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literatikoo · 3 years

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Jess Mariano's alleged communication problems

If there is one thing the Gilmore Girls fandom agrees upon, whether you're team Jess or Dean or Logan, it's that Jess isn't great at communicating. There's just a consensus that he's not great at discussing his problems and that's the number 1 reason why his and Rory's relationship blew up in their face in season 3. But... this is a (somewhat) unfounded complaint? Don't get me wrong, I know Jess can be harsh and rude and really knows how to hit the nail on the head sometimes but there are also multiple instances where he talks after being pushed a little. Like every single time he's talked to Luke about Rory problems ("The girls I like don't give a damn about me," "I told her I loved her" and the infamous swan episode) or when he tells Rory, a girl he barely knows, that his mom doesn't want him back for Christmas.

The problem with Jess is that he picks and chooses who to communicate too. He definitely doesn't talk about Liz to Luke because he knows that Luke just doesn't believe that Liz is a bad person and a neglectful mother. And seriously, we've seen Luke enable Liz' terrible behaviour multiple times on the show, do you really think he would've believed whatever Jess had to say about her? He talks to Rory about Liz that one time and she doesn't believe him either and both we and Jess know that she has a right to that because she's never met Liz, but this is still enough for Jess to never bring her up again (at least from what we see) because he's a 17 year old kid with a terrible relationship with his parents. NO 17 year old kid who's been treated bad by their parents would want to open up about it because it's pretty strongly ingrained in us that having negative emotions against your parents is WRONG. On the other hand, Jess knows that Luke sees his and Rory's relationship and may even help because he has his own unique relationship with the Gilmore Girls, which is why he's much more open about Rory and even seeks advice on occasion.

Now, let's talk about Jess' less than stellar communication moments:

1. Lying about school and Walmart: Jess skives off school a LOT to work at Walmart and save up money. He doesn't tell anyone about it. Why? Because for everyone else in Stars Hollow, and for most of us too, school is important and education is a positive thing needed for growth. But who knows how often Jess went to school before SH, we already know he has a bad relationship with the educational system but why? When he goes back to NY in s2 it's obvious he's not going to school and we know Liz moved around a lot so he may be a lot more behind in school than we know. Yes, he's smart and he reads a lot but that's not enough to do well in school; you need to be able to conform a fair amount and I don't think Jess even went enough to know that. Jess already wasn't planning on going to college and he knows that living with Luke is temporary, which is why he puts more importance into saving up money. He was already working for the future, just in a different way from everyone else. It's obvious that he also wasn't planning to flunk out of school, it happened because he wasn't attending enough not because he was failing (which pisses me off so much don't even get me started). He was going to graduate and then he was going to use the money he saved up while looking for a job that suited him. And that's a pretty solid plan honestly, especially since he didn't have the luxury to suddenly decide to go to 4 year college because his girlfriend told him too like Dean. But this is something else he just couldn't talk about to Luke or Rory, who both think he's capable of great things within the academic sphere. Mind you, once Luke found out he was skipping school he didn't deal with things in the best way either. He stole his car, effectively cutting off Jess' last bit of independence. I really feel like Jess was just waiting to graduate before he had THE talk with Rory about their future, and it was obvious he was thinking longterm ("22.8 miles"). That is before everything goes to shit.

2. Keg! Max!: Let me preface this by saying that Jess definitely made irreversible mistakes in this episode... but it wasn't for the lack of trying. This is the episode that he finds out he's not graduating and we can see him struggling with this information, he's tense and angry and his emotions are simmering. His interactions with Rory, which are usually so easygoing, are surrounded by this air of finality. At this moment, he knows he's going to lose her and his home with Luke because that's what the deal was. But he still goes with her to that party and he still does the bare minimum of mingling. Throughout the party he tells Rory that he wants to leave, I'm guessing to talk to her about what happened. But they don't (this is NOT Rory's fault btw, she had no way to know what happened either) and instead Jess' emotions get the better of him. This is the first of the two instances where we really see how non communicative Jess can be. However I still maintain that if Dean hadn't gotten involved, Jess and Rory would've been able to talk. (fuck Dean)

3. Jess leaves: This is the second case where we see him being truly non communicative, and unfortunately I don't have much to say in his defence. Except that he probably was still reeling from losing his home and meeting his Dad and just didn't know how to put that insane amount of emotion into words. He also probably thought that Rory just didn't want to talk to him anymore because of how terribly he treated her, especially since he was just going to give her more bad news. He could see himself self destructing, and didn't want Rory to be collateral damage.

4. Smaller instances (Swan song, Not calling Rory, fighting with Lorelai): Okay, I think the swan incident was Rory's fault, because he was telling her the truth and just didn't want to get into it in front of Emily. But she wasn't ready to hear it until she talked to Dean, which honestly was a sucky move on her part. The not calling her when he said he would while they were dating in that one random episode was also a similar misunderstanding. The thing in common with both of these instances was that he was ready to learn afterwards; he said he was willing to go back to Emily's house and he bought them tickets to the Distillers and from what the show tells us they had a lot more consistent date nights after that. This was Jess' first proper relationship and he was really trying. Now the Lorelai thing... he just didn't want her in his business. They had no relation to each other and she was very condescending to him the first time they met, he wasn't great either but when an adult talks to you the way she did after you've just been uprooted at your mothers whims, you tend to hate them a little. And honestly I always thought that Jess being weirded out by Lorelai's involvement in his and Rory's relationship was more normal 17 year old behaviour than Dean being overly friendly with her.

So, in conclusion, because he made two big fatal communication mistakes, he's labelled as the broody non talking type. When we see most of the characters actually do the same (Rory drops out of Yale and cuts off ties with her mother, Lorelai sleeps with Christopher after months of miscommunication with Luke, Luke doesn't tell Lorelai, his fiance, that he has a daughter), seriously, they've all made mistakes and this doesn't diminish the mistakes that Jess has made and the hurt he has caused, but he also doesn't deserve to have non communicative as a personality trait. If it was seriously that big of a problem, he wouldn't have been able to grow from it that quickly (by the end of s4) and by reading self help books of all things. I also think it comes off like that because he was in the show for so little time, and that's what the writers chose to focus on.

So tldr, Jess isn't as non communicative as the show wants us to believe and he definitely isn't broody.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls meta #jess mariano #rory gilmore #luke danes #liz danes #lorelai gilmore #literati #character meta #jess mariano meta #anti dean forrester #not really but my entire blog is anti dean forrester so

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

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Loki Series Thoughts—Glorious Purpose

Ok, I’m always nervous about posting my thoughts, but here we go. Spoilers ahead of course!!! (Disclaimer: Any gifs or images are not mine.)

Let’s start out with the episode’s name: Glorious Purpose. I know some people were a bit miffed about the emphasis put on the line, but I actually thought it worked well. It’s not so much that Loki actually believes in this “purpose,” but rather he is clinging to what he’s been told his purpose is. And by the end of the episode, he’s finally working through some of the things he’s been hurt by, abandoning what he’s been forced into and ready to be who he wants. Granted, it’s still going to take some time for him to come to grips with all that has happened, but I’m excited to see the journey.

The TVA. They undeniably suck. Whether or not it will be addressed directly, they are the (or one of the) antagonists in the show. What they are doing is, frankly, tyrannical. Three “time keepers” have taken it upon themselves to force countless versions of time and people into one single stream. And you know what? They can’t control that timeline. Not like they want to. As much as Loki’s line about “the weak” applies to himself, it applies to the TVA, too. It’s a facade of control that they cling to; if they truly had the right, the ability, to control time, everyone would follow their path. There would be no variants. Now, I could write a whole separate analysis on the MCU’s explanation of time travel. It’s convoluted and in a large way doesn’t make sense.

I’d like to talk about Loki’s characterization. I am, in a word, relieved. From the trailers, Tom seemed to be over-acting, something rather strange for someone so good at conveying deep emotions through nuanced actions. Now I believe any exaggerated lines from the trailers are just Loki trying to separate himself from who he’s been told he is, and trying to reinvent himself. I don’t think that’s a bad thing either; they’re not rewriting Loki, he’s just growing in a new way. And though this way is “new” I think it will be similar to what we’ve seen before. From what we’ve seen so far, there is good continuity, and they are addressing things about Loki that should be addressed in canon.

Loki projects. Most notably in the Avengers, but also a bit in Thor 1 and The Dark World, a lot of Loki’s lines can be applied to himself, though he is talking generally or towards another group. What comes to mind is actually something he touches upon again in the series. The illusion of freedom. And though it is not said that line in particular is him thinking of himself, it can be inferred based on his admission that the line in the gifs above apply to him. Also that little gesture when he says “weak” breaks me. He’s hurting so much.

Loki is not a villain. He may think he’s one because everyone else is telling him that, yet we’re already seeing it brought up that it’s not true. I can only hope that we’ll see Loki state this himself later in the series. He was largely forced to do what he did. It is not his fault, so how can he be a villain?

Loki cares. Tom’s acting is just *chef’s kiss* Seeing his mother’s death hurts so much. I love that his first response is denial. Loki is thrown into something he’s never known about before, being shown things that, to his knowledge, have never happened. But then when he’s had a few seconds to wander around the TVA on his own terms, he’s more come to grips with all that’s going on. So, when he’s by himself and see’s Frigga lying there, dead, it gets to him. Then seeing Odin still call him his son, he feels the slightest glimmer of hope, but also regret; he already knows in the back of his mind that he’s not actually going to get that. Loki’s living from second to second, trying to hold on. He probably thinks this ends with his death. (I do have issues with that Odin scene in context of Ragnarok but that’s more a tangential aside, so I’ll gloss over it for now.) Then seeing Thor and himself acting like brothers again is heartwarming. So just when he’s feeling uplifted, Thanos comes into the picture. He realizes how much control the titan still had over his life; he never really escaped. And in the end, Thanos made good on his promise. And that is terrifying! And he laughs at it. It’s a sad sort of laugh, one that’s slightly crazed. Loki feels that no matter what he does, it ends in pain. By the end of seeing all that, he is a man broken. Rather, more broken than he already was.

