#anyways. to be entirely honest i have been thinking about this mostly through the lens of bad jokes and 'could be worse'

[rollercoasterwords]

hey rae, congrats on winning the costume contest! gotta be honest, i got very curious about what you think about promising young woman's politics and the ending. i remember enjoying it, other than thinking it was a bit irresponsable at some parts... but also i watched it a while ago and dont really remember much from it. im currently reading the zombie essays you rec'd, and im franlky loving it so so much. monster theory my beloved. And this is the first time im reading about zombies through sexuality lens, all essays i've read about zombies so far were about afro-latin religions and black resistance during colonization, but im loving, reading it in bed while giggling and quicking my feet, etc.... bc "queer zombie jesus" deserves to be a bed read cmom look at that sexy combination of words. hope you're doing well!! xxx substack guy

hi substack guy <3 would love 2 share my thoughts abt promising young woman but i will do that in a min + put it under a cut bc. spoilers etc. love that ur enjoying the zombie essays tho!! there are so many different angles 2 approach zombies as a monster; if u have any reading recs abt religion + colonization my inbox is always open...i have a book or 2 downloaded but have mostly read scattered articles in that vein. agree that 'queer zombie jesus' is SO fun that was one of my fave articles from zombies & sexuality lol. also just recently bought a book called dead white & blue that's abt zombies + usamerican nationalism so. excited 2 start exploring that topic as well...

anyway. promising young woman thoughts (got long...also tw sa):

still thinking & working thru them etc but. generally speaking i am not a huge fan of movies that fall into the rape revenge genre so i typically start them skeptical, and ultimately i thought it was...an odd choice to have the main character be seeking revenge not for herself, but on behalf of her dead friend's past assault...talk abt a dead girl haunting the narrative etc...but like. usually one of my issues w rape revenge is the tendency to turn the person who's been assaulted into this figure of the Righteous Victim such that they become less a person + more a symbol onto which an audience gets to project + live out violent catharsis etc...honestly don't necessarily think there's an inherent issue with creating or seeking out that form of catharsis in film but i just. do not think it is particularly politically useful...+ this setup just like. took that to the next level by literally removing the Victim from the narrative entirely, stripping her character of all agency + personhood, and making her friend the Agent seeking Justice on her behalf which. i mean it's a bit ironic innit...

was also not too sure how i felt abt the whole setup of "woman goes to bars, acts drunk, and there's ALWAYS a creep who tries to take her home + assault her"...i'm somewhat torn feeling-wise here bc i used to very much have this sort of "all men are [potential] monsters" mentality that like no matter where u go there will be someone there ready 2 take advantage of u but. i no longer feel like that is a very useful framework 4 discussing or addressing sexual violence. firstly in that it tends to devolve quickly into the sort of gender essentialism that i am fundamentally opposed to, but also bc it seems so defeatist to me. how are u supposed 2 address a problem if u assume that the problem is already so baked in, and in such simplistic terms? so while i do understand that this is a film and it's sort of dramatizing what is a very real issue, i'm not sure i was entirely sold on the way it was dramatizing it...felt like it was trying 2 highlight but in the process was also flattening 2 a certain extent...

and then like. i did to some extent appreciate the way the film is trying to highlight that it's oftentimes "nice guys" committing sexual violence, especially bc rape revenge films often just portray the "bad guys" as like. cartoonishly evil. but i felt like even there the film was still wanting to get back into that black + white territory, which manifested especially in the bo burnham character. like, on the one hand the film wants to highlight the fact that people committing sexual violence are often sympathetic, perhaps even kind, "nice" people and not obviously evil bad guys, but on the other hand it did not seem to want to sit in the gray area of what that means at all (ie, asking the audience to actually sympathize with or relate to anyone implicated in acts of sexual violence), meaning that whenever we found out a character was involved in an assault that character immediately became a completely unsympathetic bad guy. and like, again, i understand why the film wants to do that--nobody wants to encourage someone to sympathize with a rapist. but irl sexual violence is by and large not black and white, and the fact is that most people are able to sympathize with and relate to people who have committed these forms of violence, because they're not cartoonishly evil bad guys--they're friends, partners, coworkers, family members, etc. and so again, this just isn't a framework that i find particularly useful in addressing irl sexual violence, bc i think it leads to this dichotomy we so often seen where if The Perpetrator/The Accused is not clearly Evil, then they must be Innocent. so like. the film tries, in some ways, to trouble that dichotomy, but i think in the end it just falls back into it--it's just that the guys we thought were "nice" are actually "bad"; imo the audience isn't really encouraged to sit in any emotional stew beyond that.

i do give the movie props for the actual way it handled portrayals of assault; i thought it did a pretty good job there. in particular was a fan of the way they elected to never show the actual video of nina, and how in basically any scene with sexual violence the emphasis was largely on the face + emotions of the person experiencing it. and i mean i did enjoy the movie, for the most part, while i was watching it--like i thought it was a pretty engaging film, good acting, etc.

but if anything the ending really. solidified my disappointment in the politics of the movie. not just bc cassandra died--honestly, i think the death was an interesting choice and there are ways they maybe could have played it that i would have liked more. but having the "triumphant" ending be the cops swooping in to arrest al...give me a fucking break lol. like u set up this whole movie abt how the legal system + these various institutions fail people who have experienced sexual violence, and then...i'm supposed to expect the cops to handle it? the justice system that already failed previously in the movie? and the entire framing of the ending--cassandra's final texts, the music, etc--makes it clear that this is supposed to be a triumphant moment. so i was just like. wtf....like in the end both women are dead. what form of justice is the suggestion that their abuser might go to prison? especially when prison itself is a violent + corrupt institution that must be abolished as part of the fight to end sexual violence? just a very shitty ending overall to what was already a movie that had me sort of going "hmmm...idk" throughout lol. so! those r my thoughts currently

[dykeogenes]

oh i might have gastroparesis which is fun and new

[nashidakyouko]

Oh my god I watched First Kill last week and idk what people are complaining about, it's pretty good!

I mean--big shock--it isn't the single best piece of media ever, but so what? Especially on what was apparently a shit budget.

It has good characters, some fairly interesting plots, a decent sense of humor, and some nice representation. And honestly it has a far more interesting look into a vampire who doesn't want to kill than I've seen in a long time. Even if that basic idea is pretty common, it's been handling it in a more interesting way than some crap that tries it. And that's mostly due to the interactions between the inner self, instincts, and pressures from a family that is insistent Juliette embrace her "nature." There's so much blatant manipulation and honestly I liked how it was done.

The primary relationship does progress really quickly, but I think some of that is very purposeful to drive home the Romeo and Juliet parallels and the painful ending to the season.

Plus, I hate Romeo and Juliet (I like Shakespeare, but people misinterpret R&J as an actual romantic work, and it has made it impossible for me to enjoy the source text), but by the end this actually felt like it was being more honest to the deeper themes of R&J, and to be honest to those themes the relationship virtually HAS to rush too quickly. That was part of the entire tragedy. Too hard, too fast, too young... I sure as hell hope they don't go with the double-suicide part of R&J, but having things end so badly for this season made perfect sense.

It's a perfectly good show with potential for a couple seasons, but so many people decided it was "too YA" and had "terrible CGI" and all this crap that I'm not even fully convinced is true, much less relevant to the quality of the story being told.

Also, while the world seems largely non-homophobic, there are really great scenes that SCREAM from the bad parts of the queer experience. The Severing was almost blatant Shock Therapy, for instance. I thought the exploration of homophobia through this lens was done pretty well and I somehow haven't seen anyone talking about it? (there must be people talking about it, but somehow the conversation about symbolism and themes never makes it to my dash bc most people want to pretend the show is single-layered)

Plus the whole show is literally "a vampire in love with a slayer" but hella gay.

Anyway, I really hope it gets renewed. I'd like to see what's next.

[galloperthompson]

Regarding Galloper Thompson’s clothes

Including his (slutty, thigh high) boots

It’s been brought to my attention that galloper’s slutty thigh high boots actually look like ankle boots with the thigh high part tucked into the boot. So I’ve decided to go beyond my jokes about him being a slut anyways and make this post going over his clothes. And buckle up folks, it gets long.

I’ll be honest, it’s pretty difficult to find details about 13th century (and 12th century) Scandinavian life specifically, especially since I’m using google. For this post, I have just used general European fashion, but in the future I’ll be mixing viking things with general European things from this time (but I’ll mostly try to keep the general European things to German and English/Irish stuff). I’ll also be referencing things from both the 13th century and the 12th century, since galloper “lived” during the early 13th century (and every website seems to think the 13th century started in 1250).

But anyways, an English knight from the mid 13th century apparently wore something like this on his bottom half (underneath other layers):

Now as you can see in this terrible quality picture (sorry about that, but I did try to label it), the hose are thigh high just like galloper’s leg coverings, which is what gave me the idea that maybe it’s hose he’s wearing. So let’s begin.

I would explain the whole system they used, but this does it better than I could (you only need to read until it starts talking about chausses since we’re only talking about the hose). The linked text is a bit weird and may (or may not) be unreliable, but it’s compact, explains things well, and has pictures (it’s where I got that *stunning* photo I labeled). However, keep in mind that it depicts a mid 13th century English knight, and galloper is from early 13th century Scandinavia, so while there may be similarities, there’s also definitely differences in how he would’ve dressed. Braies were apparently longer in the first half of the 13th century, for one, and didn’t really become “underwear” for everyone until the second half and later. Hose were also referred to as stockings, and apparently hose and stockings didn’t really refer to different things until later on. Additionally, clothing differed between class, but we’re not going to go over that today.

So how does this relate to galloper? Well his lower half actually sort of resembles the picture above, doesn’t it? His “hose” are thigh high, with ankle high shoes over them, just like the picture. Despite the similarities, though, there are differences. His “hose” aren’t pointed, and so there are no ties for them. Apparently, hose didn’t have to be pointed, and those thigh high hose that weren’t pointed were held up with pins.. but there are no pins to hold them up either. Without one of these mechanisms to hold up the hose, they would not stay in place. And considering we can see where the thigh high part ends, we should also be able to see at least part of what’s holding them up. The thigh high part could also theoretically be “leg bandages” that extend above the knee. However, his “hose” don’t look like wrapped or crisscrossed cloth, they look solid, so leg bandages are unlikely.

Now, I wanted to present hose as an explanation based (somewhat) in history, but I don’t actually think he’s wearing hose. We’ll go over why later in this post, but let’s keep going for now.

On to his tunic and coat. Well I say tunic, really it isn’t a tunic by medieval standards. Back in the 13th century, tunics didn’t have buttons—at least not on the front. And his coat.. well it’s not something you’d find in the 13th century. Longer coverings, down to the knee or lower, were the style then. Shorter coverings with buttons down the front didn’t appear until the 14th century in the form of things like doublets. Those “things” were usually very padded and form-fitting, however, and neither galloper’s shirt or coat seem to be padded or exceedingly form-fitting at all.

The history of gloves (in everyday wear, at least) is surprisingly complex, so I won’t be touching his gloves. I’m also ignoring his belt because I don’t have much to say on it, but they did have leather belts with “single-looped” buckles (whatever that means) in the 12th and 13th centuries.

Moving on to his cape. Ah yes, his tattered little cape (which matches his mare’s tattered little saddle blanket!). Who knows why the fuck he wears it. There doesn’t seem to be a hood (like the medieval chaperon) or a part that comes around to cover the shoulders, and it’s too short to be a cloak. My best guess is that it was a design choice based on the fact that such a short cape doesn’t need a fluttering animation. Why not axe (lol) the whole idea of a cape? Well, all the coolest characters have capes!

His weird ass shoulder pad I can’t come up with an explanation for, though (or at least a medieval one). If he had a neck, the shoulder pad would be digging into it based on the position. Maybe it’s supposed to be like those shoulder pads with tassels on some formal military uniforms (technically “epaulettes” with “fringe”)? Except instead of tassels it’s feather looking things and also there’s only one shoulder pad for some reason?

All of this is to say that none of what he’s wearing can realistically pass for 13th century clothing, except maybe his lower half, and that’s still stretching it.

His entire outfit actually most resembles military uniforms from the 18th and early 19th centuries, as @inkowl13 pointed out in this post. When he floats, you can even clearly see his tattered coattails, which are his trademark green on the underside. In the case of 18th century garb, his shirt would be a waistcoat (he doesn’t seem to be wearing an 18th century shirt underneath his “waistcoat” at all, but maybe we just can’t see it or distinguish it from his “waistcoat”), and his jacket-thing would be a uniformed soldier’s coat. His lower half would be breeches with either a. ankle boots and over-the-knee stockings, b. ankle boots and thigh high gaiters (those things with buttons that go over the top of the shoe), or c. thigh high boots, which appeared as riding boots in the 15th century and remained common until the 19th century—including in military uniforms (in fact, some cavalry units today still use them in their ceremonial dress uniforms). His shoulder pad would, in fact, be a strange attempt at an epaulet/epaulette (which were used in the 18th century (and beyond) to denote rank) with fringe the color of his trademark green. The fact that there’s only one also makes sense within this period; whether the epaulet/epaulette was on the right, left, or both shoulders indicated rank (Galloper’s “epaulet/epaulette” is on his right shoulder, our left). The issue of glove history is also eliminated since it seems military uniforms in the 1700s made use of gloves. Men’s capes/cloaks at this time went to the knee or below it, so my explanation for his cape is unchanged. Through this lens, things start to become clear.

This is a mannequin (is that what you call the fake models of historical clothing? does mannequin apply in this context?) wearing an 18th century cavalry uniform:

As you can see, he looks incredibly similar to galloper, despite the many differences.

And these are two sets of 18th century soldiers (again, sorry for the less than ideal quality):

On the left there’s a pair of soldiers with over-the-knee boots and on the right there’s a pair with over-the-knee gaiters (see how they go over their shoes). Thigh high boots would make more sense for a horseman, but thigh high gaiters would explain some things about his lower half, like how his boots and the thigh high part are different colors. However, there are no buttons on the sides (like gaiters have) or garters at the knee (like both stockings and gaiters had), and the thigh high part is tucked into the shoe, more like stockings rather than gaiters. In these pictures you can also see how his upper half looks incredibly similar to all four soldiers, again, even with the differences.

Now, unless galloper was keeping up with fashion until the 18th century when he stopped (he gave up I guess? said “fuck that shit” and hasn’t changed clothes for the past 300 years?), he shouldn’t be wearing an 18th century military uniform. Especially since he was shown wearing the same clothes in his execution scene (which I don’t put too much stake in considering the Jarl was in his ghost form and even the soul riders don’t have 2 sets of clothes in game).

So why does he look like this, then? The reason why he looks like a revolutionary war soldier can be traced back to the inspiration used for his design. According to Jorvikipedia, his “...design takes direct inspiration from author Washington Irving’s Headless Horseman from The Legend of Sleepy Hollow...” which explains why he looks the way he does. Jorvikipedia has been wrong before (they list his place of birth as “Jorvik (presumably)” which doesn’t fit with his backstory), but if Galloper’s design was based on the headless horseman of “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” (which it very likely was), it would provide justification for the 18th century look of his clothes. Washington Irving’s horseman was, after all, (alleged to be) killed during the revolutionary war in the 18th century.

It’s obvious his upper half is based on 18th century uniform, but the intention behind his lower half remains a mystery. Whether it’s meant to be stockings, gaiters, or boots, I don’t know. Theoretically, his lower half could even have been intended to be hose, braies, and shoes. But considering his entire look and the inspiration behind his design, an 18th century explanation seems more likely (I just don’t know which 18th century explanation, exactly). It would be pretty strange if half of him was medieval and the other half was from the revolutionary war era. Though, I’ll admit, it’s not completely impossible.

My theory for the contradiction between his design and his backstory is that his backstory came after his design. The 18th century look of him, along with his inspiration, and the lack of medieval elements in his design all make a compelling case for this theory. The only thing I can think of that may disprove it is his mare’s y-shaped bridle, but even that could be explained if she was designed after galloper, while his backstory was in its first stages of development (I’ll probably do another post on his horse’s tack, since this post is already long, but that’s for another day). But that’s just a theory; the star stable team could very well have just not done any research on 13th century attire, instead modeling his look on depictions of Irving’s headless horseman and adding the bridle as an indication of the origin they had already established for him.

