#there's somehow more and less pressure on me now that i'm in college to get good scores but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyndaris · 2 months ago

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Whole Again - Part 2

It's great fun when a short story you write ends up becoming a huge behemoth of a story. Given I'm still uploading Toymaker on my FictionPress and Wattpad (those being scattered.wind and kyndaris, respectively), though, it does seem appropriate to provide some relief through completely different stakes and characters.

That said, I've been writing up a whole new fantasy story (rather than the continuation of Lacet and Idana's adventures - even though I do have the beginning chapter in my head). Of course, whether this new fantasy story will grace FictionPress or Wattpad is something I'm still tossing up.

After all, isn't it everyone's dream to seek publication?

Time will tell if my writing abilities will get to that stage. In the meantime, enjoy the conclusion of Whole Again. Even as I try to finish Tears of the Kingdom within a reasonable timeframe.

Staring at my blank Word document, I tried once more to conjure up the words I needed to put down in order to start the essay I would need to hand in for my social studies class. Try as I might, though, I was unable to summon an iota of creativity for my literature review on Consent Culture on College Campus.

What made it worse was the fact the paper was due tomorrow.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What was wrong with me?

By now I’d usually be going through my fifth edit focusing on any misspellings or issues with tense.

Yet, somehow, time had slipped through my grasp.

And the pressure to be the excellent student I was only made my writing block worse.

Unable to face the white document in front of me, I closed my eyes and tried to reorder my thoughts into something cohesive. My fingers reached out on the keyboard, typing out word after word until I finished my first sentence. There, I stopped, pondering my next sentence even as I fought the urge to open my eyes to read what I had put down.

I knew rereading it now would only send me plummeting down into despair and I’d delete all the progress I made so far.

As the minutes ticked by, I continued in this fashion and slowly cobbled together a Frankenstein-like version of what my essay ought to be like. The only time I glanced at what I’d written was to insert references but I’d managed to tamp down on the impulse to immediately rewrite what I’d put down because it didn’t read perfect.

Sonia found me just before dinner, tapping away at my computer. It was only when the door closed behind her and when she dropped her duffle bag on the ground that I turned around, the hairs on the back of my head standing to attention at being caught unawares.

“Hey, Patsy. How you doing?” she asked, taking out her earbuds and pausing her Spotify playlist.

“Fine,” I replied, a little too tersely.

Sonia seemed to reel back from an invisible blow before heading to her side of the room. She sat down on her bed. “What are you up to?”

“Just trying to finish this essay.”

“And, how are you doing?” she asked before hastily adding, “I don’t mean to pry, of course, and you don’t have to say anything if it makes you uncomfortable. You’ve just looked stressed these last few weeks. Is it Professor Langley again?”

I debated for a moment whether or not to tell her.

Sonia had always been there for me ever since we had first met as roommates.

But whereas others couldn’t have cared less about the person they were sharing a room with, Sonia and I had become friends. Some might even say ‘good’ friends.

Didn’t she deserve the truth? Or, at least, some version of it?

After all, what if I had another blackout?

And, if I was being completely honest with myself, I found it easier to talk to Sonia than with Evie or Naomi. We had only ever met during that first fateful day of college. She didn’t know I was the purported Queen Bee of my high school or the nerdy girl back in elementary and middle school.

In the end, I told Sonia everything. The words spilled forth with minimal prompting. As if I needed the outlet she offered.

By the time I finished, Sonia looked me dead in the eye. “I think you might need help,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “My mom’s a psychiatrist. If you don’t want to go to her, I’m sure she’ll know someone who’ll be a better fit. But, if I’m being completely honest, it sounds like there’s a lot of stuff you need to unpack. Especially if you want answers.”

There was a moment’s pause as I tried to digest what Sonia was trying to say.

“What if I’m scared?”

Sonia grabbed my right hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be there with you, Patricia. Every step of the way.”

My name on her lips shouldn’t have sent a thrill down my spine. But it did.

What’s more, her offer was so tantalising, I couldn’t help but reach out and grab it.

I had thought, before, that only Amelia held all the answers. But maybe, just maybe, I could find it elsewhere. And not damn my soul any further by trying to make a deal with the devil on their terms.

My first talk with the psychiatrist Sonia’s mom picked out for me went well.

While they didn’t immediately present me with a diagnosis of a mental health disorder, they’d been sympathetic of my plight and had identified several behaviours they wanted to explore in further sessions such as my penchant for loneliness and the overwhelming feeling I had of being out of touch with others. Especially when it came to all the different personas I’d adopted when interacting with friends, family and other students.

Of my blackouts, Dr Nora – for that was how she liked to be called – had said little. Though she understood it was a concern wanted desperately to fix, she had wanted to tease out any underlying issues that might be triggering the dissociative episodes.

When I pressed her, she had posited the cause might have been stress.

It was an answer I didn’t much like, though I accepted it.

The second session, though, was rough. I’d come away from it feeling sad and miserable and worthless.

Dr Nora had dug deep. Questioning my feelings of insecurity and why I felt the need to prove myself during my time at Seven Oaks. And as she sought to plumb the depths of my psyche, she touched upon the fourth persona resting deep within.

Against my better judgement, I lashed out at her.

Like a sleeping dragon rudely prodded awake, my raw fury came bursting to the surface. And while I did not blackout, I did say a few things I deeply regretted when I returned to my shared dormitory room with Sonia.

“Hey, Patricia. How are you feeling?” asked Sonia, coming in late after her dinner date with a Logan Davis – a frat boy who shared one of her classes. According to Sonia, they had ‘grown close-ish’ after a group project and he had asked her out.

Logan Davis, of course, was a good-looking athletic boy with a way with women. And he knew it too. Especially in the way he tossed around his long golden locks as he carried his basketball around with him all through campus.

Back at Seven Oaks High, Trish would have set her eyes on him too. But Patsy was a different creature altogether.

And it had sat uncomfortably with me to know Sonia was out with Mr Playboy Logan Davis instead of hanging out with me in our shared lodgings.

“Crummy,” I replied, barely looking up from my game of Honkai: Star Rail. I went in to pull on a banner with one of my favourite characters, only to get Topaz – a character I cared little for and who I had plenty of. “Damnit!”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, you know…pulled another useless Topaz when I wanted Seele or Ruan Mei instead. Hate how busted the gacha system is.”

Sonia chuckled. “You said it. So, I take it you’ve finished the last few assignments then for class?”

“What? Oh. Yes,” I said, checking the daily mission for today. “It wasn’t my best work but I’ve decided I no longer care what Professor Langley’s opinions.”

“Not afraid it’ll pull down your grade average?” teased Sonia.

I huffed. “Not one bit. I’ll make it up with something else.”

“And how’d the session with Dr Nora go? Any closer to figuring out why you’re having blackouts? Or, as they would say, ‘dissociative episodes?’”

“It was fine. And no. We didn’t go into that kind of stuff,” I said.

“Well, do you think Dr Nora is a good fit for you?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.” I closed the game, not feeling very compelled to continue gaming. “Look, I’m tired. If it’s all right with you, I’ll turn in for bed?”

“What? Oh. Sure.”

“Thanks, Sonia. I hope the date with Logan went okay.”

Sonia looked askance, rubbing her upper left arm. “Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“That’s great!” I said, trying to infuse my voice with excitement even as my gut churned with disappointment. “Well, good night.”

The end of the semester saw me return home.

Although I continued with my sessions with Dr Nora, it felt like any progress I had made had stalled. Despite my attempts to figure out ways to stop the blackouts, Dr Nora wanted to focus on my middle school years and the bullying I’d gone through.

“I know it’s a touchy subject, Patricia, but if you work with me instead of against me, this wouldn’t be so hard,” she would say as I lay on her couch, staring up at the patterned ceiling.

But middle school was something I never wanted to relive.

There had been so many moments when I’d stood on the precipice of a yawning chasm of darkness, wishing to end it all because I couldn’t deal with the relentless teasing about my appearance and the hobbies I’d loved.

I’d vowed, after graduation, that I would no longer be the victim, hating the person I saw in the mirror.

And so, during the summer, I’d focused on losing weight and scoured the internet for tips on how best to apply make-up to hide away any blemishes. I read up on how to be the ‘It’ girl at school because I saw it as my only way to escape the Hell of being the social outcast. Heck, I even created multiple social media accounts to curate the image I wanted to project.

All of this, I told Dr Nora as I kept my voice neutral and detached.

She didn’t need to know of the day I’d tried to overdose, only to be interrupted by mom and dad coming back early because the event they had been going to had been cancelled because of heavy rain. Nor did she need to know how I’d taken to self-harming when I’d confessed to a boy in my maths class.

I still remembered the look of disgust he wore as he studied me from head to toe – from my limp brown hair to the round glasses I wore on my already moon-shaped face, down to the unappealing braces and finally over my overweight form because of the sedentary lifestyle I led. But what had made it infinitely worse had been what he had called me after class, when he asked to meet underneath the bleachers.

No. There was no point in dredging up the pains of the past. Not when I was looking forward to the future.

And if Dr Nora couldn’t help explain the blackouts I was having, then I’d have to find it elsewhere.

Except, Amelia had refused to see me too.

I’d gone to visit her at the prison and had waited for half an hour in the visitor’s section before a guard informed me there had been an incident and Amelia had to cancel.

Two hours, wasted.

My phone pinged, pulling me from my thoughts. I grabbed it from where it was sitting on my desk and glanced at the screen, eager for a distraction.

Mom: Dinner’s ready. Head down when you’re hungry. While your dad is eying the beef casserole like a starving tiger, we won’t start without you.

It pinged again even as I was reading.

Mom: If there’s anything on your mind, I’m all ears. Just know that we love you Pat.

Reading her message, I felt tears prickle at the corner of my eyes. Ever since I’d been briefly hospitalised following my ‘episode’, mom and dad had been worried sick. They’d even asked if I wouldn’t prefer living at home and commute to campus instead of staying at the dormitory.

I refused, of course.

After all, I was an adult and could make my own decisions. Not to mention all the responsibilities I’d picked up for volunteering for several student organisations campaigning against climate change and other social political movements.

If I lived at home, I wouldn’t be able to pour my all into those projects. Especially with mom watching over me like a hawk.

Besides, I was seeing Dr Nora, wasn’t I?

It was a step in the right direction and surely, it had to count for something.

I glanced again at my phone and the message mom had sent me.

With a sigh, I uncurled from my beanie bag, pocketed my phone and opened the door to my room. Dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, I headed down the stairs.

Dinner wouldn’t be so bad. Mom would offer up the latest community gossip. But dad would probably dominate the conversation about his day at work.

As I turned the corner into the dining room, dad beamed at me. “There she is!” he said. “It’s your second day into summer vacation, Pat, but all we’ve seen you do is loaf around at home. What’s been going on?”

“I’ve just been busy,” I said with a shrug. “You know how it is. Study, study, study.”

Dad exchanged a glance with mom before he turned back at me. “Oh, come now Pat. We all know that’s not true. I’m sure Naomi and Evangeline would have invited you out. The three of you were as thick as thieves in school. Especially after that nasty business with the crazy girl. What’s her name again?”

“Amelia?”

“Yes. Her! And they’ve been calling in on us after what happened last month, asking how you’ve been.”

“They have?”

Dad nodded, thumping the table. “Well, they’re your friends, sweetie. Especially the brunette with the blonde highlights. Naomi, I think? She’s always looked very concerned when she’s come over. Talks to your mom more than she does me.”

“Such a sweet girl,” said mom as she plopped down the beef casserole into the centre of the table. “But enough talk. I’ve slaved over this for almost the entire afternoon. So, I hope you appreciate what I’ve made.”

“Always,” answered dad as he dug in.

Dinner passed without further intrusive questions from dad. Instead, he complained long and loud about the commute to and from work. Mom nodded along as she added another spoonful of mash potatoes to his plate.

I, on the other hand, played with the peas and poked at the carrots.

My appetite had fled from me after my last session with Dr Nora and I was dreading the next one.

I was starting to think she might not be the psychiatrist for me and I would need to start looking elsewhere. We had already gone through four sessions and I still remained an anxious mess without a formal diagnosis. Nor had I been prescribed the one thing I wanted: a cure for all my troubles.

And now she was wasting my time by trying to delve into my past.

Something I didn’t want to do.

But it wasn’t something I could easily break to mom and dad considering they were the ones footing the bill.

Finally, as mom brought out the dessert, dad looked me right in the eye and said, “I’ve been holding off on this for a while, kiddo, but between you and me, I don’t think it’s been good for you to treat you like you’d break apart at any moment. You’ve been plenty resilient considering everything, so I’ll come and say it. What’s been eating you, Pat?”

I blinked up at him, like a deer caught in headlights and struggled for words.

“Don’t look at me like that, Pat. I know you. And you’ve barely touched dinner. Is Dr Nora not working out for you? We can find someone else. My insurance can pay. Or is it something else? Boy trouble? We all know college campuses are cesspools filled with the dregs of the male population. If someone has t—”

“What? No! This isn’t about a boy. God, dad.”

He shrugged. “Well, if you aren’t going to tell me anything, I’m liable to jump to my own conclusions. You do know you can come to us for anything, right Pat? Your mom and I, we aren’t going to judge you. If there’s—”

Before he could finish, mom came back with dessert. A rich tiramisu Swiss roll cake. She gently placed it between me and dad before disappearing into the kitchen again to retrieve a few more plates and cutlery.

“Dig in,” she said after carefully cutting the cake into equal portions.

I accepted my plate, picked up a fresh fork and then stared at the hefty serving I’d been given. It was too much. Especially given how my stomach was still roiling with unease and guilt and shame and a million other overwhelming emotions.

After a moment, I put the fork back down, looked up at mom and then dad. Taking a breath, I plucked up my courage and opened my mouth.

There were so many things I wanted to tell them and to seek the reassurances I so desperately craved.

But try as I might, the words got stuck in my throat and I found I couldn’t get anything out. Mom and dad exchanged another knowing look but they didn’t press me.

Cheeks flushing red, I lowered my gaze back to the Swiss roll cake before me, mumbled something under my breath about not being hungry and fled to the safety of my room where I curled up into a ball and finally let the tears flow.

“So, tell me, Patricia, what are you most scared of?”

“Cockroaches,” I answered automatically, staring once again up at the checkered pattern on the ceiling. “And spiders. Oh, and I guess you could say I’m also terrified of flying. We’ve only ever gone on three overseas trips and each time was a nightmare.”

Dr Nora smiled politely. “All very common fears, Patricia. But that wasn’t what I was asking.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned back into wing tip armchair. “I think you already know.”

Thinking over what we had discussed during our fifth session, I did have an inkling at what she meant. But I was loathe to give Dr Nora what she wanted.

Yes, I knew she was here to help me. But I couldn’t divest myself of the feeling that, in Dr Nora’s eyes, I was nothing but a test specimen. She would try to push one of my buttons and then record my reaction.

It was so clinical, so detached. And I hated it.

All I wanted was to be seen for who I was.

But even here, as I lounged on the therapist couch, I was projecting an image. It was imperfect, true, but I dared not let Dr Nora see the entire truth.

As the thought swirled in my head, I had to wonder why I felt compelled to continue pretending. Why was it that in a supposed ‘safe’ space, I still felt the need to pretend?

Was it because I was frightened of people seeing who I truly was and judging me? It had already happened once back in middle school and I’d been thoroughly rejected by the boy who had held my affections then.