Loki is struggling. That’s nothing profound; it’s obvious. But where it really stands out to me is actually in a part I originally thought to be out of character. I am referring to “What if I was a robot and I didn’t know it.” Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s actually that his perception of himself has been so thrown that he really isn’t sure about his own chemical makeup anymore. Odin and Frigga keeping from him that he’s a frost giant made him so unsure of himself, he thought he might not even be a living being.

Nervous tics. Was I the only one noticing his leg bouncing when he talked to Mobius? And what about that scene when he’s sitting on the steps? He begins to pick at his hands. Note, that’s something he did in T1 after finding out he was a frost giant and while confessing to the Warriors Four about how he was the one who told the guard of their trip to Jotunheim. Just a little detail I really appreciated. (If anyone has gifs of any of these things, feel free to share :)

Mobius. I’ll be honest, I’m a bit undecided. I’m hesitant to say he’s evil. After all, we haven’t seen that much of him yet. However, I will say he is unscrupulous and manipulative. His questions weren’t to help Loki work through his trauma. Mobius was trying to goad him into helping, and likely was trying to gauge how much this Loki is like the variant he’s tracking. When Loki makes any admission of his feelings, it’s something he already knew, not a conclusion Mobius helped him reach. Mobius mocks him a bit and pushes his buttons because he sees Loki as a means to an end, and wants to know how easily he can get him to work with him. And what strikes me is how similar Mobius’s deal is to Thor’s deal in TDW. Thor doesn’t offer Loki freedom, he offers revenge. Mobius’s deal is just another variation of this. He can’t offer “salvation” but he can offer something “better”. Working for the TVA really isn’t better, though. So what does he mean? Well, I think he means a chance for Loki to prove he’s a hero. I hope as the show progresses it’s addressed that Loki doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. That’s what he’s been doing his whole life, but I want Loki to see for himself that he doesn’t have to.

Miss Minutes. Propaganda. Plain and simple, it’s propaganda. Besides the way it praises the “time keepers” as amazing saviors, necessary to keep the world in order, it’s essentially saying “don’t think for yourself.” The whole point of the video is “the time keepers are great. The TVA is flawless. Trust us to decide everything. You have no autonomy in the world we want, so surrender your free will. Submit to the system we’ve decided is perfect and everything will be just fine.” Of course, by “just fine” they mean the variant will be pruned and the timeline will keep going as the time keepers see fit. The animation style was great though! It really fit.

The infinity stones. I think their inclusion makes sense. If you remember from Endgame, the stones being in the right place in the right time keeps the timeline from branching, and thus prevents the multiverse from being created. Likely, the time keepers used the stones to make their “sacred timeline.” Naturally, any variant time stones would cause a problem. That’s why they have so many extras. But think about how pointless so much of what happened seems. Nat, Gamora, Vision, Tony, everyone who was snapped, everyone who was left. So, literally the entire universe was flipped upside down for paperweights. It really puts Thanos’s pursuit of the stones into perspective, doesn’t it?

The cloaked figure. I think there’s some misdirection going on here in one way or another. Mobius says he’s chasing a Loki variant, then immediately it cuts to a scene with the cloaked figure. Our minds are likely to assume that is the variant then. But they don’t actually say it’s Loki, so I’m inclined to believe it’s not. Though, I don’t have enough information to say who I do think it is, I could make a couple of educated guesses and say Mephisto (he certainly interacted with Loki in the comics, plus there’s the stained glass window) or Sylvie. Well, whoever Sophia Di Martino’s character is. I know she was previously listed as Sylvie on sources such as IMDb, but that has since disappeared. But why would you have a “young Sylvie” (Cailey Fleming) without an older version? There is speculation Di Martino’s character will be Lady Loki, but I hope this won’t happen. If they make Lady Loki her own character, I doubt we’ll see Variant Loki get to be fluid. Even if it’s confirmed on the record, it’d be nice to see actually happen beyond a piece of paper. And with twist villains being such a prominent force in modern media, I’m interested to see who our cloaked friend really is.

Time travel. Like I said earlier, this is a lot. But I can’t talk about the episode and not mention this aspect in at least a little more depth. I don’t like how the MCU deals with time travel. I think it’s an unnecessarily complicated mix of a number of different, already complicated theories. However, I think Loki will ultimately escape from the TVA and create a multiverse too difficult to prune (and maybe he’ll actually get to burn the place down too!) This will then tie directly into Doctor Strange 2. Do you guys know what that’s called? The Multiverse of Madness. Actually, in the Miss Minutes propaganda, they almost exactly say “will throw the multiverse into madness.” Will we get to (finally!) see a certain raven-haired god meeting Dr. Strange? And maybe even the Scarlet Witch herself? Well, I’m not sure, but right now I think it’s looking pretty good!

And some random things that didn’t really anywhere else:

Peggy is in the background?! My thought here is that Steve wasn’t supposed to stay with her. This made not only a Variant Steve, but also a Variant Peggy. We may not see Steve, but I bet he’s been taken care of too!! And who knows? Maybe there will be a cameo later. Otherwise, it might be something that was cut from the show, or just a fun easter egg of sorts.

The score was so good! It sets the mood perfectly.

Loki is a good fighter. Even if he’s overpowered, he finds a way.

Some of the humor didn’t land, but that might just be a personal thing.

So now my final thoughts. It’s their strongest pilot yet. So much emotion crammed into less than an hour. A lot of exposition, too, yet it didn’t feel tedious (Endgame I’m looking at you). And then we get to delve into Loki’s psyche, something that really appeals to me! Overall, 9/10. I hope the rest of the series is as good!

Did I miss anything? Was there something you were hoping I’d mention and didn’t? Or do you have something to add or (politely!) disagree with? I’d love to hear it all! Remember, fandom is a safe space to talk about, analyze, and debate about things you enjoy. My ask box is always open with anon on. Reblogs and comments are great too. Thanks!

Me after watching the episode:

#the loki show #the loki show spoilers #the loki series #loki series #loki analysis #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #the loki series spoilers #I know there’s nothing particularly profound here but here you go #*throws thoughts into the void*

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extemely-thoughtful-person · 3 years

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50 followers special theory!!! (Prepare for a brain rot!!!)

Even MORE Chapter 6 Predictions: the Olympus Tech Company, RSA vs NRC details, and mini theory regarding the release date.

Now, your probably all getting impatient about Chapter six's release date. The events are something to look forward to, but it just doesn't answer what happens next in the main story line. But because of impatience, I would like to say something: it could be worse.

Seriously, I was (and still am) a fan of RWBY, and let me tell you. Their yearly hiatus is pure torture. Their release dates are in late October to early November, with their volumes ending anywhere around the end of February to early April. This leaves a time span of anywhere from 8 to 10 months between each volume. And the writing for that show isn't even close to as good as Twisted Wonderland's.

So I'm taking a second to appreciate not just the quality, but the speed of the writing and development of each chapter. Along with the effort that goes into each event, repair and update. Your doing great TWST crew! Keep up the good work!💕♥️

So, with that said, let's get to a few issues I've been thinking about for a while now.

The Olympus Tech Company

What We Know So Far

The Olympus Tech Company is one of the best tech companies in Twisted Wonderland. They sponsored the VDC voting system, and are a pretty big deal in the world. Upon receiving an invitation for an internship from the company, we learn from Ortho's reaction that getting something like this is a huge deal. It's probably a very rare occurrence for the company to undertake interns.

Idia got the intern easley enough, most likely due to his skill, and not social status. But, instead of accepting the invitation, he tossed it in the trash. Along with the rest of his invitations to work for other smaller companies.

Many people have been asking the very fair questions: Why would you throw away a great opportunity like that? What kind of past events would lead a person to toss away something that thousands of people would jump at the chance to do?

These kinds of questions are good, but this is the questions I've been asking: Did Idia make the right choice by throwing a valuable invite in the trash? Will his choice come back to bite him in the rear later on?

The reason why I ask these kinds of questions is because we don't know anything else about the Olympus Tech Company (OTC). For all we know they could premote enslavement there. (They obviously don't, but we don't really know that)

So because we know so little about the company, I decided to consult the next most accurate source besides the game, the Hercules movie. More specifically, mount Olympus, and it's residents. And I gotta say, some of the stuff I found at the beginning of the film was more than enough to make an educated guess as to what kind of company the OTC is really like.

And it's not as good as the universe makes it out to be.

My Research and Opinions regarding Olympus

Before I formally begin, allow me to cast some light on a very important factor that will change your whole output on the movie. Remember the first song that's preformed by the Muses, the Gospel truth right? This song is preformed throughout the film in smaller parts, but the whole concept of the song is very disturbing if you think about it like this. Although the title Gospel refers to the type of music used in the song, it is also a reference to something else: the perspective of the whole story. Gospel means "good message" or " good word" but it is also referred to as "the word of God".

And in this case, the word of the gods of Olympus. Or even Zeus himself. But do you realize what that means? This story is told from the perspective of the Olympians. But what about any input from a neutral party? Or even a question or two from Hades himself about the situation from his point of view?

