#i dont know how to get rid of things without erasing them entirely | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anachronistic-falsehood · 1 year ago

Note

OK OK OK. i have to run some errands but i am also thinking abt this soo much now so im gonna type out this ask over the course of like the next hour in between things while im thinkin abt it. so i hope its not completely incomprehensible

OK ALEX KNIGHT OF VOID. i was not able to convince a friend abt him bc they are dead set on him being a prince of blood. whcih. shoutout to jonesy for that one because thats ALSO a really good classpect for him. ough. anyway anyway. the reason he is knight of void to me. hear me out this is my void player alex propaganda. void is. lack. void is nothing in the most literal sense. what does alex do. he disappears. thats what kicks off the whole fucking thing right !! alex disappears seemingly without a trace and jay goes looking for him. personally i see the operator as an embodiment of void in the homestuck sense. it takes things, it makes things disappear, it erases memories and redacts information and erases all sense of self in a person and thats how it wins. (theres an argument to be made that it could also be space coded with all the warping around and distortions and things but thats a whole other conversation its void propaganda time now) and alex becomes the one most closely associated with the operator. maybe tim was the source yeah but alex is the one who had the most direct contact with it the entire time. hes a knight because he protects nothing yeah (REALLY good interpretation btw. he thinks hes protecting something but there's nothing there.) but he was also corrupted into protecting the things the operator wanted (burning the tapes, getting rid of evidence, killing everyone associated, etc.) void 2 me is the opposite of light; where light deals in the acquisition of knowledge and understanding, void is the unknown and the unfamiliar and unclear

AND THAT BRINGS US TO. HEIR OF LIGHT JAY. FUCK. hes so heir coded. he didnt ask for this, he wasnt at all involved until alex offered to give him the tapes. he inherited the tapes from alex (who then stole them back and burnt them, void player behavior btw) . jay is soooooo. eye avatar coded also. i dont think youve listwned to tma yet but I know ive talked abt tma entities to u in passing before. ugh it makes me so insane. jay becomes obsessed with knowledge, with uncovering the mysteries, he HAS to Know whats happening. to the point where it becomes unhealthy. if i remember correctly one of the powers of an heir is to become their aspect (john when he turns into wind (?) ) and at a certain point jay . becomes light. in more ways than one if you want to be sappy about it (i do. i want to be sappy about it.) he becomes the knowledge, he becomes the information, his camera is an extention of his body, he's the sole provider of the events of mh through the youtube channel (and when tim picks it up its only because he feels like he needs to finish what jay started) . BUT ALSO. jay becomes . sort of a beacon for the whole thing. hoodie/brian are contacting *jay.* not alex, not tim. alex is hunting down jay for the tapes before tim even gets involved. dont even get me STARTED on jay and tim they make me fucking nuts. they only had each other. say what you will about the unhealthiness of their whole thing but jay was a light in the darkness for tim. he was hiding from everything, ignoring all of his problems and nothing was getting fixed, jay pulled him out of that kicking and screaming and even though they both got SO fucked up in the process ultimately tim escaped and jay was the light that led him out of the tunnel (< pun very much intended. fuck that tunnel). im kind of getting off on a tangent here sorry ive been reading a lot of fics i love them .

HEART PLAYER TIM. HOO BOY. now . hear me out. i know what you may be thinking. "mac you cannot just assign heart players to your favorite characters that is just you projecting." ITS NOT. OK. I JUST HAVE A TYPE WHEN IT COMES TO FAVORITE CHSRACTERS and that type Just So Happens to be full of fucking heart players. anyway. hear me out. tim. cares. so much. tim cares SO much for other people. the onlt reason he pushes people away is because he thinks it will protect them from him because he is so very full of guilt all the time and blames himself for infecting everyone. but he FUCKING CARES. and that i think is a huge huge huge heart player trait. maybe they are not the most pleasant people in the world maybe theyre huge raging assholes that will never admit it (cough cwilbur cough dirk) but DEEP DOWN (sometimes not actually all that deep down) heart players care about their friends so much that it hurts. however. heart players also tend to be super selfish <3 and tim is a knight. so . he protects. he protexts the people he cares about by trying to get them away from him. he also DIRECTLY protects the people he cares about (looking @ the scene in entry 72 hwre he directly stands face to face with the operator in order to protect jay. fuck that is one of my favorite scenes in the whole fucking thing. ) BUT HE IS ALSO SUPER SELFISH. he protects himself. he thinks hes protecting himself by shutting everyone out. he goes off on his own because he thinks thats the safest option. dont even get me STARTED on masky becausde i have a lot of complicated masky thoughts and this is already so very long. but like. u get the idea.

OK FINALLY. BRIAN. MAN. brian makes me so so so sad. doomed from the start motherfucker. he was tims first and best friend and . even though i stand by the fact thay the events of mh should not be blamed on tim. this was also . brians doom . hes so doom player. i also have a lot of complicated hoodie thoughts ans i think i need to rewatch a bunch of the totheark videos before i can fully formulate them all but . brian is. pretty much gone the whole series. he lost his memories and his sense of self so early on, so we see hoodie more than we see brian. brian is doomed to. lose himself basically. and even as hoodie i think he knows this . so all of his focus is on guiding jay, having jay lead him to the ark (still. somewhat unclear on whay the ark actually is . i think i need 2 sit down and just watch the whole series again tbh. so if this sounds like total bullshit pls forgive me i am jusf a little guy) anyway. he OBVIOUSLY knows more than jay does. debatably even more than tim does. how does he know these things! seer behavior. he knows that theyre all fucked though. there are plenty of allusions to death in the totheark videos and. well. despite whether he is actually guilty of this or not, tim certainly blames him for Jay's death. hoodie left them the note that led them to benedict hall which was. the death site for literally 3/4 of the entire group. doom player behavior. he saw that their deaths were inevitable and unavoidable and set pieces in motion to get all of those things to happen because he knew it had to. but hes also really passive with the way he interacts. very rarely does he actually directly give things to jay, most of the time its through codes and indirect contact and simply leading him/guiding him rather than. explicitly directing him. (which. silly side note. enrichment for jays light player tendencies. tossing him a puzzle feeder full of snacks like here you go buddy figure it out except the snacks are his friends' inevitable deaths)

GOD I HOPE ANY OF THIS MAKES SENSE. I AM THINKING ABT THEM SOMUCH DUDE.

LOOKING AT THIS WITH MY EXTREME AUTISM STARE. OGUHGOHGFH. ALEX KNIGHT OF VOID NO UR RIGHT UR SO FUCKING RIGHT. LIKE YES PRINCE OF BLOOD WORKS TOO BUT KNIGHT OF VOID IS SOOOO. AGH. he's gone and that kickstarts the whole thing. yeagh. THE OPERATOR AS AN EMBODIMENT OF VOID MAC I AM GOING TO START EATING GLASS UR INSANE FOR THIS AND ALSO SO SO CORRECT. OH MY GOD. obscuring information, hiding things, taking and taking until there's nothing left. operator lord of void and alex its unwillingly loyal knight. im going to start throwing things AGHHHH!!!!

void is so so the opposite of light which makes heir of light jay SOOOO INTERESTING. trying to achieve the opposite of what alex is doing. obsessed with knowing, with untangling the mysteries, finding out the truth. HE BECOMES THE ASPECT OF LIGHT, OF KNOWLEDGE. HE LOSES HIMSELF IN IT. IT CONSUMES HIM. light players attract attention from the narrative and jay is at the centre of ALL OF IT. HE is the one making the videos and posting them. he is the main character. remember when tim gets mad at jay for posting the videos for the entire world to see??? jay is MAKING THE NARRATIVE. HE IS THE NARRATIVE. HE IS THE MEDIUM THROUGH WHICH WE CONSUME THE STORY. and he will do ANYTHING to expand that narrative and give the people watching more and more information. he wants others to have this knowledge. he IS the light and he will spread information at the detriment of people close to him.

oghhhh don't even get me started on knight of heart time. ohg. he IS selfish!! and he will use that selfishness to protect the people close to him. he cares so so fucking much and it's killing him. and sometimes the best way to protect others is to be away from them no matter how much he doesn't want to be alone. heart is about identity and self. these blackouts he keeps having make him wonder who he even is with the mask on. he doesn't know who he is anymore. he barely knows who everyone else is trying to be anymore. ur so fucking right he is SO heart player coded AGHHHH!!!!! THE GUY EVER!!!

oh my god brian seer of doom drives me fucking insane crazy batshit stupid. holyyyyyy shit. yeah. oh my god. he's known they were doomed from the start. seers are a guidance class meant to nudge the other players on their destined path. he. he does that. he sets things in motion for himself, alex, and jay to die. it was inevitable and he knew that. he gives jay these little puzzles to decode (ENRICHMENT FOR HIS ENCLOSURE!!! seer behaviour <3) he's a shepard guiding them to their deaths I'M GOING 2 BE SICKKKKK!!!! he's always known there's no way for any of this to end without his own death and the deaths of his friends and in typical seer fashion he just kind of. accepts it. pushes the others onto the same path. lets it happen. rose behaviour!!! he's such a doom player but seer is literally such a perfect class for him ohhh my god. yeah yeah yeah. ur so right. i'm going 2 eat my fucking computer <3

#friend tag :3 #whiskeys word soup #AGHHDFGHDJFSKGJG MARBLE HORNETSSSSSSSS #oh my god. ohhh my god #heart player tim drives me fucking insane crazy thank u for this mac thank u #gonna b thinkin abt this for the next WHILE

3 notes · View notes

shit-scfandom-did · 4 years ago

Note

so i have a few questions

1)i cannot understand how you ship k*ramel. their relationship was FILLED with toxicity. from mon-el failing over and over again to listen to what kara had to say to him basically telling her to give up being kara danvers. convincing her that "being supergirl and having you is enough” was absolutely horrible. karamel had their moments but overall it was toxic. then in s3 mon el was married and the whole point of season 3 was allowing them to move on. accepting the toxicity from s2 and pushing past that romanticized time. mon el was a better person by 3b but he was still married. even if mon el and imra did break up in the finale there’s no future for karamel. even during 5x13 kara went to ask on advice about lena. and when winn came to visit from the future not a word about him. she’s moved on and it just wouldn’t make sense for kara to end up with him.

2) how can you hate lena so so so much?? it’s been said over and over again that all she’s ever wanted to do is good. though she’s designed to be this morally grey character. she has FLAWS but that’s what makes her so good. she’s a victim of abuse and you can see her struggle with that especially in seasons 4 and 5. in 5 she definitely goes down a questionable path but how can you expect her not too? after being emotionally abused by her brother, betrayed by her family, andrea (this did happen before kara), and then eve. finding out that kara and EVERYONE she loves has betrayed her as well. I mean how could you not go mad?? and even when she “went mad” she was trying to rid humanity of PAIN. something she later realized was a necessary part of life. her hurt blinded her from reality and lex’s manipulation pushed her down further. she’s been hurt and broken so many times and while that’s not an excuse for what she’s done you have no sympathy for her and that I find appalling. lena has realized what she’s done is wrong, that she’s made mistakes, what she did to kara, and she will have to live with that isn��t that punishment enough? she’s apologized and is trying to make up for everything she’s done by saving the world (again). your unnecessary hate towards her infuriates me. cant you take a step back and see the whole picture?

