#post hellton

[anderperrylover]

A RANDOM THOUGHT

I don't know but imagine the poets trying to help Todd on like some sort of confession for Neil...This is post Hellton...and everyone's just....

Charlie literally corners him against a wall cause he wants Neil to be happy. He tells Todd that is he screws up he's a dead man and he is for once extremely serious about it all

Knox teaches him how to write sappy poetry and then he just rambles on about Chris (just to annoy Charlie)

Meeks having the rational advice of - Hey you'll be fine - Have you thought about just talking

Pitts telling Todd to pull of a flashmob (very 10 things I hate about You)

Cameron's just like the one who tries to reassure him - You'll be fine

Charlie - If you Fuck it up, Anderson - You're a dead man Knox - And hey have you thought about writing about their eyes. Oh, Todd I swear Chris's eyes.... Charlie - Yeah, sure - we know how that ended up Knox - Hey? Trying to help him? Charlie - Yeah and if you screw this up, we're done!

Meeks - Just go and be honest man. What can go wrong? I mean it's Neil

Pitts - Okay, listen - How about Sinatra? No - No something by The Beatles - Get Charlie to do a solo or something? Yes, leave it to me, Todd (Gets far to invested)

Cameron - You can do this, man. Just be honest. (Talks to him over a cup of tea or something)

[iamlouisebringmethecheese]

more sketches of the hellton boys

sorry i haven't been posting school has been kicking my butt :(

[larapluma]

We hug now by Sydney Rose is Richard Cameron coded and you can't tell me I'm wrong. I'm not (and I'm going to tell you why :). Welcome to Lara obsession post - I've been listing to this song in repeat and have read almost all the chameron I found in AO3 (that's in total 181 works - I read like 120 of those maybe... I read it in one day. I don't want to talk about it.) Just to be clear it is an Chameron situationship - I'm seeing this as if they are toxic (or not) lovers. The way I most liked it it was when they were toxics, angsty, interlized homophobia... I have issues anyway. Also they are adults in this, young adults in their 20's maybe thinking about what happened when they were 17 - Neil dead (and everything else). It's from Cameron point of view - with sometimes Charlie point of view :) GOING INTO THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SONG NOW : You don't see stars here, they're just city lights I think back to where you live and how you can see the entire sky - Cameron thinks about when they lived at Hell-ton together at there was stars. In his mind Charlie still lives in the school around stars. It's occasional, sometimes I'll see the moon And I'll think of you - Cameron thinks about the nights in the cave (where they would walk in the forest and would see the moon. The moon makes Cam think about his friends and also Charlie that used to walk in front of him, with Neil.) My mom will convince me, and I'll get the courage to ask We will get coffee in Canton and you'll nervously laugh - When he's studying to become a lawyer - he used to take coffees close to his school. Sometimes he would think about writing to Charlie and propose to see each other. But there was too much blood between them so he never did it. With time, he become friends with the waiter she used to say that one day Cameron would write to Charlie. When we hug, 'cause we don't hug, we never used to do that We don't do that - At the middle of their friendship, they become friends and it was fine. Because they shared a room, even if they annoyed each other (and hated each other) they still loved each other. That was one of the things that they hated the most - how they continued to NEED each other even if they hated each other. So before everything went to Hell again (that short period where they didn't mind the other) - they used to sometimes touch each other. Cameron would pat Charlie shoulder, and the other boy would get starved of it (for Cameron touch.) And so no, they didn't hug and in Charlie mind when they would meet again. They would hug and they would be fine (they wouldn't because they would never meet in real life.) But in Charlie touch-starved imagination they would hug and everything would be fine. They would be just like during those two months during they were 17. Sometimes I go to sleep And I'm still 17 - He sometimes dreams that he's back at Welton (at 17 with his friends and everything is fine. Neil isn't dead yet and Charlie doesn't want him dead. They are happy and fine. You still live down my street You're not mad at me - Charlie is not mad at Cameron for saying everything to Nolan and they are fine. They don't hate each other, Charlie doesn't want Cameron dead. They are fine. And in that dream, I will say everything I wanted That every day after May, I haven't found what I needed - In the dream Cameron will tell Charlie that he isn't happy with his life, that since that day (since the December 15), he hasn't been fine. He will tell in his dream that he used to love Charlie, he used to want him even if he hated the thought of wanting him. No one has come close to you And I don't think anyone will - Since Charlie go to his new school he hasn't have link with people. He couldn't contact with people, couldn't tell them about Neil and how he used to love and want Cameron. How he wasn't sure he wanted Cameron dead even after everything.Charlie will never have friends after Hellton, not like the poets at least.

[goodnightbirdy]

Sticky Lungs - Chapter 2

apologies in advance, this chapter isn't nearly as poetic as the first, Meeks is going through it.

Chapter 1

"Meeks felt like he was placed right back in Welton but ten times worse. Instead of pudgy, old Mr McCalister shouting at you to slow down, there was a mountain of a man screaming at everyone to hurry it up. Instead of a glancing room check from Dr Hager, there was an intensive inspection of each corner of his bed, ensuring the sheet was flat and taught. Instead of Hellton Hash there was something much more sinister and grey that Meeks couldn't identify and honestly, didn't wish too."

