but deep down, he’d rather be taming horses

a delightful troy habit is whenever i’m sitting on my bed and he hops up to join me, he ultimately likes to settle at my feet but before he does that he has to t pose in front of me totally still with his nose millimeters from my cheek as he beams love into my soul with his gaze for a solid minute before he’s like ………..👍Okei i’m lie down now. it makes me feel like he’s trying to communicate telepathically or conducting a biometric scan of some sort

the thought i keep coming back to with the finale, and this season in general, is a sense of… infestation, i guess is the best way to describe it. because for the first two seasons, iwtv was a work that— even with all its gothic/horror themes— seemed deeply compassionate at its core, and it remained devoted to beauty and love in a way that felt like a reprieve from (even a small rebellion against) the rising fascism of the culture surrounding it. and now it feels like the hatefulness it was pushing back against has infested it somehow, like a swarm of fuckin termites, which has not only ruined this season but also calls into question the structural soundness of what came before it. like, how did we even get here? was this sort of mean-spirited derision always just lying in wait? idk. i don’t want to make a bad season of tv deeper than it is, but it does feel like witnessing another loss in the cultural battle when a careful, compassionate work that ostensibly cared about the marginalised experiences it depicted becomes just another conduit for hatred toward vulnerable groups. what a fucking bummer, man