3) why DONT you ship supercorp or accept the queerbaiting? (watch this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C2w2GBXd_Pg) They are the core relationship of the show while the danvers sisters are the heart. they’ve gone through so so much together and practically dated in early season 2. they love each other it’s just oh so apparent. i like to believe one of the reasons lena reacted so strongly in s5 is because she was in love with kara and she couldn’t handle the person she was in love with lying to her. and kara flew around the world to get lena’s favorite food!! if that’s not romantic idk what is. I feel like you’ve developed such a clouded view of supercorp that you need to take a step back and understand what lena is the love of kara’s life.

wow what a long message. im not here to hate. im here to inform & undertand. i get it. karamel had their moments and even MY perception of them might be a little cloudy. im not going to hate you for liking them. hell I even shipped them for a little! my brother thinks 3b mon el and kara would’ve been perfect but he understands that supercorp is just where the show is leading and he wants them to be endgame. but what I will hate is your hate. what’s the point of all this? this thread, this account is going to do NOTHING. so why bother? I debated sending this and I hope I’m not too harsh at times but I really wanna see what you say. I hope you can open your eyes to lena and supercorp. maybe even become a supercorp shipper yourself!

- thanks and supercorp endgame 💙❤️

First of all, if you want to discuss ships in the future send this type of anons to facepalming-since-chernobyl, this blog is not for this, but for gathering receipts.

1.I just ship it, I don’t get why you have to understand it. It’s shipping. But if you insist:

No, it was not filled with toxicity. Count me when he failed to listen to her when they were in a relationship. Secondly, he is not a dog, he has his brain, he is his own person. People don’t always do what others asked them to do. It’s not slavery.

He has NEVER said to her to give up being Kara Danvers. How did he exactly convince her? How can you read the scene that he convinced her that being supergirl and having him is erasing Kara Danvers? In this scene he supports anything SHE WANTS to do. Also, Kara Danvers doesn’t equal Kara being a reporter in CatCo. On that moment she had her blog. She change people’s live with it like a real reporter. She took the risk and met consequences of her actions aka being fired by Snapper. Also, remind me who told her to create a blog? With your logic Lena was erasing Kara Danvers too.

Friendly reminder that he was forced to the marriage to keep peace. Also, friendly reminder Imra and the Legion out him in this situation without telling him about her plans. She and Brainiac put him there, knowing exactly how much he loved Kara and how much she meant to him. Imra knew that, that’s why she asked him to stay and solve his feelings. She said if he had come back, she would have known he had no doubts. But he wanted to stay, that’s why they broke up. He came back because once again he sacrificed himself for the greater good, like a real hero. Maybe watch the Argo eps because they clearly show that no, it was no about moving on.

It was not accepting about so called toxicity. First of all, she already forgave him that he lied. Secondly, all of she was screaming in that scene, when she was infected with M’rynn’s powers, happened before they got together and it was already approached in the musical ep. Aka, this scene had no point.

There is no future for karamel because you say so?

Kara went to asked him, because she truly believed and trusted him and his judgment. And yes, she asked about Lena and what did he said? That Kara deserved the same compassion she gives others, something Lena never gave her. And sorry, I know all scs scream the 100 ep was about sc, but it was about Kara fully realizing she is not responsible for Lena’s horrible choices. That’s it. And friendly reminder she called her a villain in the last scene. Also, the ep showed than no matter what, Lena always ends screwing something, because she has too big ego, always knows better, doesn’t stand criticism and doesn’t trust anyone.

It doesn’t make sense for you. Suit yourself.

2.Her fans made me hate her :) Thanks to them and how they excuse her every horrible action, how they treat her as a victim, while she abuse everyone etc. I started to watch her more carefully. And well, she is a horrible, white, privileged capitalist, who plays god, judge, jury, has mommy issues and acts like typical Luthor while crying she is not one, while still using Luthors money and resources.

Yeah, many people want to make good and end doing evil things. Common people pay for their sins, she has never. Since allowing hostile Daxamite army to invade the Earth (also, her portal affected the other aliens who destroyed the NC), producing a device that could recofnize aliens without their consent (and it was used by Children of Liberty,)producing and lying about Kryptonite, trying to make people superpowered without any supervision, killing Adam during illegal experiment, supporting openly alienphobic president and in a way Agent Liberty, killing Lex and then blaming Kara and finally manipulating Kara for months, lying, gaslighting, yelling, making her steal Lex journal, trying to lobotomize her and tortured with kryptonite, hurting every way possible, physically and mentally. Working with mass murderer, enslaving 3 people (kidnapping Eve, without her consent putting AI into her mind, basically RAPING her brain and making her a puppet in her own body; enslaving end experimenting on Malefic and Russel – threatening to kill him to steal Andrea’s necklace) – none of it are flaws. It was horrible abuse and violating every human right and the fact some people excuse it is disgusting.

First of all, being victim of abuse doesn’t give you the rights to HURT other people. The fact I have to explain pains me. Secondly, what abuse exactly? Lillian didn’t love her? Lex kidnapped her? Said he was going to kill her? You know what? Winn HAD HORRIBLE past and he didn’t turn into a murderer. Mon-El was abused by his mother and never tortured Kara with Kryptonite. J’onn killed a lot of white martians but last time I checked he doesn’t feel good about it. Also, never said the things he has done were GOOD. See a difference?

Yeah, and all of it, still doesn’t give her the rights to torture people. Also, friendly reminder she lied to Supergirl about Kryptonite in s3, much before the whole drama. Remember how she destroyed the life of a girl that stole boyfriend in middle school? It clearly shows she always had THAT in her. Plus, sorry not sorry, if she wanted different life, outside her family she could have easily done that. She was in Star City, with Jack, doing her researches, making her career. And she threw it all away, because she WANTED to be a Luthor.

Plus, sorry not sorry, if you feel betrayed and hurt because your friend didn’t tell you something she didn’t OWE you, you go to therapy, not trying to lobotomize entire planet.

Mate, she wanted to lobotomizer entire humanity, without ANYONE’S consent, because SHE, one single Lena, felt hurt. This is playing a GOD. Nothing explains it.

Planning a cold ass revenge for months is not being blinded by feelings.

Once again, even if could argue about how many times she was broken, most of that was a white privileged life she chose herself but whatever, it still doesn’t excuse her. All of she has done should meet consequences. Paying for shit you have done, accepting it, fully realizing what you have done is a part of redemption. Still in s5 she didn’t even apologize to Kara. Because she still didn’t understand what she has done and doesn’t feel sorry about it.

Feel appalled as much as you want, because I’m not going to feel sorry for a white, privileged woman who has never paid for her actions and is basically a living avatar of the worst Karen you can imagine.

She realized Lex was using her horrible experiments (remember? She experimented on puppies too) to his own agenda, that’s why she went to Kara. That’s not grasping a thing. Mhm, if you call that an apology then suit yourself. She is not saving the world, she is helping once again other people fixing the shit she created.

Feel infuriated as much as you want, because I don’t care? Especially when it comes from a person who tells others to take a step back while being totally narrow minded about Mon-El and karamel.

3.Because actors, prodcuers, writers call SC a female friendship. Mel did that in her last interview. See whatever you want but maybe stop forcing people to ship a horribly abusive ship.

Well… no. Kara is the heart and soul of the Supergirl. Alex is her most important relationship. Lena is an important friend, who doesn’t deserve it yet, but we all know Kara is the Paragon of Hope so of course she is going to forgive her.

I know you people think sc dated because they breathed in one room, but in s2 Kara dated, had sex, kissed, cuddled and enjoyed her time with Mon-El.

Yeah, they love each other as friends. It was said more than once.

That’s your delusion, you are free to do it.

Kara done that to Alex too, so you are saying she is romantically in love with her sister or something? If bringing people food is romantic and damn, most of the people I know loves me, god.

No, lena is not Kara’s love of her life.

Cool, you are not going to hate me because I ship karamel, I’m touched.

Sorry that you are going to be super disappointed in the end of the show I guess.

You will hate my hate – what’s the point of it?

Once again, because I don’t think you understand the point of this blog or read the description – it’s gathering receipts of assholes who cross tag and hate on the actors. Maybe go and search #gross hate or #cast hate on this blog so you can see how amazing your fandom is. Have fun.

I would rather eat my own shit than starting shipping the victim of abuse with her abuser.

Thanks and no :)

#anons

165 notes · View notes

sanchoyo · 3 years ago

Text

danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳

-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol

-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)

-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO

-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)

-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)

-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings

-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?

-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.

-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK

-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom

-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.

-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)

-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!

-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH

*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!

-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN

-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!

-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET

-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)

-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later

-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!

-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭

-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again

-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe

-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.

-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this

-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.

-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!

-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH

-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)

-'billy fenton'.......................

-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.

-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.

-this is the most screenshot of all time

-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.

-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.

-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.

-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy

-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(

-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....

-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...

-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D

-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN

-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.

-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)

-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god

-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...

-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...

-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs

-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!

-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.

-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.

-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.

-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.

almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!

#sanchoyorambles #dp thoughts #danny phantom

9 notes · View notes

shizzlinghotbrason · 4 years ago

Text

ok so nearly everyone in the fandom is doing this and as sad as it is that we need to remind these simple things to people, I feel the need to talk about this too.

I won't make this too painfully long because I know y'all most likely already know this and I just wanna put out a basic list of shit you should always follow in the fandom. But for those who don't, a lot of fan content creators, be it artists or writers or just general fans trying to enjoy their time, have been leaving/quitting the fandom.

Why are they leaving, you ask? Toxicity. Toxicity nearly everywhere. People can't hold respectful debates or discourses on interesting topics regarding characters/the books/ships anymore without someone toxicly stating that only their opinion is correct, and going off on anyone who has different opinions carried with a lot of aggressive, rude and shallow behaviour. Fanartists have gotten death threats and are scared of drawing art for the Riordanverse without getting anxious af.

Now the thing is, having done those (eXcepT for the death threats) doesn't automatically make u an entirely shitty person. Maybe you made a mistake and came off as rude without rlly meaning to. That's okay. Here's how to identify if u ever did so, and to change that behaviour. Again, it's okay to make mistakes, but we rn as a fandom srsly need to try to turn things around.

Some basic shit you should remember being a part of the fandom:

• NO NSFW STUFF WITH MINORS!!! That means fanarts, fanfics etc. But here's the shocking thing- when someone does this, you can actually hold them accountable WITHOUT SENDING DEATH THREATS AND CROSSING THE BOUNDARIES! Cuz doing that only makes YOU stoop just as low. Pl e a s e remember that always and be respectful whatever you do.

• That being said, ppl are allowed to write nsfw stuff IF said characters are aged up, aka 18+. Ofc, it's a must that they put a content warning beforehand because many people may not want to read that. BUT, if you don't want to read it and if they've aged up the characters so nothing's morally wrong or gross, then please do NOT hate the author in the comments, do NOT report their post/account. Seriously dude, they gave warnings, if you don't want to read it just scroll past it's not that hard. Unless it's with minors, you shouldn't be reporting innocent ppl's accounts like that.

