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summersmithlatinxgyatt · 1 year ago

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GET READY FOR 2000 WORDS OF YAP

This will serve as a dense summary that supports my previous Season 3 and onward Summer analysis blogs. This shows the basis stemming from Season 1 to 3. I highly recommending reading my analysis blogs, but this serves as a great place to start

Summer Smith is a character that I have not seen anyone pay attention to on the same caliber as Rick or even any other character of the family. Despite the small pool and consistent focus, I constantly see her be summarized as being both a typical teen girl and a badass, as if the latter is all that’s done to make her stand out as a character. Luckily, fans who’ve paid more attention to the narrative and her character can at LEAST pick out scattered parts of her characters through focused moments. I do not want to instantly discredit anyone, especially anyone who has known this about Summer but just never shared their thoughts. However, I still see a lack of any meaningful summary, so I wanted to give my own sort of timeline and summary of Summer’s character. As much as I’d like this to be as in-depth as possible, I will be writing this in one go and whatever is fresh on my mind

Summer is incredibly insecure about her self-image, like many teens her age. The difference is how this plays into being a part of the Smith family. She has no one to talk to about it directly because every member of her family is already involved in their own relationship or somewhat gets over it, which she points out in ‘GoTron Jerrysis Rickvangelion’. Rick’s philosophy was something the show practically revolved around for earlier seasons which is exhibited in every character in different ways except Summer. We don’t really see any moment of Summer burying her fear or getting over it even with some amount of silver lining. Instead, she embraces any caliber of attention and love no matter the ramifications. A great example of this is ‘Something Ricked This Way Comes’, where Summer seeks the attention of Mr. Needful, who Rick aptly points out is ‘literally the Devil’. Despite this, she still works for him, accepts his gratitude, and even saves his life

This is a persistent part of Summer’s character, but in later seasons it is the basis of who she is NOW, not her entire personality. These insecurities can range from not feeling pretty or simply having no friends or partners. There’s also a unique aspect to her dynamic, that being she tends to go along with whatever is happening around her as long as she gains from it or at least survives

‘Ricksy Business’ shows a raging party that Summer hosts solely to have attention drawn towards her and feel popular. Even when Rick invites his alien friends, she doesn’t act like Morty. Morty is shown to be on his toes, trying to stop anything bad from happening and making sure not one thing goes wrong. Summer is neutral to the party while Rick insists it continues on through any means, literally sending Morty out to get drugs for him. In this episode, Summer wanted the party to simply go on for her own popularity. However, it would backfire because of one detail we can’t ignore. Summer isn’t innocent.

She dismissed Nancy as a dork she didn’t want to be around, which later on meant no one wanted to be around her once Nancy talked about how shitty she can be. In Season 4, we see she’s invited her to her house with Tricia at least, but in Season 1, Summer is dismissive of others if they don’t give her some form of attention in return

‘Rixty Minutes’ is an episode that shows that her parents had Summer when they were very young and still in high school. When Summer ties to look into other versions of her life across the multiverse, it’s entirely blank and because these are connected to the versions Jerry and Beth see. THIS IS A CONSISTENT DETAIL! On the TV, we see the version of Jerry that Beth also runs into. That means Summer looked into the same universes, but she was absent. As a result, she blames herself for being a burden and someone holding her parents’ potential back.

One detail worth mentioning is that in the other universes, she mentions she’s playing Yahtzee with her family each time. As I keep mentioning and WILL mention here, she values family in high regard. If these universes are focused on successful outcomes, then the happy ending for Summer she didn’t know about back then was bonding with her family. Board games are sometimes used as bonding moments in the show. Two examples that come to mind as I write this include ‘A Rickconvenient Mort’ when Morty originally brought Planetina to the family and then ‘Rickmancing the Stone’ when Beth plays with the robot versions of Summer and Morty, saying she never gets to do this. It’s clearly something the family almost never does but when they do, the times we have seen them pop up is in the context of being too good to be true - the family being together.

We constantly see Jerry reference television and media, it’s clear he wanted to be an actor

Beth mentions she performs surgery on humans instead of horses

And Summer doesn’t realize that her dream is being achieved - having a normal life and a loving family that bonds

Of course, Morty convinces Summer to not run away as she basically realizes someone DOES love and appreciate her in the family. When she says ‘You’re not my brother?’, it also speaks volumes that another Morty was willing to love another version of his sister after the events of ‘Rick Potion #9’. Furthermore, the idea that no one BELONGS anywhere doesn’t mean everyone aimlessly wanders. It just means that Summer wasn’t entitled to any standards at all, standards that she feels the need to abide by that are the entire root of her insecurities and the idea that she is holding her parents back

‘Get Schwifty’ focuses on Summer’s place in the new religion of Headism. She takes it as an opportunity to be seen as perfect in the eyes of her parents. In an episode like ‘Total Rickall’, we see her mother drinking instead of driving her to school, then bruising her eye with a bottle of wine. And of course, the crux of ‘Rixty Minutes’ is Summer feeling like she’s holding back her parents. Her parents didn't show her love and she didn’t know why, which led to her ignoring anyone who didn’t instantly love her back. She was careless and snappy, but in ‘Get Schwifty’, she realized one way to get their attention - ignore her flaws

Whether or not this detail was intentional too, she was following a philosophy her family followed as well, which was ignoring those flaws. Her own unique spin on it and the point of her place in this episode is having a religion to follow that she can not only align herself upon, but as a reference point for others to realize how much she’s changed. This works not only for her parents but for Ethan as well. Summer is shown to be more active and seemingly happy but incredibly devoted to this religion. When she sees the heads, she uses it as proof that she can achieve a form of improvement that is legitimate, which is why she’s so dedicated to it

However, just because Summer goes along with any means to be popular, it doesn’t mean that she will ignore her family. Again, she wants their attention and love. Summer wouldn’t harm her family entirely if she thinks they already hold a negative view of her, except ARGUABLY Jerry. With these next two examples, you’ll see that Season 2 has outliers because her character is fleshed out

‘Big Trouble in Little Sanchez’ shows that Summer cares for Rick’s well being and is frustrated when no one else seeks his safety. She was selfless enough to risk her own popularity when she ‘ratted out’ Rick, she just didn’t know the extent of it. However, she doesn’t cry about it and insists on still saving Rick. This is around the time she begins to hold her family closer. ‘Total Rickall’ shows the family needs to stick together and tries to find a silver lining from how toxic they all are to one another. ‘Rixty Minutes’ shows Morty’s love for her while ‘Something Ricked This Way Comes’ shows Rick’s love for Summer. As a result, she values them for the happiness they bring one another and goes out of her way to save Rick even when he thinks he doesn’t need help

‘Look Who’s Purging Now’ shows how she’s found her place within the family. She gravitates towards Rick and Morty more instead of her parents. Rick entrusts Summer to save them both while Jerry pesters her. The constant character traits are on FULL DISPLAY in this episode and I’m kicking myself for not mentioning it before. She nearly cries as she remembers moments with her father and is insulted that he used family bonding moments to ease her into giving Jerry money. And although it probably isn’t intentional, saying The Purge sucks opposes Jerry’s view of just liking and referencing all movies. This point is also supported when she asks if all interdimensional cable needs to be juvenile violence. Furthermore, this small detail is contrasted when she’s more aggressive and fine with killing in Season 3.

In this episode, we understand more of who Summer favors in her life - Rick and Morty and not Jerry. This branches out from Season 1’s showing of Summer as a careless teenager, as ‘Raising Gazorpazorp’ and ‘Something Ricked This Way Comes’ cement how she holds Rick close too

So we’ve moved past holding people close to just love them and get something out of it. In Season 2, she realizes she appreciates the genuine love her family has for her. At the same time, she’s finding out who she loves and why. The ending of Season 2, however, utterly changes this

I can go on and on for days about how this scene needs to be recognized as one of the most pivotal across the entire show. I consider it the most important scene when it comes to understanding her character. If you want the episode where Summer changes into her more rebellious and strong side, watch ‘Wedding Squanchers’ after understanding everything that came before.

As I’ve said again and again, the reason I regard Summer breaking into tears when Rick mentions the consequences of the Galactic Federation being on their heels is because so little is said and it shows a lot about Summer.

This is a scene where she’s the only one crying and blames herself because her insecurities have played a part in leading to Tammy murdering Bird Person and successfully rounding up any terrorists. And again, she’s so lonely and out-of-place alongside her family that it’s just looked over, ironically by many fans too

I will wrap this up by summarizing what follows

Because Summer holds herself heavily accountable for befriending Tammy to begin with, she holds her family closer than ever. She swears to bring back Rick and hates the Galactic Federation. This is branching off character traits in Summer and removes the idea that Summer will listen to authority or take their word. Even across ‘Wedding Squanchers’, she comes to an ultimate realization by telling Jerry, “You don’t love someone in hopes of a reward”. This single line removes Summer’s old trait where she quite literally loved other people in hopes of a reward, meaning yes, the previous scene IS her ego death and the moment her character changes.

She despises the Federation and is the only one in the family willing to act against them - again, showing her alienation. This is why Summer is fine with acting violently to address an issue, why she doesn’t listen to a form of authority, and is close with her family. Later seasons show she keeps them together. If Summer didn’t rebel, then there’s almost no chance she would’ve convinced Rick to come back (side-note, another Rick holds Summer hostage instead of Morty in ‘The Rickshank Rickdemption’). Her subconscious potential manifested as Night Summer, which is nothing more than Summer being totally brutal and speaking however she pleases. The Night family listens to Summer, because they recognize that she also keeps them together. This implies that even though no one else in the family says anything about Summer’s role, they HAVE thought about it. Night Summer is not inherently evil or a ‘dark’ version of Summer despite the name. If anything, this is identical to Summer playing Yahtzee - finding her place in her family, being trusted, and being loved.

This is meant to be more of an analysis compilation to break down Summer’s character. To oppose what many have said, Summer is actually a fleshed-out and very consistent character.

She is not just a bratty teenager.

She is not just a badass.

She is not just insecure.

Summer Smith began as an insecure teenager because she has never found attention or love that stayed. As time passed, she found shelter by being loved and loving others. However, this all changed when her past insecurities and the need to be loved caught up and she blamed herself for the Galactic Federation. She needed to keep her family close after nearly losing them, she went against any authority figures from now on, and she went on her own accord. The aforementioned descriptions aren’t entire fractions of her character or something that she instantly falls back on. This is always changing and sometimes is erased as time passes. She’s always changing, and that’s why for me, she is the most overlooked character in the show due to how much depth she carries that isn’t noticed. And of course, why Summer Smith has got to be my favorite character. So much so that a ‘short’ recap ended up being over 2,300 words

#rick and morty #summer smith #summer #hyperfixation #character analysis #character exploration #summer smith is the best character #professional yapper #infodump

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howldean · 4 years ago

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stfu just say you're a snowflake. they them isn't singular and your "identity" labels aren't even real, like seriously you're gay or straight or a girl a boy or a tranny stop lying to yourself and see a fucking therapist you dumb faggot

Hello there, anon!

See, usually, I’d simply discard your message and laugh about how pathetic you are to my friends over discord (some can confirm that I’m doing this there too <3) but fuck it! I’m feeling combative tonight and I’m procrastinating, so I might as well waste my time making you feel special like a snowflake

Let’s break this down in order of appearance:

1. Pronouns!

Singular they IS in fact proper grammatically. Singular they is used for some nonbinary individuals, *like myself* as well as in context to an unknown person (i.e. someone left their phone here, if anyone saw who they were, please give it to them)

(official Merriam-Webster dictionary def)

so yeah, fuck off about that <3

2. Identity

I... *inhales* YOU DON’T HAVE TO UNDERSTAND LABELS FOR THEM TO BE VALID! ADDITIONALLY you say it’s boy/girl/trans-spec but then what about intersex people? Intersex individuals have biological factors that aren’t catergorized as male or female sexes. (XXY, XXX, XXYY chromosome anomalies, as well as hormone imbalances, and discrepancies in genital development) //for the lovely humans reading this, please look into intersex youth rights and protections, as some can undergo forced genital mutilation surgeries at a young age to “better align” with M/F sexes. InterACT is a great advocacy resource btw//

✨Biological sex isn’t binary either✨

Also, fun fact! Attempting to invalidate my identity isn’t going to change anything. Why?

This is the happiest I’ve ever been about who I am

Gender and sexuality are fluid, and one packet of gelatin isn’t going to harden the Thames

my partners and I will happily engage in a swordfight with you and your partner (if one is present) mind you, there’s three of us and at most two of you, and two of my team are skilled with the blade. And we’re all highly motivated

dude, I’m just as confused as you are, I’m just vibing with what’s comfortable

oh... and also?

That shit’s fucking legal. Feel free to look at my State ID, my gender is legally marked ‘X’

soooooo yeah have fun with that

3. Lying to myself

Honey, of the pair of us, I’m the one that’s speaking publicly. Did I have to post this? Nope. Am I doing it anyway? Yep.

I lie to myself about a lot of things, this ain’t one of them, babe.

4. Therapy

I am actually seeing a therapist! She’s awesome, and I’ve been going for about a month and a half now. She specializes in working with LGBTQIA+ youth, and has a really compatible mindset with how I process trauma and things that I’ve held onto.

Moral of the story, therapy is absolutely amazing, especially with someone that can understand you. 11/10 would recommend.

Thanks for the advice there, though.

5. Dumb f*ggot

*rubs my grubby lil hands together with enough force to generate static electricity*

Welcome to tonight’s Everything Was Fine But You Just Fucked Around... Time To Find Out segment

Intelligence is entirely circumstantial, so honestly not sure how to reply to that. But if I’m dumb, and you’re the one that doesn’t comprehend basic usage of common words and phrases... what does that make you?

As for your tasteless and unoriginal phrasing, all I can say is I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed in you. There are SO MANY big and beautiful monsterous phrases for you to call me! Hell, make your own.

You might actively GAIN respect from me for some. SO MANY OPTIONS. There’s a whole bank of potential for you, I mean Niobium? The element for one of my names, it’s a transition metal you’ve got so many fucking choices there, and each is as epically transphobic as you could possibly dream of. Talk shit about bees, idk. Hell, call me a cuckolding bleach-drenched shitstain!

Finally, to my followers and mutuals

Hey loves! Sorry you had to read all of that, people suck, huh? But hey, I was honestly looking for a good chance to word-vomit about a couple things, so this worked out nicely. I’m fine. This genuinely had me laughing and giggling at the sheer dumbassery exhibited by that anon! Btw, drink some water for me! If you want to show me support, or make me feel better, get a good night’s rest soon, or send me opossum photos. If a Pity Party means I get opossums, then I might pretend like these words affected me in any way that didn’t make me cackle maniacally

P.S.

I’m gonna have to go digging through my archive for a lil post because ummm

Sorry anon, I really am, because JJ is going to fucking murder you, Ash is going to damn you to hell, and every single one of my mutuals will lunge to harm you in their own special lil ways.

And I can’t save you from that ❤️

tl;dr singular they exists, attacking my identity won’t change that - also I can fence, and I’m legally nonbinary, intersex people deserve love, I’m genuinely happy with who I am, THERAPY IS FUCKING WONDERFUL, anon is an unimaginative doofus, and all of my followers and mutuals deserve the world... and the anon fucked with the wrong people

#baby's first anon hate?#tw homophobia #tw transphobia #answering anons #tw slurs #fuck around and find out

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jihyuncompass · 4 years ago

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Only Then I Am Human (Only Then I am Clean)

It’s finally the end of Jihyun Week. It sure has been a roller coaster. This final fic is one I’ve been thinking about for a long time and is one very close to my heart, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating this. I want to give a special thank you to my wonderful friend @spacesquidlings for encouraging me when I was feeling scared, and for having just as much love for this fic as I do. It wouldn’t exist without you. I love you so much my friend. So this fic is dedicated to you.

Each section of this fic is inspired by a song by Hozier. I highly recommend listening to the songs along with the fic.

Only Then I Am Human (Only Then I Am Clean)

Jihyun Week 2020 Day Eight ( @mysme-events )

Free

Jihyun Kim x MC

Word Count: 10k

Summary: “V, my sun.” She cooed. “Your love is what warms me, what burns away the pain of my past. Your light drives out my own darkness.” She explained to him, she thought about her words next. “V, each day, you’d rise with me. Know that I would gladly be, the Icarus to your certainty. My sunlight.”

I. Sunlight

The photographs made her lose her breath a little. She stared at the framed photo, taking in all the small details. This was not the first time she’d seen this photo, in fact she had actually been to this gallery every day for the past week now. Each time finding herself hypnotized by this image.

