#i want to like them! i love stories about dysfunctional people in dysfunctional relationships trying their best! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainymoodlet · 4 months

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🌧 rainymoodlet is in full hiatus mode! 🌧

hoo... absolutely sick to my stomach writing this. ✌ for more information, please read below! thank you all for following my stories, loving my bachelor challenge, and loving my little pixels as much as i do. 😊

Well, my darling fellow simblrs... it's happened. It's been a bit of a long time coming over the past few months, but I've finally decided to put my blog into a permanent sort of "hiatus mode". I am a person who is riddled with executive dysfunction and lack of self-control, and I know that if I don't legitimately cut myself off from Simblr™ and the disassociation it's allowed me, I will. not. quit. 😅

I originally joined Simblr back in 2021 during a really difficult and isolated time in my life. I haven't been able to speak much to it because of the legal issues it's tied up in, but Simblr became my escape whilst in the throes of seeking justice against my abuser in a time where my entire family had abandoned me, and my fiance and I were living alone in my parents' house with only the two of us to swirl in deep and massive depression. Sims has always been my escape; from 2004 onward, it has given me narrative control and visual fantasy for as long as I can remember, and it will always be a deeply comforting and "safe" game for me.

But when I joined Simblr, it was out of many of the reasons that I think we can all relate to as writers and creatives. I had the idea for Loved by the Sun, and as I kept imagining and writing and building this world, I thought: "I deserve to show this to people. I really want people to see this. And I really want them to think it's good." I had been existing on the fringes of Simblr on my own personal Tumblr blog: I've seen countless legacies rise and fall, countless dramas spread out across blogs that are no longer active and haven't been for years. I wanted people to wake up and roll over and check my blog, desperate for updates, eager for more.

And more than anything, I wanted to escape the day-to-day hell I was living in.

But as the years went on, I've noticed that the excitement and creativity that drove my creation of my account has dwindled beyond measure. And I will put that on myself - starting a Bachelor Challenge like Kiss Me in Komorebi was one of the beginning nails in the coffin of my creativity and enjoyment of Simblr. I do not regret it one bit, and I am so grateful for the following it's gained and the genuine enjoyment you've all had with KMiK. It's my proudest achievement, it's pushed me to be a better editor and a better screenshot-taker, it's challenged me in my way of playing and it's introduced me to so many wonderful people.

But of course... I me'd it up. 😎

I've become obsessed to an egregious degree with the perception of my handling of this challenge. I want everyone to feel as though their sim gets enough screen-time, I want everyone to feel that the creative effort they put into submitting their sims was respected, and I desperately don't want anyone to feel left out or as though they're being ignored in favor of other contestants. It became so much less of telling Dan's story and journey, and all about how I was appearing as the Master of the Game.

And to be honest, my obsession with "staying relevant" in the fast-paced scroll of the Simblr Dashboard, believing you all would stop caring or stop reading if I didn't post as quickly as possible, was my own doom from the start, fkdfdjk.

In my life, I've had countless opportunities to turn my life around and start changing for the better. And time and time again, the energy that could have gone toward improving my situation or bettering my relationships has gone toward Simblr, and this online environment. I have practically no life beyond the screen: my days off are spent taking screenshots or spending four hours on builds that I still won't finish, obsessed over every angle, desperately seeking out that ~sparkle~ of simplicity and not-trying-too-hard I apply to all of your screenshots.

I am a dopamine and serotonin fiend, and though I can pinpoint in my life where trauma and isolation has pushed me to my online spaces, I was hyper-aware of the reality that in a few years, I won't be involved in Simblr. I won't be posting constantly, I won't care about the mods or the updates or the custom content.

And the stories I've written will be monuments to the time I've wasted, working on chasing the serotonin monster instead of bettering my own life and my own situation.

And now, I've got a real chance to do something better with my life. My fiance and I are at a crossroads of choice - we can change our lives for the better this year, or we can accept that the years of inaction we forced ourselves into out of the fear of moving forward have doomed us to a life we're not happy with. And I am one stubborn bastard when it comes to giving up.

The friendships and connections I've made here are some of the most meaningful in my life, and I hate that I've pulled back in the way I have. Along the way, it became much more about the notes, the numbers, the interaction, the reblogs over likes - and I lost myself and my friendships to my own mismanagement of my time and energy. I could spend five hours on one build, going from 7am to 12pm in a lightning speed of disassociation and obsessive Alt-clicking, and at the end of the day sit there and go...

What the hell have I done today? I could have messaged someone, I could have chatted with my friends, I could have done something. But no, I built a science lab, or a date location, and fretted the entire time until my stomach felt sick that it just "wasn't right" or wouldn't "look the way I wanted it to" in my screenshots.

I deeply, deeply love my stories, and I am so proud of them and what they've done for y'all and how you all have enjoyed them. I am incredibly lucky for the experience I've had on Simblr, and I know that there are plenty of blogs out there that sit with little interaction when they deserve so much more.

And yes, I will admit. The tendency of a 15-minute slapped together CAS edit of mine getting more notes and spotlight than the posts of my stories I've put legitimate effort into has fucked with my brain.

Simblr has changed from the story-laden place it was when I was following y'alls stories and legacies from 2015 onward. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that! Online spaces shift and change just as much as the social media sites like TikTok and Instagram, that go through trends and phases and fads and memes the same way we do. We are not above other social media in that regard, and I think there's a general sense from Simblr that we're some isolated island; we don't follow trends, we don't have fads, we don't have audio trends that get slapped on every other six-second video.

But I will raise you the Blender Phase and the Edit Phase as evidence every time.

I need to take some serious introspection time, and commit a lot of my energy to things that can bring me positive change outside of this online space. I hope to be able to come back as a better, healthier person, but to be honest, I don't really know when that will be. (Even this post is something I feel I have to do to be responsible, not just disappearing in the middle of this Challenge, leaving you all hanging djfh) I hope this doesn't come off as some high-horse rant, or leave a sour taste in y'alls mouths.

I just... I'll really miss this space. I'll miss the sims, I'll miss you guys, I'll miss your posts and your legacies and your sense of humor. I want to thank so many people, but I don't want to tag you all and shove this post into your activity streams dkfd.

I can't give any commitments to appearing more in Discord or even being present on this space - I've gone to the point of disconnecting the Chrome browser that's for rainymoodlet from my main icon bar, like I am going straight cold-turkey. I'll still be playing Sims, but I'm going to try and reconnect with it for myself - not for the screenshots, not for the stories, and not for the desperate want for people to understand what I'm posting or for it to make sense or satisfy, dfkj.

I am so, so incredibly grateful for every single one of you, and I hate to just drop this out of nowhere. But I need to do this, for me and for my future. And now I'm just sitting here like "Shannon, it's simblr, fucking chill." dkjfd I JUST... this space has done so much for me, and I genuinely feel a sense of loss in leaving. Especially in the middle of a story, fkgjfkg.

I really do genuinely love and care for you all. Please take care of yourselves, okay? Mama Shan does genuinely want the best for you, and I can't thank you enough for letting little old dorky ass me be a part of your community and your lives.

'Til next time, y'all. I'll see you soon. 💛

#txt #this will be my new pinned post.#going to go lay down on the floor for a long time now.#i feel sO SICK FUCK.#i really will miss you all so much. but i need to do this. it's like cigarettes at this point. if i don't go cold turkey... i won't quit.#i'll keep stressing abt how i'm not posting kmik or how i'm not interacting or how people are waiting and it will keep #affecting how i choose to spend my time and energy #and i just can't afford that anymore fff.#but ofc my blog will still be up!! you can still read kmik and my tjolc and everything i've posted #because gdi my contestants put a lot of effort into their sims and they deserve it #i hope i can come back to y'all in a better place 💛#2024 IS THE YEAR OF CHANGE MY DARLINGS AND I ALREADY WASTED JANUARY SO LETS GOOOO

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mageknight14 · 4 months

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I think what’s interesting about Neku as a protag is that while I’ve seen some people talk about how he’s one of the deeper/most complex characters in the franchise, I’d argue that he’s actually one of the most straightforward characters in the TWEWY duology-and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. That’s not to suggest that he doesn’t have depth, far from it. His trauma and the way that he goes about in trying to dissociate from others while still genuinely loving them deep down, even if he says otherwise, is genuinely interesting to see in action, especially in how he approaches his relationships. But compared to the others, I don’t find him as fascinating to explore in comparison to, say, Shoka, Joshua, Sho, Kanon, Motoi, Shiba, Mr. H, or even Rindo as a protag, even if his reappearance in NEO as well as how he tries to keep his trauma/emotions under wraps is still interesting to see in action.

That said, he’s still one of my faves for how much he embodies TWEWY’s themes in general, his development just being great to see in action, and the impact he has on the people around him in various ways. In a series where a lot of the characters like to hide parts about themselves and how those affect the relationships around them, Neku in the first game is blunt to a tee, almost to a fault, and confrontational, which makes him the perfect receptacle for the themes/lessons the game imparts on him. We're privy to almost every single one of his thoughts, feelings, and emotions throughout the game, to the point that it almost becomes a first-person narration at times. He hates lying and it shows because when the characters have doubts about themselves, he’s the perfect guy for the job of setting them straight instead of trying to dart around the issue, getting them to look at themselves and try to press forward anyway.

This is also part of what makes Rindo such an effective foil to him as a protagonist. Like I said in another post, while Rindo SEEMS more socially well-adjusted compared to Neku on a surface-level, once you look into his actions and mindset, you can see that he's also quite the dysfunctional mess. Whereas Neku is blunt, brutally honest, and incredibly confrontational, Rindo is much more passive, self-contradictory, and incredibly insecure about himself and the people around him, which feeds into how he puts people at arm's length, including his supposed best friend. The kid can't even tackle a simple-ass puzzle without needing to consult his online friend first or ask them about their identity because he's afraid of rocking the boat. Whereas Neku is alone AWAY from the crowd, Rindo is alone IN the crowd.

This also extends to their inner thoughts, where Neku will let us, the player, view into his mind and have him lay out exactly what he's feeling, the conclusions he comes to, and be confident enough in what he's feeling to then express himself in exactly that manner (with some exceptions such as some of his interactions with Joshua, which is justified because he doesn't want to risk anything happening to Shiki if their partnership goes south so he tries to keep what he says in check, even if it internally kills him inside, and even then he still spills out how PISSED he is with Joshua towards the end.)

Meanwhile, in NEO, while we do play as Rindo and get the majority of the story through his perspective, we don’t get to see his inner thoughts/turmoil as much as Neku’s…because he DOESN’T want to recognize his issues, instead trying to rely on everyone else to solve his problems for him so that they can take the fallout in case something goes wrong and a lot of it shows through his actions/outspoken dialogue instead. Nagi’s Dive and Haz’s conversation with him are some of the only times someone directly calls him out on his flaws within the main story but when you pay attention to how he acts, his flaws pop up quite a bit. For example, how he claims that An0ther's quote of "never miss your chance to make a friend" is one of his favorite quotes yet he balks at the idea of recruiting other potential team members as well as grimace at the concept of the first game's Reaper's Game.

So we have a guy who’s constantly internally struggling with himself while putting on a cold/blunt persona because he doesn’t want to get hurt and recognizing that maybe he’s wrong on a point and letting us in on how he's feeling a vast majority of the time in his head versus a guy who constantly bitches and moans internally while passively going along with everything in spite of himself, constantly self-contradicting/being hypocritical without recognizing himself as such until he gets a much needed wake-up call later and I think that’s really interesting.

#the world ends with you #twewy #neo twewy #ntwewy #neku sakuraba #rindo kanade #analysis post #character analysis

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i-heart-hxh · 6 months

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hey

ik you're busy with processing all this scrapped ending stuff, but imma ask anyways. so people here and on twitter tend to say that killua and gon's relationship is codependent. how is it shown? cuz to me they're just extremely devoted to eachother, but i can't exactly see this whole codependency thing.

love your analysis btw, you're great❤️

Hi! Thank you very much for the kind words, I appreciate it! (Obviously answering this after a while, as the scrapped ending topic isn't quite as omnipresent now.)

On one hand, I do think their relationship has aspects of codependency, for reasons I'll go into below. But there's a lot going on in their relationship, and I also believe people use this term as sort of a catch-all for the various issues.

So, what is codependency?

