#said we simply won't discuss it and watch sth else

[dirhwangdaseul-archived]

a rant

man y'all lead some real weird boring ivory tower lives with very little thought into your morality like very superficial morals really, i always knew the bl fandom was like that to more often than not the point of amorality with how easy they participate in certain dynamics supposedly in the name of fiction and romance, a conversation for another day like you ever think you could have more out of the text you're being given? cause man every damn time there's a bl with a dynamic of power that involves labor, consent is never part of the conversation, like is it even possible for palm to consent, is it even sth they can call part of the reality of the couple's love with how much the world is gonna try to tear palm and nuengdiao apart, like how does the commentary on labor escape the discussion of the messages of the series proper of what that means for two people to have to participate in said dynamics by force with one being less in the eyes of an empire than that of the king he protects... nor is it participant in the conversation what it means for a character to diminish themselves for the hierarchy of that empire which is maintained through the power money entails like ever, and being quite honest it's not isolated to bl using this kind of setting that this happens, years of romance exist before yaoi, where bl has its roots and which ofc simply borrows from straight romance things we still see in the feminization of one side of the couple but also a conversation for another day...

like, this all to say that i saw someone call nueng's mom a good mother in the tags man and i had a moment of why are stories never understood to be the sum of its parts rather than one isolated moment, and i really had to double check it was the actual never let me go tag because i don't think we're watching the same show people, i think you're showing how much you have sold yourselves to romanticizing capitalism and the hierarchies it creates to the extent you don't see or think about what it really means for palm to have to become subservient to someone else's literal life, to have to give up his life because another's is being held above his own, that palm knows that he will always be less than nueng whether nueng wants to accept the circumstances of their reality or not, and that nueng keeps wilfully ignoring it.

that this has been plotted by their parents together escapes you in its full magnitude like so much of what palm's dad does to palm flows from tanya, just because she's warm to nueng while she tells him that his life and worth are forever tied to an empire that has taken over the lands and livelihoods of thousands of people? it doesn't erase the weight of her entitlement, control, and thus her power, and that instead of creating trust in her own family, she decides to burn all bridges to isolate nuengdiao while also pronouncing the treatment of palm as a servant like i don't know where to fault the writers and where to fault the character because i believe a good dose of self awareness would serve either in trying to convince me and palm that his life is worth less than the money that is gonna be given to his father or to him before palm indeed has to die for nueng like if he turns i won't wonder why because idc there's no universe in which one life can be traded for some capitalist bitch's ambitions, this isn't even the mafia which entails cult like understanding as well of a rough world and trading one's life for some fucked up higher purpose, and like even there it's some sick shit to feed romance, like tbh the world has to justify it for me at least, but there the violence of what they have created justifies in some level laying one life for another person like the understanding of that higher purpose, but here for nueng and palm, here where money is so visible as the root of despair and separation.... palm doesn't get to have that fucking luxury, not in this story, he's falling for the charm of his charge, sadly, the romance is there for him baiting his very innocent understanding of life, how could it not bloom and be in him in such fucked up circumstances where nothing yields love for him, and yet, yet a part of him screams... servant... for he understands his degradation whether nueng sees it yet or not

SERVANT... one of the two in this sweet sweet sweet couple is dehumanizing himself in the performance of his labor AND the romance being joined together, his worth is tied to someone that sees him from the outside, but who chooses to obscure his eyes to who he really is, like again this is part of this supposed romance, palm's participating happily in his own dehumanization and somehow i'm meant to find the romance in how little control palm seems to have of his life and how much the creation of meaning is coming from nueng like it's insane how this commentary is there, the creation of a soulmate of a sick and twisted fairytale, and yet i do see some of you acting like the divine right of kings when it comes to nueng's position and his blindness towards that power, and just because tanya sells it with a warm smile and kind words doesn't make the destruction of land or the dehumanization of her workforce any less fucked up, tanya accepted her son, good for her, that should be the norm make no fucking mistake tho, but honestly let's go back to thinking into the fucking structure of the story, what choice does she has anyway i wonder???? when she has denied other families into her own, when she has denied her own family, so now even a tension now runs between chopper and nuengdiao over it, tanya is not a good mother, and honestly with the way the grayness of the show and jojo tichakorn's other works usually go....

i would just stop trying to categorize the characters as good or bad if you even believe there's such a way to see people in general, cause man live long enough to know you get the chances to be all, and like that's what gets me about fandom and stories like this, since for example where your eyes linger which clearly laid out freedom as the only means for this romance to work with a happy ending and not some romanticized worker abuse and people still preferred the power dynamic to thrive over getting to a moment in which both characters could consent freely in their meeting, and like i wish we actually got a better characterization for palm till this week when maggie stepped in finally to talk some sense into him because boy was he just reacting to everything only and he keeps falling for the beauty of his charge without caring for himself, like with all the messages of anti capitalism id expect a more critical view of the levels of the relationships and what their carefully crafted images present to us that's all like that's all im saying, my thoughts in the end but honestly i just don't believe tanya to be a good woman, she's just warm and kind in her life, but that hides how much she and her husband fucked up and are leaving an empire of shit to nuengdiao, i honestly hope he and palm get out, but most importantly i want nuengdiao to wake up to the fucked up amount of power he has, like for once i'd also like the writers to take this shit seriously if they're also gonna refer to real world politics...

