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glorious-mysteries · 2 months

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In my Irish Fiction class, we read a book called Milkman. It's set in Belfast, in the late 1970s, and is about an eighteen-year-old girl who is being stalked by a local paramilitary known only as Milkman. The narrator is telling her story 20 years after the fact, and reflects on not having the language to describe what was happening to her at the time:

At the time, age eighteen, having been brought up in hair-trigger society where the ground rules were—if no physically violent touch was being laid upon you, and no outright verbal insults were being levelled at you, and no taunting looks in the vicinity either, then nothing was happening, so how could you be under attack from something that wasn’t there? At eighteen I had no proper understanding of encroachment.

Our professor told us to start the book early, as the prose is dense and students have found it difficult in the past. On the day before we were supposed to have it read, I stayed in at school for an evening class. On my way there, I came across a girl the in the Irish course, in the year below me, with her copy of Milkman open on her lap. She was still in the first half.

"How are you finding it?" I asked her.

She said it was difficult, but that she was enjoying it. She said the descriptions of the protagonist's psychological deterioration resonated with her, as she herself had been stalked earlier this year.

I shouldn't have asked about it, but I did. I was surprised. I asked her if it was someone at the university, and then immediately said I was sorry, because, really, who would want to disclose the details of their being stalked to an acquaintance. She said it was okay, but that she wasn't going to answer me. I went to class and tried to forget about the whole thing.

A few weeks later, I was sitting with some people in our department's student lounge, discussing the works we had read for that course. They were all heavy, but we all agreed that Milkman was the darkest. One guy said that he was afraid that the book would end with the protagonist surrendering to Milkman's attempts to coerce her into an affair, but that he was glad that it didn't. Not as dark as it could have been, in other words. This seemed to me a correct assessment, so didn't think much more of it before we all dispersed for the day.

The next afternoon, we were in a communications class. We have been discussing democratic discourse and demagogic discourse; rhetorics of civility and incivility. That day we were discussing when and how incivility crosses the line into verbal abuse. Before giving us information on the rhetoric of abuse, our professor asked us to define the word for ourselves. What do we think "abuse" is? Then she asked if anyone would share their answers. The guy who the previous day had expressed relief that the protagonist of Milkman had thrown off her stalker gave a long, convoluted definition of "abuse" that hit a lot of contemporary leftist talking points. Nothing he said was incorrect, and I didn't disagree with him, but I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. It is well-known that this guy is, by his own repeated admission, "really into leftist politics" and that he seems to use these as a front to say inappropriate things to his female classmates.

That night, some of us from the department go to some clubs downtown. I am reminded of the club scenes in Milkman, which feature poisonings and attempted shootings, and which were some of my favourites in the book. As we are talking, the name of the wannabe-leftist comes up. He said something weird to one of our friends--no surprise there. We talk about how we're glad we'll be rid of him soon. I guess we forgot about the presence of our one-year-younger acquaintance, who will be staying on behind with him after we graduate (wannabe-leftist is older than us, but has been lingering in our department for years and years). I notice that younger acquaintance doesn't look quite well, and against my better judgement, I ask what's wrong.

"Remember when we were reading Milkman, and I told you that I was stalked?"

It takes us a moment, but we all gasp. We knew he made us uncomfortable, but we didn't realize it was as bad as this. Younger acquaintance tells us about how she didn't have the words to describe what was happening to her. How being polite didn't work. How she finds it hard not to be polite. How eventually he "got the message." How she felt mean delivering it. We swear that we'll have her back--that we'll all have each other's backs--from now on.

I think of how much has changed since the 1970s, and how much hasn't. Men like this are the same, no matter what political climate they're in. Encroachment is easier now. How different our lives are from a fictional eighteen-year-old's during the Troubles, and how similar.

#these last few weeks have been insane with work and preperations for end of term exams and events and graduations #but i have also been constantly ruminating on this. i have to get it out there.#perturbing experiences in my last weeks of university

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caffeinatedopossum · 2 years

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Sometimes I feel like there really is no way to win at hating/loving myself. Like the less I hate myself, the more I start to hate other people and I hate hating other people and it just makes me hate myself again.

Idk its like just being genuinely critical of someone else makes me feel like I'm being spiteful and hateful and need to take a good long look at myself. And I don't *want* my hatred of other people to be justified because if people really are as stupid and inconsiderate as I sometimes suspect they are, that's awful and I really can't do anything about that... but if I'M the one being stupid and inconsiderate, I can always reflect on and change that

Basically I think I'm biased. But so is everyone

#also by people i mean a very specific majority of people that i think of as Floaters #it seems like they sort of wander and dont question things. not because they are privileged and never need to #but because they do need to and dont know it #and its infinitely frustrating to observe as someone who has severe anxiety and ruminations #like i wish i could just give some people a healthy dose of my anxiety and thoughts so that we would both benefit #but thats presumptuous of me right? idk what other people are thinking. idk what theyve actually been through #and this is what i mean ^^#i doubt everything all of the time constantly and it never ever stops and i dont think this is normal #and i dont want it to be normal i just want things to be a little more evened out #not even that actually. i just want people to notice!#not motice me. notice themselves #it feels like the average level of self awareness is so low that i honestly dont know how people tolerate that absence #like what are you doing?? how are you living like that? where did you find that innate certainty and where can i get some #maybe this is just about jealousy #i feel like a lot of things are maybe abnormally difficult for me and id like to have the ease that i percieve other people havin #but also if it was offered to me i would never be able to accept it #hmm many thoughts today. many things to think about indeed

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blackbeardsemophase · 25 days

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#i have to get this out in the physical realm somewhere but i also don't want to talk to my friends or family about it but #i've been struggling in my relationship with my sexuality for the past few months and it hurts #i'm not sure i'm with the right person but the thought of that alone is scary to me #but i just feel like a huge part of my identity is missing and it makes me feel invisible #and i see all my queer friends being so validated and happy and themselves and i am so so happy for them but i feel like a ghost #now i feel like maybe i repressed myself without ever realizing it and that scares me too #I'm scared of going my whole life unfulfilled and feeling like i settled by making the wrong choice #i have never felt like i couldn't be myself but now it almost feels like i stifled myself unintentionally due to trauma and anxiety etc #i don't even know what to do so i just ruminate over this constantly now and feel awful and depressed #it's hard to even participate in my community the way i always have tried because i feel like i'm betraying myself or something #just bi/pan girly things i guess.....

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dagasinfilo · 9 months

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i do not think i can mentally handle having no income anymore but i do not think i can handle literally anything that’ll give me an income

#this is -not- a prompt for anyone to send me money while i appreciate it GREATLY and thank everyone who’s ever sent me money dearly #it’s just. the responsibility to Take Care Of Things weighs incredibly heavy and even though i know it’s not true i feel it’s all entirely #on my shoulders and it’s exhausting #i’m having to be mulling over and ruminating constantly on ways to Make Money and it’s FUCKING EXHAUSTING #the ever present feeling that i just can not and will not be able to exist at my own pace #it weighs me down too much #i’m trying to start making ashtrays out of clay. i’ve been having the thought in my head for a week now.#i have everything i need to start. why am i not making them. why does it feel so god damn exhausting.#and i know i’ll eventually start and i know i may even start selling well!#i also know the moment i start selling well i’ll get immediately burnt out and won’t be able to keep making the shit for months. again.#i hope my next psych listens to me

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eoieopda · 1 year

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can i request something about getting into an argument with bf jungkook ?

Sorry for the wait, love! I couldn’t decide how I wanted to approach this (silly vs serious, etc.) so now I’m just winging it! I hope this is okay??

cw: alcohol mention, couple fighting, repeated use of the word “fuck” and its derivatives, angst w/ fluffy ending.

also- I have no idea what the word count is but it feels excessive for a drabble?? lol sorry 🫠

You weren’t quick to anger. Truly, you weren’t. In fact, you were patient and forgiving - to a fault. When something didn’t go your way, or when someone said something upsetting, you took a deep breath and let it go. You didn’t hold grudges; didn’t dwell. You didn’t keep score. But this one stuck in your teeth, and it hurt.

He knew how important this was to you. He knew exactly how many times before you’d played it cool, let the disappointment go rather than let it fester. You constantly excused him for how busy he was, and you understood that there were just some things he couldn’t show up for. You didn’t hold it over his head that he couldn’t be as present as either of you wanted him to be.

