#If you really cared about young folks using social media maybe ask them what THEY think first and actually
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malewifehenrycooldown · 8 days ago
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sure wish governments gave actual time to let the general public actively respond to a potential law change…. Like idk.. instead of it just being in the news, actively redirect people to the government website about it so that meaningful and constructive conversations can be had so that the laws aren’t broken upon release, or even yet scrapped entirely if they get overwhelmingly negative feedback.
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interact-if · 3 years ago
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Day 4 of interviews! Please welcome to the stage... Pime!
Pime, author of The Passenger
Latino Heritage Month Featured Author
Play as an eldritch abomination that’s about to be devoured by  another unthinkable creature. Good news is you are pretty crafty and know how  to jump dimensions to escape your ghastly fate; bad news is, you’re now stuck on Earth, trapped inside a dumb human larva.
As years go  by, you realize the amount of energy you need to leave this horrible dimension behind is a lot more than you had expected. Not  to mention  the creature that almost ate you all those years ago never  really  stopped looking for you. But there’s no way it’ll pin point your  actual  location… right?
The Passenger Demo | Author’s Kofi | Discord | Read more [here]
Tags: sci-fi, horror
(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)
Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!
The Passenger is a project written in choicescript, it tells the story of an eldritch abomination MC that's about to fall prey to another lovecraftian creature. They escape at the last moment and through some interdimensional jumping they end up on Earth, trapping themself inside a human baby in the process. The game takes place 26 years later when MC realizes that the creature is still out there looking for them. Now they need to find a way to escape Earth before the hunter finds them and eats them.
Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?
The first time I came across this type of media, I was around 9 years old. It was one of those CYOA books—The Mystery of Chimney Rock iirc. It blew my mind because it mixed together two things I loved (and still love) a lot: reading, and playing games.
I enjoy writing character interactions and banter the most. I love trying to figure out what makes people tick, what they value the most, and what they don't care about—trying on different costumes so to speak—and interactive fiction is great for that sort of thing. I also enjoy thinking about different ways to overcome the same problem and the freedom of making a story your own through the choices you make.
I think the biggest challenge is putting myself in the shoes of a very logical character tbh; sometimes I have to think about how a cool, collected, analytical person would act in certain situations and it's just... tv static inside my head. Fortunately, IF is this weird collective storytelling in which players ask for choices to be added, so they truly save my bacon in that regard.
Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?
Describing the type of scenery one encounters when hiking on the hills of Maryland. Thank the universe for those hiking bloggers.
Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?
I would say anyone but Fiama; she's so mature and has her life more or less figured out even though she would probably scoff at the notion. If I had to choose one romantic option that's the most like me, I’d pick Jonny: we like the same stuff, are socially awkward, and have the same you-do-you-just-don't-bother-me attitude. I tend to see the glass half full when his is mostly empty though.
Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)
Yes, and I don't think I did it on purpose; it sort of seeped in. Even if The Passenger is set in Maryland, there's little pieces of my own experiences and the experiences of people I've met here and there. Mostly poor folks' since that's what I know. Lots of working-class, too-tired, over-competent-for-the-job-they're-stuck-with types, young parents, passionate, stubborn, funny and loud people trying to do their best with the cards they were dealt. I guess this is true for almost everyone else, which speaks more about capitalism than ethnicity, but there you go.
I also try to sneak in mentions of Latin America whenever I can plus some nods to obscure Argentinian trivia.
Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?
So many things! I love the collective storytelling part of interactive fiction: too many times I see somebody come up with a headcanon that blows the original (mainstream) work right out of the water and I’m left thinking that I would prefer their version over the canon thing, and with IF you have the power to do just that. I also love how much freedom it grants players since most of the time it lets you choose appearance, gender, sexuality, name… do you know how hard it is to find a game in which the MC is a Latino guy with brown eyes and a weakness for GNC people? It’s pretty hard.
Q7: Any advice to give?
To anyone, if you want to write interactive fiction, do it: someone out there will enjoy your game. To my Latinx siblings, the same I told everyone else with a vengeance. Our culture is as beautiful as it is diverse and I don’t know about you but I could do with some new stories, some new ideas that reflect something a bit closer to our childhoods and the stories of our families. That type of thing will always be innovative in a world that spits out 17 marvel movies per year and maybe one Latino character in a short by Disney.
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shoichee · 4 years ago
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hello! may i ask some tips about the instragram acccunts the GoM + kagami could have? like of sort of post, amount of followers, stuff like that THANK U and have a great day !!
THIS IS ACTUALLY HILARIOUS SINCE I BREATHE OFF OF INSTAGRAM LFMAO
[Headcanons]
Kuroko Tetsuya
HELP WHAT IF HE HAS NO PRESENCE ON SOCIAL MEDIA TOO—
professional lurker
never comments on anything unless it’s to congratulate under a friend’s post or something like that
probably started using it because Ogiwara moved from letters and texts to just... instagram (technology advancements, jazz hands)
his account is on private, and he only lets people he knows follow him
all of his posts are pictures to commemorate something or just really wholesome group pictures
DEFINITELY has that picture of the GoMs at his birthday OVA
DEFINITELY also posted the big birthday picture taken at the end of the party
and also had typed very sappy BIG paragraph captions for both of these posts, talking about the journey and him being grateful… y’know, him being him
HIS ENTIRE COMMENT SECTIONS ARE JUST EVERYONE SOBBING AND KEYBOARD SPAMMING??? ONLY LIKE MIDORIMA AND AKASHI POST COHERENT RESPONSES UNDERNEATH
@kiseryouta: kuROKOCCHIIIII!!NEJWIEISK
@momoiowo: TETSUU (ʃƪ˘・ᴗ・˘) YOURE SO SWEET REEEE
@a_daikiii: i stg quit being so corny no one died yet🙄 and @momoiowo relax smh
@shin_chan77: I suppose I can express some form of gratitude for being in my life despite you being a blood type A. (insert a giant paragraph after this)
@4k4shi: This was very touching to read, Kuroko. I’m very glad that our… (insert him going down memory lane)
Murasakibara has no comment LMAO
his entire Seirin team are his hype men under his posts
his profile picture is literally the gray default blank head because he didn’t even set up a profile picture for himself
he has like 20 followers max or something?
8 posts? like, he only posts on special occasions or big events
his occasional stories are always comprised of Nigou and blurry Kagami pictures/videos running away from Nigou UH OH (courtesy of @dust-of-fandoms)
@tetsuya11 for his user handle
@dust-of-fandoms JUST MADE AN INSTAGRAM FOR HIM HERE!!
Kise Ryota
uses his instagram account as a portfolio for his modeling career
majority of his posts are actually pictures he managed to snag from his frequent model shoots
it looks SO professional… but then you look at his IGTVs and his reel videos
his reels are either short clips of mini vlog series he does whenever he visits the GoMs or when he’s recording his Kaijō teammates doing tricks and dunks
his IGTVs are either skincare tutorials, fashion advice… or just… unexplainable, out-of-context shitposts of Kise running away from what fans assumed “a green-haired man” or some “captain”
follower account?? 124k
who wouldn’t resist a hot model?
DEFINITELY HAS A TIKTOK I CAN FEEL IT
@kiseryouta with an official verification next to it
people either love him or hate him
posts a casual selfie from time to time, and people praise him for “being real” LMAODOA AND HE’S JUST STARING AT HIS PHONE LIKE “??? IMIG BUT I JUST FELT CUTE TODAY”
his captions feel fake LMAO like: “Wow! today’s so pretty today!” as he puts a selfie post OR “What’s your favorite game?✨” under a professionally-shot model picture that does not correlate with the caption???
has posted shitposts on his stories and his fans are utterly confused… only the GoMs get it LMAO
Midorima Shintarou
ONLY reason why he has social media is because Takao convinced him that he could let everyone know the daily lucky items for each signs for every post he makes
so for the first 2 months of having instagram he just casually posts a “daily horoscope” report(?) for the day
his content attracted in all the astrology fans and people who are devoted to tarots
and he’s CONFUSED.
… Takao may or may not have played a hand in messing with the algorithms to expose his account to bigger audiences
once Midorima finds out he’s MAD LMAO *insert Takao pain noises*
either goes down two paths: just casually continuing to post the daily Oha Asa predictions without interacting with anyone OR deleting his account and making a new PRIVATE one just for communication/lurking purposes
so he can honestly have 10k followers if he chooses to be a horoscope account or like 3 followers on his private, take it or leave it
maybe he has two accounts if he feels that having instagram has its merits
definitely has a shit ton of random stuff/posts in his saved collections
boomer energy, like… what’s a “reels” feature?? people talk to their phone camera and record that?? he’s squinting really hard and scratching his head
either has 356 horoscope posts on his “main” or like 19 posts on his private
has a rubber duck as a profile picture for BOTH ACCOUNTS HELP HIM
@oha_asa_ for his horoscope account or @shin_chan77 as his personal because he doesn’t know how to change his username (thanks, Takao LMAO)
Aomine Daiki
he doesn’t give a shit about instagram LOL
it’s MOMOI who handles his account because he doesn’t wanna bother with it LMAOO
she would tease him and try to “encourage” him to stop lazing around by taking pictures of him whenever he’s snoozing and posting it
but he’s so damn good-looking that his sleeping pictures got some traction with new fans
Aomine is still sleeping
his account also has pictures of him eating at Maji burger or at a café, and of course Momoi is the one snapping these photos of him
he started caring about it a little more once Momoi told him that he can post videos of himself doing trickshots and one-on-ones to potentially find worthy rivals over the internet and meet up
so now his account (videos, reels, IGTVs) are all riddled with basketball/small parkour footage shot by yours truly, Momoi
so his fanbase is split between thirsty people and people who genuinely admire him for his skills… but I mean there’s also people in both categories, anywho
he’d totally follow his favorite Japanese idols on IG if they had one
also would follow any NBA-related accounts/players he admires
has like 2.7k followers (but growing really fast) with like 176 posts of videos and random pictures of him
his profile picture is literally a picture of him sleeping by Momoi
@a_daikiii
Momoi Satsuki
LOTS OF REALLY cute, playful selfies, and a lot of them are used with cute filters from the Snow app
sometimes would post herself doing a really cute Tiktok dance while in her school uniform
she doesn’t post too much; she’s actually more into posting IG stories and making highlights out of them and then making highlight covers have a coordinating theme together
very aesthetic theme on her feed overall hehe
definitely uses her account to comment on other GoMs posts, often commenting something snarky on Aomine’s and Kise’s
actually has 1-2 IGTVs on the Vorpal Sword’s big game against the Jabberwocks
doesn’t have much of full-body shots/outfit pictures other than mirror selfies because Aomine refuses to take good pictures of her
only when she sees Kise or Kuroko is when she can ask either to be a photographer
she’s definitely gotten a few small collab offers from small businesses, but she usually ignores them because it’s not exactly her thing
her profile picture is just a selfie with a sketch-line cat ear filter
uses a bunch of emoticons on her bio, captions, comments, everything
⌒(ㅇㅅㅇ❀)⌒ or ☆⌒(>。≪) or .₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇. you get the picture
967 followers… that looks way too specific, but it’s somewhere around there; a lot of them came from Aomine’s account after they saw who’s been taking his pictures, and they wanna learn more about her??
around 40 posts?
@momoiowo
Murasakibara Atsushi
Himuro showed him how to use the app, but Murasakibara doesn’t find ANY USE FOR THIS LMAOO
he’d probably only get on it to look at food on the explore page and drool about the cuisines
keeps tabs on local places/restaurants/shops on instagram; those are probably the only accounts he’d follow tbh
it’s probably like ONE post and it’s an old picture of a dango on a plate he ate like 2 years ago
I have this image in my head that he has a really cute bento art as his profile picture?? can you imagine a Rilakkuma-shaped rice as his PROFILE PICTURE?
his bio is definitely: “hungry”
and that’s it
27 followers, and it’s literally just his Yōsen teammates, the GoMs and probably some other classmates of his
his captions are literally empty or 1-2 words
@oomaib0
Akashi Seijuro
only uses instagram because it’ll be beneficial for his company and to expand social networks, plus getting those sweet business deals and engagement
he doesn’t mind seeing really wholesome videos on the explore page though
when he wants to relax, a cat video melts his stress away
laughs to himself while he reads all the shenanigans underneath the GoMs’ posts
DEFINITELY loses a few brain cells seeing trolls and idiots on the internet… especially on controversial or political ones LMAO
he at first had to REFRAIN himself and take deep breaths before he just scrolls on, but he eventually got used to them and can now easily ignore them as easy as he breathes air
he actually enjoys shitposts and meme videos?? like he may not completely understand the meme trends sometimes, but he’ll still find it amusing enough for a chuckle
he ends up being the one who uses instagram the most? like Kise posts a shit ton, yeah, but Kise doesn’t really sit down and just scroll endlessly; Kise releases out content, while Akashi consumes the content
he reasons with himself that it’s to study his current demographics for the company, and while that may be true, Akashi just enjoys social media, plain and simple LOL
he does get to study the behaviors of all the generations using the platform, young folks and old folks alike, and it does get him excited in using his analytical skills to try to figure out people BEHIND a screen rather than those in front of him
it makes a really good challenge for him when he wants a good mental exercise
he has a post or two about his horses, his manor, and a video or two on him playing his violin?? but most are business-related, them being advertisements or business contracts/offers… things like that
his highlights are all about Q&As regarding the company, his background, his skillsets, etc. like an actual resumé
actually links current world issue cards/petitions on top of his company website; he’s quite an advocate
he actually doesn’t post about basketball because that’s something very close to his heart since it reminds him of his late mother… having that mixed in with his company-related posts feels wrong to him
27k followers, most of them are business-related accounts AND some are some followers his father bought for him without Akashi’s input to inflate engagement, etc.
@4k4shi… oh he thinks he’s SO CLEVER FOR MAKING THIS USERNAME LOL with the 4 being his jersey number and the 4s looking like As… AKASHI PLEASE—
his profile pic is like a professionally taken picture, nothing less for our king
his grammar and syntax are impeccable on social media; after all, he’s still being judged for how he carries himself even on the media
Kagami Taiga
mukbang guy… DEFINITELY
hot guy eating nine plates of steaks
IGTVs are filled with mukbang videos because Kuroko said he could make a living off of his appetite
HE COULD MAKE MONEY OFF OF JUST EATING? SIGN HIM UP.
on his posts, he posts dishes he makes for the day/is proud of and talks about the dish and ingredients briefly in the caption
that, or he has pictures of his new basketball shoes LMAO
or all of his basketball merch
HE’S DEFINITELY POSTED PICTURES OF LANDMARKS AND OTHER ICONIC PLACES HE’S TRAVELED TO (*cough* in America)
has a generic Jordan brand logo against a dark background as a profile picture
doesn’t have his face anywhere unless it’s in a mukbang video
279 followers or something
why do I have a feeling that he’ll accidentally blow up when Alex takes his phone to do a quick selfie on it?—
@taiga10
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spectrumed · 3 years ago
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2. voice
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As a child I could not pronounce the letter R. I once complained to my mother for being so careless as to give me a name that had two R’s in it. Fredrik. Or as I pronounced it back then, “Fledlik.” Cute, right? I was a cute child, all blonde and with big blue eyes. At one point, I got surrounded by a group of older girls who forced me to pronounce my name, even though I really couldn’t. They laughed and laughed, teasing me for my inability to pronounce even my own name correctly. If I ever had a reason to develop a fetish for femdom, I think this would have been it.
Like it or not, in speech, there is no room for individual quirks. No, we’ve all got to learn how to speak properly. Historically, that has led to some pretty heinous attitudes towards regional accents, any tongue that was the standard was seen by default as being less or developed and intelligent. Regional accents were seen as practically unhygienic, the worry being that if people just got to speak as they wished, they might end up potentially thinking dangerous thoughts. While I understand the importance of being understood, it’s clear that the stigma that exists around speech difficulties stems from a place of prejudice. If a person has a lisp, do you really struggle to understand them? And while stammering can be quite debilitating, it should be blatantly obvious that shaming people who stammer, suggesting that they are bereft of intelligence, is not the way to help them. Humans are social animals, and language may be the one thing that distinguishes us as a species, it is natural that proper elocution should be treasured. But some people do struggle with their speech, and that should not cost them any respect or kindness.
As a child, I didn’t speak nearly enough. As an adult I am speaking too much. That’s the problem with you, Fredrik, you’ve never understood that there is a middle ground between two extremes. There is a way you can speak that is neither too quiet, nor too loud. It is how normal people speak. Why can’t you be normal, Fredrik? Are you going to spend this whole blog post talking about how difficult it is for you to simply learn to be like everyone else? Self-pitying yourself, much? Back in my day people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, if they had something they struggled with, they learned to sort it all out, and they didn’t start complaining about society being all mean to them. You’re just spending too much time inside your own head, go take a swim, take up a hobby that requires you to step outdoors, it will serve you well. Don’t be a freak, Fredrik. Be normal, for once.
On a side note, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is meant to be understood as an impossible feat. You can’t possibly pull yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s ludicrous to even suggest that such a thing may be feasible. While, yes, there are many things you can do to help yourself, ultimately, you can’t profoundly escape from a sorry situation you’ve found yourself in without some outside help. There is no shame in requiring help. To guilt someone into thinking that if they can’t do it alone, they are weak, is frankly sociopathic. Humans need each other, we take care of each other, we are there for each other. Self-sufficiency is great, but let’s not take it to levels of absurdity by suggesting that needing help from others is anything but normal. No-one succeeds in life without others there to prop them up. Instead of telling someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you might as well tell them to go and swallow the sun, which is clearly another impossible task.