Nope. It's just the Olympian's perspective. That's probably why Hades is depicted with more monstrous features, because they saw him as the villain.

Keep this Gospel detail in mind, because it comes in as a very important factor later on.

Now, where to begin?

The Titans

From what I could gather the titans are the primal monsters of this whole movie. They're mindless powerhouses that walk the face of the earth until Zeus comes along and traps them under the ocean. The only way to free them is to wait for the planets in the solar system to align perfectly, which in turn should cut a path through the waters and, with the help of a god, free them.

And right off the bat, there are several things that I'm questioning. Like, If Zeus put them down there in the first place, then what's to stop him from doing it again? Why is Hercules the only one who can beat the titans in round two? And despite the almighty power of the Olympian counsel, how did dozens, if not hundreds of gods lose to the titans when Zeus defeated them by himself in the first place? And how in Hade's name did Hercules beat them all? And he's lesser than all the gods at this point! How?! HOW?!??!!!

Besides that, there's not to much else to say about them. But they could be important...

Olympus

Okay, there's a lot of things I've noticed about Olympus itself. Btw, I'm not talking about the gods of Olympus, just the place itself.

Firstly, everything is made of clouds. If something gets destroyed, then it automatically repairs itself. But I think that the cloud structures of the buildings isn't just a callback to the heavens, but it reminds me of a place that seems unreal. Like, something like this isn't supposed to exist. "It's too good to be true" kinda place. It looks like a paradise, like a perfect place to live, like a place everyone would want to live.

Which brings me to my next observation: the gates to Olympus are closed. I feel like this detail is more important than you may realize. It could mean that only the gods and goddesses are allowed up here, it could mean that you need to earn your ticket there as well. One things for sure, not just anyone can waltz up there like they own the place, there's a certain type of person that's allowed up here. If you don't fit the status quo, then you aren't welcome.

Besides the gates being closed, anyone who can go over or are authorized can and do go in. But don't expect to get there without a ticket.

The gods

This is where things get dark.

The gods and goddesses of Olympus are very chill up close the first time we see them. They seem like nice people, just hanging out in heaven enjoying a paradise. They got invited to a party to celebrate a reasonable event that anyone should enjoy. Nothing seems to be wrong about this, right?

Well, when Hades enters the picture for the first time the atmosphere gets dark. It's because it's a very rare occurrence for the god of the underworld to be in Paradise. Even the other gods are wary of his presence. But Zeus did invite him because they're brothers, right? Family inviting family for a nice reunion? Hades is just being ungrateful, he's killing the mood and it's his fault, right?

No. It isn't Hades fault for anything. Mostly.

Remember what I said about the Gospel truth? How the story it told from the prospective of the Olympians? This is where that prospective comes into play.

Hades is just terrible from the olympian point of view. Is he actually bad though? No. I think that Hades is better than all the gods on Olympus combined. And the interactions tell us a lot, and give us information to back this up.

For one Hades says that most of what the gods actually do is just...well... nothing. They just hang out on Olympus partying and enacted what they call "divine justice" on the mortals. They just cash royalty sacrifices from their temples on earth, get human worship, and laze around while they do next to nothing. We even see this later in the movie.

Hades on the other hand has the full time job of ruling the underworld, which I might add is a huge responsibility. You gotta make sure that the dead come to the underworld, make sure they get the proper judgement, and you need to make sure they don't try to escape into the living world. This job takes up most of Hade's time, but like I mentioned in a previous post about Ignihyde being about adapting, Hades manages to make the job doable by only one person keeping the underworld in order. But even with the shortcuts involved, it's still a pretty hard job.

And get this, Zeus gave...no forced this job on to Hades. The poor guy didn't even get a say in the matter. He didn't get to choose, but instead a cosmic rando of a brother just walked up to him and said " Hey, bro! Imma gonna give you a job away from home that's gonna be a bit tough, but don't worry! All you gotta do is keep an entire realm that is just as big if not bigger than Olympus under control. Make sure the dead don't come up to the surface to start a zombie apocalypse! Okay? Okay! Love ya! Thanks!"

And Zeus doesn't even bother to help Hades in anyway. So basically, while the gods just sit on cloud cushions doing next to nothing, Hades is down in the underworld doing an important, thankless job just because his younger brother gave him that responsibility without his input.

I did say Olympus was full of nice people, I never said they were good.

And what Zeus did to Hades? It's disgusting because Hades did nothing to deserve this treatment. And wanna know something else? Inviting Hades to a party on Olympus is just a huge insult rather than a nice reunion. Because Zeus is basically saying, " Hey bro! Welcome back to the paradise we practically kicked you out of! It's such a nice party we're having, reminding you of everything your missing out on! Isn't my son adorable? It's so nice that he was born into a place like this, and loved by everyone just because his father is the king. Btw, no one finds your jokes funny because, if we're being honest, you don't really belong here!" And Zeus even has the audacity to tell Hades to stay longer. Wanna know why he does that? It's because if Zeus just told Hades to leave then it would make Zeus look bad, telling his own brother to go. In reality, it would be nicer to Hades to just tell him he's not wanted than making yourself look better by keeping him in a place that's out of his league.

So I'm asking the question, is Hades right to try and take Olympus?

In many cases, yes. However the way he goes about it isn't that great. But honestly, I don't blame him for wanting to tear his deadbeat family apart.

Another question that I ask myself: If Hades was allowed to stay in and rule Olympus, would he do a better job?

Actually, yes. I believe he would, because even though Hades would enjoy himself up there, he has a productive personality. He managed to make running the underworld easier for himself, so it would be cake for Hades to be in charge of Olympus. Not only that, but he could do so much better because he would not just find ways to cut corners with quality work, his presence would make things farer for everyone else.

Remember what I said earlier about the status quo? That only the gods are allowed on Olympus? Hades may be a god, but it's made clear from his first appearance and the Olympian's reactions that he doesn't fit the status quo. Monsters, and other creatures don't fit the mold either, and are gazed upon as, well, monsters. But, if Hades was in charge, then I'm willing to bet he would try and find a use for the cast outs. After all, in the underworld, he has Cerberus guarding the dead, Pain and Panic working as minions carrying out smaller jobs for the god, and the Fates, who are informants giving Hades accurate information. All of the characters above don't fit the status quo, and yet, Hades still relies on them to lend a hand and trusts they'll do their jobs. (They don't always, but at least they try.)

If I'm being honest here, I don't think that Hades isn't worthy of Olympus, I think Olympus isn't worthy of Hades. Because as far as we've seen, none of the gods even come close to doing something as important or as difficult as Hades.

The Olympus Tech Company And what it might be like

So, taken all this information about Olympus, what do we think the OTC is like?

The answer is a garbage company.

Its probably just like any mega corporation that hires underpaid workers who work in poor conditions while the higher-ups do next to nothing, living a life of luxury while certain people below them are working hard to earn a living.

That's the basic gist of the company. They probably don't let anyone move up the ranks unless that person is appealing in some way. Basically if you fit their status quo, then you get a raise, maybe a better position. Who knows? Maybe they steal ideas from their lower employees. They don't actually care about any of them though.

And the stuff they program and produce is probably something like today's corporations would be able to produce. Their company is modern, but not advanced, though they probably think it's advanced compared to lesser companies. The type of technology their company produces is most likely the equivalent to our modern day tablets, phones, and computers. Just stamp a brand on it and OMG you've got the latest tech from the OTC. They probably also care about quantity over quality, meaning that they're willing to sell more of their products rather than products of good condition. Unless you wanna pay more for quality.

What about interns? What sort of treatment do they get?

Idia got an invitation to become an intern during his fourth year, and that's supposed to be a big deal, given how rare they are. But if we're right about the company being garbage, would they show that to interns? Probably not because that could cause a dent in their reputation. As for treatment of the interns, they would get treated well enough, definitely better than the factory workers who have been in the company way longer.

So comparing the OTC to Ignihyde, The OTC would definitely have more respect (which they do not deserve) and Ignihyde would be more advanced (but they're not too big on credit).

Olympus and OTC comparison

What do both places and people have in common?

Both have Lazy higher-ups who take all the credit

Both have a class in the company who don't fit the status quo

While the Olympians do nothing, the OTC's technology refects the higher-ups lazy attitudes

Both the highest don't care about the people below them

Both will use whatever means necessary to secure their reputation, wealthe, and possition

Hades and Idia comparison

Both do important jobs that they had no say in getting ( they didn't ask for this, guys)

Both feel left out, but have gotten used to it overtime

Both are good at finding shortcuts and making good use of resources

Both can change their strategy when the situation calls for it

Both don't fit the status quo

Both disapprove of the normal people ( Idia thinks they're just NPCs while Hades thinks the dead are boring)

Both hate people, and they both probably have bad blood within their families

So basically Idia's reaction if he ever got to see the OTC up close? He'd either nope the heck outa there, or if he ever took the opportunity and made it big in the company, he'd turn it on it's head and completely reform it.

OTC vs Ignihyde

So what kinda conflict is gonna strike between these two very different places?

Well, to start off, I wasn't sure what kind of conflict would strike out between an NRC dorm and an entire company. So, again I looked at Hercules and picked out the first big enemy. So, let's look at the threat at the beginning of the movie, the Titans.

I said they would be important somehow, and at first, I wasn't sure. I tried thinking of something that could fit as a titanic threat. Maybe an unstable invention, a nuclear weapon, or perhaps a powerful discovered Magical artifact? All things considered, no matter what is was, it was going to be imprisoned by the CEO of the Olympus Tech Company for not just safety reasons, but for research purposes. The problem was coming up with what exactly.

And then, the realization hit me with the force of Ares's chariot.

