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bbangsoonie · 3 years

Text

goal: your heart

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 5,423 synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.

a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.

Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.

But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.

Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”

“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”

“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.

“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”

The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.

Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.

A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.

You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.

“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.

“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”

“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.

“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.

The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.

“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.

To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.

Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.

“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.

Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.

“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.

“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.

“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.

“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.

Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.

Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.

Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.

When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.

“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.

You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.

“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.

“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.

“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.

Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.

“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.

“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.

“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”

“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.

“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.

“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.

“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”

Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.

He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.

“Oh, so you do think?”

“Hey!”

“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”

“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”

“How do you know I’m the president?”

“I asked around.”

You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.

You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.

“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”

After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”

He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”

“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.

The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.

He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.

Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.

Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.

Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.

His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”

“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.

You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.

Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.

“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.

“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.

“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.

“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.

“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”

You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.

“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.

He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.

Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.

The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.

You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.

After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.

You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.

“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.

A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.

“A challenge to be anticipated.”

“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”

“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”

“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”

“Damn so she rejected me for him?”

Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.

“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.

“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.

“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.

You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.

Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.

You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.

You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.

This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.

“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.

“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.

“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”

His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.

“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.

“Anything. Everything.”

So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.

You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.

With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.

But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.

Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.

“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.

“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”

You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.

When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.

“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.

“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”

Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.

Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.

As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.

Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.

Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.

Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.

Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”

“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.

“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.

“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”

Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.

That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.

“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.

This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.

Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.

So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.

“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.

Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.

You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”

Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.

The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented.

“Only today?” you laughed.

“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you drunk?” you blinked.

“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”

His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.

“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.

So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.

The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.

Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.

Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.

“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.

“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.

The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.

Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.

Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.

KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?

You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.

A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?

You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.

“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”

“Wow she clearly has a type.”

“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”

“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”

“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”

“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”

“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”

Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.

Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.

“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.

“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.

“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”

“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”

“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.

“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.

Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.

“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.

“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”

“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.

You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”

And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.

“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”

“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.

“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.

“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.

“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.

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hedgehog-moss · 3 years

Note

I saw your post about ecofeminism. Could you recommend some books or essays about animals? Like about anything wrt animals. Possibly something discursive or philosophical or even aesthetic. Does that make sense? I am really interested and would be grateful if you know of any reading material.

Paul Kingsnorth’s essay “In the Black Chamber” (on animal de-extinction, mostly)

The article “Do Elephants Have Souls?” in the New Atlantis

Helen Macdonald’s Vesper Flights

Later [swifts] gather higher in the sky, their calls now so attenuated by air and distance that to the ear they corrode into something that seems less than sound, to suspicions of dust and glass. And then, all at once, as if summoned by a call or a bell, they fall silent and rise higher and higher until they disappear from view. These ascents are called vesper flights, after the Latin vesper for evening. Vespers are evening devotional prayers, the last and most solemn of the day, and I have always thought “vesper flights” the most beautiful phrase, an ever-falling blue.

J.B. MacKinnon’s The Once and Future World: Nature As It Was, As It Is, As It Could Be

Carl Safina’s Beyond Words: What Animals Think and Feel (I’m currently reading this one and it reminded me of your ask—which you sent such a while ago, I’m so sorry! Halfway through this book I suddenly thought “oh, I think I got an anon at one point who might be interested in this?”)

Philip Cafaro’s essay “For a species’ right to exist” (arguing that we should establish animals’ legal right to exist and exploring the consequences of this idea)

Sooyong Park’s Great Soul of Siberia (I like how he’s hoping to see tigers but, in the meantime, observes the activities of a mouse with equal interest)

Peter Godfrey-Smith’s Other Minds: The Octopus, the Sea and the Deep Origins of Consciousness

Cephalopods are an island of mental complexity in the sea of invertebrate animals. Because our most recent common ancestor was so simple and lies so far back, cephalopods are an independent experiment in the evolution of large brains and complex behavior. If we can make contact with cephalopods as sentient beings, it is not because of a shared history, not because of kinship, but because evolution built minds twice over. This is probably the closest we will come to meeting an intelligent alien.

Diane Ackerman’s The Moon By Whale Light

On my to-read list: Peter Wohlleben’s The Secret Network of Nature: The Delicate Balance of All Living Things

J.A. Baker’s The Peregrine

John Gray, Feline Philosophy: Cats and the Meaning of Life (basically a cat-flavoured intro to philosophy)

Unlike dogs, cats have not become part-human. They [...] are other than us in the deepest levels of their being. Having entered the human world, they allow us to look beyond it. [...] Feline ethics is a kind of selfless egoism. Cats are egoists in that they care only for themselves and others they love. They are selfless in that they have no image of themselves they seek to preserve and augment. Cats live not by being selfish but by selflessly being themselves.

Elisabeth Tova Bailey’s The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating (ah, I keep recommending this one. It’s so sweet. I love snails.)

Jonathan Balcombe’s What A Fish Knows (here’s my favourite part!)

I did not enjoy Elizabeth Marshall Thomas’ The Hidden Life of Deer all that much, but I liked this observation:

A useful way to look at another life-form is to assume that whatever it may be doing—chewing bark, digging a tiny hole, wrapping itself in a leaf, sending up a sprout, turning its leaves to face the sunlight—it is trying to achieve a goal that you, in your way, would also want to achieve. In fact, you can be sure of that. The closer you are taxonomically to what you are looking at, the more likely you are to recognize what it’s goals might be, and the further you are, the less likely. Either way it’s fascinating.

[The sentiment expressed here is also explored at length in Andreas Weber’s Biology of Wonder: Aliveness, Feeling and the Metamorphosis of Science—but it is about the living world as a whole rather than specifically about animals]

#book recs

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fellowstrangetownappreciator · 3 years

Text

Curious and autistic-coded

Hello there! April draws to an end and with that I think it’s high time to hurry up and write this. What does April have to do with anything, you ask? April is the Autism Acceptance Month. So what better month to do this?

Unfortunately I didn’t make it. I failed. It’s already 1. 5. when I’m posting this. But at least I tried to deliver on time.

In this mini essay I’ll present my case about why I think the Curious brothers from TS2 Strangetown display autistic-coded traits and my personal takes on it.

It’s basically your average headcanon post but with a funny top hat!

0: Preface: What do I mean by “autistic-coded”?

When a character is coded as something, it means that they have traits that are associated with the demographics in question to make the consumer knowingly or not link the character with the demographic, although the character's "label” is never explicitly disclosed.

In the nutshell, it means that there are canonical reasons to read the characters as autistic, although you won't find the word "autism" anywhere in the game nor in the developer's commentary.

In this particular case I do believe that the developer may not even be aware of the code, as there is no evidence to suggest otherwise. If there is, I’m not aware of it and I would be happy to learn.

So, let’s start!

1: “The white male who is very good at science”

Unfortunately autistic representation in pop-culture has a long history of being rather straightforward in which traits the characters often have. This stems from the belief that autism is “a boy’s disorder” (that’s why some autism charities to this day use blue in their symbols). Among popular examples of autistic-coded characters are Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper and Death Note’s L and Near. I’m sure you can think of more but you’ll find that most of them are men and either explicitly white or racially ambiguous white-passing. They also tend to be gifted in tech, logic or other science-y activities.

There’s nothing wrong with that! Nothing wrong with being an autistic with those “stereotypical” characteristics and there is nothing wrong with people being represented. What is wrong is the monotony and afab people/people of color being underrepresented which leads (among other factors) to harder access to diagnosis and resources for those people in real life. But! That’s a topic for a different day. (and not for a simbrl, mind you)

Back to the Curiouses! I just wanted to say that autism in media is traditionally associated with characters whose gender presentation, race and interests align with theirs. Those characteristic thus make a very convenient template for autistic-coding.

2: Inconsistent performance, huge gaps between strengths and weaknesses

Pascal, Vidcund and Lazlo are very skilled Sims by default, extraordinarily even for their age. Pascal has a skill maxed while his younger brothers both near maxing theirs.

But as you can see in Pascal’s default skill panel, apart from Creativity, all his other skills are extremely low, 0 points for Mechanical, Body and Charisma, 1 point for Cooking and Logic and his second best skill, Cleaning, has only 3 points. The same situation can be observed in Vidcund’s and Lazlo’s, except their strong suits are Logic and Cooking respectively.

Huge discrepancies within performance in different cognitive areas is a common trait found in those on the autism spectrum. We’re often talking extremes here and the scale of the difference is the defining factor. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, it’s just in neurodivergent people those tend to be unusually noticeable.

I think that skills, simplified as they are, are the closest The Sims has to possibly simulate that because they track the character’s performance and expertise in different areas and allow comparison. In real life, of course, this comparison is not nearly as possible and exact, nor desired, but for all our analysis-loving enthusiasm, here we’re still talking fictional characters.

3: Struggle with social cues

It is widely known that one of autistic traits are difficulties with processing social situations, picking social cues and successfully replicating socially desired behavioral patterns.

But these three are Sims, are they not? They cannot possibly display this trait, since they’re programmed the same way as others.

Yes and no.

It is true that there is no specific in-game feature that would allow Sims to behave with explicit neurodivergency in mind* but with the right combination of traits they can simulate behavior that really hits close to home for neurodivergent players.

*at least not in TS2, TS3 has traits that simulate some possible neurodivergencies but their names tend to be rather... ableist unfortunate and they’re not relevant to this post since they’re not autism related, and even if they were, we’re focusing on TS2 exclusively

Let’s take look at Lazlo here. He is, indeed, a playful soul. He likes to goof around, tell jokes, make others laugh. And since he’s very close to his brother Vidcund, close enough even to Tell Dirty Joke (an interaction that needs quite a high relationship to unlock), he autonomously does just that.

And oh boy, does Vidcund disapprove.

From my personal experience playing them, their relationship usually takes quite a hit from every cheeky joke Lazlo throws Vid’s way. They usually autonomously repair it very quick but it happens often.

But that’s a standard behavior. Vidcund’s very serious, he doesn’t take well to jokes.

No. I mean technically yes, Vid is definitely a grumpy old plant dad but, at least in my game, he tends to accept Lazlo’s jokes. All kinds of them, actually, except for the dirty ones. And Pascal, who technically has even lower Playful points (0 in comparison to Vidcund’s 4), doesn’t seem to mind Lazlo’s poor attempts at grown-up humor.

But! What is it that makes Lazlo try still? What drives him to attempt to make Vidcund laugh with a dirty joke over and over again? (and fail?)

I my interpretation, Lazlo doesn’t do that on purpose, he is just really poor at evaluating “dirtiness” of a given joke and frequently misinterprets Vidcund’s cues. The animation of a dirty joke being rejected even supports that as Vid doesn’t signal his discomfort with any exaggerated easy-to-read facial expression until Lazlo gets to his punchline.

No only that but as I mentioned, the invisible lines between spicy and too vulgar are often hard to thread. I can recall many times I thought I was saying a witty quip on an “adult” topic and was met with awkward silence or someone shushing me because “that’s not how you speak in public”. I can well imagine myself in Lazlo’s shoes.

A situation of social cues being misinterpreted or ignored can be observed also in Vidcund. Programming-wise, those are just his low Niceness and extreme Shyness showing but combined they again paint a picture of a very neurodivergent-looking behavioral pattern.

He often behaves like the concept of politeness or social rules doesn’t exist because the combination of the aforementioned traits makes him come off very blunt (lecturing and shoving telescope-peepers with no warning whatsoever) and distant (having a high chance of rejecting simple small-talk socials).

(That’s Jasmine Rai casting the “Summon Vidcund” spell.)

Yes, I am fully aware that it makes a stronger case for him being an a**hole than autistic but... there’s no reason he can’t be both. Not all autistic people are sweet cinnamon buns, all personalities you can think of can be neurodiverse and, for some their neurodiversity can even amplify their inconsiderate ways, as I believe it is the case with our dear grouch Vidcund.

4. Their bios

“No matter what happens, Pascal believes there is a logical explanation for everything. In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis and collects conspiracy theories.”

(that’s how I imagine practicing psychoanalysis looks like, sorry Freud)

“Serious and exact, Vidcund strives to fit the universe into a nice tidy package. He has an unnatural fondness for African violets.”

(let’s collectively pretend those are African violets)

“Not as studious as his older brothers, Lazlo got his degree in Phrenology. He likes to call phone psychics and spends hours trying to bend forks with his mind.”

*error: screenshot of Lazlo bending forks not found*

(but here he is hanging out with Erin Beaker, the closest thing to “calling phone psychics” you can actually do in-game)

Both Pascal’s and Vidcund’s bios point to a pattern-focused worldview with a strong emphasis on rationality as the center-point that anchors the way they understand the world around them and build their principles on. This “pattern-ization” of thinking is a common autistic trait, with rationality being a popular theme because emotions tend to be difficult to access and asses for many of us.