So, when he cleared his schedule and promised you he’d be at your firm’s happy hour - joining you in celebrating your promotion - you were elated. Your associates could finally meet the man you’d been prattling on about for two years. They’d see the real-life version of the person in all your framed photos. And he’d get to know all the people you had to spend most of your waking hours with. But they didn’t; he didn’t.

Seething in your seat, you ruminated on the fact that this was his idea in the first place. He drove you to your office that morning. He wanted you to let loose after hours, and when the night was over, he wanted drive your tipsy ass home. But now, your tipsy ass was crying on a city bus because he couldn’t be bothered to keep his promise.

Your bitterness swept you up like a wave and carried you - from the bus stop, across two blocks, to your apartment - even after the heel of your left pump snapped on a particularly cracked patch of sidewalk. When you hobbled over the threshold into your foyer, it was bone-deep anger that kept you from bursting into tears; and too-high adrenaline that carried you on aching feet.

You tore up the hallway and hung a right into your bedroom. There, sleeping sideways on the bed with his trouser-clad legs dangling off the edge, was Jungkook. His tie - untied, more accurately - looped around his neck, underneath the chin nestled into his shoulder. He’d gotten ready and then - somehow - he never made it out the door.

For reasons you couldn’t articulate, this fact made it all worse. So close.

“Are you kidding?” You snapped, scaring him awake. His bleary eyes tried to focus on you, but you were bent in half, hopping on one foot as you tried to undo the ankle strap of your busted shoe.

His horrified eyes dropped from your mascara-stained face to that of his watch. Immediately, he muttered, “Fuck. Shit! Baby, I’m so s-“

Having successfully released your ankle from the death trap it was held hostage by, you whipped your heel against the ground. You stood on one stocking-covered foot to address the other pump. You cut him off - mid-sentence, at the knees.

“No, I am not your baby tonight. I am the girl who just made partner - who got stood up in front of the people who made her partner - who then had to wobble home alone!”

He was shocked by your tone, and frankly, so were you. He’d never seen you angry because you didn’t get angry. The two of you had never fought before, either. Trivial arguments, sure - but nothing a calm conversation couldn’t fix. Nothing like this.

He raised his hands, silently begging you not to shoot, “I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, okay? I am. I fucked up - and I know I fucked up - but I was up all night working so I could take the night off. I guess I was more tired than -“

“Then go back to sleep, Jungkook,” the look in your eyes was nuclear but your voice was eerily soft. You could’ve leveled Gyeonggi in its entirety when you tacked on, “On the couch.”

Without another word, he shot to his feet. Lips pursed and eyes wild, he stalked off out of the bedroom. You shucked off your blazer and threw yourself onto the bed - mattress still warm from the weight of his body. Face first in a pillow, your eyes screwed shut. You swallowed the frustrated scream you wanted so badly to let loose.

After several moments of tense silence, there was an elongated, muffled scraping sound, and then a tremendous clatter in the doorway. Your head snapped to determine the source of the noise.

With gritted teeth, there was Jungkook - pushing the chaise from your living room into your bedroom as if it weighed nothing at all. And he didn’t stop pushing until that stupid little sofa was crammed up against his side of the bed.

That bastard.

If you weren’t so mad at him, you might’ve conceded that this was impressive. Typical. Lovely, even - how insistent he was on sleeping next to you that he found a loophole in the most Jungkook way imaginable.

Ignoring your shocked expression, he slumped down onto the cushions, onto his back, and knotted his arms over his chest. Simultaneously, you rolled over; unintentionally mirroring his posture. Both glowering up at the ceiling, jaws clenched.

He sounded so angry when he said it, you almost missed what he said.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to find him doing the same. Expressions still set in stone, body language communicating one word - impasse. You said nothing; you didn’t know where to start.

“You deserve to be celebrated, and you sure as fuck don’t deserve any of what you got instead.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“And I swear to god, I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you.”

You swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than the end of this ugly evening. Weapons down, white flags up. His face softened when yours did.

“Baby,” you started slowly, watching a spark of hope ignite in the dark of his eyes.

Just as cautiously, he replied, “Yes?”

“Put the couch back,” you sniffed. After a pregnant pause, you finally finished, “And then come to bed.”

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cyb3rtarot · 7 months

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Pick a Pile: What's an Insecurity You Need to Confront?

Disclaimer: tarot readings are not replacements for professional advice! Take what resonates; don't force a reading to fit. Readings are based on current energy; your future's in your hands. For this reading I used a recolored Smith-Waite, the Osho Zen tarot, and the Oracle of the Radiant Sun.

pile 1⋆pile 2 pile 3⋆pile 4

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 1:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile one! You seem to have interests that aren’t very socially accepted. You could like things considered “nerdy, childish, cringe, or weird.” Some of you feel like you’re a frivolous or immature person. You may also feel this way about your friend group or job. There’s some sense of awkwardness, embarrassment, or shame about the things that fulfill you. This may be a career that others don’t take seriously—like the arts—or something really niche like being a clown. However, I see most of you still try to pursue what feels right despite others’ pressure.

Why do you feel this way?: I feel you’re wrapped up in how others perceive you. You may fear being shunned, ostracized, and alone. Some of you have already experienced that level of loneliness before, so you don’t want to be pushed out again. You could be or have been the friend who feels least important, like the one who gets pushed off a sidewalk while everyone else walks side by side. Many of you have social anxiety; you could feel like everyone is staring at you or get easily embarrassed.

Current method of dealing with this: you like to take your mind off your insecurities and emotions as fast as possible. When you feel judged, you change the topic really fast, like by making a joke. You might blurt out something you didn’t really mean to redirect attention, like making a joke at someone else’s expense. Your constant flight or fight pushes you towards impulsiveness, and flip-flopping between embarrassment and defensiveness. This could take a physical toll, like feeling very tired after socializing. A few people in this group could’ve been bullies to deflect from their own issues (though others of you were on the receiving end).

Advice for healing: reflecting on how projections create shame is beneficial. When we judge ourselves, we feel everyone else is judging us too. When others judge us unfairly, they’re projecting something from inside themselves outwards. We can stay trapped in a cycle of shame where everyone is unhappy, or accept that we deserve happiness in our harmless interests. By taking a different perspective of your fears instead of accepting them as the full story, you can leave thought patterns you no longer align with. For those who often say things they regret, there’s emphasis on thinking before you speak, and working through thoughts before projecting them outwards. A few of you are entering a new community that will be a great opportunity to work on this. If you were drawn to pile 2 I encourage you to check it out!

Extra details: a bench (especially green), staring, golf carts, driving, dancing, physically active, excitable/hyperactive, bubbly, theater kid, geeky, black hair, cringe culture, shy, fandoms, the comedian/funny friend, always smiling, secret/hidden life, bullying, travel/moving, leaving friends, feeling dumb, fake persona, panic, school friends, college, dorms, fairies (fairly odd parents?), Are We Friends or Not by Zeph

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 2 [TW abuse/childhood abuse]:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile two! You guys may feel insecure or struggle in what you want to do with your life. You may feel stuck in “analysis paralysis;” constantly ruminating over all the possibilities but never reaching a conclusion. If you compare yourselves to others, it might seem like you’re going very slow in life, a late bloomer, have no solid plan, or like you’re regressing. Some of you struggle with a heavy past, like major childhood trauma that contributes to your present feelings.

Why do you feel this way?: you have a lot of thoughts in your head that pull you every which way. You might have an inkling of what you want to do, but you get caught in the planning versus the doing. Some of you are stuck between choosing something lucrative or something more purposeful. There are also opinions from others that are confusing you. A few of you have imposter syndrome about a new opportunity, and another few are having problems at a job which is pushing them away.

Current method of dealing with this: this pile seems to deal with it by not dealing with it lol. You want to make the perfect choice so much that you either don’t make any decision or you turn away from what you like. The latter is specific to some of you that have already chosen a more material-focused path but still feel indecisive. However, I don’t feel like you guys are living in an illusion; you’re aware of your situation and the different aspects. You may enjoy the position you’re in despite the insecurity. For example, if you don’t have a job right now, you could enjoy the free schedule. You may like still being taken care of by your family and not having to work. Or, you could enjoy the potential of having many possibilities and not fully committing.

Advice for healing: you need to take a serious look at what you want out of life, what’s important to YOU and not society or others. This includes being more selective with the perceptions and advice you consider; you might also need to be more selective with who’s in your circle. Are there people in your energy who are only there for themselves? Are you maybe a bit too free with sharing your plans and ideas with just everyone? Find out who and what makes you feel fulfilled and empowered. If you also felt drawn to pile 1 I encourage you to look it over!