The photo depicted the sun and its horizon. The sun lit up the horizon beautifully, making everything around it look washed in a golden glow. Her eyes pricked with tears, there was something about the image that was just so incredible that she couldn’t resist staring at it. So much so she didn’t even hear someone approach her.

“Do you like it?” Her eyes tore away to the young man who’d approached her. Tall, a little lanky. Like a man who hadn’t fully grown up yet, with strangely mint colored hair and matching eyes. In his gaze she found herself a bit taken aback.

“Yes I love it.” She said, looking him up and down she found him strange, but also undeniably fascinating. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

The young man smiled and motioned towards the photo in front of her. “The one who took this photo.” The young woman’s eyes widened, glancing at the small label on the bottom of the frame and then back to him.

“You must be V, the photographer!” She exclaimed.

“You’ve been standing here for almost an hour, so I came to say hello. Didn’t you come here yesterday too?” The young woman flushed a bright red. She hadn’t expected to meet the person who took the photo, nor did she expect for him to recognize her for coming the day before. She laughed a bit and rubbed the back on her neck.

“Yes… the photo was so beautiful I just had to come for another look.” She smiled at him, then continued. “I’m also a fan of your work.” The photographer, V, smiled back at her. A kind, warm smile that set her heart afire. It was a smile she had never seen someone give her. One that made her want to keep looking at him.

“I’m glad you like it. Then please enjoy it.” V said. He stepped away to walk somewhere else. Feeling his smile leave she spoke again, quick so he wouldn’t leave just yet.

“Wait!” V stopped and turned around to look back at her. “Don’t go yet. I had something to ask you.”

V cocked his head to the side. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath and then started to talk. “The sun is the mother of all things. This flower wouldn’t have come to live if the sun hadn’t exuded energy.” She looked at the photo and then back at V. “The consistent love and warmth, I feel it from all of your pieces. When I stare at your photographs, I feel all my fears disappear!” She continued speaking about the sun, about the warmth of the sun. As she spoke V listened to her, taking steps towards her to hear her better. He seemed to be in awe of what she was saying to him. “Do you believe we all can become the sun one day? Is that what you think when you take these photos?”

V stared for a while, seemingly processing all that he said to her. Then he laughed a bit. “No, I don’t have such profound thoughts when taking the photos. I’m not that great.” This time V rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit shy. “But, when I take them. I do hope that people like you can feel love when looking at them.”

She grinned at him, a bright and brilliant grin. “You are great. V, just by the fact you can take photographs like this.” V’s own heart raced looking at the woman in front of him, the way her eyes were filled with so much emotion, and so much complexity. He’d been complimented on his works before, sure. Yet this woman, she had so much more to say. Something so much deeper than anyone else he’d ever met.

“Thank you. Do you want this photograph?” He pointed towards it. She looked but shook her head sadly.

“I love it, but I don’t have enough money to purchase it.” He stepped forward, now more excited.

“I’ll give it to you as a gift.”

She blinked in surprise, unsure if she had heard him properly. “What?”

V motioned to the front of the gallery. “Please tell the receptionist your address, name and phone number.” She looked where he was motoning then back at him. Her voice shook as she responded to him.

“Oh, I can’t accept such an expensive piece!” V shook his head and touched her shoulder briefly.

“Please don’t refuse. If you feel love when looking at this photograph you are the true owner.”

“But, I don’t like receiving something for free.” She didn’t want him to just give her this, she feared his intentions, but he kept smiling at her. A warm smile that felt like sunlight to her heart.

“Then how about this?” He said. “I’ll give you this photograph and you can buy me coffee after this exhibition?”

She shook her head again, disbelieving of his words. “What?!”

“Your thoughts made a big impression on me. I’d like to hear more about what you feel looking at the photographs, how you see life.” V told her.

She’d never heard such a thing before, she hadn’t grown up used to the idea that someone would want to hear her, to see her for who she was. To actually take stock in what she believed, and then here was this man, V, who wanted to hear her, who wanted to see her.

“Your thoughts made a big impression on me. I’d like to hear more about what you feel looking at the photographs, how you see life.” He explained, then realizing he asked. “Can I ask you your name?

“It’s Rika.” She said. V tilted his head.

“Is that your real name?” She sighed.

“No…”

His smile didn’t waver. “I’ll tell you my real name first. It’s Jihyun Kim, but everyone calls me V.”

Rika couldn’t have been certain, but that she felt was the moment she started to fall for him. V, the very embodiment of the sun she’d desired for so long, and now with him here she wanted to bask in his light. In his warm smile and kind eyes. She wanted to get lost in him.

She hadn’t expected things to go the way they did, yet she found herself falling for him, and falling hard. She wanted to always be looking at him, she wanted to lose herself inside him. In his embrace she felt her worries wash away. The darkness that had held to her since she was a child became easier to deal with. Once many years ago she would have likely rejected him, feeling safe to thrive in her own darkness, but with V? With V she wanted his warmth to take that all away. Rika wanted nothing more to fill herself with his light, to get closer and closer to him. She wanted to become something new, she wanted to become just like the light he was.

She felt this understanding in the peaceful moments, when they were just close to one another, or when they laid together in bed.

Light streamed in from the window behind their bed. Basking the whole room in a warm light. Rika stared at V, who was staring right back at her. His arms were holding her close, being so near to him she felt the warmth from him, both the one on her body, and the warmth in her soul.

Earlier that day she had been struggling, it felt as though there was a storm in her mind. With every part of her heart and soul aching, V had found her. Sitting on the kitchen floor, with tears falling down her cheeks.

She’d worried about his reaction but instead he held her. Whispering words of love to her. The ones that seemed to make her darkness subside, disappearing under V’s sunlight. Being in his arms she felt herself warm.

“Rika.” V said, laying in bed next to her. “Do you feel better?”

“I think so,” She’d said. “But I always feel better near you.” V’s gentle expression remained as his hand pulled locks of hair from her face and continued to admire her. He rested the palm of his hand against her cheek, the warmth of his hand matching the hotness on her cheeks.

“Rika, my darling.” V whispered and a soft tone. “May I ask you something?” Rika nodded to him.

“Yes V, what do you want to ask me?” He waited, seemingly thinking on how he wanted to phrase the question to her. Understanding the sensitivity of Rika’s own emotional state, but feeling a desire to have his question answered.

“You tell me my love is like the sun.” He started. “And, I am happy to love you as your sun forever, but I fear that sometimes. The sun is the mother of all, without the sun things can not grow, can not survive. Yet, the sun also can burn, it can grow cancer inside our bodies if we spend too much time in it.” V explained. Rika was listening attentively. Not seeming upset by his words. “So I fear that one day my love might burn you up, grow a cancer in you. I don’t think I could live with that.” Rika smiled, and shook her head.

She spoke in such a gentle voice that V couldn’t help but to believe every word she spoke. “V, my sun.” She cooed. “Your love is what warms me, what burns away the pain of my past. Your light drives out my own darkness.” She explained to him, she thought about her words next. “V, each day, you’d rise with me. Know that I would gladly be, the Icarus to your certainty. My sunlight” V found himself breathless, he found himself in that state often around her. Her words wrapped around his heart, making him only want to be closer to her, hold her tighter. Paint her heart and soul with his love the color of the sun.

“Rika.” He whispered. “If you wish me to be your sun. Then I will, I’ll ease the pain that still lurks in your heart. I’ll give you all the warmth you need, I promise you.” V said. He gently held her hand close to his chest.

“V, will you love me forever? Just like the sun?”

His eyes spoke what she could only see as the truth. “Forever, my beloved. Just like the sun in the sky. I’ll always be here.”

She believed him, every word. Whenever the doubt began to arrive she’d hold onto his words. She’d seek out his light and his comfort, the kind that starved the darkness inside her and made her feel light and good. Unlike the cursed child she’d been raised as.

As time passed she started to worry. Though with V she felt safe, she felt loved. There were seeds to doubt that began to dwell in the corners of her soul that V's light couldn’t even reach. Growing and thriving in her darkness, in that space she started to feel different. At the start the feeling was strange, and somehow all too familiar, but then it became comforting. Instead of filling her with light like V did. This feeling filled her with something else, it whispered promises of a painless life, of a paradise where she would never hurt again. Where she’d be loved, and never abandoned again.

The devil inside her told her something else. Something she once would have vehemently refused, but now. Feeling this newfound sensation in her, this voice that spoke to her very core.

V’s love was not salvation, it was not peace. What she needed to survive was the thing that kept her alive as a child. Not the love of the sun, but the seduction of the moon.

Oh your love is sunlight.

But it is sunlight.

II.Cherry Wine

V admired so much about his lover. He had found himself regularly struck silent by how beautiful she sounded when she spoke to him. Rika’s words always held this magic to them. A kind that he found himself enamored with every word she said. Every syllable was a gift, every phrase a spell over his heart.

Her words always held passion within them, unlike anyone else V had ever met. Rika spoke in beautiful metaphors, with such a great and beautiful understanding of the world that surrounded them. He felt he could listen to her talk forever, and so he learned to speak like her. So together they spoke in a strange tongue of metaphors and riddles that only they knew.

From the beginning of their relationship V had known about the tragedy his beloved Rika had endured. At times when she felt able, she had told him about her adoptive parents, about the orphanage she’d been in. How she had been rejected by everyone who had ever been around her. He’d felt so much pity for her, this poor thing who’d felt abandoned her entire life.

He’d tried to love her like the sun, just like he had promised her over and over. For a long time it seemed to make her happy, she smiled more, she seemed lighter and full of energy. They created the RFA together, gathering a group of their friends and others who they thought could make a difference in the world. From this, she seemed happier than ever.

V wasn’t sure when things changed. It didn’t feel like the switch of a light, or the snap of a finger. It was slow, so slow he didn’t truly notice what was happening until it all reached a certain point. Like a frog in water slowly coming to a boil.

Each day began to feel like he was walking on a wire. Rika’s emotional state started to deteriorate. However this time, unlike every time before she didn’t want his help. Instead she actively seemed to be trying to push him away.

“Rika please.” V said reaching for her. She slapped away his hand.

“You don’t understand!” She shouted. “You never understand!”

V’s hands shook, but he still tried to step forward. “Please, then help me understand. Let me help you.” Rika turned away from him but he kept trying to follow.

“Help? You don’t want to help me!” She whirled around to look at him, her eyes and words are so icy, but she burns like rum on a fire. Her anger is palpable, V couldn’t even remember how this argument had begun. All he knew was she was upset, and she wouldn’t let him near her.

“Rika, your idea, your plan it’s…” He thought out his words carefully. “It’s not right, you can’t save people that way.” V looked to the paper on the table, the one she’d shown him before. Rika’s newest idea for helping those in need, one he knew was dangerous.

“You’re just like the rest of them!” Rika shouted. You’re just like my parents, my step parents, everyone.” She said she wasn’t yelling anymore, but her words held so much contempt.

V shook his head, again trying to reach for her. “I’m not like them Rika. I love you, more than anything in this world. No, you are my world Rika, and I’m your sun. Right?” Rika paused, her anger changed to something else.

“If you say you love me V.” Rika looked at V, with him looking at her with those pleading bright eyes. “Can I test your love, make you prove that you mean what you say?” Rika stepped towards him. V nodded, falling down to his knees in front of her.

“You can test me every day Rika, I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always love you.” Rika looked down at him, her hands cupping his face to look at her and only her.

“What if I make you hurt every day? What if I torture you to the point you want to let go of my hand and leave?” V took a deep breath and nodded to her.

“I’ll stay. I won’t ever abandon you.” V and Rika stared into each other’s eyes. Seeking each other’s true feelings, what V found, was anger but also surprise. What Rika found was trust, and what she could only imagine was love.

Rika took a deep breath, her hand going to grab the back of V’s head. His eyes never left hers. He held his breath, expecting what could be coming. He didn’t close his eyes until he felt the impact.

The way she tells me I’m hers, and she is mine.

Jumin wasn’t one to pry into his friend’s life. He’d always known V as a private man, preferring to keep his own life closed off. Even to those he considered himself close with.

When V came to visit him. To share a bottle of wine, to talk about their lives. In the same way they had done for many years. He’d noticed the strange way V looked. While anyone else might not have noticed, Jumin noticed the strange way that V seemed to walk, how he kept his sleeves down and arms hidden from sight. Most of all, Jumin noticed the dark purple bruise on V’s face, that he tried to hide with his hair.

“Are you alright?” Jumin asked him after a glass of wine. A rare and expensive wine he’d been given as a gift, it didn’t taste bad, perhaps a bit too sweet for Jumin’s liking. Feeling a tad looser than he had before, he wasn’t afraid to question his friend. “You seem strange tonight V.” His friend looked over to him, also having drank a glass of wine already.

“I’m fine Jumin. Why do you ask?”

“You just seem odd tonight, and I know you well enough to know when something is wrong.” Jumin explained. Elizabeth the 3rd jumped up on the couch they were sitting on. Placing herself right between the two men. Seeking attention, which they both provided. “Also. I noticed the bruise on your face.”

V reached up his fingers covering it. “It’s from a hike I went on, I tripped over a tree root and fell on my face. Got a nasty bruise out of it.” He turned away to hide the bruise some more, which only made the feelings of concern worse. “It looks ugly, but it’s clean.” V said. Jumin hesitated but why would V lie to him? Jumin took another sip of wine to swallow the doubt in his throat. V was fine, it’s just a hiking injury.

That’s what he hoped, anyways.

Months later, Rika was angry again. This was more common now than anything else at this point. V still tried to help her, asking if there were things he could do, if he could hold her, encourage her, anything. She kept her distance from him, keeping him only continuing to beg for her. He hated seeing her in pain, but she wouldn’t engage with him, wouldn’t listen to him. Only her own words hitting her ears.

Finally, she broke down. The glass of water in her hand that V had given her was thrown against the wall, the glass shattering on impact and landing all over the floor. V grabbed her by the shoulders to move her away from the shards, not wanting her bare feet to be cut by it. However as soon as he touched her he was pushed back and to the ground.

“Rika?” He said she was standing over him now.

“Why do you keep doing this?” She hissed at him. “Why do you keep trying to care for me?” She yelled. V brought himself up to slowly stand.

“Because I love you. Because I want to care for you-”

“Liar!” She pushed him back down again. “You don’t care for me, all you do is pity me. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you stay.” V shook his head.

“No, I love you Rika. You know that, I love you.” V said, Rika stared at the broken glass on the ground, then at V. Her sun, her lover, kneeling to her. Opening himself up to her, she looked between the glass and him.

She looked into V’s eyes, the bright blues that she once thought could give her salvation. Now, they were staring at her, pleading. The look once would make her feel at peace, but now it just made her angier.

“You said I could test your love. That no matter what I did you would always stay?” V nodded.

“Always, just like the sun.” Rika walked towards the shards of broken glass littered on the floor. Taking one long jagged shard from the ground, she held it carefully in her hand, the edges digging into her skin.

V watched her, his heart raced but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t move an inch, and let Rika take him by the chin.

And it’s worth it, it’s divine. V thought as he felt the pain across his eyes. The last thing he truly remembers thinking.

He awoke the next morning with his eyesight still blurry. Even the lights in the house felt like too much. He tried to blink away the blurriness but found it to be no use. He stumbled around his house. He called out to Rika, but heard nothing back.

Based on what he could feel he assumed he was in the kitchen. He took a few steps deeper into the kitchen and hissed when his feet hit the broken glass from the night before. He reached out and managed to catch one of the dining chairs collapsing into it.

His hand grazed across a piece of paper. Taking it he forced his eyes to focus enough to read Rika’s handwriting.

I’m leaving. I can’t let anyone get in the way of paradise.

He had to tell the RFA something. He didn’t want them to know where she had gone, or what she was doing. So instead he felt it would be better if they believed Rika was no longer in this world. As far as V knew, Rika wasn’t the same person they knew. So in some ways, she was already dead.

She'd once told him, she'd be the Icarus to his sun. Sitting there V realized his love had done something to her, something that made her unable to go on. So like Icarus with wax melted, V told the RFA that she'd met the sea.

Oh but she looks,

Like sleep to the freezing.