Lazlo’s biography is an outlier. But it still has something significant in common with those of his brothers: All three of their bios allude to a potential special interest of sorts.

Special interests as an autism-related term are very specific, in-depth and long-term hobbies or areas of expertise that make an autistic person happy and they tend to go to seemingly exhausting lengths, often at the cost of other areas of knowledge and most likely the person’s ability to talk about anything else for a long enough time. (a loving hyperbole, no disrespect meant) Mine are my characters and cats. An even more intense but a short(er)-term passion is called a hyperfixation.

Them potentially having a special interest is yet another possible autistic-coded feature.

5. Wait. Why does it matter?

Right. What does it matter if a Sim (A SIM) (or two or three) is autistic? What do I hope to achieve, pushing my autistic Curiouses agenda down your throats?

I got to write a long rant-piece about some of my favorite TS characters and I feel like I can finally die satisfied.

Apart from that and me sharing my happiness of finding some good pixels I can relate to, it is a matter of representation.

Remember by the very beginning I wrote how most of the representation our community gets in media tends to be just a one specific type of character?

And how the Curious brothers seem to fit the stereotype to a point?

There is something I omitted, something I saved for the last on purpose.

The role. The role in their story, the role in the society the piece of media portrays.

We often see neurodiverse, autistic or autistic-coded character as children, students, villains, lone savants, victims in distress, comedic relief sidekicks, either very vulnerable and needing protection, or detached and having their role defined only by their academic prowess or their special interest/profession.

What we rarely get to see them as, are... parents.

That’s what many of us autistics are or plan to be someday in the future. The dogma around autism has started to dwindle relatively recently and there are little to no examples of autistic adults being the care-givers for once in the media around us.

The Curious brothers are just that. They are chaotic, they are eccentric, they can be a little too much... but they are dutiful and loving fathers/uncles to their little aliens they raise.

They make it work. Even if they face difficulties, even if they don’t exactly fit the standard.

“Sometimes, a family truly can be three brothers raising alien babies, and it’s beautiful.”

It encourages us to define family by love rather than traditional structures and it shows us that portrait of a functional neurodiverse family we need to see.

And goodness, is it a powerful sight.

#the sims 2 #the sims #ts2 #simbrl #pascal curious #vidcund curious #lazlo curious #autism acceptence month #headcanon #actuallyautistic #autistic curiouses agenda #please someone take tumbrl from me

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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Hi Mojo, I also wanted to share my thoughts on this concrit and commenting discussion, particularly the etiquette of asking permission before identifying racism part. I think there are two conversations here: the concrit and comment etiquette on fics, and POC being able to speak up without having to adhere to etiquette. Of course you can stop reading this message if you would like to as I’m mindful of your argument that you should ask permission first. But if you could read this (not even publish!) then that would be appreciated.

I am a Chinese diaspora. As a Chinese diaspora your comments affected me rather more than I expected them to. I’m being really careful about my own tone right now - because I’m worried that if I come across as angry or even remotely impolite, that my message might get dismissed by a reader thinking I’m just angry and reactive. I’m coming from a personal perspective on this, but I can’t not make it personal as this is something that affects me, and my friends and family, as people.

With your message to be kind in all interactions with authors, all that runs through my mind is the implication that as a POC person, is is MY job to be kind and understanding and polite, and it MY job to willingly teach another person of how their actions and words have impacted me. That if I am angry or offended and speak in a less than nice tone, that somehow this is a petty tit-for-tat move on my part? Of course in an ideal situation we should not react emotionally - but I can’t be expected to stay unemotional in the face of micro aggression and racism, even if it was not meant to be malicious. I’m sure your intention wasn’t this but then the idea that WE must then kindly educate the racist party (accidentally or otherwise) is a huge emotional and mental burden that we can’t be expected to partake in every time.

I know I cannot say ‘us’ in this situation, but this isn’t an issue that only affects an individual. I KNOW I am only one person. I know I may not be the ‘mouthpiece’, as you said, for everyone who is Chinese diaspora. But I can say for certain that I share the same lived experiences of at least some who will agree with me. I’m challenging the idea that an individual can’t be somewhat reflective of a population - otherwise it would be ridiculous to suggest that all people of a similar background must agree on everything and have a spokesperson.

I’m also sure you didn’t mean to or I could be wrong, but I get the sense that you are considering this issue predominately from the perspective of a non-POC (non-Chinese, in this case) author and how we should try not to upset them. It feels that we must consider that the author is coming from a place of no bad intentions or malice and must therefore speak to them in that way - but that is a very idealistic process that POCs and marginalised people can’t always rely on. Ignorance - especially wilful - can be just as harmful and hurtful as direct aggression.

Luckily my experiences in this fandom has demonstrated that authors who are non-Chinese or POC almost always start their fics with an apology and a reassurance that they are receptive to corrections of any cultural inaccuracies they may have. And I think that this is the crux of the etiquette issue that we shouldn’t offer unsolicited criticism without first asking permission. These authors have acknowledged their different background and own potential shortcomings and are open to criticism in this aspect. In these more common cases, there is of course no need to ask for permission - the author has already anticipated conversation around this.

The etiquette issue is when an author has not prefaced their work with this sort of disclaimer - and I am aware it may be unfair to expect this of all fic writers. That’s where this issue of etiquette comes up. The author hasn’t appeared to welcome comments on cultural insensitivity - so I have to think about if I now need to ask nicely for permission to speak. As a reader, specially as a Chinese diaspora, if cultural insensitivity or discrepancies appear without the disclaimer of ‘please let me know if there are any inaccuracies’ then the implication may be that the author simply didn’t care or bother about offending anyone. If they do, then I know it’s just a mistake and that they haven’t been dismissive or uncaring. Without it, the authors intentions become much more ambiguous.

Even worse is when an author blatantly says they’ve made mistakes or haven’t researched and don’t care for feedback. My culture and heritage isn’t a playground for you, and I don’t think fic writers should be exempt from being respectful for the sake of a quick fic.

Like I said earlier, this is not a hypothetical exercise for POC. We’re faced with microaggressions constantly in our real lives, so our patience for this sort of situation runs a bit thin and it is difficult not to react with emotion. I also dislike the idea that I need to ask permission to speak about something that impacts me so profoundly.

A message to prefaces a written piece of work saying that the author is not of that ethnicity or culture and that they welcome comments to fix it always helps. Then the lines of communication aren’t blurred and the onus doesn’t fall on the marginalised or POC to become a teacher.

Mojo, this is actually the second draft of a message to you. I have spent over an hour and a half of my time crafting this message - trying to get the tone right, trying not to come across angry or impolite, trying to say everything I want to say. Your replies to the blogger in the replies of one of the last anons was what really sparked this huge essay- I came away from reading them really effected, and not knowing why I was upset by it. I think you really missed the point that they were trying to say - that obviously, unsolicited criticism can be hurtful and unnecessary, but valid criticism of hurtful practices should not be shut down. Instead, you explained (and I know interpreting tone through text is difficult but I could not read it in a non-patronising way) that in short, if I am mean because they’ve been (allegedly accidentally) mean first then I shouldn’t expect them to listen to any of my concerns or understand why I was upset. Because I was mean back. For me, this felt like a dismissal of something that is profoundly more complex - that it wasn’t a conversation about etiquette anymore, but somehow became one about silencing marginalised people and coddling fragile white egos.

Mojo, I’ve followed you for ages and love all the content and hard work you put out and am infinitely and considerably grateful for your achievements. You are truly a wonderful person with such great ideas and intentions. The fandom would suffer greatly without your dedication. It’s just that on this occasion I think you may have missed the mark a little and had to say something. Others may not agree with me, I know, but I hope you have at least read this.

Lots of love, from a follower

Let me start by saying that I’m very sorry you felt you had to moderate your tone so much in order to be heard. I really do strive to make my blog a welcoming environment for everybody, and I regret that you’ve felt excluded: that was never my intention. I am always interested in everyone's point of view.

You've got some really great and specific points here that I think will be helpful to all authors in this fandom -- like ways to introduce your fic and/or be respectful as well as small things that come across as offensive.

The conversation this morning veered way off track from bookmarks to racism, and like I said then, I am not qualified to talk about that. I do not have your history or your experiences: all I can do is listen and empathize and learn. Which I try to do!

What I am qualified to discuss is how writers might respond to comments: I've had lots of experience with that! So my point is: if you approach an author with anger, they are very likely to close themselves off to you. I'm not attaching a value judgement to that, to say that they are right or wrong to do so... it's just a statement based on my observations over many years.

I can imagine how easily a lifetime of tiny (and large) insults and slights would build up and spill over in anger, frustration and resentment. That's very human. Please don't think that I am belittling or denying your experience or your right to feel this way, because I am not.

I respect you. I respect your experience. I respect your right to be angry and to talk about it. Period. I really, really do. I think it's important for your voice to be heard: this is how you feel valid as a person with your feelings, and it's how other people learn!

So let's go back to reading a fic where you find portions (or all) of it racist or insensitive or culturally tone deaf. What is your goal? I ask this just as a student of psychology (and also a parent). Do you want to educate them, or to shame them? Again, I'm not attaching a value judgement to either response. The way you introduce your topic will affect how the author will react. It's not about 'white fragility'... there's no way for you to know who penned that story, just as there is no way for the author to know anything about you when you comment. This is just about humans and how they interact with each other.

This is tough. This is thorny. THIS IS NOT A SIMPLE MATTER. There are always, always going to exceptions, gray areas and straw men: you (and any reader) should always use your judgement. Are you saying this to someone who is hateful and bigoted and cruel with it? Or are you saying it to a 12-year-old girl from corn fields in Nebraska? Are you unsure?

So this isn't about silencing your voice, not at all. It's about judging who you're speaking to and whether or not they'll hear you.

I absolutely do not think that unsolicited or angry fic comments (or bookmarks) are a productive forum for educating people... if that is your goal. And it may not be, which is fine. As you pointed out, the burden of educating people should not rest solely on you, it shouldn't be your responsibility.

I will say again that a place like this, right here - this very letter which I am answering and publishing - IS a great way to educate people. Use it freely, speak loudly, say your piece and share your experiences. Arrgh, I really hope that doesn't come across as condescending. I'm being utterly sincere. I am nearly 50. I've seen a lot of change happening. This is how it happens.

I do not want to silence your voice - or anyone's voice! I want to hear everyone's opinions and thoughts because that ultimately makes me a more well-rounded and considerate person and the world a better place.

I do however, passionately believe that positive change can be affected best through positive interaction. It's not a rule everyone is required to follow, not at all. But is the one that I speak of, and the one that I try to adhere to.

I could never speak for any minority, to say what you should or shouldn't do - as individuals or as a group. But I can speak from the experiences and feelings of a fic author. That's it, that's the limit of my ability. And you may do with that whatever you feel is right.

Let me wrap this up by saying that I really appreciated this letter and Nonny - you were very brave to throw this out into the forum, thank you! You had some extremely useful and important points that I am very happy to share. I am sorry my comments hurt you, and I hope that you feel a little better now.

Having said all this, I would really not like to start a huge discussion on racism in the fandom. I am the wrong person to conduct that conversation: I don't know enough about it, nor do i have the proper experiences or point of view.

With that, I must go, and I'll see you all tomorrow!

#Anonymous #fandom etiquette #comments #racism in fandom #which I am really not qualified to discuss #but this is an important point of view #that we should all listen to #and I'm grateful that Nonny shared it

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unlikelymilkshakedream · 3 years

Text

A/n: Hello! Here is part 3 for the Charlie Weasley fic I promised. Sorry this took so long. I promised angst, so I'm giving it. Hope you enjoy!

Another day, another exam, or so it seemed that way at Hogwarts. As May came to a close, and June starts, your O.W.L.s were giving you more stress than you had ever felt. Your future was on the line if you didn't do well with your exams.

Not only were your exams crushing you, your relationship had been rocky for a couple of months. After the valentines day dance with your date, Charlie Weasley, nothing could have made your life better. You were dating your best friend, all of your friends supported you, and you had no tests coming up. In other words, very different from your life currently.

You were still technically dating your best friend, but from long classes and homework that came with them, to Charlie's quiditch practices lasting forever in hopes of winning the house cup, you hadn't had time to spend a moment alone together in what felt like years.

Your friends would always be there for you and you knew that, you cared about them with your whole heart and knew they felt the same way, but they had their own exams and futures just as you did. You would never ask them for anything because you didn't want to be a burden.

And of course, your exams. Your dreams of becoming a curse breaker were very important to you. You wanted nothing more than to help people, on top of finding your brother and protecting hogwarts. You were a natural curse breaker so it only makes sense that you would pursue your passion. However, if you wanted to do that, you needed to not only pass your exams, but exceed the expectations.

