#like. it's happening. they're all getting out. they're all gonna be a part of the show

[menacingpolkamusic]

It's social justice telephone. "Trans men don't have all the privileges of cis men" -> "all men are oppressed for being men." "If you refuse to acknowledge that patriarchy also hurts men, the most vulnerable of them are going to go somewhere that actually listens to their problems and violent misogynists are going to give them the wrong solution" -> "if you were a little nicer to that catcaller he would change."

Because people hear "men" and the first thing that pops into their head is "my abuser." Most of us (there's always gonna be assholes in the conversation) are not talking about their abuser. We're talking about vulnerable men who have legitimate issues with patriarchy. There's a reason people are passing around bell hooks.

We're talking about men who truly want to be allies but are intimidated by women's valid frustrations, such as this man on the Chewed Gum show talking about his feelings on the man/bear question. Alyssa Ljub had a great response at 34:30 (abridged version):

[...] My brother [...] struggled a lot with being a very like sensitive, emotional kind of guy and that manifested as being angry and defensive when he was a teenager and through his more younger adult years, now he's 32 and a full adult and he's really understanding that what he's wanting to express is a more full range of emotions, but he didn't feel comfortable doing that because he was falling into that same mental pattern of that's not manly, men don't cry [...]

In the process of writing the TED Talk, I had given it to my brother to read and he went over it and [...] he encouraged me to look at it again and every time I referred to these like really atrocious things that had happened to women throughout time [...] he encouraged me to look at it and really consider [...] is "man" the word that I want to use, is it because men did this or is it the patriarchy, is it this system that we've created.

And at the end of the day, he was right because we all are victims of this same mentality, like this patriarchal mind space is the reason why [...] you are not super comfortable expressing a full range of emotions or it took you a long time to get there, similarly with my brother and similarly with how we all [choose the] bear and then we have a hard time understanding how men can't see it.

It's all the same system, it's the same machine and so there's a part of me that's always sort of like, it feels good to join in other voices that are able to say "bear and fuck the men who don't understand and that's not my job to teach them" and blah, blah, blah, like there's part of it that will always feel like turning the knife and it feels good for that moment but that's not actually a productive conversation and [...] that's not helping anybody.

And so the other part of it is, okay, [...] we're in this dialogue and [...] oh my gosh, men don't actually see it, they don't really understand why we feel that way and if they can't really understand it and they're in the same system that we are, it kind of is our responsibility to explain because if we don't, we're leaving them to their own devices to figure it out and when they're left to their own devices, they're at the hands of the same system that's telling them to shut down their emotions, be defensive and ignore what we're describing as physical risk that we feel with with strange men and that's not helpful, that's not helping anybody grow.

And so it's frustrating to some women, [...] "I shouldn't have to explain that" and I 100% get that, that's so valid but I think in this conversation, when we talk about how we move forward from how we have pushed men into being a specific type of person that is fitting into [...] this prototype [of] being really tough and minimizing emotions and unable to be vulnerable so that they can appear strong, when we've put men into that space, what pulls them out of it is vulnerability and softness and care and saying it's actually okay for you to want to be emotional in this time and it's actually completely okay that you're hearing this argument where people are saying bear over and over and you're like, "what the hell, I worked so hard to be the kind of man that people would be comfortable around and [...] I worked so hard to undo everything that I was inundated with as a child, like, and you still said bear?"

[...] I would encourage anybody who's listening who has that reaction of like, "I don't want to have to explain it to people. And if they don't get it, that's on them." I would encourage them to also consider how productive that conversation is. And if you, in that very moment, wanted to be productive. Sometimes we're like, "this is not worth it, I don't feel like having this conversation," whatever, that's fine [...]

I feel like that's the biggest thing that is inhibited for so many men in this system. They're not given the permission to feel everything that they want to feel and have a safe space where there might be an adult or a therapist, whatever, whoever is around them to say, "it's okay that you feel that way. And at the same time, the reason why women are saying bear is because even though you're a safe space, the information that we have, the statistics that we have about how many men are not is enough to make me say bear."

But I think at least in the way that I've experienced this conversation, especially with someone close to me, like my brother, where I've grown up with him obviously, and I've known him my whole life and seeing what made the biggest difference for him was allowing him to feel vulnerable and feel the full range of his emotions and actually process them through. Like actually see [...] "these are all the things I'm feeling and this is how we're gonna resolve it. And now I've learned something because I've actually resolved this feeling."

Notice how the person in question is her brother. It's not the catcaller who's feelings she's trying to look out for, it's someone she wants a relationship with. She could have written him off as just another angry cis man when he was a teenager, but she didn't. And now he understands a little of women's perspective and will hopefully try to reach men who wouldn't listen to women.

She recommends bell hooks as well.

Nooo mutual don’t put that “men fall down the alt-right pipeline bc women/feminists are too mean” post on my dash nooo mutual don’t try to say women need to be nicer when dealing with misogynistic men nooo mutual nooo

[eph3merall]

the atmosphere seemed suffocating, already starting to sweat as you stalk inside the house trailing behind chris. you reminded him of a puppy right now, all nervous glances and tripping steps as you try to stay close. his eyes scope out a few of his friends and he daps them up quickly, only to jerk his chin at matt in greeting across the room.

when you let your gaze leave chris for a few seconds and he's quickly pushing past sweaty bodies in the crowd, you feel your heart drop before quickly hurrying behind him. a few awkward stares were pointed your way already since you walked in with chris—especially from girls. pretty girls.

you spy him greeting his brother as you scurry towards him—standing awkwardly as chris settles himself into the worn, old couch. you don't necessarily trust the couch, having seen the things that happen on it..

matt is taking a sip from his beer and gazing at you warmly, offering you a 'hey' as you smile at him. matt's always been really nice—he's another one of your good friends obviously, being brothers with chris. speaking of, he's tugging you down into his lap and you settle back into a familiar warmth.

"we're sellin' t'some girls, right? 'cus y'said you had some guys who wanted to buy from you too," you're suddenly engrossed in some random shit when chris starts talking to his brother, his hands resting firmly on your hips—only to shift them so they're looped gently around to pull you back some more. you hear bits and pieces of their conversation, but then again, it isn't anything you're interested in.

you're lost in your own head, or maybe you're zoned out. chris isn't exactly sure when he sees you just staring into nothing. one of his hands subconsciously rub at your side through the top you have on, head turned to the side to speak to matt. in the crowd of the party he can see nate playing beer pong with some girl hanging off his shoulder, a red solo cup in his hand.

a few minutes go by and chris is whispering your name directly into your ear, watching as you blink rapidly and turn your head back to glance at him like a deer in headlights. he hates how cute you look, despises the way a fuzzy feeling crawls into his chest just at the mere look of you. his lips part with no words coming out of them before he clears his throat and starts ushering you to get up off him.

"gotta go somewhere for a second, but matt's gonna be here, 'kay? stay here w'him," before the words even register in your head, chris is shoving away through the crowd. you blink at his retreating figure, feeling a hand pat you on your lower back a few times. matt is jerking his head to the side gently—silently ordering you to sit down and just relax a little.

flashy, colorful lights reflect off the rings adorning matt's fingers. he's sipping from a can of beer and scrolling on his phone, occasionally glancing at you just to make sure you're okay. it's really just confusion, is all, because chris just up and left so quickly for what? you sink further into the worn out couch, the loud music and pungent odor of alcohol and drugs making your nose scrunch.

you feel a hand nudge your side, turning your head to see matt glancing at you. his eyebrows raise, as if asking you if you were alright—knowing you wouldn't be able to hear him now with the amount of hoots and hollers that abruptly started. a nod of your head has matt rolling his tongue over his teeth before getting up and mouthing the words 'stay here' to you.

you would've protested, because you didn't really feel like staying here all alone without anyone you know. peering eyes dart all over, unfamiliar faces sparing a single glance at you and then focusing back on whatever they were doing. your lips purse as you sink further into the couch, uncomfortable and anxious with how loud the music suddenly is and how the atmosphere seems so heavy.

it feels like an eternity before matt is finally back, blinking when he hands you a plastic water bottle. he settles into the couch beside you again, sighing and taking his phone out to scroll on. the plastic crinkles under your hand as the cap unscrews—taking a big drink of the cold liquid.

you dont know how long its been. youve texted chris a few times, too scared to get up and search for him. all of the texts are marked 'delivered', and a quick glance to your phone screen tells you it's around 1 am. where is he? chris said he would drive you back home. your thoughts consume you, knee bouncing up and down as you start picking at your cuticles, chewing on your lower lip. matt spares you a glance with raised eyebrows, and a second later his hand is on your knee. "stop that," his voice is barely loud enough for you to hear in the cramped environment.

you spare matt a frown a few minutes later, glancing around only to see chris devouring a girls face off while shoving her upstairs. his hands are all over her, and vice versa, and you can only stare until the two are out of sight. huh? confusion runs a track through your mind. he said he would drive you back home tonight. and he promised.

matt is reassuring you when you explain to him what you saw, his lips tugging into a frown. "nah.. kid's fuckin' stupid. y'know this. sorry, though.. he's probably high as shit too," his words don't exactly help, but you end up giggling at some things the brunette says.

you aren't even sure why you feel so upset. it's not like you're stuck here, because matt can just drive you back to your place. maybe you don't realize the wave of jealousy that washes over you in waves, making you feel all disoriented and confused. perhaps you didn't realize the desire you felt to be in that girls place. maybe you wanted to feel important enough to him that he wouldn't forget you so easily.