Ortho Shroud is based off of the Titans from the movie.

Yes, yes, I know. Outrageous claim. But there is a lot of evidence to support this Theory.

Firstly, the Titans were seen as huge primal monsters causing endless natural disasters such as hurricanes, volcanoes, and earthquakes. They were left unchecked until Zeus imprisoned them all.

Taking a look at Ortho, we've seen time and time again that he's capable of causing mass destruction as well. His archetype gear fired a powerful beam of magic that destroyed a tree, his star gazer gear is capable of punching through storm clouds (which, btw are huge) tearing up the sports field in the process, and he almost leveled the entire college during the Ghost marriage event. And these are only a handful of times we've seen him ready to use violence and destruction as the solution to the problems at hand. Basically, Idia is good at designing destructive weapons, and Ortho's outfits are perfect examples of this. Not to mention there was more than one Titan and Ortho has several different outfits each one capable of causing a different kind of mass destruction.

The next, and probably the most important tie these two groups have in common is this: lightning.

Zeus imprisoned the Titans with his thunderbolts, and they hold a grudge against him because of it. They don't like lightning.

Well, guess what? Ortho doesn't like lightning either. Now, we don't know exactly why. There a number of different reasons, and here are a few guesses:

Lightning killed the original Ortho

He can malfunction due to a lightning strike

It's a part of the Shroud family curse

He thinks its annoying

We still don't know exactly why, but a distaste for lighting is a definite connection.

And what happened to the Titans? They were imprisoned by Zeus.

And what do you think's gonna happen to Ortho in the next chapter?

Once the OTC finds out the truth about Ortho, and that he's actually a robot, they're gonna want answers. Why is your brother a robot? How did he manage to build something like this? It's just an AI, right?

And when they see how much damage Ortho can cause, the head of the company is going to want him contained. So the base of conflict between dorm and company? It's not just Ortho that's at stake, but the entire dorm. The OTC may be a bigger deal than Ignihyde, but the dorm is probably centuries ahead of any tech company. In a previous post, I listed off a few things I wanted to see as Ignihyde's unique feature. One of the things that I mentioned is a data archive. If the dorm has a library for all their knowledge, which probably contains lots of info for magical technically, then who wouldn't say that could be of some value to the Olympus Tech Company?

I wouldn't be surprised if the OTC took some of it's inspiration from the actual disney company in america because those guys are basically known for taking something, rewriting and rebranding it, then claiming all the credit for whatever they did. It would make perfect sense to have the company based off of the real life company who it's owned by. The whole Hercules movie was written by two people who highlighted disney's flaws of merchandising and branding and threw those into the movie. A subtle but realistic joke about Hercules's popularity and how it's used by the company.

The OTC and their possible ties to RSA

Now, it's not just going to be The Olympus Tech Company vs Ignihyde this chapter, we've still got RSA to worry about. Throwing an entire school towards an entire dorm would be a little unfair, so the rest of NRC would definitely be involved with the annual school vs school Magift tournament.

I've already covered the possibility of RSA cheating for a century in a row. I'm holding on to that theory because if these bozos win without some kinda godly trump card or rule violation and just because they're the perfect players from the perfect hero school, I'm gonna burn that prep academy to the ground, sow the ground with salt, and throw the ashes of the school into a volcano! I'll take great pleasure watching that volcano erupt, destroying the remains of that blasted, stupid institution once and for all!

Alright, you get the point. Making a perfect academy would be the worst thing you can do.

But what if it's not just the Magift tournament? What if they were cheating at the VDC as well?

How could they though? It's decided by a majority vote which is done in real time by the people. How could they tamper with the people's votes?

They messed with the voting system. And the OTC were sponsoring that, right? The Olympus tech company is responsible for NRC losing again. Now, I'm not saying that they convinced more people to vote for RSA, I'm saying they actually messed with the numbers. And since they sponsored the system, all those votes were completely at their mercy. They could've made some invalid, deleted a few, and in the end the results were the same. RSA came out on top.

But do you notice how close the match was? By just one vote. I think that originally, NRC was ahead by a few, so the OTC cut some votes off from the original winners to make it look like it was a close game, but RSA was victorious.

I think Neige's supporters were in on the secret. They knew the game was rigged in their favor, and they knew they would win. Did you really think that they were just reassuring Neige just to make him feel more confident? They were stating the fact. They were definitely in on it.

Now the question: why would the OTC go up against NRC? Why help RSA win?

There are at least two possibilities as to why. But both depends on a certain factor, the character based off of Hercules himself.

Possiblity #1: Vil Schoenheit is also based off of Hercules

Both have a similar pasts (minus the godly background) but both do have a father in a higher possition.

Vil is going up against Idia in the next chapter. The chapter might have an important element of heros and villains. And we may see where Vil tries to play the role of the hero.

So, what does this have to do with the OTC?

The Olympus tech company's reason for cheating would be in this case that they were bribed by RSA. They tampered with the voting for money.

Very dirty of them, but because of corporate greed? Why not?

Possiblity#2: there is a new character who fills the base and the role of Hercules

This one is probably the more likely one, as it would not only give us a chance to meet more RSA students, but also the head CEO of the OTC.

In this case, the CEO would be based off of Zeus, and he would have a son based off of Hercules. The Hercules character would attend RSA, and maybe have a few friends who are based off of Hercules's friends (Random thing where he's gay for Twisted!Megera, but that's just a joke.) Basically, it would follow the equivalence rule about the hero and villain counterparts. After all, Hades went up against Hercules, not Zeus. Having Idia and Twisted!Hercules competing in Magift against each other would make the most sense.

Now this would be where the OTC motive for rigging the voting system come in. Twisted!Zeus is the head of the OTC, and his son attends one of the academies with a representative from that same academy. It would make RSA look bad for losing, the same academy his son attends. Why not push the votes in RSA'a favor to ensure that the students of the academy keep their flawless reputations?

Of course, it's possible for it to be a combination of both possibilities.

And if the OTC is sponsoring the score boards for the Magift tournament, who's to say they won't do the same thing again?

But, there's something they never considered about this year's Magift tournament.

Tipping the scales

RSA students most likely have been taught to work together. This is a good thing for them. They've been taught how to function as a unit, how to help each other through hardships, and to come out victorious together. This is all fine, and I'm willing to bet that the teachers at RSA have taught this lesson to the students as a traditional one. It's always been there. And it's known for this tradition

NRC students have always been asked the question: what do you want? They persue their own goals and dreams, rarely working with others to come out on top. And when they do work together, it's usually on conditions. Crowley's probably been at the college since the start, and has not just taught the students to not rely on anyone but themselves, but also the harsh cruel reality of the world: Happy endings don't just happen on their own. You need to work for them. The students don't rely on each other, and never have.

Both academies's greatest strengths is the others greatest weakness. RSA's weakness is it's students falling apart and being separated. NRC's weakness is the students working together with no motivation, because they aren't used to working with people they hate, it's constant fighting among themselves.

But that system is about to be broken by one person: MC

MC has been teaching the students to work together and establish friendships with each other. Through the NRC students misadventures, MC has been teaching them to overcome hatred and ban together. So now, not only are the NRC students capable of working as strong individuals, but they can now function as a unit as well.

This eliminates the system of strength and weakness because now, RSA has the weakness of not being able to function as individuals. Not all students suffer from this, but most would. But the ability to work with others as well as by yourself would give NRC the advantage in a fair game. But if we count the fact that RSA has the cheats and support, this game was never ment to be fair.

So to sum it all up:

The OTC is a company full of jerks

Ortho is based off of the Titans and needs to be protected at all costs

Ignihyde must protect their entire dorm from the dark crime of plagiarism

The OTC may be helping RSA cheat due to bribery and/or family connections

We can't trust anything sponsored by the OTC

And MC is going to help our bois destroy the competition

Or, again I could be horribly wrong.

Thanks for reading!!! And....

Before i official end the post, I'd like to say two quick things. The first is a mini Theory regarding the release date for Chapter 6. It could either be with the chapters story line time in late May, or the sixth chapter is released on the sixth day of the sixth month, or more specifically, June 6.

Secondly, thank you for 50 followers!!! Even though I don't spend all of my time on tumblr, it's a great comfort to me knowing someone does read what I write ( even though most of it seems outrageous and incredibly farfetched.) You all mean the world to me! Thanks!!!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland theory #i did a thing #twst #ignihyde #Olympus Tech Company #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland idia #rsa we're doomed #rook i swear if you know what's going on but don't tell us i give you a taste of my shoe #vil schoenheit #MC #Crowley #we're doomed #disney twisted wonderland

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

Abuse in Fiction

I think I spoke of a related issue once already, but well, I do not mind repeating myself. In a way, I even enjoy it, I suppose. It’s mildly personal this time too, hm.

So, as some of you may know, I am of a strong belief that fiction should not be hopeless and that it is easy to write a story full of despair - and harder to undo all the harm that’s been done. However, I am also of belief that... My views never matter more than that of another person, and that we are all entitled to our own stances, morals and opinions, for at least as long as we do not enforce those on others. (For the record here, I do not consider hatred an opinion or standard of any type; another distinction that needs to be made: facts are not opinions).

As such, the following will be my opinions, and nothing more. Whether you agree with them or disagree - this is yours, not mine. I do not aim to convince anybody to see the world the way I do.

Well, where do I even start? One step at a time, I suppose.

Bad people do good things. & Good people do bad things.

You need knowledge to realise what is abusive.

Themes of abuse are not inherently harmful.

Gatekeeping requires proof.

What can I do?

A little bit personal something.

