I was just about to type something about how occasionally I manage to find a "cool zone" of ego where nothing can make me feel really bad about myself, but I also have a realistic sense of my own importance/relevance/competence and an ability to laugh at my mistakes. I was going to frame this as a happy medium.
Then I realized that actually, being insecure and prone to feeling bad about myself also tends to make me a lot more prone to bouts of arrogance or grandiosity or not being able to laugh at (or own up to) my mistakes because they feel like a super big deal, humiliating and potentially life or relationship or "career" ruining. Just as outsize feelings of "I'm the worst person in the world" and "everything's always my fault" are self-obsession and grandiosity in disguise, I think a lot of problems we often attribute to people thinking too highly of themselves or being too confident/secure in their abilities and ideas are actually, or at least can be, insecurity and self-hatred in disguise.
I dunno, man. Liking yourself and valuing yourself and seeing yourself as a lovable person is good. I don't think there's actually much, if any, danger that you'll accidentally like yourself too much and thereby cause problems. I think the more you like yourself, the easier it is to be considerate towards other people and act in accordance with what you value and not freak out every time you make a mistake or discover you were wrong about something or get told to change some of your behavior.
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got inspired by a fic i read the other day, but didn't quite hit the right spots for me so. time to write out a new wip idea
The concept of that fic really grabbed me - Jason and Tim having a bodyswap the same day Jason wakes up in his coffin, at a point after Tim had already visited Bruce and Alfred with his insistence that Batman needed a Robin - but for what I was thinking, by the time Jason convinces Bruce and Alfred of who he is, Tim's already started to dig himself out of the coffin. And when the three of them show up at the cemetery, the grave's empty.
Tim would be catatonic and go through much of the same stuff canon Jason went through before being found and dunked in the Pit. He'd end up enduring the whole League of Assassins shtick that canon Jason went through while at the same time Jason is dealing with Tim's regular person life. Both of them struggled a bit trying to imitate the other, but they managed- Tim with not much issue considering no one in the LoA was close to Jason, and Jason trying to manage Janet Drake's clearly growing concern every time he slips up.
Like, imagine Tim, desperately trying to imitate what he knows of Jason from watching Robin on the streets and seeing Jay in a few galas here and there. And one day, Talia tries to tell him he'd been quickly replaced to get him to finally listen and Kill Somebody/accept he was staying with the League until they deemed him fit to leave.
And Tim looks at a picture of himself, hanging around the front yard of Wayne Manor with Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. Another picture showing himself in an ill-fitting Robin uniform on a rooftop and seemingly getting lectured by Batman, who looms in front of him.
And he says "I'm not buyin' it."
Somehow convinces Talia that he's not convinced that the Tim in the photo (who is probably Jason and thank god, Tim was really worried about what happened to Jason's mind- or rather, his own body; he didn't actually consider Jason coming back to life until now) and she arranges a short trip for him to Gotham to see for himself.
Tim really struggles the next two days to keep up the Jason act, but he's pretty sure Talia and the others were just chalking it up to nerves at seeing his family again and the "newest addition".
When he finally gets to Gotham, he doesn't bother being stealthy. He doesn't have the skills- no matter how much Ra's and Talia's goons have been trying to beat it into him- and even if he did, he doubted he'd be able to sneak away from his own teachers that were stalking him from the shadows.
So he does his best to be casual. Walks straight towards Wayne Manor, and when he can actually start to hear his assassin stalkers the tiniest bit as he approaches the gate- a sign they're getting really restless- he decides now or never and bolts the rest of the way.
He thinks, if he had come sooner to Gotham, he would've tried fitting through the gaps in the bars- as if he was still 13 and small enough to fit- but as it is, Tim's spent 6 months in this body and he's not going to make that mistake.
Instead he slams a hand on the buzzer and says as fast as he can, "it's Tim! Tim Drake! There's assassins, open the gate!"
He has a heartstopping moment when nothing happens- when there's no answer and the ninjas are getting closer and closer and-
And then it opens and Tim doesn't stop with his relief, he runs.
The door is opened not by Mr. Pennyworth, but by Bruce himself, a belt clipped around his waist, but entirely in sleepwear. He has something in his other hand and as he yells, "duck!" Tim can only think it's some kind of bomb and dives for the ground.
He was sort of right. It was a smoke bomb. He heard and smelled it hissing away behind him, and saw the cloud of smoke in his peripheral vision.