But I had also moved on from the girl I was, ever growing and changing from a wide range of lived experiences.

I couldn’t return to the Patricia Taylor Morez I had been. But I also wasn’t just Pat, Patsy, Trish or Tricia.

So, who was I? Really?

“Patricia?” Dr Nora’s warm hand on my shoulder pulled me back to the room. “Are you okay?”

I blinked up at her dumbly. “What? Oh. I’m fine. Just have a headache.”

Dr Nora pursed her lips. “Although we do have another fifteen minutes, let’s end this session here, yes?”

“Sure,” I said with a shrug. I swung my legs down and rose to my feet. As I headed to the door, I stopped and turned to face Dr Nora just as she was straightening her notes. “Um, I don’t mean to push you but this has been our fifth session and you still haven’t told me what’s wrong with me. Or why I’ve been having these ‘dissociative’ episodes.”

A placating smile made its way to Dr Nora’s face. “I understand that it’s been a frustrating experience all around. To be honest, I could give you a diagnosis right now and write up a prescription to make you feel better, but it still won’t address the underlying issues you’re facing.”

“But it’ll stop me from having blackouts?”

“It might,” answered Dr Nora after a moment’s hesitation. “Or it might not. I believe the dissociative episodes are a symptom of something else. Unfortunately, I cannot help you if you don’t cooperate, Patricia.”

“What? By answering your insipid questions?”

Dr Nora shook her head. “I have had patients just like you in the past. And who never got better because they clung to the illusion everything was fine because they hadn’t gone on a murderous rampage. Don’t be like them, Patricia. You have so much more in your life to live. Don’t throw it away.”

Though anger and frustration had fuelled my initial outburst, it had wavered in the face of the sincerity I saw on Dr Nora’s face and the truth in her words.

“I…I’ll think on it. Should I make my follow-up booking with your receptionist?”

“That would be great, Patricia. And, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to think about the questions I asked you today. I know you don’t want to dredge up old wounds from your past, but I truly believe there’s a lot we can unpack. But only if you’re willing. Just remember: this is a safe space. I won’t judge you here. And no-one will know what we’ve discussed.”

I stepped past the threshold. “Thank you.”

Sat in front of my laptop, I skimmed the slim selection of movies on Netflix. I wanted something funny or dumb, where I could shut my brain off for an hour or two and not think about my latest session with Dr Nora.

My skin tingled with something horrid. Like ants were crawling all over my skin. And there was a dark nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Something was coming just over the horizon.

I didn’t know what it was but I feared what would happen when it did arrive.

It was easier to distract myself instead with something mindless.

Something like…was that Riverdale? Yes, there it was, sitting amongst a slew of promoted shows right under the selection of movies Netflix was trying to promote to me.

While I’d watched the first season years ago, I’d stopped when the plot lines began to feel flat and ridiculous. So, roughly around the third season. But, Hell, why not go back? Evie had loved the show. It, along with Emily in Paris and Bridgerton were in her top five shows of all time. Naomi, too, had watched all seven seasons though her opinion of the show was less favourable.

Hell, even Sonia had been suckered in. I remembered coming back to our shared dormitory and her mowing through a bucket of popcorn as she watched the series finale. When the credits had rolled, she had howled, throwing popcorn at the screen.

At the time, I hadn’t been sure if she had loved what the writers had done or hated it.

But it didn’t matter if the ending was good or bad. What mattered was that it would distract me for a few good hours. I could focus instead on the lives of Archie, Betty, Veronica and Jughead.

My phone pinged as I was about halfway through the third episode of the fourth season. I grabbed it and glanced down to read the notification.

An unknown number had sent me an attachment.

Without thinking, I clicked it open and was immediately bombarded by loud raised voices. Some that sounded familiar.

I glanced away from the TV to my phone and watched the scene unfold before my eyes. It had been taken in portrait mode on a bystander’s camera. The neon flashing lights told me it was the nightclub Naomi, Evie, Sanchez and I had visited not too long ago.

And standing in the centre, growling like a feral animal was me. My fingers were curled into beastlike claws as I tried to take a swipe at Sanchez, spitting out words of venom I would never have thought to utter.

Sanchez tried to catch hold of my arms but I was too swift, lashing out with a kick that caught him in the chest. He stumbled back, surprised but not winded. It had only been a glancing blow.

To my left, Naomi tried to edge behind me.

The video ended when Naomi grabbed hold of my waist and I was about to elbow her in the head.

My phone pinged again.

Unknown: like wat u c? plenty where that came from.

Unknown: if u dont want this everywhere on the internet, and ur reputation ruined, u’ll meet me at Tanya’s. 6pm. Friday. C u there, Patricia.

What. In. The. Fucking. Hell?

I entered the small diner on the corner of 3rd and Olive Street, affectionately called Tanya’s at five minutes to 6. Glancing around, I didn’t spot anyone I recognised before choosing to sit in a booth facing the entrance as I waited for the mysterious texter.

Wearing an oversized hoodie and black jeans, I tried to remain inconspicuous. My hands remained in my pockets, fingering my phone.

For two days, I’d debated whether or not to reveal to mom and dad I’d been contacted out of the blue by someone hoping to blackmail me. But the idea of giving them additional stress dissuaded me from telling them anything. They already knew something was not quite right.

But I also knew I couldn’t face this unknown texter by myself. So, I turned to Naomi.

The two of us had concocted a plan to ensure my safety.

And it was reassuring to know Naomi was nearby and only a call away.

Whoever this mystery texter was, we’d put a stop to them. I didn’t need all the additional stress associated with it all. After all, I’d already paid my dues. I was working hard to make myself better and to build up a good and proper life. Didn’t I deserve happiness?

When the bell atop the door tinkled, I looked up from the shiny black table just as someone slid into the seat opposite me. She looked familiar, although I couldn’t quite place the blonde hair and upturned nose. Her eyes were lined with mascara and there were bags under her eyes. Unlike me, she was wearing a long-sleeved blouse and a green plaid skirt that reached her knees. Her hair was kept in a neat bun.

But it was the scar just behind her ear that drew my attention. Something about it seemed familiar. Like I’d seen something like it not too long ago.

“Patricia, I assume?”

“Whose asking?”

The girl opposite me flashed a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She leaned forward.

“I always found it weird she chose you.”

Anger flared in my chest. “Look, I don’t know who you are and I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you’re my mystery texter, all I ask is that you delete the video of me in the nightclub. I can pay.”

“See. You’re so focused on maintaining the image you have to others. Amelia taught me that such things are superficial and don’t matter in the long run. But when I showed her the video of you when I visited her, there was an excitement in her eyes. Why do you always get preferential treatment and not me?”

I jolted at the mention of Amelia’s name.

Who the fuck was this woman sitting across from me? And what did she know?

“I was her first, you know,” she continued. “Friend, that is. Before she went to Seven Oaks. If it hadn’t been for that incident, she would have stayed with me. But it was my fault. I angered her out of misplaced envy. Dan says she was always volatile. He’s convinced she’s a menace. Even took me to the parole hearing and everything so I’d testify against her.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The flash of realisation struck me like a bolt of lightning. Of course it was Professor Langley’s bloody cousin!

Something must have flashed across my face because the girl leaned back and reached for something in her purse. “Connected the dots, have you?”

“Maybe,” I answered. “What I don’t understand is why you’re acting like some jilted lover. The way Professor Langley told it, she was a monster who got into your head. And who led you down a dark path. He didn’t go into any exact details but wearing long sleeves in the summer? Doesn’t take too great a leap.”

The girl’s brow furrowed, accompanied by a deep-seated frown. “Dan never understood. He, too, was always beholden to societal expectations. And of how we were perceived by the public.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked up at me, blue eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t pretend, Patricia. It’s below you,” snarled the girl as she fingered her purse.

I glanced around, wondering if there was someone nearby but the sole waitress was at another table and taking their order. Could I perhaps call out? But no. Doing so would only paint a target on my back. And the girl before me seemed volatile. Just like Amelia had been when we had met underneath the bleachers.

One wrong move and there was no telling what Professor Langley’s cousin would do. I couldn’t afford to have her leak the video of me onto the internet. But I also had no means to ascertain if she had it all on her person.

What I needed to do was buy time.

Taking a deep breath, I hid my shaking hands and licked my suddenly dry lips. “If you’re so free from the weight of social judgement, why did you go to the parole hearing? Why not refuse?”

Something flitted across the girl’s face. Had it been doubt? Or was it something else?

Before I could try to figure out, the girl’s eyes hardened into steel flints. “I know what you’re doing, Patricia. It won’t work. Amelia always said you were a wily one, easily slipping on masks as needed to keep your precious image going. Even now. After she revealed the truth to you. That’s why I knew if I threatened to publish the video, you’d come.”

A few eyes turned towards our table at the girl’s raised voice.

“Shh. Keep quiet won’t you?” I said, looking around at the other patrons, wondering if anyone had heard. And fearing what they might say.

But the girl would not be dissuaded. She spoke, her voice even louder. “It’s disgusting how you grovel and submit to others simply to keep pretending. Do you even know who the true Patricia is anymore?”

Although the girl before me was a passing stranger, her words managed to find their target. I reeled from the blows.

Hadn’t I asked myself that exact same question when I was at Dr Nora’s?

Who was I?

Amelia would have said to cast aside the masks I’d built up and find the core of my very being. But in my session with Dr Nora, the only thing I’d uncovered was a person with an intense fury and hatred of those around her. The fear of being bullied, the resolve to be more than a nerd, and the fixation on past wrongs, had coalesced into something monstrous and unfathomable.

I didn’t want to be that person.

It wasn’t who I was.

And yet, I couldn’t say with certainty I was Patsy or Tricia or PattieNeko either. They were all facets of who I was with certain elements heightened depending on the people I was interacting with, but I had worn each mask for so long, the way I naturally slipped into each role didn’t seem as fake as I might have once thought.

There was no artifice to how I interacted with Naomi and Evie. They were my friends. And I was authentic with them, to an extent. Similarly, I did enjoy studying. Patsy wasn’t just a means to an end. She was a version of me, heightened though it was, who cared about social injustices and who wanted to take a stand against the downtrodden.

None of them were me and yet, all of them were.

I wasn’t just one thing. I was many.

People were multifaceted. No-one was simply a caricature or a trope made flesh.

And yet, everyone had tried to pigeonhole me. Even myself.

Amelia was no different.

Knowing all this, I realised how little power the girl who had terrorised me nine months back truly had. Despite everything, she had simply been a cunning manipulator. To what end, I couldn’t say.

“You’re wrong about me,” I whispered to Professor Langley’s cousin. “I know exactly who I am. The real question is: do you?”

The girl’s cheeks flushed red. She puffed out her chest. “You fucking dare? I—”

“What’ll it be?” interrupted the waitress. She looked at Professor Langley’s cousin and then at me before arching a brow in question.

I hastily snatched up the menu. “Could I get a juice, please? And, um, a beef burger. With fries.” I handed the menu back to the waitress. “Thank you.”

“What about you?” she asked, turning to the girl. “Did you want anything to drink? How about some food?”

Crossing her arms, the girl sullenly gave her order. The waitress jotted it down, repeated our orders to confirm she had it down right and then headed languidly back to the counter to put in our orders.

Professor Langley’s cousin turned back to me but I beat her to the punch. “You said earlier that Amelia told you I was a ‘wily one.’ Considering that wouldn’t have happened if she was still attending school, I’m assuming you’ve visited her ever since her arrest and sentencing.”

“So what if I do? It doesn’t change anything.”

I shrugged, trying to play my comment off as nonchalantly as possible. “Not really. Just an observation. But I do have to wonder if your family knows. How would they react if they knew you only attended the hearing because Amelia asked you to? I don’t think Professor Langley – sorry, Dan – would approve.”

Across from me, the girl’s face paled, eyes widening. Her mouth dropped open, closed, then opened again, making her look like a fish.

I continued to press my attack. “Although, let’s be honest, we both know the real reason you’re here is because you’re jealous. Amelia gives me all the attention and you, the scraps. And look, I don’t know what your relationship with Amelia was before everything that happened at your old school. Nor do I want to know. But Amelia? She’s played us both.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not afraid to admit that I was drawn to her back in Seven Oaks. And even after she tried to kill me, I wanted to understand why. So, I visited her while she was held in detention. Falling into her trap. Just like you.”

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

“There was a time I thought Amelia was my salvation. That she held all the answers I needed to finally understand who I was because it was just so hard to keep up the pretence of all the masks I wore in high school just to fit in and be popular. Near the end, before she’d transferred to Seven Oaks High, I’d been running on fumes. But then she appeared and was able to authentically insert herself into any group. It was a freedom I’d only ever dreamed of. So, I did what any petty high schooler would do. I tried to sabotage her.”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear anymore!”

I stared long and hard at Professor Langley’s cousin. Her hands were tightly gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white. But I couldn’t just let it end here. I needed to keep going. Put it all out there even though everything inside me told me I ought to listen to Professor Langley’s cousin.

The point was made, after all.

But it was almost like a compulsion to keep talking; to keep tightening the screw and show the girl before me the whole ugly truth.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged forward. “In the end, I pushed her over the edge. Well, at least I thought I did. After all, in my attempts to think up ways to sabotage her, I’d befriended her and showed her sides of me I’d kept hidden from everyone else. It was something she’d always encouraged. To show everyone my authentic self instead of hiding behind the personas I’d created. Even in detention, she wanted to see the ‘real’ me.”

“Not another word,” warned the girl.

“But I’ve come to realise now, it’s not the ‘real’ me she wanted.” I licked my lips. “What she wanted was a clone of her. Someone who is damaged, isolated from friends and family. More importantly, though, they need to be blinded by rage and hatred and trauma. It’s not too late to step back, though. I can help—”

I stopped as Professor Langley’s cousin drew out a small pistol and pointed the barrel straight between my eyes. Though her voice shook, her hand remained steady. “I fucking warned you.”

“You don’t want to do this,” I said, trying to remain calm. “We’re in a public space. There are witnesses. Just put the gun down, Langley. We can talk about this.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Well, excuse me for not knowing your name,” I said with false bravado. Surely the gun was fake. Right? Professor Langley’s cousin wasn’t that insane, was she? “Amelia never mentioned you and Professor Langley didn’t exactly disclose it either. Besides all that, I don’t really have the capacity to think because I’m panicking at the fact that I have a gun shoved in my face.”

The girl’s finger twitched on the trigger. But there was no loud bang. And I didn’t drop to the floor dead.

Seconds bled into minutes as I waited for her to put an end to my life.

Was there a way I could distract her? Maybe I could wrestle the gun away? Would I be able to do that before she let off a shot? The gun was awfully close, aimed directly at my head.

Oh God, I didn’t want to die. There was still so much I wanted to do.

I couldn’t believe in the last three years I’d been threatened with murder twice!

Then, finally, the girl put the gun down and flashed me a cold smile. “Well, you can spout off as much as you want. We both know I have the power here. So, this is how it’s going to be. You—”

Before Professor Langley’s cousin could spell out her terms, the waitress returned to our booth. She placed the Caesar salad down before the girl and then handed me my burger.

Just as she turned to leave, I grabbed her arm.

“Hey, um, I was wondering where the restroom was?”

The waitress shook my hand free before pointing towards the far end of the diner. “Turn right when you get to the end.”

“Thanks,” I said, as I rose to my feet, pulling out my phone as I did so.

As I began to shuffle out of the booth, Professor Langley’s cousin snatched at my left hand. “Where do you think you’re going, Patricia?” she whispered.

