#i don't understand why they need to drag her on all the positive posts
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Hey! Because I have seen various, various, various takes on Ashton’s actions in ep77– both on twitter (whew) and on here— and I am loving all of the different perspectives on it, I was wondering what your opinion was on the take that Ashton may have manipulated Fearne in the conversation they both had right before absorbing the shard.
Personally, I feel like it may be a bit more complicated than that, but I still don’t know.
Hey!
I think this post I made sums it up. It's not. Ashton tells Fearne precisely what they intend to do. He then does it. Fearne has the opportunity to refuse this request, or to tell the rest of Bells Hells, and she chooses not to. Yes, he compliments her and tells her that he trusts her to do the right thing when most wouldn't. Laudna asks Imogen to kill her if Delilah takes over in virtually the same exact language earlier than episode, and I don't think that's manipulative either:
Laudna to Imogen: And if anything happens and I become her little puppet, I trust you to make the right choice. (Implication this is a request for a mercy killing in the context of Delilah and Laudna's lives being inseparable; is understood as such by Imogen as demonstrated from her response and her later scene in the temple)
Ashton to Fearne: Things are going to happen, and I trust you to help me make the right decision, and I hope you trust me to help make the right decision.
The fact one is being brought up and not the other really points out that the Twitter talks out their collective ass ten times more often than they do their collective mouth; and the fact that they cannot distinguish "put Fearne in a somewhat uncomfortable position" from manipulation really points out that touching grass is not enough; they need to develop meaningful relationships with a wide variety of people in the real world.
Going along with a friend's stupid-ass decision that they encouraged you to join in and immediately regretting it is not, in fact, manipulation; it's your friend at most being kind of a dick and you exercising your agency to make your own stupid-ass decisions. It would have been wiser and nicer of Ashton to ask the party who wanted to take the shard, sure, but Fearne actively agrees with them that they should get it, and Ashton is not really defined by wisdom and being nice, and also, the above would be way more boring.
I don't want to go into this because it's a massive out-of-scope rant not limited to this particular situation, and I'd like to drag my sleep schedule back into a reasonable place tonight, but I think a lot of the more rancid discourse, whatever it may be but especially about interpersonal relationships between characters, arises for the following reasons, and I have little patience for any of them.
Thinking the only way to be a Good Person is to use 2023-approved therapy speak (and, frankly, frequently 2023 Rando on Tiktok claiming expertise who is actually a freshman psych students with no friends and a D average approved "therapy speak")
Relatedly, an all-consuming fear of any conflict, fictional, real, or otherwise, and the accompanying lack of any conflict resolution skills; this is also why they think this is manipulative, because if Fearne said no, that would be Conflict which is bad so positioning someone where conflict might be required for them to express themselves must be evil.
The genuine belief that you can only understand someone if you get everything right on the first try; either you read their mind perfectly or you have failed and are probably a manipulator or abuser for potentially leading to misunderstandings which lead to conflict which, as we see from the above point, is evil.
A refusal to admit that sometimes people are merely 1. assholes or 2. stupid. I frequently talk about opinions I cannot stand, and I almost as frequently get questions about how this opinion is problematic, and the vast majority of the time? It's not. I think it says something quite worrying, actually, that people are more comfortable and even eager to assume that a stranger is hateful or bigoted rather than merely inconsiderate or not that bright. Ashton made a poorly informed decision and made Fearne party to it. It was dumb and it wasn't really nice. That's literally it.
Anyway here's the five geek social fallacies; I recommend reading any Twitter Take(TM) and deciding how many of them they are applying to the narrative, cast, and fandom. See if you can get a full house.
(also upon re-reading this I'm pretty brusque and I promise it's not directed at you; I just genuinely think that the majority of the Twitter fandom, and certainly the loudest voices thereof, are so stupid a Detect Thoughts spell on them would fail on the basis of intelligence alone and the fact that their takes gain traction baffles and infuriates me)
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Oh my god, finally! I've been wanting to post here for a few days.
I'm the author of that infamous fanfic. And I wanted to say, unrelated to Hazbin, that the documentary and Drake's story, coupled with his new music video "I Kinda Relate" is the most heartbreaking and empowering thing I've ever seen. I bawled my eyes out the entire day that I found it.
In the first 28 seconds, Drake heavily implies, but doesn't show, his abuse that he suffered at the hands of his rapist, Brian Peck (who also was penpals with none other than John Wayne Gacy.)
I wanted to do nothing but hug that poor little boy, and to hug the man he is now. I want to tell him that he's beautiful and strong and brave for coming out. Male CSA victims rarely ever do. Could you imagine telling Drake then or now, that he's a *loser*? Could you imagine going about his abuse the way Viv did with Husk and Angel? He literally made his own music video that was much more tactful and empowering than Loser Baby ever will be.
I also have dirt on Dan S and that whole fucking pedo ring (I know a LOT of people in this industry. I also helped take down an ACTUAL ZOO AND PEDOPHILE with a decent amount of power a few years back.) And for anyone still confused about Drake, the girl he messaged lied about her age and he never did anything physical with her. He still acknowledges he's fucked up (please watch his hour long interview and music video) but he's "bound to make it right".
I also just want to say, to a CERTAIN PERSON, that comparing the objectively fetishisized abuse (I'm a CSA victim and into noncon), to fucking SEX ED FOR CHILDREN, is the absolute most fucking garbage and vile take I've ever seen. Poison is NOT educational. It is fetish content for Viv and Raph and others like them. If survivors and fans can turn something objectively negative into something subjectively positive, all the power to them.
Again, into noncon and a CSA victim. I also don't want to see stans taking this and telling me I'm invalid for critiquing Viv and Raph (already dealt with that in my damn fic.) I have been raped/sexually assaulted/groomed/groped/strangled/pinned down/dragged around as a child and NO ONE is ever going to tell me I'm a hypocrite or that I'm wrong for my feelings on this issue. Especially when I also have friends and my own mother as SA and CSA victims as well.
Someone like myself, or like Drake Bell, do NOT need to see how explicitly horrid our abuse was/is to understand how bad it is. I personally had panic attacks watching the episode, and having the knowledge of Raph being an unapologetic rape fetishist, was all I needed to know that that entire episode was fetish content. It's basically an adaptation of Raph's Red Smoke comic. Nearly word for word too. I've written and consumed so many stories over the years to know exactly what's going in their heads.
You know how you actually help a victim? You have friends and family and a therapist help you get out of that situation. Husk "helping" Angel was not the way to go about it.
And I've seen fans argue whether or not Viv is a rape fetishist (she is), but if she wasn't, why is she so adamant on keeping an unapologetic rape fetishist on her staff? He's confirmed to be working on season 2 (God I'm gagging thinking about it) and why does she like so much art (no hate to the artists) of sexy, fetishisized, hot, and sad art of Valentino? If he's supposedly based off HER abusive experience, why does she coddle, woobify, and downplay and sexualize him so much??? I wouldn't base a rapist character or write a rapist character as a fucking "high school Mean girl".
I'm sorry this got so long, but fuck man... it's so fucking disgusting.
Anyways, please watch this. It's got more tact and heart than fucking Poison will ever have. Drake Bell, my heart goes out to you. CSA victim to CSA victim. I hope you get better and can heal. And that goes for all victims as well. 💜🫂 (You too, Chai.)
And Brian Peck, and any and all other rapists, can burn alive in a grease fire. Val included.
https://youtu.be/I5gh8rAVLkI?si=B2eny2U4GZRgDZ7t
https://youtu.be/nSzk-MsVKqA?si=6D4rEihu89Yom7YG
Well said as always, Anon, and thank you for this.
Also, definitely seconding Brian Peck burning up in a grease fire.
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thank you for saying that sometimes the gods are difficult! yes, the gods have our best interests at heart... but our parents had our best interests at heart when they were dragging us crying and screaming to the dentist or to get vaccines, you know? nice is different than good.
sincerely, someone whose god literally cracked their head open on a magical level in order to establish contact (i'm mostly fine now but the hospital coded me as a stroke patient and were shocked I hadn't had one)
(to be clear i don't regret having my head cracked open, i profoundly love my god and am amazed at both the depth of their caring for me and all the neat powers i got from having my brain crunched, but there's a lot of people who would be like "noooo it never happend! gods are always going to ask permission and never do something painful for your long-term good and if they do then you need to dump them like you're a woman asking about her boyfriend on r/AITA!" and those people annoy me)
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Hey, I read AITA every morning to get my blood pressure up. Have you tried AmITheDevil? It's far worse.
I'm even going to go as far as to say, the gods don't always have your best interest at heart. They have their own motives too.
This was a post I was thinking about making recently but didn't, but anyway:
Just because a god does something to you or wants to do something with you doesn't mean it's in your highest spiritual good, or whatever.
A lot of details changed in this upcoming anecdote, but basically I was recently talking to someone who said something along the lines of, "hey, this god wants to have [type] of relationship with me. What does that mean? What does that say about me as a person? Is this what I'm meant to do? The god knows best, right?"
And I was like man, I actually just think that the entire motivation behind this is that the god wants [type] of relationship for you. Why does it have to be in their highest good? Is it in your highest good to leave offerings for the gods, create for them lovely shrines, perform devotional acts?
Or do the gods just sometimes want things because they like them and want them?
I do not understand the premise behind, "every god knows me in an omnipotent fashion and will only ever interact with me in a way that supports my highest long-term spiritual wellness." It just seems to specific to always be true.
I also think that the gods more or less respect our decision to think about a situation and make our own choices, and this includes letting us do things that would be bad for us, because the gods often aren't our actual parents, you know? I mean they can fill that role, spiritually. But for all we call him "Witch Father" and "Goat Dad," the Man in Black is actually not a paternal father deity. (Talking about my thing here, not yours)
I will say that I do think a lot of negative feeling things that can happen with the gods can end up being very good, but I just don't think this is universally true.
Anyway.
If it makes you feel better, Anon, every single time I get a feather up my beak and make one of these "toxic positivity about the gods might be bad" posts, I get almost more engagement than any of my other posts,
and it's almost always, "holy shit, a lot of other people have challenging relationships with the gods, too."
So you are far from alone.
I hope your brain is feeling better :)
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No Hard Feelings- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch7
Note: this chapter was added as part of a major edit/extension of this fic which is why it's being posted now and out of order.
SUMMARY: You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. Funny how what we want and what we need are rarely in line. (Aged up Five because things get smutty...obviously.)
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five- Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve
Having stormed out of your apartment, Five's getting fifteen flavors of fucked up.
GIF by thisgameissonintendo
Chapter Seven: Scars
Now he knows why Lila’s been acting like more of a prick than usual lately. Since not murdering her is essential to maintaining his position as Santi's favorite uncle, he decides against doing his drinking at home. Instead, he sucks his final lime with his elbows on the bar before dropping the shot glass on the tray beside the other five. Tequila is an efficient delivery system, and the ritual of salt, tequila and then lime always appeals to him.
“Jesus, son. Another bad day?”
“What?” he snaps, head whipping in the direction of the voice like a bated dog on the brink of biting.
“Woah,” says the old man, one hand held up in surrender, “just saying hi. We talked in here a few weeks ago, remember? You bought me a drink. Just repaying the favor.”
As Five looks at him from under lowered brows, the guy places another tequila slammer in front of him.
“Oh,” Five says, recognizing him and nodding, “Thanks, but I’m not in the mood to socialize.”
The guy, clearly drunker than Five is, (and nowhere near as drunk as Five intends to get), seems to brush off the rebuff.
“Name’s Geoff. What’s eatin you…?” the question tapers off expectantly.
“Five”, he supplies, reluctantly.
“Like th-”
“Like the number, yes,” Five snaps, irritated by the predictability.
Geoff, undeterred by his obviously forbidding attitude, sits down next to him.
“Sure. Five. Is it still chick stuff and job stuff?”
Five chuckles darkly. Drunk as it was like six shots from a revolver, the tequila’s permeating his brain extremely quickly. He finds that Geoff isn’t as annoying as he might have initially expected.
“Just chick stuff now.”
Geoff makes a sympathetic noise as if he knows the situation of old.
“You in a fight with your girl?”
“No,” he says, “she’s not my girl. That’s kinda the point.”
Geoff looks his confusion and Five explains.
“I’m seeing her casually but she’s getting clingy.”
“Treating her mean to keep her keen, huh?”