With that responsibility came nights on end in the library, studying, preparing and hoping that it would all work out. Your exams, finding your brother, hell, even your relationship with Charlie. You knew how rocky it was and you were devastated by that, but you knew if you two truly wanted to, it would work out, or so you hoped.

So, another night in the library, was your fate. You wanted to be with Charlie, but you knew he had quiditch practice, and you had a potions exam in the morning that you weren't ready for. As you flipped through your book, trying to soak up as much information as you could, you didn't notice a certain redhead sneak behind you.

"Hey baby," you felt the hot breathe on your neck and jumped more than out of your skin.

"Blimey Charlie, you scared me." He chuckled as he pulled a chair beside you.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see you after practice, and I haven't seen you all weekend." He smiled at you, which you couldn't help but smile back.

"I know, its just tomorrow starts like the most stressful week of the year. If I don't do well on my exams, my future can be forgotten. Speaking of, I am not ready for potions tomorrow, hence why I'm here." You smiled as you looked back towards your book.

"Hey, you're gonna do great on your exam because you are great, and smart, and beautiful," Charlie said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. "Its just we haven't seen each other in a while, thought i could keep you company." You sighed.

"Look, I know we haven't been the most talkative lately, but what exactly do you want me to say, you know how important this is to me." He put his hand on yours.

"I know, I get it baby, I do, and after this week, we're gonna celebrate." He said with the biggest grin on his face. Suddenly, Madame Pince came around the corner with the dirtiest look on her face.

"Shh!" You smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry Madam-"

"Shh!!!" You sighed as she walked away. You turned back to charlie.

"You better go, I have to study and don't wanna get kicked out." You smiled at him.

"Okay, but I meant what I said about celebrating." He smiled hugley. You returned the smile, only a fraction of what he had given you. That made his smile falter and eventually he turned and walked back to his dorm.

Eventually you had to except the time as 11pm rolled around and Madam Pince kicked you out of the library. You took the book along with all your other stuff and headed towards your common room.

Once you were in, you sat down near the fireplace and opened your potions book once again, flipping to the section about dragon livers and how they were hard to get.

Eventually, you heard the clock strike 2am and had to call it a night. As you closed your booka nd sat back, looking into the fire, you thought of your life as a cursebreaker, how great it would be, how much you wanted to do it, and what you were willing to do to achieve that goal.

As you stood up and headed towards the stairwell, your way was blocked by charlie, the last person you expected to see, especially at this hour.

"Hey, what're you doing up?" Charlie asked groggy.

"I could ask you the same thing. I was just going to bed." You said as you pushed past him and climbed the stairs. He followed you up.

"I thought you'd be up, I was just checking on you." You turned around as you got to the last step before your dorm and smiled.

"Thats sweet, but go back to bed. Goodnight." You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, then headed into your dorm, falling on your bed and instantly falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke at around 8. Shit. You were late. You quickly got up and dressed faster than ever and ran to the dungeons. You mad either to class just in time, not eating or anything.

"Well, well, Ms. Brooks, you have decided to grace us with your presence, how considerate." Snape sneered at you as you walked to your seat beside Rowan, breathing heavily, across the room, you saw Charlie looking worriedly at you, which was the last thing you wanted in that moment.

Once your potion exam was finished, you walked out of the room, feeling exhausted and like you failed. You started walking to your next exam, which was charms, the easiest of your exams. Soon enough a certain redhead caught up with you.

"Hey, y/n, why were you late today?" You turned to him.

"I over slept, which I dont do, so I didn't realize at which point I had to sprint to make it, which I didnt." You sighed tired lying. "Why?"

"Just wondering, I missed you at breakfast. Did you eat anything?" You smiled softly.

"No, I haven't but its fine, look i have to go to charms and I really don't wanna be late again, see you." Without another word from either of you, you walked away to charms.

At charms, you felt most confident of all classes, which honestly wasn't saying a lot. You finished your exam pretty easily and walked to the great hall, intending on studying until your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in an hour. Once the clock struck the time to take your next exam, you left the great hall.

Once you reached DADA, you walked in with Tulip and took your seat. You should feel bad, but you just were so glad charlie wasn't there, staring at you like a sorry case. He meant well and you knew it but you just wanted space.

As you finished your final exam of the day, you headed to the library, studying for transfigurations next. When you reached the library, unfortunately you fell into the same pattern as the previous night, except this time no charlie.

When the clock struck midnight, you went to the dorm room and headed straight for bed, not bothering to study anymore. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining into your window nicely. It was a good way to wake up honestly. You say up and saw Rowan asleep. You figured you had a few minutes before breakfast so you got up and got dressed.

You and Rowan walked to breakfast while revising your transfiguration knowledge. You didn't feel as bad about it as potions but you also didn't feel as great about it as charms. Walking into the great hall, you found Charlie sitting with his younger brothers. You knew you had to go sit with him.

"Hey y/n, how'd you sleep?" Charlie asked as he saw you sit next to him and his brothers giggled at him, to which he sent a dirty look.

"Um, not the best but ye know. Its whatever." As you sat down you ate the blandest breakfast ever, granola and coffee, it would just have to do for today.

"Are you guys ready for the big game tomorrow night?" Fred asked the table. You looked at him with a confused expression whereas everyone else seemed to understand.

"What game fred?" He turned to you.

"Uh, the house cup game, we are so gonna kick hufflepuffs ass." Ah.

"Right, good luck." Charlie turned to you.

"You'll come right love? What me win?" You smiled as you sipped your coffee.

"Uh yeah, maybe, I might have to study for History of magic but we'll see." Charlie stopped.

"Y/n, you can't miss the game, its only the biggest game of the year. Please come." Ugh when he gave you those puppy dog eyes, you knew you were done for.

"Okay, yes I will go, of course I will." You smiled and kissed his cheek.

As breakfast finished and you and Rowan made your way to transfiguration, you felt confident in the upcoming essay. Going over info with Rowan definitely helped.

Once you were finished with the exam, you went to the great hall, being assigned twenty five inches of parchment for the second half of the exam was not ideal. You were stressed out, but at least you only had care of magical creatures left for the day, something you were sure you'd excel in thanks to charlie.

As you walked down the grounds for your exam, you felt very confident that you'd do well. Your confidence was correctly placed as you walked to the common room to start on you parchment for transfiguration, doing very well on your exam in care of magical creatures.

The real problems didn't start until the following day, charlies big game was today and you hadn't made a dent in your parchment, due to not being able to focus and eventually falling asleep far earlier than you would have liked. Today you had exams in astronomy, history of magic and a regular potions class. You were extremely busy today, it didn't help you woke up 20 minutes before your exam in astronomy so you had to sprint once again to be on time.

Once you were seated in astronomy, your exam begun and you didnt feel very confident. You gave it your all and after about 75 minutes, you were done. You walked out and saw your boyfriend charlie who lit up when he saw you. You walked over to him with a small smile on your face.

"Hey babe, whats up?" You asked him.

"Not much now that your hear, just nervous for later." You looked at his smiling face confused.

"Later?" His smile dropped. You had forgotten about the quitditch match.

"The match that determines who wins the house cup? I thought you were coming, its really important to me." Shit. Right, yeah of course you would go.

"Right, of course I will be there, sorry I'm just tired you know how it is. I will be there, but right now I have to go to potions, ill see you later." Damn, how had you forgotten?

Potions seemed to last forever as Snape lectured on Beatle brains, you swore you were going to die of boredom, all you wanted to do was study for history of magic.

When class was finally dismissed, you headed straight for the library, not having your final exam for an hour and a half. When you sat down in the library, you immediately fell into studying, the time slipping by quickly until it was time to go to your exam.

Arriving to your exam, you set your things down and got ready for it, feeling confident as you had spent a lot of time studying for this. You finished your exam in 65 minutes and headed to the great hall, feeling hungry.

When you got to the great hall and saw what was happening inside, all hunger left your body.

Shit.

Inside, Gryffindor students were celebrating the win of the house cup, you had forgotten the game. You walked in to the great hall and saw Charlie, held up by his teammates above everyone like a king. You smiled at how happy he looked, but when he saw you, its like every drop of happiness was taken from him and you felt your heart break.

Charlie told his team mates to let him down which they did as he made his way over to you, looking hurt and disappointed. You couldn't do much besides stand there and look at him sheepishly.

"Y/n, why didn't you come to the game, you knew how important it was to me and how much I could have used your support." He said loudly, causing those near you to look on at the conversation.

"Charlie, can we go in the hallway?" He looked pissed but didn't object. Once you were away from everyone, you turned to him.

"Charlie, I am so sorry I didn't go to your game, I was in the library studying and the time just got away from me and before I knew it I had to go to my exam and I completely forgot l. I'm so sorry. But you won anyway so you didn't need me at all, cause your just that good." You said with a smile, trying to defuse his anger. It didn't work.

"Y/n, that's not the point, you said you would be there and I wanted you there. You didn't need to study for your exam, you've been studying all week, this is all I asked of you and you couldn't even give me this." As he finished, you felt sorrow drain and anger rise.

"What exactly do you mean I didnt need to study for my exam? I have been studying all week, unlike you, because I care about getting good grades. You know how badly I need to do on my exams to have a future! I didnt go to your match, because I wanted to make sure I did well. I apologized but now your being irrational." He scoffed.

"Irrational? I asked one thing of you, I asked you to attend a quiditch match to support your boyfriend, but apparently if it doesn't benefit you, it doesn't matter, huh is that it?" You were now fully screaming at each other, thank god the hallway was deserted.

"Are you serious? You know maybe if you cared more about your future and grades like I do, you would see where I'm coming from, but all you care about is a God damn match and dragons! No wonder we've been like this for months. You say im selfish, I've done everything for you. I miss one thing and the worlds over to you." Charlie turned away and scoffed.

"You're right, we have been like this for a long time, because we just don't work anymore." You froze. "Y/n, you can't even support your own boyfriend, you care more about tests than anything, this clearly isn't working." You looked at him while a tear rolled down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away. You didn't want to break up with Charlie, God no. But he didn't seem to want to stay together.

"Charlie, it's not like that, you know how stressed I've been, I'm sorry I didn't come to your game, I truly meant to go. I care a lot about my future, but you don't and thats not on me. You can't put this on me, its not just the match, you've been like this ever since the dance, its not only me." More tears rolled down your cheeks as one slid out from his eye.

"Y/n, this just isn't working, I'm sorry." No, God no please.

"Charlie, no, please, don't do this. I swear I-" he cut you off.

"I'm sorry, its already done." He turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in an empty corridor, feeling your heart leaving your soul. You don't know how it happened, you don't know where it went wrong. Was it truly the match? Or was it ever since the day of the dance? Did he even ever like you?

As you stood in that corridor, you felt cold, you felt like you soul left you. You watched him walk away and eventually out of eyesight, thinking about how you would never feel his kiss again, never feel the comfort of his embrace, never feel his love again.

You didn't want this, God no, but your gut told you it had to happen, you just wish it didn't hurt this much. As you wrapped your arms around yourself and sank to the floor with tears on your face, you felt nothing but hollow, wishing the presence of charlie was still there. Wishing he could hold you and tell you he loved you again, as you loved him still.

You didn't know how you were going to go on without him, but you knew one thing for sure, the last thing you cared about was your fucking grades, because you just lost the best thing in your life.

A/n: okay, sorry this took so long, I suck i know! Im sorry this was shitty, I will try to finish the series relatively soon, there will be 2 more parts. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley angst #hphm #hphm mc #harry potter

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hermette-historian · 3 years

Note

I AM going to ask about your extremely strong feelings on academic competition, it both sounds interesting and it's also healthy to write out your feelings, even more if it's something that's personally tiring/upsetting. Just to let it all out, yknow? Of course, feel free to ignore this ask if you don't have the time and/or if it's none of our business to know u-u - 🌻

I can promise you, you’re about to wish you hadn’t asked.

I have thoughts.

For people relying on me to stick absolutely solely to Hermitcraft on this blog, I’m sorry in advance for I am but a human.

First, let’s ruminate a little bit upon why it is that I have thoughts. I attended a very large, extremely competitive public high school in the US, and I now attend an even more competitive, very small private university. Somehow not as much of a culture shock as you would think.

I, like so many of you, was designated gifted kid as a child and rode that wave all the way through high school. Only somehow, I managed to not raise any mental health alarms along the way. Absolutely smooth sailing. Crazy, right? Only it really wasn’t.