"s'just.. annoying. chris always does this, y'know that, right kid? doesn't ever really stick to his word," matt grumbles and you just shrug.

"yeah. i guess so," and yeah, it's true. chris doesn't ever really stick to his promises.

—

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx

©eph3merall 2024

[beefcakekinard]

[<-<- part one] [<- part two] ~ ~ ~ [part four ->]

Buck makes it maybe five minutes before he gets the urge to look something up.

"Absolutely not," Tommy says, snatching Buck's phone out of his hands. Buck makes to grab it back, but Tommy pins him with one arm around his waist and holds it out of reach with the other. "You picked the movie, Evan, Google can wait."

"I was going to go on Wikipedia," Buck scoffs, because there's a difference. "Google-"

"Google is useless these days, I know." Tommy slips Buck's phone into the back pocket of his own sweats and rearranges them, spreading out more along the couch and pulling Buck on top of himself. "Enjoy the movie, Evan."

Buck sighs, loudly, pretending to be put-upon, but he really can't complain. It's still a little novel, being able to just spread himself out on top of Tommy like this. He settles more as Tommy starts dragging his fingertips up and down his spine, just like he had been when Buck woke up. It's so comfortable, so familiar, so Tommy. The movie continues on - background noise, almost, with the way Tommy always pulls his focus without even trying.

With a jolt, Buck pulls himself from the edge of consciousness. Tommy squeezes his shoulder and Buck just wishes he'd run his fingers along his back again. Buck opens his mouth to complain, but he stops short with a choked laugh when he notices what's happening on screen.

"Christ," he coughs out. "I wasn't expecting to see my parents in this movie."

Tommy laughs above him. "That WASP-y silence hits too close to home, huh?"

"Hey, you said it, not me." Buck says. He nuzzles at Tommy's belly and watches as the scene changes again. Tommy shifts under him, which for Tommy standards counts as restless. Buck doesn't want to commit the cardinal sin of asking him about it while the movie's still playing, but it turns out he doesn't have to wait.

"I always-" Tommy starts, a few minutes later. He clears his throat. A few too many awkward seconds pass.

"What's that?" Buck asks.

"I always..." Tommy sighs. "I wanted a family like this. They're loud and crazy, but they love each other. They have - in jokes, and they support each other, where it matters." Tommy's hand squeezes Buck's shoulder. "I really... I just always wondered what that was like."

Buck curls his hand around the dip in Tommy's waist, right above his hip. "Me too," he admits. "It - I know the way we grew up is, was different, but uh. Me too."

"Wonder what that says about us," Tommy says, and his tone is too bitter, too unkind, for Buck's liking, so he pulls himself up to sit and grabs one of Tommy's hands in both of his own.

"What that says to me," Buck starts, looking Tommy square in the eye, "is that two lonely kids survived a couple of fucked-up childhoods. And that they found each other, and- and things aren't so lonely, anymore."

Tommy's expression does something complicated, some dance Buck isn't yet privy to, but he knows what it lands on. It lands on that look he gets when he says things like how are you real and what am I gonna do with you. It's an expression that Buck kind of loves, but it also kind of breaks his heart all the same.

[<-<- part one] [<- part two] ~ ~ ~ [part four ->]

[weaselle]

do you realize what a skill it is to take a written order as a table server?

Like, go ahead have a friend say four sentences and you write it at the same time they're saying it and see if you don't stand there SO UNCOMFORTABLY for a very long minute after they're done, scribbling and asking them to repeat parts.

Plus there has to be so much translation and organization, and just.

so basically every server comes up with their own shorthand, their own little code, altho some restaurants do have the servers all use the same shorthand code

And you have to rework your code every restaurant you work at.

So like, if you order a large caesar salad, with light dressing, and chicken on the side with no croutons? i'ma write:

SA L c no crt Lt/D chx s

but the last "s" is gonna have a circle around it like it's inside an "o" because that's how i write "on the side" and it makes it stand out so i don't forget or confuse it and i like the way it kind of looks like a birdseye view of a side of something in a ramekin, like a little pictogram :)

Starting every salad order with the notation for Salad and writing the SA large and making "on side" a symbol lets me scan the ticket for specific info easily, which is also why the slash is between the "light" and the "dressing" -- i usually put a slash for dressing, (like, ranch dressing would be r/D and no dressing would be no/D) because the slash and big D makes them easy to pick out of a block of text and i want to be able to see all the dressings at once clearly with a casual visual sweep when i am, for example, picking up my salads and checking to make sure the right dressings are with the right salads (which you always have to do because salads is more complicated than you'd think and you're likely to catch a wrong dressing several times a night if you check for them before letting your table find out they did it wrong).

Now any of how i write that order might change depending on things. For example one place i worked had a couple chicken salads and the kitchen did the chicken for them, so when you put the ticket in the computer it was helpful for them if you put the chicken instructions before anything else about the salad. I got used to putting it that way on my written ticket as i took the order to help me have an easy time at the computer while i worked there, and stopped doing it in that order when i left that restaurant. But the order is often about helping you tell the computer what to print in the kitchen.

Which you have to be fast at. Most restaurants only have like two or three terminals that servers can use to put in orders, and there's often like 8 servers all trying to use them. So you can't sit there and delete the salad order and re-enter it to put the chicken first and then try to remember how to do the other things you need to do on every order you have, because your coworkers will all be pissed at you, as their collective 15 tables wait extra time for you to get your shit together on the terminal and their tips dwindle down by the minute. You gotta be able to put an order into a terminal like it's about to explode if you don't do it fast enough and let the next server hop on it while you hurry to pour the drinks you're already late bringing out.

There is no time to like stand in line for it, either. If it's in use you go do one of the fifty other things you're already late for, and sometimes that means you go take anther order from a different table. That's dicey, because if you're not careful you'll have tables next to each other getting their food in the opposite order they sat, and that's never great. Or gods forbid the terminal is in use a few times in a row that you try to use it, you'll wind up at a terminal putting in 5 tables at once, which makes things hell on the kitchen staff and takes forever to punch in, all while other servers anxiously wait for you to be done hoping the same thing doesn't happen to them

And it's always some weird confusing choose-your-own-adventure system of menus and screens on there. Like, all the dressings and sauces and toppings might be on one screen and it's a different screen than the one that you punch in the salad on, so you have to flip between them to order salads or whatever. Shit like that ... plus you have to learn a new one every restaurant; this one may work with a series of drop down options, that one may use, like, clickable folder tags around the edges of the screen to go from options list to options list.

I worked this one pizza place where the server terminals were some OLD bullshit and the pizza toppings were just numbers. That you had to memorize. So you could punch them in without doing a where's waldo marathon with the toppings cheat sheet. There were 37 toppings. 41 when i stopped working there, altho to put in Feta wasn't a topping number you had to go to the salad menu and select "add fetta" from there.

I still remember a lot of the topping numbers. Like, if you ordered a large, extra cheese, salami, mushroom, pepperoni, olive and sausage pizza, it would be a

Lg xtr 1, 9, 8, 4, 7, 11

(that's the exact order the pizza guys will put them on the pizza btw, which helps them not miss a topping accidentally -- there's a logic to the order things go on a pizza, and if you write it all out of order it makes it real hard on the pizza makers to keep track of it while they're making it. I think some computer systems now auto-reorder toppings with they print them to the pizza section which is nice, but we used to try to do that for them as servers) I've used some of those numbers ever since. Cheese in particular permanently became "1" on my tickets, because i was already used to it and it's so much quicker than "chz" to write.

Of course the ticket layout is important -- I write the orders for the table as top to bottom = left to right. This means even if the person in the middle insists on ordering first, i write their order halfway down the space. Uh, i mean the top Line is for table number and number of people, and the the top Space is for drinks, and then the next forth of the ticket is for apps, and then the next space is for entrees, and then the last space is for any desserts, add ons, notes, or extras.

So if i say "shall we start with you" to my left but the person straight ahead of me orders their salad first anyway, i'm still writing their salad halfway down the "apps space" near the top of my ticket. Sometimes you have to bring your own note pad, in which case, depending on the vibe of the place, i often try to steal printer paper from the tiny little manager office crammed into some kitchen closet like every restaurant has, and cut their office paper into strips to use, because fuck making me buy my own paper to do this job.

Anyway, if you write your little code in the wrong order on the ticket, it makes it harder to punch it in the terminal quickly, so if I do get it in the wrong order, i do like a little swoopy line from it to the correct position. Say someone waits until everyone is done ordering and then says "oh can i have my chicken on the side of my salad" I have to write "chx os" at the end of the salad notation, but i would do a line like a big parenthesis on its back underneath the salad order, connecting "chx os" to the place i would have preferred to write it.