“The toilet.”

“No, you’re no,” said the girl. “Lest you forget, I still have that video of you. And if you go, I’ll release it online. I’ve nothing left to lose.”

I grit my teeth, trying to calculate how best to extricate myself. Once again, I was at the mercy of someone about to fall off the deep end.

Not only did she have a compromising video of me, she also had a gun. I still wasn’t certain if it was real but it was something I didn’t want to risk. After what had happened in Seven Oaks, I wasn’t liable to underestimate the capabilities of anyone anymore.

So, I sat back down in the booth and subtly called Naomi on my silent phone.

“Okay, okay. You win. Now tell me what you want,” I said. “All you’ve done is berate me and then threaten me. But the only reason why we’re both here is because I want to make this whole situation go away. And I’m willing to pay anything you ask.”

Professor Langley’s cousin flashed me another cold brittle smile. “Anything?”

The lilt in the girl’s tone sent a cold shiver down my spine. “It has to be within reason,” I added. “The video isn’t something I’d want publicly known, true, but I’m not going to do something else that you can use against me.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” said the girl, grabbing a fork from the shared container of clean cutlery and stabbed at huge piece of chicken. “Fine. We’ll keep this transactional then.”

“How much?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Would a hundred thousand sound reasonable?”

“What?”

“Two hundred thousand then.”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” I retorted. “My family doesn’t have that kind of money!”

“Too bad. I want two hundred thousand by the end of the week.”

I shook my head. “It’s too much.”

“Well, I think you’re getting the better half of the deal.”

“Two hundred thousand just to have you delete a video? No. This is extortion. Of the worst kind.”

The girl looked up from her salad, her lips curled up into a smirk. “Is it, now? Tell me, how much do you think your life is worth? Two million? Five billion? Take that into account when you say this is extortion.”

She took a bite of her chicken. Swallowed. Then set her fork down.

“By the way, in case you were curious, the gun is real. If you’d kept pushing me earlier, I doubt we would be having this conversation.”

I stared at her, agog. “You’re fucking insane.”

“A cross many of the enlightened have had to bear when confronted by those who choose to remain ignorant.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re worse than Amelia ever was. And she—”

“No. Don’t presume to speak of Amelia. You aren’t even worthy to speak her name,” hissed the girl. “It’s infuriating that she would ever pick you to be her protégé. Especially when I was always there. Waiting in the wings.”

“Fine. You want two hundred thousand, you’ll get it,” I said.

“It was nice doing business with you, Patricia,” said the girl, leaning over her salad and proffering a hand to shake on. “I hope you’ll come to see how mutually beneficial this was. For the both of us.”

“You need to take this to the police, Tricia. I’m serious.”

“And say what? I don’t even know her name.”

Naomi blinked up at me from the passenger seat. “Are you shitting me right now? She pulled a fucking gun on you. Threatened you with it. In a fucking diner. What if you had been shot?”

“Well, I wasn’t,” I said somewhat petulantly, crossing my arms and leaning back into the driver’s seat of my mother’s silver Honda Accord. “Besides, what if she releases the video out onto the internet?”

“It won’t matter. None of us are going to press charges, Trish. You know that,” retorted Naomi, anger flushing her tan skin red. “And from what I’ve seen, it’s a grainy video. You can barely make out any details. Listen to me. This isn’t worth your life.”

A pregnant silence descended over us as we sat in the car.

I knew Naomi was right. To an extent.

But she didn’t have a reputation in college to maintain. Even if I wasn’t charged, having a video like that out on the internet could impact my ability to network or find a job.

People had been cancelled for less on social media.

Could I consign myself to social suicide?

I glanced over at Naomi, still breathing heavily at my side. Her face was still red. But underneath the anger, there was fear and concern and…love.

Shit. I’d been so focused on how much the video would reflect on me and its damage to the curated image I’d tried to maintain, I’d forgotten about the people closest to me. How might they feel if I did something stupid and got myself killed? What would they think if I allowed Professor Langley’s cousin to blackmail me out of home and college.

More importantly, why did the opinions of literal strangers seem to matter more to me than the family and friends who had had my back for as long as I’d known them?

I opened my mouth, ready to apologise but Naomi spoke first, breaking the silence between us. “Look, I know this is a stressful situation for you. But the Trish I knew wouldn’t take this lying down. She’d fight back. Probably with the most unhinged plan to get what she wants.”

“And you saw how well that panned out in high school,” I said. “There’s a scar I still have.”

Naomi chuckled. “Yes, well, the incident with Amelia aside, you still managed to get crowned Prom Queen with Brad as Prom King. And you also got one of the highest marks in the grade.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Naomi placed a hand on my arm. “You’re the baddest motherfucker I know, Tricia. But also know you have me, Evie and, admittedly, Sanchez, on your side.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are we really counting Sanchez in as part of our group? I’d say he’s more of a liability than anything else.”

“True,” admitted Naomi, “but he, surprisingly, has had his moments.”

“I’m sensing a story here, Naomi. Spill.”

“Maybe next time,” she hedged. “Let’s just get home first and come up with an actionable plan, yeah? Oh, and can we stop by Wendy’s? I’m starving.”

“Tori Louise Smathson,” I said, holding up a printout of the private Instagram page for Professor Langley’s cousin to the glass divider.

After trawling social media for two hours after I’d returned home, I’d found a picture of who I presumed was Tori, a large beaming smile on her face, dressed in the blue and gold private school uniform she must have worn. Her long blonde hair had been braided into two pig tails.

Amelia’s face was like stone.

“She’s the reason you were expelled from your last school. Right? Tell me what happened.”

Silence greeted my words. The minutes stretched between us and still Amelia said not a word.

I shifted awkwardly in my seat, still determined to get an answer. After all, I was running out of time. There was no telling when Tori Smathson would upload the video to destroy my reputation. And if I wanted any hope in hell to stem the blow, I needed some ammunition of my own.

Tori, herself, had revealed just how much she relied on Amelia. In so doing, she had revealed her one weakness.

One that I needed to take advantage of.

But I needed to know more.

“I know she visits you, Amelia. She told me herself at a diner three days ago. And told me you spurned her for me. If I didn’t know any better, I might have thought she loved you.”

Amelia’s left eye twitched at my words but she said nothing.

“Who was she to you. Really? Was it a lover’s spat gone wrong? It’s okay. We’re living in the 21st century now. There’s no need to be closeted. I mean—”

Laughter. Loud and raucous, and completely out of place. Had I missed something?

After wiping the corner of her eyes, Amelia stared at me dead in the eye. “You truly are desperate, Patricia, if you’re grasping for straws. So, this is why you deigned to visit me after so long.”

“I wouldn’t say two weeks was all that long a period,” I said testily.

“Ah, yes. But we didn’t actually chat, did we?”

“They said you were busy.” I shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as I could. Not wishing to reveal how much her rejection had hurt me even though I knew it had also been a mistake to give in.

This game I played with Amelia was dangerous. After all, the girl before me was a master manipulator.

I’d always thought I knew which buttons to press when I was Queen Bee of Seven Oaks but Amelia had made it an art form. No. It was better to keep my distance here.

“So, was this all just a waste of time? Or will you tell me more about Tori?”

“I could. But what would I get out of it?” asked Amelia as she leaned back in her chair, slinging one arm back over the chair.

I looked Amelia in the eye, taking in the grin. She thought she had all the power in this dynamic. And if I was being honest, she did. Without her help, I might as well consign myself to a fate worse than death.

Naomi might have thought it was something that could blow over by the next week, but I knew better. Scandal could remain for years.

It didn’t matter that I hadn’t been in my right mind. People would still use it against me.

Just like Tori Smathson.

Which was why I was here.

But there was only one thing I could really feasibly offer to Amelia. Doing so, however, meant I would be playing right into her hands.

Still, if it was the price I needed to pay…

Nervously, I licked my lips. “Well, look at this way: you’ll finally get to know how right you were. Two sides set against each other. You have me, still clinging to all my ‘false selves,’ and then you have Tori, a subscriber to your philosophy. It’ll be a battle for the ages and you’ll have front row seats.”

“You paint a pretty picture, Patricia. But I still don’t know why I should help you.”

My grip tightening on the receiver I feared I would crack it in half. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. “Because the fight won’t be fair. And I know you’re a stickler for letting people make their own decisions. Be it for good or ill. More than that, it puts me in your debt.”

Amelia pondered my offer for several minutes. She even got up from her seat to pace the cramped room she had been given.

After what felt like aeons, she sat back down on the steel stool and picked up the receiver.

“Fine. I’ll play this little game of yours, Patricia.”

“Thank—”

“Oh no. Don’t thank me. It isn’t for you. Rather, I’m hoping this little game will simply hammer home the point I was meaning to make.”

In the end, everything comes back full circle, I thought as I stood outside the bleachers of Seven Oaks High, dressed in tight ripped black jeans and an oversized t-shirt. A duffel bag lay next to my feet. I rubbed my naked arms and pulled out my phone to check the time.

7:30 PM.

Tori Smathson was late. Or, possibly she had arrived early and was simply scoping the field to see if there might be any incoming threats. After all, I could have called the police. Or set up an elaborate trap.

When I’d announced the location for us to make the exchange, she hadn’t been happy. But I hadn’t wanted it to be in a public area where innocent bystanders could get hurt. Easier to find somewhere deserted. Where we might not get interrupted.

It had taken 20 minutes and three conditions before Tori had come round to the idea.

There was a cunning to her. I’d give her that.

As I waited for her to appear, I glanced across the football field and up at the orange sky with pink streaks. Sunset. Well, almost. The sun was hanging low over the horizon. It would be another ten minutes before it would start to sink below the mountains.

My phone pinged and I glanced down.

Unknown: u hv the $$?

I quickly replied back with an affirmative. And then followed it up with a: where r u?

Text bubbles appeared for a few seconds before vanishing. Then they appeared again.

Unknown: u alone? i thought i saw sumthing earlier.

Goddammit. If it was Sanchez and Evie getting frisky somewhere in our old school, heads were going to roll. I’d given them explicit instructions to remain out of sight.

Smathson had been adamant that no-one else was to be here.

Of course, it might not be Sanchez or Evie but a student or teacher. The musical theatre kids were notorious for coming in at almost all hours to build their extravagant sets or to quietly rehearse their scenes in an empty classroom or two.

That, however, was out of my control. And I said as much when I texted Smathson back

Unknown: fine. i’ll b there in 5. stay put. no funny business yeh?

If the situation wasn’t so dire, I would have rolled my eyes.

The minutes ticked by slowly. After what felt like an aeon, a familiar blonde hair ducked beneath the bleachers.

Tori Smathson was dressed head to toe in black. From the thick scarf around her neck to the satin gloves and heavy-duty boots she wore though it was still a warm 80 or so degrees out. Summer, this year, was a right killer. Especially when one was trying to sleep at night.

Unwinding her scarf, Tori flashed me a cold smile. “Where’s the money, Patricia?”

“In the duffle bag,” I said, giving it a kick.

“You wouldn’t mind if I checked it, would you?”

“I would, in fact. How do I know you haven’t set the video up on some server, ready to be released as soon as you get the money?”

She sneered. “The unenlightened always doubt.”

“Yes, well, you haven’t engendered much faith, have you?” I retorted. “If I remember correctly, you held me at gunpoint in a diner just last week.”

“Fine,” said Tori. She pulled out her phone from her coat pocket, unlocked it and showed me the video she was using to blackmail me.

“And this is the only one?”

“Yes. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like the money?”

“Sure. Sure. But before you take duffle bag and run off, I wanted a conversation with you. Could you do that at least, Tori?”

Smathson’s brow furrowed. She straightened up and crossed her arms. “If this is a delaying tactic, Patricia, this won’t work.”

“No, no. Nothing at all like that. It’s just, I want to get something off my chest.”

“Oh?”

I scratched the side of my nose. “The whole blackmail thing, the video, it really brought me back to a dark place. Did you know? I was bullied in middle school. Snot-nosed teacher’s pet Patty, they used to call me. I had these thick-rimmed glasses and acne all over my face.

“And though I joined a thousand different clubs, wanting to fit in, I never did. The theatre kids looked down on my mathematical prowess. Math club turned their noses up my desire to join a sports team. And the dance team? They knew I was good at it but they could never let me in on their final line-up. Despite all the hours I’d poured into practice.”

“A story told a million times over in almost every school,” said Tori, although her face had paled. Just the tiniest bit.

“Enter high school,” I continued, ignoring her interruption. “I didn’t want to sit alone in the cafeteria anymore. Or be cast aside as another oddity. In so doing, I changed everything about myself to fit into the mold expected of a Queen Bee. The anger and resentment within me had found new purpose. But it was also tinged with fear. Although I didn’t have any old classmates at Seven Oaks High, I worried people would figure me out and see me for the impostor I was.

“Then, of course, there were the expectations I get good grades too. That part, too, was still engrained heavily in me. But it’s a tale as old as time, isn’t it? Considering it was something you also went through.”

A shadow of a heretofore unknown emotion flitted across Tori’s face before she hid it behind her mask of cool indifference. “Is that all, Patricia?” she asked. “It’s not going to make me change my mind, you know. I don’t care a whit about the baggage you’ve gone through. I just want the money.”

“Fine,” I said, giving the duffle bag another kick. “Take it. But we both know the reason you’re doing all this, Tori, is because you want to find an escape. Just like me, you thought you had to be someone you weren’t. Amelia took advantage of that. Tore down the walls you built up, feeding on your insecurities.

“Your family, of course, don’t understand. They salt the wounds Amelia left behind.

“There is, however, another answer. You don’t have to go through with this. This isn’t you,” I said, extending a hand out.

Smathson smacked my hand away and grabbed the duffle bag, her face a few shades whiter than it had been before. “What the fuck do you know about me anyway? Stop trying to act all high and mighty. I know who I am. You’re the one who’s at a loss, playing at pretend.”

“Am I?”

“If you weren’t, this stupid video wouldn’t hold such power over you,” she sneered. “Well, I’m sure you’ll understand that I’ll need to check the money before I commit to deleting it.”

“Of course.”

She weighed the bag in her hands for a few moments, perhaps wondering if this was all a trap before she set it back down on the grass, knelt down and unzipped it. The first stack of $20 bills was pulled out. Then another.

Until, finally, she pulled out her first $50 and $100 stack.

Smathson whirled on me then, face red. “You think this is a game?” she roared at me. “Where’s the fucking money, Patricia?”

I remained as calm as I could. “Right there. In your hands.”

“This?” she slapped a fat stack of $20s in my face. “This is fucking Monopoly money!”

“Is it?” I asked, furrowing my brow deep in thought. “Weird. I definitely know I filled the bag with money I got from my parents. It was a whole fiasco, asking them for two hundred thousand dollars.”

“You bitch! I’ll fucking destroy you,” spat Smathson. “You come here, trying to sell me a sob story so I’ll sympathise with you because of all the ��similarities’ between us, but you’re just lying to my face. You don’t know me. You never will. Not about the things I’ve done and the sacrifices I’ve made. Anger is all I have left.”

I threw my hands up, alarmed. “Tori, I’m sorry if you believe that’s the case—”

“Don’t you dare say my name! I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work!”

“Please, just listen—”

“No! I want my two hundred thousand, Patricia. And I want it now. If you value your life, you’ll get it to me by whatever means necessary,” said Tori as she reached for her small black purse.