Ok, but what about the rest? The other parts of his and his mare’s designs (color scheme, hanging pumpkin jack-o-lanterns) can be attributed to the fact that he is the halloween event character. Though his color scheme could be inspired by the headless horseman in World of Warcraft, who was introduced in 2007 (I found out about this horseman while looking into other possible inspirations for galloper’s design), all the colors seen on him and his mare (black, green, red, orange) are general Halloween colors. The hanging jack-o-lanterns are not historically accurate for the Middle Ages (or the revolutionary war era, actually) as pumpkins were not introduced into Europe until Columbus “discovered” the Americas, and did not become commonly carved into jack-o-lanterns until the 19th century in America -which was when and where “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” was published (though the pumpkin “head” was not even carved in the original story). I suppose galloper could have developed an affinity for pumpkins (and for carving them) later on (Jorvik seems to have a lot of them), but it’s more likely that they added them (to the keep and his mare’s design) based on modern halloween practices instead of historical halloweens or consideration of galloper’s feelings on pumpkins.

Ok, so we’ve established he’s not historically accurate for the 13th century, but what would his clothes look like if they were actually historically accurate? The answer is: I don’t know! Maybe I’ll do another google deep dive and make a post on that, but for now we’ve come to the end.

All of my information about historical clothing came from sorting out google results, so take the historical bits with a hefty grain of salt (more like a bowl of salt actually). If you have any actual knowledge about history, please feel free to correct me.

[hopevalley]

I’ll admit, last night I was in a lot of pain and I made a post that probably came off quite rude, so for that I apologize. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive. I'm just incredibly frustrated by the attitude the fans have regarding this show.

When I said the writing was poor, I was nitpicking and being unfair. I was told if I didn’t like it, I should stop watching because “that’s just how the show is now.” But now that so many people are feeling disappointed by Elizabeth’s choice in the love triangle, now it’s suddenly okay to be mad at the show. Now it’s okay to talk about how the writing is trash-tier and the writers don’t care about the characters.  Now it’s okay to say things suck (besides the usual criticism about the makeup and hairstyles and lack of period-appropriate attire).

I started this season off being intentionally more positive because I was tired of the messages that told me my negativity was irritating, and I didn’t want to make any blanket statements about the writing until the end of the season (new writer, new way of doing things, so I didn’t want to judge too early). Well, now it’s the end of the season and I’m seeing all these comments about how the finale was bad, and the writing *in this season* didn’t lead up properly to it, and while I agree with that, here’s what I LITERALLY DO NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT YOU GUYS:

Why has no one pointed out the blatant flip-flop between the characterization/characters of Nathan and Lucas this season? Why are you all going on about how Lucas is patient and Nathan is pushy? Have y’all forgotten S6 and S7 where Nathan was patient and Lucas was the pushy one?

Y’ALL. I just want to say: the writing this entire season regarding the love triangle has been shit. It wasn’t just the finale. 

At first I was so happy with the new version of Lucas (he was so weird before and now he felt like a good character) I didn’t want to jinx it, but man...the second Nathan started being pushy I figured out what was going on: that was the writers’ attempt at “balancing” the triangle lmao. Just flip their personalities around!!!! It was awful but I’m pretty sure that’s what they did to make up for Lucas being vaguely awfully written in S6 and S7 while Nathan was always much more reserved (except in the windstorm episode but we can all agree that was a terrible episode, right?). I can’t believe it happened but I find it almost harder to believe that...nobody else really noticed it? (Is it me? AM I INSANE?)

--

For what it’s worth, I don’t think Elizabeth’s choice was the wrong one, but I do think the “triangle” was a huge mistake, and the writing surrounding it was bad from the get-go. I guess to sum my thoughts on that up in a very broad sense, I’ll say that I feel like the triangle writing, especially this season, was very...meandering, and nobody deserved that.

Also, for all of Elizabeth’s speech to Nathan about how she was trying to find Jack in him, I never really felt that way about their relationship except for one scene (where she ran to him after she thought he might have been shot), but I definitely felt that way about Lucas in the sense that their relationship reminds me of her relationship with Jack. The candles, the big gestures, the slightly awkward interactions at first. The tonsil-sucking kissing... That’s all very familiar! I’m not opposed to the relationship itself, but having Elizabeth go out of her way to tell Nathan what she did (you know, “telling” the viewer instead of showing them all season) felt really cheap! She could have honestly just told him, “I love you, but I’m not in love with you” and I would have been like, thank God she’s just being honest with him!!

Don’t even get me started on Nathan talking to Lucas... I wanted to like that scene so much, but 1) they had more chemistry with each other than with Elizabeth...again, and 2) it felt manipulative, like “See guys?! Nathan’s fine with it and knew all along!! haha!!” Sorry but your writing all season doesn’t support that even an ounce!

--

I don’t know why Hallmark is surprised that people are reacting negatively; they promo’d the show based on the premise of a love triangle for a woman who LITERALLY JUST LOST HER HUSBAND IN A SHOCKING AND RANDOM TRAGIC ACCIDENT and then went out of their way to encourage fans to pick a #team, and then gASP...are surprised when fans emotionally invest themselves in their personal choice for Elizabeth and are (naturally, understandably) upset when their choice ends up being the “incorrect” one!

What did they think was going to happen? 

Sure, some fans had borderline delusional ideas of what should have happened and/or of what different scenes meant, but I think most people had a reasonable understanding of the show and chose based off of what scenes spoke to them. Part of the issue all along has been that Elizabeth has never had much in the way of A Personality. I don’t want to sound like a bitch here, but she mostly exists as a vehicle for the viewer to self-insert into, a fresh lens to view Coal Valley (and then Hope Valley) through, and so tends toward more generic personality traits to make her more #relatable. The problem with this style of writing is that the viewers do engage in the media in a very specific way, and naturally chose their “ideal” for Elizabeth with extra-biased judgment (as each person has been encouraged to insert bits of themselves into her character).

This isn’t a knock against the fans, by the way. It’s the way this type of character is meant to be viewed and engaged with...which is precisely why Elizabeth was such a poor choice for a love triangle, but...here we are anyway.

Most Team Lucas fans are happy with the choice, but I’d say it’s folly to believe they’re all 100% satisfied with the writing that led to it. It feels good to feel right, to be right, and to have picked right, doesn’t it? When that high fades I think some of them are going to reassess and be like, “The writing could have definitely been much better, though.”

That said, they dragged the love triangle out all season because they were legitimately terrified that some of y’all would stop watching partway through the season otherwise, and they wanted those sweet, sweet ratings. You can be mad about it all you want, and justly so because you fell for it (and that Feels Real Bad), but they got their ratings and their renewal. You tuned in. You got excited. And they were right in the case of quite a few of you: if they’d had her pick Lucas in Episode 3 or something, a bunch of people would have stopped watching and the ratings would have plummeted for the season.

The really awful thing about this is that...they KNEW it would happen. They made their own stupid bed and instead of just laying in it, they were like, well what if we dragged it out all season to keep viewer engagement with the show up? And they did. And we all fell for it like chumps. That’s worse than the bad writing and the character assassination this season and being wrong about who Elizabeth would choose...by a large margin, IMO. 

The thing is...how many of us knew they were doing that and bought the season anyway? Watched anyway?

Many of us just hoped we’d be justified in the end by Elizabeth’s choice being the one we wanted for her, but we weren’t. For how many of you was that salt in the wound? It’s something to think about, anyway.

[winxlava]

Where Fate: the Winx saga fails

As a winx fan of 14 years (in and out), this fate thing is really scandolous. I’ve seen lots of ups and downs the winx fandom. As I’ve watched all of the development that fate had, I've had some thoughts, but I’ve waited until I watched everything.

This is going to be a reaction to all 6 episodes of Fate the Winx saga. This is coming from a fan of the og show so expect lots of comparisons.

If this bothers you, please don't keep reading. A lot of this is only my opinion. If you like it and think its great, that’s good! I’m not here to ruin it.

There is a list of what I liked most near the bottom of this post. Spoilers Ahead!!

Anyway, back to the post.

What made the Winx work

Lets start with the basic idea of Winx. Bloom, a normal girl, finds out that she has magic powers and is from another dimension. Seems like a simple concept? Well, Seasons 1-3 (and 4?) expanded this idea to the max.

Likeable characters galore and lots of fun, fashion, and magic.

For a lot of us that’s what sold the show. 

So lets talk about tone and why its so important 

The idea that teenage girls were exploring a world we could never see or experience. And the darkness that came with it.

Remember when Daphne, bloom’s dead sister, clung to life to help bloom figure her life out? When bloom became evil and nearly killed all of her friends? When Flora drowned to save her sister, only to get enchantix? (Actually all of enchantix was like this). When Musa gave up seeing her dead mom to save the world? When nabu died?

The show was full of these small, intense, dark moments. That’s what made winx special. The light came with dark.

By making the show dark and “eDgy” it takes away the impact of the dark moments. I’ve been saying this since the beginning. 

Point of view and how Stella is affected 

Stella was very misunderstood in the remake and it shows. The thing is, Stella was the first entry point into the magical world in the original show. She carried Bloom and her parents to Alfea. She was the transfer point to a whole world for the audience.

Her spunk and optimism and snark made her a fan favorite, but that’s not what made her character work.

She was Bloom’s first friend, and because of the that, we saw her in a good lens. She was reckless, but a pure heart nonetheless. She was confident, cunning, and powerful. 

It was because we saw the good in her first that made us like her. She was good before she was bad in our eyes.

The remake takes all of that away. She’s just a generic mean rich girl now. To be honest, Stella is accurate, but the way she was introduced put her in a whole new light. In this version, she is annoying and trifling, seemingly taking the place of Diaspro in her liking for sky.

Also she hates her mother? Stella would never! She loved both of her parents dearly and was mad simply because she felt they never loved her as a result of their divorce; they never talked to each other and she felt split between the two of them. (See Stella’s nightmares sequence season 1 :https://youtu.be/wuvyw0OHA6A?t=129). She was lonely and her father, though he loved her, spoiled her with gifts instead of the love she desired. 

You see this side of her when Chimera comes in and tries to take her place in season 3. Her worth is tied to what she has and looks like. Her title as a princess rules her.

Not only that, Stella learns about “commoners” through her friends. She was spoiled and never saw people who couldn’t afford things; it was new and she was a bit rude about it, but can you blame her, she was always put above everything else in her home country.

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgzCfOQ696rvwa51Z_J4AaABCQ?lc=UgzCDSxfcNaP9XogBSB4AaABAg

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgzCfOQ696rvwa51Z_J4AaABCQ?lc=Ugxl_sOsUSGBXEwagxJ4AaABAg

^^ These are comments of people saying similar things.

Stella also vents to Sky a lot in the remake. She seems like she is chasing him pitifully, something og Stella would never do.

Edit: Check the “liked” section; she has been upgraded to sort of like in episodes 5 and 6.

Aisha

They did Aisha dirty as well. (Just like Bonnie from Vampire Diaries, why am I surprised?) I would write a lot here, but someone else summarized it well:

https://rainbow-whitewashing-jar.tumblr.com/post/639787632624369664/its-just-there-is-so-much-background-on-aisha.

https://www.youtube.com/post/Ugx4WL5rIPTS1suGOed4AaABCQ

Tldr: Aisha was a very lonely princess of Andros. She only had one friend growing up but then they moved away and she was lonely all over again. She copes with her princess duties by being great at sports and even beating some of the men! She stood up to her parents when they wanted her to be arranged married, until she fell in love with Nabu HERSELF. She decided her own future from that point on.

Also, her relevance to the plot has been dwindled to being Bloom's right hand man; the black best friend sterotype! What a let down for one of the PRINCESSES of the original!

She had her own goals, drive, and motivations in the original! She did things for all of her friends; she definitely wasn't only driven by one person!

And she was closer to Musa than Bloom that's for sure!

Bloom

The fact that bloom transforms before everyone else gives bad vibes, considering that one of the reasons she was insecure about magic was because everyone of her friends was better than her and could transform. Why would she feel insecure when they are all around the same level?

The theme of sisterhood

Ever notice that none of the girls had the same taste in guys?

Bloom liked goody guys like Sky and Andy. Stella liked guys who were fun and flirty like Brandon.

In fact, none of the girls ever fought over a guy, they fought over things that actually mattered like someone being rude or a mission gone wrong.

That's what made them relatable. They weren't petty about guys and they mostly respected each other's relationships.

https://www.youtube.com/post/Ugz6TEOmGRV2Cfqy12F4AaABCQ?lc=UgwhLsToVbhLDYpFphB4AaABAg

^^ Look at highlighted comment

Not only that, but the winx represented a positive sisterhood. They stood by each other and respected each other; they never let men come between them and shared their power with each other.

Only the trix, the bad sisterhood, fought over men and power. The trix were foils to the winx and what they stood for! That's what made them some of the best villains in the series!

Instead of that, we get useless relationship drama! 😒

And that brings me to...

Stella/Sky/Bloom & Riven/Dane/Terra

What was the point of Dane? I'm still asking myself that question. He doesn't really do anything except act as relationship fuel for a love triangle.

Don't get me wrong, the representation is needed. But he adds nothing to the real plot at all except that Terra thinks he likes her, and he has a crush on Riven.

In terms of the Stella and Bloom love triangle with Sky, apparently she BLINDED someone because they flirted with sky. What?!? Stella isn't that cruel at all. The show clearly flanderized her to a cruel mean girl so....

Edit: Check the “liked” section; she has been upgraded to sort of like in episodes 5 and 6.

Lets not forget about “diversity”

Male fairies did exist before Fate:

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgziTWMf44kv0fkDt8x4AaABCQ

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgxWAFZRmqt_k3iBMhZ4AaABCQ

Flora/Terra, Musa, and Whitewashing

Terra and Musa are wonderful! Their actress' do a great job; their personalities are so similar to the original (except for musa's mind abilities and Terra's talkative personality)! Whenever one of them interacts with the other main cast, you feel actual friendship chemistry between them!!

But there is an elephant in the room: the whitewashing. If these characters were the correct race, they wouldn't be in this critical review.

Terra isn't flora, but her character was clearly based on her! Also, she has a cousin named Flora, so Flora is clearly in this universe.

??

Why change her race and swap her out! The personalities are spot on, which makes it even more disheartening to know that they would rather replace two POC characters with white characters who essentially are the same people and have the same plot importance.

What a shame and low blow that is! Especially since I am a black woman myself!

Sky and Riven

Them being bros make no sense really. Before they were more like enemies who were forced to work together.

Why are they friends?? What's the backstory?

Other than that, sky is pretty spot on. He's the pretty boy with good intentions. Not interesting but not very boring either.

Riven is cringy like I feared. He was also sort of cringe in the og but because of the darker setting in the remake he just feels even more so.

Other Criticisms:

- we gets some pretty cringy dialogue (mostly from riven). Some of the clingy dialogue (not from riven) ironically could have worked in a lighter setting and become "campy".

- The fact that there are no wings for 5 whole episodes, just makes the entire thing feel like Witches or something...

- why does everyone have the dead parent trope??

- no tecna

Things I do like:

- bloom missing her parents and feeling left out

- Musa and Sam before Musa and Riven (hopefully)

- Terra in general

- Terra’s dad and brother

- Musa in general

- Stella funny quips

- the scenery is gorgeous

- Stella's clothes are so fashionable! She has great outfits!

- Sky and Bloom taking during the party and/or being friendly with each other

- the magic cgi looks good 👍

- the rooms of the girls dorms and the castle looks great on the inside

- Aisha's personality

- Farrah Dowling is good as well

- Bloom is pretty spot on

- Stella's mom's powers are awesome

- imagine the genocide plot but with the happy fun show vibe and with the trix. The trix want to get revenge on faragonda for killing their cult, who wanted to revive the ancestral witches or something💥💥💥

- Stella in episodes 5 and 6 is cool

- the inclusion of the witches of aster dell (Beatrix said she was born there = witch)

- the inclusion of musa’s mother’s death

-Her transformation was lackluster to me, but I appreciated the effort to include it.

Conclusion

The pacing was all over the place to me; it felt like some episodes lasted forever and all of them seemed to have the vague theme of : be careful who you trust.

By trying to separate the winx from the og and have them have "their own lives" (which they already had), they ruined the intriguing backstories the characters already had in the og. Some were somewhat kept, but others were kind of left in the dust *cough*Aisha*cough*.