“No.” Five said, raising his new glass briefly to Geoff before downing the shot. When he surfaces, wincing slightly, he says:
“She knows the deal. It’s casual or nothing, but she’s sticking her goddamn nose in my past.”
He’s becoming effusive, the liquid sounds in his words starting to drag and hand gestures becoming more pronounced than usual.
“What gives her the right to…to psychoanalyze me? To pathologize the only good thing I had- she has no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Sounds tough, son,” Geoff says, only understanding part of this, “she sounds like my ex-wife. Everything’s always ‘oh, you have a transactional understanding of relationships’, ‘you aren’t attuned to my emotional needs’ or some dumb shit like that.”
“Exactly!” Five says, pointing at Geoff, “she doesn’t know my goddamn shitass life. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t understand. All we had was each other for over forty years. You don’t just forget that.”
“Exactly!” Geoff repeats, not really listening, “my ex could never understand that I’m not a mind-reader.”
The two men talk over each other:
“-You don’t just throw it away because it wasn’t normal or whatever.” Five says, tipping the shot glass again in the hope of a final drop of tequila. “She was the fuckin’ love of my life. She saved me. She was there when nobody else was and I don’t regret a single minute of it. So fuck her.”
“...just expected me to magically know when the housework needed doing. Here’s the thing, Karen: I don’t know if you don’t tell me.”
“-she doesn’t get to judge us. She doesn’t get to call her a fuckdoll just because she wants me to be her emotional support animal. Dolores was twice the woman she is-”
“...and maybe,” Geoff rants, “if she’d put out now and again I might not have got all that credit-card debt spending money on cam girls.”
“Looking up at me with those goddamn puppy-dog eyes and she thinks she can…she thinks she can make that all go away? Like it never mattered?”
They both stop talking at the same time, both of them having caught up with some of the contents of what the other said. There’s a brief moment in which they look at each other, confused.
“Well…thanks for the shot,” Five said, not wanting to hear any more about Geoff’s cam-girl debt.
“No problem.” says Geoff, clearly deciding that the mental wherewithal to unpack how such a young man could have had a 40 year relationship with a sex doll is beyond him, “bye then.”
He decamps quickly, not looking back.
After the brief interruption, Five turns his attention back to the task at hand: getting fifteen flavors of fucked up.
“Hey- you,” he says to the bartender, “will you do me a double tequila and ginger ale?”
The bartender looks over at Five and the several empty shot glasses in front of him.
“I think you’ve had enough. Your ID says you’re over twenty-one, and that’s fine, but I’m not serving you any more.You’re gonna end up having your stomach pumped at this rate.”
Five tries to summon the wit needed to persuade the guy, but finds it’s missing after the sudden influx of alcohol to his brain.
“Ah…well fuck you.”
He blinks with surprising accuracy given the booze and emerges, swaying, behind the bartender. He grabs an opened bottle of scotch and gives him the finger before disappearing again.
Out on the street, he shivers in the sudden blast of chilly December air. Drinking out in the open isn’t exactly a problem for him: it’s where he’s done most of the drinking in his life. In the apocalypse, drinking alcohol was a rare godsend. It represented brief moments of respite: a break from obsessive reading, calculation and fight for survival. Alcohol even gave him sweet, dreamless sleep: something he learned to value above almost anything else.
And throughout it all, she’d been there. His angel, his saving grace: Dolores. She’d been there when he was thirty and sure he was going to die of an infection, she’d been there when he was forty-two and had the most severe of his nervous breakdowns. She’d been there through the good and the bad, and she’d borne it all with her Mona Lisa smile.
He takes off his tie and undoes a couple of shirt buttons as he walks, not knowing where he’s walking to.
He’d clung to her; a lifebuoy in stormy oceans In return, she’d kept him afloat. Their love was a deep-rooted thing and, in itself, terrifying. In his fractured, beleaguered brain, she spread and clung, filling the gulfs, digging into the sinew and creating new, if diseased, pathways. His love for her was so essential to his sanity, so entwined in the basest part of his brain, that there was a time he thought she could never be extracted, even if he wanted her to.
At random, he turned down a sidestreet and then down the sort of alleyway he envisioned Klaus inhabiting during the worst of his addiction With numb hands, he twisted the lid off the whisky and took a long swing, smacking his lips appreciatively.
He left her behind when he first got back because he felt himself come full circle: once again, he was a young boy in a strange world. He felt their lifetime together could end poetically...and she had always appreciated poetry. Leaving her behind in the department store had attractive symmetry: her back with her friends and him back with his family…but he’d anticipated visits. He hadn’t imagined skipping between timelines, encountering more apocalypses and ending up somewhere similar but entirely different, where that department store didn’t even exist.
He lowers the whisky bottle and slides down the wall, back leaned up against it and legs splayed in front of him.
Dolores didn’t even speak in his head anymore.
Before, when he was apart from her, he had a direct line to her consciousness. The part of his mind reserved for her could communicate easily with the rest of him. When they were together, he liked to talk to her out loud, but he didn’t really need to: they could have entire conversations without either of them needing to speak a word. She simply wasn’t there now: at some point in the last six years of contact with other people, she’d faded into nothing.
He raises the bottle to his lips, inhales the smoky, molasses smell and relishes in the precious oblivion it promises.
An improvised fuckdoll. A fuckdoll, you called her?
His teeth work furiously at his lower lip.
“Fucking bitch,” he murmurs, inbetween deep gulps of whisky.
“Please! S’still Thursday.”
You awake suddenly, eyes wide. It’s him. He’s outside in the hall, knocking loudly and insistently.
“Please….please,” he begs, “c’mon…it’s Thursday for like ten more minutes.”
Cautiously, you get to your feet, grabbing your robe from the back of your bedroom door, wrapping it tightly around yourself and creeping out into the hall. You can hear him moving around in the hall: his heavy movement sliding against your door.
“Please. I’m sorry. Pleeeaase.”
He doesn’t sound like himself.
Briefly, you consider just ignoring him. You could pretend you never heard him and wait for him to leave. You waver on the cusp of indecision.
Voice shaking, you call out, “Go away, Five.”
“Please…I won’t blink in but please… oh shit, I couldn’t blink in. But please, talk to m-” he cuts himself off with a dry heave.
Maybe it’s his increasing volume, maybe it’s the thought of what your neighbors will think, after this racket at ten to twelve, only for the whole hallway to smell of puke in the morning. Whatever it is, you open the door.
He all but falls through it, catching his balance at the last minute and stepping slightly back into the hallway, waiting to be formally admitted.
“m’sorry”
He looks entirely and absolutely awful.
“Can you shut the fuck up?” you hiss, sticking your head out and taking a furtive look down the hall.
He sways, following your gaze as if expecting to see onlookers gathered. If his hair was mussed before, now it’s a disaster; some sticks up at odd angles and yet more is plastered to his face. His tie, waistcoat and left shoe are gone. His shirt is untucked and unbuttoned to just above his nipples. His face, though still handsome, looks slack, his eyes unfocused. He holds a bottle of scotch by the neck with less than a finger’s width left in the bottom.
“Shit.” you mutter, under your breath.
He smells so strongly of the whisky that it hangs in a miasma around him.
“I need to pee,” he says, like a kid in school. You regard him for just one more moment before standing aside with an angry exhale, now just happy to get him off your doorstep. Better he be in here embarrassing himself than being out there embarrassing you.
“Thank you,” he says. He stops a second, facing you in the doorway. His eyes are bloodshot:
“Your eyes are a lot like hers, you know.”
You’re not sure what to do with this information.
“How much have you had to drink?” you ask, worried, as he crosses the threshold, “have you drunk that whole bottle?”
“Nah. It was only…only half…maybe three quarters full. I only had that and some tequila.”
His words blur together.
“How much tequila?”
He steps past you. At his first attempt he walks into the bathroom door frame, making it through on the rebound. You hear him urinate, muttering incoherently under his breath.
“How much tequila have you had?” you ask, raising your voice to follow him through the bathroom door.
“Only two shots…or maybe like, six?”
“In…” you check the time incredulously, “under two hours?”
“M’fine.” he says, sounding more his age than usual: every inch the gruff old man.
Rolling your eyes, you go as if to wait for him on the couch, but then you hear a crash, a short yell and more retching.
“Five?”
Yet more retching is the only response.
“Okay, I’m coming in.”
You push the door, still ajar, and find him kneeling with his head in the toilet bowl with vomit splattered on the cistern and toilet seat. He can barely draw breath in between bouts of vomiting. His whole body heaves with the force of the mostly-liquid mush surging out of him.
You hover, unsure what to do. Him vomiting is probably good, right? Listening to his pained groans is difficult. As much as he terrified you tonight, hearing him in real discomfort tugs at you. Your hand hovers for a moment as you consider laying it comfortingly between his shoulder blades, but something stops you.
When, at last, he subsides into watery gasps, you lean and flush the toilet.
“God…I’m so sorry.”
He falls back onto his heels. One hand still holds the bottle, standing upright on your bathroom floor. He looks up at you, chin caked in puke. The mixed smells of scotch, piss and bile are disgusting. You shake your head.
“Take off your clothes.”
He giggles drunkenly.
“This is hardly the time!”
“Shut up and get in the shower.”
He laughs again and stands up, swaying. You catch his bicep and steady him.
“Whoops” he says, steadying himself with difficulty, “thank you m’dear.”
He’s being ironic, but the use of this endearment makes you frown.
He manages his shirt and shoe alone, but needs to put a hand on your shoulder for balance to remove his trousers and underwear.
You turn on the shower for him and help him take the wobbly step over the side of your bathtub.
“Shampoo is next to you. Make sure you wash everything. You stink.”
“Yessirrr,” he slurs.
You draw the curtain and kick his clothes to one side. With a sigh, you turn to the cupboard beneath the sink and dig out your cleaning stuff: the heavy-duty antibacterial variety. You clean the floor and the toilet, trying not to puke yourself at the smell. As you work, you can hear Five stumbling in the shower.
What the fuck are you doing here? Here you are, cleaning the vomit of a man who screamed in your face today, someone who you had not-unreasonable worries could murder you if he chose. A man who trashed your apartment, who treated you like shit, who never even held you after he fucked and degraded you.
A small clatter and a whisper.
“Shit.”
He’s dropped the shampoo. Not wanting him to attempt to bend over, make his head spin and vomit again, you remove one of your latex gloves and lean over the bath to pass it to him.
“Th-nks.” he slurs, face and hair covered in suds.
He tries to take it off you, but his reactions are too shoddy, especially with the addition of soap on his hands, and he drops it again with an identical clatter.
“Shit,” he says, again, as if faced with an impenetrable problem.
“Just leave it.” you say, firmly, “you got plenty on you.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replies, sounding thankful that this insurmountable issue has been solved for him.
You finish up your cleaning and close the toilet lid, using it as a seat whilst you wait for him to finish in the shower. Once or twice, you’re sure you catch him sing-humming a couple of bars of Cher’s If I Could Turn Back Time. You certainly hadn't imagined any of this knelt on the floor with his gun to your head.
“You nearly there?” you ask, searching for a spare toothbrush.
“Yup.”
A few seconds later, the water shuts off and he opens the shower curtain. As he does so, he gives a small hand gesture as if to say ‘ta-da’. You can’t help but laugh at this with him standing there, looking so pathetic..
After getting him dried, his teeth cleaned and his underwear back on, you shepherd him into the living space and onto the couch. The water seems to have sobered him up slightly.
“I don’t deserve you.”
He tries to take your hand, but you avoid his touch, instead throwing the blanket over him.
“No, you don’t.”
He lies down. You put a full glass of water on the coffee table and a basin on the floor near his head, just in case. He looks up at you.
“She did…challenge me,” his eyes appeal, begging you to understand, “i-in the ways I could imagine.”
He takes a few sob-like breaths before continuing
“She kept me sane…more or less.”
You sit cross-legged in front of the couch.
“I know- I know how it sounds. But she was real. She made me...laugh. Y'know, take myself a little less seriously? She didn’t always agree with everything I said. She wasn’t some…Stepford wife.”
He turns his face into the couch cushion, his voice muffled now.
“She’d kill me if she knew what I did today.”
You wait. He’s not done and you can sense it.
“But the love was- is - real. The grief is real. I know what a shrink would say. I know that I projected my conscience onto an…an object. But I love her. I love her and I miss her every day. I felt like I could fuck you and not betray what we had, but I couldn’t hold another woman like I held her.”