Extra details: looking for a job or between jobs, optimism, eagerness, vests, libraries, plants, round glasses/brown glasses, light brown hair (especially a bob), quiet or shy kid (some of you outgrew it), teacher’s assistant, childhood trauma or abuse, masculine or androgynous look, horror (the genre), drawing, pop music (some of you love ariana grande 🤨), drag, job opportunities, meditation, overthinking, inner demons, nickelodeon, moving, being busy, lack mindset

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 3 [TW mental illness, substance abuse]:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile threes! Is everything all right?? You guys have an indecisive energy like pile 2, but it feels philosophical instead of material. The insecurity is life itself. You could be having an existential crisis or existential anxiety. You don’t know your purpose or why you’re here, and this creates a stagnant but chaotic feeling inside. Some of you don’t want to be here. Another part of this “insecurity” is that you don’t share this struggle with most. Because others can’t comprehend what you’re going through, it’s isolating. This pile could be very disappointed with how society and survival works, and don’t want to put their energy into the broken system.

Why do you feel this way?: This group has pressure from themselves and others to be successful and “well-adjusted.” To achieve, move forward, and at least appear “normal.” There’s a great internal struggle happening and the pressure to keep up appearances adds to the stress. Mental health issues feel very significant for this pile. You may still conform to so-called normal life while feeling ready to snap.

Current method of dealing with this: most of this pile puts a lot of energy into keeping up the image. There’s a split self where the external you and internal you are living two different lives. You may like to hang out with friends a lot and focus on their lives instead of your own. Your friend group or the activities you do together seem to be filled with gossip, drama, or other excitement that distracts you from what’s going on. I also see a big struggle with overindulgence or addiction. There’s a sense of feeling out of it during the day and then coming alive at night; you might like to stay up or go out really late. Some of you also use partners to fill the void.

Advice for healing: there’s an extremely strong emphasis on removing yourself from people who no longer align with you. There could be a few people or places that always “enable” you to make choices you regret, or always bring drama and toxicity into your life. Specific people in this pile are in a romantic relationship that makes them feel very unhappy. The advice is to reflect on what takes peace from your life and what you can do to protect yourself from toxicity. If you use relationships to never face yourself, you can re-evaluate the energy you put into them. Some time has to be spent with the self to see what the self wants and needs (if you’re drawn to meditation it can be helpful). I highly encourage everyone who wants or needs them to see what mental health services are accessible to you, and to explore potential healthy coping mechanisms.

Extra details: impatient, may like to sing, vocal stim, or rap, goofy, “IT’S FAKE!”(?), a facade/mask, hiding feelings, uses humor to cope or avoid a topic, trap house, memes, spiritual, viewing life as sacred, anti-capitalism, immigrant family, questioning orientation, substance abuse, painting, bathrooms, the middle of nowhere, courage the cowardly dog, pop music, karaoke, bars and clubs, I think we ALL sing, housing insecurity, the characters Mabel or Sarah Lynn could be significant

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 4:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile four! This is an insecurity about being vulnerable as your true self due to the oppressive environment around you. It feels like you carry many responsibilities. You’re expected to act strong, carry out duties, maintain tradition, and in most ways you’ve done this. On the inside you reject this way of life, but also feel fear in fully living out that rejection. This pile may deem themselves as weak, immature, or sinful. I also feel many of you want to be taken care of or protected instead of always having to be the carer and protector, and this could contribute to feeling weak.

Why do you feel this way?: living as your true self may mean becoming the black sheep wherever you are. You may be afraid that the fallout will push you into an unfavorable situation, such as having to leave where you currently are. You might’ve already seen it happen to others. I feel many of you have had to live in a mature role or take care of responsibilities since childhood, and this adds an extra layer as to why it’s so hard to break free.

Current method of dealing with this: I feel like you guys are doing the best with what you have! A good amount of this pile has left or is leaving their hurtful environment, and you’re moving into new communities that align with you. For others, this may just be an internal change. Either way, I feel you’re refusing to be bullied into agreeing with things you don’t believe in. One way or another, you’re going to find a way to rebel how you can and live the way you want. It’s just been hard to reflect on ingrained beliefs and sometimes you catch yourself falling back on ideas you don’t mesh with anymore. But great efforts have been made towards the path you want to be on.

Advice for healing: be open to a completely new journey you would’ve never imagined before! There’s already a lot of energy directed towards the life you envision for yourself. You’re encouraged to be open-minded and allow yourself continuous evolution. There’s an emphasis on giving your inner child a lot of grace and space to heal, even if your first impulse is to judge them. Just as others shouldn’t keep you in their box, don’t keep yourself in your own box either! You may have had to develop certain traits to help you leave old, toxic situations, such as having a hard exterior or going ham during your rebellious phase. Keep what still feels good and let go of the rest; embody what you need and want to be in the present and not the past. But, there’s no need to shame other versions of yourself that had different personalities and beliefs; compassion for past selves leads to compassion for the present and future selves :]!

Extra details [TW abuse mention]: teeter-tottering/off-balance, scooby & shaggy, religious trauma, conservative community, church, childhood trauma, abusive relationships, regretting parenthood, religious deconstruction/leaving, becoming more spiritual, new religious beliefs, Buddhism, moving, financial struggle, single parent, hesitating, sea/sea animals, parties or gatherings, moving/travel across the ocean, writing/journaling, nature, herbalism, plant-induced spiritual experiences, acupuncture, purple

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

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wildemaven · 1 year

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Sweet Creature: Chapter One

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (In future chapters)

WC: 4070

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warning: 18+ Blog; brief description of drug use, rehabilitation/mentions of rehab stay, getting treatment for drug addiction, absent parents, anxiety, sister giving ultimatum, apologetic Dieter, determined to turn life around, cursing, if I’ve missed anything feel free to let me know.

A/N: Firstly, big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me drone on about this! And for also being a champ and beta’ing for me too!!

This chapter has some heavy elements to it, and I hope it comes across as a serious tone considering the topic of drug usage. I wanted Dieter to be deliberate in his attempt to better himself. There might be some reference to this characters contents in the future, but this will be the only one containing any actual drugs. There’s a lot of information packed into this chapter to help get the story going. I’ve been so blown away by the responses to this series and I really hope I do it justice! Any questions/comments/or you just want to chat more about this chapter, my ask box is always open!! xx

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

A few sharp knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hello?? Is someone in there?”

No response.

The slightest twist of the knob. Unlocked. Unoccupied.

Only the opening of the door reveals quite the opposite. Occupied.

“Oh! I’m so so sor— Oh my god! Are you fucking serious right now?! You’re getting high at a 6 year old’s birthday party!”

No response. Just a deadpan look of nothingness from the body propped up next to the toilet.

“I fucking knew it. I knew you would fucking let her down!! God!!! You’re such a fucking deadbeat, washed up douchebag— so fucking ridiculous.”

“W-whyy a-rrre y-youuu yellllling? Shhhhh!” His speech laden with a hint of sarcasm.

“You’re a fucking joke! I can’t believe you would do this to your sister!”

“What are you yelling about in here?? Wren is getting ready to open her presents and wants everyone to watch her. Dieter why are you on the flo— are you fucking high?”

“Ag-ainnn shhhhhhh!” His pointer finger emphatically raised to his lips, the noise too much for his dazed mind.

“You promised me Dieter! You fucking promised me no drugs! I should have known better, I should have fucking known you’d do this— you don’t care about how much this hurts me to see you like this, constantly letting me down. I’m done Dieter, I’m so fucking done trying to help you if you’re not going to help yourself. Fuck! Get the fuck out! Go! Now!! I don’t want you near us, I won’t put Wren through this. Get help or stay away!”

The door slams, Dieter left alone to ruminate over what was said in the small tiled space.

Even in his stupefied state, the words thrown at him were enough to make an immediate impact. The cognitive part of his brain working over time to push through and make a levelheaded thought.

“Deadbeat”

“Washed up”

“Get help or Stay away”

Reaching for his phone, he dials his lifeline who drops everything for him, probably due to her reoccurring paycheck, his assistant whom he’s thankful doesn’t hate him enough to ignore his call out of the blue.

“Heeeey! I n-neeeed y-you to c-ommme g-get meee…”

He knew this was it, he had to get his shit together or suffer the consequences.

He feels different if he’s being honest with himself.

Lighter.

Healthier.

Alive.

