#but regardless that shit changed my psyche forever

[bludpudding]

I’d say the only downside of adapting the sandman universe into live action is the creators having to work around censorship. 24/7 fucked me up the first time around but now that I’ve read the comics that shit’s tame in live action. same with the cereal con

I swear to god every page of the cereal convention I had to sit back and go

[amporella]

hi! this is mpreg anon from a few months back lol. i just wanted to say i finally got to reading the fic and im sooo!!!!! sobbing and crying, a puddle of love on the floor! you were right. i Know now why you talked about it often.

i really love holly's stankyle. theres something about them that feels very.. desperate? like they know they belong together and sometimes not even physical touch can satiate that need/want?? idk! but agh! i love them sm. holly is also really good at capturing the overall weirdness of south park and thats why she can come up with aus/ideas that are weird or silly and make them work. i also really appreciate that she went for kinks/tropes that not many people give style.

something else i really loved about this fic was that it felt very like.. omg a dream come true in a way? sometimes i just wanna read a fic where stan and kyle do fuck all all day, just real type of normal maybe even domestic shit and its just them. and this fic came pretty close to that? they are so wrapped up in each other and have so much love to give and g OD i thought the baby was gonna come in and ruin that or like i was gonna get annoyed w the baby but no!!! 😭 i was so neutral about elway in the beginning and was actually loving how kyle was thinking/approaching the whole thing. idek when that started changing?? before they talk about the name elway though. and when she was finally born and the days kyle spent fighting to get her?!! and then he gets her and its the three of them and its like.. yeah.. okay, she's perfect. she really is a miracle stan and kyle created and theres no way she could ever come between them bc stan and kyle's love is endless, its forever and ever, they can share that love with their child 🤧

as for creek, hmm. i think craig and tweek just arent characters i've seen holly write for and like? so even though they are/were together i just didnt rly care for them u_u. im really glad i started finally reading fic where theyre not together in style fics though. it still hurts a bit lmao but ive been enjoying some stories i had passed on before and stuff and yeah, ty for giving me that little push >w<!!!

sorry this ask is so long! i didnt want to bother you every time i finished a chapter lol. i was also going through some stuff and this fic was the only thing keeping me sane. and actually i have just the epilogue left but im so sad its gonna be over after that so i've been delaying it :(! but yeah, aahhhh herbert garrison's night school for unwed fathers enjoyer 🫡 TY! 💙💚

YOU HAVE NOOOO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM THAT YOU READ THE FIC AND SENT ME THIS AMAZING ASK??? I saw this in my inbox and immediately went to my friends and like BRAGGED ABOUT GETTING THIS? I'm going to respond to every part so bear with me but in the meantime THANK YOU!!!

I think you are so so right about them being desperate... it is key for stanky that regardless of how close they get physically, it's like it'll never be enough? Like they are soulmates in every sense of the word, and can never actually satiate their pull... SIGH!!!! IT'S TRUE!!! And holly's ability to nail absurdity is absolutely one of her strongest suits, and something that definitely contributed to how iconic she is. South Park is an absurd show, and holly meets it with such absurdity that Stan and Kyle can stay perfectly in character, because so many of her plots are something that could legitimately BE a South Park episode involving the characters when they're older. Like, Craig and Clyde fucking in the Marsh shed and Craig telling Sheila Kyle needs a psych eval? A+, can and will happen at some point. It's so ridiculous yet somehow believable, and the mpreg fic is literally the BEST example of it. It's a concept that's frankly a huge turnoff for a lot of people (understandably), but she puts it in such a light that she makes it appealing for a ton of people. It's one of those fics that i would recommend even to the most vehement mpreg hater, because there IS something about it that differentiates it from typical fics like that.

AND DESCRIBING IT AS A DREAM COME TRUE IS SO CORRECT? Everything you said in that third paragraph specifically was so fucking real. The fic starts off as such an absolute disaster situation, and despite the multiple disasters along the way, you can absolutely tell that it was like fate in a way? Holly does an incredible job of balancing the understandable stress with the joy and all the happy moments, as well as acknowledging the fact that in the end, Elway seriously did enrich both of their lives. I LOVE THAT YOU POINTED OUT HOW YOU WERE WORRIED ABOUT THE BABY COMING BETWEEN THEM... because it's true!!! It's such a real concern, but she is so good about wrapping it up; the scenes after Kyle gets Elway feel like a dream sequence in how floaty and happy everyone is, and while reading it I was like (as someone who does not want kids), huh. Maybe I need to have a baby? LOLL but seriously you are so right. It IS endless and now they have even more love to go around because of Elway... whatever. WHATEVER!! I'm not even crying. I'm NORMAL!!!!

I totally get your feelings about creek!! I ended up feeling kind of similarly. I'm happy you started expanding your horizons!!! There's nothing wrong with sticking with exclusively creek fic, obv, but there are some real gems out there if you're able to push some of the icks to the side. And maybe you'll even figure out a new ship you like? I remember that I was afraid to read Other People's Tupperware at first because Tweek is literally dead, and Craig hooks up with Kenny? But then I decided to read it (and felt neutral about it!) and it was valuable to me. And then when I read it a few years later, I really loved it. It got me thinking that first time!!! I'M HAPPY I COULD HELP GIVE YOU THAT PUSH!!!

Talking about holly (or any other fic) to me will NEVER bother me so pls feel free to do so!!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE EPILOGUE!! It is sweet and so delightful. AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I CAN EVER GIVE YOU ANY OTHER SUGGESTIONS!!

Thank you SOO much for this ask!! It seriously made my day.

[nathank77]

6/19/24

8:50 a.m Edited/Added to

So of course last night was the first time I forgot to write down my closed eyes time, why? My timer went off for Mouthwash I was super tired and I was fighting my eyes and I was like yea right you won't fall asleep, you'll need to pee. I was like I'll close my eyes and in 5 or 10 minutes use Mouthwash. I believe my timer went off at 10:59 but Idk. I was out like a light. Dead to the world. I woke up at like 5:30 a.m. I tried to sleep until like 6:15 a.m and I couldn't fall back to sleep. I didn't want to use drugs bc I don't want to wake up at like 12 p.m or even 10 a.m. I want to wake up everyday at like 8 a.m the latest... In order to keep a strict circadian rhythm and fight circadian rhythm disorder you need to be strict about your sleep/wake cycle.

I probably got like 6 hours and 15 minutes of sleep. Still not a single 7 hour night but I'm getting closer. I think my circadian rhythm is adjusting.

Unfortunately tonight I need to go back to a half mg. Or at least try.. I'm going to take my half mg at 9:30... so I can take the other half by like 11 p.m or something after 1 hour of closing my eyes and presumably failing. We will see what happens. If I have to take the second half... at that point it'll be day 3 and by day 4 my tolerance will forever be raised.. so tomorrow I'll just take the full mg and accept it.

Today I started laundry. All my attic clothes from my old dresser will be complete and put in a bin. Stupidly bc I'm a hoarder i tried to go through it but can't make my mind up for various reasons.. so I decided to wash it all and decide later. Some of the basketball shorts are brand name but very small... I mean I have good reasons for being like idk. I'm also going to put tide cold wash directly on the arm pit stains and see if it comes off my second load... I mean some of the pit stains got removed from a general wash in it.. so maybe I can save all my nice shirts. I'm keeping them regardless bc I know I can try different things to lift the hard surface stains over time.

I emailed the board and asked if i could provide more documentation like my night at the psych ward and my primary care for documentation of my insomnia.

I put my graduation stuff in that corner. It isn't perfect but it looks better. I might move more posters around today.

I got to go grocery shopping and return my gloves. I'm also going to pick up my testosterone today. I'm going to do all of this before my t-shot at 3:45 p.m so I can come home and shower.

My sister has a tripod I'm waiting on so I can get my car photo shoot pictures. I might make some phone calls before I go to the grocery store.

I'm getting shit done. I really hope I don't have to raise my tolerance but we will see.

Also I detailed pooping problems on my sleep tracker. I started 2000mg of white mulberries 4 days before I had some problems and l salivarius 3 days before. It could be l salivarius. It could be a change in the way I eat which I'm fixing. Idk but we will first start changing my eating order and see if it fixes it, if it doesn't, then we will take out l salivarius if that doesn't work I'll take my white mulberries to 1500 again... and see if that works. Then try l salivarius again.

I have a feeling it's my sleep schedule with the eating habits being changed but we will see. As I had 4 days of the white mulberries and 3 days of l salivarius that everything was normal and then I didnt sleep...

My hallucination is making me want to die. It's whatever this is my quality of life.

[threenorth]

HeadSwriel-Headbeat-? #701

My head is spinning like a washing machine, with paints and colours instead of soap, staining my shirt of untrusive thoughts, in the colours I haven't seen in years, it's like the days I was on the run, seeing those mental colours of pain and suffering I long forgot, I'm in fear for my life,

Run, run to the beep, like your life depends on it, gotta be running from the truma of life, it's derailing my sanity.

give me, give me a loraza, l I need some loraza, I only have one left for an emergency and I keep telling myself it could be worse, and I have faith it isn't that bad.

The voice of treason speaks to me, when I need reason, is it actually worse then before or is actually bad now, I thought I asseseted the situation, but shit changes like that, so I cant use my loraza, and I need to hold off, wait a few more days to get more, I've gone through nine in 3 months, that's pretty good righhhht? Rigggghttt?

*wam-bam-octagon-commentary-boomge-rannger-orange- tangerine-anera- orangutan-*

Fuck my head, it's pulsing, it's palpitating, can you feel the rush of fear, lungs tighting, can't breathe, not getting oxygen to the brain, I gotta remember my training, something needs to ground me, ground me to the flat feet I have, that need to touch the souls of the land, what's the count.... 5 things I can se-.. *swuriel*

Head pulsing, head rush, it's a tie dye, psych colours, Can you hear the sweet sound of orange blissem of pain, the colours pain blue sharp pain of tinus, never going away but comes and goes, but you can you smell the colour of fear?

It reminds you that your alive, no rush of calming agents, it was only last week, you can't live in fear, you have to keep pushing forwards, regardless of the pains you feel, it's not here and this wasn't your place to have pain,

You'll say your an empath, and you can feel the discomfort in the force, and feel the aurua of pain and darkness, a kid lost his life, you still have yours, after all the times it could of been taken from you, you gotta keep that head up and be strong.

(FDR) there's nothing to be scared of but fear it's self.

Feeling like an Green Beret, sweep your eyes notice everything, see the people trying to get home, wondering when the next bus is coming, Feel your body checking your sides, checking your surroundings, something isn't right and you don't have to live in fear, you aren't on the run, remember the days of flight, of the fake outs truma jumps, the days of freeze are here and hopefully going away soon enough, but when it comes to fight, we gotta remember Doc said that I am a good man, and being once a weak man, I know and understand the power of strength, and compassion.

A flash into the past,

We now raise my skinny hands up mentally shield in hand, sword reday to do something I shouldn't,

Do you remember when you had to say, I can do this all day, just like the back end streets of a school ground back, in those side streets of Brooklyn, back then we had a heart of gold, and everyone wanted a part of it.

In the days we had to live with the pain, not telling people about the pains we face everyday, I got to meet MacDaddy, he was such a nice guy, but I told him I'm stuck in football camp, and loving his sound of number dos, had to ask him to go back to his roots, but I didn't know he was dealing with his daddy's death, and I too kind of know that second hand pain of having a dad die, I too had that guilt but I was dealing with my PTSD, and hearing the love of my life stuck in my head asking me if I'm okay when my life would worp slowly, numbing myself to the pains of Ian telling me I've got down the toilet bowl. I couldn't tell her, I couldn't, it had been only a year, and I'm worse off then when I left her that day in tears, but I'm going to be okay?

Gerard says that I know Audrey and play d&d like all the cool kids, using a math book grid paper, playing Xbox, those were the days I felt would last forever but now I have depression of yesteryear, and I shouldn't, and now I look back on all the times they fleeted into a memory, you don't know the power of a moment until it becomes a memory in a timeless soul loosing track of time, with no sense of direction miles gave me both directions at once, and I'm a salmon up stream.

We can do this, it's time to fight again.

I almost missed my stop, was in a it of mental trance, maybe this is healing... But I don't have a clue if I'm going up or down, but at least I'm starting to get back to my feelings, they said it's short term, 3 years short or is it now bipolar because I wasn't seen in enough time...

I don't know the answers, but I know I'm brave to get my diagnosis, she taught me how to be brave, I hope she had learnt the lesson of strength, I don't talk about my pains often, I don't want people being scared for me, because now she's back and everything is okay...

Her smile is still burnt in my memory, but her voice is the only medicine I need now, I don't need a loraza, I need a ren, but I'm playing my ren, because this was the art I wanted to make, before I lost who I was,

I tried making art about that time, but the sweet orange bliss found me, maybe I'll revisit those lyrics but for now it's just to much to bear. I wonder if I can read my words, I wonder if I'll be telported back in that bar, a hell of place... I'm going back to the place, maybe this time Jenny won't sing to me to run.

Home at at last, if you want to call this place home, but it ain't mine, my home, it's a place where her two arms wrapped around me, and I want to go home... Home to her, back to the mountains.