Codependency is a dysfunctional relationship dynamic where one person assumes the role of 'the giver,' sacrificing their own needs and well-being for the sake of the other, 'the taker.' -- Psychology Today

I mean...doesn't this sound like Killua's unhealthy, self-sacrificing devotion for Gon?

Killua mostly takes on this role himself, but Gon does stoke this dynamic, assigning Killua the role of holding him back in dangerous situations and expecting him to clean up after his messes.

Killua is happy to have this role supporting Gon and takes it seriously, but as the series goes on, the burdens he deals with on Gon's behalf keep getting more and more extreme, and when Gon pushes him away even when he's doing his role (trying to keep Gon from doing something reckless and getting carried away, in the scene where Gon confronts Pitou), it breaks Killua's heart.

The issues between these two have a root cause: Both of them love each other more than they love themselves. This is the key to understanding many of the underlying issues in their relationship.

In Killua, this manifests by devotedly taking on whatever Gon wants or needs no matter what personal cost it has to him, trying desperately to be of service to him because it's the only way he knows how to express his love for him. Coming from the Zoldyck family, it makes sense acts of service are one of the only ways he believes love can be expressed meaningfully. As I said in another post, he even takes on things Gon doesn't ask him to do, and then hides how much he does for Gon and the costs it has to him, so Gon isn't even aware of how much Killua suffers on his behalf.

In Gon, this manifests by prioritizing Killua's life while recklessly disregarding his own. Remember this line?

I come back to this scene all the time because it's vital to understanding the way Gon values Killua above himself. To Gon, his life isn't worth all that much, but Killua's life is another story.

When Killua could have died if he dodged differently in the Dodgeball match, Gon loses his temper completely, to the point where he can't even answer Bisky's simple questions. I recommend reading the whole scene to see just how pissed Gon is about this, but for the sake of brevity here's the most important part:

This happens before the pivotal scene of Killua holding the ball for Gon, severely injuring his hands. There's a lot of complexity to this scene and what it means in their relationship, it honestly deserves its own post because it's difficult to summarize, but it shows us Killua being perfectly willing and happy to be gravely injured on Gon's behalf, and Gon accepting Killua's willingness to sacrifice and suffer for him. Definitely a case of codependency, if you revisit the definition above.

At the same time it's an indication of deep trust and understanding between the two: Gon knows that Killua wants to do this for him and he allows him to do this because he knows it has meaning to Killua. Killua knows that he's the only one Gon would ever entrust such a task to, and that means the world to him, even before Gon says his "It has to be Killua," line. And ultimately, even if it's a bit twisted, this act is all in service of Gon trying to avenge Killua being put at deadly risk.

When Gon is in front of Pitou and says the "This means nothing to you," line, this is intended to push Killua away, tell him it's not his fight. This battle is Gon's burden, he's willing to give up his life if it comes down to it, but Gon doesn't include Killua in his plans because, after all, Gon believes that it's okay if he dies, but not Killua. While the way Gon lashes out at Killua says more about his emotional state at the time than his intentions, his repeated pushing Killua away during his grief and rage is one of the ways he ironically shows love towards Killua--he doesn't want Killua to have to share this burden or die on his behalf, because he sees it as all his fault. Even when Killua contributed to what happened in a way (knocking Gon out in order to take him and leaving Kite behind, something Killua definitely blames himself for), Gon refuses to blame him even slightly.

But because Killua stakes his entire self-worth on how useful he can be to Gon (codependency), being pushed away by Gon and not allowed to share his burdens and his pain is just about the deepest wound Gon can inflict on Killua. It's not what Gon intends with his actions--if anything it's him trying to protect Killua in his own way--it's just the way their respective issues with self-esteem manifest, and it's unfortunate. It's why they need to split up for now, to heal and work through what happened, so they can come back together, communicate properly, and build a better dynamic the second time around.

Now, when discussing their codependency I think it's worth remembering some things: They are both young teens with issues with trauma and self-esteem, who haven't had close friendships prior to this. Many of the less healthy aspects of their friendship, like their lack of fully communicating for instance, are tendencies from the ways they were raised. They adore each other more than anything, they almost never intend to cause harm to each other, and the "roles" they take on in the relationship that end up hurting them are generally more self-imposed and coming out of their individual issues than something either of them is forcing the other to take on.

Their relationship has been transformative and deeply meaningful to both of them, and they're definitely happier together than apart. The issues between them need to be addressed and reflected on by both of them, but I truly believe this is something they'll be able to overcome ultimately.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #gon #killua #killugon #gonkillu #meta #my posts #asks #anonymous #long post #I feel like there's things I could dig into more but this is already long!

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least-carpet · 5 months

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No, no, but now I want to read your ideas about how wwx is set to an implosion in 1-3 years. How do you get him there? In canon, he needed jyl's death, the wen siblings death, the world against him

Another neglected anon! Sorry for the late response and happy new year!

I actually think what we saw in terms of Wei Wuxian's devolution after Jiang Yanli's death qualifies as an explosion rather than an implosion, i.e. the force was directed outwards from the centre and killed whoever was in the blast radius. I don't think he'll do that.

I do think we see him implode earlier than that though, in the post-war period, where he drinks excessively (to the point that Wen Qing comments on it), he's unreliable, his moods are volatile, he self-isolates, etc.

To be fair, a certain amount of this is related to not having a golden core and practising demonic cultivation. However, I also tend to read it as a reaction to his war trauma, since self-medicating is a pretty normal response to surviving horrifying events?

Let me be clear that I don't think he always used alcohol like this—I think his partying as a teenager became a problem in adulthood. I think that was always a risk for him for a variety of reasons (we know that he survived becoming a homeless orphan and doesn't remember big chunks of his childhood, which tends to indicate trauma) but I don't think we see it happen until after the war, during which he saw and did some buckwild shit. I also don't know that he ever developed a physical dependence on alcohol, just that his post-war alcohol use looks pretty dysfunctional given its context and all the other choices he was making.

So. Given what we know about:

his behaviour in the post-war period;

his behaviour immediately post-resurrection, specifically that we see him desperately trying to avoid people, places, and situations that make him remember traumatic events from his first life;

his partner, specifically that Lan Wangji doesn't have a real barometer for what "normal" drinking looks like, and also has a tendency to enable Wei Wuxian;

where his partner lives, the extremely calm and controlled Cloud Recesses, where everything is on a strict schedule, therefore predictable and regular, and many activities Wei Wuxian likes are just not allowed—

We have a scenario where a person who thrives in exciting situations and likes working under pressure is living in place that is quiet, regular, and predictable. He is not supposed to drink there, but has a spouse who's willing to smuggle in as much alcohol as he wants. He has thus far throughout the story distracted himself from processing a long series of very traumatic events, and has only been willing to be in relationship with people who can't or won't hold him accountable. All of those feelings are waiting to explode out of the closet he's stuffed them in and fall on his head. And now he's often in a place where there's nothing fun to do...

Like, I think that it might take a minute, since the euphoria of new love will at least provide, you know, some positive feelings, which are their own distraction. (Plus all the sex! And night-hunting!) And Lan Wangji has many qualities that make him a real support to Wei Wuxian, and that might get him through that inevitable post-honeymoon period of quiet where all his feelings pop out and come for him. But I don't think that's going to be a fun experience for anyone?

TL;DR I think eventually he will have to stop running away and actually think about what he's lost, and we know what he does with Bad Feelings he doesn't want (excessive drinking, avoidance, withdrawal from loved ones). Grief and shame are gonna get you every time!

#anon asks #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs +#least-carpet thoughts #asks

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

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Broken Glass (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! (Coming Soon)

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life).

TW: Hospitals, illness, allusions to abuse. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: It’s good to be back, my lil’ darlin’s! I’ve missed y’all! Broken Glass has a decidedly different feel than Pink Scarf, and I really hope that you enjoy it. This will be more of a slow burn and not quite as smut heavy as PS, but we’ll get there eventually! The original character of Dolores can also be read as Reader, but her back story needed to be pretty specific so I decided to go the OC route. I’m excited to dive into some of my favorite tropes with this one, and hopefully I can do them justice.

Delicious 1960 Post-Army E has me in almost as much of a chokehold as ’69 E, so it was only right that I give him the attention he deserves!

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

Bellevue Hospital

New York City, New York

March 1960

“Nurse Cannava!”

The shrill call of Charge Nurse Irma Hunt grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but you don’t dare show it on your face. Instead, you take a deep breath through your nose and hurry over to the severe woman.

“Yes, Nurse Hunt?” you say as evenly as possible. You’ve only been an official Registered Nurse for a few months and cannot afford to make a wrong step with this drill sergeant of a woman. You’d rather be extra deferential and placating than looking for a new job, no matter how much you want to run in the opposite direction any time she calls your name.

She looks at you critically, peering down over her glasses with her sharp stare. “Nurse Calhoun was pulled away to surgery before she was able to finish her other duties. I need you to change the sheets for our VIP patient while he’s upstairs for x-rays. I need you to be quick. In and out, no funny business, you understand me?”

“Of course, Nurse Hunt,” you nod frantically. It’s the middle of the night, so it is strange for the patient to be doing tests at this hour. Though if they are trying to keep his identity under wraps, it makes sense that they would choose an hour where less people were involved.

“And absolutely no telling anyone about our patient. We must uphold the strictest confidentiality, now more than ever,” she adds with a glare.

The threat is clear:

Don’t mess this up.

“I understand.” Curiosity of who it could be itches at the edge of your mind, wondering about this VIP that has the woman in more of a harsh mood than usual.

Maybe it’s Ricky Nelson or Mario Lanza or Marlon Brando, your mind titters, but it’s probably just some stuffy politician. You figure it’s better to have low expectations and be pleasantly surprised than to have high ones and be disappointed.

Ever the realist.

Regardless of who might be, you don’t have time for silly schoolgirl fantasies. There is a job to do, and you best be getting to it before getting into trouble.

You scurry away to gather fresh linens, then make your way back to one of the few private rooms on the floor. Most patients are relegated to the open wards here in Manhattan’s biggest hospital, but there are special cases, such as this, it seems, where a more private setting is needed.

There’s a large man at the door, keeping watch, and he looks you up and down with narrowed eyes longer than you’d like, sending a chill into your gut. But this is nothing new. You hold your ground, straightening your spine and lifting your chin.

“Nurse Hunt asked me to change the sheets,” you say, clipped. He smiles, as if in on a joke you’re not privy to, then opens the door.

At 20, you are the youngest nurse on the ward. People, especially men, tend to underestimate you, but you have something to prove and no time for nonsense. Graduating high school early, you were thrilled to be accepted to Bellevue School of Nursing, one of the best programs in the country. The four-year experience had been grueling, but since you had to live in the dormitory, it got you out of the house and away from your damned father and his cronies.

In the process, you discovered that helping people truly is your calling. So, while young, you are good at your job and take it seriously.

This is why you hurry in and start stripping the bed as quickly as possible. As curious as you are as to who this mysterious man might be, getting the job done is much more important than snooping around the room.

You tug and pull the sheets as taut as possible, perfect hospital corners making the bed crisp and neat. Your attention to detail and cleanliness are a sense of pride, so spending a little more time than necessary making sure the bed is perfect is worth it. The intention isn’t to linger, but if this VIP is as important as everyone is making him out to be, you want to make sure everything is done right.

Finally, after inspection, you gather up the dirty sheets and make your way around the bed, just as the door opens to the room.

Damn. You weren’t fast enough.

Your gaze cannot help but drop to the man in the wheelchair. A bandage is stuck at the edge of his thick chestnut locks. Although he is obviously ill, his sapphire eyes rimmed with dark circles and his pallor pale, there is absolutely no mistaking who the VIP is.

America’s biggest rebel-turned-G.I., the one and only Elvis Presley.

You are not a fan, but your heart unwillingly kerthunks against your ribcage anyway because he’s still one of the most famous men on the planet, and you are shocked at how pictures barely do the man justice.

Dear lord, even sick, he is wildly gorgeous in person, you catch yourself thinking. His essence seems to fill the room, pushing all the oxygen out, because suddenly you can’t catch your breath. Suddenly, you understand why millions of ladies fall faint at his feet.

Surprised to see someone in his room, his eyes rake up your body from your toes to your little white nurse’s cap. You hold back a shiver as those famous bedroom eyes finally land on yours.