The first sign that I was destined to clash violently with the established world of academic hierarchy and resulting social superiority was eighth grade, when I had to schedule into my first high school classes. We actually had the option to take an AP class-World History. We were blanket advised to not take world history because it was a massive jump in workload from even the most difficult middle school courses, but most of my friends believed themselves to be able to handle it so they disregarded the advice. I did not sign up for AP World History that year, or any year after that. I probably could have handled it, but quite simply I was not interested. I had no drive to learn history at that point in my life. Why would I go the extra mile to do it?

I cannot exaggerate enough how unpopular this decision was. While my parents had my back then and now in the path this set me on, the people I chose to associate myself with could at no point get it through their heads that choosing something other than the highest grade of rigor for a reason other than “you’re just not smart enough” was even an option. And that sucked. It sucked for them, victims of culture and structure, and it sucked for me, a victim of their endless condescension.

I stuck to my guns all the way through high school. I took high-rigor courses, sure. I did extracurriculars. I was, and still am, highly self-motivated to achieve academically. But my stubbornness when it came to only taking on things that I was actually interested in (and never, ever taking part in something just for the resumé points) meant that while my peers were taking a full seven-course load of AP honors classes by our senior year, I only had five total.

This competitive culture, not my resumé, made my college application process a living hell. Sure, I had my choice of higher education in the end. But I only applied to six highly-accredited universities that I was actually interested in, while my peers applied to twenty at once just to flex their acceptances. Don’t get me wrong, it broke my heart to see them work so hard on an essay that in the end meant nothing, but holy hell did it turn them into terrible monsters to deal with. Calculus class (which by the way, I finally was persuaded to skip a course in order to take, worst mistake of my life) was regularly derailed by arguments over who out of that selection of 26 was going to get valedictorian. Apparently there was a tie, I wasn’t listening. I finished 70th out of 726, barely making the top 10% with a GPA well over 4.0.

These are the people that I took with me into university, not in body but certainly in spirit. I love my university and wouldn’t trade it for any other choice I could have made. But on days like today, when I’m taking a full load of courses for the second time in the midst of a still-ongoing pandemic, my GPA barely clinging to a 3.0 after two semesters of organic chemistry, three semesters of calculus (yes I had to retake that one attempt from high school) electricity and magnetism, and quantum physics, melting on the floor after a particularly terrible exam, I struggle to step back and realize that I did not come out of there unscathed. Years upon years of relentlessly competing in a race I intentionally didn’t sign up for beat me down and finally broke me. It made me feel like if I wasn’t doing the absolute most, if I wasn’t maxxing myself out taking two majors and two minors and riding for the university team and playing in the orchestra and working 16-hour shifts backstage at the theater and running a goddamn essay blog that I simply wasn’t good enough. That all of the engineers and computer scientists were better than me, smarter than me, that they knew something that I didn’t. That they were doing life right, and I was doing it wrong.

I couldn’t give less of a shit what kind of job I get after I graduate. I’ve been perfectly happy in every minimum wage job I’ve ever had. I’m in this fight because I love to learn-I find myself reading the papers on Asian history now with the same wonder with which I go into a lecture on NMR spectroscopy. I want to know all the things, learn all the languages, I want to understand every bit of the world I live in and even the worlds I don’t. But I’m also human. A human with fears and insecurities and terrible anxiety that comes from being berated and misunderstood and looked down upon for not "doing it right”. Some days, that leaves me writing a passionate blog post or god forbid an instagram comment. And some days, that leaves me in a sobbing puddle on the floor wondering why I’m not good enough, if it’s too late to turn back, and if I’ll ever be able to participate in a society that-if my twenty rejected internship applications are to be believed-requires that I also somehow learn to write code.

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lilylilym · 3 years

Text

On Eren’s choices and Ymir’s curse

Ah, yes, I am back from Attack on Titan hell and I have thoughts. Major spoilers, do not read until you finished the manga.

This essay will be about Eren’s “choices” or the lack thereof when it comes to attacking/defining/reshaping/destroying humanity and how much of this could be read as Ymir’s curses.

First, let’s talk about what undergirds his course of action:

the injustice of historical trauma being justified for modern time apartheid:

Eren traveled long and far to realize how much the Eldian outside of Paradis was being discriminated against and held as noncitizens in multiple lands and nations, so much that they have to renounce their “belonging” to their identity and claim their personhood only “accidental” Eldian and not “truly” one like those from the Paradis island (as seen in

I take that the non-Paradis Eldian resemble the Jewish diaspora in the ways they are persecuted and subjects of ethnic cleansing, and a recent example would be Muslim people, in how they were put into camps all over the world, forced to live in ghettos, hated for the fear of their religion and their gods.

The hatred for Eldians supposedly started because Eldian leaders become power hungry and warmongers who colonized, massacred, and dominated Marleyans for 1,700 years. This is a debt that Eren, unlike Zeke, was NOT ready to pay, given that he is also only an Ymir subject in name like the vast majority of the Eldian population and was not in anyway responsible for the greeds of old, powerful royals. Unlike descendants of King Frizt, whose genealogy comes from passed down memories of literally cannibalism and war crimes for generations that destabilize all the inheritors in fear, shame, and disgust that they would not dare to do anything but die with the memory, Eren is a regular boy with so much indignation, feels so unjust for his loved ones and people who had to bear the cross they didn’t yield. As such, he refuses to see the current treatment of Eldians as just, and this marks the goal (not the solution) of his plan: to not let Paradis Eldians suffer any longer. So he does what he thinks he needs to do in order to advance that goal, all the while NOT KNOWING the outcome, only WISH for it.

Now this is not a metaphor for why Nazis or white settler colonialism and slave owners in North America shouldn’t pay reparations for what their government has done, because their descendants still uphold power over their historically subordinated subjects and perpetuate a system that does so. AND, the main character squads or people we think as ”good guys” here do defy the monarchy and old power toward new future for Eldians, so their refusal to align with old Eldians is nothing sort of revolutionary.

Now let’s talk about Ymir’s will and her curse.

Ymir’s will and the timeloop aka self-fulfilling prophecy and Watchmenian godly time:

If you watch HBO Watchmen (2019) you will know what I mean by godly time. Dr. Manhattan in the show experience all times and all dimensions AT ONCE, so thing happens simultaneously for him in all the worlds he occupies, and he is in every world talking to everyone. Also, he is a god, so he doesn’t follow human emotions, reasons, values, things are just actions set in motions toward outcomes. Nothing matters, because Gods as beings are not a set of ideologies, but circumstances that are willed by people. And humans are trully uncontrollable, ungovernable, down to the last one of them and their human interests.

What does it mean to say that Eren bears the will of god and Ymir?

So Eren went ahead and woke up the Wall Titans to have them rumble the earth. Did he do that because he wants to kill people? He doesn’t will it, but accepts that as a side effect. Did he want to scare other nations? He knows that if he sets this in motion, uncontrollable things would happen, disregards of what he wants or plans. It’s not like he can just reroute the Titans then park them back up in the wall, because there’s no going back, even if time is looping, the future is always in the process of being written. Inevitable, he said, was the course of action that he took and yet he goes through with it because he doesn’t believe in the inevitability of human bowing down to fate. Zeke’s plan was to make all Ymir subject sterile just so they couldn’t reproduce-and Eren thought of Historia and her bloodline that had already defied their fate (of becoming host for the founding Titan thus ends the family affair of eating their family members), and he thought of his parents, and all the comrades whose bloodline ends with them in their quest to freedom. Zeke’s self-imposed role of god of nothing does not interests Eren. He wanted more. And he saw the difficulty of achieving freedom in the last couple years he had when the deep rooted racism against Eldians by the Marleyans were also equipped by state militarism and the overall brainwashing machine in all aspects of life that literally turned children into loyal warriors who want to die violent death and adults who pushed their children there so they can live a sorry ass life. He saw the problem in all, and had no solutions, no moral judgements, only power to rupture this world anew.

At one point, it is the godly power of Ymir that affects Eren, her will that determines what Eren can do based on the memories he could see through her, and she CHOSE destruction. A lot of folks I saw was bewildered by the biggest revealing that Ymir was just an enslaved girl with her tongue cut off and think all was caused by her blind loyalty to her abuser. They also read the Ymir’s curse (die after 13 years) as nonexistent because she’s not a goddess who struck a deal with the earth devil but the first human to be blessed by the gift of life, to regenerate and to change life forms. This is where my reading, I think, will differ from a lot of people.

I dont think Ymir loves the king. I think Ymir’s curse exists. I think she cursed the Eldian king with the thing she knows will destroy all the future generations to come: a monstrous power, a literal man-eating power that will only be used for destruction that so long as anyone has it they become the enemy of humanity. Ymir did not know peace in her entire life, not a single person was nice to her even the slaves, every single one sought out to live a sorry ass life and sacrificed children to avoid violence unleashed onto them. You see that times and times again, from the original story of Ymir being singled out by grown men and women as releasing the pigs, to the men hunting her for sport, to the king using her bodies to the last bone, committing unforgivable violence forcing his daughters to consume her raw flesh, and they grew up to become adults who would make their children eat their raw flesh to generate power. You see that in the story of Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, who became orphaned child soldiers and adults who have seen death around them keep pushing them to be solutions for an ancient crisis even they know nothing about. You see that in the Marleyan Eldians who wish their kids would become warriors so they can become some model minorities and leaving the interment camps. Over, and over again, the cycle of violence is willed and carried out by people, no matter the shapes and forms. Of course, this is a nihilistic view that does not take into account critical perspectives that could work out, realistically, what types of oppressions and injustice that each group deals with (i imagine in real life there would be groups of critical Marleyans who resists their government and other types of social movements in order to end apartheid against the Eldian diaspora, and that Marleyan as a military state does have to rule their subjects with democratic laws and whatnot, but vengeance cannot be a guiding principle for modern society), but to engage in the right and wrong discourse is to literally disregard the entire theme of Attack on Titan.

So for 2000 years Ymir, in the form of an unloved child, consumed by greed and apathy, set into motion that the fate of the Eldian tribe will grow so big, so expansive, so powerful that their enemies will rise somewhere along history. And they will never know peace. Not until she meets another person who rages on her behalf, who understands the pain shes going through, to come and beg her to let go. When Eren comes to tell her she is free, it is not from the bondage of a ruler, a master, but from her bind to what he had done unto her, thats when she can rest. Let me make it clear, Ymir is not a slave to Frizt and the royal family, she is a slave to more than 2000 years of unforgivable injustice and silent scream, when all the people who have been trampled on bear the bloodline that was forcibly taken from her only ask her to help them, and not a single person speaks the truth on her behalf. She rages, and rages, and rages, and the humans created out of her legacy against her will, suffer. And she, the good child that wants freedom for the pigs, at one point believes that for her rage and curse she can no longer be loved. Not until she sees another girl coming to kill the monster who had carried out her will, with love. Eren can be loved, privately, quietly, for all the monstrosity he had unleashed onto humanity. And so can Ymir, be free, be loved, be at peace after all of eternity. She can leave this realm.

I wish Ymir’s perspective could have been shown more through the manga, but I don’t think it is not there. It is also a meta thing for AoT to let readers come up with their own reading of “freedom” and “justice” and ways to repair ancient hate. The events in the book, in a large scale, are not justifications for the actions taken, but rather a set of events that are connected, willed, and carried out against thousands of other possibilities, to the point of inevitable. Choices are always taken with or without true understanding of the context that would define such choices as right or wrong. And if you dig a little deeper, all the contexts that have the power to define decisions as right or wrong end up being created out of ambivalent decisions, as well. So much that the only thing you learn out of this story is this simple truth: attack on titan is the attack on humanity.

#Aot #attack on titan #Snk ending #snk analysis #ymir #eren #snk 139 #ymirs curse

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 4 years

Note

for the quiet night in ask: how did Grima make his way into your heart? And why do you ship him with Eomer? I've been meaning to inquire about this for long hehe (also I love your theme! think this is the first time I see it)

I am so sorry, you’re getting an ESSAY.

I’ve been wanting to talk about my Grima feels FOR SO LONG.

HE SNAKED HIS WAY INTO MY HEART.

Um, tl;dr I have a soft spot for the bad guys who clearly have a complicated history with those they are opposing and I think Eomer/Grima have a fun opposites-attract dynamic and I love a good redemption story.

I don’t touch on literacy and Grima in this because that’s strictly the films and it’s worthy of it’s own post entirely.

I’m trying to think best how to break this all out, because it gets a bit long and rambly. I’m using both book and films for this, as a note. Since I tend to mash up different aspects of those Grima’s in my head, give the guy some eyebrows, and call it a day.

So, first off, his history. Now, we don’t really have anything to go on in canon here. All we know, in both book and film, is that Grima “was once a man of Rohan” (ROTK). In the book, Gandalf says: “This here, is a snake. To slay it [Grima] would be just. But it was not always as it is now. Once it was a man, and it did you service in its fashion.”

