#seeing grown adults with the “i HATE kids” mentality is so scary | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qqueenofhades · 5 years ago

Note

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all).

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

#politics for ts #long post #anonymous #ask

20K notes · View notes

ghostietea · 4 years ago

Text

Ok, with Yuki's backstory episode being out, I have some thoughts. To me, Yuki's backstory is one of the scariest parts of the manga and it just seems worse the older I get so I want to organize some of my thoughts on why.

We see Yuki's backstory from his perspective, so on first read you see the story from the view of a child caught in this horrible situation. It's scary and confusing already even without looking into the implications. Yuki was isolated and abandoned with his absolutely terrifying relative that regularly verbally abused him from a young age. He's locked up in that dark room with little hope until he was already a TEENAGER, and we see this affecting him throughout the story.

When reading this, it seems like there's a clear villain. Akito is a terrifying figure in Yuki's life, and looking from Yuki's perspective it's very easy to hate her or at least be very disturbed.

But isn't Akito also a little kid?

When you look at it the first time, the black paint scene is just another incident in a long line of terrible grievances. But when you go back as an older person... that's a young child having a horrible mental breakdown that we know very well she does not recover from. I will stand by this: Akito in the current timeline is old enough that she is 100% responsible for her actions and anyone is free to hate her. But Akito here even with her status is a child and she COULD have been talked down at this point, someone could have done SOMETHING. But nobody does anything. Because she's God and can do no wrong. Because nothing she's doing is against tradition. Because the Sohma are a cult and they don't see Yuki OR Akito as anything more than their roles.

In the end, the scariest part is the sheer level of adult apathy. None of them care, none of them do ANYTHING until Shigure years later. This is fine to them, they are fine with treating him as an object. This is the part where you really realize that the Sohma ARE 100% A CULT. Yuki's situation is made a hundred times worse by the fact that his abuser is another traumatized child who is enabled by an entire family of grown ass adults that could have done something to help both of them. Anyway, fuck the Sohma adults.

#fruits basket #yuki sohma #akito sohma #meta #fruits basket spoilers #yes this a repost from my twt thread shhhh

108 notes · View notes

princessmadafu · 4 years ago

Text

37 bleedin’ pages!

I have condensed them for you and left out most of the bits that the nasty evil British Press have already covered. Feel free to skip any boring bits.

Dax Shepard: Welcome, welcome, welcome to Armchair Expert's Experts on Expert. I'm Dan Shepard. I'm joined by Monica Mouse.

Monica Padman: Hi.

[...]

There follows some heavy marketing of towels and stuff...

DS: Now please enjoy Prince Harry. We are supported by Brookelinen. My favourite hotel quality sheets to get into and writhe around in the nude. [...] They're impeccable. They're decadent, they're soft, they're absorbent. Brookelinen was started to create beautiful high quality home essentials that don't cost an arm and a leg. They're so confident in their product, they come with a 365 day warranty. So give yourself that comfort refresh you deserve and get it for less. Go to Brookelinen.com and use promo code 'expert' to get $20 off with a minimum purchase of $100. That's Brookelinen.com and enter promo code 'expert' for $20 off with a minimum purchase of $100. That's Brookelinen.com, promo code 'expert'.

Pretty ironic really, as Harry wades into fake news and how advertising algorithms are ruining us...

DS:...It's like the algorithms on the internet. You can't compete with that, a human.

PH: You can't if you have the awareness of what it's doing to you. And the fact that it's learning, which is scary. And advertising has been going on for hundreds of years, but done really responsibly. The difference here is targeted ads. If ads have always worked for companies, you can put on the TV, you can walk away, you can come back, your involvement is switching on switching off or changing the channel. Whereas now with algorithms is there, it's just feeding your habits. And it's also reading through your emails and everything else. So it's getting to know you, like, it gets to know the decisions you're gonna make before you make them, then it creates this echo chamber of no pushback, of no context of nothing. It's just perpetuating and feeding the bias and the habits that you already have inside of you, which is terrible.[...]

Harry needs to learn about AdBlock and Ghostery and VPNs and Tor and DuckDuckGo and Smartpage and all the other clever little ways the computer-literate have of ridding their lives of unwanted advertising. I haven't seen an ad in years. The only person feeding my habits is me. It’s called personal responsibility. Maybe Harry still needs a Nanny but most grown-ups don’t. Oh wait, I forgot, the “Meghan&Harry Show” fans are all kids.

PH: [...] It's a computer. It's like, who wrote the algorithms? You guys did? Probably all male and all white.

Oooh, let's be sexist and racist, Harry! Did you ever hear of these women or are they too scary?

https://biztechmagazine.com/article/2012/05/mothers-technology-10-women-who-invented-and-innovated-tech

Then they discuss Naked Vegas (this guy Dax has a thing about nudity) and Harry in Afghanistan. And discuss a calendar of naked men that DS and MP put together - their favourite male bodies. What a good job it's only gloating over naked male bodies and not naked female bodies. It's apparently acceptable, for some reason. Harry doesn't know who the guys are.

DS: Monica makes this for me every year and it's a calendar of all my favourite bodies of friends.

MP: And they're all men.

DS: They're all men.

MP: And they're all gorgeous bodies.

[...]

And is Harry nervous talking about mental health? He shouldn't be, he's been banging on about it for years.

PH: Yeah. Was I nervous? No. Not so much nervous. But I guess on this particular subject around mental health. Yeah. For me, it's always a, unfortunately, today's world is quite a sensitive subject, not just for the people who are sharing. But ultimately, the subject matter itself has to be handled with care. [...] It ends up getting weaponized by certain people.

Weaponised by certain people? Like him and Markle, for instance. Neither of 'em has any talent so they weaponise their mental health. Big big mental health bombs loaded with word salad to lob at their own families and cause huge distress. Not nice, Harry.

PH: That's how I've always felt when it comes to projection. I mean, hatred is a form of projection, right? [...] We're not born to hate people. So it manifests itself over a period of time. And of course, it can come from unresolved pain, or being hurt continually, as a young kid or through adult life. But ultimately, there's a source to it. There's a reason why you want to hate somebody else.

Like his dad, his brother...

PH: And actually have some compassion for them. Which is really hard when you're on the receiving end of this, like, just vile, toxic abuse. But the reality is, is you say, flip it. [...] Every single one of us wherever we are, wherever we come from, there will always try and find some way to be able to mask the actual feeling and be able to try and make us feel different to how we are actually feeling, perhaps having a feeling. Right, because so many people are just numb to it. That was a huge part of the beginning of my life, which was like, I rejected. I said, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine.

And now he's moved on to promoting his new mental health stuff with Oprah, The Me You Can't See...

PH: So if you are making that conscious decision to say: You know what, it's not self serving, but I want to share my story. I'm being asked to share my story to hopefully help someone or loads of other people. I'm probably going to get trolled. I'm probably going to get attacked by the same people that were doing anyway. If I'm willing to make that decision, surely that comes from a place of courage rather than weakness?

Or possibly naivety. Harry is only wanted for his money-making title and royal status; he has no mental health qualifications, he's not a mental health professional, he's not an expert, all he brings to the table is the glamour of being a prince of the BRF. Which he quite clearly hates. Markle is lining her pockets from their self-indulgent mental health whinge fest and he's too dim to see it. There follows the bit about the spectrum of upbringing that the press is covering nicely so I can skip the next few pages - the bits where Harry says he doesn't see that talking about his own issues is complaining, and “it's the job, right”, how he never wanted the job of being royal, and his therapy and how “massively self-critical” he is (yet still can't see that he's not being honest with himself), ooh and sharing his hatred of the British press - that's a good bit, let's skip to page 18:

PH I think the biggest issue for me was that being born into it, you inherit the risk, you inherit the risk that comes with it, you inherit every element of it without choice. And because of the way that the UK media are, they feel an ownership over you. Literally like a full on ownership. And then they give the impression to some of their, well, most of the readers, that that is the case. But I think it's a really dangerous place to be if you don't have a choice, but then, of course, then people quite rightly will turn around and go. So what if you didn't have a choice? It was privilege? [...] Page Six of the New York Post, they took pictures of my son being picked up from school on his first day [...] But I guess my point is the way that I look at it, especially now living here one hour outside LA. Like it's a feeding frenzy here. We spent the first three and a half months living at Tyler Perry's house. You let us stay. And the helicopter helicopters, the drones the paparazzi cutting the fence like it was madness. And people out there -Their response was, Well, what do you expect if you live in LA? It's like, Okay, well, first of all, we didn't mean to live in LA. This is like a staging area before we try and find a house. And secondly, how sad that if you live in LA and you're well known figure, you just have to accept it. The first security we had, I said, Well, where's the safest place? Inside. Just because I'm a well known person, you can't go outside anymore. [...] it's really, really sad. And of course, their argument is - the paparazzi and everybody else - is like all if you're in the public space, then it's absolutely fine for us to do it. So what is our human right as an individual and as a family, you're saying that if the moment we step foot out of our house, that it's open season and free game? What? Because of public interest?. There's no public interest in you taking your kids for a walk down the beach. Nothing...

And on and on it goes... He should've stayed in the UK then. The Cambridges are managing very nicely, thank you. They take their kids for walks on the beach, and we'd never seen them until they released their anniversary video the other week. Harry's clearly envious of William; Harry's mad wife is vitriolically envious of Catherine. Oh and I’m pretty sure it’s the mad wife who keeps phoning her go-to paps when she needs to be in the news again.

PH: [...] I believe we live in an age now where you've got certain elements of the media redefining to us what privacy means. There's a massive conflict of interest. And then you've got social media platforms, trying to redefine what free speech means. Why - I wonder why you're doing that. And again - so this has been happening for 15 years now. And we're living in this world where we've almost like all the laws have been completely flipped by the very people that need them flipped so they can make more money and they can capitalise off our pain, grief, and this sort of general self destructive mode that's happening at the moment [...]

He doesn't get how hypocritical this is, does he? The Markles are the ones capitalising on their grief, pain and the rest of it. And no-one would be interested in them without the royal bits because they have nothing else to offer. Failed actress and used-to-be-a-soldier wrapped up in festering bitterness.

Blah, blah... went shopping in a supermarket... saw lots of chewing gum... blah, blah... Archie on the back of his bicycle... girls want to be princesses... You don't need to be a princess, you can create the life that will be better than any princess or it's something along those lines... she said she expected [the press] to be fair... Pages and pages of how he hates the British press...

PH: [...] And especially when you can't defend yourself so yes, I think when you marry into it, especially when it's one Princess Diana's sons there is a certain amount of 'okay what I'm actually letting myself in for?' But very few people actually know - apart from the Brits - how toxic that element of the of the UK press is.[...]

We're up to page 24 now, if you're still with me. Oh here it is, Harry's unconscious bias... What’s the betting the mad wife has scripted this bit for him?

PH: [...] So going back to the whole sort of travelling around the Commonwealth, I thought I knew, right, having been able to travel that much and meet so many and such a diverse group of people. I thought I understood life. Especially bearing in mind most of the countries I was going to were, most of the communities are going to were people of colour. But then I was really shocked once I started doing therapy. And that bubble was burst. And I started doing my own work, really - a lot of work - and started to uncover and understand more about unconscious bias. And I was like, wow, I thought since I screwed up when I was younger, and then did the work. I thought I then knew. But I didn't. And I still don't fully know. It's like a constant working progress. And every single one of us has it. [...] Everyone has biases, of all sorts. But I think it's a really important point, especially now, after everything's happened in the last year and a half, like the world is changing, the younger generation are driving it. And you've got to like a multi-racial, cultural sort of movement happening, which has never happened before. But unconscious bias is the way that I understand it, is, again, it's not something that's wrong with you. Right? And you don't have to be defensive about it. That's the thing. No one's blaming you. But the moment that you acknowledge that you do have unconscious bias, what are you going to do about it? Because if you choose to do nothing you're continuing to fuel the problem, which means that you're then heading towards racism. Whereas unconscious bias is actually something that is inherent, unfortunately, in every single one of us. But that it is possible to educate yourself to be more aware of the problems and therefore be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

Markle's got him well-trained on this one, hasn't she. I wonder if he's read anything critical of the unconscious bias movement, or just repeating what he's been told to. Oh and then he goes off about being in the army...

PH: I loved it. I love wearing the same uniform as everybody else. I love being treated the same. I love the expectation of if you want to get that job, or you want that promotion, or you want to finish this race, it's all on you. There's no special treatment, you're not going to get any help. If anything, you're probably going to get treated the opposite because everyone thinks that you've had an easy life. And everyone's always helped you get to where you are.

But...but...but, Harry wasn't treated the same, there was special treatment, he was helped to get to where he was. He scraped a couple of poor quality A Levels and got admitted to Sandhurst because he's a prince. Good old Wikipedia says:

In June 2003, Harry completed his education at Eton with two A-Levels,[22] achieving a grade B in art and D in geography, having decided to drop history of art after AS level.[23] He has been described as "a top tier athlete", having played competitive polo and rugby union.[24] One of Harry's former teachers, Sarah Forsyth, has asserted that Harry was a "weak student" and that staff at Eton conspired to help him cheat on examinations.[25][26] Both Eton and Harry denied the claims.[25][27] While a tribunal made no ruling on the cheating claim, it "accepted the prince had received help in preparing his A-level 'expressive' project, which he needed to pass to secure his place at Sandhurst."[25][28]

PH: And then suddenly, like - while I was at school, I hated exams. And I promised myself I'd never do exams again. Then I joined the army of which is full of exams. I still promised myself I'm never gonna do it and then I end up flying Apache [...]

Gods, it's getting boring. Even the interviewers are zoning out. Still ten pages to go. Wish I hadn't started this, I could be out weeding. Weather's nice, not too windy... Do I deserve a quick G&T yet?

PH: Or worse, was they turn around and say, right, because last week, you're out the front. This week, you got to carry his bergan, I'm like - what, 30 extra pounds? Nooo. But it was, it was the most normalising experience or job that I could have ever hoped for. And then going to Afghanistan twice [...] And someone said to me very recently, from the moment that you're born into today's world, life is trauma, so the sooner that we actually acknowledge that but but [...]

A-a-a-a-and he's back on the mental health thing, PTSD or PTSI,

PH: Post Traumatic Stress Injury is like: Well, that makes sense, because I just saw my mate get blown out. But the other piece of this is, what we need to remember is, the lot of the recruiting that we do in the UK, comes from certain cities and certain homes, where there's childhood trauma. So what we collectively have already got inside of us, the trigger of seeing something happen in Iraq, Afghanistan can be the trigger. So everyone goes: Oh, it's because they were on operations, and because they saw their makeup blown up. It's like, no. [...] So that's what I've been working on for years, for the last five years, which is like, and it started in therapy of like, I don't want to lose this thing, because I think it's, I feel so connected to my mum. [...]