This way, after taking some dirty dishes from the dining room to the dish pit, checking with the kitchen about my other tables while i'm back there, pouring a drink order because other servers are using both terminals, and checking in with the salad section for a table that's getting impatient... when you're finally at a free terminal entering the order, these lines and you don't type the salad instructions in, get to the end, and have to delete it and type it back in with "chicken on the side" in the right place.

I actually don't know how many other servers use these sort of lines or item order, like i said, every server has to come up with their own code. Me, I draw lines to edit. This kind of thing makes my tickets often turn out with quite a few circles and lines and squiggles and stuff, which all indicate specific things But ideally not, ideally i get it written without all the extra drawing

So as a server, it's easiest to try make sure you can write everything down in the order you use at the computer so you wait til they say the whole thing. Or at least, because it is how your personal code works vs. all the ways people say the things they order, you often let the guest get the whole salad order out before you start to put it on your ticket.

And then you write it in your secret code while listening to their entree order. Which you might write in your little cypher while someone else is telling you their salad order. :)

However you do it, you have to do it all at the speed of speech, which is pretty damn fast.

Anyway, it's just a thing servers do, that i never really see talked about much. We all have our little codes we use to write your orders. And it takes a fair amount of skill.

[osakanone]

I read and agree with 95% of your post.

Prefacing: You're great. You are wonderful, I am now following your very good posts and I am a ball of weird neurotic energy that has to get this off my chest.

Why?

TheHorrors™ as of late have made me need to explain this like five times in four days.

Writing it like this means we can discuss it, i can link a post and people who need to see it can see it and I can get on with my life instead of having a redundant talk.

I might add citations pictures, etc etc later but I've already spent 45 minutes writing and re-writing this and I need to get this out of my system.

Once again, you're great and the fustration inside the response is not directed at you but at the issue itself.

You? Wonderful. Glorious poster. Evil baby. Delightful. Much love. Excellent Blorbo choices.

Issue? Shitty. Fills me with outrage. Paradoxical. MurderDeathKill.

Okay? Okay: rant begin:

The problem is "atomized individualism"...

1) Has a really well known and distorted meaning in libertarian circles you're probably unaware of which says "we're very rational and we never get emotional, and if I've got mine fuck you" coming from John Locke who quietly leaves out the "equality" part. 2) Actually self-defeating and paradoxical (I'll explain this)

Atomism claims everybody is

self-interested, self-sufficient and that altruism (being nice for the sake of being nice) is purely performative -- and that in functinal applied practice, asking for help or having systems to fall back on is inherently not-ok because you're not being the platonic ideal of the atomism (this is actually how familial orders emerge, instead of socialized safety-nets).

The fine text is also supposed to state that every member is equal which kind of contradicts the idea that the individual is pushed first; if you have more resources than others, your ability to execute on your individuality is inherently unequal.

It boils down to "the individual" vs "every individual" which gets very very messy.

It should mean freedom from bad things (over-exposure, abuse, starvation, etc, etc) not freedom to do bad things -- but this is where things start to get dicey.

Individualism claims the individual is the primary source of all value, and that the individual is always rational -- with the applied caviat that if anybody is acting irrationally, they lose their individuality.

You're gonna see a lot of applied caviats. Things which sound good on paper, but play out in really really messy ways in real people as side-effects of value-systems which then become the main goals of said systems when they benefit the people upholding those systems.

Combining atomization and individualism, you get...

"I am entirely rational, I am the only source of value, I am self-sufficient, and I am concerned with myself, and anybody who disagrees with me is irrational, because I am rationality defined"

So to go over the freedom part again:

This plays out as...

"uhhh yeah its a philosophy that means its good for me to not pay my taxes, because taxes are evil because they hurt me personally and specifically as an individual by subtracting my explicit capacity to execute on my self-interest (eg, get thing)"

This the mentality of your Peter Thiels, your Elon Musks, and your Donald Trumps. People who only see the "the divine right of kings" as wrong because they themselves are not the kings.

Wait, this is a lot, how did we get to this???

Their definitions ignore that most social definitions and benefits come from implicit attitudes and behaviors we do unconsciously (since humans spend most of their time running in a kind of autopilot called automaticity).

We learn this implicit automaticity from being raised, cared for, socialized, taught, and forgiven. They are hard to measure with a utility function mathematically, because they're hazy and vague and are often the root of interpretations of words (as we've experienced here, with this very thread).

Explicit attitudes are those which happen at the conscious or aware level: Its when you know you have to do something, or you haven't engrained something so you do it performatively out loud. This is significantly easier to measure with a utility function and is a huge part of how the legal system functions, and why the legal system assumes all actors (people) are rational.

Spoilers: All "rational" decision-making neurologically speaking originates from urges and feelings, and is then packaged and organized into "rationality".

Nobody human is rational; there are only rationalizers. Anybody who claims to be rational and calls anybody else emotional is both lying and projecting. If nobody felt anything, nobody would do anything: That's what depression is, even high functioning depression.

Going further, communication and implicit attitude learning and how explicit attitudes become implicit attitudes is the human skill.

Its why its inherently nonsensical to try and atomize us from eachother. We are all disturbingly susceptible to propaganda.

It isn't our tool-use (corvids molluscs, diatoms and arachnids have us beat there up until the last 80 to 15,000 years when we did metal properly afaik) -- its not our intelligence or short-term-memory (primates have us beat there, as genius level counters, strategizers and selectors): Its communication and sharing out strategies.

This is what we mean when we call humans "social organisms".

Seperating individuals truly leads to brain damage, which we see in those who undergo extended solitary isolation -- and likewise those who are placed into extended sensory deprivation such as white-room torture.

So, returning to our point:

What actually happens to our self-interested agents?

They refuse to concede that they can be irrational (which they scientifically and verifiably are: we are all irrational most of the time running on habit and memory, not pure decision making).

Result?

Self-interested agents who will not concede always compete -- whether towards singular or group-goals, and as resources collapse the group goals become singular goals.

Why?

Conceding that you are capable of irrationality and understanding what this means and the consequences and trusting that you can feel safe doing this requires emotional insight.

To develop emotional insight, you need to be a skilled communicator or have had excellent social training either through direct social contact or secondary social contact (social and cognitive stimulus creating cognitive simulations, aka media you consume).

The venn diagram of properties producing ultra-competitors is...

Dysthymia (being unable to create enjoyment or satisfaction without external validation, such as scoring, numbers or from another perosn)

An insecure/avoidant attachment style (eg, you depend on the numbers system because forming trust is compromised for whatever reason)

This produces an arms-race of ultra-competitors all trying to maximize whatever society sees as the most valuable (eg, money) -- who quickly figure out that the optimal strategy is to limit the number of competitors they have.

They do this by tricking the other members into playing "other games" or to collect "other things" as a distraction to sate them while improving how well they achieve their own goals.

These are your time vampires like the internet, your endless merchandising of ownership/consumer status, your religions to sate existential status needs, your abusive families playing for membership approval status needs, etc.

Rant End.

Okay, so now what?

So I agree with 95% of what you're saying, and I'm a pedantic bitch basically.

I love betraying nation and bloodline. I love rejecting the social order. I love being able to pursue my own goals even when the world around me wants me to adopt theirs instead. I love blasphemy and queerness and getting to choose who my family is.

I love this.

Everything you want is good, but atomized individualism is not the descriptor for those things because pure atomized individual reinvents the problems it seeks to solve for the individual by externalizing them to maximize its own returns.

Its why libertarians always create government again, but with extra steps where they are the leaders, which is apparently fine for some reason.

"I love atomized individualism" is not a statement you can make in a void, especially given current events.

What you mean is

"I love equitable atomacized indivividualism"

And by adding just one word that clarifies your statement and nullifies so many MANY problems, I 100% agree with you.

Okay got that out of my system.

Phew.

May your self-loving-vampire and may all of your self-loving be glorious and your Kohaku pleantiful.

Take care! :3

I love atomized individualism. I love betraying nation and bloodline. I love rejecting the social order. I love being able to pursue my own goals even when the world around me wants me to adopt theirs instead. I love blasphemy and queerness and getting to choose who my family is.

[yaoireview]

review sockathan ! 👻👻👻

woah how'd you make that green

SOCKATHAN YAOI REVIEW

Disclaimer: This will contain spoilers (kind of) for Welcome to Hell 2 Part 1 and Welcome to Hell. You should probably go watch that. Its made by Erica Wester and its PRETTY cool.)

My Yaoi Entrepreneurs, I'll be blunt with you. I know we've ALL seen gay people, maybe in the streets, maybe at the park. You might even see one in your home now, so lets be honest with ourselves. Sock is DEFINITELY gay, bisexual at LEAST.

The OTHER one on the other hand.. its a little bit harder to say.. I'll probably find something though..

Lets make one thing clear, when I say Yaoi in this review. I don't mean ANYTHING inappropriate. Its just my special way of saying gay people.. I'm kinda magical in that sense.

Lets just get the first one done and over with a simple section I like to call:

EVIDENCE 1: SOCK IN GENERAL

okay so FIRST of all the FIRST time we see sock, they call Jonathan "hot stuff" while being in a fridge. I'm not sure about you but that's love if I ever saw it.

After that they introduce you to Sock killing his parents. One key point after another. If Sock being gay wasn't important, then WHY was it shown BEFORE telling us Sock's (other) main trait. Checkmate liberals.

