I keep thinking about just how Dean can't deal with failure. At all.
And it's not just failure, it's not being good enough in general.
It has been installed into Dean from when he was a child that failure was not acceptable. In their line of work, with their stakes, it was simply no option to make mistakes. If Dean didn't protect Sammy well enough, Sam might actually get hurt. If Dean did something wrong during a hunt, someone might die. If he disobeyed or got out of line, he might have to face disappointing his father.
Dean never got told that it was okay to make mistakes. He wasn't allowed to fail, because there were always severe consequences for it.
I feel like that'd eventually manifest in him obsessing over being perfect. Finding quickest and most effective way to kill any monster (because what if it got away? What if it hurt someone while Dean was fumbling?) Saving on ammunition by becoming the best possible shot (because what if they run out? What if they actually need the bullets but don't have enough because Dean wasted them?)
Dean obsesses over how everything could go wrong and as a result, tries his hardest to become the best hunter, the best protector. And if he fails, it's his fault. There is no "There's nothing that could have been done". Because Dean could have simply been better.
many thoughts about shams being able to sympathize with her mother but still being angry at her father (and having this one part of her that isn't able to forgive him) despite the fact that she is much closer to her father
one important thing about work emails is that whoever you send them to can forward them to anyone else, or reply to you and copy other people. so if you're going to talk about a third party in your email, only say things you would be okay with the third party reading. because people can and will just suddenly CC brand new people on a long email chain, who will then be able to backread anything you've ever said in any of your previous responses that you were sending to only one person. word to the wise.
Okay I made this to represent a specific event but then I thought about it and realized that more generally soeaking this actually sums the exact dynamic I have with my fourth grade girls.
i have acquired a mystical and powerful ointment (hydrocortisone cream) from the village herbalist (rite aid) to assist with the curse set upon my bloodline from many generations ago (eczema)
Using this as an audio reference for the posts I'm making, but to summarize:
Yuri starts out mad.
Yuri tries to calm himself down with a deep breath to ask for details instead of going through it angry.
Flynn doesn't say "like a good knight" in the sense of putting himself down. He simply says "as a knight" (the tl here doesn't use that, but with that included it's basically along the lines of "even though I had doubts, as a knight, I was determined to follow my orders").
Once Yuri has answers he calms down significantly.
Yuri uses " 'ttaku", which is a shortened down version of "mattaku" (Yuri often shortens words and speaks very casually), which in this particular situation basically would mean "geez", or "good grief". In this manner, it's expressive of exasperation/frustration/etc.
Yuri never mentions that "Flynn told him what to do" like the dub does (because in fact Flynn did not ever tell Yuri what to do. He only gave Sodia and his other knights orders. He expressed his own desire to take responsibility, but never told Yuri and his friends what to do).
At this point you can tell the anger has gone out of him and that he's calmed down, now that Flynn is approaching this with admission and responsibility.
Sodia is asking that Flynn returns as soon as possible (I believe this was a general translation error).
Flynn's thank you to Yuri is tonally much more heartfelt.
Yuri's response and gratefulness at Flynn coming back to himself is tonally much more heartfelt, relieved and sincere.
people defending their precious white man of the week and ignoring BIPOC pointing out his racism Yet Again. i'm so tired. i'm so tired. i'm so tired!!!!!!
I remember when we had to submit a huge coursework, my supervisor uploaded an earlier draft of mine to another inbox first, so when I submitted the final one, the plagiarism check score was super high. A few days later, C told me jokingly that I gave him a heart attack when he saw my similarity score. He said he sat with our head of year and personally looked through the entire similarity report until they were sure the other draft was actually mine too.
I didn't know he checked things like this, and I certainly didn't expect him to read through my whole essay. It was long before we ever became 'close', but I found it kind of sweet and always remembered.
mostly i try to stay chipper but like. sometimes it's just acutely apparent that yr the end product of literally generations of disrespect and interpersonal powerlessness and it just. it gets to you a little
Lawless Lucky talked a big game around the bonfire last night. She wasn't too oblivious to pick up on the fact that her being scandalized and upset by the boys' violent sides was beginning to grate on them. So, when all of the boys were talking about the gruesome things they'd like to do to the people who made their lives hard in The Other Place, she forced herself to laugh along, and even took the opening to spin a tale about how she was planning to poison her old employer's food. And, oh, those rotten pirates? Well, she would do the same to them if she had a chance.