III. Work Song

How had things gotten to this point? He thought. V’s mind was in and out while he was resting in that safehouse. The blankets pulled around him to keep him warm. He heard the sound of Luciel typing on his computer from the other room. But laying there he reflected on everything that had occurred up to that point, his mind kept replaying the moment he met Rika. Repeating over and over. He thought of how he fell in love with her,

He moved through their relationship piece by piece. He thought of their dates, their nights spent together, the RFA parties and the charity work. All of it mixed together in his mind. Those memories of their relationship now was such a stark contrast to what they had become. Through each memory he could recall the emotions he felt, how much he adored her, worshiped her. He thought about how beautiful she was to him, how just being around her he was so full of love he could barely eat. Rika had been so beautiful, but also so broken and hurt. All at once.

V pondered when things had changed. What moment became the starting mark for this dark road they were on. It had happened long before Rika left, was it even before she started therapy? Was the end even before she had first told him about her ideas of paradise? There was no moment that he could think of that truly changed everything for them. The only thing he felt was the feeling that those old memories no longer held the warmth they used to. The long mornings spent in bed felt foreign. The dates, the kisses, the proposal, none of it felt happy anymore. Only twinges of sadness and this heavy feeling in his chest.

“Please.” V asked the stranger who Luciel had called Vanderwood. “Can you help me with something?” Vanderwood raised an eyebrow at him while they leaned over him. From the corner of his eye he could see them. Watching him with those concerned eyes.

“I’m already helping you.” Vanderwood said.

“I need to go back.” V said. MC stepped forward, now their concern was showing in their face. “I need to stop her.” Vanderwood’s expression changed to one of complete disbelief.

“You want to go back to the woman who kidnapped you and drugged you.” Vanderwood stated. V nodded, Vanderwood glanced back to MC. Whose eyes stayed on V the whole time. V couldn’t look at them, he already felt guilty about Rika getting them involved. The last thing he wanted was to feel the guilt of leaving them.

V knew that returning to Rika meant that he would likely die. Rika made it clear that she had no interest in keeping him alive at Magenta, but maybe he could convince her to let him stay. Because, despite the pain he was in, even if he felt as if he was on the brink of death. He still wanted to go to her, go to the only home he seemed to know now.

“Yes.” V said. “Maybe I can convince her to end this.”

“There’s no reasoning with people like her.” Vanderwood said. “If she’s as bad as you say. Then there’s nothing you can say that will make her stop what she’s doing.”

“V.” MC said, they sat on the end of the bed by his feet. “You should treasure yourself more. You can’t just sacrifice yourself like this.” V thought on their words, about him learning to treasure himself more. To see himself as someone worthwhile, someone worthy of happiness and even forgiveness.

“Treasure myself?” V whispered. “Why should I treasure myself when I’ve done so many horrible things? When I’m such a monster?” MC’s face didn’t change, the same compassionate determined expression.

“You aren’t a monster V. You deserve to be safe, and to be happy.” MC said. Maybe it was the drugs, or the fever making his head feel dizzy, but somehow when they said those words. V believed them. When they told him he could be happy, he could live a good life, one away from Rika, from the chaos that surrounded them.

MC was always there. When he would wake up from a nightmare they’d be there to soothe him, when his fever spiked they made sure he was wrapped up in blankets and pressing a cold towel to his forehead, and when he felt at his lowest. When all he could think about was sacrifice. They never stopped comforting him, telling him he was worthwhile, that he was cared for, and he wasn’t alone. When they were near, V could almost feel hopeful, even if he could save Rika, with MC, he felt safe. In the low lamplight he was free. Heaven and hell were words to him.

As more time passed, V started to believe that maybe he could survive this. Perhaps this wasn’t the end of his life, and maybe it could even be the start of something new.

All that was left was Rika.

Seeing her again, in that forest V knew what he needed to say. Looking into her green eyes he didn’t feel the same pull towards her he did once.

“I loved you. I truly loved you.” Rika said. “Remember what I told you? I told you that one day I will hurt you. But you embraced me. You told me that this warmth and love we feel at this moment was real.” She said. She shook her head, tears in her eyes. It couldn’t be like this, she hated V, he’d tried to destroy her darkness and yet somehow she couldn’t let go of him. “I still love you.” Rika whispered, partially to herself. She grabbed the collar of his shirt pulling him close to her, his eyes holding nothing but pity for her. Not the warmth she used to see.

“Rika.” He said.

“If you’re not light, then I’m not darkness.” Rika said. “Tell me you’ll be my light. Please? You’re my light. You’re my sun, your love is the sunlight.”

“Rika.” V said. “I can no longer be your sun.” Rika shook her head violently. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How is it possible that he didn’t want her anymore? Was it as she had thought? Had he never loved her like she loved him?

“Please don’t leave me.” She begged. “You told me that if I’m sad you’re sad too.”

“Rika.” V tried to say.

“No! Tell me it was love. What we had together was love! Tell me your whole purpose of your life is me.” Rika cried.

“We’re the same Rika. We’re both traumatized. Back then that was all that mattered. But now, not anymore. It wasn’t love then or now.” Rika shook him, grasping his collar while she cried, crying for him to love her, to come back. To be her sun again, but her words fell flat. V didn’t hesitate or move, insisting that she needed to give up.

Rika let go of his collar and stepped away from him. Tears were going down her cheeks, her expression a bitter mixture of heartbreak and fury. “Then you leave me no choice. I should finish this, for both of us.” She reached behind her eyes not meeting V’s.

“Rika?” He asked, confused. V didn’t even realize what had happened until he looked down. Seeing Rika holding a bloody knife in her hands. Had she stabbed herself? Was she okay? He wanted to reach for her, if only to see if she was hurt.

“I stabbed him.” Rika said to herself. The realization then hit, V then felt the rush of pain, clutching his stomach, his hand becoming wet with his blood. He fell to his knees, wincing and gasping. Rika spoke to him, begging for him not to die, to live, even if only to be cursed by her. All he could think was to get her away from there.

“I won’t die. You know I won’t.” He struggled to say. Rika nodded, taking off and running back into the woods.

V held to his wound, his eyes screwed shut. He had to go, he had to get help. Even if the wound wasn’t too deep he knew that he would die if he wasn’t found soon.

He stumbled, trying to walk while clutching himself. His legs wobbled like jello and his entire body ached from pain and his fever. He didn’t stop though, he had to get back to the safehouse. To them, he had to make it back for them.

No grave can hold my body down.

I’ll crawl home to her.

IV. As it Was.

There is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved. V walked it carefully, careful not to slip on the mud and not to bother the flowers. He’d learned very early on that foxgloves were a great way to irritate his skin and make him itch. He adjusted the pack on his back, as he walked, feeling it slipping down his shoulders. Weighed down by his most recent grocery purchase from the nearby town.

He kept his eyes on the road, careful to walk on the edges in case someone was coming behind him. Some people would drive by in cars and he wanted to be out of their way, even on this dirt road drivers got grumpy at people walking in the middle of the pathway.

The cabin he was staying in wasn’t far from here, all he had to do was walk to the fork in the road, and then take the path that would lead him into the forest by the river. After a bit of walking that path he’d find himself back at home. If he’d chosen to take a car or bike he would have been back much faster. Sometimes, though it was nice to walk. Especially when the weather was nice like this, a walk couldn’t do any harm to him. Even if it did put him at light risk of being shouted at by a driver, or getting his boots muddy.

V put a lock of hair behind his ear, it was growing long again. He’d cut it a while ago when he was staying at this last place before he’d moved to this cabin but now it was starting to let too long again. Maybe he’d try and do it himself, avoid the unnecessary trip to the hairdresser in town. His stomach grumbled and he considered what he would prepare for dinner that evening. He’d probably cook with the newest groceries he got, also using some of the old stuff that needed to be used up.

Looking up at the sky the sun was starting to fall, over the mountains in the horizon and the air around him growing a bit cold. He should walk a bit faster, the last part of the walk was always miserable in the dark. Holding onto the straps on his backpack he sped up his pace, being more careful not to slip on the mud. Cleaning muddy boots was one thing, cleaning muddy clothes was another situation entirely to deal with.

The door to his cabin was creaky but he didn’t mind much. It still kept the warmth in and the cold out, and really that’s all it needed to do. He shed off his jacket putting it on the coat hook by the door. Letting his arms rest at his sides his hand brushed against his scar. Where Rika had stabbed him, the wound now healed, the only evidence left behind being the raised skin on his stomach to remind him. He took off his muddy boots, they would probably need to be rinsed and cleaned after dinner. The caked on mud bothered him quite a bit. He’d make his dinner, light a fire in the fireplace and later clean his boots and set in front of the fire to dry.

With dinner made and a crackling fire V ate the soup he’d made himself. The warmth felt good on his cold bones, it wasn’t winter yet but the cold still managed to sink itself into him. He’d set a bowl in front of one of the bedroom doors for his housemate. Though he knew he likely would stay in his room all evening. Still he was quiet when he watched the door open and the bowl get taken inside. As long as he was eating, that’s what mattered most to him.

The fire in the cabin reminded him often of that old safehouse. The memories now were often so fuzzy, but he remembered the sound of the fireplace, the feeling of warmth it gave when he had the chills. The sight of MC leaning over it to add more wood to fuel it. Promising to keep it going for him, her love was unmoved for him. .

Jihyun knew that there would always be a part of Rika in him. She was not someone easy to move on from. Yet he knew his heart no longer belonged to her, her influence no longer loomed over him. She was not his sun, or his moon or stars. To him Rika was nothing symbolic, only a person of his past.

He looked at the desk. The paper and his pen left out, he’d left the cabin today to send them a letter, but was it too soon to write them another one? Even if he didn’t send it now, or ever the feeling still made him feel at peace.

Finishing his meal he sat down at the desk. Looking over the small arrangement of photos and mementos he kept to look at. A photo of the RFA, an old newspaper photo of his mother when she was young, a picture of MC, and a pressed daffodil.

His mind went to Rika often, not as much it might have once but she still lingered in his mind and spirit. She appeared in his nightmares most frequently, but he still sometimes felt a softness towards her. Not necessarily a feeling of love, but one of goodwill. He knew very little about what had happened after he’d left. Only the few little snippets from Jumin who assured him that she was safe and unable to hurt anyone or herself.

Now his mind wandered again, this time to someone different. He found himself thinking about MC. His heart ached for them, for their comfort and presence. The desire to see them was often so strong that he struggled to see past the very moment he was living in. During those times he would take long breaths, try and rest, and remind himself that he’d see them again. Once it was time for him to come back.

First he needed to become his true self. Just as he was when he was born. Before the otherness came, all the strange influences on his life now that he could identify. He thought often of the elixir, the drug. The way it made him feel, and how it made his head fuzzy and his body ache. His mind would move to the dark, the symbol of Rika, and the darkness she always claimed to have inside her. He thought of himself, the light. The opposite of Rika, always lighting up the world around them. Finally he thought of them, the flame, who warmed him when he was cold, and shone so brightly against the darkness.

He wanted that flame, he wanted to be near them again. He still needed time, and in the meantime he could only pray that MC was still waiting for him. He pulled out another piece of paper and began his newest letter to them.

Tell me he wrote, if somehow some of it remains. How long you would wait for me? He wrote his heart into his letter, unloading all the thoughts that were collected in his brain. He wrote about his walk to town today, the muddy walk back. Everything he could think of.

He imagined his return, the way he would come home to them, and then he imagined everything that would happen from there. He imagined a life together, falling in love with them all over again. With his eyes closed he envisioned him sitting next to them, just talking about anything. No worry, no fear, just a feeling of peace and calm.

“Make your good love known to me.” He imagined telling them when he returned. “Or just tell me ‘bout your day.” Both thoughts made him happy and brought such a level of serenity to his soul.

As he finished the note to them, he wasn’t even certain if he would send it, but just the ability to write his thoughts was enough for him. He folded the paper and was careful in putting it into the envelope. He didn’t seal it just yet, he wasn’t ready for that.

Setting the letter down on the table he wrote their name on the front. He pushed the letter aside and opened the journal he kept, the pages were mostly filled with small doodles and thoughts he had. The pages are a sort of dumping ground for his abstract and racing mind. Turning to the last few pages he erased the number that he’d written the night before.

514. How many days since he’d last seen them. V wasn’t sure how much longer it would take before he knew it was time to go home. He had no return date, no plans just yet. However, sitting in that cabin in the woods. He had a good feeling, he wasn’t ready yet but looking back to his first pages in his journal. From when he first left, he knew he had already come a long way.

Just a little bit longer.

Whatever here that’s left of me is yours,

just as it was.

V. Like Real People Do.

Jihyun Kim was packing his bags. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling wide as he folded his clothes and put them into his suitcase. He’d done this so many times over the past two years but this time was different.

This time he was going home.

He’d bought his plane ticket, which he kept tucked in his coat pocket, and this time it wasn’t going to be cancelled. When the sun rose, he would get a car to the airport, and he’d be flying home.

Once his clothes were packed, except for the ones he would wear tomorrow and what he was wearing he moved the suitcase to be by the door. He walked through the cabin, taking it all in. Searching for anything that he might have forgotten or left in corners, but as he walked he seemed to find everything that he needed.

He knew he was going to struggle to sleep, the excitement just being too much for him. Still he knew sleep was what he needed most of all, he had a long flight ahead of him.

He covered himself with his blankets, trying to settle in for the night. Knowing that this would be the last night he’d ever spend in this bed. In his attempts to sleep his mind wandered, he thought of so many things. He thought of his time at the cabin, and all the other places he’d visited over the past two years. He remembered the art museums, the hikes, the small shops and restaurants he’d been to. Each one a memory he liked to return to in his mind. A memory he wanted desperately to tell them everything about.

Jihyun tossed and turned in bed, his mind never able to settle enough to let him fall asleep. After about an hour of struggling Jihyun pulled himself out of bed and to his suitcase, unzipping it just enough to pull out his journal and a pen.

Sitting back down he pulled the blankets back over himself. Sitting up in bed and turning on a light to see. Instinctively he turned to the last page, where the number had been again written and erased with the final number. 729 days. He smiled, knowing that tomorrow morning would be the last time he would rewrite it. He flipped back, the journal pages only empty near the back. Two years worth of drawings and thoughts were in here. It was about time for him to finish off this journal.

Holding the pen in his hand Jihyun started to write, he focused on what he was excited about. Being able to return home, going to the party, seeing his friends again, seeing them again. Finally being able to tell MC how he felt. All of those things made him smile.

MC. Thinking of them he had so many memories come back to him. He kept remembering that safehouse, and the time they spent together there. Leaning back his mind went to his conversation with MC in the forest. Where they’d embraced him, and told him that it was possible for him to start anew, and for him to learn to love himself.

He looked down at his paper, starting a note, full of questions and thoughts he had for MC. The things he worried me may forget if he let himself sleep before writing them down.

I had a thought dear, however scary. About that night the bugs and the dirt.

He wondered often about MC’s life. What had their life been like before he met them? While he never had the thought to ask them it was something he often wondered. What was their life like that they’d accept the offer of a stranger like they did?

Those wonders filled his head, but he wasn’t sure if he could ever ask them. Especially since they’d never asked him about his past either. They’d accepted what bits he told them, but never pushed further. Maybe, that’s what he would need to do with them too,

As strange at it was, thinking back on those days. He realized that maybe he understood MC better than he thought. Maybe they were more alike then they were different.

He finished writing his notes, writing until he’d finished the final pages in the notebook, and until his eyes were starting to close. He closed the journal and set it on the nightstand, his pen on top. Sinking back down into the mattress he closed his eyes, and after one long exhale. He was finally asleep.

Landing in South Korea was one of the greatest feelings Jihyun had ever felt. He hadn’t been in this airport for two years and standing here, he felt good. It was hard to hide his smile as he went through the motions, collecting his bags and waiting for a taxi to take him to where he was staying.

He’d decided to stay at a hotel that night. Even if he felt like a new man he wasn’t quite ready to go back to his old house on the cliffside. There were too many memories there, too much of Rika there. He knew he could handle it, but he didn’t want to deal with it just yet.

The taxi driver passed by the party venue on the way to the hotel. His eyes lingered on the venue as they went by. He knew he was feeling exhausted from the flight but something about knowing that MC was nearby made him excited. For the first time in two years, they were in the same city. Now it was all he could do not to try and find them now. To announce his presence right away, but he couldn’t. He had a plan and he knew waiting would be worth it.

Hours ticked down in his head, he silently counted down the time until the party began. Every second bringing him a little bit closer to when he’d finally be able to walk through those doors. See his friends again, see them again.

Jihyun Kim walked into the party venue. He’d gone in through the back doors, using his old RFA badge to get past the security guards Jumin had placed there. He walked into the party hall, his eyes taking in the decorations, the food being handed out by servers, the champagne flutes, the amount of party guests who chatted and wandered around the hall. He stood still for a moment, just admiring all of it.