You can’t help now but pity him. Your anger and resentment ebb away as you watch him, hiding his face in your couch. You know how much this cost him to say. For once he looks like the lost, lonely boy of so long ago.
“She sounds very special.”
“She was”
“And,” you hesitate, “I’m no shrink, but if she was ‘just’ part of you, then…isn’t that good?”
He can’t unpack this. Maybe it’s the drink, maybe not. You try to explain.
“She sounds sweet and loving and she stopped you going mad. And that…that’s all inside you . You and she did that together. You can’t lose her if she never fully left. It means you have all that love to share. The love you have for her and the love she had for you. If she was loving, then so are you.”
“You're getting a little ‘kumbaya’, don’t you think?” Then, as his characteristic cynicism fades, “Thanks.”
You stand up.
“I have work tomorrow. Sleep on your side just in case you puke again. I’d rather avoid having someone who looks like a teenager choking to death on my couch.”
“ ‘kay,” he mumbles, eyes already closing as he shifts, “she always said I drink too much.”
“She was right.”
Friday morning. You intend to let him sleep, but when you enter the living room he’s not there. The blanket is folded neatly on the couch, the bowl and water glass clean and drying on your draining board.
He’s cleaned up the glass from the vase and your destroyed TV is gone. In its place is a note:
New TV arrives tomorrow. Sorry again.
Masterpost
Alternatively, join me on A03. Here is a link to the whole series
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i'm going to ignore for a second how LO has shown that she's just as gender essentialist as any other terf, in both her own works of fiction as in reality, or that she has even defended a radical feminist that SWERF use as their foundation for their nonsense. those things do contribute to the why i call out LO as terf adjacent, but let's put them aside for a moment.
why do people call you a terf when you're a queerphobe or when you generally treat queer people as the enemy to take down?
because terfs are the one weaponizing queerphobia in a real world sense.
this picture was used as an illustrative example of "lesbian being pressured by trans woman to have sex", in this infamous articles from the BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-57853385 terfs are currently using queerphobia as another way to create division in the whole community. once they have managed to convince enough people that queer should be erased, who do you think is going to be next?
but not everyone is from the UK in the first place, which would be a moot point to make because do you think terfs care about that? they only see you legitimatizing their position that nobody ever should be called queer, that queer is a bad word to use, that the people who call themselves and their community queer are bad selfish people who want to force you into accepting their identity. it doesn't matter if you're from the US, Canada or any other place, they'll use that as further proof that they're right and that other people who also "force them" to accept their identity are equally as bad and should also be erased. take a guess as to who that could be refering to.
as a sidenote... do you really think the UK is the only place in earth with terfs? it's where they're the most prominent and have the most political power, that much is true, but terfs exist everywhere and sometimes they do get to have an impact if given the chance. why do you all think there has been an increasing number of anti trans law in usa? why do some states have outright banned drag performances?
let me be clear about this. not being queer is fine. don't wanting to be called queer is fine. correcting people who call you, you individually, the person, queer is totally valid. as long you respect the right of queer people to exist and understand our need to have our own queer community, because we'll always have that as human beings that we're, we can all coexist no problem.
but queerphobes like LO don't do that and it's disgusting to even pretend so. she has made post after post about how we, queer people, are self hating morons who are beneath her. she has told anons writing to her about how they should change the name of their identity. she has actually said that "people who reclaim queer should choke". she has made an entire video full of misinformation with the express purpose of convince people in general that they should never use queer, ever, and comparing the people who do with the most hateful horrible kind of people you can meet. i have a whole tag called "lily orchard is a queerphobe" because she has done this so frequently, so blatantly and so obviously that i'm actually baffled that she thinks she's foolling everyone by reducing her hatred for us as simply "don't liking to be called that word." anyone can visit that tag and see that it goes a lot harder than that.
i don't know OP, but if all they ever said was that they don't want to be associated with that word because of personal negative experience with it and never said anything about queer people as a group or as a community, then yes, it would be wrong to immediately call them a terf on that basis alone.
that's not the case of LO, as i argued above. she might not be exactly the same as a terf... but does she ever make their work a little easier by normalizing their ideas.
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SO I WROTE A SILLY SHORT STORY HEHE!!!! :3
OK SO UHHHH. REALLY NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS BUT I GOTTA WORK ON PUTTING STUFF I MAKE OUT THERE SO!!!!
I wrote this little short story for a class and it;s silly and I kinda like how it came out so I went "hmm why don't I post it!" it's about my silly ocs that I post about a lot :3. oh also it has illustrations! oh and disclaimer I'm not the greatest writer ever I just like to get silly with it. I have fun :D.
BUT UH anyway I'm proctrastingating now oops story time
Even the most mundane tasks are so different when you’re dead. Jinny knew this all too well. Sometimes it was convenient; no more need for doors when you can phase through walls! But other times, being dead was extremely lonely. Like when 99% of the human race can’t see (let alone understand) your ghostly form.
But Jinny would never in a million years admit she was “lonely”. How could she be lonely when she had such awesome living friends? Jinny thought about her best friends, Ophelia and Albert, a lot. The three of them were always acting on Jinny’s stupidest ideas and going on adventures. Or, more accurately, Jinny and Ophelia would act on an adventure and drag a begrudging Albert along.
The awesome friendship adventure plan today was to take Albert’s beloved bike to the largest hill they could find and ride down it without using the breaks. At all! When Jinny brought this idea up with her friends, Ophelia had enthusiastically volunteered to be the one on the bike. This was surprising, given how Ophelia had the courage and mind of a field mouse. Jinny figured she was trying to prove something to herself. She tended to do that sort of thing.
Jinny fidgeted with her hair in excitement. Sure she wasn’t actually the one riding the bike, it’d take her too much energy to not phase through the dang thing, but as long as Jinny’s friends were having fun, so was she!
After a walk through the winding streets of suburbia, the three friends arrived at a large hill. Jinny could see Ophelia tense up as they walked to the crest.
“What’s wrong?” Jinny asked, her voice startling Ophelia a bit.
“Uh, I’m fine.” Ophelia replied. “Just a bit nervous. Are you sure I can ride a bike down this hill without breaking my neck?”
“I’m sure whatever happens, it’ll turn out fine. And if you did break your neck, we could be ghost buddies! Pal-tergiests!” Jinny said. Her favorite coping strategy was bad death-related puns. Despite the eyeroll, Jinny could see Ophelia smile a little and relax her shoulders.
The helmet Ophelia was wearing (at Albert’s insistence) cast a shadow over her face, making it sorta hard to see her expressions, but that wasn’t the biggest issue. Jinny could read Ophelia very well— Which made sense, given that Jinny’d known Ophelia for pretty much her entire afterlife! They’d grown up together in the Underworld because of Ophelia’ unique kidnapped-by-demons-when-she-was-a-baby situation. Jinny and Ophelia had run away and come up to the living world for the first time recently. Ophelia’d been positively giddy with all the new creatures and plants they’d found. Before she could zone out even more, Jinny was pulled out of her thoughts by Albert’s reedy voice.
“I still think this seems like a horrible idea.” He said. Albert had a way of doubting Jinny’s plans, though she didn’t see why.
“Even if my impeccable idea ends badly, at least we got to see this view!” Jinny chimed.
The breeze had a tinge of Autumn sweetness to it. The steep hill they were on overlooked the small forest-surrounded town. Jinny could see tiny people and cars on the streets, all living their lives. The town reminded her of an ant colony, always moving and changing.
The Underworld wasn’t like that. Sure, it was full of activity, but ghosts or imps didn’t change in the same way actual living people did. The bustle up here felt… different.
Jinny shook her melancholy away and turned to Ophelia, who was climbing on the bike now.
“Are you ready?” Jinny asked, grinning. Ophelia nodded, her lips pursed together. On the count of three, Albert and Jinny pushed the bike with a heave! Ophelia bolted forward, letting out a squeak. Jinny watched as Ophelia barreled down the hill, the bike bouncing every which way.
“This was probably a terrible idea, huh?” Jinny said.
“Definitely.”
As if on cue, the bike crashed into a crag on the hill and Ophelia flew over the rock like a candy wrapper. Jinny yelped and sped down the hill after Albert.
Ophelia sat at the bottom of the hill, holding a scraped knee, tears rolling down her face. Jinny felt a pit of guilt form in her stomach. She floated next to Ophelia, asking her if she was okay. Ophelia shook her head and blubbered in the same manner as a sopping wet cat. Without speaking, Albert whipped a small first aid kit out of his backpack and started to put some sort of ointment on Ophelia’s nasty-looking cut.
How the heck is he prepared for everything? What does he keep in that backpack? Jinny thought. One time, Ophelia had needed something to dig with, and Albert offered an egg beater he’d had on hand. Not a hand shovel. An egg beater. It also seemed that Albert had a never-ending library of his favorite comics in his backpack. Jinny thought about Albert more than what was considered normal. Or completely platonic. But Jinny was getting lost in her thoughts again.
Ophelia was still sniffling when Albert pulled her to her feet. They were all in agreement that Ophelia should never get on a bike again. And that they should all go home.
That night, the house was still and quiet. Too still and quiet. The house felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for everyone to come back to life in the morning.
Jinny laid on the living room floor, turning the events of the day around in her head. Jinny hated silence. It unsettled her. The quiet drone of the tv— still on even though Ophelia was asleep on the couch— mingled with her self-deprecating thoughts.
I shouldn’t have even made Ophelia get on that stupid bike, Jinny thought. She got hurt because of me. Jinny’s thoughts continued to spiral like this until she realized she kept coming back to one thing: Ophelia bled when she scraped her knee. Jinny couldn’t do that.
Sure, it was trivial to mull over the fact that Jinny couldn’t bleed, being a ghost and all, but this fact just felt like yet another barrier between Jinny and her friends. Another piece of evidence that Jinny was only a paranormal puppet, pretending to be like everyone else. Jinny smiled as she came up with yet another immaculate idea.
I can make myself like them.
- - -
As soon as Jinny saw the morning light stream through the window, she popped up and started to poke Ophelia awake.
“Rise and shine!” Jinny said in a sing-songy, overly-peppy tone. Ophelia simply responded with a series of grumbles and rolled over. Jinny shrugged off Ophelia’s less-than-friendly greeting. “I’m gonna go out! Be back soon!”
Jinny had originally planned to bring her friends on her people watching/mimicking mission too; that was, until she realized they’d probably question why she was taking notes on everyone she saw. It’d be better for everyone if Jinny did this particular activity alone.
Jinny bounced out the front door, notepad in hand. She’d already planned out her entire day, from the places she’d go to the weather she’d expect (lacking the ability to sleep well will do that to you). The main place Jinny had planned to go to was the local park. She floated down the street in that direction, passing through the occasional person.
Jinny arrived at the playground as the sun was approaching its climax. The park was very nice today! The forest encircling the park had a rusty fall time hue. People chattered and wandered like absent-minded mice. Jinny found a bench under a shaded tree and sat. Her leg bounced up and down as she forced herself to focus on the people passing by.
She noticed a woman in a blue coat, leading an eager child to the swingset. She observed the way the sun’s rays bounced off of the fleshy faces surrounding her. She took note of how the people mingled with each other. How they all seemed to effortlessly fit together.
Jinny heard a mischievous laugh from behind her and whipped around. She saw a group of three older kids, plotting together.
“We can’t explore the forest now! My sister’s still watching!” The smallest of them squeaked.
“Oh c’mon! We won’t ever get a chance if we keep stalling! It’s not like she’s paying attention anyway.” The third child ignored the first two, simply reading a book off to the side.
These kids striked Jinny as eerily like her friends. She wished they were with her right now. As the group ran into the forest, Jinny felt inclined to follow. It wasn’t too creepy if she was looking out for them, right?
Jinny followed the kids through clearings and thickets, dandelions and thistles. The forest was teeming with life and sound. Birds sang disjointed songs, creatures skittered everywhere, and ferns swayed with the gentle breeze. Jinny knew the kids couldn’t see her, but she found herself occasionally hiding behind trees anyway. I guess I’m more tense than I thought. Every once in a while, Jinny smiled or giggled to herself when the kids would start bantering with each other.
Jinny found herself distracted by the canopy above her as she floated along. There wasn’t a sun in the Underworld (obviously), so Jinny was endlessly fascinated with how the sunlight danced through different things. Ophelia actually helped her notice this— Ophelia was always realizing little beautiful things around her.