• one thing that I've seen a lack of in the fandom are trigger warnings. I've seen several fics whose covers are literally of blood. And entire chapters were written with intricate graphic descriptions yet with no trigger warnings or a tw wayyy down in the caption. you never know what may be triggering to someone if a lot of ppl see ur content but the least u can do is put trigger warnings on the most common stuff. I get that it may look aesthetically matching if it's a murder mystery sorta fic but isn't the well being of people more important?

• look I'm not saying you're not allowed to have opinions, but the problem is when you start treating your opinions like facts. I can't count the times I've seen someone state their opinion like it's facts and then trash on other's for having a different opinion. PEOPLE ARE ALLOWED TO HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS. Stop attacking people for liking Jason more than Percy or vice versa, there's no rule that you absolutely have to like one or the other, ppl can like who they want. When you're stating UR opinion, it would be nice if you used stuff like "I personally think that..." or "... that's just my opinion" because again, Ur opinion is just that, not a fact.

• if you can't have discourses or discussions about certain topics respectfully and nicely then don't have them. if someone's done nothing wrong but state their opinions and you don't like it, don't go attacking them. if you don't have anything good to say, shut up and just scroll past. it's not that hard. we don't need any more negativity in the fandom. If you feel like you're about to snap, mute or block the account you don't like and move on with life. But for the love of GOD don't go out of your way to be agresive or hateful to ppl. They have feelings too and run fan accounts for fun, not to get upset and hurt.

• when a fan account owner has made a post saying what they think of a certain topic, and you comment saying you think they're wrong and they reply that you didn't get the point of their post, then chances are you most probably actually did not understand what they were saying. when this happens, pls don't go on forcing ur opinion onto them as if you got what they meant when you didn't. Maybe next time when someone says you didn't get what they were saying, ask them nicely to explain it to you instead of going off like that?

• firstly, shame on you if you've ever run a hate account. just why? how much more negativity do you want to add? if you come across a hate account please please report it and block it and tell your friends to do the same. if you're targeted in a hate post, I'm so sorry, please know that they're shallow ppl just trying to make you feel shitty, you're dont have a trashy fan account; what they say is false and done purely to spite. report and block them.

• I know Rick has written a lot of racist bullcrap and hasn't batted an eye when we complained about them, but that still doesn't give you the right to send him death threats. Again, no death threats to anyone, yikes.

• don't use fanart that's racist. don't repost them either. Piper has feathers in it? don't repost it. also if you can't exactly and properly credit artists, don't repost their art saying "credits to the artist". I've done that before too but now I understand that's not right.

• also, while we're at it, can we all please universally agree on non-racist fanon stuff and get rid of racist canon stuff? like Piper and feathers, and piper & hazel with colourful and golden eyes, Piper's stupid not like other girls behaviour, and all the other bullshit Rick has put into the books. We as a fandom don't accept it and pretend they do not exist, no racism in this place 🥰‼️

• ppl are allowed to have their own headcannons, it doesn't matter what's cannon. Don't go "but in the books it's.." because in the books there's a lot of shit, and besides, if someone wants to headcannon Percy as brown? black? totally alright! they're allowed to do so! don't go bUt pErCy iSnT pOc iN tHe bOoKs. same goes with sexualities and etc headcannons. as long as they're not erasing the already representation of a minority, it's okay to have headcannons of your own. Like Hazel is canonically black and we should respect that and bring out the best of that, yk what I mean?

That's all I have to say for now. I'm usually a very light-hearted cursed meme account on here but things are getting out of hand. I was wanting to make my 8 yr old brother get into the Riordanverse fandom but seeing the situation of the fandom rn scares me. We need to think about the kids in the future who'll be in this fandom, whose lives will be changed and shaped by these books. Surely, the older people in the fandom before us would be utterly disappointed at what it's become and it's our job to constantly look out for the fandom.

If you're leaving/have left the fandom, I'm so sorry that it got to that point, but ur wellbeing comes first, do what you feel is necessary to feel better, all of us send lots of positive vibes towards your way! and to the peeps who've still decided to stay in the fandom and use their account to talk about this issue, I cannot express how thankful I am of you for doing such an important thing right now. And to everyone - as Harry Styles once said - treat people with kindness.

17 notes · View notes

ot3 · 5 years ago

Text

My approach to flat colors + limited palette drawings

This is a follow up to this post i made about how i go about figuring out a color palette for my limited palette drawings. an anon asked me about my actual technique of finishing them so this is gonna be an explanation of how I work in a limited palette with flat colors. I ended up with these thumbnails for a sketch last time so we’re gonna work from here and I’m gonna sort of walk through how i got to the finished version

first things first: every part of this process is just developed as a result of me messing around. take my advice with a grain of salt and if you think you know a way to do something better/that makes you more comfortable. go with that over what I say.

I’m honestly a little surprised when people express confusion about how i draw like this because it’s SUPER simple - literally all you’re doing is just stacking solid color blocks of shape. its very imprecise despite how sharp everything ends up looking.

First things first is that you want to decide how you will be handling your edges throughout the duration. Do you want your shapes to be ultra-sharp and precise, or do you want a little bit of a wobblier, grainier edge? Both can look good but it’s VERY much a matter of situational basis. i’ve been favoring looser and grainier shapes so that’s how i’m going to be working on this.

on the left here, you can see the shapes made with precise rectangular selections and an untextured pen, on the right, freehand drawn shapes and a grittier pen. There’s something immediately pretty different feeling about them. So play around with that first - its not something that’s fun to change halfway through! But lets step back a minute. It helps to work large to small. The two biggest shapes here are these orange chunks and everything gets stacked on top of them so i’m gonna do that first.

Now, a key feature of what i do: clipping masks. almost all digital art programs have them. What a clipping mask does is it constrains the pixels of a layer to the transparency of the layer below it. Here I have the light orange layer, and then on top of it the buildings and billboard are clipped to the orange. Most of you probably already know this and I’m overexplaining a bit, but there was a time when i didnt know how clipping layers worked and someone had to explain it to me.

now you’ll notice the shapes of the buildings are rough, and sloppy. here’s the fun part: since this is all about stacking shapes, only your exterior edges matter. this all gets filled in. be as sloppy as you want when you’re making your shapes. in fact, the outside edges get trimmed out a bunch to when i do this - i go in and erase them clean. Don’t be too finnicky about drawing perfect and precise! its a waste of time. As long as the silhouette is what you want, the interior can be a nightmare.

Working this way, it’s important to keep your layers stacked in a way you can make sense of. Right now there are four layers here: the background dark orange, the two main orange rectangle shapes, and then the buildings on one layer and a billboard on the other. I rack up a LOT of layers doing this and it makes it annoying in some aspects, but being able to freely recolor any one chunk without losing my detail is a key aspect of this.

So, I block those out

Next, I do the same for the smaller chunks that are still main shapes. There are once again, a lot of layers here. The top layer is the hair - you can see the head showing through it. The head and arm underneath the hair, same layer. Then the cup. Then the light green pieces of paper. Then the dark green ones.

The cup is technically farther forward than the head and arm so you would think it’d go on top, but the point isnt to recreate the foreground and background hierarchy with layers so much as it is to group things in a way i can work with. The cup goes underneath so it can be grouped with all the other objects on the table.

now, i just go and fill in all the shapes. i forgot to do the blinds but i get them later. you might notice a lot of these shapes are pretty rough, which was harder to notice before they were filled in. Now that I can see better, I go in with an eraser and clean up the edges until they’re the shape I want

sometimes erasing leaves little bits of ‘noise’ around objects like on this napkin here. i like to keep a little bit of this noise for texture, but if you dont like it make sure to get rid of it! if you’re working very crisp this will stand out a LOT

Next up is to add some detail onto the objects

I flipped the canvas here because the head shape was wrong - the ears were uneven and i wanted to fix it. I want to go about adding detail onto the billboard and buildings. i do all detail with clipping masks - but the objects are clipped to another layer and so nothing can be clipped to them. instead, i unclip them and just erase by selection for the same effect

all of the text on the papers is clipped to the papers below it. the buttons are clipped to the phone. the yellow photos and card are actually another independent layer on top, in case i want to recolor them separately. im indecisive and end up recoloring things a lot. For the most part these objects are starting to become recognizable as more than just shapes

i go in an add the details on the background and character now. theres some more stuff on the table. the lines of the face and ears are on one layer, and the flats of the eyes below that. Here’s what each group of layers is, and what they look like on their own

The background/bottom chunk. Just the table, window, and shirt.

The middle bit. All the stuff on the table and the blinds.

Finally, the top, which is just his head and arm.

now this stage is the bare bones of the drawing. you can more or less tell everything that’s happening. it reads. but its very much lacking in something - it doesnt have a ton of depth or interest. and adding that additional detailing, the dept and interest, is where stuff starts getting REALLY tricky and subjective.

im gonna take you to a much simpler scenario to show the sort of options i go through at this stage

ahh its our dear friend, sphere casting shadow. this is, more or less, the kind of image we have. you can tell whats happening but it’s lackluster. there are TONSSS of ways frm here that you can go add interior detail to a shape once it has been established. here are some quick and SUPER rough examples

from top left to bottom right: flat cel shading, softer airbrushed/gradient shading, halftone, and a textured brush. Each of these has their strengths and weaknesses. They can also be combined.

for example, here’s the solid cel shading being used to contain a gradient/airbrushed detail. This image - probably the single oldest piece of my art i still willingly show people - is entirely colored with gradients being contained in cel-shaded chunks. It has a sort of soft, luminous quality but without losing its crispness.

here’s a super quick bust with some variations of stuff going on. obviously this is no masterpiece but you see how different types of detailing can interact with each other and be used to distinguish materials too.

With the mob psycho comic I did, the detailing that wasnt line was done using a variety of halftones of different shapes layered on top of each other

by contrast parts of my ace attorney comic use a textured brush and have a sort of blended, papery feel

any of them can work for pretty much anything as long as you are using it with intent. practice around. mix styles of finishing together. find a comfort zone. the more you do it the more intuitive it becomes and at the heart of it this process is a very intuitive way of drawing because of how far removed it is from realism.

Now here is the trick - light and shadow.

Everything up to this point has been very flat and adding detail helps but there’s only so much that can accomplish. To get HEAVY light and shadow you need to think about things differently. I think if there’s any part of this process that’s complicated, its this one.

To truly get the most out of your palette, you need to pick chunks of an image to be in higher/lower light and then either ‘step up’ or ‘step down’ the colors in that chunk. here’s what I mean.

Here’s our ball with a beam of light on it. Everything Within the beam of light is one step in our limited palette lighter than anything outside of it. Here’s how I go about doing this: the shape of the beam of light is below everything else. Then, once I have the shape blocked out, i select it. With that selection in place, i go to EVERY SINGLE LAYER that’s effected, lock the opacity, and recolor that chunk. So what’s going on here is that there is only one more layer - the beam of light, below everything but the background, and the rest of this effect is just caused by every layer above it now being two-toned following the exact same silhouette. THIS is why it’s so important to keep your layers separate - if the shadow and highlight had been painted onto the base directly, i would not be able to do this without significant effort.

This works with all of the finishing techniques I talked about above

A combination of cel shading and half toning, all stepped up to give the appearance of heavier light on one area.This is also how I go about rendering transparency in this style. All of my layers are fully opaque and I allow the colors to do the work of conveying transparent material

Here’s our ball with the patterned/textured brush shading, being viewed partially through a window

it’s obviously not a very representational way of working, but as long as your audience UNDERSTANDS what you’re trying to convey, then you’re executing it successfully.