365 days clean. He made a commitment to a year long stay at a drug rehabilitation center, followed by a 3 month residency in a sober living facility conveniently tucked away in the Hollywood hills.

Yet, he feels more lost than he was before he started treatment.

He can’t remember what living a normal, healthy life is like— a life not high out of his mind 24/7.

This wasn’t his first time trying to get clean, he’d become a regular of sorts at a few different rehab centers scattered through out the greater Los Angeles area.

Each stay with the same goal and each one a failed attempt at getting control over his life without the drugs.

It was never “hope this is the time it really clicks for him”, it was always a question of “how long will he go this time before he’s kicked out and checking into the next one”— might have even been a headline a time or two.

Many centers refusing to even consider treating him based on his past reputation alone.

His agent’s patience was wearing thin trying to book roles for Dieter, doing his best to convince directors he wasn’t a liability and he could get the job done with zero risk in hiring him— it was far from the truth.

Each day on set became a game of Russian Roulette, no one really knowing which side of Dieter they would be dealing with while shooting. That in itself was a metaphorical high he chased with each role he booked, seeing how long before some one caught on to his slurred words, blood shot eyes and sluggish demeanor.

On numerous occasions Dieter thought he was skillful in his ability to mask his inebriated ego. He was combative with the crew and fellow actors— his temperament calm and mellow one moment, then seething and dripping with rage the next.

He was getting sloppy. The teetering domino of his life had slowly began to tip and once it did finally fall, his entire life crumbling around him.

The traffic is heavier than expected. Dieter wonders if it’s due to others similarly seeking to leave the city in hopes for a break from the dim aura that Los Angeles is. He can feel the weight of the city’s reputation lift from his shoulders with each passing mile as he maneuvers through the stretch of freeway congestion.

A few honking horns bring his attention back to the conversation he’s currently semi engaged in.

“This is a big step Dieter. I’m really proud of how far you’ve come.”

He instantly cringes at the thought of getting back out to sell himself for roles. Facing those who were- and are- tired of his shit.

The downfall of his career began when he was late for dress rehearsal for a role he some how managed to get— this role having potential to get him in the running for award nominations, propelling his career to new heights. But when he was no where to be found at call time, his assistant went on the search for him and it’s where she found him passed out in his trailer. He was too far gone to even pull himself together, prompting the director to fire him on the spot.

The rate of speed at which news travels in Hollywood is the equivalent to a fast moving wildfire— once that first bit of gossip hits the ground, it’s spreading through the industry with a sudden surge of ferocity and growing far beyond what is predictable.

His agent's attempt at damage control was a wasted effort. Directors dumping Dieter’s preproduction roles, actors refusing to work with him and threatening to quit if Dieter stayed on— his list of films beginning to dwindle in a matter of days and by the end of the week, Dieter Bravo was jobless.

“The next few months will go by quickly, and before you know it you’ll be back out here booking jobs and proving everyone wrong.”

Vanessa, Dieter’s assistant and full time babysitter, always seemed to have a way to make him feel at ease. And at this point, the only person he knew who believed he could actually turn his life around.

“I really fucking hope so.” He sighs, this was his attempt at thinking positive.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Her voice cracking through the car speakers as he continues his drive north on the 101.

“Briefly. Told her I’d probably be getting in around 6 or so— BEEP!— Watch out asshole!” Throwing a middle finger at said asshole driver who nearly missed clipping his car.

“She’s proud of you too, ya know. Might not seem like it right now, but she is.”

“Hmm. I’ll just agree to disagree with you on that point. Having a drug addict—“

“Former drug addicted, Dieter.”

“Right— well, having a deadbeat for an older brother doesn’t really leave a lot to be proud of.”

“You’d be surprised. Hey, I got another call coming in. I’ll be in touch with you soon! Call me if you need anything! Again, Dieter, I'm really proud of you!”

“Thanks Nessa! I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ending abruptly, leaving him to sit alone in his thoughts for the next hour and a half—something he hasn’t really taken the chance to experience since, well, a long while.

The Santa Monica Mountains provide a scenic view as he leaves behind the place he saw as his home for the last 20 years.

His current destination plugged into his stupidly expensive sports car.

Home. Where he grew up.

He can’t even remember the last time he visited. Not due to the years as an actor taking him to all areas of the world. The last time he had been home was just over a year ago and he was high out of his mind, barely remembering the trip as a whole.

His sister had asked if he’d be able to make it to his niece’s birthday. She was turning 6 and had been begging for her uncle to be there to celebrate with— he was easily her most favorite person. The specifics of the getting to his sister’s home and the actual party are pretty blurry for Dieter.

Dieter spent most of the last year trying to produce a coherent flashback of the day that would ultimately be his last time using, the reason for his commitment to getting his life together.

He never expected the lowest point in his life would be being caught in the bathroom of his sister’s home doing a few quick lines on the toilet seat, as his niece was blowing out 6 candles a few feet outside the tiny bathroom surrounded by friends and family.

The moments following are a mixture of hazy clips, fragmented bits of information,

he’s tried to piece together to the best of his ability.

The rush of someone bursting through the bathroom door, the echoes of laughter and music piercing his ears as he’s hunched on the floor against the wall, little specks of a white powdery residue dusting his mustache.

There’s screaming as he does his best to focus his blurry attention on the distorted enraged figure in front of him, yelling something about being washed up— his eye lids heavy and fighting against them to keep them opened.

If he had to recall the exact moment he knew he fucked up, it was seeing the hurt and disappointment on his sister's face— her face wet with tears as she poured out her disappointment and pain over the fact that he was strung-out at her daughter’s birthday party. The weight of his consequences bleeding through him as he vividly recalls his sister telling him to leave and not come back unless he was sober.

The next day he checked himself in, determined to get his life together for good.

He shakes away the subtle tinge of guilt that starts to bubble up in his chest.

Remembering the ‘54321 Method’ he was taught in treatment to help ground himself when his thoughts start to become overwhelming…

5 things you see: the sun slowly making its way to the horizon, cars moving swiftly by his own, Live Oak trees rooted among the mountains, the slightest twinkling of the first few stars, his reflection in the rear view mirror— lighter, healthier, alive.

4 things things to touch: the leather of the steering wheel, his jeans fabric soft and comfortable, the cool metal of his rings adorning his fingers, the weight of his sobriety chip in his pocket a constant reminder of how far he’s come.

3 things you hear: the familiar beat of a popular song streaming through the car speakers, rhythmic tapping of his thumbs in tune with the song, his off-key voice as he sings along to the words he knows.

2 things you smell: his olfactory nerve triggered at the distinct scent of his woody amber cologne, that new car smell that still lingers throughout the car’s interior.

1 thing you taste: a minty tingle on his tongue as he chews his last piece of gum.

His nerves settle, his eyes focused on the road ahead, deciding he’ll right his wrongs when he gets to his stop— his sister’s house.

The trip took longer than he’d originally planned. Weekend traffic to blame for the 2 hour delay in his arrival.

‘Welcome to Ojai’— the stone sign greets him, dim uplighting barely making it readable as he turns on to the familiar street.

The town is all but empty at this time of the night, street lights plus the few restaurants and bars that are open give off enough ambient light to drape the streets in a subtle glow.

He’s instantly taken back to his childhood, so many memories tucked away throughout the picturesque landscape.

Growing up with famous parents wasn’t all that glamorous in Dieter’s eyes.

Dieter’s parents, Dean and Mary Bravo, were both well known in the tv and movie world.

Dean had been known for his roles in James Bond-esque action films through his career, notably his best work among other smaller productions he worked on. Mary was the queen of daytime television with her numerous roles in soap opera’s biggest shows, a socialite getting invited to glamorous events and elite celebrity parties.

Together they were Hollywood’s “It” couple, jet-setting to all parts of the world when schedules allowed for it.

Dieter and his younger sister, while born into this movie star family, were raised far from it. Dean and Mary deciding to buy a home in the mountains outside of the headlines and prying eyes, a place where their kids could live a some what normal life.

Normal was anything but normal. Dean and Mary didn’t let children hold back their lives and desires of more fame. Leaving them with nannies so they could keep up with the demands of working and living their best lives.

Ojai, a small village-like town nestled in the valley of the Topanga Mountains, became a literal playground for Dieter growing up.

Little reminders of his childhood still remain as he ventures further into town. He finds himself slowing the car a bit as he takes it all in, rolling the window down to let the evening air hit his face— it’s crisp as it trickles across his skin.