Just as Jinny pulled her thoughts back to reality, she noticed that the quietest of the children was staring straight at her. Or, more accurately, through her.
“Have you guys been hearing that?” The small girl squeaked, turning around to face her friends. “That rustling sound behind us.”
Jinny looked down and realized she had walked right into the middle of a bush while she was lost in her thoughts. Of course the kids could hear her now!
“Now that you mention it, I’ve been hearing it too.” The adventurous one replied.
Jinny felt an alarm begin to blare in her head. It’d be extremely embarrassing if she was caught by 5th graders! And it’d be even more embarrassing if she had to admit she’d been taking notes on socialization from these 5th graders!
Jinny bolted away from the little adventurers. She knew she was causing a ruckus, but at this point she couldn’t care less.
- - -
Jinny phased through the front door, walking in on Ophelia and Albert playing a video game. Ophelia was losing repeatedly, as usual. Jinny felt the shame and embarrassment set in as she approached her friends. She’d definitely have to tell them what she’d been up to now. And Jinny hated talking about stupid sappy emotions!
Albert greeted Jinny as Ophelia threw down her controller in frustration.
“What the heck have you been up to all day?” He asked with a chuckle. Jinny’s face got uncomfortably warm. With a sigh, she plopped herself down between her friends. No way she could get out of explaining herself now.
“I… I was observing living people because I thought I could be more like you guys.” Jinny fiddled with her fingers. “I know it’s stupid and it wouldn’t work anyway but-”
“What? Why would you do that?” Ophelia asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
“I dunno!”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out so blunt. I was just wondering why you’d do something like that when you’re so awesome already!” Ophelia continued. Jinny further shrinked into herself with the praise.
“I, for one, think being a ghost is cool and sick and tubular.” Albert said. “Tubular” was an… odd choice of words. But the meaning came across the same.
Jinny smiled a little. Now she just felt silly for worrying so much before. Jinny felt love swell up inside her and pulled her friends in for a hug. She thought back on the experiences she’d had with her pals: watching ice cream drip onto the sidewalk, laughing through badly made rom coms, attempting to befriend stray cats. Jinny realized how warm she felt right now. Not temperature wise (Jinny wasn’t even sure she could feel temperature), but warm in an emotional way.
Jinny had been too wrapped up in mimicry and expectations to realize who she was. But she knew when she found herself, her friends would be waiting with open arms and unending warmth.
YIPEE YAHOO THATS IT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THAT A LIL BIT :3 this is one of the first writing things I've finished in a hot minute so it's very close to my heart!!!! writing is so silly I wanna get better at it hehe
#squirrel scrawls#<- writing tag in case I post my writing more :3#be nice to me please I am a snivelling pathetic forest creature with an anxiety disorder#ocs#Jinny#Albert#Ophelia#tombmates
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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾To Rest☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
A/n: so I made this for @lynn-w3st about our ocs being besties, I did change some stuff about mk11 (Takeda is 20, liu kang and my oc who are twins are 23 in the old timeline and stayed that age. This is set in mk1 not mk11 but katsuo does talk about it with riko and who she was in a relationship with)
Sorry Lynn if I didn't write riko right I tried 😭
Link: this shows what katsuo looks like but with white hair and red eyes :)
CW: slight (a lie) shit taking about kuai Liang bc of evilbihans post lmao, happy to slight angst (it's about love and miss chances of confessions of love), katsuo trying to get riko to confess
Summary: katsuo is having a relaxing day but it's incredibly lonely so what's better then grabbing your archivist best friend who never rests a much deserved break and talk about love
No ones pov
As katsuo walks through the dense forest, finally coming out to the edge of the fire temple. She sighs, lonely as everyone is busy doing there own thing. She then has a bright idea, why not go and snag her brothers assistant, her best friend. She then makes a B line to the grand library, running up the stairs and opening the door. Katsuo then walks around the library looking for riko before calling out to her
"RIKO! YOU IN HERE?" katsuo yells out, even though knowing she'll be scolded for yelling
"What did I say about yelling in here, katsuo" riko said annoyed, a hand on her hip.
"Haha sorry..." Katsuo said sweatdropping, "I wanted to ask you if you like to come and relax with me?"
"You know I have work to do right?" Riko said with a 'really' look
"Oh come on, all you do is work and you need rest! So let's go!" Katsuo said grabbing rikos hand and running out of the library, dragging riko along with her
⛩️Time skip⛩️
Soon katsuo stops running, stopping at a magnificent sight riko holds a shocked face.
Katsuo had found this old ruin of a long forgotten kingdom, hidden away from everything. She knew riko would love something like this, so thus she took her here. Katsuo then pulls riko along to the thrown room that is decorated with fairy lights, plush couches and pillows. Then she sees the Japanese style table full of foods, snacks and drinks of all sorts.
(It's cleaned up and has all the above)
"W-wow, how did you find this place and do all this?" Riko asks as she looks at katsuo, who in return smiles lightly before explaining.
"You know I tend to wonder when board and I happen to have found this place, cleaned it up and made it a hangout."
"Come let's eat and then we can explore." Katsuo said happily
They both walk over and sit down and start eating the food katsuo made, then katsuo asked her a question
"Sooooo have you asked out Tomas out yet?" Katsuo ask tilting her head
Riko spits out the drink she was sipping, coughing hard.
"Wh-what kind of question is that!?" She said still coughing lightly
"Well I see how you look at him and I see how he looks at you Koko" katsuo said with soft voice of gentle encouragement
"And how would you know that he loves me? Last I heard you don't know anything about love" riko says the last part bluntly
"Haha, I did like some one from my old timeline, it was kuai Liang who was devoted and disciplined but this new kuai Liang is arrogant and his fire if fueled by anger and hate, what happens when you lose that anger and hate for happiness and understanding? Your fire will cease to exist, fire should be fueled by positive emotions. I then fell inlove with Takeda takahashi who was kenshis son, a troubled but kind man that I loved very much" katsuo said tone of her voice shifting frequently from happy to disgust and disdain to a infatuated tone.
Riko sits and listens to katsuo quietly, looking and observing her. Noticing sadness in her eyes hidden by the loving but somber gaze
"I want you to confess and make memories with him, something may happen in the future riko, you will regret and reminisce of what could have been. Don't make the mistake of keeping your feelings a secret. The future is not guaranteed" katsuo says looking softly at her
"I'll try and do it katsuo, I'll do my best" riko says determined but a little scared of the possible rejection
"And that's all I could ever want, is for you to try and know you did, then live with the guilt that you never did" katsuo says understandingly
And so katsuo and riko spend hours on how riko confess her feeling to Tomas, laughing about old memories and exploring the old ruins that were once the kingdom of love
-------------------------------------------------
Welp that's it! I hoped you enjoyed my little fic I made, it's been a long time since I've wrote so sorry if it's horrible lol
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But Do I Look Like Your Mommy? Ryujin x Idol Reader
MASTERLISTS
What happens when you go to a Itzy concert and the camera catches you saying something that got your and Itzy fandom wild.
M/1 and M/2 and means member 1 and member 2, you're in a three member group. M/1 is maknae and M/2 is the leader you're the fotg
Warnings: Swearing, I have never been to a concert so i'm sorry if i get stuff wrong ,bad grammar, Pretty short i think
Genre: angst to fluff
You and your group were sitting and waving to midzys as you guys waited for the concert to start you guys started waving your light ring around. After a bit the concert started as they were singing their newest album Cheshire which your group started dancing a bit, after that boys like you started playing and you were so excited you practically jumped out of your seat
"'Cause you're crying like a baby, but do I look like your mommy?" As so as Ryujin sang that line you shouted
' YES MOMMY RYUJIN!' Your members pulled you down to your seat.
'WHAT THE HELL Y/N YOUR GAY IS SHOWING TO MUCH!' M/1 whispered yelled.
'Yeah you need to calm down what if someone hears you' M/2 worryingly assumed .
'Don't worry no one could hear me it's super loud here.'You reassured them.
Later that night you were in your dorm room scrolling on tik tok when you see your name trending on twitter.
"(group name) Y/N confessing to Ryujin?" showing a video of earlier that day of you saying ' YES MOMMY RYUJIN!' As you went to see what the comments had to say, half positive and half negative
"Yasssss Y/N join the club!🥳"
"Why in the world would Y/N do that Ryujin is literally 21 and Y/N is like (age) that is just gross.🤬"
"Mommy Ryujin x Y/N kinda see it tho.😍"
"If I was Ryujin I would be so disgusted🤮."
You were in shock you swear you didn't see any cameras.What would Ryujin think would she be disgusted in you.You were in deep thought until M/1 barged into your room dragging M/2
'Y/N you done fucked up.' M/1 stated
'Hey! don't say that, Y/N are you okay?'M/2 questioned
'What if she hates me for that,what if i get kicked out of the group, what if (fandom) hates me to.' You said on the verge of tears.The other members knew you liked Ryujin for a long time.
'Don't worry i talked to the manger and they say that you can make a vlive to clear it up and if She and (fandom) hate you which is not likely fuck them there not your real friends we are.' M/2 declared
'Yeah fuck'em we are together threw thick and thin.'M/1 agreed
'Thanks guys you're the best.' You said while hugging them.
'Well you better get that vlive started bye.'As they left.You went to your desk and started the vlive and people were bombarding you with questions about it.
'So I'm guessing you all know about the mommy thing I am really sorry if I hurt anyone but I was just trying to let loose and have some fun. I hope you understand.'You tried your best not to cry.You made the vlive a Q and A. You ended the live.
Your group just performed and now watching Twice performance,You were looking for water but bumped into the one and only Ryujin.
'Oh i'm sorry I wasn't looking at where I was going' you apologized
'it's fine I was actually looking for you.'Ryujin smiled
'Um why may I ask' You mouthed
'Look Y/N I liked you for a while and I was wondering if you would like to go on a date?' Ryujin revealed
'YES I mean yes' You stuttered
'Okay can i get your phone so i can put my number in it' Ryujin asked
'Sure!' You responded and gave her your phone. She put her number and put her contact name and gave you back the phone.
'Bye Y/N' Ryujin gave you a kiss on the cheek and left.You were stunned but smiled and looked down at your phone and what you saw almost made you faint.
New contact: Mommy 😘.
(AHHHH I finally finished my first fic i' m so tired but i still need to do my other fic the new maknae hoped you liked it,I'm probably going to cringe my self when i read this when i post it anywayzz Byeeeeeeeeee)
#itzy cheshire#itzy midzy#jyp itzy#ryujin#itzy yuna#lia itzy#x reader#kpop#chaeryeong#shin ryujin#yeji aesthetic#itzy ryujin#itzy imagines#my first post
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Wow, I'm such a b****. Rereading that last post, and it's almost like I'm on the brink of emotional cheating? Slandering my ally, my best friend, mother of my daughter? And for what exactly? Because she was having a rough day and didn't give me enough attention on my birthday? I mean I know I'm just here trying to put my emotions into words and it's anonymous, but all that I wrote last time is out there on the internet. And it is disrespectful to my wife and the integrity of our relationship. No, I need to correct it. To anybody who reads my posts and happens to have read the last one, about me crying like a little b**** about how I'm "giving", and the good guy, and all needy and self-absorbed and craving attention on my birthday, you have to know the other side of the story. I need to put the next part of that story out, and own up to how wrong and petty I was last time! Obviously, this one is going to be about some self reflection I guess and making things right. So please bear with me!
A big part of being a good parent is to understand and accept when you are wrong, unlearn those things and try and learn a new better way of doing that thing. Like, one example, my therapist addresses her SO as "partner" . It was new to me, and I immediately assumed she maybe had a non-straight (hope that's PC) relationship/marriage and that's why addressed her SO as "partner". Then, she talked about her kids, I thought, maybe she is actually in a straight marriage with kids! Now, that's interesting to my curious mind! English is not my first language, so I usually tend to address my SO as "wife", that's not the only reason though, is it? I grew up in a traditional family with a culturally patriarchal social system. So, there was this system of hierarchy or authority at home, an unwritten corporate ladder in a way. The father/husband/man-of-the-house was number one, the guy on top who makes the final call, who has the power to veto any other decision. Then there's the mother/wife/equally-responsible-for-proper-functioning-of-house-but-still-for-some-reason-number-2. I suddenly started thinking that, the word wife represents this outdated idea and family structure ... like it has a certain tone? or paints a certain picture in your mind? And I haven't even started talking about same sex marriages - husband and wife? Felt wrong on many levels! But "partner"? Yep that sounds perfect and complete and inclusive if you ask me. My wife/partner has an equal/a huge role to play in the proper functioning of our house, my daughter sees that, I want her to see that I see that, we need to acknowledge and appreciate it. Yes, she's my partner. We are 50-50 in everything.