So with that, now we’re gonna go and finish this drawing.

For this one, I decide a big central shadow is necessary. In the original thumbnail, he was backlit, which I still plan on doing, and that wouldn’t make sense without casting a shadow.

I’ve had to change the colors of some objects entirely in order to get this to work right. This is what I mean when I call this an intuitive process - some stuff felt weird, so I changed it. This also involves a bit of problem solving. The newspaper is now unable to be separated from his hand. Sometimes changing the color of an object makes that object look better, but ruins its relationship with the objects around it. It’s up to you to learn how to adjust and finagle things until you get it where you want.The paper he has and the napkin underneath it also all blend together now.

The next few parts of this process are REALLY just trial and error, where I toss a bunch of spaghetti at it until it works. It’s hard to decide what to screenshot, because I don’t know what will or will not be part of the finished drawing. To that end, you can watch the recording of this drawing here. This video isn’t edited at all so it contains a couple of minutes of really shitty sketching, and then all of the color thumbnailing work i did in the last post. Actually getting started on these final colors begins around the two minute mark. It is also sideways, I am sorry I don’t know why.

Now, here you can see where I’ve more or less worked things out. His hand’s not on the cup anymore because my friend pointed out it didnt have an arm attached to it. I added some halftoning to make a gradiating effect in the sky and on the table to give the impression of a sunrise. His eyes are different but as of posting this, I don’t like them and am probably about to go back and change them again. The Cup now has a shadow and some rim lighting. His hand is in shadow. The stain on the napkin is big enough to define the edge of the paper on top of it.

Little things like that.

The more you draw like this the more the way you need to think about your space becomes natural. I hope this helps and I wish you all the best of luck!

#long post #idk what to tag this yet again #reference #color theory #i guess

117 notes · View notes

sadsapphicslut · 4 years ago

Text

chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!!

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

Chapter One

A Dead Brother

I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

“Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,�� she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

❈

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

“Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

It rang four times before he picked up.

“Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

“Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood – that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene. My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

❈

The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

#my writing #writing #original writing #original content #original fiction #creative writing #dark academia #tw death #tw drugs #tw mentions of sex #tw swearing #tw mental illness #tw medication #alo writes

6 notes · View notes

beizhuo · 4 years ago

Text

alright folks , i made this post last night about amending my carrd rules . & now , after calming somewhat down from getting sick to my stomach about it , i must now make one final update post about this to make people really & fully understand where i stand . why ? because i am , once again , having / needing to finely comb through the people i want to follow & interact with due to some very , VERY toxic behavior & terrible , childish individuals that think its real cute to stalk , harrass , steal , & gatekeep folks .

understand that i will NOT be namedropping anybody in this post . this is not my intention . i am not out here to isolate folks or make people ‘ chose sides ’ . making people do that is absolutely horrible ! i do not give a damn who other people interact with . i do , however have extreme issues with theft ( amongst other things ) . i can draw a god damn line at theft !

harassment ? don’t care . you’re trolling , i can ignore you . gatekeeping . you’e petty and attention seeking im here for friends anyway . but actual literal theft - i can draw a line there . please get out & OFF MY BLOG if you are so unoriginal that you haveta steal from me or my friends !

please know that you can interact with those thieves & gatekeepers , i don’t care ! but understand that i will most likely softblock you because i genuinely do not want them to find me . no hard feelings . ( they have found my other 2 blogs , and i am tired of them finding me ! especially for baizhu ! i don’t even follow some of my friends here cause of this ! ) i am not even in the genshin community to begin with . my group ? we don’t do communities for toxic behavior and people being so exclusive to the point of driving people out & away . its distasteful and mean ! do you know that i have some friends that were cut off from communities entirely all because they were a dupe ? tHAT is the kind of dupe drama i fucking hate . along with theft . anyway . i will start from the beginning of my rules that i deem important .

DUPLICATES . ( AND MIMICRY / THEFT )

the irony that this is the first point . it is like it was a wonderful transition . anyway . this is actually having to deal with two rule points . and i want to group them together cause they are related .

myself & a few other people have come to find out that .... there is somebody AT THE VERY LEAST taking inspo from us . i will start with dupes .

my friend has a character and was WHOLLY mistaken for another mun . which is fine . that happens , but things took a turn for the worse when they were then shunned / cut off because they werent ‘ good enough ’ . do you know how HORRIBLE that is ? to be told that you aren’t good because you weren’t the mun that they wanted ? this is the type of shit i cannot stand with dupe drama . DO NOT EVER COMPARE DUPES WITH ONE ANOTHER !!! i mean it .

i follow different childes ! and you know what i adore them both . they are both amazing !

sure i may have my mains / exclusives ( and im not inclined to interact with other blogs of that same character ) but i still like portrayals . i do , in fact , just READ threads sometimes . i don’t necessarily follow for interactions . like ffs man . i like variety . jesus christ .

going to mimicry / theft . you know ... i have fucking seen this with a couple of friends . there is a difference between coincidental similarities , however ! for myself & for my friends , we have SEEN inspo taken from us . im gonna say this really loud for people .

MIMICRY IS NOT FUCKING FLATTERY .

do not take inspo from me . especially without credit . absolutely do NOT do it . you are very unoriginal for doing that shit .

now , you like something i make / made ? you are inspired to want to make something ? fine , that’s okay , you can ALSO fucking ask me , you can also credit me . as you fucking should ! you can notify me and go , damn , i really like your style , do you mind if i use it in xyz ? sure , go right ahead . do it . im begging you , go ahead and do it IF YOU FUCKING ASK ME . god im so fucking angry about this , but this is some vile shit . and im angry .

i am angry and terrified cause i literally cannot get away from these people cause they seem to be wherever i go . i DO NOT DO COMMUNITIES BECAUSE OF THIS .

as a good friend said : it’s like they are a virus that you cannot get rid of .

thats what happens with attention seekers unfortunately , but for the sake of my safety & health , i will not have it on my blog or dash . if i see these people on my dash often , i will unfollow .

and it isn’t like a specific person , its a GROUP of people . which leads me to my next point .

DRAMA / CALLOUTS.

imagine having beef with an individual , and then going around and gatekeeping that individual and getting people to unfollow / block them . im not talking about , ‘ hey this person is vile because they ship incest ’ . i am talking about ‘ i had a disagreement with this person & they hurt my feelings >:/ they are mean and will hurt you . etc etc etc . ’

i do not give a flying fuck about somebodies issues with another person . so you guys don’t get along . not my problem . i have people that hate me . i have friends where i hate their friends . shit happens . i am probably absolute scum to some people lol . i get mistaken for other people sometimes . it’s fine , hate me cause you think im that person . that person is snowflake repellent anyway , go choke on your kool aide that you are drinking ig .

okay sorry i am angry but still . people claim and cry about wanting to talk & communicate . but then . guess what . sometimes shitty people are like , so this person said this to me , and they are mean . IF YOU ARE THE PERSON THAT GOES ‘ OH MY GOD HOW DARE THEY ’ AND BLOCK THEM THEN YOU ARE THE PROBLEM . i will give an example . of using my two names that i have .

somebody goes to amphy and says ‘omg ghost said this , and im frustrated and angry with them cause what he said was uncalled for . ’ if amphy goes ‘ omg ghost is shitty ’ and then unfollows / blocks them without any other discussion , then thats an issue cause ghost has no idea wtf happen . amphy got involved in YOUR relationship with ghost even though ghost has been nothing but kind and sweet to you . you also don’t know if amphy is just victimising or being emotional either . so why they fuck would you believe somebody who is venting to you about it and then block somebody who did literally NOTHING to you .

i dont know if i explained that correctly but i will give you something more realistic , again without namedropping .

i have a few friends that hate one another . i’ve known all of them for years . but they all , i kid you not , they ALL fucking hate each other . there’s three of them . and they cannot stand each other . i just happen to be somebody who gets along with all of them . you bet your ass that at one point , they all came to talk mad shit about the others . what did i do ? i went , oh okay . well im sorry that you have issues with them . sounds like a bad experience , but i can’t do anything about that cause i am not you and i am not them . if you are gonna change my mind , it isn’t gonna happen , sorry !

i have had people shit talk people i have no idea who they are , and i just sit here just being a source for them to vent , but i never NEVER EVER act on anything i hear . why ? cause its petty drama and gossip . if you do that , then damn , sorry kiddo , get some help on that alright ? maybe be nicer . i dunno .

now . racism ? pedophilia ? incest ? HARMFUL SHIT ? that’s different . but again , theres a lot of miscommunication . i have people coming and pulling the cards like they are hot shit and that isn’t fucking cute . THAT ISN’T CUTE GUYS . you are the problem if you try to victimize yourself cause of something YOU misinterpreted .

i have a friend that has this on their blog .

i am literally going off on a god damn tangent . anyway . :)

fuck you if drink kool aide .

THERE ARE OTHER MENTAL DISORDERS! YOU ARE ABLEIST IS YOU ERASE THE OTHER (UN)COMMON ONES.

i know that autism is the ‘common’ one here . you are valid okay . but guess what . ADHD , BPD, DiD, and straight up depression and anxiety are also things as well ! there are MANY folks here that are also undiagnosed as well OR they lay on some sort of spectrum as well . I am once again not going to disclose my own things here cause again THAT IS PRIVATE INFO , but fuck you if you refuse to see other disabilities .

also there are physical disabilities as well btw .

if you are not understanding of any other disability , or you wanna mute / deafen other mental disorders , YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM .

end of story .

treat other people how you want them to treat you and don’t you dare ever shove your baggage at them . thanks .

please be more understanding that some people are not okay:tm: .

i implore you to get help if you need help , but sometimes some people dont have to take your shit . and they most certainly do not need to sit and take your issues if they are not okay either . its toxic and very unhealthy behavior to expect others to help you . they can help you as best as they can , but you need to understand that everybody has their moments . do not guilttrip them . do not gaslight them .

but also understand that sometimes , people are saying things cause they genuinely need help ! you can be there for them but as a friend , you need to also tell them your own boundaries as well and tell them that they need to seek professional help .

but also , if somebody refuses to get help , then that is on them . not on you .

anyway another tangent , but back to the point . autism , while you need to understand is something you need to see and understand , is not the only mental disorder ! and you need to understand that some people suffer from really REALLY shitty things and are sometimes undiagnosed . i am really REALLY tired of depression , ADHD , BPD, and DiD getting brushed under the rug like they are not important . cause guess what , there are spectrums ! all mental health is important . fuck you if you disregard the other disorders , you are being ableist .

STOP HATE READING PEOPLE.

im really sick and tired of this . you don’t like something somebody said ? you can either : ask what they meant or block / unfollow them .