They move on to parenting, which the press is rubbing its hands over... Harry blaming everyone but himself and his saintly mother - Charles, HMTQ, PP... "They f*ck you up, your mum and dad". But not the mum bit. He can't push his mum off her pedestal.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48419/this-be-the-verse if you don't know Larkin's poetry. How much more? Nearly there. Monica loves The Crown and doesn't realise it's fictitious.

DS: [...]Well, Harry, I've really really liked talking to you. You're very charming. You're very intelligent. You're handsome, and I can't wait to see your torso.

MP: Thank you so much for coming.

DS: So I just want to remind everyone that May 21 on Apple Plus, you should check out Oprah and Prince Harry's 'The Me You Can't See'. I have to imagine it's similar to her book, which I just read, which is absolutely incredible 'What happened to you?' So everyone should check out 'The me you can't see' on Apple plus May 21.

And still Harry won't shut up... Shut up, shut up. Cut his mic. You don't have to read this last bit, they've already wound up the interview...He still won’t shut up.

PH: Yeah, we're moving from the physical to the emotional, right, physically. At the beginning of this pandemic, people were panicking. And there was that fight or flight like, ahh what do we do like lockdown, survival? Yeah. And now that the vaccines have been sort of, we're getting to the point where more and more people are being vaccinated, we're now in the emotional phase of what I read in the New York Times article was called languishing, which is really interesting. It's like the is the middle child between flourishing and depression. You just feel flat, and it's not depressed. It's definitely not flourishing. You lack the energy and the will, the motivation, all that kind of stuff. Because you're kind of sitting there going - Well, what happens next? And I think it's really important that we talk about languishing. And it was coined by someone I can't remember who but I think it was the journalist who wrote the story was Adam Grant. No, he didn't come up with it. Someone else came up with him, he wrote this, the most amazing article about languishing and the fact that how important it is to be able to talk about it because - look when it comes to mental health, we need to realise and accept that every single one of us have mental health. There's varying degrees, as we said, you've got the mental illness, and then you've got the sort of the awareness and the work that you can put in, like, Where do you want to be that we shouldn't just sit there and go: Oh, mental illness is once we are literally on the floor crawling around in the foetal position needing help. But for me, I don't think I need therapy anymore. But I wanted. And when I say therapy, I mean, actual therapy, sitting down having a discussion with someone. But I also mean like, nature, like going for walks, like throwing the ball for my dog down the beach and stuff like that. There are certain things around the world that are free, some you have to pay for, but ultimately go searching for the things that make you feel good about yourself. Like that's the key to life, get rid of the bad stuff, get rid of the hate, and just focus on the good. And your whole life turns around from that. I hate this idea. And I was one of them. I fell for it. Right? I didn't acknowledge that clearly what happened to me when I was 12 years old, losing my mom and all the other pieces that happened, the traumatic experiences that happened to me since then, I didn't acknowledge them, when perhaps - maybe I need to deal with this because if I don't, how the hell am I going to be a decent father to my son and my daughter? Like that awareness, I didn't have then. But again, we've got what - 40 experts as part of this series, and the Surgeon General, Dr. Nadine Burke Harris, she's absolutely fantastic. And she was talking about this concept of mental health being sort of public health, right. Because the services are so limited. There's not enough money. The problem is actually immense. How can we all help each other rather than this: 'Oh, once I'm broken, or once I'm suffering, I have to go here.' And there's not enough rooms or spaces for the amount of people or the for the need, when actually you can get ahead of it, and work on the prevention by sharing and being more vulnerable with each other, and being able to process this grief or this loss, or this trauma that every single one of us have experienced and will experience. So anyone who's sitting there going: 'I don't have a problem, and I never will have a problem.' Well, you probably are already contributing to the problem, because you probably got your blinkers on, you probably created your own echo chambers. So I think it's a that, that's certainly what I've experienced for my own process, my own journey, my family and my friends and everybody else is. Anyone who thinks, oh, we're fine. You're the one who's like, willing to talk about it. It's like, yeah, I'm willing to talk about it and talking about it. And the financial element as well. We're pouring money into on the downsteam, when it's like, Can we just focus upstream? Yeah, we focus on one thing, like to me listen to Oprah was what was one of the reasons that this whole thing started was two of the biggest issues that we're facing in today's world, I think, is the climate crisis, and mental health. And they're both intrinsically linked. Basically if we neglect our collective wellbeing, then we're screwed. Basically, because we can't look after ourselves. We can't look after each other. We can't look after each other, we can't look after this home that we all inhabit. So it's all part of the same thing.

DS: Prince Harry, I don't say this lightly. I love you. Thanks for coming. This was great.

M: Thank you so much.

PH: Thank you very much.

Wish I'd done my weeding.

10 notes · View notes

asthmaticbee · 4 years ago

Text

Oh, hey, it's me pouring my bad mental health into torturing one of my favorite anime husbands, what else is new?

Disclaimer: these snippets might get edited or scrapped when this undergoes its final writing process. You may also go and go crazy with the AU idea to your heart’s contend. I mean it. Go nuts.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Ed hadn’t expected granny in the kitchen, but when he thinks about it he’d probably hoped she’d be there. There are two glasses on the kitchen table and a bottle of whiskey. “I’m underage.”

“Old enough to serve is old enough to drink.”

He has half a mind to argue with her on principle alone, and Ed never thought of himself as the type of person to drink in the first place. But there has been a pressure in his head and a numbness in his body for months now, and he thinks a different kind of numbness might be just what he needs. He sits down across from her, eyeing the amber liquid in his glass.

“Did you find them?”

“No,” Edward wonders if feeling will ever return to his voice. “It was a different unit.”

There is a moment of silence, then Pinako hums. “I’m glad.” She takes a sip from her drink, points the butt of her pipe at his neck. “What happened there?”

His flesh hand comes up to rub at the rough bandages, his eyes far away. “Someone got the drop on me and tried to choke me. Got the guy a bullet in the head for his troubles.” Something flickers over his face for barely a second, too fast for Pinako to really tell what it is, and she watches him take a sip from the drink in his glass, face impassive as he swallows. He glances at the liquid. “Kinda thought it’d be worse.” There’s a double meaning there that goes ignored.

The air between them is heavy with something unspoken, and in the hallway the clock ticks the seconds to midnight. “You don’t have to talk about it, Ed,” she gives him an out, if he wants it. He can take it and pretend nothing has changed.

Ed never quite knew when to take an out anyways. He takes another swig from his drink, bigger this time, and Pinako sees Hohenheim in him for just a second, that almost-dead look in his eyes and the cut of his jawline. “Nah, I think I need to, just once.” He tilts his head slightly, mulling over his words. “I’d rather it be you than Al or Winry.”

“They wouldn’t think differently of you if you did.”

“No, they would,” his voice is firm but still lacks emotion. “I… don’t think they really get it. I didn’t really get it before I got to Ishval, either.” He rests his head in his left hand, twirls the liquid in the glass with his right as he stares off into the middle distance, mind far away. “After the first I puked my guts out for so long my commanding officer was about to have me declared unfit for duty. Kinda wish he had.

“It got easier, after,” he chuckles wryly, sips from the whiskey again – the glass is half empty now but his eyes are clearer than Pinako thinks they should be for a boy his age on his first drink. “Can’t believe I’m saying it, but it did. Killing people got easy at some point, it’s fucking hysterical.

“Apparently there were bets going on amongst the senior officers; which of us would crack first and go nuts, which would be sent home because they can’t handle it, which of us would have the highest kill count – stuff like that. ‘Cos it was such a novelty to have State Alchemists walk around like human weapons blasting through people like a one person army. Disgusting pricks,” he finishes the glass with two gulps and refills it almost at once. Some emotion is bleeding back into his voice, and Pinako isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or talking about it or a mix of both. “I topped the first two lists, Mustang the third, by the way.”

Edward smiles wryly at her, and there is the faintest flush on his tan cheeks. “I cost a bunch of old fucks a lot of money. The first of us to crack in the head was the guy who found Aunty and Uncle – to be fair I think the asshole wasn’t right in the head from the start. He loved what we were doing down there, I hated when we were stationed near each other, his laughter echoed through the streets more than the shots did. He blew up part of command, couldn’t even find all their body parts afterwards.

“The first they had to send home was a guy named Armstrong. Broke down crying after they shot a kid in front of him,” something must have shown on her face because he elaborates. “Any Ishvalan we came across was to be treated as a combatant, armed or not, adult or child – didn’t matter,” he swallows half his second glass at once, clears his throat. “Mustang did end up with the highest unassisted death count.

“I was fourth.” He knocks back the rest of his second glass but doesn’t reach to refill it just yet. He looks more like himself from before now, but his eyes are still dull. “You know what was worse than the screams and the unending shots? The silence, because the only thing you heard then were the snipers.” His right index hovers over the rim of his glass. “When there’s a barrage of shots someone might die or not, you can’t really tell until the cleanup gets there. Snipers though-,” he taps the glass once, the clock in the hallway ticks five times, then he taps it again. “It was so regular. A shot, five heartbeats, another shot. Each shot equals one death. Made me sick at first, but eventually it was all just-,”

Edward breaks off, rubs his left hand over his face, then grips his hair tight, as if trying to force some sort of feeling back into himself. “Eventually I just got so numb, granny.” His eyes find hers and they shine in the low light of the kitchen. “At some point I just-, it was like I wasn’t inside my body anymore, not really. I just didn’t feel anymore, and it was so scary because I didn’t want to feel anything anymore, but I also didn’t want to just die inside.

“You said Al and Winry wouldn’t think differently of me if I told them, but that’s not the point. Because I am different.” He fills his glass again, only to empty it immediately after. “I’ve murdered people, I’ve murdered children. I have the fourth highest unassisted body count of all deployed State Alchemists, granny. What does it say about me that I held out till the end when a grown-ass man was sent home after a nervous breakdown?”

Pinako looks at him for a long moment, and with a sigh she empties her own glass. “I don’t know, Ed, but I think you’re a strong enough man to not let this consume you.” She picks up the bottle and gets up to put it back in her liquor cabinet. Behind her, she hears Edward move to the sink and rinse out their glasses, his footing sure in a way she doesn’t think three full glasses of whiskey on an empty stomach should warrant.

“I’m sorry, for unloading that all on you, granny.”

“Eh, that’s what grandmas are for, Ed.”

“But you just-,”

“I was prepared for them to come back in body bags, Ed. I was prepared for you to come back in one, too. I’m glad I only had two bodies to bury.” She turns around and finds herself wrapped in a tight hug, smelling like whiskey and oil. There’s the underlying smell of desert and blood clinging to him still, and she wonders if it will ever leave.

“Love you, granny,” he whispers, and he feels solid in her arms, like a part of him has started to return to him, to them.

“Love you too, pipsqueak.” There’s only a wry chuckle where before would have been a lost temper and banter, and it wrenches her heart more fiercely than anything else has, yet. It’s the sudden certainty that a part of Edward was forever lost in the desert sands, and would never come back.

#ao3 #fanfic #writing #my writing #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #edward elric #pinako rockbell #ishval #ishval civil war #ishvalan veteran edward au #oh hey its bad mental health days and writing depressing shit #my oldest otp

13 notes · View notes

cxmetery-gates · 4 years ago

Text

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER ONE: FAKING IT

SUMMARY: Lynn Moore dreads the beginning of her greatest fear: the first day of senior year. WORD COUNT: 2.3k NOTE: Get ready for typical teenager angst. Let’s all bully Lynn. WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR AROUND the middle of August, my mom tells me the same advice; have a good first day. Of course, most mothers, fathers, or whoever tell their child this, but it's as pointless as a circle. Whoever has a fantastic first day of school? There are new teachers to impress, you're stuck with the same bunch of losers you sit with at lunch, and there are more jerks and morons to pick on you, despite the status quo you fall under. High school is frankly really awful all the way around and there's no way someone can deny or even try to argue that. These are the four years of utter hell and we're all dying to get out. I've stepped through those heavy doors, resembling the gates of hell, on a first day three times now. My anger and hatred have only been fueled rather than dying down. I'm sure nothing will ever change.

"Don't forget--" Mom tries to tell me from the porch in sweats and a maroon t-shirt. Her unnatural dirty blonde hair piled on the top of her head with an old red clip. There are tears welling in her eyes, seeing her only child almost grown up. I have one last year of school and mere months until I'm an adult. For me, it may pass by far too slow, but I bet it's a whole different story for her. In all honesty, it's ridiculous that the woman is so upset and not to mention annoying. I have done this routine twelve times now, for Christ sake, she should get a grip on herself by now. I don't mean to belittle my mother but one of her greatest achievements is being able to replicate every single stereotype women have, including having no control over her emotions. An outsider looking in may say I'm a bit to harsh. All I can say to that is no one has loved with her for almost eighteen years like I have.

"I got it!" I yell against the wind as it smacks my face while I walk across the grass. "Christ on a bike," I curse tossing my messy light brown hair from my field of vision.

The bus would take another five minutes to get the corner, but I'd like to not look stupid on my first day by running to catch up with the metal rectangle of devilry Peter Parker style. Well, maybe it would turn into an interesting story at the least. Spiderman is my favorite superhero of all time after all. Despite this, I only allow an angry face to part my path. It's totally fake but faking it is the only way to survive.

Down at the intersection, there are already kids waiting. I think it's safe to assume that all of the puberty-sicken teenagers are freshmen or sophomores since most junior and seniors are still asleep at this early hour, knowing the good majority are able to drive. I take a good look at all of them. The fact that they find throwing bits of gravel at squirrels or birds makes me want to go over and smack them upside the head. That thought crosses my mind a lot. The world is so full of morons; it's hard to pick out which ones are actually tolerable. They're almost as bad as kids in letterman jackets with expensive sports cars. Those fuckers are the worst. All they care about is their ego and how much money they can wave around coming right from mommy and daddy's wallet.

Take the kid in the striped shirt tucked into his hand-me-down jeans. He looks like a nice kid; after all, he's got nothing to brag about. His parents are probably office workers or maybe nothing too difficult. Nothing too important. That's all we are, right? I mean, once we're dead and gone. No one is gonna care what car you drove or what brand your plain white shirt is. People who think they're hotshots or something special are the real morons.

Besides, who thinks it's cool to spend thirty bucks on a t-shirt?