Most people will never in their lives experience what it is like to go through a neuropsychological evaluation. Turns out that it is not always such a pleasant experience. Though, considering the popularity of pseudo-scientific nonsense like the Myers-Briggs test, I am sure some folks would lie and pretend to love it. Certainly, there is a charm to being there and talking about yourself for several hours near-uninterrupted, but the exhaustion that you will feel at the end of it cannot be understated. Naturally, it does vary between who does it, and why they’re doing it. But if the stated goal is to find out whether you’ve had a neurodevelopmental disorder since you were but a young babe, then of course, there are going to be some pretty long conversations happening about those early days. Lots of stuff you may not have considered or thought about in a very long time will suddenly become very relevant to your current situation. And at the end of it all, you get some papers detailing your fashionable new diagnosis. Your entire life, all written down. Can make you feel rather wistful. And there’s really quite a surprising amount of typos included in the text, and barely any jokes.
Still, as part of my official diagnosis, there is a reference to my speech at being at times “stilted.” Though, the diagnosis does take very good care to mention that I appear intelligent and thoughtful, exhibiting a wide vocabulary and a good sense of the right words to use at the right moment. It’s flattering, for the most part. Yet, it does irk me that I could be perceived as being stilted. I know that at this point, I am being petty, because who cares if I sometimes come across as maybe a little robotic. I’ve got Asperger��s. Of course I am a robot. The closest role model we folks with Asperger’s ever had for the longest time was Star Trek: The Next Generation’s android named Data. God forbid anyone like me ever turned out to be the protagonist of a series, we’re all doomed to play the part of the robot, the alien, or the socially awkward geek. I should just be delighted that I am high-functioning. I know how much worse some have it. I should be grateful and pleased that I come across as mostly normal, mostly neurotypical. But… I really just don’t want anyone to think my speech is stilted. I don’t want to be Data. I want to be Riker.
It is never enough, you’ll never be good enough. If you fake it, they’ll see through it. If you struggle and if you work honestly to appear more normal, they won’t recognise it. As soon as they get an inkling you may be an imposter, looking like them, but having a neurologically deviant brain, they’ll single you out. For you, normalcy is an illusion. To attempt to be normal is to remake yourself only to receive nothing. Sure, you can be disingenuous, pretend you're not yourself, but it’ll never fool them. In the end, you’ll only lose yourself. Maybe I should just own the fact that my speech sometimes comes across as being stilted. Maybe I should own it. Be proud of who I am. But… sometimes I just don’t want to be me.
I want to be ignored. Sometimes, not always. But that goes for everyone. But most of all, I’d like to be able to go unseen whenever I’m not trying to impress anyone. When I’m just off to buy some milk. When I’m sitting on the bus. When I’m walking through the park. I know it is partly paranoia, but I can’t help but feel like I stick out. It’s always been like that with my friends growing up. The metaphor I used with my therapist is that I felt like a thumb. That they, my friends, were the fingers and I was the thumb. Sure, we’re similar. In many ways we’re the same. You could even say that I was crucial to making the social dynamics work. Who doesn’t like the thumb? What would you do without your thumb? But still, I was different. Some people would do anything to be different like that, to feel special. Some folks feel all invisible and forgotten in the crowd, and I’d lie if I told them that I didn’t envy them sometimes. The ability to go all invisible? That seems swell! There’s this question people like to ask as a sort of personality test. If you could choose a superpower, would you rather be able to fly, or would you rather be able to go invisible? The answer is obvious, as far as I’m concerned. Of course I’d love to be able to go invisible. To be able to exist without anyone seeing me. Without anyone judging me. Without ever having to worry if someone is going to treat me as different. For a moment to feel what it is like not to be some big, dumb, stupid, thumb.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not too anguished. Nowadays, I feel like I am in a relatively good place. But I would be lying if I told you that I still don’t get frustrated at the plethora of difficulties I face just trying to blend in. Even with family members, people who are supposed to know you the best, even then I have to go out of my way to behave a certain way, to exist a certain way, because fundamentally, they just don’t seem to get you. Not in that way. They have an image of you that you need to try and match. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that sometimes you need to be more direct in your communication to truly reach me, I don’t pick up on the many smaller little social cues they may throw my way, it’s still just me being silly and looking for excuses for why I didn’t understand them the first time around. And I am deathly afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. A very prevalent misconception about autistic individuals is that we don’t care if we’re being rude. That if we are rude, our rudeness can simply be overlooked because, y’know, we’re autistic. While this sort of thing is commonly represented in media that is supposed to depict autistic characters, in real life, things don't quite work like this. Believe it or not, readers, being autistic is not a free pass to act like a dick. Autistic individuals still very much have to modulate our behaviour if we wish to fit in and be accepted. No-one will ever excuse you for being autistic. To be autistic is living with extra hurdles in your way, thinking that it’s anything but a social handicap is romanticising a diagnosis you clearly know very little about.
When I was a kid, I didn’t speak much. As far as I was concerned, I merely spoke whenever I needed to speak. It took until adulthood for me to learn that my parents and teachers were actually concerned about that. I was made to see a specialist, under the guise of learning elocution, but I’ve later come to realise that those meetings were about more than just learning to pronounce the letter R. Like, what does testing my memory have to do with diction? Yes, her job was partly to help my speech develop more in line with the other kids, but she was also there to evaluate whether or not I was intellectually disabled. I have come to learn that I had teachers at the time that were adamant about me going to a different school, more equipped to handle kids like me, but my mother vehemently defended my right to stay in the school I was in. After all, I did have friends, and to anyone who really knew me, they knew that I was a bright child. Sure, I wasn’t as communicative as the other children, but I clearly had no issues processing information, and it’s not like I was disruptive in some other way. But that was also part of the problem. The teachers that thought that I may need specialist schooling were concerned about the fact that I was too placid and too agreeable. They wanted me to express frustration at my lacking pronunciation, to see me get mad at others for not fully understanding me. That amazes me, if anything. The fact that I was a happy kid they took as some indication that I wasn’t quite right.
My mother delights in a memory of me as a kid once slamming my fist on the table and declaring that “now, I am speaking!” May I remind you that I was a cute kid. Sure, it is the sort of behaviour that parents of the old times would have spanked their kids for. Kids in the past were supposed to be quiet. To be seen, but not heard. I wonder if there’d be any kind of hubbub about my early development if I lived back then. I’d probably be seen as the ideal child, all pretty and docile and never too loud. Still, it was a moment my mother cherished, because for once, I really proved that I did have the capacity to speak. Though, I still couldn’t pronounce my R’s. But it was time for Fledlik to speak.
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osdd-1bitch · 3 years ago
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// partly a vent? but also if you have any type of advice as to what i can do pls say,, gotta be honest im still INSANELY fucked on if im a system or not :( for a while i was dead set on it but i ended up just not saying anything to my therapist and fell back into that "ok no thats not me, im just a really vivid daydreamer" mindset.
then your blog auto-popped up as i was typing and i clicked it and im back to that "maybe" thing. im just so conflicted rn ughhh goddamnit :( ive been having an extremely stressful past few weeks (no specifics but alot of my trauma resurfaced, alot of shit triggered me, similar traumatic situations etc) and i missed both of my therapy sessions the past 2 weeks, so ive kinda reverted back to being dependant on alters who im not even sure are alters or not. and even THEN im not sure how to bring up to my therapist that i think i may have OSDD or DID?? like idk how im gonna come back after 2 weeks and say "hey btw all this traumatic shit came back up and i think i might be a system bc i talk to people in my head who arent me lol but anyways can i use ur fidget cube?" ??? SO much has happened and im really debating on just pushing down that it might be osdd/did and pretending nothing is wrong for the sake of keeping myself mentally stable yk ?? gotta say i just dont know what to do at all. lets also not forget im 13 and shouldnt even have to deal w this much stress EVER but dfghgtf. im just really struggling to tell if this is my maladaptive daydreaming or DID man :(
MaDD and plurality are weird to work w, especially since MaDD can and often is be caused by trauma and there are some expressions of MaDD that one could put on the plural spectrum. Its mucky either way and can suck to deal with
before i continue, id like to say our experience on therapy has...not been great so ill refrain from giving therapy specific advice for fear of our past experiences clouding our judgement, but you can share the trauma bits and get some help without talking about plurality. the rings system did some videos that might help about talking to a therapist,red flags ect, lovely folks, you should give em a watch if you havent. either way id say you prolly shouldnt bring this up yet, but info is also good in general
and also, some personal advice, be very very careful on the internet, especially social medias at your age. we were in your shoes once and it did fck us up quite a bit
either way, i seriously doubt youll be taken seriously, not in a bad way, full grown adults struggle to get help. and stressing about specifics can just lead to, you guessed it! more stress. its totally fine to drop all lables and just exist for a while and try and do whatever, talking w sysmates or daydreaming whatever, you dont have to name these experiences for now, just live them. doubt is weird, and youll almost def be wout dxing for a few years either way.
just live your life, try not to bring up trauma wout professionals, and be very safe on the internet, and preferably get off tumblr and move somewhere safer, its really not a place for people your age. i know you probably wont listen to that bit much, but at least be extra super safe.
self dxing can take years btw. its not really a matter of weeks, lived experience and analyzing yourself and just questioning takes a lot of time. take it slow
and its totally fine if its not did. or madd. or either. dont stress, dont try and conform yourself to dxes and stuff rn, especially since you are both v young and just started questioning. im not saying your age means you shouldnt, if you have did you have it rn, but things can take time to come to light. just b honest w yourself and open to the options, mkay? self dxing is a lot of research on top of the work. if you started questiong round now tbh many systems if they questions at your age would get a dx or self dx at like 15,16,17 ect ect, and thats if they question. do what helps you and talk to your therapist, you dont have to mention did but talk about questioning disorders and junk.
this sorta age is when figuring yourself out rlly starts to happen yknow? that doesnt mean you should be cornered off n stuff, n kept away from dxes, but it also means you should be very careful n research a ton. if you find smth you resonate w it, keeping it in the maybe pile for a year or two can seem like its a long time, but will help a ton in the end, if its true or not. if its stressing you out a ton, its okay to not think about it for a bit, you have time.
and again, please please please try and get off social medias they can mess w your head a lot, and try not to share your age online again. im torn abt publishing this n may delete this ask n repost the response, but im not sure
tldr:
i dont wanna tell you to not question or identify symptoms, but things change a lot n you are just dipping your toes into life. take things slow and sit on them, thats the best advice given to us at your age. you could be absolutely right, you could be confused, you could be dead wrong, and all of these are okay. just keep yourself open, research and rlly think abt it (like months of thinking abt it) before it can age properly in the maybe bin. and also be safe online, dont share your age and stuff n keep off toxic n inapropriate sites like this best you can. options are open and symptoms can change over time. just exist and take note of things. dont stress over lables, n self dx should stay in the possibly-maybe bin for now, itll be worth the wait
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krreader · 5 years ago
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BTS scenario → them being your biggest fan.
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pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language ; mentions of sex  genre: crack ; fluff word count: 1.2k+
a/n: the profession is different for each scenario, so I hope you like it love ♥
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kim seokjin
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If he had known that you'd be here, Jin would have prepared himself a little more, because as much as he liked to pretend he was smooth as fuck, he really wasn't when it came down to people he admired, you being the one he loved the most these days.
He didn't like the typical models that were part of the fashion industry, they were too.. basic.
But you weren't. You had personality. And that's what everyone else seemed to be lacking, in his opinion.
“I'm really shocked to hear that you like me,” you smiled happily at him, “After all, you're worldwide handsome.”
“Ah, you know that,” he chuckled a little shyly, “Yeah it's.. a bit much.”
“It's not. I like it,” you grinned, “It really suits you.”
You ended up taking a few pictures together and only a few days later when you posted one of them on your social media page, everyone started to agree that you and him looked really good together.
And he had to agree the most, showing everyone the pictures with the sentence: “Don’t we look amazing together? Wow, our babies would be so beautiful!”
min yoongi
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“You were spotted. Again,” Bang PD angrily shoved the iPad in Yoongi's face, “I told you to wear a face mask!”
“So what? I don't understand what the big deal is, I'm a huge fan of her, I like her concerts and her rap!”
“She's an underground rapper, Yoongi. She raps about sex, alcohol and god knows what! It’s not good for your image!”
“The rest of us started out like this too,” Yoongi was so tired of everyone telling him that he couldn't be a fan of yours because 'it wasn't fitting', “I like her. A lot.”
Bang PD stared at him for a long time, then he sat back down in his chair and quietly stated, not asked, but stated: “You've already slept with her.”
“I like her a lot,” Yoongi simply repeated.
Bang only sighed deeply, his head falling backwards as he closed his eyes for a moment.
There was no use with this guy.. he was too stubborn anyways.
“Just.. use protection, for god's sake,” he finally said.
jung hoseok
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“Show us your YouTube history,” Jin read out what was written on the letter in his hand.
Even though the producers prepared questions like that, they wouldn't actually put it in the Run episode if there was anything inappropriate said, Bangtan knew that, so they didn't have to worry about that.
Hoseok unlocked his phone, then opened his history and showing it to the camera with a proud grin, “I've been watching her dance videos a lot lately, she's suuuuper talented.”
And indeed, his entire YouTube history was filled with videos of you dancing.
“I'm always really inspired when I watch her dance, she motivates me to work harder, you know?”
“Maybe we should invite her for our next video,” Taehyung teased with wiggling eyebrows, all of them laughing at how Hoseok's ears began to redden.
kim namjoon
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Namjoon honestly thought his days of fangirling were over once he became famous himself, but no, they truly weren't.
He felt so giddy waiting in line with that book clutched against his chest, waiting for his turn so that you could sign the copy of your newest book that he loved so much.
Well, actually, he loved all of your writing, but this one was just so special to him. He must have read it at least five times already and whenever he had a quiet moment he liked to come back to it and read it once more.
“Ah, yes, they informed me a famous person would come today,” you chuckled when Namjoon was finally standing in front of you, “But they didn't tell me just how famous.”
“Don't start, you're just as famous as me,” he blushed and smiled.
“Mh, I think you're underestimating yourself there, sweetheart,” you licked your lips, then signed his copy.
“I'm.. such a big fan, seriously. I loved your last book, but this one is just.. mind blowing! The way you write the characters and portray emotions is just always giving me goosebumps, really!”
“Aw, thank you so much,” you closed the book and handed it back to him with an even bigger smile, “Maybe we can talk about it when we have more time!”
Namjoon didn't know what you meant then, because he had to leave as soon as he got the copy to continue on with his schedule for the day, but when he was back in the car and opened it, he smiled from ear to ear.
You had written down your phone number.
park jimin
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The question of 'who is your idol in life' was one that was usually answered with a famous person or a family member.
But for Jimin, it wasn't like that at all.
“I thought your bike got stolen, grandma?” Jimin had asked one day when he visited his grandmother and her bike was standing where it was always standing.
“Ah, right, I forgot to tell you. This really nice police lady helped me track it down. A wonderful young lady, so polite and beautiful. She stops by every other day with food to check up on me and the other old folk in this area.”
Jimin had been surprised by that, he had never heard of police officers doing that.
He was fortunate enough to meet you in person only a day after and ever since that day, he became your biggest fan. You caring so much for people and truly protecting them was something he admired so much.
kim taehyung
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Taehyung had wanted to attend one of your shows for years now, but whenever you came to Seoul it seemed like he was either too busy, or out of town for a concert himself to go and watch it.
But tonight he finally managed it.
The concert hall was filled to the brim, everyone being so quiet, mesmerized by the way you played that instrument.
And as Taehyung was watching you play it with so much grace and dignity, he couldn't help but smile to himself, the stress from the previous weeks slowly but surely washing away.
And when you were done and bowed, he could have sworn that your eyes met for a moment and that you smiled at him with just as much admiration as he smiled at you with.
jeon jeongguk
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“Since when did you become such a frequent Twitter user?” Namjoon asked with furrowed eyebrows, looking over Jeongguk's shoulders who furiously typed out a tweet.
What surprised Namjoon was how embarrassed Jeongguk looked and how he immediately pressed the phone against his chest like he was trying to hide something.
“Never. I don't use it,” he shook his head and looked at the leader with big eyes.
Taehyung took that moment of him not paying attention to steal it from his hands and then run around the couch to bring a bit of distance between the two.
He was laughing wholeheartedly at how he was teasing the maknae, but when he finally looked at the phone, he realized that he wasn't using their account, but a private one. And not just any account but a.. stan account.
“Does (Y/N) know you are the proud owner of 'theoneandonly(y/n)'?” he mocked.
“Stop this,” he finally managed to get a hold of the phone again and looked around the room, now all the members laughing, “She's getting a lot of hate these days, okay? I'm just trying to spread positivity.”
“Mhm, I'm sure that's it,” Jimin laughed happily and clapped on Jeongguk's back as he walked by, all of them knowing that it was more than just that.