Grima evidently has served Rohan for some years at this point. We know that Theoden’s enchantment/possession began three years prior to TTT. In the books there is no possession. Theoden’s enchantment relies on the powers of words and their suggestions. Something Tolkien was well aware of carrying great weight and import in Anglo-Saxon culture. You tell a man he is old and infirm, he will become old and infirm.

I understand why Jackson went the possession route - explaining Anglo-Saxon engagement with galdorcraeft/witchcraft and the power of words etc. and how that influenced the development of Rohan in the span of like 7 minutes of screen time wasn’t happening. Possession works for the same purpose, but in a language the modern audience is familiar with - especially in visual mediums. Grima is circa 40 when TTT happens, same age as Boromir for reference. So, let’s say he’s been an advisor for 10/12 years at this point. He has therefore been a good servant of the king longer than he’s been a traitor.

Hence, the outreach. And, in Brad Dourif’s wonderful acting, Grima’s clear desire to go home to his king. In the book it’s more subtle. Grima chucks the palantir out the window at Orthanc and it’s stated that he wasn’t sure who he was aiming for, Saruman or Gandalf, because he couldn’t decide who he hated more.

Honestly? Legit. I would also hate the guy who reduced me to “it” pronouns. But maybe that’s my gender identity stuff playing up ;)

(Granted, in the full quote Gandalf reverts back to “he”, for context. And I’ve said this before, in another post, that it makes sense for Gandalf and as a writer, I agree with Tolkien’s decisions for that scene.)

Now, for some speculation. Not that I haven’t spilled a tonne already. MORE SPECULATION. This time bringing you long term effects of bullying and never having loving relationships modelled for you! Because LOTR, at the end of the day, is all about trauma and how maybe not to deal with it.

So - motives.

We know Saruman’s motives. Indeed, he tells them to us in FOTRK: “[to] have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see” and to achieve “the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends.”

Great. Super straight forward. And from the man’s own mouth.

Grima’s though, always come to us second hand. In the books it’s Gandalf telling us (Gandalf can mind read, so yes, maybe he is accurate). In the films, it’s Eomer guestimating.

But Grima never actually tells us, himself, what his motives are.

(a quick aside: if some dude is shoving me up against a pole and threatening me, and I hear someone walking by, of course I’m going to look over at them and it by no means indicates my desire to shag that person. Now, of course, we know from other scenes this is the case. I’m just saying. It’s natural to look over at the person walking by while you’re being jumped by the Third Marshal of the Mark who is twice your size. anyway.)

So what are his driving forces for treason? What made him go to this point of no return then keep going even when people offered him a way back.

It is important to note that his treason required him to forswear his oath to his liege lord. I don’t know how to convey what a big deal that would have been, in modern terms. But it would have been huge. Forswearing/reneging on oaths was a massive cultural taboo in Anglo-saxon [AS] England (and general, early medieval Europe).

And, as Rohan is based on AS England (I forget if Tolkien was cagey about this. He was sometimes a dumb shit and coy about things so was like “noooo it’s not STRICTLY AS England….but it’s clearly AS England with more horses and a light dusting of vikings and the Danelaw”), we can assume it carried as much weight for them as it did for the historical people.

(Indeed, it’s implied, if not directly stated, in the text what a big deal oath breaking is. Don’t say “oath breaking” too loud or the Silmarillion fandom will come out of the woodwork)

The big takeaway: BIG DEAL TO FORSWEAR YOUR OATH.

And he did it! Which is why I don’t buy the “it was because of Eowyn and like some nice jewels.” You don’t betray your country, you don’t forswear your oath to your king, simply because you’re hot on the king’s niece and Saruman might give you a raise.

And, as a liege man to Theoden, he was part of Theoden’s household so would have eaten, worked with, lived with everyone else in the household (Eomer, until he becomes Third Marshal; Eowyn; Hama; Theoden’s guards etc.)

So, you live with these people, eat with them, drink with them, spend all your time with them, for circa 10 years then you do a bunk and betray them? Something happened. I suspect it was years and years of things happening.

Overall, I think it to be a combination of things. As is usually the case for these sorts of crimes. In this case, a nice mix of fear, desperation, greed, resentment, anger and desire.

Fear/Desperation: So, to Grima’s mind the world is ending. Why wouldn’t he think this? Hell, even the Wisest and the Fairest (i.e. wizards & elves) think it’s ending. Why wouldn’t this poor bloke from some small country nearby to Mordor not think it an existential threat to an unimaginable degree?

Grima is sat here in Rohan looking at Mordor going "oh fuck" then who are the leaders left? Denethor (slightly bonkers) and Theoden (past his prime and lacklustre, like his father and grandfather).

This is not a man with a strong moral fiber. Or...any moral fiber, let’s be real. He does not have the fortitude to stick it out through hopeless situations. And it would have been hopeless to his eyes. And those around him (see: Eomer’s do not trust to hope… Sure Saruman was a problem, but he wasn’t just talking about the white wizard).

Gandalf’s plan, which none of these people were ever wholly aware of, was a goddamn Hail Mary pass and it worked. Barely, but it did. NO ONE had reason to believe it would, though. And those are people in the know. Not someone like Grima who has no fucking clue what Gandalf et al is up to. He sees Gandalf then like … Nazgul torture him on the planes of Rohan (Unfinished Tales). He sees Gandalf then bad things happen.

Lathspell indeed.

Greed & Desire: I don’t think I need to go into these ones too much. They’re pretty self explanatory. Grima and Black Phillip hung out and the goat asked Grima if he wanted to live deliciously and Grima, like any normal person, said: um, yes please? Also, Eowyn was around being badass, beautiful and untouchable.

Resentment/Anger: Alright, more probing in the dark. I suspect, for one reason or another (and these reasons would vary depending if you’re looking at books or movies), he was someone who was always treated as other/differently, teased, picked on, isolated, overlooked, doesn’t measure up to Rohan’s military ideal of masculinity. All of which creates an underlying resentment issue.

And nothing festers quite like resentment.

On top of that, I also suspect he was always told he was a snake/untrustworthy/not worthy etc. and if you're told something enough, and you don't have anything or anyone else telling you the opposite, there is a strong chance you become that thing.

It's a chicken and egg: the face you wear to the world tells the world how to treat you; the world tells you what you are and that is how you shape your face.

THEN you add in Saruman. Who is clearly, in the text, abusive. Which, if there were any inferiority/bullied etc. issues that are informing Grima’s actions, Saruman is just going to amplify it.

“You are a traitor because you’re a snake, and you’re a snake because you’re spineless, weak, nothing more than a creature that crawls on its stomach on the ground. Snakes are bad, evil things. Which is all you’ve ever been. Barely deserving of the good treatment I give you etc.” <-- all of which is basically a summary of what Saruman has been saying to him for a few years at this point (in the book, it’s only tangentially implied in the movies).

So Grima sort of morphed himself into what he believed himself to be, fuelled by that perversity resentment causes: Oh you think I’m a snake? I’ll be the best goddamn most poisonous snake you ever did see. Just watch me.

He is trapped in this situation. A hutch to trammel some wild thing in.

Which leads me to an interesting point that I think gets lost sometimes: Narratively, he and Eowyn are similar in what they are experiencing. Isolation, being overlooked, misunderstood/misrepresented, don't fit into societal roles and expectations etc. They just go in very different directions in how they respond to it.

I think that's why, in the film, it was smart to have her give pause and listen to him because what he's saying resonates. He is, in some ways, speaking as much for himself as her. But then, of course, he's also just trying to shit disturb and make mischief so of course, at the end of the day, any sympathy he is attempting to convey is laced with poison.

I do wonder, too, if he's the first person to see her fear and her frustrations and acknowledges them out loud. Which is powerful. To have someone see you. Damn shame it's Grima. Still, Eowyn (in the film) paused and listened for a reason.

A brief aside on my idle, ill founded thoughts on gender and Rohan:

One of the reasons I think Eowyn and Grima go in diverging directions, is that Eowyn is performing masculinity, in her society's accepted interpretation of it. Masculinity, in Middle Earth, is clearly the norm. And in Rohan, it’s a very particular iteration of military-focused masculinity that is idealized (you can bet, men who killed like 10 orcs were awarded places in court above Grima who served as advisor for like ten years but hasn’t killed an orc ever).

Eowyn’s desire to live/perform this more masculine ideal caters to the subconscious thing of “Masculinity is Natural Neutral Ideal” so of course you would want to be more like A Man. Whereas Grima is the opposite, not performing masculinity according to Rohan's accepted view of it.

And gods, in Anglo-Saxon culture (therefore, Rohan’s, most likely. I see no evidence to the contrary) is that a difficult position to find yourself in. Back in AS England, being called argr, unmanly, or to be accused of ergri, unmanliness, was one of the worst insults you could throw at a man (indeed, some laws said you could kill a man in retaliation for calling you such things). I would bet my shirt that people used such insults about Grima in this world. Which is all kinds of messed up.

Now, my interest in him is my general love for a good redemption arc for the most hopeless of characters. It’s why I struggle to call Boromir’s arc, when he’s written as living, a redemption arc. Because I don’t know he has much to redeem himself for. In his own mind, sure, yes, but externally? Not in my view, at least. He has things he’s done wrong and needs to make amends for. But that’s different from redemption.

Grima, on the other hand, is one whose walk-back from evil would be a full on redemption arc. And I like it because he’s not nice, he’s not pleasant. He will never be nice or pleasant or cheerful. But learning how to love and be a good person doesn’t require niceness.

Saruman could be plenty nice. Sauron could be plenty nice. Look what they turned out to be.

And in my writing, I do hope I’m treading that line between creating an understanding of who Grima is without Kylo-Ren-ing him. Or, woobiefying him, as the old parlance was. That’s the line I’m really aiming for. I want people to not hate him. I want them to understand him. Oh, still condemn him, still judge him, disagree with him, acknowledge and know he did bad things and isn’t a nice person. But the end game is to add some understanding and nuance.

Shades of grey.

Also I’m a sucker for challenging redemptions.

Why Eomer/Grima?

Because I am an agent of chaos.

More seriously, I was never overly taken with the Grima/Eowyn approach, personally, which is obviously popular (um...within the Grima world), and closer to canon. There are some beautifully written fics and art out there for the two of them, so if you’re into that. The creators in that nook of fandom are top notch.

I always liked the drastic opposite of Grima and Eomer. As I noted above, Grima and Eowyn are two sides of the same coin. Both bitter and resentful and trapped. And that’s a lot of fun to play with, and i get it. But for me, I love a good strong contrast of personalities in my pairings. (If that uh … isn’t readily apparent.)

I think both Eomer and Grima would have a lot to teach each other and in some really interesting ways that neither would expect. I can see both getting under each other’s skin in that way where you’re sort of always thinking about them.

Grima is also someone who has had very little love in his life (I suspect he wants it, he just doesn’t know how to give or receive it). Eomer is someone who has lost a lot of people (parents, quasi-uncle for a few years there. I think it’s why he’s so controlling over Eowyn. Didn’t want to lose her). And I think there’s something in there where they could help each other grow. But I’m a sucker for some beauty to be there, in the end. Some hope.

Mostly, though, I think it boils down to their dynamic and the angst potential. Eomer is this brash, forthright, fiery third marshal of the mark who may or may not think things through. Big of heart, dumb of ass. Then there’s Grima who is quiet and reserved, cynical, critical, always has a plan or five, gets by via his wits etc. Lots of fun potential there.

#LOTR #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #grima wormtongue #rohan #eorlingas #LOTR meta #ask #reply #eomer

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kaikiky · 3 years

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Mini rambling essay on being "gifted"

I don't know how it is for other people, but I know that for me, growing up as a "gifted kid" really ingrained in me a desire to impress other people, not just with how smart and accomplished (and thus, correlatively, superior) I am, but by how advanced I am. So like, it wasn't enough to be smart compared to everyone in my grade, I had to be smart compared to even people older and more experienced than me. I got so addicted to praise and recognition for how smart I am that I felt compelled to pursue activities that would showcase how advanced I am for my age. Which in practice meant I would prioritize school-related activities over hobbies I genuinely enjoyed, or if I enjoyed something, I would incorporate it into my academic life somehow so I could use it to impress grown-ups.