An old car passes, a teenage girl in my grade sits in the driver's seat. I sort of duck out of the way. Not James Bond-like, but I move my already shitty hair in front of my face as if it's going to help hide my identity. The chick probably didn't even see me. I watch the car drive on, kinda imagining what sort of car I would drive once I get one. I suppose I would have to learn first. I personally am not a fan of getting behind the wheel. Hell, I can't even ride a bike without falling over. I'd rather move to a large city and order cabs to get me places. They seem more convenient and, if you get in a wreck, it's not your fault and it's not your money coming out of pocket. No car equals more money. Then again, no car also is equivalent to no freedom and taxis and Uber's can get expensive. It seems like each idea is flawed these days.

Upon scanning the area again— this time ignoring the idiots— I notice only one person who seems excited out of the group. Her dark brown hair and dark skin contrast to the majority of our town, including those waiting nearby. Her curled hair bounces with each stride she takes, happier than the step prior.

Some say it's strange that the girl and I are such good friends. You don't see God and Satan going out and having coffee every weekend or anything.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I question as I readjust my dark blue shirt underneath the flannel. Flannels are my favorite personal quirk. I own at least fifty, most being cool or dark colors. I don't have an obsession; just an interest that I care way too much about. Flannels are to Lynn Moore as controversy is to famous influencers. Looking back up, my eyebrow is still raised. I'm shocked to see her here, assuming her parents would have given her a lift. After a second, it dawned on me that this, riding the bus to school, was her punishment for getting into an accident she won't take responsibility for.

Posting memes and vines references are fun and all, but doing it while going 60 down a highway isn't the smartest. Forgive me for not following the strict millennial handbook but I don't actually want to die nor do I want my friends to.

My best friend, Ellie Graves, gives a small glare. "Why does it always seem like you're on your period?" I shrug my shoulders, and played with the wire choker I always wore. As my fingers slip underneath the necklace, it is evident how to lose it has gotten since I bought it a few months ago. I make a mental note to take a quick trip to the shopping side of the internet sometime soon.

I click my tongue before answering. "Probably because I'm closer to hell than you are," I say, referring to my obvious lack of height. I'm only five feet and just barely three inches off the ground while Ellie is at least five feet and seven inches. Personally I think we would make a cute couple given our attitudes and the extremities of our heights, except for the fact that dearest Ellie is not interested in people other than men. What a party pooper. For me, anyway. "But lets do our best to not reinforce stereotypes," I say referring to her comment.

She nods her head. "Yes, mother." I snort at her sass, leaning my body weight onto my right leg. "But hey! We have one year left! That's something to be excited about, am I right?"

Yes, I would say she is right. Freshmen, sophomore, and the dragged out junior year have come and passed, full of useless information and embarrassing memories with it. It's mostly embarrassing if I have to be honest. School isn't my thing, however falling up and down the main set of stairs apparently is. Who knew?

"Yeah, I suppose so. At least we're considered adults now," I reply trying to find some positive about the situation.

Ellie begins to lightly laugh, "True. That's kinda a scary thought, though." Her body shudders, either because a breeze just blew passed or out of what she just said.

The age of freedom is so close, I can nearly touch it. Despite my longing to finally buy a lottery ticket and spray paint, the fear of adulthood gnaws at the back of my mind. With eighteen comes responsibility, something I lack to a high degree. I muse the idea of getting a degree of irresponsibility. However, I don't think such diploma could help me get into a creative writing career.

I make a thinking face and bring my shoulders to my ears preparing for an exaggerated response. "Well, you aren't wrong," I reply in a forced high pitch noise, catching the attention of the guys. Now I notice they are all matching in basketball shorts and a jacket. Men's fashion, ladies and gents. Ellie chuckles at my utter dorkiness while I continue to make some weird face I'm sure she will get a picture of sometime within the next few seconds.

It's crazy how time is able to fly. Just last week, so it seems, the outgoing, beaming chick I have as a best friend and I were in third grade, the year I moved to a new house, a different school, and a very different town. Although my eight-year-old-self hated it at the time, I'm glad I left the northern state of Maine, all the way across to the midwest. That is if you consider southern Missouri part of the midwest. If I hadn't, who would have the privilege of being my first smack in the face? Or first sleepover (with an actual girl)? Who knows, and I honestly wouldn't like to. Ellie's my best friend; I would be dead if she didn't have my back. And I'm honestly positive she would say the same about her tiny best pal.

Little time passes after the picture was indeed taken and posted on Elle's Snapchat before an ugly shade of yellowish-orange appears entering the neighborhood. Ellie is practically fidgeting, fighting the urge to run up the bus even if it is some distance away. My eyes roll trying to not say anything to kill her spirit but I do let out an accidental groan as its loud hum draws nearer. The bus came to a screeching halt and I already want to turn on my heel and head home. When I step on, I notice there is a new driver this year. After Ellie got her license and could legally drive me around, I never bothered with the bus unless I needed space or she was busy, which was hardly ever. Ellie and I mostly spend our time together with our group of friends. Despite this, I still easily took notice of a different person in the seat. Instead of a balding old man with a face like alligator skin, a woman sat in the brown leather seat and looks roughly in her forties. She, like all of us except for Ellie, looks tired but fakes a smile anyways. The same rules apply; middle school and junior high in the front and high school in the back. It seems as if sitting in the back always made you cool of some sort. Every time a kid got away with it in middle school, he or she was automatically the bad kid, the cool kid, or the king of the bus. God, how stupid is that theory? These thoughts remind me how annoying and stupid we all were at ten and eleven years old. I'm sure if I had a duplicate of myself at that age, I'd shoot either one of us to cease me from the utter pain.

Instead of going all the way to the back, I turn to sit in the seat half way down the aisle while plunging in an earbud, leaving one open to listen to Ellie. I instantly scroll through an select a playlist that mixes rock, punk, and even some emo. Given today being my last first day, I figured early morning jams would be appropriate to get me pumped up even though I tend to listen to this genre quite often as of lately. I enjoy the heavy guitar and double bass pedal and lyrics I can either relate to or wonder who hurt the singer so bad. Needless to say, I'm definitely more of a rock person however there's still a lot of other types of music on my device, including orchestra and folk or indie. I don't like to limit what I listen to; whatever makes me feel good ends up on my phone. Simple as that.

"So, Lynn," Ellie says sliding in right next to me. I look in her direction, which was to my right, waiting for her to respond. She looks at me, but nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, I arch a brow. Still, there was nothing. "I had nothing to say, I just wanted your attention." Ellie gave a stupid grin while I glare kindly at her if there is such a thing.

My head shakes and I reach out to pat her cheek, "You, my darling, are an absolute dumbass."

I feel her grin grow against my hand since I haven't moved it yet. "Not as big as you, though." I can't argue; she has a point.

As the bus lunches forwards, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Something settles in my gut about then, the feeling both familiar and foreign. I can't tell what it is, but as I watch the clouds roll in over the sun and birds flying through the sky, I only hope my last year of high school will be memorable.

#dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #obsessive teachings #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

15 notes · View notes

ultfreakme · 4 years ago

Text

Some To Veer the Tides notes

Yes I know no one cares about this kinda shit but I worked hard on creating this fic and need to get this out of my system because it’s literally only in my brain and echoing in there and disrupting my life. This is just word vomit. If, for some reason, you actually got through all the currently 50k + words of my akafuri fic and want some more, here’s some notes-

Overarching themes:

1. Sun and Moon

When it comes to AkaFuri, I use a lot of comparisons to sun, the sunlight, and metaphors regarding the sun. It plays a huge role, at least in my fics, in defining their relationship. Akashi seems to be influenced by the sun a lot. In his manga introduction, he was standing right in front of it, the light hiding his face(as far as I remember), and it stayed in my mind. He’s unreachable, and even if you manage to get close you get burnt. It can be cruel and kind, and it colours the sky in so many different colours and the one I most often remember when thinking of Akashi is the setting sun when the sky is red but the sun is this blazing ball of orange. (something like this)

Furihata’s always been filtered sun rays, the ones that peek through clouds, coming down like rain through leaves of trees. He’s Komorebi. His aesthetic and presence are meant to be gentle in the manga and he looks it. He looks sorta wispy and soft, the most beautiful and gentle form of sunlight to me. But it’s not something too many people think about because you get caught up in the grand colours of the sun.

(the pictures are here to make this less tedious. Also, nature’s cool.)

But they’re the one and the same. In the end they’re of the sun, from the sun.

In To Veer the Tides, a lot of the hard-hitting and emotional scenes happen based on the sun.

- Their first conversation was in the dead of the night which is neither of their domain. They haven’t met eye to eye it’s a dodgy interaction where both of them are hesitant. Their first kiss was in the night too. A kiss may seem like progress but it was the worst possible decision to have been made then.

- The time at the field was in full sunlight and it was the first time they met eye to eye.

- One thing I was giddy writing, was Furihata’s birthday. It starts at night, they aren’t meeting eye to eye, Furihata’s not having a good time and everything sucks. But as the night goes on and it gets close to sunlight, they slowly start to understand something with each other. Furihata was so averse to Akashi until the gift moment and suddenly he’s like. “Okay fuck what is happening I was planning on avoiding you forever.”

Was it annoying trying to line up events to time of days? Yes. Did I do it? Abso-fucking-lutely because I’m horny for symbolism in stories.

Now the MOON. In this fic, Nijimura is the moon. Sun and Moon parallels are the bread and butter of romantic analogies and the “we’re totally bros” (a no-homo cannot fix this) build-up in queerbaiting anime targeted at boys which are enjoyed better by people who aren’t cishet men.

Akashi and Nijimura are like that. One can’t live without the other, they depend on each other. They are seemingly different but of equal importance. I straight up said it in chapter one. In this fic, NijiAka are the soulmates. But the fic is called ‘To Veer the Tides” right? It’s about defying fate and what’s supposedly set in stone. It’s about Akashi learning that just because you are always winning doesn’t mean you can’t lose, and that just because you hit rock bottom doesn’t mean you can’t get back up.

Also, I do love the idea of two people being made for each other, fitting perfectly, but I love the idea of two people loving each other enough to say “fuck it!” to fate just to be together more.

Had the siege at Rakuzan not happened, NijiAka would’ve been satisfied and happy together, it would’ve been perfect. For Akashi and Furihata to be anything real, I feel like something radical would have to happen because, as we all know, it’s a crack pair.

(Even MayuAka falls into the Sun & Moon, Light & Shadow analogy. No hate to both ships, y’all actually have canon backing ;_; which is always fun.)

We as shippers and artists are what made it something legit. You could hypothetically ship Kawahara and Kagami but literally no one does and just the idea of it sounds a little ridiculous right? Well AkaFuri is like that for people who don’t get it. But then we made it into something plausible (and the cute art and fics dragged me in, man akafuri creators are convincing).

ANYWAYS- something stupid and impossible needs to happen for AkaFuri to have a chance- and where did our beloved ship originate? When the blessed Chihuahua-Lion thing happened and Akashi, THE AKASHI SEIJUUROU, miscalculated. Something that shouldn’t be happening, happened. And Akashi fell so hard. It was a ripple effect from Furihata standing up against Akashi, the making that basket, Seirin getting pumped up again, etc(I’m not saying “uwaaaah Furihata caused that” cuz he didn’t, Kuroko’s responsible for pushing Akashi to change but shipper brainrot dictates that I mention it).

So something like that needed to happen. Thus, Akashi fell.

2. Flowers

I started it for the aesthetics. Pretty boys in flowy clothes surrounded by flower symbolism. That’s how it began and then I accidentally put plot in it. It’s not as heavy as the Sun and Moon comparisons, but they do have a level of significance. Chrysanthemums are symbols of royalty and prestige in Japan, so obviously the Akashis get that. Camellias are for faithfulness. Zinnias, are for loyalty and perseverance. The flowers define the House, the state they’re in and the clans.

The biggest moment was with the Kiku and Niko story in chapter 12.

3. The concept of being truthful

The story, to one extent, is about how hypocritical and broken some of the land’s ideologies. If you look at it past the romance, it’s about how literally no one is sticking to the virtues of the land, or the basic decencies of being a human being. In canon, Akashi’s the ‘villain’.

I disagree.

The true villain of KNB are the adults. Teikou pushed middle school children into hierarchies in a basketball club just to keep up the prestige of their name. The coaches never approached the kids when they were emotionally broken and needed someone to ground them. Akashi’s dad pushed him so far that he developed a mental disorder.

We never see the actual villains and they’re never defeated. This is because in reality, the children are powerless. KNB lasts just one school year. What about when they get out? What happens when they face the real villains?

That’s what happens in this fic. They’re all more aged up, but Akashi suffered his worst defeat as a child in the conflict of adults. Now that he’s grown up, he stands a chance. The entire fic is, to an extent, the cruelty of the adults and the powerful.

People go on and on about honesty, truthfulness and being honourable but no one is, and no one should try to be so rigidly perfect. These phrases or virtues according to which people are supposed to live are taken to be used whenever it’s convenient for them.

Seirin is the biggest example of this because that’s where a lot of the story takes place. “Honesty Above”, but they’re always gossiping and rumours keep spreading like wildfire there. False and romanticized rumours. It’s what Akashi depends on to brush up on his reputation and it works.

Akashi didn’t really do much good in the grand scheme of things but his closeness to Furihata, Kawahara and Fukuda along with ratting out on Yuito and Toshi was enough to sort of sway their opinions on him. People used to be terrified of him in the main house but after a while he gets respect (though imposing and kinda scary).

Yes I’m trying to be a pretentious fuck but I’m no….idk insert awesome writer who actually can handle these kinda things. Writing like this is difficult ngl and I accidentally create analogies I don’t intend because of the already existing stuff.

Eg: To Veer the Tides- Nijimura’s the moon. What can ACTUALLY veer the tides and is associated with it? The moon. But Nijimura doesn’t have that big of a part in the story.

Anyways, here’s my word vomit. You can use these analogies for your fics to and jump off these ideas cause’ I need more fics dang it ;_;

#akafuri #furiaka #tvtt #to veer the tides #i made tha tag to keep track of my shit lol #knb #kuroko no basuke

6 notes · View notes

melaboveall · 3 years ago

Text

Cancel Culture is Toxic

The moment you people will realize how toxic the cancel culture community is the moment your lives will be so much more peaceful. Cancel culture is so toxic and inconsistent. These are not people who you should be reaching out to online for help and guidance. These are also people you don’t need as your friends too unless they get their shits together mentally and gain peace within themselves becuase all I ever see them do to you is spread hate. They are like High School or Elementary school kids in adults bodies but even worse. You see cancel culture it was nice at first, I admit, when it was about calling out homophobes, rapists, sexually assaults, racists, abusers, murderers, rape apologists, those type of things but then it got out of control. The wrong people y’all looked up too became the voices for yall because they refuse to even hold themselves accountable and lash out at others for their current wrongdoings. Sometimes cancel culture is so toxic that what the person did wasn’t even bad. The problem is "cancelling" someone now has become an excuse for bullying someone online you don't like. Also to be mean to others because of their ego has these toxic fanbases liek them knowing they’re going to defend their trash behaviors.