They took away with made them special: the teamwork, love, and friendship that brought them together and made them stronger. *They try it in episodes 5 and 6, but to me it just falls sort of flat.*

That said it isn't completely bad, it's mediocre at best, but it isn't Winx and that's that.

Edit: I know that it’s not supposed to be winx per say, but it has characters from the og and even the “winx” name in the title!

Credits: WCD channel on youtube, rainbow whitewashing jar on tumblr, and Youtube videos by the official winx club youtube channel.

[raevenlywrites]

Okay, so. The point I wanted to make earlier was something like this:

TL;DR: Not knowing that hyperfixations were a thing hurt me, and cost me not only enjoyment of a thing, but more serious social and emotional growth potential. More kids need access to a broader range of what Normal is, and Normal needs to be opened up and expanded to include things that are perfectly harmless because the harm of excluding those things is immeasurable.

(Did I just put a tldr at the START of my post? why yes I did. why? because i’m about to drop this entire damned ESSAY under a read more because it’s dash destroying (think of it as an abstract on a scientific paper) ... (no, it is nothing like an abstract on a scientific paper. wtf did I say that) ... (anyways))

(Can you tell its an ADHD night? are there enough parenthetical asides in this yet?)

...

(no)

.

ANYWAYS

When I was a teen, I read a book called In The Forests Of The Night. I’m sure you’ve heard me mention it before, but believe it or not, it was only TONIGHT that it occurred to me that this book and its fellows is my hyperfixation. Because, for the first TWO THIRDS OF MY LIFE, I didn’t know to think of myself as someone with hyperfixations. Hell, I didn’t even know what a hyperfixation was. I am one of the countless adults who has self diagnosed as ADHD or autistic or SOMETHING, and this is the story of how not having a diagnosis growing up hurt me.

So. I read this book. My now-wife-then-unbeknownst-crush gave it to me as part of our ignorant teen courtship. You’ll like this, she said, trying to share an interest with me in order to bond. Thank you, I said, not knowing I wanted to smooch her face. Unimportant, but I like reminding myself when I look at back my teen years how queer I already was without knowing. And this story is mostly for my benefit of getting it off my chest, so smoochy thoughts included.

So I read this book. It’s short, 200 pages or so, and if I’m honest with myself as an informed adult, nothing spectacular. It’s not bad, but its not ground breaking. None of the books are. But they broke new ground in Me, and what grew out of them has literally shaped the course of my entire personality.

Raev, I hear you say, it’s not great to base your entire personality on a bit of pop culture.

Shut up, I said, I’m telling this story and anyways insert-edgy-media-here dudebros have been doing it forever. Anyways.

So I read this book. I read it again, and again. I read all the books that went with it, but I stayed especially hung up on Forests. Why? Partially because it was the first one I read. Partially because the MC and I share a name, and therefore in my little teen head a connection. It was the first time “Rachel” felt like an identity, instead of just an identifier, and one that way too many of my classmates shared. Rachel was a badass, stifled by her Christian upbringing and the expectations of the day on women. I was a badass, stifled by my Christian upbringing and the expectations of the day on women. Rachel became a vampire, spiteful and spitfire the entire way. She did it on her own terms (so my teen reading of the text went), spurning every attempt of her kind to show her the ways of the vampire. She had a nemesis, a clear, concrete reason for her pain, and took charge of that pain and overcame it to be a complete and utter badass by the end of the book (again, so my teen reading went. Part of the problem here was my teenness. Part of it was my neurodivergence, which I will get to (you didn’t think this would be a SHORT story, did you? I warned you I have ADHD and that this was my hyperfixation; how did you think this was gonna go?))

So I identified heavily with the protag, and with its shocking author. This lifechanging book was written by a teen, like me! Holy cats, I said to myself, why, if she can do it, so can I! I had just started writing my own first novel (a shameless retelling of Star Wars, hyperfixation of my grade school years), and immediately trashed it to write my own vampire thing. Because vampires were clearly IT and I was gonna be a cool badass author hero, just like the MC of the second book.

Then the shapeshifter books came out, and so did I.

It’s really unrelated, but that was a fun transition, and as previously stated, author-type. Anyways.

So I came out to my girlcrush, angsted about that a lot, and continued to gobble up the books. Did you know there’s a website, she said. There’s like a whole fan community and everything.

Now, part of the problem here was being part of the first generation on the internet. It was relatively new, and so stranger danger and not being entirely comfortable on the internet and all that had its part to play. But this is also where the hyperfixation finally comes into play.

I liked Nyeusigrube A LOT. A lot a lot. So much so that I made my own conlang, my own mythos, my own entire story universe patterned after this one but not exactly this one. For whatever reason, it never occurred to me to self-insert, just to shamelessly copy. That one I can’t explain, but this one I can now understand through the lens of an adult.

Nyeusigrube was my especially special interest, and I had no idea that was a normal, healthy thing.

So tangled up in all this was my raised-too-conservative freak out about being Not Straight. I had finally figured out I liked girlfriend, if not that I was incredibly bisexual yet, and that was a Big Deal. Super cool author I hero-worshiped was one of those “Do I want to BE her or just want her?” kind of idolations, but again, didn’t know that at the time either. So these two very normal things that I knew NOTHING about were getting tangled together in a rat king of Issues with a generous slathering of Shame glue to hold them all together. Add to it the paranoia/RSD/general not-great-at-social sides of my neurodivergence, and basically I had decided I was Too Weird and liked this book Too Much and if I so much as LOOKED at the websites/forums/etc, everyone would know and that would be Bad.

Did I have a clear idea of how that would look? Not really? I didn’t need to. Just the thought of checking out the fansites was enough to send me into a panicking guilt/shame spiral about how much I enjoyed the books. Everyone will KNOW, I thought, and it will be BAD. The End. It was Not Normal how much I liked the books and I will freak everyone out.

So.

If I had just KNOWN that hyperfixations were a thing, I might have still felt weird, but I don’t think I would have AGONIZED (and I do mean fucking AGONIZED) over how shockingly Not Normal my level of interest went. I might have still felt bad, because I didn’t have a diagnosis, and therefore probably wouldn’t have given myself permission of admit I had a hyperfixation, but at least I wouldn’t have wallowed in ignorance. Now, if I’d had the knowledge and the diagnosis, I probably would have still been too shy to interact, but I wouldnt’ have wasted hours of my life in panicked/guilt/shame spirals. If I’d have a diagnosis and a support group? If I’d had a diagnosis and been raised with the normalization of being queer? If I’d had medication, role models, a safe place to open up and communicate, so on and so on? Like, you get the idea, right?

I consider myself immeasurably lucky that my love of writing and vampires and high school girlfriend survived all this. (My equally intense boy crush of the time did not (not because I don’t like boys but because I fell down another hyperfixation spiral and no PERSON should ever be subjected to that but I digress)). As I said, this is my especially special hyperfixation. I can’t imagine how many hours of enjoyment I might have gotten out of the forums, the fan arts, the roleplaying groups, the FRIENDSHIPS, my gods, can you imagine the friendships? Anyways, what I’m really saying is that it caused me real emotional Pain and Trauma, thinking something was Wrong with me for my level of interest. A lot of people have regrets about like not trying out for the team or not asking so and so out or whatever, but mine is a stupid fansite. I have deep and palpable regrets about letting my fear and shame keep me from something so harmless and silly, and as I said before I don’t think I have a concise or tidy ending, but this was what I wanted to say on the matter so there it is.

TL;DR: (hey, didn’t you already post this part? Yes, yes I did. I’m doing it again, but this time its the In Conclusion bit instead of the summary bit) ...(abstract. they’re called abstracts)...(this is still FAR from a scientific paper) (ANYWAYS) Not knowing that hyperfixations were a thing hurt me, and cost me not only enjoyment of a thing, but more serious social and emotional growth potential. I was stunted and harmed by this lack of education, and I guess my point is I hope no one else has to go through that. If my stupid little story can fix a thing, I want it to be that. More kids needs access to a broader range of what Normal is, and Normal needs to be opened up and expanded to include things that are perfectly harmless because the harm of excluding those things is immeasurable. Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[vanderlindeandco]

Whiskey and Chocolate (Bill Guarnere x Reader)

Sequel to Silver and Sapphire

Thank you @wecomrades​ for fact-checking this and for very kindly pointing out a glaring error that I have since patched (half-assedly, but still)

You weren’t the biggest fan of what you saw when you checked your appearance in the cracked mirror inside the half-destroyed house you’d be spending the night in. Your hair was limp and dirty, the circles beneath your eyes darker than you’d expected even knowing you were sleep-deprived, and your cheeks had taken on an unfamiliar hollowness, no doubt from being on your feet for most of every day without enough food to make up for all the energy you expended. But you were in one piece, and for being where you were, that would have to be enough. You tucked a few loose strands of hair under your headscarf, and straightened the necklace that still felt foreign, the chain as light as the touch of a feather every time it shifted against your skin. You reached up to touch its stone as you walked back outside, pulling your coat tighter around you as the cold wind nipped at your face and neck.

“There you are.” Bill was waiting at the aid station when you reached it, and to your surprise, you found he’d cleaned up, presumably as well as he could given the circumstances. His face was mostly clean-shaven, a couple small cuts betraying the extent of his efforts, and his uniform, while far from clean, had wet spots in place of stains he’d tried to clean off with varying levels of success. What looked like two blankets were draped over his shoulder, and his pockets were bulging.

“Thought I’d run off?” you asked.

“Nah, just figured you were gettin’ pretty for our date,” he said, “Not that you needed to.”

You ignored the little flutter in your chest.“You clean up all right yourself.”

“Why thank you,”  he said. “Had to skip a few steps of my usual toilette, but what’re you gonna do about it? This ain’t exactly the Ritz anyway.”

“I’m impressed,” you said, though it was more by the fact that he’d tried at all than by what the results were. To be entirely honest, you had been becoming increasingly uncertain whether you should have said yes to this date - or whatever it was - after he had left earlier, the most rational part of your brain telling you that you were being unprofessional and that he might just want to get laid, but he’d already presented evidence to the contrary, and this stacked more proof onto the pile.

“You hungry?” he asked, pulling a tin of rations from one of his pockets.

“For mystery meat, always,” you said, and he chuckled, tossing you a can.

“C’mon, I got a place we can go.”

You followed him down the main road, past several soldiers on guard, and then down a side street, where he nodded toward an inset doorstep; it was just wide enough for the two of you, and clear of rubble - you wondered if he’d come by earlier to clear it out. It was close enough to the rest of the company for some level of security, but tucked away enough to provide a little privacy, and when you sat down in it, elbow to elbow with Bill, his proximity to you ignited your nervousness all over again. “You don’t mind gettin’ a little cozy, do you?” he asked as he scooted back a little further, leaning against the door. “Figured it’d be good for keeping warmth in, and all.”

“Oh, is that it?” you teased. “Just want to keep the warmth in, huh?”

“‘Course,” he said, faking offense at your doubtfulness. “What’re you trying to imply? I ain’t never been called anything less than a gentleman.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Now I know that’s a lie, and lying’s not very gentleman-like, if you ask me.” 

He took the can of rations from your hand and began to open it for you. “This make up for it?”

You considered whether you should let him off easy, and then decided to. “Sure.”

“Good.” He handed you the opened can, and you pulled your multi-tool from your pocket, unfolding the spoon to begin eating. 

“So,” you said after you swallowed your first bite. “What’s your history?”

“This a job interview or something?” he asked, and you shrugged.

“Maybe.”

That made him smile, and he took a bite of his food, swallowing quickly, before answering. “Well, ma’am,” he emphasized the word, “I’m the youngest of ten. Grew up in South Philly. Dropped out of high school after Pearl Harbor to go build tanks. Ma didn’t like that too much, so I finished school and worked by night. Same year I volunteered for this shit-” he gestured vaguely at the mess around you, “-and you know the rest.”

“Sounds pretty busy, finishing school and working nights,” you commented, impressed by his dedication.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t the only one doing it.”

That was it, you realized - that was why you were out here with him, because under all the bluster and sweet-talking, he was a kid from the States, just like you, just trying to do the right thing. He didn’t think he was anything that special, but you’d heard plenty about him that he didn’t say himself, and you knew that he was. It didn’t hurt that he knew how to make you laugh until your sides hurt, either. “How about you?” he asked, stirring his food and scooping up another bite, not noticing that you’d been staring at him, which you only realized when he broke the silence. “What’s your story?”

You told him, but speaking about your hometown was bittersweet. It had been nearly a year since you’d seen it now, what with training and then deployment, and you found yourself hurrying to finish the tale, wanting to get your mind off the place you missed so dearly. 

“Ain’t too easy thinking about it now, is it?” he said once you’d finished, and you nodded, surprised by how easily he’d read you. 

He looked down, scuffing the toe of one boot in the dust. “Helps me remember what the hell I’m doing out here, though.”

He was right - that was the only good way to look at it - perhaps through that lens you could remember your home a little more sweetly, and you nodded, sitting back to watch the sky, in which a weak sun was setting.

“Real cheerful pair, aren’t we?” he commented, “Actin’ like a couple of salty old timers, talking about the good old days.” 

You chuckled. “You’ve got a point. But I got something that might cheer us up.” You withdrew the bottle of Scotch from inside your coat and Bill’s eyes lit up.

“Excellent.”

A few shared sips of the liquor began to loosen your tongue and lift your spirits and soon you were chatting comfortably again, laughing as Bill recounted stories of the mischief he’d frequently perpetrated as a child (which didn’t surprise you) and soon he began to poke you for stories of your own. “C’mon, you’re telling me you never got in trouble? Never snuck out? Egged a house? Nothin’?”  There was so much disappointment in his eyes as you shook your head that you were tempted to make something up just to make him laugh, but you discarded the notion to stay honest.

“I was a pretty good kid.”

“Boring,” he said, shaking his head as he sat back and took another sip from the bottle.

“No it’s not!” you exclaimed indignantly, and then a memory came back to you. “Oh, I got something.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Let me guess, you, uh... Put out the silverware in the wrong places? Kept a library book past its due date?”

“Oh hush,” you said, and his teasing turned to laughter. “Or else I won’t tell you.”

“All right, all right, what?” he said, and then fell silent, although there was still a smile on his lips, his cheeks rosy above the turned-up collar of his coat.

“When I was a kid, my parents bought me a bike for my ninth birthday,” you said. “I’d outgrown my old one, and I was going to get passed down my sister’s, but she left it in the driveway once and my dad drove over it on his way to work-” that pulled a burst of laughter from Bill, “-so they had to get me a new one. It was my first day riding it, and I was going fast; you know how when you get a new bike and everything’s all new and greased up well, you can really fly?” He nodded. “Well, I was doing that, whipping down the sidewalk. It’d rained the day before and there were a few puddles, but I didn’t really care since I was wearing stuff I didn’t mind getting dirty.”

“I don’t know where this is going, but it ain’t gonna end well, is it?” Bill asked as he passed you the bottle.

“No, it’s not.” You took a sip of the burning liquid and continued. “I couldn’t see one of our neighbors walking down to the sidewalk because they had a tall hedge at the edge of their property. So I didn’t think much of the puddle in front of their house. As it happened, I flew through that puddle right as Mr. Becker got to the sidewalk in a white flannel suit.” Bill laughed gleefully. “Well, it wasn’t so white after that. He started yelling and I got scared and rode like hell all the way home. Guess I thought I was going fast enough he didn’t see my face, but that was dumb ‘cause he only lived five houses up the block and he knew exactly who I was. He came and talked to my parents and I got my bike taken away for three weeks.”

“Wow,” Bill said, laughing. “I guess you aren’t a perfect angel after all; I’m impressed!”

“I s’pose so,” you said. “Happy now?”

“Yeah, I was trying to figure out if you really stand on as high a pedestal as I thought.” He wasn’t looking at you, focused instead on unscrewing the cap from the bottle of Scotch, but you were watching him, curious.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Well, just that you seem a little more human now,” he replied, and when he met your eyes and saw the confusion on your face, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s a good thing.”

“Thanks?”

He chucked, nodding. “You’re welcome.”

The sun was sliding down toward the horizon rapidly, its weak light dying, and you nodded toward the blankets, which still hung over Bill’s shoulder. “Can I have one of those?”

“For a fee,” he said with a wink.