Bad people do good things & Good people do bad things

As alluring as it may be, the world cannot be split in neat categories of pure goodness and pure evil. What makes a person good? What makes them bad? Is the good one that who does not harm others? It is generally the definition of goodness I go by, and yet - it is not absolute.

What I’m trying to say is that, to try and split people into good-bad categories based on a single action is... Not really productive. It may be an error. It may be a result of something you are not aware of. And, yes, it may turn out they are indeed not a “good person”, whichever definition you go by - but it also may not.

We are talking about fiction here, however. Not killing, not abusing somebody yourself, but an act of writing about it. If it is tagged appropriately - then who is being hurt? If it is tagged, the person who read it consented to it in the first place. They could have withdrawn. If it is not tagged... Then, it brings me to my second point.

You need knowledge to realise what is abusive.

I would love to see a world in which every single person is educated and capable of recognising different forms of abuse. However, we do not live in such a world. We live in one where access to sex education is still limited in plenty places, where access to mental health services may be restricted, where mental illness is sometimes still a cultural taboo, where humans are being trafficked, abused in all form, dehumanised, enslaved, all to the benefit of rich countries. We do not live in an ideal world, so to require people to act in ideal ways? I consider it ludicrous.

Plenty cultures around the world glamourise abuse - or so it is at least in Europe. What books are best-sellers? 50 Shades of Grey. 365 Days was somewhat big too. If a person cannot get education from a reliable source, if the culture perpetuates the belief that a form of abuse is not in fact abusive, or what is arguably worse, is well-deserved, then how will they know it is in fact hurtful?

You must realise that, even for victims of abuse, it may take decades to learn why they were hurting, to realise that something was in fact wrong. You must realise those people may include themes of abuse in their work thinking that this is how it just is.

Is it perpetuating the harmful norm? It is.

But are they doing it consciously? Or is it the by-product of their culture? And if so, is it their fault?

Is ostracising them and calling them morally wrong doing anything to counter the hurtful norm? Do we need to abandon a topic completely, as some approaches to it may be hurtful? Or do we need to deconstruct it? To realise what beliefs linger behind the words?

Themes of abuse are not inherently harmful.

Abuse victims do not always get their feelings validated. Not only that, they may lack a safe space to share their experiences in any form at all. Fiction provides such an outlet.

Are all depictions of abuse good? Well, of course, no. Romanticising abuse justifies it. It normalises it. We should strive not to ever include such a thing in a work. Many hurtful beliefs can be transferred through fiction - “abuse made them stronger”, “abuse made them kinder”, “once abused will turn into the abuser”, “if you were abused, you do not have a choice but to abuse”, “a parent and child always have some magical bond tying them together”. The list goes on and on. Some people use it as a shock factor, something that does not have any lasting and realistic influence over the characters - and that, in my opinion, is disrespectful.

However, if one were to ban abuse from fiction, they would have to cut out all the scenes calling out abuse for what it is. They would have to cut out hopeful stories, to take away from what may lead somebody to realise they are not treated appropriately. People learn through stories too - and some use fiction to process the issues they faced.

Gatekeeping requires proof.

As you might have noticed, I spoke about how themes of abuse resonate with abuse survivors themselves. Of course, some will not need it. Some will avoid the topic completely.

But, the question is: so perhaps, only abuse survivors should be entitled to writing about abuse?

Well... No. First, it requires proof. Then, it would require some sort of grading system - and that by itself is so dehumanising and humiliating I do not think I have to explain it. Also, the fact that somebody survived abuse does not mean they worked through all the toxicity it brought upon them and that they are capable of not repeating the hurtful messages.

Some people survived abuse and they are not aware of it. Does it make them a bad, hideous person if they include themes of what they considered normal in their work? Or perhaps they do not view it as ordinary, but cannot see a reflection of that in their own situation? Are they morally detestable? Or are they a victim?

What can I do?

Does it mean you should approve all depictions of abuse in fiction? No. Absolutely not, never. It means you should be critical about it, and that stigmatising people does not solve the issue.

Be critical of what you read.

Educate yourself on what is and what is not abusive.

If your friend (or a person you feel comfortable pointing it out to) made something toxic seem romantic/normal - tell them. (It can be a rather emotional discussion, so really, make sure you can handle it).

Do your best not to romanticise abuse in your own work.

If you do choose to write about abuse, make sure to label it clearly.

If it is a NSFW type of content, and the characters are acting out a scenario - show that it is a scenario played out between two consenting adults, and that it can and it will end the moment one of them opts out. If it is not consensual and was not meant to be consensual, show it for what it is - abuse.

Educate yourself, and if possible others, on what is and is not appropriate.

And, if you interacted with a piece of media that bothered you personally:

Block the author of it. Do not interact with the rest of their work.

If it is not labelled appropriately, do tell your friends of it. Warn them.

If you enjoy other works by the author and still want to follow them - ask them to label abuse. They may do it, they may not do it. Decide whether you still want to follow them afterwards.

A little bit personal something.

Content Warnings: discussion of abuse, domestic abuse, suicide mentions, self-harm, rape

Well, I never hid the fact that I lived through domestic abuse. There are authors in our fandom whose works I avoid specifically because of their poor handling of themes of abuse at the hands of a parent.

It took me 15 years to find words to describe my pain. I did not know I was abused for the majority of the time it happened. It was my reality - it was just how the world functioned. Did it spill into my early writing? Yes. But not in the ways you would have expected. My characters were not abusive themselves. They idealised suicide. They would hurt themselves, although not with blades or anything of the like - and at the time, I did not know it was self-harm either. In the plot, they were being abused, and they would come out of it victorious.

I am comfortable saying this. But somebody may not be. They may not know yet.

This post was sparked by a person calling people who write rape “sick in the head” (ugh, stigmatisation of mentally ill people aside, at least this time, okay?). I do not condone romanticising rape. It is disgusting, as any form of abuse. I blocked authors who did not label it and thus exposed me to sensitive content without my consent. I did not go through it and I do not wish for anybody to go through it. However, the post lacked this sort of nuance. It was about the entirety of it, however it was handled.

I do not know why somebody writes it. I do not think I have the right to demand an answer to that. I do not have the right to decide who was hurt “bad enough” (as if something like so existed in the first place) to touch the subject.

I also do not want to stigmatise people who did not get proper education on the matter. How many of them were raped and did not know that lack of consent equals rape? How many of them realised or will realise it after years? How many were failed by their education system, were victims to the times they were born in, to the culture?

Because, remember, to plenty people rape is something that happens in the black alley, at hands of a stranger. Not something done by their partner, when they hope to just get done with the thing and move on - after all, it happened to them. And said partner is not a bad person, so how could he do something bad?

I cannot say whether a person is processing something. I cannot say whether a person consumed so much of modern popular media and lacks knowledge and experience necessary to understand that scenes depicted in it are in fact ABUSE. Sometimes I am near stating that media almost conditions us to accept some forms of abuse as normal.

What I can say is that, well, if you make writing about one type of abuse a taboo, another one may follow.

I do not think this approach answers the problem of why do multiple people, across different fandoms and countries, perceive something abusive as “not that bad”, even bordering appropriate. I do not think that stigmatising the people who write such things is going to change much. It will certainly not target the ones who need education.

And well, it removes the opportunities to critically approach the matter. I know it is hard. But people need to understand why certain narrative choices are harmful and hurtful, not just be presented with “writing about abuse is evil”. We still need spaces to safely discuss abuse.

People need to understand why something is bad, not just label it as bad and be done with it.

#lorei spoke

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hutchhitched · 3 years

Text

The Marrow of the Story

Written by: @hutchhitched

Prompt 17: Everlark enemies to lovers, a long-standing grudge (could be anything, even simple) but somehow it is discovered that Katniss is a bone marrow match for Peeta. If she doesn’t donate he will die. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Ratings/Warnings: E

A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic and the world slowly ground to a halt. This is the eighth of the nine. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays. I wrote most of this a few months ago before getting stuck on some transitions. Since then, the teenage daughter of one of my closest friends has been diagnosed with B-Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia and must undergo a bone marrow transplant this spring. As such, this story became much more personal than a prompt. I’m sure I’ve taken some liberties with the medical aspects and ethics of this story. They are intended for story-telling purposes only. K, I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt.

“Ms. Everdeen, I need your signature,” my administrative assistant says briskly as she enters my office.

“What’s this for?” I ask as I scribble my signature on the form.

She takes the manila folder and hands me another, indicating that I need to sign it, too. “Maintenance orders. The library and those lockers in the freshman wing that don’t lock properly.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

“Oh, and you have a call waiting on line three. I told him you were busy, but…” She shrugs as she walks out of the room, and I sigh and drop down in my desk chair. It’s been a really long day.

“Ms. Everdeen, Panem North. How can I help you?”

A rumbly, entirely masculine voice reverberates through the line, and I wrap the phone cord around my left index finger. Even before he’s spoken three words, I’m already impatient for the call to end.

“Ms. Everdeen. It’s Peeta Mellark. How are you today?”

I narrow my eyes and resist the urge to slam the phone down in the receiver. Mr. Mellark is not my favorite person. He’s the principal at Panem South, my high school’s cross-town rival, and he and I have always clashed. It might be his smug arrogance when he explains his educational philosophy, or it could be the way he surveys me and then turns away in dismissal every time I see him. Whatever it is, I’ve never been able to stand him, and it’s obvious he feels the same if our interactions at every systemwide meeting and educational conference is any indication. My greatest fantasy consists of him being fired in disgrace. A close second is his forced transfer to another school—any school, so long as it’s out of state and I never have to see him again.