“Well, hello there, little bird.”

Little bird? You know you shouldn’t let it bother you, but the pet name rankles you in its familiarity. You’ve been called all manner of things by all manner of men, both in and out of this hospital, but this is a new one, and though certainly not the worst, it bothers you all the same. Perhaps it’s because he acts as though he is owed this familiarity and expects you to be grateful for it.

His lilting Southern drawl is creaky and hoarse from illness, making him a little less mystical, which allows you to quickly recover your wits. Trying not to show annoyance on your face, you straighten your posture while moving aside to let the orderly push Elvis into the room and help him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sir,” you say politely, as pissing off this VIP will do you no favors, but your eyes harden at the way his gaze openly lingers on you. You attempt to skirt around him as quickly as possible, but the room, though private, is not large, and the wheelchair and the two men take up much of the space.

“Hey, little bird, wait!” he calls out before you even reach the door.

Stopping in your tracks, your infernal heart continues to pound in your ears. All you want is to get out of this suffocating room, but you inhale and turn around instead. The orderly gives a wink before sliding out of the room behind you. You resist the urge to huff.

“It’s Nurse Cannava, sir,” you say firmly, trying to take the edge out of your voice, albeit unsuccessfully. “Is there something I can help you with?”

That sly, signature grin spreads almost bashfully across his face and if you weren’t so perturbed by the suggestiveness of it, you might keel over from its brilliance filling the small space.

“Call me Elvis, little birdy,” he drawls, blatantly ignoring using your given name, as requested. “Could ya be so kind as to get me some water? Please?” he asks kindly, which is far more than you expect.

“Yes, certainly, sir,” you reply, equally ignoring his request to call him Elvis. You turn on your heel and escape as quickly as possible before he can ask any more of you.

A breath shudders through you once you’re out in the hallway. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. You are as bothered by this reaction as by the fact that you must get this man water and go back in there without showing him that you are in any way affected by the fact that he’s Elvis Presley or that his behavior has you decidedly on edge.

He’s a patient, you remind myself silently, and this is part of my job. A job I desperately need to keep if I want to get out of that nightmare of a house...

This thought steadies you more than anything. You’ll do almost anything to be in a position to permanently leave home and to do so without having to marry that mook Gianni. And hell, you’ve dealt with much worse in terms of patient behavior. Getting Elvis water is objectively the easiest thing you’ve had to do all shift.

You can’t seem to help straightening your starched white apron before taking a deep breath and marching back into the room, pitcher of water and a glass in hand.

“Here you are, sir,” you say, trying not to sound terse, trying not to look directly at him. It’s almost like the feeling that you shouldn’t be looking at the sun, yet your eyes want to do it anyway. Even without looking at him, you can sense his heavy gaze lingering over you. You blush involuntarily, the blooming warmth a betrayal of your modesty. In response, you place the pitcher and water down on the table near him and turn to flee as quickly as possible without making it seem like that’s what you are doing.

“Hey, now, little bird,” Elvis says, catching the hem of your skirt, halting your exit. “Why ya tryin’ to fly away so fast?”

“Oh Madone,” you mumble under your breath, your Italian heritage making an appearance as you roll your eyes to the heavens before turning back around and pulling the fabric from his long fingers. Heat washes over you in an angry wave, turning your blush a deeper shade of red.

“I have other patients to tend to, sir.” It’s not a lie but sure feels like one with the strained way it falls off your tongue. Your lips press into a thin line of a smile, desperately trying not to glare at him but catching his eyes with your unamused ones all the same.

“Elvis,” he corrects me, maddingly, that smirk playing on his lips, a playfulness in his glassy, feverish eyes. “And I was just wonderin’ if ya could pour me a cup, since it’s all the way over d’ere?”

The water is on the table right next to the bed, and he certainly looks able to pour it himself, and you both know it, but he just smiles, playing this infuriating game, wasting your time.

Finally, you sigh and relent. It’ll be faster to just do it than to try an argue about it. He’s a patient, after all.

You still feel his eyes on you as you turn sideways and dutifully pour the water out. His presence, especially when focused on you alone, feels incredibly overwhelming, mixing a healthy dose of trepidation in with your irritation. You keep your face as neutral as possible and hand over the glass.

What you don’t expect is for him to touch you, his fingers circling over yours, blazing hot from the fever he looks to have. You loathe the way your heart flips in your chest when he looks up at you through impossibly long, feathering lashes, those gemstone eyes of his expressive beyond imagining and conveying more than just playfulness.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispers. The sound swirls up your spine, breaking through your annoyance just enough to see the blithe, handsome boyishness of him. It promises an unfamiliar temptation, one you’ve seen only in movies and never willingly and truthfully experienced for yourself. Your mouth goes bone dry.

He is dangerous, you think, but not because you are afraid of him in a physical sense (and lord knows you’ve feared too many men already in your short lifetime). No, his is a danger of an entirely different sort. He makes you want to trust him, and in your experience, men are never, ever to be trusted.

“Nurse Cannava! What are you doing in here?” Nurse Hunt’s shrill admonishment startles you out of the hypnotizing stare of the teen idol, causing you to jump back as though he was on fire. You let go of the glass, slipping your hands out of his, but he does the same, and the glass spills water all over the newly changed sheets before tumbling to the floor where it shatters with a crash.

The tinkling of the glass explodes in your head, and a latent and all-too-familiar fear associated with the sound freezes you to the spot. Try as you might, you cannot stop the involuntary trembling that rushes through your limbs. Air attempts to fill your lungs, but the breaths are too short and shallow to do any good. The wave of panic threatens to undo you, right here, in front of both your superior and the most famous man in the world.

It's just broken glass. I’m safe. I’m at work. He can’t hurt me here. The mantra plays in your head over and over as you clasp your shaking hands in front of you, trying to pull yourself together before anyone notices anything amiss.

“I told you to be quick and quiet, not go around cavorting with our patient!” Hunt hisses harshly, glowering, but it snaps you out of the trance-like state that has overtaken you.

Now, instead of fearing things that cannot hurt you here, you are suddenly afraid for your job. Nurse Hunt is a terrifying and formidable leader and being on her bad side means a world of hurt going forward. Your heart feels like a hummingbird’s, fueled by anger, embarrassment, and lingering panic. You resist the urge to give Elvis a scathing look, knowing it will likely just result in more trouble. Instead, you quickly raise your eyes and catch a strangely curious yet concerned look from the man.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, Head Nurse,” you finally stammer out, realizing she is waiting for you to say something. “I’ll clean that up right away.” You start for the bed but are stopped by the crunching glass beneath your practical white nurse’s shoes.

“Ma’am?” Elvis croaks out suddenly, gently, capturing the older woman’s attention. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be a bother, but it wasn’t the young lady’s fault at all. I asked her for the water. She was just doin’ her job, and I distracted her. It’s my fault.” His bedroom eyes widen with an almost childlike deference as he looks at her through those long lashes.

Elvis oozes an effusive charm that makes the formidable woman’s hardened veneer crack. It might not be obvious to one who doesn’t know her, but her gaze softens ever so slightly.

You almost want to roll your eyes and scoff, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t feel at all like a put-on. It first strikes you as some sort of malevolent manipulation, like he wants to impress you somehow by getting you out of the mess he got you into, but he seems nothing but honest. He looks truly sorry.

You stand stock still, hands still clasped in front of your apron, needing to know your fate before moving. Nurse Hunt finally sighs, having weighed her options of denying her VIP’s puppy dog eyes or making your life miserable.

“Alright, Mr. Presley. Nurse Cannava will help you move to that chair there so she can change your sheets again and clean up this mess,” she says through pursed lips. “And you let her be and do her job, you hear? You’re not the only patient on the ward, young man.”

“Of course, ma’am. I really am sorry about the mess,” he says softly, seriously, nodding.

“Quickly, Nurse!” Nurse Hunt barks. Picking your jaw off the ground, you hustle to the other side of the bed, still amazed he was able to soften the old goat in any way.

It’s not until your arm is around his waist while the other steadies him in a well-practiced and trained move that you realize that you are holding a barely clothed Elvis Presley. A brief but decidedly improper and embarrassing thought flirts in the back of your mind as you help him into the chair in the corner. His skin is hot with fever, easily felt where your skin touches his and it radiates through his thin hospital gown. It burns into you, through you, melding with the unnerving, angry fire that already consumes you. You can feel his eyes on you but don’t dare to look at him, not with Hunt watching, making sure you don’t drop the prize patient.

You suppose you are glad for the fact that your cheeks were already on fire from humiliation, so neither can see just how uncomfortable and ashamed you feel right now. The way emotions flash rapidly through you, you’re amazed you can concentrate at all, but you manage to deposit the singer in the chair, unscathed.

Nurse Hunt huffs a little, but seems satisfied, and takes her leave, on to the next crisis.

A relieved but shuddering breath releases from you and without looking at the man in the chair that has caused so much trouble tonight, you jump to removing the sheets you made so perfectly not minutes ago.

“Hey, little b—Nurse Cannava,” Elvis catches himself, “I-I-I meant what I said—I really am sorry I made things harder on ya.”

You refuse to look at him. Instead, you grit your teeth and yank the sheets off, furious. Storming out of the room, you quickly retrieve a new set of sheets and a broom and dustpan for the glass on the floor.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he mutters as you stomp back in the room, dutifully ignoring his presence. You busy yourself with the glass first, sweeping it into a pile, then bending over to sweep it into the dustpan. You realize too late that you’ve just effectively but unwittingly shown Elvis your rear end. You can practically hear the smirk on his face, which is confirmed once you flit your eyes over to him.

A new wave of heat flushes over your cheeks, but you pretend you don’t notice his leering. Nothing good has come tonight from you paying any sort of mind to what Elvis is doing. You go about your business as swiftly as possible, counting the seconds before you can remove yourself from his suffocating presence.

“You just gonna ignore me now, honey? Come on, I-I-I said I-I was sorry,” he stutters petulantly after another minute of silence.

Your response is to tug the sheets as tight as you can. You move around the other side, hating that your behind will be in his face while you finish the bed, but it can’t be helped. You grit your teeth and focus on smoothing the sheets instead of the hole Elvis is burning through your backside.

“Well, at least I got a nice view in the room…of the city, I mean,” he chuckles. The innuendo is crystal clear.

You whirl around and want to slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face. You’ve never felt so unprofessional or off the rails as you do with this man.

He’s a patient, he’s a patient, he’s a VIP patient, you remind yourself, trying to take calming breaths. But try as you might, you can’t seem to keep your damn mouth shut, that Italian temper flaring, boiling your blood.

“Eyes up!” you snap your fingers at him. “I have work to do and a job to keep, and talking with you only gets me in trouble, so leave me be!” Blood throbs in your ears as you attempt unsuccessfully to keep your fury at bay.

“Ooh, I heard New York cherries were feisty, but I hadn’t the occasion to see it for m’self,” he muses, thinking he’s just about the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you mutter under your breath, fuming, turning around to finish the bed. Once it’s done, you breathe a sigh of relief and make to leave.

“Hey, little bird, you want an autograph or somethin’?” Elvis asks, still vying for your attention for whatever reason.

God, the ego on this one. “I don’t want anything from you.” You can’t help but turn towards him, even though you know you should leave as fast as your legs will carry you.

“Not a fan, huh? Bet I can change your mind,” he says, his left eyebrow quirking up suggestively. The man is as gorgeous as he is infuriating.

“I prefer Ricky Nelson, so no thanks,” you shoot back at him.

He fully laughs at that, a big, hiccupping, musical sound that under any other circumstance might be attractive and endearing, but now it just seeks to make you angrier. Your seething seems to amuse him all the more, however, as he erupts into more peals of laughter.

“You’re somethin’ else, lil’ bird,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. But his face suddenly turns alarmed as he can’t seem to catch his breath, the laughter turning into gasps.

“Elvis, enough of that. Let’s get you into bed.” Your training immediately overrides whatever negative feelings you might have towards the man. “Try to take slow, deep breaths,” you say calmly, crossing the room quickly.

His face turns red and panic starts to bloom in his darkening, churning eyes as he wheezes. You help him up and out of the chair, and he shudders, leaning all his weight on you. His breathing is too labored and he’s burning up, and you’re not sure he’ll make it the short way to the bed.