Bruce wasted no time running past him and barking, "Follow Alfred to the cave!" Tim took a moment to just breathe, feeling much more safe with Batman fighting to protect him. When Bruce looked back at him through a spot in the smoke, he yelled, "Go!"
Tim scrambled to obey, trying to run and stand and awkwardly doing both to get in the home. Mr. Pennyworth was just inside the foyer, out of sight of the windows, now that Tim noticed, and holding a shotgun.
He was also wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and fuzzy pink bunny slippers.
Tim blinked. "Uhhh,"
"Come along, Master Tim. We must be quick."
He didn't protest and followed him down to the Cave, where Jason in Tim's body sat waiting at the Batcomputer.
Man, I'm not completely sure on the timing, but imagine Tim finally getting back into his body and it's- he's taller than he used to be, bulkier too. And there are reflexes and muscle memory stuff he doesn't remember at all, but now just has.
He- he was Robin. Or, his body at least, and he felt like it. But he never was Robin. Not really. He never got a proper outing, never even received Bruce's official approval for it.
It was strange. And not totally a good strange.
He thought about the body he had. He didn't have a lot of love for it- puberty would do that to anyone- but it was his. And that saying about not knowing what you have until you lose it? Yeah.
Tim felt like crying.
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my last post and the shameless mountain goats reference i threw in there got me thinking about one of my favorite story beats, because it combines a lot of character work and thematic oomph in one: ed being a victim of his own legend and ability to protect himself by hiding in plain sight + codeswitch into the version of himself that best suits the company/situation he’s in, in many ways but often most visibly through his interactions with izzy.
my take on “is blackbeard real or fake” has always been “yes”; blackbeard is pieces of ed filtered and strained and assembled and pruned down in ways that scarred him even as they kept him safe, in ways that are very sad and often stretching the definition of safe as far as ed’s personal definition of murder. nonetheless: it got him to the place he's at, still alive. could he have done it another way? who knows! that was the way he did it, it's the way he knows will work because it did work.
or: he thinks he knows that. but the legend was never all of ed and in fact demanded he spotlight pieces of himself he doesn't like so much a lot and repress a lot of the things that make him feel good, it’s not helping/hurting anymore. it’s just dragging him down.
so ed is sick of the blackbeard schtick; and here’s the rub. if he’d been worse at the art of personal fuckery alongside the pirate type, maybe none of this is happening. the world never knows his name; or worse, once he gets spotted as a man who won't kill they mock it.
that version of ed does not attract izzy ‘ask me about my boner for the sunk cost fallacy’ hands, or does not keep him. because izzy has built his identity around ed’s legend; who is blackbeard’s first mate, if there is no blackbeard? who the fuck even is izzy hands, if he’s not seated at the right hand of edward teach?
now. you would hope, in a better world, that izzy would be like you know, edward, the thing here is: you wanting something different involves emotional consequences for me. i would have to figure out my whole life over again and i am simultaneously con o’neill’s age and emotionally sixteen like the real world me was, so you can see that would be super complicated. i have so fucking much baggage and you are just adding to it, and i do not like that. also: this fucks up my work situation and my home life at once, it makes me feel sad and abandoned and itchy in ways i do not wish to label with words because they would be gay ones like ‘please don’t leave me, i love you and i thought it was mutual’ so like... world rocked, thoroughly and in ways that make me want to rant until past last call, in conclusion this sucks and i think it's twenty mistakes in a trenchcoat, some of them maybe life threatening! i wish you would not.
and then he would step back and let ed make his own fucking choices anyway and either do the work to figure himself out in the same space or finally grab those cds from the car and find his own place to do the same, because a shitty fact of adult life is sometimes people cannot be what we want or need. sometimes that is because they suck: sometimes, it’s just because they can’t or don't want to, and that isn't them being mean or withholding. they don't owe us more than the basic kindness and dignity we all owe to each other just because we put in our hours longing for them to do so. that’s some toxic, entitled shit. understandable! an impulse i share at times! but we should never be That Guy (gender neutral) because the friendzone doesn’t actually exist and nobody deserves to win someone else as a prize for hanging around long enough and driving them to the airport. that’s just called being friends, etc.
izzy is sadly currently stuck on being That Guy. so instead of realizing ed is an adult man and can make his own choices, even if izzy thinks they're bad ones, he fucking panics and starts swinging around and finally runs to big daddy england to make stede bonnet stooooooooop (messing with ed’s brain).
and of course he does something like that! he thinks a relationship is when you metaphorically own each other and when you can only be tender after putting your right foot in and then putting it out before once again putting it in and then proceeding to shake it all about, violent rituals unlock love style. he’s a desperate man in a hell entirely of his own making.
and so is ed, in this entirely different way but stuck in his own fucking orbit as firmly as izzy, only ed is trying to claw his way up and out to see what else he can be, while izzy would do juuuust about anything (including lick the king’s boots) to stay the same forever.
that’s some tragic shit. i love this writing team, the end.
