currently up and thinking about how buggy lore gets more and more painful the longer you think about it. like. i could talk about this stupid clown for AGES. he makes his clown-ness his entire personality but it's so painfully clear he doesn't have a single ounce of joy or whimsy left in his little chop-chop body. he's a full-blown hater!! he gave up on his dreams because he wanted his best friend, who he wholeheartedly believed shone brighter than he ever could, to reach it for the both of them!! he probably hasn't known genuine happiness since he broke up with shanks in the rain!! his beef with luffy escalated tenfold the moment he saw the hat!! he stayed in the east blue for years when he had a whole map and probably knew the way back into the grand line!! he loves flashiness and attention but hasn't ever uttered a word about growing up with the roger pirates or being the childhood friend of one of the four emperors!!! this clown has spent his whole life yearning for something that will never return!!!! he has a big red clown nose!!! every bad thing that has ever happened to him was because he wanted so badly to be loved!!!
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saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.
I've been wondering when they were going to look into Jace bc he helped the Abernants sneak into the school during prompocalypse to get the crown and that just never came up again lol
Thinking about the symbolic weight of smoking in the TLT universe that comes to the fore in The Unwanted Guest -- the way it moves through from person to person: Pyrrha smoked, and Augustine wanted to impress her in all her stone cold fox MILF James Bond glory (and tbf who wouldn't) so he started too. and even though as far as he knows she's been gone for a myriad and is never coming back, he keeps the habit. Ianthe sees something in the hollowed-out Faberge eggshell of Augustine that resonates with her, all that gilded eloquent emptiness and disdain through the ages, so she picked it up from him to try to emulate it. She picked it up so hard that Palamedes -- the exact spiritual antithesis of the 'smoking! on a space station! what a powermove' ennui Ianthe so admired -- spontaneously unnerded enough to even known how to, simply from a sort of contact contamination of the soul.
G1deon and Augustine sharing a jittery smoke after their near-Harrow experience during soup night, and it's the closest thing to any real sense of brotherhood that remains between them. Pyrrha going ten thousand years dying both literally and for a smoke (and then Camilla sold her fucking cigarettes (for a third of what they were worth, probably Pyrrha's own good, and also more importantly grocery money). what an entirely haunted time to be alive etc.). Augustine and Mercy trading a cigarette back and forth in the middle of their collusion over the love and murder of god.
An act of small and measured self-destruction in the name of something a little bit like connection when you're stuck somewhere in yourself where love itself dares not or cannot tread (ritualized, transmissible)..........
It's only just now clicked for me that all the despicable horrors Sukuna drags Yuuji through time and again, all the feats of grand, unseen violence he puts up just for Yuuji, all the heinous atrocities and pain he inflicts on Yuuji -- they actually carry an inkling of something strategical, coldly calculated. Don't get me wrong, doing all that Sukuna clearly enjoys himself, his rampage in Shibuya sizzling with euphoria of finally getting to move freely, unshackled, and in the end that is the very nature of a curse -- cause suffering for the sake of suffering and feast upon it. But Sukuna, perhaps rather oddly, doesn't strike me as someone who would hold petty grudges and act upon them spitefully. Especially in regard to someone like Yuuji, who Sukuna considers little different from the filth beneath his feet and doesn't hesitate to make it known. So why even bother hating something so insignificant, miniscule? Why spare an effort to make this particular life miserable when suffering is already inherent to human condition? And while I'm at it, here's one more question, perhaps more on point with what I'm trying to say: why retreat of your own free will to the state of entrapment and give up the reins of control so soon after they fell into your hands?
Back to the point I started this rambling with, it seems to me that in the chaos Sukuna causes there is calculation. I think he's trying to do to Yuuji what he did in the end to Megumi -- crash this boy's beating heart and drown his soul. Sukuna's actions appear pointed, aware of the effect they make, targeted directly at that very thing which would hurt Yuuji the most, thus pushing him to the breaking point. Countless casualties, pointless bloodshed and utter devastation -- all to crack Yuuji's resistance, to eliminate the ability to fight back in a boy who was careless enough to wear his heart out on his sleeve in a world that grinds the kind down and spits out their bones.