Indeed, the two of you only make it a single step before his long legs give way, and it’s all you can do to brace his tall, lean body and keep him from hitting the tile floor hard. Instead, you slide down together, and you make sure to cradle his head as he collapses.

You don’t panic. In fact, you are the calmest you’ve been since meeting the superstar because this you know you can handle. This is what you were born to do.

“We need some help in here!” you shout out to the ward before turning your attention back to Elvis, now sprawled on his back on the floor. You quickly grab the oxygen mask from his bedside and turn the nozzle to get the air flowing.

“Elvis, you’re going to be okay. I need you to try and breathe deep for me, as deep as you can,” you say, fitting the mask over his mouth. He coughs, struggling to get the air in his lungs. He seems in and out of consciousness, those panicked eyes of his now a stormy, glassy gray as they try to focus on you.

“That’s it, just breathe now,” you coo at him, taking his vitals. His pulse is too fast and thready. You give him a small smile, trying to keep him calm.

An orderly, a doctor, and another nurse rush in. You quickly rattle off numbers and facts regarding his respiratory distress.

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the doctor orders, and the four of you lift him on a count of three.

Elvis flails his hand, gripping your arm. It’s certainly not the first time a patient has grabbed you out of fear, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt a jolt of electricity running through you from it. Looking in his eyes, the terror you see there gives you pause.

He’s just a man, you think. A very frightened young man.

And he wants comfort. Care. So, despite wanting to throttle him earlier, you hold his hand. He clings to you as the team tries to stabilize him. Your touch seems to settle him a little, despite the way his eyes flutter and he still gasps for breath.

You all manage to get him breathing better, but he won’t let go of you. He starts to panic again every time you try to move away, throwing his vitals into a tailspin. As weak as he may be, that strong guitar-playing hand of his has you in a vise-like grip. The doctor looks at you judgmentally, and you make it clear that you have no idea why this is happening, that you’d rather not be relegated to hand-holding duty. But since his vitals are better holding your hand, the doctor nods his okay.

Give the VIP patient what he needs, is the clear message.

Elvis stabilizes. The room clears, and you stand at his bedside, waiting for him to fall asleep, to relax, to release you—anything that will allow you to leave and get back to work and forget the last half an hour ever happened. His eyes are closed, but every time you try to slip away, he just pulls you back. You try not to sigh audibly, to let your frustration show. You are usually much more compassionate and professional, rarely letting patients get under your skin. But Elvis…well, he seems to bring out an unwanted side of your normally mild and shy self.

He’s not consciously trying to be bothersome like he was earlier; he’s much too scared and out of it for that, you reason.

And at least this is better than cleaning bedpans, you chuckle, finally deciding to sit on the edge of the bed and make yourself a little more comfortable. You take this somewhat surreal moment to really look at him.

He is truly beautiful. There is an almost angelic innocence about him with his pale skin and high cheekbones, the way his cheeks are somehow both full and soft, but his jaw chiseled at the same time. His lips are pillowy and full, though nearly colorless now due to the lack of oxygen. His hair gleams, a deep, golden chestnut—a far cry from the rebellious black locks he was known for at the height of his fame a few years ago. With his straight nose and fanning, long lashes, it seems as though he was carved in stone by the masters and brought to life somehow.

Your heart skips, quite involuntarily.

Of course, there are imperfections. He’s got a day’s worth of dark stubble growing and you can see places where his skin is mottled from what was probably youthful acne. The circles around his eyes are too dark and…

I am really reaching here, you think. No, you are quite at a loss because even his “imperfections” add to his beauty.

Okay, so objectively, he’s pretty—when he’s quiet and sleeping. It’s just when he opens his big mouth that he becomes less attractive. This reminder makes you feel better and less like a fawning teenager.

Finally, his hand relaxes, and you slip out of his grasp without him reaching for you. As if trying not to wake a sleeping baby, you very slowly and quietly raise yourself off the bed. But curiosity gets the better of you, halting your leave, and you quietly open his chart at the end of the bed.

Your eyes scan the pages quickly, widening, hardly containing your disbelief. They glance up at the unrealistically beautiful young man in the hospital bed. Though you barely know him, and what you do know of him has already driven you mad, you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and dread.

It’s the thing all his bravado and beauty distracted you from.

Elvis Presley is a very, very ill man.

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letters-to-rosie · 3 months

Note

You said last month that it's not Ekko if he's not involved in activism, anarchism, just actively doing shit to make a change. I absolutely agree. But you also said you "come out of a particular background and that means [you] have certain thoughts and approaches to social change that leave out things that others do and are involved in". Would you please elaborate further on that? Not just for writing Ekko, but for the sake of knowing and maybe applying to real life. You made me curious.

So I sat on this for a while not because I didn't want to answer it but because I wanted to answer it thoughtfully, and I've typed out some things that didn't feel right, but I'm going to try again now.

I tried to find the exact context for where I said that and I failed lol so I am working off memory, but again I will try.

So in terms of background, I'm a Black American. When I was young, I pretty much assumed that my family history would be depressing and I didn't want to look into it. And some of that is there: family trees that get lost once you hit enslavement, dysfunction you can pretty much trace right back to that period, having to explain to people that your family is on the light side not because of consensual relationships but because you're from one of those states that exported slaves, you get the deal. A byproduct of this is that by the time I was an adult and wanted to dig into it and found that there was actually a lot to learn, many of the elders I wanted to learn from had passed on.

That, mixed in with me trying to understand my... financially turbulent?? life led me to engage with black radical thinkers as an adult. And that led into left-wing politics in general. So that's like half of it.

The other half is I've always been the type of person who likes a hands-on problem. My approach to social change has always just been "find a problem and throw myself at it." And that translated into a social service background. Even now, to pay for my classes, I work in social services at my university, still throwing myself at a problem that's sort of followed me around for a decade or so now. I'm not in love with the conditions of trying to fight a problem within the walls of an institution that helps perpetuate them, but for me, the immediacy of people's needs supersedes any need I feel for ideological consistency.

On top of that, I study race. And media. So imagine my excitement when I see Ekko!

I don't know that I've ever encountered a character who checked so many boxes. He sees problems and throws himself at them. He practices radical compassion with people struggling with substance use. AND their victims. And even though he's fighting Silco, he knows that the problems in the city go straight to the top (I oughta write a fic someday where he does make it across the bridge and gets to yell at the council because he so deserves that).

He grieves. I've said before that grief is the emotion that has most defined my adult life. I feel like I'm always grieving. And Ekko models how you do that and keep moving. Rather than giving into the hopelessness of the setting, he creates a place where people can heal and be their best selves. AND HE HAS NATURAL HAIR!!! My natural hair journey is another story but it's honestly tied up in all of this lol.

He's like a treasure trove of things that matter to me, honestly. I'm not even sure how much I realized it at first. But as time passed, I'd keep going back to this character and thinking. His revolutionary spirit is truly to be admired. And I think that evolution in how I've thought about him comes through pretty clearly in my writing, as I come to fully embrace a bottom-up style of conceptualizing revolutionary thought and practice. I know I'll grow and change as I get older, learn more, and do more, but at this particular moment, I think Ekko has a lot of value for me.

So what am I not interested in? Off the top of my head...

versions of the character that leave out that political dimension. I'm not inserting politics into the show. The division between what is political and isn't is a false one. If the politics aren't registering, that's because they're close to the politics of the status quo

which is not to say I think everybody has to write him with politics fully foregrounded, but I wish more people would, you know?

and speaking of the politics, not really interested in ones that aren't radical. Not trying to pass a certain purity test, but we can keep in mind that Misfit Toys shows Scar beating up a dummy Enforcer, in gear. Which they probably got by fighting them. Fun!

another thing I think is key and I would like to see engaged with more is that Ekko doesn't view people using shimmer as enemies. I honestly wonder whether the Firelights know as much as they do about Silco's stuff because they have members who formally worked in the syndicate.

and I bring that up because another thing that the show as a whole and Ekko's interactions with Jinx invite us to think about is not viewing anyone as too far gone. I think in the rush to clearly delineate good and evil, we make too many lines and ignore the material conditions that motivate and contextualize people's actions.

and on that note, I don't like to make Ekko a paragon. I think casting him as a pure soul who is working tirelessly for his people ignores his indignation at the situation around him and how he is actively choosing, every day to do the things he does. I like to keep agency foregrounded.

To close, I wanna share some quotes, because y'all know I love reading revolutionaries.

“It is necessary that the weakness of the powerless is transformed into a force capable of announcing justice. For this to happen, a total denouncement of fatalism is necessary. We are transformative beings and not beings for accommodation.” —Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed

“We have chosen a different path to achieve better results. We have chosen to establish new techniques. We have chosen to seek forms of organization that are better adapted to our civilization, abruptly and once and for all rejecting all kinds of outside diktats, so that we can create the conditions for a dignity in keeping with our ambitions. We refuse simple survival. We want to ease the pressures, to free our countryside from medieval stagnation or regression. We want to democratize our society, to open up our minds to a universe of collective responsibility, so that we may be bold enough to invent the future. We want to change the administration and reconstruct it with a different kind of civil servant. We want to get our army involved with the people in productive work and remind it constantly that, without patriotic training, a soldier is only a criminal with power. That is our political programme.” —Thomas Sankara, Speech before the General Assembly of the United Nations

“Let me just say: Peace to you, if you're willing to fight for it.” —Fred Hampton

#arcane #ekko #arcane ekko #rosie's writing desk #asks #i wrote a whole-ass essay #hope it was fun lol

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karamazovposting · 5 days

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On incommunicability

I saw a post that mentioned how Ivan is so radicalized by child abuse and yet hates Pavel so much and I want to talk about it because I genuinely think about it a lot (I clearly have issues), but I'm making my own post because I don't want to randomly come rambling into a stranger's notes.

I've said it before, but Ivan is a paradoxical (I mean, other characters refer to him as such multiple times) person and that's exactly what I love about him and the dynamic between him and Pavel. In theory he wants to help people and in some instances he does, such as the whole making Dmitri escape prison situation and his encounter with the peasant in the snow, but when he has to get emotionally close in order to do so, like he would have had to do with Pavel, he doesn't. Ivan was the only one who could have helped Pavel, except he couldn't because he has issues and can only interact with others and love at a distance.

The difference between Dmitri's situation and Pavel's is that when it comes to the former, Ivan can still act at a safe distance and even through Katya and Alyosha, so it's not an emotional ordeal. There are a lot of feelings at play in this kind of situations and feelings are not something Ivan is good with, and I think it makes sense for him to feel such rage towards Pavel simply because that's what Ivan turns any feeling he doesn't know how deal with into, so I wouldn't exactly call Ivan a hypocrite as I think it's more complicated than that; pushing away people is all he does and it's coherent of him to do so with Pavel too. To me it also makes sense for him to fail to see the suffering children that the adults around him once were, as absurd that may seem. It's all about rage and the blindness that comes with it.

It's important to highlight that it's explicitly stated that even Ivan himself doesn't know why he feels so angry towards Pavel; I've always wondered about the background of Ivan's change of attitude towards him, considering they used to have a civil relationship and it's mentioned that they used to have intellectual conversations as well, and honestly I think it's because of Ivan and his comfort zone: when things become too much, he distances himself. It's obvious that he knows what his brothers' childhoods were like, he even brings up the suffering of children at lunch with Alyosha, he knows that it ties them all together and that knowledge, on top of the abuse, has impacted him deeply. Having Pavel keep trying to get closer angers him even more and, personal opinion here, it reminds me of the way Fyodor tries to get Ivan to talk to him in some passages of the book. On the other hand, Pavel tells Ivan he's just like their father because to him Ivan is in fact just like their father: another person who discarded him. And it all stems from a deep mutual misunderstanding.

I can't really condemn Ivan, just like I can't really condemn Pavel (or Dmitri); they're a product of their environment and to me The Brothers Karamazov is also a book about misunderstanding and incommunicability: sometimes there's just some sort of invisible barrier between family members that nobody can really do anything about, and sometimes you find yourself in something that is so messed up, so tangled and so much bigger than you that you just don't know where to start to fix it (you can't, not alone at least) and I hope you get what I'm trying to say as it's difficult to explain the very specific and complicated mechanisms and feelings in such dysfunctional family dynamics.