TAGS: Steven Meeks, Meeks-Centric, Angst, Post-Canon, Vietnam War, other poets mentioned

disclaimer/minor spoiler for chapter 2 in Purple

In this fic Steven Meeks was drafted. I am aware that he was too old to be drafted in canon, if you'll notice in the first chapter i said ‘Men born between 1942 and 1950 were placed in the draft lottery’ these dates are incorrect. The oldest men ever drafted were born in 44 (25 years old)  HOWEVER, this is fanfiction and i reserve the right to do whatever the fuck i want so i changed the dates. Yeah, meeks is drafted at 27, who cares. 

In this fic Steven Meeks is placed in the infantry, he also has an engineering degree. These things coexist. Men who enlisted voluntarily got to choose their assignment, in MY fic Meeks did not enlist. So even with his engineering degree, he's gonna end up with the 82% of men drafted that ended up in the infantry.

Lastly, I don't really care about the realism of this fic. I'm here to emotionally destroy a ginger from the 1950s, not write the most accurate vietnam war fic ever. Don't question anything that closely, I beg.

TLDR; My fic doesn't fit with the real world timeline of the vietnam war, meeks was an engineer, now he's an infantryman, pls dont examine this fic for real world accuracy, i'll cry.

Chapter 2 - Basic

Once you land you immediately start basic training, your head is shaved, and your ass is shot full of vaccines. You're issued a uniform that feels like sandpaper and given a bunk number to report too immediately. 

Meeks felt like he was placed right back in Welton but ten times worse. Instead of pudgy, old Mr McCalister shouting at you to slow down, there was a mountain of a man screaming at everyone to hurry it up. Instead of a glancing room check from Dr Hager, there was an intensive inspection of each corner of his bed, ensuring the sheet was flat and taught. Instead of Hellton Hash there was something much more sinister and grey that Meeks couldn't identify and honestly, didn't wish too. 

The running was the worst of it. There were other elements of the physical training that were awful but the running was its own special form of torture. Running before breakfast, running after breakfast, running after the firing range, running before hand-to-hand, running before lunch, running after lunch, running before dinner, and running after. 

It wasn't as if he was out of shape. He had stayed fairly fit after his lifetime of soccer and rowing. He still ran, he worked out on occasion, only it felt as though it had a purpose in his life before The Letter. Now he ran to nowhere. He ran in circles, oblongs, and figure-eights. He was screamed at to run and run hard, all for the sake of running. Meeks suddenly understood why they shaved his head, because he would have surely ripped his hair out by now if they hadn't. 

It all felt useless, like learning Latin. Skills he needed to learn were being tossed at him with such speed that he was only half catching them with the tips of his fingers. They were kept on such a tight schedule that he barely had time to take a deep breath, let alone think at any particular length. It was driving him insane.

He was packed in with 120 other men between the ages of 17 and 28, some conscripted, some enlisted voluntarily. Why anyone would voluntarily choose this was lost on him. The attitudes towards the situation were varied to say the least. Quite a few loudly hated that they were here, if they had any other option they would have tried to get deferment, but most seemed to be deeply neutral on the situation, this was simply the way things went. The final camp was mostly made of men who volunteered for service, they were a loud and enthusiastic group. They seemed happy to serve their country or die trying, it wasn't a sentiment that Meeks could fully comprehend, though he was trying. 

There was a kid, George, barely 18, enlisted, and slept one bed over. He reminded Meeks of Charlie. Overzealous, easily excitable, loud. But he was different in the sense that he seemed unable to tone it back in inappropriate moments. He laughed when they crawled through mud, he grinned when handed a rifle, and he complained endlessly about the hard beds and awful food. 

Meeks apparently didn't have the same patience for him as he once did for Charlie. He dreamed of grabbing the kid and shaking him, screaming in his face “Do you understand why we’re here? Do you understand that you might die? Do you understand!?” 

Meeks was rapidly approaching a breaking point when the kid moaned for what must have been the millionth time about the hard cots they slept on. Something in him snapped. 

“Jesus. Do you ever quit?” Meeks sniped. He instantly regretted the words as the group of men around them quieted to hear. 

“Huh?” George stared at him, slack jawed. 

Meeks sighed (sticky lungs) “I said, do you ever quit? Complaining?” He raised a brow at the kid.

“I was just, you know, talking. Filling the silence.”

“Can you fill the silence with something else? Something that you haven't incessantly complained about for weeks? Please?” The words tumbled from his lips without the filter he once had, having lost it sometime in the last week Meeks supposed. It occurred to him that he would never have been that short with Charlie. Something in him was hardening, something he didn't appreciate. 

The kid just stared at him for a moment. “...sorry man.”

“Meeks,” the kid wasn't Charlie. The kid was George, and something about him annoyed Meeks to no end.

“What?” 

“Meeks. It's my name, not ‘man,’ Meeks.”

His tongue felt sharp, more cutting than he had ever been. He didn't know what was happening to the man he was before The Letter, maybe the sandpaper uniforms were wearing him away. He wanted to go home.

“Oh uh, sorry.. Meeks” 

Meeks didn't respond, only nodded and went back to his food that tasted like nothing. The conversation around them picked back up, someone began talking about their wife back home, and Meeks tuned it out. 

%%%%%

Meeks’ glasses were scratched.

He had always tried to be careful with his glasses since another boy crushed them on accident during a soccer game in middle school. He had taken the pieces of crushed glass and plastic to his father, who sighed and muttered about how much replacements would cost. He had been blind for some time and had to sit in the very front of class while he waited for the new pair. 