[massivedrickhead]

For the prompt thing and with hope you will feel better - Beca is dyslexic and is having trouble at the rehearsals, she won't say what is wrong even though girls keep asking or sth like that, then Chloe confronting her about it and a lot of fluff?

Hi, thank you for sending this prompt. I think this might be the third time I’ve received this prompt, so I’m assuming they’re all from you? I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it. I’ll be honest, the reason I haven’t done this prompt yet is because I don’t know too much about dyslexia, and I didn’t want to make anything that was insensitive or inaccurate. I hope I’ve been able to do this with sensitivity.

If I haven’t please tell me and I’ll take it down.

Anyway, thank you for the prompt. Enjoy.

This was a mistake, Beca thought, looking down at the sheet of paper Aubrey had just handed her. 

Her leg was vibrating and she got that familiar drop in her stomach as she tried to focus on the words on the page in front of her.

“Please make sure this gets filled out and handed back to me by the end of rehearsal,” Aubrey said. 

Beca cast her eyes around the room to see the other girls all writing, and her eyes turned back to her own paper. 

She tried to make herself focus, tried to make herself read each word so she could complete this form, but the words began swimming together as they so often did, and Beca felt herself getting frustrated. She felt the heat of embarrassment on the back of her neck, felt it spread to her face.

Focus, she told herself. 

But by the time her eyes had travelled to the bottom of the page, she realised she hadn’t taken in a word of it.

“Okay, break’s over!” Aubrey called, and Beca shoved the paper in to her bag. She could complete it tonight and bring it in on their next rehearsal.

The rehearsal went smoothly after that. Beca was grateful she already knew the words to the song they were signing, so she didn’t have to rely on the print-out Chloe had handed her.

“I’ll see you ladies tomorrow morning for our next rehearsal,” Aubrey said, after finally calling an end.

“Tomorrow?” Beca asked. “I have to work tomorrow.”

Aubrey sighed. “What does it say on the whiteboard Beca?” She gestured to the scribbled green ink which supposedly laid out the Bellas’ plans for victory.

Beca looked, and again felt that twist in her stomach. Her mouth went dry and her throat seemed to close up. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly.

“Well?” Aubrey snapped.

“It says a lot of stuff,” Beca replied, her temper getting the better of her. “Tell me which bit is supposed to be important.”

She heard a slow intake of breath coming from the other girls around her.

“You’re a braver woman than I am,” Cynthia Rose muttered.

“We rehearse every day,” Aubrey said, jabbing her finger against the board. 

“Okay,” Beca said. “I’m just saying, I have work tomorrow, could we rehearse after?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, preventing what she knew would be tirade of abuse from Aubrey. “What time do you finish?”

“12 pm,” Beca said.

“Perfect,” Chloe replied, grinning. “We’ll start rehearsals at one, if that’s okay with everyone else?”

Everyone else agreed, and they all began to file out of the auditorium.

“Beca,” Aubrey called, looking down at a stack of papers in her hand. “You didn’t give me your sheet.”

“Oh,” Beca said, wondering once again why she was putting herself through this. “I didn’t finish filling it out. I can bring it tomorrow.”

Aubrey raised her eyebrows. “I said I needed it today.”

“It’s fine, Beca,” Chloe said, cutting Aubrey off again. “Just bring it tomorrow.”

Beca shot Chloe a grateful smile, and headed out of the door.

Back in her dorm room, Beca pulled out the sheet of paper Aubrey had wanted her to fill out. She pulled a notebook out of her bag, and slipped the paper behind the sheet of transparent yellow plastic that was clipped into her notebook.

Slowly, the words began to make sense to her, and she filled out the sheet as best she could.

She filled out her name, date of birth, email address and phone number. She listed her allergies, dietary requirements, and gave her clothing sizes so they could order a Bellas uniform for her.

At the end there was a box asking if there was anything else the co-captains needed to be aware of. If there was any medical conditions or disabilities or even learning difficulties that would impact Beca’s ability to rehearse or perform, and if there were any special requirements that they could put in place to help her.

Beca had a suspicion this question had been put in by Chloe.

She tapped her pen against the page, chewing her bottom lip as she thought.

Then she folded the paper in half, and slipped it back into her bag, deciding they didn’t need to know. 