Now with that out of the way, about my birthday, Tumblr gave me a nice gift on that day! Or rather the person who commented on my previous post! I am new to Tumblr and I don't know if I can tag you or something, but the person who commented on my previous post? If you're reading this one and have had the patience to read until here (lol) THANK YOU! Just knowing that someone out there actually read my long posts? AND connected and related with it, commented positive responses on it? I swear you brought a tear to my eye! Looks like I'm not absolutely alone in these day to day struggles?
Anyway back to the story, I slept after making that post, the next morning, I literally opened my eyes to my partner standing there with a big smile on her face wishing me "happy birthday". Yep, I was so happy, delighted even - but I just said thanks with a small smile and walked away, why? Obviously, the man-child in me had to throw a tantrum, and my bipolar a** had to escalate and drag the situation more than it was supposed to, right? Inevitable, no?
She went downstairs without a word, I went in for my regular read-stuff-on-phone-on-the-pot-for-40-minutes routine, and read the comments on my post. I took away quite a few things from just those few simple words, kind stranger.
you are right, about the giving and reciprocating thing being a personality trait, 100% agreed. I just made that woman joke to try and keep things light, I guess? I have been watching Bill Burr lately, maybe that influenced my humor a little, lol? Jokes aside, I agree with you, because I myself am not a very emotionally expressive person. Maybe my untreated illnesses or just being busy in the grind for making a better life and career, I guess I never properly paid attention to learning emotional regulation, healthy coping mechanisms, etc. I'm not that giving myself either - it takes me a lot to trust someone and be vulnerable with them. One week I'm all giving and all touchy and the next I'll not utter a word. But all that is changing - a combination of getting a proper diagnosis to understand my own behavior patterns, good medication, a good therapist and generally just a new perspective to life after becoming a parent, has grounded me and I'm trying to become more emotionally stable, cope better, manage expectations. With all that being said, I think I have to emphasize how kind of a person my partner is, how giving she is and how receptive she is. Yes, I was down and sad that she was distant, but it's the circumstances and not the person. There are a lot of factors for her to behave the way she did. Don't forget, she's the mother of a really hyperactive 2 year old who has serious strangers anxiety right now and is clingy to her mother all the time, until she sleeps! And over that, household chores, a high stress job, a man-child husband acting like a fool. Moreover, it's not my information to share, so to put it vaguely, her family has suffered a major trauma this year, so she still had some knowing bag days from that incident. And that kind of justifies her trying to be there for her sister. And it's not like she completely ignored my thing either. So, I guess it's ok for her to be checked out sometimes? This is on me - I knew all these facts and circumstances, but I was not consciously aware of them. That or/and me being a little self absorbed and excited in my own head about my birthday.
And yes, capitalism+job is a factor! But guess who she is working hard for? Our family. I know for a fact, that she wasn't sitting there working at 9PM after putting a 2 year old to sleep, regular household chores, because she wanted to. I wouldn't want her to quit or lose her job, I mean if she wanted to willingly quit, yes. Her income is important for us to provide the best possible future for our child. Hell I'm not even ashamed to admit, that her job, and in turn a consequence of capitalism and wealth is giving me a good life! We have both lived with literally bare necessities when we first moved to this country. We worked hard and have been tremendously lucky to be living with relative financial privilege now. She has worked really hard and deserves to be in this position, this career and she has every right to put in as much effort as she wanted and I should be supporting her, and I will! And again, selfishly admitting, her job is helping us live a better quality of life, and I like it and appreciate it.
Wow drifted away again, coming back to my birthday. After all the potty introspection and enlightenment I headed downstairs, and found her sitting on the sofa silently crying and trying to sort herself out as soon as she realized I was going to walk in. But I saw her. It broke my heart, always does. I walked over to her, and tried to console her. Over she was calm, I tried to express what I was feeling, again thanks to my therapist, I was able to have a really civil and calm conversation, express what affected me, listen, like really listen to what she had to say, her feelings and emotions, and we resolved our differences. Before therapy and medication, this was one of those situations which could easily blow up into a full blown argument or fight and me getting angry, oof! Toxic.. Untreated mental illnesses are hell, but with the right help and support and understanding people around (who love you unconditionally and support your, even though they are directly or indirectly constantly affected by the illness), everybody has a chance to live the ideal life they want to.
I asked her, if we should still go out? I mean should we just stay in and relax or something? Cool down? She said she had been planning for this day for weeks, so we got ready to leave. She asked me if she could get a hug, and I just felt like we should hold off until the end of the day - please don't misunderstand me. I wasn't being petty or mean or anything, I wanted that hug so badly. But all my instincts told me we should wait. She understood. Then we went out on this amazing drive, with beautiful scenes and sunlight and ocean breeze.. Then this hidden gem of a restaurant in the middle of nowhere, with beautiful waterfront views, just special. On our way back the moment arrived which just called for a hug, and that's it felt well earned, valuable and precious. Trying to put that feeling into words is impossible so I'm just going to leave it at that.
Obviously, paapu missed out on this, even though it was our date, lovers private time, we still felt guilty. So we took her out for dinner as well, and I just had such an amazing day. Nothing flashy or fancy, no parties, no surprises, no expensive gifts. Just valuable time with my girls. Especially the big one, we needed that, we both needed that.
So what is this post really about? Am I too emotionally fragile? Am I too immature for a 33 year old father of a 2 year old? Am I bad SO? Do I trip too much about unnecessary stuff? Am I a bad person for bad mouthing my soul mate? The only person in the world who knows me? My confidante? Or is all this just bipolar disorder? Or is all just normal? We have struggled a lot to be together, struggled a lot to stay together, because of both internal and external factors. We had to pass through so many storms, we have stuck with each other, out of choice - no matter what. To the point that our interdependence has become scary even, and then without any regard for all of that, I made an angry post about some silly birthday of mine. We are still going to have disagreements, and fights even, but try not to make her cry and cut down a little on narcissism? Anyway, to anybody who's reading this, what's your takeaway? Do you feel like punching me, or sympathizing or disappointed or just feel like "this guy is just having another normal day"?
What else? Obviously, I have to talk about the other girl - that little lump of joy? It's becoming a mean little girl. She's mean, dude! Toddlers are so mean. She has started to revolt now, freaking small person! How the hell are they so emotionally intelligent yet so utterly helpless? In case it's not already clear from my last few posts, I'm the parent who says no much more, so nowadays, whenever I say a stern no, she literally looks in my eyes and does that action - like wtaf! Like, she was taking out tissues from a box, I said take out just one please? She took out one. Then she reached in to get another one out, I called out and politely said "no! Didn't we agree that we will take only one?". The little meanie, looked right in my eye, and while continuously staring into my eyes, blank expression on her face, she reached into the box and pulled out as many papers as would come out. TWICE! Everybody says parenting is hard, talk about sleepless nights, physical exhaustion, moral dilemmas. But nobody prepares you for the simple fact, that kids are proper a-holes to their parents. I sincerely apologize for saying it, but it's true. They just want to see your breaking point for every small thing. Terrible twos? Ya, just started for me, and the signs don't look encouraging, but onwards we go, learning as the challenges come. Managed it till here, we'll see whatever comes next! Until next time!
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Silenced Fire, Chapter 7: Kidnapped
Never got around to posting a WIP yesterday, so have a chapter instead 😅 (chapter masterlist here)
Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons
Forrest opened his eyes and was met with blackness. from what he could feel, his hands were bound behind his back and a burlap sack covered his head. Suddenly he heard a car door open and he was violently dragged out and, from what he could tell, into a building... of some sort. When the pair who were yanking him around came to a stop, one of them pulled the cover off his head. Forrest could see a dark room layed out before him, tables and chairs set up, not unlike at the station, and metal hooks lining a concrete wall at one end of the room "Well, aren't you a pretty one. Can see why the boss wanted you" a scruffy looking man explained, leaning down to inspect his face. The man smelled of smoke and bad booze, something Forrest was used to but in his current situation it was rather unsettling. Suddenly, what Forrest assumed was the boss appeared "Forrest Bondurant, haven't seen you in years" no this can't be, this can't be the man that broke into the Bondurant household all those years ago. "Well, look's like you're our guest of honor" the man exclaimed, "chain him up boys" he added. "Yes boss" the two men said in unison. They jerked Forrest to his feet and walked him towards the concrete wall at the back of the room. They threw him around roughly and chained his wrist bindings to one of several iron hooks embedded in the wall. "If you so much as utter one word, you get the whip. You understand me?" The second man, the blonde from before, explained. Forrest nodded, not daring to open his mouth. "Good" the man smiled, well it wasn't a pleasant smile but Forrest supposed it was a smile nonetheless. Once the two men had left him alone in the room, Forrest wondered, how long would it be before Howard and Jack found him? Wherever he was.
Three days, that's how long Jack and Howard had been searching for their missing brother "where could he be?" Howard exclaimed, pacing up and down. "I don't know.. but I'd bet money he didn't go willingly" Jack explained, from Forrest' desk chair. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with you" Howard said reluctantly. He had really hoped this wasn't the case, that one of his little brother's had been taken against his will. He felt like he felled Forrest, he wasn't around to protect him when he needed it "it's not you're fault Howard" Jack said as he rose from the chair, as if he'd read Howard's mind. "We're gonna find him, alright?" Jack explained, putting his hands on Howard's shoulders. "Alright" Howard sighed, doing something he hadn't done in years, he hugged Jack. Jack hugged him back, they missed Forrest, they missed what little he spoke, they missed everything about him. They pulled apart upon hearing the door to Forrest' office open, revealing Rose and Cricket "any sign of'em?" Jack asked, Rose shook her head sadly. "Damn" Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he leaned on his missing brother's desk. "Rose, I guess I'll tell you" Cricket spoke up. "Tell me what?" Rose asked. "Forrest likes you, he asked me what I thought he should do before he disappeared" Cricket explained. The room fell silent, no one knew what to say. Howard and Jack simply looked at each other, knowing they needed to find their brother sooner rather than later.
At this point, Forrest wasn't sure how much time had passed, he hadn't been moved from the wall he was chained to, except to relieve himself. Other than that, nothing. His body hurt from staying in the standing position for too long, he felt like crying but no tears came. Weird as it sounded, he wanted his brothers to hold him, as they had done before when he was upset. He felt safe when they did that but he wasn't sure when or if he would feel that safe again. Now granted, his captors hadn't really done anything to him, except sit in the room and watch him shift around uncomfortably. He wondered why that was, in this position they could've easily had their sick way with him several times over. Finally a single tear rolled down his cheek, he wanted his brothers. That was all he could think, he felt helpless in his current state. Rose, he hasn't thought about her until now and God it stings, Cricket and Howard were right, he did like her, but now he wasn't sure if he'd ever get to tell her. Suddenly, the scruffy looking man that had dragged him in here burst through the door, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
The man grumbled as he flopped himself into one of the chairs. it was like it was some kind of game to these people, some kind of entertainment to watch somebody suffer. The man downed some of his drink and continued to stare at Forrest in silence. Suddenly the man stood and walked towards Forrest "hungry?" The man questioned, Forrest could tell this man was drunk from a mile away. The guy tilted Forrest' head back and forced some of the liquor down his throat, Forrest grimaced, it wasn't even good whiskey, how could somebody drink that? "Oh, you don't like it" the man muttered, "well, too fucking bad" he exclaimed, pulling out a whip and cracking it over Forrest' shoulder, causing Forrest to exclaim in pain. After a few good crackings from the bull whip, the man pulled out a knife and started cutting into Forrest' arms. "You keep flinching like that and I'll snap you're neck" the man growled. Forrest bit his lip, trying his hardest not to move. Forrest never took orders from anyone but in this case he didn't feel like he had much of choice being at someone else's mercy, to see Rose again, to see his brothers again. Finally satisfied, the man put his knife away, leaving Forrest alone in the room again. Once he left, the tears came and didn't stop, Forrest could feel his blood trickling down his arms and dripping onto the floor. He sniffled, he's never wanted his brothers protection more than he did right now.