The private school he attended all through his schooling years sits on top of a hill that over looks the valley. The school’s reputation was highly regarded and offered a plethora of academic courses and electives. Dieter found the art and theater programs to be where he excelled most, painting and acting fueled his passion for the arts, propelling him into pursuing one as a full time career.

He spots Bart’s Books as he drives on, an outdoor bookstore, that had become a daily hangout as a kid. The red wooden shelves still filled with adventures and history to get lost in. He discovered his love for storytelling sitting on the covered patio, nose deep in fictional worlds he dreamed of visiting.

Across the way, a ‘no vacancy’ neon sign flickers on. Capri Hotel, a newly renovated hotel that still looks like it could have come straight from the 1960s with its mid-century design and modern style. He recalls the summer when him and his buddies regularly jumped the fence to swim in the pool, the cool water under the stars was refreshing during the California heat waves. They managed to only get caught once but worked out a barter with the then owners, they clean the pool and in turn can use the pool at their leisure. The hotel seems to be under new ownership now, but it seems to be doing well.

On every corner there’s an art gallery. Some still looking as if no time had passed, others adorn new names and a fresh coat of paint. Several galleries offered summer painting classes, where Dieter found he had more creative freedom than in school to explore all mediums and really honing in on his style. He’s always imagined he’d have his own showing of his paintings, friends and family gathering to see his work— a dream he never lived out.

His car parked and engine killed, he still hasn’t found the courage to get out. He can see a few lights on from the front windows of his sister’s quaint Spanish style home. Trying to not let the vague memories of his last visit deter him from going inside. He sends Vanessa a text, letting her know he’d made it safely and that he’d text her if he needed anything.

Bags in tow, he makes his way to the front door. Nerves and emotions swirling around, reminding himself to breathe, letting go of the fear and expectations he’d had for this reunion.

He opts for knocking, assuming Wren would be sleeping at this hour.

The clicking of locks being turned, twisting of the door knob, the black wooden door swings open to the space that’s haunted him for the last year.

“Hey, Diem. Sorry I’m so—“ He starts to explain his lateness before he’s cut off.

“Dieter! Oh my god! I thought something happened to you! What the fuck?!” Her body launches at him, arms wrapping around him securely. He accepts the impromptu hug, dropping his bags to return the gesture.

“No, no I’m good. Traffic was a nightmare and by the time I thought to call, service was fucked. Sorry for making you worry.”

“You’re here and you’re safe— that’s all that matters.”

This greeting is going far better than he had expected, but he hasn’t made over the threshold, still plenty of time for Diem to drop the hammer on him.

“Come in! Let’s get you all settled in.” She ushers him in, closing the door and adjusting the locks again.

He takes the space in, noting not much has changed from what he can tell in the diffused lighting, but he feels warm and welcoming even for him.

“I got the spare room all cleaned and ready for you. New sheets on the bed and a few extra pillows just in case.” She seems skittish moving about the living room, picking up the few toys laying around the room and placing them back in their designated baskets. “If you want to sit, make yourself comfortable. You want anything to drink? Eat?”

She seems just as nervous as he is and that makes him feel less anxious for some reason.

“I grabbed some food on the way, I’m good.” Setting his bags down, he makes his way to the couch and sits down, deciding to rip the bandage off so to speak.

Diem taking his lead, sits on the opposite end of the couch, legs tucked under her and hands resting on her lap. A lull hangs over them for a few moments, neither really know what to say or do. He notices her fingers fidgeting and decides to break the silence.

“I know we haven’t talked much since the last time I was here,” He sees the brief wince on her face at the mention of it, as if she’d been actively trying to avoid talking about it. “But I want to tell you how sorry I am for—“

“Dieter, you don’t have to.”

“No, actually I do. And I’m going to. Not only because it’s part of my steps in recovery, but because you deserve it— Wren deserves it.”

“She doesn’t know— about the drugs or you going to rehab.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

“I won’t mention it to her then.”

“I just told her you were busy and that you’d be coming to spend time with us 'cause you missed her.”

“Why did you agree? After all the shit I’ve done and put you through, why are you letting me stay here?”

That gets her attention, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looks at him with nothing but love and forgiveness. “Because you’re my brother and I want you here, despite all the shit you put me through.”

He shifts closer to where she’s sitting, wiping the few tears that had decided to fall. He doesn’t think he deserves her kindness, but is grateful he has this opportunity to do what he’s been wanting to do.

“I’m sorry for the pain and hurt that I caused you. Not only at Wren’s party, but all the other times I’d said I was clean and wasn’t. For putting you both second to my addiction. I’m sorry for not being here when you needed me most. I promise I’m going to do my best to earn your trust and prove to you that I am committed to my sobriety.”

Leaning back, his hand digs into his pocket pulling out his proof, grabbing Diem’s hand and turns it over placing the chip in her palm. She looks at it then back at him, the most genuine smile graces her face before she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him in for a hug.

“I love you Dieter! Thank you for not only doing this for us, but for yourself as well. I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too Diem.”

Releasing Dieter from the hug, she adjusts herself back to her previous position, now more relaxed with her elbow resting on the back of the couch propping her head up as she looks at Dieter, really taking in how healthy he looks since she’d last seen him.

“Thank you for also letting me stay here. I needed to get out of the city for a bit, clear my head and shit. Should only be a few months or less, until I can get a few things lined up— have a few potential projects I requested scripts for.”

The thought of returning to his old ways terrified him, he had all the tools and support to continue working on himself outside of treatment, but he didn’t want to chance it. He instantly knew exactly where he wanted to spend the next few months re-acclimating back into this new way of living, away from temptation. Knowing their last conversation was anything but great, he'd decided an e-mail felt less grievous and hoped she’d find it in her heart to accept him back in her home again.

“Of course. Stay as long as you need to.”

“And I can help how ever you need me to, figured it would keep me busy doing stuff, help out with Wren.”

“Oh my gosh, please! It’s peak tourist season the next few weeks at the Hotel and I’ve got a handful of events we’re hosting too. School runs would be a big help for me.”

“Hotel?” He’s sure he heard her right but doesn’t remember any mention of a hotel that he can recall.

“Funny story actually-- I bought the Capri last year. Did some renovations and it’s been great really. Keeps me busy most of the time, but I love it.”

Diem was never one for the spotlight, especially with movie star family members, actively avoiding anything to do with Hollywood and its ostentatious air. She always had a knack for making drab things look enticing, so Dieter isn’t surprised one bit by the mention of her being the new owner of the Capri Hotel.

“And now that I’m the owner, you can swim for free— pool cleaning is encouraged too.” He laughs at that.

“Congrats on owning a hotel I guess. I’ll definitely be taking advantage of swimming privileges then.”

“Alright. I’m going to head to bed, got an early morning dropping Wren off before I meet with the planner for our next event.”

“I can take her tomorrow.”

“You sure? You don’t want to settle in a bit first?”

“Nah, it’ll be nice spending some time with her.”

“Okay. Prepare yourself for a wild time then.”

She kisses the top of his head before heading in the direction of her room. Stopping before turning down the hall, she looks back at Dieter who hasn’t moved from the couch, one of his hands rubbing at the opposite shoulder and leaning his head to the side to stretch it out a bit— the longer car rides really doing a number on him.

“Dieter—“

His head turns towards the direction of his name being called.

"Hmm?"

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #sweet creature series #Pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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letgomaggie · 5 days

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All my bridgerton thoughts, compressed:

1. The true love story is definitely Penelope and Eloise. No matter how hard they try, they cannot pivot away from the fact that friendship is the heart of this season. Be it between Penelope and Eloise, or Eloise and Cressida, or Penelope and Colin: it is that which drives this particular season.

2. To add to the above point: Colin may be Penelope's love interest, but it is Eloise who understands her. Eloise asks if Penelope seems despondent or sad - not just a simple is she okay but instead here are things she could be, which one is it? She knows her friend, no matter what. And Colin, for all that he is, does not find it all too startling that Penelope is suddenly looking for marriage. Eloise does. If Colin's eyes follow Pen across the ballroom, so do Eloise's.

3. Eloise has someone to talk to about the effect her friendship breakup is taking on her. Penelope has no one. I find Nicola to be an increasingly fantastic actor because she holds this tension so very well throughout the whole of Part 1. When Eloise comes to visit her, you see why she asked Colin what Penelope was feeling. Because Penelope is feeling that, has been feeling that ever since. Its so raw and on her face for the world to see but only one person ever looked and understood and read her like a book.