You really bully someone into apologizing and then have the nerve to tell them their apology isn’t genuine. It's kind of like "I don't like something that you said, so now I will proceed to ruin your life so that no one else can see the content which you produce".

Are you really using cancel culture to really hold people accountable? But then in the back of my mind, the questions I need to ask now do you want them to change, be dead, get fired, or show you dislike someone? My heart is different, I don’t want those to die, I do want them to change if the mistake wasn’t that bad but I’ve seen most of y’all really wished death on people even for something so small and when people can learn better from that and that’s really a big problem. Y'all didnt grow up to hold people accountable or become woke like y’all think yall did and this shows. If you want to hold people accountable look at yourself in the mirror because the way your energy has been showing it isn’t it. You’re using cancel culture as an scapegoat to hide it behind your hurt and hatred to take out on others. So you have lived your like being this perfect person with no wrongdoings or mistakes? That’s what it sounds like. Look at how you’re acting now. You’re not woke, you’re hurting. You’re not woke, you got deep rooted anger within you. You’re not woke, you’re bitter. You’re not woke, you became toxic. But why is it time to say you’re wrong you get sp upset to take shots at others? So it’s okay for you to call out others to hold them accountable but the moment it’s time for you its wrong? Check your egos.

People of the cancel culture will do anything to ruin a person’s name even if it means digging deep into their past to look for one single bad decision they made. Cancel culture implies that human beings don't have the ability to change or grow from their mistakes. People can get cancelled over something they did multiple years ago, which isn’t always a true reflection of the person they are today. People grow and change. Nobody is the same as they were when they were younger. You can get cancelled for doing the smallest little thing wrong. It’s ridiculous. And the moment people try do do some good you have to reminds others of the bad. Maybe you don’t want them to change to become a better person for yall own guilts that maybe you’re hiding to make you feel better about yourselves. Get you some therapy please instead of creating a toxic platform on the internet and teaming up with internet friends you dont know personally but can relate to your mentality to bully and humilate others. You probably was that loner in school, now you’re taking whatever you went throught out on others growing up and teaming up with internet folks relating like yourselves “calling out” folks. I promise yall will feel better about yourselves if you stop emulating your high school bullies and trauma bonding with other adults who haven't grown since either.

You put on blast, constantly dragging someone while tagging your internet friends 24/7 threatening to unfriend them if they don’t unfriend that person themselves because you have a problem with them or they’re whatever they are to you or pick at everything that doesn't align with your views and your experience. And when you don’t feel like unfriending you’re apparently caping for that person or “allowing them into your space.” You need to get off the internet and get a life if you really think that. I mean go ahead and unfriend and block me then because you fail to realize how draining that gets to constantly being told to unfriend or block whoever you have a problem with. It’s all drama from you at this point.

If were being honest, at this rate everyone in this world will be cancelled at some point because everyone has done something they have better themselves in. Everyone has made some mistake or a bad choice once in their lives. As long as it’s not rape or murder or being a pedophile who cares?

I’ve seen people forgive others for THEMSELVES and still be cancelled only just because you yourselves want to hold that grudge and not forgive. It’s scary to think you’re not allowed to forgive the so called problematic anymore. It should be called bully culture instead of cancel culture.

The other big issue with cancel culture is that it doesn't really tackle the issues it is against. Silencing people with views, opinions, ideas you don't like doesn't challenge or make those go away. It just builds resentment and increases the distance between people. Now I feel y’all caused people scared to voice their own opinions because you’re going to get others to drag that person and put on blast. Talking and listening to people brings us together. We say “mental health is so important”, then we wreck peoples’ mental health by “cancelling” their existence and voice.

If you’re really this type of person I really don’t want you into my space. You fanbases of these type of people are dangerous too. Get you some help instead of being on the internet trying to drag people all the time. The problem is you more than you think of others you’re trying to drag and cancel.

#diary

1 note · View note

naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

34. Part 6

I shuddered at the thought, the thought of me having to play mother to a child that isn’t even mine. I hope she gathers herself for her child “not going to lie but even if I was angry with Chris, and I was hurt. I wouldn’t be bothered. I would take my child and be happy. I hope she acts right, I’m not for kids being hurt but if she goes bad and doesn’t take care of him and then Chris is gonna look to me, and then what” I said to Mel “you married a man with kids Robyn, it could happen but don’t wish these things into existence but I think that bitch is mentally unstable anyway, it’s scary. How she snapped at that boy, but I wouldn’t mind Roro being here, she’s such a happy child. That is what I like about her. I mean I think with him he may have been brainwashed with her ways; you know!?” Mel ain’t wrong “I’m not sure about him at all, Chris doesn’t have that bond anyways but if Chris ends up going court and then wins more rights over his son then I wanted, then I’m kind of not going to be happy” Mel snorted laughing “be nice to the bitch then” side eyeing Mel “nah, she ain’t getting my money, she can fuck herself. Chris is just not rubbing my feet right now, he’s here on his phone. He needs to be like me, not care for my phone” I huffed out “but I think you may need to have that thought in your mind and accept what may happen, you know?” Mel is right “let me check on what he’s doing, I don’t want people upsetting him. He likes to read into things, I need his page deleting again” walking around the counter slowly, he has not moved away from his phone at all. The thing is people love to harass Chris because they know he takes it to heart, and cares because Chris was looking at me with puppy dog eyes and then I spoke. That bitch is a bully, and I won’t have it, he just wants to a quiet life. Chris is not weak, never that but he just wants a quiet life that he pays the bitch money, like now. She’s using Aeko as a ploy to get to him. I know his son won’t go hungry; he will be ok. I am keeping the care packages; I don’t even care about that. I don’t know where that bitch is mentally, but if things get bad I’m gonna have to have that child here. I’m not a bad person but still, I rather not.

Resting my arm on Chris’ shoulder looking down at his phone, why is my husband like this. Why does he have to get himself caught up on Instagram, pressing a kiss to the back of his head “what are you doing? We are supposed to be going upstairs” this man is staring at his tagged pictures “huh” he looked up at me “what is it? Talk to me, why are you staring at your phone and not looking at me? It’s our time” he poked his lower lip out “they are saying mean things?” I think they are “Fenty isn’t mine, they are saying how ugly I was as a baby when your forehead was bigger than my phone screen, and apparently my mom liked a post but like what if she didn’t read the caption” I sighed out “delete Instagram, you was happier without it. I want you to delete it, once you can handle the shit people say then you can go back on it. I don’t want to treat you like a child but it’s not good for your mental being when you are trying to better yourself, people are gonna tag you in shit. It’s bullying, they always do it to you. What did your mom like, tell me?” I rather we speak on it then just leaving it alone “that Rihanna got what she wanted, a baby. She will throw him soon, DNA test needed” rolling my eyes “Delete your Instagram, you don’t need this negativity” Joyce is asking for a beating from me, she is digging into this hole that she can’t escape “Robyn, Tina is on the phone, Joyce is trying to contact you?” Frowning at Dennis, Joyce is trying to call be “Joyce who?” Walking of towards Dennis and see what the fuck is up “my mom?” Chris said behind me, that boy adores his mom and she’s a bitch “is on mute?” I asked Dennis following him into the living room “yeah, Tina called and was like is Robyn there because if so Joyce is on the phone, i said who? She said Chris’ mother, I mean she has Chris’ number right?” Looking behind me and I knew Chris would be behind me following me, I didn’t want him too, but he did, I don’t blame him because it is his mother.

Taking my phone from Dennis, taking in a deep breath before answering “Tina” I said “she’s muted but she called on withheld and she said she got in touch with your manager, I’m like Robyn is her own boss so chile, I don’t know. But your publicist called me, but can I put her through?” Tina said “but what does she want? Didn’t she say what the issue was? She has her son’ number, I don’t get that she rang you like this” turning to Chris all in my space “Chris, I am going to go into another room, private. This is a private talk between us, and I don’t want you to be upset about shit yeah, then I mean it. We are going! Let the world go to shit, I don’t care. One minute Tina” moving my phone away from my ear “but I would like to hear what she has to say, it’s not fair, why didn’t she ring me. Why am I being penalised, for what!?” he spat “because she is what she is, I promise I will tell you what she says, do you trust me?” I asked “I do but I want to hear” he is hard headed but so can I “if you trust me then you will let me go and I will be back to tell you, I would not let her ever disrespect you but I can’t concentrate on this call and see your sad face, you know” Chris has this sad face now because he’s been reading shit “fine, you better tell her that she is hurting me” nodding my head “I will, just wait here. I will be back” walking by Chris “yeah so Tina, did she mention anything to you? Like what the fuck this is about!?” I would like to know anything before I answer this call “nothing, just that can I speak to Robyn, I did say she is busy and she said with my son then it clicked on who she is, Chris’ mother so yeah” rolling my eyes “ok put her through” I will go into the second living area, hopefully Chris stays put.

Sitting down on the couch “you called” I said, she is being awfully quiet for a woman that called me “I have never been an evil person Robyn, I love. I love everything and everyone, and you have married my son I see” she said “he married me, he purposed to me. I didn’t kidnap your son, clearly you think I brainwashed your grown ass son. He made his decision” I don’t want to snap at her “he is brainwashed when it comes to you, you had sex with him unprotected knowing full well what you wanted” and she says she is nice “what I wanted? Oh yes, I wanted to be the third baby mother, I wanted to be caught up in Chris’ issues, I wanted to play step mother, yes I wanted to deal with Chris’ bipolar and his odd ways, yes I wanted that. I wanted to heal Chris from his past because he hasn’t healed himself because nobody fucking cared to do it, yes Joyce! I wanted that, any sane bitch would just do what that bitch in Germany has done, oh you are just vile. Why the fuck would I wait all these years of my life to be in this situation!? Huh? Riddle me this, why is it you’re still stuck on the fact I stole your son? I didn’t steal Joyce, I took a broken man that was stuck on drugs and because I love him, if it wasn’t love he would be on the fucking streets and he would be a sperm donor, fuck!” I snapped, I just couldn’t hold back on that “you one big deluded bird” I need to not be rude “you got that bitch crying it’s love, and you crying I stole a boy you didn’t care about! Yes he is an adult, you right Joyce, he is a grown adult that his own mother failed him, I mean I am mothering him, oh wow. I am angry at you! I should be telling you, you stole your son’ adulthood because you shipped him off in his childhood to New Jersey because you couldn’t handle him, you leave him alone Joyce. You called me for what!? Hurt that I married him, mhmm. You can also stop using his name to sell your old people clothing, nobody wants those tacky shits, you also are on the list to not use his name. Only me, his daughters, his son will use his name. You! Let me find out you do, you’re getting sued, I suggest you sign those papers too Joyce!” the phone disconnected, just like that she ran off, I will not put up with shit.

I have known Chris since we were teenagers, I know everything about him, and I fucking know everything. His mother couldn’t handle him, she shipped him off. How can she allow her son to have sex as a child, I would like to murder her to be honest and they expect him to be sane. Fuck that, but that is done now. Getting up from the couch, I am done and if I get another issue now I am going to scream. I want to have some peace with Chris, no drama. I opened the door and Chris was already stood there “you don’t listen do you” tilting my head a little “you know me, you was sticking by me, like you out here dishing out gag orders on people” I chuckled “Chris, you’re my husband. I will be doing what I can, I am always doing something. I am sticking by you, like you do me. It’s ok, no evil will come between us. She will be coming to you Chris; she will want you ok?” Chris nodded his head “did you delete your Instagram?” that is the first thing “yeah, I turned my phone off too. Mel said it was be best if I did. Too much drama happening now, like people are all up in the air about it. Us being married” smiling at Chris “that is fine, I need to give my phone Dennis then we are going upstairs. We can talk about anything you like too. I am all ears, but you need to rub my feet” walking into the kitchen “those are my snacks! Get off, this fat bitch needs it but here Dennis. And please look after my daughter. If she does play up then you may come to us, do not post pictures of her, not the face anyways, you know the deal. Have fun” Jah looks like he is up to no good “he wants to wake her” Mel said “don’t bother, she will hate you for it” I said walking off “gummy drop want foot rubs huh” Chris put his arm around me “I do, and you better deliver. I think maybe we should literally sit in our robes too” I was in my robe, but I put something on to come down, after the minor meltdown earlier which I am over now.

I giggled seeing Chris in my Savage x Fenty robe, I swear he is the cutest “so you got boxers on?” I have to ask because you never know, he lifted the Robe showing me his boxers “ohhhhhh Savage Fenty boxers now? Mhmm I wonder who designed those, your dick looks bigger in those” I winked at Chris “my wife did that, I like them and this robe. I feel like a brand new guy” raising my leg at Chris “come on now” Chris chuckled getting onto the bed, he grabbed my foot “be nice now” side eyeing him gripping my foot, he sat across from me “do you have panties on?” Chris stretched my leg out to check and I yelped out “aye, I see your coochie” trying to reach over to slap his hand but Chris has a grip on my foot now “I have panties on thank you” laying back on the bed “I was just testing you gummy drop, if you take your robe off, I will take mine off” frowning at him “mhmm why you want me to take my robe off Christopher? After calling me gummy drop, I am not removing anything” Chris moved his hand and came over to me, hovering over me “I miss this” looking up at him “this position?” Chris grinned, biting on my bottom lip “I do, a lot actually” reaching my hand up and placing it at the side of Chris’ cheek, he lowered his head as he rested it on my shoulder, wrapping my arm around his neck, he didn’t lay on me but he was careful with me and just rested his head on my shoulder “I love you” pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

#Chrianna #chrianna ff #chriannaff #fanficton #fanfiction #fanfic

9 notes · View notes

movienotesbyzawmer · 4 years ago

Photo

October 23: Friday The 13th - A New Beginning

(previous notes: Friday the 13th - The Final Chapter)

In case you're just joining us, I have committed myself to the task of watching each of the eight Friday the 13th movies that came out in the 80s, taking notes as I watch them, then posting those notes. I'm about to watch the fifth movie.

And hey, is it time to just recap the "story" so far? I mean… sure, I guess. It all started in 1958, when a little boy named Jason drowned at Camp Crystal Lake. Supposedly the camp counselors responsible for keeping an eye on him were distracted with their recreational boinking. That's how the story goes… however, what we see in 1958 is two camp counselors boinking and then getting murdered by someone with ostensibly no related drowning event. Anyway, Twenty years later Jason's mom stalks some camp counselors that are at that camp and kills them very violently. She gets beheaded before she can kill the last counselor, but then that counselor gets pulled into the water by ghoulboy Jason; she survives this only to be murdered by him in her house at a later date.