DO NOT FUCKING STALK THEM EITHER .

you have an obsession if you hover on their blog too .. do not do that . that is SO unhealthy for you . here is what a friend said on twitter . ( not name dropping them , just copy pasting them )

❛ i stg people need to fine a better hobby than to hate read a persons blog or profile. not a good look on you when you go and read what they post about just to get angry at something you think they said and then you go off spewing lies about it cause 'youre offended.'

like you already hate them in the first place. you weren’t 'looking to see if they were a better person.' youre just looking to find another thing to hate about them.

that is what hate reading is about. so you can read their posts and find just another reason to hate and laugh at how bad you think they are.

but it doesnt make you a better person. it just makes you a sad person with no life. stop hate reading people. grow tf up. go breathe on some plants or something idk.

i say this very loud and clear . if you hate read me , i live in your head rent free . not my problem . but it does become my problem if you begin to steal shit and start spewing lies about myself or my friends . grow up and move on with your life . sorry my life seems more interesting than you ig . idk .

anway this got long , and at this point i am going off on a tangent but !!!!

TL ; DR

read my rules ig . idk .

you can dm me for more info if you want . at this point i have blocked the problem blogs for myself. if you are curious you can ask . HOWEVER. i am not going to tell you to block or unfollow . why ? cause at the end of the day , it is MY beef . this are my issues . i am NOT here to gatekeep .

i will say that i will tell you IN private the for MY story . but keep in mind that it is MY story . not yours . not theirs . it is all about perception .

my perception is that they are scummy gatekeeping thieves . they gatekeep the people they dont like or are intimidated by . i am somebody who fucking bites and calls people out on their shit , because of this ? i make enemies . but my enemies are not yours . i dont care . dont give a damn . i am intimidating to people who are cowards and i don’t care .

if they feel bad when i call them out , if they try to go around and do damage control , then that means they are guilty .

and then you can ask yourself this : why are they reacting like that ?

i am once again going to bring up that other twitter user that i quoted before .

❛ you dont like hearing that because someone is holding a mirror up to you and it makes you uncomfortable because you know you . and you know the parts of you that are good . so in your heart you have to come up with a narrative that makes you feel better about the fact that somebody is asking your to confront the parts about yourself that you hate the most .

anyway . this got long . im so sorry for the long read . im so sorry i sounded hostile ad angry . im just volatile sometimes . im just really tired . and i dont need to come on this blog and have a panic attack .

anyway . cheers loves ! stay happy , stay healthy . drink your fluids . take your meds !

#long post.#update tbd.#ooc tbd.#// i have no idea what else to tag this tbh .#there is drama mentions though so there is that i guess ?#but this is all important so ...#anyway ...#read / skim this or perish 🔪#also if you wanna like this to let me know you read / agree with this go ahead .#im not checking for typos i am tired .

2 notes · View notes

memecucker · 7 years ago

Link

thanks for the submission anon! not sure why the entire article was pasted but i’ll put it under a cut. i dont endorse everything said here but i think its a worthwhile read

The question remains as to whether Canadian polemicists know what they are talking about when they denounce “cultural appropriation”. I don’t think they do. I think they are misrepresenting the phenomenon and bloating it to useless dimensions, sloppily borrowing American terminology, and bending the reality of Canadian history out of shape. I also detect a familiar narrowing of the dominant vocabulary that is authorized for use by the media in public discourse, so that one term or phrase is used to do the work that previously several different concepts handled. Confusion is the inevitable result—and that is by design. It is intended that we should be confused, since that spawns endless circular debates, irresolvable conflict, parties speaking past each other—all of which works against sharing, against acculturation, and against building a stronger national society. It also works against the indigenization of Canadian society, the cultural side of the economic citizenship that I defended here. Instead we are turned into mutually hostile bands of litigants, constantly parsing each other’s statements for even the smallest sign of something which we might find offensive. We are constantly feigning fainting spells, our delicate selves being so overwhelmed by the daily outrages against our reputation (brand).

Some well-placed Canadians do not know the difference between cultural appropriation and assimilation, and the errors that ensue lead to a falsification of Canadian history. To begin with, assimilation in its most basic historical sense involves a dominant group (typically colonizers) absorbing or incorporating the dominated group (the colonized) into the social and cultural norms of the dominant group. The indigenous culture is thus meant to be extinguished, and those who once belonged to that culture now acquire a new culture—they are converted to the culture of the dominant group. The indigenous culture is in no sense “valued” by the colonizer—it has no value, it can be held in contempt, and was usually targeted for erasure. Not to be mistaken with the unidirectional process that is assimilation, acculturation involves “those phenomena which result when groups of individuals having different cultures come into continuous first-hand contact, with subsequent changes in the original cultural patterns of either or both groups” (Redfield, Linton, & Herskovits, 1936, pp.149–150; see also Herskovits, 1937, p. 259). Both assimilation and acculturation are examples of culture contact, culture change, and more broadly, “diffusion”. Cultural appropriation, which is not as well defined as the previous terms and does not enjoy as long a history in North American anthropology, is muddled because it could mean taking over or taking from or simply borrowing. The corollary is that when a culture has been subjected to appropriation, that culture continues to exist intact: I can claim that your culture is now mine, but that does not mean you cease to have your culture; I can acquire select values, practices, and motifs, and make them my own, and again that does not mean you lose those elements; I can borrow an item, inspired by you, and you lose nothing as a result. Where cultural appropriation seems to rise to a condition of conflict, is when commerce and formal ownership are involved—but then that takes us to cultural exploitation, which is far removed from simple acts of sharing and borrowing.

Focusing just on the pair—assimilation vs. appropriation—recent evidence in Canada shows the monumental errors that are made when appropriation is used to handle the meanings of several very different concepts, all at once. Here, for example, is Jesse Wente, a Canadian Aboriginal, not a chief of a nation but a self-described “Ojibwe dude” who, not to be falsely modest, is a figure in the Canadian mass media, a self-appointed gatekeeper and culture broker, and a purported specialist on “diversity” and “inclusion”. Wente recently vented the following:

“It’s easy to say you don’t believe in cultural appropriation when it’s your culture that has been forced on many, while erasing there’s [sic]”.

He is right: it would be easy to say that, because it’s wrong. What Wente describes in that quote has nothing at all to do with “cultural appropriation” (it’s the opposite), and everything to do with assimilation. At no point does he describe the dominant culture taking from the dominated culture. This shows that Wente does not even know the meaning of appropriation. However, by accident, especially in making us correct his mistake, he points to the actual reality of Canadian history, which has been one of assimilation, rooted in utter disdain for Aboriginal cultures, expressed in a desire to beat the living crap out of those cultures and turning Aboriginals into clones of white people. Aboriginals did not “appropriate” modern, Western, Christian, individualist and capitalist lifeways: these were forced on them. There is no such thing as an involuntary appropriation. It’s the same history of assimilation that made it possible for Wente to write in English. Canadian policy was never about making Canadian settlers more like Aboriginals, to encourage appropriation—to even suggest that is a terrible perversion of Canadian history.

The history of residential schools in Canada is not a history of “cultural appropriation”: it is a history of assimilation. In 1883, Canada’s first Prime Minister, Sir John A. Macdonald, explained the residential schools policy to the House of Commons:

“Indian children should be withdrawn as much as possible from the parental influence, and the only way to do that would be to put them in central training industrial schools where they will acquire the habits and modes of thought of white men”.

(That will take us to the next section and how genocide has been conceptually mangled by deliberately and confusingly rephrasing it as “cultural genocide”). The policy of residential schooling was explicitly an assimilationist one—as expressed in the famous words of Duncan Campbell Scott, the Deputy Superintendent of Indian Affairs from 1913 to 1932:

“I want to get rid of the Indian problem….Our objective is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic, and there is no Indian question, and no Indian Department.”

It was a policy of “taking the Indian out of the child,” and abolishing the Indian altogether. The idea was not to create a tabula rasa as an end in itself, but to erase and replace, by forcibly converting the child to the dominant, British Canadian culture. It is closer to being cultural imperialism than it is to cultural appropriation. However, since the authorized discourse in the elite-controlled media has successfully narrowed the vocabulary of Canadians, no such mention of imperialism ever surfaces, in any context.

We can conclude that the problem with the “cultural appropriation” idea, as deployed by gatekeepers, is that it either does not actually describe and explain the phenomenon to which it is assigned (and thus does not exist), or it does exist in other contexts but we are not told why that is anything other than the normal course of cultural diffusion. We also know that cultural appropriation is not a prominent part of Canadian history, which instead emphasized assimilation of indigenous peoples. Finally, in some cases, what is being marked as cultural appropriation is instead actually cultural exploitation, which is more than just borrowing. Do you get the sense then we are being told there is a cultural appropriation “problem,” when none actually exists?

As for cultural exploitation, that is not an easy issue to settle. Numerous Aboriginal hip-hop musicians in Canada borrow from US sources without apology, just as in central Australia there are Aboriginal reggae bands, playing their music without sending shiploads of tribute over to Jamaica. This is not to mention the many dozens of zombie films made over the past century, all done without paying royalties to Haiti. (Perhaps the producers of The Walking Dead were very clever in avoiding use of the Z-word.) The problem lies with the intentional spread of rules of “intellectual property” by governments and international bodies working in the service of a neoliberal political economy. An expert class of managers arrogates to itself the right to instruct and aribitrate over how we can learn from and be inspired by other cultures. So much for “market freedoms” then, and so much for “globalization,” when the very upholders of both of these are revealed to be little more than rent-seeking racketeers.

Enter the lawyer: Olufunmilayo Arewa is a professor of Law, at the University of California, Irvine, writing in The Conversation US, an online publication made possible by many of the usual giant capitalist US foundations and expeditionary philanthropists such as the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, the Ford Foundation, the Henry Luce Foundation, the Carnegie Corporation, and so forth. The “funders” vary by country, but are usually an assemblage of banks and foundations. The Conversation is part of a growing trend that Pierre Bourdieu warned about decades ago in Homo Academicus (pp. 112, 119, 120, 267, 268, 297): the blurring of the lines between academia and journalism which reduces the autonomy of universities, makes them answerable to market audiences, and introduces journalistic standards of renown into a field previously dominated by standards of scholarship.

Thus it is not surprising to see Arewa’s piece in The Conversation—it is not so much predictable as it is almost mandatory that it would appear there. A lawyer, writing as a journalist, based in a major US university, backed by powerful foundations, all of which gives us a glimpse into the dense cluster of special interests that have been vested in the manufactured debates around cultural appropriation. This is a field dominated by elites—academics, journalists, bankers, lawyers—not an organic outgrowth of some popular outcry existing at the “grass roots” of indigenous communities.

Not to keep the phenomenon safely out of the reach of such special interests, Arewa (in loose language uncharacteristic of careful lawyers) blurs the lines between cultural appropriation and cultural exploitation. The accent is on exploitation, an arena fraught with danger, with loud claims for compensation, restitution, reparations, profit sharing, royalties, etc. An example of this deliberate slippage is where she writes, “borrowing may become appropriation when it reinforces historically exploitative relationships” which she quickly follows with a mention of opportunities to “control or benefit” from cultural “material”. I do not mean to suggest that Arewa is careless, sloppy, or lazy—I think that the language that bleeds from one concept to another is deliberate, intentional, and vested with special interests. The aim is to produce a “problem,” a problem that can only be solved in the legal arena and the marketplace. It is a neoliberal problem of diversity management, that demands neoliberal technologies of control and capital accumulation. Culture is turned into “material” that can be “controlled” by someone. (Who? You can guess.)