Before she could pull anything out, Sanchez came in from the left and tackled Tori to the ground. He pinned her arms above her.

Hissing like a cat, the girl struggled to free herself. She almost managed to knee Sanchez in the balls but the footballer was quicker.

“Helps when you have friends, doesn’t it?” I said almost casually as I crouched over Tori. “Trish was meant to be a caricature, true. The stereotypical mean girl Queen Bee. Somewhere along the way, though, it stopped being fake and I learned to love the friends I’d made. Evie might not have been smart, and Naomi liked the finer things in life, but over the years, I’ve learned there’s more to just the first impressions they gave.

“Therapy can help you too. We are more than just the persona we project to the outer world, Tori. But they’re also a part of who we are. It’s not a bad thing to be known as the nerd or the popular Queen Bee. Yes, I was cruel in how I wielded my anger and insecurities, but there’s no shame in admitting needing help. What’s important is knowing when to ask for help.”

Tori tried to spit at my face. “Are you done preaching?”

“Not quite,” I said, taking her purse and upending it. A small hand pistol plopped out on the ground. I kicked it aside. “Now we are. Sanchez, care to escort our friend over to the parking lot?”

“With pleasure, milady.”

I watched as Sanchez manage to wrestle Tori up to her feet and then frogmarched her away from the football field. Pulling out my phone, I texted Naomi and Evie that I was fine and everything had gone swimmingly. As I put my phone away, something silver and metallic caught my eye just a few feet away in the clipped grass.

Tori Smathson’s phone.

Just like Amelia told me, Tori hadn’t bothered with facial recognition or biometric recognition. Instead, she had set up a six-digit passcode. I entered in the code Amelia had told me.

The phone unlocked.

I clicked into the Photos app and opened up the video Tori had filmed that fateful night. Once more, I saw how I rose to my feet and swayed like I was drunk before lashing out at Sanchez and Evie. Or what I assumed were Sanchez and Evie. The picture was grainy at best. Shot over a long distance. And the camera work was shaky.

It ended right as Sanchez managed to sneak around behind me before restraining me in a bear hug.

Shit. Naomi had been right.

The video could hardly be called hard evidence. To any passersby, it might have looked like a group of friends having a drunken night out.

Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. I deleted the video. Then I deleted it again from the recycling bin.

But just as I was about to pocket Tori Smathson’s phone, a photo dated three years ago caught my eye. In it, both she and Amelia were smiling at the camera outside the local shopping mall. Both of them were wearing the school uniform of the prestigious high school they had attended: blue with gold trim blazers, white shirts and plaid tartan skirts.

My thoughts drifted, pondering what had caused the rift between them.

Amelia had said little when I’d pressed her about the incident that had drove the wedge between them and which had driven her down a dark path. One that Tori seemed to follow though she had initially rejected it.

Maybe it had been a lover’s tiff? Or perhaps Tori Smathson, obsessed still with the image she wanted to maintain, had pushed Amelia too far. Then, lashing out, Amelia had dug her own claws into Tori.

Leaving both of them miserable and social outcasts.

At least, that was the theory I’d concocted.

In the end, it didn’t matter who had started what. That was all in the past. And it wasn’t my responsibility to go digging, I thought as I locked Tori’s phone and slipped it into the back pocket of my ripped jeans. I’d return it to her later.

As I took another look around my old high school, I couldn’t help but dwell how different I felt from when I’d ruled the school as Queen Bee.

No longer did I feel overwhelmed; fearful of what might happen if I was unmasked for being an impostor.

And there were many things I was grateful for that I’d never once considered before.

I was alive. I was unharmed. And, more importantly, I was seeking help.

While I wasn’t completely healed from the damage inflicted by my childhood traumas, I was taking steps to better myself. Already, I had come to accept my whole entire self – the facets I thought I’d conjured up to compartmentalise the different aspects of my life.

True, none of them were the real me. Yet, at the same time, all of them were me.

It was a difficult concept to wrap my head around still, but I knew it would only be a matter of time.

And that was okay.

Feeling lighter than I had in days, I turned towards the school parking lot.

There was a story I still needed to bring to a close.

#short story #writing #reading #whole again #exploring personas #finding out they're all me #multifaceted characters

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thegreatesstescape-blog · 8 months ago

Text

Its been a long while...

It's been a long while since I posted anything on here... Tumblr has changed so much throughout the years. I am blessed and grateful for the life that I get to live today. RJ and I continued our relationship despite all of our issues... I wish I could say it got better and we are still happily together... But that's not the way it worked out... For the past 4 years... we've been desperately trying to figure it out... and although the love for one another was intense... We couldn't get past our traumas and ultimately failed, again... We tried to keep a friendship, but we always somehow fell back into that pattern of comfort... Things would be really good, until they weren't... and when they weren't it was really bad. We are currently not speaking... We didn't end on bad terms... we more so made an agreement to stay out of contact for a month, and we can revisit a connection... To be honest, IDK if a month is going to be enough for me... I guess I get to make that decision to reply when the time comes. I do have anger towards him... I felt like he didn't give me a chance... Every little thing I did that did not sit well with him, he like pounced on me... I felt like I was in constant state of defense with him. I don't want a relationship where I feel that I have to defend myself and my choices on a daily basis. Now that I think of it.... There were many reasons why I was unhappy in this relationship... but I was always willing to figure it out.

I just finished my 1st semester of college for the 2nd time. I am now getting my degree in Medical Administration. Which is what I do as a career, I really LOVE my job. I'm grateful to have a break for the summer because this semester was a challenge... I was working 3 jobs and taking 3 classes. Talk about time management. None the less, I made it through AND passed all my classes. I also am back in kickboxing which is really supportive for my mental health and well as my physical.

I live in my OWN apartment.... Something I thought I would NEVER achieve. But I've had my home or going on 2 years now. I will never go back to roommates. lol I am genuinely proud of how far I've come and the growth I've experienced along the way. I am always eager for what's to come and I embrace the journey. I would usually hand write this in my journal... but I've injured my hand in kickboxing, and this is simpler and therapeutic.

If there is one thing, I've learned from these past several years... it's that life keeps going... whether you're along for the ride or not. You get to make a choice every day to give it your all or fold under the pressure.

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sachisei · 10 months ago

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I didn't know there is a difference between montessori schools and traditional schools. I studied under a montessori school since nursery to third grade. By 4th grade, my parents decided to transfer me to a regular private school. Sure enough, it did seem a little different to me, but I always thought it was just because I felt a little alienated by coming to a new school with new faces.

I did notice that the duration of classes were very different. In the montessori school, we only had around 30 minutes each subject, and the entire school day would only be half a day. However, in the traditional private school, we had around 45 minutes of lecture for each subject, and the entire school day is from 7 am to 4 pm.

I didn't notice it back then, but thinking back on it now, we didn't really have homework in montessori school. Most of the learning was spent inside the school. Each grade had 2 sections, one is a morning section, and the other is the afternoon section. I attended the morning section. When I would arrive home, I never did any homework. I would just sleep the rest of the afternoon or watch some tv series, that is before I was banned from watching tv starting first grade.

I'm also unsure if traditional schools allowed students to skip to a higher grade, but that was what essentially happened to me. I skipped the 2nd year of kindergarten. And I just learned now that montessori schools grouped multi-age students. I am not aware of my classmates' ages, but that could probably explain why some of them felt a little more older than me in terms of their manners and overall aura.

Another thing I did notice when I transferred school, was that in the traditional school, all the students had to stay quiet and really stay put. The only exception was this ADHD kid from second grade who would come and visit our classroom at any time of the day. But in montessori school, I remember our classes to be boisterous and chaotic. Some kids are talking to each other. Some kids are throwing paper planes. Some kids would walk around the classroom while the teacher is speaking. And we were only seldomly reprimanded for this, and I think they only did that whenever a fight broke out, or a student was disrepecting somebody. Most of my montessori teachers were very calm and intuitive. None of the classes felt too slow nor too fast to me, although there are still who would struggle. I'd know because there were kids who'd try to cheat off my paper during our exams.

The other thing that was different was the number of students per grade. In montessori, we had around 25 - 40 students in a classroom, while it was less than 15 for my private school. They prepared 15 chairs each classroom. And funnily, during my 4th grade, I only had one classmate. I didn't think of the difference of number that much because this private school newly opened when I attended it on its first year. So in my head, the number made sense in correlation to that. I did, however, hear about our entrance exam limiting the number of students who could attend our school.

I horrendously failed an exam in music subject in private school, and I was profusely reprimanded for it in the faculty room. It was my first time ever receiving a negative feedback directly from a school teacher. And I didn't take it well, as in I sort of rebelled against it. In my head I didn't care about getting a failing score for a music subject, besides it was just one exam. But somehow that wasn't allowed. I don't remember if I ever failed an exam during montessori school, but what I do remember was that classes were so much more fun and easier to take. It was the first time I had to swallow some pressure from somebody I didn't even like.

Perhaps my parents knew that I was a little different from other kids after all because they sent me to a montessori school. But they maybe got a little ahead of themselves by transferring me to a traditional school, albeit being a private one. But if I were to attend college, I think attending traditional schools would have definitely make it easier for me to adapt to college.

#journal

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angeldcgs · 10 months ago

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it seemed that everything he said made her blush, constantly poking fun at her naïveté and feeding her those juicy nuggets of pretentious wisdom, to the point where frankie couldn’t see herself ever getting bored in his presence. there would always be a certain novelty to their interactions, like he was a prize she felt undeserving of. her imposter syndrome manifested in the form of that little voice in the back of her head insisting she wasn’t good enough for oz, that he was only showing interest out of boredom, or pity. she had to actively fight against that negativity to continue enjoying herself, but the voice was always there. “yeah… they are really pretty. they remind me of my high school piano tutor’s, actually. i had a huge crush on him…” what attracted her most to people were non-physical attributes, such as their intelligence, or talent, or more innocuous features like hands. ogling at the parts of his body with a more commonly sexual association just felt like a violation of his privacy, no matter what intentions he'd invited her back with. whether or not frankie was able to deliver on what it was oz looked for in a girl, it was good to know what he was into, in case she was somehow magically able to shape herself into that sort of person. she wasn't the best actress, but she was an avid learner. “what do you mean? ‘nice and proper’…” she knew there was nothing wrong with being a little old fashioned about romance, with wanting to be courted like in the jane austen novels she binge read in high school, but the way he said it made it seem like something to refute. “i like… i like when people like me. the rest doesn't really matter as much…” all in all, frankie didn’t have a specific type, or even a preferred method of getting into a relationship— she just wanted to feel desired, and for someone to actually show an interest in her the way oz was, plain and simple. therefor, she couldn’t be upset if this was only a one-time fling, or if he ended up breaking her heart, god forbid, because at least he was giving her something to remember. her bashfulness hit its peak once he questioned her past experience, gaze averted though she stayed holding his hand in place. “n-not really, no, i— i just haven’t… is that weird?” it felt like it, at her age. all her peers seemed to have passed that milestone before they got to college, and if not, they’d gotten it out of the way by the end of freshman year, but the longer she waited, the more she built it up in her head as some anxiety-inducing, life-changing experience, the less she wanted to do it at all. frankie had to force herself to look back in his direction, more anxious about not knowing his reaction than she was nervous about seeing it in the first place. much to her surprise— and relief— he didn’t seem put off by her virginity, his eyes instead sparkling with some sort of intrigue. her roommate was always insisting that guys loved virgins, calling it the biggest turn on, but to frankie it seemed like something utterly undesirable. she had no idea what she was doing, she was awkward, and skittish, there was so much more pressure behind giving her a satisfying experience since it was her first. what was there to like about that? “really? do i seem, like… does it seem like i’ve done that before?” she sat up even straighter as his thumb brushed against her lip, doe eyes blinking up at him as though she might simply pass out from how enamored she was. if not for lovesickness, it’d be due to her rapidly pounding heart, or the fact that she’d stopped breathing until she noticed her lungs begin to burn and sucked in a breath. “you are too, this... it feels like i'm in one right now.” letting her lips part further, his thumbnail caught on the edge of her top front teeth before she slowly, deliberately, oh-so-carefully lowered her head until the digit began disappearing into her mouth. she waited until it was a few inches inside to close her lips around it, tongue tentatively making contact with the pad of his thumb, tasting his subtly tobacco flavored fingerprint.

oz had come to expect few surprises from frankie, she moved around his space like some kind of small newborn animal, still getting used to his world and how to navigate it, which was fine with him as it made such a bold move as her reaching out to grab his hand feel even more exciting. he watched her study him for a moment, examining his fingers with the wide-eyed gaze of someone thinking thoughts inappropriate for speaking out loud. the blatant admiration had him shifting where he sat, almost squirming with the desire to reach out and actually touch her but he refrained, first wanting to see how far she took things herself. "pretty, that's what you said about them, right?" oz said in a call back to when he'd flashed his hands to her back outside the bar, her adorable fumbling to try and clarify herself would stick in his mind long after that night, even if nothing ever came from their little encounter. he cocked his head in consideration of her question and gave a small shrug, though the smirk toying on his lips told a different, more certain story. "at times, yeah..." his eyes dropped down to her mouth as it brushed against his skin. the temptation arose once more to move, to pull back just enough to be able to swipe those fingers she liked so much across her pretty lips, maybe even push inside to rest on her tongue as she sucked at them. "what about you? you seem like the sort of girl who likes everything to be nice and proper all the time." it wasn't that wanting those things was a particularly bad thing, it was just not the sort of thing oz ever craved for himself, nor did he think he was that good at providing it despite considering himself somewhat of a romantic. there was nothing wrong with wanting to be treated nicely, oz simply needed something more to keep his attention or else he'd have to run off and find something more entertaining. he tried to focus on what she was saying despite his attention being drawn almost entirely to his proximity to her mouth, but his dark eyes flickered up to meet hers once more at as her words finally clicked into place. "have you not been with a guy before?" he probably could have deduced that from her behaviour earlier, but he'd been far too caught up to actually question any of her behaviour more than simply equating it to that of a shy drunk girl. he tried not to sound overly excited but frankie was starting to appear too good to be true; it wasn't that he had some kind of a thing for virgins, but the idea of being someone's first, forever taking up part of their brain with the companionship to one of the most influential nights of their life, it was the perfect scenario for an attention seeker like oz. "i can't believe that." in tandem with his compliment, oz finally shifted his hand away from her gentle grasp, just enough to pull back and carefully rub his thumb across her bottom lip, then up to press gently against her cupid's bow like a little kiss. "you're a dream."