Sock would then get the report from Mephistopheles, and you COULD say its just because the camera zoomed in, but its literally the most light ever seen in Sock's eyes.

And then Sock went on to ruin Jonathan's day, making him look crazy, and Jonathan SOMEHOW got blamed for knocking down that desk, I swear I think the teachers just hate him. I'm not sure about you but I certainly cant KNOCK over a desk thats right next to me.

He was WRITING too.. would a guilty man of desk flipping WRITE?? NO!!

And not to mention that Sock made Jonathan look DUMB in front of the faceless brothers which was probably the closest time that Sock did their job right.

Sock absolutely ruined it today.. but can you blame them? They're new to the job, give them some SLACK.

But the upcoming days, Sock was so whimsical.

Yeah SURE. Sock is still telling Jonathan to kill himself, but they just don't want to get fired!!

Not to mention the fact that they stared at Jonathan while they were taking a piss, but there's nothing odd about that.

And also near the end, Mephistopheles calls sock out on liking the guy, and Sock stutters. You just have to take my word for it.

SOCK IN GENERAL 2 [PART 1]

If you saw Welcome to Hell 2 [Part 1], you already know what I'm gonna comment about. Sock went on to call Jonathan's mother, hot. They then went on to say "Must be where you got it from, huh? You definitely got her butt at least."

When Jonathan goes on a walk and Sock follows them and says after Jonathan says he doesn't wanna be friends with them. (We'll get back to that)

"Oh wow, come to think of it, You don't really have ANYONE do YOU? What's that feel like? Knowing you're gonna die alone." to which Jonathan snaps back with "I dunno Sock, you tell me."

Now at first, this looks like a scene of ANTI SOCKATHAN propaganda, but think with me here, yaoiers. How would Jonathan know that Sock died alone??

I understand if he just guessed, since sock DOES look like someone who would die alone, or he just said whatever comeback that came to his head but if not, Sock ALREADY told Jonathan about their past life.

If what I KNOW is true, Sock VENTED to Jonathan about their life before they died in LESS than a week, since Sock just now sees Jonathan's mother in the first part, and due to a comment made by the creator.

Sock REALLY trusts this guy, maybe Mephistopheles didn't want to hear them vent, but maybe its JUST because Sock wanted Jonathan to do the same. but they probably didn't.

And then near the end, Sock says to Jonathan when he snatched his employee manual

"Jonathan, if something happens to you-"

Actually, I think this is pretty weak evidence but I thought I'd include it, since a teacher would say the same thing if a kindergartener was up on a high shelf.

That segment was PRETTY lengthy, but I PROMISE you, the others will be shorter, I just.. didn't expect there to be so much for Sock...

EVIDENCE 2: SOCK SUCKS AT THEIR JOB.

Jonathan was DEAD ON when they told Sock that they suck at their job. And quite honestly.. I could've done it better.. I could've got Jonathan to kill himself (theoretically) on the FIRST day, and if you wouldn't use my strategy, I promise you that there's probably several other you could use for the teenager that you want them to kill themselves at home.

STEP 1: GRAB A WEAPON

Since Sock is seen to be able to flip over a desk and they're able to HOLD Jonathan's journal (Shock or not), I should THEORITCALLY be able to grab a weapon, now for this strategy, I suggest you pick a nonlethal option, only to have a lethal option around, for this example, I will be using a sledgehammer.

After swinging that at the noggin, Jonathan would drop unconscious, probably with brain damage (that don't matter though)

STEP 2: POSSESS THE TEENAGER

Now it MAY not be like this in w2h, but Mephistopheles was able to possess Jonathan when he was DEAD (Probably), so It should hopefully work when they're out of consciousness.

STEP 3: KILL YOURSELF.

Alright now I KNOW that sounds bad.. but it wouldn't be MY hands to kill him. Grab the nearby lethal and SHOOT. THAT. TEENAGER!! Your boss may not agree with the logistics of this, but you get the job done.

This simulation was to PROVE that Sock atleast CARES a bit about Jonathan to want to get to know him. and to not kill him on the spot. Now if It was the other way around.. I'm not exactly sure..

EVIDENCE 3: JONATHAN KINDA HATES SOCK

(he looks like hes standing up to a school bully)

At the beginning of Welcome to Hell, hes clearly annoyed and STILL is annoyed by some of Sock's actions by the end, but he atleast isn't mad enough to NOT act like he could put up with Sock. I think the closest thing to gayness from Jonathan was when he moved the backpack for Sock to sit down.

In Welcome to Hell 2, he IS PISSED at this guy, and honestly, if Sock kept on knocking down those desks, i CANT blame him..

Maybe Sock kinda ruined the vibe when they expressed their love for Jonathan's mother, its hard to say really..

Jonathan makes this very clear that he DOESN'T even wanna be Sock's friend, I mean HAVE YOU HEARD THE THEME SONG?

SUMMARY:

Sock wasn't able to win Jonathan's heart, making him tonight's biggest loser.

YAOI: 6.5/10

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep7 Musings - Sam Reid’s Autumn Brown Interview (Pt2) S3 Akasha, the Drop, & Amel

Ok, returning to the whole "Blame Amel For Lestat's Abusive Behavior."

Sam referred to something VERY important that I think people overlooked in his segment on the Ep5 revisit; they heard the Akasha bit and just ran with it. But this is exactly what he said:

[SR] Loustat "had the potential to have something very beautiful, but [Lestat's] too messy and chaotic, and Louis and Lestat are also...the beauty of their violence and hatred together, their dynamic...you know.... [AB] It's the best! They have exactly what each other needs. But also everything that makes both of them the worst parts of themselves and the best parts of themselves. [SR] And I think that's kind of cool, when we revisit that scene from Episode 5 in Season 1. And you see that in the in the Trial. I think there's something really wildly beautiful, between the two of them, in that violence. Because Louis is unhinged and angry at Lestat, and I think Lestat is more obviously--he's way more powerful, and his act of violence is, you know, like unforgivable. [SR] But there's this space that private space that they have in the coffin room...how much they hate each other...that's how much Louis hates him, and that's how much Lestat is...hurt, and then turns into this violent, angry, I hate you!.... They have that much hate. They also have that much love; because they're also vampires, and so they operate on like a level of like-- [AB] Emotion that's dialed up to-- [SR] Pure chaos! They're operating on that level, and then Lestat drops him from the sky, and it is an irredeemable event in their relationship. It cannot come back from that. And it creates this kind of cascade in a set of events, that leads to Lestat being killed. And I think that's part of our adaptation. It's not necessarily the the real events Anne Rice's books, but this is what is in our adaptation. And I think it does feed into that overall sentiment that Lestat acknowledges his evil, hellish self-loathing self...that is there; and we obviously heighten things and make it bigger. [AB] In Season 1 you know that there's something else going on, on the other side of the wall; because you can hear the fight dies down. There's a break, and you think it's over, and suddenly starts back up again. And we have this moment of Lestat taking Louis into the sky. We finally get to see what that moment was. And Louis is chilling--oh my god that little laugh that he does! He's like I'm gonna cut your head off! I'm gonna feed it to the lions and I'm gonna laugh about it! I mean, do you think for Lestat in that moment...? Cuz what leads to Louis saying that is Lestat asking Are you going to leave me? Had Louis just said: Yeah! and walked out the door and left with Claudia, would that have led to the explosion? Was it the act of him leaving, or was it the words that instigated that level of vitriol? [SR] Uhhh....I don't know about that. And I don't know if it's worth speculating what would have happened if that didn't happen.

--MURF INTERJECTION-- Thank GOD Sam shut that ish down, omfg. Again: STOP tryna find ways to victim blame Louis for what went down or say he "instigated" the fight! 🤬 It doesn't frikkin MATTER what Louis said or didn't say. All that matters is what happened TO Louis, and TO Claudia, that was what got Lestat "killed."

[SR] But I think more importantly is that--and this is something that I've felt has been really important about playing Lestat from the beginning, and probably something that people find probably a little bit confronting--but for me, for Queen of the Damned to work, Lestat has to have a level of toxic male rage in him, so that when he is angry, and when he's violent, it has to be a toxic masculine rage for Akasha to follow through with the events that she does. And why she says: You are everything about masculinity that's wrong and terrible. And so that's why you're going to be my right-hand guy, and you're going to help me kill them all. And I think...I always felt like, when he does have those spurts of anger, it does have to come from a very toxic place. [SR] Where we're going, when we're looking at it, obviously there's a scene back in Season 1: he's had a drink of this, like, fountain that nobody knows he's had. Nobody knows. No one in the show. Nobody knows. The only person who knows is Lestat. And most of the people watching the show don't know this, at this point in time. [AB] There's just that one little throwaway line about Those Who Must Be Kept, and then nothing else. [SR] And originally in Season 1, when they're in the sky and they're having that moment, Lestat was originally scripted to tell Louis about The Sacred Fount! In that moment, Lestat actually tells Louis about what he has inside of him; what, who he's drunk from. I'm trying to be really vague for anyone who's watching this, and has no idea, and I'm not going to give anything away! But anyone who does know, will know. But originally it's that he's up in the sky. [SR] And I think that is the parallel line that we're drawing with. That level of rage that Lestat has. That toxic abusive rage is also coming from an extreme monstrous power, coming from this intense monster that he has, and he has no idea how to control; he's trying to repress it all the time. But he knows, if he can, if somebody just ticks him off a bit.... He's a volatile guy already, but he's got this thing in that makes him go: AAH! [AB] It's almost going back to that element of vanity that you're were talking about: being like, you would do this to ME?! You don't even KNOW what I have within me! [SR] Yeah, exactly! So that also means that we can feed that shame and shock into his monstrous self--and acknowledgement OF his monstrous self--into his progressive spiral, into where we're going. (34:10 - 40:59)

So. All of this stuff about Akasha (& Amel) needs to be recontextualized, cuz what Sam said is that "ORIGINALLY" the 1x5 script had Lestat threaten Louis with the warning: I'm trying to restrain the monstrous thing in me that makes me go AAH; you don't even KNOW what I have in me, AAH!