There is nothing ambiguous about this: if you read Arewa’s piece you will see the words above immediately followed by a section devoted to artifacts, museums, and a bunch of dollar figures—translation: culture as property, held by institutions, sold in the marketplace. It is the finale of her piece that gives away the motive in writing it:

“An understanding of both borrowing and appropriation should be incorporated into legal, business and other institutional frameworks. In fields such as intellectual property law, greater recognition of the power structures underlying borrowing in different contexts is important. This can be an important starting point for blocking future exploitative cultural flows. And it can help prevent extraction of more cultural booty”.

This squarely places the discussion of cultural appropriation in the neoliberal zone, where everything is commodified and then privatized and thus subject to the “rule of law”. Culture—whatever that was—becomes a matter of “intellectual property law”. Luckily, being a lawyer herself, Arewa is one of those who presumably stands to benefit. And that is the trick behind all of these attempts to regulate our speech and social interactions: subject them to regulations, censure and censor violators, and create capital for specialists who appear, as if by magic, to expertly mediate the whole problem…a problem they conceptually manufactured in the first place. The final gift is that the rules and norms of capitalism can be used to heal the rifts caused by capitalism—this really is magic.

There is one more area, a critically important one, where the conceptual wizardry produces benefits for elites, and losses for those who are supposedly meant to be protected, and that is the Canadian invention of “cultural genocide”.

It was shocking to see Canadians accepting the notion that the history of residential schooling—where children were forcibly taken away from their Aboriginal parents, to school them out of their Aboriginal heritage—has been officially defined in Canada as “cultural genocide”. Conveniently, there is no such concept under international law, and it thus whitewashes Canada’s reputation for what it really is: a state guilty of genocide.

Of course, no state guilty of genocide has the political capital needed to lecture and threaten target states of the periphery. “Cultural genocide” avoids that problem, and is useful for evading any talk of UN sanctions and Security Council resolutions.

There was no conceptual need to speak in terms of “cultural” genocide—everything that is essential to the history of residential schooling is already covered by the existing UN charter on the “Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide,” and has been since 1948. The key text comes under Article II, particularly point (e):

Article II

In the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:

(a) Killing members of the group; (b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; © Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; (d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; (e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

A lawyer quoted by the CBC, reportedly made the following points: “Schabas compares the use of the term genocide to a very hot spice that ‘transforms something from being rather old news into something that gets the headlines’. Sometimes, he says, it also makes it harder for victims to reconcile with the perpetrator groups”. That is one remarkable statement. Not only is the history of residential schooling in Canada not “old news” (it only ended in 1996), the nature of the term being like “hot spice” never stops Canada or other Western nations from liberally applying it whenever convenient, against target nations abroad. Wholesale fictions of “genocide” were invented about Libya in 2011, to justify NATO’s intervention—few, let alone in the CBC, were ever heard to say, “Hold on now, that’s a hot spice term, and if we use it then that might prevent the victims from reconciling with the Gaddafi government”. Instead, much of this CBC article, in the ample tradition of liberal hypocrisy, casts about for the appropriate legal scholar to lament about how, aw shucks, it’s too bad we do not have “cultural genocide” in international law…when the current convention against genocide already covers exactly what happened with Canadian residential schools. Such blindness is not incompetence, it is wilful. It was sad to see indigenous leaders abide by all this, as if they had won something significant, instead of acknowledging the political fraud for which their experience was hijacked. How ironic then that this indigenous “leader” should declare: “If you can’t identify what the issue is, then you really don’t know what you’re working with”.

In my book, Ruins of Absence, Presence of Caribs, the central concept and argument focused on the “reengineering of indigeneity,” where indigenous identity became vested with the interests of specialists emanating from several arenas surrounding the Caribs in Trinidad & Tobago: the national state, the Catholic church, the mass media, local businesses enterprises, local government, academia, tourism, NGOs, and international governmental organizations. We see a similar vesting of special interests in the fabrication of the “cultural appropriation crisis” and the story is not one of mendacious leftists (there are those too), but should instead be seen as reflecting neoliberal capitalist patterns.

Lawyers, professors, journalists, and other self-appointed gatekeepers: these are some of the specialists, sanctioned by the media and governments, who litigate and adjudicate the neoliberal commerce in culture, that is, culture turned into property and removed far beyond sharing, parody, mutual insults, and all the interactions that make up everyday social life. To be clear, never once have we heard any sort of popular indigenous outcry over “appropriation”—what we are made to hear instead are the voices of lawyers, academics, media pundits, and diversity consultants who show up with business cards, courtesy of the new cultural policing. We are therefore dealing with interests vested in reengineering culture into a series of specialist turfs, accompanied by calls for recognition, rewards, and fees. Regulation of culture by the rule of the marketplace generates bureaucracies, and these bureaucracies create capital for the culture brokers that arise to take advantage of the opportunity. Even better, the manufacture of conflict over “appropriation” produces the space for appointed experts to intervene, and to inevitably acquire capital. This is the path of culture that is instrumentalized, or even weaponized.

44 notes · View notes

survivor-rotuma · 5 years ago

Text

Ep. 10: “when you do clownery... the clown comes back to bite.“ - Lysandre

Brianna

WELL THAT TRIBAL SUCKED ASS!!! But at least a bunch of powers are out now!!! Also I got a brand new ride or die ally with Joey of all people!! We are the best friends 4eva. Anyways. I feel the complete opposite of safe. Kind of hate it. At least I’m still here tho. I still got a chance.

Felix

Messiest tribal ever. And I never even had to lift a finger lol. I still think Joey and Brianna are goats. They'll be my new FTC now. I'll surely win with them there.

joey g

brianna and i went from never speaking to being f2 #bestfriends4ev #missuflint

Brianna

I was really able to start a fight between Apollo and Felix yay. And Joey and Boris are fighting. Yay!!

Felix

I should be able to win this writing competition. I feel like I am a very competent writer, so hopefully it all works out in the end. My literary prose will surely earn me the win. I do not feel particularly safe. Especially considering all the craziness that just went down at this tribal council. No one can be trusted besides Lysandre in my opinion, but, at the end of the day, I need him to go soon as well. I need to have people with weaker games than me. Otherwise, I don't know if I could win with powerhouses like Apollo and Lys here. I would need to impress the jury a lot, but I don't know if I could do that with the game I've played.

Boris

that was by FAR the messiest most cracked tribal and rock draw I've ever been a part of in a game. And I'm so shook that it was almost solely because of what I did. Is my game royally fucked? yes. I don't think there's any way I make it to the end. But if I do make it to the end? I think I have a really decent shot just because the jury will appreciate how insane I am. Felix doesn't trust me at ALL. Lys is PISSED at me. Apollo says he has my back but is acting like he doesn't because he's trying to get on everyone's good side. Joey is PISSED AT ME. and brianna is Brianna. So yeah idk I think I'm screwed! And I have no idea how to create stories so we'll see how this all pans out!

Boris

I literally took a sledge hammer to my game tonight I'm so fucked

Lysandre

Boris when you do clownery... the clown comes back to bite.

Felix

I'm glad that Boris and Lys stan me to win. I just need them in the jury to have any affect. My preferred order now would be Apollo > Lys > Boris. These people need to go in order for me to win in this game. I will be the Sole Survivor. I am in the best position. And I will win my first ever game! Mark my words!

Felix

I have to rely on Boris at the moment because we need his number to take down Apollo. Apollo is my main target because he is the biggest threat in this game next to Lysandre. They both need to go in oder for me to win. Plus, Lys and Boris admitted he would vote for me in the end so we need to get them into the jury. I know that Boris is a rat and is therefore untrustworthy, but it's a risk that is needed in order to take out arguably the biggest threat to my game. I'm in most FTC trios except Apollo's and Brianna's, but one half of that is irrelevant (guess which one). I hope this goes well and I didn't just terminate my own game.

Felix

I cannot believe that Boris has one half of a super idol. This is ridicuolous. Now I am sort of forced to work with him in this scenario. Let's hope I can find the other half to keep it from him. I want this immunity so fucking bad,

Lysandre

So I really spent the entire day working on the challenge in hopes that I win. I also tried to idol search so that I could find the other half of the super idol and keep it from Boris or use it to bargain with him. It resulted in me finding a disadvantage that would not allow me to participate in the next challenge.

Felix

I told Boris to go to an idol spot where I know he won't be able to participate. If Lys and Boris both cannot participate in the next comp, it'll be easier for me to get that immunity. Especially if we eliminate Apollo from this game with this round. I'm praying he does not have an idol because I do not need that right now. Though I think he'd go for Lys which would eliminate a big threat to win at the end of the day. God I hope I win immunity

Felix

At the very least, Lysandre did not win immunity which means that's a bigger target is there to take care of rather than me. But I really want Apollo gone from this game. At this point, it's ridiculous if he doesn't leave. Ugh. Please Boris. Please me loyal and vote with me. Not even Lys. Just me. I need to make it to the end of this game.

Felix

God I hope Boris is telling me the truth and is willing to vote out Apollo. I lied to him that I would be comfortable voting out Joey at the next tribal council to sweeten the deal of voting out Apollo. Since Apollo and Boris were closely aligned since the beginning, it'd make sense if we got rid of Joey at the next tribal council in order to "return the favor." But that is not the game I am playing. I am trying to get to the end without Lys and without Apollo. I feel that I can win against everyone else, but it's those two that scare me at the end. The order has to be Apollo then Lys because Lys cannot participate in the next immunity so it'd be the prime time to get rid of him. At F4, any of them can go. I don't care who it has to be. I just have to be at FTC.

Apollo

Omg, omfg. Lysandre is Tim. Gotta be.

Brianna

Apollo is so...self righteous. It’s kind of annoying. Talking about how everyone lied to him and betrayed him at the zest vote like...he wasn’t lying to other people at that vote. Get over yourselffffffffffff

Apollo

Okay so last round was wild and I think my last confessional accidentally got erased before I sent it or o just never did so oops my bad. So Boris is fucking nuts and not only idols me to safety but goes to rocks and ends up surviving! Wtf!? I think that’s crazy. Everyone that told me that they were going to vote Lysandre last round, actually did the damn thing. Even Flint!? Who had 0 reason to keep me, went for Lysandre. It made me feel really good to know that I was able to wrangle up all those people after being on the bottom just the vote before. I’m starting to get a little fuzzy about whether I can win or not anymore, but maybe that’s a good thing. I’d rather underestimate myself than overestimate myself. I think I want to be at the end with Brianna and Joey since I think I could beat either of them at the end of the day. As for the other 3? Idc who goes when but they have to get the fuck out of here. I think lysandre is more likable than me but Felix will have too many people on jury rooting for him if he’s at the end. So as much as it pains me to say that I want Lysandre out, under the circumstances, I want Felix out now. I think Lysandre might have another idol up his sleeve perhaps, I guess we’ll have to see. I may or may not play my idol depending on how I feel about people talking to me later. If I can survive this tribal without using my idol it means I’m guaranteed f4. The burning question is. Do I go for Lys or Felix?

Felix

I think my time in this game is going to be up soon. I don't know if my relationships are strong enough to get out Apollo. And if we do Brianna then everything has to go perfectly at this next tribal council. It has to be Apollo/Lys next, otherwise there's no way we can win. I hate not knowing what is going on. I hate having to rely on Boris of all people. Ugh.