#{ francis doolittle — thread }#{ francis vs. oz }#thcophagy

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pretendstoread · 1 year ago

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first...second...second first

it's funny that every time i think about writing i never really know what to say. i don't remember making this account in 2018, or writing for the first time on here. i've gone back and forth between journaling--where to do it, if it's even helping me--and there's a strong chance that i'll move on from this just like the other journals and modes of expression.

i've just been kinda uninspired. i fear that i wasnt born to be an artist. i dont think i Do enough. i dont really photograph. nothing really inspires me anymore. i'm kinda worried that new york's tap has run dry, but i dont think it's effective to blame the city i live in instead of myself. this has been a problem of mine for years now. why is it so hard to express yourself?!! i feel like i have a lot in me and yet no way to show for it. i dont know if i have a good work life balance. i dont know if thats even the problem? it's just.....so easy to do nothing....? but it doesnt make me happy??? but i keep doing nothign anyway??? maybe THIS is the first step to that. there's a bit of ego in making this. like. diary public. though i dont really think anyone will see it (and i don't care (but i will tag this anyway and maybe check if it gets any notes)). but i dont mean it to be egotistical.

i am a product of post internet use. i grew up expressing myself online. i was on facebook in fifth grade, tumblr in middle school, wattpad/ao3 and stan twitter in high school, art school in college, and back on twitter as a young adult. there has never been a point where i wasn't trying to put myself out there somehow, to be seen and shared and agreed with or admired or congratulated or impressed by. this pressure To Be Seen at 24 feels the most strong. the strongest ever felt. everywhere all the time i see and am told that i have so much time and that 20s are just the beginning. but it doesnt feel that way at all. it LOOMS over me. life shouldnt be Established but it should be.....Impressive? thats the second time i used impressive in this post so thats some subconscious thing going on there. But much of life right now is waking up, going to work, hating work, coming home, sitting on the couch until it's time for bed (which i either fall asleep right there or lazily flop into bed--and consequently miss taking my antianxiety meds), and then i wake up all over again. there's nothing to really show for. i don't feel like an interesting person. i dont feel like i do enough for myself. i guess i have a fear that i will be in this cycle for so long that one day it's 20 years later and nothings reallllllly changed. like. fundamentally.

i cannot think that far ahead. i have no ten year plan, 5 year, one year, 6 months...but i will be a fucking doomer about myself every chance i get. it's, of course, easier to catastrophize in the moment. lower expectations = less chance of disappointment! i think it's also interesting that the only things i really journal about are negative thoughts. wtf is that about. i'm not even necessarily unhappy right now.

things that make me feel Happy:

having enough food in the house that i can make something without having to go out or order in

laying in the sun on the beach after getting bodied by waves

creme soda

when i'm wearing a dress and dont care about my underwear showing (i like to spread! im sitting knees up at my desk right now!!)

catching someone i like looking at me (does it mean anything extra if they're drinking something at the same time....? and they don't break eye contact...?)

customizable internet--the past now....i remember when tumblr was a WEBSITE more than an APP. we must free ourselves from The Profile.

#diary #if you see this hi

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biancoree · 2 years ago

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Who's Bianca—The Power of Pushing Yourself Beyond Your Limits

I am Bianca Ysabelle C. Romero, 18 years old, and a senior high school student at Emilio Aguinaldo College Cavite. I used to attend my grandparents' institution when I was still in kindergarten; it was a small school for children, and my grandma was among the teacher educators. Ever since I've become convinced that I'm a good and bright student who enjoys less pressure and more freedom as an adolescent. To the point where being labeled to the honor roll somehow doesn't surprise me. However, as I grew older and ventured outside of my comfort zone, I came to realize I needed to switch schools.

As I walk into my new school, a worried feeling and anxiousness wash over me; as a 7-year-old, I started getting anxious, agitated, and concerned about the school environment I was unfamiliar with. As I encounter new faces, names, personalities, and attitudes. I remember the moment I was about to start first grade and trying to think I was the best among my fellow students, low-key bragging about how much I had learned in my previous school. But when I was faced with various difficulties, I lost all confidence in the extent to which wiser and much more ambitious everyone else around me was. And that I have a lot more to learn. I thought learning was not a constant process, and yet learning is an active and never-ending process for all. The journey does not end with what you learned yesterday or today as it is a continual process. There is still a lot we don't know. That's why I knew, and I informed myself I had to push myself harder and work even harder. I came to the realization that everyone possesses their own collection of abilities and skills. As time flies by, I finally completed my elementary days. But even then I felt empty as if I were lacking something. I feel like I need to push even harder and harder and harder. I continued to work towards it and eventually reached 7th grade. I tried harder and harder until I began to see my life puzzle coming together. I know for sure I could do greater beyond what I had previously accomplished. I studied harder, finished tasks earlier, figured out how to handle my time properly, managed to learn to set goals, and of course, remained in the process of learning the term 'rest and relax' as well. Though some things are not smooth sailing procedures. It eventually reached the stage in which I placed my mental well-being on the line by undertaking all that I could to study harder and acquire more knowledge to attain higher results and academic achievement in all subject matters. Since I am certain after years of yearning, education had been among the most challenging but nevertheless opened my heart to ample opportunities, knowledge, and experience. In the 10th grade, I experienced the thrill of leading our very first research team.

I was genuinely worried that I might not be capable of shouldering the full leadership duties since I'm not used to leading and playing a significant role in any school tasks. But surprisingly it turns out that it ended up being the greatest memory I had in the past. And eventually discovered I was capable of performing things I thought I couldn't. And here I am now in my 12th grade, prepared for every major role if necessary. To be frank, as we grew older, more commitments and obstacles arose to place our abilities to the test. However, as we push even harder I knew each one of us could accomplish far more than what we think.

Let's all constantly choose to grow because education is a long and complex path. In a nutshell, this will serve as the foundation for a better and brighter future.

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sweet-william-writes · 8 months ago

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Dude do I just live rent free in your head. It kind of seems like it since you've constructed this whole damn narrative about our nonexistent beef out of nothing. I blocked you because I find you annoying as hell on a personal level. And in spaces I exist in just for fun or to post practice writing without pressure, yeah I liberally block anyone regularly irritating me, and I was tired of reading your annoyingness every time I wanted to talk about a ficlet in a ship channel. I kept to like three threads in the whole server anyway, so I missed 95% of the conversations happening in kindergarten mafia, and concerning YOU? I didn't pay enough damn attention to anything you said to even be able to notice you started talking more about any particular topic, let alone get all up in xenophobic feels about it and block you for it. It had nothing to do with anything remotely resembling serious topics like the racist and xenophobic issues surrounding a Thai show with a largely western fandom. I blocked you because I found you unpleasant to talk to, it's not that fucking deep, point blank, end of story. Or would be if you would stop fucking talking about me.

And as for me apparently being an apathetic xenophobic hypocrite, I'll say what I've been saying since you first started throwing shots at me while playing devil's advocate for racists. If I ever said or did anything xenophobic? Actually tell me what the fuck I did. Come to me with actual fucking examples not just vague bs and tell me what I did wrong. The first time months ago that you threw this accusation at me I went straight to people I trusted, all panicked and worried I'd somehow been fucking up, and asked if they knew what you meant. Had I unknowingly been doing something I needed to be made aware of, correct, and fix? For the record, they said they had no idea, but I'm not going to act like that magically makes me in the clear and you wrong. I have ALWAYS been vocal about the fact while I do my best and try to educate myself, I have a lot to learn still. It's just the way it is, being fairly young and new to BLs and fandoms surrounding Asian media, and in general being pretty uneducated about other cultures due to living my whole life poor, so I have barely even left the city I was born in let alone been able to experience the cultures of different countries, and yeah I can't afford college so. The scope of the world for me is much narrower than many people's. I have never pretended I'm not capable of being ignorant in a way that could actually be hurtful or lead to xenophobia or racism, and I've always taken the stance I WANT TO KNOW IF I DO SOMETHING WRONG.

And you have yet to ever say an actual example, and instead just keep saying I and my writing is xenophobic without ever elaborating, while also somehow trying to play the "I'm not passing judgement" card inbetween giving the judgement that I am ignorant and have disregard for Asian cultures.

So either send me a damn list or stop making vague ass claims to make me look just as bad as fucking Rachael and Hann. If you do, regardless of how I feel about you personally, I will read it and do my best to actually work on fixing anything I need to to be a better member of these fandoms, and a better less ignorant human in general, which is really the important part.

But other than sending me that? Move the fuck on, and get over me not liking you. Educate random white people on the internet all you want now that the conflict is past enough you're not risking anything by taking a side, I don't give a damn about any of it or any of those people anymore. But keep my name out your damn mouth.

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion in Fandom Community Spaces

One of my fandom servers recently imploded. I didn’t just want to post my immediate reactions and spend the next 3-5 business years litigating my feelings, so I took a few months to deconstruct what happened. Now I’m reconstructing everything into a case study on white supremacy culture in progressive spaces.

Below the poll, I’ve spelled out 17 traits of white supremacy culture, as they appear in progressive spaces, organized into four categories. I relied predominantly on the works of Tema Okun and Robin DiAngelo, whose works and websites expand upon everything I talk about.

I don’t want anyone to beat each other (or themselves) up if they’ve noticed these traits. Just fix it.

My goals with this guide:

Fans can put names to their observations.

Mods/Leaders of fandom spaces ask themselves, “how many of these have I done?”

Everyone gets an idea for what can be done about these traits.

Each listed trait has:

Definition of the trait

Common or fandom-specific examples

Suggestions to begin fixing it

Additional Commentary specific to this particular server incident

That makes this post very long, but it should be easy to skip over sections.

(If you are thinking of sending someone this post because they expressed a lot of these traits, first take a moment and identify how many of these traits you have practiced.

If someone sent you this post as an accusation, show them the above paragraph and ask what traits they recognize in their own behavior. If they say "none," ignore that person. I have will not facilitate the use of anti-racism as a smokescreen for bullying.)

I wasn't able to put this poll at the bottom of the post. I encourage you to wait until you get to the end and then answer the poll.

Because Tumblr polls expire in a week, I also encourage you to answer the same poll here on StrawPoll.

White Supremacy Culture Traits

Context (Basic Outline of What Happened)

In late Oct. 2023, someone on this server made an insensitive joke regarding Native American spirituality. They were quickly corrected by another member, and a third, indigenous member defended the gravity of their culture.

In DMs, a server mod (without the knowledge of the rest of the mod team) rebuked that indigenous server member for mini-modding, but claimed they would also moderate the person who made the joke in the first place; that person who made the joke was this mod’s friend.

This Inciting Incident Mod never did moderate their friend. When this came to light for the rest of the mod team in early Dec. 2023, the Inciting Incident Mod left before they could be ‘fired.’ Meanwhile, the Server Owner tried to cover up the preceding mess when announcing this mod’s departure.

The Indigenous Server Member used @everyone to explain to the server what had happened, dropped screenshots, and left the server.

When the community at large, including other mods, demanded more accountability and action from the mod team and the admins, the Server Owner doubled down on their defensiveness and denials for the next month.

Behind the scenes/in mod chats, the rest of the mods tried to advocate for the same things that the community was demanding. Most of their suggestions were shot down and input disregarded (primarily by the Server Owner).

Ultimately, all the mods were “let go” (fired), leaving only two admins. The second Admin largely followed the lead of the Server Owner, who was the one posting most of the announcements and engaging in the discourse.

The Admins unilaterally froze the server mid-conversations in late Jan. 2024.

They deleted the server on March 4th, 2024.

I. White Fragility

White fragility is the various phenomena by which white fans’ distress at discussions of racism take precedence over the actual occurrences of racism. This is not a conscious tactic, but the result of the layers of insulation from irl racism that white people are conditioned with, combined with white culture and experience being so pervasive as to become invisible.

1: Right To Comfort

Believing that white fans’ requirement for comfort in fandom spaces is more important than the on-going discomfort fans of color experience in the same spaces.

Examples:

Prioritizing the emotional and psychological comfort of some fans over the on-going experiences of other fans.

Scapegoating those who named the racism in the community and accusing them of ‘rocking the boat.’

These might sound familiar:

"This is just supposed to be a fun hobby."

"Can we get back to the good vibes?"

"Why can't we all just get along?"

“Hobbies/Fun shouldn’t be this much work.”

Treating any and all discussion of racism as acts of antagonism.

Fixes:

Learn to sit with discomfort before responding or (re)acting, especially if faced with an accusation. It’s an opportunity for growth, not an opening for attack.

Avoid taking criticisms personally, and avoid treating feedback as accusations. Yes, some accusations and call-outs are personal, but most are not. Even the ones that are personal need not be treated as final value judgments nor the end of the world.

Additional Commentary:

The white fan who’d made the insensitive joke in the first place did not lash out at being corrected. The discomfort was predominantly from some white mods who interpreted all mentions of racism as a conflict.

This trait is frequently found the trait called ‘Urgency.’

2: Defensiveness

Reacting to criticisms as if they were personal attacks, prioritizing comfort over growth, and using hurt feelings to derail discussions.

As author @xiranjayzhao put it in their video discussing a similar incident in the publishing industry, “If you are more concerned at being called racist than racism itself, that is an active hindrance to dismantling racism.”

Examples:

Treating criticism as threatening, inappropriate, or rude.

Focusing on making sure one’s own feelings or the feelings of community leaders are not getting hurt. This process often takes up more time and energy than addressing the actual problems do.

Spend energy defending against charges of racism instead of examining how racism might actually be happening.

White fans targeted by other oppressions (I.e. sexism, homophobia, etc.) express resentment because they feel that the naming of racism is erasing their experiences of marginalization from their other identities. This is especially prevalent in fandom as our communities are dominated by women and queer people.

Fixes:

Identify and understand the link between defensiveness and fear. When you recognize your own defensiveness, ask yourself what you are defending, and what you feel that you are defending against.

Develop culture of naming defensiveness when it arises.

Be honest with yourself and with the community about the power dynamics in the situation and respond thoughtfully. The person with greater power has the greater responsibility to name and move through their own defensiveness.

This is most important for small, online community leaders (I.e. Discord server mods). However little power we feel like we have, we still have more power than all the other members.

Additional Commentary:

Defensiveness was ultimately the biggest problem in this particular server’s implosion, and continues to be the most prevalent problem I observe in many other communities. The majority of the problems in these communities came not from actual acts of racism or patterns of insensitivity, but a few white fans’ defensiveness when these were named.

3: Fear of Open Conflict

When discomfort with talking about racism begets outright avoidance. This becomes “toxic positivity,” creating a pattern of suppressing any and all disagreements with a fixation on “keeping the peace.”

Examples:

Ignoring or deflecting conflict, no matter how minor.

Emphasis on tone, performing friendliness, and on everyone ‘calming down’ once even a hint of conflict arises.

Scapegoating people who bring up racism or equating criticisms with ‘rudeness.’

Fixes:

Role play, discuss, or plan for ways to handle conflict before it happens.

Don't require hard issues to be raised in `acceptable' ways.

Once a conflict is resolved, revisit it and see how it might have been handled differently.

Additional Commentary:

This particular server’s admin team was understandably hypersensitive to conflict; the server had been previously wracked by fandom dramas unrelated to racism. However, this sympathetic feeling metastasized into an unsympathetic habit of total conflict suppression. Had that Inciting Incident Mod not reacted to that faint hint of friction, or had the admins later been willing to name and acknowledge mistakes from the moderation team as an unintended instance of racism, almost none of this final drama would have happened.

4: Denial

Insistence that racism is an individual problem that requires intent; refusal to see or acknowledge systemic problems brought to one’s attention.

Examples:

A pattern of downplaying or denying what POC are saying about their experiences.

Insisting intent is more important than impact.

Insisting that if someone did not mean to be racist, then the harms they perpetuated cannot have been serious.

Insisting that a person or group can free from racialized conditioning, leading to statements like "I don't see color," “I don’t care what anyone’s race is,” “we can’t even tell race on the Internet,” and "we're all the same."

Fixes:

Learn to acknowledge any fear that naming racism brings up; the feeling is not wrong or right. Move through the feeling and address what has been raised.

Assume that any naming of racism is on target. Instead of asking, “is it racism,” ask, “how is it racism?”

Learn not to take accusations of racism or white supremacy culture as personal attacks or criticisms.

Get into the habit of saying, “tell me more,” instead of jumping to denial and counter arguments.