But now his glasses were scratched. 27 years old and he couldn't maintain a pair of glasses. He supposed it wasn't entirely his fault. He had been dragged through the mud, both metaphorically and literally, these past 8 weeks, but it was still annoying. The scratch was directly in the middle of the lens and impossible not to look at. It was like looking through a window with a crack in the corner, not really that big a deal, but it draws the eye regardless. 

He took them off and looked through them at the light in the dining hall. George stared at him as he did. Despite Meeks’ small snap at him a couple of weeks ago the kid had begun to cling to him like a shadow.

“What are you doing?” the kid asked.

“My glasses are scratched.” Meeks said simply, tilting the lenses so that George could peer through them. 

George squinted at the glasses, “if it bothers you, why do you still wear them?” the kid asked dumbly. 

“I can’t see George. I can't just not wear them.” Meeks made an effort not to refer to George as ‘kid’ out loud. He had thrown a fit over being called ‘man,’ the best he could do was call the kid  by his name. 

“Oh.” The kid did that a lot. ‘Huh’ and ‘oh’ fell from his lips like water. The more time went on, the less he reminded Meeks of Charlie. Charlie was smart as a whip, and quick with a comeback. Charlie rarely had so little to say that ‘oh’ tumbled from him. 

Silence grew between them as Meeks placed his glasses back on. The group next to them was playing cards and someone heaved a deep sigh as they stared at their presumably shit hand.

“Sticky lungs.” Meeks muttered to himself.

“Huh?” 

Frustration lanced through Meeks and he turned to George, “Sticky Lungs,” he dead panned.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It's why people sigh. Because the little air sacs in your lungs stick to themselves, people involuntarily take a deep breath and it forces them open again. It maintains proper lung function.” Meeks explained flatly. 

He had learned about sticky lungs in highschool and he had only ever told three people about it. Pitts, who he told endless fun facts too, his mother, in a moment of silence at the breakfast table, and Neil, who had once wondered aloud about how to tell the difference between a sigh of contentment and frustration. He didn't know why he explained it to the kid, he was probably just going to say ‘oh’ anyway.

“Oh.”

Meeks nearly scoffed at the predictability of the arguably dim boy. He was eighteen, hopefully he would grow up out of it. Hopefully he would grow up at all. 

%%%%%

Basic training ended and they were being separated based on aptitude for certain things. Meeks had a feeling, despite his education, he wouldn't be chosen for anything that required great precision due to his eyesight. He had a bachelors in engineering, but that didn't mean much to the army when you couldn't see 15 feet in front of you without a coke bottle of glass in front of you. 

They were lined up and their names were called with whatever your destiny was following.

“John Richards: Infantry. Michael Fisher: Artillery.” Steven was next. He honestly didn't know what he was hoping for, but before that he even had time to process that thought his name was being called.

“Steven Meeks: Infantry.”

Images of the front lines flashing in his mind. Moments of horror caught on film and broadcasted to the world. Meeks swallowed as he realized, they were no longer going to be moments of distant pain caught in a photograph a world away from him, it would be real. Tangible. Reality. 

He felt panic rising in him, his world dropping out beneath him. He hadn't felt such a sinking dread in his gut since Neil. George suddenly bumped his shoulder.

“Infantry Meeks! Maybe we’ll be stationed together.” The kid was almost giddy. It unnerved him. 

“Maybe,” Meeks replied numbly. He was trying hard not to outwardly panic. He wished he knew anyone here, for just a second he prayed to suddenly see one of the poets. He hoped he had missed them all these weeks and suddenly they would appear before him. It wouldn't be so miserable if he had someone to talk to. Someone he knew, someone who cared, someone who was possibly as scared as him. 

Meeks sighed, “Sticky lungs,” he muttered to himself.

[key-smash]

Not to start Dead Poets Society posting but a Hellton boy ( Todd Anderson himself to be frank) invited me to dance on stage for the rock&roll bal yesterday and I can’t stop thinking about it

[hordraomin]

I am also a neographist so here's my latest stylish creation:

Restais

I should clarify that I am mostly a cipher-creator, since A) I don't want to spend hellton of time making actual conlangs for each and every of my creations but I want to create, so ciphers for English is the best solution here. Enough symbols to create a coolish feel, just tight fit 26.

All (well, good ol' 90%) of my neographic creations are posted on my reddit, u/DaCrazyWorldbuilder.

Also I take commissions for conscripts (CONstructed SCRIPTS).

[poetrybypuck]

Todd Anderson post-Hellton

[zikadraws]

''N-No hard feelings, right...?''

-HOUSE game fanart-

I just love the heroine (her name's 'Tammy', apparently)

Also :

Please give her a long hard break (and probably a hellton of therapy-)

(Told you my posts would become more random)

Alrighty, thank you, enjoy😊

[octaviasdread]

Gendered Boarding Schools: Dead Poets Society (1989) & All I Wanna Do (1998) - Part Two

P1: Character & Plot Similarities | P3: Student Rebellions & Secret Societies | P4: Are They Queer?

I'm back with another silly little post about mid-century boarding schools I'll never be rich enough to attend. Shamefully, I haven't actually finished part one yet, but I have a lot of half-finished content that's really late so here we are. I'm planning to try and get part one up tomorrow, but I hope this makes enough sense without it.

P.S - All I Wanna Do has a few content warnings so if anyone wants a list or anything specific just send me an ask<3

Part Two: Schools, Teachers & Star Students (aka, the start of an extensive analysis)

1. Nolan's Hellton vs. McVane's Miss Godawful's

Both Welton and Miss Goddard's are attended by multiple generations of the same families and are touted to be one of the best preparatory schools in the United States.