[throwingmuses]

need 2 vent about the shit show that was the doctors appt i had yesterday 🤩 cw for weight ment and other eating disorder stuff

ok so basically its been an extreme pain to get into this ed program because i need medical clearance (including blood work) before i can start bc the clinic isnt equipped to help treat medical issues. essentially i have to have a doctor order the blood test or else id have to pay out of pocket and order the tests myself (which i definitely dont have the money for rn), but the soonest appointment my doctor had available was over a month out. so i tried going to several of those walk in clinics and all of them gave me some convoluded answer essentially saying they couldnt help me. finally i found someplace that let me make an appointment with another doctor that was a bit sooner than my other one, so i went ahead and did that. i walked into it expecting it to be pretty brief, and i was confused at first why the doctor was doing a psych assessment when all i needed was a quick physical checkup??? but i was really tired and confused so i just went along with it anyways. from the second i walked in the doctor seemed very irritated and was acting rude for literally no reason. i tried to just let it roll off my shoulders because i desperately needed someone to just order these goddamn blood tests and sign a paper saying im good to go. but then, when she asked me my current height/weight, i told her that i was 5'4 and 120lb, to which she actually fucking responded by saying "Wow, you weigh more than me!" which was EXTREMELY TRIGGERING and has been fucking haunting me in the form of obsessive thoughts ever since. she also implied that my current therapist/psychiatrist wasnt very informed because shes a recent graduate when in reality shes the most knowledgable and up front psych ive ever had and this bitch who thinks shes the hot shit didnt even know that there were different types of bipolar disorder. clearly her "knowledge" of psychology as a whole is extremely outdated. anyways towards the end of the meeting, she told me straight up that the clinic probably wouldnt accept me because im at a healthy weight which is total bullshit because thats not how it works whatsoever and i was already ACCEPTED into the program regardless of my weight. ive had this issue a lot over the years with providers not believing that im anorexic because ive never lost a significant amount of weight and the worst medical issue ive had was having low potassium and almost passing out at work, and im forever fucking baffled as to why that is because i often eat less than 1000 calories per day. like im grateful for my body continuing to take care of me despite all of the hell i put it through, but just because im healthy on paper doesnt mean this shit doesnt terrorize me on a daily basis. anyways at that point i just fucking snapped (which is very out of character for me cuz im rather shy) and i told her that she had no idea what she was even talking about, that anyone with half a brain let alone a degree in psychology shouldnt talk to someone with an eating disorder like that (which she KNEW i had walking into this bc thats what the whole appointment was about), and explaining to her that the stress i have around food is ruining my life and preventing me from doing pretty much anything i want/have to do. after yelling at her she changed her disposition entirely and started acting like a dog with its tail between its legs which was pretty gratifying at least. i was like openly sobbing very loudly afterward tho and like everyone in the office could hear me which i found to be embarassing but Oh Well. then me and my bf talked to her supervisior and told them what happened and they were actually very receptive and apologetic so heres to hoping she gets fired (: also she wasnt even a fuckin doctor so the whole thing was pointless but luckily i got an earlier appointment with my doctor cuz someone cancelled But Yeah Ive Been Fucked Up Ever Since

[of-another-broken-heart]

I’m just going to copy/paste this because it took me hours and I’m drained. 

I guess I have to format it again if I want it to show up at all... 

I couldn't even make it back home before breaking down crying again.

Driving while chronically sleep deprived, exhausted, fatigued, and dissociating is bad enough. Doing it with all that AND without being able to see? How special. 

I barely had time to sit down, my phone rang. I answered it, begging for someone to hear me. For thirty straight seconds. "Hello? Hello? Hello???" Finally someone spoke, but they couldn't hear me. I'm sobbing. They hung up. I scrambled to call back, from my computer, because at least then I'm not fighting a lack of reception as well as my anxiety. They called again. I didn't answer. I waited for my computer to ring through instead. I'm put on hold.  I'm sobbing. It was just to ask what my pharmacy is. Which I already answered on my paperwork. Which I answered, again, at check-out. And I was forced into a third confirmation via a pointless, needless, anxiety-attack inducing phone call hazing. For something I already answered. 

It's not fucking fun. People don't choose this. I didn't choose this. But does it matter? "Call," the command comes. "Just call." "Call to confirm." "Call to ask." "Call." "Call." "Call." 

I want you to think of something that takes physical hold of your body and brings to you to tears. I want you to hold that and sit with it until it does those things. I want you to choose to reduce yourself to a sobbing mess, struggling to breathe, alone. And I want you to picture a world where you are commanded, demanded, required to do this. For virtually everything. Imagine needing help - but you must first re-traumatize yourself with your most painful memories until your nose is running and your eyes burn from crying. And you're exhausted for the rest of the day, too. Maybe multiple days. Absolutely exhausted. So fucking depleted that taking yourself to the bathroom is almost impossible. Feeding yourself - even eating something out of a can, or microwaved - is a herculean effort. Does that sound fun? Of course not. 

As for the appointment itself: It's the same. Much better bedside manner. But it's the same underlying capitalism-serving "care" system. It's my fault. I'm not trying hard enough. I'm not blacking out alone on the side of the road enough. I haven't dissociated hard enough and/or blacked out while driving yet, so it can't be that bad, right? Not until I'm maimed or dead, right? Why address the root of a problem when we can just plaster on endless band-aids instead? When we can blame you for hurting, instead of the environment that's poisoning you? I'm not medically sedating myself into an obedient little wage slave, and that's the real problem. I should aspire to produce capital for someone with most of the remaining hours of my life. That's the purpose of living, that's the reason for "health"care - not to care about health, no, just to keep the wheels of capitalism well-oiled with wasted human life. Inherent human value? Quality of life? Nah. 

They refused my medical history. I brought the 72-page pdf on a flash drive. Because that's how I was given it. Because I can't afford to buy and operate a personal fax machine and/or print out a chapter book's worth of pages of medical records. I went through the trouble of getting the files, and it took over a month - only to be told "we can't take anything but paper or fax." I filled out a file release form as best I could. But I didn't have the phone number or address memorized. Not even before that place became synonymous with medical neglect and trauma for me. So now they're going to go through the ancient months-long ritual of requesting the self-fucking-same documents from LISH, either by mail or fax, because they "can't" access a flash drive or a pdf or use email. Welcome to 2021. We're back to "normal" and teleheath never existed and the internet is fake and technology is a myth and why do anything efficiently when you can waste time and do damage to people instead? My Aunt called to check in on me during her lunch break. (Thank you again) She offered to get the file printed and try to hand it in for me. I'm too tired to hope. I'm too exhausted to think they'll accept it without fuss. Anything and everything to make things harder.

Top priority order of business is the whole "diseased for life" thing. Hashimoto's thyroiditis. Hypothyroidism. Daily hormones for every day of the rest of forever, gatekept behind eternal doctor visits and prescriptions and pharmacies and copays and and and and did I mention this is forever? I've got a referral to have a thyroid sonogram done. Haven't ever had one of those before. Need to make that appointment. I was able to have my blood drawn for the thyroid testing without needing an additional appointment, which was a nice change of pace. Normally you're supposed to fast for that, but I wasn't expecting that could be done during the visit. Three years of having to make additional trips to the lab for blood work. I ate immediately before getting there, so hopefully nothing had a chance to metabolize and skew the results. Even though it was great not to have to juggle yet another appointment for health shit, it was stressful. The nurse took three tries before she had all the supplies she needed in the room. I already have anxiety spikes (which also raise my blood pressure and heart rate) for all doctor visits now. (White Coat Syndrome, I learned, it's called) I didn't need to have a rubber cable tied around my arm, popped off, tied again, popped off, and tied a third and final time to make it worse. A pro to that con: she was incredibly accurate and gentle. I normally have sub-dermal bleeding and some bruising after having blood drawn, and keep the bandage on for a day or two. The bandage didn't last even an hour after I got home - but there wasn't a single spot of trapped blood, and I almost couldn't even tell where she stuck me.

I have another new diagnosis to add to my growing collection. Hypertension. High blood pressure. I used to have slightly low blood pressure. It stunned the first doctor I ever saw (you know, because I'm fat, so that sort of thing is supposed to be ~impossible~) and it frustrated my last doctor at first, too. But now, with years of building stress and anxiety? It's almost like living with your most basic human needs barely provided (food, shelter, healthcare - let's not bring up social needs LMAO those don't count anyway, right?), and at constant risk of being taken away, for months (years, in some cases) on end, is some form of stress. It's almost like being constantly dismissed and told "you're just not trying hard enough" (WHILE TRYING YOUR BEST JUST TO SURVIVE EACH DAY) is some form of stress!It's almost like perpetual, ongoing, worsening stress has a negative impact on your heart! It's almost like there are decades of data that spell this out, plain as day!It's almost like I noticed my elevated heart rate back in NOVEMBER and mentioned it out of concern to my last doctor - who dismissed it outright because my reading in-office wasn't *that* bad, and also shouldn't I be on 5487 psych meds instead? If I was sedated out of my mind, I wouldn't be physically capable of feeling stress in my body despite the presence of real-world stress factors. That's healthy, right? Don't bother to solve the stressors, just neuter the body's response to them. Super healthy response. (Not) My GYN took note of my concern in December, when my vitals DID show as high in-office. Not that my GYN had the jurisdiction to do anything about it. I'm being put on another medication to try to mitigate this, and potentially also address some anxiety. I haven't picked it up yet. I don't know the name. I don't know if I'll be able to afford it. "Your copay is only a dollar!" Yes well, when you don't have a dollar, you can't afford a dollar, can you?

I was given a list of psychiatrists. To "Call!!"Precisely none of them are a reasonable distance away. Nearly half aren't even in my insurance network. Some explicitly exclude Medicaid. Others are exclusively for children. I was suggested a medication for depression and anxiety. I can't remember which one. Either Abilify or Lexapro? I declined it for now, either way. I wanted to be able to research it. Lexapro is just another SSRI and I already know those don't work for me. Adding a chemical bouncer to my brain to make sure the happy chemicals stay out to play doesn't help when there are no happy chemicals in the first place. A quick search for Abilify doesn't address anxiety at all so it was probably Lexapro. In which case, I am not interested in repeating a different-flavor-Prozac experience. It was not good. I didn't get any notes with that medication, regardless. I got a sticky note with "Valerian Root Extract (tea or tincture)" and "Magnesium Glycinate 2 capsules" scribbled on it, instead. Out-of-pocket home rem-maybes. I can't afford to experiment with snake oils, so mostly I'll probably just spend a bunch of time looking for data and research and studies for those substances, and that's it. If I get around to psychiatric care, I will have to start from scratch in my insurance's shoddy search tool, again. And, frankly, it's not a priority. My mental health struggles are the result of a lot of physical factors and external/social factors, and no amount of artificial chemicals bullying my brain is going to solve any of it. When your car starts leaking oil, you don't just commit to buying more oil forever and dribbling it all over, wherever you go. You fix the fucking leak. If your house has a gas leak, you don't invest in gas masks. You fix the fucking leak. If you end up with a burst pipe, you don't commit to wasting water and money and damaging your environment. You fix. The fucking. Leak. But in these comparisons, I'm getting prescribed oil and gas masks and infinite water damage/waste/bills as long-term care.

I mentioned my fatigue. It was the final straw that made me give up with the last doctor. It just keeps getting worse. It's been getting worse for over 3 years. And I'm so, so fucking tired of it getting pinned fully on the fact that I'm not on psych meds. I WAS on psych meds during part of those 3 years with my last doctor. And it didn't fucking make any difference! A daily chemical lobotomy does not address or restore my lack of physical energy. My decades-old medication-resistant insomnia has never vanished with psych meds before, and it's not likely to do it now. Especially not with yet another of the same family of chemicals that I already know don't work. I want my concern to be taken seriously. I don't want it just brushed into the mental health corner, again. Being too tired to even do the things you used to enjoy - no one fucking wants this! I don't want this! I miss being able to go for walks. I miss going to the gym. I miss seeing how much I could do, and feeling good, and feeling strong. And I can't do any of that now. Not without risking harming myself in the process. 

No one wants this. I keep talking, but it feels like no one listens. At the earliest opportunity, we're back to repeating the same tired old shit that doesn't work. I try to come prepared, and the stress and time and system make sure I fail to stand up for myself anyway. I didn't get to document my disordered eating history. The relapse this year. Restricting, sometimes to the point of not eating at all. I declined to be weighed, because I want my care to be based on relevant data, vitals, blood results - not the shape and size of my body. But I was too tired to realize I needed to dodge a verbal ask for the same information. Which, it turns out, is nearly as bad a trigger as having the scale spit it out for me. Being your own advocate for equal care, when you're already tapped out? I'm not winning that challenge. 

I'm frustrated. I'm not giving up, but I am frustrated and beyond tired. I don't really expect anyone to read this mess. But it's here.