II. Exceptionalism

AKA “the Illusion of Control.” The belief, conscious or subconscious, that one knows the right way to do things and is uniquely qualified implement it. This might literally mean one’s self, or just people similar to one’s self.

5: Paternalism

The belief that one can dictate what is ‘best’ for everyone or make decisions on others’ behalf without their input.

Examples:

Deeming it unnecessary to understand the viewpoints and experiences of people for whom one is making decisions.

Labeling people for whom one is making decisions as unqualified.

Majority of community members get marginalized from decision-making processes. Either there is no mechanism for community input, or community input is disregarded by those in power.

Frequently, these decisions also have the most outsized impact on those with the least power, e.x. members who don’t have personal friendships with mods.

Fixes:

Realize that everyone has a worldview, including you. No one’s experiences or education (or lack thereof) disqualifies them from having agency in your community.

Always include those most affected by community decisions in the brainstorming and decision-making processes.

Build in an understanding that every approach yields unintended consequences; even the most strategically made decisions will have unanticipated consequences.

Additional Commentary:

The Server Owner consistently made unilateral decisions on other people’s behalf. They also required members to be 21+ in this server, despite the show it was for only being 18+

In the interest of living up to my own standards, I must acknowledge that I was also being paternalistic.

When I first joined the server, I questioned that age requirement. The Server Owner claimed that they felt uncomfortable talking about mature topics around 18-20 year olds…and “joked” that they viewed 18-20 year olds like children. Their defensiveness reminded me of elementary school children insisting kids in the grade immediately below them are babies. On the spot, I thought the Server Owner must be in their early 20s at the oldest. With zero evidence but a lot of confirmation bias, this feeling cemented into an assumption due to some of their moderation choices (e.x. pinning messages by their whims, thus confusing newcomers). I even wondered if they grew up in a cult environment due to unusual gaps in their knowledge (e.x. being surprised that it didn’t snow in most of Thailand). I thought I could and should, over time, convince them of 'better' ways to moderate, and attributed my disagreements with some of their moderation choices to their youth.

Then the Server Owner mentioned having been to uni nearly 20 years ago, making them almost double the age I’d assumed they were.

Looking back, this was an act of paternalism on my part that spanned over a year and a half. I’m not proud of this, and I would like to think I would still come to be ashamed of this even if the Server Owner actually had been as young as I thought they were. Regardless of their actual age, this was an incredibly paternalistic viewpoint for me to have about any adult.

6: Power Hoarding

People scrabbling to hold onto whatever little power they have; resisting anything which makes them feel threatened in their position of leadership or influence.

Examples:

Feeling threatened when someone suggests changes in how things should be done in the community.

Suggestions for change often get taken as an indicator of poor leadership.

People with power insisting they do not feel threatened or defensive in the face of suggestions for change.

Assuming that anyone wanting a change are ill-informed or malicious.

“Blaming the messenger,” such as focusing on the person advocating for change rather than the substance of what change they are trying to make.

Fixes:

Leaders should expect challenges and change and learn to see this a sign that someone cares about the community enough to want to stay and reform it. Because our spaces are predominantly for hobbies, people have less need to stay, even if they have a strong desire to. If someone truly thought we were hopeless leaders, they would not be advocating for change; they would just leave.

Adopt a “tell me more” approach when someone suggests a change or challenges an existing structure * even if the thing they are trying to change is something you care deeply about preserving.

Make friends with your ego. Everyone has one. You’ll do better in the long run when you know what will automatically kick up your defensiveness; don’t try to pretend nothing will.

Additional Commentary:

The admins caused many of their own problems by consistently disregarding others’ input; they not only ignored the criticisms of the community, they ‘fired’ the entire rest of the mod team for giving suggestions that the admins did not want to hear.

7: Individualism

Believing that one can be immune from social conditioning and systemic biases, or that individual actions are sufficient to change a community.

Examples:

Believing that one can be “isolated” from the conditioning of the culture they were raised in.

Not seeing the ways dominant identities * in gender, class, sexuality, religion, able-bodiedness, age, etc. * are informed by belonging to a group that shapes cultural norms and behavior.

This one is also hard for people in fandom to recognize. Many of us are marginalized in one aspect of our identity, and marginalization in one area can make it incredibly difficult to recognize or acknowledge privilege in another.

Accusing people advocating for change of “not being team players,” because one does not recognize the large groups on whose behalf they are advocating for.

Focusing on whether or not an individual “is racist,” while ignoring systemic racism in the community’s culture or leadership.

Fixes:

Get into the habit of acknowledging both your marginalizations and your privileges. For example, I am a queer woman of color, which are three traits of marginalization. I was also raised middle-class, I have a college degree, and I am cis; three traits of privilege. All these traits inform my experiences and world view and make me subjective in different ways.

Learn how our dominant identities and how our membership in dominant identity groups informs us both overtly and covertly (while realizing too that these identities do not have to define us).

Realize we all have internalized conditioning, including racist conditioning. Commitment to anti-racism is not about being ‘good’ or ‘bad;’ it’s a commit to challenge one’s own conditioning and subconscious biases on an on-going basis.

Focus on collective accountability as much as individual accountability.

Because many people, especially on social media, use ‘accountability’ as a euphemism for ‘punishment,’ I want to be clear that this does not mean collective punishment. It means recognizing that people react to their peers (dis)approval on even the smallest scale, that people want to fit in, and that people often fear standing out. We are often not making individual decisions so much as “going with their gut” or “going with the flow.” When that’s the case, that means we need to re-condition what our gut tells us and change where that flow is going * both of which are community actions, not individual ones.

Additional Commentary:

In the Individualism page on her website, Tema Okun shared a personal story about how her upbringing had blinded her to the very real risks her POC colleagues faced even while working with well-intentioned white leaders. This story resonated with me and my experience in this fandom server.

The white admins either did not understand (or did not care) what it would cost a POC like me to try to help them. I was attempting to mediate rather than prosecute, and speaking gently as I did - which I was only doing to try to balance the need for change against the admins’ need for white comfort. Multiple people blocked me during this time period, and most did not see what came after. I try not to assume I’m more important or relevant than I am, but I and many others noticed the drastic change in the admins’ behavior once my rhetoric shifted from ‘benefit of the doubt’ to ‘naming mistakes and suggesting changes.’ I was trying to help the admins, but it came out to nothing and I still ended up paying a price and losing friends.

8: I'm The Only One

The assumption that one knows best; therefore, they have the unique right and responsibility to take unilateral action.

Examples:

Believing that the only way to get something done right is to do it one’s self. (Related to ‘One Right Way.’)

Believing that only one person is entitled or qualified to determine the right way and take action, typically in isolation from the people who will be impacted by our decisions.

Often goes hand-in-hand with micro-management (or in the case of online communities, micro-moderation).

Attempting to downplay or cover-up flaws or mistakes in leadership, fearing that the community cannot survive people discovering leadership isn’t perfect.

Fixes:

Hold ourselves and each other accountable for mistakes without assuming that we need to be perfect to lead.

Focus on collaborative and collective strategies for responding to mistakes, including accountability but also growth and inner development.

Leaders should make an effort to take in input from as many sources as possible, including the people saying things they do not like, do not want to hear or are challenging their leadership.

Especially the individuals who hold the most power, such as server admins and owners (who have more power than other mods). The higher up in this hierarchy that we are, the more likely that anyone who truly thinks we’re hopeless would simply opt to leave…which means the higher up in the hierarchy we are, the more likely that anyone who is challenging us still expects both themselves and us to stay where we are. Their challenges are not a threat, but an opportunity for growth.

Additional Commentary:

Those last two bullet points under Examples and Instances are what kicked off the entire server-ending drama in the first place. Even though the Inciting Incident Mod made a truly disappointing mistake, I don’t actually see them as having made the biggest misstep in this mess. This mod micro-managed someone and abused their power to shield a friend, but had the admins been willing to acknowledge those mistakes directly, most of the ensuing drama would not have happened.

When I asked the Server Owner to let someone else take over the server instead of closing it off completely, they claimed all the people I suggested were not equipped to handle the server. The only person they were willing to let take over the server was someone who had uncritically supported them during all the discourse. (Though I later found out that this entire discussion was never in good faith to begin with; explanation in the Final Feelings section below.)

9: Entitlement.

Assuming a right to something without any consideration for the possibility that one may not have the right. This assumption frequently is unidirectional and/or implicitly only functions as long as most other people do not have a similar right.

This trait was not core to either Tema Okun’s work on white supremacy culture nor Robin DiAngelo’s work on white fragility. However, it is an underlying component of racism (who is entitled to what), white supremacy culture (entitlement to other people’s works), and white fragility (entitlement to comfort).

Examples:

Assuming that one does not need to ask (or wait for an answer) to use someone else’s work for one’s own purposes. (Related to the trait ‘Urgency.’)

Believing that people’s boundaries regarding their work or creations do not matter. I hope I don’t need to spell out why this problem gets so in fanfic-based fandom spaces. That can of worms would need its own post and I’m already exhausted from this post.

Related to Right to Comfort: believing one is entitled to a peaceful community, even when it comes at the expense of everyone else’s sense of safety and belonging.

Fixes:

Assume one does not have permission until and unless told you do.

Graciousness if someone does not want you to use their works.

Their reasons may have nothing to do with you, so also learn not take someone else’s refusal personally.

When you do assume a right, take a moment to imagine it’s reversal (I.e. everyone else having the same rights to your work or output). How comfortable are you with this prospect of everyone ‘borrowing’ from you that which you are currently trying to borrow from someone else?

Additional Commentary:

I detailed my direct experience with the admins' entitlement down below under the trait titled ‘Urgency.’

This trend continued with their behaviors towards what server content they did and didn’t delete prior to deleting the whole server. When fans who left or were banned insisted all their own messages in the server be deleted, they were refused on the basis of ‘preserving’ the server. Yet the admins had no problems deleting every channel that had even a shred of discourse in it. They later deleted a few other channels on the grounds of people’s personal information potentially being in those channels and putting members at risk…except that if there was any such information, it had always been present in this channels; why did it suddenly matter now? I concede that they eventually deleted the individual members’ messages per their requests, and that the fear-mongering about private information came from another member altogether. However, between nebulous accusations that an admin had been party to a past doxxing of this member in the first place and the on-going problem of the admins behaving with false urgency (another trait below), I’m having a very hard time being sympathetic about this or giving them any more benefit of the doubt. Their selection of which channels to delete look less like protecting server members and more like a failed attempted to protect their own reputations.

III. Binary Thinking

This is not just a futile attempt to simplify reality, but an entitlement to a simplified reality and a habit of attempting to force others into one’s own dualistic constructions.

10: Either/Or

Polarization of issues and assumptions, categorical thinking, and viewing everything through this binary lens.

Examples:

Positioning or presenting options or issues as either/or -- good/bad, right/wrong, with us/against us, pro/anti, good/evil, safe/dangerous, etc.

Related to Perfectionism: a suggested solution must be either perfect or it’s useless.

Tendency to escalate instead of de-escalating, especially in a context where de-escalating is viewed as dismissing a problem.

Generalizing individual experiences or statements to the collective, or attempting to dismiss a claim because it is coming from an individual; either “everyone” is saying something or “no one” is saying it.

Fixes:

Cultivate a habit or community culture of looking for multiple ‘takes,’ viewpoints, and conclusions.

Break the habit of trying to sort people and ideas into two or a few categories.

Practice taking situations with seemingly only two possibilities and identifying points between them or alternative options altogether.

Be willing to set a future date or deadline for continuing a disagreement in order to de-escalate emotions in the moment. We have more options than either fixing everything in the moment or ignoring problems forever.

Additional Commentary:

When asked for transparency, this server’s Admins acted as if mistakes had to be either ignored or turned into a big production. This left no room to acknowledge a mistake, learn, and move on, since that was neither ignoring the mistake nor treating it with sufficient drama.

11: Perfectionism

Belief that there is a single right way to accomplish something. Belief that individuals must implement only correct, successful actions (and that missteps and mistakes represent fundamental character flaws).

Examples:

Mistakes are seen as personal, i.e. they reflect badly on the person making them.

Making a mistake is confused with being a mistake; doing wrong is confused with being wrong.

Believing a problem can be permanently resolved with the correct or ‘perfect’ course of action.

Fixes:

Develop a community where the expectation is that everyone will make mistakes, but those mistakes are opportunities for learning, not value judgments.

Accept that, when faced with a systemic or deeply entrenched issues, community leaders will need time to address the problems.

They will probably need to try multiple ideas, some of which might not work. That’s okay; it does not have to be a failure if you learn from it and try again.

Additional Commentary:

In the case of this server’s implosion, perfectionism appeared with the Admins’ fixation on looking for a solution that would ‘put the matter to rest.’ They ignored or actively derided suggestions that did not ‘solve’ the problem in its entirety.

12: One Right Way

The belief that there is a particular correct or ideal way of doing this (and that fault lies with others for not following this particular correct way).

Examples:

Assuming that once people are introduced to the right way, they will ‘see the light’ and adopt it.

Believing that when one’s way is not working, the fault lies with everyone else for not ‘converting,’ not the method itself.

Related to perfectionism: believing there is a singular or permanent solution to on-going, systemic problems.

Believing only certain people are qualified to address or resolve problems. This is especially prevalent among people whose post-secondary education was mostly institutional (i.e. college).

Fixes:

Create a culture of support that recognizes how mistakes sometimes lead to positive results.

Challenge notions of what constitutes the "right way" and what defines a "mistake."

Catch our internalized assumptions about being ‘qualified’ to fix a problem on our own or take on a large responsibility.

Additional Commentary:

Once again, in the interests of living up to my own standards, that means admitting when I’m doing or did the very habits I’m castigating. While my intent was not to behave as if I thought there was One Right Way, I recognize that my actions had the same impact as if I did believe in One Right Way. I presented a solution (collection of rules, guides, and channels) from a server I owned in another fandom entirely, and implied that there was only one right way to ‘fix’ the server.

That said, their conduct in utilizing this also reflected Entitlement and Urgency (which is where I elaborated).

13: (Belief in) Objectivity

The belief that there is some neutral, unbiased experience or viewpoint a person can have.

Because patriarchy so often uses claims of emotionality to dismiss women, many women become oversensitive to claims of subjectivity or identity-based bias. This can make recognizing the invalidity of objectivity difficult in communities whose leadership is dominated by women, especially white women (as white men tend to be most likely to rely on accusations of excess emotion in the first place).

Examples:

Fixation on prioritizing facts over feelings, or thinking feelings can be disregarded and ignored.

Requiring people to think in a linear fashion or otherwise expecting others to perform only the type of logic validated by those in power.

Those in power get to be scared, hurt, or angry and still viewed as rational/logical, while marginalized people who are visibly scared, hurt, or angry are deemed irrational/illogical.

Refusal to acknowledge when a certain line of logic is covering an emotional bias, perspective, or agenda.

Fixes:

Own up to one’s subjectivity; instead of assuming that one can have some arch-neutral worldview, be clear about your background, experiences, and potential biases (whether you believe you actually have these biases or not).

Recognize your own worldview will be as subjective as everybody else’s. If your view of society is also part of the dominant view of society (e.x. if you are white and/or cis and/or male and/or…), this means you were probably conditioned to believe certain assumptions are objective when they are actually subjective.

There is no way to be human without being biased by one’s identity and experience; some identities are just so privileged or normalized by institutions that they are the “invisible” default or norm.