Meanwhile another facility down the shore from Camp Crystal Lake (and I might add that the actual eponymous lake doesn't appear to be any bigger than the apparel section of a Target) has some new counselor trainees on a retreat of some kind. Jason has quickly matured from a swampy child-monster to a hooded, but otherwise sharply-dressed psychopath who doesn't say anything. He kills everyone at this retreat except for one girl who seems to kind of get him. Also maybe her boyfriend survives, we never really get an answer on that, but she is familiarly hauled away by an ambulance and forgotten about. Jason keeps his killing spree going quite indiscriminately, but focusing on another group of young people that are hanging out at a nearby ranch. He kills everyone there, plus some other people he found, except for one girl who survives long enough to get pulled into the water by a ghoul that is probably a Jason's Mom Thing. We don't know what happens to her, but she definitely did not stay dry.

The hospital where that last batch of victims ended up got a little bit murdered up. Jason was in there because he was thought of as one of the victims somehow, maybe a deliberate playing-dead trick because he does like to do stuff like that. He heads back to the woodsy area around Crystal Lake and decides to pick on the residents of two area houses. He does lots of killings but a brother and sister from one of those houses stab him so many times that he just can't get up an murder them. But in the process of that, the brother might have caught some evil. Is this the final chapter. Will there be a new beginning. Soon the contents of Disc 5 will reveal all.

(I have not seen this movie btw)

It opens very differently from the others… someone on a raincoat is walking urgently through the woods during a nighttime storm. It's Corey Feldman! He approaches Jason's grave in the woods! Like totally a grave with a headstone that says Jason Voorhees. But also two hooligans were on their way to that grave; they want to dig Jason up! CF is hiding and watching that; the hooligans don't know about him. They want to see Jason's body, and when they succeed with that, it stabs them to death because Jason was buried with a bunch of his favorite weapons. Plus also wearing the hockey mask. He's about to kill CF when whoever was dreaming this dream wakes up in a van that appears to be for crazy people of some kind. I don't recognize anyone, but maybe the dreaming person is grown-up CF? Probably that. Not played by CF, though.

His name is Tommy. I think that was CF's character's name so yeah it's him. I wonder if he's still into video games. He's being delivered to an institute of mental health. A nice couple is in charge, a Nice Woman and a Nice Man who make it sound like it will be Nice there.

Tommy looks wistfully at a picture of his mom and sister. The sister survived the last movie ostensibly so what is the deal with her.

Reggie the Reckless is a character that introduces himself to Tommy quite confrontationally. He is only about 11 and he likes to scare people; he clearly thinks he's going to totally pwn Tommy with pranks, but Tommy is apparently still into monster masks so he responds in a horror-mask way that earns some cred with Reggie the Reckless.

We get a glimpse at the motley cast of teens and young adults that populates this youth mental facility slash work farm place… and then two old killjoys show up to scold everyone for being crazy. These two killjoy characters are the most broadly performed caricatures we've seen since the "you're all doomed" old guy. Their acting is the kind of acting you see at the Renaissance festival, except without the half-assed English accents.

One of the kids at the institute is just a well-meaning dork with chocolate smears on his face that everyone hates… one guy hates him so much that he murders him! With an axe! Chocolate Smear was trying to strike up a conversation with a man who was angrily chopping wood, and bothered him so much that he axes him right there in front of others and in broad daylight! This story I tell you, it is a veritable New Beginning.

New characters. Leather Jacket Assholes, are talking about the murder at the nuthouse. They are in the woods nearby and one of them goes to take a leak while the other tries to fix something wrong with the car. They both get some kind of killed! The first one, the killer shoves a lit flare in his mouth, and the other one gets his throat slashed while he's acting very cocky and charismatic in the front seat of the car. Lit flare death is better even though it looks very fake.

But now we're back at the workhouse institute place and they're all mournful because of that odd and traumatic axe murder. Someone tries to be playfully scary with a monster mask and Tommy flips out and beats him up! This is a drama about the dysfunctional relationships between the involuntary residents of a workhouse.

Ugh, now we're back on the Killjoy characters. They are extremely unpleasant to behold. I hope Jason really is still killing people and that he takes care of those two irritants.

New characters, a waitress at a café and a hot doggin' yuppie in a muscle car trying to impress her, It seems like it's always important in these movies to have loud asshole characters, but there are really a lot of them in this one. If it's because they think we want to see assholes get killed… they have a point.

Hot Dog was doing some coke lines in his car waiting for the waitress when he very abruptly, but not unpredictably got axed right in his bald spot! Then the waitress comes out to find him and gets axed in the sternum. Those two, and the leather jacket dudes, don't have any ostensible relationship to the workhouse kids, although the leather dudes mentioned hearing about the murder there. Are we supposed to suspect that Jason is following Tommy and killing randos in the area surrounding where he is?

So there's this couple, a frisky, playful couple that are, I think, residents at the mental health facility, but they smolder with the carefree lust of what can only be described as camp counselors. They sneak off into the woods to get naked and fool around! An old man is watching them! The old man gets knifed in the gut! Then the girl of the couple gets sheared to death while the guy is taking a break somewhere. But he returns to find what happened to her - we see that he sheared her right in the eyes, it's gross! Then he gets a very good death; the killer secures him to a tree with a leather strap, which he tightens and tightens and tightens with his makeshift branch-crank until his skull is crushed! This consistent ingenuity of homicide methodology can only come from the one, the only, the master, Jason Voorhees.

New character alert… I kind of like this part! So Reggie the Reckless is given a ride to visit his big brother at the trailer park where he lives. Reggie and Big Brother are really happy to see each other! They get along very, very well! Big Brother even offers Reggie an enchilada! We don't see the enchilada! They're in a van, not even a trailer, and the dialogue plainly tells us that Big Brother has an enchilada next to him that he makes available to Reggie! Reggie does not accept the proffered enchilada! It is funny that we do not see what the enchilada looks like! What does an enchilada in a van look like!

Meanwhile Tommy gets into big trouble because someone nearby with this movie's requisite asshole level notices him waiting around near the trailer park, and correctly surmises that he is from the nearby mental health facility. This asshole starts a fight and Tommy has incredible martial arts skills so he beats up the asshole. Why does he have those skills.

Big Brother had to go to the outhouse immediately for enchilada-related reasons after Reggie left. He and his girlfriend have a cute exchange while he's in there, and just when I think that I like it when this movie's assholes die and plus I also like Big Brother, he and the girlfriend get killed. Big Brother gets perforated with metal spikes that are shoved at him through the walls of the outhouse. I am disappoint. This is probably this series' version of the first ten minutes of Up.

Oh, so the Killjoy characters… one of them was the guy that Tommy beat up, and the other one is his mom. Yeah, they hate the mental health facility, so it make some sense that he would pick a fight with Tommy so rashly. He returns home on his motorcycle but he's so mad about getting beat up that he just rides around outside his house, raging loudly about getting thumped and demanding that his mom do something about it! But he gets beheaded by a knife that takes advantage of his perpetual motorcycle operation. Then a butcher knife comes through the window at his mom and she's dead, face down in some soup cauldron she'd been obsessing over.

A word about the character with the speech impediment. One of the workhouse kids stutters. Inclusion! He just had some awkward interactions with the couple of ladies in the house and then turned around and saw a raised butcher knife. No more stuttering guy.

I should mention, the glimpses we've gotten of the killer are very, very unrevealing. The movie is making sure we don't have enough information to conclude for sure that it is Jason, although sometimes Tommy has visions of Jason standing somewhere and looking at him.

Another character died that's in that house. A girl gets naked and goes to bed, sees the body of the stuttering guy that has been placed there to frighten her, and then gets macheted through the mattress.

Then another killing. This character who has been vividly characterized throughout as "girl who is only always ever listening to music that she is clearly super into so much that no one is able to talk to her", she's being like that in her room and the killer just goes in and stabs her in the gut.

Reggie and the Nice Woman find those last three bodies stacked on a bed, and they run away, but on their way out of the house, Jason, total actual Jason, bursts through a door at them! He has great posture and wears a clean jumpsuit. They run away into the nearby woods and see an old-fashioned station-wagon ambulance. They open a door of it and a body is in it! I don't recognize the victim but there have been a lot lately. But also look.. Jason! Nearby! They run away.

The two get separated and Nice Woman comes upon Nice Man spiked through the head into a tree, so very dead! I don't remember what we last saw of him.

She runs back to the main house, and the cook, who is Reggie's grandfather, is thrown through the window at her! He has been murdered! Murdered I tell you! She runs away.

Jason is slowly chasing her with his machete as she stumbles through the mud. He is about to kill her but then he is distracted by a tractor coming at him, operated by Reggie! Reggie actually runs him down with the tractor! It's actually a bulldozer. He bulldozed Jason!

He looks dead but then he grabs her leg. And then they run away.

A very exciting confrontation ensues in the nearby barn where they run. Jason slowly pursues them in there, and the woman comes at him with a chainsaw. They sort of swordfight but with chainsaw and machete.

Tommy, who has been we-don't-know-where, arrives and the dynamic changes because of the strange connection Jason and Tommy have. Or at least Tommy thinks they have a connection… Jason just walks up to him and slashes him with the machete.

Everyone moves up to the loft of the barn. Tommy looks very badly laid out, so between Reggie and the woman a big struggle happens. But it ends with Jason getting his hand chopped off by Tommy, and Jason falling onto the ground which has this odd grid of metal spikes that kill him just fine.

But! The mask comes off, and it isn't Jason! Isn't Jason at all! It's one of the men we've seen around, I forget who.

Oh, the next scene explains it all. It was "Roy". Roy was one of the cops, or paramedics (?), who responded to the weird axe murder of the Chocolate Smear kid. It turns out that he is the father of Chocolate Smear, and he did all the murders as a very unstable response to that. And The news clippings he was carrying out explain that he decided to make it look like a Jason murder spree.

The movie ends with Tommy having a dream about murdering the woman, waking up in a hospital room and having a Jason phantom vision, then looking at a hockey mask that is in a drawer of his hospital room's dresser! Then there is a quick final couple of shots that suggest that he has insanely put the hockey mask on and is gonna knife the woman when she enters the room to visit him. The credits roll as he's about to probably stab her.

So this was kind of hard to get through. I mean, they are all bad movies, and objectively it seems like number 4 was worse than this one. But I was less inclined than normal to fight through the disinterest. It's worth noting that they were clearly trying for some semblance of a "new beginning", and they even managed to make it that while also explaining how this is a continuation of the Jason story. And there was all the grisly death you could want, which is what we're here for in the first place. But none of the scares were good or memorable, and they're making no effort to one-up the earlier movies in terms of gore effects. And I really lost track of the characters. Except for the ones I hated.

(next: Friday the 13th Part VI - Jason Lives)

#friday the 13th

2 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

Text

It Chapter Two: Aged-Up Protagonists and the Umbridge Effect

Writing reviews, metas, and the like is a lot about timing. If you don’t craft your writing in the immediate aftermath of your source’s release, someone else will beat you to it and, chances are, your audience will be less enthused about reading the same arguments weeks later. (Admittedly, that’s up for debate. I for one am happy to read about the same shit for years on end.) Thus, when I didn’t have the time or the mental energy to write about It: Chapter Two immediately after seeing it in theaters, I knew within a few days that I’d lost a lot of ground. Fans and critics alike have already spoken about the film’s major draws, namely the update on Richie’s sexuality and the canonizing of a beloved, thirty-year-old ship. We’ve also covered the issues that arose out of those positives. In 2019, is it necessary to show a hate crime in such violent detail? By giving us queer characters, have Muschietti and King unintentionally fallen into the trap of treating them badly? One is dead and the other mourns while the straight couple passionately kiss beneath the lake. Faithful adaptation vs. modern activism is a tricky balance to strike. I could rehash all those arguments here, but why bother? They’ve been articulated better by others already. Besides, falling behind means that I now have the space to discuss something just as important to me.

The Losers’ ages.

Now, I’m not sure if you all have noticed, but fantasy adventures aren’t really geared towards adults. That is to say, stories often contain adult content, but that’s not the same thing as putting adults at the center of the narrative. I’ve experienced a niggling sense of displeasure that’s grown stronger with each passing year and it took until my mid-twenties to figure out what it was: I am no longer the hero of many of my favorite stories. Because I’ve grown up. Harry Potter is concerned primarily with the trials and tribulations of characters between the ages of eleven and eighteen. If we return to that world---such as through a certain cursed play---the focus must shift to the new, shiny generation. Anyone who falls through a wardrobe is bound to be a child and if they dare grow up? They’re no longer allowed access to such a fantastic place. Kids are the ones who find the Hundred Acre Woods, or fall down rabbit holes, get daemons, battle Other Mothers when the world gets flipped, or head off onto all sorts of elementary and high school adventures. Sometimes, even those who are adults mistakenly get caught up in this trend. Frodo might be in his fifties, but as a small, kindly hobbit he comes across as younger than the rest of the Fellowship. Since the release of Jackson’s trilogy I’ve corrected more than one new fan who assumed (somewhat logically) that he is in his early twenties, max. It’s an easy mistake to make when we’ve grown accustomed to children and young adults taking center stage in so many fantastic, high-profile adventures.

Of course, there are plenty of counters to this feeling. Just look at Game of Thrones. Though we see much of the story through younger perspectives---such as the Stark siblings---the vast majority of the cast is made up of adults, playing just as pivotal a role as the up-and-comers. Fantasy, Science Fiction, and other speculative story-lines are by no means solely in the hands of minors, yet I think it’s also worth acknowledging that a good majority of those stories do shape our media landscape. Or, if they’re not strictly minors, they’re characters who embody a sort of static young adulthood, the Winchesters and the Shadowhunters and all the television superheroes who might gesture towards markers of adulthood---we have long term relationships, hold down jobs, can impersonate FBI agents without anyone batting an eye---yet are still able to maintain a nebulous form of youth. They all (try to) look and act as if they’re right out of college. The standards of film and television demand that actors appear twenty-years-old even when they’re pushing forty, and the standards of much literature insists that twenty is simply too old for an adventure, period. I can still clearly recall two moments of shock (later agreed upon by my friends) when I encountered unexpectedly older protagonists in genre fiction: the realization that Sophie actually spends the majority of Howl’s Moving Castle as a very old woman and that The Magicians takes place in graduate school. “Wow,” I remember thinking. “When’s the last time that happened?”