“Yeah? Do you accept chocolate?”

“It’s my number one form of currency these days,” he said, handing you one of the blankets as you withdrew a chocolate bar from one of your outer pockets and began to peel it open, tearing back the paper. You broke off a chunk and held it out to him, but instead of using his hands, which he had just slipped back into his pockets, he opened his mouth expectantly, and you placed the chocolate in it, cringing at the strong alcohol smell that his breath carried.

“What?” he asked as he bit down. “I got bad breath or something?” 

“Flammable, more like,” you said, breaking off a piece of chocolate for yourself.

The pair of you sat in comfortable silence then, your head resting against the door, and the blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. It was a cold night, but remarkably still, and the temperature was much more tolerable in the absence of wind. The sun set quickly as you shared the dessert, and soon full dark had fallen.

Bill pulled a pair of cigarettes from the pack in his pocket, and was searching for his lighter when a familiar fwoomp sounded from somewhere too close by, followed half a second later by another, and you barely had a chance to react before the first mortar landed just twenty feet away, exploding in flame and dirt and flying rocks, and Bill threw himself over you, crushing you back against the door, his body shielding yours as a second, and then third mortar exploded across the street. But you were barely thinking of the danger once the initial shock had passed, and the mortars’ impacts slowly moved away; instead the blood pumping through your veins, the thoughts rushing through your head- they were mostly because of Bill, how he’d reacted instantly to cover you, protecting you without any thought for his own well-being. The mortars fell farther and farther from you, and you knew the Germans didn’t really know you and he were right there - they were just trying to cause any damage they could and keep the troops there on their toes, but it didn’t stop the pounding of your heart, especially when you realized how closely Bill’s body was still pressed against yours even after the last mortar exploded and silence fell, his breath hot across your cheek as he said, “You okay?”

“Fine,” you said. “You?”

“Still in one piece, far as I can tell.” He pushed himself back a little, and steadied himself, his face just centimeters away; his gaze caught yours, and instantly you were drowning in his warm, dark eyes. He paused there for a long moment, a moment in which your heart clenched and that instinct you’d been pushing away all night told you to go ahead and make a move, but by the time you’d resolved to, the moment had already broken and he was shifting himself off you, settling back down on the stones. “Damn Krauts; never lettin’ us get a moment’s peace,” he grumbled.

You looked at him, saw the disappointment in his eyes as his hands fell into his lap, one thumbnail scratching at a rough patch on the other. You felt certain then, or at least, as certain as you thought you were going to feel, and you put away your inhibitions and let yourself speak the words on your lips.“What do you need a moment’s peace for?”

He looked over at you then, and you could read every emotion that passed across his face in the space of just a couple seconds. At first, just interest, his eyebrows raised slightly. Then a spark of curiosity, of hope, followed rapidly by uncertainty, and then, when you held his gaze, sureness, followed by…. A smirk? “You sure know how to manipulate a guy into making the first move,” he said, and then sat back, surprising you.

“I… what?” You’d been expecting him to kiss you, and you were so prepared for it, your brain lagged in adjusting when his actions diverged so sharply from the course you’d expected.

“I ain’t doing it,” he said, crossing his arms, and then his ankles, the picture of stubborn resolution, his gaze fixed on the hovel across the street. “I’m not gonna try and kiss you, just so you can pull back and act all hard to get. I know how you girls are.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh you do, do you?”

He looked back at you, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t like that look. You look like you’re plotting something.” He hunched his shoulders in a little tighter as if to protect himself from you. “You gonna stab me and steal my money?”

“What money?” you said, laughing, but when he opened his mouth to protest, an indignant expression on his face, you surged toward him and cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips firmly to his, and he stiffened, obviously startled, and then his posture softened, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him from your uncomfortable crouched position. He tasted like whiskey and chocolate, but that wasn’t what was so intoxicating about the kiss. You settled in his lap, your arms falling about his neck, one hand pulling off his helmet so you could push your fingers through his short hair as his chapped lips caressed yours, soft yet passionate. “You still think you know everything about me?” you murmured as he tugged your hair just hard enough to pull your head back, exposing your throat for him, his lips pulling a sound from you that made your cheeks redden, and you squeezed your mouth shut as he chuckled against your skin, kissing the spot he had just nipped.

“Maybe a little more than you’d like.” His voice was deep and quiet, and it alone would have been enough to make you shiver. Combined with what he was doing to you, it was nearly overwhelming, so you let your eyes close as he pulled you in a little tighter and slipped an arm inside your coat to wrap around your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

He stopped suddenly, and you opened your eyes, suddenly self-conscious, but when you looked at him, he was just smiling at you, the affection in his gaze so genuine it made your chest feel tight. “What?” you asked.

“Nothin,’” he said. “Just didn’t think joining the Army’d end me up with the prettiest girl on the western front in my lap.”

You felt your already flushed cheeks grow hotter. “You’re just saying that.”

“Think what you like; I’ll find a way to convince ya,” he said, and your heart jumped, and you leaned down to kiss him again. You knew the whiskey made you bolder than you usually would have been, but somehow, in this moment of peace, carved out from months of violence, cold, and fear, you had no doubts anymore about what you were doing. Bill had a big attitude, but it was one of the things you liked about him, and beneath all the big talk was a good man. A very good man.

“Guarnere!” Bill pulled back from the kiss, groaning at the sound of Malarkey’s voice somewhere nearby and you slipped off him, instantly missing his touch, and also his warmth as the cold night wrapped around you again. “You down here?”  Malark’s voice was at the end of the side street now, and Bill sat forward, sticking his head out of the doorway. 

“What?”

“Lip wants you for something. Sorry to interrupt whatever you got going on here.” He said the last with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, and Bill nodded.

“I’ll be right there.”

“All right.” As Malarkey’s footsteps retreated, Bill looked back at you, his expression equally frustrated and apologetic. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said before he had a chance to speak. “We’ll do this again, yeah?” 

Your words seemed to restore his good spirits, and there was a suggestive twinkle in his eye when he said, “Yeah, minus Malark cutting in.”  He stood, extending a hand to you and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. You didn’t stop yourself, letting your momentum carry you forward to press a kiss to his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a tight squeeze before he released you so you could walk out to the street.

“‘Night, Bill,” you said as you reached the main road, and he blew a kiss over his shoulder as he walked away, a swagger in his steps. It was then that you realized you’d never even thanked him for covering you when the mortars came in. But it could wait for next time.

[yet-another-saberface]

Fate/ & My Anxiety

Okay, so, I kinda had a rough day today, but that rough day really made me want to write this. I’d been thinking about it for a bit, but now I’m sure that this is something I should put out there, because I’m sure at least someone out there has had a similar experience. And if I write this correctly, it should be an interesting read anyways. (Post now updated with a cut & pretty gifs and things! I tried to keep the gifs more positive to offset some of the more serious parts of what I’m discussing.) So uh... Enjoy I guess? It’s kinda what it says on the tin.

Warning for serious mentions of anxiety and stuff. But I try to keep it lighter than it could be. For anyone else that might have some anxiety problems like me, it might help you to read this, because it’s really just a discussion of some themes I’ve taken away from the series that really helped me with my own anxiety. But whether you read it or not you should probably take a sec to breathe, that never hurts.

So. I’m going to be upfront about this. I have anxiety. Not just a normal amount of stress, but actual, diagnosed anxiety. I am not medicated, but at the moment that’s mostly because my doctors think that trying medication during this whole pandemic situation wouldn’t actually let them know if it would help me in the long term. I’ve been living with anxiety for pretty much my entire life, but I just thought everyone was stressed out, and that life sucked, and that I was bad at dealing with it. But that wasn’t the case.

But one thing is going to ring true for me regardless of what the state of my anxiety is, be it in the moment or over the course of my life. And that’s that like most things, media helped me with it before I even realized what it was. As I sit around in quarantine and try to manage my fluctuating stress levels, I’ve found myself drifting back to the Fate Series, and FGO, after taking a break from them for few months, arguably even the past year.

At this point, it’s been around 3 years, maybe even 4, since I originally discovered Fate. And I’m not going to lie, I didn’t get the best possible first impression, because I started with the Deen anime from 2005. I’d seen Saber before, had no idea who she was other than some chic I vaguely looked like with a good character design and a sword, and saw her on the cover of an anime. So I watched it. I had no idea what the hell was going on, and was trying to piece everything together as I watched, but I watched to the end. And I liked it. It definitely wasn’t my favorite show. But when I heard that it was “the bad one,” and that there was more, I gladly went to go watch it.

And that might not make sense at first, but I’m emitting a huge detail. I was, and still am, a huge mythology nerd. As I was watching the original Stay Night anime, I was fascinated by the portrayals of these characters that, technically, I already knew. And I was really into the idea that there was more of that.

So later that year, I watched Fate/Zero. And I’m gonna be honest, I was too young to really appreciate everything it had to offer, and I’m planning on going back to it soon, but I loved every second of that show. When I got the chance, I binged through it, and it was heavy stuff, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from it.

And after that, I started looking up what else there was. I watched Carnival Phantasm in maybe 2 days tops and adored it. I procrastinate on watching a lot of stuff, because I found myself having less and less time to myself, but that same summer I watched Zero, I also started playing FGO. I started the game for the characters I already knew. I stayed because I found a story I was genuinely invested in on its own, and a community that was really fun to observe, if not be an active part of. I still remember sitting down on a day when I had nothing to do and finishing Okeanos all in one go. Or laying down after a long day at school and doing the same to a ReRun event. It was a great stress outlet, and I was invested.

But the more I look back on all of that, I start to see details that explain even better why I was so invested. I don’t have a single favorite Fate character, but I will admit that I adore Saber. She’s what drew me in, my friends who know Fate apparently think I look like her, and we all know the Excalibur scene from Zero looks like it should be in an actual movie.

I won’t claim to be a character expert, despite being a writer. I didn’t write Saber, let alone any other Fate character. But the more I think about her, the more I start to realize that yeah, I understand a lot of what she’s gone through. Do I know what it’s like to be a King and run a country and what that entails? No obviously not. But I do know what it’s like to feel that you have a duty to everyone around you to not screw things up. I understand how someone could feel extremely guilty when they do eventually screw things up. There’s a lot of ways to look at any character, but I realize now that from the beginning that that specific idea was the lens through which I understood Saber.

And it holds true for most other characters. With Shirou, did I understand losing your parental figure or an undying desire to be a hero? Not really. But I did understand the fact that he felt like he wasn’t good enough, and that he gained value by putting himself on the line for others. I may not have risked my life for another person, but I’ve definitely put myself through mental stress enough to induce multiple panic attacks a day for other people.

And now we get to the part of this... I don’t want to call it an essay. The part of this post. Where I talk about Gil.

Am I aware that in most (early) depictions of him in Fate, he’s a horrible dick of a person who deserves no respect? Yes, I am.

But I also know that when I think about some of the less horrible aspects of him as a character now, there’s stuff in there I should take away that is good. I just went on an whole rant about how I can understand low self esteem and self sacrifice and crushing responsibility and the pressure to not screw it all up. And these days, I can’t stop thinking about how Saber admitted to a lot of that and (this is obviously a gross oversimplification but you should get by now that this is personal and specific) the response from Gil and Rider was “It sounds like you aren’t living life as happily as you could and are setting a bad example of how to live life for those that look up to you.” And that idea keeps coming back to me in every moment when I’m having an anxiety attack, or cram studying even though I know I’m ready, or finishing something due two weeks from now tonight because I won’t have to do it later. And it only hits me harder because I know I’m not a King or anything lofty like that, but I am a labeled “gifted student” and a support person for many of my friends and a designated “responsible one” and all of these other things. And yet I’m preaching for them to do as I say not as I do when it comes to enjoying life and taking care of yourself.

I don’t know if I fully internalized that message when I first watched that scene. But I must have in some capacity because it still haunts me now, reminding me that maybe I shouldn’t be giving into all of this stress. And I’m trying, I really am, to keep that in mind as I fight against all of it and try to keep things under control.

And then there’s Babylonia. When I really get down to it, I have a pretty strong emotional connection to this part of FGO. I joined the game pretty late, roughly right after Camelot’s release, so I had a lot of catching up to do. But I caught up, and I got to experience this story that I’d heard was one of the best in the game as it came out. If I wanted to I could say a LOT more about Babylonia, and maybe I will in the future. 

But I’m not going to deny that CasGil has been a pretty prominent presence in my mind ever since when it comes to stress and responsibility. (Heck I could probably talk about just him specifically for at least a good 5th of what I have so say about Babylonia. Maybe I will someday.) I mean, it’s kind of his thing, you see the fandom joke about it all the time how he’s the Gil that doesn’t sleep because he just keeps on working and working and working. And that’s why there was this one moment when I was watching the Babylonia anime that now stands out to me. When Gil goes with the player out to the observatory, he just leaves. He doesn’t bother apologizing to anyone or explaining his actions, he just goes. And we know, as basically an outsider, that this is him taking a break. He needed a break and so he just took a break without any clarifications or explanations or apologies. Sure he might justify it to the player has needing to do some other work out there, but that actually makes it hit harder for me. Because he’s justifying his breaks as more work.

I used to be lucky enough to have a clear cut line between what was my time and what was other people’s time (that I was giving them out of my time) and what time belonged to school/work. And now all of that has been thrown out the window and I’ve been having to teach myself how to do what I just described.

Take a goddamn break without having to tell everyone else how sorry I am for taking a day to actually rest and breathe and all those other important things. And yet I still have to justify those breaks to myself as time to take care of other things. 90% of the time, those breaks aren’t breaks to me, they’re time to work on my novel instead of my essay, or something like that.

And then I glance down at my phone and I’m hit with most of what I just wrote flooding into my head. And I try to tell myself that no, it’s okay to just take a break. And that I should be allowing myself to enjoy being alive instead of being a slave to expectations and responsibilities. And that as a person I know other people look up to I should be setting a better example of how to take care of yourself. And sometimes it works. Other times there’s more things at play and it doesn’t get through to me the same way, but it’s something that works. All of the hours I’ve spent with those character remind me that what I’m doing isn’t okay on a pretty regular basis at this point. And I’m really glad for that. And I hope that all of this stuff will continue to help me as it’s helping me right now.

At least I know that when I feel like I’m freaking out, I can open FGO and play through a quest and I’ll usually feel better. So I’m just gonna keep trying, keep managing, until I find a place where it’s finally all okay again, as much as it can be.

(P.S: More reasons that CasGil is my grailing target right now? Yeah that’s true but these reasons are deeper than “I got a Merlin look at that” or “Grailing Jalter is useful.” He’s a character that’s genuinely important to me and I think that finally investing in him is going to be really satisfying for me.)

[anyu-blue]

So a friendship ended... But luckily in this case it's absence leaves room for better things to grow.

I was rambling in the tags of my previous reblog, but yeah...

'friend' decided that Empathy and Sympathy mean the same thing, that I am not, in fact, an empath/able to put myself in others' shoes/sometimes unwilling pulled or made to feel things against my will (experience things that aren't may own), that NO ONE could feel what he feels or know what he's going through, that I have a messiah complex, that he 100% wants something (that I, being me, cannot/will not provide), and that families and friends cannot possible hold one another accountable/truly be honest with each other.

I have tried very hard for months to be patient with this man. Tried very hard to be a good friend and more. Tried very hard to give him the benefit of the doubt too. But, well, he isn't worth my time and effort I've decided.

Maybe I'm wrong in that I'm an empath and I've just got another form of psychosis. I fully admitted it was a possibility... But I was honestly helped by people being willing and able to kindly explain how they could put themselves into my shoes almost perfectly and WERE me at one point- with all my experiences and feelings... Not with the same names and faces of course, but knowing my experiences aren't so unique and I wasn't so alone as I thought was such a comfort to me. And it certainly feels like I can do the same that they were describing of being in others' shoes.. and that sometimes too it's involuntary..

Of course I was a stubborn teenager at the time I was being told all of this and going through that teenagery 'you don't know what it's like!!' stage... But I learned. I was able to step back and take stock when my hormones weren't flying all over the place (made worse by an undiagnosed hormone disorder at the time (woo nonbinary body!), but I still managed with help and good role models)... I'm sad my former friend never got that and can't clearly draw understanding of stuff like that. He's into his 30s so, well.. it's harder. I get that. In a few years almost on the dot I'll be 30 myself. I know how much harder some of this stuff is now that I'm very much an adult vs when I was a teen.