Get into the habit of trying to determine what a situation you are in looks like from the outside, what information others do and do not have, or getting diverse perspectives on various situations.

By “get into the habit,” I mean we should practice doing this even in situations without confrontation, crisis, or argument. Analyze successful incidents and events this way to get the practice for handling unsuccessful incidents and crises.

Utilize ‘I’ statements and make sure not to assume that your personal experience is the same as everyone else’s experiences.

Community leaders have to take extra special care with what we say about our communities and how we present our assumptions and experiences. When we claim a community is trustworthy or safe, we just make it even less trustworthy or safe for anyone feels otherwise, because this disconnect between our experiences (that we generalize) and theirs (that we individualize) creates a barrier against further feedback.

Additional Commentary:

This was also related to at least one admin struggling to disconnect their own experiences with everyone else’s experiences. To the admin, because so much of their own time was consumed by this discourse, they spoke and behaved as if this were consuming the entire server. They did not realize that most of the members of the server had nothing to do with this discourse, and many did not even know it was happening…until the admin started repeatedly utilizing @everyone. This implies the admin viewed their own experience as “objective” and thus projected their own experience onto everybody else.

VI. Validation Seeking

I called this collection of traits ‘validation seeking’ because they all trace back to appeals to external authorities or claims of external pressures.

14: Progress = More

Assuming solutions always require “more” of something; never considering that existing resources could be sufficient or that “less” might be a solution.

Examples:

Assuming the goal is always to grow membership, rather than maintaining an enjoyable community

Assuming that “more” will fix a problem (e.x. more moderators will fix a moderation problem)

Disregarding the costs of growth (such as how increased number of channels can make a community overwhelming to newcomers)

Valuing people who have achieved a certain milestone or objective metric of progress more than those who have not (e.x. valuing older members over younger ones, valuing college-educated members over those without college education, etc.)

Fixes:

Try to make sustainable decisions, with an aim not for endless growth but maintaining the actual goal of the community.

When pursuing “more” of something to solve a problem, first evaluate what you actually need and determine why the existing number of resources is no longer sufficient when it previously had been.

For example, are you actually pursuing more moderators because there is an increase in activity and the existing moderation team feels burnt out and falling behind? Or are you just assuming that you need more moderators regardless of activity levels?

15: Quantity Over Quality

Believing that only things that can be numerically measured have value (and that things which cannot be measured have little to no value).

Examples:

Fixation on things like number of members in a community (quantity) over the members’ relationships and experiences in said community (quality)

Treating quantified milestones as a goal in their own right, rather than means to an end or a guideline (e.x. acquiring a certain number of moderators or maintaining a certain number of channels in a server)

Discomfort with emotions and feelings (as they cannot be measured objectively)

Fixes:

Determine traits and practices important to your community which cannot be easily quantatively (safety, respect, mutualism, etc.) and think of ways to evaluate them (for example: open-ended questions in a survey instead of relying exclusively on numerical ratings or menu options)

Focus less on output goals and more on process goals, such as how many new ideas were considered or how many people felt fully heard in a meeting. Even if, in the short run, this feels like leading to a bunch of unproductive meetings, in the long run this creates a more robust decision-making process.

Treat ‘accountability’ not as a euphemism for punishment (which social media tends to do), but as an opening for receiving support.

Additional Commentary:

The admins fixated on obtaining more moderators, but the reality is that the problems facing the community did not need more moderators, but rather a shift in culture altogether - a thing which could have easily been engendered by the admins on their own, even without additional moderators.

16: Worshiping the Written Word

Fixation on knowledge provided by institutions over people’s lived experiences and on-going, dynamic realities.

This one is hard to recognize in virtual communities because most or all of our interactions are “written” in chats and social media.

Examples:

Attempting to use dictionary definitions of words as arguments in and of themselves or treating them as the end of an argument.

Refusing to acknowledge that the way people use a word in daily living may not match up to the institutional definition.

Using errors in spelling, grammar, or language to justify dismissing someone’s arguments.

Over-valuing people who can write well (or just write a lot), and undervaluing the contributions from people who rely on other media formats or informal documentation.

Fixes:

Treat encyclopedia articles and dictionary definitions as a conversation starter, not an argument ender, e.x. “This is my understanding of that word; what’s yours?” or “In what ways does this ‘official’ definition fall short?”

Focus less on using resources (articles, videos, guides, etc.) as an appeal to authority in an argument, and more as a starting point from which you develop your own community guidelines.

Additional Commentary:

I had an out-sized impact on discourse simply because I could write a lot in one go. Some of that was me anonymously relaying other people’s words on their behalf and some was original on my part; most of what I said simply reiterated what others had already conveyed. However, as I did so in a pseudo-academic manner, my word was given more weight.

Sharing of resources like educational articles or videos were treated as the end of a discussion, rather than the start of one.

17: Urgency

Applying extremely short deadlines to action, giving no time for rest or consideration. Utilizing the overarching urgency of racism as an excuse for short-sighted, short-term actions.

Examples:

Related to Quality Over Quantity: prioritizes measurable actions over impact.

Fixation on appearing to address racism moreso than actually doing it.

Uses expediency to justify poor-decision making processes or lack of consideration (related to Entitlement, Power Hoarding, and Conflict Aversion).

Often relies on perpetuating the idea that racism can be “solved” (which in turn implies that future accusations of racism cannot be made, nor community problems discussed).

Creating a culture of anxiety as people believe they must act immediately or they will never get to act at all.

Related to Right to Comfort: rushing decision-making in order to rush towards an idealized state of no further conflict.

Fixes:

When the feeling of urgency arises, slow down and encourage people pause, restate the goal, and dive deeper into alternatives.

Avoid making decisions under extreme pressure.

Work to distinguish what is actual pressure and what is pressure that you or others are creating.

Establish plans ahead of time for how decisions will be made during times of urgency, and how crises can be handled in the short-term while leaders evaluate ideas for long-term change.

This is related to Conflict Avoidance. When community leaders are uncomfortable with conflict, this also means not wanting to think about potential conflicts, and thus having no plans when conflict arises anyway. Becoming comfortable with conflict also allows planning for conflict management.

Additional Commentary:

When I showed the admins my fandom wank resolving set-up from another server (as mentioned in my additional commentary on One Right Way), they asked me if they could just use it as it was. However, they were too impatient to actually wait for an answer and used it, anyway, before I could respond. It was very clear that my answer never actually mattered to them. Had they waited, I would have explained how this exact set-up was not a good fit for this community and its current problems; I was sharing it assuming they would use it as a source of inspiration to brainstorm their own ideas for their own server. In addition, while I did not mind sharing, these were not my sole creation, but the product of a team of mods in my other server. Even if it had been a good fit, I would have checked with other mods whose labor had gone into this set-up to see if they were also alright with its wholesale reuse.

My experience is only one example. Ultimately, the admins kept fumbling, and increasingly claimed it was all due to the pressure and demands from the community that they ‘handle it’ - refusing to acknowledge that community members weren’t asking for an immediate solution to every problem. This urgency was self-inflicted. The server admins disregarded all their remaining mods’ suggestions that would have given them more time to address these problems carefully. Server-wide slow-downs, channel trimming, temporary server freeze, etc. - the admins had multiple ideas given to them, but shot them all down. The admins’ goal was not to address the problems, but to suppress discussions of racism as fast as possible because they were uncomfortable with admitting its existence in the first place (see Right to Comfort at the top).

Final Feelings

What Took Me So Long To Say Anything?

I didn’t want to risk the admins prematurely deleting the server out of spite. They were already unilaterally and suddenly taking away a community space from hundreds of fans entirely for their own benefit. I could not count on them being above robbing people the final opportunity to recover the last shreds of their materials and memories from the server.

I also, quite frankly, just had a lot going on in my offline life.

I continued to take my time even after they deleted the server because I was hurt and furious. I needed time to turn what was originally a soliloquy of my sorrows into an educational guide.

This was exacerbated by finding out that the admins faked the ‘death’ of the server:

As you can imagine, I was furious - and to be honest, I still am. That anger was precisely why I made myself slow down. I did not want to burn down the fandom for the sake of keeping only myself warm.

Complicated Feelings

I feel hurt and betrayed by the Admins and disappointed in the Inciting Incident Mod…but one thing I will say for them is that they expressed interest in learning the language and culture of the country that our fandom’s show came from.

They showed far more interest than that aforementioned Indigenous Server Member ever did.

I don’t begrudge this indigenous fan for defending their cultural tradition, nor their anger over how it was handled. I also acknowledge that in fandom and irl, Asian diaspora often end up partaking in white supremacy culture and entitlements. However, I do find this fan's umbrage at the initial ignorance to be tremendously hypocritical given this fan’s approach to Asian cultures, traditions, and histories. Their fanfics, server interactions, and other fanworks in this Asian media fandom demonstrated incredible disregard about Asian cultures - one which this fan never showed any interest in undoing or challenging.

I doubt it was a coincidence that this fan blocked me on Discord right around the time I started talking about the westernization of eastern characters and settings. Even if it was, that doesn’t lessen the pervasive apathy towards Asian culture in their fandom activities.

I routinely see fans call for the decolonization fandom when it comes to BIPOC people settings, only for these same fans to turn around and perpetuate the colonization of fandom when it comes to Asian people and settings.

This does not mean western fans shouldn’t participate in an eastern fandom! This participation is the best way to learn about a new culture. Mistakes and missteps are parts of the learning process, both at the individual level and at the collective level.

This is also not to pass a judgment on that specific fan or their creative works. That would be hypocritical of me in turn, given I’ve enjoyed some of those stories and fanworks, anyway.

I am bringing this up to demonstrate why solidarity is difficult for fans of color.

As an Asian diaspora fan in particular, I hate feeling like my choices are “BIPOC fans with ignorance and apathy that they don’t want to unpack” and “white fans with supremacy culture that they don’t want to unpack.” Either way, I’m going to have to put up with a ton of entitlement (never mind the rampant fetishization of Asians from all sides, which is its own can of worms I can’t even open right now).

And if I try to speak up about any of this, I will get blocked or I will be accused of being an anti-fandom killjoy.

Again.

Final Thoughts

People change for the better, and communities change for the better.

I know fandom can change because I’ve seen how it’s already changed. Fans take social justice issues and racial justice issues far more seriously than they did 20, 10, or even 5 years ago, and that’s just my own living memory of fandom.

We should always take a moment to recognize and celebrate how much better we are today than we were in the metaphorical yesterday.

But being better than yesterday does not mean being good enough for tomorrow.

And we still have a long way to go.

Thank you for reading this monstrously long post all the way to the end. Please remember to answer the poll at the top, and reblog.

#kindergarten mafia

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whumpmatsus · 3 years ago

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Is it alright if i ask for something comforting with the matsuno boys? Its just that i feel overwhelmed with my life lately. On one hand i got the job i wanted but on the other hand im expected to just suck it up, be an "adult" and abandon my hobbies or other skill learnings that i have been so proud of- funny enough i was encouraged but then suddenly im expected to leave everything and dont have a decent balance? Im so confused by the way im treated and by the expectations that others have from me. Even art doesnt feel as enjoyable i feel guilty picking up a pencil because im scared ive wasted time on not studying or if i dont make a certain deadline. Everything is about " completing tasks as quickly as possible" i feel like i havent stopped and caught my breath for so long. Your writings are very soothing esp in this field, of course you dont have to pressure yourself to write it quickly or anything! Keep it at your own pace! i guess its because of this hectic looking life that i find osomatsu san so comforting right now.

AH MAN honey....... I totally getchu, I feel like this a lot too

I'm not in college/university or anything yet, but I do work in a fast-paced environment where sometimes it feels like lots of stress for little money and when I get home, even after not working very long, a lot of the time I'm just too tired to do the stuff I enjoy. it's a little better on some days, but this feeling is SO understandable and I'm sure lots of other people can relate too

honestly that's probably why I find these boys so comforting too, just thinking about goofing off and having fun with them is such a great escape 🖤

I hope this is a comfort for you, bb!!! 🤗

❤️ Osomatsu's solution is literally to just drag you out to do something fun with him! As far as he's concerned, you need to chill, big time, so why not dinner and drinks or pachinko or something? An hour or two relaxing isn't gonna fuck up your whole life or anything, so Osomatsu being Osomatsu, he's not taking no for an answer. He makes sure you have a good time, but he's actually responsible in also making sure he doesn't keep you away too long. He'll even help you study after the fun's over, if you want; he's good at flash cards, because his reward system is that every time you get one right, he gives you a kiss! (... And/or, maybe something a little dirtier, if you prefer~)

💙 Karamatsu has been trying to find his own balance lately, so he certainly understands where you're coming from. He knows it's difficult, and the anxiety that comes with feeling like you've wasted time. After all, time is limited, and once it's gone, there's no getting it back. But he's also slowly learning to remind himself that if you're not enjoying your life, then what's the point of all the work? So he somehow manages to coax you away from it, doing your own hobby sitting side by side with him while he plays guitar. Just for a little bit; because if something makes you happy, it's never a waste of time.

💚 Choromatsu feels the same way maybe more than anyone, and he's never sure what to do about his own feelings. He works as hard as he can, but in the end, he always feels like he could have done more and not slacked off so much. He's just kind of accepted those feelings. When it's you, though... he can't stand seeing you so anxious and worried. He'll gather up all his courage and sit down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder. He takes your hand and murmurs softly that you've earned a break, it's time to do something fun. He's here to spend time with you now, so maybe the two of you can focus on something else for a little bit.

💜 Ichimatsu couldn't really care less about all this stuff that's making you stressed and unhappy, but he knows it's something you want to do. Just... maybe a little less. He'd tell you to just give it up if it's stressing you out, except he knows you don't want to do that, so he can't really say that. Still, balance is important. People just shouldn't be pushing at you. As someone who has a hard time feeling his feelings, it makes him a little angry that you're being pressured to just never be happy again. It should be the opposite. In true catlike fashion, when he thinks you need a break, he kind of just... pushes himself into your lap, shoving everything else away. Just cuddle for a little bit, and then you can get back to all this other shit.

💛 Jyushimatsu is pretty sure everything you're working on is really really stressful, so, why don't you just take a break?? He doesn't quite get how pressured you feel or what the anxiety is like, simply because he doesn't usually deal with those things. It's pretty clear how much this is affecting you, though; if he plays too much baseball in a day, it makes him sore, so he likens the same thing happening to your brain and feelings. That means you need to relax and not overdo it! Putting that into practice is harder. But, that's what he's here for! His favorite method of getting you to take a break is to make you laugh so hard you literally can't do anything else for a minute. Then maybe some snuggles, because, well, he knows you can't say no to him wanting to snuggle!

💖Totty is working part-time himself, so he knows work schedules can be hectic as fuck, plus all the studying you're doing on top of that? He's a little surprised you haven't keeled over yet. You work really hard, and that's a good thing... but it can also be bad for you. So he'd like to see you being a bit less hard on yourself. You're only human, you know? You're just one person! You need to take breaks to be able to function properly, and doing things you like is one of the things that makes all the work worth it. He can be sort of manipulative about it, only because he knows being direct probably isn't going to work. He starts with massaging your shoulders and giving you kisses, talking about how much nicer it'd be if you did something else for a bit. If he can drag you away from everything else, maybe get you to do a face mask or take a bath with him, just relax, he'll count it as a win.