I couldn't detach anything I did from the pursuit of acknowledgment for how smart and mature and advanced I was. And I was even to some level aware that this was my motivation, which meant I felt kind of artificial. But at the same time, I still felt superior to other kids my age who watched cartoons and did hobbies that were just purely for fun. I thought they were wasting their time accomplishing nothing. I wanted to be one of those kids who got held up on a pedestal for accomplishing so much before even going to college. That was my goal. I always wanted to be compared to a cohort far above my own, and deemed better. Because that's how it was when I was little and I was used to it, and it felt good to be praised (even when it also felt awkward and uncomfortable to be in the spotlight, shy little bean that I am). And stopping to reflect on that, of course now I see how toxic and stupid that is. I've stopped living my life as a competition in pursuit of praise and acknowledgment, but I can still sometimes feel that unconscious desire wriggle around inside me, because it got that deeply ingrained into my unconscious. And I'm also realizing that jumping ahead like that to try to rack up all the advanced smarts and accomplishments actually made me miss out on learning things better if I had slowed down to meditate and dig into the subjects more. Like, as a kid a knew a LOT, and in high school I knew a LOT and was capable of a LOT, but looking back, I feel like it wasn't the depth of understanding I really wish it was, the kind of depth that would have stuck with me better over the years and been more useful. I knew what I needed to know to impress people and graduate in the top 5 of my class, but I wish I had learned it all more to be able to incorporate the information into my life and lifelong bank of knowledge. If I wanted to use now the information I used to have of art history, world history, calculus, linguistics, etc., I would have to go back and refresh my memory, and then still learn more. Because I had to drop a subject once the next semester started. I was so busy trying to soak up everything I needed for each semester that I didn't have time to really let things settle, and there were always new classes to work on right after so I couldn't take time to go back and continue learning subjects that genuinely fascinated me. They were in the past. I had new exams to study for and ace. I guess what I'm saying is, I wish I hadn't been so determined to win a Smartness™ certificate and instead had allowed myself to delve beyond what the class wanted me to learn so that I could really become more of an actual "expert" in the subjects that mattered to me. I wanted to be recognized as smart more than I wanted to be usefully smart or specialized in anything. And I resent that the competitive culture pushed me to be that way, because I could have such a deep understanding of so many things by now, but instead I was racing to learn too much for the frivolous purpose of being impressive.

(Oh and to pull capitalism into the horror landscape, my motivation even in middle school was to be impressive enough to win a big impressive scholarship that would cover all my college expenses, saving my family from the burdensome cost. So if I hadn't been worried about the price tag on a college education, I also might not have been so focused on doing everything I could to compete in national exams that would win me a full ride. So there's that.)

And I wonder how many people go straight from high school to college then grad school just because that's the track that makes you impressive, because wow! you're getting a PhD when you're so young? You must be really really smart!! First of all, why is that the measurement for smart? Second of all, why is that what's impressive and not so many other things people can accomplish outside of a big degree? I'm rambling again.

I just keep thinking about all the things I could have a genuinely deep understanding of if for all this time I had allowed myself to pursue them to my heart's content rather than rushing to be at a basic level of knowledge that people five years older than me would have if they were smart.

And I'm much more attuned to the performative manner "smart" people speak in, like their primary motive is to show off in order to get the praise and approval they're used to getting as gifted kids. It doesn't work.

That kind of performativity was always obnoxious and cringey, even in elementary school kids, but hearing an adult do it is worse because it shows they never grew out of it. They're trying to sound advanced and impressive but instead they just sound childish, like a toddler going "Look at me! Look at me! Look what I can do!" and hoping to get their seniors to clap.

I'm sure even a shy kid like me managed to pull off a few cringey moments seeking adult praise, but I got over it. I don't understand how grown ass adults aren't embarrassed of themselves when they go on monologues full of jargon and unnatural rhetorical flourishes. And it makes me wonder, is that the real reason you're here? in this university? because you want that Pavlovian response where you say something above your reading level and the adult in the room goes, "Wow, you're so smart"? That's the only thing I think when I hear that kind of bs.

When I hear those people, they don't make me want to be around them. They don't make me want to learn from them. They don't sound like they would be a good source of information, they just sound like they want to lecture at you so you'll stare in awe and think they're so smart.

And the more I hear it, the more I think the world would absolutely be a better place if society didn't cultivate that kind of behavior, if it didn't promote competition in general smarts but encouraged the passionate pursuit of knowledge no matter what the subject of interest is, even from a young age. I would rather be in a world full of little scholars who can talk for hours about the things they love rather than listen to pedantic, condescending nonsense from ~aCaDeMiCs~ who love feeling superior and compete with people in their fields for who knows the subject better.

I want knowledge to be fun, and scholarship to be collaborative, not a fight to prove your research deserves attention because you surpassed the understanding of whoever came before you. I'm tired of academic writing being, "Here's what so-and-so said, and here's why they're wrong," or "Here's what so-and-so said, but here's where they're lacking in something that I, the insightful genius, have come to fill in." It's such a juvenile pissing contest dressed up in professionalism and fancy rhetoric. It's embarrassing and pathetic.

I used to think people getting a PhD at 25 or something was so cool and impressive, but I have so much more respect now for someone who has lived through a lot of experience and appreciates learning in a way that gifted kids rushing to be impressive don't.

I respect people who are secure in themselves and come to university looking to learn and absorb, and I feel sorry for people like me who came to university intending to perform smartness. I feel like I could have used my time so much more wisely if I had had a better understanding of what I could get out of college itself rather than using it as a means for racking up achievements and honors.

#Ky says #I've been thinking about this a lot and I finally decided to get my thoughts down somewhere

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madeleineengland · 4 years

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The first japanese woman to stake her life in socialist cause and raise her voice on behalf of social justice was Kanno Sugako (1881-1911).

She was one of Japan’s first female anarcho-feminist journalist and advocate of women’s rights, as well as a prolific writer.

She was the author of a series of articles about gender oppression, and a defender of freedom and equal rights for men and women.

At fifteen Kanno was raped and this traumatic experience left her with a lasting sense of shame and guilt, like she was supposed to according to the traditional moral standards in Japan.

Kanno's interest in socialism was aroused when she read an essay by Sakai Toshihiko in which he counseled rape victims not be burdened with guilt.

After reading it, Kanno began to read Sakai's other writings and eventually gravitated to the circle of socialists. And gradually radical ideas became strongly related to Kanno's personal pride and the meaning of her life.

Then she wrote a series of short stories, articles, and essays for many magazines.

At the Muro Shinpō, she published her views regarding socialism:

"Our ideal is socialism, which aims at the equality of all classes. But just as a great building cannot be destroyed in a moment, the existing hierarchical class system, which has been consolidated over many years, cannot be overthrown in a day and a night ... So we [women] must first of all achieve the fundamanetal principle of 'self-awareness', and develop our potential, uplift our character, and then gradually work toward the realization of our ideal".

She was a firm believer in gender equality too, arguing in a Muro Shinpō piece:

"In these postwar years there are many tasks facing the nation in politics, economy, industry, education, and so on. But for us women the most urgent task is to develop our own self-awareness. In accordance with long-standing customs, we have seen as a form of material property. Women in Japan are in a state of slavery. Japan has become an advanced, civilized nation, but we women are still denied our freedom by an invisible iron fence..."

By 1903 Kanno had become interested in many movements.

She joined the "Woman's Christian Temperance Union" due to a personal attraction to a shared belief in charity and reform in gender equality.

In addition, she chastised men for constantly harping on the importance of female chastity. Instead, she argued that men should focus more on being "wise husbands and good fathers", than criticizing women for lacking of it.

She also parteciped in the association called Women's Moral Reform Society, a campaign against the system of concubines and advocating for the independence of women.

Kanno lambasted the official sanctioning of prostitution, disgusted that the Japanese government would allow the sexual exploitation of the daughters of the poor. Furthermore, she also blamed male customers of the various red-light districts.

In june 1908 Kanno attended a socialist-anarchist rally, which would be known as the Red Flag Incident, where red flags were hoisted and anarchist songs were sung. The authorities arrested the leaders of the gathering, and when Kanno went to the police station to demand about her comrades, she was shocked to see the brutal manner in which the men were being beaten.

Furthermore she too was thrown in jail for visiting her friends. This experience convinced Kanno that peaceful change was not possibile under the existing system.

After she was released, she became a firm anarchist.

But before the Red Flag Incident, she was a pacifist. She had joined "Heminsha", an association by Christians and socialists in opposing the Russo-Japanese war, and she published the anti-war short story Zekko (Severed Relations) in October 1903.

In 1910 She had become involved in a plot to produce a bomb to assassinate the Emperor.

Kanno was enthusiastic about carrying out the plan, hoping to emulate Sophia Perovskaya, the woman who had partecipated in the assassination of Alexander II of Russia.

However the plot was uncovered in May 1910 and the leaders were arrested, including Kanno.

She was accused of treason by the Japanese government for what became known as the High Treason Incident.

Kanno bluntly confronted the government, refusing to avoid responsibility. She remarked:

"Basically even among anarchists I was among the more radical thinkers. When I was imprisoned in June 1908 in connection with the Red Flag incident I was outraged at the brutal behavior of the police. I concluded that a peaceful propagation of our principles could not be conducted under these circumstances. It was necessary to arouse the people's awareness by staging riots or a revolution or by undertaking assassinations... I hoped to destroy not only the emperor but other elements too... Emperor Mutsuhito [Emperor Meiji], compared with other emperors in history, seems to be popular with the people and is a good individual. Although I feel sorry for him personally, he is, as emperor, the chief person responsible for the exploitation of the people economically. Politically he is at the root of all the crimes being committed, and intellectually he is the fundamental cause of superstitious beliefs. A person in such a position, I concluded, must be killed."

Later, when the judge asked Kanno if she wished to make a final statement, she stated her only regret was that the plot failed and she feels that she has failed those who sacrifice their lives for the sake of the people.

Kanno was executed by hanging on January 25, 1911, at the age of 29. She was the first woman with the status of political prisoner to be executed in the history of modern Japan.

In her prison diary she wrote: “I am convinced our sacrifice is not in vain. It will bear fruit in the future. I am confident that because I firmly believe my death will serve a valuable purpose I will be able to maintain my self-respect until the last moment on the scaffold. I will be enveloped in the marvelously comforting thought that I am sacrificing myself for the cause. I believe I will be able to die a noble death without fear or anguish.”

In her final entry she wrote of her happiness upon learning that 12 of her fellow defendants were reprieved, and whose lives were spared.

You can read her full diary here: https://libcom.org/history/reflections-way-gallows @historicwomendaily

The Tokio Asahi News commented after her execution: "She lived her life without believing in the gods or spirits. She indulged herself by reading biographies of russian anarchists and nihilists who had given their lives to their so-called principles. It is said that she prided herself as a pioneer among japanese women."

However much she has been criticized for her lifestyle, history cannot forget Kanno's strong commitment to her convinctions, her passionate desire to redress social injustices, her formidable sense of responsability, and her courage.

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combat-wombatus · 3 years

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uHm if you do these and if you want to do it I’d love a bnha matchup <3?

• my name is Aubri, I’m bi but prefer MHA boys tbh. I go by she/her, too.

• I’m a very Gryffindor person. (Sorry if you don’t know Harry Potter - 😖)

• I’m a June cancer, and I have ADHD and anxiety. My anxiety can be literally crippling somedays, but it’s gotten better overtime.

• I’m a bit of a class clown and usually just a clown 🤡 but that’s irrelevant. My teachers all hate me but like school-wise I do well so we have a love and mostly hate relationship 🤧

• I’m usually the ‘entertaining’ friend, in elementary the popular kids would invite me to play games with them because, “you’re funny” and it was like the biggest achievement ever 😭👍🏻 then they’d ignore me but that’s another therapy session

• I’m usually made fun of by people for being ‘weird’ and ‘insane’. Like all through elementary everyone thought I’d be a criminal when I grew up JUST BECAUSE I HAD UNDIAGNOSED ADHD - I hate it here 😐🦶🏻

• I’ve always been super into crime stories/true crime (where my anxiety comes from, I’m always worried about a pesky serial killer just killing me. It’s usually being kidnapped tho lmao) so I knew and still know like all these murder facts and sometimes I’d just randomly be like;

“Hey did you know it takes 12 hours and 2 days to dissolve a body in acid?”

“If you bury a dead deer over a dead body you buried deep in the ground, when police dogs sniff it and people dig they’ll just think it was the deer and won’t dig any farther.”

• So maybe people had a reason to be scared of me and think I’ll be a criminal someday, i dunno.