But the darker the weather, the better the man. Where every other human being would break, Yuuji stands unyielding. The more is taken away from him, the more reasons he has to keep fighting. When the only sacrifice he could ever accept was his own, he lost too much. So he ploughs on -- because that's the only way he can pay the unfathomably high cost of him being alive. And for all his experience and cunning wit, Sukuna's miscalculated with this one: he cannot destroy Yuuji's heart for it was never Yuuji's to keep. He gave it away a long time ago. It beats with other people's pulse.
as yr favorite local jason todd fan sometimes i get so fed up with the apparent inability of most dc comic writers to write a class conscious narrative about him.
and yes, i know that comics are a very ephemeral and constantly evolving and self-conflicting medium.
and yes, i know they’re a profit-driven art medium created in a capitalistic society, so there are very few times where comics are going to be created solely out of the desire to authentically and carefully and deliberately represent a character and take them from one emotional narrative place to another, because dc cares about profit and sometimes playing it safe is what sells.
and yes, i know comics and other forms of art reflect and recreate the society within which they were conceived as ideas, and so the dominant societal ideas about gender and race and class and so on are going to be recreated within comics (and/or will be responded to, if the writer is particularly societally conscious).
but jesus christ. you (the writer/writers) have a working class character who has been homeless, who has lost multiple parents, who has been in close proximity to someone struggling with addiction, who has had to steal to survive, who may have (depending on your reading of several different moments across different comics created by different people) been a victim of csa, who has clearly (subtextually) struggled with his mental health, who was a victim of a violent murder, and who has an entirely distinct and unique perspective on justice that has evolved based on his lived experiences.
and instead of delving into any of that, or examining the myriad of ways that classism in the writers’ room and the editors’ room and the readers’ heads affected jason’s character to make sure you’re writing him responsibly, or giving him a plotline where his views on what justice looks like are challenged by another working class character, or allowing him to demonstrate actual autonomy and agency in deciding what relationships he wants to have with people who he loves but sees as having failed him in different ways, or thinking carefully about what his having chosen an alias that once belonged to his murderer says about his decision-making and motivations, you keep him stuck in a loop of going by the red hood, addressing crime by occupying a position of relative power that perpetuates crime & harm rather than ever getting at the root causes, and seesawing between a) agreeing with his adoptive family entirely about fighting nonlethally in ways that are often inconsistent with his apparent motivations or b) disagreeing and experiencing unnecessarily brutal and violent reactions from his adoptive father as if that kind of violence isn’t the kind of thing he experienced as a child and something bruce himself is trying to prevent jason from perpetuating. because a comic with red hood, quips, high stakes, and familial drama sells.
it doesn’t matter if it keeps jason trapped, torn between an unanswered moral and philosophical question, a collection of identities that no longer fit him, and a family that accepts him circumstantially. it doesn’t matter if jason’s characterization is so utterly inconsistent that the only way to mesh it together is to piece different aspects of different titles and plotlines together like a jigsaw. it doesn’t matter if you do a disservice to his character, because in the end you don’t want to transform him or even understand him deeply enough to identify what makes him compelling and focus on that.
and i love jason!!!!! i love him. and i think about the stories we could have, if quality and art and doing justice to the character were prioritized as much as selling a title and having a dark and brooding batfam member besides bruce just to be the black sheep character are prioritized. and i just get a little sad.