After, she spent some time listening to a lecture she’d recorded that morning. She opened up a word document, and made notes of time codes of when her professor talked about something she’d need later, so she’d be able to find it when studying.

By the time she was finished, her eyes were burning and her head was aching. She shut the screen of her laptop, lay back in bed, and found her thoughts landing on Chloe. She couldn’t help but smile.

The redhead had protected her against Aubrey’s wrath in rehearsal. She had looked out for her at the hood night party, making sure she was okay and that she wasn’t getting bothered by Trebles or frat boys.

She knew if there was anyone she could trust with her secret, it would be Chloe.

Without meaning to, her mind wandered to that night in the shower, and she felt her cheeks burn.

She put on some music, and tried to forget about how good Chloe had looked. How good she had sounded.

When that didn’t work, she sat back at her desk, and pulled up her mixing software.

This she knew how to do.

Where words made her feel frustrated and embarrassed, music made her feel free. She understood the waveforms of a sound better than the she would ever understand a written word.

As the two tracks began to blend together, she forgot about everything else.

Everything… except Chloe.

———

“Have you got your form?” Aubrey asked as Beca filed into rehearsal the next afternoon.

Beca pulled the folded sheet from her bag and handed it over.

“Thank you,” Aubrey said, her eyes scanning the page to make sure she hadn’t missed a question. “You were born in 1999?”

“’96,” Beca said.

“Ah ha,” Aubrey said, correcting the form with her pen. “And you’re allergic to ‘dees’?”

A rush of heat travelled up Beca’s back, across her neck and made its way to her face in seconds.

“Bees,” she muttered.

She waited for Aubrey’s snarky comment that she knew must be coming. Waited for that cruel laughter from the other girls that she had heard so often at school. 

No laughter came however, and after correcting the spelling error on her form, Aubrey dropped it onto the pile with the other girls’. 

Feeling rattled and on edge, Beca went the rest of rehearsal without drawing attention to herself.

She didn’t bite back at Aubrey when she made comments about Beca’s dance ability, or her ‘ear monstrosities’, and she didn’t complain about the outdated song or the lame choreography. When Fat Amy showed her a string of messages on her phone from some guy she was seeing, Beca just smiled and nodded rather than try and struggle through reading them, and she kept just as quiet when Jessica and Ashley started a heated debate about which Hogwarts house was the best.

“You’re quiet today Bec,” Cynthia Rose said as they started packing up to leave. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, surprised she had noticed. “It’s just, you know, a lot. Not used to being around this many people with such strong Harry Potter opinions.”

Cynthia Rose smiled, and nudged her. “Us Slytherins gotta stick together, right?” 

“Aren’t they the bad guys?”

Cynthia Rose laughed again and shook her head. “Only if you listen to JKR, and she doesn’t know shit.”

Beca smiled liked she’d understood, and Cynthia Rose left with a wave. She hadn’t read Harry Potter as a child, and had had no desire to read it as a teenager, or watch any of the movies.

She was aware she was missing a world wide phenomenon, but her disdain for popular culture had made it easy for her to pretend that she hadn’t read these books out of choice, and not out of a deep seated fear that she wouldn’t be able to.

It was how she avoided Twilight discussions in high school, when her friends had bombarded her with questions about Edward Vs Jacob. She’d simply replied that it was all lame, and they’d stopped asking for her opinions. 

Beca hadn’t realised she’d gotten lost in her own head again, and was simply staring into space, half-way through packing up to leave.

“Earth to Beca?” Chloe said, waving a hand in front of her.

“Sorry,” Beca said, shaking her head slightly.

“Did you go somewhere nice?” Chloe asked. Beca tilted her head in confusion. Chloe tapped her on the forehead. “When you disappeared up there.”

“Oh,” Beca said, laughing. “There’s nothing nice up there, trust me.” She slung her bag over her shoulder.

“You did good today,” Chloe said, walking with Beca as they left the auditorium,

“You’re a very sweet liar,” Beca scoffed.

“You did! I know Aubrey gave you a hard time, but she’s just really obsessive. She wants us to be perfect. She wants to redeem herself,” Chloe said.

“I guess I’d want that too,” Beca replied, remembering the video she’d watched of Aubrey’s last Bellas performance.

“What are you up to right now?” Chloe asked as they walked.

“Nothing,” Beca said. 

“You wanna grab dinner?”

“Sure,” Beca replied, trying to stop her grin from overtaking her face.

They arrived at a diner, and the waitress who seated them handed Beca a menu.

She gave it a cursory glance, recognised they sold burgers, and put the menu down.

Chloe studied it for a little longer, her bottom lip caught in her teeth as she read down the list. She glanced up at Beca. “Do I get cheese fries or sweet potato fries?”

“Is that even a question?”

“You’re right,” Chloe said, looking back down. “Cheese fries. Always cheese fries.”

Beca laughed.