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bxllafanficc · 4 years ago
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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)
(Part two)
Part two. Part one Part three Part four part five
Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none
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*Your POV*
There. All set and done. You took a last look at the pair of eyes staring back at you in the full body mirror. Your hair all dried up with a blowdrier and a pair of white jeans along with your favorite leather jacket. A grey turtleneck on that and that was the outfit for today. Keeping it classy since Victor failed to cancel the meeting with the press a couple of hours from now. 'A big hoodie would've been the ideal alternative though' you thought and sighed. Nowadays it's all about keeping it as simple yet kind of professional for every day. Social media were all star struck about the world's latest announcement. 'Winner of this year's Grand Prix senior division goes on a tour with none other than the (y/n) (l/n)!' The newspapers were first out as usual thanks to the reporters crowding her personal space since two weeks from now since the news came out. A collaboration between a figure skating competition and a competition for vocalists. You never saw that coming but you could see the appeal. The currently hottest male skater along with a popular female singer, fighting for the spotlight even though they're sharing it evenly. Him with his skills and she with her voice. You agreed to participating when asked, of course. It was a great opportunity and experience. And currently you sought out every great possibility at the market right now. That's what lead you here.
You made your way out the room you were staying in and headed towards the dining area in deep thoughts. 'So that's Yuri Plisetsky up close?' You thought as you passed the living room. You entered the dining area and stood still at the entrance to take in the scene before you. Yuri Plisetsky is sitting at the dining table with his back facing you. Beside him with his side profile turned at your direction is coach Yakov who's chatting with Victor and Yuuri opposite of the table. Yuri is not talking. He's busy eating a dish called the pork cutlet bowl, you assumed. You had never tried one before but the dish was all too familiar thanks to the last Grand Prix competition on Yuuri Katsuki's behalf. You eyed Yuri carefully and entered the room. He's a little shorter than what was given away on television but other than that, very much the boy you'd seen competing time to time. His skating was without doubt impressive to say the least. His jumps were always perfect as expected and his upper body movements in beat to the music. Though, you always deemed something missing in his already amazing performances. Expression. The year he won gold at the senior division, you saw some great scenes of emotion displayed in his skating but it was clear that he never let them consume him. It always looked as if there was something on his mind and that held him back, even made him stop and hesitate sometimes.
"Whoo! (Y/n) is back! Yuri! Meet your coach in musical expressional performance."
The boy's attention was suddenly entirely on you now, in comparison for being totally relaxed and unfocused. He tensed up and the pair of breathtakingly blue and green eyes widened at her for the second time today. 'Hope this is not becoming a regular habit of his' whenever he sees me. It's starting to get a little embarrassing.'
"You! What even- What are you doing here?! A-aren't you like 19 years old or something? That's just two years away from me! That's.. You're far too young to be my coach!" The startled reaction of his kind of made you wonder what was up. He did meet you just about- ah. Your face mask and your covered hair clearly disguised you well enough for the boy not to recognize you. Though he clearly knew you.
"Great, so you're familiar with me. Then I don't need a further introduction." You flashed him a smile.
"Who isn't familiar with the star of We Are Voice and winner of gold two years in a row? At this point, you're basically stealing the spotlight I fought so hard to gain at my senior division debut." The words came out in a mutter and the negative impact of the comment made you raise an eyebrow at the boy on the floor in front of you. He still hadn't stood up to greet you which would be the appropriate thing to do first time meeting your coach. Then you pouted and leaned your now crossed arms against the wall to your right.
"Though, I am a little disappointed you didn't recognize me by voice. I mean, if I am as famous as you speak of, you surely would've known right away." That just earned a scoff from him.
"There are thousands of girls who sound similar to you. Yes, even with that (nationality) accent. Your voice isn't that special." The other men in the room widened their eyes. Ouch. And he's just as grumpy and homeboy teenage-crisis as he was portrayed in television and social media as well. You had thought it was only mere acting in an attempt to shun people away and making the attraction towards him less appealing.
"I see... Well that's one way putting it."
It certainly worked on you, you had thought for several years now but turns out he's just a jerk. Yakov moved to get in Yuri's face and scold him.
"Where is your manners? Quit playing a brat all of a sudden."
"What? Am I not allowed to speak my mind now when you have to suck up to miss universe over here all of a sudden?"
You raised a silent hand for the arguing pair to let their words die down and then you locked gaze with the insolent boy. Your eyes were blank but rock hard and you could swear that you saw a faint gulp forming in his throat.
"Get on your feet and get over here. Turn sideways." At least I didn't have to ask twice. But I didn't really ask him either. He rose to his feet and took some hesitant steps towards me. It was clear that he didn't trust me. 'Something to work on' I hummed to myself. His posture was stiff and crooked but after another word from Yakov, he straighten his back for me to see him properly. He pulled the hood of his hoodie off and mirrored my blank hard stare. I began to circle him, getting a fair look on what I would be working with for a set of weeks. His eyes didn't dare follow mine as I stepped beside him, knowing that I was out for him to break character. A stale being is much harder getting to know than a forward and open one.
Then, when you were behind his back, you reached out with your hand to his back and - shoved him casually forwards. A yelp of surprise echoed through the room as he stumbled and fell towards Victor who caught him right before hitting the floor face first. You and Yakov locked gaze and gave each other a slight nod before you once again turned to the upset boy.
"What the hell was that? You pushed me for what? Are you that sensitive for a little negativity for once?"
"Your balance is off." You simply said with the same blank expression and a headshake. He seemed dumbfounded of the answer and got off Victor with quick feet. He was close to you this time and the daggers you received was intended to leave wounds after he was done.
"Because you pushed me."
"Exactly."
"I wasn't prepared!"
"Exactly."
"We have some work to do, Yuri. Your break has been too long, it seems. She was only picking up on where you left off, in a way." Yakov spoke up between the one-sided staring contest. The boy turned towards the man which included his back facing my front once again. But this time, he was careful on taking a few steps forward to avoid history repeating itself.
"She's not you. She shouldn't do your job. It's none of her business anyway."
"It actually is if you think harder on it. There's no point in me working on your emotional performance if your practical performance is flawed. A skater who can't manage a simple shove will not get up on his or hers feet at the competition as well." You expected some kind of backlash from Yuri, at least a glare or something. But you were met with nothing to your surprise. He didn't speak up either.
"It's settled. You and I will rehearse you back into your former shape before your time with (y/n) begins, starting tomorrow. Meanwhile, also take some time to get to know each other, you two. You seem to need it." Yakov declared the schedule and choose to pinpoint the obvious tension between you and Yuri. You somewhat agreed on spending time besides training. Though, you would rather not take a verbal beating more than once a day further on.
Yuri still didn't speak up but he didn't object either.
"(Y/n), there's food left for you too! Please join us for dinner." Yuuri Katsuki exclaimed and waved an energetic hand towards the bowls and plates on the table. In front of you, you saw the back muscles of the Russian skater's form tense at the words.
You had to decline though. If not for the meeting, then for the sake of giving Yuri some space. It must be hard, after all. Whatever's he's going through right now.
"I would love to! But I have to excuse myself this time. After all, I have a meeting to attend and if I don't get going, I'll soon be running late. See ya folks later!"
And with that, you dashed off.
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scottymcgeesterwrites · 3 years ago
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Some Goddamn Curtains
When I was in college, I kept getting the compliment, “Wow, your room is really nice for a guy.”  I never understood what that meant for the longest time.  Then I actually paid attention to how most guys kept their dorm room. I once waited for a guy to get ready to head down to an event. I realized that I had never actually stepped foot in his room, much less even glanced inside of it. So when he stepped out and said he was ready to go, I leaned to the side over his shoulder and oh my god it was like downtown Baghdad during the worst of the Iraq War. Damn bruh, you live like this? I liked all my college roommates but the most untidiest one was in sophomore year. He left his toothbrush lying around in the open in a sock drawer, and it would end up somewhere else each night. Maybe he liked to play scavenger hunts to keep himself on his toes? He never put the DVDs back in their respective cases. I once couldn’t wait to watch Iron Man with a friend at their dorm, only to open the case once I got there and realize that my roommate had replaced it with Season 1 of Martin. He would also do this thing where he would drink a can of Coke (that I bought), not finish it, put it back in the fridge, then later open a new can of Coke that he didn’t feel like finishing, and rinse and repeat. First year roommate wasn’t that bad. Third year roommate was nearly as tidy as I was. Then in my fourth and final year I lived alone,  so my sense of the idea that “guys were messy” didn’t really hit me because I’ve only had one bad experience and chalked it up to “It was just that one guy”. I’m 31, and by now I have noticed people saying things like, “Oh my God I was actually thinking about what curtains I liked and I’m such an adult. This is what adult thinking is like. I’m adulting now.”
I hate hearing shit like that. I grew up blithely admitting liking things that an adult would “normally like”, such as curtains. The curtains thing came up in high school when I hung out at the senior lounge. The senior lounge was this bare room that looked like it was meant for old people to sit and play bingo. It was boring and dull and I hated it. It felt more lke a prison cafeteria really, with some worn out couches. I would bring my video games to that lounge, namely GoldenEye 007, to play with friends during our free period.  The room didn’t have any curtains, so at a certain time in the afternoon, the sun would beat down directly onto the screen, making it difficult to see properly. A lot of us would squint and move closer or lean forward.  I then said, “This room needs some curtains.”
A pause, and then someone replied, “Did you just say this room needs curtains?” And I was like, “Yeah. Maybe something blue. Something dark.”
And he looked at me and scoffed, and all the other guys did the same - they gave me this funny sideways glance and scoffed. I asked what the problem was, but they mostly shook their heads in disbelief. I was frankly annoyed by their response. So I said, louder, “This room needs some goddamn curtains”, because I thought it was perfectly fucking reasonable that a person would logically do something about the fucking glare from the fucking sun. Maybe they liked blinds better. Who knows? But it took me ages to fully realize two things:  1. It’s not socially acceptable for boys to be interested in style - whether it be about living spaces or clothes. I was fiercely made fun of for the clothes I wore as a kid throughout young adult life. I hated all kinds of t-shirts. I think growing up thin and gangly made me too self-aware of my arms. But I never specifically wanted to wear anything that had a band name or a company logo or even my favorite video game or movie. I would feel like a walking advertisement, and that would piss me off. I often liked ties, long-sleeved shirts, and sweaters. I never left the house in sweatpants or pajamas. I always had to comb my hair and put on a good shirt. Sweatpants were when you worked out or worked around the house fixing things.  I grew up in Catholic school, so we had uniforms. On dress down days, my classmates would come up to me and say, “Eddie, you were supposed to dress DOWN, not up” or “I can’t believe you’re wearing that on a dress down day!”.  I didn’t have a problem with people dressing how they dressed. Sure I was never into the goth thing, but I didn’t want to judge. I just wanted to dress how I wanted to dress. And maybe I was influenced in some way by how my parents dressed me up, and maybe other times I did feel embarrassed, but I knew that at the end of the day I would wear what felt most comfortable to me. Sometimes my mom would give me a sweater that was a tad too bland, so I went to the bathroom once I got to school and took it off. I would like the polo but untucked it and unbuttoned the top buttons. Half-and-half. Right idea, but lemme wear it like this instead. College was really when I started to develop my everyday style, my “main outfit”, like a video game character. I always wore some untucked button-down shirt with a tie, jeans, and sneakers. I liked it. It was this weird blend of dressing up and dressing down. People my age thought I was overdressed but my parents and people over 50 complained that I was underdressed. It was great! It feels so special to piss off both sides! My parents still remember the time I got an award at college and I went up the stage wearing that getup. You look at the picture and see the students standing side-by-side in nice dresses and dockers, and then there’s me wearing jeans and sneakers with a shirt and tie.  There always seemed to be this false dichotomy for how men should look and be - either the dapper “metrosexual” man who was slightly effeminate or the rough-and-tumble strong man who didn’t need to use an umbrella when it rained and never cared to fix his hair because that’s some “gay shit” for silly city folk. That false dichotomy is always played out in media. There’s a million buddy cop movies about the book-smart guy who is suave and sophisticated teaming up with the street-smart guy who is all muscle and manly and goes for the more practical route. Yin and Yang. Hot and cold. Good cop and bad cop. Lucky and Wild. Tango and Cash. But growing up I thought, “Why not both?” I loved watching James Bond as much as I loved watching Indiana Jones. Why couldn’t I be both if I really wanted to? It fit me best to play both roles. I AM GOING TO MIX THESE TWO THINGS AND YOU CAN’T FUCKING STOP ME! I WILL BE BOTH BOOK-SMART AND STREET-SMART. I KNOW THE QUADRATIC EQUATION AND HOW TO CON SOMEONE. THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM.  The fucking worst though is being an adult now and hearing women wish they knew a guy who “dressed properly”, and men complimenting my clothes saying I look sharp.
Fuck all of you, honestly. 2. Young people are afraid to admit they like things that adults like. I grew up with extended family members living in cozy homes. I liked to admire their grandfather clocks, their decanters, their entertainment center, their offices and their chairs. I liked to wander around their houses during the holidays and poke my nose into their closets and admire old things. Maybe it’s something that an only-child might relate to the most. I wasn’t required or asked to be upstairs to attend a younger or older sibling. The adults just did their own thing and so I wandered off. Ikea always tickled my fancy as a kid. I would wander through the model rooms of offices and bedrooms and bathrooms, and I found whatever felt coziest to me and pretended that I was home. Better yet, I sometimes daydreamed that the entire Ikea facility was my home. How about that? Tired of sleeping on the bunk bed? Go to the next room to the big bed. I feel like cooking in that kitchen today, not this one. Some days I’ll feel more serious and work in the wooden office desk and other days I’ll feel silly and be in the kids room. I’ll take the whole building, please. This is where I live now. Swedish meatballs for dinner and creamy European chocolate bars for dessert every day. Young people fear being old and facing responsibilities. That doesn’t mean you liking these things makes you older. Taste and style is part of who you are, and there’s no shame if you have an interest in some bath mats or a nice decanter when you’re 20 or 17.
When I lived in my single dorm back in senior year of college, I realized that I was truly living alone for the first time. It brought some sanity to me that I didn’t know I needed. I was able to organize things how I saw fit, and hosted parties whenever I wanted. If I felt like something needed adjusting, I didn’t need to ask anybody’s permission. I really started exploring my sense of style and taste. As I grew up, I developed really specific tastes about where I would live: 1. Everything has to make sense. The placement of shelves, TVs, desks, dressers, paintings, pictures, all have to feel like they are easily viewed and accessible without needing to awkwardly turn to face them or reach them.  2. Symmetry is not always necessary but still good to fall back on when you don’t know what to do. 3. I never liked to sit with my back to the window(s) or the door. I always needed to see who or what was going to approach me or look at me.  4. TVs should never go on top of fireplaces.  5. Always have some kind of drawing room for guests to wait.  6. Never put your keys or sensitive documents in the foyer, drawing room, or wherever else strangers can easily find them the minute they walk into the house.  7. Open concept is pretentious.  8. It is far easier to cook if you have an island in the kitchen.  9. McMansions are the bane of style. Fake balconies, fake shutters, brick facades - everything about them is evil.  10. Get some goddamn curtains.
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17. A Song About Simon
Word Count: 4369. I don’t think that there’s any triggers in here besides the fact that Grace is still in the institution (which will be maybe another chapter or two, depending on how writing goes), and her and Hazel’s issues from previous chapters. I just want to announce here, like I’ve already told fandom familiars... I do not hold any of you to trying to read this story or any story that I may write. I do appreciate if someone reads, but I also understand that everything is not for everybody, I’m not for everybody, and my work isn’t either. At no time do I feel entitled to your reading and nobody should feel pressured to try to read anything that I write. I will love to hear from y’all and know that you enjoy reading, but if you can’t or don’t, that is your right, Folks. This is an ugly story with ugly content and hard topics, but even if it wasn’t, you still wouldn’t have to read, review, or reblog. I just want to make that clear for those of you in my space. Thanks for your time.
Previous
Whenever she first arrived, she was scared to get the help that she knew she needed. She always thought about how her parents had shot down the idea of it whenever her old driver was concerned. How they seemed to feel like it would mean that the work that they put into her as parents would be ruined if she needed mental help. Then, she would think about her 16th birthday, when her mother said that maybe he was right… the way it felt like her mother was saying that at that moment, she knew that Grace was a waste. “You’ll regret it…” her voice echoed in Grace’s mind. “If only someone had warned you…” The last day that she saw her. 
Months had passed. Her parents didn’t even visit. Someone still controlled her social media. Because videos of her singing at the facility and captions insisting that she was getting the help she needed would show up. Grace didn’t know who was responsible for that, at the time, but all of the comments were disabled on all of her accounts. She didn’t want to imagine what people would have to say about her trying to recover.
Eventually, she warmed up to her doctor and the staff. She warmed up to her treatment, to the fact that she had to get better before anybody would let her go anywhere. Her goals became forgiving Simon, accepting responsibility for the things that she did and potentially reaching out to him to suggest that he try to get help as well. She knew that the first and last ones would be the hardest for her, so focusing more on self growth and accountability became her brand of help, at the moment. At least, she went through the motions.
Some days were better than others. Sometimes, she got onto the computer in the library and searched his name. He seemed like he was doing fine, in terminology, but he didn’t look great. That was a lie. He looked great. He was a little more muscular and his hair had grown out. He looked like maybe he had tattoos, though she couldn’t see what. But, he didn’t look happy. Good, she told herself. Even if she wondered in the back of her mind if that was an accurate observation, wishful thinking or unconditional love causing her to worry. Sometimes, she checked his social media pages to see what he was talking about. 
She watched him receive badges, be crowned prom king, be valedictorian, travel to go to MIT… He really seemed like nothing was bothering him. He had thrown her to the wolves and just smoothly carried on… She would always be mad all over again, that he didn’t even care. It wasn’t even everything that he did to her! It was… but more importantly, it was the fact that he was able to do it and live like it was nothing to him. 