• I love love love reading and writing, and also debating. The things I’ve wanted to be when I grow up are basically: Dog shelter worker, actress, FBI agent, politician, and a writer. But usually I just want to do something that makes a positive impact on people. Like i wanted to be an FBI agent to solve crimes for people. I wanted to be a politican so I could actually help a lot of people. The entertainment industry also seemed like a way to make people happy. Idk, but then I decided I couldn’t be a politican at 10 because they were all corrupt and to be one I would have to be too. 😫🤌🏻 we love some good childhood angst

• the only subjects I’ve ever excelled at are ELA and Social Studies aka History, and Math I can’t do to save my life. ELA comes easy for me and I usually don’t have to work that hard and/or get too stressed over it. But I always get the meanest teachers for some reason. For example, one time I did my final essay for like 30% of my grade in 30 minutes the day it was due and I got an A+ 🦟🦗🦟🦗

• Uhhh id describe myself as a pretty loyal friend, I’m a ride or die type of girl. A story from my childhood that summarizes it pretty well is when I was in 2nd grade my friend wet her pants and she didn’t want to go to the nurse for it alone so I peed my pants so I could go with her and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Like, you know, a professional problem solver

• and I have genuinely attacked people for fucking with my friends but don’t snitch pls 🕳🏃‍♀️💨

• But also just anyone, people at my school tend to come to me with their problems for me to either help solve them by reasoning, or just to confront the other person like the bad bleep I am 😈😈

• I also have a huge daydreaming problem, it’s literally maladaptive daydreaming. So paired with my ADHD I don’t get shit done like ever.

• I have really high empathy levels I guess, like I always say hi to everyone I see on the street, especially if they look sad 😔 I’ve done it ever since I was a little kiddo.

• My fashion sense is very much a preppy/alt style. I wear those ripped tights and fishnets, I also have the MOST BIZARRE JEWELRY- like who allowed me to buy the gummy worm glittery earrings, hmmm???????? and those Mary Janes???????

• But I love crew necks and pleated skirts so I always obide by the National “hoes dont get cold” policy 🇺🇸😫🦅

• I wanna move somewhere someday, I don’t want to stay in America for very long

• I can speak Latin, French, and my native language which is English.

• My music taste varies, but my all-time favorite artists who all of their music they’ve ever put out has been my favorites are, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, and Conan Gray.

• I no-joke have a sign in my front yard that says;

In ✍️ this ✍️ house we ✍️ don’t ✍️ worship Jesus ✍️ but instead ✍️ Melanie ✍️ Martinez

• My favorite shows are MHA (duh), The Promised Neverland, and Malcolm in The Middle.

• and I’m not going to tell you what I prefer in a partner, because that ruins the fun 😤

• but I will say I cannot be friends with someone who doesn’t really make me laugh. Like I’m used to doing most of the talking in convos but if you’re just boring I’m sorry it’s nothing personal but no thanks 😐✌🏻

• About my physical appearance, I have fluffy n curly brown hair, but when it’s in the sunlight it looks sort of brown but golden yk?? It’s shoulder length :) I have bleach blonde streaks in the front. I like wearing eyeliner most days, too. I’m pretty average size/ on the skinnier side. Kinda high key inscure abt my body bc I got flat shamed in elementary EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TIDDIES NOW- whatever 😤🙄. I also have crystal type blue eyes, and I do have fairly big eyes. But, like, not weirdly big. A good big. My cheekbones are ALWAYS PRESENT so sometimes I get called a Tim Burton character but it’s cool ig ☠️☠️ oh and I’m kinda short. I’m 5’3, even though my doctor said I’d be 5’7. I feel like I was either tricked by the doctor or someone just stole my destined height while I was asleep. It’s probably cause I didn’t keep an eye out for Selener 👁 😔😔

• I’m a definite night owl, like all of my energy comes at night which really sucks cuz I can’t do much since everyone else is asleep.

• My love language is touch starved so I’ve never figured it out ✌🏻😗🔫

• but I am an attention whore so idk 😏

• I’m a huge introvert with social anxiety. It isn’t as bad as it used to be cuz I used to not be able to like go to restaurants but now I’m much better.

• I’m a huge history person, mostly like sad history LMFAO. Uh but a lot of my hyperfixations have been on history. Some examples are The Roman Empire, Julius Caesar himself, Anne Frank, The Titanic, the Black Plauge, Helen Keller, Marie Curie, Slavery in the US, Joan of Arc, and just a lot more. I always love talking about these things if someone would let me ramble to them but no one ever does 😖 it also got to a point where for all these subjects I’d go to the library and try to find a book on them but usually I’d either have already read it or I’d read it and know all the information.

• I’m super into Greek Mythology, I have 7 books filled with the stories, I’m going to Greece maybe this summer to see it’s history, and named my hamster Aphrodite but we call her Aphie. I also will talk about this forever and ever if you let me.

• My favorite color is yellow, my favorite food is literally nothing I never have an appetite, my favorite planet is Saturn, favorite song is Tag Your It by Melanie Martinez atm but it changes like everyday.

• Music is a huge safe-space for me if I’m feeling down or having a panic attack. It calms me down n is overall my coping mechanism 💃🏻💃🏻

• Biggest fear is spiders, even looking at one gives me a panic attack and I cannot sleep at all for that night, adding to my insomniac ass 🧎🏻‍♂️🏌️‍♀️

• I’m mature for my age, I don’t exactly like hanging around kids my age and I get along better with older crowds.

• i don’t like conventional dates, (I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO SOUND ‘QUIRKY’ AHAHA) I kind of like having a best-friend type partner more so dates that aren’t as romantic as like the movies or a fancy restaurant suite me better. My dream date is playing Monopoly on my bedroom floor 🦧

• Also I hate getting gifts. End of story. If someone gets me a gift like awe that’s nice but never again, I’d prefer to get you one. Especially in a romantic partner 😐 i keep a journal of my friends’ interests and hobbies so I can get them the perfect gifts for their bdays and Christmas’s. Been doing this ever since 4th grade.

• Though I don’t have much actual experience with relationships🧍🏻‍♀️

• I’m a huge believer in ‘family isn’t blood, it’s who you make it’ because I have a pretty shitty family life and my childhood has been trash. My friends are my family to me.

• Also if my friends don’t like my romantic partner ✨ GOODBYE ✨. Sorry girlie, bros before hoes 🦨💨

I was going to put more but I’m so so sorry for how LONG AND COMPLICATED THIS IS- idk if this is a autobiography or a matchup at this point 🤦‍♀️ don’t feel pressured to do this and if matchups aren’t open IM SO SO SORRY LMAO uh yeah ilysm 🦎🎂🧃

OMG ASLDFKJHASLKDJH

🥺 i’m so sorry bby but matchups are closed ;-; my 100 follower event was over while ago (i guess i should’ve specified that in the asks i answered LKSAJHFLKJAHDS SORRY IT’S MY BAD) but you sound so cool?? i had a lot of the same hyperfixations interests (heLLO helen keller was badass AF and the roman empire was messed up but still v cool, anne frank was awesome too) i also may or may not have wanted to be a politician when i was younger alskdjfhalkdhj but now i’m just 🧍🏻‍♀️ lost and anyways you’re amazing >.< love u lots and don’t forget to drink water and eat a lil something hehe :p

#coco answers #nonnie <3

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grandhotelabyss · 3 years

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So fascist. I’m joking, sort of. When I was trying to make the ‘gram work, I hashtagged a picture of a bookcase I’d fished out of the trash with #cottagecore—and then actual #cottagecore people liked the post. This proves that a hashtag cannot be used ironically. As for #darkacademia, I gave my thoughts a few months ago in my essay on Donna Tartt’s The Secret History:

I am too old, and I have seen too much, to fall in love with the novel that helped to inspire the #darkacademia trend. Granted, as a student who spent four years reading Shakespeare, Dickens, and Joyce under the high, dim vault of the Cathedral of Learning’s commons room, I had the most #darkacademic experience possible at an urban public research university. But then I spent seven years in graduate school, and seven years after that as an adjunct professor; I have seen the true darkness of academia, and it has very little to do with the Gothic trappings of Donna Tartt’s classic 1992 thriller.

What is #darkacademia, really, but a response to this genuine darkness? Such Poe-like airs as Tartt and her contemporary devotees put on are an attempt to reenchant the life of the mind after its exsanguination and despiritualization by the increasingly rationalized bureaucracies of the contemporary university. Despite attempts to bring the trend in line with social justice, #darkacademia represents a conservative backlash against both academic leftism and corporatist neoliberalism in our time, with these two tendencies’ routinized subversions and mandatory inculcations and profit-seeking administrations. In reaching back a generation to canonize The Secret History as the inspiration of their aesthetic, today’s gloomy ephebes chose wisely, since Tartt’s novel belongs to the last backlash, coming as it did between The Closing of the American Mind (1987) and The Western Canon (1994)—a black blossom between the Blooms—and deriving some of its emotional impetus, however disavowed, from the same sources as those jeremiads against the leveling of humanities education.

I enjoy issuing such vast historico-aesthetic declarations—it comes from the Marxist side of my education, and anyway, what else can you do with popular fiction?—but I take them very lightly.

What is the Cathedral of Learning? It would be a place of pilgrimage for the darkly academic, the academic darklings, if only they knew about it. You could always look up pictures online, but I’ve always thought “a picture is worth a thousand words” counted as dispraise of images: pictures don’t tell you anything at all—you literally need one thousand words to understand even one! So I give you a couple hundred words from my unpublished manuscript The Class of 2000, both the great Pittsburgh novel and the great turn-of-the-millennium novel, as the world will someday learn. I include, for the #darkacademic fans, the description of the Cathedral of Learning (sorry for the repetition between the Tartt review and the novel of “high, dim vault”—in my defense, it’s a high, dim vault) and a subsequent short dialogue on architecture that reflects a trending controversy of today. All you need to know is that this section is about my narrator and his religious friend, both high-school students, on a field trip. Please enjoy!

from The Class of 2000

Lauren and I were on a lunch break from an art-class field trip to the Carnegie Museum of Art. In a rain-presaging fall wind, we wandered around Oakland.

She had brought a pack of strawberry-flavored clove cigarettes—I don’t know where she got them—and we smoked to try to blend in with the students from Pitt and Carnegie Mellon. Despite the massing clouds, some of them still lounged on the lawn of the Cathedral of Learning, asleep with Plato or Marx propped open on their faces. We circled the Cathedral and stared up at its sooty limestone mass rearing into the clouds—the tallest building for miles.

We put out our cigarettes and walked through the high, dim vault of its first floor. Students at weighty wooden study tables, strangely unaffected by the anachronistic grandeur that rose around them, sighed in frustration over chemistry or French textbooks; their sweatshirts and jeans affronted the solemn Gothic atmosphere.

Between classes, we ducked in and out of the nationality rooms. To promote cultural understanding and civic investment in the university while this vast structure was under construction in the 1920s—I quote from memory the brochure we read that day—the Chancellor had invited the participation of the many immigrant communities who’d raised this city, and the University continued its outreach since then, from the 18th-century English who’d fought off their brethren at Fort Pitt to those who came from Eastern and Southern Europe at the turn of the century seeking work in the factories that made the world’s steel to the recent arrivals from Africa and Asia who wished to compete in the global economy. Representatives of said communities were tasked with proposing, planning, and funding the construction of classrooms to commemorate the nations they’d left and the cultures they carried. We saw samovars, stained glass, calligraphic screens, menorahs, nationalist liberators, bodhisattvas, and Yoruba gods. We discussed the glory of studying human achievement in vast tower consecrated to the genius of all the world’s cultures.

We left the Cathedral and its grounds, lit two more cloves, and walked deeper into the neighborhood, where campus buildings mingled with banks and bookstores and restaurants.

On Fifth Avenue, we found ourselves in front of an odd sight: the bell tower of an old church, a sepia stone spire, stood alone, though the rest of the church had long been demolished. In its place gloated a modern university building, all glass and steel, curved at the edge where it would have abutted the bell tower, as if to avoid a contaminating touch.

“I like the church tower better,” Lauren mused.

We regarded our reflections in the glass of the new building.

“So do I.”

“You know, since you don’t believe in God, you really aren’t entitled to like the tower better. Its purpose is to lift your vision, to point the way to heaven. The modern, godless building just shows you”—she pointed forward, in the flesh and in the glass—“your own small self.”

I pointed to the space over my shoulder in the glass where the Cathedral of Learning hovered behind us in the distance.

“That’s a secular structure,” I said.

“Please,” she said as she turned away in dismissal. “If what I said wasn’t true, would they have to call it a cathedral?”

#darkacademia #donna tartt #literature #cathedral of learning #fiction #creative writing #literary criticism #original writing #architecture

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the-queer-dungeoneer · 4 years

Text

Not Alone (Crowley x Fem! Reader) - Ch. 2/?

Previous / Next

Characters: Reader, Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel and likely more once we get into the thick of it.

Relationships: Crowley x Reader, Aziraphale x Reader, Aziraphale x Crowley

POV: First-person

Warnings: Talks about lonliness, but otherwise n/a

Tags: @curse-brekker, @oopstheregoesmysoul13

*gif is not mine and neither are any of the characters or source material!