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Idk how influential you are on the LT fandom on a Whole but you definitely inspired me to check out the originals, and especially appreciate Porky/Daffies more. It helps that my favorite short for years was Yankee Doodle Daffy!
AWWWWWWWWW THIS IS SO SWEET THAT IS 100% MY GOAL THANK YOU!! you don’t know HOW much this means to me!
i tend to stay away from fandom spaces/don’t consider myself a part of the fandom, so quite honestly your guess is as good as mine—i HOPE people think of me or associate me with these cartoons HAHAHAHA but 100%, my goal is to spread the joy of the originals and shed a light onto the people who made them and how their experiences and input inform the cartoons as a whole, and maybe how our perceptions of these shorts and characters have changed as time has gone on…
there’s no right or wrong way to enjoy the franchise, but i really do think it is a more fulfilling experience to Experience The Originals for yourself. i really enjoy talking about cartoons that are given less love from a mainstream angle and that 100% includes the Porkies and Daffies (and is also why i’m so adamant about spreading The Porky Gospel; he gets such a bad rap and is so underappreciated and every person i’ve spread my gospel about him to seems to really like or appreciate himself after HAHAHA. Daffy will always be my #1 favorite but he doesn’t really suffer from this, though i absolutely think his ‘40s persona gets a lot of misunderstanding as well)
THIS REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME GENUINELY. making the plunge and checking out the cartoons is the best decision i’ve ever made. there’s a lot of rightful hesitancy to be had since there are SO many cartoons and it’s hard to find a starting point (and not to mention the many, many, many, many aspects that have aged poorly and/or were poor to begin with), but i can’t begin to tell you how fulfilling this experience has been.
so, if anyone who’s following me is cautious about making the plunge, i encourage you to give the originals a chance, ESPECIALLY if you’re into more modern LT media to familiarize yourself with the source material. you absolutely do not have to be a nut like me and watch every single in chronological order, but these cartoons are so ingrained and formative in the animation landscape today that i think anyone with an interest in animation should definitely give them a chance. and, if you’re a bit of a history nut like me, it’s very fun to see the evolution of culture as a whole as the years go on… radios evolve into TVs, the rambunctious attitudes of the shorts during the war years take a more domestic turn after the war, celebrity references depend on the decade, even the stylings of music, and of course the art styles of the shorts themselves… it’s so fascinating from a multitude of reasons. i really can’t tell you how happy i am to hear this (and Yankee Doodle Daffy is a GREAT favorite to have!)
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If you know anyone who seems really chill to the point of being virtually indestructible, like nothing could ever bother them in any way, could get hit by a train and just shake it off and be totally fine, laughing it off as soon as they've dusted themselves off and stopped bleeding, but who occasionally just randomly falls apart to complete fucking smithereens with seemingly no cause nor warning, only to get back up again a few minutes/hours/days later like "ok yeah I'm fine again that was weird lmao", and you've ever wondered what the fuck is up with that:
They are actually not ok and most likely are not ok at any point. The whole "hardiest person you know who just collapses randomly sometimes" thing isn't a deliberately constructed façade, as a matter of fact it might be something that they actually personally believe themselves to be. But in reality this is somebody who's either unintentionally learned or has been deliberately trained to hide negative emotions and mask symptoms at all costs, as the #1 priority that goes over any other survival needs.
So even though it may look like they go from 1 to 100 completely at random and unpredictably, and then swing right back again to being totally fine, you have no way of knowing how long they've been at 95% before the last line of defense broke down and the system collapsed. And once they flip back up, odds are that they just managed to scrape their shit back together again just enough to get their backup masking systems running. The "check engine" light never turned on because the wire was clipped years ago.
If this is you, this is your callout to seek some sort of help. I'm telling on everyone in this room including myself.
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