But, that usually made for a very progressive therapy day, and a productive music session. She’d asked her caregiver about the posts on her social media. That was who she eventually found out was responsible for curating the content during her stay in here. “What about my rights?” Grace wondered. She had been creating a lot lately and whenever something got posted, she didn’t know the copyright status or anything legal pertaining to her very personal art! 
“Your team takes care of all of the details like that. I basically just post and properly word updates about your healing process and progress. Your team decides which posts to make public or private. (I always post them privately, and sometimes someone comes in later to make things public).”
“It just doesn’t seem fair. I’m being my most authentic self, trying to be my best self and things that I use to get there are now being subjected to my mother and her team of handlers for me.”
“I can’t speak on feelings about it, but as of right now, you are still a minor and still in our care. That means that your welfare and decisions are decided by your parents, who are your legal guardians and us, who you’re a ward of. Whenever you turn 18, if you are mentally capable enough, you will be able to have more control over that type of thing.”
“I’m 18 pretty soon! But… mentally capable… I mean… I feel like I’m mentally capable enough to discuss my legal rights to my art, but I don’t know if I’m capable of like… rejoining society…”
“Well, whenever you do turn 18, we’ll talk about how you’re feeling and assess what you’re capable of. In the meantime, you can always tell me if there’s something that you just want to keep for you, and I promise, I won’t post it. But, your music and the fact that you’re creating in here is inspiring a lot of young people struggling with mental illness and it is warming people up to you since the scandal that led to you being here.”
“I… don’t care about those people right now. I just… want to heal and create.” 
“Fair enough.”
Stingray Lyrics
You were burrowed in the sand.
I didn't know that you were there.
I reached out my hand, 
only to connect with someone…
But you weren't prepared for my touch.
You didn't know that I would never hurt you.
I dug in a little too much,
And in your startled state you made me regret it.
Like a stingray, you were so cute.
Just living life, just doing you.
But I had to reach for something else, I HAD to have you for myself and it stung me.
Getting too close to you really stung me.
She scribbled the words down, humming the melody. She wasn’t sure if Simon was out there somewhere being bothered to even think about her, but if he was, she wanted him to have to see or hear things about himself.
There wasn’t sheet music in here, but she could use her notebook and sort of guess where the lines would be. She had requested sheet music weeks ago! She was trying to teach Hazel how to read music, too. They usually were able to spend time together twice a week. Technically, they weren’t assigned to the same areas, but one of the caretakers would always make an exception and help them to see each other, because they just seemed to be really good for each other. Neither of them had any other friends there. 
They weren’t antisocial, but they just only really clicked with each other, and Hazel had not been thinking she was a turtle nearly as much since she met Grace, and Grace’s almost entire first year there had been monotonous and for the most part stagnant until she met Hazel. Hazel seemed to make her want to be better, want to move forward on something other than the pendulum of attacking herself and defending herself for things she did and didn’t do. Hazel helped her to really seem to grasp empathy. 
.
They were stretching, silently, getting ready for the dance lessons that Grace would give her near the playground, during activity time. Grace was really quiet, with Hazel was singing to herself. Suddenly, she wondered, “Grace, did either of your parents sing to you when you were a child?”
Grace scoffed and shook her head, “No. Neither of my parents did any of the TV parent stuff. My dad was a lawyer, politician, and ambassador. My mom was a high paid performer turned model turned socialite, the daughter of someone just like my father. Most of their parenting was instilling a certain image on me, or having a nanny take me away if I didn’t quite fit the bill in time enough for guests or appearances.”
“What’s ‘appearances?’”
“It’s like when you have to go somewhere just to be seen. For my dad’s job, there were political or business meet and greets, sometimes charity functions, auctions and stuff like that, and at times it was simply an extremely elegant dinner party or some dignitary’s kid’s birthday event. My last birthday party was…” She frowned, thinking about how that night ended. The beginning of the end in her mind. She looked at the charm bracelet that she had managed to still never take off, despite everything. 
“Was what?” Hazel wondered.
“Too much. It was too much. I’ve always lived pretty extravagantly, but I think whenever I leave here, I might like to get an isolated place and sort of just live there with maybe a pet or something. I’m never going to have guests over for dinner parties or house any ambassadors.”
“Can I come over?” Hazel wondered, timidly.
“Yes! Of course, if your parents let you…”
“I’m never gonna have parents.”
“Hazel!” Grace called. The younger girl just shrugged her shoulders. Grace sputtered air out of her lips and shrugged too. “Well, who needs them, anyway?” 
Hazel threw her a look. “I do, Grace. I need them. I’m 6.”
Grace frowned. “I know. I’m sorry. You’re right. I have a really bad habit of saying whatever I think is gonna make people I care about feel better. It's one of the things that I need to work on. Of course you need parents. Every child needs parents… which is why I’ve gotta believe that you’ll get some! And whenever you do, they’ll hopefully let us be friends. We have a very big age gap, so I don’t know how comfortable they’ll be with you just coming over.” Hazel looked like she was thinking about something as she stared ahead, but she was still standing, so Grace figured she wasn’t a turtle right now. “Ready to learn our new hip hop routine?” Now, she blinked and looked at Grace with enthusiasm, nodding vigorously.
.
Making time to put together figures was hard, but Simon had all of his figures with him whenever he moved from his family house shortly after the clash with the void. The fame that he had risen to over his scandalous book deal and all of the allegations against it had gotten him a very comfortable situation. He was wealthy, in his own right, and schools that he might have needed Mr. Monroe to get into previously were no longer something to be dangled in front of his face. He actually missed the Monroes. Mrs. Monroe less than her husband, but both of them. They really weren’t as bad as she made them out to be. He believed that much. But… they belonged to her. He could have them on his side for a while, but not after all of this. He hated not having Mr. Monroe to bounce things off of. He’d sacrificed a mentor to get rid of the void. 
He had tried not to pull them into it, but eventually, the narrative began that her parents were using him, as well. That he was something to taper their wild-child and as soon as he stood up for himself was financially cut off. Mr. Monroe had been very public about the fact that unfortunately, they knew nothing of their daughter’s extreme condition until she viciously attacked her mother. Simon would have paid money to see that cat-fight. Simon felt bad for them, having lost their daughter to the void, so he withdrew accusations of the crimes, though several of them couldn’t be taken back, as the victims wanted to sue personally. But, the Monroes fared fine, after all of the settlements or wins. Simon wondered whatever happened to the charm bracelet, but he pushed that from his mind. 
He still carried the name The Apex, though many companies used that or had it in their name, so he couldn’t trademark it, but the general of his Apex was that if you were tagging The Apex, Simon Says was also there.
He took his book opportunity as his big chance to move forward with his other works. They didn’t sell as well, but he could say at 17 that he was a bestselling author for Free From Grace, and that by 18, he had published several books from throughout his adolescence and had a huge trilogy deal that he intended to have released by the time he was 20. 
Senior year in high school was a blast. He was worshiped and kids who had only held allegiance to him via the void either came around or were fun to alienate as nulls. Shana rose to popularity and the two of them continued their banter, a little will they won’t they brewing, as far as he was concerned. She got rid of her weave and replaced them with braids for going natural. Apparently, she was going to be going to an HBCU and she wanted to finally wear her hair “the way it was intended,” when she got there. It made her look ever more like Grace to him, despite the fact that Grace had never worn braids, only locs, and the full out afro she had whenever she left. 
Maybe he was just weakening again… missing her… “Hey, Shana - we should attend the prom together,” he said, as they sat across from each other at their desks in the newsroom.
She looked up at him with only her eyes, not lifting her head from her work, but he could still see the disdain in her eyebrows. “For what reason would I ever even consider something like that?” 
He laughed and leaned back in his seat. “We’re the apex of the student body.” She groaned at the word that she was BEYOND sick of hearing. “You’re the most popular girl in school now, and while not my equal, the best of what we have. We both know that you and I will be class favorites and prom king and queen. Might as well make an entire thing out of it.”
She raised her head now and he was confused by her expression, because it was still clearly disdainful. “Simon. I don’t care if I was going to win a cash prize of a million dollars. I would never even so much as think about attending anything with you. Thanks for asking.” She shook her head in disbelief and continued working.
“Why not? Did you not hear the reasons this works out perfectly?”
“I heard the reasons that you think I’m a status symbol that for whatever reason would actually want to be seen with you. They weren’t reasons that I would overlook who you are as a person and how I feel about you as such to put on some sort of publicity show for a bunch of kids that I’m never going to see again, because if I ever come to a class reunion, it would be to see if Grace showed up and how she’s doing.”
“Nothing that you said makes any sense. Me as a person? I…”
“You’re a bad person,” she said. He laughed, then stopped. Oh, she’s serious? “Simon… I, along with the entire student body watched you destroy a girl that we knew you were once like this with.” She crossed her fingers. “We watched you lie on her, make her out to be worse than she was, and bring her so low that she’s in an institution!”
“You hated Grace, and now you’ve taken her place as the boss bitch.”
“Grace and I did not get along. We argued. We dissed each other. We competed. We hurt each other. We were mean and nasty to each other, and even I can see that what you did to her was fucked up.”
“You didn’t try to stop me.”
“That’s not my business. But what IS my business is the company I keep. It would never be somebody who would turn on even his day 1. Nobody even would have cared about you if it wasn’t for Grace and I still to this day think that you’re the one who shared that video of you two. Your lost and found again laptop story was always corny to me.”
“You seemed to get a kick out of it at the time.”
“Yeah, of humiliation! She got a kick out of it whenever my father was arrested for white collar crime! Fucking with each other was our dynamic! But you were supposed to be the girl’s friend, and you didn’t just fuck with her, you fucked her up. Everybody thinks it’s so funny? They’re only amused because they’re scared that you might fuck them up too. If you did it to her, there’s no telling what you’d do. You’ve got people thinking that the old rumors are true..” He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at her. The old rumors. That he killed his sister. They were true, but it was an accident. “In short, I don’t care about any of your reasons. You asked me to prom. I decline. End of discussion.”
“So… you don’t like me anymore because I stood up to Grace, something you did all of the time. We’re on the same side now!”
She stared at him and for a moment, he saw fear. That wasn’t something that Shana showed very much. She cleared her throat and wondered, “When… When did it ever cross your mind that I would EVER like you, Simon? You have been a jerk the entire time that I’ve known you. When Grace and I were rivals, you were disgusting to me. You’ve called me out of my name, tried to tear me down about my looks and my family. Where in the world would you ever get an idea that I could possibly like you, even as just a person that I know of?”
“Because of our banter…”
“Arguing.”
“All of the flirting…”
“Clearly happened in your mind, but did not happen in mine.”
“The way that you always blush whenever we talk! I know what it looks like when somebody your skin tone blushes. I knew Grace like the back of my hand.”
“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing. I don’t like you. I have never liked you, and I have never BLUSHED when we talk. What you should know, as the young genius that everybody tries to make you out to be, because this is science related, biology, if you will… Is that what you’re describing as blushing, is actually heat rushing to one’s face. My heartbeat accelerates, I may even sweat a little as I get hot and my blood rushes. That’s not because I have a crush on you. It’s because you are one of the most infuriating people to have a conversation with. Because in addition to being a rude jackass, you are a delusional egotist. Every conversation I have with you makes me want to punch you in the face. And I know that if I do, they’ll toss my ass out of here and that will mess up me following my mother’s footsteps as a Spelman College Delta Sigma Theta! You, Simon Laurent have never been worth anything to me, certainly not my future. I’m sorry for Grace that she didn’t know that, but my parents raised me with the utmost love and confidence. I don’t need anybody like you to upgrade me, and I love myself too much to even entertain you as a friend. And my father, who you love to try to weaponize against me, after serving his time is still worth at least five times as much as yours…”
Simon threw over things from her desk and she jumped. His eyes went wide. He surprised himself with that outburst. Shana was moved for a moment, when she thought he was about to attack her, but when he didn’t, she got up. “Please pick up this mess, Simon. I will not mind reporting you for it.” She left the newsroom for a breather. Simon rushed to pick everything up before anybody else came in and wondered what happened, but a lot of Shana’s words cut him for a moment. She’s lying. Girls lie, he reminded himself as he picked things up from the floor. But, he wasn’t going to beg her to go out with him. She declined. Okay, whatever. He’d have been doing her a favor.
Sometimes, he thought about her words, though. Blushing because she was infuriated by him… That made sense after a while, especially when he conflated her with the void, who he knew never loved him. He and Shana were prom king and queen, but she declined dancing with him and said on the microphone, “We all know this is Grace Monroe’s sloppy seconds.” There was an uproar of laughter in his mind. 
Actually, only a few people laughed. Some looked shocked and horrified that Shana would make fun of who they believed to be an abuse survivor. Shana shrugged her shoulders like Kanye and doubled down, “You all know good and well that Grace never harmed a split ended hair on this boy’s head! She was as obsessed with him as he was with her. You’re all wild to go along with that narrative. You would never believe all that mess about a white girl..” The dean snatched the microphone from her and gave her some warning that the other students couldn’t hear. Simon was livid. He waited for her outside.
“Shana,” he said. Shana yelped in fear whenever she saw him at her car, then reached into her clutch for a weapon. She didn’t have much, but she did have a nail file. Whenever he came near her, she stuck him in the neck with it and he groaned. She set off her car alarm trying to get inside of the car before deactivating it and Simon just smiled at her as she did. Shana was driving and crying and that was the last time that Simon saw her. 
He was questioned about assaulting her in the parking lot, but informed them that he only wanted to talk to her about what she had said in front of everyone and that she actually assaulted him. Now… once, people might believe, and people might even have believed that Shana was entirely capable of it. But, most of the kids and staff knew that Shana was a mean girl, but never violent. The only physical exchanges she had were the ones with Grace Monroe and now Simon Laurent. She finished out the end of school how Grace had finished her junior year. Simon finished it out with people beginning to doubt some of his stories about Grace. But, that didn’t matter! 
He hated that school, those rich kids, the system that worked for them but made him work for it. He was on his way to becoming better than all of that. He still wanted to make time for his art - writing, photography, creating figures and scenes… but he had gotten really into the robotics program whenever he was in engineering and decided that was what he was going to focus his education on. MIT was his first choice and he had been accepted by the end of junior year. He got his small living space as close as he could, since he prepared on spending the bulk of his time enrolled. He knew that he was destined for greatness. 
But, sometimes, his social media would think he needed to see something, like today, when he opened a video of Grace, playing a piano at wherever the undisclosed facility she had been at was, singing something captioned as “Stingray,” and looking… beautiful. He watched it more times than he would ever admit. 
He opened his own treasure chest and pulled out images of her, them… things that he had made and just didn’t have the strength to destroy when he purged the void. He picked up a photo from the pumpkin patch, when they were 14. She had her tongue stuck out at him and he was blushing. It was one of his favorite photos of them. 
“You should take every photo of me, from now on!” She said, looking at her ones on her page that had gotten her the deal. “You always seem to make me look my absolute best in every photo you take of me. Like, you have a real eye for it.”
“I have an eye for you,” he corrected. “Two…” He blushed a lot. He hadn’t meant to say THAT.
“You’ve got eyes for me, Simon?” she teased, making him blush more and his heart rate speed up. And in the midst of him trying to collect himself, she grabbed on to him, pulled him into a hug and took another of her many selfies. She groaned, “I just can’t make any photos look as good as you can… but you’re adorable in this,” she said and showed it to him. “I’m putting this on my Christmas cards this year.” 
She didn’t lie about that. He tossed it back into the box and picked up the torn out foreword that she had written for his fantasy novel. He went through the entire box before locking it back up and throwing it into the trunk of his car. One day, he was going to find the strength to throw it in a river or burn it, or something. It’s just that… she was his entire world… for half of his life…
“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing,” he heard Shana’s voice say… or was it Grace’s voice? He was starting to forget it. Like… of course he knew what it sounded like, but his head couldn’t place it in the chorus of girls’ voices that haunted him: his sister, his mother, the void, Shana… Shana was interchangeable with the void. His brain kept trying to tie them together and perhaps that was why her words affected him. Or maybe it was because they sounded so true, when he knew that they couldn’t be. The Void betrayed him. He counterattacked. “Getting too close to you really stung me.” He heard her singing. Simon bit his lip, picked up his phone and took a deep breath before liking the Stingray post.
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skamamoroma · 5 years ago
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I was asked by a few anons to make a post about the negativity etc so I hope this is what you were after.
Twitter is absolutely a cess pit of misery which is why I only have one for very specific interests (like musical theatre news) and that’s is absolutely it. So I can’t say I know anything that goes on there especially related to Skam.
That said, there is a fundemental difference between criticism and bullying and raising criticism and harassing.
Critiquing something and raising that critique is part of human nature. It is part of the experience of any form of media or fiction or consumed content. It’s valid and useful and personal and entirely the point and it has been that way since time began. Hell, back in the day people would pelt with rotten fruit if they didn’t like something - maybe that is the new Twitter?!
Bullying and harassment are inexcusable. Especially when that is fuelled by a FICTIONAL TV SHOW. Christ alive.
Writers and show runners and people involved in the creation of content should be able to withstand criticism. It is helpful if that criticism is constructive. If creators cannot respond to criticism then they misunderstood that their content was to be consumed and responded to and that this response will be reflective and the masses will tell you if they like it or not.
They are not expected to be personally attacked, bullied, harassed, hounded or bombarded with hatred. That should not be part of the experience of being a created of content or a creative mind involved in a show.
If someone has acted inappropriately or has behaved in a way which is wrong or deserves punishment in the media then this should follow - see the many many many examples of treatment of actors/actresses over the years which is unacceptable. Most people responsible have got away with it and I hope that this is changing for the better.