While these 19th-century institutions remain almost unchanged in their approach to education and welfare, there are noticeable differences in their goals. Welton was established to protect tradition, while Miss Goddard created her school to protect the minds and interests of young girls whose education is not traditionally prioritised.

Mr Nolan as headmaster represents conformity to a society that is inadequate for the boys. Nolan believes in the success of the old ways and the preservation of social power. For this reason, he views Mr Keating's teaching philosophy as a threat to social stability. If students can think for themselves, they may not follow the prescribed path of college, a well-paid (and parentally approved) career, marriage, and kids to feed back into the system.

Whereas Miss McVane, headmistress of Miss Goddard's, represents a need for social change. She believes in her school as a rare institution that provides a high-quality, well-rounded education to girls who would otherwise end up in traditional finishing schools. Miss Goddard's carries hallmarks of a finishing school - french lessons and horse riding - to satisfy the requirements of upper-class parents, whilst concentrating on academic achievement, character building, and self-governance in its students.

Interestingly, this places Miss McVane closer to Mr Keating than Mr Nolan in her characterisation as a humorous, well-intentioned, and sympathetic teacher. This similarity also has a darker side as Miss McVane is similarly restricted to working within the system to alter the student's environment, education, and well-being for the better. She may be Headmistress, but her power is limited by the trustees in ways that Mr Nolan's authority is not. The film makes it clear that Miss McVane will not be listened to, and will even be penalised, if she becomes angry or emotional during disagreements with the trustees or the Headmaster of the St. Ambrose School for Boys. The insecurity of her position is stated outright. If Miss Goddard's becomes co-educational then she can easily be replaced.

This threat confirms Miss McVane's fear that her girls will be neglected within the walls of their own school and therefore inadequately prepared to advocate for themselves in the outside world.

"We build them up so you can’t tear them down. They come first here. If we merge with a boy’s academy, the girls will be second. They shouldn’t have to learn such a bitter lesson at this crucial age" ~ Miss McVane

Miss McVane's method of balancing compliance with hints of subversion fails, leaving her exhausted from fighting within the limits of a system set up to subdue her. In the Headmistress' final moments with Verena, she lets her emotions get the better of her, before instructing her ex-student to "never give up." In this scene, student and teacher part as equals (shown in their handshake and Miss McVane offering her student a cigarette) who have each made sacrifices for "the fight."

Visually, Miss McVane's final meeting with Verena has many similarities to Neil's last scene alone with Keating. Tea and tears define these scenes as student and teacher talk freely within the private sanctuary of their teacher's office. The key difference between these meetings is reflected, in part, through colour. Miss McVane's parting words to Verena are spoken amongst a backdrop of light and greenery, hinting at her fertile future full of growth and possibility. Keating's office is coloured with hints of red while the close-up shots which accompany the dialogue are shadowed, betraying Neil's gloomy future. It is the tone of these mentor meetings that foreshadows the end of Verena and Neil's character arcs.

Meanwhile, it is the remaining students whose actions make an impact. The Headmistress cannot protect them, nor can Verena, their peer leader. This loss generates a similar sense of hopelessness and impending doom to the loss of Neil and the removal of Mr Keating. These emotions motivate the girls to organise and use their education to stage a protest. They re-group under Odie's leadership - like the poet's following Todd's lead in peaceful protest against Keating's dismissal - to demand a vote and lobby for power.

"Miss Godard’s gave us a voice, so now it’s kinda hard to shut up" ~ Odette Sinclair

This contrast between Miss McVane's resigned dread and the energy of youth reflects the larger cultural context of social protest and second-wave feminism at the time of the film's 1963 setting. It was a notable year in US feminism:

Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique was published. The book used interviews and research to argue that women are not inherently fulfilled by the role of a housewife. It questioned the contribution of education, media portrayals, and the advertising industry to the widespread lack of identity felt by women. While the book undeniably mobilised a challenge to tradition, it cannot be ignored that Friedan's work excluded non-white, working-class, and queer women

Gloria Steinem's A Bunny's Tale was published in SHOW magazine. This was a shocking expose of the misogeny, exploitation, and forced medical monitoring that women suffered as employees at Hugh Hefner's Playboy club

The Equal Pay Act was signed into federal law by President Kennedy in June to make pay discrimination on the basis of gender illegal for similar work with the same employer

For the cultural context of Dead Poet's Society's 1959 setting see part four (I still can't believe I did that) of my previous essay series.

2. Social Power and the Face of the Trustees

The Trustees' neglect of Miss Goddard's and their under-estimation of the girls is evident in the school security. Where Welton Academy has dogs to keep watch and raise the alarm, Miss Goddard's has elderly men constantly shown to be unfit for the position. Throughout the film, the guards are shown to be sleeping on duty, zoning out while Odie's boyfriend sneaks in, and absolutely nowhere to be found when Snake's gang of 'townie' boys trespasses twice onto school property at night.

The face-off between the old, white men supposed to enforce the rules and the teenage girls armed with anger and hockey sticks only emphasises the building social change. The guards manage to take down the barriers to the occupied building but cower at the sight of organised young women. Hints of ineptitude become undeniable fact as the security team runs away. This short exchange illustrates the effectiveness of a united front, but also the incoming era of social revolution as the guards who most closely resemble the nation's leaders are unable to use force against this majority, thus leaving them no choice but to retreat.