I've said before that I don't consider Ivan's character and story tragic and while I still stand by that, this is to me the tragic thing about him: he, who has empathy for and wants to help those who've been abused, could've done something to actually help a (now grown) abused child close to him, in his own family, but couldn't even try due to being emotionally neglected (and therefore a now grown abused child) himself. In the end his inability to break the cycle, which is itself part of the cycle, digs his own grave and that's incredibly fucking sad.

#I tried to be as clear as possible without revealing too much of my own tragic backstory sorry #also this might be bullshit if it's bullshit let me know I'll probably delete it idk #oh and don't get me wrong in my mind Ivan recovers so his story doesn't end tragically #but how the fuck does someone deal with the aftermath of whatever that shitshow was y'know #send him to therapy #actually send them all to therapy #the brothers karamazov #ivan karamazov #pavel smerdyakov #thoughts #mine

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ashsostrange · 7 months

Text

it’s stand on business o’clock, cz i know y’all sick gw*les & p*nkflower shippers + delulu gwen stans ain’t try to run my girl bree (@breeandhermunches) off her blog… you got me all the way fucked up and ima tag this in ALL the categories. you can’t do anything about it 🤣 if you’re upset, then scroll ho. if you know i’m not talking about you, then have a great day! 🫶 if the shoe fits, then wear it.

i’m getting disrespectful. ima return the energy you hoes dished out n you better take it like some mf champs. y’all wanted to fuck around so now you gotta hear my mouth and find out. read it ‘n weep. clearing you bitches gives me life.

such a shame we’re back here, but y’all are mad, mad miserable. like, i’ve never seen a fandom so chronically online. are you even trying to mask the fact that you rarely step outside anymore…? 😬

let me making it so very clear why i’m making this post in the first place, bc y’all seem to struggle with my main concerns never clicking in your heads.

y’all have the time to sit in somebody’s inbox and complain about their hatred towards fictional ships, meanwhile the people y’all complain about stay on their pages and mind their business? 🤨 those people being US. ion recall none of us going directly to YOUR pages to hate on punkflower and gwiles. if we hate, it’s on our pages. i don’t go looking for a mf fight, that’s mad childish. y’all were riding bree’s dick like crazy. at this point, her hate for gwiles must keep y’all up at night. talk to a therapist about that. it’s not healthy. i’m gna address ALL the bs y’all be on.

so now that you know why i’m posting this, let me set few things straight for y’all.

“don’t use the ship tag to hate! 🤬🤬” the day you copyright and trademark the tag, present me with an official “tumblr etiquette” rule book or, show me proof that you own tumblr is the day i’ll stop. ima do wtv i want whenever i want, please get that thru ya hollow ass heads. y’all aren’t entitled to anything. not respect, not no damn “common courtesy,” ESPECIALLY not over dysfunctional ships/fictional characters 🤣 i don’t owe you SHIT.

some of were y’all tryna go back and forth with me at the grown ass age of TWENTY. over GWILES. a sixteen yr old vs a twenty yr old, see your life 😂😂 it’s truly alarming. go get employed. if you alr are, then call your manager and pick up some more shifts bc you clearly ain’t doing enough. if college graduation rates begin to decline, i know exactly who to come to. everything’s going up and even tho you should be standing on some mf business so you can afford the cost of living, you’re arguing with teenagers online instead. a lot of you have too much free time.

“you posted this publicly under the tag, you can’t expect people not to want to argue” yes i can! block me and scroll. we don’t have to argue. i don’t remember starting an argument? i was never on your pages. i only reblog shit when it appears on my dash. like i said, i’m not searching far n wide for no damn fight. 🤷‍♀️ nobody told y’all to bitch, whine, and reblog mine or bree’s shit. your issue is that you have no self control. you don’t know when to hold yourself tf back, so you feel obligated to reply. god forbid someone has a differing opinion. my post was never even about the flaws in miles and gwen’s relationship. i was talking about how it is disappointing to see miles’ story be reduced to a love story. unfortunately, y’all forgot to put your glasses on beforehand and read “i hate gwiles.” yes, i hate gwiles!!! but that was not the point of my post. y’all are either illiterate or trying to let off some serious steam. i’m not having any of it. maybe y’all are upset i called you delusional, but you’ve effortlessly proven my point.

this is the internet. you have the tools to avoid seeing what me n bree hv to say, so why are you throwing a tantrum like a goddamn child instead of utilizing them?? you’re not special. the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. people are dying n you’re worried about a hate post under a ship tag?? mind you, that was the one and only “hate post” i’ve EVER put under that fuckass tag 😭 bree will make one post about gwiles, and y’all are the ones who’ll drag it out, then call her “obsessed.”we’re doomed bc y’all are doomed.

the white mfs complaining ab the term “snow bunny”… jesus 🤦‍♀️ ts didn’t even mean what you think it meant in the first place. it was originally used to refer to female skiers. some of y’all swear up, down, n all around that being “racist” to white people is the same as racism towards black people, and it’s not. let’s use “snow bunny” and the n-word as examples:

snow bunny had an alternative use before it was used to refer to white people. there’s no significant history behind it at all, unless you count tiktok as history. the n word has always been the n word. it’s always been derogatory, and anyone will a brain would know it’s mad history behind the word. it roots in deep hatred. people continue to use this word to belittle those who are black, or use it lightly around their friends nd behind closed doors as if it’s a common cuss word. y’all’s experiences with “racism” are nowhere near comparable to the experiences black people have BEEN facing and will be facing for fucking ever. white people have and always will be seen as the superior race, therefore, you face minimal to no “racism” outside of the internet, and i’d do anything to be able to say that. don’t even @ me talking about “🥹🥹 that doesn’t make racism against white people oka—“ i don’t care. at all. drink some water. you’ll be fine.

“you guys hate women!!!” “y’all hate gwen bc she’s white!!” like, you sound so fkn dumb nd all i can do is sit and stare at you.

me nd bree are black girls. people from EVERY race and EVERY ethnicity hate black people and EVERYONE hates black girls. hell, not even black men like us. why on god’s green mf earth would we ever want sb else to feel that way??

yk what y’all need to do? y’all need to quit whining and accept the fact that bree doesn’t like gwen because of what she did to miles. it’s as simple as that. stop trying to complicate things bc you so desperately want to deem her and other people who hate gwen “racists” or “misogynists.” no. i fw gwen heavy, nd me and bree are able to coexist bc neither of us are fucking delusional and regularly touch grass 🤷‍♀️ same thing with all my other mutuals.

meanwhile, you hoes get your panties in a twist when sb calls gwen a snow bunny as if she’s a sentient being who’s going to cry over ts, like, no. your feelings are hurt? take a fucking walk! nobody has to like her.

and punkflower, oh my god 😐 i’ve never been homophobic and i never will be. i’m literally queer. i’m not about that friendly fire before y’all try and call me homophobic. my thing is, if hobie was originally supposed to be a nineteen year old, n now his age is unconfirmed, why in the hell would we go and age him down to sixteen?? all y’all wna do is ship that man with miles or write smut about him. some of y’all wanna do both!! you change his age when it’s convenient to you. if you don’t see an issue with that, then i can’t help you. you’re weird. until i hear otherwise from one of the directors, he’s 19.

ghostflower or gwiles 🙃 the reason y y’all are sobbing or wtv. i thought y’all were exaggerating when you said gwiles was your religion, but it’s looking like i was very incorrect. real talk, ion like that fuckass ship. i don’t have to and neither does anybody else. just like you lames do with gwen, you dig deep in your ass for every problematic reason possible. “you have a racial bias!!!” “you hate interracial relationships!!” the fuck?? 😭 do you cunts read what you write before you post it?? “they’re more obsessed with gwiles than we are” “they must be in love with ghostflower & gwen”

…huh? covid really set some of y’all back tremendously because it seems a concerning amount of you lack critical thinking skills. in reality, just like hating gwen, the reason we dislike gwen and miles together is SO very simple. it all boils down to the fact that gwen did miles dirt. and i’ve made a separate post, i’ve talked about why they would never work imo. when i present y’all with my logical reasoning, you dgaf! so the only thing you can do now is shut the hell up, unclench, and cope. since you wna get in your feelings bout it, fuck gwiles, n fuck you too.

y’all even got some of your own people agreeing w me, props to y’all btw 👏 it’s never you i’m talking about.

i hate that y’all made it this deep bc it didn’t need to be. this is a fucking movie. none of this is real, yet you continue to harass me and bree like we murdered your immediate + extended family + the family dog that had cancer. i find myself hoping that one day y’all will realize how dumb you sound, but then i remember some of you niggas are already grown, so it’s looking quite improbable.

and also, don’t b up in my reblogs chattin’ it up about shit i’ve explicitly stated that idc about. i won’t repeat myself because you can’t read. if this post hasn’t shown you i don’t give even half of a fuck about you or your feelings regarding ANYTHING at this point in time, then i don’t really know what will 🤷‍♀️

if i made you mad, go ahead nd suck it up fa me. we won’t be going toe to toe and debating on MY blog because you’ll be actively wasting your own time, as i am not willing to hear anyone out. it’s been that way from the start and it won’t change. if you send an anon message or any type of inbox w some bs then it’ll sit there until the end of time or be swiftly deleted. if you reblog this post trying to invalidate anything i just addressed, i won’t even give you the time of day, bc i said everything that needed to said. i was very articulate and extremely clear. know that i can’t and won’t be swayed in the slightest. we’d just go back and forth until you decide to shut your mouth or block me. so block me now. ian the one.

if you don’t get it, then you don’t fucking get it, but what y’all aren’t gna do is treat people the way y’all were treating bree just because she hates two ships + gwen stacy. you complain about how the fandom sucks like you’re not the same people who make being in fandoms in unenjoyable.

you usually have to go to a therapist and pay for reality checks. luckily for y’all, i gave you one for free! you needed to be humbled and i happily did the humbling. lil piece of advice: stop trying to force people to gaf if they clearly do not. block and move on with your life. you gon get tired one day. leave me, bree, n anyone else you bother tf alone. spend your energy trying to change people’s minds on REAL ISSUES that actually matter, not fucking spider-man.

whew, ANYWAY… i hope i never have to speak bout this again. act right in the near future n i won’t have to “invade your tags” with long paragraphs in which i set you fools straight, thank yewww! 🫶

god bless!! 💗

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daisyrella · 7 months

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long series: dad!arthur x single mom!reader

reader was part of the gang for years before she and arthur briefly got together. she found out she was pregnant, but circumstances broke her and arthur apart. a lot like eliza; she and her son live alone, with arthur visiting them every couple of months. before the blackwater ferry job, arthur convinces her to rejoin the gang with the promise that they’ll leave together as a family after he and hosea finish their con job. but of course, nothing good comes easy.

follows the structure of the game, will be a long series of about 25 parts if not more.

slow burn exes to lovers with a lot of tropes in between lmao

mini series: arthur x jackson!reader

reader is tilly’s older cousin who was with the foreman boys for years before joining our boys. without giving too much away, there’s a lot of shenanigans in rhodes and saint denis that can bring her and arthur closer, if only they’ll let themselves love again.

three to four parts maximum, mix of angst and fun with some smut.

oneshot: arthur x reader

established relationship! the gang has made it to beaver hollow and tensions are suffocating. reader is trying her best to keep her cool, but dutch and micah are only reinforcing her decision to leave the gang. there’s only one person keeping her grounded to this dysfunctional family, but will he listen to her or will loyalty separate them?

oneshot, angsty angst angst <3

thank you so much for voting and helping me out, i’ll keep working on all three projects until the week of voting is over. i still want to write them all and i will, i’ll just focus on one of them first until it’s over and can be posted then go back to the other two :’))

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan oneshot #arthur morgan series

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withthekeyisking-writer · 21 days

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Personal prose because I just had to get it out of my head. If you read it be gentle I literally wrote this just whatever came out of my head, it isn't edited <3

I got told I would be a great mother by the parent of one of my students last week.

I can't say I've been ruminating on it, but it has come back to me a few times since then. At the time, I thanked her. She told me my advice helped her be a good mother, and that I would make a great one someday, too. She said it was obvious I have some innate sense that makes me so good with children, and any child I had would be lucky to have me.

I thanked her. She was being kind. She thought she was being kind.