His eyes scanned the party guests, until he saw them. Standing alone, watching the guests wander and mingle. His heart jumped at the sight of them, they looked a bit different, two years awas a long time after all. Yet they still had the same smile, the same warmth, and made him feel the exact same way.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.” He said once he was standing beside them. MC broke into a grin upon his entrance, a look the most beautiful mixture of surprise and joy. “Congratulations, MC.”

“V?” They stuttered out.

“It’s Jihyun Kim now, long time no see.” He said. Staring at them, Jihyun found himself continuing to speak. He told them about his time away, spilling all of his feelings out to them. They listened, taking in his every word with their bright smile. As he spoke he wasn’t even listening to himself, in his mind he remembered those first times he’d met them. Remembering the connection they’d shared together. A connection and understanding that had once felt sad, but now felt joyful.

He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped talking until he heard their voice.

“I love you too, Jihyun.” They said. He stood and watched them, the smile on his face the biggest he could make it. He felt like his heart could beat out of his chest from how happy those words made him. “Jihyun?”

He shook his head to center himself then looked at them again. “I’m okay, I’m just. So, so happy.” He wrapped his arms around them, holding them as close and as tight as he could without hurting them.

“I missed you, so much.” MC said. “I’m so happy you’re back.”

“I’m happy I’m back too.” Jihyun whispered. They released each other but Jihyun moved his hands to cup their face, although he hated thinking about her at that moment. He kept thinking about something Rika had said.

“He didn’t look like the sun… but like a human being. A living and breathing human being.” She’d said, now looking at them he understood. With MC, he wasn’t the sun and they weren’t Icarus. They were human, they were Jihyun and MC.

And they were in love.

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips.

We should just kiss like real people do.

VI. Jackie and Wilson

Once upon a time there was a boy named Jihyun. Who after a devastating loss hid himself in a disguise he called V. He hid for many years, fighting his true nature to try and find his way through the world. Through a series of traumas he’d disappeared further and further into V. Until he met his angel, who laughed their way through his feeble disguise. Now there was no other version of him he would rather be. Because lord they found him just in time.

The first time Jihyun had met the love of his life, it hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. So now, he felt so blessed that every moment he spent with them felt like a dream come true.

Once his life had been full of metaphors and obsession. The unrelenting worship of the sun, a belief in perfect love. Now, his life was full of real solid things, the sun was just a ball of gas, love was complicated, and messy but so, so worth it. His life was by no means perfect, but it felt real. Even if it wasn’t the picturesque love he’d once dreamed of, he had everything he could ever want, he had his family in the RFA, his passion in his art, and the love of his life to wake up next to every day. He wasn’t sure how life could be much happier.

There were tough moments, even after two years away sometimes things would come up. He’d grown to hate the dark, always needing some kind of light. Certain phrases would put him on edge. Mostly, he struggled with nightmares.

One night he’d woken up in a cold sweat, his heart felt like a jackhammer and tears were slipping down his cheeks. He couldn’t even remember what had happened in his dream, he just knew it was enough to make him feel ill.

He focused on staring at the cactus night light plugged into the wall. He was fine, he was safe, he could see, everything was okay. Right?

“Jihyun?” MC’s muttered. Beside him he felt the blankets shift and MC sit up next to him. “Babey are you alright?” He looked at them, their sleepy eyes focused on him. Although half awake their eyes held concern and worry. Their hand rested on his shoulder. He reached up to hold their hand.

“Just a nightmare.” He said.

“A bad one?”

“I think so.” MC pulled him into their arms. His head resting on their shoulder while one of their hands rubbed his back and the other ran through his hair to soothe him. He took long breaths, his heart slowed to a natural rhythm.

“It’s just a nightmare Jihyun, you’re safe I promise.” He nodded into their shoulder, the feeling of their arms around him and the scene of their body wash keeping him present. “Do you want to talk about it?” Jihyun shook his head.

“No, I’m okay.” Jihyun said. “I think I just want to sleep again.” MC nodded above him, They laid back down and held their arms out to him. Jihyun leaned back resting his chest on their chest while their arms went around him.

MC’s voice was rough but sweet. “I’m right here, I’ll keep you safe.” Jihyun closed his eyes again, the sound of MC’s heartbeat lulling him back into a dreamless sleep.

Speeding down the coastline highway Jihyun drove with all the windows rolled down. The wind tousled Jihyun’s hair and stung at his skin. Out of the corner of his eye he saw MC with their arms out the window, their hair also being messed up from the wind. They didn’t seem to mind, enjoying the cool wind against their skin.

Together they learned they loved roadtrips. Just spending hours with each other in a car heading towards any destination. There was something about them that made Jihyun’s soul feel lighter. Considering his past, he’d never had a chance to travel like this and now he that he could. He couldn’t get enough, but now that was all behind him, his mid youth crisis all said and done. Now these adventures gave him something he needed desperately. He needed to be youthfully felt, cause God he never felt young.

“We should go on an adventure.” Jihyun had said days ago, he sat on the couch with MC leaning against him. Their head on his shoulder and holding gently to his arm.

“What type of adventure?” Jihyun thought for a moment, a puzzle on the bookshelf giving him an idea.

“Let’s go to the beach, it’s been a long time since we last went down there.” MC’s eyes sparkled with excitement and possibility.

They nodded. “Only if we can go to dinner at that one place we went to last time. The food there was incredible.” Jihyun leaned down and kissed their forehead, a smile on his face.

“Of course, anything for you my darling.”

Jihyun parked his car in town. Only a short walking distance away from the beach. Jihyun grabbed his backpack where he kept a few towels and other things for their adventure. Taking the hand of his lover they embarked on their adventure together, both with tender smiles on their faces.

They wandered around the town popping into shops selling novelty jewelry and beach related items. They bought each other small gifts, a keychain, a silly hat, truly anything that reminded them of each other. Each one a small symbol of affection.

The beach was mostly empty that day, the cool breeze rustling their clothes. They both took off their shoes in order to walk through the sand and feel the sand sink in between their toes.

“I can’t believe I forgot my camera.” Jihyun said, searching through his backpack. “I never forget it.” MC laughed, a sound that could always lift his spirits.

“Maybe it’s not a bad thing, just enjoy the moment Jihyun.” He squeezed their hand.

“But what if I want to capture this moment? So that way I can remember it forever and ever?” Jihyun asked. MC stopped walking and turned to look at him. Taking both of his hands in theirs.

“Just memorize it in your mind. And there will be plenty more beach trips in the future.” Jihyun sighed, holding his hands tight.

He closed his eyes and after a deep breath opened them again, like a camera shutter he captured this moment to his memory. His lover with their hair blowing in the wind, eyes locked with his. He captured the feelings of their hands holding his, of the sand on his feet, the way the wind was moving his white shirt. All of it memorized and locked into his memory.

“Let’s keep walking.” MC said. “So that way you can capture more moments.” Pulling his hands they continued their walk on the sand, walking down the beach.

They’d stopped once the sun had started to set. Jihyun laid down a blanket for the two of them to sit on. MC’s back rested against his front. His arms holding him around their waist. They watched the sky as it started to turn a variety of colors, red, orange, pink with dark hues of blue slipping in.

A comfortable silence held between them. Both too captivated by the setting sun to think about much else. After a long while Jihyun spoke.

“MC?” They lifted their head to look at them.

“Yes?”

“Do you think about the future much?” MC raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean the future?”

“Like our future?” MC made an ‘o’ shape with their mouth. They didn’t take very long to answer him.

“All the time.” MC said. Jihyun shifted to hold them a little closer.

“And what do you think about? When it comes to our future?”

MC thought for a minute, trying to sort out all their thoughts. Over time so many of them had piled up it was hard to condense them into any kind of simple answer.

“I imagine a future together. One that’s peaceful, and full of joy. Where we grow old and go on millions of adventures together. A future where the past stays in the past.” MC explained. Jihyun smiled. “I think about our wedding, walking down the aisle. Jumin is the best man, the rest of the RFA in the wedding party.” MC lifted their hand to admire the engagement ring there. A silver band with a blue gem in the center.

Jihyun pressed his face into the crown of their head, lifting it just enough to ask another question.

“Do you see children? In our future?” He asked. MC smiled, staring at the sunset.

“Besides our favorite twins?” MC joked. Jihyun laughed, breathy and warm.

“Besides our first two, do you see children?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“Yes. I do.” Jihyun said, the smile coming out in his tone of voice.

“I see us with two kids, I see one who we adopt. Just like you adopted the twins but maybe more official.” MC laughed. “Then maybe one we create. I imagine a little boy or girl with your hair and maybe my eyes.” They said. “What do you think of that?”

Jihyun grinned. “I love it, I want that future for us.” MC sat up turning around to face Jihyun. They kissed him, their hands resting on his shoulder and neck. Jihyun leaned in to deepen the kiss, his arms on their waist to keep them close.

When MC pulled away they whispered to him. “I love you Jihyun. I can’t wait to have our future together.” Jihyun pulled them in for one more lingering kiss.

When he broke away he stood up, walking towards the ocean. MC stood up too, following a little behind him. Jihyun stopped when the water started to lap at his feet. The sand is cool and hard. With the setting sun lighting his silhouette Jihyun looked like an angel, MC was breathless stopping a little away from him. His eyes gleamed in the light of the setting sun. With a warm smile he reached his hand out to his lover.

“MC.” He said. “I once told you I wanted to paint a future with you.” MC nodded. Remembering that fateful party long ago. “I want to paint that, and I want it to be a painting that is never finished.”

“Me too.” MC said, though their voice was barely audible.

“So, let’s go. Let’s go towards our future.”

With a tender smile MC reached out and took his hand. Stepping to be nearly chest to chest with him.

“Let’s go towards our happy ending.”

We’ll name our children Jackie and Wilson.

Raise ‘em on rhythm and blues.

#mystic messenger #mysme #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #v x mc #jihyun x mc #v #mysme v #mysme jihyun #fanfiction

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space-blue · 4 years ago

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Portrait of an Artist in Love

9th competition win. It's a love letter to the world of Love Death + Robot's "Good Hunting" episode.

There is a motto within our guild:

'Your client is your Art.'

It dictates our rules, weaves itself into our practices, shapes our pride, and though our clients are made to understand its impact, the phrase itself is not spoken to outsiders. It is a tenet, a pillar of our teachings, an invisible chain around our wrists. A chain I wonder if inspector Merig has come to tug.

'You are a popular biomata craftsman and a respected guild member, Dr. Parahi,' he says, clearly fishing for a reaction. 'A true artist among steamwrights, I'm told.'

'Inspector, what is this visit about?'

'Just a few questions, if you please. Are you aware of the series of murders that have happened in the Kublai and Kodenshi districts?'

I smile tightly. So, this is about her after all.

'I do read the papers. Even if I didn't, the guild keeps us appraised of such... events as might disturb our work.'

'When did you first become aware of the killings?'

'After the one that happened at the Proctor's party. Since that was only a district over, everyone here was made aware of the case. No one knew then that it was serial.'

'We still don't know for sure,' the inspector says, pulling photographs out of a battered folder, 'but they all have a few things in common.'

He pushes the glossy black and white photographs forward. I find myself oddly surprised. The content might be gruesome, but the police department has a talented photographer on their payroll. All the bodies are angled to showcase the gaping injuries. They lay sprawled in pools of grey, blood diluted in hydrofill, I suppose.

'They were all either augmented or full biomata. They are all missing parts. A lot of parts.'

'Oh, please. Are you suggesting a guild member is behind this? Me, even? No self respecting craftsman would destroy someone else's work like that. Particularly not in such a barbaric fashion.'

'No, rest assured,' inspector Merig says, placating, 'we've already sorted things with your guild concerning alibis. At least in your case.'

Nothing in our code states that we should not try to help the police. There is, however, no incentive for me to volunteer information, and so I stare at him in expectant silence.

'Do you ever work on automata, Dr. Parahi?'

'Never. All of my work is meant for live grafting.'

I wave a hand to encompass the atelier space all around us. The copper and ivory limbs showcased at the forefront all are to exhibit taste and designs. The hands made of tantalum, titanium and tungsten, laid out on the cabinet to our left, are where the craftsmanship is on display. It is all a front, a showroom, as it were, despite the small workbench. That one is for clients in need of repairs or simple cosmetics. There is no automata on display or in use. It would constitute false advertisement in such a curated room.

'Would one be able to craft an automata out of parts taken from such victims?'

I feel a shiver run down my spine at the question. Surely, the real one will soon follow. It takes some effort to maintain the appearance of nonchalance, to not trigger the whirring of my knee joints with an anxious shift, to ignore the weight of the stare of my ancestors, perched in their gilded frames on the wall at my back. Six generations of steamwrights silently judging the last practising scion of their house, readying his lies.

'Of course,' I say, inclining my head with a smile, a show of scholarly indulgence. 'Depending on what they wanted to build. If needed, you could smelt and reforge to fit–well, depending on the material. The only thing you cannot transfer or reuse are the tubing and the cores. The engine needs are completely different, and automata don't require hydrofill. Anyone savvy enough can do this. It is not even considered guild work.'

'What about building biomata with them?'

Here it is... And what can I say? It is another tenet of ours that you should never deny a client the components they bring you. Our work is... a communion, a shared vision. A concept I highly doubt officer Merig would ever understand or appreciate. I look at him studiously as I mull over my answer, though there is nothing of interest to look at. He is what is derogatorily referred to in the milieu as a "meatbag". There is no Art to him. Not even a glimmer of cosmetic copper-gold, ivory or amber, not a whisper of inner mechanism, no murmur of churning steam.

'Obviously it can be done,' I answer, keeping up with the affable professor persona. 'People often inherit parts from deceased relatives and have legacy work done to integrate them. This would not be very different, except the guild is usually involved in the original disassembling process.'

'Could you tell the parts were taken by force, if someone presented them to you?'

'Not necessarily,' I reply, lying through my teeth. In for a copper, in for a silver: 'There are shunts that can be activated to section off limbs cleanly. If these were used, the limb would look as neat as if I'd taken it off the donor myself.'

I tap a ringed finger at one of the photographs, one of the more gruesome ones, as one of the parts removed was the insulation polysheet around the steam core.

'Providing materials has always been a popular way to offset the cost of the operations for our clients. However some of these parts you simply can't smelt or play pretend with. Anyone within the guild would know and call the police. This looks more like trophies to me, it's so pointless otherwise.'

Inspector Merig strokes his bearded chin. Though he appears to be considering my point, his lack of surprise makes me think the idea is not new to him.

'Could someone be out there,' he asks, 'someone not from the guild, enhancing themselves, or someone else, with the parts taken from the killings?'

I smile indulgently at this.

'Inspector Merig. Surely you realise setting a steam core engine inside a living being is nothing like automata work? You need to be a talented surgeon for the client to even survive. The creation of a biomata is Art in its truest form, combining medicine, metallurgy, jewellery, design, engineering, fine tuning more precise than clockwork, and the mastery of the gods' greatest gift: steam. Most of the processes involved are guild secrets too. If someone is out there trying to fiddle with an existing biomata without the proper training...' I tap my chin, thinking, hoping to sell it. 'It's possible... At least they could try. But the guild would take it about just as well as if the imperial botanists heard someone was growing Telura on their roof garden.'

Inspector Merig snorts at the comparison.

'Still, why come to me? Surely all of this could have been explained to you at the guildhall?'

'You came highly recommended. Most popular in the district, I was told.' Merig waves his gloved hand to encompass the shop and its shining collection of limbs and skeletal constructs. 'Certainly looks like it to me.'

There is a certain quality to the man's expression. The way his jaw is set, the tension around his eyes. It is a cousin to the apprehension I see in so many faces lying down on my workbench. A sort of uncertainty. It occurs to me then that maybe Inspector Meatbag here has been given a case in which he will forever be out of his depth. Maybe it's a test, maybe it's a punishment. All it means for me is opportunity.

'Ah, you want help identifying the makers of the missing pieces?'

'Yes. I hope you might also be able to tell me if you've seen any such parts in recent months.'

'I certainly can do that,' I offer, 'but the best person to consult remains the creator of the parts themselves.'

'That might not be possible. You see, all the parts we could trace back to a steamwright led back to a certain Dr. Asiheu, who has been missing for some time.'

'Wait a second... You mean several of the victims were clients of the same steamwright?'

