to me, the funniest thing about “that’s rough buddy” isn’t the fact that sokka says something patently insane with zero context seemingly out of nowhere, or the fact that zuko clearly doesn’t know how to respond. it’s the completely incorrect use of the word “buddy.” zuko would obviously like to be friends with sokka, but sokka is not, in fact, his friend. this is the most time they’ve ever spent together, and it’s because zuko invited himself to tag along on sokka’s suicide mission. at this point in the episode, sokka still hates this guy, perhaps less than he did a week ago, but he still hates him enough that he didn’t bother forcing zuko to stay home, which means he still didn’t really care whether or not zuko lives or dies. which, considering that he had tried to kill zuko multiple times in the past, is not all that surprising. this entire episode is essentially just zuko forcing his friendship onto sokka while sokka is legitimately too depressed to care. so when zuko calls sokka “buddy,” there’s a spirit of dogged optimism characterizing that epithet, because in no possible realm would sokka consider zuko his buddy at this point in the episode. and that’s something we miss when noting the iconicness of this exchange, simply because, by the end of this episode, they are buddies, so in our minds looking back on these lines, the implication of friendship doesn’t feel out of place at all. and really, it isn’t out of place, but only because zuko’s tenacity and determination (in this instance, his determination to befriend sokka) has always hugely outweighed his ability to read the room.
13K notes
·
View notes
the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.
the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.
friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.
if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!
what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!
people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.
you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.
your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.
4K notes
·
View notes
thinking about gorgug thistlespring, a barbarian half-orc raised by tinkerer gnomes, who tried to teach him that his anger was not a bad thing, that he was not a burden, that he should channel those negative emotions into something good and positive, like singing or making things, and so he did. he made friends, he learned the drums, he fought, he protected, he saved the world and met multiple who liked him for who he is.
thinking about gorgug thistlespring, a teenage boy with his first girlfriend, who was so devoted to protecting his friends that he made a mistake, he didn’t consider her feelings, so he fought so hard to make it right, he felt so guilty and so angry at himself so he built something just to be able to talk to her again. his parents taught him to channel his emotions and he realised he was just as good at creating as he was at raging. and even when the nightmare king’s forest threw his fears and insecurities in his face, he carried on, for his friends, because “its gorgug, keep going.”
thinking about gorgug thistlespring, an artificer-barbarian who figured out who he is, what he wanted, what he’s good at, who knows how to channel his anger into protecting and creating, to save the world and his friends, only to be told that he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t do what he wanted, his anger was for destruction, not for creating, not for putting his life on the line for his friends, that all the things his parents had taught him, all the things that he had learned while saving the world were wrong.
thinking about gorgug thistlespring.
2K notes
·
View notes
Prompt 162
“So,” Danny drawled from where he was sitting, legs kicking slightly. Really, what a fun reincarnation. A world with heroes and villains where he didn’t have to do shit in and could just vibe with Ellie.
“So,” Tim responded from where he was typing on his computer, mostly in civilian clothes save for his gauntlets and boots. The Red Robin outfit was haphazardly dropped across the couch and his pole leaning against the end.
“Technically there’s proper procedures for clones…” Danny motioned to both himself and Ellie from where they sat on the counter, snacking on a plateful of scones. From Alfred, he was certain.
“Technically, yes… but do we want to actually do that?”
All three of them smiled, something almost feral in the motion. Of course not. They all had the same memories after all, and Bruce had just returned from the past, from exactly where and when Tim had said he was. Despite no one believing him, hence why they were in his boathouse, and not in the apartment or manor.
“Think we can pull it off?” Ellie took a sip of tea, mischief swirling in her eyes.
“Of course we can.” Both Danny and Tim spoke at once, one pulling up a new doc and the other pulling the whiteboard out from under a curtain.
2K notes
·
View notes