But, it is the fault of social media that information is so readily available... and people act on knee jerk reactions. I saw what Winona said in her interview and it is a fact that many women in the industry feel corralled and forced to do things under pressure due to feeling they have no choice or won’t get anymore work etc. That IS a legitimate problem. I have friends in the industry and they confirm this to me.
But before people respond, I think it’s always important to recognise that we weren’t there. You aren’t that individual. Winona explained that while it was difficult for her for personal reasons, she bargained for what she felt comfortable with as an individual and was proud of herself in the end for getting over a personal fear. We may not be able to understand but that’s because it was Winona’s experience and choice. To then suggest that because of those words, that she was mistreated is a really dangerous leap to make. Many actors have to do things they feel a little unusual doing because it’s not at all part of their normal lives like nudity or working at height or working with specific animals or being intimate with someone etc. There’s a difference between accepting a job as an actor knowing that this is part of this job and knowing it’s a personal hurdle to leap and having a director force you into doing something you feel deeply uncomfortable with because it’s inappropriate. There are multiple examples across the broadcasting world where actors have been forced into situations which are damaging to them and that’s absolutely unacceptable.
I didn’t comment on the Winona thing because I wasn’t there. She was quite happy to discuss it and bring it up and said she felt pride in the end. She took the role based off the scripts. She felt able to ask for amendments and she was listened to and some changes were made.
It’s a real shame that people perhaps took that to David et al in the way they did. I have criticised some of David’s actions before from my own blog mainly in terms of a few comments he made and a couple of approaches he had but good god the man adores these actors and is a thoughtful, passionate creator who takes care to nurture his talent. That much is obvious. Does that mean people are not capable of doing things that are inappropriate, no, but that’s the same for any human being. Jumping the gun and presuming when you have zero information is exceptionally damaging and wrong. The protection of young women in the broadcasting world is very important and it would be completely ok for people to support Winona and ask “are you ok about it?” to make sure she wasn’t mistreated but the knee jerk response to attack is just so unhelpful and unfair to all concerned.
I’m all for criticism. It’s a healthy thing. It’s normal and it should be expected by any show runner the same way that praise and acclaim should be when something works. But please, folks, please refrain from that turning into bullying and harassment because you become the problem then... and people get hurt.
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autumnpleaves · 4 years ago
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My friend is homophobic and Im not out to her yet. Other than that, she’s really awesome. What do I do? Am I supposed to stop being her friend??? -C
*stunned silence* 
*sudden release of air* 
Aight, C. You’re in some deep, deep, deep snow right now- 
Let’s see.
First step, do you know where this belief comes from?
Is it like from her parents, religious beliefs, the internet, social media, something? At all? Like coz as humans that socialize and interact, we are constantly being influenced without us knowing, and maybe through understanding the root of your friend’s homophobia. 
This is important, because well, assuming because you say that she’s *really* awesome, that means this friend means *kinda* a lot to you. So in trying to *salvage* this relationship, let’s say you try to reason with your friend. 
Second step, so- you know where the idea came from, what now? 
Well if it’s a religious thing, then that might be a little complicated. As a religious person myself, I kind of understand where people like this might come from. But as we all should remember that the main core and center of say like Christianity, or something (sorry, I can also speak for the Christianity peeps) should be Love and Caring. 
If it’s a family thing, that would be also- complicated. (Realizing this, is really down-heartening honestly, homophobia in general is just... complicated). Usually, people who’s views are affected by like family beliefs would hold on to that belief really tight, like... especially if they are influenced from a really young age. But I do believe that if your friend is willing to keep an open mind, anything is possible. 
Do keep in mind though, that if you want to confront this friend, remain calm. 
Usually, homophobia is caused by lack of information/knowledge on the topic, and so it’s usually surrounded by stereotypes from like media or family. You could try educating yourself on some FAQs and what not. It’s easy to find them online. 
There is a possibility that your friend simply has not have a friend that is part of the LGBTQIAP+ community, and just simply doesn’t understand how a relationship between the same sex or gender might work. That is valid, and remember, that if you do try to challenge this view, it’s not going to change overnight. 
They might be suppressing their own identity, and is simply oppressed and hides in the closet of internal homophobia (not always true, but likely most of the time). 
Maybe try educating them, gently and with compassion. 
No one likes a lecture, just ~maybe~ casually say something like... “Hey, have you ever noticed like children with two moms/dads are as happy as we are-” OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT- Okay, I’m not an expert at imaginary conversations. I do think that maybe if y’all are in like a conservative area, not enough *exposure* to these things may induce beliefs like “They’re disgusting, sinful, etc. etc.”.  
There are like many really interesting and helpful facts out there, such as like- 
Did you know that by normalizing same sex marriages, it can actually save taxpayers money and could boost the economy? Coz like weddings, and this is not a secret, can be like really expensive and by normalizing it or at the very least, like legalizing it would boost the economy and tax and stuff, and would support more jobs for the people out there! So in like a round about way kind of route, it helps :D 
(Lemme know if this is like wrong or whatever, I tried to do my proper research- I’ll cite my sources if you wanna read more) 
Another fact, is that most homosexual relationships are *obviously* not that different from heterosexual ones. Both of those relationships seek long lasting and happy relationships, and well if homosexuals find happiness, joy, and love in another homosexual, then shouldn’t that be a good thing and a celebrated thing? 
Why is marriage a really important thing, you ask? Well from the resources I have collected and my own opinions and thoughts... 
Marriage is essentially kind of like having like a ‘privelage card’ I guess you can say that? I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but from what I read it allows like economic and social support to the couples (from the government?). 
*MOST* married people experience better physical and mental health. Marriage in most places allow couples the tools and the security to build a life together, protect their families, and (according to source) state and federal marriage laws provide a safety net of over 1200 *LEGAL and ECONOMIC PROTECTION* for married couples and their children. 
This is important when visiting the spouse in the hospital, transferring property, and a whole lotta legal stuff that you can read more about online :)  
“Why is this going all the way to marriage? Literally all I asked is about whether or not I should stay friends with this person. :|”
You’re right, but I can’t resist ;) 
XDDD
I’m just giving resources and maybe facts and statistics to back it up, if your friend is that type of person. (Unless it’s a more religious thing, then that’s going to be hard, and you might want to like... I wouldn’t say blackmail? But like read up on your friend’s religion (if she has one) online and how or what the religion says about such topics. (Yes, I am well aware there are *LOADS* online going the opposite way [I am disappointed to see it, but *shrugs*] find the ones where they *DO* support LGBTQIAP+ folks :)) ) 
I’m sorry that this is kinda long, and all. I just hope everything goes well. 
Just a quick side note-
If you feel unsafe or like doubtful on whether or not you should come out to someone (your friend in this context-) I think it’s best you Don’t. 
I’m not saying you should never, but your friend could out you and blackmail or bully you, and that is not fun. 
Especially since you know that she is has homophobic ideas, I advise you not to touch that coming out closet yet. Feels annoying and sad, I get it. But it’s unsafe and I don’t think it’ll end well. 
If after all this, your friend still doesn’t understand or can’t change her ideas (give it a few days, really. Nothing, especially personalities, ideas, nor beliefs, could change overnight) 
Then the best way to do it, is end that friendship over there. She’s a great friend, but being a homophobe, which clearly and obviously concerns your identity as well, is not a nice thing. You’ll constantly feel pressured and I think eventually, in a friendship where you can’t be honest or anything with your friend, it’s not going to work out for long and you’re going to ruin your mental health :) 
I hope this helps, canon. I really hope it does. And best of luck and wishes to you. Feel free to reach out for more info/advice or anything at all. I’ll do my best to help ^-^
Sources
https://metro.co.uk/2019/11/28/how-to-deal-with-a-homophobic-friend-11233282/
https://family.lovetoknow.com/how-deal-being-homophobic-family
http://www.whymarriagematters.org/pages/just-the-facts-q-and-a
https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/sexual-orientation/sexual-orientation/what-homophobia
https://medium.com/james-finn/how-to-help-a-friend-recover-from-homophobic-self-loathing-79b653925e6
https://www.apa.org/topics/divorce/same-sex-marriage
https://www.aljazeera.com/ajimpact/economic-impact-sex-marriage-190625232031095.html
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big-bad-ulf · 4 years ago
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The Prodigal Wolf Returns || Ulfric & Winn
Timing: Midday, Thursday 4th of June  Parties: @packsbeforesnacks, @big-bad-ulf Summary: Ulfric meets with Winn to discuss what drove him out of town, and consider their next moves.  Warnings: Mentions of assisted suicide, depression, and grief.
The clearing in the woods was quiet, remote, and neutral. Somewhere they could both feel at home, but that neither could claim ownership of. Hearing footsteps approaching, Ulfric dropped the cigarette stub between his fingers, stamping it out into the leaf litter below to conceal most of the evidence of the bad habit he’d picked up again after Celeste’s passing, though the smoke still lingered accusingly. “I suppose thanks are in order, for coming all the way out here,” he greeted Winn stoically, before finally turning to face the returned wolf. “As you’re aware, I’m not the one who you need to explain your actions to.” He hoped it was apparent he meant Layla and Ariana, but the young man didn’t have the best track record thinking things through to their logical conclusion. “But I’d like one, because as it stands I can’t imagine a scenario in which ‘sparring’ with a tiny human girl while in wolf form was necessary? Nor was fleeing town when you knew others of your kind were in danger.” The older werewolf’s tone was tired, weighed down by the collective suffering of White Crest’s pack over the last few weeks, but an anger borne of disappointment simmered beneath the weariness. 
Winn had been dreadin’ this conversation since he’d figured out everyone thought he’d skipped town. Ulfric was… intimidating, to say the absolute least. Winn could handle teenagers. He could handle folks in his own (relative) age group. And Simon was, well, kind, in a way that he wasn’t sure Ulfric was. But part of the problem was that he didn’t know Ulfric. Didn’t know most of the wolves, really, all friendliness aside. So, worst-case scenario, Ulfirc hated him. Best case scenario, Ulfric thought he was an idiot. As he entered the clearing, smoke tickled his nose. The Full Moon was on them and Winn was pretty sure he’d have smelled it even if Ulfric hadn’t just been smoking, but he stowed the frown. It wasn’t his place to judge someone’s habits; he’d had bad habits of his own. Still had some. “I appreciate it,” Winn said, “but it’s unnecessary. I should thank you, for bein’ willing to hear me out.” He leaned against a tree, scrubbing at his eyes. Reconciling with his father and (part of) his former pack hadn’t helped his sleep, much as he wanted it to and, with Natalia out of town, he was running low on aram. “Talked to both of them. Only one left that knew, I think, is you.”
He weighed what he knew about Blanche in his mind, what he knew about Ulfric, and his newfound fondness for the truth. “Blanche is… like a sister, to me. She’s a trouble magnet. If there’s supernatural nonsense goin’ on in White Crest, I head her way. ‘Cause chances are, if she isn’t already involved, she will be in, like, an hour. I know it was stupid, thought I had better control than I did. After I got a hold of myself, I dipped, for just a few minutes. Came back, told Blanche that I was leavin’ to take care of some things, left a note somewhere I thought she’d find it. Phone had been dead before that, and I figured if she told folks I was gone, they’d know that I’d be back soon and couldn’t really make a twelve-hour drive shorter.” Winn sighed. “That’s usually the part of the story where folks have questions, so hit me. Oh, right. Social media. A shirtless photo of mine got flagged and, since I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t contest the deactivation. That one was just coincidence. Lady Luck wasn’t in my favor.”
“It was stupid,” Ulfric confirmed when Winn was through with his explanation. He crossed his arms and paced in a tight, restless pattern as he weighed the other wolf’s actions, to decide what needed asking. It wasn’t like he could pass any judgment in an official sense, it would be up to Layla and Ariana and any of the other wolves who felt slighted to decide for themselves how they felt and how they wanted to interact with him on a personal level. But as a more experienced wolf, he felt obligated to address the aspects of Winn’s behavior that had the potential to harm the entire pack, or even their entire species. “I understand this girl means something to you, but we don’t need to be teaching more humans how to fight us.” Not that it was likely a human of average strength would stand much of a chance, even with whatever ‘mind powers’ Blanche supposedly possessed, but that was beside the point, their weaknesses were meant to stay between them. “Learning that would only help her against our kind, and if you’re worried any one of us is a threat to her that’s something that can be dealt with internally… It’s the fact you don’t seem to know your limits that troubles me most, though.”
Ulfric stopped and stood his ground as he came to that conclusion, looking over Winn appraisingly as he remembered the young wolf bragging about having killed a hunter. He’d chalked it up to mostly harmless arrogance at the time, but when he later explained he hadn’t done it on purpose that should’ve raised more red flags than it had. “You don’t seem like you’re that new to this. You should have a better grasp of how much control you do or don’t have. So, I suppose my questions are, do you know what pushed you over the edge? What do you plan to do to ensure this doesn’t happen again?”
Winn tried not to bristle at the half-accusation, pushing himself off the tree and walking towards Ulfric as, hopefully, non-threateningly as possible. “With all due respect, I never said that I was trainin’ her to take out wolves,” he said. And he hadn’t been! Werewolves were just big and so were, what, half of the things B would run into? “She only knows the bare minimum, assumin’ she hasn’t talked to Kaden ‘bout his other job. Ain’t hard for a human to try silver, given only every story about us tends to revolve ‘round that fact.” He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. “But we can argue ‘bout Blanche later, it’s not like I’ll be sparrin’ with her in wolf form again.”
“It worries me, too. ‘Cause I’ve…” he paused, looking up into the canopy to choose his words carefully. “Let me backtrack. You don’t know much about me, and it might be… helpful. Since you’re the wolf ‘round here with the most experience…” Now, Winn was pacing. “I was turned almost eight years ago. The only turned wolf in a pack of, uh, werewolf fraternity brothers, down south. They guided me through my first dozen shifts, taught me how to be calm. So, believe me when I say: I have plenty of control, ‘specially for not havin’ been a wolf all my life. And don’t get your britches in a bunch, I know that sounds like bullshit, right now.” Winn ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the conclusions he was beginning to draw about his time ‘changed.’ “I said I accidentally killed a Hunter… well, that was half-true. The accident was my own — I was sleepin’ with a Hunter, didn’t know he was a Hunter. The killing was on purpose. Self-defense, when he abused my trust, tried to go after my pack.
“After that, I was in… a dark place. That would’a been late 2015. Next thing I remember, I was in Europe, staggering in my human form out of the woods in early 2018. Thought, until recently, I’d spent a year or two in and out of my wolf form… but, I’m startin’ to question that. Couple theories’ve been tossed around, maybe it isn’t true. But when I… attacked B, it felt different. On a Moon, when I let the wolf come to the forefront… even when I was tryin’ to keep us separate, I still knew what was goin’ on. But with B, I don’t remember anything between getting thrown into a tree and pullin’ myself back from the brink. It was, well, dissociative is maybe the closest way to say it. I was there, and then I wasn’t. I’ve never lost control like that. Not even, y’know, when I was still new at this. It’s… it’s like hittin’ that tree pulled something out of me, something from under my conscious. I— Have you ever heard of anything like that? Where a wolf just… wasn’t himself, or even his wolf self? Even if it had been, say, Ariana, I don’t think it would’ve changed it. I still think that… part of me would want to attack everything.”
“There’s no need for that if you’re not going to do it again.” Ulfric agreed with Winn’s statement about Blanche. Truthfully, he did not want to be having this argument in the first place. A good old-fashioned brawl could be cathartic but having to play the role of stern lecturer just made feel weary, worn-out, and old. Running wild together, celebrating a successful hunt, sharing tales of old legends and recent exploits, those were the things he’d looked forward to about being a part of a pack again. Having to step up and confront things that put them in jeopardy was a responsibility that came with that privilege, but not one he enjoyed or hoped to have to take up often.
The older werewolf couldn’t contain a small grimace of disgust upon hearing Winn’s story. The chance that they might be a hunter was one of the many reasons it was a bad idea to get involved that way with humans, but he didn’t bother to voice his opinion on that. The man was an adult capable of making his own choices and he’d also spent a lot of his life as a human, so it was easy to see where that mistake had come from. Besides, it seemed he’d more than learned his lesson on that front.
“I’m sorry that you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to come back from a betrayal like that.” Ulfric replied at last, because the tale was tragic, if difficult for him to relate to on a personal level. “I haven’t heard of wolves entering an abnormal state like that,” Of course, his own ‘wolf self’ was similar in some ways to what Winn had described, an entirely animalistic being, but even then it retained the animal instinct not to attack its own kind without severe provocation and the risk of that side of himself emerging outside of a full moon was very low. “It seems the answers may lie in what happened in those lost years. What are the theories?” Staying transformed for the better part of years… Was such a thing truly possible? Ulfric could’ve almost been jealous of Winn for having that freedom from morals and responsibilities of the human world for so long, if the suffering it was causing him now wasn’t so apparent.
“Have you tried… it could be possible, or so I’ve heard, to bring some memories back through mystical means.” He suggested hesitantly. “I don’t like getting involved with such things, but you can’t just… go on the way you are, not without having to isolate yourself.” And that was the last thing he wanted for any of his kind, regardless of whether he held them in high regard or not. “If something were to bring on this feral state in front of a crowd that would mean disaster for all of us. And I’m sure you know that,” He leveled the younger wolf with a hard-nosed look. “Even if some of your actions suggest a distinct lack of judgment of the more mundane variety.”   