But guess what else happened? OBVIOUSLY, THEY TOTALLY TOSSED THAT ISH OUT OF THE SCRIPT, in S1 AND in the S2 revisit. 😂🤣 The time to have teased/suggested that there was something controlling Lestat that made him "accidentally" hurt Louis came & went in BOTH seasons, so arse-pulling Amel so late into the show after we already got Lestat's admission during the Trial looks goofy AF.

Cuz possession is a lazy abuse apologia COP OUT. Having "It was Amel's fault all along" would've directly contradicted AND undermined their whole point about PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY that they clearly wanted to get across MORE than using spirit possession as a crutch to explain/excuse Lestat's abusive behavior.

Possession would imply too many things, distracting from the overall thrust of Rolin's vision for telling a very real & very "aggressive, toxic, beautiful love story" about the ways soulmates find their way back to each other after hurting each other over & over.

Esp. since Hannah Moscovich (Ep5's writer) has already been VERY clear about her take on Lestat's capacity for "evil." She mentions his bad actions in TotBT, when Lestat was HUMAN again--he wasn't even in his own vampiric body (attached to Amel/Akasha's blood), and he was STILL doing effed up things! So his issues have nothing to do with spirit possession.

[SR] "it does feed into that overall sentiment that Lestat acknowledges his evil, hellish self-loathing self...that is there; and we obviously heighten things and make it bigger."

(Funny, when Sam something it's flowers & praise; but when Hannah says the same thing it's boos & hisses from the exact same fans, lol.)

Vampirism EXACERBATES & INTENSIFIES aspects of ALL people's character/nature that was ALREADY there; "all feels amplified." Cuz ALL vampires have Amel's spirit in them, NOT just Lestat. ALL of them are powered by his monstrous spirit, and ALL of them are capable of heinous sadistic bloodlust & inhuman acts of violence--look at Claudia's 56 Floaters & Santiago at the Chateau & Armand chasing Malik (& book!Daniel) for the lolz; and how hard Louis tries to FIGHT succumbing to those same impulses too. (Nebamun/Gregory & Teskhamen drank Akasha/Amel's blood. Marius & Pandora & Bianca drank her blood. Sweet baby Khayman drank her blood. Her son Seth drank her blood. Even Big Bad Rhoshamandes drank her blood, and as twisted as he is, even HE was like naaah this heifer's crazy, I'm outta here. Plenty of vamps drank from the Sacred Fountain, and aren't half as crazy & abusive & evil as the vampires that DIDN'T: Magnus, Santiago, Santino, Bruce/Killer, etc.) So the (weak) argument that Amel/Akasha's blood alone is what drives vamps to go totally effing ballistic on their significant others whenever they get mad is patently false, by the book AND the show's own logic.

So I'm glad they got rid of those lines, and just had Les say EXACTLY why he "fought myself a million times; fought my nature, controlled my temper!" and got mad enough to beat the breaks off Lou:

It's INSECURITY--not that Les can't control the monster in him (though ofc that's a VERY legit fear, his struggles with his temper & anger issues); it's that he can't control his family; his husband & child; and can't even "force Louis to love me;" esp. cuz despite all the Dark Gifts he has, he CAN'T read Louis' mind or manipulate his thoughts the way he could back when Lou was still human.

Cuz what Lestat DOES have from Amel/Akasha is direct access to more raw POWER & more Dark Gifts than the average vampire his age. He got her blood straight from the source, not diluted across vampiric generations. Those Gifts are why his rage so dangerous--his ability to overpower weaker vamps & fly them up in the air to drop them & set Millennial Fledglings on fire just for irritating him, etc. Esp. cuz we know "he's a volatile guy already;" he's got patented anger issues up the wazoo ("I am cursed with my father's temper; I am burdened with my Maker's temper").

ALSO, why would Amel have possessed Les to do something so counter-productive to his Chosen One's survival as almost winding up in the incinerator right next to Antoinette? By that logic, we'd have to say that Louis chokeslammed Claudia cuz HE was possessed by Amel too! That entirely strips away precisely what Sam said: how much Loustat LOVES each other drives them to unhinged levels of violence AGAINST each other, AND ultimately Claudia, as they each fear she'll take them away from each other (to Europe/the incinerator).

Hence why AMC hasn't laid ANY breadcrumbs indicating that Lestat was "possessed" by anything--just plain ole oppressive patriarchal toxic masculinity, just like I've been saying all along:

Cuz that machismo's what draws Magnus to Les in TVL & Akasha to Les in QotD; and that "vanity" is what draws Raglan James to Les in TotBT, and that sin/guilt/shame/self-loathing is what draws Memnoch to Les in MtD. In every book until Merrick, Lestat proves the villain right, before he finally realizes how bad he's messed up AGAIN, and course corrects to try proving them WRONG about him.

But Lestat's character development is a marathon, not a sprint; so it's not until Blackwood Farm that Lestat finally simmers TF down, and it's not till the PL Trilogy that his redemption arc really shines best. In PLatRoA, Louis proposes to Lestat WITH AMEL STILL IN HIM, as the Sacred Core directly communicating with Lestat, with the greatest chance to ACTUALLY take over Les if he wanted to! Louis is arguably the MOST concerned about Amel staying posted up in Lestat & possibly taking over him, so sure, I CAN see AMC leaning into the fear that Lestat's underestimating the chance of being spiritually possessed; esp. when compared with Akasha & Rhoshamandes. But that's also what SEPARATES Lestat from those 2, cuz he IS different; he IS special--to Amel. Cuz Les has a massive capacity to LOVE; he LISTENS, and treats Amel like a FRIEND, a PERSON, not a monster. And Lestat was SAD when Kapetria darn near kidnapped him & forced the surgical operation that finally separated Amel from him--cuz Lestat's ALWAYS carried that fear of abandonment in him.

Cuz it's not about Amel at all: it's about the HUMAN SOUL in each & every vampire; at the core of Gothic lit as a genre.

Cuz vampires ARE monsters, but the whole point of TVC is how they all learn how to be BETTER monsters/people; and NOT act like "barbarians" & wild animals--hence: Lestat's Vampire Court in the Chateau Era at the end of the franchise. Hence: Lestat finally becoming WORTHY of Louis' love.

So if AMC succumbs to pressure from the Lestans and retcons S1 & S2 to blame it all on Amel, Imma call that weak ish out on the spot.

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 11 ✧˚₊‧

"Happy Halloween!!" Sarah and Suguru shouted, slamming Satoru's dorm room open on a crisp and beautiful Halloween morning.

"S'not evenmm--" he mumbled, barely opening one eye to look at the clock, "Sun's'not evn up yet..."

"That's 'cos we got stuff to do!" Sarah said, appearing right in his face and making him jump back, "C'mon sleepyhead! We gotta get ready!"

He yawned, slamming his face back into his pillow and stretching his legs out. He flexed his toes, the whole bed shaking as he let out that very necessary groan we all have to do when you get a really good stretch going.

"Are we going somewhere or something?" He mumbled, sitting up and letting his head rest on the headboard.

"We're gonna go find Himuro Manor!" Sarah reminded him, "It doesn't have an exact location so we'll have to just look around."

"Oh, right," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his finger tips, "The Fatal Frame house... So it was real?"

"It's already become real through a curse," Suguru said with a shrug, "I'm sure we can find it if we follow the legends about it."

"And if we don't, then we'll just spend the whole day and night in the woods having so much fun," Satoru said sarcastically, reaching into his drawer for a clean shirt.

Sarah automatically faced away as he started to change, sitting on the end of the bed, "But if we actually find it, we can play like ghost hunters!"

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Satoru said with a roll of his eyes, "It's not ghosts. Just curses."

"Pfff," Sarah rolled her eyes with just as much sass, "Curses and ghosts are the same thing."

"Curses can kill you, a ghost isn't real and so it can't," he said with a sneer, "Two different things."

"Okay well let's just pretend they're ghosts then," Sarah huffed, "Be cool, Glacier Freeze."

Suguru stepped in between before they started to really get worked up. He grabbed both of them by the collars of their shirts and pulled them along with a shake of his head. "Too early for sass," he said, "Let's go. We have a drive ahead."