4. The two fingers while fixing her dress? Gag me god gag me

5. I have not seen the point of the Mondrich plot until this season which is where they are really using it to root the show to reality. There are conversations to be had that the society simply does not want to and Mondriches are the embodiment of it. Constantly knocking at society's door and making themselves be heard and fighting for a seat at the table but unwilling to compromise on what feels good and right. It's subtle and ita frustrating and I like that it's getting to people. You're going to get annoyed enough that the looking glass metaphor will play out in real life for you.

6. I see how unhinged Colin is being about Penelope and while I love that for her, I also get how fucked up her situation is rn. She does need stability. She has found her purpose. And I want her to be selfish in protecting that bit of herself. Instead of what she has been doing. She tried with Debling and yes, it was vexing to see how she ran after him but. I get it too? It's not always roses and camomiles. Cressida is the foil to this same narrative. The Bridgertons are foolishly romantic but that is just them. The show is through their lens but we can take a step back and see it for it is as well. I found Debling to be perfect and his reasons for ending everything were as well. If a little crassly done. Colin proposing to Penelope and falling headfirst in love just as she starts looking out for herself? My heart still needs to be sold on this idea, no matter how hot and sexy everything is.

7. The hair grab oh. Colin Bridgerton you slut. You whore. Colin Bridgerton would like to be pegged I promise. These two will actually be the couple who try out shit in the bedroom out of intrigue and discover a hidden kink. Colin finding the answer to his pent up ruminations when Penelope drags her hand tenderly through his hair vs Penelope close to tears because it is a dream come true and how many times has she imagined this and now its happening and its all that and more? Fucking yes

8. The diaries intrigue me. I shit you not I started this season with the firm belief that Colin had in fact NOT travelled lasts season because he was being all quiet about it. End of Ep 1 and I am now convinced he only really wants to talk if people listen and the only one who ever listened was Pen and if she's not there to hear him what is the point of speaking? He functions on 0 braincells because like. He has all the facts he's just not looking at them.

9. Someone talked of how they want to know more about Colin because he's been coming off as 2D and I agree. This is being told more from Penelope's view than Colin's and that is skewing the narrative a bit. I need more than 'pirate fashion-current rake-newly minted fuckboy' from him.

10. I like the yellow bedsheet.

11. The opening with the pining looks from Pen towards Eloise really set the mood and I'm so glad for it. For that matter I feel like Colin's apology for the comment last season was rushed and half hearted and I understand the hot and heavy vibes but they are friends first and that is the heart of the season and so much, so fucking much is left unresolved and I need them to have a couple of heated conversations PLEASE. express emotions fr!!! Beyond breathing hard!!

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #ya these are straight up unfiltered y'all i may have more thoughts coming soon

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talktolwt · 11 months

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I would like to focus on the music chosen for Hob Gadling's 80s sequence.

I'm extremely late to the world of The Sandman (finally binged it two weeks ago after my mother had been begging me to watch it with her and now I'm more obsessed than her) Bottom line: I'm unbelievably glad I finally watched this beautiful piece of television.

I have yet to read the comics but as for the first season, I have to say, without a doubt, my favorite episode is Chapter 6: The Sound of Her Wings. Death's 20-min segment is a beauty unto itself, but I'll be focusing on Hob's segment today. Specifically, his 80s scenes.

Considering I'm so late to this fandom and exploring all of its wondrous details and themes, excuse me if this has already been noted. I've been thinking about these details over and over but I need to get it out there in the Sandman world and hear everyone else's thoughts.

*Also excuse the terrible photos - Netflix doesn't let you screenshot and I was too lazy to get another app to let me bypass it. Please bear with my photos of my laptop screen.*

There are three songs that play throughout this sequence.

#1 - "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals

I accidentally deleted half my post mid-writing this but here I go again.

As we can see, after the breakup scene, we open up on Hob Gadling (he looks amazing in his 80s look, by the way) and this song plays.

Here are the lyrics:

I mean - where do I even start LMAO.

*Let me just give another note - regardless if you ship Dreamling romantically or not, I will be merely analyzing these lyrics as they are and how they convey Hob's feelings for Dream in general. But, I mean, the songs are THERE, the text is THERE. So do with that what you will.*

This will go for the following two songs as well, but these songs are placed with meaningful intention. Each of these offer a unique lens and dive into Hob's feelings.

I won't be annoying and over-explain anything, but the lyrics are clear I feel:

"She drives me crazy" - cough

"Things you do don't seem real" - in Hob's view, Dream literally is an enigma. Hob has no idea the capacities, the limits, and even the name of this being he meets every century.

"This waiting 'round's killing me" - well.

"Everything you say is lies" - now I wouldn't say particularly lies, but Dream does keep and omit things from Hob. Understandably, Hob would find himself in a confused limbo with Dream.

Here's the kicker:

"I won't make it on my own/No one likes to be alone." - HELLO. I mean, if this isn't the core message and pinnacle of Dream and Hob's lesson to immortality.

As Death mentions earlier in the episode, around 18:10, "Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend."

I feel I could go on forever and ever about the beauty of this episode and how well The Sound of Her Wings and Men of Good Fortune intertwine. They beautifully complement each other as stories lamenting the dichotomy of life and death, and the joys of humanity.

But essentially, Death reteaches Dream how beautiful humans can truly be, and in this pivotal moment, she says this zinger of a line. The camera was initially on Death but for THIS line, it cuts to Dream.

BECAUSE - poor Dream is definitely in need a friend.

Which is then shown to the audience by the 30-min long Hob Gadling sequence that ensues, and we see Dream's aversion to needing someone, to needing a friend.

But I digress - back to the song, and that one line about not wanting to be alone.

That is such a poignant line, because as much as Dream felt alone and needed company, so does Hob? An immortal, constantly seeing the death of others around him, his companions and family long gone, he needs someone.

Considering this 80s sequence ruminates so heavily on post-breakup feelings, Hob is missing Dream dearly. His constant in life.

I'm rambling too much, onto the next one!

#2 - "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz

Time skip to perhaps a few hours later, who knows. We see Hob still waiting for Dream, alone in the pub.

Hm.

Literally what else could I say. I'm being slapped in the face with pining and angst and longing.

Here are the lyrics:

Some noteworthy lyrics:

"So much for your promises/They died the day you let me go" - this breakup man

"Caught up in a web of lies" - another lie motif

"I thought it was you/Who would stand by my side" - the theme of Dream and Hob being constants in each other's lives

"Shattered dreams" - I could scream. The title of the song. SHATTERED. DREAMS. giggling rn.

"Woke up to reality" - I think that's a very interesting line toeing between the constant references of the Waking and the Dreaming

Basically, I've been noting these evident similarities within the songs to align themselves to Dream and Hob's situation, and it's clear that the director/writers chose these songs with intent of it paralleling Dreamling.

So that makes it even more insane when lines like "From this empty heart" are meant to parallel Hob. Like.

Okay, last song.

#3 - "Keep On Moving" by Soul II Soul

This song plays as the night progresses. It's late, it's clear Dream isn't showing up, and Hob is feeling pretty final about that, and perhaps he's accepted it at this point. Dream isn't coming.

So this is where he speaks to the bartender and that scene ensues.

Here are the lyrics:

The themes of time and clocks are super prevalent within this song, and again it's once more clear how heavily this reflects and represents Hob.

Noteworthy lyrics:

"Why do people choose to live their lives this way?" - I think this also uniquely touches on the general aspect of humanity and one's reason to live/love life. Dream battles with his confusion/slight disappointment for humanity at the beginning, as he asks Death, "Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" And then Hob helps Dream realize why there's so much to live for. (24:30)

"I know the time will come today/The time will come one day"

"Walking alone in my own way" - Again this idea of walking alone and needing company.

"You'll be in my life, my life always" - Dream and Hob being constants again.

This all goes to say - Hob cares. He cares for Dream.

And I just think that's very beautiful. The magnitude with which Dream's absence means to him and how much their friendship/companionship both means to each of them. I just think their connection is a beautiful thing that I love seeing and rewatching. Wonderfully, these songs give the audience even more layered insight into this connection.

This was super long, and I apologize if I went on some tangents. But I also just couldn't help it, The Sandman is so incredibly rich in its storytelling and its connections and dynamics that I had to write this all down. I also just very much appreciate the amount of care and detail that goes into every aspect of television, and needle drops such as these three songs are no exception.

Thank you for sticking with me through this! Can't wait for season 2!