“What do you want, Mellark?” I snap. I have so little patience today I’m afraid I might actually use profanity if he doesn’t hang up within ten seconds.

“Doing that well, huh? Always good to hear a friendly voice when I have to contact you.”

“I thought you were on medical leave,” I say with little compassion. It’s not my finest moment, I know that, but I really loathe this man.

“I am,” he admits. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need your help. I know we’re not exactly friends, but—”

“Friends?” I laugh. “Are you kidding me? I don’t even like you. There’s no way I’d be your friend. Not even if you were dying, and I had the cure.”

Silence stretches across the line, and I cover my face at what I’ve said. The words are rather unforgivable, and I open my mouth to apologize when he says something I don’t expect to hear.

“Well, I guess that answers my question. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“What question? You didn’t ask me anything,” I say, exasperated.

He sighs heavily, and I almost throw the phone across the room. “Katniss—sorry, Ms. Everdeen—I don’t really know how to tell you this, so I’ll just ask you to check your email. I think you’ll find something there from me. It’s from my personal account, so you might have to look in your spam folder. It’ll explain everything. Have a good day.”

And then he hangs up without even bothering to say goodbye. That complete and utter bastard hung up on me. I mean, I wanted him to leave me alone, but he could have at least had the courtesy to say goodbye before cutting off the conversation.

I know I’m being unreasonable, but I don’t have time to deal with it at the moment. The last bell of the day is about to ring, and I hurry from my office to oversee students loading onto buses and wandering the parking lot as cars zip in and out of traffic. It’s one of the most nerve-wracking parts of my days, and I’ve almost forgotten Mr. Mellark’s phone call by the time I make it back to my office. If I’m lucky, I can finish within the hour and get home before dark. I hate it when the sunlight hours are so short the day quits before I do.

I’m just about to shut down my computer when I remember the aggravating phone call. I consider forgetting about it and walking away, but something tells me to open my junk folder and see what that twit’s request is. And then I see it, and I want to throw up.

Dear Ms. Everdeen,

I know we aren’t exactly friends, but I’ve always admired your ferocity and willingness to give everything you have for your students. Compassion in education isn’t hard to find, but the way you fight for your school, faculty, staff, and students has been inspiring to watch over the past few years.

I mean that. It’s not a ploy to win you over, even though I have a gigantic favor to ask of you.

You might remember that I’ve been on medical leave several times over the past few years. It’s difficult doing my job when I’m ill, so I’ve tried to hide the significance of my condition. The truth is I have a rare bone marrow disease that, without a transplant, is terminal.

Since this is not official business, I’m writing from my personal email, but the favor I’m asking does require your professional approval. With the upcoming blood drive in our district, health clinics have volunteered to be on hand to administer tests for the bone marrow registry. That would streamline the process and allow potentially myself and countless others in need of a transplant a match from someone who might not otherwise volunteer to be tested.

Please consider allowing your school to be part of this. It might save a life.

With admiration, Peeta Mellark

****

Of course I end up giving approval. I’m not a monster, no matter what Mr. Mellark thinks. In good faith, I’m tested as well, and two weeks later, I get a phone call telling me I’m a match for someone in need. By a dramatic, ironic twist of fate, it’s Peeta Mellark who needs my marrow. Thankfully, I’m able to take some time to process, and it’s torture as I weigh the pros and cons.

A few days pass before I work up the courage to call him. I haven’t heard from him since the phone call letting me know about the email. I’m sure his health takes up much of his energy, but I’m oddly saddened by his absence. I’m also angry with him, but that’s not fair. It’s not his fault that the favor he asked of me will result in me giving up a part of my body and DNA.

“Hello?”

“So, what is it you have exactly?” I ask and wince at how detached and unfeeling I sound. I’m anything but that. My squeezing heart is more than enough evidence to prove otherwise. Still, I’m barely holding it together. I can’t let go of the control or I might collapse, and then what?

“Ms. Everdeen?”

“Katniss. If you can ask me to consider donating bone marrow, then you can call me by my first name.”

“Okay, Katniss.” There’s a long pause before he continues. He’s tentative when he finally says, “So, you decided to participate on top of allowing the clinic access to your school?”

“I did, and I’ll repeat. What is it you have exactly?”

The words sound just as cold the second time, and I hold my breath until he finally answers.

“I have something called aplastic anemia. I’ve had it since college. Been treating it with blood transfusions for the past decade or so,” he explains with no trace of self-pity or false bravado. His tone is pragmatic, which is almost heart-breaking considering what he’s facing. “There aren’t too many of us with AB- blood in the world, so, I don’t know. When I saw the option of getting more involvement, I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask for help. Directly, I mean. Instead of waiting for the system to work. The worst you could say was no, right?”

“I’ve already said no to you several times,” I remind him, and he chuckles in response.

“Yeah. You’ve fought me on every philosophical disagreement we’ve ever had.”

“That’s because you have really stupid ideas about what works sometimes.”

His chuckle morphs into a full-fledged laugh, and it makes my lips twitch. “You reject me with aplomb, too. Thanks for not holding back.”

A grin quirks at the corner of my mouth. He’s funny, I realize. I guess I probably could have figured that out earlier if I’d ever bothered to listen to his words instead of merely hating him.

“Well, you know. I’m not very good at making friends.”

The words catch in my throat as I say them. It’s a true statement, but I hadn’t comprehended how much it bothered me until I heard them out loud. I don’t sound matter-of-fact like he does. Loneliness and sadness echo in my voice. I could take some lessons on self-pity from Peeta Mellark, apparently.

“I’d like to be your friend,” he says softly.

I blink away tears because my insides have melted into a very unprofessional puddle of goo. It’s a good thing we’re not interacting about anything regarding our jobs.

“You just want my bone marrow,” I mumble, and my heart jumps at his soft chuckle.

“Your bone marrow?”

I inhale shakily and bite my lip. Finally, when I’ve regained a semblance of control, I answer in a quiet admission, “I’m a match.”

“You’re my match?” His disbelief echoes across the line, and it breaks my heart to hear the trepidatious undercurrent in his tone.

“I am.”

“Oh…”

“So, you want my bone marrow.”

Silence stretches between us, and I hear rustling before he responds carefully. “I’ll start with that. We can talk about what else I’d like to have later.”

His voice is warm and soothing, and I feel myself softening. I’ve known that I’m going to be his donor since I knew he needed me, but it feels more personal now. More like he’s my responsibility, my ally, and not my enemy.

“Okay.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks tentatively, “Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it.”

There’s almost no sound from his end of the line, just his breath in my ear. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking or feeling. It must be a massive amount of relief mixed with a hundred other emotions. Like me, I’m sure he hates asking for help, and to have to request it from me must have been terrible for him. I don’t want him to feel beholden. He doesn’t deserve to have to be grateful for the rest of his life just because he needs something I can willingly give.

“Thank you,” he finally says, and the simplicity of it takes my breath away.

I wonder exactly what it is he’s thanking me for—his life? For being willing to grant him a favor? For not being a complete bitch to him like I have been for the past three years? It’s the least I can do for someone who’s dying. I can’t be responsible for hitting him when he’s down.

“Sure. Yeah, let me know the specifics. Or the hospital can or whatever. I’ll talk to you later.”

I end the call before he can answer, or maybe he does and I just don’t hear it. I can’t bear to listen to his voice anymore. I don’t know how much I’m going to have to actually see him to complete this process, but I’m suddenly nervous. He’s melted me with just an email and a few phone conversations. If I’m in the same room with him, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up the façade of hating him, and I need to. I can’t afford to care about him.

The next few weeks pass in a flurry of meetings with medical professionals and preparing for the surgery. I don’t see Peeta, and he doesn’t contact me. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll change my mind, or maybe he doesn’t have any interest in actually being my friend, after all. I don’t allow myself to think about why that disappoints me. Instead, I tell myself that he’s likely dealing with his own illness and concentrating on getting as healthy as possible so he can recover quicker following the procedure. Maybe I’m just making excuses for him, but I remind myself that making a friend isn’t why I’m doing this. He doesn’t owe me anything.

Suddenly, it’s the day of the surgery, and I’m terrified. I haven’t ever been on anesthesia before, barely been sick, and never had an IV. Now, I’m about to go under the knife for my mortal enemy. Okay, that’s overdramatic and hyperbolic, but I’m allowed that on the morning of a procedure that will result in me being cut open and part of my hip scraped away. I comfort myself by imagining the simple pleasures I’ll indulge in afterward—an overly sugared hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, some of those cheese buns I never allow myself to buy, highlights from a hairdresser instead of a box. Surely, I deserve those after opening myself up to…

I shut down that mode of thinking and concentrate on getting to the hospital. As nervous as I am, I manage to stop thinking and let the medical professionals do their jobs. Before I can worry about anything else, I’m on a bed and being wheeled to surgery. When I count backwards, all I see are Peeta Mellark’s deep blue eyes shining at me.

****

I blink awake to a concerned gaze. My sister’s next to my bed when I wake up and greets me with a smile.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Welcome back to the world.”

“Little Duck,” I slur with a lazy smile. “Hiiiii!”

“How do you feel?”

“Very fuzzy,” I admit after a sporadic inventory of myself. “And my ass hurts.”

“I hear that happens when somebody cuts you open. I could be wrong.”

My bubble of laughter is almost giddy, clearly an aftereffect of the anesthesia, but I still manage to ask the really important question. “When can I go home?”

“A few hours, I think. Outpatient surgery, for the win!”

“I’m already thinking about how long I have to sponge bathe instead of showering. An incision on my rear end is a new one for me.”