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𝔰𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢 - 𝔠. 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔞𝔯
follow up to traitor.
Warnings: this is trash, like trash trash so please dont judge. i just want to get it up hehe
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But I've been goin' through it too
And I know you feel used, I know you've been hurt
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I know what I did was wrong. I know I should have never answered that text message she sent me. The one where everything snowballed after that. Whatever I try to say, or try to form, none of it matters. You'll see everything I say as an excuse. When I tried to reach out to you after you posted the letter on your instagram, calling me out but without my name, I had realized that you had been just as miserable as I had been. For different reasons ofcourse. I understand the feeling and understand why you feel the way you feel. I betrayed you, I used you, I discared you. I understand. Your letter to the world, knocked my world upside down. My job or position was being looked at differently a bit, even though I was meant to ignore it, I couldn't. Reporters asked me about it, but I could never respond. I could never say how I felt, or what I was feeling. I wanted you to know that I also too, felt betrayed. I felt hurt, because of what you'd done.
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Anything I did to make you feel worse
I'd take it all back if I could
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Im sorry for what I did. Im sorry for all the pain I put you through. I would change what I did if I could. I would go back to you in an instant, if you wanted me. I cant even begin to say how sorry I am for bringing her around just to 'show her off' like you stated it, how I thrived off the feeling of knowing you were there. Just because I could. Even as I say that, I think about how unperfect you were. However, you accepted those faults and flaws. I never accepted mine, because I was told I was perfect by the world. They don't know my flaws and imperfections like you do, yet you loved me for them. This was just one of them, but the differance between those and this one: this one hurt you in the process. This was unforgivivable.
I could say that I don't know why I did it, but you won't accept that. I could say that I was blinded by something that wasn't mine or foregin, but you won't accept that. Which, I totally understand.
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But why must I hurt for you to feel okay?
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As soon as the letter was posted, I got phone calls and texts from teammates and my family and friends. All aksing how I was doing, why you posted it, what happened between us and some called me out for being a dumbass. Which for the record, that was what I was. I know it. Yet, I just dont understand why you felt the need to call me out. Was it to make it seem like you did no wrong? Was it to make it seem like you were the only one who got hurt? and not me? Was it because you felt the need to embaress me? Everybody knew we were together, you still have the proof of us if you scroll down far enough. People looked up to us, for whatever odd reason. You didn't think it would gain as much traction? I had the whole fucking world come after me, making me feel even worse. That was the whole point, right?
You don't know this, but I can't even leave my apartment unless I have to. Gabe and Nate have to drag me out to take me to dinner or hang out with one of them. I can't leave without the fear of everybdoy watching me for the wrong reasons. Everybody that I make eye contact with, I feel as though they are judging me on what I did.
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And I don't need your apology (let me be)
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After I reached out to you, asking why you felt to let the world know about what I had done- you apologized. That you simply weren't, "thinking straight." Yeah, I don't buy that. No matter what you say, will ever make things right again. You betrayed me and I can't forgive you for that. Just like you can't forgive me. We're even.
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You're not the love that I fell for
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And now I see you at parties with Bo and I just don't understand. Who are you? This version of you I am seeing, one that is trying to get back at me every second, isn't you. I don't recgonize you anymore, and you aren't the girl that I once fell in love with. But, I don't get the satisfaction of talking to you anymore, so you got me there.
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I hope you know that I still care about you dearly
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Even though I don't recgonize who you are anymore, I still love you. You were my first love, and that will never change. My feelings will never sway, though your's for me have. I can't forget about all the good times and the bad times, because they all involved you. And shockingly, you actually listened to me when I said that a few weeks ago.
"What do you want Cale?" You spat, sipping your moscato. I rubbed my hands on my pants, trying to calm myself down. I now no longer knew who this girl was in front of me, I no longer knew who she was. I know it was my doing, but I didn't see this coming. "I just wanted to let you know that despite what happened between us and the letter- I still care about you and will always love you. That will never change, darlin." I finished, before walking out into the winter air. I swallowed and wiped the tears that had formed, climbing into my car. I stared at my wheel and shut my eyes, trying to calm down my anxiety over what just happened. Ever since we broke up and having been outed to the world, I have had extreme anxiety. I never leave my apartment unless I have to. Even through everything that I have been dealing with, I wish you only the best. You still deserve everything in the world.
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Set me free.
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Now after 8 months, Im finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I finally am seeing the positive in things. I no longer walk around thinking that everybody is looking at me and judging me. I no longer feel as guilty of what I did. I no longer think daily of the letter that knocked my world upside down. I no longer think daily of you. I've set myself free, finally.
Kinda rough, but I hope you enjoyed :)
#cale makar#cale makar imagine#cale makar blurb#sour hockey imagines#pt 2#nhl#hockey#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#hockey imagine#hockey blurb
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golden fool thoughts
another ramble-filled "review" but this time it's not "first thoughts" because I finished this book two weeks ago.
so... to be honest, I had a harder time getting into this book and I'm still not entirely sure why. to be clear, I loved it, but there were quite a few parts that I had to struggle through for various reasons. there wasn't a lot of plot, which was fine with me although felt a bit strange after the first book's setup. the lack of plot led to some really great character moments, more on that later, but it also left me feeling a bit dissatisfied and bored at some points.
one of the things I struggled with the most was the whole storyline of Fitz going down to Buck to try to parent Hap, and mostly not succeeding because Hap was being a typical teenager. this plotline just fell flat to me and didn't have much emotional payoff beyond what we already got in Fool's Errand. Farseer was a coming-of-age story for Fitz, and Tawny Man already has like three more coming-of-ages nested inside it. I don't need another one, especially when it's mostly watching Hap make bad choices. (I do understand, narratively, why it was there, and it's interesting to contrast young Fitz with young Hap. I just didn't care that much.)
on that note, though, I did really enjoy Fitz's arc with his other children, specifically Nettle and Dutiful. he and Dutiful got off to a... rough start... but I love Dutiful both as a character and as a person, and seeing his relationship with Fitz evolve was great. Nettle is a weird case because we only see her through Fitz's eyes in dream spaces, and we never have the full story of what's going on with her and Fitz is never able to be honest. but I thought it was interesting which glimpses into her life Hobb gave us and which she kept from us. also, Nettle is so unhinged and being a teenage girl is really just Like That sometimes. this is the representation I want.
let's talk about the coterie!!! actually, I might make a separate post about the coterie; I have a lot of thoughts. for now I'll just say that this was my favorite part of the book. I'm obsessed with it. I loved learning more about the Skill, I loved all the insight we got into Chade and Thick, I loved the healing scene after Fitz's injury, I loved how the coterie formed and their bonds developed. so good.
(side note: Thick was the standout character in this book for me. I love him. I wish more people appreciated him.)
ok related to coterie things, the Quarrel. weirdly, I've been in a pretty similar situation to that, and it made me realize some things, but that's not what this post is about. I thought their fight was extremely realistic which means that it was both sad and frustrating to read. in an AITA post, I would respond EHS. Fitz was in the wrong, obviously, but so was the Fool and so was Jek. frustrating from all sides, very well done but I'm so glad they made up.
I do think this book should have ended after the whole "Fitz gets Skill healed" / "Fitz's identity is revealed to Dutiful" part. Fitz and the Fool should have made up then, and the book should have ended. that would have felt satisfying to me, but instead everything after the Dutiful scene just dragged and dragged. I kept expecting literally anything to happen in the last part, but it just... didn't... and I have no idea why she wrote it like that. I think this was one of the main contributors to why I finished this book feeling less overwhelmingly positive about it.
that being said, it had some of my favorite moments in the series so far. in no particular order: the Skill healing scene, every single Fitz/Kettricken scene, the part where Starling and Fitz are savagely roasting each other, the Narcheska and Fool tattoo reveal (even though I still have no clue wtf is going on with that). this was an incredible book even though some parts felt a bit slow to me.
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Hot takes, (un)popular opinions, and other thoughts of RNM season 4
[Fernanda from the future here. This is gonna be a long post. I guess I really wanted to take this off my chest, and I promise I really think this season can end on a high note, even if some bits in here feel like I'm very grumpy, especially towards the last part of it HAHA]
Ok, I'll probably write one of these once more after the season is done. I just wanted to get this out here before Monday's episode.
I try not to dwell on what if's regarding Roswell because the truth is, this story could have gone into so many ways, the mythology is there, and so are the storylines and characters (props to the writers for creating the base for it), but trying to understand why some story arcs were not explored or characters weren't used as much, it's an impossible task.
It's just what it is.
Should we mourn the potential story arcs we are never gonna see? Yes. Definitely.
The love for this show is real, so it makes sense to be upset when the potential for so much is there and sometimes, it's just not met.
But, with that said, I still think the stories we did get, in the end, are pretty good.
It's way more positive than negative as some people make it out to be. Honestly.
Especially if we isolate some stories and characters from the rest of the main arc of the show. There is intention and connection and little details that make it great.
In all honesty, this is how I view the show: it could be way more, but, in the end, for me, it's still a damn good story.
So, here's my honest opinion about this season so far:
Episodes 1-5
I LOVED the first 5 episodes. Honestly, for me these 5 eps had a solid pace to them, it built tension for the story, it felt like they were going somewhere.
They felt connected.
We had the dark triad, we had Tezca that seemed to be 10 steps ahead of everyone. All of her actions got us asking: why is she doing this? How does she know so much? Why did she take Alex? What is the alighting?
We had the heroes clueless about how they were being roped into the new aliens' plans. The tension was built.
Again, it felt like it was going somewhere.
Episodes 6-9
But then, episodes 6 to 9 hit, and the story got stuck.
We had 4 consecutive episodes that were circling around the same thing and the thing still didn't give the audience anything.
If we put together all the real information we got from 6-9 that is relevant for the story in general, it could be summed up in 15 minutes of screen time or even less.
The rest of it? It was all waste of minutes.
In my opinion, these were supposed to be the episodes to give us some answers, you know?
To move the story along.
To make the audience know what the hell is the main arc of the season. What is the Alighting? Where's Alex? Why does Max have all that power?
For me, episode 6 was the worst of them all.
Even Tezca's shapeshifting revelation lack the twist because the episode compared to the 5 prior, felt so out of pace, place and connection.
Out of the four of them, episode 8 still was the best in terms of pushing the storyline ahead even though the cuts were terrible.
This block of the season felt dragged. I will talk about the drag aspect of it little down below of this.
Episodes 10-13 (fingers crossed)
Even though I am annoyed with the previous episodes, I still believe the writers left all of the revelations and twists for the season for these last 4 episodes.
I honestly believe things will somehow make sense.
And, depending on how the explanations go, this might turn out to end more as a good season than a bad one.
GUEST STARS
The main reason episodes 6 to 9 felt dragged it's because of how much attention the guest stars of this show got.
I get we need guest stars to create a plot. I totally get that.
BUT, why waste so much time on them when you are not balancing it out with the rest of the main characters?
I'm sorry, I don't care about Bonnie. I care that she can be used as a plot device, beyond that, I really don't give a damn.
Shivani? A great addition to the plot. But all of the reasoning behind her actions? Could've been explained in a three-minute scene and not spread across how many episodes again?
Eduardo? I love him. He's the only guest star that makes sense to have more scenes and not only be used as a plot device.
Now him and his daughter? That whole plot felt out of place. Disconnected from everything else.
Will it have a point? Well, I hope so. We still have 4 episodes to try to make sense of that. If it doesn't, again, WHY?
Tezca felt like a worthy substitute for Jones, but then, the lack of explaining what the hell is her endgame dragged her character down.
The same thing applies to Clyde.
Anatsa? Cool character with good potential, but her story arc as it was, could've been done using one or two episodes, tops.
NOW, with that said, what's the story arc for Isobel this season? Maria? Kyle? A-L-E-X?
We don't know because the better part of this season and most importantly, the whole middle of the season, we spent with these characters we really don't care about and the ones we do care, were sidelined.
Again, I feel like Alex's story arc will have a big plot twist connected to the main story arc, whatever it is because we still have no idea what is it, so I can excuse the lack of info on him if there's gonna be a great pay off to it, but the rest of the characters?
Why???
ECHO
Talking about dragging the story down, I'm sorry for Echo fans because what they are getting this season it's not good.
Can we honestly look at this season and say that Echo helped make it better? More likable? Compelling?
Because it feels like it did the opposite.