Mrs Sawyer, President of the Trustees, wears the 'little white gloves' (examined in the next section) which Odie tells her classmates to throw out during her rallying speech. These gloves are symbolic of compliance with the socio-political system which devalued and oppressed women in the period.

When a security guard explains they will have to break windows and doors to carry out Mrs Sawyer's instructions, Miss McVane is horrified, while Mrs Sawyer responds, "do it." This willingness to destroy the school building represents her participation in efforts to uphold capitalist and patriarchal power. Mrs Swayer benefited from the school, yet has no regrets about damaging the opportunities and education provided to its current students, including her daughter, if the result is a further increase to her own socio-economic power as an individual.

"Miss Goddard's was betrayed by her own. Year after year I've been on my knees grovelling to the alumni for handouts [...] Men give generously to their schools, it's a solid investment for ensuring a steady supply of the nation's leaders will be men. Maybe you women don't give because, deep down, you know it's useless" ~ Miss McVane

I'd like to amend Miss McVane's speech to acknowledge that these ensured leaders will be men like themselves. The men donating as alumni are largely those from schools like Welton - white and extremely privileged. Men from working-class and minority backgrounds rarely received the same support or opportunities, in fact, they were actively excluded from them.

On the topic of privilege and power, it is Mrs Sawyer, the President of the Board of Trustees, who most closely mirrors Mr Nolan.

Visually, Gale Nolan and Paige Sawyer hold similar positions at the Chapel lectern as they represent the school authority in an address to the students and their parents. Placing these characters as representatives of preparatory schools reveals a further narrative function - a representation of the adults these schools are expected to produce.

It is particularly interesting that both Richard Cameron and Abigail Sawyer, the two students these adults have the highest expectations of and feel proudest of the trust placed in them to succeed at the beginning of Dead Poets Society and All I Wanna Do, become the most conflicted about their duty to obey adult (and social) authority as the events of each film unfold.

Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but Mrs Sawyer losing her control over Abigail, the board of Trustees, and Miss Goddard's school seems like an apt commentary on the fading importance of high society wives as women began to enter the workforce in greater numbers. This entrance into the workforce is exactly what the secret DAR club discusses as their most secret of ambitions.

A similar conclusion can be drawn from Dead Poets Society as the tragedy has little effect on Nolan - a representative of those whose power has been maintained long after the social revolutions of the 1960s. Meanwhile, the students learn to think for themselves and are forced to choose a side - to stand or not stand - at the end of the film. It is the youth who drove much of the protest movements against the governing forces which Nolan represents.

I debated over the inclusion of this section, but both of these films are retrospective tales of the past produced 1989-98. Knowledge of historical outcomes has an inescapable effect on our interpretations of history so it is a fair angle to at least consider.

-

Parts 2, 3, and 4 were originally one long and glitch-filled post. For this reason, the images are still in a combined format from when I tried to squeeze them into the ten image limit, sorry! But I'm too tired to change it now.

-

Sources:

A-Level: American History, 1860-1975

Uni module: Angry Young Men & Women: Literature of the Mid-Twentieth Century

Betty Friedman's The Feminine Mystique: text and about

Gloria Steinem's 'A Bunny's Tale

The Equal Pay Act

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

[vincentferard]

'I'll probably post it on lunch' I say and then don't bring my thought journal to work. 🙂

Anyway! Here's my 'essay' on

Why I believe Charlie 'Nuwanda' Dalton is a trans lesbian*

*a small note: I do use he/him pronouns throughout the 'essay' only due to the fact that those are the cannon pronouns used throughout the movie. Since this is all hypothetical I wasn't sure if I should use he/him or she/her so I followed the ones used in the movie .

Please bear with me as you read this; It is much less an easy and more of a (hopefully) organized collection of thoughts.

The first point I should start with is, yes, I know Charlie's/Nuwanda's character was written to be a ladies man (if not a womanizer, though I wouldn't go that far). He was designed to be the flirty friend from the go. Since that is a key part of his character and who he is, it did help me to come to this idea.

Most people in the fandom seem to agree that most of the main boys are very much queer-coded (intentional or not). Charlie/Nuwanda, however, has always seemed mainly focused on girls. From his teasing of Knox to his newspaper insert and 'Phone Call From God' it seems to be a focus point of his character.

Now, as far as the newspaper and the 'Phone Call From God' is concerned maybe we really can attribute that to him being a ladies man, maybe, but even so doesn't it seem a bit extreme? Even for Charlie/Nuwanda, though he is a bit of a wild card, it's risking a lot and seems a little extreme.

Now, hypothetically speaking, if Charlie/Nuwanda was transitioning or coming out then he'd end up being kicked out of Hellton Wellton anyway for not being a boy. If that was the case he'd really, school wise at least, have nothing to lose. Logically I know he'd be kicked for being trans anyway but we'll say, hypothetically, this was more or less his thought process.

Do I have more info to back this up? Yes, I do.

The day he snuck the article into the newspaper is the same day he brought the girls to the cave. The same day he changed his name to Nuwanda. He revealed his name change to his closest friends, people who he can trust.

Another small thing is when he drew the symbols on his cheeks it was with lipstick. I know it's because what was on hand at the time in the scene but even so. Symbolism?

At first most of the boys seem to more or less think it's a joke and laugh. Later on when then small argument between Charlie/Nuwanda and the others go down both Neil and Cameron put extra emphasis on 'Charlie' instead of Nuwanda which later gets re-addressed after Charlie's/Nuwanda's meeting with Mr. Nolan. "Damnit Neil, the name's Nuwanda."