Inspector Merig nods gravely as he spreads more pictures of close-ups on the table and takes notes as I systematically fail to remember ever seeing anything relevant, but offer several names for him to go and consult. It is my honest opinion that the woman first killed in Kodenshi had her work done by someone from the Eastern branch. By the time the Inspector rises again, shakes my hand and heads out with promises of 'being in touch', I am mentally exhausted. I lean against the locked door and lowered blinds, catching up on breath I've never run out of. In the darkened shop I make my way back to the table. I push the lever, one my grand-father so distastefully hid in the branch of a candelabra, and watch the slab of carved stone shift to reveal the staircase to the actual workshop, the one with my tools, the operating workbench and steam reactor.

I can almost feel it at my wrists, the invisible pull Linia has on me, my greatest work of Art.

She lays sprawled on the workbench, like a sultry painter's muse. We have another saying, more informal, that states that a client is never closer to perfection than when the world starts to doubt their humanity. She unfurls herself, titanium plates slithering over carved mother-of-pearl, tantalum rib cage pressing darkly against translucent syndermis, revealing the hydropump's viscous throbbing and the soft glow of her steam core, nestled under her heart. I reach out, brushing strands of hair back from her angular face, fingers gliding over the grooves and embossments etched as verdant jungle ferns across the planes of her brass temples.

'You heard.'

'I did,’ she murmurs against my palm. ‘They’ll never find Asiheu... But it seems I now own you as much as you own me.'

'You owned me from the start,' I say, chiding, and watch her eyes crease in her characteristic smile, the very same she gave me when she first came to me, a mangled toy with very little figure left to her, and figure, in steamwright lingo, refers to meat. Hers was a jigsaw of swollen, septic flesh, patch-worked with steel junk. She had no left arm, her jaw springs were slack and rusting, her hydropump was overheating her innards... She was a mess, a mockery of the Art. A malicious garage job.

'Who did this to you?' I asked.

She'd smiled with her eyes alone–blue eyes like windows into fields of ice that never thawed–arced into cold crescents. She lifted a sack and laid it across the counter between us, the mouth of it parting to reveal the bronze glimmer of joints, rubber fingertips and polycarbon tendons. I'd sealed my fate right then, by hastily gathering up the strings of the bag and reaching to the lever that would lock the atelier's door.

'Come. We can talk once I've given you some first aid.'

I'd seen the blood on the metal-composite fingers. I knew then, and every time thereafter, but she'd offered herself to me in full–this monster, this killer–to be my creation, if only I would make her perfect with the spoils of her vendetta.

And I was ever the perfectionist...

~~ September 2020 – Theme : Steampunk

#original story #original work #competition #win #steampunk #fantasy

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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825

All About the Letter E

Please List! (at least one)

Animals I Like: Elephants! And emus, mostly because of the Emu War I had watched a video about recently.

Foods I Like: Eggs. All kinds of them. I also like Eggs Benedict, empanadas, eggplants, eclairs, escargot, and I loooove eel.

I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Editor, editorial assistant, editor-in-chief - surprise surprise, I’m a journalism student haha.

I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Egypt and Ethiopia. I also want to go back to El Nido in Palawan.

Sometimes I Feel: Excited, enthusiastic, but mostly embarassed.

Music I Listen To: Ed Sheeran, Eraserheads, Ella Fitzgerald.

Movies I’ve Seen: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Eraserhead, Emperor’s New Groove, Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Ex Machina (the first ten minutes of it anyway), Eyes Wide Shut.

Names I Like: Emilia, Emma, Elliott, Ezra, Eden, Elizabeth.

And now, onto the random questions!

Do you believe in equality? Of course. Reeeally big on it too.

Early to bed or early to rise? Mmm, neither honestly. I sleep way too late to the point of it being unhealthy, which means I don’t get up particularly early either.

Are you early or late for appointments? I get to the venue early, then show up exactly on time.

Have you ever had an ear infection? I have not. I imagine that would majorly suck though.

Do you go see an eye doctor? This implies that I do it regularly, so no. I did have to visit one when I still could because my left eye would feel like there was something stuck inside of it and it hurt to blink. The eye drops prescribed to me didn’t really help and would only provide short-term relief, but I never got to go back and have my eye re-checked cause we were under lockdown by then. Occasionally I’d still get spells of being irritated.

How many earrings do you wear? None. I ruined my left ear piercing years ago so I’ve had to stick with clip-ons, but I haven’t worn any in a while because I’ve lost most of them, because I’m terrible at being organized with such tiny things lol.

Do you care about the environment? How do you help the Earth? Yes, I reduce and recycle whenever I can; I’m very particular about segregating my trash; I save on paper by always folding a page in half if I have to fill it up; and as icky as it is I always pick up trash at public places when I see it – I’ve since had Gabie pick up the habit too. How often do you exercise? Do you go to a gym or do it on your own? The only exercise I get is going on short strolls with Kimi. I do it for leisure, not for workout-y purposes. I did have a rigorous PE class last sem where we’d have to do like 50 pushups, 30 pullups, five-minute planks, lifting 80-lb barbells, etc every meeting and it was honestly a lot of fun; but I was never able to maintain the exercises we did once the class ended.

What are your favorite things to eat? Unhealthy things like cheeseburgers and corndogs, ~fancier desserts~ like macarons and eclairs, savory food like ramen and curry, and seafood. My tastes are all over the place, lmao.

Do you know anyone who is pure evil? I know shitty people, but ‘pure evil’ is pushing it.

Do you get along with everyone? Not always because I can be quite vocal and that doesn’t sit well with some people; and it’s usually easy to tell if I don’t like someone even if I act civil. I always try my best to be friendly though.

Do you have a certain routine that you go through every day? Yes. I need my routines otherwise my anxiety will absolutely blow up. Spontaneity is fine with me but not when it comes to this.

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost everything? Yup.

Is there anywhere you’d like to explore? The rest of the world. For the most part, there’s no place I’d say no to going.

Elevators or escalators? Escalators because at least it’s in an open area, and if it breaks down I can just go up or down as if it were stairs.

What do you do in the evening? Dinner, play with Kimi and now Cooper, and I usually take my surveys by evening. Sometimes I’ll make a cup of coffee too.

Have you ever been evaluated for anything before? Yes, both as part of a group and just me, individually.

What’s the worst you’ve ever done on an exam? I got the lowest possible grade that my old school offered once or twice. In college, I once got something like a 40/100 in an economics class HAHAHAH

Are you easily exhausted? No, as long as the weather cooperates. If it were hot and humid I’d be a lot more sluggish.

Do you like visiting exhibits? Depends on the subject. < Same. I wouldn’t go to an exhibit that would get too technical on engineering, for one.

Have you ever felt exiled? I’ve felt that in my home many times.

Have you ever felt like everybody was talking about you? Yeah, but I don’t feel like opening up that can of worms right now since it’s a complicated story lol.

Have you ever entered through an exit sign or exited through an enter sign? I’m sure I have.

How have humans evolved over time? In a lot of ways. We’ve lost some tiny body parts, changed our mindsets on stuff like slavery, changed up our fashion sense, removed and added words from/onto our vocabulary, developed our cuisines, etc. I highly recommend Bill Wurtz’s ‘history of the entire world, i guess’ video haha.

Would you ever consider eloping? No. Not to sound ignorant, but I genuinely mostly don’t know what that entails since it’s not really a part of our culture. One thing’s for sure though, I wanna get married with a bunch of people watching.

If you could erase one mistake from your past, what would it be? I wouldn’t call it a mistake because it was who I am at the time...but I hate the fact that my college experience is forever stained with how much I sulked during my freshman year.

When’s the last time you’ve used email? How about sending something through the mail in an actual envelope? For email, it was like a week ago when I had to reply to a company emailing our org to endorse their internship opportunities. I don’t think I ever sent anything to anyone through mail...? I’ve written handwritten letters, but I personally gave them to the person it was meant for.

Do you dye eggs at Easter time? Nah we only did that once.

Is the glass half empty or half full? Depends on the situation, for me.

Have you ever had elbow macaroni before? Sure! My favorite recipe is Mama Lou’s truffle mac and cheese. Soooooo savory and so, so unfairly good.

Have you ever fractured or dislocated your elbow? Never. That sounds awful. I’ve seen arm wrestling matches go wrong and those were bad enough. Do you know how long an era or an eon is? An era is dependent on events, isn’t it? Like the hippie era, the grunge era, etc. My understanding is that they are socially defined and therefore don’t have a set time period. I believe an eon is an very long but unspecified amount of time. I’m trying to remember this without Googling, so I could be wrong, but those are my interpretations of the words. < There ya go. It’s a little too late in the night for me to be up for defining either in my own words haha.

Do you chew the Extra brand of gum? I don’t think so. I don’t think we have that here.

When was the last time someone showed empathy towards you? Few weeks ago when I was horribly sick and dad willingly took care of me, gave me sponge baths, and listened to every single one of my requests.

Did you have an Elf on the Shelf growing up? No. I’m not sure I know what that is.

Is your bedtime closer to eight or eleven? Eight...AM. :(((

Would you go around the world in eighty days? Nah I’d want to stop in too many places. You can’t see a country in a day. < True. While I was very much in love with my cruise vacation, it also meant that I just had an afternoon to explore as much as I can of South Korea and Japan. And I wish I had more time in both places.

Did you turn eighteen in high school, or afterwards? Shortly afterwards. My graduation was in March, I turned 18 by April.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

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softlywithhissong · 6 years ago

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I’m calling bullshit on your hate.

STOP STEREOTYPING SANGWOO FANS!

I am a Sangwoo fan. I am also a Bum fan. A strange dichotomy, I know.

Both of these characters exhibit problematic behavior, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a fan of them, either individually or simultaneously. Does being a fan of either of these characters mean that you support these damaging behaviors in real life? NO. Calling out people who support REAL LIFE crimes is fine, but calling out people who are trying to enjoy being a fan of a FICTIONAL character IS NOT OKAY. You are clearly not helping real life people by doing so. You are being judgemental and self-righteous, shaming people to feel superior and patting yourself on the back for it. You not only contradict yourself several times, but you also act entitled to hate real people for liking something you personally don’t, have the arrogance to proclaim what the author “better not” do, and wish ill on real people. The hypocrisy is appalling. Do you not see the irony? You are not protecting people from real life abuse BY HATING ON REAL LIFE FANS of a fictional character. You are in fact engaging in verbally abusing real life people. It doesn’t matter what the character does; it’s fiction. Are there real people existing out in the big wide world who do crimes or support criminals? Yes, but to generalize, stereotype, and basically accuse FANS of being as bad as the people who do this or to conflate us and lump us together is disgusting, illogical, and highly offensive.

How can we “still stan his ass / this ship”? We can because the beauty of fandom is that you get to pick and choose what you like. You get to twist it up, turn it inside out, and make it into an AU parody of itself. ART IS SUBJECTIVE. It’s about what individual thing each and every one of us found gut wrenching or what pulled at our heartstrings. Don’t invalidate what other people found or resonated with just because it’s not the same thing you did. People fear different things. People emphasize, magnify, and conversely minimize different things based on what concerns each of us individually. That’s okay and people shouldn’t be shamed for having a different opinion. After all, being a fan is a form of opinion. And opinions are not facts. Don’t confuse the two; you holding an opinion does not make your opinion a fact.

Fiction is about emotional catharsis. It doesn’t matter that stealing a car or killing a dog are not crimes worthy of the death penalty in real life - I wanted to see John Wick kill all those fuckers for killing that little puppy.

And NOT ALL MEDIA should have a healthy or happy ending. Was Romeo and Juliet’s double suicide a healthy ending? NO. It was a tragedy! Tragedies have an important place in media. They often serve as cautionary tales. If you want another cliched boring “bad guy dies/goes to jail” ending, WHY ARE YOU SHAMING FANS WHO WANT SOMETHING DIFFERENT? You have an endless supply of your preferred ending. Go watch one of the thousand CSI/detective/cop procedural shows. They are everywhere. While I enjoy psychological thrillers (AS RARE AS THEY ARE), I am also a fan of some great detective shows and murder mysteries. I could recommend so many fantastic ones. But some of us want a unique ending for Killing Stalking, even if that means something “unhealthy” by real life moral standards. It was labeled a psychological thriller, after all. Not a mystery. Not a detective story. It was also labeled BL, and even if it gets a twisted/unhealthy ending because of the psychological thriller genre, it still qualifies because twisted BL is still BL.

I do not excuse Sangwoo’s abusive treatment of Bum. I’m often disappointed and angry on Bum’s behalf. And while I find it difficult to believe canon Bum would be in a healthy relationship with anyone (and I would love to make a post about how I see his fondness for frogs as symbolism for his relationships), I still have the ability to enjoy the possibilities of a healthy fanon-based relationship or even appreciate the grim take of a tragic and/or twisted unhealthy ending. This is how I still ship Sangbum in certain contexts, but not always, because context matters and it depends. I know that sentence sounds ridiculous, but that’s how it works! Because it’s OKAY TO SHIP FICTIONAL UNHEALTHY SHIPS. Because it’s fiction. And if people can vent their issues through the written word in order to not do so in real life, good. Many people find reading/writing therapeutic. Some authors write a lot of problematic behavior as angst. Do they deserve hate? NO. There are plenty of instances when I have shipped a healthy ship but not shipped it (and in fact wanted them not to end up together) in certain fics because I felt the fic had portrayed an unhealthy relationship. But did I send hate to the author of that fic when that ship ended up together anyway? NO. Just because it ended in a way I didn’t like didn’t give me or anyone else the right to spread hate or shame over a fictional story.

Also, as a Bum fan, I do not appreciate seeing any victim blaming of Bum. There’s some out there (including your despicable “Bum better not” comment), but at least this hate is not anywhere near the amount of Sangwoo hate. As a fan of both characters, I can see that there is clearly so much more Sangwoo hate out there. And it’s fine to criticize, dislike, or even hate Sangwoo as a character, but it’s NOT OKAY to hate on his fans. He is a fictional character, but his fans are real people.

I am a fan of Sangwoo because he is an intriguing, complex, and well-written character. He’s got flaws. All characters do. And I understand his flaws are pretty damn big. But I understand that he’s a fictional character. I would never support a real person committing such crimes or abuse. So, frankly, while you may find my being a fan “annoying” - I will not be shamed or hated upon.

To quote my sister, “In the safety of fiction, we can deconstruct the complexities of what’s morally gray.”

In other words, exploration through FICTION, discussion, and debate are welcome. Hateful posts are not.

This is a long post, so I’ll put my further calling bullshit on arguments made by haters behind a “Keep Reading” link:

Also, the criticisms for being a fan because of “fetishizing gay men” are bullshit. Firstly, anything anyone finds hot could be labeled “fetishizing” which is ridiculous. Secondly, some fans are gay men who are not “fetishizing” - they are simply enjoying the story even if it is twisted. (It’s okay to be a fan of a story that portrays an unhealthy relationship; not every story is meant to be a moral standard.) But also, this bullshit argument is just reducing people down to a ridiculous stereotype used to stifle women in fandom. This has been used through the ages and it is wrong. Are there possibly straight women out there objectifying gay men the way straight men would objectify gay women? Yeah, there’s probably some. But I’ve been in fandom a LONG time and this is not representative of fans in general, let alone all female fans. How about you let women consume all forms of media they find identifiable, cathartic, containing unique storyline with complex flawed characters, or even (gasp) entertaining? Stop shaming people. And maybe especially - don’t resort to misogynistic tropes to do so. I think it’s safe to say that fans (including female fans) generally tend to be a fan for more than just a character’s appearance and body parts. There’s usually character traits, personality quirks, things that draw you to go beyond casual reading/watching into becoming a fan.

Personally, I identify with stories portraying gay relationships equally as much if not more than with stories portraying heterosexual relationships. Maybe that’s because I’m bisexual, but I don’t think so. I believe that straight people can also find themselves identifying with the story and the struggles portrayed - no matter what the sexual orientation of the pairing portrayed.

You think I only like portrayals of gay men rather than women? No, I like both. Killing Eve is a fantastic example of a fandom that I would love to see grow! I despair at how small the fandom is compared to my usual fandoms, but it’s new! It can grow and I can’t wait for season 2. The harsh reality, though, is that f/f ships tend to be smaller fandoms. This may be due to so few well-written female characters in general throughout media - though, this is improving and having more female writers in media helps. Killing Eve has great characters and really great writing, so hopefully they can buck this trend and grow a decently large fandom featuring f/f ships. Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe from Legends of Tomorrow are a pretty big ship, which is heartening, and Xena/Gabrielle from Xena Warrior Princess were an absolute juggernaut back in the day (kudos to anyone who recognized Xena from my main tumblr’s icon).