I'm sorry but season 4 so far is going circles around the same issues, the same problems, over and over and over again with Max and Liz, for the love of God, if I have to hear one more time about their issues, I think I'll throw my screen out of the window. Oh, hearing they are each other's turquoise, will make the trick too.
Malex with only two episodes worth of scenes this season so far had more growth and development than Echo 9 episodes in.
HOW???
Max and Liz's scenes are taking up way too much screen time they actually need IF the scenes are going to be the same each and every episode.
The amount of time wasted on every single character having to be a therapist for Liz and Max or the amount of time wasted to include the same scene interaction but in a different setting, just to, what I now think is force-feeding us that they are the main couple, it's annoying.
Echo is stuck in a never-ending loop of trust issues because none of them are willing to face their individual faults and let go of control for each other's sake.
They love each other.
But to make a relationship work they have to want the same things and aside from how they feel for one another, they aren't on the same page.
The only time Max was interesting this season was with Jenna and when he was caving to his powers.
The only time Liz was interesting this season was when she WAS MAKING THE SAME MISTAKES AGAIN but hey, at least it gave us something else beyond her struggling to find common ground with Max.
Do you want to know when they weren't interesting? Every interaction they had with each other (except when Liz called Max out about him willingly losing his powers. That's good. It felt like they were breaking the cycle and actually addressing an issue to move forward [which they didn't]).
For a season that set up to bring about the Alighting since episode 1, I want to know more about that than 9 episodes dwelling on Max and Liz's love problems.
The Alighting should be the main arc and then, the other stories should have fallen into place around it. Including Max and Liz's and everyone else's.
But episodes 6 to 9, where we should have given us the answers, it should've pushed the storylines along, and built even more tension and risks for resolution in the last 4 episodes, didn't happen.
What have we got? Three hundred Echo scenes that, basically, are the same.
Ok. I'm done now.
As you can see, my issue with this season has been mainly about what we got from episodes 6 to 9.
Do I believe this season can end on a high note? Yes.
I believe it can, especially if they focus the rest of the season on the Alighting and how all of these characters have a part in it. Because from the little we got so far, it seems like they are all in it.
So, let the resolutions, revelations, plot twists, and explanations come in episodes 10, 11, 12, and 13.
FOR THE SANITY OF THIS FANDOM.
#malex#roswell new mexico#rnm#echo#alex manes#michael guerin#max evans#liz ortecho#isobel evans#maria deluca#kyle valenti#rosa ortecho#now I'll be back to my positive bubble#roswell nm
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I got canceled?
Another SamCal official post incoming! And a serious one at least.
Well, I have mentioned sometimes before that I like to write songs as a hobby. A thing of my own. These songs I write can be considered poetry too since I'm just going to write lyrics based on my experiences, and the melodies of the songs are all in my imagination, coming from the top of my head. I just keep repeating the same damn melody for so long that I end up memorizing it.
I wanted to share and open up a bit about something with this new one I have been writing. It's not full, but here's what I've written:
"Piece by piece, it starts up small, then big.
Watch, me fall, from grace into defeat.
Am I that, irredeemable?
So much that you want, to drag my face through the mud...
I'm not perfect, I'm human, I also make mistakes
I feel guilty, please forgive me, I want to make amends
Not for my own reputation, I want peace to be set.
Why would you hurt me in revenge?
Should have stayed silent
Not one word spoken
Why couldn't I shut my fucking mouth?
I am not evil
And no saint either,
Nobody bothers to understand,
If I plead guilty,
Will you be happy?
Would you be fine? Would that be enough?
What more can I do?
You don't have to do this,
I am really not who you think I am
There is no crime here,
Rules weren't broken,
Just used my mouth before thinking twice
What is the point,
Of pointing my mistakes,
out to the world, and to drag me down?
We could have fixed this,
Only us both but
No, you chose to push me to the crowd
Did I deserve this?
To let somebody
To think two wrongs make it for a right?"
That is all that I have at the moment. You could probably tell already what is this song about. The thing is, I decided to write it after I had after a personal realization of mine. There have been several times in my past where I've been trying to redeem myself and own for mistakes I made to certain people, and unironically but coincidentally, all of these people have told others, "outed" me to the world, about the bad things that I've done to more people that didn't even need to hear about this. What is more intriguing is that, if I was being the one affected, I never asked for help unless I really showed I wanted it, because I always thought that closing myself, my emotions and my heart was the right thing to do, so everyone else would not have to deal with my pain and so, they didn't have to end up worrying about me.
Story 1
One situation was when I called this female classmate a bitch two years ago (It was two classmates actually, but one of them I ended up in better terms with after the incident, and for the rest of the year). It was a slip of the tongue and I meant to say it ironically since I was kinda tired of seeing them dance jokingly but "sexily" to some vulgar music while we were in a small public park for our PE Class at the time. No doubt I made the first wrong here. But holy shit I really look back and think "The fuck did I get myself into?" That time I really followed the saying of "fuck around and find out". Remember that I said it was 2 girls that I said this to? And that with one of them I ended up in better terms with? Well the other one... A piece of work I tell you, and she was bigger POS to me than I was to her. Sure, I screwed up first (and later that day I really felt guilty and said to myself "I really shouldn't have said what I said there, but why does it feel so exaggerated? Isn't like every teen alive cussing at each other very casually nowadays? Why is this any different? Were my words uncalled for? Ok let's assume someone hurt me the same way I did to them, what would I have done? I would have felt slightly insulted since I was taught to not take those insults to heart", but holy fuck she kept on dragging that small goddamn situation for ONE year. And it's not like I was a bully or anything like that. Sure, my opinion/impression of her after the incident wasn't positive by any means, but I did never went on my way to attack her or destroy her emotionally.
And something I wished that someone could have told me before in that moment is the emotional gender difference between men and women. The fact that us men TREASURE compliments (aka take to heart) because we rarely get them, and we receive insults more often (regardless if they're light or heavy hearted), so we tend to be desensitized from them when they're said more casually, but for women it's the opposite. They take insults to heart since they rarely get them, and become desensitized to compliments most of the time because they're often told positive things about them. And I mean all of this objectively because it's true to a general overall scale, and a certain extent too ofc bc not everyone's the same but still, you get my point.
Going back to the story, the next week I asked for her forgiveness and whatnot. I really felt guilty and tried to involve the least people as possible because I was dealing with both anxiety and past victim-blaming wounds too. With the help of one of my teachers I really wanted to apologize myself to these girls in front of him. I did and even asked for the "good" girl to give me a hug because the tears ran down my cheek and I didn't want this to repeat ever again. I was reckless and stupid. It was just a slip of the tongue that really showed what I thought of them in that moment, but I never thought anything bad about them before. I used my mouth before my mind in that moment, and that was it. I messed up and later owned the guilt of it. But the guilt would still be there, because the second girl would actually make an effort to drag me down even after 1 year of that stupid mistake.
She brought it up later one day, one year later almost, during virtual class (pandemic and shit) and she mentioned it to my social studies teacher at the time. I barely remember what happened afterwards this brand new incident since I have tried to ignore it all. She told the SS teacher, he arranged a date for us both to talk it with our parents and the school psychologist, the parents-teachers convo with us happened, we tried to solve everything and no further damage was done after the whole thing happened. Everything finally calmed down. We both recognized our wrongs and while it took me a lot of strength of will to forgive this girl, I did. If things apparently didn't end last year, then I wanted to get this over with asap one year after.
Nowadays to me that one situation is confusing and blurry. I remember the pain I caused and the pained I went through. Internally I carried so much guilt, and not only from that situation, but from past mistakes I thought I could forgive myself for. That's why I resorted to fix things as quickly as possible to avoid the emotional reactions. Get this over with and move on to make everything right. That's how I slowly started to behave with the most minimal things. I became stoic and tame. I would pay no further mind to how other people were or acted unless they actually damaged me emotionally. Now all of this affected me deeply because it happened in my real life, despite me not having a physical encounter with any of these people involved so... What about online?
Story 2
This song/poem I wrote was also based on me being canceled online. Yes. Me. A normal internet user being canceled. On Twitter (of course) of all places. Not here in Tumblr but in my other social medias I have a pretty decent amount of followers. So much that now it was possible for me to be "canceled".
This second story was between me and some nonbinary mutual I had on the website. We weren't online friends or anything. But oh man, the feels. The anxiety. My poor fucking mental health.
This is basically a recap in DMs of the whole story because telling it fully from scratch is completely tiring:
Yeah, I had an issue with someone on twitter. Fucked up with one person by saying something I shouldn't have. Took my time to properly apologize while still keeping my beliefs and expectations low. Offered them time to think about this before coming back to me again since I'd understand they'd be angry with me.
They twisted my words completely and posted the private DMS to the public, ruining a bit of my online reputation aka cancelling me for hurting their feelings. And when I posted my apology people said I was doubling it down and asking them to apologize to me (which is definitely a fucking absurd statement btw) since I never asked for them to do that if I was accepting I fucked up in the first place?? People left and right just kept nitpicking parts of the situation to still make me look bad. The mistake? Apparently trying to say to someone nb that being misgendered was expected of them since they were fem-presenting and AFAB and I said to them 'well, that makes you not any less valid than a woman'. (I saw this as also 'comforting then out of a label because that didn't define truly who they are regardless of gender) Take it as how you will but I'm not in the mood for gender neutral discussion neither do I care for that at the moment. I reflected and thought 'ok maybe I DID mess up so I'll see how to apologize' but no. they just instantly labeled me as transphobic when all of this happened.
Considering this could have been solved private, it's extremely petty despite my actions. Like sure I made the first wrong here, but it's just not worth it if it doesn't impact you in a way that it changes the whole fucking trajectory of your life. This wasn't cyberbullying, harassment or grooming. This didn't cross beyond the line of what was legal nor inmoral. Maybe hurtful yes, but I made the effort to make amends and gave it a few hours or days so the other person responded back more calmly and civilly.
Even the people that pointed out the situation were like 'hey I know what this person did wasn't right but exposing them like this is not right as well' and these people with actual common sense still got doubled down for speaking the truth.
I talked like to 6 friends about this whole thing. All of them agreed that I didn't deserve this and they all saw both perspectives of the matter while I still showed empathy for whom I hurts and brought me down.
Thanks to them, and my strength of will, I didn't let myself drown in the negativity and focused instead of living normally.
Even when I showed my apology public people still got fucking mad at me for no reason like "you're stubborn, go educate yourself, grow up" et fucking cetera.
And I was like "I can't afford to care anymore. I'm not submitting to the negative comments of others. I did what I could do the most, and while I wished that I could have done more, unfortunately my life doesn't revolve around social media and twitter. I have school, family, friends, teachers, class assignments, homework, food, pets, health habits and other needs to attend" rather than what people had to say online. And they called me selfish and told me things like "you only care about yourself and your reputation eh/you're selfish". So it's selfish to apologize, move on and live my own life. Ok. Got it.
That's my queue to leave the twitter side of the Minecraft community. I honestly love watching others play the game, but I'd love to engage more into other communities in which I'm actually active as well (like music, FNF or Just Dance ones since I do content based on those 3 different things). This person happens to be friends with some Minecraft CCs I like watching so I'm staying of their YouTube comment sections and Twitch streams for a bit, regardless of what they think of me were they ever spot me online.
Also no, I'm unironically, genuinely and very much definitely not transphobic. There's a few trans people out there I do admire and like following, but not because they're trans either. People who i actually find interesting for what they do and how they are more than for who they are.
I just saw the amount of attention that fucking post got. I want to be KO'd on the head be led unconscious.
I need fucking help or some shit bc Idk how the fuck to deal with hate.
More than 100 people saw this shit. Im fucking scared to be harassed. Think it was the right call to lock my accounts but still man I feel like shit.
This was the first part of the story. Then I said this after I had a realization:
Yeah... I messed up even more and realized too late
Apparently I said 'asking you to apologize', when I actually meant 'asking you for forgiveness' instead
My dumbass stressed brain threw the word so much around in my own mind that made me seem like the person I hurt *owed* me an apology. And I was like 'the fuck? I am the one in the wrong so why would they do that?'. Then I realized my grammar mistake.
perdonar in english has two translations = apologize & forgive. Same meaning, different uses for different contexts. My brain wired itself to just use one meaning of the word without even thinking about the other one.