The day before they'd already prepped everything they might need for a long adventure in the woods. Everything vital like snacks and soda and a couple flashlights, all the important stuff of course. Convincing a manager in training to drive them there was the most difficult part, really. They had to offer to cover for him on three nights coming up, around Christmas time of course, but the price was easily worth it.

"What's so special about this place anyway?" Satoru asked with a heavy sigh, buckling into his seat a half hour later, "I barely remember that game. The second one was way better, yeah?"

"It was," Sarah agreed, "But this one was set in just the mansion so it was probably easier for the collective consciousness to make."

"Well maybe nostalgia for the second one will manifest a real village someday," Suguru said with a shrug, "We are lucky we could make this happen at all. Normally they don't let the first years do investigations."

"What did you tell Yaga?" Shoko asked, "How did you convince him?"

"I just asked," Suguru said with a shrug, but a certain twinkle in his eye told Shoko it was better not to ask right then. She raised her brows and simply continued with, "So are we just playing around or are we actually going to exorcise it?"

"Fun first, kill it after," Satoru said, adjusting his shirt while he slouched down, "We can play around in the spooky house for a bit and then take out the curse when we're done."

"Does this count as my first mission?!" Sarah said excitedly and Satoru patted her head. She swatted at his hand and he grinned at her.

"Don't worry, I'll keep my cute little underclassman safe," he teased then smirked as she slapped at the infinity between them when he kept her flying fists away.

"When we find a ghost imma make it haunt you!" She huffed, and he cackled as he leaned back in his seat.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The old manor loomed before them, nearly swallowed by the encroaching woods. Its darkened wood, once richly brown and varnished, had faded to a splotchy gray-black under years of relentless weather. In some places, ivy and twisting vines crawled up its walls, disappearing into crevices and windows like nature’s attempt to reclaim it entirely. Trees grew so close to the structure that their branches scratched against the eaves with the barest breeze, their roots winding thickly around the foundation like the gnarled fingers of some ancient guardian.

The air around them felt strangely thick, muted as if wrapped in a damp, musty blanket. The forest at night was utterly still, almost unnaturally so. Not a single cricket chirped; not a single leaf rustled. It was as though every living creature, from the tiniest bug to the tallest tree, held its breath, wary of breaking the heavy silence that blanketed the woods. Even the wind dared not disturb the silence, making the night feel like a quiet void around the old manor.

As Shoko, Suguru, Satoru, and Sarah approached the crooked steps leading to the main entrance, the floorboards creaked ominously beneath their feet. Each step groaned in protest, some splintered and fraying at the edges, threatening to snap under their weight. The smell of rot and damp wood mixed with the faint, lingering scent of old incense, as if the place still clung to memories of its past.

When they finally reached the heavy front door, Satoru pushed it open with a slight shove. It dragged against the floor with a low, tortured groan. As they stepped inside, a sudden chill cut through the air. It was colder than it had any right to be, a biting sort of cold that sank right to the bones and carried with it the unmistakable, thick scent of dust and decay. Everything felt heavy, untouched for decades, as if a single breath might disturb the dust hanging in the air.

"So uh..." Shoko whispered, reaching for her flashlight in her bag, "What was the haunting caused by in that game?"

"Oh, well they used to do a strangling ritual here," Sarah explained, walking up to look at a wall scroll that nature was melting slowly, "It was to keep the darkness trapped in this big spooky well."

"The malic I think it was called," Suguru added, then sighed, "And all of the ghosts had died to the curse, didn't they?"

"Not a curse!" Sarah said, pointing at him, "Ghosts! It was ghosts that got them and made more ghosts!"

"Right," Satoru grunted as he squatted down to pull more flashlights out of his bag, "So let's play along, right? We can play like the game and take a bunch of weird photos!"

"Did you bring a camera?" Sarah asked.

"Phone?" Satoru said sheepishly.

"That's not the same," Sarah sighed, "It was specifically the Camera Obscura that could catch the ghosts." Then she suddenly froze, gripping Suguru's sleeve, "Oh! We could just try to find it right?! Maybe it's just in here!"

"It's not gonna be exactly like the game," Satoru scoffed, "You shouldn't get your hopes up."

"Watch this though..." She said, walking down the hallway. She called back, "If I'm right then... The camera should be..."

She screamed as the shadowy figure of a man passed in front of her. She would have fallen back on her ass if Suguru and Satoru hadn't rushed up behind her, ready to fight.

"What?!" Satoru looked left and right down the corridor, "What was it?!"

"It was a ghost!" She stammered, "One of the people killed by the darkness!"

"Oh my god," Satoru groaned, "No it wasn't, shut up."

"It was!!" She insisted, staggering to her feet, "I swear it was!"

"So where's the camera then?" Shoko asked, looking down the hall.

Sarah pushed a broken screen aside and practically threw herself back pointing at the camera on the ground. Satoru and Suguru both narrowed their eyes, rushing over to squat down and look at it. "There's no way..." Suguru muttered, reaching out to take it. Satoru stopped him, then grinned.

"Nah, wait, let's play along," Satoru said, looking over his shoulder to Sarah, "Right?!"

"Yes!" Sarah scrambled over, picking up the camera, "Absolutely yes! Let's go! Right now!"

"Do you two remember the story?" Suguru asked, "I don't know if I do after so long."

"I... Don't." Satoru admitted, watching Sarah fiddle with the camera, "I think the character was a girl who lost her brother, right? He was researching the haunting here or something?"

"Yeah," Sarah nodded when she looked up from the camera, "And then he got killed by the ghost in the fireplace room and his sister came to check on him."

"So let me just make sure I heard that right," Shoko sighed, "We need to take pictures of the ghosts to exorcise them? Is that how this game works?"

"Yeah! The camera steals their souls and stuff and--"

"Okay," Shoko cut her off, "Alright, fine. Let's just go get this over with."

"Oh?" Satoru grinned, leaning with his arm on Shoko's shoulder, "You scared?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, but I don't really think this is the best place for Sarah and I. These ghosts are dangerous--"

"Curses," Satoru corrected her and she huffed before he continued, "And you have Suguru and I here! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Of course," Suguru agreed, "Nothing will happen to either of you."

"But what if we get separated?" Shoko asked, "That kind of thing always happens in these kinds of games."

"Pfft," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, "Don't be ridiculous. How could we get separated? It's just one building, we can't get lost in such a small place."

The manor had a way of pulling them apart, as if its very walls shifted to separate the four friends. Shoko and Sarah ended up on the far side of the house, where they stumbled into a dilapidated kitchen. A low, flickering light barely illuminated the room through grimy windows, casting shadows that seemed to twist and move on their own. The air was thick with the sour smell of mildew and something metallic—rust, perhaps, or the faint stain of old blood long dried. Every surface was coated with a thin layer of dust, untouched but for the occasional smear where something unseen had disturbed it.

Shoko moved carefully, eyes narrowing as she scanned the dark corners. "We should have brought something sharp," she muttered, annoyance crossing her face as she dug through drawers filled with cracked wooden spoons and broken bits of porcelain. A glint of metal caught her eye, and she pulled out a tarnished butcher knife, testing its weight in her hand. "Better than nothing, I guess."

Sarah kept her distance, glancing around nervously. “Anything about this place actually seem like it belongs in a kitchen?” she asked, eyeing the blackened stove and mold-ridden walls.

Shoko shrugged, her attention still on the drawers. "It’s probably been cursed for so long, it doesn’t know what it is anymore."

Meanwhile, Suguru wandered down a series of narrow, winding corridors, the wood creaking beneath his every step. Here, the walls seemed to close in tighter, bending and warping in places, as if they were alive and breathing around him. A faint, translucent figure flitted past, its face half-formed, looking as though it might disappear entirely if Suguru blinked too hard.

He chuckled softly to himself. "So, are you all separate spirits, or is this one big curse controlling everything?" he wondered aloud, as if expecting the house to answer. It was hard to tell in such a place, where curses lingered in every shadow, in every draft of cold air that seemed to sweep through the hall with a sigh. He felt a pull toward each apparition he passed, his curiosity ignited as he tried to sense if they were fragments of one larger entity or isolated curses.

Above them all, Satoru found himself standing alone in the cramped, cobweb-strewn attic. He'd somehow managed to hold onto the Camera Obscura. Now, if he could only figure out how to get the damn film in they could actually play the game

"Stupid thing," he muttered under his breath, squinting at the camera and attempting to load the film. His fingers fumbled with the film reel, the stubborn old device refusing to cooperate. He sighed, pressing harder than necessary, frustration building.

Behind him, a faint, icy whisper filled the air, the sound of creaking footsteps creeping closer. The temperature plummeted, and a ghastly, translucent figure loomed behind him, stretching a pale hand forward.

Without even glancing up, Satoru lifted one hand, releasing a sharp pulse of cursed energy that hit the ghost with a force that disintegrated it instantly. He went right back to struggling with the film, muttering, "Stupid old thing. Why is it always the oldest shit?"

Shoko and Sarah moved cautiously down the wooden hall, which felt endless, lined with crumbling walls blackened by age and water damage. Most of the paper screens had melted away, leaving jagged edges flapping in the occasional gust of cold air that seeped through cracks. It was as though the entire manor had been left to rot, assaulted by wind and rain until only the skeleton of its former grandeur remained. The air was thick and damp, and the boards creaked beneath their steps, echoing like whispers in the emptiness around them.