What does all this have to do with It: Chapter Two? I don’t have any big twist for you here. It was just really refreshing to see such a fantastical story where our cast is all forty or older. Seriously, can we take a moment to appreciate exactly how much King undermined expectations there? The first half of the novel is structured precisely how we assume it ‘should’ be. There’s a mysterious threat, there are children caught up in the middle of it, and ultimately only they are capable of saving the day. We know this story. We even have the characterization of the town itself to reinforce this structure, a place so warped by evil that only the very young with their open-mindedness and imagination are capable of seeing Derry for what it truly is, illustrated beautifully in the film by Mr. Marsh straight up not noticing a whole room full of blood.

Though they’re It’s prey, children are also the only ones who have any potential power over him. You have to be able to acknowledge a problem in order to fix it and King could have easily ended his story at the first chapter alone, with the group somehow managing to defeat Pennywise for good the first time they set foot in the sewers. A part of me is still shocked he didn’t, if only because the young savior as an archetype was embedded within Western culture far earlier than It’s 1986 publication. From Carrie to The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Pet Sematary to Firestarter, King is no stranger to putting children at the center of fantastic tales. Yet he’s also given us numerous adult protagonists, managing to find an enjoyable balance between the two, both within individual novels and his entire corpus. It represents that balance, not just imagining a story where seven (yes, I’m counting Stan) middle-age adults manage to finally save their town, but actually setting up a twenty-seven year jump to allow for that. It's the best of both worlds, exploring the difficulties inherent in both childhood and adulthood, arguing that we need each---that imagination and that experience---if we hope to come out alive.

While watching It: Chapter Two I took note of how many people laughed throughout the film, and not just at the moments set up to be funny (looking at you, Richie). Rather, the film that two years ago had scared the pants off of movie-goers now entertained them in a much more relaxed manner. No one was hiding behind their popcorn; there were no shrieks of fright. I’ve seen more than one reviewer express displeasure at this change. What the hell happened? Isn’t an It film supposed to be scary? Well, yes and no. I think what a lot of people miss is how providing us with an adult cast inherently changes the way fear manifests, both literally in the case of Pennywise’s illusions and thematically in regards to the film itself. This sloppy bitch, as established, preys on children. His tricks have the illogical, fantastical veneer that reflect how children see the world: you’re scared of women with horrifically elongated faces, zombie-like lepers, and hungry mummies. They’re literal monsters emerging out from under the bed. Of course, as adults watching the story we’re easily able to see how these monsters represent much deeper, intangible fears: growing up and disappointing your father, falling ill like your mother always claims you will (to say nothing of contracting AIDS in connection with a budding queer identity), and the danger that comes with being alone and ostracized. Sometimes It: Chapter One gestures more firmly towards those underlying fears---such as the burnt hands reaching for Mike when we know his family died in a fire---but only once does it make the real horror overt, when Pennywise takes Mr. Marsh’s face and asks Bev if she's still his little girl.

Outside of pedophilia and sexual abuse, Chapter One’s real horror is mostly coded, symbolic, left up to (admittedly rather obvious at times) interpretation. It’s just under the surface and we’re meant to be distracted by the fact that, allegorical or not, there’s still a very creepy thing hunting our protagonists from the shadows. For two hours we take on a child’s perspective, biting our nails at all the things we once imagined hid inside our closets. We’re scared because they’re scared.

That mindset irrevocably changes once your group grows up. Forty-year-olds simply don’t freak out in the same way a bunch of thirteen-year-olds would, especially now that they know precisely what’s happening and have the mental fortitude to combat it. At least to an extent. Chapter Two isn’t as traditionally scary for the simple reason that the film now acknowledges what all adults eventually must: there’s nothing in the closet, there’s nothing hiding under your bed. Or if there is, it’s something tangible that can be handled with a calm(ish) demeanor and a well-placed ax. An adult might scream when something jumps out at them, but they’re not as inclined to cower. Adults might still be scared, but they’re better able to push that fear aside in order to take action. The group first reached that point in the sewers--- “Welcome to the Losers’ club, asshole!”---and now fully embodies that mindset with nearly three decades of growth and experience to draw on. This is why Ben investigating the library as a teen reads as teeth-chatteringly scary, but Ben and Bill as adults investigating the skateboard produces only a comment about how they're getting used to this nonsense. They know, and we as the audience know, what the real threat is and whether or not we need to shield our eyes when something starts clunking its way down the stairs.

All of which isn’t to say that Chapter Two isn’t scary. It’s simply scary in a much more realistic manner, killer clowns and Native American rituals aside. The fears have been aged-up along with the cast, stripping away the child-like fantasies that made us wet our pants in Chapter One. What’s the scariest moment outside of the jump scares? When two men and a kid beat a gay man and then chuck him in the river to drown. You’ll note that, unlike in the first film, Pennywise doesn’t actually have to do much work here. Seasoning people up with fear? The rest of the world is doing that for him. That first scene detailing a truly horrific hate crime (which, by the way, is based off of true events) results in a meal delivered straight to Pennywise’s arms. It’s people who targeted that couple, beat one of them within an inch of his life, and then tossed him over a bridge, bleeding and shrieking for help. All Pennywise had to do was scoop him from the water and take that first bite. He’s incidental to the film’s most cringe-worthy scene. We can argue all we want about how it’s Pennywise’s influence that “makes” the town this way, but any queer viewer knows that's simply not the case. In 2019 we're still living this horror, no Pennywise required.

Likewise, the two children we see murdered are much more overtly grappling with fears that have nothing to do with fantastical monsters. Dean, the little boy Bill tries to save in lieu of Georgie, is rightly petrified because a seemingly crazy adult is now stalking him. We as the audience know that Bill is just trying to help----that he’s not the real danger here----but that’s not the perspective this kid has, nor is it the issue the film is grappling with. We first see him approaching an idol of his, Richie, and instead of an enjoyable experience he winds up getting yelled at. The It films are only tangentially interested in the status of fans and their relationship with celebrities, but we know it’s a common theme for King’s work overall. Look at Misery and look at this cameo: a disenchanted fan of the 21st century, criticizing a writer’s novel and leveraging him for money. “You can afford it,” he tells Bill, swindling him simply because he can. The context of this little boy as a fan and Richie as the older, bigger, larger-than-life comedian adds another layer to the interaction. It’s not just an adult verbally attacking a child, it’s an adult this kid worshiped enough to recognize and quote his material from memory. Who easily walks away from that?

This little boy then finds Bill shrieking at a sewer opening, is manhandled by him, and told in the scariest way possible, born of Bill’s own fear, that he has to get out of dodge, fast. There are scary things out there, Dean freely admits that he’s heard kids’ voices coming from the tub drain, but right now the scariest thing is how badly the adults in his life are failing him: parents (from what little we can gather) are distant, his comedic idol is mean, and now this stranger is traumatizing him in the middle of the street. Once again, it’s easy to see how Pennywise isn’t needed to sow fear or even enact cruelty; he’s not a requirement for horrible things in the world, he’s merely their reflection. We see the same setup with the little girl under the bleachers. That scene demonstrates precisely how not scary Pennywise is. Here’s this child putting aside her discomfort over his looks and agreeing to be his friend. What’s worse than a clown with a creepy expression? The knowledge that all the other kids have already rejected you because of a birthmark on your face. Bullying is the far greater threat and one we’re 100% more likely to deal with in our lives than a killer clown, so the second film re-frames Pennywise to better acknowledge this. He’s scary because things like bullying and neglect exist to give him an easy in. He’s even scary because in this moment, hiding under the bleachers, manipulating this little girl, he’s fully embodying a child predator. Chapter One was a primal, “There’s a monster hiding in the shadows” kind of fear. Chapter Two is a, “We’re all going to die from climate change” kind of fear. Logical and largely inescapable. Characters like Richie don't need Pennywise to take some fantastic form to scare him. Homophobia has already done all the work.

Ultimately, I think of this as the Umbridge Effect. Who’s the most hated character in the Harry Potter franchise? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the Dark Lord responsible for two wars, attempted genocide, and the death of our title character.

We despise Umbridge because she’s real. She’s relatable. She’s grounded in a way that Voldemort could never hope to be. We have no fear that an all-powerful sorcerer is suddenly going to come out of the woodwork and attempt to enslave and/or eradicate everyone without magic. That’s just not on our list of things to worry about. A corrupt politician, however? An instructor who uses her power to emotionally and physically torture students, getting away with it because of a cutesy, hyper-feminine persona? We’ve seen stuff like that. We’ve lived it. Umbridge represents all the real wrongs in the world when it comes to bigotry and privilege. Therefore we hate her---we fear her---in a way we could never hate or fear Voldemort. Now, in It: Chapter Two, Pennywise is the new Voldemort. Is an alien clown with an unhinged jaw and three rows of teeth technically scary? Sure, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the real problems that plague the cast: abuse, anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation, the fear that someone will hurt or outright kill you over some part of your identity. These are things we continue to fear long after the credits roll and the lights come up, and they’re now barely coded in the story:

It occurred to me halfway through my viewing that the people laughing at the characters’ new plights were the same ones who didn’t flinch when a gay man’s head cracked into the pavement. I had both hands over my mouth during that scene and I wasn’t snickering whenever Eddie had a panic attack, or Ben’s self-confidence took a hit. Because those moments, like our opening, hit pretty close to home for me; I didn’t find them embarrassingly humorous in the way much of my theater did. So many reviews in the last two months have insisted that Chapter Two isn't scary, but I think that depends entirely on whether or not you're struggling with these now explicit threats. We're not dealing with mummies and creepy portraits anymore. Instead, tell me how you feel about holding your partner's hand in public. Do certain memories make you vomit? Or freeze? Consider heading upstairs to the bath? The horror is dependent on how the audience views Bill's stutter coming back, or the bruises on Bev's arms.

The cast grew up. It’s a fantastic twist. It also means that the horror needed to grow up with them, resulting in a film that could no longer function as a simple, scary clown movie. Our ending reminds us of that. When did people laugh the loudest? When the Losers’ club was bullying Pennywise into something vulnerable. And yeah, I get it. It’s a cheesy moment that we feel the need to laugh at because it’s just so unexpected. Awkward, even. Since when are badass horror monsters defeated with a bit of backyard peer pressure straight out of middle school? If this were any other story, Pennywise would have been defeated by Eddie’s poker. The most scared member of the group finally finds his courage! He has faith that this simple object can kill monsters! He throws it in a perfect arc, splitting the deadlights in two! That’s a heroic ending. Something epic and fantastical, relying on the idea that the Good Guys will win simply because they believe in themselves... but that’s not how the real world works. That ending is a child’s fantasy. Sometimes you do the heroic thing and end up dying anyway. Which isn’t to say that the heroic thing is useless. It saves Richie’s life. It’s just that a single act can’t cure all our ills in the way that storybooks often claim they can.

How then does an adult deal with huge, intangible problems like bigotry and mental illness---the things Pennywise now fully represents? By saying “Fuck you” to those things again and again with all the support you can possibly wrangle up at your side. You refuse to let those issues control you; you drag those child-like representations into the light and remind yourself just how small they really are. We don’t get to beat something like depression by spearing it with a fire poker in some overblown finale. If we did, we’d all be having a much better time. All you can do is band together with friends and scream that you’re not going to let your fears define you anymore. Pennywise is a symptom of all the true horrors in the world. Sadly, you can’t beat those with a baseball bat. But you can acknowledge the heart of the issue, literally in the case of five friends squeezing until that one symptom, at least, is gone.

Image Credit

#1:https://www.screengeek.net/2018/07/10/it-chapter-2-character-mashups/

#2:https://earlybirdbooks.com/the-re-read-the-lion-the-witch-and-the-wardrobe

#3:https://www.vox.com/culture/2019/7/4/19413771/stranger-things-season-3-review-recap-hopper-elevenrussians

#4:https://comicbook.com/movies/2019/08/08/harry-potter-movies-review-10-years-late-snape-dumbledore-franchise/

#5:https://www.denofgeek.com/us/tv/netflix/277257/give-the-dragon-prince-a-chance

#6:https://www.forbes.com/sites/lindamaleh/2019/04/23/she-ra-and-the-princesses-of-power-season-2-review/#ec7022c42953

#7:https://www.commonsensemedia.org/tv-reviews/avatar-the-last-airbender

#8:https://www.newsweek.com/buffy-vampire-slayer-turns-20-charisma-carpenter-shows-enduring-legacy-and-566123

#9:http://theinspirationroom.com/daily/2009/alice-in-wonderland-the-movie/

#10:https://www.hindustantimes.com/tv/game-of-thrones-this-edited-out-scene-between-bran-and-sansa-reveals-so-much-about-finale/story-qFDHflH2dO6Kcki1wgsEyM.html

#11:https://www.cinemablend.com/new/Why-Ender-Game-Best-Possible-Adaptation-Book-40110.html

#12:https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/supernatural-end-season-15-cw-1196579

#13:https://www.slashfilm.com/it-chapter-two-scene/

#14:https://www.vox.com/culture/2017/9/12/16286316/it-cleaning-up-blood-scene-feminism

#15:http://www.allocine.fr/film/fichefilm-208633/photos/detail/?cmediafile=21647122

#16:https://stanleyyuris.tumblr.com/post/188300897715/chaotic-losers

#17:https://whatculture.com/film/it-chapter-2-every-character-ranked-worst-to-best?page=3

#18:https://www.reddit.com/r/harrypotter/comments/7uhrkz/the_most_hated_character/

#19:https://9gag.com/gag/am2X2Z4?ref=pn.mw

#20:https://screenrant.com/harry-potter-hated-characters-unpopular-worst-ranked/quickview/17

GIFs1-5:https://the-pretty-poisons.tumblr.com/post/188344826978/why-is-everyone-looking-at-me-\like-this

#It #It Chapter 2 #It Chapter Two #It Chapter Two Spoilers #reddie #mymetas

71 notes · View notes

sweetlialia · 5 years ago

Text

It’s my time (to chase the monsters away)

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ AO3

As they left the room hand in hand, Harry couldn’t help but keep on worrying, analysing whatever signs Draco could ever be transmitting. Was he holding his hand harder than usual? Avoiding his gaze by watching the ground as they walk down the stairs? Was he a step away from spiralling again? Would he asked for help this time? Barely noticing, they stopped before the boys’ room.

“ Harry?

- Sorry, you were saying something?

- Are you okay?

- Yeah.” He shrugged, and Draco was taking his other hand, pulling him closer.

“ Has it something to do with Lucius?

- I’m worried about you…

- Please, don’t…” he asked gently, cupping Harry’s face. “I’m older now, it will be ok.

- But if

- Then I’ll tell you.

- As soon?

- As soon. I promise, Harry. Okay?