According to him though... Yes. Empathy and Sympathy are the same thing. Completely overlooking that Sympathy is having a common feeling and being able to feel sorry for someone... And empathy is SHARING a feeling and being able to experience/feel what it is that's being gone through- not just feel sorry (And I'm explaining it this way because he pulled up Definition number two of Sympathy and Definition one of empathy from google and demanded to know how they were different- common vs sharing is definitely a key difference in those Definitions... And Empathy's specified it was an ability on top of that so... Hmm). I wasn't there for that type of ignorance.

Next is the idea that his experience is SO unique I couldn't possibly understand and then his demand of me to explain how he felt if I 'thought I could'. Okay, first of all it's is heckin' RUDE to demand your friends explain how they could 'possibly know' how/why you're bothered by Something... But I did try- after telling him I wanted an apology for him being so rude as to demand that... he half apologised and mostly went into detail about his woeful feelings.... And yet when I told him I made my reply/explanation much earlier in the day and copy/pasted it to our chat from my Docs (which, to be fair, matched what he said incredibly well) he told me that I was 'just regurgitating' what he told me about how he felt. Um... You asked me how you felt and then I told you what it feels like to go through what you're going through and why it's so bothersome (because I've BEEN there myself?)... Only for you to tell me I don't understand and I'm just echoing you rather than feeling anything? Um?? Empathy is FEELING what YOU feel??? Hello??? And you asked me to describe it??? WTF? I wasn't there for THAT either.

And then he had the idea to accuse me of having a messiah complex (because he 'had one too when [he] was younger and had to learn People weren't worth saving'). Okay. I didn't 100% get what that was/didn't entirely trust my gut feeling on the Google Definition... So what did I do? I googled it. And then I asked my sister (without context) if she thought the description matched me before I replied. According to Google and my sister and the rest of my family... I do not have a messiah complex. Not the first Definition of believing to have some calling or right to heal people, nor the second Definition of believing to be responsible for helping people... As I told him I only offer bits and pieces of advice and different outlooks on the same situation because I am trying to be a good friend. Sure I HOPE it'll be helpful or someone might gain Something from it- but I'm not Sharing because I BELIEVE it will solve the problem or that I'm responsible for fixing someone (I know the line is fine and blurry, but I s2g caring for a friend by sharing stuff and believing you HAVE to help someone are TOTALLY different things)... People sharing their experiences and what works for them to help them not be so miserable is what has helped me throughout my life... it's a mark of my best friends. And I truly don't understand some social cues of how sometimes sharing advice or ideas or memories even ISN'T needed, wanted, or helpful... Obviously. (Because I'm clearly neurodivergent- uh, hello?! Can't 100% help it but trying my hardest?!)....

But according to him... I'm just blind and needed to be knocked down a few pegs rather than thinking I'm so great and could possibly understand him/anyone else... Okay. Not here for that.

I admitted to him that sure... Some of my own experiences bleed into empathetic episodes. It happens!! Like when he's told me multiple times that he's been left out with his family (no one shares information or events beyond what's ABSOLUTELY REQUIRED with him- won't tell him a family member is dying but will talk about Christmas sort of deal) and is a black sheep (different political/life views and feelings of only being tolerated) the ways he has... I put my own experiences of being neglected/abandoned into that. He swears he had always been loved and never felt alone/mistreated by his family (even though he's the one who described these things and Is partially why the feelings of abandonment popped up as I went into his shoes more or less-- but hey. Mistakes happen as do unintentional bleeds. I get that it's not perfect because ultimately I'm still me even when experiencing others. I can and will admit to skewing some things like so on accident if it's true.. but I refuse to believe I understand absolutely nothing at all when we are ALL human and typically have emotions and certain reactions to certain things. Most of us REALLY aren't THAT unique!! Sorry.. it's extremely true based on science's understanding/research anyway).

One of the last things he said to me after accusing me of the messiah complex was he just wants me to 'listen and agree' with him about stuff instead of telling him about my/other ways of looking at things, telling him he's off the mark, or trying to help with the misery.... When previously (and over and over and over) having demanded my absolute honesty and having said he appreciates what I do.... I will not lie to him and say he's right in what he's doing or does with a given situation if he's wrong or looking at it through a lens. Duh. That's 'bad' friend stuff. And sure I can listen no problem!! IF I am told outright/first that what he's saying is JUST a vent and not supposed to be a conversation at all. I've mentioned I need that sort of thing!! If it's just a vent, tell me!!! I'll stfu and listen knowing that... But I'm SORRY I CANNOT just outright TELL. It's not a skill I have!! I HAVE been attempting to get better at it... But anyone can tell you text is especially HARD. Especially when we DO have a conversation about it? A back and forth? And you NEVER once say 'i don't want your take. I just want you to listen.' Even my own sisters and I have to stop ourselves and go... Hey... I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm just venting. And then everything gets so much easier!!! And if we can open with that- 'hey, can I vent to you?' OMFGGGGGGGG it's SO much EASIER!!!

... and yet still.. following that... I am INCREDIBLY LUCKY... Because in venting or in sharing and asking for advice and more... MY family is made up of the type of people who can step back and be unbiased!!! And we can stop each other and TELL each other if we are, in fact, fucking up!!! I mean sure... There's always going to be that love and desire for better for one another... Be ALL of us are under the impression that sometimes the people we love are WRONG and sometimes they are BAD no matter how much we don't want them to be.. and it's far kinder to be honest and take the 'right' side than to give each other all the quarters we want. We cannot learn and/or grow if we cannot hold each other accountable... And Sharing experiences and saying why is designed to be a kindness no matter if it actually helps them or not.. But guess what my 'friend' thought of that? ROFL I was obviously under the incorrect impression and my family will always take MY side simply because I'm family...

In the end...

I do NOT need a 'friend' like that. Who questions everything I do, demands more of me/everyone than I/anyone can provide, who cannot and will not learn or be open to learn in any form, and who takes - dude, you're pissing me off. Fuck off for the night and maybe we can talk again in the morning once we've both gotten sleep- as a 'challenge' to prove this that or the other thing and attack their friend... What the ever loving FUCK is WRONG with you?!

... if you want to know what started this whole thing... He was complaining that none of his friends 'will' hang out with him anymore. Totally understandable to feel awful and lonely (and everything I described to him that he demanded I do)...

But he kept taking it father saying people always changed their schedules on purpose or clearly had nothing else going on in their lives but avoided him anyway and stuff like that... And I dared to question and suggest that some of us DO have good reasons for canceling and not spending the time he wants/needs... That some of us have offered compromises that have never been enough but we still try and SOMETIMES life really DOES just get in the way!!! Like my being sick all the time!! I don't WANT to stay cooped up in my house every day fearing even a passing cold will knock me off my feet!! But dude!! I HAVE to!! And People don't USUALLY demand schedule changes!! It usually kinda gets thrust upon them!! Hello??? Don't we live in america where that's WIDELY KNOWN?! Where sometimes people CAN'T take what little spare time they have and spend it on YOU?? ESPECIALLY during a PANDEMIC and other big changes??? That sometimes that time NEEDS to be taken up with simple pleasures like a single player game in their own home?! Don't People USUALLY have reasons for their habits too? Prerogatives/needs that they don't or can't share with others during those habits because MAYBE it's what they need and you just happen not to be a part of it but could be if you actually ASKED what was going on?! Or idk... LISTENED to what they're telling you about WHY-- especially when you yourself admit you are the ODD one who needs other people physically around to recharge (where most other people don't/only get more exhausted)?!

In the end... I did tell him that sure... If he's treating his other friends like this (which clearly he was treating me pretty darn awfully) then maybe YEAH some of them do it on purpose. We already know how younger brother (my ex) does and that he's not exactly shy about that. Friends may do it on purpose eventually- especially if he's treating People awfully and accusing them of doing it on purpose when they DON'T have control over it... Maybe they WILL migrate to doing it on purpose because of the accusations and inability to make him believe life is just messy sometimes!! But they don't want to lose an occasionally really great friend (because good or bad losing a friend is HARD on the mind and body) and/or don't see how manipulated they are?

In which case... He deserves it. Just like he deserved my wrath (at least in part- I was told I took it a bit too far in that I didn't block him sooner. I did make that mistake for sure XP) when he decided to be so fucking rude to me and then piss all over my efforts to try and be what constitutes a good friend.

Fuck you, dude. You're clearly not worth my time.

And of course the very very last word he had was 'you deserve better friends than I am right now.'

Which, while true and would have been sweet, is something I know (and he has admitted to in the past) is a 'feel sorry for me' tactic. It's not 100% true remorse any more than 'oh no I fucked up and don't want to deal with the consequences of my fucking up, maybe this will get them to feel sorry and let me do it again/get away with it.' I've used it too and understand the tactic all too well. So again I say and know he's not worth my damn time.

Without him in that space of my life... I have more room for others and especially more for myself. I don't need that toxicity. I've been that person too and I know it. I still have my days. And yet it's still okay and good I've walked away.

Fuck you, dude. You're clearly not a friend for me.

[thelatelockdownlist]

A Series on Series 01: Bridgerton

Hi. I’m Alex, a YouTube newbie. 

I resurrected this channel mostly because I wanted to do this thing. It’s something I’d planned back in 2019 and never got around to it because I was too lazy. However… life happened and I thought that with everything that happened in 2020, I should stop procrastinating. So I did nothing in 2020 -- aside from the usual like work. I was one of the lucky ones whose only inconvenience really was being unable to go outside when I wanted to -- which, to be honest, wasn’t really that often. In ordinary circumstances, I don’t really like going out. But the thought of having an actual lockdown order PREVENTING me from going out, well, that’s a whole ‘nother thing.

So 2020 was a bust, but I wanted 2021 to be different. However long this pandemic is going to go, I wanted to make better use of my ‘free’ time.

On to the show. I’m doing A Series on Series, where I talk about my favorite book series. I figured since I read a lot of them, might as well talk about them right here. So let’s start with what’s currently popular: Bridgerton.

So I watched Bridgerton on Netflix the day it came out in my country, January 1. 

I’d actually read the Julia Quinn series -- all eight books -- years ago. After I watched the first season, I went back and reread the first book in the series which is the basis for this first season.

Just a disclaimer: I’m watching this through the lens of someone who has read historical romance novels almost my entire life. I understand that there are a lot of issues that should/need to be addressed here like race. However, as I’ve read the books that this series is based on, I know the period in which it’s set. That is to say, the characters are mostly white and mostly straight. It’s the overarching theme of most historical romance novels.

With that said, it’s not to say that I won’t have comments about current issues that we see play out in the series, but I just want to ground this -- this whole thing -- on my own experience mostly because that’s really my frame of reference. 

On the race issue, my comments are going to be from someone who is a person of color BUT has lived all of my life in a country, Philippines, where we’re really mostly just one race. There are a lot of biracial people in my country, but for the most part our issues are nothing compared to what black people have experienced and are experiencing everywhere -- especially in the U.S. What I’m saying is, I am aware of the Black Lives Matter movement and I agree with what they stand for and what they’re fighting for. What I’m also saying is that as a person of color who lives in a country with people who have the same skin color as I am, I don’t have the same issues of representation in the media. In OUR media here, I am very much represented. However, in the U.S. people of color are in the minority and struggle with representation. I’m saying that now because we’re going to come back to that later. Also most of my comments are going to be from the lens of someone who identifies herself as a decades’ long (yes, I’m aware that I’m aging myself) historical romance reader. However, even though I used to be the kind of reader who belongs to the ‘the author is dead’ school of thought, these days, one finds it difficult to divorce the author from the work. 

From “The Death of the Author,” an essay by French literary theorist, essayist, philosopher, critic and semiotician Roland Barthes. Basically, it says that the author does not factor in the reading of their work -- that their words get to be interpreted by the reader however they may. The point is not to try to understand what the author’s intentions are, and just focus on the actual work itself.

I went to school for this so I’m going to have to balance the death of the author vs my own thoughts -- immediate and otherwise -- when it comes to what I read. 

So we’re good? If not, I’ll come back to it -- if you’re still here. [wink]

So in this first episode of A Series on Series: Bridgerton, I’m going to talk about my impressions regarding the series and then point out the differences between the Netflix Season 1 and the first book, The Duke and I.

First impression of the series & some issues:

I was pleasantly surprised to see a black man play the Duke of Hastings.

In the book, he is described as tall, dark-haired and with ice-blue eyes.

Also a pleasant, surprise? Queen Charlotte played by a black woman.

You see, some historians believe that Queen Charlotte was Britain’s first black queen.

She was born the youngest daughter of a duke and a princess in the Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz in northern Germany. She married King George III -- yes, of Hamilton’s ‘You’ll Be Back.’

However, in this timeline set years after that, he’s more The Madness of King George.

Going back, historians are split about this because while some believe they can trace her lineage to the mixed-race branch of the Portuguese royal family and that the royal physician of her time described her as having a “true mulatto face,” other historians say that it’s never been proven. 

History says that she might be black or she might not be. In the series, she is, and I had absolutely no problem believing from the get-go that the black actress playing her is in fact, Queen Charlotte. 

Some people actually point out the casting of black people in the series -- not just the Duke and the Queen -- but others as well like Lady Danbury, the late Duke and the current Duke’s sparring partner, Will Mondrich -- as race baiting. 

Merriam-Webster defines it as the making of verbal attacks against members of a racial group. But that’s the 1961 definition. However, its other definition says it’s  the unfair use of statements about race to try to influence the actions or attitudes of a particular group of people. This, I think, applies better. 

As someone who isn’t black, I feel like my opinion doesn’t hold much water here -- or at least not the ‘diamond of the first water.’ Yeah, yeah. I went there.

But for me, since the series creator -- who is white -- made a big deal of wanting a diverse cast and ‘colorbind’ casting, a lot of hype surrounded the casting of black people in these particular roles -- who are white in the book. I think certain expectations were set -- whether intentionally or not -- about what it means to cast black people in historically white roles. Hence, the issue of race-baiting. 

Was that an issue for me? No. But I’m not black and I’m not the one who may or may not be baited. So what I say isn’t exactly something you can hang your hat on. However, I’ll say it anyway. I like the black actors who play their characters. 

In the book, Simon is almost god-like because of how handsome he is. The actor who plays him, really hot. I don’t mind that he doesn’t have ice-blue eyes. 

Lady Danbury is my favorite character because of her interactions with Simon and how fierce she is as a friend and aunt. She doesn’t feature much in the book. 

Queen Charlotte, also not in the book, is great. I especially liked her in that scene with George who was lucid one moment and then crazed the next. I didn’t think this at the time, but she must have both pitied him and been afraid for herself because he did threaten her. And what does that threat really mean for her? Is it just for her? Or for her people as well? 

Because as Simon says later during his conversation with Lady Danbury, their ‘elevation’ relies on the whims of this madman. 

The late Duke, well, he was just mean. But that part, when he gets so mad that Simon can’t speak -- I sort of understand why he wants a perfect child. It’s self-preservation. He says that their situation is precarious, that what they have will only remain theirs as long as they remain extraordinary. I felt that vehemence there. While I don’t condone it -- after all, he’s doing this ranting at a child, his child -- I understand the reason behind it. Book OG Duke doesn’t have that reason. 

The series kind of followed the book. There were certain departures, but it didn’t really bother me. 

For those of you who have not seen the series and/or read the book and don’t want any spoilers, leave now. 

Okay. 

SPOILER ALERT

The first 9 minutes (more or less) in the series don’t actually appear in the book. But it does a good job of setting up this world. We’re introduced to the Featheringtons and the Bridgertons. 

In the first book, the Featheringtons don’t really feature as much. Also, the Baron is dead there. Then there’s Marina Thompson, the Featheringtons’ distant cousin --

Not in the book.

Then there’s Lord Anthony, Viscount Bridgerton and his mistress’ (Siena) amorous activities -- also not in the book.

But I suppose it’s there to give us a glimpse of his character. You know, that he’s a playa.

Also, in the book, Daphne has come out -- as in debuted -- for nearly two seasons. In the series, it’s actually her first time hence the presentation to the queen. 