Lysandre

So last round was... interesting. It proved everything I feared. Boris lied to me and I was right in playing my extra vote. In hindsight I should have just voted for Brianna twice but I didnt because I had faith in both Joey and Boris. Joey fucking voted for me which is surprising because the goat that he is... he grew braincells and decided to play the game and he actually thinks his gameplay is enough to get my vote or anyone else's. This round is a whole bunch of playing makeup and everyone pushing their own agenda. My agenda is to get out brianna. Once she's gone my path to the f3 gets easier.

Felix

Lys wants me to commit to a F3 with them and Boris. However, I do not want to go to FTC with Lys. This will keep me safe for the time being, but who's to say that I will not betray Lys next round or the round after that. He is the biggest jury threat still in the game, and I cannot have him here robbing me of my win. I just need this for the time being to survive. Hopefully then will I make it to FTC.

Lysandre

Boris

Trying to come back from last round is so HARD. I want Joey gone. Lysandre wants Brianna gone. Joey wants me gone. Apollo wants Felix gone. Felix wants Apollo gone. I bet production put crack in the water to get up those views

Boris

I made ANOTHER F3 deal with Felix and Lysandre and honestly? I think it might be the one I'm actually loyal to? But I dont even know guess we'll see! I think Brianna is going tonight

Felix

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD. One. I found the second half to the superidol. I knew where the half was because it was the only uncharted area left. I sent Boris to a disadvantage. Two. I'm definitely utilizing it in order to get out Lys. PHEW. My wig! My social game is just THAT strong. I am literally getting to the end of this game and I cannot believe it. I love this for me.

Brianna

My streak of taking a nap the day of tribal has continued but. Nothing explosive seems to have happened. Probably just gonna vote for lysandre. If I get blindsided whatever.

Lysandre

I don't think this confessional would do the social game I've been playing any justice but I have been working my ASS off. I've been trying my best to get everyone to vote my way. Originally Felix and joey wanted to aim for Apollo, Apollo wanted to aim for Felix, Boris wanted Joey, idk what Brianna was thinking but it was probably me. I first tried to convince Felix and Joey to do Brianna then I tried to get Apollo to do the same but he didn't budge. I finally got Boris to fold and then later Felix afterwards when I basically told him it was him or Brianna and he managed to get it together.

Lysandre

GAME BREAKING NEWS Y'ALL. I sent Boris a big ole message after learning that be would be the deciding vote in tonight's and tried to convince him to stick with me and not Apollo. One thing led to another and Boris said the only way he'd do Brianna is if me, him, and felix were the final 3. So I made that alliance happen by talking to Felix and getting his consent. A FEW MOMENTS LATER. Felix found the other half of the super idol and we had to figure out who should hold it. We were literally the spider men pointing at one another when pointing out the times we have lied to one another and trying to find the most trustworthy in the bunch. We narrowed it down to Boris or felix since they have the halves. I voted for Felix to keep it since Boris has proved himself unreliable.

Felix

My superidol is an opal idol that allows me to vote two people and people can only vote between those two people. My plan is to use it next round between Apollo and Lysandre in order to ensure that one of them goes. Hopefully it will be Lys. I'll take out the last remaining one at F4 with the help of Joey and, hopefully, Boris. Even though I just made an alliance with them, I am going to betray them. I guess I am the villain of the season.

Apollo

I'm really fucking trying it this round, I either just secured my spot in the f4 or got myself a one way ticket to ponderosa. I think if it's time to go, thats okay too because I leave for Disney World tomorrow and idk if I"ll be the best at juggling the game and my vacation at the same time. If its my time to go, I want to Thank you Jay for bringing my crack't ass back into the world of orgs even if it was just for a little bit. I genuinely had a lot of fun this season, even if i get voted out tonight. <3

Brianna

I don’t know if...the jury supports me or they’re just being dramatic but like...COULD THEY TONE IT DOWN AKSNSKSNEJ!!! I don’t want people thinking im a threat to win

Lysandre

Hey look another tie! Oh no I'm in the tie.

Felix

These people are crazy if they think I'm not flipping on Lys. I am guaranteed a spot in F4 which my opal idol. I have come so far. If I stick with Lys, it will go to rocks. Apollo has only this one shot to take if he wants to win. I am not putting myself at risk. It only shows that Lys has power over me. It only shows that I am a follower to Lys and Boris. With this move, I can break away from all that and mark my own path. I'll be the villain, and I'll be the only worthy player standing at FTC. I have to ensure that this move takes place. I have to take out Lys now. It breaks my heart that I have to do this, but I know it must be done.

Felix

Loyalty has no place in Survivor. While it is true that loyalty gets you far, you must think logically and strategically if you ever hope to win. I have played so many ORGs where I was in Lysandre's shoes or my allies turned on me. But, at the end of the day, I got over it and voted the person who was strongest. I hope this jury doesn't turn bitter. After all, one bad apple ruins the bunch. But I have to do what's right for my game

Apollo

Well, I don’t know if I can say everything went according to plan? Joey kind of fucked everything up. Had he voted Lysandre, lysandre would be out, I wouldn’t have to deal with aftermath, and it would be challenge time. Honestly? I guess I am indeed the fucking villain of the season. I feel like Naomi smalls holding Manila Luzon’s lipstick in her titty. But you know what? IM PLAYING TO WIN, NOT TO APPEASE BORRIS AND LYSANDRE. Boris literally had the option to vote off Felix with me and Lysandre and I and Boris could walk to f3 but Boris showed his hand and proved that he couldn’t be trusted. Felix told me, while we’re waiting for this revote, that Boris leaked everything about me trying g to get him out. I’m so pissed off at Boris, he was using me this entire game, but I’m done being somebody’s pawn. So I went to Brianna and Joey and managed to get them to stick with me. I’m so pissed off at Boris, like fucking playing me since the merge. Like go choke honestly, it’s a game so I’m not that mad, but game was he can heck off. I’m safe next week because I have my idol so all I really have left is this final immunity challenge. Now I’m going to be in Disney world when it’s happening so it’s bound to be interesting. I’ll probably be the final juror since I won’t win it but at least I can say I put up one hell of a fight this season. I’m damn proud of my game. Lusandre told me about Felix’s advantage going into f5 which seems wild and way over powering tbh but we’ll see I suppose. He says Felix gets to pick two people to vote between in f5 to vote out. And he says that I’ll follow him right out the door if I don’t win immunity. Too bad I won’t need to, I’ll be immune with my idol next tribal. So I may not know if I’ll make FTC but I know I’ll b making f4 at least. If I trip and fall at the last lap of this marathon then call me Wentworth I guess.

Brianna

Late time to say it now but I love my horrendous hand writing on the votes when everyone else uses actually text. It’s really difficult to do it with my finger okay

Felix

It seems Boris is accepting the reality of Lys going. Now it looks like he wants to work with me again, but I see that as just a facade to convince me to keep him next round with my opal idol. But it'll be good because it means I can do whatever I want next round. I have to ensure, however, that Apollo does not win this immunity challenge. I need to keep it out of his hands. I want to vote him out sooner rather than later. Let's see how this all plays out. I think this is the farthest I've ever been playing a Survivor ORG. My mind is so fucking powerful.

0 notes

thegeminisage · 7 years ago

Note

Same anon from last night! This may be in parts bc of the limit: YES aside from the Kira thing (disaster) 6A was great. I AGREE. I would have loved to have seen Scott as the center of the Wild Hunt plotline, having him be erased would've pushed some really cool dynamics together (what do you do when the true alpha doesnt exist?!?) I like Stiles! I do! I just, wish my son Scott got way more recognition than he does and weirdly he gets thrown under the bus for Stiles’ sake a lot in fandom?

Like what show are these people watching when they say Scott is a bad friend? Scotts entire sense of self is constructed around keeping his friends & family SAFE/happy 5 makes no sense in his characterization he would never have doubted Stiles for a minute I know what you’re saying about there being a lot of plot to be pushed into just 10 eps but there is SO MUCH FILLER sometimes? That you’re like “do we need this sequence of dark hallway really can’t you just show lydia and scott mourn allison

TOGETHER like they 1000% would be doing" And I agree with your list of ranking the seasons! I guess with Kate/Peter popping up over and over I just get really tired? Mostly with Peter because it makes 0 sense that he’s faced no consequences to his actions. I wish we’d get more Derek without having to bring her back over and over again. A lot of my bitterness re: them is how bullshit it was to get rid of Kira and a bunch of other way interesting characters and have the gall to say

their arcs were “over” as if Kira going off into the desert to deal with her kitsune powers and then emerge LEVELED UP wasnt way more interesting than peter coming back for the hundredth time. Im excited for 6b, especially if its going to be them facing their fears and watching scott just blow everyone out of the water with his strength of character and his supportive speeches to his friends I cant wait. Im feeling very iffy about Scott/Malia bc it feels like theyre just shoehorning that

in to have scott have some romance without brining back KIRA LIKE THEY SHOULD Im sorry Im a broken record I’ll never get over Kira ever in my life watching them fall in love was like staring at a rainbow and especially the way they juxtaposed them with isaac/allison who were all sexual tension and snappy comments & god that was such a good season Im so sad always ANYWAYS If its cool Im going to come back to your ask box when 6B comes out and yell, I hope any of this was cohererent thank u

pls dw anon ur fine

scott being erased would have been so much bc then everybody would have got to go on and on about how much he meant to them, the lack of alpha would have been felt much more keenly, and instead of stiles’ mom coming back as the ghost rider, maybe allison could have come back? i know crystal reed was sick of playing a teenager, but she obviously wasn’t opposed to acting in the show again - that would have given everyone a lot of room to explore their grief related to her. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER. imagine if kira had been there! it would have given scott a chance to allow himself to move on and be with her because the real allison would want him to be happy, all that good stuff.

anyway re: the fandom & stiles i totally feel this like i love the boy!! but it’s so disheartening to see AO3 tags like “scott is a bad friend” WRONG, scott is the best friend anyone could ask for. even in season 1 when people say he’s at his worst, like, he’s young, and for the most part the worst thing he does to stiles is blow him off a few times when he’s in over his head and make out with lydia during the full moon. scott and stiles love each other man like to say one of them is secretly just The Worst friend is so dumb. that’s why i really like reading sciles fic - ppl who ship sciles like them both and typically tend to give them equal amounts of love in their work and usually do a pretty good job of keeping them IC. sciles fic is like…so Soft and cuddly honestly i love it when i want to read filth there’s always my rarepair

highkey agree with you re: kira like im finishing up my 6A rewatch as i type this and it’s SO INSULTING to bring back theo, who can do nothing, with kira’s sword, KIRA, who COULD ABSORB the lightning if they wanted to! you know who’s arc was over? THEO’S! like i’m WAY more tired of him than peter and kate - at least they’re fun to have on screen. theo just makes me wanna commit homicide

tbh the scott/malia feels like to my posey and the girl who plays malia started dating? like idk if they did or not, but the reasont he sheriff dated natalie is bc theyre married irl, the reason allison started dating isaac was because they were dating irl, and…idk, it just feels weird, to me, and ~unexpected~ which apparently JD loves (MELISSA WAS SUPPOSED TO GET WITH THE SHERIFF, HELLO), and like so far (again, aside from kira, where is kira, you’re gonna bring back all these people and not kira or for that matter DANNY??) that’s the only part of 6B i’m side-eyeing. i dont feel like it’s gonna work. but like i said, i’m keeping my expectations low. i did not in 1 zillion years expect to EVER, EVER see derek hale again, and here he is, so like…i’m just floating along on the sheer joy of that fact. tbqh. also have confirmation that my secret rarepair is gonna interact in 6B, so i’m just gonna like. like i said. 2much excitement for words. highkey gonna die

anyway pls feel free to come back to my inbox ANYTIME anon ur honestly a delight to chat with!!