And she's not wholly wrong—the childcare side of being a teacher has come easily to me. I can't describe why, I've never been in professions before this where I engaged with kids, but I know how to adapt to be what people need and honestly, kids are no different in that regard. They have needs and wants same as adults. Usually they're far more clean cut and obvious, at that. It isn't hard for me to understand what my students need and fit the position.

But I do not think this translates to motherhood—parenthood—the way everyone seems to think it does.

I am good with kids. Now, I can even say I like kids, which wasn't a statement I was sure of a few years ago. I like teaching them. I like being good at understanding them. I like the idea that I would be a fantastic parent.

But by god would being a parent kill me.

My mother was not made for motherhood. And I got lucky—she was a phenomenal mother for me and my siblings anyway. This was not the path she chose but it was the one she ended up in and she wasn't going to leave us strandad. She was going to be for us what her parents weren't for her. And honestly, I'm surprised it didn't kill her.

My mother passed a lot down to me. The shape of my face, my dark humor. We share the same expression when we get angry, and the same grin when we are surprised. And the strongest thing she gave me, something that burned strong in her soul and burns strong in mine, is the need to run.

I attended four universities with four majors in three years before ultimately giving up on college. I worked three jobs in two years before ultimately giving up on that entire career path and moving to start somewhere different. I every relationship before the one I'm currently in, I have been the one to end, or become so distant in that I force them to end it. When I'm stressed I get on a train and go away, always spending the entire ride convincing myself to come back. I stand in the doorway of a bus depo and fight the urge to just…go.

My mother was this person, when she was my age. Dysfunctional in relationships, trying her best, an artist's mind with a wanderer's soul. She was not made to marry my father and have three kids and pick a career path that had nothing to do with any of her interests, and then work that job for the next 30 years. She was not made for this life, and more than that, she did not want it.

My mother is in her sixties now, and she loves me and my siblings more than anything. But she is also a deeply sad woman, one filled with What Ifs, and though she will never say it I know she sometimes regrets saying yes to my father. It's baked into every story she tells me from that period of her life. It's burning in her gut every time she talks about the life she might've lived.

My mother was a wonderful one. And I think maybe that woman was right about me—maybe I'd be a great mother, too. My sister once told me the same thing. So did my co-teacher. So did my boss. So did a bunch of other parents of my students. Maybe I would be great at it.

But I see the exhuastion in my mother's eyes when she thinks no one is watching. I see the way she sighs when people point out the way life has gone.

Maybe I'd hide it better from my kids. Maybe I'd hide it far, far worse, and fuck up their childhood.

Maybe I'd run out on them all together.

(That idea shouldn't already bring me a level of bliss.)

I don't know. But I do know I don't want that. And I don't want to do that to anyone else.

In just over a month, I will no longer be a teacher.

Maybe that will remove the incentive for people telling me these things.

#q rambles #personal #it's only 10pm can we save the existential shit for like 2am please

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justanothersyscourse · 1 year

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Had an interesting conversation and I wanted to talk about it. This is a conversation mainly about dysfunction and distress, and ways it presents-- and how you, personally, don't need to be either to still be disordered. SO.

I don't find DPDR episodes to be distressing.

In fact, I would even go so far as to say that in the vast majority of episodes, I enjoy the experience (especially now that I understand what's happening, and the why and how).

No feels, no cares, no existence-- not me, not my life, not my problems. I appreciate the ability to go away for a while from my overwhelming emotions.

And that's SUPER dysfunctional of me, even if I enjoy it and I'm not distressed by it, because I should be able to handle minor stresses without dissociating to high hell-- and worse, enjoying it (behavioral addiction ftw).

But you know who DOES find these episodes to be distressing? My partner, especially when it happens when we're out and about doing things, when he needs us--any of us, all of us, to be there, in the moment, functionally doing adult things with him.

He doesn't need the added stress and work of leading around a floating, vaguely fussy zombie while pushing a cart full of food and trying to sort out the financial part of what's looking to be a couple hundred dollar grocery trip.

Any distress I might feel about these episodes is purely in regards to my partner's negative reactions to them.

He does his best, and he tries hard not to be upset, but I know he is, and sometimes it results in an argument and hard feelings.

This social dysfunction matters.

While I am personally fine (even happy), my symptoms have effects that create dysfunctions in my relationships and with/in other people in my life, and that's just as important to the diagnostic process.

I think it's very much ignored by the communities as an avenue of discussion. I think it gets lost in the conversation of validity and under this general feeling of... The world should cater to us (not in a negative way, just as a general statement). But it shouldn't, and we shouldn't be allowed to just do whatever we want, effects on others be damned.

Like, I don't often see conversations in the system community about dysfunction in positive, healthy relationships. There's lots of discussion around unhealthy relationships with parents and siblings, etc, but not how our symptoms affect the people we care about and those who want to see us get better.

I would even go so far as to say that the opinions and needs of others (like partners) are often ignored in the conversation of dysfunction and distress.

We all act like it's about us, us, us, but we forget that the way our behaviour and symptoms effects others is just as important in the diagnostic process and the discussion of functionality.

I would love to hear others' stories and thoughts on this.

#syscourse #actuallydid #actuallyosdd #actuallytraumagenic #did #osdd #anti endo #anti endogenic

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susandsnell · 1 year

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🔥 Batman comics in general

Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

Oooh! I do think a lot of my saltier Batman comics opinions aren't exactly unpopular in nature (too much grimdark and never in the right direction, the misogyny, Killing Joke was a mistake, BruceBabs was a mistake, stop misusing Rogues), so I'll try to bring up some less-discussed ones! (Or at least ones I see discussed less, lol.)

Batfam is conceptually good, but nobody is handling it well. As I've previously expressed, Batfam content constantly oscillates between "Bruce is an abusive kidnapper of traumatized children he trains into child soldiers despite having the means to have them live in luxury, does not provide with love or positive reinforcement, and regularly pits against each other" and some of the most facile, cringey, early 2010s Tumblr conception of found-family to be seen, when I think it's more dramatically effective to find a happy medium between the two. A loving superhero found family with its share of dysfunction, hurts, and mistakes and appropriate nuance being brought to these conflicts is apparently too much to ask for (as is writers remembering Robin(s) and Batgirl literally exist as kid appeal characters).

Likewise, canon Harlivy is seldom handled well. As I said on Twitter the other day, "corporate Pride ate Harlivy". Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy's relationship, both back when it was subtextual and later on as it became Harley's main ship in iterations where she's able to get out of her abusive relationship with the Joker was groundbreaking and important. It was absolutely crucial to middle school me. But somewhere along the way, people lost the plot that they are indeed villainesses (whose queerness was meant to make them more endearing/sympathetic/relatable, but not change this status), and it fell prey to the respectability politics traps that plague just too many sapphic ships once they go canon. In order to be 'good representation', their villainy extends to 'haha RANDOM' irreverent chaos, and their personality gets boiled down to the shallow archetypes of 'chaotic and perky' Harley and 'snarky and sexy' Ivy. Their relationship to one another is 100% fluff, because God knows any nuance, tension, flaws, or friction between two master criminal characters with canonically tragic histories can't possibly be allowed. Because of the misogynistic expectations of Women Being Soft And Good coupled with the homophobic respectability politics of being as toothless, soft, and desexualized as possible to appear nonthreatening, sapphic ships are held to such unfair standards wherein the slightest conflict will be termed abusive and bad representation, and as such, they're written cardboard-flat, and unfortunately, this has befallen Harlivy in most canons where they're together. Even if it's realistically exploring things like recovery for either lady, because that's messy, and complicated, and nonlinear, and who wants that when you can have a memeable 'be gay do crimes'? Oh, but don't worry. Sometimes they will be sexually active - for the titillation of straight men. In-universe. (Don't get me started on the Harley Quinn show...) And poor Selina gets roped into third-wheeling/cheerleading the most boring possible version of them too often...

A lot of the most popular/famous titles are not the better ones. (Not you, Long Halloween, you're a delight and everyone loves you.) Everything that's there to say about The Killing Joke and The Dark Knight Returns has been said better by people smarter and better-versed in comics than me, but Batman: Hush is just contrivance upon contrivance, everyone and their mother is tired of the shit-billion stories about Joker fridging yet another person, and perhaps my most unpopular opinion is that Batman: Year One is entirely overrated. I like the noir atmosphere, the truly corrupted Gotham it gives us, and the sweet triumvirate between Gordon, Harvey, and Bruce, but seeing adaptations like The Batman (2022) and even The Dark Knight (yes, I'm saying something nice about Nolanverse for once lolol) take these elements and do so much more with them really highlights the weaknesses in this story. There's some really good origin/character work for Bruce becoming Batman and the psychology behind it, but past that, not a whole lot happens beyond a very thin and confusing police corruption plot, and everyone is just too damn mean for the sake of the grimdark setting. Bruce injures an already exploited child in the red-light district and sexually harasses the Gordons to throw them off his trail for being Batman, and the latter is played for laughs. Jim cheats on his pregnant wife with a coworker half his age and both women are portrayed as stereotypically in these roles as humanly possible. Selina Kyle is...there, to be angry and sexualized and not much else. It just feels like a lot of buildup without much payoff.

Lastly, and jumping off the above, I'm taking away the Gordon family from writers until they've learned to play nicely with them. I don't know what it is about Jim Gordon that makes writers - men in particular - work through justifying their weird issues about women, but my God, the poor man has been character assassinated to hell and back. (Everyone has in comics, but it's always in the same way with Gordon that properly grosses me out.) If he's not cheating on his housewife with a much younger coworker he's presented as oh-so-noble for not outright workplace harassing, he's neglectful, abusive, or otherwise aggressive to his loved ones in ways that are almost always justified or excused narratively because he's 'dealing with a lot' or xyz past trauma. He's frequently made into a mouthpiece for misogyny, calling women "bitches" in the Arkham series and making other such delightful comments, fetishizing Harlivy (in the Harley Quinn show!), or putting down Barbara's capabilities. If he's written to be struggling with addiction, it's always played as a joke. And for Barbara's part, since The Killing Joke, she's always such a favoured writers' punching bag/doll to put in uncomfortable relationships, often having her talents, skills and intelligence undermined in favour of portraying her as a sex-crazed, overemotional disaster who's in it for the thrills until she is narratively punished in some gendered way. I don't get it! I'm all for what makes characters tick or challenging them or giving them flaws or new horrific situations to work through, but why is it always the same tired, offensive hows and wherefores for the Gordon family? Let them rest!

#abuse mention cw #batman #jim gordon #bat-tag

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sproutwings · 5 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers!

The lovely @crestfallercanyon tagged me for this weeks ago, and I haven't been ignoring it - I just didn't get around to it sooner. Sorry!

How many works do you have on AO3? 380 (382, technically, because two are still anon/unrevealed exchange works.)

What’s your total A03 word count? 1,123,214

What fandoms do you write for? Currently, mostly DCU, The Flash and a bunch of tiny fandoms, but I've been writing fanfic for ages, so I went through quite a few fandoms.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

a) cut me open, take my heart (DCU, JayTim, 1744 kudos) b) A Bird in the Hand (DCU, Dickstroke, 1694 kudos) c) Hook(er), Line and Sinker (The Flash, Coldflash, 1586 kudos) d) No Shortage of Blood (Original Works, Starving Vampire/Vampire Hunter Having A Moral Crisis, 1453 kudos) e) Portrait of the Artist as a Middle-Aged Man (Gossip Girl, Dan/Blair/Chuck, 1149 kudos)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I always try to, but sometimes it takes a while to get around to it. /o\

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have no idea. I used to write a lot of angsty stuff back when I was younger but the older I get the more I gravitate towards fics that leave the characters in a... well, maybe not necessarily in a good place exactly, because I tend to ship a lot of dysfunctional ships and write unhealthy relationship dynamics, but I don't want the characters to feel hopeless and unhappy in the end, so even when they're in a bad situation, they're making the best out of it.

A very old, very angsty fic of mine is Too Close To Touch (Harry Potter, various permutations of Draco, Harry and Hermione). I don't know if it's the angstiest overall, but it occasionally still gets comments so it's fresh in my mind despite having been written almost two decades ago.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh no, this is similarly hard to answer. Maybe Throw Away the Plan (The Flash, Coldwestallen)? Most of my endings seem to be "the main conflict of the story is dealt with, the ship kisses and things are okay-ish for now". 🙃

Do you get hate on your fic? Maybe once or twice, but nothing dramatic or memorable, luckily enough.