“I— Thanks.” Winn frowned, stopping his pacing as Ulfric spoke. “I have a… friend, who looked into some, uh, wolf causes. Didn’t find much, some reports of wolves stayin’ transformed who went… feral, who couldn’t change back into their human form.” What Rio had told him had scared him, but it hadn’t felt, well… correct. It seemed like even those wolves had the sense to not attack other wolves, that they retained some of their humanity, even if they became more animal than human. ‘Course, many of them didn’t live to tell their tale, and the records that Rio had found could only tell them so much. Some had been written by Hunters, others written by a wolf who had to put one of his own down. But Winn had come back, which seemed to be the wrinkle. No Hunter had ever tried to bring a wolf back to themselves, but not even a packmate could. So, if Winn had been transformed, how could he have come back?
“Given I’m back, though, my friend and I ruled that out. ‘Specially for a bitten wolf to come back from bein’ feral? Seemed unlikely. Not when there was another explanation. Which is, um…” Alright, okay. He could admit this aloud. “My dad is a huxian. He thinks it might be mystical, yeah. Somethin’ taken from me, or somethin’ I gave up.”
He swallowed, mouth dry. “I’m still tryin’ other avenues. R— My friend is lookin’ into… side-effects of wolfsbane. What shit street wolfsbane might get spiked with. I—” Winn scratched at his arms, almost wishin’ that he was wearin’ a shirt. “I took wolfsbane for months, after I killed that Hunter. Blamed myself for what happened to the pack. And I guess I… stopped.” He looked up into the canopy. “But you’re right. I need to figure out my shit, so I don’t put us all at risk. And, short of goin’ back on the wolfsbane — which I’m not gonna do — we really don’t have any leads. If there’s… a part of me, that’s missin’, then I don’t want to go on like this. I can’t. Even if…” Well, there was always this part. Winn looked back down at Ulfric, mouth set in a hard line. “Don’t… I don’t want your pity. This isn’t y’all’s problem, but there’s… well, if I’m missin’ two years, there’s a chance that…” He coughed. 
“There’s this Hunter I know. Luke mentioned him at the meeting. He… If I did somethin’ bad, hurt an innocent life, he’s the one I trust to… put an end to me. But I don’t want him knowin’ about what happened with B, and— I don’t know what could happen, if I get those memories back. No one I’ve talked to so far does. But if he’s… if I’m different, if I try to hurt someone, I need y’all to be willin’ to stop me. If that happens… As the person I am now, I want you… to take me down. If you can’t kill me, let me rot. If I can’t control myself, I am… I am not more important than all of you.” His voice was hoarse, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember crying this much in a very long time, but he needed to be firm. “Promise me. Please. I’m sorry, so sorry, to put that burden on you.” He held out his hand, for the other wolf to take, to seal the pact. “But it has to be done.”
As Winn’s explanation continued, it became more and more clear to Ulfric that his actions couldn’t be explained away by stupidity or cowardice. That was a shame really, both of those causes would’ve been much easier to deal with than this mystery of missing memory. Everything Winn said seemed to introduce a new piece to the puzzle (Huxians, wolfsbane, and of course, the seemingly inescapable interference of hunters), but it was unclear how they whole fit together or how much of a threat would be revealed when the big picture came together. When the young wolf came to the end of his speech and what he was asking him to do sunk in, Ulfric’s blood ran cold. Protecting the pack was paramount, but the thought of killing another wolf was profane, it would be the ultimate sacrilege towards the gift his ancestors had bestowed upon him. 
“I’m not going to sit idly by and let you harm other members of the pack, of that you can be certain,” he answered carefully, considering his options. If Winn were to slip into a permanent state of mindless, unbridled aggression, the usual ‘last resort’ of exile would do little to keep him from returning and causing havoc in their territory. Caging was another possibility, but he knew if their circumstances were reversed, he’d prefer a quick death over a life spent in chains, and it seemed the young man would as well. And finally, allowing hunters to deal with him in that state would only further inflame their hatred towards his kind, along with being plain undignified. “If your continued existence poses a threat to their survival, I promise you, I’ll do what needs to be done.” Ulfric accepted after a long moment’s deliberation, giving Winn’s hand a firm, resolute shake, though the clamminess of his palm betrayed his instinctual, visceral reaction against the plan. “Let’s not let it come to that though,” He added, more of an instruction than a hope. “I’ve had my fill of death for the time being.” 
““Thank you,” Winn said, quietly. “But… Agreed. Don’t want it to come to that.” It wasn’t that Winn hadn’t considered his death before. Hell, after what had happened with his old pack, there had been times where he’d… well, where he’d really considered dying. Winn liked to think he was better, now. If not totally well-adjusted, at least pretty solid on the ‘me dying wouldn’t fix the issue’ mantra. Counseling helped that, and learning about counseling only reinforced it. Which is part of why he knew: “I need those memories back, though. Even if it hurts, or if there’s… a reason I buried them. Now that I know they might not be there, it’s like… it’s like I can feel the space where they used to be. They’re a blindspot, sure, but more than that they’re… part of me. I can’t…” He sighed, sitting down on the forest floor and breathing in the woods for a moment before continuing. “As I am now, I can’t imagine what reason I could have had to bury them or… take them? I don’t know anybody who’d have the answers. Plus, there’s all the shit with Luke, and what happened with Ari, and… Fuck, man, I haven’t even asked you how you’re doing. I… I mean, I didn’t know Celeste, but I talked to Ari some, and… I know it’s a cheap question, but are you okay, Ulfric?”
“I think I can understand that. Why you’d want them back.” Ulfric assured him. He was familiar with having gaps in his memory, though he’d never had much choice in the matter. Berserkers had lost the ability to remember most of their actions while transformed centuries ago, and their intentions behind that, if there were any, were shrouded in mystery and myth. He did have a choice, though, between taking the easy way out and walking away from the carnage he’d caused while in wolf form and reconstructing what happened during that time as best he could. Ever since his ill-thought-out vengeance against the hunters who took his younger siblings, he’d chosen to do the latter. Chosen to look at the carnage and accept why it had happened, and that it was a part of him.
 “What we do is what we are,” he pondered aloud, before directing his attention back on Winn more fully. “I respect your choice and wish you luck. You can count on me for… whatever it is you think I can provide.” Which wasn’t much, given his lack of expertise in the realm of the magical. He couldn’t even truthfully say he’d provide friendly support, because he was still too wary of the young wolf and the potential danger he posed to the pack as a whole to consider him a friend. An alliance was clearly in both their best interests though, so Ulfric refrained from repeating his earlier comments about not wanting any help from him when he asked how he was. “I’ll survive, so will you,” he stated simply and firmly instead, almost ordering the fates to make it so. “Any other option doesn’t bear thinking about.” The older wolf turned briskly and took off into the trees. Action was required of both of them, if the White Crest pack was ever going to be able to consider itself safe. They could spare no more time for conjecture and contemplation.
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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years ago
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A Little Piece Of Heaven (part one)
[Tour!verse]
TW: Surprisingly not many...I guess mockery of religion, specifically Christianity and anything in that branch. Very minor mentions of self harm (like one time- if you blink you’ll miss it). But mainly this fic is just psychological.
———————
Lord of The Flies
Let’s get something clear really quickly: Joan Meutas was not religious. Did she used to be? Unfortunately, yes, but after seeing the world for what it really was, after getting an axe to her vagina from her beloved husband, she has realized that there was no merciful God who would save lost souls. It was all a hoax by crazy old folk from wherever Jerusalem was to herd people into one belief, thinking that it may make them more humane and friendly. But religion has done more harm than good- Christianity damns all non CIS heterosexuals to hell, Jews got murdered by the thousands, that one branch literally won’t eat anything besides fucking grain or some shit, Catholics are just rude as all hell, those fasting things literally cause people to STARVE TO DEATH, and for what? To appease some higher being? Do they truly think they will be saved? If God was so merciful and wonderful and kindhearted, why would he make things like murder and cancer and rape and torture?
Joan even once heard that the Bible stated that when a woman was on her period she had to leave her village and wasn’t allowed to come back UNLESS she had a turtle dove. She’s never read the Good Book before, so she doesn’t know if that was true or not, but it doesn’t sound unlikely given all the stupid rules she’s heard about.
So, no, Joan was not religious.
It’s strange, she thinks, how offended people get when she says it or simply hints at it. Their eyes will practically bug out of their skull and they probably pray for her “lost soul”, maybe even do that weird cross gesture on their chest when they think she isn’t looking. They look at her as if she was actually a demon spy loosed from hell and not just someone who has enough common sense to realize that an “all powerful father” was complete and utter bullshit.
That’s the thing- it’s like the word “atheist” was purposely made to seem like the most evil string of letters to ever be created. You know the words- those synonyms that just sound much worse than the actual root phrase (molest, slaughter, moist). Atheist just has this dark shade to it. Or so religious people say.
But enough of that! There’s a reason why such a taboo subject is being brought up.
Joan was going to contact Death.
As they say, desperate times calls for desperate measures. And desperate Joan was.
You see, her queen- Jane Seymour- used to be quite the woman. Sharp, beautiful, powerful, but also warm behind the closed court doors. Joan was very lucky to see this side of her as her youngest lady in waiting, often getting called gentle pet names and sometimes pats on her head if she was particularly lucky that day. As a touch-starved orphan servant, this was like a pot of gold to Joan- love and affection is something she’s craved long before reincarnation in the modern world. And, speaking of the resurrection, Joan thought she would get even more of Jane’s “Mum Treatment” since they had more time on their hands, but she was very, very wrong.
Jane...Jane was different. She changed. No longer was she the motherly, caring, strong woman from the past, but instead coming back as some reduced version of herself- slightly younger (24, 25, maybe even 23), more awkward and timid, and much less maternal. The way she now looked at Joan wasn’t with compassion, rather...plain curiosity, sometimes even aversion. Her memory of her young lady in waiting has waned- it was as if she didn’t remember that Joan had been at her side the whole time when she was bedridden after giving birth to Edward! Like she couldn’t conjure up the remembrance of a teenager literally watching her rot away and slowly die for days!
To say the least, Joan was not happy. Add in trauma, insomnia, hate on social media, constant stress and pressure from her profession, and a severe lack of friends and you can probably see why Joan was going to such extreme measures.
Now, she knew about the stories. She’s read The Monkey’s Paw. She knows about the consequences of one’s actions. Joan wasn’t going into this completely stupid- have some faith, will you?
Gambling with Death was a risk. A huge risk that could very well end with her soul being ripped out of her mouth or her flesh being worn by a supernatural being that then goes on to commit atrocities under her identity. And not only was it a massive risk to take, it was also very, very stupid.
If I have to spell it out for you, listen closely: Death knows things. A lot of things. They don’t call him the “Lord of The Flies” for nothing. Which is why he loves to play games for those desperate enough to contact him because he knows he is much smarter than whatever pathetic, miserable piece of useless garbage comes clawing at a mirror, begging him to reveal himself. And unless you have every secret of the universe, you’re probably going to get ass-blasted back to Tuesday.
Oh, what am I saying? You won’t get a second chance.
You’ll be long gone by then.
And whatever state the cops find your body in the next morning depends on whatever mood the beast was in.
However, in Joan’s case here, she is desperate and stupid enough to take the risk. In her eyes, she doesn’t have much to live for. She’s a slave to SIX- day and night she’s working endlessly over musical paperwork and the same songs over and over and OVER again. It doesn’t help that she isn’t the closest to the rest of the cast and is often left alone when everyone else goes out and has fun. The scars on her wrists are evident of how many nights she’s been alone.
Without Jane, she has nothing to live for. She needed her.
And that’s exactly why she was sitting on the floor in front of a mirror propped against the wall in the dark theater surrounded by candles and a semicircle of salt.
Joan has done a lot of studying up to this point. She knows she has everything correctly, now she just has to get Death to appear...and hope he doesn’t immediately pull her small intestines out from her throat for bothering him.
Joan stares into the mirror as hard as she can, closes her eyes, then counted to ten. Her eyelids lingered shut for longer than she would like to admit after she hit the number one, but she eventually pried them open.
It was not her reflection staring back at her.
To be honest, Joan wasn’t exactly sure of what she was expecting to see. Some parts of her believed nothing would happen, other parts convinced itself that a grim reaper-like figure or a horned, goat-legged demon would be kneeling on the other side of the glass wielding a scythe or pitchfork. However, a suit-wearing young man was not really something that crossed her mind in her theories.
If Joan wasn’t a lesbian, she might have found him attractive, but he definitely was at a straight woman’s perspective. Perfect smile, the most amazing cheekbone structure, unflawed olive skin, neatly combed brown-blonde hair, a broad chest, phenomenal shape- if it weren’t for his yellow eyes with slit pupils, he might have been the perfect lady’s man (although, knowing straight women, they probably wouldn’t care for his demon eyes- after all, you don’t need to see someone’s peepers to suck cock!).
Joan sat completely bewildered, all of her confidence draining and being replaced with dread that drenches her like a thick, dark oil spill. She can feel her hands, which are lying in her lap, starting to tremble and clenching her fingers doesn’t help at all. The ability to form a coherent sentence slips from her mind, so Death speaks first.
“Hello, Joan Meutas.”
This guy is the real deal. He pronounced her last name correctly!
Joan opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water and Death is thoroughly amused by her sardine impression. He watches her through the glass, waiting patiently for her to learn how to enunciate again.
“H-h-hello-”
“Yes, yes, h-h-hello to you to,” Death laughed. He wasn’t directly trying to be cruel, but Joan’s self esteem was far enough into the ground to hear his jibe as a mockery of her understanding of the English language. “If I let you speak the whole time we are going to get nowhere! Pull yourself together, kid. You should see the look on your face! You look like you just got caught making out with the family goat!”
Joan’s expression remained one of fright.
“What? Didn’t you own a goat back in- god, what year were you born? 1517 or 1525? Historians paint it as both! But I thought a family farm animal was the big rave back then! I apologize- I need to catch up on the modern slang. Say, would you be considered a ‘boomer’? Because I have been DYING to use that phrase on someone who contacts me. Could you imagine it?” He warps his voice into one of a pruny old woman, “‘I wish for great fortune!’ ‘Okay Boomer.’” Death bursts into fits of maniacal laughter that sounded as if a thousand lost souls were chortling together at once.
Joan is still silent, but during Death’s monologue she was able to wire her brain back to functionality. She sits up a little bit straighter and Death notices, so he containers himself instantly, also fixing his posture.
“Ready to talk now?” He asked.
“Yes.” Joan answered.
“Wonderful,” There’s a glint in his piercing yellow eyes, “What is it that you desire of me?”
Joan gathers up all her courage, sits up a little taller, and says, “I desire to challenge you to a game of question-and-answer.”
The glint flares into a blaze of confidence. If Joan stares hard enough, she swore she could almost see the fires of Hell burning in his eyes.
“How fun,” The words ooze out from Death’s pale lips, soaked in liquid menace. “Shall I go over the rules?”
Joan nodded. She knew them, she knew she did, but it would be good to hear them one last time.
“Very well,” Death said. He cleared his throat and began speaking as if he were reading off of a manual, “Death’s Gambit: A two-player game between the Lord of The Flies himself and a human. After being conjured- just gonna skip over that process, you’ve clearly got it down, kid- and initiating the game, both parties will have sixty-six minutes and six seconds to answer as many questions correctly as possible. Anything can be asked- trivia, personal inquiries, riddles, even dares, as long as the salt circle is not exited. The catch of the whole thing is this: The Prince of Darkness is obligated to tell the truth only if the human answers correctly to his question or does a requested dare or the human manages to stump him. However, if he answers correctly or the human answers incorrectly to HIS question, he may lie about whichever question he wants. The score will not be revealed until the very end once the time is over. If the human wins, the Keeper of Souls MUST grant any one wish they have. If He-Who-Lies wins, the human will be the victim to whatever losing punishment he comes up with. Remaining rules include: The salt circle cannot be left- you may find yourself no longer in your dimension-, the game cannot be quit until the time is over, items like watches or phones are not permitted to be used to look up answers or keep track of the time. Good luck and Beelzebub be with you.”
Despite knowing this all already, hearing it out loud, spoken by the beast himself, made it all hit home for Joan. She was really doing this; she was gambling with Death.
She had to be the stupidest fuck to ever grace God’s green earth.
“Are you ready to begin?” Death asked.
Joan took a deep death and answered, “Yes.”
A wicked smile curled on Death’s lips. The candles around Joan blaze.
“The game is on.”
A dark feeling weighed down on Joan after that was spoken. The air around her seemed to shift. Her gut was screaming at her to run away, to hide, to do something other than just sit there, but she couldn’t move. Not from fear, but from sheer will. She couldn’t be stupid. Who knows what lurked outside her thin salt circle....
As he usually did, Death initiates the game and asked his first question.
“What was the name of Catherine Parr’s true love?”
Like that, a cold stone drops deep into the pit of Joan’s stomach. Of all the questions she expected him to start off with, Tudor history was not one of them. It startles her, takes her by surprise, and she realizes very quickly that that’s exactly why Death asked it. He’s trying to disorientate her right off the bat and weaken her before she has the chance to get some points in.
She could not let that happen.
It’s just that- she didn’t know Tudor history outside of knowledge on her queen and whatever is said in the show. The others certainly did talk about their past lives, but Joan- she-
It stung, to say the least, when she realized that Death knew about her nonexistence friendships with the queens. And that he was targeting that.
“Thomas Seymour.” Joan finally said.
She was pretty sure that was the right answer...but not completely positive. And, because of that, her worried mind began to scream doubts inside of her brain.