[dazedandlucid]

hi! i got a question abt fic writing: what are your thoughts on giving fic characters bad traits (i.e. being a cheater)? bc i remember back then there was a harry styles fic that got criticized bc he was a whole ass player who pushed the main girl around a lot. people kept saying he was a real person who didnt deserve to be given that image, but at the same time people defended it bc it was fan FICTION. is it okay? also would it be required to give the character a redemption arc?

cw: discussions of abuse in fiction, though not explicitly

*referring to harry styles as hs for brevity

the thing about after is, it’s not just “bad traits” but traits of an abusive toxic controlling character. it’s the “broody emo damaged badboy” on steroids. this archetype is as old as time and it’s almost always boring unless you’re trying to deconstruct it or say something with its portrayal. or at the bare minimum, are a good writer? on paper, there’s nothing inherently wrong with writers, female or otherwise, exploring this character, even as a purely porn fantasy, which after obviously is. when you add rpf to the mix, that’s when it gets dicey, because as much as it should be treated as a fully separate entity from the actual people depicted, there is a huge difference between your random fanfic sitting forever on wattpad and you taking that fic, barely changing it so what it originally was is still pretty clear, and then completely commodifying the bastardization of another human being’s public persona and making a shit ton of money off of that commodification. after is not the mortal instruments where, unless you were already in the know, you had no idea it was originally draco/harry fanfiction. nothing about its marketing or general buzz ever mentioned hp (as far as i remember but please correct me if i’m wrong! obviously the internet wasn’t back then what it is now. and draco and harry aren’t real people just someone else’s ip, but hopefully you get my point). after is known as the hs fanfic, it is part of its -nebulous but still there- marketing. as much as after does not truly represent anything about actual hs’ public persona or person, it has benefited from its association to him. other than the fact that rpf is inherently morally grey regardless of how respectful you try to write your characters, the profiteering off of someone else’s public persona, while not expressly illegal, adds to the already grey as fuck moral conundrum of it all. there’s also clear indication that hs was and is not comfortable with this and that alone should be enough to answer your question.

but instead of framing it as “is this okay” i think it’s more functional to frame it as “is this necessary?” and from my point of view, it’s not. these types of stories, regardless if fanfic or not, aren’t offering anything other than fantasy, and romanticize abuse. and while yes, a lot of consumers are aware of its toxicity and loudly point out that that’s “the point”, they don’t seem to be willing to think about why they want to romanticize these types of stories so badly. that said, the bad boy archetype is so for a reason. there’s something in a lot of people’s psyches, product of socialization or not, that attracts this type of character. for some, it truly is just a fantasy and escapism. but if fiction were just fiction, representation would not matter. lit crit/analisys would not be a thing. these types of stories are fiction, fantasy, but fiction, even hyper fantasy a la GOT, is a mirror to our societies. abuse is very much, even in fiction, not a fantasy.

[adonis-koo]

bury a friend

|3|

Note: Getting shit done this week 😌 this was suppose to be the last part but it’s not ??? Psych. Anyways took me forever but I hope u guys enjoy 🖤

Pairing: Yandere!Taehyung/Reader, Jungkook/Reader

Plot: Taehyung was always different. Ever since you were kids he had always been different. Constantly in and out of the psych ward but that never stopped you from liking him when you were little. He was like the brother you never had. Unfortunately after moving in together your life turns into a nightmare that you can’t wake up from.

Word count: 4546

Previous | Next | Part 1

-

“What a freak!” The words were spat out by the loud laughing boys as they huddled around the younger grade boy. Shoving him down to the ground as he grunted, Taehyung was ready to stand up and simply ignore them, it’s all he could do right?

The wind was knocked out of him as a kick swiftly came to his stomach and another wheezing from the other kindergarten boys. He expected the next one to come just as ruthlessly as the last but it never came as he heard a shrilled shout, “Don’t be so mean!”

The other boys turned around like deer in headlights before slowly dispersing away from him. Confused Taehyung looked up from his mop of hair to see a girl roughly the same age, stomping her foot in her white dress as she glowered at them, a dab of dirt smudged across her nose and scraps on her knees from playing, “Go away L/n he’s just a freak,” The pack leader replied scoffing, glaring down at the him harshly. She only stomped her foot again before chucking the baseball she held in her hand at the boy, “I don’t care! Get away from him!”

The boys, quickly cowered from the hotheaded girl as they ran away, making her huff as she crossed her arms before letting her look melt away. She quickly ran up to Taehyung, concern written in her doe eyes as she asked, “Are you okay?”

It was the first time in his young life, anyone had ever asked that, his lips had parted and his eyes shone brightly as if an angel had descended from heaven its self and graced him with her presence. Bashfully Taehyung looked away as he nodded, “I’m fine...you didn’t have to do that, nobody likes me anyways...”

She only frowned for a second, looking away before grinning again, holding her hands down towards him in offerance to help him up, “Well...I think you’re pretty okay, we can be friends if you’d like! Im L/n Y/n!”

It was the first time Taehyung could recall anyone ever being so kind to him, it was the only time anyone had ever been kind to him. Sure people had come along later in middle school, but they were always fake and backstabbers. And anyone in high school always had ulterior motives or they simply wanted to be with him for his looks.

There was no pure person in this world outside of his precious Y/n, you were, in a way, his hope the world wasn’t all terrible, his life line. He couldn’t let you go. No not when you were the only thing holding him together. It didn’t matter if you didn’t want to be with him it wasn’t your choice to decide. In fact it absolutely crushed him, how could you be so selfish? You were perfect, you couldn’t be selfish to get rid of him, to no longer want to be with him.

Staring down at your passed out figure as he mused all these things, leaning down to stroke your cold cheek lovingly. You could push and scream but no one could hear you down here. You could deny it all you wanted but you loved him, you had too. Because angels loved everyone. His temper flared briefly for a moment, nobody should ever be allowed to feel your warmth or kindness besides himself. They didn’t deserve it.

Especially that sniveling Jeon, just the memory of how he held you at the damnable party made a hot flash of anger take over. Taehyung would make him regret ever being born, putting his filthy hands on his angel, his world. Swallowing thickly he stood up, glancing down at you one last time before he turned around, stepping up the old creaking stairs of the basement to let his little angel rest while he decided to do something about that police dog that would eventually come sniffing around.

-

Attention: young girl of 21 has been reported missing over 3 weeks ago L/n Y/n, roughly y/h with h/c and e/c last seen on campus grounds-

The TV suddenly turned off in the break room as Jungkook gripped the remote tightly with white knuckles, unable to stomach the broadcast report again. Where could he have taken you? His CO only groaned as he sighed, “Calm down Jungkook, we’re going to find her.” Yoongi shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he filed through the paper work, briefing himself but not quite paying as close attention as he knew he should’ve.

“It’s been 3 weeks,” Jungkook finally released the remote as he grunted unamused, not liking the idea at all of sitting around waiting for evidence to show up when you could be out there potentially being tortured if not killed already, “And there’s been no progress on the case.” At this rate they were going to close the case as cold and simply write you off as missing presumed dead. The thought made his stomach churn sickingly as Jungkook gritted his teeth, “If we could just get into her apartment-“

“Jungkook,” his CO Yoongi sighed once more, dropping the papers he held onto the table, finally resigning that he wouldn’t make any progress with the younger kid around, “We can’t do that without a warrant and with everything else going on I severely doubt the judge will pass it.”

Sighing his shoulders dropped before shaking his head, Yoongi was right but it’s not as though it made him feel any better. Ever since your disappearance kidnapping and homicide rates had spiked leaving the police department sparse on resources and while Jungkook assumed they were connected his CO wasn’t as superstitious.

A hand suddenly smacked Jungkook’s back heartily and a can slammed against the table he stood at, “Cheer up Kook last I heard up at the main station they spotted a black ‘89 Ford Mustang about a half an hour ago.” Jimin stood beside his friend, watching his eyes sink to the energy drink before shooting up in surprise to look at him, “The licenses plate matched?”

This was where Jimin’s face dropped slightly, having never been good at concealing his emotions Jungkook sighed again as Jimin gave a sympathetic smile, “They’re trying to get a fix on the plates from the camera feed off of the area they spotted it in but I was leaving when they first started working on it. We’ll probably hear from them in a few hours if they find anything.”

It was already nearing nine at night but Jungkook hadn’t been sleeping regardless, it would be another late night whether it was spent in station or at home. Pressing his lips together he looked at the clock over head as the idea popped into his mind, it was a bad one of course.

But thankfully his best friend was always up for a shitty late night decisions, “Well I’m going to clock out and try to get some rest. I’ll see you both later.” Jungkook replied coolly. Making his CO curve an eyebrow watching him carefully as Yoongi replied, “Oh? Well good, get some rest kid you’ll need it.”

Jungkook had already began to walk out of the break room as Yoongi called out, “And Jeon, stay out of trouble.”

Jungkook only threw him a nod that Yoongi knew all too well was a dismissive one, and whatever he had in mind was simply going to do anyways. Jimin being the curious cat he was quickly said his goodbyes to their superior before slinking away to find his friend. Catching up to Jungkook who was on his way out to his car Jimin huffed as he asked, “What are we doing?”

“Getting changed first of all,” Jungkook flicked his friends forehead as he whined rubbing the spot, “Meet me at my house in an hour okay? We have a lot of work to do.”

Sighing Jimin shrugged before nodding, figuring he’d get the run down when he arrived later that night. Now all that was left to do was get takeout and change into civilian wear.

-

Cold hands, cold heart. Bruised knee’s and empty eyes. Blood crusted finger nails, stringy hair and blurry vision. The list of your ragged appearance could go on for more then an hour if you had any strength left to think. Pressing your chapped lips together you rolled onto your back, the wet concrete uncomfortable against your skin.

A violent shiver was sent up your spine, making you curl against yourself again as you closed your eyes. Hoping tears would fall and yet none came. You had become numb to any sensation there was left too feel. All you could do was simply breath, even thinking had become to much for you to bear. Eventually the basement door opened with a loud scrap letting you know it was time. Another day with the devil.

His footsteps were heavy making them echo off the walls that accompanied a splash from the floor. Your breathe hitched and your movement stilled, maybe if he thought you were dead he’d finally let you rest. It was only wishful thinking though as Taehyung hauled you up, scooping you into his arms as if you were delicate porcelain. Which you rightfully were, your body was sore, bruised and bartered. He brought you upstairs to the unfamiliar apartment.

The black and white tiling for the kitchen appeared beyond dated and the wallpaper was crumbled and peeling off the corners of the walls. Your vision was spotted though and you couldn’t focus on any of the details for much longer. Your conscious had begun going in and out. One moment you were in the kitchen. The next you were in a bathroom with Taehyung undressing you.

You almost briefly remember the warmth of water touching your skin but you weren’t really sure anymore. The next moment you were fully conscious you were against something soft and under atleast four layers of blankets. Had it all just been a bad dream?

Attempting to stretch you were stopped in your tracks at the all too familiar arms that coiled tightly around you. Taehyung’s nose was buried in your neck and his arms tightly wrapped around your waist, squeezing occasionally as you noted he seemed to be whimpering in his sleep. Your body felt tense and slowly, almost cautiously you turned around to face him.

Hesitantly you lifted a hand, stopping for a moment as it hovered over his cheekbone before gently stroked his face, his muscles clenched before relaxing as he took a deep breath in.

His whining had ceased and he relaxed fully as his breathes began to even. Taehyung looked oddly innocent in that moment, his chestnut locks fallen just above his eyebrows and his square jaw looked soft as his lips parted slightly.

He didn’t look like a murder, or a psychopath. He just looked like Taehyung. The beating of your heart would’ve alarmed any other person but he hadn’t killed you yet, and he had killed many. Your face was becoming red and you knew it wasn’t right but he bathed and fed you. This wasn’t love, it couldn’t be, could it?

But his arms made you feel so safe, but they were the same ones that had maimed you on many occasions. But you had rightfully deserved it, right? When you tried to escape, or the time you had put arsenic in his dinner, you had deserved it every time.

As long as you were a good girl, he wouldn’t hurt you. Convincing yourself that was the truth you let your body relax before inevitably hugging closer to him, burying yourself into his body as you let sleep over take you once more.

The next time you woke up it was the morning, stretching out before curling back up against the warmth of another body as you sighed contently. A large hand began to stroke down your back as a raspy morning voice met your ears, “Morning sweetheart, sleep well?”

You shifted again, wrapping your arms all the way around him, afraid to speak, not trusting your voice as it always seemed to get you in trouble. You simply nodded, keeping your eyes shut as he gave a hum, satisfied with your answer. Curiously you peeped your eyes open, you were laying on top of him, both of his arms looped around you and his gaze was focused ahead.

After a moment you realized he must’ve been on his phone, Taehyung’s gaze after another second flickered down towards you as a coy smirk pulled on his lips, “You’ve been such a good girl baby,” without realizing it a shy grin took place on your lips as you felt another stroke from his hand, burying your face into the crook of his neck as he hummed, “Wanna go downstairs for breakfast?”

Your head popped up again, with parted lips and a low growl of your stomach, he was gonna let you have breakfast with him? Excitedly you nodded again as he laughed. Pinching your cheeks before ruffling your hair, “You’re so damn cute, you know that?” Taehyung practically cooed out before sitting up as you got off him, “Come on, let’s make something to eat.”

Eagerly you followed behind him, noticing you had been put in one of his shirts, oversized by nature which made the material reach the mid of your thighs. Regardless you were hungry and weren’t going to pitch a fit when you could be eating. You hadn’t been allowed in the kitchen since the arsenic incident but you were glad he had moved past it because you had as well. Taehyung had made you sit on the counter while he made pancakes, a twinge stabbed in you saying he still didn’t trust you. Why did it upset you so much?