And that's about all I have so far!

I know these are all very small points but that's my thought process on the whole thing.

For the lesbian head-canon that more or less went along with the trans head-canon. Since Charlie seems to only be interested in girls I head-canoned him as a lesbian (though of course that could absolutely not be the case as well).

Thank you lovelies for reading and have a wonderful day!

[madd-roma]

Here i go, finally snapping and creating a MaDD sideblog. I decided that i cannot do it on my own and want to join the community :) Please, like/rb/dm if you post about madd and/or want to be friends 🌼 (I'll follow back from @/un-ree-me)

A little introduction below

My name is Roma, i go by she/her, they/them pronouns! I am 22 now and have been a maladaptive daydreamer since around 15. It evolved from reading a hellton of fanfiction as coping with lonliness tho, so i basically never figured myself out and as of now have a kind of superficial understanding of who i am as a person and what i want from the future 👌

The last half a year was, well, ew. Yikes. But it made me realize just how bad MaDD was influencing my life, anddd now i am struggling with getting out of my head into the real world. I have no means of getting therapy in nearest future but i learned that expressing myself through art and writing kinda helps. I am planning to share some of it on this blog! Hope that some people will find it relatable at least or maybe even helpful (￣ ³￣)

My goal is to get rid of the 'maladaptive' part and learn to control my daydreaming

So yeah, here's my MaDD and other issues related blog that i'll use to keep tabs on my journey out of my swamp-like mental state!

(And then she didn't)

[hyacinthi-mortem]

Anderperry fluff- wizard!Neil

I wrote most of this while in the car lol, I hope u enjoy :p

Info:

• this au is set 10 years later than the original dps, so they would've gone to hellton in 1969, I wanted to be able to use Bowie

• songs used are Lady Stardust and Soul Love by David Bowie

• there's another wizard!Neil au post that will help the first part make a bit more sense if you haven't already seen it but it's not necessary to understand this

——————————————————————————

June 1974

The smell of fresh pancakes wafting through the air shakes Todd from his sleepy daze, and he stumbles out of bed, drawing the blanket closer like an oversized cloak as he walks towards the door, and watches as a tendril of soft blue light flips the record over and gently sets it down, the needle falling into place, and listens for the sound of static taking over the silence before the first notes of a song invade Neil's brain, mixing with the magic flowing through his veins as he cooks.

On the windowsill Neil's cat Oberon basks in the sunlight, fur shining a coppery brown, and the golden blur cast across the kitchen highlighting the warm yellows of the walls against the pale greens of tiles, a harsh shadow cast against the backsplash behind Neil as he sways, a soft smile gracing his lips.

A gentle blue light surrounds the bowl of batter and pours it into the cast iron pan resting on the stove, as Neil begins to chop fruit, the sweet smell lingering in the air, quietly singing along as he does.

'People stared, at the makeup on his face, laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace...'

Todd smiles, leaning on the doorframe as he listens to neil sing, and the soft hum of his magic fills his senses. In that moment, to him, the air feels alive, electricity pulsing through it and settling around him; he can almost imagine tendrils and coils of warm blue light reaching towards him, embracing him, and drawing him in deeper, and deeper, until he is surrounded by it, by the part of Neil he could never have believed was real.

'That maybe there was a chance Neil could, the boy he could never have believed would maybe, just maybe love him like that too.'

'...Boys stood upon their chairs

To make their point of view

I smiled sadly for a love

I could not obey

Lady Stardust sang his songs

Of darkness and dismay...'

He relaxes, and as he watches the scene unfold Oberon steps down from his perch, and pads over to Todd, bringing Neil's attention with him. And even after all this time, in the soft light Todd thinks he can see the hawthorn crown gracing Neil's head, the summer sun lighting up his face and bringing with it a sparkle in his eyes that feels like all the stars in the sky are shining just for him.

"Todd! I didn't see you there, I-"

Neil smiles, a sheepish grin plastered on his face as he realised he's been caught.

"This was supposed to be a surprise." He laughs, and walks over to Todd, brushing the soft blond hair from his eyes as he leads him into the kitchen, humming along to the music in the background.

"Well who wouldn't love to wake up to you cooking breakfast" Todd smiles as Neil brushes the hair off his face, and if he notices his fingertips linger just a moment longer than they usually would be doesn't let it slip.

He pulls a chair out and lets the blanket slip from his shoulders as Neil turns the stove off, bringing to the table plates laden with berries and pancakes, and the blue haze of his magic surrounding them slowly disappears into the morning.

Conversation fills the air as they eat, and he just can't get enough of that soft lilt to Neil's voice, Todd could hear him talk for hours on end, letting the feeling of contentment wash over him like magic, as he gazes into those caramel eyes

----------------------------------

Curled up on an armchair after a long day of dealing with customers, Todd sips at a cup of peppermint tea, steam fogging up his reading glasses when he lifts the mug to his face. After setting the tea down he takes the glasses off, rubbing the sleeve of his (Neil's) jumper over the lenses; watching over the top of his book as Neil sets up the record player, as he lifts the needle and drops it in place, listening for the faint crackle before a song begins to play.

Once again music fills the room, various candles dotted around flicker to life, and Todd relaxes, the faint glow of candlelight setting his mind at ease.

"Dance with me?"

He glances up in surprise as Neil stands in front of him, a hand outstretched that he takes with ease-

"Always."