Lady Danbury’s ball is in the book, but Daphne’s entrance which causes a stir due to her being proclaimed as ‘flawless’ by the Queen and --

#recordscratch

Did you think I’d forgotten about Lady Whistledown? Of course not. Especially when she’s voiced by Julie Andrews. I love that they chose her to be Lady Whistledown, but for the purpose of this comparison, I won’t be dwelling much on her, as much as I love Dame Julie Andrews.

#backtoourregularprogramming

Lady Whistledown as ‘a diamond of the first water’ doesn’t happen in the book. While book Daphne was by no means unattractive, according to her: ‘no one was dazzled by her beauty, stunned into speechlessness by her presence…’

Then there’s how Daphne and Simon meet. In the series, Daphne bumps into Simon accidentally, trying to escape Nigel Berbrook. In the book… it’s a little complicated.

First, there’s when and where (and really how their ‘grand scheme’ is concocted). In the series, it happens at Vauxhall Gardens where Simon overhears Daphne and Nigel Berbrook arguing. Then he discovers them after Daphne hits Lord Berbrook when he tries to assault her. Then Simon concocts the scheme with the dramatic cutaways of them rejoining the crowd as they watch the fireworks. 

In the book, this actually happens at Lady Danbury’s ball (which we see in the series; the ball. The scene with Berbrook does happen, but it’s at the ball, off a corner. It’s how Daphne and Simon actually met. Anyway, it’s a whole coverup. They leave the unconscious Berbrook and they go back to the ballroom, separately.

Simon meets Daphne’s brothers and they end up introducing him to Daphne and they both agree to pretend that they’d never met before. Anyway, Simon gets all these looks from Lady Featherington and the other mamas and feels the need to escape. He then asks Daphne to dance. 

THIS is where and when they concoct the scheme. The plan -- thought of by Simon, same in the series -- actually happens during this -- their first dance at that ball. AFTER their witty repartee, while waltzing. They multitask. 

And unlike what happens in the series, the scheme didn’t happen because Daphne needed to be saved from ruin. Simon proposed it because he wanted an out from being stalked by ambitious mamas and offered it to Daphne AND this is a departure from the series -- to make her more desirable to other men. 

See, in the book, Daphne always gets FRIENDZONED. I know, I know… but the term really does apply to her here. And with no malice, really. 

They don’t view her as someone desirable. She says that she’s still unmarried “because everyone sees me as a friend. No one ever has any romantic interest in me. Except Nigel.”

So Simon’s reason of “men are always interested in a woman if they think other men are interested,” which he also says in the series is due to this. 

So to sum up the difference: In the series, it’s to save Daphne from ruin; in the books, it’s so she no longer gets friendzoned. 

So they both agree and the next day…

In the series, Daphne and Simon start to hang out and they go out on dates. 

Kind of the same in the books, BUT they let Anthony in on the secret. 

Anthony was incensed because Simon appears to be breaking the bro code. You know, the one where family is off limits? So they had to tell him. Of course he thinks it’s stupid, but goes along with it because he does see the benefits for Daphne. 

In the series, Anthony is in the dark.

Anyway, the dates. BECAUSE this is a historical romance novel set in the regency period, book Simon isn’t quite so bold. The spoon scene?

Not in the book.

The scene where Simon basically gives WAP tips to Daphne?

Not in the book.

And the biggest plot in the series that isn’t in the book?

Yeah... he’s not in the book.

But the part where Anthony catches them in flagrante delicto? 

That happens.

And the duel?

In the book.

The heartfelt speech to the queen?

Not in the book.

The scene where Mama Bridgerton tries (and fails) to explain the birds and the bees? 

Happens. And it’s actually funnier in the book because Daphne asks her, “So you did this eight times?” (whisper) And her mother blushes furiously and says that, no, not just eight times because sometimes you do it because you like to. 

Read the book. I found it funnier than the scene on Netflix. For one, Daphne is actually quite eager for this conversation “I’ve waited for this all week.” -- which shocks Mama. 

The wedding?

Kind of the same, since Daphne only remembered the funny moments -- which were not shown in the series. 

And I know you’re waiting for this: the wedding night. 

Um, they were different. 

For one thing, the ‘I burn for you’ line?

Not in the book.

In the series, their wedding night was pretty intense.

In the book, it starts out funny because remember Simon telling Daphne how he couldn’t marry her because he CAN’T have children? Well, Daphne -- having had what passes for sex education for women in Regency England -- thought that meant he COULDN’T have sex -- as in he’s impotent. Which sends Simon into paroxysms of laughter. 

And then there was sexing. 

But in the book, the sexing was confined mostly in the bedroom. 

In the series, it was everywhere, including the bedroom. You know, the library (against a ladder), the mausoleum, in front of the swans near the lake 

all to the tune of an orchestral version of Taylor Swift’s ‘Wildest Dreams.’ 

BUT

You know the course of true love never runs smooth. Our lovely couple has to hit a snag. And it’s in the form of animal husbandry, planting and a little putting of two-and-two together.

How Daphne finds out is sort of the same, but also different. 

Like I mentioned before, I’d read this years ago. I’d forgotten about the particulars of this. So when I saw this scene in the Netflix series, I somehow sort of hazily remembered that that’s not what happened in the book. But as soon as I re-read it, I had to put it down. Not because the scene was well-written. But because I just had so many problems with it. 

Which kind of makes me thankful that they changed it for Netflix. Because in the series, Simon doesn’t come inside Daphne but this is also what convinces her that he DID lie to her. Remember that earlier scene when Mrs. Colson, the housekeeper, tells Daphne the story of Simon’s parents? How his mother died in childbirth and how his father always wanted a son and blamed his wife when she miscarries? Then Mrs. Colson says, “A womb won’t quicken without strong, healthy seed.” 

In the series, Daphne clues in to this when during one of their romps, AFTER she’d spoken with Mrs. Colson and the wheels started turning, she noticed Simon spend on her handkerchief. She then marches to her maid’s room and asks her for essentially a rushed version of sex ed. Then after Daphne and Simon have dinner, they have sex… and I honestly don’t know if Simon came in her or not. But that’s when she accuses him and Simon basically admits it, they then fight. From then on, their marriage becomes strained and they sleep in separate bedrooms. So that awful scene in the book doesn’t exactly appear in the series. 

Book Simon comes home drunk because he and Daphne had been fighting because of THE LIE. He manages to convince her to stay with him in bed, and she does. Then she is awakened later and as she talks to him and starts basically caressing him in his sleep, he responds. Which she realizes that this is when she could do WHATEVER she wanted, have WHATEVER she wanted.

So she basically giddyups and rides him like a cowgirl and being super extra, impressing even Simon, as is written in the book. BUT things take a turn when he starts climaxing and she essentially uses what strength she has to pin him down so he couldn’t pull out. 

He’s angry and is feeling betrayed and then he starts to stutter -- which makes him angrier, with her, with himself. He’s just a confusing mass of emotions at this point. 

And then he leaves for one of his other estates. Daphne goes to London and her brothers visit. One day, she assumes she’s pregnant and sends a letter with Anthony to send to Simon. Simon receives said letter and promptly sets out for London. 

In the series, this doesn’t happen. They’re basically living separate lives, apart from posing for a portrait, several social engagements and a ball. 

In the book, Simon goes after Daphne who’d been out riding at Hyde Park and she tells him that as it turns out she’s not pregnant. They don’t exactly resolve things there, but at least they’re talking. Daphne’s brothers sort of accost them at Simon’s house demanding that he convinces them that he loves her. Which sort of terrifies Daphne, but Simon takes her to another part of the house and in there actually professes his love, which he does unknowingly in front of her brothers who followed them. 

And then sex. This time they both finish. Together. Inside. With enthusiastic consent. On both sides.

In the series, we have sort of the same but in the rain. Not just the Bridgerton boys as audience, but all of their guests. 

Then sex. This time they both finish. Together. Inside. With enthusiastic consent. On both sides.

In the series, it ends with Daphne giving birth to Simon’s heir. Then we see them saying good bye to Colin who’s off to tour the continent. Book Colin actually returned FROM the continent the night of Lady Danbury’s ball. 

Then we get a hint of the next season, knowing that it’s going to be Anthony’s turn. 

AT THE END OF THE DAY

What do I think?

Well, the series was HIGHLY entertaining. I enjoyed watching it, which, for me, is the chief purpose of TV shows like this. So that’s one box checked.

Was it faithful to the book?

Largely, yes. And whatever departures it made didn’t take away from the book, IMO. 

Was I bothered about the ‘colorblind’ casting?

No. Like I said before, I had no problems believing the black actors were the characters they played. It wasn’t a shock and it certainly wasn’t distracting. 

So I loved it; I may rewatch it from time to time while waiting for Season 2 as we go into Anthony’s story in, The Viscount Who Loved Me.

[reimenaashelyee]

Making Historical Fiction

Specifically, graphic novels. Note: this isn’t a how-to tutorial. This is a blog about my personal philosophy to making comics that are set in historical contexts.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit (read: too much) about how I approach making historical fiction. Especially during The Carpet Merchant, and even more so as I’m in the process of creating the Alexander Comic. Both are similar books, but with very different angles.

Thank you to anyone who has expressed their appreciation for the research and thought I have put into The Carpet Merchant. That’s very sweet and appreciated! As an eternal student who isn’t a professional academic (the dream of being in academia is now long gone), I try my best to depict historical material with the respect, sensitivity and nuance it deserves. As one should when making any fiction about cultures and/or peoples who have lived before and whose descendents are around in whatever way. Personally, I think this approach and similar should be standard for any writer, but anyway. It’s nice to know people appreciate the work I’ve done, which I enjoy doing so much, because I’m a geek lmao.

The most common question I get about The Carpet Merchant is why I made it. It’s a mundane and boring answer so I won’t iterate. Just know that I didn’t intend to make some grand narrative, and the story becoming a 600 paged epic was actually a happy accident that I went along with. It was also my first REAL, full-length and completed graphic novel, made when I was/am very young (I wrote Vol I when I was 21, and Vol II at 22-23). Which meant that it was where I learned and adopted my current approach to making stuff similar, like the Alexander Comic. The approach is pretty stable. It boils down to these things:

1. Actively think and consider the sources and biases of the research material. Even more vigorously for yourself. Your own ideas, motivations, assumptions. Nothing escapes the microscope. 2. Empathy. Remembering that history is not a long dead calcified totem, but a dynamic, ever changing force, with interactions between the past and present. The empathy is in acknowledgement to the ancestors, their descendents, and the multiple perspectives by historians, scholars and keepers of the tradition. 3. Recognising your own privilege as a storyteller, and understanding that no matter how well you do this, you’re still bound by situated knowledge. The best you can do is go as deep as possible.

What’s an interesting development now is how this approach is going to facilitate and produce the different goals for each project.

With The Carpet Merchant, due to the nature of the material (a Muslim protagonist turns into a vampire/djinni), it called for kind, empathetic writing. I set very strict rules about the depiction of violence in general (basically, almost none. The only violence is an accidental blood-sucking, plus implied animal consumption). But no outright violence is ever depicted on Zeynel. Zeynel also cannot be violent, mostly because it’s not his personality (he cries a lot and very openly), but also, having him engage in violence will only perpetuate the same garbage nonsense you see in Western media about Muslim men. It’s nonsense that dates back to the 14th century. The same rule goes towards racism, which is only relevant to Vol II when it starts mocking white people indulging in Orientalism. The subject of the mockery must always be on the perpetuators and never the victims. Because again, Orientalism is part of the same garbage nonsense dating back to medieval times. It’s all entangled and related and obviously, if you aren’t aware of the context (or experienced it yourself, like I have), you end up contributing to the garbage nonsense tradition *(coughs) that Kokila graphic novel about a boy in a library* So what the comic ends up being is that it is very sweet to its characters, and extremely salty about Orientalism. There’s no other way I can think of that further minimises the harm this kind of story can possibly inflict (if done badly). Then again, I’m a person with situated knowledge. I only do the best I am able.

With the Alexander Comic, it’s presenting itself to be a different thing entirely. I’m dealing with a historical person with a lot of baggage and a lot of fluff. Alexander needs the same respect, sensitivity and nuance as the material of TCM. But this time, Alexander’s legacy will go through the salt machine, like Orientalism in TCM did. All to shave off the fluff, rather than mock him. He was afterall still a flawed person. The MO I currently have for this comic is to deconstruct Alexander. Take him down from the pedestal, scrub away the whitewash, put colour back in. Which means one Important Thing: shifting away from the Eurocentric lens of ancient Greece and its literature. I believe I can’t treat Alexander justice, unless I destroy (gleefully) the Eurocentric white walls surrounding him and his context. Which brings me to another important idea that I have been thinking about recently.

Why do I do this? Let’s be honest. How many minority creators do you know who write historical fiction, let alone COMICS? It’s always the same type of person, over and over again. White, Western, educated cis men. While diverse perspectives in history academia are growing (or have always been there), you can’t really say the same about prose fiction. You CANNOT DEFINITELY say it about comics. If I, for example, back out of working on Alexander because of how loaded he is, the loss of a perspective will be huge. Alexander will always be written by white men in their European/American homes. Alexander has never been written by a Southeast Asian queer woman from the global south (with no empathy for a nationalist agenda). To hell if I let historical comics be dominated by Westerners. No way.

And that’s the whole blog post. Just been thinking about this stuff lately. I’m slowly hovering towards the Research Hell Phase of the Alexander Comic, and it’s interesting to contextualise it as a follow-up to a comic I’ve already done.

[disasterganes]

been thinkin about gender more. & sexuality & all that stuff. just some personal stuff that i want to put out into the world because i hate hiding who i am at this point in my life. 

you know i’m ?? so deeply grateful that pride exists. i’m so deeply grateful that people can share their stories and everyone gets a chance to be heard but also to listen and to consider things that they hadn’t before and -- idk. i just feel like some of the things i’ve been hearing and seeing and reading lately have really helped me come more to terms with who i am ?? first and foremost among them the fact that i’m not the only person still adjusting to labels and discovering themselves at twenty seven is like -- an incredible relief. i already feel so much pressure to hit certain milestones and have such intense fear that’s, yes, part of my anxiety disorder, but also stems from my complicated relationship with myself, my body, my identity. 

i’d never considered, until extremely recently, that the reason i’m so heavily triggered by the idea of having kids or other people having kids is because the heteronormativity terrifies me because i can’t and don’t want to fit into it. to me, personally, it’s this tangible marker of adhering to a lifestyle, a label, a life that i can’t access. i’m disabled, i’m gay (we’ll get to that), i don’t fit into the ideal mold that exemplifies western standards of beauty. i have always been on the outside -- alienated from my race, from friends, from my sexual identity, from the hallmarks of womanhood in a male-dominated society. i never had boyfriends, i never played the part of The Girl, and the recent pressure i’ve been feeling (mostly from family, but also the intense number of friends hitting more “stereotypical” milestones every single month that passes) to move into the next phase of my life -- it really stems from how alienated i have always, always, always felt throughout my life. 

this is N O T to say that ANY OF THIS IS REAL. logically and in my heart, of course queer folks can have families, and of course there’s no such thing as normal, stereotypical, that it’s all societally constructed. bisexuality, pansexuality, sexual fluidity -- all valid! hitting certain milestones is not invalidating of one’s queerness! 

the only person i hold to these archaic, misogynistic, and frankly homophobic standards to is myself. it’s so genuine and so easy to accept and love other people -- but i don’t know myself and i fall back on all the bullshit that i heard in my childhood -- my roman catholic italian family, my catholic school years, the fact that twenty seven years ago conversations like this weren’t happening, at least not in my neck of the woods. i repressed myself, deeply, throughout my whole life. i wasn’t honest and i wasn’t brave and because of that i didn’t open myself up to the idea of having a queer friend group, of those experiences. 

straightness and gayness has defined me my entire life. i didn’t like boys so i fixated on boys that didn’t like me so i wouldn’t be at fault when they ignored me, humiliated me in front of the school, got nasty with me, made fun of me. i picked bullies to give my heart to as a way of distancing myself from the responsibility of owning my complexities and standing up for my truths, since they would reject me anyway. i cried and panicked when i was thirteen and realized that my fantasies included girls. i went through puberty ignoring my body and my heart and played it as safe as possible. 

that is how i live my life: safe. i don’t take risks. i don’t move quickly. i don’t want because wanting means that you open yourself up to others wanting you, and being desired is more terrifying than being rejected. 