You hadn’t realized how much your fingers twitched until Taehyung had grabbed them, evaluating your expression, eyes darkened as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Your lips quivered looking away for a second, debating on telling him for a moment. What if he got upset? No you couldn’t risk that, shaking your head you finally spoke, “N-nothing. When will breakfast be done?” You peered over his shoulder at the skillet where pancakes had laid half cooked and near ready to be flipped. Taehyung looked at you for a moment, knowing well he didn’t buy your answer but said nothing about the topic before offering a smile, ruffling your hair, “In a few babe, wanna start frying up the bacon for me?”

Your eyes lit up as you nodded rapidly, quickly hopping off the counter as he chuckled at your eagerness. You made your way over as Taehyung followed behind getting the pan out for you. It had been a suspiciously pleasant morning as you ate together.

Taehyung had filled the silence with rambling about this and that as you listened, but never chipping in or contributing. Not out of disinterested but more so out or not wanting to anger him if you said something wrong. Eventually he had let you both go to the living room to put on a movie.

When was the last time you had even seen a TV? Laying down on top of him you let out a yawn as you snuggled back down against his neck, his arms wrapped around you as his fingers massaged into your hair. Letting your eyes fall asleep you sighed contently, it seemed after a long hellish time things were finally going back to normal.

---

| 9 hours previously |

Jimin wiggled in his seat, his fingers fumbling with his chopsticks in attempt to get the noodles up from the styrofoam takeout box as he pressed his lips together, focused on his meal but still asking, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Gripping the stirring wheel Jungkook pressed his lips together, looking towards his friend for a moment before back towards the road. This wasn’t a good idea, but that was the purpose of bringing Jimin along, because even if it wasn’t Jimin loved bad ideas.

And even if it wasn’t a good idea you needed help that wasn’t going to be provided by the police force which meant he’d have to take matters into his own hands to insure you were safe, “Would we be here if it was?”

Jimin puckered his lips wistfully for a moment while chewing, swallowing as he gave a hum shrugging, “Good point.”

Technically this would be breaking and entering but neither of them were in uniform and this was out of good intention so they wouldn’t be charged with more then a warning. That was if they got caught anyways. And the likelihood of that happening wasn’t very high.

Parking the car Jungkook had grabbed his styrofoam box, eating what was left of his takeout before stepping out of the car with Jimin behind him not too long after. They trailed through the apartment numbers as Jimin looked around, scratching his head as he asked, “Not to make you out like a creep but how do you know where she lives?”

“One of Seokjin’s friends is her best friend, when I mentioned wanting to stop by for evidence he gave me her address before I could even ask.” Jungkook explained as he stopped at the apt number. This was it. Pausing for a minute Jungkook store down the number before reaching up to knock.

Hearing a scoff he turned to look at Jimin who rose a judging brow, “Dude we’re getting ready to dine and dash this place why the hell are you knocking?”

“First of all,” Jungkook paused, licking his lips as though restraining his disgust before turning to his friend, “Never use analogies out of context again. Two it would be real fuckin’ awkward if we met our coworkers again because they’re in there and called the police.”

Knocking once more as if to make a point they both stayed silent for a moment before exchanging looks again, “So anyways, if this bitch is doing some human centipede shit to her do you really think he’s gonna answer the door?” Jimin spoke up looking bored, “I mean for all we know they might be yeeting themselves out a window right- OW!”

Jimin harshly rubbed the spot on his arm Jungkook had previously punched, sparing no mercy in his attack as he shot him an ungrateful look. After another second of silence he pulled out the lockpick kneeling down. There a loud clack causing Jungkook to jumpe before whipping around with a menacing glare, “Are you seriously fucking playing flappy bird right now?”

“What?” Jimin whined out looking up from his phone, his volume at the highest it could go, and it was was honestly a miracle the neighbors from the other apartments hadn’t gone to investigate the commotion, “Don’t look at me like that! It’s the original game, this phones worth like 5k because of it, don’t disrespect the flex.”

Gritting his teeth Jungkook inhaled sharply as he turned back to focus on his work while his useless mogul of a friend continued to play on his phone.

Opening the door he flicked Jimin’s forehead, “Come on let’s get inside before someone see’s us.” Nodding Jimin put his phone away as he turned on the flashlight he had been holding. Stepping inside the dark vacant looking apartment. Everything was pristine but dusty, nobody had been here for days, if not weeks.

Pressing his lips together Jungkook flashed his light around the living room, his eyes scanning over anything that could be a clue until he noticed the laptop that laid on the couch side. Weaving his way over he signaled Jimin to do a sweep over the apartment. Nodding Jimin disappeared down the hallway as Jungkook tapped on the mousepad. The laptop was on ten percent but unlocked without a password.

No signal? Furrowing his eyebrows he opened up his phone noticing there was a WiFi connection for the whole building, was your apartment offline? Why? Biting his lip he attempted to connect to the internet only for a diagnostic message to pop up saying the connection was offline. Just as he suspected. The only answer could be your room mate, just the idea of that shell of a person locking you away from anyone made Jungkook’s blood boil. You of all people would never deserve that kind of treatment. He began to file through your documents, most of them were unfinished essays or thesis’s. But there had to be something here, right?

It made sense though, remembering your last comment the day before you saw you at the party, to not text you.

If the suspect, Kim Taehyung was anything like Jungkook imagined he wouldn’t of been surprised to know he was heavily monitoring all of your devices. This included, thus meaning anything vital to finding you wouldn’t be on here. Sighing he closed the laptop as he heard footsteps.

Looking up towards Jimin who had returned from the hallway, “Cleared, this place must’ve been ghosted weeks ago, powers off and water isn’t running either, lots of dust in the rooms too. Found some pretty interesting shit in the guys room though you might wanna check out.”

With piqued curiosity Jungkook stood up as Jimin lead him back down the hall all the way to the end room, “It was locked when I got here but after a few a few tries I got it open.” Pushing the door open it revealed a particularly plain room. Gray walls with a single window that hadn’t been cleaned in longer then months. Jungkook wasn’t sure what he had expected but the room felt so...lifeless. It was the only way to adequately explain it. Everything was minimal and there was only one book shelf with various items on it next to a dresser. The bed was a twin and nothing else remained in the bedroom. Jungkook’s gaze though stayed on the laptop that sat in the bottom shelf of the book holder as he rose his brows, “Hey Jimin, when was the last time you hacked something?” Walking over he pulled the laptop out as he dusted it off.

Jimin furrowed a brow confused before shrugging, “I don’t know, highschool? Not since that time you convinced me to hack into the intercom to stream Cupcakke and thought it was actually a good idea. I’ve sworn it off ever since.”

“Jimin I was four shots of vodka in when I suggested that, you really can’t blame me,” Jungkook curved an eyebrow as he signaled him over, “Besides you only got suspended for a month.”

Jimin had sat down next to him, taking the laptop into his lap as he cried out almost offended, “A whole month which I got my ass beat repetitively, my mom was fucking livid Jungkook!”

Jungkook puckered his lips before snickering as he replied, “Yeah but that was because not only did you skip school when you did it, but you were also caught in the back drunk.”

“Because you fucking ditched me you jerk!” Jimin snapped back, still sore over the subject as he gave the screenlock a go only to be stopped by the fatal incorrect password system. And that’s when he launched into pulling up the script. Letting him go to work Jungkook said no more, knowing if he did he’d make his friend bail out of unresolved childhood anger.

But whether Jimin was being honest in saying he swore of hacking was true or not he still had his charm as he successfully overwrote the screen lock, “Now sit back and let me see what I can dig up.” Jimin said, a cocky smirk on his lips as he continued to type, pulling up various screens as he began to scan through Taehyung’s emails and documents.

Anxiously a pit began to form in Jungkook’s stomach, this had to give them some sort of clue right? If they weren’t here where could they be? After a few minutes Jimin sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair as he gave his friend an apologetic look, “As far as I’m seeing I don’t know if he has anything on here Kook, I still have a few resources to look through but he where ever he took Y/n...he was thorough in making sure to not leave anything behind.”

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he clenched his fist, exhaling sharply as he looked down towards the ground. Where could they be? If this was a bust Jungkook wouldn’t be able to do anything but wait for the main station to give an update about the licenses plate they had gotten from the mustang. Sighing almost defeatedly he let his hands relax again as he peered beside Jimin at the screen.

Who was variously clipping through the few photos Taehyung had saved in his pictures file. They were mostly of him and Y/n, posing in selfies looking silly. It made Jungkook indefinitely angry again, who the fuck could do this to you? His anger suddenly dissipated as Jimin clipped past another photo, “Wait! Go back!”

Confused Jimin glanced at him as he clicked back a photo, stopping on a precarious one. Taehyung was standing outside an unfamiliar house, it looked fairly dated and he looked like he was still in grade school, posing next to an unfamiliar woman who must’ve been his mom.

“If they aren’t here,” Jungkook licked his lips, stopping for a second, it was a long shot but he was desperate, he was absolutely desperate to find you, remembering your tear stained face as you been ripped away from him and dragged away, “What if they went where he is in that photo? I pulled out his file from the station. His parents are dead Jimin. But what if the house is still in his name?”

“You mean like he inherited it?” Jimin asked furrowing his brow as he glanced back at the photo, “Would make sense, it looks fairly old and judging from the photo there isn’t any neighboring buildings near by.”

Feeling a light of hope stream through his chest Jungkook nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked the question that hung in the air, “Do you think you can get a fix on the location?”

Jimin let out a laugh as he scoffed, curving an eyebrow as he replied, “Kook that’s practically child’s play, I can get it in less then a half hour...Actually now that I think about it, his phone is probably synced up to his laptop, and if not directly then on some sort of social media platform right? It’d be a bit more complicated if that was the case but if his phone is synced I can use it as a tracker to get his exact location.”

Nodding Jungkook swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as he stood up letting Jimin get to work as he walked towards the musty window.

“Don’t worry Y/n, I’m keeping my promise.” Murmuring he looked out towards the gritty dark world. He’d find you, nothing nor anyone would stop him.

[lovemesomesurveys]

If money was no object, would you change your wardrobe? No, it would just add to it even more.

How do you/did you get to school? While in college I either got a ride or had to take the bus. I haaaated taking the bus.

Have you ever been in trouble for something you honestly didn’t do? Yes.

Is the idea of having a secret admirer creepy or romantic? It could go either way. If they were obsessive, stalkerish, or inappropriate, then yeah we’d have a problem.

What was the last song you sung out loud? Walking on a Dream by Empire of the Sun

Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Once. :( He was quite old and his quality of life wasn’t healthy at that point. 

Were you excited to learn to drive, or scared? I still haven’t learned.

What was the last book you read? I just finished one called The Girl Who Vanished by A.J. Rivers

Did you enjoy it, or were you glad to be finished? I really enjoyed it. It was the 2nd book in a series and now I’m starting the 3rd.

Do you ever wonder what other people are thinking when they stare at you? I’d really rather not know.

Have you ever gone out of your way to get someone’s attention? I’ve done some stupid, petty things to try and get a certain guy’s attention or things like posting certain quotes or lyrics. 

When was the last time you felt incredibly tired? I always feel that way, physically and emotionally. Just drained.

What candy cane flavor is your favorite? Just the good ol’ peppermint kind.

In your opinion, who doesn’t deserve to be famous? There are some bad people given a platform and attention they shouldn’t have.

Do you get angry when fast food restaurants mess up your order? It’s very frustrating. We try to check before leaving, but sometimes we forget. 

Have you ever had a ridiculous hair cut? Yes. More ridiculous hairstyles; though, when I was younger.

What was your favorite elective class in high school? Piano.

Did you ever wish you could be homeschooled? Sometimes I felt that way. Was it hard for you to get up this morning? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but I know it will be. It always is. And lately I haven’t been able to get up before 1PM. I try, but it just doesn’t happen.

Have you ever had a dream so realistic you could’ve sworn it happened? Yeppp. Those are trippy. The worst are the ones where I wake up crying. Like full on sobbing. I had one of those a couple days ago.

When was the last time you colored with crayons or colored pencils? A couple of days ago with colored pencils.

Can you remember the first survey you filled out? No, that was like 15 years ago. :O Damn, I wish I could see that now.

Do you have any mental disorders? Yes.

Do you feel comfortable talking about these disorders, if you have them? Yeah, I’ve talked about my major depression and anxiety.

Where did you go on your last field trip? While attending community college I was in the psych club (I was actually one of the board members) and we took a lot of field trips. We visited a few universities and then would do something else nearby for fun. We went to a couple beaches and toured a few museums. It was always a full day trip. We also visited a mental hospital, a women’s prison, and NASA research center.

Are you able to agree to disagree? Or do you have to have the last word? I’m one who tends to just agree to disagree.

Do you think you make a good first impression? I don’t know.

Do other people’s first impressions stick with you? >> It depends on what my first impression was. If it was like “oh my god this person really comes off like a bigot”, yeah, that’s going to stick until explicitly proven otherwise. If it was like “oh hmm this person seems to be in a bad mood” then like, whatever. Moods change. Sometimes you just catch people on a bad day and that doesn’t mean they hate you forever. <<<

Are you friends who you thought they were when you first met? I don’t have any friends.