As he's led into the center of the room, book abandoned on the side, the music gets louder, the soft blue light of Neil's magic surrounding them as Neil's arms wrap around Todd's waist, while they begin to sway together, the evening slowly fading away as they dance and sing, Todd's eyes reflecting the golden stars that are blinking into existence above their heads, stars that are just for him,he thinks, as he smiles and leans into Neil's gentle embrace listening to him sing along, voices merging together in the flickering light until they collapse to the floor, exhausted, and lay together, a tangled pile of legs and arms with his head on Neil's chest listening to his heartbeat while the record plays along into the night.

'New love, a boy and girl are talking

New words, that only they can share in

New words, a love so strong it tears their hearts

To sleep through the fleeting hours of morning'

Todd thinks, 'maybe, just maybe, in this moment they could live forever.'

----------------------------------

[steve0discusses]

Live Action Fullmetal Alchemist Pt 2: Winry

OK, it appears tumblr will let me edit a draft again (yay!) So I can go ahead and quickly edit this post I made long ago, before this corona situation, when I was just...so happy...all of the time.

Anyway, it starts out with meeting a villain

So like, I don’t want to step on the toes of one of the biggest and most highly regarded fandoms but Lust wears more clothes than Envy and only seduced one idiot and yet her defining trait is that she’s Lust?

Just seems like she could’ve been more lusty.

And yeah she’s the first to die so it’s not like she had much time, but like, is she Lust just because she’s a lady with boobs? Boobs make you Lust? I see boobs every time I look in a mirror, and I’m pretty sure I’ve worn less clothes than lust on multiple occasions and I am a very prudish person. Whatever, that said, lets get to the good stuff, that’s right, it’s a train, this is what we’re all here for, step aside, Lust and your boobs, we want that good train action.

Damn look at that train. Look at that good train.

Last we left off, Al was cleaning up the mess Ed made, although I’m pretty sure in the anime, Ed could easily fix this stuff in like half a second. But in the movie, they removed that particular alchemy superpower and just kind of leave the town wrecked and go “sorry guys, we’re gonna just leave it like this so we can hold it over Ed later, sorry about the fruit stand. We gotta get realllll catty with my older brother.”

Which is when we introduce Winry.

So like...you can’t really tell from here but they decided to put rivets on everything Winry wears and that’s about all we have here to make her into the Winry I recognize, and that’s OK. It’s OK they stepped away from blonde. They were just so completely exhausted after how many times they had to stick Ed’s braid back on that they just...gave up. However, she is absolutely wearing fake bangs. Just throwing that out there, it’s not a bad look, and I’m a little jealous of them, but no one has bangs like that naturally, as a person who tried Zooey Deschenel bangs for 6 years.

And also--I got a comment on the last post that apparently a lot of Ed’s hair is REAL and they dyed it for the movie. I don’t know which parts exactly, I feel very suspicious of The Braid, but...that is so unfortunate.

So, lets see what Ed’s been up to, considering he left about 5 minutes ago.

(read more under the cut)

Yeah. Just don’t think about it. Maps don’t exist in this movie. It’s a little rough coming from the anime which was pretty map heavy, but this movie says “nah” to maps. This map doesn’t exist. The whole thing where they were making a big alchemy circle out of Amestris? Not a thing anymore, don’t think about it.

Ed and his substitute Dad, Roy Mustang, are too busy fighting about Ed’s only motivation in this movie. This scene happened in the anime as well, and it was sort of different, but again this movie has to abridge a hell ton of content so this is what we got.

Enter, Hughes.

So Hughes is great. Easily one of the best characters in the anime, who only exists just to die, and they made him just as likeable in this movie. This actor was clearly really jazzed to play a soon to be dead Hughes and he did a great job. Course, it’s a pretty wacky Hughes, but that’s fine, this is a weirdly wacky movie.

Also now this guy is here.

(and sorry to let you all down but Ed’s Real Dad or Ed’s Real Dad’s Clone does not even appear in this movie. I know. You might be wondering...so what else is left when you remove...all of that...don’t worry. We’ll get there.)

General Hakuro, I had to look up, because I had completely forgotten who this tool was. But it didn’t really matter, because in their attempt to shorten the anime, Hakuro ends up taking the part of like 10 other people in the original. I mean yeah, you gotta edit, but I just didn’t expect all those people to be played by the part of Hakuro.

No one expects the twists to be honest, it’s...it’s really freakin weird.

Anyways, at least we get to enjoy some Hughes time before he kicks it and this actor will absolutely get his Hughes fill out of every line because he knows he’ll be dead by Act 2. Ah Hughes, the worst spy. I love Hughes. This movie did such a good Hughes.

Listen I know that Winry and Ed are BELOVED. But like, I didn’t feel it in the anime. Be aware of my shipping immunity--I am sort of stone cold and I haven’t really shipped any fictional couples in my entire life. I have to really get sold on a ship to go for a ship, it’s just my weird superpower to be immune to shipping. I’m weird.

But I totally get that Ed and Winry are very beloved and so if you ship it, that’s wonderful. All ships are welcome here. However, this is a very different Ed and Winry dynamic. They’re actually attracted to each other from the get go and their dialogue is playful and they sync up really well like a married couple. And, they do all that without having Ed ignore her until she’s about to die and without any awkward underboob sequences (which was actually very funny in the anime, I’m not gonna lie). And again, this is entirely personal preference, but they do the bare minimum and it worked for me way better than the anime had in 50+ episodes.