- Okay.” he forced a smile, leaning on Draco’s hand. “But don’t you dare go anywhere without me.

- Until you tell me too.” He smiled back. “Now can I have a kiss before we get into the monsters den?

- Come here then, mister Malfoy Potter.”

Unnoticed as they opened the door to the boys room, Harry kissed his husband again. Laying down on their stomach, three of their kids were playing with some lost -and probably know found- wizard chess pieces. Maybe even Ron’s missing ones.

“ Is that how you say hi to daddy?” Draco asked, finally making himself known.

“ We didn’t hear him come home.” James drawled, barely raising his head.

As Draco shook his head slightly, Harry leant against the doorframe, posing as if he’s been casually waiting here for the last decade. “ But maybe now you can say hi?

- Daddy!” Scorpius shouted, raising up from the ground.

“ Still got you to love me.” he joked in the blond locks as Scorpius had gotten on his tiptoes to hug him. Unaffected, James had nodded loosely, engaging one of his piece in a magical duel with Albus. Taken by surprise, he barely looked away saying hi that his pawn was taking out his sword.

“I see we are disturbing a pretty serious game…” Draco said, mischievously. “Maybe we’d better leave you and ask Teddy and Scorp? “he paused, looking over his child to smile in agreement to whatever was to agree with. “to decide what we’ll have for dinner…

- Not falling, you said it was soup” James retorqued, taking his horse to the battlefield.

“ But in the meantime Papa changed his mind.” Harry joined, pausing dramatically. “He agreed over take away.

- Take away? But you’re not on holiday yet -

- Can we have burgers!

- Or pizza!”

Having gathered their little herd downstairs, they summoned the take away flyers. Half an hour later, they had agree on food. Waiting for the delivery, they still had to choose the movie. Merlin helped them for they had five children and not two to agree upon anything.

“ Harry? ” Teddy whispered, hesitantly. Draco had fall asleep before Elsa even met Christophe, and Albus, snuggled against him, hadn’t hold much longer. Scorpius and Lily were now sitting on the carpet, as close as allowed to the telly but James was still wide awake on the couch.

“ Um?

- Is Draco okay?”

As his godson had just done, he looked over to be sure Draco was fast asleep and no one listening. “ He will be, don’t worry.

- The letter… What was it about?”

Making sure James wasn’t listening, Harry still paused before answering. For sure Teddy wasn’t a kid anymore, and back when he was his age, he was already engaged in a war. But his childhood has been stolen, and he wouldn’t let anything turn his kids into adults before they’ve grown enough. It was his role to protect them, to protect everyone in the room. To take care of them. With a sigh, he picked his side ; being lied to had never helped him once in his life. “His father’s sick.” He told quietly, loud enough for James not to care, quietly enough for him not to hear.

“ How sick? Flu sick or

- We don’t really know yet, but he’s gotten transferred to St Mungo. The, um.. ministry’s agents” he eluded, watching over James from the corner of his eye “don’t tend to be over sympathizing with the detainees health, so it’s probably not just a flu. Draco will call Cissy tomorrow.

- ‘kay.” He breathed out before biting his lips.

- Don’t worry yourself over it, okay Teddy? Am I being heard?

- I’ve heard… It’s just… It was kinda scary, you know? It was like he locked himself inside his head and then up in your room. Yeah it was … I thought someone was dead. Or worse.

- Expelled?

- He didn’t look mad at all.” Teddy shook his head no while Harry scolded himself mentally. “He… He didn’t even look sad, he didn’t even look as if... you know? like in these old painting in Cissy’s house? The one where he’s like sixteen and standing with his parents?

- Oh, yes. I see which one you’re talking about…” Done during Voldemort’s stay at the Manor, this family portrait has always given him the chills and an urge to protect Draco even more. The painter had hidden every trace of mistreatment, but hadn’t thought of putting some life in Draco’s eyes. At the time he was almost dead inside, and it was now frozen for eternity. How much he hated that portrait. He’d take Walburga’s screaming one in his very own bedroom to get the Malfoy’s covered. But Narcissa hadn’t even seem inclined in taking it down. He had asked once about it but she had walked away, mumbling something about tea. “Things have always been twisted when he comes to his father… He… He learned that he had to keep everything inside, and when it comes to his parents, he tends to start doing it again. But I’m taking care of him now. And remember that whatever happens, we’re a family.

- I know.

- D’you wanna sit closer?

- I’m not twelve anymore.

- You liked hugs back then. But seriously, Ted, don’t ever hesitate to talk to me. Or Draco. Whatever happens, we’re here for you.

- I know. But if you need anything, like babysitting, I will.

- Come here.. I don’t care how old you are. You’ll never be too old for me not to show you I love you.” He added as Teddy put his head on his shoulder.

“Can we watch it again?” Lily asked excitedly as the generic started scrolling on the screen. On their side of the couch, Draco and Albus where still fast asleep, and there wasn’t any doubt that Scorpius wasn’t going to follow them quickly in Morpheus’s embrace.

“ Not a chance. It’s late now, and you got to sleep.

- But I’m not tired!

- Look Lils, Papa and Al are already sleeping.

- Men are fragile.

- Has Ginny told you that?

- She told auntie Luna.

- Should’ve guessed.” He smiled, turning off the telly. “Now up! If your brothers are ready for bed before you, then you’re a dust flavoured bean.

- You are !” and then she was already out of the room, James on her heels. He probably didn’t want to be a nasty bean either. Scorpius’s hand on his and a still sleeping Albus on an arm, Harry got upstairs just in time to cast their tempus. Waiting by the sink, neither Lily nor James seemed willing to spend more than three minutes with their toothbrush in hand.

Going downstairs, he found Teddy covering Draco’s sleeping form with a plaid.

“Aren’t you going to bed?

- I am the adult here, young man.

- But I’m the one not working tomorrow morning.

- Then. Goodnight, Teddy.

- Night Harry.” He smiled back, opening his book.

Taking another minute by their side, he finally went back upstair.

He was still awake when he heard the door opened. Eyes closed, he knew Draco was trying to move as quietly as possible, but still, he’d recognised his footsteps anyhow. He heard the noise of the soft fabrics of his clothes fall on the ground then felt the blanket being opened, letting the fresh air in. Holding his breath, he waited for Draco to get into the bed and curl himself around him. Putting his hand on Draco’s arm, he moved closer, filling every gaps between their bodies.

“ Goodnight, Love.” he heard before falling asleep.

@secretlycrazyhummingbird

#Thank you for reading!#Lia writes #It's my time #Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Teddy Lupin #James Sirius Potter #Albus Severus Potter #Scorpius Malfoy #Lily Luna Potter #Draco Malfoy Potter #my writing

15 notes · View notes

soloragoldsun · 5 years ago

Text

Favorite to Least Favorite Kyoto Winds Routes

Now that I have played through all of the routes, I would like to weigh in on who I liked and why. This will just delve a little into each route, mostly talking about my personal opinion rather than being a true summary. In the future, I may replay them again to give more detailed reviews of each. This game is good enough for me to actually want to do that! In the meantime, here’s my overall opinion of everyone. Remember, this is a Kyoto Winds list. I have not played Edo Blossoms yet, so this is purely based on the first game. Spoilers below.

#1. Favorite Angel of Perfection: Yamazaki Susumu

This gorgeous piece of wonderfulness shot up to the top of my list early on, and has remained there ever since. I love his route because there is a real sense of mutual respect between him and Yukimura. Unlike many of the other Shinsengumi members, who focus on protecting her and who often make her feel like an outsider, Yamazaki recognizes her potential in the medical field and becomes a mentor to her. He shows her that she doesn’t have to be a fighter in order to be useful. By the end of the route, Yukimura’s confidence is so high, she ends up being the one to convince Yamazaki of his worth when he laments his inability to fight in certain scenarios.

Also, I am an utter sucker for the loner type who quietly supports their love interest from a distance before the two even get to know each other. Yamazaki straight-up says that he was watching Yukimura and rooting for her in secret from the beginning! Another plus is how perfect Yamazaki is at showing affection. He’s very gentle, but very straightforward. Once he knows what his feelings are, he’s not shy about making sure Yukimura knows how much he cares. I just about died when he took her hands after being comforted by her and told her how strong she was and how much she meant to him.

In short, respecting your significant other and telling them you care is totes sexy. Yamazaki does that, and then some. He’s also hella pretty, and his blushy face is the cutest shit ever.

#2. Precious Sunshine Boy: Toudou Heisuke

Not to be dramatic, but I would die for Heisuke. His relationship with Yukimura is absolutely adorable from the very beginning! He’s the first of the main cast to be outwardly kind to her, and regularly stands up for her whenever he can. He gets major points for frequently reminding everyone that the Shinsengumi were the ones to originally take Yukimura prisoner, and are the ones at fault for most of the bad situations that require them to protect her.

I love that he treats Yukimura as his friend from the start, even telling her to call him by his first name due to their closeness in age. There are so many scenes when the two are playing around and enjoying each other’s company. However, there are also several deeper scenes that delve into the conflict Heisuke feels concerning the Shinsengumi. His departure with Itou leads to one of the most beautiful scenes in the game, when he and Yukimura meet each other in a teahouse. They can’t acknowledge that they know each other, since communication between the two groups is forbidden, so they spend hours just talking about the weather and other minor things just so they can be together for a little while.

Heisuke is a beautiful boy, and there is so! Much! Hand! Holding!

#3. Adorable Student Bean: Souma Kazue

I was not expecting to like Souma’s route as much as I did, but holy shit! He’s the cutest thing ever! His relationship with Yukimura is completely different than anyone else’s for two reasons: One, he doesn’t know she’s a girl until later. Two, Yukimura is his teacher when he joins the Shinsengumi. He spends most of the route referring to her as Yukimura-sensei, and is shown to respect her a great deal. The mutual respect and building-up in this route reminds me a lot of Yamazaki’s route, so I think it’s a trait of mentor/mentee relationships in this game.

One thing I like is that Souma is respectful and protective of Yukimura both before and after her gender is revealed. He rushes to protect her from Saburo’s harassment while still thinking she’s a man, and continues to call her his sensei after the truth is revealed. Also, there’s more of a sense of the two spending a lot of time together over the course of the route, which makes the romantic buildup seem very real. I especially like that this romance puts Yukimura in the more dominant role. I hope she’s the one to make the first move and kiss him in Edo Blossoms. I will die of happiness if this happens!

He also gets major bonus points for trying to sleep-cuddle Yukimura at the end. I am a sucker for sleep cuddles!

#4. Emotional Support Samurai: Harada Sanosuke

I liked Sano long before playing his route. He is another character who constantly strives to make Yukimura feel better about her situation and comfort her when things go wrong. This is even clearer in his route, which has several scenes of him looking out for her mental health, whether that involves sneaking out to take her for a nighttime walk or arranging a meeting with Sen so that the two can enjoy some wholesome girl-talk (which Yukimura was sorely lacking).

I did feel that Chapter Five was a bit lackluster in this route compared to some of the others, but it did a good job of solidifying the relationship between the two. Sano learns of Yukimura’s healing powers and is stunned, but insists that she isn’t a monster and that he will still protect her, since he sees it as a man’s duty to protect his lady. He called her his lady, and I am dead, okay?

As a romantic route, it had a perfect amount of buildup and sweet moments. I look forward to what comes next.

#5. Puppy Dog Eyes: Iba Hachiro

I’ll be real: This route could have easily secured the second-place spot, and even been a contender for first-place. It had everything I love in a romance. It had childhood friends reuniting. It had sweet, sweet backstory. It had probably the nicest character in the entire fucking game! Seriously, every scene with Iba and Yukimura was just so tender and beautiful! It felt more like a romantic story than pretty much all of the other routes.

So, why is it down here at number five? Well, it’s because YUKIMURA IS A FREAKING DUM-DUM IN THIS ROUTE! This woman was able to see through the feelings of some of the most closed-off characters in other routes, but somehow can’t figure out why Iba keeps putting himself out there for her. He literally takes her on dates, goes on about how wonderful she is, calls her his inspiration, and even calls her his love toward the end! And still, we have moments of her being like “Why is he doing this for me. This can’t just be an obligation to a childhood friend...” No shit, Sherlock! Does the man have to wear a shirt that has “I LOVE YUKIMURA” written on it in big red letters?!

So, yeah. This was a mixed bag. The good outweighs the bad enough for it to be higher on the list, but I really hope Yukimura actually gets a clue in Edo Blossoms.

#6. Sword Nerd: Saito Hajime

Ah, the classic Quiet Loner with a Heart of Gold. It’s an oldie, but a goodie. Saito is a good, solid route with a sprinkling of cute moments that balance with the emotional distance of other moments. Cute moments include Saito geeking out over swords, the snow bunny, and Saito freaking coming back from a freaking spy mission in order to nurse Yukimura back to health!

This route was definitely about building Saito’s respect for Yukimura, who becomes less timid and more determined to prove herself. As a result, she does spend a longer amount of time feeling like and outsider and doubting her worth. I look forward to seeing what happens in Edo Blossoms, now that she’s found her resolve.

Seriously, I am a sucker for sick fics! Why is this game pushing all my buttons?

#7. Epic Dork Bro: Nagakura Shinpachi

And here we are at the last member of the Golden Trio. Nagakura is a precious dork, and I love him to pieces! He spends most of the route acting as a goofy older brother figure to Yukimura, and the two develop a genuinely-adorable relationship. The scene when he falls asleep in her room and gets all embarrassed when he wakes up was particularly cute.

I did feel that the ending of his route was a bit rushed compared to the others. Also, I never felt that shift from him feeling like an older brother to him being a romantic interest. I look forward to seeing that change actually happen in Edo Blossoms.

Overall, this was a route with good moments that tapered off just a bit at the end, but I still loved it.

#8. The True Sexy Demon Man: Hijikata Toshizo

I genuinely enjoyed Hijikata’s route. I just happened to like seven routes better than it. The development between him and Yukimura is very solid, and it’s nice seeing him go from being stern and scary to gruff and caring. This route also made me hate Kazama even more than I already had. Seriously, let’s kill that fucker in the next game!

The appeal as a romance route was a bit lessened by Hijikata’s often-derisive attitude, and the fact that he calls Yukimura a kid from beginning to end. Like, hello? Talking to a grown-ass adult, here. If Yukimura’s old enough to be waifu material for a creepy Demon, she’s old enough to not be called “Kid.”

This had decent buildup, and the beginning of some good payoff. I’ll be waiting, oh second game, for my sweet reward.

#9. Threatening Jerkass: Okita Souji

I actually did warm up to Okita by the end of his route, but holy fuck did I have to slog through a lot of eye rolls to get to that point! He’s supposed to be the asshole who secretly cares, but he makes a little too much of a secret of it throughout most of the route. And, I’m sorry, but you can’t make me believe that him scaring a group of kids is actually an endearing scene. Can’t do it, game.