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psalmsofpsychosis · 2 months

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"#Batman resists his own insanity so it spreads to e v e r y t h i n g around him"

You can't just say this and not elaborate in great detail. PLEASE elaborate oh my God. I do agree but I want to hear every single thought you have about this topic.

Btw, I'm the same Anon who asked -- or not really asked but more so talked -- about Batman and Joker's soulmate sort of bond.

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN WITH "COMBINING JOKER'S HEAD WITH BATMAN'S BODY"???????

I was thinking along the lines of the concept version and how they could never be satisfied like this, united in one body. What is the result of mixing chaos and order? What is the result of mixing the act of forgetting the past and fixating on it? What do you get through combining the ideology of making everything matter and taking all meaning away?

The result is that the pure concepts become stained and dull, pushed away from their original function, losing their purpose to oppose each other.

Becoming one entity is the act of becoming complete (concepts being stained) and losing the thing that made them them. Batman and Joker were never meant to unite in this way with overlapping voices, finishing each others thoughts and sentences and it SHOWS. I'm in love with their grotesque obsession with each other that borders on love and punishment. Their desire to win and conquer the other for good but never being able to because losing one side takes away the purpose of the other.

That's why I'm so, so, SO disappointed with how the Batman Who Laughs turned out. Where are my identity crises? Plural, because this could never be an one-and-done kind of deal. They became OneTM, inentionally or not, but BeforeTM, they were always wondering what it would be like. Batman could try to get closer to Joker's mental state but never fully experience it, same with Joker. But now they are OneTM and then what? Batman is just the Joker with Bruce's memories and face. I can't begin to describe how boring that is. That's like if DC made a "Deadpool kills the Marvel Universe" story only they used Joker instead of Deadpool.

Do you see my vision? Can you feel my pain? I wanted to psychoanalyse that asshole with my amateurish psychology knowledge but they only gave us a watered down Joker who makes other Batmen less interesting upon contact. WHERE ARE THE IDENTITY CRISES?? WHERE IS THE DIFFICULTY IN MAKING A DECISION?? WHERE ARE THE LENGTHY MONOLOGUES ARGUING BACK AND FORTH OR CONTRADICTING EACH OTHER ALL THE TIME??? The Batman Who Laughs is basically Two Face but without the wall seperating Harvey and Two Face. Joker!Batman should be unable to do anything or constantly switch between Bruce and Joker or save one life and then turn around and kill it. Like, where is the complexity? Why the hell is that guy only a murder machine?? That was neither Joker nor Batman's whole purpose??

Tell me all your thoughts, my friend, while I'm here spinning in circles and going insane. I'll never get out of this alive, you'll still find me ruminating on this on my deathbed.

I swear, if you give an absolute banger of an answer again, I'll come and start living in your walls.

Have a nice day!! :)

ANON LOVE OF MY LIFE, i'm shoveling all the insides of my walls out as we speak, you can move in by Wednesday morning—

Like, the way i felt every single word you said in my bones. You are so right, and there are a couple different points here and it's gonna get longer than usual so i'll separate each thought thread to avoid drowning in lé brain soup.

• Re: batman resisting his own insanity, i feel like i have simultaneously talked about this in 7986 different ways and haven't said anything about it at all 😂 possibly most of it has been discord ramblings. Long story short, the spine of his narrative to me is that he actively resists his own humanity and in extension of it, his evil. He wants to be good. But there's also immense psychological/emotional/physical price we pay whenever we make these kind of choices; whatever we disown and banish to our subconscious, we project out into the world and unto the people around us. The load you refuse to carry will be carried by the people around you, because at the end of the day /someone/ has to carry it, it doesn't just disappear into ether. So, in a way, for Batman to remain good, to remain a hero, someone else has to be bad. The extent in which Batman keeps his goodness "pure and untainted" dictates the horrors created around him— and particularly the creation of Joker. I say creation because the existence of Batman as a concept absolutely necessitates the existence of Joker. In a way Batman does create him, and it's true that with Batman gone Joker and half the evil in Gotham would be gone too, not because Batman is an evil presence— but precisely because he disowns his own evil.

And the thing is, in the specific context of Joker, it has become this almost loving, adoring symbiotic relationship; Joker has willingly shaped himself to fit the outline of an evil that Batman needs to defeat, he has become the sin that Batman can overcome so he can stay a saint. I actually have a draft on this that i never finished, a meta about how all the coloring choices in Joker's design eerily resemble the different color stages of a wound and the bruising after, how Batman almost feels like Jesus with Joker as his side wound, Joker being the price he pays and the pain he goes through for his martyrdom in order to stay pure, for his idealogy to have any form of meaning and significance, Joker being his very own holy suffering.

We fundamentally understand reality in form of contrasts, internal ones, external ones. As you very well pointed out, without an innate sense of contrast, we cease to have any form of coherent grasp on different concepts, and they start to sort of become noise, they become nothing. Would you truly understand what a day was and grasp it as a concept if it wasn't followed by a night? So like, what i'm saying is, people around Bruce/Batman become what he needs because they love him and they want to help him keep his narrative, the structure of his psyche intact. They help him stay 'him' by taking on the burden of what he doesn't want to be, he subconsciously shapes them in the image of what he needs to uphold his identity as a good person. This is why Alfred becomes Joker to save him, this is why Selina is the more socially acceptable pretty Joker that Bruce can actually marry and bring to his family, this is why Joker and Batman feel like they can never escape their narrative, their roles and their performance. It's the reason the moment Batman lurches to kill The Riddler in "the war of jokes and riddles", Joker stops his knife with his hand. It's their defined roles, and the greatest act of love that noone except Joker would show him. Joker says "I'm the sacrifice. I'm the evil, i'm the one who kills, i have made this choice so you can make yours. You're the good one. If you become evil, it renders both your efforts and my sacrifice meaningless, and i can not allow that to happen." And it's a truly fascinating dynamic really, for all that Joker has and hasn't done throughout the Batmanverse history, when it comes to Batman he's irredeemably selfless. Everything he does regarding Batman is to keep Batman's sense of goodness and heroism intact, and in this context he's more pure than him. Everyone around Batman wants him to kill, perhaps rightfully so, they mean well. But Joker says "i'll bear all the unbearable evil so you dont have to, and we both acutely understand that without my existence you mean nothing. I will be the monster so you dont have to." And honest to god there's a heartbreaking affection to this, something noone else will ever be willing or want to offer to Bruce, not to this extent.

in 'the war of jokes and riddles' Bruce tells Selina that "what separates him from utter evil is a hand on his knife. Joker's hand." like bro, he knows. In a deeply twisted and gutwrenching way Bruce knows that noone loves him the way Joker does.

• Re: combining Joker and Batman's heads and bodies, i was thinking.... two concepts maybe?? 👀 one is more like the Dullahan myth, in which Batman loses his head but he isn't carrying it, Joker steals it. And then Joker loses his head and Batman has to keep it and he's forced to use it. It'd be an insanely fun concept; the Dullahan myth can be interpreted as the idea of death of self by supposedly losing all that would make you human; your thoughts and memories and logic, etc. Except that you still have a heart, and a body, and they're not exactly cooperative. It'd be fun to have Joker's mind trying to tame Batman's heart and body, each fighting and singing their own song, same for Batman. A version of the myth has Dullahan carrying a human spine in one hand, and i mean, the possibilities are endless!

But also another concept would be: two frankenstein monsters lmaooo, same sense of discordent internal landscape, same sense of ideological tension and conflict, but also someone's gotta [tw mentions of gore] chop chop them and sew their body parts together, and that can be another interesting element added to their fucked up dynamic ✨️ it can also be Joker as Dr Frankensten and he sews parts of himself to Batman in order to save him!

• Re: Batman Who Laughs, oh girl (gn), i have nothing to add that you haven't already said more beautifully than me. There's so much emotional nuance and complex philosophy that could've gone into that concept, it's certainly one of the hardest Batman story variations to pull off, and weirdly enough, the people who dont directly aim for "Batman becomes Joker/Joker becomes Batman" stories often tell a better more intricate tale about that transformation than the people who straight up shoot for the concept. One of the things that always sends a chill down my spine is the ending of Batman: Europa, in which Joker is terrified and screaming as Batman laughs and lurches for him; that's the dynamic, that's the Batman who laughs, and the most unsettling part of it is that, Batman doesn't change. He doesn't have to. On a core level he is quite frankly a bit fucked up, it's not a stretch for Batman to be evil, and that's why his goodness is meaningful. Cue Nietsche's quote, "Of all evil I deem you capable: Therefore I want good from you. Verily, I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good because they had no claws." Batman is not a good guy entirely, and that makes his goodness a conscious choice with so much weight and worth and significance. I dont think a lot of DC people understand this.