when your children are still babies, they get so so upset when gojo comes home and doesn’t immediately pick them up. your baby has recently learned that the sound of the front door opening and closing usually signals the return of their father so tonight, when the door opens, your baby’s head perks up. when he finally takes his shoes off and makes his way into the home, he spots his little angel on the couch. “hi baby!” he coos at them with a smile on his face and his hands full with some packages. “let me go put these down and i’ll be right back!” he tries to explain, to which your baby just obliviously smiles at, just happy to see their father and know that he’s giving them attention. but when they realize that he’s leaving their sight and didn’t immediately pick them up… oh have mercy. it becomes a shit storm because who does he think he is?? to not give his baby all his time and attention! gojo comes running back into the living room confused as to why they’re crying but as soon as he picks them up, they stop crying and start giggling. what a dramatic little baby you’ve been blessed with. the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree ig
— doc dad levi anon
SHUT UPPPPP because you know Satoru loves the attention too, they’re a perfect match together bye. All you can do is stand, bemused, as Satoru picks up the baby and almost instantly quells his crying, rocking him back and forth before stretching his arms to hold the kid at eye level with him and cooing, “Oh, I’m sorry my love, I missed you too, soooooo much,” Satoru bends his arms to brush their noses together and grin at the giggles the baby emits, “You missed me too, yeah? Aren’t you the sweetest little thing, missing me like that? So precious.” Satoru covers the baby in kisses and sweet words for nearly five straight minutes and they both love to bask in each other’s attention (you have the videos to prove it).
Something kinda funny tho is… you’re 98% sure your son can tell that Satoru will give into quickest lmfaoo. Your baby cries sometimes when you have to leave him, sure, and can definitely throw a fit when he wants your attention—but he seems to know to cry (or squeal, or babble, or screech) on demand for his sucker of a father. Nanami, Shoko, Megumi, and Yuuta (your on rotation band of baby sitters) have noticed that the kid loves to be held and has no shame gesturing for it—but they’ve never experienced the baby crying when they so much as step away for a moment, unless he’s hungry or needs to be changed. You don’t have the heart to tell Satoru he’s being played tho, so you just let them have their moment <333 (not that it would matter, Satoru can’t stand to see your kid cry in any capacity, so he’d go right back to giving in; plus it’s a win-win in his book anyway: baby stops crying, and he gets cuddles from his son).
(Then again, you think the need and love for attention might just be genetic, because Satoru has cried big tears a handful of times just leaving you and your baby at home for a few hours).
Do you ever just lay awake at night, turning over in your head the stark difference in delivery between Hewson's Van saying--steadily, unshakably--"it's just something that's happening to you...happening to us" and Cypress' Taissa saying--imploringly, whiningly--"this was not just my dream, this was our dream"?
Do you ever just turn it over and over, how often Tai tried to scare Van away, and how it only made Van set her feet more firmly? How Taissa's first love was this person who saw a problem fall into Taissa's lap, a problem that was quite literally trapped inside Taissa's body, and decided unflinchingly: No, that's an us problem now? How she refused point-blank to walk away even with blood in her mouth, how she flatly informed Tai "I'm never gonna be scared of you", and promptly turned a moment of pain into a declaration of love? And how this would etch itself into Taissa for the rest of her life? How she'd take these things that worked with Van--with the person Van was, with the bond they shared--and try so hard to run through an identical script with Simone?
Except Simone is her own person. A completely different kind of person. A person who hasn't been offered any of the context, any of the realities going on inside Taissa. So: naturally she doesn't respond the way Van did at eighteen--and will go on to do all over again in her forties. Naturally, she hears our dream as the excuse it is, not as a plea for connection. Naturally, she is scared away when Taissa pushes, and shouts, and begs. Because there isn't blood in her mouth, not yet, but there will be. And they have a son to worry about. And she isn't eighteen and a special kind of immortal, a special kind of romanticized. She's a grown woman with responsibilities, with priorities, with an understanding that you can't fix someone just because you love them. And Tai can't just perform a revival of the play she and Van had memorized twenty-five years later with a whole new performer in the works, and expect it to shake out the same.
Of course it doesn't work. But look at Taissa trying it. Look at Taissa trying to reframe her first love through a new lens. Trying to recast it. Trying to play it through again. Van taught her love was sticking out the blood, shaking off the pain, making a you problem into an us problem. Does it ever just eat at you, how tragic it is, watching Taissa try to shape her marriage around a woman who isn't even wearing a ring?