You think I only like hot men? Or that I excuse the actions of killers who are hot men? NO. I watched The Fall with Gillian Anderson and Jamie Dornan, where Jamie Dornan played the serial killer and NO - I was not a fan of his character, let alone attempted to excuse any actions by his character whatsoever, even after they explained his tragic backstory. And You on Netflix is just too obnoxious in my personal opinion for me to even watch. But I’d never take time out of my day to hate on any fan who enjoys it.

Calling out problematic stuff in media is fine, but don’t use it as an excuse to spit vitriol and hate at fans who you disagree with.

P.S. Seriously, ask me for recs of good detective shows/murder mysteries. I’ve got so many I could recommend that are way better written than most. Want a female detective? I’ve got plenty. Want a gay male detective? Got it. Want a murder mystery twist where the murderer wins? Got that.

#Dear Antis #sangwoo #killing stalking #i'm not tagging that hateful poster #because if they don't frequent the tag they spewed their hate in it won't matter #my post wouldn't stop them #but if i can reach the ks fans who do #and encourage this fandom to be nicer to each other #that matters

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trainthief · 6 years ago

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Hey I was wondering if you'd ever consider doing like a top 20 fav classical music albums or composers list or something. Obviously if that just sounds stressful disregard this but I know you are like, into classical music & I grew up with my parents playing it & recently got, like, into the classical station but aside from like 3 artists I like I don't know where to start & I like your blog and would be interested in hearing about like, your taste

Sorry for responding to this so late, I’ve had a real week and I wanted to make sure I had time to put some thought into answering this ask. I’d definitely love to help, I always like recc’ing classical stuff to people! The idea of 20 absolute all time favorites is a difficult one for me because I love so much stuff and it’s really difficult to compare like… Caroline Shaw’s modern experimental chorale stuff to Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos. Anyway, instead I will give you some full length pieces in different styles that I think are great for new listeners, and explain a little about what each one is doing and what I love about it, and some more pieces I recommend if you enjoy what you’re hearing. Hopefully that will help!

In no particular order:

Appalachian Spring by Copland: Let’s just get this one out of the way up front. If you’ve been following me for any amount of time at all, you know I’m deeply in love with Copland. He essentially invented the American compositional style by adding jazz elements to the established practices, which caused an absolute uproar at the beginning of his career as people then considered it an unholy mix of high and low culture. He doubled down on this concept when he wrote “Fanfare For The Common Man” which essentially stands as a celebration of the working class and those who couldn’t afford to see the symphony anyway. He was, I should also note, both gay and Jewish. A real icon. Anyhow, although I love so much of his work and could go on forever, I consider listening to Appalachian Spring in its entirety a spiritual experience, no exaggeration. Take it on a hike, listen to it while you look at the trees and think about whatever crosses your mind, and by the time the Coda hits you… well I personally can’t tell you what experience to have, but I feel for a second like I can see and be seen. Anyway, aside from that, just good music, very pretty. If you’d like similar music that incorporated jazz effectively into classical work, I’d of course recommend another favorite of mine: Rhapsody in Blue by Gershwin.

Russian Easter Festival by Rimsky-Korsakov: As a general rule of thumb, Russian composers are ALWAYS good for some drama. This piece in particular is great because it’s not only fanfare and excitement, there’s a touch of pastoral calmness that I really love (more on that as a concept later) at the beginning, but we still get plenty of wildness. There’s a frantic octave part the violins play around minute 5 that always makes me want to scream. If you like this, I’d also recommend checking out Rimsky-Korsakov’s Capriccio Espagnol. The man knows how to write sexy.

Romance in D by Berkey: I recommend this partially because it’s a lesser known and very beautiful piece, and also because it’s a good lead-in to a whole subset of classical called Furniture Music. Essentially called that - originally by the composer Satie - because it’s nice to put on in the background. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still fun to listen to, and from a compositional and performance standpoint it can still be very impressive. But it’s just good and calming and you could certainly sip tea to it in the restaurant area of a ritzy 1920’s hotel while you read a novel and ignore your rich husband asking if you’d like any marmalade. A good example of the same effect is the soundtrack to Phantom Thread. It’s also good for studying. If you like that conceptually, I’ve got a whole playlist here.

Pictures at an Exhibition by Mussorgsky: A really excellent intro to classical and one of my favorite works, AND like the last one, also a lead-in to an informal format. Pictures was written with the idea that each song was a separate painting that the listener could imagine they were looking at in a museum. For that reason, each one has a different style and personality, and feels very descriptive and exciting. A collection of small related pieces is called a suite, but I haven’t yet been able to find a technical name for that specific kind of storytelling structure within a suite. It’s not uncommon though, and in that same vein I’d also recommend The Planets by Holst (about the planets, as you might assume), and Carnival of the Animals by Saint Saens (about… yeah you get it).

Spem in Alium by Tallis: We’re taking a wild left turn now and veering into the Christian choral tradition dating back to the 1500s. Like anyone else who isn’t even a Christian, there’s a few things about Catholicism that I’m obsessed with. Namely the hymns and the stained glass. Focusing only on the hymns, Tallis is one of the best examples of polyphonic hymnal work. Polyphonic, essentially, means that the different voices in the piece are moving around each other and will frequently change their notes in a way that will compliment - but is not necessarily in line with - the direction of the piece as a whole. It makes more sense if you just listen. The style, however, was developed in an attempt to capture the idea of the stars and planets circling each other in their own independent orbits, because at the time people had just started to turn their gaze to the sky for answers about their own lives. Aside from that very cool background, I just find the really human side of the choir format in particular paired with the elevation of music being this untouchable but powerful thing paired with the holiness of the concept paired with how awesome the acoustics of a chapel can be…. It’s just a lot. If you like this I’d also recommend Miserere Mei by Allegri, Ave Maris Stella by Dufay, and O Magnum Mysterium by Lauridsen

Peter Grimes by Britten: Classical music is so rooted in every musical tradition, and visa versa, that it’s almost impossible to separate it conceptually from a lot of genres. Technically, “classical” refers to a period of time more than it does a genre anyway, but let’s not get pretentious about it. While we’re pushing the boundaries of what can and can’t be included in this list, let’s talk Opera, and specifically Peter Grimes. When asked to describe it, Britten said it was “a subject very close to my heart—the struggle of the individual against the masses. The more vicious the society, the more vicious the individual.” More specifically the struggle was an allegory for gay oppression, and ironically Britten wrote the lead role with his lifelong partner Peter Pears - an opera singer - in mind. To give a taste without giving too much away, the Prologue establishes that Grimes, a fisherman, is being questioned over the death of his apprentice. The townspeople are all convinced before the questioning even begins that he must have done it, but the coroner decides the death was accidental. Grimes is let free and advised not to get another apprentice, but he of course ignores this…. If the vocal side of opera doesn’t do it for you, there are 4 Sea Interludes from this work that are really great independently. If you want even more opera with even more drama, I’d recommend looking at Tosca or Turandot both by Pucccini. If you think classic opera is too high brow and you want something a little sillier, try Mozart’s Magic Flute. If you want something more new age and weird, try listening to Two Boys by Muhly or selections from Einstein on the Beach by Glass (but probably not all 5 hours, Knee Play 5 and Spaceship would be my top 2).

Symphony No. 6 “Pastoral” by Beethoven: I mentioned earlier when describing the Russian Easter Festival that I love a piece with pastoral calmness. Getting back to that point, I haven’t ever seen one word that’s commonly used to describe this particular sense in a piece, but I personally call it a Pastoral after Beethoven’s 6th. In general, the symphony is one of my favorites as a composer and listener, especially given that it’s really just about taking a walk in nature which is one of only 3 themes music should have anyway in my opinion. A good amount of my music is written with this feeling in mind. Aside from all that context, the first movement in particular is very nice, passionate but not sensational, and is just about being excited to be outside. Nothing wrong with that. This subset of music is probably the most informal of all the ones I’ve listed so far, but if you’d like more “Pastorals,” or pieces that have a nice calm passion to them, I’d also highly recommend Enigma Variations: Nimrod by Elgar, Fantasia on a Theme of Tallis by Vaughan Williams, Once Upon A Time In America by Morricone, Musica Celestis by Kernis, and of course again Appalachian Spring by Copland. (I would also be legally sent to jail if I didn’t mention that while we’re on the subject of Beethoven, his 9th Symphony is generally considered one of the greatest achievements in classical music).

Rite of Spring by Stravinsky: A lot of these pieces have been good jumping off points into different musical concepts, but with this one I’m sticking my description to the initial piece itself. I got the chance to email with a composer I admire and he at one point described composition not in the sense of writing something “smart”, but in writing something “detailed”. The Rite of Spring is a really great example of detailed composition. It’s extremely experimental with its time changes - essentially the way that you should be counting your notes as a musician constantly changes and always into a pattern that’s difficult to keep track of - and also with its chord structure. The music itself can be jarring and odd to listen to but the composition wasn’t random and when studied shows an obsessive elbows-deep involvement in the work that I really admire. It might not surprise you to hear, however, that at the initial performance the audience was so furious that the lighting technician had to continually flash the lights to confuse them, out of fear of a riot. If you’d like something a bit more fun to listen to by the same composer, however, Firebird is a good one. And if you’d like another great piece that was completely booed off the stage at its premier, I’d recommend Grand Pianola by Adams.

Romeo and Juliet by Prokofiev: While we’re in the general vicinity of ballet, I should get into that deeper. Ballets can have some of the most fun music to listen to because the timing is required to be so much more specific. Romeo and Juliet is a lot of fun, particularly the “Montagues and Capulets” and “Masks” sections. Another great ballet is, of course, The Nutcracker by Tchaikovsky. I’d also recommend Don Quixote by Minkus, and Rodeo by Copland…. I know I know

Violin Concerto in D by Tchaikovsky: I said Russians bring the drama, and it’s doubly so when it’s a gay Russian. This piece is a classic example of the solo concerto format, which is a staple of classical as a whole. The setup is a single player on whatever instrument the piece is written for accompanied by an orchestra, and is usually a showcase of technical skill by the soloist. This one in particular is basically THE turning point in a violinist’s studies and just about every violinist learns it as soon as they’re capable of taking it on. Personally I still vividly remember when my teacher finally gave it to me, it’s a very specific sense of accomplishment. Similar examples of the solo concerto format on different instruments would be Piano Concerto in F by Rachmaninoff, and Oboe Concerto in C by Mozart, both of which I absolutely love.

The Revd Mustard His Installation Prelude by Muhly: I’ve gone on forever so I’m trying to be quick. Nico Muhly is one of my favorite modern composers and Revd Mustard combines his classic ecstatic and constantly moving style with an organ, which I’m a sucker for. Contemporary classical in his style can be difficult to listen to because it’s gotten very experimental and as a result, very complicated. But if you don’t go into it with the expectation that you’re going to hear a structured and logical Mozart-like piece and you instead surrender your opinion until the whole thing has come together for you, it can be really interesting at the very least. As a side note, Nico has collaborated with Sufjan, Bjork, Jonsi, Teitur…. lots of people. You’ve certainly heard him before even if you didn’t know it. For more classical from the last few decades I’d recommend Partita for 8 Singers by Shaw, Tissue No. 7 by Glass, Different Trains by Reich, the Red Violin Concerto by Corigliano (especially because I just saw it live a few days ago and am still reeling), Perpetuum Mobile by Penguin Cafe Orchestra, and Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten by Part. Each of which is vastly different, stylistically speaking, but all of which I really love. And for more organ listen to one of my favorite pieces of all time, Symphony 3 by Saint Saens.

Ok, you know what? I’m cutting myself off because I’ve gone on forever. If you haven’t been put off of asking me questions entirely by now, please feel free if you want even more recommendations in a specific style, or want to know more about something you enjoy. Clearly I love talking about this. Hope that helped!

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recalibr8 · 6 years ago

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The mEtOHd in my madness

I’d been out with my teen lads on a Friday. We got off the train and there was a young, crumpled woman sat on the platform, fat tears splashing into a puddle of sick on her trench coated lap. I offered her some tissues; I’m a mum, it come with the membership card. After a few sorries she asked “where did you stop?”. It took us a while to realise she meant, ‘where are we?’ She was out by 2 stations which on the face of it wasn’t bad. We pointed her onto the next train, gave her a mint (gold membership benefits) and my youngest shouted “take care of yourself” as we trudged up the platform. We agreed it was probably work drinks getting out of bounds and she’d be ok now she had tissues. But I kept thinking, “where did you stop?”. Where did I stop? Because I’m now AF af.

AF af. That’s alcohol free and doing pretty darn ruddy brilliant. Three months ago I upgraded my BrewDog to NannyState, went Becks Blue and am thinking in an offhand way about brewing Kombucha. I’ve teamed this up with going plasticlite, veganish and kimchi curious. So far, so middle class virtual signalling. But where did I stop?

I’ve been drinking since I was 5. I’d adorably finish up the beer in my parents’ guests glasses and well, kept going. Not in a Drew, Carrie or Liza rehab by 13 sense but I think I’ve probably had my fair share. I’m well aware that I knew, know and don’t know but suspect people who I love who have significant alcohol use problems and this is blog is in no way trying to say my needs are greater than theirs. I know a lot of highly creative endeavours and friendships were found in a gin bottle but also unforgivable abuses. And I know friends whose acts are based around the camaraderie of drinking. And I’d never tell anyone what they *should* do. But like all ex anybodies, I’m annoying about my sobriety journey right now. Bear with me.

But it’s not just me though. I see booze everywhere. For a dose related lethal toxin that’s very effective marketing. There’s a giant ad on Toots Broadway station entreating me to Go Bottomless and every other Facebook ad is for a spirit that promises to make evenings round the back of Catford Lidl magical. And many of these are aimed at women. A recent industry survey found ‘only’ 17% of women drank beer and this needed sorting out. Look out for more lady drinking adverts, they’re coming.

But I wasn’t alcoholic. Was I? Are you? You’re only an alcoholic if you have one more drink than you doctor. I’m

a doctor ... so let’s take a look.

*I’m really low on the alcoholic check list*

I’ve never drank alcohol in the morning, blacked out, been told by others I have a problem, had to apologise...

Ah, I have had to apologise once or twice. Nothing major, just ‘sorry, I was a bit wobbly/silly/rude/loud/insulting/gave you my shoes as a gift’. I once lost my credit and oyster card at the bar of a immersive theatre event though. I don’t know how I got home. I had to find the site manager the next day and he definitely had other things to do. Not long after my bag was stolen in SoHo because I was distracted. Not sure how I got home then either. Friends put me in an Uber after my MA showcase because I wasn’t walking very straight. Or being very nice. So I definitely remember getting home then.

These were all Thursdays or weekends. I’ve always been careful not to have any chance of affecting my work. But yeah, how clear headed was I for my family, myself? And much of this was stress drinking after a week of being a clever doctor. Just loosened up the joints a bit. Particularly if your slightly socially awkward. But I wasn’t a drunk, no. Maybe just a binge drinker. And that’s ok, isn’t it?

*Hangovers are just a thing*.

With only drinking at the end of the week, I was careful not to be hungover at work. But I had a Friday at home hangover where I didn’t get out of bed for the day. I claimed I’d been poisoned. I’d just had one too many Jaegerbombs. I vomited in the taxi. I’ve vomited in several taxis. That’s not a good look at any age. Hangovers are a funny meme, a cartoon of a dog in sunglasses, office banter. It’s your liver crying and your brain folding it’s arms in judgment. It’s not bad wine, it’s bad choices.

*Get kids used to drinking. Like the French. Then they won’t binge*.

My 13 year old buys old vodka bottles from charity shops. Wearing a furry hat, his comedy drunk Russian is not bad I used to have the deepest voice of my friends at 14 so it was my job to buy the booze for house parties. My mother always told me drink a pint of milk before you go out to soak up the booze. At 14. I had a few sexual assaults along the way but if I blame myself that’s victim blaming and I don’t want to be a bad feminist on top of everything. Med school in the 80’s/90’s was all over the drink. Freshers’ week was a booze insurance test. The circle line pub crawl, the Clint Eastwood Appreciation Society, the Med School pub crawl...end at Barts because Smithfield’s liscence meant you’d keep going all night.

*Booze always cheers you up*.

I’ve got to confess, my life has got a lot quieter. I’m going out much less, I leave early, I’m not champagne Charlie any more. I’m always, well, me. My dad was a depressed alcoholic, so was his dad (he ran a tobacconist and offie so that didn’t help) and his dad before him. And I have depression and PTSD. My moods are now not so high, but they are also not so low. This is very strange. I’m hoping this is a good thing. I’ve heard it is. This, this is the mEtOHd in my madness. The mood stabilisation. That’s the plan.