Sarah glanced at the ruined screens and recognized bits and pieces of the layout, but the decay made the space seem foreign and wrong. The house she remembered had not felt so terrifying on the TV and the real life version wasn't as easy to navigate as she hoped. They peeked into each room, nudging open the doors that could still slide, finding each space abandoned and stripped bare, only scraps of paper and tatami mats clinging to the floors.

Then, in a dark, shadowed corner of one room, something caught their eye—a small roll of film, resting atop a low table covered in a thick layer of dust. They both reached for it, excited by the unexpected find.

But before their hands could touch the film, a soft hissing rose from the floorboards. The shadows twisted and coalesced, rising up in a mass that took shape—a ghost with shriveled, hollow eyes and an agonized expression, its mouth frozen in a perpetual choke. It crawled upward, its skeletal hands stretching toward them, a hoarse wheeze escaping its lips as if it had been denied breath for centuries.

Shoko and Sarah screamed, stumbling back. Their voices carried through the empty halls, echoing in the dark spaces of the manor.

In an instant, both Satoru and Suguru heard them from their separate locations. Suguru took off at a sprint, his footsteps pounding through the halls, dodging splintered beams and ducking under fallen rafters. But Satoru opted for the most direct route. He blasted through the floorboards, one level down, then another, smashing his way through rotting wood and debris until he crashed into the room, scattering dust and splinters everywhere.

He raised his hand, a glint of cursed energy forming, ready to obliterate the spirit—but before he could release it, Sarah snatched the Camera Obscura from his grip. Her hands shook, but she moved quick, finally managing to load the film with one swift click.

She raised the camera, aimed it at the ghost, and pressed the shutter.

The camera’s flash went off, the room illuminated in a harsh burst of light. The ghost let out a bone-chilling shriek as it reared back, its form wavering and dissolving, until finally it disintegrated into nothing. The room returned to silence, the faint odor of charred wood and decay lingering in the air.

Satoru stared at the empty space where the ghost had been, wide-eyed, then glanced down at the Camera Obscura in Sarah's hands. Shoko, equally stunned, glanced between Sarah and the camera.

"Did that… actually work?" Shoko breathed, disbelief etched on her face.

Satoru blinked, then broke into a wide grin. "Guess we have a new ghostbuster on the team," he teased, nudging Sarah with his elbow.

Sarah, catching her breath, managed a shaky grin. "I knew it. We got this in the bag now!"

Suguru arrived just moments after the spirit vanished, skidding to a halt and glancing around the dust-laden room. Before he could ask, Sarah spun toward him, beaming as she held up the camera. "Geto! It worked!" she announced, almost bouncing on her heels.

Suguru chuckled, patting her head gently as she grinned up at him. "Nice job. That's really exciting," he said, warmth in his eyes.

Sarah and Shoko, energized by their victory, wandered over to the table littered with dusty rolls of film, muttering to each other excitedly as they examined their findings. Suguru took a moment to lean closer to Satoru, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “So,” he started, keeping his voice low, “any thoughts on what we’re actually dealing with here?”

Satoru gave a casual shrug, crossing his arms as he looked around the dark, decaying room. “From what I can see, it’s one curse," he said thoughtfully, "not multiple spirits or entities. But here’s what’s weird.” He leaned closer to Suguru, eyes glinting with intrigue. "When Sarah took that picture, it felt like the cursed energy didn’t just disappear—it dissolved. Like, I don’t know… cotton candy in water.”

Suguru smirked at the comparison, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Cotton candy, huh?”

“Hey, just telling it how I see it,” Satoru grinned. “But yeah, if that’s how it’s reacting to the camera, it should work to exorcise the curse completely. It’s like the energy is unraveling at the core. But,” he added, his tone a bit more serious, “if they actually end up in trouble, we’ll need to step in fast. The curse won't go down without a fight.”

Suguru nodded, the lightness in his gaze hardening with resolve. “Agreed. Let’s keep an eye on them, then—”

He cut off, turning back to where the girls had been standing, only to find empty space. He blinked, exasperated but amused. “Well, damn.”

Satoru snorted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Typical.”

Shoko realized they’d somehow ended up alone again, standing in what used to be a bedroom but now looked more like a crumbling nightmare. Shadows crept along the walls, and what remained of the tatami flooring creaked beneath their weight. Shoko let out a quiet sigh, muttering under her breath as she pulled out her knife, infusing it with cursed energy. The blade took on a faint glow, casting ghostly light in the dark room. She glanced at Sarah, who clutched the camera tightly, her fingers trembling slightly.

"Keep that camera ready, okay?" Shoko said, nudging her with a reassuring smile.

“Got it!” Sarah said, trying to sound steady, though Shoko could see her knuckles whitening around the camera. They made their way into the hall, stepping carefully around cracked wood and holes in the floor. Every so often, a faint figure would flicker into view—a blurry, shadowed ghost moving towards them. Each time, Sarah snapped a picture, and the figures dissipated with a faint wail, leaving only a heavy chill in the air. None of the ghosts seemed particularly aggressive, but Sarah’s excitement was palpable.

“So…where are we going, exactly?” Shoko asked, keeping her voice low.

“Well,” Sarah said, her eyes gleaming, “in the game, the first boss was this editor—used to work for some kind of paranormal magazine or something. His ghost haunts this house because he died from the curse.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “And how are we supposed to find him?”

“Uh, clues,” Sarah said, her voice trailing off as she scratched the back of her head. “You know…find the clues and follow them…”

“Right,” Shoko drawled, smirking, “You remember where they are?”

Sarah’s sheepish laugh was all the answer she needed.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the mansion, Suguru and Satoru moved through the dark halls with little care. Shadows slipped around them, but they barely gave them a glance, dismissing each cursed spirit with a flick of their cursed energy. If anything, they looked bored, like they were on a leisurely stroll rather than inside a haunted house.

Suguru suddenly narrowed his eyes as he was mulling over the recent events. He stopped in his tracks and looked at Satoru. "If... The Camera Obscura is just part of the curse then how is it actually able to exorcise the curses?" He asked.

Satoru, who was a few steps ahead scoping out a ruined dining room, turned to him. He looked ready to answer before his brows furrowed and he said, "Y'know I hadn't thought of that. If anything the curses should just be recycling in on themselves."

"You mentioned before that she had a strange second energy, right?" Suguru asked, crossing his arms and putting one hand to his chin.

"Yeah," Satoru nodded, pushing at a broken screen with the toe of his shoes, "Think maybe that's what it is?"

"Well," Suguru tapped his chin, "It's definitely a possibility. Especially with what Yaga told us."

"Oh yeah, what did he say anyway?" Satoru asked, shoving the rest of the door aside.

"He said he'd allow her to go only if we could ensure her safety, which naturally we can, and we have her exorcise at least one curse," he explained, "I wonder if he wanted to see if her power works differently than ours?"

"Well, clearly it does," Satoru said, "Since it still can exorcise a curse using its own cursed energy. Maybe her stuff just blends in?"

"Oh, that could be," Suguru said, blasting a ghost apart as it tried to leap at him from inside the room.

"If I were to call it anything, I'd say it's like the opposite of cursed energy," Satoru explained, "Like... Divine energy, I guess? Hard to say since I've never seen anything like that."

"Divine energy would probably fit the bill," Suguru agreed, "Since it can resurrect and repels cursed energy but also draw curses in."

"It's weird though, right?" Satoru asked, crossing his arms, "Why haven't we seen it before? Never, even going to other countries have I seen it before. What's different about her?"

Suguru smiled, "Well, I suppose it's something to do with her bloodline. We could research it?"

"I tried," Satoru sighed, "The oldies blocked me from every angle. I guess I could call in the family to do it, but I don't really want them to know I know about her."

"It might be necessary, unfortunately," Suguru said, "Because it's not likely they'll let us find out more than we've already figured out. Yaga has already put himself at risk by telling us anything at all."

"Well, he'll be fine," Satoru shrugged, "We just won't let them threaten him. The geezers can't stop us." He smiled, then added, "Alright, I'll hit up gramps when we get this done. Let's see what he'll spill."

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as Sarah and Shoko bolted down it, their breathing ragged as they jumped over splintered wood and ducked under fallen beams. Dust and rot filled the air, thickening with each frantic step as the heavy footsteps of the ghost followed close behind. It was the spirit of a young woman, her modern clothes a stark contrast to the decrepit mansion. Her skin was marred with rope burns, deep and bruised, and her pale face contorted in anger. She was faster than any of the ghosts they’d seen before, and her hands reached out, long fingers curling as if to snatch them.

“Can’t… you just… stab it?” Sarah gasped, struggling with the camera’s film as she stumbled alongside Shoko.

“Not this one!” Shoko replied, not slowing her pace. “It’s too strong—just get the film in!”

Sarah fumbled with the camera, trying to load the film, her hands trembling as she struggled to fit it into the slot. “Come on, come on!” she muttered, wincing as the camera’s metal edge bit into her finger. She stifled a curse as blood welled up and dripped onto the film. Her frustration turned to determination, and with a final push, she finally slid the film into place.