when i say i hate myself, it’s not that i hate the choices i make, things about my body or my personality. i hate BEING myself -- it’s like being trapped in a sarcophagus, being in this body and mind with everything that i’ve experienced. it’s confusing and terrifying and exhausting. i hate me, as a creature that lives, because it’s so damn hard to understand what or who i am, ever.

i alienated myself from womanhood because it didn’t fit the ideal that my mother had planned for me. (and she supports me, has never threatened to kick me out, doesn’t hate me, but it doesn’t erase years of my close minded family filling me with ancient catholic rhetoric about acceptable and unacceptable.) i’m terrified that not wanting kids makes me a bad person, but wanting them makes me less than what i am. i told my therapist, once, that i’d be okay being a dad. because that makes more sense to me -- less commitment, fewer expectations. i have been crushed by the expectations of my gender my entire life, and i have always felt like my gender was decided, determined, and owned by everyone else but me. 

and maybe that is why i don’t actually feel like a woman. i don’t feel like a man. i don’t feel in between -- i don’t feel anything. i perform like a woman, but the only time i feel myself inhabiting my gender is when i let myself explore my feelings for other women, even in the locked recesses of my own mind. gender, to me, is not a thing i inhabit -- it’s a thing i show then put away when i’m alone because it doesn’t feel right. i’m not thin, i’m not pretty, i’m not able bodied or sound of mind. and none of that matters, none of that is REAL because it’s all based on what society has said but that’s the thing -- it doesn’t matter if it’s all bullshit, because it’s still affecting me. the toxicity of beauty, of body type, of ableism -- it has completely poisoned my ability to see and know and understand who i am, because for the LIFE of me i can’t dismantle the lens of this goddamn white-centric male-centric hetero-centric cis-centric fucked up society that we live in. it’s necessary work, to say no to these ideals. but i can’t do it for myself no matter how hard i try. 

it’s terrifying, to think it might never happen. that i’ll never know myself. time is so short and moves so fast and even though i’m trying to merely enjoy it -- it’s a constant Thing in the back of my mind. but hearing others’ stories gives me a kind of courage it has taken twenty seven years to cultivate. and it’s not even a lot of courage at that, but it’s a start -- to begin the process of maybe dismantling my gender a little. to get to know myself. to open up. to move past the traumas that i’ve experienced in my quest to not rock the proverbial boat and play at being straight and a Traditional Woman. maybe one day seeing engagement and expecting posts on facebook won’t send me into a panic attack and make me vomit. maybe one day i’ll be happy with who i am, or just happy in general (since i can’t remember what happy feels like to begin with). maybe one day all those things won’t feel like a threat, a reminder of my failure to fit in with a toxic society. but what i’m going to start with is just being -- and any time i feel myself scared of a choice, that’s the choice i’m going to try to make. because playing it safe, so far, has entombed me in a prison of heteronormativity. 

thank god for pride. thank god for real and fictional stories that have created more pathways towards the freedom of expression and self acceptance. maybe, one day, even self love. 

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 25

The apocalypse? In your lifetime? (It’s more common than you might think! Click here to find out why)

Er. I mean. I return, featuring Sheriam and Egwene.

Chapter 25: In Darkness

That title, the Black Ajah chapter icon, and the first word is ‘Sheriam’. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Things were going quite well for once.

Uh huh. Sure. You really should know better than to say things like that. Or even think them. Especially when you’re a secondary-at-best character in epic fantasy and have very probably sold your soul. There’s tempting fate, and then there’s flinging yourself off a thousand-foot cliff in the form of a goldfish.

Confirmation, in case any was needed, that Halima/Aran’gar was the one from that brief scene of Sheriam being punished.

Well, so long as Egwene was away, that tent was functionally Sheriam’s for all but sleeping. After all, an Amyrlin’s Keeper was expected to look after her affairs.

Sheriam smiled again.

If she had a moustache, she’d be twirling it right now.

Pain would come again. There was always agony and punishment involved in the service she gave.

Not sure I’d put that on the recruitment posters – I’m still partial to ‘Immorality for Immortality’ myself – but points for honesty.

But she had learned to take the times of peace and cherish them.

Oh, the irony. Swear yourself to a force of chaos and destruction and only then learn the value of peace. That is bitter.

At times, she wished she’d kept her mouth closed, not asked questions. But she had, and here she was.

Now who does that sound like? Hmmm…

And, separately, I want a story sometime where asking questions isn’t punished. Not that it doesn’t make for good stories when they are – seeking out truth need not necessarily be painless, and it’s certainly not unrealistic to have negative consequences of digging too far, or asking the wrong questions of the wrong people – but it also seems to be one of those story elements that so often goes unquestioned (if you’ll pardon the slight pun). As someone who comes from a scientific background, where the entire purpose is to ask questions of the world and see any answer at all as a reward, I’d like to see someone at some point take a different angle on this trope. Mostly just because I think it’d be interesting, and as a reader I’d be curious to see how that kind of premise would work, and what would result from it. One for the wishlist…

Not infrequently she wished she’d chosen the Brown

NOW WHO DOES THAT SOUND LIKE? HMMM.

and hidden herself away in a library somewhere, never to see others.

I mean sure, that’s one way of being Brown, but.

There was no use wondering about what could have happened.

NOW. WHO. DOES. THAT. SOUND. LIKE?

She wasn’t so naïve as to feel guilty about the things she’d done. Every sister in the White Tower tried to get ahead; that’s what life was about! There wasn’t an Aes Sedai who wouldn’t stab her sisters in the back if she thought it would give her advantage. Sheriam’s friends were just a little more…practiced at it.

Hey, I’m not judging; as a Slytherin I can appreciate some honest, pragmatic, amoral ambition.

But why had the end of days had to come now of all times?

But I am laughing. If you’re going to sell your soul, you’d better read the fine print and make absolutely sure the deal is worth it, even when the price is called in in full. Sheriam seems to be more of a realist than some, but not quite realistic enough. Area Woman Never Expected To Actually Pay Her Mortgage.

And there’s the actual confirmation of Black Ajah. So…what does it say about the Aes Sedai that at one point, both women claiming the title of Keeper were Black Ajah?

It’s ‘blood and ashes’ or ‘blood and bloody ashes’ never has it been just ‘bloody ashes’ yes this is a nitpick no I shouldn’t care yes I care anyway because of Who I Am As A Person.

Sheriam opened her eyes to find a jet-black figure standing above her cot; slivers of moonlight passing through the fluttering tent flaps were just enough to outline the figure’s form. It was clothed in an unnatural darkness, ribbons of black cloth fluttering behind it, the face obscured by a deep blackness.

#aesthetic but why do I get the sudden feeling we’re in a 2006 music video?

Also, Halima had never come in such a…dramatic way.

Embrace the emo, Sheriam. Just go with it. Don’t question. Only ‘90s children will understand, etc.

(I feel like I should be posting this on myspace or something. How did we end up here? I have no idea and I’m so sorry).

“Egwene al’Vere. She must be deposed.”

Good fucking luck. That girl has as much ambition as all of you and she serves a Righteous Cause. You may as well just give up now. Accept it. Write a song about it and move on.

(Look I don’t even know. It’s been a while, okay?)

“It was by orders from one of the Chosen that I helped raise her as Amyrlin in the first place!”

“Yes, but we’ve done a companywide reorg and sometimes that just means reversing every single thing anyone has accomplished in the last six months; also she doesn’t work here anymore so I’m your boss now.”

“Yes, but she has proven to have been a…poor choice.”

That’s one way of putting it. It’s almost too bad you didn’t try to recruit her; that would have been hilarious.

Sheriam hesitated. Her first instinct was to lie or hedge—this seemed like information she could hold over the figure. But lying to one of the Chosen? A poor choice.

(Somewhere in a distant universe, Marisa Coulter is laughing at you).

But that’s the value of having legend and 3000 years on your side; The Forsaken may be only human but so much has been built up around their names and image that most don’t even dare to challenge them. Useful, that.

Stealing the ter’angreal could be a nuisance for Egwene, though. Not an insurmountable one, because this is Egwene al’Vere we’re talking about, but more and more things are drawing to a point where it all has to come to a head soon. Egwene imprisoned having forced Elaida’s hand, the sisters in the Tower just starting to listen to her, the rebels growing less and less certain of Egwene’s return, some beginning to talk about moving someone else into her tent, Lelaine setting herself up to be the next Amyrlin, and now Sheriam about to try preventing the dream-meetings. Something has to happen and soon to break the deadlock and prevent a slide back into inertia.

Oh, speak of the Amyrlin and she doth appear. Hi Egwene.

Her two days of imprisonment had not been pleasant, but she would suffer them with dignity. Even if they locked her away in a tiny room with a door that wouldn’t let in light. Even if they refused to let her change from the bloodied novice dress. Even if they beat her each day for how she had treated Elaida.

Because that worked out so well for you last time, Elaida. Anyway, at least now I know who to call next time I need to move house; Elaida’s very good at boxing things up.

Of course, as with everything else about the theme-and-variation of the parallels between Rand and Egwene, this is presented in an entirely different tone and through a very different lens than Rand’s imprisonment. I know I talk about this a lot but it’s because playing with the possibilities narrative symmetry offers is one of my favourite things, and this is such a well-done example over such a long stretch of series now; give two different characters situations or arc elements or paths that on the very surface are similar, and use these to highlight all the variations. It’s like controlling your variables; you can take two similar characters and throw them at entirely different problems, or you can take similar problems and throw them at two very different characters. You can also just write two completely different stories without the thread of similarity but this way feels so much more satisfying. It gives a unifying theme or undercurrent to two characters who spend almost the entire series thus far diverging. Same yet opposite; allies yet adversaries; Dragon and Amyrlin, saidin and saidar, Rand and Egwene.

Egwene was surprised she had visitors, but Seaine wasn’t the only one who had come to her. Several had been Sitters. Curious.

The tipping point approacheth. And so her imprisonment carries with it the note of rising, of moving towards something victorious, whereas Rand’s carried little more than a sense of spiralling impending disaster. A victory in the end, sort of, but.

Egwene may find it surprising that Sitters are visiting her, but she’s also no doubt been more effective in fighting her war than she perhaps thought. Also, rumours have a tendency to spike curiosity when something this dramatic happens; the Amyrlin losing her shit and lashing out at a novice who then stands there calm and bleeding and lectures her, and then is locked away out of sight? It’s as if Elaida wanted to draw everyone’s attention to Egwene. (Or no, it’s like Elaida wanted to do exactly the opposite of that, because Elaida has a talent for accomplishing the opposite of what she wants. A Talent, even).

Seaine at least seems to be on Egwene’s side, and I doubt she’s the only one.

“Proving that accusation is difficult by Tower standards,” Seaine said. “And so I suspect that she will not try to prove it in trial—”

Couldn’t they use the Oath Rod in trials to verify claims like the one Elaida is trying to make – that she expelled Egwene from the Tower before beating her, for being a Darkfriend? Even if Elaida genuinely believed the Darkfriend accusation, she’d struggle to state the rest outright because that’s…not what happened. Also the other Sitters who were there could go under Oath (literally) and testify as to what happened. Seems like a pretty damn effective tool in a trial…

Also, if she’s not going to try to prove in trial something she’s using as a justification for her actions, what the hell is she going to do? Hello yes I would like to speak to the Aes Sedai’s legal adviser…

“partially because doing so would require her to let you speak for yourself, and I suspect that she’ll want to keep you hidden.”

How To Make A Martyr (in 8 Easy Steps) by Elaida do Avriny a’Roihan

“But if she can’t prove I’m a Darkfriend and she couldn’t stop this from going to trial…”

“It is not an offence worthy of deposing her,” Seaine said. “The maximum punishment is a formal censure from the Hall and penance for a month. She would retain the shawl.”

But would lose a great deal of credibility, Egwene thought.

That would require her having credibility to begin with…

But now I’m still stuck on the notion of the Oath Rod being involved in trials. Mostly because it seems like a perfect solution at first glance and then has the potential to be absolutely terrible depending on how those involved chose to use it, how skilled those questioning or testifying are at either bending the truth or forcing a desired narrative using nothing but true confessions put together into exactly the story they want told, thus forcing someone to condemn themselves with their own words…

Anyway.

I like Seaine still; she’s a Tower Aes Sedai, secluded and not particularly revolutionary, but she’s also very…honest, I suppose. She even seems to have a degree of humility, and deals more in facts and evidence than in ambition and denial.

Things are getting worse, the Pattern is still trying its hand at interior design by randomly moving rooms in the Tower and all things considered should probably not quit its day job.

“You have to bring these things up, Seaine,” Egwene said softly. “Keep reminding the sisters that the Dark One stirs and that the Last Battle approaches. Keep their attention on working together, not dividing.”

It’s not just Sheriam who is less than thrilled with the fact that this is happening during her lifetime. You see that sort of thing with evil characters fairly regularly—it’s the Faustian story, or variations thereof; characters who sell their soul or commit themselves to an evil cause because of the perks (power, immortality, a great healthcare package…) and don’t really expect it to be called due in quite the way it is—but I don’t think it applies solely to villains.

People who actually want to or are willing to be heroes, to give their life and maybe their death to a cause, to face the ultimate crisis point of something they’ve committed to, are rare. It’s one thing to commit yourself to something in peacetime, or to commit to something when it’s an abstract or low-level issue. It’s another thing to realise that the tipping point or catastrophe will come in your lifetime, or is happening right now. It’s why we tell stories about heroes; they’re extraordinary. It doesn’t mean ‘ordinary’ people are lazy or not really committed or cowardly; it just means we’re human. How many people, faced with Achilles’s choice (to die a hero and be remembered forever, or to live a long and peaceful life and die forgotten) would choose the ‘heroic’ path? Some, certainly. Most? Probably not.

We’re human; we’re not good at dealing with The Actual End Of The World, and we’re very good at denial when it comes to potential large-scale all-out disaster. A character can swear away their soul and never really expect that the Forces of Evil will actually call upon them to fight in the last battle, and a character can commit themselves to the cause of good or Light and never expect to actually have to stand in that final catastrophe. And I feel like if I take this much further I’m going to end up solidly in current events so I’ll just…stop there. The point is, this sense of ‘oh shit you mean this is actually happening now and I’m a part of it? I didn’t mean to sign up for this take it away’ doesn’t belong solely to villains.

So it’s a nice place to put this particular conversation, right after we see Sheriam thinking in explicit terms that she never really wanted to be a part of this, seems fitting and nicely balancing.

“You must work hard, Seaine,” Egwene said, rising as the Reds approached. “Do what I cannot. Ask the other sto do so as well.” […] “The Last Battle comes, Seaine. Remember.”

Also, Egwene is one of those people absolutely willing to be a hero in the ‘give your life to a cause’ sense. She was not chosen; she chose. And she continues to choose this path, even as it becomes difficult, even as it is painful, even as it seems too much. It’s why she’s such an effective rallying point; she has committed absolutely to the cause they are all sworn to, and she faces the impending apocalypse with determination and dignity and grace, and doesn’t try to turn away or deny it.  It makes her a source of inspiration to those who are more…human about facing this reality and their upcoming role in it. Which I supposes you could argue is part of what heroes are for.

(In case you can’t tell, another thing I’m generally fascinated by is the entire notion and spectrum and variants of Heroes and Villains and the ways in which they exist and interact with their stories and worlds).

Even if Elaida was punished, what would be done with Egwene? Elaida would try to have her executed. And she still hand grounds, as Egwene had—by the White Tower’s definition—impersonated the Amyrlin Seat.

I must stay firm, Egwene told herself in the darkness. I warmed this pot myself, and now I must boil in it, if that is what will protect the Tower. They knew she continued to resist. That was all she could give them.

And she will give them everything she can, willingly. She is not having to pay the dues on a debt she never thought would be called in; she is not being dragged into a fate she has no choice but to accept. That’s not her story. She is the one who faces what is coming with eyes open, even when it turns out to be bigger and more difficult and worse and more painful than she expected. She understands what might be…I hesitate to even say ‘asked of her’ because that’s the point, isn’t it; she looks at the situation and she simply asks this of herself, because that is the only way to win.

It is part of why I’m still relatively certain she will not survive this series. I don’t think Elaida will execute her, but I do think she will give her life for the world. Because she’s one of those who would not choose to die needlessly, but could do so willingly and thus powerfully.