*Being a doctor is just one of those boozey jobs*

Fun quiz! Who do you think drinks the most? Enough to have a problem. Oooh, were good at guessing this in ED. Writers must be bad, farmers, journalists! yes, they’re always drunk, private invsestigators (?), airline pilots (like my dad, I saw what those guys put away). Ok...it’s.

Lawyers - reporting 33% with problematic drinking

Construction workers- 16.5%

Miners -17.5%

Then it’s Healthcare workers, especially doctors (oh no). A. 2012 study of American surgeons published in JAMA Surgery found 15.4 percent had an alcohol use disorder. Female surgeons (25.6 percent) were more likely than male surgeons (13.9 percent) to exhibit symptoms of alcohol addiction. Healthcare professionals in general it’s 10%

https://www.drugrehab.com/addiction/common-professions/

Performing artists and writers - 11.5%

Catering/hospitality -11%

So no pilots then? I think there’s something they’re not telling us or things are much better since the 80’s.  

A 1998 study of junior doctors in Newcastle-upon-Tyne reported that:

* 60% exceeded the recommended safe limits for alcohol consumption

* 36% of males and 20% of females used cannabis

The Sick Doctors Trust says “Since our working lives are spent helping others, it is easy to push aside our own problems, in addition to which, denial is quite common in medical staff. This is not deliberate, but a part of the whole illness of addiction. That addiction is a chronic illness which therefore requires treatment as for any other condition, is now well-established but there is still a tendency to feel that it is a sign of weakness, and that maybe things aren't 'that bad'.’

That some individuals are more prone to developing addiction is generally agreed. There is no single determining factor, but usually a combination of biological, psychosocial and environmental factors - a mixture of nature and nurture. There is now much evidence implicating dysfunction in the Dopamine transmitter system & it’s involvement in craving. There is also evidence to suggest that the effect alcohol has on an individual’s brain is genetically determined. A family history is present in many alcoholics- those having direct family affected being more at risk...

*Its a family affair*

I went to Adult Children of Alcoholics once. It wasn’t for me but what they said made total sense. I take responsibility for everyone, I’m primed for betrayal and disaster and I totally thrive in emotional drama. My dad wasn’t a nice drunk. He made my mum drink when pregnant ‘to keep him company’. She in turn gave babies a tot of brandy to keep them quiet as a stewardess and I can’t imagine my permanently shouting parents wouldn’t have liked us to be quiet babies too. So I’ve got pre and postnatal form. But I don’t have to fix them now. Particularly dad. It’s quite hard to fix dead people.

https://adultchildren.org/

*Booze: the solution AND cause of all of life’s difficulties*

Sick Doctors again “ Alcohol is the commonest substance of abuse in all doctors. Drinking will surprisingly continue despite negative consequences such as job difficulties, relationship breakdowns, financial problems, loss of driving licence; the alcoholic is driven by an irrational compulsion to continue, and frequently results in despair to the point of suicide. Fortunately, the depression associated with active alcoholism often abates when sober.”

http://sick-doctors-trust.co.uk/page/addiction

*I’m not an alcoholic*

and you probably aren’t either. But you might have problematic drinking. I did a survey as part of an UCLH research project. You can too. I lied a bit on it and still came out drinking more than 97% of women my age. Now an icon opens up on my phone every day to that says ‘DRINK LESS’. I stopped leaving my phone on meetings tables.

Drink Less. by Robert West

https://apps.apple.com/gb/app/drink-less/id1020579244

If you are thinking about getting help for problematic drinking or any other addictions including workaholism or have any burnout symptoms for more than 3 weeks, you can of course get staff support and occupational health. But/And there is the amazing NHS Practitioner Health Programme where doctors with any addictions are supported https://php.nhs.uk/ DocHealth is another equally good programme https://www.dochealth.org.uk/. I used the latter when it was MedNet.

So, do I feel amazing? Had I got amazing skin, lost weight, feel energised and hopeful. Urg, not really. I feel a bit scared actually. I’ve lost my social crutch and I’ve stopped going out. I’m worried I’m boring and people will think I’m weird. But....I can get up earlier to walk the dog, I’m moderately less tired and although I’m not skipping down the road happy, the depressive moment I had in spring could have been a lot worse. I think that’s actually amazing. And that’s why I’m doing this. I want to face the world honestly and openly. I want to enjoy my kids before they leave home which is frighteningly soon and weirdly, I want to know my liver replaced itself in a year so I’m literally a new person (don’t google Theseus’ Boat Paradox, life is complicated enough). Oddly compelling, that. So where did I stop? I stopped here. In a weird waiting room in my head. But with the promise of a new adventure through the next door.

But don’t stop doing you, babes. Keep telling me your booze bantz. They are hilarious. Any story that starts or ends with Baileys is only going one way. This clearly isn’t a lecture. Most people can do moderation. And do could I, mostly. And it’s the mostly that’s not good enough. Not for me. Not any more.

Online support - https://www.facebook.com/groups/joinclubsoda/?ref=share

Samaritans- https://www.samaritans.org/

BMA wellbeing including 24 hour support - https://www.bma.org.uk/advice/work-life-support/your-wellbeing

Tea and Empathy for doctors’ online support - https://www.facebook.com/groups/1215686978446877/?ref=share

Al Anon for children of alcoholics https://adultchildren.org/

https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/

Dedicated to my husband who gave up the wine w*nker 6 years ago without any of this mid life crisis fuss. But I gave up meat and caffeine first so I still win.

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tfrohock · 6 years ago

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How to write strong male characters, or writing non-toxic heroes

Okay, that title is a tweak on all of the numerous blog posts I once read (and to be fair, wrote) about writing strong female characters. Remember those? Back a few years, you couldn’t swing a dead rat without knocking down a blog post on how to write a female character. I enjoyed those posts, not simply because what the authors were saying was true, but also because of the empowerment those essays gave to both the authors and the readers.

However, when I floated the idea on Twitter of writing a similar post about male characters, I was met with some snark, such as a recommendation to gender-flip everyone, or make all of the characters female. Frankly, the suggestion of gender-flipping the characters and suddenly all-is-well-with-the-world-and-bluebirds-sing as a solution tells me the individual in question hasn’t been around toxic women, which is another blog post altogether, but suffice to say that gender-flipping isn’t a cure and completely avoids the toxicity of some male characters.

Another individual advised me to write a gender-balanced novel, which tells me they haven’t read mine.

For the record: the male/female ratio from Where Oblivion Lives is 17 men and 15 women. This is a rough count from my style sheet and omits anyone who is/was an actual historical person.

With a bisexual protagonist married to his gay partner, I was highly conscious of the number of females and their roles as I wrote the story. Whenever possible, I made the supporting characters females in high-profile jobs (such as Sofia, who is the chief of Guillermo’s spy unit, and Carme, who is more badass than all the men put together) wherever and whenever possible. However, we’re not here to talk about them.

“TOXIC MASCULINITY" AND WHY I DISLIKE THE TERM

The term “toxic masculinity” is mutable, depending on the time period, who is defining it, and whether it is the product of popular jargon or actual gender studies. No one denies that male violence and sexism are issues that need to be addressed on a cultural level; however, the cause of those issues aren’t necessarily masculinity. Men do not burst from the womb loathing women and fighting the other babies in the nursery. Misogyny and violence are learned behaviors, and one of the many places where men learn those toxic behaviors is by reading books with characters who make misogyny and violence an acceptable part of being male.

Also, I’m not here to lead a discussion in gender studies, because I’m not qualified for that. I’m a writer and we’re here to talk about writing characters that provide positive role models not just for young men, but also for young women. So rather than “toxic masculinity,” I’ll be talking about the toxic behavior we normally ascribe to men, and how I avoided making the men in my novels behave in ways that would make violence and misogyny seem appealing.

I gave the toxic behavioral traits of glorifying violence and power-structures to my antagonists, Jordi and Karl. They believe they are “destined for greatness” and that by virtue of birthrights and poorly constructed ideals of male dominance, their place is assured. Stylistically, I approach these aspects of character through their actions and by what the other characters observe of Jordi’s and Karl’s behavior.

For example: we never go into Karl’s point-of-view, but we see him through Diago’s eyes as Diago walks through a drawing room, looking at pictures of Karl standing triumphantly over big game animals he has killed. Diago notes that “Karl likes killing things.” However, it’s not so much about killing as it is about Karl’s need for dominance over other creatures.

Does this mean that Guillermo and Miquel don’t possess toxic behaviors? No.

The difference between the Jordi/Karl and Guillermo/Miquel dynamic is that Jordi/Karl see nothing wrong with their behavior and make no efforts to change. Guillermo and Miquel, on the other hand, tend to listen when confronted about their behavior, and they do make sincere efforts to modify not just their actions, but also the thought processes that lead to those actions, thereby making an active effort to break the cycle of toxicity.

WRITING NONTOXIC HEROES

Is not as hard as it sounds; although it takes a lot more than just adding more women to the cast. The women have to be proactive and possess agency of their own, and the men need to respond to them as equals.

One of my favorite scenes from Where Oblivion Lives is the dinner scene, where Guillermo’s eight-year-old daughter, Ysabel, decides to make her stand for independence. Her mother, Juanita, is in full support of her daughter and coaching her from the sidelines. Guillermo’s behavior is toxic in that he wants to control the situation, and he uses manipulative means to do so. At the same time, this particular scene is the catalyst for some of the subsequent changes in Guillermo’s personality later on in the novel.

I’ve edited this scene down to its essential parts, but it all begins after dinner when Ysabel asks if she and Rafael and can go outside and play fútbol:

Guillermo traded a calculating look with Juanita. “I don’t see the harm in it.” Before Ysabel could move, he pointed at his jubilant daughter. “But it had better be fútbol and not that spy game you’ve started playing. No more of that. I don’t want you creeping around the compound listening under windows. Do you understand me?”

With her round face and thick auburn curls, she was an eight-year-old version of her father, right down to the way her face belied her guilt when caught flat-footed in a scheme. “How am I ever going to be a proper nefil if I don’t learn how to gather information?”

“If you want to be a proper nefil, you’ll follow orders and I’ve just given you one.”

Ysa showed no sign of letting the argument go, however. “You said you learned on the streets when you were younger than me.”

“That was a different time.”

“Not that different,” Juanita said.

Guillermo’s cheeks flushed pink. “Whose side are you on?”

As cool as her milk-pale skin, Juanita rested her chin on her hand and met her husband’s glare. “It’s not about sides. If she was a boy, you’d be complimenting her on her acumen.”

“That’s not fair,” Guillermo shot back. “I give my experienced female Guards the same respect and assignments as I do the males.”

Ysabel seized the opening. “How did they get their experience?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “By doing the work.”

“They weren’t eight years old.”

“I want to learn, Papá.”

Seeking to help his friend, Rafael said, “Ysa is really very good at it, Don Guillermo, and she is very careful.”

High praise indeed, given that Rafael spent his first six years on the streets. Nonetheless, Diago touched his son’s arm and whispered, “Be still.”

Guillermo ignored everyone but Ysabel. “This has nothing to do with your gender. You’re my daughter. If something happens to you, my heart will die.”

An appeal to the emotions. Nice save, Diago thought, taking mental notes in case Rafael developed a sudden interest in proving his value to the Inner Guard through espionage. Fortunately, his son seemed more intent on picking the almonds off his plate with his fingers.

Ysa stood her ground and retorted, “I’d be in a lot less danger with your guidance.”

And touché. Diago wondered what prompted her to challenge her father today. A quick glance at Juanita told him that whatever the reason, she supported Ysa’s cause, because she assessed her daughter’s attitude with the eye of a maestro watching her student deliver a master performance.

Juanita said, “She has your craving for knowledge, Guillermo, and she is ready to begin learning about the family business.”

Guillermo’s cheeks reddened again, but this time from chagrin rather than anger, because everyone at the table knew Juanita spoke the truth.

She continued, “Besides, she’s right: it’s better she work under your supervision rather than running amok on her own.”

* * *

Although I don’t actually state it, a couple of things can be noted from Guillermo’s behavior:

He doesn’t immediately deny Ysabel’s request and send her to her room. The closest he comes to an ultimatum is “If you want to be a proper nefil, you’ll follow orders and I’ve just given you one.” However, he doesn’t cut her off when she continues the argument. This shows he does respect his daughter’s opinion as well as her personal autonomy.

Nor does he treat her like a child. He tries to reason with her on an adult level, and even though he’s manipulative at one point, he knows in his heart of hearts that both of the women in his life are right. That much is evident from his actions. As much as he wants his little girl to stay a little girl forever, he recognizes the fact that she isn’t mortal and that he is going to have to eventually teach her the family business, ugly though it is.

As Guillermo’s character arc develops, we see him proactively working toward changing how he views his daughter and her place in Los Nefilim. Ysabel blossoms into a strong leader in the second novel, primarily because of her parents’ partnership and mutual respect for one another.

Any character (male or female) can certainly possess toxic behaviors—in this particular scene, it’s Guillermo wanting to be overprotective to the point of crippling Ysabel—but the key to making the character non-toxic is having them resist that impulse to lash out and exert dominance over others based on nothing more than the power dynamics of the relationship. Guillermo exhibits a willingness to listen, and subsequently, a willingness to change. These two points are what elevates him over his brother, Jordi.

GIVE THE TOXICITY TO YOUR ANTAGONISTS

As the antagonist, Jordi and Karl exhibit the classic toxicity often associated with male characters. They are abusive, violent, and in their reasoning, the world belongs to them. They feel justified in their excesses. And I deliberately give them those characteristics, because by showing toxic behavior in all its ugliness, I have the chance to contrast the two types of men.

WHY SADDLE THE WOMEN WITH THE RESPONSIBILITY OF SHOWING MEN THEIR TOXICITY?

Parenting is a partnership, where the spouses play to one another’s strengths and weaknesses. In this case, it just happened to be Juanita nudging Guillermo in the right direction. Later on in the same novel, Miquel has his own ideas of how to raise Rafael, which Diago ignores, so it’s not about women but about spouses.

It also just so happened that I needed a character arc for Guillermo and the issue of Ysabel’s upbringing fit his personality perfectly while showing that men make good parents. Which brings me to my final point …

WORDS HAVE POWER

… and our characters exist through our words, so they, too, have power. Writing a story requires being conscious of the world around us, but also of the world we want to see. In stories, we shape our worlds through our characters and their interactions, which often mirror our own. Fortunately, we don’t always have to show our readers the world as it is, but we can explore the world as we’d like to know it. Shifting the toxic behavior normally associated with men from the heroes to the antagonists gives us a chance to reshape our world.

#heroes #strong male characters

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djseaward · 6 years ago

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festival magic + my top 5 films seen at this year’s KVIFF

ahoj all, i’ve been in the middle of summer camps (sotiredomg) just wanted to pop in after our annual trip to karlovy vary for the film festival. even if it took me all dang week to finish this post.

in case you’re new around here: hi, i’m cynthia and i like to have film festival vacations in beautiful hilly spa towns where we get up at 6am to go stand in box office queues!

joking aside, we're getting into a real routine when it comes to this festival, but the most notable change this year is when we arrived to the box office on thursday shortly after getting in, we bought our friday tickets and then were asked if we would like to also purchase saturday tickets as well. normally this does not happen, as you're only allowed to buy tickets for that day and the next, but thanks to this little change, we had only two early mornings of queuing! it was incredible. lots of sleep, a good amount of relaxation.

this year was a little different too as we both agreed to only see three films a day instead of four or even five. i know this might seem like crazy talk to anyone who has not attended a film festival, but when our vacation is solely based around going to the festival... you see movies. i have found, however, that more than three films a day is too much. even though you might have the time in your schedule, by the fourth movie you're just sort of ready to go home and also not very able to synthesize and think and discuss the films. (the same reason why i never binge-watch tv shows)

so, three films a day it was. another change that we just figured out and will implement next time is actually spreading those three films over the entire day rather than watching the films, for example: at 13:00, then 16:00, and finally 19:00. this was our schedule for about two days of the festival and even though we had the morning to relax, it was rather difficult finding the time to power-walk across town to the next theater or barely having time to even grab a sandwich on the way.

every year gets more and more laid-back, and learning these little tweaks make it all the more enjoyable. besides the films themselves, i enjoyed (as ever!) trying all the different waters from the various prameny (springs) with my little ceramic sippy-cup (very characteristic of the spa-triangle region of the czech republic). on the hottest day of the year so far, sunday the 30th, we took a lovely walk in the forest south of the city right after buying our tickets that morning and it was such a nice way to have a break from sitting in the kino. we walked along a trail called the goethova stezka, and it was just really lovely. there are just countless trails around karlovy vary and i love exploring a new area every year.

i also really enjoyed the photography exhibition on the first floor of hotel thermal, hanging out at the various pop-up lounges (like the mall.cz and ceska televize zones), and seeing my picture in the festival denik newspaper (above) one morning. who would've thunk. my biggest twitter moment since the time that michael b. jordan retweeted me. just let me bask in my fame... for one more minute. (megan rapinoe pose)

on the last night in vary after we got out of our last screening (a new german film, systemsprenger) at národní dům, we walked back from masaryka street towards our flat near karlovy vary theater and the sky was just the most beautiful rosy, peachy hue. it was like magic was blanketing the city - so romantic. we found a wine bar nestled in a little alley and toasted to the start of july with glasses of prosecco. it seemed like one of those "european magic" moments, the sort of moment i remember from before i moved to europe. the sort of situation that makes you want to live there. a great end to a great festival.

lunch of the festival: one of the bowls from lékárna (above), all the way up at masaryka 47 . after male bistro apparently closed earlier this year and baguette boulevard has long left the vary scene (sniffle), my tummy was aching for some veggie-friendly health food and lékárna certainly filled the void. the spicy chickpea bowl with their house tahini, veggies and other deliciousness kept me going through a long travel day.

without any further ado, my top five films seen! i can highly recommend any one of these films if you get the chance to see them in the next year...