Was that a trick question? He’s supposed to be the embodiment of pure evil- wouldn’t he think Henry is Parr’s true love? Was Henry the right answer?
“Your turn.” Death said, not reacting to Joan’s answer, which scares her even more.
“What’s- why did you choose to show up in that body?”
“Oooh, you’re starting with a personal inquiry!” Death said, laughing, “How fun! And I hope you’re not flattering yourself, Joan- I don’t look like this to make your pussy wet. Trust me, I could look way more attractive, but I know you.” Those three words slither into Joan’s ears and made her shudder. “Isn’t the whole point of being a lesbian to not be attracted to men?” Death laughed again, “But I look like this because I want to. I can take whatever shape I want! Remember that one time I was a snake? That was weird. Although, peeping at a naked chick was pretty damn fun. As a lesbian, you could probably appreciate the sight.”
For just a moment, the image of Death disappears, the mirror hazes to white, and Eve appears. Not the paintings you always see- THE Eve, bare breasts and vagina and all, and if Joan weren’t also asexual, her own genitals may have been burning with desperate pleasure.
“She was a sight.” Death said, returning to view. He chuckles, then immediately goes to his next question, “What was the exact height of Mount Everest in the year 1666?”
Joan’s heart just about stopped.
How in the holy hell was she supposed to know that? Then again, that was probably the point of asking such a thing.
“Three...hundred feet?” It came out as a question, but it’s taken as an answer and Death doesn’t react except for a slight twitch of his nose. “What...is the hardest piece to learn on the piano?”
“Liszt.” Death answered smoothly. “What animal can see the most amount of colors?”
“A...dolphin.” Joan physically cringed at her answer. “Who wrote Liszt?”
Is this what she was going to be doing the whole time? Asking the King of Hell fucking piano trivia?
“La Campanella.” Death once again answered perfectly. “What is the full chemical name for the antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication, Zoloft?”
Wasn’t that the medicine Joan was supposed to take for her anxiety?
“I- I don’t know.”
Death just hummed and awaited his next question. He didn’t laugh at her like she expected him to, which slightly lightened the blow of her stupidity.
“What’s my favorite song in SIX?”
“None of them. Why did you stop taking your Zoloft pills?”
The answer followed by such a question felt like Joan was just punched in the stomach with a spiked gauntlet. She swore she was winded by some unseen force (probably shock). Her breath hitched in her throat and she seemed like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“I-” She hunched her shoulders around her neck. Death is giving her a curious look, which was at least better than worry or concern. “They- they weren’t helping me...so I didn’t think there was a point taking them if they weren’t going to fix me.”
Death hummed once more, this time louder and more enthusiastic. He clearly liked her answer.
“Interesting,” He mused, then quiets himself for the next question.
“What’s standing behind me?”
Ever since the game began, Joan picked up on the presence of something staring at the back of her head. She could feel their eyes burning into her skull, sometimes even breathing on the back of her neck.
Death smiled. “See for yourself.”
Joan saw nothing in the reflection, just darkness beyond the candles and Death, and she was not about to go and look away. She was scared about what would happen if she turned her gaze away from the mirror for even a second.
When Death realized Joan wasn’t going to fall for his tricks that easily, he quirked an impressed eyebrow and moved on.
“Will you greet the worker who just came in?”
Joan glanced fearfully to the corner of the room. A figure is hunched there. The glow from the candles just barely licks at their claws.
“What was their name? Terrance?” Death said, “Doesn’t he work in lightning?”
“That’s not Terrance,” Joan murmured.
Death took it as an answer, it seems. He leans in close to the glass and when he whispers, his hushed tone is right at the back of Joan’s ear.
“You don’t want to know what he really is.”
Joan can feel a panic attack rising in her chest. Death is trying to scare her, stray her from answering coherently or correctly and get her to waste time by freaking out. She had to steer the game back into calmness.
Or, rather, however calm a Devil game could get.
“What do I have in my pocket right now?”
Death seems a little bothered that the cryptic theme was interrupted, but he gets over it.
“One black pen that’s almost out of ink, a granola bar you promised yourself you would eat, and a rosary you stole from Aragon.” He said, “Oh and, by the way, that isn’t going to protect you from me. So return it as soon as possible or Aragon is gonna be PISSED!” He laughed, imagining the storm the golden queen would cause if she caught Joan with such a precious belonging.
Joan swallowed thickly. She didn’t want to check her pockets. She didn’t want to know that he was right.
“What is the color of the sky?”
It seemed like an easy enough question, but Joan, believe it or not, knew better than to fall for such a simple trick. She wracked her brain for a moment, then answered, “Black.”
Death doesn’t react aside from licking over his dried lips. His tongue is too pointy. Joan moves on.
“Does Jane care about me?”
Honestly, the question kind of surprised her. It bubbled up from her throat from out of nowhere- yes, she had been wanting to ask it so badly, but she didn’t actually expect it to come out.
“Yes.” Says Death.
For a moment, joy bursts through Joan, but the metaphorical, celebratory confetti is sucked up by the vacuum of doubt.
Is he lying? Is he giving me false hope? Or is he telling the truth?
“What’s your blood type?” Death asked.
“A...AB.”
Like Joan fucking knew that.
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Blue.” Death smiled, “Because the blue sky would always remind you of opportunities for a better life.”
A shiver runs down Joan’s spine. She didn’t like how he knew that.
“What’s something that you can’t eat for lunch or dinner?”
He’s asking a riddle. Joan bit the inside of her cheek, thinking.
It couldn’t be a food. That was too easy.
Think, Joan, think!
“...Breakfast.”
Death chuckles. Joan doesn’t know what to think of that.
Twenty minutes pass by in a blur. Cold sweat soaks Joan’s brow, dripping down her face, but she’s too scared to move from her stiff position. Her back muscles hurt from sitting like a statue for so long- how the hell does Death look so relaxed? Then again, he doesn’t really have much to worry about.
He doesn’t have to worry about the possibility of being mutilated or dragged to Hell or that that figure in the corner has been getting closer and closer as the minutes passed by.
“Do you think every human deserves to live?”
The question came out of nowhere, really. Death had been asking mostly trivia up until that point. He tittered at Joan’s stunned expression, then raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Well?”
“No.”
Joan didn’t hesitate because she knew it was the truth. Not everyone deserved to live. Rapists, pedophiles, serial killers, racists, homophobes, terrorists, abusers- they didn’t deserve life. People like them deserved to die.
And anyone who doesn’t believe that is a fucking idiot.
“Do YOU think every human deserves to live?”
Death scoffed. “Of course not.” He peered at Joan, really analyzing her for the first time. His yellow slit eyes raked over the girl, making her feel uncomfortable and violated. “You know, you and I think a lot alike. Not many humans give ‘no’ as their answer. They think optimism will make them seem like a good person. It’s pathetic.”
Joan just nodded silently.
“Now...where were we? Oh, yes.” Death leaned in, “Which queen suffered the most?”
Joan furrowed her eyebrows. The whole point of the show was to not compare, especially traumas, but...
“Katherine Howard.”
Come on- clearly K Howard had it the worst. The girl was violated by four different men before she was an adult! None of the other five stories combined could possibly rank to the fifth queen’s suffering.
“Honestly, I think the same!” Death said, “I mean- what is UP with the whole ‘one of a kind, no category’ gimmick? How stupid! Last time I checked, being a victim of sexual abuse doesn’t make you ‘one of a kind.’ Why would you even think of it that way?“
Joan nodded slowly.
“I agree,” She said, “Um- here’s my next question: Is this question false?”
Death raised his eyebrows and cooed in obvious interest.
“True.” He said, smirking. “My turn. Do you resent the queens?”
Joan actually recoils. Death laughed.
“I-”
Did she? Did she resent the queens? Surely she didn’t... She couldn’t! The queens were perfect! How could anyone ever hate them?
“No.”
Death almost looks disappointed.
“What’s worse than death?”
“You’re living it.”
Cold sweat drips down Joan’s face. It stings her eyes and is salty on her tongue. She hears noises all around her, but doesn’t dare to look. She already knows “Terrance” is on his knees beside the salt circle and his leaning his face in right next to hers. She can smell the rot on him.
“Have you ever wanted to hurt the queens?”
Death’s questions are definitely ramping up in darkness. Was the time close to ending? Is that why he’s getting deeper?
Joan shut her eyes tightly for a moment, but opened them quickly when the fear of losing sight of Death nagged at the back of her mind. Before her, on the other side of the mirror, the being is waiting patiently, eagerly for her answer.
“Sometimes,” Joan breathed, “Yes.”
Death smiles a wicked smile.
“How interesting,” He purred, then gestured for Joan to ask her question.
“Does God exist?”
“Unfortunately.” Death groaned, then laughed. He inspected Joan again. “How would you hurt the queens?”
Joan felt her stomach ache. She didn’t like that question. She didn’t want to think about actually hurting the queens, even if she’s considered it one or two times before.
“I- I haven’t really given it any thought.” She answered, then quickly sputtered out her next question before Death could comment, “Does the Bible speak the truth?”
“Of course not.” Death said. “My next question is this: If I were to give you a task, would you do it?”
“Depends,” Joan said, “What would the task be?”
Death held up both arms in a shrugging motion. “I don’t know! Pick up my dry cleaning? It depends! Don’t put me on the spot like that!” He then laughed that horrible laugh again. Once he contains himself, he says, “Time is ticking. The game is almost over. I want to switch things up before we end. I have a dare for you.”
Joan nods.
“Stab yourself in the hand.”
That flush of icy cold dread floods through Joan’s system again. Every part of her being screamed at her to refuse, there will be other offers or questions she could make up for, but she knew that was just false hope. Like Death said: time was almost up. She couldn’t risk refusing and docking more points (if she isn’t in the negatives already, that is).
“Fine.” She forced out through her teeth.
She reached for the pen in her pocket, but Death held up a hand.
“Don’t use that inky thing,” He said. “It won’t get the job done. Please- allow me.”
He flicked his wrist and a large carving knife appears out of thin air and clatters to the floor in front of Joan. She stares at it for a moment, then picked it up, setting her left hand down in its place. She took a deep breath, screwed her eyes shut, and plunged the blade down.
Joan couldn’t choke back the scream that burst from her lips. She cried at the pain, sobbing in horror when she looked down to see the knife practically pinning her hand to the floor. Dark red blood pools around her fingers, gushing and spurting like spigot from the wound when she pulls the blade free. She cradled her wounded hand close to her chest, weeping weakly.
“Very good,” Death cooed, clapping.
Joan raised her eyes slowly and Death smirked at how lit up they were, almost like hot coals.
“I have a dare for you.” Joan growled, her voice low and dangerous.
“I accept.”
“Change your eye color to blue.”
For a moment, Joan swore she saw the slightly twitch on Death’s features. She watched him close his eyes, sit their silently for a moment, then open them again.
They were still yellow and slit.
“I cannot.” He said. However, he wasn’t angry or irritated at being stumped, rather amused. “Next...what is the flying speed of a swallow?”
Joan ripped off of a strip of her shirt and wrapped it around her bloody hand, hoping it would be a good enough substitute for real bandages for now.
“African or European?”
Death grinned. And that grin only grew wider as the candles around Joan went out until only the one behind her remained lit.
"̸̡̢̢̣͓͚͖̪̼̪͑͊̈́͋̀́̾͗͘ͅT̷̼̺͈̮̜͔̙͂̋̉͋͛̈̿̀̕͜͠͝i̸̢̹̙̼̠͓͚̖̗͔̮̔̌͂̓̐̊̈́̔̃̕m̸̡̱̤̱͙͎̦̱͙̪̻̓̅͌̉̀̈́̐̄͒̌̕͘͝e̸̟̳͒'̸̗͎̞̙̋̎̓́́͑̉͐͑̈́s̷̰̬̙͖̲̩͚̥͈̝̩̻̻̮̭͂̀̐̓̑̓͌̓̀́̐̐ ̷̡̳͍̗͉̝͔̃̑͛̀͊͌͆̌̒̃̔͘̚͠ͅû̵̞̠̣͉̻̖̅̓̄̏͝p̷̛͖͎̮̖͇̬̮͉̥̲͈̟͊̃́̃̏̇̇͛͗̅̕͘,̷̢̧̧̹͈̗̝͙̪͉̖̆̈́ͅ ̸̲̩̥̇͂̓͌̀̋͗̀͛̚J̵̼̣̋ö̴̡͕̺̪̠͓̹͔̂͝ą̶̡̜̭̤͖̭̫̝̘̆̂̾̐͊̾̒̂̏n̶̛̛̬̦̥̠̮̐̓̃̋̍̒̂͐̂̽ͅ.̴̪̰̩̀͊̑̐́̂͗̍̐̈́̚"̴͍͆͛́̈́̈́̍͆̀͗͘͝͝
It was almost impossible to breathe. Joan can barely hold herself together- the tears are flowing freely and she can’t get them to stop. She would say a prayer for her damned soul if it weren’t for the whole atheist thing, and she worried that Death would get angry at her for it, even if it was said in her mind, which he couldn’t possible read (or, at least, she hoped he couldn’t).
Still, she bowed at the waist and thanked Death for the game.
“Let’s tally up the score, shall we?”
Joan first saw blood start to spread across Death’s midsection, then a sharp sting struck her in the stomach. She hissed in pain and lifted her shirt slightly, as did Death, and they both saw tally marks upon their flesh.
Death had twenty-three.
And Joan watched in shock as a twenty-fourth tally carved down through her skin right before her eyes.
“Congratulations, Joan Meutas,” Death says, “You’ve won. What is it that you wish for?”
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flying-elliska · 5 years ago
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Hi Ellie!! I hope u dont mind this ask ❤Do u have any advice on how to do stuff on your checklist and not get overwhelmed? I can hardly do one thing out of my to do list and then i get severely depressed for not being able to do anything. i dont think i can function like a human being sometimes. anyway youre so cool ellie!!! i admire you loads!!! - help asked from one adhd struggling teen
HI anon ! I’m sorry for not answering sooner i had a beautiful answer ready and then Tumblr just ate it T_T anyway i don’t mind at all i think it’s awesome that you’re asking me ! this is honestly still something I’ve struggled a lot with. here are a few things that helped me (keep in mind i’m not a professional and this is only my personal, limited point of view) :
- ofc the first thing is to get as much help as you can, there are lots of people out there who can help. Generally talk to people around you about your problems ; often they want to help and just don’t know how : i know the tendency to feel ashamed and keep it in but that’s not good. Some people might be a bit ignorant so maybe keep a few ressources on hand you can send to people to educate them if that’s an issue ; and educate yourself so you feel more secure and legitimate in your opinions. 
- one thing that’s helped me lots is to go on #ADHDtwitter and #Neurodiversesquad because a lot of people on there are actual adults who are sharing both their struggles but also tips on how to actually manage the symptoms and have full and happy, if messy, lives. It’s very inspiring. It helped me a lot to feel understood, less alone and gave me a ton of ideas. Some accounts to start with : @ danidonovan - @ blkgrllostkeys @ ADHD_Alien (her comics are so cute) @ dustyexner plus lots of others
- regarding having trouble doing things, this is definitely a Big Damn Problem for adhd folks. the concept of the emotional Wall of Awful really helped me with this, you can find more about it in this Youtube video by the awesome How To ADHD channel (all her videos are so helpful !! have a look!) basically the idea is that we accumulate emotions linked to certain tasks based on unhappy past emotions that make it a lot harder for us to do things and that building it down takes a lot of time and effort but there are ways to work with/around that. learning to process, connect to and be more mindful of our emotions is a huge task, but it’s often a central one. 
- don’t try too hard to be neurotypical aka ‘normal’. find the solutions that work for YOU. If they’re a bit weird ? Whatever. The point is that it works. You will probably end up having weird routines that make no sense to others but it doesn’t matter as long as it helps you. Be creative and don’t be afraid to think outside the box. I’ll give you an example :  one of the reasons i hate going to bed early is because late at night is when i feel the most free of outside obligations and therefore i don’t want to give that up. So instead what i’ve been trying to do from time to time is a ‘clown hour’ where i basically give myself permission to do whatever the fuck i want (within reason lmao) but in an active way ; basically indulge my rebellious inner 8 yr old. Last time I ended up watching martial arts videos on youtube and practicing kickboxing kicks on the Mulan soundtrack and then put on funeral music and improvised my own eulogy by thinking about what i would like people to say about me after my death. Lmao that sounds completely wack when explained to other people but the point is - stuff like that really helped me reconnect to the idea that my time is mine to do with as i please, not just late at night. Anyway my point is : make it fun, make it a game, try things, experiment. Our brains crave novelty and if they don’t have it and feel burdened by shame, pressure and expectations of course they get depressed and stuck. Give your brain the fuel it needs to work. 
- just accept that sometimes you’re going to be a mess. it’s okay. you can be a bit of a mess and also live a fully, happy, joyous life. our society puts so much pressure on us to have this Perfect Instagram Life where everything is polished to unrealistic standards and gives us the idea that your morals are linked to productivity and if you are not constantly striving to be a Model Consumer Pretty Picture you are a Bad Person and a slob/lazy/unworthy/etc and all of that is...toxic garbage of the highest order that everyone should unlearn but especially us. related to that i would be careful with use of social media, tailor it to only give you content that makes you feel good/intellectually engaged/creative because it’s so easy for us to go into bad comparative spirals.