“Got it!” she exclaimed, whipping around, but in her haste, she stumbled back into Shoko, who grabbed her shoulders, steadying them both as the spirit bore down on them.

Sarah lifted the camera, hands shaking, and with a hard click, the flash erupted into a golden blaze. The light filled the hallway, illuminating the ghost's face in an almost surreal glow. For a split second, her eyes softened, the fury and anguish replaced by a fleeting calm. In that one instant, her expression looked almost… at peace. The image was brief, a single heartbeat, before she vanished in a swirl of light and cold air.

Shoko stared, her eyes wide, breathing heavily as the afterimage lingered in her vision. “Did… did you see that?” she whispered, stunned.

Sarah nodded, her grip tightening on the camera as she tried to catch her breath. “Yeah… she looked almost…” She trailed off, too rattled to find the words.

Far across the mansion, both Suguru and Satoru felt the powerful shift in cursed energy—a flicker of something heavy, then lighter, as if the curse had dispersed. Without a word, they exchanged a look of understanding and immediately set off, weaving through halls and stairways as they made their way toward the girls.

Satoru moved quickly, his grin vanishing as he sped up, cutting through obstacles with swift blasts of cursed energy, his eyes sharper than usual. Suguru, meanwhile, kept his cursed spirits at the ready, his footsteps quiet but purposeful as he wound through the mansion.

When they finally found the girls again, Shoko and Sarah were still sitting on the ground catching their breath. Satoru sauntered over, leaning on the wall looking smug.

"So, how's the photo taking going?" He asked.

"Cut the crap," Shoko huffed, "You felt that right? That bright light? Was that her?" She pointed at Sarah who blinked and looked between the two of them.

"Yeah," Satoru nodded, "That's what I was talking about."

"It's so... Soft," Shoko said, looking at Sarah and tilting her head, "The curse seemed happy before it was erased."

Now that was new. Satoru furrowed his brow. "Happy? Like when you unravel a curse rather than exorcise it?"

Shoko nodded, "Yeah, exactly. It was super weird!"

"Huh?" Sarah stood up, "That's not how it's supposed to go?"

"No," Satoru said, "Is that the first time you've seen a curse exorcised?"

Sarah looked down at the floor, considering how to answer that. Satoru waited, but after a moment he saw that panic creep into her expression. She did see it happen before, she must have. She only got confused about her past when something was being covered up.

"Here," Satoru shook her shoulder, getting her mind back on him, "Let me show you how it's done."

She blinked away her confusion and smiled at him. "Oh yeah? Is this a special lesson from my senpai or are you just showing off?" She teased.

He pulled down his sunglasses and winked at her with a winning smile, "Can't it be both, baby?"

She playfully shoved him, then held out the camera, "You can sense them with this too if you need to."

"Pff," he took off his sunglasses completely and hung them off his shirt collar, "Nah, I've got special eyes remember?"

With his Six Eyes focused, Satoru quickly zeroed in on the manor’s curse—a dense, pulsing core of malevolent energy buried in the heart of the decayed building. His eyes narrowed as he mapped out the twisted network of cursed energy, sensing the curse’s hold on the whole structure, like roots tangling and suffocating an old tree.

Without a second thought, he appeared beside Shoko and Sarah, scooping them up under his arms with a cheerful, “Upsy daisy!” Sarah let out a startled yelp as he held her with one arm, Shoko on the other, their feet barely grazing the floor before he launched out of the mansion, skimming over the broken floorboards and leaping through the gaping front doorway in a flash.

“Suguru! Brace yourself!” he shouted as he touched down just outside. Without waiting, he raised his hand, two fingers pointed toward the manor as his cursed energy coiled and began to surge. Blue sparks crackled as an orb of condensed power formed near his fingertips, the energy practically singing with intensity. The air around them grew thick, buzzing with raw power.

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she glanced at the glowing blue orb only inches from her face. “Satoru, that’s a little close, don’t you think?” she stammered, feeling the pulse of cursed energy against her skin.

He glanced down at her, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

And with that, he released the orb. It shot forward in a blinding beam, tearing straight into the heart of the manor. The explosion was immediate, a deep, resonating blast that expanded outward with enough force to shatter the ancient wooden beams and send splinters into the air. Dust and debris erupted as the manor collapsed inward, swallowed by the swirling cursed energy that Satoru had unleashed.

A moment later, Suguru emerged from the debris, coughing as he climbed out from beneath a fallen beam, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and exasperation. “You could’ve given me a little more warning, you know!" He shouted.

“I did warn you,” Satoru shot back, crossing his arms with a look of mock innocence, “You just weren’t fast enough to get out.”

Suguru narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. “Fast enough? You gave me half a second!" He growled.

Their voices rose as they squabbled, Satoru’s tone lighthearted, while Suguru’s was more genuinely annoyed. But neither Shoko nor Sarah paid them much attention, both staring at the remains of the manor. The wooden beams and cursed energy dissolved together, releasing a cloudy, black mist into the air. The curse’s grip on the house dissipated like smoke in the wind, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

As the mist faded, Shoko let out a quiet sigh, and Sarah grinned, still clutching the Camera Obscura as it slowly disintegrated in her hands. “Well,” she said, glancing over at Shoko, “that’s one way to exorcise a curse.”

Shoko chuckled, patting Sarah on the shoulder. “I’d say we’re done here.”

In the background, Satoru and Suguru were still bickering, their voices carrying across the clearing as the last traces of cursed energy faded, leaving nothing but a memory of the old, haunted manor.

⤶ Prev Main Next ↪

[sleepyowlet]

"There are people who decide what goes into textbooks and what doesn't." and "There are people who decide what gets funded and what doesn't." isn't a conspiracy theory, that's just fact.

Why do they do this? Because they are hired or elected to do this. Why does that happen? Because the ones determining that determine policy via finances. This is not a conspiracy theory, lobbyists exist. They literally buy influence via donations.

This is not about the Illuminati or some shit, this is about the owners of capital as a class. They will never act against their own interests, and they will never allow a government to do so as long as they are allowed to directly influence policy by spending money.

And they're not exactly hiding? How is something that happens out in the open for everybody to see a conspiracy??? Just...follow the streams of money and you see why things happen. If you own it, you control it.

Why do voters vote against their own economic interests? Because they are uneducated and misinformed.

Why are they like that? Because the capitalist class controls information outlets and has enacted a very successful propaganda campaign. Why do you think Elon Musk bought Twitter? Why do you think Disney bought Fox?

I don't even think they're colluding. They just use their capital to protect their interests, and those interests are profit. Voter misinformation is just one facet. Or are you gonna tell me the CIA's role in attacking and suppressing communist/socialist regimes all over the planet for decades (so they don't seem like a viable alternative) is a conspiracy theory too?

It's not a conspiracy theory if it's, like, just plain there. If they admit to it and keep saying the quiet part out loud. No need for conclusion-jumping.

How can that be countered? Education. How do we get information to people? How do we convince them to listen?

IDK man. Marx didn't have an answer to that one and neither do I.

surely we could educate the people in matters of economics and social theory to make them less stupid in their voting.

Perhaps, but that's a multi-generational project of improving education, which doesn't solve the short-term problem of winning political campaigns. Indeed, the former is rather predicated on the latter.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[raayllum]

also i know what it's like to think a story is leaning one way but be so worried you're reading it wrong because you also know in your heart of hearts how badly you want it to be leaning that way, so from someone who is far more 'comparatively impartial' - ruthari is going to get their happy ending, man. 100%

[aeolianblues]

the real fiction in a lot of band AU fics is the amount of time bands seem to have on the evening of a show!

[dirtytransmasc]

maybe it's because I'm in the "I'm so obsessed and hyperfocused on my little guys I will make any song seem like it's about them even if it couldn't be any father from actually relating to them at all" stage of my Theon and Asha hyperfixation but like...

I feel like 'I bet on losing dogs' by Mitski is about them.

it's about Asha and her relationship with Theon.

he's her baby brother. the baby brother who looked up at her smiled when she had gone in his room, intent on strangling him to stop his cries. he's her losing dog. the dog she keeps fighting for when no one else will. she never gives up on him, not truly, even when he is so clearly doomed, because she loves him, she won't give up on him.

and Theon is, in so many senses, a dog. he's been passed around from owner to owner, home to home, trained and beaten and domesticated, made to behave how his owner at the time sees fit. he's a good dog, a good beaten dog.

and now, in a way, he's Asha's dog. she doesn't want him to be her dog, she wants him to be her brother, and Theon's trying, he really is trying, she knows he's trying, but part of him will always be doomed to be a dog waiting to be hit, waiting for a command, waiting to be trained.

he's her losing dog, she knows it, knows he's doomed, deep down, there's little hope, he'll die a damned dog, but fuck it she doesn't care, he's her blood, her baby, he will be by her side no matter what. she'll always go back for him, she'll always fight for him, she'll always tell him to stay, she'll always give him a chance, she'll always try.

~~~~

[pinkyjulien]

.

[pensivespacepirate]

AM I IN FUCKING ESKEW AGAIN

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Slightly concerned that chapter 2 of my critically acclaimed new fic might be a bit shit...