How have you changed in the past year? I haven’t in the way that I want and need to.

How about in the past five years? A LOT has changed in that amount of time. And not in a good way. Things really went to shit.

What do you do when you feel like giving up on something? >> Sometimes I just give up on it. Other times I take a break. Other times I have a meltdown. Other times I push through. <<<

Have you ever had to give up on someone? Yes.

Would you rather break up with someone, or them break up with you? Neither are great.

Is there a cover song you like better than the original version? Not better, but there are some I like.

Do you think it’s okay to like a cover more than an original? lol there’s no law against it. 

What band do you wish was still making music? I miss Linkin Park. Especially with Chester. :(

Do you still watch any cartoons? Yeah, Rugrats, Hey Arnold, and Doug.

Are you just too lazy to recycle? We recycle cans and plastic bottles.

Think of the last person you talked to–do you love him/her? Yes.

Do you fit your zodiac sign? I’m soooo opposite of how a Leo is described.

What is one of your weak points? I am a weak point.

What is one of your strong points? Uhhh.

Are you calm in emergency situations? No.

When was the last time you cursed at someone? I don’t recall.

Are you afraid of losing someone you love? That is something that I think about. My mind likes to wander to dark places like that. :/

Who are you most attached to? My mom.

What do you depend on other people for? I’m very dependent on my parents and brother. Especially my mom. They provide for me, take care of me, and do a lot for me.

Are you good at reading other people’s body language? I think so.

Do you like facial hair? How about chest hair? I don’t mind a little facial hair. I’d be okay with a little bit of chest hair, but not a lot. Definitely no Nev from Catfish level chest hair haha.

If you have a favorite number, how did you choose it? I’ve liked the number 8 since I was a kid. I believe it stems from The Schoolhouse Rock. I loved the song they made for the number 8. I watched that part all the time. I also had a computer game with that on there.

What goes through your mind when someone breaks up with you? A lot of things. Hurt, sadness, confusion, anger... I replay everything in my head. Think about what happened. Get mad at them, but also blame myself.

What goes through your mind when someone asks you out? Depends on who did the asking. When it was someone I was interested in, I got all nervous and giddy. The butterfly feeling in my stomach and all that.

Do you match your shoes with your outfit? I always wear my black Adidas regardless.

Do you style your hair daily? No.

Who was the last person to compliment your appearance? What’d they say? My doctor complimented my hair when I saw her last week. Is there any movie you just can’t stand to watch? Yeah.

What do you think of pornography? Not my thing.

What hair products do you use regularly? Shampoo, dry shampoo, detangler. 

Does it bother you when people use extremely bad grammar? It depends. Do you have a hard time talking about sex with the opposite gender? Yes.

Do you feel more comfortable with a male or female doctor/nurse? Female.

Have you ever had major surgery? Yes, a few.

Could you go a month without speaking? Nooo.

Is there any food you don’t like that a lot of others do? Seafood. It seems like everyone loves sushi and I’m like GAG.

Have you ever followed a trend? If so, what was it? Well, yeah. More so when I was a teenager, but a few others since then.

Have you ever started a trend, even a small one? I’m no trendsetter.

What was the last thing you bragged about? I have nothing to brag about. Not a cute a look anyway.

[frankencocksupremacy]

You don’t have to answer this if it’s too personal I was just wondering how did you deal with the negativity/stress around phalloplasty? I’m having it soon and it’s a serious downer hearing both the negative talk from non-op guys and stories from people have regretted surgery (even if that’s rare). I’d appreciate any advice if it’s not too much to ask

i don't mind answering this at all, no worries. this sort of thing has actually been on my mind for a long time and this gives me an excuse to talk about it lol. please note that just because something made me feel better that doesn't mean it'll work for you. we're all individuals and i'm no therapist. also note that i'm still in recovery and my main way of coping with anything heavy is cracking jokes (INCELS STILL WISH THEY WERE ME) so try to take particularly specific things i say with a grain of salt and feel free to toss out whatever advice seems unhelpful. if none of this works for you, i apologize, but maybe someone will find it beneficial.

ANYWAY here's whats been helping me get through my days (i tried to condense it but it ended up being a novel anyway oops):

⦁ post-op depression is real and it happens to lots of people. it can be coped with. keep yourself as mentally well as you can post-op. seek the support of people who care. immerse yourself in things you enjoy (just be careful if those things are drugs or sex. ask your doc about what your limits are while you're healing). develop a strong sense of humor. and be patient with yourself if you get frustrated or insecure. post-op depression doesn't last forever, and contrary to what some people believe, it also doesn't mean you've made a mistake. it's completely normal to feel shitty when you're in pain and exhausted for a long time

⦁ don't share more then you're willing to, no matter what. you don't owe nobody nuthin. transition is personal and nobody is entitled to the details, esp if they just want to know how to better shit talk you. be polite towards the well meaning, but set your boundaries and don't let people bully you past them. there are some trans people who think we must share all of our experiences, that we must make ourselves vulnerable for each others' sakes, but i promise you nobody will die if you choose to keep things private

⦁ understand when people are speaking in bad faith. non-ops who find bottom surgery "faulty" or are jealous of it don't care about the actual results, they just want you to feel bad for either living differently then them or for having what they don't. spiteful detrans people don't care about the thousands of happy post-op people who live and die as their transitioned gender, they're bitter about their own difficult experience. trans people who regret bottom surgery have their reasons to and that should be respected, but those reasons are entirely theirs (read: not a reflection on you or a guarantee that you'll feel the same way). Their_Experience_Is_Not_Universal.jpeg. none of these people having different lives or opinions needs to mold your reality

⦁ in addition to that, realize when people are speaking from a place of bias. of course someone who hasn't/can't have this surgery may talk shit, that's what sour grapes and internalized transphobia do to you. of course shittier people who've detran'd think nobody can be happy with the outcome of surgery, they're focused entirely on their own pain. of course people with surgical regret may try to disuade others from surgery, it wasn't what they wanted/needed/expected and they typically think they're doing you a favor. don't buckle to other people's perceptions of this operation without asking yourself what's motivating their mindset and what they'd get out of you believing it. everyone has intentions and they're not always good

⦁ don't argue with people who have made up their minds that they dislike your body, your decisions, or you as a person. you will not win, and you won't change their mind no matter how you respond to them. they'll just drain your energy and convince themselves that your reaction proves they're right. if someone makes a disparaging comment in person, subtley express disapproval at their social faux pas and then ignore them. if you get nasty messages online, delete them without acknowledging them publicly at all, even if you have the sickest of burns ready. and then reward yourself for staying mellow by doing something you enjoy, esp if its with people who actually respect you and make you happy

⦁ you are not a hypothetical or a statistic, so don't cling to them and psych yourself out. many men have this surgery and are thrilled with their lives after, and no percentage of people who encounter A Bad Thing That Happens Sometimes has ever changed that. live with what's happening right now in mind, not what could happen or has happened to others. this isn't to say you shouldn't be aware of or prepared for things like complications or difficult feelings, of course, just don't borrow trouble

⦁ in case it ever comes up: anyone who says your penis "isn't real" or "isn't functional" is wrong. your penis will be real, and chances are that if you've elected to get phallo, it will have the functions you'll need for it to be worth it to you. i can't predict your surgery outcome, and i'm only 6 weeks out as of yesterday so lord knows what's in my future, but my penis is very much a penis and it becomes more like how i want it to be every day. it's my own flesh and blood, i urinate through it, and someday i will have sex with it. cis =/= real and we'd all be better, happier people if we stopped pretending that was the case

⦁ reach out to other men who've had this surgery. feeling isolated and alone makes it easier to fall victim to the negative mindsets of (internally) transphobic people. frankly a lot of us are very happy to share because too many of us had to go through our transitions without much guidance or support, and we get that from discussing it with each other. if you need explicit permission to feel comfortable reaching out, though, my ask and IMs are always open and i love talking to other trans people about medical transition wink wink nudge nudge

⦁ don't be hard on yourself if you have transphobic or unsure thoughts. this is normal and almost impossible to avoid regardless of how things go. beating yourself up fixes nothing, least of all negative thinking. instead, if you find yourself half-believing non-ops who are insulting this surgery, question yourself. would you berate or judge another man getting phallo? are your thoughts framing cis people and their bodies as superior to trans people and theirs, and if so, why? are you dwelling on your own insecurities or dysphoria with little else backing your logic? if after surgery you start panicking because of things detrans or regretful trans people have said, keep asking. has this change actually made your life worse, or are you just anxious about it hypothetically being a regret someday? does focusing on the negative experience of others actually benefit you in any way? do you genuinely relate to the experiences these people have when they share why they're regretful? self interrogation might keep you from feeling like you're just ignoring narratives that make you uncomfortable, all while letting you constructively work through your feelings

⦁ remind yourself that no matter what anyone says or thinks, you're not changing for them. naysayers of phallo never prevented me from getting - and loving! - mine. ignorant detrans people have never made me go back to being a girl. others' surgical regret and post-op horror stories have not kept me from getting any surgeries. my life is mine, i choose what to do with it, and no matter how much hate or misinformation i've been faced with, i have persisted because my transition is for me and i know i'd regret it if i never took my chances with it. phallo wasn't for any romantic partners, or my family, or society, it was truly for Me. your transition is for You. you have one life. do what you truly believe will make it the best it can be, and no matter what happens you will be better off in some way for having tried

if you can maintain a healthy, productive way of thinking that focuses on self acceptance, you're golden. it's not easy, i know, but even the smallest effort to try makes a noticable difference. you're gonna do great. keep your chin up

(small note: i mention detrans people a lot here because they are among the people who experience surgical regret and some are loudly opposed to surgical transition because of it. i have no issue with people detransitioning. but notice how each time i bring them up i'm describing ones that are volatile and intentionally hurtful. those are the kind of detrans people i don't care for. plenty of detrans people are chill. don't listen to the ones that aren't)

[goatsandgangsters]

7, 11, 25?

7. favorite trans meme/bit of trans humor?

Instead of being like “mood” or “same,” I love the way trans people will joke like “oh man, that’s my GENDER” when something is relatable or we connect to it in some way

and joking in a way to signify like… I really relate to or connect to this thing on a deep level, and it may or may not have been formative in how I understand or express my gender, but all that is complicated to say so I’m gonna just be like “I love Newsies, it’s my gender” and a table full of trans people understand exactly what abstract thing I’m communicating

this excludes, of course, people who make similar jokes in a shitty way (“I identify as attack helicopter” etc.) where the butt of the joke is people whose gender isn’t man or woman

11. recent happy trans moment?

this was the first thing that came to mind when I FIRST got sent these asks (am slow in answering). Buuuut I USED THE MEN’S DRESSING ROOM IN A STORE! Was it stressful and did I have to psych myself up and practice saying how many items I had in my lowest voice beforehand? Yes. Did the attendant probably clock me on the way out because I got flustered about where to put stuff I didn’t want and dropped things? Also yes. But does it matter, because ultimately I used the dressing room and no one actively said anything or reacted in any way? nO IT ULTIMATELY DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE I DID THE THING

25. what’s your favorite part of being trans?

Short and sweet answer: finding a community. Going to a trans group this past year has been awesome and really validating. I’ve made a lot of good friends. And there’s something so affirming about being like “hmm I’m going to reference this thing in my experience, but idk if this is like Too Niche or if people will understand what I’m saying or maybe it’s just a me thing, who knows, this is probably really weird!” and ALMOST ALWAYS a ton of people are enthusiastically like YES EXACTLY SO RELATABLE!!!

Long and personal answer: learning to make choices and reconnect with myself and the concept of wanting things.

A quick summary of where I was when I first started therapy 2 years ago (and also was not really meaningfully out and was still using she/her pronouns and still wearing a lot of clothes that felt Bad): I didn’t make choices at all. I “structured” my free time so I did different activities on different days of the week regardless of what I wanted to do. I had a list of my teas and I drank them in a specific order, instead of drinking whichever one I wanted. And—significantly—I did this with clothes and makeup. I had a list of everything, I’d shuffle it, and I’d just wear that. Because it was all feminine clothing and I didn’t really know who I was when I put lipstick on, but I HAD IT ALREADY, so I HAD TO WEAR IT, right? And rather than make an active choice and say “hey this doesn’t feel good, let’s try something else,” I shut that part of me down entirely, stopped even asking what I wanted, and found a way to automate the process so the concept of  “me” was removed from it entirely. It was not actually a useful habit, mentally or emotionally. 

Now, gender is not the ONLY reason for why I was doing this. There’s a whole host of factors that were contributing: a natural disposition towards routine and systematizing, Anxiety, past harmful relationships. It’s a chicken or egg. Did living my life as the wrong gender CAUSE me to detach from the concept of want? Or did detaching from the concept of want make it harder to validate my gender feelings? Conversely, did working on my anxiety give me the SPACE to finally start asking “what DO I actually want?” Or did finally answering that question honestly do wonders for my anxiety? And the honest answer is: Yes. All of the above. All at once. It’s all the cause and it’s all the effect, all mixed up together in one big heap that I’ve been sifting through in my therapist’s office week after week.