- tied to that be careful of your own perfectionist drives. it’s veeeeery common for adhd people to want to overcompensate their perceived shortcomings by wanting to be perfect. aka you haven’t done anything in weeks and all of a sudden you have this insane to do list where you expect yourself to turn your entire life around in a week. well, not going to happen. i’ve found it so important to limit myself. for instance what i do now is i forbid myself to put more than 5 items on any todo list. once i’ve cleared items i can add more, but not before. it’s a lot less scary that way. also prioritizing is very important so you don’t get bogged down in details.
- try to be mindful of your own energy. a big tendency of adhd people is to overpromise and underdeliver because we are enthusiastic and we want to please people but we are bad at estimating time/energy it will need. learn more about your own boundaries, what things are hard for you to do (for me, it’s socializing in groups) and what gives you energy (for me it’s writing, reading and walking in the woods) and try to balance that. learn to say no, it’s tough but necessary. So that you have enough left for the tasks you need to do. 
- create an environment that is benevolent and helpful for you in which to work/do things and that generates positive emotions. Get yourself a cute notebook. Put on happy music. Don’t forget to feed yourself. Don’t give into the urge of punishing yourself. You deserve happy good things - not overindulgence as escape - but our brains thrive on short term rewards. Bundle the unpleasant tasks with more stimulating stuff (for instance i always listen to podcasts while cleaning/grocery shopping etc). Create pleasant little routines for yourself (for instance one of the first things i try to do in the morning is do a little drawing of my emotions, it makes me happy, then i have tea and i plan my day.). Put on alarms constantly so you don’t lose track of time, but with a cool song. Find yourself cheerleaders who can encourage you in a positive way. Stuff like the pomodoro technique, timing yourself while doing a task, etc, can really help. Or telling yourself you will do a thing for ten minutes and stop when it’s unbearable, etc. Prioritize joy, pride, affection, desire to help, altruism, love, curiosity, interest and passion as motivators, instead of anxiety, guilt and shame. 
- find ways to build self esteem and confidence in your own skills. it’s often a lack of that that can block you from doing what you need to because you might be afraid of screwing it up. what I did for a while, for instance, is to keep a record of the stuff i did everyday and then extrapolated the skills i displayed from that. another thing you can do is make a list of simple skills you want to learn and find ways to do that, like youtube tutorials, etc. especially when it’s practical stuff and quick to learn, it can really feel so good, and make you more familiar with a sensation of success (and if you fail it can be a fun experiment gone wrong, and self discovery, you don’t have to be good at everything.)
- find ways to challenge yourself. depression happens for adhd people when we let ourself stagnate, isolate ourselves because of shame, and get into this idea that we are subhuman and we don’t deserve good things. that is false. you deserve a happy life. and our brains crave novelty. find your passion and indulge in it, find the things that make your brain come alive (as long as they’re healthy ofc). if you’re not sure what that is, just keep trying. you will find it. but resist the temptation to make your life smaller and smaller. you might mess up but that’s okay. it’s human and it will make for interesting stories later. instead of trying too hard to ‘fix’ yourself, focus on developping your positive sides. it will give you energy, self-respect and draw you forwards like a rocketship. we thrive on passion, not reprimand. 
- anyways : i know how tough it can be. depression is really something i struggle with, too. and doing things remains Hard. but my point is, you are not alone, and you are not broken. chances are you too, like most adhd people i know, are a fun, creative, compassionate person with a heart of gold and so much to give. our main enemy is most often the shame that comes with living in a world that is not adapted to us. but the truth is we are just playing the game of life on a much harder setting than a lot of people, and we don’t even have the manual. of course it’s going to create struggle ! so i think the best thing to do for yourself is cultivate a sense of compassion towards yourself, self acceptance, and humor. 
- as a teen you probably have a limited margin of autonomy to make your lifestyle fit your needs but - there is so much potential for it to get better ! as you grow in self knowledge and ability to make your own choices, you will find the right solutions and your life will get so much better. i have heard so many stories like this. since i got diagnosed, too, my life got a lot better. i won’t lie, it’s a lifelong process. but there is so much possible. give yourself time. you are so young, and you are definitely a human being. being human is struggling with being flawed and vulnerable and imperfect. i know the world can be shit sometimes, you probably got some negative messages - especially from your own brain bc depression definitely lies to you ! but don’t let yourself be guided by ignorance and fear. you deserve better. i bet you’re also super cool. the happier you are, the better off the world will be. so invest in yourself. educate yourself, develop your self knowledge, be kind to yourself, and keep making little steps. you’ll get there. <3
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doof-doofblog · 5 years ago
Text
"Their Mum Isn't Even Here, Jean!"
Monday 18th May 2020
Good Afternoon folks! I hope you've all had a good week, I'm sure you've all been made aware of the recent EastEnders news! For those of you who haven't heard, the soap writers and the rest of the team have been given the green light to start re-filming again, this is due to take place some time next month. However, it does mean that EastEnders will be taken off air for a few weeks until the time will come for them to start re-filming again. This is fantastic news that we've all been waiting for, we won't have to wait much longer than expected for us to get our usual 4 episodes a week back. How long the soap will be off air still remains unknown. It also has been revealed that script-writers will include characters talking about the current pandemic. I for one, feel it's amazing news to hear that plans are in place for our favourite actors and actresses to walk through the Square again! Crew will still make sure that everyone follows the rules and for them to keep 2 meters apart and the recording/editing team will use techniques to make it look as natural as possible for the viewers.  I also realise this post is a bit late, due to me being in work again, but today I will post 2 blogs covering both last night's episode and tonight's episode.
I also have some other news for you, it has been revealed that EastEnders are planning to film an episode which will focus entirely on Ben and his hearing loss. The soap will feature subtitles and muffled audio for the audience to get the idea and/or experience what Ben is currently going through. I for one, am REALLY looking forward to seeing this episode. It will be something completely different and something that we've never seen before. I love when soaps jump in the deep end and decide to show something completely different, it was the same when Bobby kept seeing Lucy and also when Stacey went through her breakdown a couple of years ago. I just find it fascinating! I'm sure it'll be a momentous moment for EastEnders and it'll get rave feedback! Are you looking forward to seeing this episode air? The episode will be shown on Monday 1st June! I can hardly contain my excitement!
Now, let's make a start on last night's episode, a lot to cover from last night I think. Let's start with Isaac, still moping about finding out about Patrick being his biological father. Denise has done everything she can to keep him from making a mess of himself. She knows he's struggling but skipping work and making up excuses and drinking until he's nearly having a pee in front of children, is definitely not the way to be coping. All I can really say is, thank you to Bailey! What an amazing child she is! Amazing that it's taken a child to actual make a grown-up realise he hasn't really got it all that bad! Yeah, it would be a shock to him, but what Bailey said was absolutely inspirational and it really spoke truth to him. She's absolutely right in the fact that the guy who Isaac thought was his Dad, never left his side till his death. He was with him every single day and treated him like his own, now he's got another Dad to help him with his future, he could really make a go of building a relationship with Patrick if he gave him the chance. When Bailey spoke how lucky she was to have had two Mum's, I just thought it was absolutely moving, really sweet. I'm hoping now Isaac will realise he hasn't got it all that bad and he'll be able to move on, perhaps when Patrick and Sheree come back, he'll be able to ask them any questions he wants answering and maybe then, he'll feel ready to move on and accept Patrick is his Dad.
Oh Keegan! I feel like he's just not dealing with things well at the moment. I mean, did he really need to post up the video to his social media, inevitably putting Jack's job at risk! Jack told him to keep it to himself as their could be consequences, and its as if he didn't care. He was selfish and wanted to uphold his reputation. I mean, I get he wanted to prove he was innocent, but that would have happened in time and the police would've admitted their mistakes, but it's as if he can't let go after the way they treated him. I personally, feel sorry for Tiffany in all of this, she's being stuck right in the middle of it all. She's trying her best to support and understand her husband, but also her uncle put his neck on the line for her husband. What's going to happen now? Could Jack be in deep trouble with this colleagues? Will Keegan get the justice he's so desperate for? Or will he come to regret posting the video in the first place? I know it's awful to say, but I'm kinda getting a bit bored of this story-line now, I have a feeling this will change Keegan's personality completely and it may lead to further story-lines involving him fighting against the police, fighting for equality and stuff like that? I could be completely wrong, but I just have a feeling that might be the direction it'll take, who knows? I am concerned for Jack now though, is he going to lose his job now though due to Keegan's actions? Will he be able to explain himself or will he do as Keegan suggested and keep quiet? What do you think is going to happen? Do you see this story-line dying down eventually or could it take a whole new direction? Let me know what you think guys, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Ha! She may be a bit gullible, but I do love Habiba! She brings a lot of comedy to the soap, which is what we really need right now. At first I thought she was going to get away with it and be able to get the information for Rainie! I loved the look on Ian's face when he thought she was serious about getting to know more about the business. It was only when she dropped all her papers and Ian saw her paperwork it was all going to go downhill! I just loved the fact she didn't seem to click, not even knowing what "Sweet FA" meant! God bless her! Haha! But now Ian has made Max aware of what is going on, what does it mean for Max? Will he still give Rainie the divorce she wants? Or will he be able to give her the divorce and still be able to keep the majority of his money! Even Ruby mentioned he should be careful with money, considering he wanted to take her out for a meal even though he still has a divorce to pay for. Did anyone else see the flirtation between Ruby and Martin?! Okay, let me just say ... where the heck has Martin been?! With everything happening with Jean, surely he would've been there to help Kush out ... hmm maybe now he'll start helping? Anyway, there was obvious flirtation and sexual attraction there between Martin and Ruby ... Didn't they sleep together once a while back?! And they've not mentioned it to anyone or to each other since? Now Ruby has offered him a job, could there be something on the horizon for them? And will Max start to feel jealous around them and begin to notice what's going on?!
So, due to Ben having a temperature, his operation has had to be postponed. It's a bit of shame as I feel everyone wanted him to get it done there and then, obviously Ben more than anyone! Callum was there to support his partner, after having their argument the episode beforehand, he knew he had to be there for him. It was massive blow for Ben to be told he couldn't have the operation, he just wants everything to be back to normal. But now the question is, when will he have the operation? Will it still be a success? But most importantly, will he have the operation in time before he has to do the dodgy deal with his Dad? Something is telling me, No! Even Phil was eager to know when they'd reschedule his op for, and Kathy noticed it was the exact same way that Ben reacted! Is she going to click on that something is happening between the two of them and will she find out what they're involved in?! I'm really looking forward to seeing what the future holds for Ben, the episode that's going to be completely focused on him is going to be epic! We know that Ben is still meant to come across someone who is completely deaf, a young girl named Frankie will come into the soap, will she be able to help Ben come to terms with his hearing loss? I do hope his op will be successful, but of course, we will all have to wait and see!
Ooooh poor Jean! I just want to give her a big hug and tell her everything is okay. She's found out that both Kush and Shirley were slipping her medication into her food and drink, which actually caused her to have her fit. They'd accidentally given her too much and she'd been poisoned by the vast amount they'd given her. Of course their intentions were caring and loving as they both care very deeply for Jean and can see that she's not being herself recently, they were literally trying to do their best at caring for her. It just turned out so drastically wrong. I hated the fact that Suki had to get involved, she was more bothered about her cardigan!! She is going to be so smug now knowing that Jean also has bipolar and that she was there to help and even stop the hospital from getting both Kush and Shirley in trouble. Jean owes her nothing and I hope Jean knows that! What is Suki getting out of this? I don't understand, why can't she just keep her distance from Jean and leave her alone! I feel sorry for all of them, I feel sorry for Jean, I feel sorry for Kush and Shirley. Everyone is just trying to help and poor Jean can't see that, and now she feels as if she can't trust them and has decided to throw Kush out, as well as the kids. I'm worried that her living on her own is going to cause her more problems, how will she be able to cope? I think now is the time for Stacey and Kat to come back, Jean's mental state is only going to get from bad to worse and without Kush or Shirley being there to look after her, who's going to let them know?! Maybe Kush and Shirley can keep an eye on her from a distance? Will Kush finally inform Martin about is happening? Either way, I just hope Jean will be okay, although I do fear it's only going to get worse for her before it gets better.
I hope you've all enjoyed reading, if you have anything you'd like to talk to me about regarding EastEnders, feel free to send me a message. I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions on the current story-lines. I'll be back again this evening with a second post following up tonight's episode! Thanks folks! xXx
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mohartproductions · 5 years ago
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So in a nutshell, YouTube is "encouraging" content creators to mark their material as either child friendly or not. Sure it might make sense at first glance but if I may ask... Why should we have to? Why should labeling our own videos as either for kids or adults be our responsibility? Cause here's the thing, most content creators don't really make their videos with any age demographic in mind. Yeah there are videos with swearing, and some even have blood or even gore, but for the most part it's just swearing; and even then it's no most creators don't really specifically intend to make videos for kids or adults, they just make videos doing what they like to work on, be it gaming, reviews or so fourth. I could get into further detail on how arbitrary it is to label content as being "Adult" or "Kid Friendly" specifically language which we consider "bad words" but also even blood and any imagery of the naked human body to an extent but one topic at a time (And how we resort to scolding or even punishing children for using those words or looking at that imagery) but one topic at a time; anyway the consensus of what we consider to be for kids or adults is only distracting us from the real problem with YouTube's approach to sorting out which videos are okay for kids, apply it's probably not really for the sake of letting people know what kids can or can't watch, but possibly as one of YouTube's attempts at getting more kids to use their platform. I don't know about anyone else but, guys... This is kind'a, sort'a illegal! For those of you who don't know, in the early years of the internet, COPPA (Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act) was established to insure the protection of minors who may be surfing the web, by insuring that only individuals over 13 years of age are allowed to use social media platforms like YouTube, Facebook, Deviantart, or even sites for purchasing products like Gamestop, Amazon, or so fourth, and in that regard it actually makes sense because for one, kids under 13 still wouldn't exactly be as good with interacting with older people they don't know so probably for the best, for more reasons than one, to ensure they don't get themselves into trouble by either angering or bothering an adult or teenager, or worse making contact with an adult who has ill intent for said kids and their families; plus you probably wouldn't entrust a kid to buy something from the web without permission. Now bare with me folks, I am in no way saying that kids can't or shouldn't watch videos on YouTube or anywhere online, (Save for porn sites of course) I'm just saying that they shouldn't have their own accounts... which YouTube seems to be encouraging! Now it's possible that's not really their intent, maybe they just want to be more like cable television... except the internet is NOT television, the same rules of censorship, apply the S&P Department, do not apply to the World Wide Web, and even then, again people should not have to bare the burden of being responsible for what they consider for a particular age demographic. Again... Why should we have to be responsible for the sanctity of other people's children?! And honestly, as long as kids keep things to themselves do you REALLY think they're gonna care?! Sure they might care if their parents or teachers are present... if only because they fear being "disciplined" by them and facing the consequences. (again for some of the most arbitrary taboos in our society but again one topic at a time) Any you know what I just realized? YouTube is technically following the same vices, if we some how fail to label content being "for kids" then they are going to punish us, the older people! Now are you beginning to see the really problem here! They are enforcing arbitrary rules that we now have to follow based on the same conflicting traditional taboos, or they will either punish us, or force to make our content how they see fit themselves! And again... WHY should this many people have to be responsible for what they show to other people's children they don't know?! Again COPPA exists to ensure they laws they issues years prior which all websites have to follow, and whether or not you're encouraging kids to sign-up you either way are breaking one of the golden rules of the internet. And if I may be blunt YouTube seems rather pretentious and repetitive about how their making their site "for kids" to a point where it almost seems like they don't really care about the well being of children (and their parents/teachers) at all and are using it more as a ploy to meet Google's demands for gaining capital. Even then if sites like YouTube do want to appeal more to children without the risk of parents and teachers wagging their fingers at them then I think there is a solution that benefit everyone... of course this is just my opinion so take it with a grain of salt... JUST DON'T MAKE NUDITY & SWEAR WORDS TABOOS ANYMORE! Seriously, why are swear words "bad words?" And why do we feel the need to be put off by a woman's bare breasts, or a man's penis, I mean we have those things on our own bodies and we can see them right there when we're changing clothes or taking a bath or shower; plus look at animals, they're naked and we can clearly see their mammary glands and sexual organs! And why do we always tell our kids to not look at those things or say those things when we see or say them all the time?! And on a minor tangent, why do we constantly have to encourage people to be put off by the sight of blood, or even muscle when we not only see it all the time in a butcher shop (seriously that's a gore fest right their and you never even knew it) but we also see it in artwork in educational books and medical posters in public hospitals all the time; heck art and science museums also show depictions of gore and human body parts and they're public; and if I'm not mistaken we use to depict stuff like nudity and gore in fairy tales we use to read to kids at night, so you can't tell me it's because of sex and kids are too young to have sex, partly since I'm sure kids would be the least interested at all in any sort of sexual activity and would probably find it weird until their late teens anyway! Now the exact reasons as for why these things may vary from person to person; but I think a lot of us can agree that there's nor real reason why should continue condoning language or imagery or arbitrarily, and especially YouTube following those same vices are not only vague since again what we consider to be for kids or adults isn't 100% monolithic, but also contradictory to the rules they're technically breaking themselves and only hurting more of the people that could potentially benefit them. Sure, in concert we should be wary of what our kids are exposed to, but not at the cost of other people's free speech, and especially not at the cost of the sanctity of their own content they're trying to live off of. See what you're doing YouTube. You are acting just like how any parent or teach would, are are punishing people to follow rules that make no sense, and in the end doesn't encourage good behavior but instead just makes people fear you.
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