“I bet the guy you’re giving your marrow to would be happy to help you. He must be pretty grateful,” Prim said slyly, and I roll my eyes.

“I’m guessing he’s more concerned about not dying, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I looked him up, you know. He’s very pretty.”

“He’s also an arrogant ass.”

“Speaking of arrogant asses…”

“Hey! I thought I’d gotten past being maligned by the Everdeen girls.” Gale Hawthorne’s deep bass booms from the hospital room door. “Hey, Catnip.”

“Gale! ’S so good to see you.”

“Well, Prim called. I thought maybe I should cut my business trip short and pay you a visit.”

I reach for him, and he crosses to me quickly. His hand wraps around mine, and the warmth grounds me. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my childhood best friend, and his familiarity makes me feel like I might be able to handle anything. They both keep me occupied until I’m released and then help me get settled at home. Gale and I sit on the couch and catch up while Prim makes a run for takeout.

“I couldn’t believe it when Prim called to tell me you were doing this,” he says. “Especially not for the guy you’ve been bitching to me about for the past few years.”

“I haven’t been—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You have, and we both know nobody takes up that much space in your brain unless there’s something there.”

“There’s nothing between us,” I insist and grunt when he nudges my shoulder.

“Then maybe you should figure out if there could be. I mean, you have a vested interest in the man. You have a lot in common professionally. He’s going to live a long life because of you. Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you were part of it.”

“He’s in a bubble for a few months. Recovery. No germs. All that.” I’m making excuses, and he knows it. He looks at me with pity, and I want to smack him.

“Katniss, give the guy a chance. From what you’ve told me, he’s into you. On top of the fact that he made arrangements for that massive bouquet of lilies and wildflowers over there.” He motions to the vase we brought home from the hospital. The note provides thanks for saving his life and an apology for flowers being inadequate as repayment.

“He’s not—”

“Give him a chance.”

Gale’s words wash over me, and it’s like all the painful moments and deep bouts of loneliness resurface at once. No matter what’s happened between Peeta and me, I have a connection to him now that’s deeper than our usual snipping and snark. Being forced to think about him as someone with real hopes and dreams and challenges has softened me to him, but I barely know him. Why does everyone assume he wants anything more than he’s already received?

Prim returns with food, and I’m grateful for the distraction. I promise Gale I’ll think about what he’s said as I recover, but that’s only to get him off my back. Yet, as the days pass, I can’t get Peeta Mellark out of my head. Now that I’ve saved his life, he’s got a hold on me.

****

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I expect anything from him. I’m just stopping by to see how he is, and that’s it. No expectations, no nothing. Just an attempt to make sure he’s feeling better after the transplant. I shouldn’t even be able to see him, but I called the hospital, explained the situation, and found out I’ve been approved for visiting for the past couple of weeks. Peeta must have added me to his approved list, which makes me remarkably happy. It’s been a month since the bone marrow transplant, and Peeta’s body seems to be accepting it with no problem.

Besides, no one can fault me for checking in on a sick colleague. It’s practically expected as part of my job. Except, that’s a lie. I’m not checking on anyone else who calls into work sick, but, then again, no one else called in because they had a disease that resulted in some of my own body inserted into them.

Which sounds dirty and definitely not what I should be thinking as I knock on his hospital door and peer into the room.

“Katniss!” he says as his beautiful blue eyes light up. “Please, come in.”

“I, uh… I just thought I’d check on you. Make sure my bone marrow is behaving. Not giving you any trouble.”

Oh, hell. I sound like an idiot.

“Doing beautifully. It’s almost like it knows it’ll be in trouble if it acts up. Must be the principal coming out in us.”

“Behavior issues are the least favorite part of my job.”

“Same,” he chuckles and waves me to the chair. “Sit, if you have a minute. I’d like to thank you—”

“No,” I insist. “No, you don’t have to do that.”

“Katniss, you saved my life,” he sighs. “The least you can do is let me thank you properly. Let me take you dinner sometime or something. In fact, yes. I need to do that. No expectations, no nothing. Just dinner.”

I feel an uncomfortable pang in my stomach as I hear my own thoughts repeated back to me. It’s almost like he can see inside my brain, and that’s terrifying.

“Fine,” I concede. “Dinner, but not until you’re completely recovered. I don’t want to be cause for a setback.”

“I can handle that,” he agrees and then gives me a soft, beautiful smile so incredibly shy that it feels like he’s only ever shown it to me.

I don’t even want to think about why I’m floating as I leave the hospital.

****

It’s another few months before Peeta finally insists he’s well enough and calls and invites me to the dinner I agreed to when he was in the hospital. His recovery has been rapid, and I hear through the grapevine he’s back at work and seemingly cured. I don’t know enough about his disease to know if he’s healing faster than normal or not, but I breathe easier when I hear the news. That is, until the phone rings.

“Katniss Everdeen. My savior,” he says when I answer.

“Oh, please don’t,” I gulp. “I’m no savior.”

He chuckles at my discomfort but it’s clear it’s not with any sort of malice. “Sorry. That might have been hyperbole.”

“You think?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I would like to see when you’re free for dinner. You’ve put me off long enough. I demand satisfaction. I mean, my belly does. In other words, I need food, and now that I feel well enough to consume copious amounts of it, I’d really love some company as I do that. Who better than the woman who made it happen?”

He’s so charming it makes my toes curl, which is not at all what I want. Because how am I supposed to resist that adorable smirk I know is plastered across his face when he’s sitting across the table from me and plying me with delicious food? He’s supposed to be my nemesis, and I’m not strong enough to deny him when he’s not only good and kind but also a survivor of a rare disease. I mean, that’s not even playing fair.

“You don’t have to buy me dinner,” I start, but he interrupts before I can get any farther.

“If I remember correctly, you agreed to this back in the hospital, and I know you always keep your word. I wore you down, and you said you’d go with me. Don’t go backing out on me now,” he chides. His tone remains light-hearted as he speaks, but I detect a hint of hurt below the surface. My willingness to concur seems important to him. Why, I’m not sure, but the last thing I want to do is break the fragile truce that had somehow emerged between us.

“I’ve got some back to school things coming up, so my nights are pretty full,” I protest feebly, but he just waits patiently until I relent. “Fine. Next Thursday. Does that work?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t you have meetings, too? You haven’t resigned, and I haven’t heard about it, have you?”

“No, nothing like that,” he laughs. “I’ve just been given stringent orders from Superintendent Crane to take it easy. My assistant principal is covering anything at night until October.”

“Lucky you.”

“I have a good staff,” he deflects. “Next Thursday. I’ll pick you up.”

“No! I can meet—”

But he’s already disconnected the call. I don’t even bother to wonder how he’ll figure out my address. I don’t put anything past him anymore. Other than the life-threatening illness, he seems to have beaten, Peeta Mellark has the best luck of anyone I’ve ever known.

****

“And then I lowered my hand and answered him in the most serious tone possible. I could hardly keep a straight face because I had fake buck teeth in. The poor kid looked at me like I was insane, but he didn’t ever wear the vampire teeth in class again.”

I can’t help myself as I giggle at Peeta’s story. I never giggle. It isn’t like me at all, but Peeta’s so funny and disarming over dinner, regaling me with story after story of strange behavior modifications he’d tried when he was an assistant principal and mostly in charge of discipline issues.

“I’ve gotta admit,” he says ruefully, “I don’t really miss that part of the job now that I’m head principal.”

“No, I can imagine you wouldn’t,” I agree with a smile.

Lifting my wine glass, I look at him over the rim and take a sip of the pinot. I dreaded this dinner all week, but it’s been the highlight of a pretty rough few days. I certainly wasn’t expecting to enjoy his company so much, not even after getting to know him a little bit better during his recovery. I thought his charm might wear off at some point, but he just gets more and more disarming the longer we talk. If I didn’t know better, I might think I actually like him, but that’s ridiculous. I’m just glad to have company over dinner. That’s all this is.

My cheeks flush when Peeta grins at me and sits back in his chair. He’s kept up a steady stream of witty repartee throughout the evening, but now he merely surveys me as the soft sounds of the dining room echo around us. It’s almost intimate.

“I can’t tell you how much I’m enjoying this,” he finally says. “And how grateful I am for what you did for me. I know it wasn’t an easy choice, but you… You’re an amazing woman, Katniss Everdeen. I’m in your debt forever.”

I don’t know how to answer him because I can tell he’s completely sincere. He’s not gushing or trying to butter me up. He’s genuine in his words and actions, and I’m stuck feeling guilty for treating him so poorly before his illness threw us together.

“You really don’t have to thank me anymore,” I insist. “It’s not necessary at all. I mean, what kind of an asshole would I be if I hadn’t agreed to help you? Besides, you’re a fellow principal. Administrators unite and all that.”

“Stop deflecting,” he said. “You did something really great, and it’s okay for you to take credit for it.”

Flustered, I fiddle with my napkin because I don’t want to say something stupid. He has a way of making me tongue-tied that I haven’t felt since I was a teenager. “Thanks,” I manage to mumble.

“Thank you.”

I hesitate but finally manage to choke, “You’re welcome.”

“I’d like to do this again. If you’re willing.”

His voice feels like a caress, and I lift my eyes to look at him. He’s studying me, unsmiling but not frowning, and I’m struck by how handsome he is in the dimmed light. He reaches across the table and holds his hand out to me. I stare at it for several seconds before I’m willing to reach out and accept it. He gives it a squeeze.

“How about next week? Is that too soon?”

“I— I need to check my calendar.”

“I already did. No school activities.”

“Are you—”

“I’m sure,” he insists. “Please.”