So busy seizing on the moment, she didn't consider that she would actually have to put her money where her mouth was.
It would shatter the illusion of Neverland as her luxurious, peaceful, happily-ever-after paradise if she had to see any real carnage with her own two eyes, much less deal any of it herself. But here was dear Peter, ever the altruist, granter of all her wishes, suggesting she come along to their next raid of the Jolly Roger. Lucky's pretty sure he knows this is out of her comfort zone, if he's paid any attention to her — and he does, of course he does. Why else would he go through the trouble of bringing all of these troubled souls to the island if he didn't empathize and care about all of them, right? She can't imagine any motive but love and sympathy. — It's funny, considering how anxiously, meticulously sensitive she tries to be to his boundaries. There was something maybe endearingly boyish about his disregard for hers.
She reasons that she should be grateful for his investment in keeping things fresh and interesting. This is what a sensible, healthy relationship looked like, right? Balancing energies was a major tenet of Celtic magic— it was the key to harmony and prosperity. A passive, supportive person worked best with a person who was a little more... challenging. It would be too stagnant or too chaotic any other way. She gives a fond half-smile to her love, her true love, convinced he's only looking out for her best interests. She would find a way to explain to him that this doesn't really interest her... another time.
❝ Well, I suppose I would... ❞
Lucky? Morally opposed to it? No sir, you've got the wrong lassie. You must be thinking of that prude from Chicago, Fiona Comisky, who used to dote and cry and sermonize Nate Larsen any time he got injured in a fight with some low-class brute he should've run away from. She had no qualms with clodhopping bullies who started barbaric fights. Didn't find it tasteless in the slightest.
She was opposed to tagging along for much more modest, supportive, team-playering reasons, to be certain. The same reasons why she declined Nate's offer to teach her how to use a bow and arrow: why would the Princess of Neverland get her dainty, dignified, not-at-all-labor-calloused hands dirty learning how to hunt when her boys got such a thrill out of slaying those innocent animals?
❝ But why bring a girl along to steal all of the attention?
I'm not as strong or as sneaky as you. I may ruin the...
Element of surprise. Or... distract everyone when they
have to keep me out of harm's way. And there’s really—
there's so much I could do back here. I thought I should
make some sort of victory banquet for the boys to come
back to. ......Besides... ❞
Lucky's fingers sidled over to his, tips brushing over his knuckles, as if timidly asking permission to show tenderness before making any sudden moves. Peter was a bit strange about physical touch. She could never tell if he was enjoying it, or if she maybe wasn't doing it right. When he didn't immediately swat her away, she gingerly placed her palms in his, intuitively careful not to scare him away like a baby deer too shy for human touch, or startle him like a scorpion ready to plunge a stinger into her at any moment. She has experience with his type. She has nothing if not patience and willpower to break through to them. She has hope that one day she'll be able to fully embrace him. If she's really as lucky as everybody says, maybe she'd be able to fully-fully "embrace" him.
❝ I love when you tell me all about your thrilling adventures.
You get such this 𝓅𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓁𝑒 in your eye...
It's the same one you had when you first found me— the
one that I saw and thought, 'Oh, there it is: my 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.
At last, I can see it!' ❞
She boldly ventures to show a little more affection while she pleads, but not enough to push him too far, just enough to remind him that he can touch her back any time he's ready. (If he's rallying her to come out of her comfort zone, maybe this is a good time to encourage him to be a little more adventurous, too.) Her fingers, ever-so-lightly cupped over his hands, gently lace themselves into the spaces between his. She's not naïve enough to believe she's going to get out of raids forever. She just wants to experience feeling truly loved and close to him, just one time, before she has to see him at his absolute nastiest.
❝ Oh, Peter, won't you please let me see
my 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 again when you fill me in later? ❞
( Won't you please let her be so lucky as to skip out on this? )