Y/N = your name

Y/N/N = your nickname

Y/L/N = your last name

H/C = Hair color

E/C = Eye color

F/C = Favorite color

A/N: Aaaaaaand I’m back! I have survived my first round of midterms! Yay! Thank you all for the love on chapter one. It really made my week.

Thank you to my lovely editor @aka-ellie ❤️

Lots of love! - TQD

October 2018

“Aziraphale!” I called, bouncing into the shop. “Aziraphale, I have the most wonderful news!”

It had now been six weeks since we’d first introduced ourselves. I came to the shop almost daily to work on homework and read his unique collection of books. I learned all about how his childhood dream was to open a bookstore. He explained that he had loved history as a boy, so much so that he would write himself into the frontline of historical events. He recounted these fictions with such detail I nearly believed him. It was lovely to see his eyes alight with passion. Knowing he had achieved his dreams made me feel so optimistic. I told him of my dreams to become a research psychologist. I explained how I wanted to research the beneficial effects of the humanities on the brain and use that as a jumping off point for starting insurance-supported arts therapy centers. He didn’t call me a dreamer, he called me a visionary.

“Aziraphale?” I questioned. He was known to keep the shop open at odd hours, but the door being unlocked meant he was almost certainly there. I didn’t see him at the front desk, and after peeking around a few rows of shelves, I heard voices coming from the back room. I didn’t want to interrupt him if he was in a meeting, so I quietly sat on the window seat and started reading my textbook.

The back door creaked open several minutes later and a very tall and official looking man with strikingly purple eyes walked out. Aziraphale was following closely behind him. The stranger looked quite stern but put on a smile when he saw me sitting in the shop.

“I am so sorry Aziraphale,” he said in a pseudo-animatronic tone, “I didn’t realize I was keeping you from your customers.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sir.” I assured him, “I am just visiting as an, um, an acquaintance. I only had a question for Aziraphale.”

“Ah. An acquaintance? I didn’t know you kept company other than these dusty books Aziraphale.” The calm and clinical man rainsed an eyebrow. “Well, any acquaintance of Aziraphale’s is an acquaintance of mine!” He said, extending his hand to me. “I’m Gabriel, and you are?”

“Y/N. It’s um – it’s nice to meet you Mr. Gabriel.” I said, attempting to return the handshake.

Gabriel took my hand and kissed my knuckles swiftly. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be cordial, but it came across as domineering and quite creepy. I played it off with a small, uncomfortable giggle.

“Lovely to meet you Y/N. Now, please excuse me, I have a meeting all the way uptown that I simply must get to.” And with that, he marched out the door not unlike a wind-up tin soldier. Something about him made me feel uneasy way down in the pit of my stomach.

“Y/N, dear, I am so sorry about that. Gabriel is – um… well – he’s a colleague of mine. We had to confer about some urgent business.” Aziraphale said, stumbling over his words. He seemed unusually frazzled for a normally calm and collected ball of cheer.

“Are you alright Aziraphale? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh no, ghosts aren’t real. Anyways, everything is tickety-boo! Especially now that you’re here. Please, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon?”

I didn’t quite believe him, but I didn’t feel I’d known him long enough to pry. My motivations for coming suddenly felt very self-centered seeing the stress that was attempting to conceal itself in his forehead wrinkles.

“Well, I just got that essay back, and I wanted to share it with you. But it seems like it’s a bad time, so why don’t I come back later?”

“Nonsense, my dear! I am just fine. Truly, nothing more than a long day of work. I have so been looking forward to reading your essay.” His demeanor seemed to be easing, so I handed over the manila folder containing my last few weeks of sleep and effort.

“I was quite excited about my professor’s thoughts, so I actually brought you the graded copy. It seems silly now. Don’t pay any mind to it. You really don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.” I was rambling out of embarrassment at this point, thinking I should’ve just put the essay in my desk drawer and moved on. He probably didn’t care that much, right?

“Y/N, dear, it’s alright to be proud of your accomplishments. Now, let’s see.” He opened the folder revealing the packet of papers with a large red pen marking that said ‘95/100 – innovative.’ “Well that is an A+ if I’ve ever seen one! Amazing, dear! I am so proud of you!”

Hearing that made my heart smile. He was proud of me. This lovely and sincere man was proud of the work I had done. It was reassuring and helped me feel much less awkward about the ordeal. Aziraphale had an aura that instantly made you feel comfortable.

He poured us two mugs of tea and invited me into the back room where there was a little couch. I didn’t think he’d want to read it while I was in the room, I was a bit anxious thinking about it to be honest, but he seemed insistent that I stay, so I settled into the side of the couch and worked on annotating a book for a case study I was researching. It took him about twenty minutes to read through all of what I had written – every word, footnote and figure.

“Wow.” He breathed, closing the folder and looking at me. His blue eyes seemed contemplative. I couldn’t decipher what he was thinking and started panicking. Surely he was questioning my intellect “That was phenomenal Y/N. Truly, if I were part of the government and I had read that, I would put your plan into action effective immediately. My goodness, you were so creative and convincing. It was so emotionally charged yet logical. Oh - my dear, you are brilliant!”

I was floored by his praise. My cheeks felt warm and I couldn’t stop smiling. This man that I admired so dearly thought so highly of my work. I hadn’t realized until that moment how much his opinion mattered, but it did. It mattered a lot.

“Please let me take you out to dinner to celebrate this accomplishment! My treat.”

“Oh, that is so kind of you Aziraphale, but I am sure you have plenty of work to do and I really don’t want to trouble you.”

“You always worry about causing me trouble. I promise you, it is no trouble for me to take my friend out and celebrate her merits. I insist. We will go anywhere you like!”

Friend. I felt the corners of my eyes sting a bit with that word and a bright smile overcame my face as I nodded in agreement. Finally, I wasn’t so alone. I had a friend. I didn’t realize how lonely it had been living in this city all by myself for so many months but hearing that one word brought it all to the forefront. I was suddenly overcome with gratitude for this kind man that had allowed me to find a small corner of home in his shop, who had allowed me to stay later than the normal business hours to finish my readings in peace and quiet, who would bring me tea if my eyes were getting heavy or if I looked like I had had a long day. He was truly one of the most astounding people I had ever met. He was so selfless and gracious. He was always in a chipper mood and seemed happy to see me. Knowing he considered me a friend sent a wave of relief crashing over me that I didn’t know I had been holding my breath for. Without warning a few tears found their way to my cheek.

“Oh dear, Y/N, if I did something that hurt your feelings, I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you into dinner. We certainly don’t ha-“

“Aziraphale, I’m alright.” I cut him off. “I am just happy is all. It’s nice to have a friend. I’ve been feeling rather lonesome since coming to school here. I didn’t realize just how much until this moment. You didn’t do anything wrong, in fact, you seem to be the only thing that has gone right since I moved. Thank you.” I tried to pour all my gratitude into those last two words. After the apparently stressful day he’d had he deserved to hear them.

“My heavens,” he sighed, “I didn’t realize. Judging by your charm and intelligence, I would have bet you were extremely popular. I am honored to be your friend. Please know that if you’re ever feeling lonely you can visit any time. I mean that.”

I knew he meant it. I could tell deep down in my heart. The same way I could tell before that I could trust him.

“Thank you, Aziraphale. You are an angel.”

“I don’t know about that. Anyhow, let’s get you some dinner! I know I am feeling absolutely peckish.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #crowley #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale #good omens fic

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svartalfhild · 4 years

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I have been thinking a lot lately about the sort of person I am, the sort of person I would like to be, and why I’ve turned out the way that I have. Long post incoming. (Sorry, mobile folks.)

I’ve recently had a lot of old memories from when I was growing up resurface and give new context to the things I do now. I tend to think of myself as being a very timid and self-critical person, and that’s often the case, but I have these moments where I’m not. Those moments can manifest in all kinds of wild ways. Most often, they are born from anger. Moments when I get mouthy or lash out because I’ve been pushed over the edge. Moments when I become stone cold because my sympathy has run out. I don’t like being that way. I’m scared to let my anger out ever because I’ve done so many awful things with it in the past, and I don’t want to become my father.

But at the same time, those moments are among the rare occasions when my anxiety shuts down, and briefly, I get to feel something like confidence. I stop analyzing and take action for once. I realize there are appropriate times to be angry and appropriate ways to express anger, but I’m always afraid that if I let myself be angry at the right times, my anger will also come out at the wrong times. There’s a time and a place to be a stone cold bitch, and I don’t trust myself to know when that is.

So I prefer to always be kind. I prefer to win people’s respect by being soft rather than assertive, because trying to be excessively nice has always come with a much, much lower risk of hurting people. It’s more important to me that I should do no harm than it is to avoid getting stepped on. I don’t always succeed at being sufficiently nice, but I try so hard.

Looking back on my childhood, I think that has a lot to do with my trauma and with the big mistakes that I’ve made in my life.

When I was a child...I wasn’t very good at being soft. I was not a sweet child. I was isolated and lived in a strict “intellectual” household under the thumb of my father’s constant rage, which made me selfish, cold, deceitful, and arrogant in ways children usually aren’t. Sure, I generally absorbed all the moral ideas of my supposedly progressive-minded parents about basic decency, but that wasn’t nearly enough. They taught me nothing about how to actually interact with people, and as an undiagnosed autistic girl, it was extremely difficult to learn on my own. Hell, I didn’t even really know that it was worth trying to learn. I wasn’t a complete gremlin; I was quiet, so the adults generally thought of me as nice and well-mannered, but my peers saw the stone cold bitch.

There were times, albeit rare ones, when I did pick the right moment to be That Bitch. At the age of like 7, I kicked an older boy really hard in the shin and yelled at him for bullying another girl because he wouldn’t stop and the teachers weren’t doing anything about it. When I was 10, I sat on the bus near a bunch of rowdy boys so they’d make the mistake of trying to harass me instead of creeping on a girl who lived two doors down from me. They were not prepared for my willingness to be extremely mean to them. When I was 12, I got a double feature of people touching my ponytail and them not being prepared for Real Bitch Hours. The girls who sat behind me in history got a blunt ass “don’t touch me”, and I did not back down when they got offended. The boys who sat behind me in math got rather graphic descriptions of the damage I would do to their balls if they didn’t leave me alone, and they reacted with a surprising amount of horror (which was rather satisfying to me), especially if I fixed them long enough with what they coined my “murder stare”. Unfortunately, the latter experience later became a spectacle as they asked me to recount my graphic description to their friends and earned me a rep as a misandrist, but it had at least persuaded them not to touch me.

Sadly, these occasions are the only ones I can recall of having spoken up in anger as a child and having been entirely justified in doing so. Most of the time, my assholery wasn’t righteous, it was just callous. I quite frankly deserved much of my bad reputation and subsequent lack of friends. I often wonder at what point I made the decision to start caring. I think perhaps I started to realize how bad I was at the onset of my teens, because that’s when I had to start atoning for some seriously messed up shit and I’d lost the few friends that I’d had. But I don’t think I truly began to grasp the importance of kindness until my late teens, when I learned that I wasn’t just a “sheltered” kid; I was an abuse victim, and that came with all kinds of realizations about my own behaviour. I didn’t want to be an abuser. I didn’t want to inflict what I’d been through on others. So I started to try to do better.

The thing is, I was not at all equipped for that. I had a rough couple of years trying to reconcile my desire to be a different person with accepting the way my brain is wired. I’d just learned that I’m asexual and autistic and all these other terms I could finally use to describe who I am. I had trouble figuring out what parts I should be proud of, what parts I shouldn’t, and how to appropriately express all of that.

I still don’t know when exactly my empathy switch flipped, but at some point, as I was transitioning from high school to college, all that empathy I’d repressed since forever came flooding out in excess, and I’ve struggled with regulating it from then on. I went from wondering if there was something wrong with me because the best I could manage was general compassion to just not being able to stop the empathy train.

Anyway, it seems like all that led me to being afraid of myself and to trying to accomplish things by being as soft as I can, as a way to atone for my mistakes, as a way to avoid becoming my father, and as a recognition of the importance of being kind. That’s helped me in a lot of ways, and I hope that it’s made life better for the people I interact with, but the thing is, it’s not always what’s needed. Being deferent and accommodating has its drawbacks. I have trouble getting people to take me seriously, and I often find myself stuck in awful situations because I couldn’t bring myself to assert my boundaries or rock the boat in any way.

I need to find a balance between the stone cold bitch and the Giving Tree. Once again, I find myself lacking the necessary tools to achieve that. I think I’d need to be in therapy and living away from my family to get there. The best I can do right now is aim for “looks like she’ll kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll”. That won’t make me more confident or assertive when I need to be, but at least people might take me a little more seriously.

Anyway, thanks for slogging through my little personal essay. I just needed to organize some thoughts I’ve been having for a while.

#personal

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