“What are we having then?” The waitress asked, holding out a notepad.

“BLT with a side order of cheese fries, please,” Chloe said, still looking down at her menu. “Oh, and a strawberry milkshake.”

“Can I get a burger with fries and a coke please?” Beca asked.

“What kind of burger?”

“Sorry?”

“We have like five different kinds,” the waitress said, pointing to the burger section on the menu.

“Right,” Beca said, a nervous laugh escaping her as she looked at the menu, trying to make sense of the words that were now jumbling together.

“Can you give us another minute to decide?” Chloe asked, when enough time had elapsed for the waitress to begin to look impatient. 

Beca’s cheeks were burning when she felt Chloe tap her foot with her own. 

“You want me to tell you what kind they have?” Chloe asked.

“I can read them,” Beca said, her voice coming out harsher than she’d intended. “I’m not stupid.”

“I know that,” Chloe said. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”

Beca sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” She rubbed her hand against her forehead. 

“I didn’t mean to imply you were stupid, or that you couldn’t read,” Chloe said. “I’m sorry if I’m out of line here, but… You’re dyslexic, right?”

Beca’s head shot up. “How did you…”

“My brother is, and my dad,” Chloe said. “You mixed up your d’s and b’s and your 9’s and 6’s on your information sheet. You looked like you were struggling to fill it in during rehearsal, which is why I’m guessing you took it home? And when Aubrey asked you to read something from the whiteboard, you got kinda defensive.”

Beca ran a hand through her hair. “You’re pretty observant,” she said.

“You can call it like it is, I’m a bit of a creep,” Chloe said, smiling when she heard Beca laugh. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about it, it’s pretty common.”

“That didn’t stop me from getting teased in school when I couldn’t read aloud or when I failed every spelling test. The fact that it’s common didn’t stop my dad from calling me stupid every chance he got, or stop my teachers saying I needed to try harder or -” she swallowed, trying not to cry, “or saying I was slow.”

“They shouldn’t have said that,” Chloe said, her voice soft. “None of them should have said any of that.” She took Beca’s hand, and then saw the waitress making her way over. “What kind of burger do you want?”

“Cheese and bacon?”

“BBQ sauce?”

“No,” Beca said, pulling a face.

“She’ll have the classic with bacon, thanks,” Chloe said, before the waitress could ask.

“With fries?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Thank you,” she added, once the waitress had left.

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed about needing help, Beca. People need help with all kinds of things, nobody is born perfect,” Chloe said.

“Easy for you to say,” Beca said. “Look at you.”

Chloe cocked her head. “I had to wear headgear at school, because my teeth were overcrowded and my jaw was misaligned. I had to wear it for three years, can you imagine how often I got picked on for that? My lab partner Joe had scoliosis as a kid, so he had to wear a back brace. My sister had to wear a patch to correct a lazy eye. My brother, my dad, my uncle, my bio professor, all have dyslexia. Aubrey’s brother has ADHD. My mom had bi-polar,” Chloe said, her voice taking on a kind of fierceness as she listed these people off. “Everyone needs help with something, and receiving it isn’t a sign of weakness. It isn’t something you should feel embarrassed about.”

Beca looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know dyslexia is common. I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it, but I do. I can just remember being a kid and having to stand in front of a class, trying to read out loud. The other kids would giggle and sometimes the teacher would too. They’d shove books at me, or write mean stuff on notes, and tell me to read them.” Beca wiped away a stray tear. “And my dad…” She shook her head. “Well… the less said about him the better.”

Chloe squeezed her hands again. “You don’t have to make life harder for yourself by refusing to let people help you. I’m sorry that you had to go through all that growing up, but the Bellas aren’t going to be like that. Aubrey will understand if you need lyrics sheets to be printed on different paper or with a different font. She’ll get it if you’d rather we told you information instead of writing it down for you to read it.” Beca scoffed again. “Beca, she knows. The second she saw your d’s and b’s mixed up, she understood. She can be a bit intense, but she isn’t a cruel person. Why do you think we put that question on the form?”

“I figured you put it there,” Beca mumbled.

Chloe shook her head. “It was her idea. I agreed, obviously, but she thought of it. Look, I won’t tell anyone about this. I won’t even confirm Aubrey’s suspicions. But I promise, only good things will come of you being open with us. Won’t it be easier to not have to hide this?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, still looking uncomfortable. “That’ll be good. But… I”m just not good at sharing. I’m not good at being open and vulnerable.”

“What if I told them?”

Beca met her eyes and nodded, ever so slightly, and the waitress brought over their food.

“Okay,” Chloe said. “I’ll take care of it. We don’t have to talk about this heavy stuff anymore.”

“Thank you,” Beca said, feeling like a weight had been lifted. “Oh, by the way, when I called you perfect earlier? I was trying to flirt with you.”

Chloe grinned. “I know you were.”