(For further context, yes I'm English/Spanish bilingual so even if you hear me speak fluently or redact text pieces very accurately, THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M INMUNE TO MAKING ORTOGRAPHIC, GRAMMAR, VOCABULARY OR SEMANTIC MISTAKES. Also this day I was being cancelled I had some serious business to attend with my family involving our stay in the United States, which I rather won't speak about but had I let myself drown in negativity that day, I'd have ruined the errand I was in)
This last story made me learn a few new things: Never tell nonbinary people the truth and stick to theirs to appease them and make them feel good or if not they'll just throw a tantrum and make you look like the most absolute scum of the earth. Maybe it's an exaggeration, or maybe it isn't, but still, my point stands. This doesn't mean go harass nb people instead of respecting them like any other human being deserves respect.
While I talked with some LGBTQ+ friends about this thing and they told me things like "be more inclusive/be more accepting/it doesn't cost that much to respect others" and they're right, that's not what concerned me the most. Like, yeah, I know I should treat others with respect and all what I could have done was done, but the fact that many other people I was in good term with just, instead of giving me a second chance or reaching out to me they just either unfollowed me or blocked me because of what this person said. I was stressed, embarrassed, humiliated, and all those feelings that I felt from Story 1 were coming back to my gut. I wasn't about to apologize to them all individually since I never hurt them myself in the first place. Sure they can be disappointed in me but like... You can't instantly believe I'm some sort of asshole who treats everyone like this? These people are mostly from MCC The Show (which obviously, I don't mod for anymore), and knowing that some of them are from Noxcrew that probably means I have zero chance to ever make it into MCC or to be accepted in the MCC community ever again (maybe I'm exaggerating here idk). Even if the stress of the situation has dissipated a lot, the lingering anxiety of a 'what if they bring this up again' outcome is unbearable. I did talk to a couple of the ex-fellow mods who were still my friends and told them how I messed up, that I felt guilty and regretful for not shutting up and needed to destress myself after being canceled. That the amount of hate I received I couldn't deal with, so I focused on what truly matters in my life as I listed previously. One of my friends said she let herself do be drowned in the negativity, and I understood why would she felt like that. Maybe I was more strongly willed to keep my head up than she was, but I understood her sympathy too. She checked up on me and we spoke for a bit a few days after this thing went down. Our conversation was profound and I will always be thankful for her concern and approach.
Now I don't care if this person I hurt in Story 2 accepts or refuses my apology. All they did to me, stress me out, making me sink into my old sins and past errors, I have found in myself the will to give them mercy and forgive them what they did to me. Sure it wasn't deserved, but regardless, I can't hold a grudge against them forever; because if I do, I'll just grow ireful and vengeful. Hell, I even understand perfectly what does it feel to being other people down, because even I tried to do that to Trobinguy in defense of Handzy (these 2 people were creators of two different pairs of OCs of Ruv's parents, Ruv being the character from the Friday Night Funkin mod called Mid Fight Masses) since Robin hurt Handzy and I tried to step in and defend her by bringing this guy down to the public thinking I was in the right when I had no business in interfering. Weeks after this cancellation attempt both Robin and Handzy made peace with each other behind the scenes, which brought me to approach to Robin and ask for his forgiveness after I said what I said about him in negativity, with awful regret. Thankfully he accepted it and we also stayed in good terms afterwards since no further harm was meant to be.
I understand blaming others. I understand suffering the insults of others. I understand insulting others. I understand interfering rightfully. I understand interfering where I shouldn't be. I understand every damn role in these troubles and conflicts and how, when, where and why I should or should not act. I understand being the cause of other's' suffering, and being the one who suffers. And regardless of all that, even when I try to humble myself to abide to what other people want me to do in order to fix things, there's always someone willing to believe I am truly heartless and evil.
Hey, maybe I am exaggerating, maybe I am not. But I wouldn't have written all of this if I didn't feel guilt-ridden for all I did. This post in also no way of mine trying to affirm that things didn't happened, because they did and there was both causes and consequences. I do firmly believe those consequences may have not been fitting for the size of my actions, but nonetheless, something it's better than nothing. I reflected on what I did and I have moved on from it completely. If someone in the future wants to bring this up I will just show them this post.
Also this post is no reason to condone illegal/inmoral behavior or to make of them easy subjects to deal with. These are my own experiences, mistakes, errors, troubles, feelings and reflections. In no way I am condoning the same behavior to other kinds of bad actions about anyone else, which I hope I will never be the cause or victim of them anytime in the future.
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Okay before I start I'm not a Billy stan, I condemn his actions and I dislike the way he treated Max and Lucas.
That being said I don't think it's fair to compare abuse victims or better play them out against one another. Your points about El, Jonathan and Will are completely valid and correct but still Billy is also a victim of abuse and deserves acknowledgement as such.
Yeah El is constantly mistreated in the lab, to a point where she literally killed people but in her case nobody really bats an eye at this as it is justified by the fandom. Yes she was also strong enough to pull herself out of the abusive situation and found people who are kind to her, her support system. Doesn't change the fact that she also has a lot of pent-up anger in her to a point where she assaulted a girl with a figure skate or straight up murdered people.
Jonathan and Will always had Joyce who is and was a positive influence on those boys, even when their dad was around. Plus the Byers are out of their abusive situation unlike Billy who still had to live with his dad.
Billy also had nobody, his mom left and he was alone with his abuser for some time before the Mayfields came around.
Now we don't know much about their early on dynamic but many pointed out that Neil played Max against Billy, she was obviously the favorite child. That adds to the anger he already possessed and to compare their sibling relationship with the Byers one is again also unfair because the dynamic is completely different, whereas both Will and Jonathan faced their dad's abuse only Billy had to deal with Neils.
What I'm trying to say is people react towards abuse in different ways in order to cope. Some people will behave like Jonathan others like Billy, to play them out against one another is unfair. I'm not an expert on psychology or so but I think how people react has a biological component as well.
I'm also not saying Billy's way of coping is right, obviously it's not and he perpetuated the cycle of abuse because he wasn't able to break it, but that doesn't take away from his own abuse.
I've seen people who identify with Billy in the way he reacted to his abuse, they had the opportunity to change their ways and project that onto Billy. We never know if he could have changed after s3 because he wasn't given a chance but it's not my job to dictate how abuse victims feel about his character. And it's kinda problematic to say only a certain type of reaction to abuse is legitimate and worthy of getting help.
I'm totally with you when people use his abuse as an excuse for his actions, again it is wrong and to truly have him redeemed he would have needed to put a lot of work in changing his ways, it's possible, obviously, or else people wouldn't latch on his character and wanting him to be better.
I was not trying to compare abuse victims. I am not the person to be speaking about it and I acknowledge that. Also billy by their Stans acknowledge that he is an abuse victim and billy antis will also acknowledge that he is. My point with that post was that Billy Stans are often times the ones to compare trauma with the characters.
Now about El. Her situation is very different and her violence does get justified by fans. But people don’t bat an eye at it because of this reason: we understand that she is using violence has self defense. Yeah sure she killed people but that was in self defense cuz they would’ve killed her or dragged her back into a situation where she will be used and abused all over again. She uses violence to save herself and her friends. And that’s why no one bats an eye at it. Because if el doesn’t use violence she will be hurt/killed and her friends will also be in the same predicament. Okay I don’t like the way you talk about El and the roller skate incident. Cuz maybe the fandom doesn’t have a problem with it. But the narrative shows how much El is conflicted about her violence and her being a monster. For 4 seasons El has had an internal problem with her violence and whether that makes her a monster. The roller skate incident also shows us this where El has a realization that this isn’t good. That this violence and her violence isn’t good and that it isn’t healthy. And that she has this conflict. So this show does show this conflict anyway. So El uses this has self defense and that’s why it’s not batting an eye.
Okay I hate the whole talk about Joyce being there for Jonathan and Will. And her being their support system. Cuz that puts all of the responsibility on Joyce. Meanwhile joyce is dealing with her own stuff and is dealing with her own abusive situation. She can’t always be there for Jonathan and Will when she has her own problems to deal with. This also degrades and disregards Jonathan’s experiences of having to grow up and become an adult for Will. Even Joyce remarks in like the first season or second that Jonathan has taken up the role and she sometimes wonders if he’s shouldered too much responsibility at such a young age. Also that line about them being out of their abusive situation is just plain not true and wrong. Because a big part of season 1 is them still being haunted by Lonnie and it is about their abusive situation. Plus the town doesn’t care much for the Byers in the first place and they only respect Lonnie. Even in season 2 I believe it is hinted at the fact that some townspeople call their number just to mess with them. They had a hard time getting out of their abusive situation and they had no one to help them. Instead they were ridiculed and Joyce’s state of mind was talked about very rudely in the town. So they get out of it in like season 2 and other seasons, but that is only cuz Lonnie fucked off to who knows where. Otherwise in season 1 they are very far aware from not being in an abusive situation. Just cuz Lonnie doesn’t live with them in their house: doesn’t mean that the Byers still aren’t dealing with an abusive situation and it doesnt mean that they aren’t living with the after affects of this abusive situation.
I’m sorry but what the fuck do you mean ‘max was the favorite child.’ Just cuz she didn’t get beat up by Neil. There is nothing to suggest that she was the favorite. They just focused more on Neil and Billy’s abusive situation than max and Neil. Which btw Neil’s abuse in season 2 to billy is only showed once. And then it’s shown in season 3 more. they decided to focus on the abuse that max experienced by billy. Also it is never explicitly stated that max doesn’t experience abuse from Neil. She could have but they just never thought it was necessary to the plot cuz they were focusing more on how billy abuses max. Also even if max didn’t get abused by Neil: she still had to live with him and hear him abuse her mom and billy. So that would have been traumatic either way.
I hate the whole ‘we never know if he would’ve changed’ cuz it disregards the fact that in canon billy does not regret his actions. He doesn’t regret going after Lucas and hurting max and hurting Steve. He just doesn’t. And a lot of people miss the point about everything. Cuz is there potential? Sure. But would billy actually do it? No. And that’s seen in canon. That’s seen when he doesn’t care about who he hurts. And next point: I’m not problematic cuz you twisted my words. You put that in my mouth. I never said that shit.
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ugh being here in San Antonio has been hell. Elevation levels screwing with my head which I guess explains why I was messed up last year and thought it was just booze or something even on days I wasn't drinking. My BIL constantly insults me or is rude and makes me feel lesser than. It’s been stressful and triggered disorders that I had finally mostly overcome. I can tell he quietly dislikes me but won't outwardly state it. Understandable though. I don't like me either.
BUT on the positive side, I suppose maybe I needed this to get a break from my toxic parents and from the anxiety of money-related crap I’ve been dealing with all year. A break from one hell to deal with another kind of hell.
I finally have some peace today. My sis' and BIL are out. They've been here for four days. I love and care about them and I am so glad they had days off, but I fear I'm being too much for them. Plus, I got really annoyed Saturday when BIL loudly said "SUN'S UP SO I'M UP" waking me up. I just don't want to be awake and don't see a point to being awake. We didn't even do anything that day. Not that I minded since it was a nice quiet day and it rained. I spent the day just watching videos on my phone.
Anyways, I felt relieved not feeling stressed out being in their presence for a couple hours. They return back in an hour.
Today woke up with a bad headache that won't go away. Last night we went to my sis's own standup show that is located in a section of San Antonio that is on a hill meaning extremely high up. My ears kept hurting. I also made the mistake of trying a pumpkin spice martini. It contained milk and made me feel sick. Also I realized that I'll never make it in showbiz like my sis'. I don't have any friends and I have too much anxiety. I was in awe at her huge circle of comedian connections and the fact she hosts her own shows now every Monday night inviting other comedians to attend. That's amazing and I am proud of her. I wish I could obtain such things. I felt left out when I was the only one sitting in a corner as everyone chatted. I did attempt to socialize but I can tell no one really likes me so I just sat quietly and played Pokemon Go to pretend I wasn't there.
This weekend I get to go back home. Ugh, back to my dad banging at my door every freaking hour. I think I'm going to spend my time in the mornings heading to the gym. Today I tried taking the trash out and couldn't even lift the bag. It was a huge pain taking it down the stairs. There are no wheels so I could create a makeshift transportation device and I'm too tired to attempt creating anything so I just dragged it. LIFTING IT into the trashcan was also hell and hurt my back. I fell over. why. the sun was also stabbing at my skin. at least i cleaned/organized my section in the living room where I've been staying and snapped receipts for points and cleaned the kitchen.
well anyways, here's a post.
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