#liz answers asks #tw anon #teen wolf #Anonymous #i wasnt gonna cut this but im trying to protect cathy from 6A spoilers lol #cathy dont read it!!

2 notes · View notes

the-green-haired-fellow · 8 years ago

Text

Jerome request-

anonymous asked: Hi, i dont know if you take requests, but if you do; can you write a jerome x reader in which the reader gets really seriously hurt and jerome is scared?

“When will she be out?” Jerome sighed not looking at the man in front of him. Dr. Berry was nervous afraid Jerome was going to slit his throat, the only reason he hadn’t was because he was necessary in fixing her. “We.. We don’t know right now” Jerome chuckled finally bringing his red rimmed eyes up. The Dr. Stared deep into them being hypnotized buy how green they had become. Y/N had been in a car accident in an effort to kill the both of them. Jerome came out fine but both the Doc and J knew Y/N may not be walking out of the hospital. Jerome tensed up not wanting to ask. “What...” He clenched up his fists “Condition is she in doc?” He smiled. The doctor backed up “She’s lost a lot of blood and remains in critical condition. I’m sorry” Jerome jumped up happily in the empty hospital. “No worries Doc” he slapped his shoulder winking. “There’s plenty more where that came from” The Doctor watched as Jerome left the hospital as if nothing had happened, completely flabbergasted. Ever since Jerome had his face reattached Y/N had been in every head line standing with her arm around Jerome, showing off her 1 million dollar smile. They were in every robbery, every performance act. Everything. It didn’t make sense for him to leave like that.... then again he was Jerome.. a murderous dickhead.

The doctor made his way to the hospital bed Y/N was laying in. She was attached to a bunch of I.v.’s, breathing shallowly. He gently dragged his fingers along her forehead. She was a very beautiful girl, pale, cool honey colored hair. He imagined she was what the angels his parents always told him about looked like. She was no angel; she had killed innocent people with out batting her cute green eyes then walked into the arms of someone she thought she loved, someone she thought loved her. He shook his head and walked out of the room, it was silly for him to get caught up on her life she was going to be in the asylum as soon as she was able to walk then she wouldn't be his problem.

Jerome’s point of view

It felt wrong leaving without her pussy cat laugh going off as she clung to my side. I thought maybe if I left her there she would fade.. fade far away from my thoughts.. She didn’t though, she never does. I stepped outside of the hospital still wearing the dapper suit that had been trashed by our little car “accident” I chuckled pledging to seriously mane then kill the pleasant young men who did this. I didn’t even know who the bastards were yet or what their grand motive was. All I really knew was Y/n was writhing, dying in pain her perfect mouth screaming until her last breathe was taken and I was here.. alone.. no accomplish, no one. Police sirens screamed in the distance most likely coming for me. It was quiet in Gotham the city of sin. How drab. Like the dull feeling that was pulling so hard in my chest.

I didn’t look at her after the crash in.. fear?.. worry?.. me being a pussy? She was the most beautiful, breathtaking girl I had ever seen. We had grown up together- two flowers in a garden of weeds. Her having joined the circus at thirteen, abandoned by her parents she showed up by the ring leaders tent shivering, tattooed and bleeding. I popped my little innocent head out of my trailer hearing the authority of a police man’s voice and there she was. Long honey blonde hair dripping wet sticking to her neck and shoulder’s. I was in awe of her, just at thirteen she had managed to become the most perfect and interesting crouching in this world. My 13 year old legs pushed me to jump out of my trailer to get a closer look at her- so I did. My feet landed with a squish, splattering the muddy ground below. It was 11pm so I was able to creep around everyone’s trailers until I reached the lion tamers which was right in front of the ring leaders.

Curiously I listened in on their conversation, keeping this new mysterious girls breathing and every sound she made first to be heard. “We found her in the water just off of the west shore floating and half dead. She told us her parents threw her in there.” The police man seemed to look down on her like she was a creature to be pitied, something she would grow out of quickly. Our ring leader Dwayne was not impressed keeping his arms tightly crossed around his fat body. “Why haven’t you taken her to the orphanage?” I remember feeling a horrible panicky feeling rising in my chest, the feeling now makes me laugh. Through my young head I was screaming “no” and “What if they take her? they can’t! She’s my destiny!” silly things but serious at the time.

The police man spoke softy stepping closer to Dwayne “They all keep rejecting her because of well... Show the nice man sweety” The police man spoke gently to the girl. As if rehearsed she held up her little arms showing the black ink mapping out designs of naked girls and vicious animals all around her arms and up onto her neck. Something in Dwayne changed. He stepped closer carefully grabbing her arms looking them over, she was a strong girl and didn’t flinch at his undeserving touch. Dwayne slowly nodded his head looking up at the cloudy dark skies, the only dark place left in the city. “She can stay. I understand” The cop smiled shaking his hand and talked over some of the legal troubles but I didn’t care it was my time to make an entrance. Clumsily I stomped out from the shadows sticking out my hand, a smile wide on my face. “Hey-ya I’m Jerome who are you?”

“Jerome, not n-” Dwayne was interrupted by her soft voice. “I’m Y/N” Then before I knew it her soft hand was in mine.

Having come out of my little day-dream my unconscious mind had lead my back into the hospital, standing at the door that led to where she was being treated.I put my hand on the door knob not knowing exactly what to do in this situation. “Can I go in or what!?” I yelled looking at the nurse behind me. Scared she nodded quickly. I opened the door but yelled out before totally disappearing. “Oh and don’t call the cops or I will eat your family alive” the nurse made a weird whimpering sound before I shut the door, locking it behind me.

I took my dear time before letting myself look at her. My feet led me to the large windows where I looked over the trash-pit of Gotham. Lights screamed out from every direction like the sounds from the traffic below. Getting bored I walked over to some machinery hearing my shoes squeak on the ground. I began turning knobs. Suddenly a loud beeping sound came from the machine and I jumped back a little startled accidentally looking at her. Her arms were covered in long rashes completely ridding of some of the designs that were permanently on her. Which maybe she would be happy about. It was like erasing the horrible moments of abuse that led up the her father inking her- maybe she would be able to move on from it. I grunted shaking m head violently getting those mushy thoughts out of my head laughing at how oft I had become. “I don’t even like you bitch!” I yelled at her laughing loudly in her face. “So die! So I can finally rid of your whole entire existence! Oh how sweet that would be!” I smiled twirling to the other side of her bed “Die! Die! Die!” I chanted in her ear. I was pretty set on her being dead until the familiar smell of her hair caught my nose.

I froze thinking of every night being tangled up with her, long strands of hair coming down and brushing up against my chest and face. Then she would lay completely on me and I would suffocate on that sweet, sweet smell. I shivered coming out of my head a straight beeping sound coming from the machine. I looked at it to see it was flashing a completely straight green line. She was dead, gone like I had pleaded with her to be a few moments prior. “Ah shit” I mumbled to myself taking out my gun. I kicked open the door putting on my usual smile and happy demeanor when honestly I was becoming a boiling pot of hot rage and regret wanting to cap every person my eyes could see. “Alright which one of you fine doctors will be fixing my lovely wife? Don’t say there no hope cause look at me” I made a circle around my face with the gun. “I came back from the dead. So get on it! or everyone in this very room will be blasted along with their wife and kids. Except for you..” I pointed at the same nurse as before “Your offer still remains the same” She shrunk a little gathering papers.

... Dr. Berry’s point of view

In three hours we had the girl back breathing. We shocked her and suddenly her body sprang up with a gasp. Her green eyes freakishly taking in the world around her but shorty feel back to healthy sleep. The rest of the nurses and doctors looked at Jerome who had the face of relief at the sight of her breathing body. His beady green eyes took in every part of her body seeming to relish in the fact she was breathing and alive once again. I thought to myself doubting my former judgement of him. Was it love? I chuckle a little at the thought, love? no infatuation? probably. “What’s so funny doc?” Jerome spoke coldly to me. Nervously I thought of something to say in hopes he would shoot me. “She’s alive” Jerome’s face seemed to soften, it was hardly noticeable but there all the same. “Yes she is” he drug his fingers a crossed her forehead the sensation waking her from her needed rest. “Where am I J?” She croaked. In an instant he was down by her side. “Don’t worry baby I’m going to get us out of here” he said while frenziedly petting her hair. She nodded slowly dozing off before conjuring up an answer. Jerome grabbed her face worried “Okay? you need to stay with me” Y/n nuzzled into his shoulder whispering “okay” putting the light back into Jerome's eyes. “Don’t do that here” he stood up dusting off his tattered maroon suit. “I have a reputation to uphold.” The room seemed to grow darker and the little light the hospital lamps gave off seemed to diminish under his glare.

“So which one you fine doctors will help Sleeping beauty and I out of here before they lock us away.” All of my colleagues seemed to shrink back afraid to accept the consequences if they help them out of here. I stepped forward speaking calmly. “There’s a black nova in the staff parking lot that belonged to a deceased gentleman, the keys are in a brown paper bag in the center council. I will help you carry her out. Karen?” I turned to look at her. “Get me the stretcher from the other room” Nervously she skipped out of the room to retrieve it. When I turned around Jerome had stuck his gun in my face chuckling. “What kind of rouse it this? huh?” he began to make a choking sound amoungst his chuckling. I put my hands up wanting to slap the hunk of metal away from my face.“No tricks. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.” motioned towards Y/n watching his face soften “No we wouldn’t want that” his voice was gruff lowering his gun he stepped closer to her lowering his gun with his steps. Karen walked gently into the room handing me the stretcher.

.....

I watched Jerome drive wildly away in the car, police sirens coming in the other direction. After we had gotten Y/n in the car he shook my hand informing me that if I ever, ever had the need to have someone killed he would do it for free, one time only. I nodded graciously thanking him. Months later I saw the two of them on the news, they had both been brought to Arkham for slaughtering a group of old people outside of a retirement home. The news showed the two of them being arrested. Y/n looked as beautiful as ever but had new tattoos made up of intricate flowers and guns as well as the Disney princess snow white for a reason that escaped me. Jerome looked stronger the stitching around his face healing but creating a clear line. They were being handcuffed and transported in different cop cars. Jerome looked angry looking frantically to Y/n then spitting at the cop that had his arms. Y/n screamed tears coming down her face. The news camera flashed back to Jerome from the damsel in distress who had both a his feet on the cop car door to stop the cops from throwing him in the car. This was shortly subdued when he was stabbed in the stomach by a black haired policeman knocking Jerome unconscious . This was followed by Y/n’s high pitched scream causing all the cameras to be shut off and the viewers attention was brought onto the charity ball going on that evening.

Thanks for reading all. Jared Joker story called “white demon” will be out. Until next time Same bat-time Same bat-channel!

#jerome valeska #jerome x reader #joker #joker x reader #gotham #joker fandom #joker fanfiction #jerome imagine #jerome will rise #batman #gotham fanfiction

199 notes · View notes