But I think, at its core, exploring gender IS about taking all those things—who you are, how society constructs gender, all those many cues we give and don’t give, the things we control and the things we don’t, each little piece of the great puzzle known as gender and bodies and expression—and dumping them on the floor in a huge pile. And then you Marie Kondo the SHIT out of it. Keep the pieces that spark joy and pursue that. Identify the parts that hurt and see what you can do to change them and bring things into alignment with who you really are.

And I’m glad I had the opportunity to dump everything on the floor like that, instead of going through life feeling forever off-center and detached. I don’t think I ever would have done that process, otherwise

trans ask meme

[thereddeath2093-blog]

2020A_CW-210 personal blog post

DOOM

By Steven Bunch

                 I spend a lot of time thinking about doom. It’s a rather abstract concept to preoccupy oneself with, but still I find myself living a “doomed” life. I listen to doom metal, I watch movies and TV shows full of doomed people on doomed worlds, I fantasize about the doom of the planet and my own personal doom. It even gets so much more specific to the point of absurdity; my favorite rapper is MF DOOM, my favorite super villain is Dr. Doom, I even play DOOM the video game.

               Half of my time spent thinking about doom, is trying to understand what the word itself really means. What is doom? What does it mean to be doomed? This as you can imagine inspires all sorts of philosophical questions about life and death, fate and inevitability, as well as many others. For all my pondering, I can’t really come up with a solid answer or something definitive. Sure, I could go with a typical dictionary definition of the idea, but it is more than that to me. It encompasses too much to be summarized and completed in a single or simple string of sentences. It’s an aesthetic, an ideology, and a state of being to me, something transcendental unto itself.

               The aesthetics of Doom are easily recognized but much like the idea itself, abstract and difficult to definitively explain. There are rather obvious tropes and visual elements that appear in art and media that are representative of what I’m talking about; ruined buildings, smoke filled skies, destroyed cities, dead bodies, anything apocalyptic really. However, the idea is much deeper than that. A piece of art, or anything visual, that can inspire feelings of dread, despair, or hopelessness exemplify this aesthetic in its purest forms. This has a place in the greater sense of the word and the idea of Doom itself.

               The ideology of Doom, unlike a lot of ideologies, is not one that is readily “chosen” in the same way one might choose to be a democrat or one would take up the cause of conservation. This is a kind of mentality that people usually fall into, and more so often than they might realize. Unlike the aforementioned aesthetics, the ideology is easily explained and familiar to most people. While chiefly the mentality is signified by feelings of doom or feeling doomed, it is a little more complicated than that. A true ideology of doom comes when this mentality is reflected out into the world as a whole rather than the individual. More than a simple feeling of personal helplessness, an ideology of doom encompasses the whole of humanity, to see the entire human race as doomed. As you can imagine, this is not a particularly hot-take, especially these days. That being said, embracing this fact would be the key difference between someone who is merely cynical and someone who is waiting with baited breathe for the apocalypse. Which is essentially what I’m talking about.

               People would scarcely admit to themselves, and even more so to each other, that they want the world to end. But the fact of the matter is that most people on some level do. Being a “doomer” has even become a popular internet meme. You get a sense of this feeling anytime someone has a particularly fashionable doomsday prophecy or something like this virus breaks out. People talk about “what if this gets worse?” and “what if this is the ‘big one’?” and they do so in very practical sensible ways, but it’s not hard to see something under the practical nervous façade everyone displays. There’s a part of it that is exciting to everyone. There’s a little voice in every one’s head that says “well fuck, if the world ends, I don’t have to go to work on Monday”.

Now that might seem rather funny like a Sunday newspaper comic, but there’s something deep in the psychology of that mindset. People don’t want to have to go to work, but more than that, they don’t want to be expected to participate in the societal machine that makes people go to work and earn money. Part of being an adult is accepting and fulfilling obligations that are somewhat thrust upon you from outside regardless of how one feels about those particular obligations. People are to a degree forced to participate in a society that they don’t agree with, or at the very least, do not like their position in. An apocalypse frees the shit scrubber and the burger flipper to eat his boss and give a finger to the man free of any guilt of any financial or typical consequence. All of us have someone higher on us on the ladder we wouldn’t mind making a meal out of.

Naturally this all extends outside of working relationships and obligations, but to the far reaches of civilization as a whole. Every person from pauper to prince is well aware, that the “system” in place is not only incredibly flawed and corrupt, but also antithetical to the very human soul itself. Obvious injustices such as bigotry, war, poverty; as well as little things like traffic, wasted time, rudeness, all support the notion that something is wrong .“The system” as your local pothead would call it, isn’t designed to crush people into machines and thoughtless consuming automatons, but one can’t be faulted for believing it so, considering how often said system produces such hollow beings. One of the mindset of “Doom” recognizes that the easiest way for these things to change, if they can be changed, is to wipe the slate clean entirely.

                This is the point where most people will close this page because I’m starting to sound like a cultist of some kind. But, those people aren’t remiss to do so. This is the kind of mentality that leads people into cults. Nearly every cult is a “doomsday” cult of some kind. Even Christianity for all its pomp and circumstance, is hardly ever different. Some of the most colorful and interesting passages of the Bible come from the book of Revelations and the prophecy for the end of the world. That’s how natural this all is, how prevalent it is in the human psyche. We have always been waiting for the end of the world, because unlike most animals, we are very poignantly aware of our own mortality, and this awareness manifest itself in strange ways. The strangest of all being embracement.

               This leads to my final point about Doom itself as a state of being, the embracement of death. Now again, I’m not trying to get all death-cult on you, but there is something to be said for not only accepting one’s own mortality, but embracing it. The fact of the matter is, life sucks, and not just these days or in a particular circumstance. Life, on the whole, is a tragedy. We are born into fragile bodies against our will, bodies that will very slowly decay with us trapped inside them. We are born into families we do not choose, with people who do not know but are entrusted with our entire existence, and then as an adult expected to serve someone else entirely. We are expected to work and struggle and to get sick and to suffer until we are physically incapable anymore. And if you whine about it, there will always be someone to chime in and remind you that your particular suffering isn’t even close to the breadth of suffering humans can experience because “someone always has it worse”. This is a world where a good death is considered “getting old”, which is essentially just fermenting and rotting longer than anybody else.  

               To be “Doomed” in this sense is a recognition and rejection of fighting these things. If we are all going to die, then there can be no “good death”. All death is natural, all the world is transient, a passing image. Nothing, least of all people, last forever. You spend a lot more time dead than alive in the grand scheme of things, and in that, being dead is more of the default state. That’s not to say that this is a suicidal feeling at all. This isn’t some philosophy of suicide in so much as it is a philosophy of embracing the inevitable end of all things. Someone in the “doomed” state of being isn’t going to go out and seek the end of their own life, but they aren’t the kind of person to shy away from it either. They allow themselves to fall away and let go of life’s worries much more readily. There is a reason that coming to terms with one’s own mortality is a huge part of Zen and eastern spiritual learning.

Why would you shy away from death and doom if the world is a bag of ass and you’re going to die anyway?

               After many hours wasted thinking, I have come to the conclusion that this is where I draw my artistic inspiration from. All of my world view is painted with a funeral veil. I find myself obsessed with the aesthetics of doom because I constantly live in that state of being. I can’t help but feel a compulsion to drive this aesthetic as far as I can. I feel the innate urge to draw visions of monsters, destroyed cities, and the sky shredded by cosmic terror so naturally. I can’t help but express this feeling through my artwork. Something within me wants to say to people, or remind them; “hey, not only are things like suffering and death very real, but sometimes they are the only thing that is. They are inevitable and they shouldn’t not be cowered from, but embraced and mastered.”

Now, maybe I’m projecting too much. (I tried not to be too first person, oh well). Perhaps I’m just trying to explain my own morbid fascinations I can’t otherwise do so with. Maybe I’m just too edgy for my own good or it’s because I have a very strong belief in the afterlife. Though it’s not out of the realm of possibility that there’s just some people out there (myself chiefly included) who are just sort of depressing, death obsessed freaks. However, I gamble a stamp, that considering how many depressing death obsessed freaks are really out there in the world, that I’m not entirely off-base when I talk about these things being prevalent in the subconscious of the human race as a whole. I believe something deep in the human psyche craves a change, craves destruction to make way for something new. Something in each of us wants these things no matter the cost, something in each of us, craves Doom.

[ladylilithium]

Hans’ possible Redemption Arc PART 1: Deconstructing Hans' character

Hey, guys! So this is my first post analysis, meta, observation, whatever you wanna call it, so if it’s seems incomplete or lacks of depth please add your opinions as well! Also English is not my first language but argentine Spanish, papá, so don’t judge me plz. I don’t want to encounter with any anti or hater, and if you have the necessity to speak your mind anyways, do it but in a cordial way.

I’m going to divide this post in 3 parts I think, since is very long, and I have a lot to say for my favorite Jerk redhead Prince 😆

Ok, let’s start, shall we?

_________________________________________

1) Is he really a sociopath?

You know, this is something that upsets me quite a bit. The fact that you can just say “Oh well, he’s a sociopath so he’s manipulative and lacks of empathy” is something that annoys me a little, or at the very least, disappoints me. TBH, you don’t need to be a sociopath (a psychological and mental condition) to be manipulative, apathetic or cruel. I’m trying not to rationalize his actions in Frozen, because he still was wrong by harming two innocent women, but by saying that he’s a sociopath it makes his character a little more… shallow? Simpler? My point is, that a shitty toxic person can be anyone, and it simplifies the complexity that they brought on the table on the first place.

But the questions still remains, is he truly a sociopath?

Is tricky, since we know nothing except that his family is shit, and that he is a chameleon, a mirror to other people. By the end of the movie, and by the interviews that Jennifer Lee gave to us, it seems to me that he does have sociopathic traits, but he is not a sociopath per se. Hans can be a sociopath, as much as he could be not, if it’s given a proper character in-depth and backstory.

I think that by calling Hans a sociopath is an easy way to make the GA and the Frozen Fandom to disconnect with him since statistically we have normal-functioning brain, and because people with ASPD diagnose have a negative -though justified most of the time- stigma surrounding them.

2) Grey Morality: The line between good and bad, where we all fall.

“All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day.”  ― Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke.

As I said before, I like the idea of a morally questionable prince. A more grounded, realistic, game of throne-like character as Hans is. What I don’t like, is the seemingly automatic white to black view that we have for Hans,  while at the same time, we have one of our protagonist letting almost die a whole kingdom, and her sister,  to escape her duties and crippling fears –unintentionally, but still-.  An empath or normal person can commit crime or bad things given in extremes situations of distress, anger, etc. And we see that with our own eyes in Elsa. She almost gets tempted to kill two men, you can see the fury in her eyes, in her face. 

It is self defense, yes. But regardless of that, her people knew nothing about her powers and they just knew that she cursed them and ran away. No matter how morally wrong Hans was by trying to kill Elsa, or letting Anna die, he also helped her. He helped them both.

If she indeed killed those men here, I don’t think anyone whould’ve ever trusted her. Not even her own men, whom remember, they witnessed her actions and they were attacked too. 

A normal person lies. A normal person manipulates. Heck, we even can choose to not feel empathy if it is inconvenient for ourselves.  How many times did you pretend to feel empathy for someone just to make them feel comfortable? How many times did you see a homeless person asking for a money and you just walked away?

Again, I’m not trying to normalize these negative traits, but to be sincere about it. And is something that makes us very complex as human beings, we are true neutrals, and we can be good or bad, depending of the actions taken at certain moments, and how it impacts to others.

Yes, some people are irredeemable monsters, but I don’t think that’s Hans’ case. And so he does have redeemable qualities as well, even if it might be for personal gain, or perhaps some of his actions were genuine, we don’t know for sure. 

When did we not see an ambiguous morality in Frozen? Or when did we not see ambiguous morality in some Disney characters, in general? Is hard to find, but we do certainly have our morally wrong characters redeemed. Here are a few: 

- Abused both physically and psychologically Cinderella. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-Imprisoned Belle. -Verbally violent towards his subjects and Belle. -Almost harms physically Belle. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-Killed a bear out of vengeance. -Let motherless a bear cub, that after he would befriend. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-Almost kill a bear out of vengeance too. On top of that, was his own brother (though he didn’t know). CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-Tried to kill Simba and take his pride. -(invoked) Forced mating with Kiara. -Almost attacks Simba. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-Tried to kill Simba. -Attacked the lionesses of his pride. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-He was an asshole to everyone. -He ordered a guard to throw an old man through a window (still lol). -He tried to let homeless a whole village for his selfish desires. -He betrayed Pacha’s trust. -He let Pacha on his own fate (probably to die). CURRENT STATE: Redeemed. 

-Along with Syndrome, she plotted the death of many superheros, including Mr. Incredible. -Almost kill Mr. Incredible. -She almost kill a whole family, including the children.  CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.

-He tried to kill Elsa, and let Anna die alone for personal gain. -Deceived Anna, Elsa and everyone else. -Plotted the death of Elsa at some point in the movie (unclear when exactly). -Degraded verbaly Anna. -He tried to break Elsa’s heart to make her give up her life. Redeemable Qualities: -He took care of Arendelle while Elsa and Anna were gone (though, it still can be interpreted as gaining popularity). -He went off to look out for Anna. -He ordered the Arendelle guards and the Merchant’s not to harm Elsa. -He calmed Elsa’s rage, avoiding her to kill. -He tried to reason with her.