Do you write smut? Sometimes.

Do you write crossovers? No.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes! Someone copied a few of my fics word by word, replaced the names and posted them as Kpop RPS. D: D: D: I got the author to take them down, but they did it with a lot of people's fics and eventually AO3 banned them.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, a few! I blanket allow translations, as long as they're credited properly and not posted anywhere but AO3.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Yes, but it was a really long time ago, and coordinating was pretty stressful. I prefer to work on my own schedule.

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? Noooo, don't make me choose. I love so many ships! If I absolutely had to pick one, it would be Tommy/Bubonic from Eye Candy, but it mostly depends on what I'm in the mood for right in that moment.

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? There's Coldflash BDSM fic based on a long-forgotten Tumblr prompt I would have loved to write one day, but it would be far longer than anything I'm comfortable writing and it's only 'in progress' in so far that I have a few dialogue snippets from it written down yet.

What’s your writing strengths? Character voices and snappy banter, probably.

What’s your writing weaknesses? Plot!!!! As you can see by every fic I've written where the characters get captured or attacked by some nameless villain for nebulous reasons. I always handwave stuff like that because I simply can't bring myself to care about it or put any thought into it. 😅 Sorry!

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As a reader, It always throws me out of the story. :(

First fandom you wrote for? The X-Files! Mulder/Krycek was teenage Sandrine's first fanfic obsession. (Though technically, I wrote terrible Star Wars and The Three Musketeers fic long before I knew what fanfic was! But I've decided that doesn't count. 😅)

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

(never been) so much at stake (OW, Vampire Moonlighting As A Barista/Exhausted Vampire Hunter In Search Of Caffeine) is probably the best, but The Biggest Score of All (The Flash, Coldflash) has my heart!

I'm supposed to tag people here, and I'm terrible at this, so @waysheswings, @sunherirai, @moriavis, @zeroducks-2, @hithelleth, @elasticella - if you want to do this, consider yourself tagged and if you want to ignore it, pretend I never mentioned your name. And anyone else who sees this and wants to answer, you're also tagged! Yes, I mean YOU. :D

#memememe #hello ask box #sandrine's favorite things #ao3 #fandom and other kinds of crazy

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sunflower-chai · 3 months

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so. i watched shubble’s vod. i just feel so so sorry that she had to go through that but i’m glad she’s in a place now where she felt comfortable sharing her story. i truly believe it’s going to help so many people. there were parts of her story i could relate to and it was incredibly validating to hear that some of the things i went through were not okay. it’s been 4 years and i feel like over time i’ve tried to downplay exactly what happened. i’ve also blocked a lot of it out of my memory and genuinely can’t recall a lot of specific instances. but just hearing her put her experiences into words was so healing for me. i hope she feels all the love from her friends and fans and continues to heal and thrive. and i don’t know how likely this is, but i hope the person who hurt her never has the opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.

gonna vent a little below the cut:

thankfully i was never physically abused, but i was in an emotionally manipulative/borderline abusive relationship for about two months. thankfully my friends are incredible and helped me to see the red flags quickly so it didn’t last longer or progress more. but when shubble started talking about how this guy would say she was remembering things wrong and tell her she’s overreacting or being dramatic, that really hit close to home for me. because whenever my ex would do things that upset me and i called him out on it, he would say it wasn’t a big deal and i just didn’t know how relationships worked because i had never been in one before (at the time i was freshly 20 and he was 25).

also when shubble said she had to help this guy clean his house/do chores, and maybe he had never learned so she felt bad for him, i just flashed back to my ex telling me all of his childhood trauma, making me feel bad for him and like i couldn’t leave and break his heart. he admitted one of the reasons he started dating me was because he liked my family and wanted a replacement for his dysfunctional one. idk it’s a loose connection, but it’s interesting how abusers will make you feel sorry for them and sort of trap you in the relationship.

also the bit about the safe word. i laid out my physical boundaries very early on and he promised not to cross them and then he did multiple times. he would weaponize this. whenever i upset him by not texting him back immediately or had to reschedule a date because i was a busy college student, he would tell me i could make it better by offering physical affection. and i would do it bc he made me feel like i had done something awful when in reality no sane person would react like he had.

the part that made me really sick to my stomach was when shubble talked about how this guy pinned her down and told her to try to push him off and she couldn’t. and then he said she wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. that is so unbelievably messed up. and all i could think of was the time i was at my ex’s apartment watching a movie and i fell asleep on his shoulder. and when i woke up he said “i can’t believe you fell asleep. i could have done anything to you and you wouldn’t have known.” if a romantic partner is thinking about and telling you these things RUN VERY FAST IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. to this day i’m still so glad i didn’t date him for a longer amount of time, who knows what might’ve happened.

okay last thing. the part about shubble’s ex insisting that he loves her more than she does. it just brought me back to when i broke up with my ex and he insisted that no one would ever love me as much as him. there were no guys out there who were as good as him. and for the longest time i believed this. i internalized that i was unlovable, that i would never find a guy who would treat me right, that all men were terrible. and i was scared of dating for years after this because i didn’t want to go through all the anxiety and waking on eggshells and screaming my anger into pillows again. but over time i’ve been able to heal, thanks to family, friends, and my relationship with God. i’ve opened my heart up to the possibility of romance again. i haven’t dated anyone since i ended things with my ex, but i’m open to the idea. but i will not settle for anything less than what i deserve. shubble’s story has definitely contributed to my resolve.

okay that’s all. if you’ve read this far thank you for letting me get this off my chest. i love you and take care of yourselves ❤️

#turning rbs off bc i get personal lol #also like everyone has said please don’t speculate who shbbl was talking ab #if she wanted us to know she would have said #tw abuse #vent #tw emotional manipulation #mer talks #let me know if i need to tag for anything else pls

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allthatglittersisnotgoldrush · 8 months

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I’ve been thinking a lot about the brotherly dynamic between Celegorm and Maedhros, especially after reading the last few chapters. From my perspective, Maedhros seems to view Celegorm as a better example of what an older brother should be (should have been). While, on the other hand, Celegorm adores Maedhros. Sometimes, I think that Celegorm tries to see Mae clearly but can’t go too deep into understanding him because it feels like criticizing him. Out of all the brothers, Maedhros knows that Celegorm will be the one to protect the family. He’s as unyielding as a mountain. I think Maedhros knows Celegorm is smart where it matters most (even though everyone else doubts it). That’s probably why Mae thinks of Celegorm whenever he’s close to death.

Am I completely wrong? 😅 I probably am haha. What are your thoughts on the relationship of these two brothers? These two young men who try their hardest to do away with their sensitivity in favor of strength.

P.S. I read three published books this past month and NONE compare to your Gold Rush. I want to print it, bind it in gold, and paint miniature images of your stories like a medieval monk would.

“These two young men who try their hardest to do away with their sensitivity in favor of strength”

Ok first of all I will post links here to a few select fics from our massive list that illustrate EXACTLY the relationship you have described, because far from being completely wrong in your interpretation, you are completely RIGHT. It is difficult to even add any of my own thoughts as you have already articulated them very well!!!

Mae does see Celegorm as being naturally better suited to being the eldest and a leader than he is (which we know from canon . . Isn’t true) and also recognizes that Celegorm is actually very intelligent, when most people assume otherwise. He is so relieved currently to have Celegorm to lean on; out of all his brothers i think he views Celegorm as his peer the most. If he had to leave anyone in charge again, he might not choose Maglor. Celegorm, however, wants Maedhros to continue to be the exceptional eldest; to have to admit that Maedhros has been changed by his time in Angband is a horror to him.

Celegorm wants to keep his worship of Mae as the eldest alive, but he has always been most perceptive of the brothers (besides perhaps Caranthir). He understood what was happening when his parents would fight and Mae would have to peacekeep. He understood that if he came home from wandering and wasn’t scolded for missing chores, it’s because Mae did his work to cover for him. Mae’s language of love is so frequently nonverbal and sacrificial, and Celegorm is sensitive to injustice; he has thus always understood instinctively when Mae is doing anything out of love, and has understood too how to give Mae love back in ways that don’t burden him. This used to be a really easy balance between them. Since Mae was captured and returned, it’s all been knocked askew.

Celegorm loves Mae so much he can’t bear to consider that Mae /has/ been diminished or damaged in any way by his time in captivity, after Celegorm failed to rescue him; meanwhile Mae loves and respects Celegorm so much, he can’t bear for Celegorm to think him weak. They should talk about this, but neither wants the other to think worse of them, so they don’t. The result is . . . Increasing dysfunction, borne out of mutual love and disappointment/fear.

#admin mythopoeia #gold rush au #gold rush au asks

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badaziraphaletakes · 3 hours

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In which some poor innocent unsuspecting reader submitted an ask and I respond by throwing an entire textbook at them

Like seriously i won’t even be upset if no one reads this PhD dissertation, like actually what is wrong with me omg

The ask:

I want to start by saying I love this account and really appreciate the rebuttals I see here to some of the messed up stuff the fandom’s spit out over the past few years. That being said, the most recent post about “the creepiest take you’ve ever seen,” was one I disagreed with strongly. It’s entirely normal to enjoy watching media where characters have breakdowns. It is not a desire to see a person breakdown. It is a desire to watch a good story.

My response:

Hi and thank you for your kind words! (Also idk why there is this huge gap in the text here, sorry haha!) If it were a necessary part of the story, or a part of the story that made sense, I would agree. But it’s not necessary (esp not at this point in the story) and therefore wouldn’t be “good”, if we are defining good art as being emotional truthful, which I imagine is a pretty uncontroversial definition.

Side note: We already saw him have this exact shattering breakdown in Uz. So that renders most of what I am about to say (and arguably some of what you have said) somewhat moot. But I’m going to continue anyway because some of the points brought up here touch on issues that I think bear re-visiting often.

It’s cathartic, it’s engaging, and it helps people who’ve been through the same thing see themselves reflected. For example, I like watching someone on tv hit rock bottom with their addiction because I’ve been through that, and seeing them finally realize they have to work on recovery and actually do it is motivating and empowering.

I’m so sorry you’ve been through that. I haven’t (although I am estranged from an entire side of my family due to alcoholism and meth addiction, which is a whole fun thing), so I can’t comment on this too much.

But addiction is not the same as an ab*sive relationship. (I do have knowledge of those, both from life experience and from my previous job in ab*se research. I edited a newsletter about family violence research for several years.) Seeing a person suffering from addiction realize they want to work on recovery, and realize that the substance they are addicted to is messing up their life, can make sense. Especially if they're in a place where they're able to work on it and have the opportunity to try to change.

But seeing an ab*se survivor “realize they need to get away from their ab*ser because they’re evil and have a breakdown about it” doesn’t make sense, because being trapped in an absive situation is not about “motivation” or what they think about the abser or even, really, about "empowerment". (Side note that word is thrown a lot to delude women into thinking our capitalist system is working for us rather than oppressing us. But I digress.) It boils down to the fact that they are in danger if they leave. The situation is not within their control.

(This next part is not directed at you, but at the general readership, in case this is helpful discussion for anyone: A lot of addictions aren’t within people's control at all either. It depends very much on the drug we’re talking about, the health of the individual, the quantity and duration of the addiction, whether the person has access to the healthcare they need to be cured, and whether there’s a way for them to get free from the broader societal dysfunctions that led to them being trapped in this situation in the first place.)

Also, with addiction, people can absolutely get past that without losing their sense of self and their identity. If they go through that kind of crisis in the process of healing from addiction, I would argue that something is very wrong. (Not with them, but with the society around them). In a best-case scenario, a person suffering from addiction would have access to the kind of mental and physical healthcare and support system that lets you get free from that without a shattering breakdown or loss of sense of self.

Besides, not everyone who has an addiction has toxic beliefs about themselves or their own identity or other people, etc etc. (Babies who are born addicted come to mind, if we want to talk about the most extreme example.) So I find the idea that addiction is down to toxic beliefs about one's self very suspect. I would argue that 95% of the time, addiction happens because your life sucks. The mental health community is starting to have this conversation about depression and anxiety - Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to work on one's "limiting beliefs" and "destructive thought patterns" can only do so much to help you feel better when your whole life is shit anyway. And it can actually make it WORSE if the victim is made to believe that their depression is the fault of their "Faulty thoughts" rather than a reasonable reaction to a shitty situation. Not necessarily saying we should throw CBT out the window altogether, but I am saying that mental healthcare will be a LOT more effective when it learns to truly take the broader societal context into account. I suspect, I hope, we'll soon be having a simialr conversation around addiction.)