With Batman Who Laughs, the name kinda sums up the take unfortunately; it's a superficial interpretation that falls flat on its own face because the writers couldn't be assed to explore how a chemical combination of Batman and Joker's narrative would unfold. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ as with any potent chemical reaction, the mixture is highly unstable and unpredictable, and that's the fucking fun of it. There's gotta be tension. I do think Batman and Joker can very well mix, i do think they can make a seamless fusion, but i dont trust any canon DC writers to handle the characterization well in a way that doesn't bore you out of your fucking mind. You gotta make a new person and you gotta capitalise on the core components both Batman and Joker share; their incessant sense of idealism, their need for purity, their volatile emotions and their aggression, their need to individuate from their context and deviate from the norm, take the third way out narrative wise, their philosophical and intellectual bend, their immense grief, their need to be oh so special and different 😂 they actually have a whole lot in common, this is why they're perfect enemies!

But yeah, writing that personality fusion is very hard because it's such an emotionally complex context and most DC writers have not felt a single emotion in the past 35 years aflhdtdhlf

Anyway yep i love your brain so SO much Anon, hope you have a wonderful day ❤️💕 and dont forget to tell me what ya think!!

#the way this ask had me scrambling through my desktop blog to find posts and then i realised that i dont like my desktop theme #so i overhauled the whole theme while i was writing this lmaooo #anyway yeah. goddd i need to finish that jesus/side wound meta one day.#it's a bit above my paygrade because i thought i'm pulling one single thread but turns out it was a whole 9 yard yarn pile #with three cats entangled in it #but the gist is more or less the same #but also ''what do you get through combining two idealogies of making everything matter and taking meaning from everything''#i need to gay lay down a bit. maybe die a little #i think they're not a single identity in this framework; they're cycles. you understand them as they continue each other #the way spring sprouts from the belly of winter; winter spreads from the spring's belly; they be like dat #anyway Anon you're out here working all my 2.5 braincells overtime godbless ❤️💕#Batman #Batman meta #Batjokes #Batjokes meta

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maltedghost · 2 years

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The Omori Fanbase and Misunderstanding of Psychosis

This is going to be more ranty than anything else, so I apologize for that. I think it’s important that I also clarify this is coming from my personal opinion, and not everyone thinks the same.

I may as well mention, I have gone through psychosis for two years and have dealt with long term mental illness my entire life; it’s an uphill battle, and it’s something that never truly goes away. Medication is needed to properly maintain the symptoms of psychosis, and I want that to be kept in mind while reading this.

Here we go

For a game that emphasizes how mental health can take hold of and deteriorate the psyche, I’m surprised/somewhat disgusted by how a majority of the omori fanbase characterizes Basil as an obsessive yandere who is nothing but clingy and all smiles.

I also think it’s important to remember that DW Basil is what Sunny/Omori wants him to be, the same way Sunny/Omori creates the rest of his friends to be ‘perfect’ (which is why he keeps killing DW Basil when he steps out of line from that ‘perfect’ and ‘delicate’ persona).

That being said…

The fanbase is able to separate the DW and RW versions of the characters, but for some reason, this is not the case with Basil. Basil is treated as being exactly the same in RW like he is in DW; clingy, obsessive, and childish (when in reality he is fearing for his life and avoiding everyone like the plague—especially Sunny).

But why is that? My only guess can be is that this is another case of people misunderstanding symptoms of psychotic episodes.

When someone is going through psychosis, reality becomes distorted. You are unable to think or act correctly. Every day is waking up in fear, paranoid that something is going to come get you. It becomes difficult to distinguish what is real and what is not real. You don’t trust anyone, and you have the feeling of constantly being watched. Every day is a waking nightmare, and every night is a battle to fall asleep. It’s impossible to run away from your delusions, and they follow you everywhere you go like some festering parasite that only grows stronger over time.

Basil’s mind has clearly deteriorated throughout those four years. It only makes sense his paranoia and delusions became worse over time, eventually evolving into full psychosis; auditory, visual, tactile hallucinations… its made explicitly clear in-game that Basil suffers from all of these.

As represented by Basil’s SOMETHING, he is quite literally being eaten alive by his guilt and paranoia.

Now, as for anyone who has dealt with psychotic breaks, you’ll know that pushing away those thoughts only make them worse. Which brings me to my next point:

Basil is not obsessed with Sunny. He quite literally has no choice but to think about him. I truly believe he tried pushing away any reminders of his trauma, and I imagine during his first year alone, he tried giving up on the idea that Sunny would be there with him so they could have each other’s backs. He most likely tried moving on and living life as normally as he could.

But that’s not how PTSD works.

Basil’s trauma, no matter how hard he tried to push it away, haunted him every day—thus, Sunny haunted him every day. Every day, Basil’s paranoia had been reminding him of what happened, who was there, and what was promised.

This is what leads him into his psychosis, and his haunted perception of Sunny.

When Basil finally sees Sunny for the first time after four years, he’s not happy. He’s more-so nervous than anything else.

Sunny is a reminder of his trauma, and it’s made clear Basil isn’t ready to face him given he never wants to join your party.

(Displaying disoriented speech)

When he finds out that Sunny came out after all these years just to leave again (he didn’t even hear it from Sunny), of course that would trigger a psychotic response; thus, Basil retreats into the bathroom and manically repeats the phrase that’s gotten him through those four horrid, lonely years.

(Repetition of words/rumination)

While hallucinating as Sunny seemingly enters the bathroom to comfort him after all these years, he’s left alone again to be consumed by his paranoia. This goes on for the remainder of the game; Basil actively avoiding the party and staying inside, believing there is no hope left for him or Sunny.

(Foreshadowing suicidal thoughts)

And then his grandma passes.

Something interesting is that every interaction with RW Basil always leads to a fear response from Basil. Even if the incident from four years ago is never brought up, it’s obvious it’s constantly on his mind (again, psychosis consumes your every waking thought).

(he immediately becomes paranoid around Sunny, talking about Mari, unprompted).

And then there’s Basil’s meltdown.

(Hostility)

Some more symptoms of psychosis is sometimes having to deal with bouts of aggressiveness, word repetition, restlessness, and of course, frenzied/incoherent speaking.

When these meltdowns happen, it often reveals innermost thoughts and/problems, but in a more panicked sort of way. With that said…

I believe Basil’s dialogue in this scene reveals how he truly feels about Sunny.

Taking on the responsibility of hiding a horrid truth, all by himself, for four years—the guilt, paranoia, hallucinations getting worse and worse—and then finding out that the only other person who knows about this horrible sin is about to leave you again; but this time, forever. It’s cruel, and I don’t blame Basil for feeling some type of resentment towards Sunny.

(Part of me views Sunny losing his eye as punishment for his sins, but that’s just me).

Conclusion

I guess what I wanted to get across was that I’m sick of seeing people mischaracterize yet another psychotic character as nothing but a creepy yandere. I find it insulting to those who have gone through either short or long term psychosis (including me), and any of those who may still be dealing with psychotic breaks. I really want to see the fanbase do better, especially when this is a game that can be seen as mental health awareness.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t horribly saddened by OMORI’s neutral endings. Seeing Basil commit suicide and succumb to his psychosis is scary, and it’s something so many people dealing with mental illness fear every day. It’s a reminder of what could have happened to me had I not gotten the support and help I needed (meds, friends, family).

Afterthoughts

I don’t think Basil hates Sunny. Does that mean They should continue being friends? Well, maybe; exposure response therapy is usually helpful for dealing with things like this, and if Basil were to continue avoiding Sunny like the plague I believe it would only make his mental health worse (also of course Basil shouldn’t have stabbed out Sunny’s eye but my boy was hallucinating throw him a bone).

In reality, I think Basil just wants things to go back to the way they were, just like everyone else does. It’s very clear given the context of the game that Sunny and Basil have a special bond (“a red string of fate”).

If anything, I believe Sunny is more obsessed with Basil than Basil is with him, but that’s a different post for the future.

…and don’t even get me started on how Sunny told the truth then left Basil to pick up the scraps and deal with the aftermath of his friends.

…and no, I still have no idea what is up with Basil getting the idea to hang Mari.

#omori #omori basil #omori sunny #omori analysis #omori spoilers

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