Elsa is shown that suffers of guilt and insecurities, yet throughout the majority of the movie, she still rejects Anna and her responsibilities as Queen. Even to a point where she witnesses hurting Anna with her magic,

 yet she just casts her away from her Ice Castle. Or after the misery that she caused -and she’s visibly hurt by that- she’s still thinking of running away, instead of trying to change things. Hans pleaded her to stop the winter and bring back summer, but she said that she couldn’t.

My goal here is not victim-blaming. I’m not blaming Elsa for her insecurities or self-defense actions. But her character at the end of the film, has a lazy realization, and for me, an unsatisfactory conclusion in terms of story-telling, because we never she her develop for herself, or working hard to balance her bad actions throughout the end of the movie, but anyway.

I’m not trying to rationalize morally questionable/wrong actions either. A good action doesn’t cancel the bad one, but my main interest is to analyze the human psyche, character growth and development.

3) Love and Fear: a constant subject in Frozen, and a constant subject for a “Prince”.

So cut through the heart, cold and clear Strike for love and strike for fear See the beauty, sharp and sheer Split the ice apart, and break the frozen heart.

—Disney’s Frozen “Heart”

DID HANS ACT ONLY OUT OF COLD AMBITION, OR HE WAS ALSO AFRAID?

For what we know from A Frozen Heart, interviews and extra information, is that Hans is abused so much by his brothers, that he just accepted their behavior and doesn’t fight back, is something normal for him. Nor he tries to improve his relationship with them. His relationship with his father is also painfully cold and toxic, and their dynamics are comparable to Zuko and Ozai, Tyrion and Tywin, or Theon and Balon. Hans seems to have an inferiority-superiority complex, and so, his pride is fragile and as well (just as previous Zuko, Theon and Tyrion).

But how? He’s very charming, and his body language never shows signals of insecurity (though that’s debatable). Or when he confesses his true intentions to Anna he has a sexy smug smile in his face, and his voice is soft and low, cruel and never trembling. How is that I believe that he was afraid or scared? Well, the movie itself states that he does have a terrible relationship with his brothers, the novelizations extends this to his father. 

So by knowing this, a person copes with the pain and abuse in different ways: Elsa’s fear is hurting her loved ones, so she forced herself to an emotional -and literal- isolation towards them, specially with Anna. In Hans’ case, his fears are being trapped forever in his “home”, and being rejected by his father. So his way to acclimatizing himself in such negative environment, is to avoid his true feelings and morality. Avoiding his true identity, in essence. Thus, becoming into the Mirror Hans (more on that later), allowing him to become the very thing that he actively tried to avoid for years.

I think that here’s the point where he started to panic; where the fear of going back to his depressive life, and the taste of power that Anna gave him when she left him in charge, took him over completely, forcing himself to toss apart any bit of  true morality and compassion that he had for Anna and Elsa. Where his mind started to realize that executing Elsa was the only way to bring things back to normal. 

But is also the fact that Anna dissapeared, and Elsa was the only rightful heir to Arendelle, so his conflict was “What do I do? What’s next?” If Hans decided at the moment to execute her, and Anna was dissapeared, he wouldn’t get to be King of Arendelle, and he would back to his hell home. His conflict is both emotional and materialistic, and fear started to get under his skin too. Some might argue that he’s just reflecting Elsa’s emotions, which is valid, but keep in mind his goals, his backstory; try to read him beyond what the movie told you. Link the dots to picture his mind. 

Some other might point out this scene.

[SIDENOTE: To me, it seems like another atempt to make us dislike him more. In my eyes, is like that the creators tried to manipulate us to hate him, but anyway don’t mind my defensiveness towards him LOL. He’s a terrible person Angie! Stop it, goddamit!]

It interpreted this part as Hans joy of finally seeing the chance of escaping his prisonic home, dehumanizing Elsa completly. WHICH IS BAD regardless. Is he a sadist? The book implies that he takes pleasure in feeling physical pain, but he does not take pleasure on harming others. 

So to me, is a smile of almost getting to win a big bad in a videogame, or well... that’s the type of face when I’m about to eat a pizza so, IDK :v 🤷‍♀️

THE MACHIAVELLIAN KING VS THE MACHIAVELLIAN PRINCE: The Lion and the Fox.

One of the reasons that Hans didn’t fit his family -besides being the smaller and weaker member of them-, is that his morale and philosophy clashed with the imposing, hard power that his father values. Being flexible and benevolent to the common people is a sign of weakness for Hans’ father and brothers. The king sees himself and his other sons as strong and powerful as lions, and he compares Hans to a mouse because he doesn’t fight back, nor shares his value of hard power. The King’s philosophy is kinda like Darwinism with Machiavellian shades. So in one side, we have the cruel side of the Machiavellian philosophy, the one that values fear over love:

“From this arises the question whether it is better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved. It might perhaps be answered that we should wish to be both: but since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved.”

“One can say this in general of men: they are ungrateful, disloyal, insincere and deceitful, timid of danger and avid of profit...Love is a bond of obligation that these miserable creatures break whenever it suits them to do so; but fear holds them fast by a dread of punishment that never passes.”

But in Hans’ side, he believes (or puts in practice, at least) that appearances and benevolent acts are better way to influence people, to gain more popularity. This is the softer side of power, the more deceitful and diplomatic Machiavellian route:

“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”

“Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception.”

“Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities I have enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them. And I shall dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful; to appear merciful, faithful, humane, religious, upright, and to be so, but with a mind so framed that should you require not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite.”

So we see the two opposing sides of the Machiavellian philosophy, one relies on hard power, and the other in subtle power. In essence, Hans’ father rejects the soft power because of his imposing pride and ego. But both characters share the same Machiavellian influence in their beliefs, the only difference is that Hans takes no joy in being cruel and tyrannical, thus preferring the softer, more subtle side of power. 

Yet at the end of the day, he embraces the cruelty, and fails to become the hero he expected to become, and by the time he realizes his mistakes and regains his morality, is too late.

What I’d like to see in Hans’ Redemption Arc, is a discussion between the characters (mainly Hans and Elsa) about this matter. An intellectual battle, and him realizing that his father was wrong. Not so in-your-face, because I can see people getting bored over political philosophy, but in a metaphorical way. And Hans coming in terms that deceitfulness and fear, aren’t the only way to gain trust, but love and true friendship as well. 

He can be a fox, and a lion too.

“The lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves.”

― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

Part 2 Here

[lifeofgroffsauce]

Subject: Life Update (AKA Jon Spills His Soul)

June 25th, 2018. *Email contains TWs*

Today was the Mondayest of all Mondays. I got sunburned yesterday at Pride (super fun by the way, always recommend. Pride, not the scorched skin.) Really wasn't planning on going anywhere today. Our flight got in at 2 this morning, which was pretty rough. Probably should’ve planned that spontaneous trip to Cali better, but then it wouldn’t have been spontaneous now would it. Uh, I slept in until 8, if you could, on any level, call that sleeping in. Something I overheard yesterday kind of stuck with me in a negative way. I ran into (okay, more like eavesdropped onto) a group of gay men conversing about bisexual men. They were super insistent that there’s no satisfying a bisexual man because they always crave women. I know you know where this is going so yeah, bare with me. It’s so stupid; it even sounds just idiotic, because how can you shame an entire sexuality for the wrongs of a few people. I know it’s not logical. I know, I know, I know. It triggered this... I’m not even sure what to call it. Insecurity maybe? Naturally, the smallest of shit just exacerbated it. I got into a disagreement with my boyfriend over lube. Aloe as lube (which has a consistency akin to vaginal fluids (I’m sorry, even more sorry for brackets in brackets) so that just, BAD ). Specifically, him using it when he topped (dominated, if you’re not familiar) me. He didn’t want to and it fucking spiraled into this even bigger thing where my brain did that awesome cute thing of not shutting the fuck up. I didn’t even want him to touch me. How is that possible? How does it make sense? It’s so frustrating because I know it doesn’t. He started getting moody (I think) and for some reason that made me want to fuck him but- let’s put it this way: I’m finally seeing those side effects of Lexapro. As if I don’t already feel comfortable with my body, the one aspect I’ve never complained about doesn’t work. To top all of it off, I received an email from my agent that says filming for one of my projects has been moved up to August. The producers were talking about pushing this out until November, now it’s August? That’s less than six weeks away. I’m so fucking worried. I’m unfathomably worried that this is too soon to leave my boyfriend. I already know I’m going to miss so much: he’s having another baby in a few months (I can already imagine the new-baby-bonding with his not-even-ex wife he’s going to do), his third to accompany his two other small sons, one of which is still basically a newborn too. I’m going to miss out on these big stepping stones (there’s a better phrase out there, I’m adamant about it but don’t care enough to seek it; jk we both know I’ll get to the end of this and be anxious and not send this email if I don’t find it). WAIT, milestones! That’s the word. Including my commentary because I know how much you enjoy my psyche’s crisis. Um, yeah. I’m going to miss everything; I’ll be continents away in an entirely different time zone, filming a depressing fucking tv show, all alone; with the exception of my ex-boyfriend (who has been weirdly appropriate with me. Are you tired of all my notes in brackets yet?) Everything in my head is screaming it’s a bad idea: leaving. I can’t stay though; like, I can’t back out of this project. Papers have already been signed, the cast is locked in, and I’ve already removed myself from two other projects. It won’t look good on my theatre sheet/‘filmography’ to have that little *incomplete* red mark. To add (lol didn’t I already say thing or something? Fuck it, let’s keep rolling): Jesus Christ, my niece Camden has been so salty lately. She’s feeling so left out since I moved, but it’s not like I’m ten minutes away anymore and I can just easily pick her up. That little girl is my heart and soul; I’d never intentionally hurt her yet, here she is. Declining to spend the night or even hang out because she doesn’t get “all of me”. You have a daughter; what would you do with that one? Right, can’t make it personal. Sorry. Which, I think it super ironic when you think about how your patients (clients?) spill their motherfucking guts out on the ugly commercial carpet of your office (sorry if you chose it, so sorry!) and you’re not supposed to share much in return. My pop texted me to see if I was still coming to my parents’ wedding anniversary party, with my boyfriend. This will be the first time he’s meeting my dad, and the first time any significant other of mine will be meeting the rest of my PA family/friends. I don’t worry about Lin at all- he’s fucking amazing with people, and so, so charming. Jesus, does he have a way with words. Before this turns into a weird, unfulfilling love letter to him, let’s refocus. I don’t want to think about the way my father is going to look at me, at us, as a couple, together. Me, with another man. I’m still reeling over the last glance that seemed to scream, “ew, my son’s gay.” You know how people say things like, “Your parents love you unconditionally; they would never change a thing about you”? That’s definitely not true in my case, and I can feel it every time we’re alone. When we’re joking or talking, it’s cool, but then... then, there’s a silence that sets my teeth on edge and he acknowledges we’re not the same. Not that we were ever supposed to be but, I don’t even think I’m explaining this right, now. When I was a teenager (I know I’ve told you about this), a story came out on the local news about two homosexual men being wrongly jailed for a crime they didn’t commit. While awaiting trial, they were raped and beaten by a gaggle of bigger prison guys. Apparently it was so brutal they required stitching, to which the inmates tore out and repeated the first occurrence. Awesome, right. It’s forever burned in my mind what he said, because I know he wasn’t meaning to be cruel or callous but the words just came out. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone but if anyone would like it, God knows it would be those sissies. That’s what they all want anyway.” Followed by, “Sodomy is sodomy; they shouldn’t complain.” Every time I’m at my parents house, my brother Dave is amazing at swooping in to provide this phenomenal (majorly liberal) support system. He really pushes to educate my parents and not leave an older generation in the dark. I have to admit, he’s worked wonders with them, on so many different topics. That one though. I just think he looks at me and wishes so badly I was hetero. He’d sell his soul just to watch me marry Lea, I’m sure. Wow, my “just” count is insane but, no editing. Rolling with it; thoughts as they come. TLDR; I just feel like I’m disappointing everyone, or if I haven’t already, I’m going to. I fucking shouldn’t, I know that I’m thirty-three and still waiting for my parents approval is so goddamn old. It doesn’t mean anything though. Regardless, I’m waiting for the ball to drop, and I’m not sure the meds are helping. I haven’t been hyperventilating or had an actual attack but I still feel the anxiety. It feels like a harsh hand around my throat that makes it hard to breathe but I always somehow manage to catch my breath; that must be the drugs. I’m shocked I haven’t once mentioned how huge and disproportionate my thighs looked in every pair of baggy sweatpants and basketball shorts I tried on today. There’s one. It’s so exhausting to even try to talk about, or convey through here. You know the drill: thought about it for hours, picked at my food, maaaay have googled ‘things to eat for slim thighs’. Definitely did. At this point in life... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Between typing out sentences of this email, I stopped to try to get hard (you’re getting the explicit, uncut version, sorry; also hi, wishful thinking) but all porn does is annoy me. I feel so wound up, anxious, and almost angry. Low-key (this is new generation talk for like, “kinda”, I think) want to just... cry. In conclusion: Jonathan feels all the things and I haven’t even told you half of it... believe it or not. I have a headache and this couch is hurting my neck. This is all you’re getting. Relief, right? You’re like, “Thank fucking god, Jon, you already sent me a Harry Potter novel. Let me respond then you may continue rattling on about your not-even-bad life you’re complaining about.” It really ISN’T bad, for the record. It’s not, at all. I’m just in my feelings and at the peak of frustration. Okay, done ranting. I think I feel better? I might not even send this. Let’s play russian roulette with the enter key. If you get this, thumbs up. If you don’t... I guess I won’t expect a reply. Thank you, always, for dealing with me. I’m sorry these thoughts couldn’t wait... three days. Face palm.