And that’s doubly the case for ab*se survivors. They’re not stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with them that they need to fix. They’re stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with the ab*ser.

Regardless of the victim’s personal worth as an individual, regardless of whether they’re a good person or what-have-you, they don’t deserve to be ab*sed.

(I'm just waiting to hear about how some therapist tells a victim to work on their "limiting belief" that they need to stay with their ab*ser in order not to be killed, and/or tells them that fearing their ab*ser will kill them is a "cognitive distortion", and tells them to stand up to their ab*ser and/or leave, and then the ab*ser kills them. But I digress.)

And the loss of self when separating from a toxic system that’s defined your whole life is a real thing some people go through. It’s not bad consider that Aziraphale could also go through that, or to want to see that experience reflected.

I want to be very clear that I don’t have the smallest objection to people wanting to see that in a show. But a. that’s not what the person was saying, and b. they were also saying it’s necessary. IT’S NOT. I can’t emphasize this enough.

Loss of self is the worst-case scenario for how something like that goes. Nothing good comes from that. That is a side effect of ab*se (because the ab*ser’s the one who says that “Everything you are is bound up in me and you’re nothing with me"), not an integral part of the process of getting away.

Trauma is not necessary for character growth.

The way these things should go is that the person is able to gradually and mindfully work through the beliefs that are poisoning them with the help of a therapist, trusted friends, etc.

I know what I’m talking about. I worked in trauma research for over seven years. Please trust me on this one.

And again, Aziraphale can’t “separate” from them anyway. There’s nowhere he can go where they won’t find him. So his beliefs are irrelevant to his situation. And if the show implies that his beliefs “need to change” as part of the earth being set free from heaven-hell’s tyranny, or that he “needs to change” in order to be free, I will be writing a strongly-worded letter to the creators.

But more importantly, *they didn’t just say giddy.* They also said apprehensive. Perhaps they’re apprehensive because they know it could be painful to watch. Or because they don’t want to see it handled poorly.

“Giddily apprehensive” sounds an awful lot like “excited” to me. I admit it is ambiguous, though, so I’ll give you that one. I maintain that the OP expressed themselves with an exceptional lack of grace, however. And they’d be FAR from the first person to want to see Aziraphale suffer because they are mad at him. I think I have good reason to believe that's what they're getting at here, given how many people in the poster's orbit say the same kinds of things and how many other things I've seen the OP say that are along those lines. I acknowledge I should have made that clearer in my original post.

They aren’t giving this advice (if one could call it that) to a human. They’re saying they’re excited to see a character breakdown. Character arcs like that are common and enticing for good reason.

I have yet to see a reason why I should believe that the things people say about Aziraphale are different than the things they say about people in real life.

I would point you to a couple lines down where you say yourself that we respond to characters the same way we respond to real people.

Personal growth ≠ character growth.

But what makes a good character is that they act like real people.

As an audience, character growth (even negative) is engaging.

Yes, absolutely. But we can absolutely do character growth in a way that does not spread harmful mindsets or misinformation about what ab*se and recovery from ab*se looks like. In fact, I would argue that character growth can’t happen if the writer doesn’t write the characters to behave in a way that is realistic to real life.

Characters follow the same rules, though. We respond to characters the same way we respond to real people. The same general rules of personal development and so forth apply.

The idea that “Aziraphale realizes his ab*sers are terrible” is something he needs to do for his “personal development” is highly objectionable. He doesn’t need to grow in this area. He just needs his ab*sers to leave him alone. Side note: We should give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he already does think they’re terrible and only stays with them because he is terrified. Even if this hadn’t been strongly and frequently hinted at in every episode going all the way back to S1E1 - almost every scene, in fact - we should still give him the benefit of the doubt.

Also, even if we say, for the sake of argument, that Aziraphale was a terrible, awful, horrible person -I know you’re not saying that, to be clear- even then, he still wouldn’t “need to realize his absers are terrible” or “have a complete breakdown” or “lose himself” in order to grow. That's not how growth works. The best growth happens when people are at peace and safe and loved. Not frightened and confused and alone. He never chose them in the first place, he never wanted to be on their side. If he were left alone, he would just spend the rest of eternity reading his books and eating Eccles cakes and snuggling with his former-demon. That’s who he really is. There’s nothing about him as a person that needs to change. I agree a story where a person loses their sense of self after escaping from an absive system would be interesting to watch, but I maintain that it does not make sense for the context of this particular story. And such a story would NEED to make clear that the person wasn’t bad or wrong for deriving some part of their sense of self from the ab*ser and that they shouldn’t have had to have a catastrophic breakdown in order to develop their own sense of self. No one should have to go through that.

It’s not the same thing as asking for personal growth from a real human being.

Good characters do not operate according to different emotional and psychological rules than we do, though. If they did, we wouldn’t have millions of people sobbing about how real Aziraphale and Crowley feel to them. We would be the biggest dodos in the world if we were reacting this way to paper dolls 😄

Comparing the desire to see a character go through a dramatic storyline like that (and to come out of it strong and shining) to fundamentalist rhetoric is… just total bullshit.

You said this blog has been a good place for you and I want it to continue to be that way for you. So I want to give you a chance to revisit this part and see if you can say something more constructive. Because I've gotta admit, this really made me upset and I can't let it go without saying something. It’s not cool to call someone’s commentary “bullshit” like this.

I heard the line “we must die to ourselves” many, many times from my high-control religion. It is a classic cult line. Hence why so many cults have "burial and rebirth" rituals, make people change their names, etc.

I am not just making up a comparison. This is a real phenomenon. Controlling ab*sers are the ones who’ve given us this idea that “death of the self” is character growth. It’s not. Character growth happens in spite of those excruciating emotional crises, not because of them.

Growing as a person is supposed to feel good.

Also - Again, they said he “needs” to do it.

And they didn’t say anything about Aziraphale “coming out strong and shining”. You added that in. I think it's wonderful that you want to see that for him (so do I) but that’s not what this person was saying.

If they'd said that, I wouldn't object to it at all. But they didn't. That part was left out. Which I think may be very telling in itself.

There are a myriad of reasons someone could have that desire, including having gone through something similar themselves.

Having gone through something similar doesn’t necessarily mean it makes sense for another character. It also doesn’t mean it’s necessary. And having been through something that went a certain way does NOT mean that it happening that way makes sense for someone else.

Deconstruction from a religious upbringing is different from leaving an ab*sive relationship

Aziraphale doesn’t have religious trauma. (I’m not going to talk much about religious trauma and deconstruction here, because it’s outside the scope of this blog, largely because - as attested by no less an authority than Neil Himself - Good Omens is not about religion. But I’ll say a little bit.)

Heaven and hell are not a “religion” in his world - they’re real. His fear of hell (and of heaven) is absolutely, one hundred percent, completely legitimate and appropriate, and NOT something he should be “reasoned” out of. Saying otherwise gives “your ab*ser isn’t actually that evil and scary”. But regardless, in either scenario, that kind of traumatic personal crisis is not a necessary part of the healing process. My heart aches for all the people whose deconstruction process was emotionally shattering. But what makes it ache even more is how for so many of them, the takeaway is somehow that that kind of crisis is necessary - rather than "dear god, i hope no one else ever has to go through that kind of hideous experience to get away from their shitty religion", which surely is what the takeaway should be (assuming there even is a lesson to be learned at all from an experience like that, which is doubtful) - and they go on to demand it of other survivors and gatekeep against people who haven't gone through the exact same thing they did in the process of getting away.

How, HOW did we get to the point where so many people’s deconstruction has been such a fucked-up, scarring experience that we think it’s inevitable for deconstruction to be that way????? I grieve.

I know the idea of killing one’s old self is inherently wrong to many people.

It’s not about whether it’s wrong. If that's valid for someone and they get where they need to go - you do you. It’s about the fact that it’s painful and it’s unnecessary to the process of growth.

Furthermore, it is the kind of thing ab*sers WANT to see happen to their victims when they leave. They want victims to think that they have to have that kind of crisis if they want to leave them. Because then they’re less likely to leave. When we encourage that kind of thinking, we are playing directly into their hands.

What should happen is that the victim should be given the opportunity to realize that all along there was much more to them than their ab*ser.

I don’t personally desire to watch Aziraphale do that, especially because there are so many wonderful aspects of the Angel he’s been since the beginning

Agreed.

But fwiw, this is giving a faint whiff of perfect victim syndrome. Even if he were an asshole, he still deserves to just have his ab*sers leave him alone, not to have some kind of shattering, soul-crushing emotional breakdown. They will always, always be worse than him.

but it’s not wrong to want to see that. People do go through it, and their stories are incredibly compelling.

I don’t disagree. For me it’s rather about the place this is coming from. OP was saying it’s necessary. There’s a difference between wanting to see a show address this issue overall because it’s interesting, and demanding that a specific character go through it because you think it’s necessary or that their process of leaving and healing won't be legitimate (or whatever word we wanna use) if it doesn't happen. And, as you said, it doesn’t make sense for Aziraphale. If the character is an asshole, I’d be able to see it a little more (although again, I still very much question the entire idea in the first place) But not for him. I find anyone’s thinking it “makes sense” for him highly questionable.

I know Aziraphale is much more than a character to many people

Speaking as a (very, very, very slightly, lol) professional writer and actor - every character should be “more than a character”, if they’re well-written. They should feel real if the writer and/or actor has done their job well. I like NG's line that "If you write someone who is utterly and completely themselves, you get people coming up to you and going 'Oh my God, you wrote my life!'

a desire to watch him go through a psychological breakdown is not some poorly concealed desire to watch real people go through that.

It may or may not be. I agree it isn't always.

In this person’s case, though, I very much did get concerning vibes.

(As an ab*se survivor, you start to know the vibe of victim-blamers after awhile.)

Regardless, though, the way we respond to characters is the way we respond to people in real life. Story is a primary vehicle through which people learn how to interact with one another and their environment. If it wasn’t, discussing media along these lines would be pointless, and I'd just spend all my time talking about how good David Tennant looks in those tight pants 😁 Or, probably, I would take up a different hobby altogether.

I wouldn’t have wasted my time starting this blog if the things people say about this story and especially about Aziraphale didn’t have real-world applications (not to mention making a lot of ab*se survivors feel very unsafe in the fandom - before we turned off anonymous asks, I got an average of two messages a day from ab*se survivors and other oppressed people telling them how this blog has made them feel so much safer in the fandom) - and if their views about the characters didn’t mirror the kinds of things they’d say about people in real life. (All the anti-Aziraphale autiphobic takes come to mind.) I flatter myself I have enough judgment that those takes wouldn't have troubled me so deeply if they weren't reflective of real-world societal problems and indicative of problematic attitudes in the people who right them.

In this case, the wording is identical to the kinds of problematic things people say about real-life victims/survivors. Yes, the person may not actually consciously want (or want at all) to see real-life ab*se victims/survivors suffer. But I absolutely, one hundred per cent guarantee you that anyone saying this has some major problematic biases/assumptions they need to work on that are contributing to how ab*se survivors are maligned, degraded, and oppressed in our society. (I never want to see Disabled people suffer, but if I say ableist things, I’m contributing to it whether I mean to or not. I may not want to see women suffer, I am a woman, well more or less anyway lol, and I've identified as a feminist my entire adult life, but nevertheles there have certainly been times in the past when I've said sexist things. It's something all of us will always have to be vigilant against in ourselves. I suspect at this point I'm preaching to the choir, because you do not strike me at all as a bigoted or ignorant person, but I figured I'd re-iterate all that again anyway, because screaming it through a megaphone as often as possible is what this blog is for lol.)

And what’s worse, they are spreading that rhetoric. I’ll be damned if I’ll let it go by without saying something.

Hope this makes sense and cleared some things up.

With love and respect,

Mod X.

#good omens #goodomens #aziraphale #good omens 2 #badaziraphaletakes #goodomens2 #ineffable husbands #cw: abuse #cw: trauma #cw: religious trauma

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