#Osomatsu san #whump #hurt/comfort #Osomatsu #Karamatsu #Choromatsu #Ichimatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #AAAAA BABE THEY'RE ALL TRYIN #they love u <3

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niawritess · 4 years ago

Text

The Lovestruck~Chapter 19

Shock word was an understandment as what you were feeling right now. You were in the car with Ria going back home, you couldn't even say anything to him as you were too shocked and before you could, Ria dragged you to the car saying mom has been calling.

Were you dreaming? Did you heard it right? He likes you? All of this came as a surprise to you and the whole ride you were occupied by those thoughts.

Arriving at home, you straight went to your room and your parents were confused by your behavior before looking at Ria questionly but she just shrugged and followed you.

"Y/n." She called out entering your room to see you sitting on the bed lost in thoughts before aproaching you and sat in front of you.

"Y/n? What's wrong? You have been quiet since we have come back. Did something happen?" She placed her hand on top of yours and you looked at her blankly.

"Baekhyun." You uttered licking your lips. "Baekhyun... confessed to me."

She stared at you blankly and then. "AAAHHHHHHHHH"

You closed your ears and eyes before shutting her up by covering her mouth then your door burst opened revealing Daniel.

"What-what happened? Why did you scream?" He asked panicked and you glared at Ria.

"Nothing, she has gone crazy."

"I thought something big happened." He scoffed walking away.

"Is it true? When? How? Wait- at the beach? I told you, he likes you!" She began her rambling as you told her everything.

"OMG! This is such a great news! So what did you say?"

You looked at her in innocently. "Nothing."

Her jaw dropped. "Nothing? Are you serious? The Byun Baekhyun confessed to you and you said nothing?"

You groaned leaning your against the headboard. "I.. I couldn't say anything. I was too shocked, okay. And it was so unexpected."

"So? How do feel about him?"

"I..don't know. I mean yes, he's a good guy and I feel comfortable and happy around him." You paused sighing while clutching the teddy close to you. "But lately I'm really nervous around him where my heart is like going to burst and it's so confusing.

Ria stared at you with a understanding look before she slapped her forehead lightly. "Silly! There's your answer. You don't feel like this for anyone but for someone you love and it's okay. There's no hurry so, take your time to be sure about your feelings."

Upon hearing her words, you gave this a thought and realized she is right. Your heart beat quicken at the thought of him and cheeks heat up.

"Oh My God! Y/n! You're blushing." She laughed loudly and you hid your cheeks feeling embarrassed.

"Shut up!"

"I'm so happy for you!" She jumped on you making your body fall back with a groan.

"You're heavy!"

Later that night, you couldn't sleep well as the scene at the beach kept playing in your mind making you nervous, scared and happy as well. You have never been in a relationship, always kept yourself distant with these things yet you were here feeling all of this.

Being in a relationship scared you a little. You don't know, if you were ready for it and several things were in your mind with all of these questions and you just needed a bit of time.

Meanwhile, Baekhyun who kept cursing himself for not holding himself back for keeping his mouth shut. He wasn't planning on confessing like this but you just stood there and he couldn't help but blurt out everything and now was thinking if he scared you or would you feel awkward around him because that was the last thing he wanted.

***

(9 January)

You woke up with a slight nervousness at how would you face him after yesterday. Luck was probably on your side when you didn't got a glimpse of Baekhyun at the college as you had lunch with the boys and they told that he was busy somewhere and that somehow made you relieved but lowkey you wanted to see him.

Then a thought hit you that you have to go to Café too and you would definitely see him there.

Later, in the library, Ria was looking for some books assigned to her from her professor before she came across with Baekhyun who was picking a book.

"Oh, Baekhyun sunbae."

Baekhyun flinched by the voice before he saw Ria giving him a smile which he reciprocated before his eyes were going here and there in search of someone.

Ria chuckled. "She's not here, must be hiding somewhere."

Baekhyun looked at her startled as he let out an awkward chuckle before he looked at her surprised. "You know?"

She nodded. "We bestfriends have no secrets so while we're talking about it, can I ask you something?"

Baekhyun gave her a nod as she sighed. "Are you sincere about Y/n? I can see you are but I still want to hear it from you."

Baekhyun smiled at her concern for you and he nodded. "I have never been this sincere before and I assure you that."

She nodded smiling. "Then, let me tell you this too. Y/n and I have been bestfriends since high school and I know Y/n more than she knows herself. She's never been into these situations before so it's something new to her and maybe little confusing too. So, I hope you can be a little patient until she's sort it out, plus I'm already on your side. "

Hearing upon her words, Baekhyun was sure that you were lucky to have a friend like Ria before he nodded. "Thanks and i'll keep that in mind. "

With that he walked away before Ria sighed clasping her hands together up in the air. "God, let my ship sail."

"Gosh, Y/n, You're really lucky to have me in your life." Ria flipped her hair before she turned around and got startled to see the librarian judging her with her poker face.

Giving her an awkward smile, Ria rushed out of the library hoping not run into the librarian today.

***

At the Café.

Just as Baekhyun predicted, you were avoiding eye contact with him and the awkward atmosphere was eating him up. However, he couldn't blame you because it would be a normal reaction for someone who got confessed but he didn't wanted that and he's surely gonna make it right.

Your shift was over and you were relieved wanting to get out of the awkwardness as soon as possible but things just doesn't go according to you.

"Y/n." You slightly flinched and there was your heart acting up again beating with an abnormal speed.

"You are avoiding me, aren't you?" He questioned and you mentally face palmed for being obvious as you let out a nervous chuckle while looking everywhere but him. "Me? No, not at all."

"You know you can't lie, so why do you even try it?"

You bit your lip before looking at him and instantly looked away finding hard to look at him.

"Can we talk?"

"Right now?"

"Yes." He said firmly and you hesitantly nodded.

He licked his lips before speaking. "I know what happened yesterday was unexpected for you and trust me it was same for me. I never wanted to confess like that but it just happened and now I'm not going to run away."

"I don't want to pressure you in any way and I'm alright with you taking how much ever time you want. I'm always willing to wait for you but I just don't us to be awkward like this because this is something I never wanted."

As if he just read your mind that whatever you want to say but couldn't, he said it all and you couldn't be more grateful for it. A smile appeared on your face and you nodded slowly making him smile in relief.

"You're not going to avoid me again, right?"

You chuckled awkwardly. "No, I won't."

"If you did, I'll tell everyone about your that secret." He smiled smugly raising his one eyebrow and your jaw dropped. "Are you threatening me?"

"Is it working?"

"No!"

"It did."

"No, it didn't."

"Then should I-"

"No!"

He laughed hardly and you glared at him playfully and that's how Baekhyun changed the awkward atmosphere into comfortable one. Well, he's Baekhyun for a reason though.

***

(10 January)

Next day, things weren't as awkward but tension was somewhere there. As if something has struck your mind, you began to see Baekhyun in a different light, as you found yourself staring at him again and again.

You weren't the only one, whenever you glanced at him, you caught him staring at you but instead of looking away, he just gave a smile leaving you flustered.

You calmed your beating heart and took the order from the customer and Baekhyun started to make drink. He was about to take it in his hand but his hand got bumped into the counter causing the hot drink spill on his hand.

He hissed which got your attention and your eyes widened seeing him clenching his hand.

"Are you okay?" You grabbed his hand and panicked seeing the redness on the back of his hand.

"Y/n, I'm fine." He assured you but you saw his expression saying opposite.

"Rose-"

"It's okay, I'll take care of it."

"Come here." You led him in the kitchen before walking to the sink and helped him wash his hand.

"Y/n, I'm really okay."

"What do you mean? Look at the redness. I know it must be stinging." You took the ice cube from the fridge and gently rubbed it while blowing on it.

He sighed leaning against the sink as he stared at your face which was filled with concern immediately bringing a smile on his face.

"I thought I was the big clumsy but no, you are one step ahead of me." You nagged like a mother and he chuckled while seeing your this side made his pain less.

"You worry about me, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. What kind of question is that?" You raised your head to see him smiling at you and then you realized.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you worried about me?" He leaned forward making your breath hitched at the closeness.

"Y/n, Baekhyun!"

You both backed away hearing Rose's voice and Baekhyun lowly groaned as he got interrupted in the moment before Rose walked inside.

"How's your hand?"

"It's better now, since Y/n has treated it." He smiled at you but you didn't looked at feeling too nervous by his gaze.

Rose came to tell that she has to go home a little early for some reason and asked you both to take care of the Café behind. You both agreed and soon she was off to her home while you both continued your work not before you asked Baekhyun to take orders only and seeing your stern expression, he agreed instantly.

It was dawn already, means the working hours were over and you both got out but then you spotted a person you never expected to see here.

Liam was walking towards you and you frowned in confusion and when he approached you, he smiled which was forced before he looked at Baekhyun and they both stared at each other with unreadable expression like last time.

You asked him the reason of his presence here where he told you that Daniel was out with his friends so he came to get you. Honestly, you found it uncomfortable, especially when Baekhyun was standing here and you didn't wanted any misunderstanding between you two.

Baekhyun felt jealous seeing another guy to take you home and for some reason he really didn't took a liking to Liam. Sighing, he was about to lock the door but then it hit him that he forgot the keys inside.

You chuckled at his forgetfulness as he shot you a sheepish grin before going inside to get keys. Liam rolled his eyes getting impatient as he just wanted to leave from here. Apparently, he was forced to come here as his mom pressured him go.

"Y/n, can we just go? He can do it himself you know." Liam said and you looked at him a little bit furiously.

"No, we both work here. And I don't find it appropriate to leave him like that." You replied, annoyed by his attitude.

"Let's just leave, everyone is waiting." His impatience got over him and he grabbed your wrist startling you.

"Liam, what the heck are-"

"Let go of her hand." Baekhyun jumped in suddenly gripping on his wrist and Liam scoffed letting go before facing him.

"And who do you think you are?"

"Doesn't matter. But you should know how to respect a girl and she is your freaking cousin!" His jaw clenched with his eyes glaring down at him and and you stared at him shook seeing him angry like this.

"Right, she's my cousin. So stay out of this!"

"Or what?"

"You-"

"Stop!" You instantly came forward between them as you shielded Baekhyun and narrowed your eyes at the person before you. "Liam, go back home now."

He looked at you in disbelief before his eyes soften as he realized his actions and sighed, looking down too embarrassed to even look at you and taking backwards steps, he turned around and left.

You closed your eyes and sighed before turning around to found nothing as you spotted him inside sitting on a chair. You gulped, walking inside to see him looking down with his hands clasped together as he was calming himself.

"Are you really angry?" You asked, cautiously standing infront of him before sighing. "I don't know what came to him to act like this-"

"Why did you stop us? I was so close to punch him." He cut you off, as he looked up at you frowning as he wasn't angry for his behavior with him but he didn't liked how he misbehaved with you.

You looked at him incredulously. "And then what? A fight would have broke out! And I don't want to see the person I love getting hurt!"

Baekhyun's ear perked up as he gulped looking at you. "Who...do you love?"

"You of course, Who else?! And what's wrong with Liam? I should have a talk with him-" You kept rambling unaware of your words and Baekhyun's eyes lit up as his heart burst out with happiness. "You love me? Did you just say you love me?"

You stopped and looked down at him to see him smiling before realizing your words and your eyes went big. Gasping, you attempted to walk away but he caught your wrist and pulled you back causing your hands to rest on his shoulders as you stood between his legs.

"Where are you going after confessing your love?"

Your cheeks heat up and you chuckled nervously. "When did I?"

"Just now."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I-"

"Stop running away and be my girlfriend already, hm?" He tilted his head staring at you cutely and you stared at him for a moment before a shy smile appeared on your lips as you nodded slowly.

Sure, you were a little bit scared about being in a relationship but it all vanished when you saw his face and you were sure that you don't have to feel like this when you're with him.

"Really?" His eyes widened before smiling widely and you squealed as he lifted you up suddenly with your hands clutching his shoulders tightly.

You looked down at him in surprise and he chuckled looking at you fondly while smiling. "What should I do? I'm so happy."

You bit your lip smiling before you glanced outside to see people giving you both weird look.

"Baekhyun, put me down." You said feeling embarrassed now and he gently put you down. You hid your face in your palms and heard his giggle before feeling his arms wrapped around you as he placed his head on yours.

Soon, you both closed the Café and he was walking you home. While walking, he stopped to take your bag in his hands even though you stopped him. Both of you were silent, just smiling and glancing at eachother.

Not long before, you heard his chuckle making you look at him confused. "Why are you laughing?"

"It's just I suddenly thought of how you came like a shield even though you are one foot shorter than me." He teased and you looked at him offended.

"Oh, so this is what I get for protecting you." You said sarcastically while faking an hurt expression and he just laughed poking your cheek.

You reached your home and took you bag from his hand before smiling at eachother.

"Will you be okay?" He asked indicating the scene happened a while ago and you nodded assuring him.

He nodded as he knew you can handle the situation on your own. "Okay, then tell me if anything happens."

You nodded. "Be safe and text me when you get home."

He nodded before leaning in to press his lips on your forehead sending chills down your spine and making you close your eyes in the reflex before he pulled away smiling and left.

You bit your lip smiling shyly as your hand went to your forehead before walking inside to see your parents and Aunt Jane with Liam in the living room. You made your way to them and greeted her.

"It's good that everyone is here, I have to tell you something but before that," You looked at Liam who avoided your eyes. "Liam, I know you're my cousin but what you did there was really not good and you have to apologize for it."

"What's happening?" Your dad asked confusingly looking back and forth to you and Liam before he sighed letting you continue.

"And Aunt Jane," You looked at her who was close to burst. "I know, you are trying to make me and Liam together but I'm sorry it's never gonna happen. Because for me, Liam is more like a brother and I have no interest in him and from what I see he feels like that too, so kindly stop forcing things on us. I just wanted to clear this, so there won't be any problems later."

As you expected, Aunt Jane stood up with a glare in her eyes."Oppa, look at how your daughter is disrespecting me. "

You frowned before opening you mouth but your dad spoke."She's just clarifying and I don't see any disrespectful in that."

Disbelief expression plastered on Aunt Jane and she couldn't even speak further so she stormed out of your house dragged Liam with him and you could sense the guilt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry dad, because of me Aunt Jane's gonna be angry at you."

"Don't be sorry, in fact I'm so happy to see my daughter is growing up to be a great girl and knows how to stood up for herself, I'm so proud of you." He smiled patting your head and you hugged as you felt so lucky to have parents like them.

Your mom coughed and your dad groaned as the moment got ruined while you laughed. She asked you to get freshen up as she has ordered pizza and you instantly ran up to your room.

You felt so light as if everything was going on the right track and you checked your phone to see Baekhyun's text which instantly made you smile.

Baekhyun : I'm home. How did it go? Did you sorted it out?"

You: of course! Who am I?

You sent it with a smug emoticon and got a reply.

Baekhyun: I know, my girlfriend.

He sent it with a wink emoticon and you felt yourself blushing at the message before another text popped up.

Baekhyun: You're blushing.

You looked at here and there before slapping your forehead as why would he be here but how can you be so obvious even when he can't see you.

You: I'm not. I'm going to have dinner now bye!

Your cheeks were hurting now because of your constant smile and were on fire because of blushing too much. Getting a boyfriend seemed too surreal and thinking about it, you already felt shy but happy and couldn't wait for the next day to see him.

_____________

Here ya go! Hehe~

@wooya1224 @buttercupbbh @jddcfc-blog @usernameloaa

#bbh #exo fanfiction #exo ff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun gifs #baekhyun imagines #baekhyun #baekhyun x reader

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