[Sent]

[faeflowerfeline]

clock on the wall (i will keep your hand from turning)

Prequel: https://faeflowerfeline.tumblr.com/post/170412324948/humanity

Dave may have been unable to save them from Time, but you can, and you will.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500380

I call thee, beloved one to love me more than anyone seven times I pierce my heart and now you feel the magic start

bind thy heart and soul to me as I do will so let it be, oh

- Sticks and Stones, The Pierces

When you look down, your hands are shaking. It’s like a dream - seeing two versions of yourself at once, one forever trapped at 13 and the you that you’ve always been. But you’ve always been the other you, too, haven’t you?

Two sets of memories superimposed over each other. You almost can’t tell where one life ends and the other begins. You’re yourself and someone else at the same time, but that someone else is you too and you’re struggling to separate the two - struggling with the decisions you’d make normally and the decisions she’d make. The fact that said decisions are really quite similar is not helping matters.

And the memories… oh, the memories aren’t helping either. There’s Jade, and you reach out to her as she sends a bullet through her head, and when you touch her arm it is warm and she turns.

“Rose?” she says, voice light and questioning, as if you just wanted to ask her something. As if you didn’t just watch her die.

Dave and Karkat stand together, not far away, and you look at them and see tragedy and age and death and the inescapable embrace of time. You look at Kanaya and you see motherhood and sorrow and depression - a woman who outlived all of her children and hates herself for it. There’s Dirk and Jake and Terezi and Vriska and Jane and Roxy and Callie. There’s John and Dad, and their passing didn’t make the news as much as anyone else’s - John’s depression making him reclusive and not often seen, whereas Dad was never one of the gods to begin with - at least, not according to the public. They’re all dead - horrible deaths, typical deaths; old age, murder, suicide - and yet, somehow, they’re right here in front of you.

Laughing. Living.

And you can’t let them die, not again. Not like that.

Karkat will be the first one to go, and you see his degeneration even as no one else notices. So you flip through your books, through the spells and rituals summoning dark gods, and you know this will change you, but for Dave? For Dave, you would do anything.

When the gods come, you give yourself over willingly. They tell you they will allow you to save your friends, and you do. You give Karkat just a fraction of power, a brilliant thing, black and writhing with energy. It slithers down his throat and settles in his bloodstream, pulling at his body until it refuses to give out. Karkat is still Karkat, of course, you asked and you made them prove it - with a being from your new universe that you had studied its whole life. So, it was a bit weird after that - a bit too happy, a bit off, but overall, it was still the same being it had been at the start.

So when Dave comes to you and tells you that Karkat isn’t right, that he’s not quite Karkat anymore, you laugh him off. When he looks at you strangely, you don’t notice until it’s too late. You don’t notice until everyone is - well, everyone except Karkat, of course, because he knows everything.

But you ignore it, because you’re doing the right thing; protecting everyone. They would thank you if they knew the truth, and you comfort yourself with that knowledge.

Dad Crocker comes next. He is getting older, not near death yet, but you want to be sure he won’t die. He doesn’t change into anything weird either, just keeps being Dad. John starts coming out more, and he’s giving you those same weird looks as everyone else. He’s talking to Dave more, though, so you count that as a win too.

Terezi you almost don’t manage to save - you fly into the black hole after her, pulling her out with all the power the dark gods left at your disposal, and she looks at you with such betrayal.

“What have you done?” she asks, horrified, and you give her part of your power too, because if you don’t she will be one of the next to go. Old age won’t take those you care for - not on your watch. Dave may have been unable to save them from Time, but you can, and you will.

Honestly, when the time finally comes to save The Mayor, you’re not sure it’ll take. After all, no one really seems to know anything about the genetic or psychological makeup of carapacians, and without that information, you can never be entirely sure what will happen. For all you know, what you’re about to do could kill him. When it takes, and he looks up at you in that way that indicates he’s smiling, it's more of a relief than you’d care to admit. You’ve saved almost everyone - perhaps this time things won’t go as badly.

That is, of course, when it all goes to shit. Terezi told Dave, and you’re not sure why - she does know you’ve saved them all, after all; stopped death and madness and degeneration and suicide. You’ve protected everyone from Time, and the worst life and the human (and troll) psyche has to offer. But they come regardless, they come to kill you and you have done nothing but help.

Without you sustaining the magic, Terezi and Karkat and The Mayor and Dad Crocker will die, don’t they realise that? And when they die, so will everyone else because you’ve seen what happens - seen how immortality effects them when they realise that those they love will never be able to stand by their side. When they realise that they will outlive everyone they know.

You protected them, saved them, and this is how they repay you? With war and magic and bloodshed and murder?

“You did the wrong thing, Rose,” Dirk tells you, when he finally comes for you.

“I did what was needed!” You snarl, and slam your magic into him - he will see what you mean, you know he will. He will stand with you, help you show everyone that they’re being unreasonable, you’re helping.

But he sees - you know he does, his eyes go glassy and then harden behind his shades and he looks like he’s about to cry - and he doesn’t stop. His sword still slams against your needles and he says;

“This wasn’t how to help!”

“It was the only way to help,” you reply, and know you are lying - you could have done it many other ways, but most involved murder and you are selfish; too selfish for a saviour. You did not want to watch your friends and family die around you once more.

“You know that’s not true,” Dirk practically begs, even as he keeps fighting, “undo your magic.”

“They will die,” you laugh and it comes across desperate and insane, which you are, you suppose, “you are asking me to kill those I saved.”

“I am asking you to set them free.”

You refuse, one last time. Dave runs you through from behind.

As you choke on your blood - ichor, really, because ichor is the blood of the gods and you are a god, borrowing power from other gods, and it makes sense that your blood is more of an oily black substance than the pure red you’re used to - Kanaya holds you, but her face shows her disappointment.

“I believed you were better than this,” she whispers into your hair. Her hands stroke down your sides, like she’s trying to comfort you. You can’t laugh very well - it comes across more like choking because there is liquid in your lungs and you are drowning - but you laugh nonetheless, coughing up some of the blood slowly drowning you.

“I saved you,” you tell her, rasping and choking, gasping for air.

You find none

there is no air

please please please please you cant breathe

“Shhhh, darling, it’s okay. Shhhh. Just breathe for me, okay? It’ll all be over soon.”

There is nothing.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500380

[dailydaveeddiggs]

An evening with Daveed Diggs at Dinkelspiel

“I call myself a nerd all the time,” said “Hamilton” superstar Daveed Diggs to Nerd Nation at Dinkenspiel Auditorium.

[...] McGhee and Diggs kicked off the night with a picaresque rambling tour through Diggs’ early days. Playing up his Oakland heritage (“Everybody from the Bay has a superiority complex, because we’re dope”), Diggs took the room through a series of amazing twists-and-turns: his “crazy birth story” (he was born in two hospitals), his experience playing Charles Darwin at a production in Dink years ago (it wasn’t very good), his mother’s stint as a DJ in the ’70s and early ’80s, and her dropping out of college to go hitchhiking with a German Shepherd named Beowulf. (“That’s some Berkeley-ass shit.”) Throughout, his elegant storytelling skills kept the audience hanging on his every bon mot.

Where Diggs really struck home were his descriptions of culture shock at Brown University, his alma mater. “[There,] the standards for ‘Normal’ seem so restricted,” he said. When he visited Brown on an athlete recruiting trip, he noticed how every single black person greeted him with, “What’s up,” or “a complicated handshake.”

Diggs mused, “It wasn’t until I’d been there for several years when I realized: That’s what you do when you’re an endangered species,” to gasps, claps and snaps. For people of color coming from predominantly multiracial environments as Diggs did, to be transported to a liberal college campus comes at the risk of being shook at how much your color really pops out — in ways you didn’t think were relevant to you.

(This week, he plans to go to Brown to receive an honorary doctorate: “I asked if they would give it to me in engineering, and they said no.”)

Transitioning to “Hamilton,” Diggs described, in rich detail, how he came on board Miranda’s production, sparing no rod to our beloved Puerto Rican.

“I was emailed Lin’s fucking god-awful demos,” he says to great audience laughter. “Him rapping and singing every part. All those falsettos. Even still! It was so brilliant.”

What most impressed Diggs was Miranda’s ability to break the typical mediocrity of so-called hip-hop theater.

“‘Hip-hop theater’ usually means that something suffers,” he noted. “Either the hip-hop is not good, or the theater is not good. One of them is a misunderstanding. [“Hamilton”] was not that. Lin’s a really good rapper for real. He’s also a nerd about it.”

McGhee pressed Diggs on his thoughts on hip-hop entering an elite, predominantly white, mainstream space like Broadway — and what is won and lost in the move.

“That’s a tricky question, and something I’ve been struggling with a lot,” he said. “Hip-hop was indifferent to Broadway. We didn’t need Broadway, but I think Broadway needed hip-hop. It needed something contemporary. You know, Broadway in the ’30s and ’40s was using jazz music — genres on the cutting edge of popular music, on the same exposure level as Tin Pan Alley. So I think having the vocabulary of hip-hop [in Broadway] is like another tool in the toolbox for artists to use. It’s useful for the art form.”

When asked by McGhee on playing Thomas Jefferson, a slave owner, as a black man, Diggs was swift: “It was a trip.” But his answer proves that Diggs exudes the Black confidence, swagger and brilliance of the historically white men he plays in the show.

“I approached it the way I’d approach any character, which is trying to find real-life analogues in my own life. You discover he’s an incredible writer; it made sense to me, then, to make him a confident rapper. He was an incredibly curious person, inventing things all the time.

“He was also just insanely privileged — to a degree which I had never experienced, and don’t have any real-life analogues to it. I read once that his first memory was of being carried in a bassinet by one of his slaves. That was key to me. Being aware of the way that someone like that walks through the world. Creating a character who was as privileged as I could possibly imagine.”

Diggs went on to describe a key moment in Jefferson’s first appearance (“What’d I Miss?”), and how the staging worked to complicate the Jefferson of the show.

“Jefferson’s entrance is him literally being wheeled around on the stage by all his slaves. And they’re cleaning up the floor, scrubbing around him, stand in a straight line. No one talks about that, but that is what’s happening on stage.”

The conversation expanded beyond “Hamilton,” touching on Diggs’ recent spots on the TV show “Black-ish.” Diggs explained that he was brought in to fill in the gap of Millennial Blackness, “a version of Blackness that they weren’t exploring.” Diggs expressed shock when he was asked to reprise the role in another episode.

“I think I’m always waiting for someone to say ‘Psych!'” he said. The wave of laughter in the audience — some nervous, some not — was a wry counterpoint to that statement’s depth, pain and sting of truth.

On his massive success, the humbled Diggs  said, “I get to say ‘no’ to a lot of things. That, for an artist, is crazy. You want to talk about privilege. I’m still getting used to it! I say ‘yes’ too way too many things. I feel nuts most of the time, running around and feeling like I’m doing too many things.

“I’m loving what I’m doing, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t believe that it will be there forever for me.”

Afterwards, the floor opened up to a question-and-answer session with the audience. He answered questions on his favorite rappers (E-40 of Vallejo and Aesop Rock) and his thoughts on “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” (“Tina Fey is a national treasure”).

In response to a question from Victor Ragsdale ’19 on advice he would give to young black kids wanting to navigate the waters of Broadway and TV, Diggs was soul-stirring.

“Bring all of your self. Don’t leave any of your self home. Nobody wants you for what you think they want. Yes, Hollywood is racist and sexist. So is Broadway. So are all of these industries of art of which we are practitioners. That’s not your fault. You can’t change yourself to fit into their mold.

“As an actor, you spend a lot of time trying to figure out what the director wants from you. That’s not what people really want. It’s the most exciting thing in the world to interpret something that someone didn’t think of. Those people always get called back. You may not get the part, but you at least get called back and put on people’s radars.”

Asked on the state of hip-hop today, Diggs was fervently optimistic.

“I love it all. Obviously the underground is where I grew up. What’s really impressive is how weird everything mainstream is. Young Thug is a star — but his stuff is out there, avant-garde, wild.”

But then Diggs left the challenge to all of us, the next generation, to push art and thought to the next level. “I’m getting too old to be asked these questions. I don’t get to dictate what culture is anymore. I now get to watch what the kids create and be a fan of it.”

He encouraged open-mindedness of other artists’ work, regardless of political leaning or disagreements with mode of attack. “As a consumer, you get to say, ‘I don’t agree with this piece of art, so it’s not good.’ As an artist, I don’t think you get to do that. I think you have to explore the reasons you like or dislike something a little bit more than whether or not you agree with it.

“Just because an artist doesn’t align with me politically, that doesn’t give me any reason not to listen to them. Or to say that they’re bad outright. And if don’t like their ‘message,’ then it’s my job to put an alternative message out there.”