Next (TGS ch 26) Previous (TGS ch 24)

[raes-dirty-laundry]

Stress

I didn’t realize exactly the depth of pure shit I was in until I wrote, be it a very summarized version, of it all down. That version was sent off never to be seen again but this version I’m about to write all down for you here is the extended directors cut. From my brain to this social media platform to you, in all its angsty glory;

1. Constant worry about the wellbeing of my ex girlfriend, that I haven’t seen in three weeks. And when I say constant I mean not a moment goes by where she’s not on my mind. I’m ether formulating the next text I’m going to send her, the next conversation I’m going to have with her (the next time she decides to fucking bless me with her presence), the next accusation, confrontation, confession, concession, profession of everything I’ve been holding in; or I’m bombarded with the mental image of her lying dead on the carpet, all the years and decades passing by where we’re in love and nothing could keep us down as long as we got eachother, successful or poor, fat or thin, living or dying or somewhere in between. that life, that track, that winding road I could have kept her going on if I wasn’t selfish, didn’t take myself away from her for my own good. What’s my own good any good for if she’s gone anyway? And sometimes when I think of her all I feel is relief that it’s over, and guilt that its really, really not. Sometimes all I think is how much I miss her, not that I miss us or what we had together but believe it or not she was good company and an even better friend. Sometimes when I think of her I’m furious and sometimes I’m sad, but mostly I just want closure. A closure I don’t deserve and I’ll probably never get anyway.

2. Me passing this semester, this whole year is solely dependent on a paper I mean to write but never have the time or the motivation or the ability to create. It was due a week from torrow and I’ve promised my professor it’d be on his desk tomorrow morning, but I think we both knew that’s not going to happen. I’m going to fail his class and fail this year and there’ll be no one to blame but my own shitty inability to make good on my word. My word is all I fucking have and I can’t even keep that straight. I’m unwilling to hand in a crap paper and I’m unwilling to do what it takes to completely it and I’m unwilling to show up to his class empty handed, so what the fuck am I supposed to do now? All my options are exhausted, I’m exhausted, and I’ve not even begun to suffer for it.

3. Speaking of classes, I’m on the verge of failing two of them and only with a month left in school there is absolutely no time and little I can do to make it up. Not only will this hinder my ability to pursue further education but it will also without a doubt put strain on my home life as well, when the truth comes out either by admission or that cold hard evidence when the grade report comes in. Let it be known that at least I’ll take the responsibility for my own damn action and conscious choices that led me to fuck everything up. Let it be known that my free will is strong, and as much as it blesses me it is also my greatest burden, but I’m learning to live with it as I am will all things.

4. I’ve been severely deprived of possitive social interactions, friendships and what have you, for god knows how long: since I fell out with my childhood best friend, Jacob, surely. Because of this for the longest time I had aloud shit people into my life because I was desperate, and just up until recently I have come to terms with my inherent isolation and found peace with the one solid and good friendship I have, I found peace with putting my all into being happy with myself and not needing others to define my value. Since that epiphanic moment for some god forsaken reason everyone from here to whoville has been coming out of the woodwork to be my ‘friend’. By friend I mean they want to use me as an emotional dumpster, and somehow I’m the one left feeling guilt deep in my soul for just not giving a rats ass about thier shorty problems and thier shitty lives that I can’t do anything about and if I tried they’d be pissed and if I have advice they wouldn’t take it and if I just listened they’d tell me they don’t feel valued and I act like I don’t care and they’d spit in my face. So forgive me if this irony is fucking shocking when I say, the moment I stop lusting for friendship and start actually examining the quality of those I let influence me, a cascade of shit people become vying for my attention, right when I gain the ability so see through said shit too. Where were these people when I was desperate and would have bent over backwards for their every whim? Where were they when I was honest to god lonely and just needed one friend, one person to talk to no matter how shitty or using or manipulative? Now that I’m free of my blissful ignorance, free from letting scum walk all over me just because they give me the time of day, now they all see my value? It’s not fair and entirely too patronizing, even for god this is gone too far.

5. I’m almost certain that the only constant, stable good thing I’ve got left in my life is getting closer and closer to his end and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever has to deal with in my entire goddamn life. After he’s gone I’m afraid of what will become of me. I’m sure that everything good about my soul that was ever worth anything of value will leave with him. I’m almost relieved that the squishy, vulnerable, loving bits left still inside me will be burried with his soft little body in the dirt where it will all go back to creation, hopefully where it can be used and remade and turned into the thread that twines around true loves hearts. Meanwhile I’ll be left here to live on my life, cold and careless and unseeing, where I will finally be able to throw myself into the Work. all that I see now, all the suffering thag hurts to ignore, all the love and the heartache and everything that makes me who I am will be deep in the dirt where it belongs and I’ll be blessedly empty and there’ll nothing left to hurt any longer. Or at least that’s what I hope.

6. The responsibilities I’ve been turning a blind eye too for far too long are finally nipping at my heels and I can barely contain them inside my any longer. I’ve got a responsibility to myself to take care of myself far better than I have been. I owe it too the one friend I truly have to try and take better care of her and our friendship. I have a responsibility to make sure my boy he’s happy and safe and well cared for, but I can’t bring myself to take him in and find out how long we’ve really got, it would break what little of me that’s stable that I have left and I just can’t to that to him, I’ve got to be strong enough to be there when the time comes but it’s selfish to keep myself in this dark, it’s wrong of me to do this too him but I just don’t know what to do. What I can do, if there’s anything, and I’m too scared to go find out. I’ve got a responsibility to myself to actually be responsible with my life for once, do what I must do to progress on my path but I just can’t find it in myself to break out of the routine and do something with myself. Ive got the will, but I just can’t seem to find my way.

7. The nightmares, if they can even be called that, have been plaguing me for a week or so and it’s probably the worst possible development nueralogically that could have happened to me as of late. My dreams, for years, have been the only peace I find in my horrible useless life. The only place in my mind that I don’t have conscience control of, hence it is salvation for a person like me. A whimsical everchanging world that has always brought me joy has now been ruined. Every night it begins like how it used to be, funky little nonsensical dreams where I’m free to just enjoy for a moment a life where I am simply lead, no choices to make and no prices to pay. Hours of harmless everlasting fun safe tucked away in my mind where no one can rain or take away. I’ve always had a vivid imagination, so it’s always been sometime bright and new and exciting. But now? It’s dull. Not scary, not terrifying, not traumatic or chaotic, just my life through a lens. It’s like stepping into a version of my own life where I make irriversable mistakes, where every bad trait is put under the microscope and examined in depth, or it’s replaying every mistake I’ve ever made before, over and over until I can’t tell what’s real life and what’s inside, or worst of all, I’ll wake up and not remember a damn thing; a completely dreamless night. I never knew one of the last good things in my life that were truely mine could so easily slip through my grasp, and now my peace is gone and I’m scared every night that the next time I fall asleep will be even later than the last until I’m so fed up with my dreams not being the salvation that it used to be, that sleep while once was the hope on the horizon getting me through the day will now be so useless and horrible that I’ll give up on sleeping all together and just be an empty sleepless lifeless zombie. I’m scared that I’ll never get my dreams back. I’m scared that one day I might even learn to be content with the dull dreams that leave me racked with despair every time I open my eyes and just have my own sad twisted life thrown back at me.

That pretty much sums it all up. Those are the factors in which are making it extremely difficult to life my life at the moment. These are the reasons I’ve moved beyond stress and anxiety to a simmering ball of hazy rage doused dread. I know one day it’ll all be irrelevant or I’ll just be used to it, but I almost prefer feeling too much all the time, as apposed to not being able to feel anything at all, but I’m sure my stance on that there will change with time and I become more and more numb to the world around me, duller and duller until I am blind to the machinations of my own demise.

[tempestshakes01]

3/24/19

Here’s another entry in this embarrassing public online diary (I love it.):

Health: 4/10 

The weird cough is still lingering, but now it’s gotten a bit worse in the daytime. I’m still hacking up mucus until I vomit (or moan and cry to NOT vomit because I just ate and I’d rather NOT throw up a bacon burger, thanks) and it’s fuckin miserable. I’m worried that if this lasts, I’ll have to fly like this and my flight is an overnighter--prime cough/nausea/vomit hours. UGH. 

Other than the cough and my persistent jaw acne, I’m the perfect picture of health. I feel great. 

Well, no. My ass has a massive bruise because yesterday I slipped down Leah’s stairs (wood laminate is slippery as hell in socks!) running to the bathroom to...ugh...puke up a glob of mucus and bits of burger. 

But other than that! 

Work: 7/10

I still feel like I did something wrong and no one is telling me. I’m friendlier and peppier now that the winter blues (read: depression) are slipping away with the sunny skies and warmer weather (all that snow--16 inches on the ground at the start of the month--melting), but I think the damage is done. 

Except, other than not being super chatty, I’m not sure what the damage is. The only admin that’s normal is the principal. We’re getting along great! A few colleagues are still the same including Mr. Married Lumberjack whom I had a crush on.  

I’m probably paranoid though. I’m also bored out of my mind. Things are smooth for 85% of the time and that’s...great, but also...it’s too smooth and I feel judged doing more because Veronica is gone. 

Okay, so that most likely makes no sense, but it’s how I feel. 

Home: 9.5/10

Things are superb with my parents. I’m headed to D.C. with my mom next week (along with every 8th grader in America...I’m so stupid...) and we’re going to try to keep it as civil as possible when it comes to politics. My dad is texting, but not smothering me with attention. In fact, I should call him more.

My sister seems to be doing...the same. Lots of astrology posts on the gram, but no mention of Paris (her potentially mentally-ill ex) so that’s a relief. The kids are doing great as well. Nick and I are texting more often. He even asked my advice about our parents which was new. I want to ask him about Alyssa because I’m still utterly curious about that situation, but I know he’s still hurting over it and the fact that he had a “quarter-life” crisis when he was working 50+ hours, going to school full time, and interning at the church. He’s decided to graduate as quickly as possible, quit the preacher path, and stay in the coffee game. 

Apparently, he got a promotion and a raise, so he’s making really great money. Plus, he’s like...super passionate about coffee. More passionate than he ever seemed about Jesus or school. 

We’re currently fighting about NCAA brackets and our current favorite music, and it’s great. 

Friends: 6/10

Reconnecting with Jack and Nicol is super nice. I just don’t know how to proceed and how quickly and if I’m an annoyance. I also want Nicol without Jack as well, but I don’t want to offend either of them (not that I think it would! but the chance makes me hesitate...) and they’re such a partnership that I wonder if it IS a big request to separate them. 

We went to see Us today and I didn’t like it very much. We’re going to see Back to the Future on Tuesday at the old theater. They invited me to the former; I invited them to the latter. I trust this will all work out.

Gosh, and I don’t trust Leah at ALL which is wild because I probably hang out with her the most out of anyone, but yeah. There’s something about that girl that I don’t trust. 

Went on Facebook and saw a photo of my childhood best friends (we were a trio: Valerie, Kristina, and I). They were on a backpacking trip together in Alaska. They live entirely different lives, but they still maintained a great friendship over the years. God, and they went into chemical engineering so they’re both making BANK, but they’re the most down-to-earth women. 

I don’t know...I guess it makes me think...for the billionth time...how different my life would be if we’d never moved from El Paso. 

El Paso was idyllic. My childhood consisted of bike rides out into the desert, street games with a plethora of neighborhood boys, summer secrets and stars, theme parks and athletics, best friends who were boys that I knew I could fall in love with, best friends who were girls and I knew I could trust with my whole heart. I lived a good life there. 

When I left, things started to peel apart, but it sort of seemed--for the most part--most of the El Paso crew grew up in the same way they had been...in that easy, perfect sunset sort of way. Most everyone I grew up with went Homecoming and Prom and did senior sunrise and went to good schools where they did the greek life and then got jobs in the sciences or medicine or moved out to Hollywood. They’re utterly normal and successful now in a very...the way they tell you things will go in life. 

Anyway, that childhood best friend I thought I could fall in love with? Went through a long-haired rave phase circa 2012/13, but is currently dating a white girl who wears cowboy boots, no makeup, and studies sports medicine in the same grad program as him. It’s the way things were supposed to be and it’s just weird to see their lives (through the filter and lens of social media) go so simply. Also, his hairline is going and he looks bloated, so the white-half is coming for him in the aging process, ha. His Mexican mom still looks BOMB, so poor guy for inheriting his dad’s hair follicles. 

And anyway, that childhood best friend I could trust with my whole heart? Dating a republican future politician named John Smith and traveling South American for the next couple weeks working in various hospital and women’s health care. She’s a nurse and probably a damn good one. She got her boobs done a couple years ago and I sometimes wonder if we’d still get along. 

Media: 5/10

This is a bullshit category just to give a VM hot-takes, but I’ll play into my own bullshit. 

I’m not watching any TV except B99. I watch about 3 movies a week and I try to make 1 a classic or a “difficult” title. I watch mostly youtube, to be honest. I like Hot Ones, Bon Appetit, Jenna Marbles, theTryGuys, Tasty, Brave Wilderness, Millenium Dance Complex ‘n’ adjacent choreographers’ channels, and various media video essays. 

I’m reading a lot of books...but they’re all YA. Which isn’t bad! I’m just laughing that it took me reading Airborn by Kenneth Oppel (my favorite adventure YA book) out loud to the students to remind my dumb reading brain how fun books could be. Apparently, I’m a fantastic reader and I do wonderful voice and I make the story seem like a movie. We’re on the sequel and I’m about to start the His Dark Materials series.  

That Worlds podium? TRASH. Justice for S/B. 

Yeah, so I’m on a VM cleanse, right? Cause with the winter and all the crazy, it was just an unhealthy piece of media in my life. I miss the GC though, but that’s about it, lol. Oh, and with the new content (I tried to resist!) it’s clear that I did miss them doing their thing and I need to unload some of the thoughts whirling in my head. 

Ugh, I have thoughts about the whole timeline of events because I see people questioning or backtracking, and I’m like? We seriously went through an awful series of events that made all the previous weirdness make sense (but left lingering brand-new weirdness). Except that’ll just bring back old feelings that I’m trying to move on from. 

Geez, I can’t believe I’m about to talk about them in a gossip-y way again, but uh, I’m glad that they seem to be repairing their friendship and that Scott legit looked happy. The vibes are definitely friendship so far, or like, 2015-vibes. Which who knows where that will lead in the future? Will they do things messy like last Fall/Winter? Do they think they can try again or are they now afraid of fucking this up so badly they can’t come back from it? Are they going to accept each other as only friends and maintain those boundaries? You love me, real or not real? WHO KNOWS. I hate this ride.

Also, I’m aware of some of the gossip because I’m fool who caves from time to time for a few minutes and I remember (god, again, I hate that I’m still invested even with this time off) that J was selling her Coachella tickets, and now it’s been announced that VM are doing that show in Korea which takes place the same days as a Coachella weekend. So. Yeah. I’m putting my money on J being in Korea because why sell the tickets (just take a friend), but I’m also still wondering if this is all going to end up like Klawes-era. 

Literally, I wake up believing 100% that J’s gonna be the one Scott’s going to marry because it’s just that time. Then, I go to sleep 98% believing that no matter what, somehow, someway, Tessa and Scott are going to end up together. 

inTERSTIngLY, I have neglected to message Tinder matches the past couple weeks and I believe 50% of the time that I’m going to end up alone because I’m not even trying. (Cut me some slack though. I haven’t had an acne flare-up this bad in years and it’s wrecking my confidence.) 

Music: 10/10

I take hour drives out of town and find obscure trails and I hike for an hour...and let me tell you my Spotify is killing it. 

Current favorite songs:

How Do You Know - CALIPH (you know what I’m thinking) 

Stone Street - MS. WHITE (fun)

anything from Oliver Tree (his music speaks to me as does his fucking stupid meme humor)

Wow. - POST MALONE (sue me)

anything from Duckrth (so much fun) 

Charms - ABEL KORZENIOWSKI (don’t imagine VM dancing to this)

The Cheek of Night - ABEL KORZENIOWSKI

Sucks - ANGELO MOTA (dark and atmospheric hip hop that makes me wish I could dance cause it’s calling to me to choreograph something to it)

bury a friend - BILLIE EILISH (lol I can’t dance, but I’m learning Kodish choreo for this as a workout) 

Beverly Blues - OPIA (a summer jam)