I did enjoy seeing him soften over time, but I really didn’t like all the moments when Okita makes cruel jabs at Yukimura, acting like he doesn’t care to the point where she actually believes him. I said this back at the number one spot: Telling the person you love that you actually give a damn is totes sexy.

Ah well. People are saying I will adore him in Edo Blossoms, so I’ll hold out for now.

#10. Doctor Evil: Sanan Keisuke

Sanan is a smooth motherfucker, and he’s hot as hell. He even had some really good moments with Yukimura that made me smile. It’s too bad he continues to exude the creepy scientist vibe between those moments. Even when being romanced, he still threatens you several times, including that scene when he almost cuts you for science.

He is definitely a good, complex character. I won’t deny that. It’s just hard to ship him with Yukimura when she spends basically the entire route feeling scared of him.

Please mellow out, you sexy, vampiric son of a bitch.

#11. Bad Touch: Sakamoto Ryouma

I’ve started reading up on the Shinsengumi and other individuals of the time period, and Sakamoto actually seems to be the most interesting and morally-sound. Too bad his route made me want to fall asleep. It had loads of good historical goodies, but this was bogged down by a romance that many YA books would laugh at.

He’s charming and oh-so-charismatic, to the point where Yukimura apparently feels a bond with him despite only spending a little time with him. He regularly gets into her personal space and refuses to back off when asked, but he just feels so warm and comforting and- *gag*

Yeah. The history and the non-romantic moments were interesting, but I’d rather do personal research for that.

#12. Edgelord McFuckboy: Kazama Chikage

I hated Kazama from the beginning. My feelings only deepened as I played route after route and saw the many, many ways this fucker can creep on Yukimura, kill her friends, and call all humans insects. He’s a racist jerk who wants a convenient broodmare for the McFuckboy Clan.

I will admit that the dialogue with him is always interesting. He is a well-spoken character, and an intriguing one. He acts gentler toward Yukimura in this route, but it’s only because she’s in a position where he’s literally her only option for protection.

He thinks humans are insects, tries to kidnap a woman to impregnate her on multiple occasions, and will gladly kill her friends in order to get to her. What a dick.

#hakuoki #hakuouki #kyoto winds #spoilers #characters #ranking #yamazaki susumu #toudou heisuke #souma kazue #harada sanosuke #saito hajime #nagakura shinpachi #iba hachiro #okita souji #sanan keisuke #sakamoto ryouma #kazama chikage

13 notes · View notes

cyanpeacock · 5 years ago

Text

Agh. It is morning. I am awake.

Don’t feel so hot. Lots of guilt and shame. Also fury. Trying to like... feel it without hating it and getting into that whole spiral.

I’m tired and struggling with like, reasons my body is worth caring for?

I feel kind of like... I’m ungrateful. Why would I cut all contact with a family that would accept me. They say they love me. They let me go to their houses. They’re alright... right?

But they didn’t fucking accept me.

OK this got long and furious under the cut wow. Apparently that’s why waking up was such a cunt this morning. Well. It’s out now.

They wanted me to be amazing in school, and got upset and/or angry and/or disappointed and/or guilty when I wasn’t achieving those kinds of grades. Punished for it. Means of social contact taken away from me, when I was already so fucking lonely. Constantly being fucking watched through a hole in the door. What the fuck kind of house just has holes in all the fucking doors? Why the fuck do you think that’s okay? Do you have any idea how much that fucked with my sense of privacy, how long I felt permanently observed for? Are you even aware how much your other kids hate it?

They wanted me to be a girl, and told me I was ‘just confused’ when I came out, got my name and pronouns wrong like they assumed it was going to pass in the next month, every fucking month. I wasn’t allowed boys’ clothes because “they wouldn’t fit me,” when being a “tomboy” was absolutely fine. Uh, I’m pretty sure ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ children do share dimensions? They’re both humans? I wasn’t even allowed to cut my fucking hair for years, because my mother wanted control over how my body wore my hair, and she wanted it long and blonde and pretty like the perfect working-housewife-to-be. She didn’t see me as a fucking man until after testosterone, and her eyes are still fucking looking for her “little girl.” Fuck off. She died ten thousand times living with you. She was one of those creepy dead-eyed dolls Sheila keeps on the landing in Killinghall. It drives me insane.

Okay this is pretty pointedly at my mother now so yeah.

“You’ll always be my baby” NO I fucking WON’T. Jesus fucking christ woman, I am not a baby any more. You might remember a tiny child and get all misty-eyed. I’m sure it’s reassuring to some adult children. How that feels to me? Oppressive. Like it’s a trap. All-consuming. Like if I go, and actually express and deal with all my rage, I’m going to destroy your world. Because that’s how it fucking worked at the beginning. If I expressed I was hurt, or angry, or upset, or hungry, or in need, I’d get fucking yelled at, I’d get yanked around, I’d get smacked. I’d get ignored. I’d get told I don’t deserve food. I’d get shut inside a lonely dark dirty disgusting fucking room and you’d pretend I didn’t exist.

You never saw how mental I went. You never saw me chewing the bedframes. You never saw me clawing at the walls. You never saw me picking the paint off the plaster, just the aftermath. You never saw me hurling my toys and books around in a rage, you just assumed I was ‘making a mess’. You never saw me beating my skull and body with my fists. You never saw me beating up Hank the teddy in complete rage then sobbing and apologizing to him like he was alive. You never saw me standing in the window crying wishing somebody, maybe the nice man Jeff down the road, would help me.

You never saw how I learned to imagine characters and stories so hard I began hallucinating them in my attempts to escape that ‘home.’ You never saw me wishing the ‘scary’ pedophiles in the white vans would come and take me away, because then maybe somebody would love my body for something different, and that I wouldn’t have to think so hard any more. You never saw me wish that mummy would just kill me so it would all be over. You never saw the help notes I wrote and tore up and posted outside, in the hopes somebody would put them together, and realize I was so scared of being caught asking for help that I destroyed my attempts to get it.

I’m fucking furious. Again and again you’d say bullshit like “imagine how I feel!” when you were the grown fucking adult in the dynamic. And I know-- Christopher comes into the equation, so does Sheila, who - man, that’s just, why would you still see that almost-murderer - I understand why, but holy fuck, I can’t watch myself start living like that - but this, right now, is about you and the child you did not protect, but transferred pain onto.

You got so fucking far inside my head I believed I was ungrateful, disgusting, a brat, just whining, that I had no reason to be so upset. That I should just buck up, and go to school, that I wasn’t doing good enough. I still don’t fucking feel good enough, because you’d go from essentially calling me worthless, to calling me a genius or a prodigy when I did something academically remarkable. It was the only way to convince you I had value.

So I learned to escape through school. I learned to just do the work, even though I still wanted to die right there. Easier to do an exam with an invisible gun to my head than to go home in the evenings, more fun, actually, because at least there was a chance of success in the exam. You didn’t see all the dark fucking nights I lived through considering suicide, wishing desperately that I could just kill myself, but feeling like my utter desperation to get away mattered less than your happiness. Awake all night trying to get away from the thoughts that told me to just stab myself, just go out in the cold, just rot away, because I felt responsible for holding the family together. And I also felt like I was the one destroying it.

I felt responsible for that, especially with how PISS fucking poorly you and David both handled that relationship. Neither of you are emotionally healthy people. You both used emotional manipulation on the children involved in attempts to achieve the same ends: harm the other party, gain power and control.

You know, I want to be a nice guy. I want to give happy happy endless love to the universe. Why do you think I was capable of moving in with a self-declared sadist, a man who’d shot men? Because I’d already lived with somebody who was wounding me every fucking day. In insidious, nasty little ways. That the David cunt only observed and copied. From you, Claire.

Your literal gibbering about “brainwashing!” and “mind control!!” - literally, what the fuck, woman. You’re not immune to propaganda either. You were literally making up your own. You two thought you were the entire fucking universe. He was the Right, you were the Left. It was the Tories and the Labour party, the Axis and the Allies, and the unwitting, dumb voters, with no experience in politics.

This is literally how you framed it to me.

That is literally how you two IDIOTS thought it was appropriate to navigate a breakup.

You know what? I’m done with it, again. You’re different to him in how you throw your shade, and that’s all. He’s alright, in moderation. You’re alright, in moderation. I could tolerate a serial killer, in moderation; I almost fucking was one, with how hurt I’d become, and how little trust in and respect for human beings I’d developed. All just meat to me. It’s all I’ll be in the end, anyway. It gave me a sense of power to stalk strangers at night, and observe their weak points, and consider how fucking easy it would be to get a rush that way.

And I can’t have these conversations with you, these furious fucking conversations, because I am conditioned to box up every bit of my rage when I even THINK of your face. You show up in my mind with your eyes all watery blue and bloodshot from drinking, and your lip and chin all tight like you’re going to cry, and it convinced - and still sometimes convinces me - “pack it in, you can’t destroy her like that, the world will fucking end, it’ll come back on you and your siblings. There will be punishment, there will be blood, and it’ll be yours, and you’ll be left all alone cleaning it up with no fucking support. The only eye that sees your blood will punish you for making a mess with it.”

Neither of you can see shit about what I really feel, unless you’re reading it here, like fucking omnipresent surveillant operatives of Big Brother, which I suspect at least one of you might actually be fucking doing.

Sure, things changed when I came back, still going through active trauma, desperate for something, some illusion of healthy family. Was that healthy? No. Was I actively going through unhealthy, traumatic times? Yes. We do unhealthy things in unhealthy times, and afterwards, while we process the feelings we went through but were numb to. It happens. I understand this, it’s why I kept making fucking excuses, why I thought ‘explanations’ of behaviour meant anything when you’d hurt somebody. It’s why I boxed up all this fucking rage. It’s why I thought my pain was meaningless compared to yours.

I’ll give this to you, you got nicer. You drink less. I appreciate it, for your other kids. They’re doing better than I was, but they’re still not well.

When did that change?

After your first fucking child ran away, because of the sheer amount of pain you were transferring onto them. Because of the toxic fucking environment of emotional manipulation and infantilization you’d continued to foster. Because it was easier to live with a racist opioid addict murderer for a while than to stay in that shithole city any longer. I had to force you to realize how fucking unhealthy that place was.

I’m not being kind right now, because I don’t know how to express all this fucking fury in a kind way. I don’t know how to soften the blow. Maybe there’s no fucking way, maybe that’s why I’m doing it on my blog. I still don’t believe you’re grown enough to handle this shit. You shut me down in every difficult conversation about feelings, and you don’t even mean to. Why do you think I cried on you so fucking much, but you could never fucking console me? Because you fucked up at the start. Because you didn’t establish a secure attachment between yourself and your child. Because you couldn’t provide for me.

I don’t blame you for being unable to provide for me. Circumstances align this way, often, and it’s inevitable.

I can’t go back in time and re-establish that attachment. There’s always this lingering fucking, waiting for the stab in the back. Waiting for trouble. Those moments where I go completely blank and convince myself it’s always been happy, it’s always been nice, I really am imagining things, I really do just overreact... there’s something wrong with me, why am I so ungrateful? Why can’t I feel joy here? Why is it always bittersweet?

It’s fucking me up. It really hurts me, every day. Every god damn day when I’m living with myself, and actually working on acknowledging and expressing what I really feel, in as healthy a way as I can muster. I still wake up thinking I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to smile today. I’ve ruined the world. I’ve fucked up so badly by making the decision not to speak to you again.

I have to stop doing that to myself.

I went psychotic from the amount of repressed trauma I’d been burying by smoking pot. My brain had to show me all that pain and instability I’d been avoiding, in the form of hallucinated symbols.

It was terrifying. It was also incredibly helpful. The doors of perception, as it were. Thanks for that one - I’m off making my own Brave New World, and it’s on the island, far away from the rest of them, with their neatly chemically controlled babies in fucking jars.

I needed to drug myself to function, for a while. I needed my meds to function. To do the only thing I’d ever been truly worth anything for, the only thing that was going to get me out and away. I’m coming to doubt that it was ever really my choice to be an academic. Between ability and unhealthy amounts of pressure, I was forced this way, like that fucking rhubarb you were growing.

So I suppose that’s why I woke up this morning and thought about staying in bed all day, hiding from the rest of the universe. I wanted to go back to sleep, so I didn’t have to feel how fucking angry and hurt I am. I can’t avoid feeling angry and hurt, now nothing’s actually hurting me in my daily life, now I’ve got people who respect my every word for what it is.

And I have to do this every day. Every fucking day, I’ve got to have these conversations with myself. Sometimes I write them. Sometimes I sing them. Sometimes I have to talk through them, slowly and haltingly, trying to understand why something apparently small hurts like something much bigger.

Why am I ‘doing this to myself’? So I don’t do it to anybody else. Not again. So I can come to a place where I feel worthy, and deserving, and like I can connect enough to my feelings and body to function without damaging myself even more.

All that fucking denial of my physical pain. All that denial there was anything medically wrong with me. It got inside me, man.

But - I have to accept my borderline. I have to accept that I have an intense emotional range, that causes me problems in meeting the societal standards of daily life, because I’ve been through an emotionally intense past.

I also have to accept that it’s not normal for this (almost) 22 year old body to click and crack and pop and grind and ache so much I have to literally limp around. My hips should not be audibly thunking when I go to sit down in an office chair to check my emails. My shoulders should not be sliding out of place steadily over the course of the day. I should never have gone so physically numb that I didn’t notice my binder warping my ribs.

I said I thought I had Ehlers-Danlos. You said I read too much, and that I was paranoid. Where am I now? Six years later, facing the possibility that that really is what’s wrong with my cartilage, the reason my skin is so soft, the reason my ribs bent so easily, the reason my vertebrae slide over each other audibly, the reason the only joints I have that don’t hurt are my elbows. And I’ve got to do it alone, because I can’t deal with looking right at your guilt every time I bring it up, because I know that you know now that this really isn’t normal, and you ignored it at a time so much damage could have been prevented.

I know why it went down that way. I do and don’t blame you. I just have to get angry, so I can fucking do something with my day that isn’t pure escapism, something constructive.

So now I’m wrapping this one up. I’m not fucking “packing it in” any more. I’ll wrap it up, at a time and place of my choosing, considering every body and mind my actions are affecting in the moment. Right now? This is for me.

#fliptext #trauma #abuse #neglect #suicide #addiction #murder #self harm #ask to tag #Good Morning #I Had To Get Mad So I Wouldn't Be Sad All Day #Things To Do U Kno #disability

2 notes · View notes