5) jan palach (2018, czech republic)

i feel like this film is basically a must-see especially for foreigners living in the czech republic who require a bit more background to fully take in what happened with jan palach during the prague spring (soviet invasion) of 1968. was very cool to get to see the cast and crew of the film as well at this screening.

4) a white, white day (2019, iceland)

if you have seen any icelandic films, you would know the brilliant ingvar sigurdsson (above) who kills it in this film like all the rest. the story takes place in a remote icelandic town - deals with love, loss, stages of grieving, pain manifesting in anger and destruction, and more. it’s got to be the best icelandic film of the year. the little girl who plays the granddaughter really makes the film, as well.

3) stitches (2019, serbia)

did you know that between the 1970′s and now, serbia has been dealing with a newborn-kidnapping crisis? this conspiracy (who is doing this?!) that the government would rather like to keep under wraps has been surfacing in recent years, and that’s generally what this movie is about: a mother (a seamstress) who will stop at nothing to find her kidnapped son, stolen from her at birth and sold to another couple by hospital personnel eighteen years before. it starts slow but certainly builds and has you hanging on every moment.

2) monos (2019, columbia)

i had a hunch this film would be good and it surpassed even my high expectations. basically, it’s a loose lord of the flies scenario: eight kids, conscripted into the military are holding court on a stunning mountaintop living a life virtually away from all adults and are expected to watch over one milk cow... and one hostage: a forty-something american doctor. i don’t know what else to tell you about this one besides just “see it”, it’s brilliant and nearly devoid of flaws.

1) parasite (2019, south korea)

another banger from bong joon-ho (did we actually expect anything else?) of previous films like the host, snowpiercer, and 2017′s okja. parasite somehow manages to be even more epic than those three. the director himself even stated that the less information you have going into the screening, the better and i’d have to agree, but prepare for what is a drama, thriller and comedy all in one. it premiered at cannes this year and won the palme d’or so that’s sort of saying something. look out for this one!

see you next year, karlovy vary! and see the rest of you next week.

ps, past KVIFF accounts can all be seen here! it’s a lifestyle.

#kviff #karlovy vary #Film Review #film #czech republic #filmfestlife

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findasongblog · 6 years ago

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Last Summer Dance at Erpeldange-sur-Sûre, LU, 1&2 September 2018

Unlike our dear guest writer Mig-El, I haven’t been to any majors festivals this year (please find his reviews here and here), but I can’t say I miss it as I have been to a few smaller, local ones that I really enjoyed. The advantages are obvious: low ticket fees, sometimes even none at all, no problems with transport and/or parking, mostly nice locations, often combined with other sorts of entertainment like art exhibitions, markets... But, you might argue, that’s not where my favorite bands play! Time to discover some new favorites then 😉

(you can find all of my photos here)

It was the 5th edition of Last Summer Dance (such a fitting name it spared me the trouble of searching for some poignant title to this article 😊) taking place in the castle grounds at Erpeldange-sur-Sûre in the North of Luxembourg. The castle was built in the 12th century and nowadays hosts the municipal services.

We were „obliged“ to attend both days of the festival as Epicure. played on Saturday and Seed To Tree on Sunday. We took the opportunity to see a few more acts, but alas didn’t get round to taking part in any of the activities/workshops of which there were quite a few. Next time, hopefully.

We missed C’est Karma at Screaming Fields (stomach bug) and at Sofar Sounds Luxembourg (inconvenient date) – and at probably a few more occasions since Bartleby Delicate’s EP release show – so it was nice to finally have the opportunity to see her again.

As you can see, the sun played along and its reflection on the CDs hung above the acoustic stage made for a nice „light show“ matching the chilled atmosphere. More of C’est Karma’s music will be released soonish, till then, here’s the video for her first single, Gravity:

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Mel and me consider ourselves big fans of Epicure., but we obviously can’t compete with this little guy 😀 Surely, he and his sign will make an appearance in the video that has been shot during the set and which I’ll share as soon as it’s released (I took one myself but the band deemed their performance not good enough – well, I guess it can’t hurt to have high standards 😉) So here’s one from the last time we had seen them:

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I was happy to learn that an EP is in the making so that we’ll have something to listen to in between gigs. 😊

It was then time to check out the delicious food range on the festival site while waiting for the next act. In The Atlas is a Luxembourgish indie pop/rock band formed in November 2016. It took me a few songs to get into it as – at least live – the sound is a bit heavier than what I normally listen to. Very catchy and danceable though!

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That was it for the Saturday, we returned on Sunday just in time to see Le Vibe, an 8 (!) piece band who brought some reggae vibes (see what I did there?) to the main stage of LaSuDa. Well, reggae and more, as their style is very diversified with the songs being written (and sung) by different band members. So much talent it was a bit overwhelming - in a positive way, of course.

It’s surely the kind of music that works best live anyway, however, I would have liked to give you a sample, but couldn’t find anything online. I’ll keep my eyes open!

All Reitz Reserved is the moniker under which Chris Reitz produces his ambient electronic music. Our first chance to see him solo after he was part of Josh Island’s band at his EP release show. My otherwise flawless music taste 😜 doesn’t include instrumental, but to anyone who isn’t as narrow-minded as me, I can highly recommend listening to his 2017 release Electric Eclectic.

If by now you’re under the impression that Last Summer Dance was reserved to Luxembourgish artists, you’re wrong: the next band we saw had come all the way from Freiburg, Germany: Catastrophe Waitress, an indie folk/pop 4-piece. They themselves describe their style as „trivial, but witty“ – not much to add to that 😂

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The most important news from Seed To Tree’s headline gig is that a video was shot (not at the gig), so I’ll hopefully soon be able to share some new music with you instead of just writing about it.

The crowd was almost as good as the one at Make Koler Kooler and the band was especially happy to have their ex-keyboarder Jean-Marc in the audience (he left Seed To Tree when he became a daddy, surely the best reason, but if I was him, I’d have some regrets nontheless)

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The highlight was once more Take My Hand, but by then, I had put my camera away in favor of more exuberant dancing 😎 The crowd would have wanted more; one lady asked after the show if it wasn’t Bartleby Delicate’s turn now – George denied that, stating that the people were happy now and that listening to Bartleby Delicate would only make them sad (as if that was a valid excuse...)

But it was late, and we still had an hour’s drive before us. Only thing to do before leaving was to ask Georges to make it clear that his „just don’t go to work tomorrow“ didn’t include Mel not going to school 😉 She DID go (but fell asleep on the couch in the early evening), so I guess I’ll never be able to ever use the school argument again when it comes to going out in the evening 😩

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catholicismabusedestiny · 4 years ago

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FSA! I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THIS MEANT UNTIL RECENTLY

03.02.2019

My father’s birthday~ I think that is more than just a coincidence that I found myself researching this topic or this date, but I did! Ever since my 60th, which was an awful, hurtful and emotional draining weekend for me; I became a hermit for months because each time I so much as thought about that weekend, I’d begin to cry and I didn’t want to do that around anyone else – especially my friends!

In truth, it was the most hurtful (and yet INTENTIONAL) act that anyone’s ever done to me and no one even cares. I’d told everyone that my vision for that weekend was to celebrate the passing of my health issues, the blending of my friends and family (which I’ve tried to do for decades) and the starting of my new business in California. I described it as “the best” event in my life – given I wasn’t married; I viewed this as the one and only event intended for nothing but to celebrate me, Mike.

However, to then experience what actually occurred and to know that it was done intentionally to hurt me is/was something so harmful/difficult to process that I sought out my therapist’s assistance to make sense of it. Ironically, I’ve only been seeing this therapist about 6 months yet - he too – referred to FSA as something I needed to research and boy he was right.

Per my therapist’s advice, I’ve done some follow-up research on a topic we’ve discussed at length in therapy; he’s instructed me to review various case studies and ensure that I have a thorough understanding of the phenomena of Scapegoating, or FSA, as the therapist’s call it. In fact, I reviewed the content from a book he’s recommended and below are some excerpts from that book.

“Since publishing my first book on what I named Family Scapegoating Abuse (FSA), many readers have written me with questions regarding family scapegoating and the challenges faced when attempting to recover from its damaging effects. In today’s post I answer five critical questions about this most insidious form of systemic psycho-emotional abuse”.

Understanding Family Scapegoating Abuse (FSA)

Over the past few months, I’ve had many readers of my blog articles write to me privately or in comments to the effect of, “I can’t believe what I am reading – It’s like you’re writing about my own life!”

Many of those writing to me express the intensity of emotions they experience when recognizing themselves as FSA survivors. Typical comments include, “At last, there’s a name that describes what I’ve been experiencing”, and “Now that I understand what may have happened to me, I have hope that perhaps there’s a way for me to recover.”

Often those reaching out to me to share their experiences of being scapegoated also have a lot of questions about family scapegoating abuse as related to their experiences of painful and damaging family betrayal.

Below are five of the most frequently asked questions I am asked by clients and readers, along with my responses (in brief), that are critical to understanding scapegoating abuse and it’s effects on the targeted family member:

1 – What Is the ‘Family Scapegoat’? ‘The Scapegoat’ is one of the roles ‘assigned’ to a child growing up in a dysfunctional family system (I say more about this process in my answer to question 2). The scapegoating typically (but not always) begins in childhood and often continues into and throughout adulthood, although the role may be passed around to different family members at times.

Because family scapegoating processes can be insidious and subtle, many adult survivors do not realize that they are suffering from a most egregious (and often chronic) form of systemically-driven psycho-emotional bullying and abuse, with all of the painful consequences to body, mind, and spirit.

More specifically: Children and adult children who are caught in the ‘family scapegoat’ role are the ‘identified patient’ in their family. As such, they are often the targets of ‘shaming and blaming’, distorted family narratives (aka ‘smear campaigns’) and can end up rejected and discarded by those who were supposed to love them the most: Their own family-of-origin.

2 – Why Do Families Scapegoat? There are a multitude of reasons why one (or more) family members become the constant target of rejecting, shaming, and blaming behaviors within their family-of-origin. It is usually the case that most family members who scapegoat are genuinely oblivious to the fact that they are engaging in mentally and emotionally abusive behaviors and become highly defensive if confronted with their damaging and harmful behavior.

In Family Systems theory, scapegoating in a dysfunctional family system is understood to be fueled by unconscious processes whereby the family displaces their own collective psychological difficulties and complexes onto a specific family member.

This process of projection, shaming, and blaming serves to divert attention away from the rest of the family’s mental and emotional problems via casting the targeted family member into the role of ‘scapegoat’. This does not mean that all acts of blaming and shaming a child are unconscious – rather, the projection process fueling the scapegoating of the family member is unconscious.

Despite the fact that the ‘family scapegoat’ role is common to dysfunctional families, there is surprisingly little research or literature available to both lay-person and clinician describing family scapegoating’s features and effects on the targeted child / adult child. As a result, family scapegoating is seldom recognized as abuse warranting clinical intervention and treatment. More to the point, however, is that those within a family that’s exhibiting signs of Scapegoating will not recognize the signs themselves, or what role they might have in continuing this abuse.

3 – What Are the Effects of Family Scapegoating Abuse (FSA)? Many FSA adult survivors fail to realize that they have actually suffered from psycho-emotional abuse growing up, and even their therapist or counselor might miss the signs and symptoms associated with being in this most devastating dysfunctional family role. AMEN to this!!

Specifically: Adults seeking assistance from a mental health professional may find that the genuine pain and distress they are experiencing is minimized or even invalidated (e.g., “But they’re your family, of course they love you”; “Family connections are so important, it can’t be that bad”; “It’s best if you forgive, we need to maintain ties with our family to be healthy”), which only serves to reinforce the scapegoated adult’s fear that they are somehow fundamentally to blame for their strained (or non-existent) family relationships.

As a consequence of having their family relational distress and abuse symptoms go unrecognized, many adult survivors of FSA suffer from anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and anger management issues. They may have been diagnosed in the past with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, and even Dissociative Identity Disorder with Psychosis. Once again, AMEN!

In addition to the above disorders, FSA survivors may have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder (ADHD), Bipolar Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and Agoraphobia. Others may be diagnosed with a personality disorder (Borderline Personality Disorder, especially), or an attachment disorder.

4 – Can Family Scapegoating Abuse Lead to Complex Trauma?

Yes. It has been my observation that in addition to being diagnosed with one or more of the disorders listed above, many family scapegoating abuse survivors are suffering from symptoms of undiagnosed, untreated post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which I will be addressing in a future blog post. Each and every diagnosed I’ve highlighted in red are contained within my medical files.

More specifically: As related to my ongoing work with adult survivors seeking to recover from family scapegoating abuse, it is my experience that the rejecting, shaming, and otherwise non-nurturing, harmful, and abusive family environment my clients grew up in (and had no means of escaping from) has actually contributed to their experiencing symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD – which is also known as complex trauma disorder) secondary to chronic parental / family psycho-emotional (and at times physical) abuse.

5 – What’s One of the Biggest Obstacles to FSA Recovery? Scapegoated adults often don’t realize how their familial distress has been negatively impacting nearly every area of their life, including their mental and emotional health, relationships, work, and their ability to realize their most cherished goals and dreams. Over the years, therapist’s have referred to this phenomena; but, I was quick to dismiss it for various reasons; however, now that it’s had two decades to percolate in my head while familial strife worsened to the extent that I now feel like an orphan with instructions that “no one wants to hear anything you have to say” yet no one’s told me what it is their upset about? Now I’m thinking that they might not even know what their upset about.

More specifically: Scapegoated adults often feel debilitated by self-doubt and ‘imposter syndrome’ in their relationships and in the work-place, and blame themselves for their difficulties. They typically struggle in regard to creating and experiencing a sense of life mission, passion, and purpose, and find themselves succumbing to feelings of futility, hopelessness, depression, anxiety, and despair. In extreme cases they may feel that taking their own life is the only way to end their pain. OMG AMEN!

What the FSA victim may see as ‘family conflict’ is often unrecognized mental and emotional abuse. To compound matters further, the FSA victim typically doesn’t realize how being the target of family scapegoating is affecting their ability to succeed and thrive in their personal and professional life.

It may not even occur to the FSA victim that they may need to limit or (in extreme cases) even end contact with abusive family members (which has been recommended to me on more than one occasion) who refuse to take ownership for their damaging behaviors – especially if there are cultural and/or financial considerations that seem insurmountable and impossible to overcome.

While being scapegoated within one’s family-of-origin is recognized as being harmful, the negative effects are most often categorized as mental and emotional exclusively. However, being in the role of the family scapegoat can also result in the targeted child being physically bullied, sexually abused, or denied medical care. We as a society need to acknowledge this and stop putting our heads in the sand so as to avoid overwhelming and unpleasant realities.

Learn more about family scapegoating abuse and how to dis-identify from the false family narrative so you can release the 'scapegoat story' for good! I just ordered this book!

Rejected, Shamed, and Blamed

Help and Hope for Adults in the Family Scapegoat Role

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