Maybe it’s not for everyone, this, again, is just personal preference but...you do not need to torture your female protagonist to turn her into a romantic interest, you just have to have your characters romantically interested in each other. That’s really it. That’s the science. Yet, so many shows refuse to do the bare minimum.

Bear in mind, we also cover Yugioh here, so I might just be getting excited to actually cover a legit romance in a recap for once in my life that isn’t laced with so many bodies/cursed paper cards.

Also, while I make jokes about the sister vibes in the recap--the movie totally dropped any indication that they had been raised in the same house for a while (unlike the anime, which liked to remind you a lot).

Meanwhile, the General is having a really great conversation with himself and it’s like...all over the place. Maybe it was a translation error but this dialogue was kind of a mess.

props to this actor for doing a really good “Oh no she stabbed me through the head!” face. I imagine this face was half his audition. It’s good.

Anyways, as this guy gets eaten alive, Gluttony’s shadow reveals it has a hellton of teeth coming out of it’s stomach. I remember these teeth being a really neat reveal in the anime because it was like halfway through the series, but like, I think this movie kinda expects you to have already seen the anime, so they didn’t really bother hiding this.

Don’t worry we get to see real CGI teeth later and it is *bad*

By bad I mean really good.

Anyways, if you’re new here, I freakin love prop food and I will always take like a good minute to admire any food that is on set.

Like it’s pretty blurry but I’m pretty sure there’s two soups and two salads. Maybe they just decided to raid the actor’s buffet table for this scene but it’s just a really random assortment and also a really huge ass buffet for like 4 people since Al doesn’t eat.

Hughes’ cute girl was written out of the script but I don’t blame them because wow how many bad child actors do you need? That does mean we don’t get the sweet scene of Hughes pulling out his gun at a children’s birthday party, but this movie does have to end at some point so yes, the cute child antics got cut.

Much like moooooost of the people in this cast. At this point I’m just accepting it and moving forward.

Anyway, here’s a link you can click to read all of these in chrono order. There’s just 2 of them. I only have 2 left before I actually have to start watching this movie again so...hopefully by then I’ll...be better adjusted from this quarantine burn out I’ve been dealing with.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/FMA/chrono

[hobbitinthetardis]

this suddenly came to me when i was emoting in the tags of another post and i dunno if anyone else has thought of this yet bUT WHAT I F?

i mean, vacuum cleaner obviously has a hellton of moonshadow elves in there other than the assassins so,,, it would make sense if that’s where he put her parents. that’s why there were no bodies and why they thought ALL members of the dragon guard had run away.

[mothytism]

@promose im unable to properly “at” you for some reason, but wanted to say thank you for the suggestion and advice!

my mom has an Android, though I’m not sure which one, and I had a really difficult time with her phone because the screen sensitivity was so different... she needed help because all her photos were being automatically facetuned and she couldn’t turn it off, and I had to be so slow and deliberate as I searched for a solution because if I tapped like I would on an iPhone it wasn’t recognized at all, but if I tapped harder it would only interpret it as an attempt to scroll instead of clicking, and the only way to click was to tap and hold for an extremely specific amount of time because holding for any longer did something else too...

it only just occurred to me that even though anything I get will probably be purchased online so I find a good price, going into a Best Buy or similar to just try out the floor models they have available is probably a good idea. lots of hand sanitizer required after, as pandemic and all, but that’ll go far to at least ease uncertainty.

also, off-topic, there’s an absolute hellton of obvious TERFs in the notes of this post for some reason (by their URLs), so free blocklist

I am sorry. I’m bashing Apple here. And for good reason.

This is a plea to my followers.

Stop buying Apple products. I know you’ve used them for most of your life, and I know it’s inconvenient to move to a new brand because in most cases, you cannot take your contacts with you on various chat apps.

I know this is inconvenient. I truly do.

But Apple is not the company it was before. There is now no difference between an Apple computer and a Windows computer in terms of graphic design. I know this for a fact. I had to use both in college 20 years ago, and non-apple computers are now generally better for design work than Apple computers.

Most non-apple companies encourage self-repair of your own devices, while Apple refuses it. I also know this for a fact, as I watched Apple computers become slowly less reparable through the late 90s and early 2000s. Where I was once able to do the repairs on our office computers, we had to start sending out our Apple devices because they started gluing things down on their logic boards. Notably the glue they used was not heat-resistant and led to device damage should the heat sink system fail. But they did this because they wanted to dig more money out of their customers.

Apple software is also designed to fail. I cannot believe people are still buying new devices after the scandal where Apple was slowing their phones in order to force people to purchase new versions.

Apple hardware is designed to become obsolete. Motherboards and logic boards are designed to hold exactly what comes attached to them and will fail if upgrade attempts are made.

Apple refuses to work with software developers despite promises of cross-compatibility. One of the very first coding problems I discovered was to discover a gigantic hole in a software program that made a plotter (giant printer) compatible with iOS. This caused a memory leak, leading to necessary resets of the computer after every 2 feet of printing.

I know that it’s not possible for most of you to just throw your devices away and buy a new one. I wouldn’t be able to do that, either. But eventually there will come a time when you have to upgrade, and I encourage you to take the plunge and purchase a non-apple device. I don’t even have a recommendation for you because literally anything is better than Apple. A rock that you write on is better than an Apple phone.

Unfortunately I expect to be shadow-banned on Apple devices because of this, and I’ll try to report on decreased activity as much as I can.

It’s time to stop trying to beg Apple to change. They won’t. It’s time now to just stop supporting Apple.