I don’t have a good excuse for saying no, so I agree. I’m still in a daze when he pulls the car to a stop in front of my house and gets out to walk me to the door. He leans in to kiss my check, but I turn my head at just the wrong time. His lips hover millimeters from my skin, and I struggle to breathe. After what feels like an eternity, he tilts his head and brushes his mouth over mine.

The earth skews off its axis. There’s no other way to describe what happens because my entire world rearranges itself in that brief moment. Much too soon, he’s backed down the sidewalk and waves goodbye to me from his car before pulling away.

****

I’m a mess by the next Friday when Peeta picks me up again for our second dinner together. I don’t know whether to call it a date or not, but the kiss the previous week indicates it could be. The night passes much the same as the previous week. He’s charming and funny and wearing the most stunning shade of green that makes his eyes sparkle turquoise. They do things to my insides. He’s a perfect gentleman as he drives me home again, walks me to the door, and kisses me softly. The situation repeats on the third and fourth and fifth time until I’m so wound up, I’m about to lose my mind. I don’t mean to complain, but my body wants more than what he’s offering.

I can’t tell if it’s deliberate or just really bad luck that our schedules don’t align for another few weeks. The days pass slowly without seeing him, although we do talk often. Some of his messages and emails make me smile when I read them, while others make me wonder if he’s flirting with me or simply being his usual friendly self.

I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out what’s happening between us. The conversation I had with Gale after my surgery flits in and out of my conscious thoughts. I don’t want to open myself up. I’ve been hurt too many times in the past, but Peeta’s wonderful—smart, compassionate, funny, respectful, and supportive. He’s also got a backbone and knows how to advocate for himself and others around him. In short, he’s exactly what I’ve always desired in a partner. It scares me to death to acknowledge that I want him to be a bigger part of my life. It terrifies me to realize I can also picture him in my bed.

Finally, we both have an evening without a work responsibility, and he asks if he can come over and make dinner when I tell him I’m simply too tired to dress up and go out to a restaurant. By the time he shows up on my doorstep with bags of groceries, my stomach’s in knots. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, it feels like we’re starting all over again.

He looks insanely good after having filled out a little since the transplant. His broad shoulders are strong underneath the soft cotton of his salmon colored sweater, and the jeans he’s wearing hug his thighs and hips like a second skin. When he turns around so I can inadvertently check out his ass, I swoon at the sight. I want my hands on that peach so badly my fingertips tingle.

He leans in to kiss me hello, and time stands still. He pauses once he’s broken the kiss, and we stare at each other for what feels like ages. Something’s changed. We’ve evolved. Our relationship’s grown while we’ve been apart. The air crackles with anticipation, and I’m beyond ready. Finally, he recovers and surveys me, taking in my black leggings, forest green tunic, and braid with a whistle. I flush scarlet at the flattery.

“Good thing I have these bags to occupy my hands,” he teases, but I swallow down disappointment. He doesn’t seem that interested in touching me, and that makes me feel like howling my disapproval.

“Maybe I should help. Give your hands a chance to…uh…stray.”

He whips his head around to stare at me, uncertainty mixing with something I can’t quite decipher. When I don’t drop my gaze, he gulps before heading into the kitchen and tossing the food on the counter. He makes himself busy while I flit around him, unsure what to do. When he finally turns his megawatt smile on me and asks me if I’d be okay cutting vegetables, I nod eagerly. If it puts me closer to him, I’m completely game. He positions me in front of a stack of carrots, potatoes, and mushrooms and turns to his own work.

We keep up a steady stream of chatter that grows increasingly flirtatious as the minutes pass. He brushes against me several times, and I can feel the electricity sparking between us. When he reaches over to take some of the diced potatoes, our hands brush, and we both jump.

“Peeta,” I sigh a second before he’s pressed against me, his chest hard against mine as he cups my jaw and kisses me.

I growl in the back of my throat at the feel of his tongue tangling with mine, and he hauls me tighter against him. He wraps my braid around his hand and tugs my head back so he can lick deeper into me. I’m shaking with desire, frantic for his hands on me. We’ve been circling each other for four years. The months since I agreed to donate my bone marrow have all been foreplay. I’m ready to give into the craving I’ve denied for far too long.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. My hands tangle in his hair, and I can’t stop the wanting whimpers that fall from me. He’s just as frantic, his hands caressing everything he can reach, until they both cup my behind and squeeze.

I realize I want to climb him like a tree. There’s no shame in admitting it. His body’s hard under his clothing, and he’s rigid as iron against my hip. When he thrusts his right hand under the waistband of my leggings, I don’t even try to stop him. Instead, I moan when his fingers stroke the patch of hair between my legs.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Katniss, tell me to stop if this isn’t okay. This is— You’re… You have to stop me now if you’re going to.”

I don’t stop him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My limbs aren’t working other than to cling to him. My eyes roll back into my head when he breaches me. His mouth works magic while his fingers plunder and stroke. I’m begging him, my voice hoarse and broken. It’s been so very long, and I don’t have the patience to wait anymore.

I’m pressed against the counter, my back bent as he fingers me. I don’t care about dinner or anything else except the feel of his calloused palm cupping me while he dips in and out in an uneven rhythm designed to stop me from falling over the edge too soon. His breaths are ragged, and I wrap my left leg around him to pull him closer. It also gives him better access, which he uses to his advantage.

I’m sopping wet, squelching as he thrusts in and out, his thumb circling my clit and forcing wrecked squeals I’ve never made until experiencing the glory of Peeta Mellark finger fucking me in my own kitchen. My whole body trembles as the tension builds. I just need a release. That’s all I care about in the moment. The entire world could be exploding outside, and I wouldn’t care. He’s driving me crazy, and I don’t want to be sane. I just need him.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, sweetheart,” he groans in my ear. “Wanted to feel you on me, hot and wet and sweet. I’ve dreamed about making you come. Imagined it so many times. Wanted to feel you fall apart because of me. You’re almost there, aren’t you, honey? I can tell you’re trying so hard not to let go. I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you.”

I’ve abandoned all sense of propriety. I’m moaning and rutting against him. I don’t know who I am anymore, but then everything makes sense in a rush of euphoria. I come with a scream that Peeta swallows with his kiss. He holds me close, rocking me through the spasms, grounding me, and cheering me on as I quake and shudder.

I blink as I come back to myself, but he’s there. His face comes into focus, and I give him a dopey grin that makes him chuckle. He welcomes me back with a kiss as he frees his hand. My pants are moist, and I wiggle at how uncomfortable it is. Still, I think it’s worth the discomfort. I feel like walking liquid.

“I think we burned dinner.”

“Don’t care,” I tell him through a kiss. “We can order pizza. Not hungry anyway.”

“Well, I am,” he jokes as he proceeds to devour me.

We haven’t talked. I have no idea where we stand, but that doesn’t matter. Right now, Peeta’s here, alive and well, and with me. We make sure the burners are off and then I lead him to the bedroom. I don’t ever want to let go. If I could freeze this moment, I would, but I also want to see about all the others he has left simply because fate threw us together. We’ll get to the deep stuff. For now, I’ll settle for him deep inside me.

#everlarkficexchange #springtime edition 2020 #prompt 17 #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the marrow of the story

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beclynn-herondale · 4 years

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What annoys me is that the people hating on Jace aren’t thinking about the society he grew up in. The shadowhunter society is so corrupt it’s crazy and they definitely don’t make an effort to make sure their youth knows what they’re doing is right and what they’re doing is wrong. Young shadowhunters have to depend on the people they meet and their life experiences to stay “woke” but Jace literally grew up alone in the institute with three other siblings and no friends. (1/2)

Hi anon, so first

(The Tea is piping Hot, and thank you for bringing this up )

I honestly agree with you, and this is actually something I have thought on a lot and yes it was written so many years ago that yeah of course some things we aren't going to agree with cause it's 2020 and things are different now. And the traits Cassie wrote in Jace were popular back then and Cliches were too and we need to keep this in mind.

And yes the Shadowhunters are terrible with educating their own, most shadowhunters have not been educated in mundane history and terms and other Mundane things, Diana herself said she didn't know the term Transgender until she met Catarina I think right?

And Jace was not educated in what was right to support Alec and that is not his Fault cause the Clave don't allow Mundane education so how exactly would Jace know 100% what was homophobic and not or what fetishization is??? Cause he wasn't educated in mundane terms and something you need to look at is that that truly is on Cassie she should have known that that would be offensive and never had him say some of these things, but also that was years ago.

Also erasing his character development to hate him is wrong and unfair, how about instead we appreciate how he has grown, like how much he loves kids and his family, how he was nervous to meet Kit cause he wanted to make a good impression, how he wants to be a dad, how he wants a big family cause of how close the Blackthorns are and cause he wants his kids to be like them. Or how he loves with his whole heart, also lets not forget that if not for Simon, Clary and Jace, Jem wouldn't have been cured and would still be a silent brother and our precious baby Min Min wouldn't exist and how after the whole Heavenly Fire incident Jace was worried he hurt Jem and went to check on him before anyone, someone he didn't know really.

And how he said to Clary until she came along he didn't feel like he belonged anywhere, and boy do I relate to that, and yes he had the Lightwoods but he didn't truly know how much they loved him until Clary came along, cause Jace was afraid to open up until she came along. And he was told at Six years old that if he loved he would destroy and would be destroyed, he was manipulated, he was abused, he was tortured, he was neglected, he was used and he was used by others not just Valentine, Luke Garroway said himself that he wasn't surprised Jace didn't trust the Adults around him cause they have used him, and so he put walls up cause being used is one of the worst feelings and he had been before he was even born.

And he was lied to about himself pretty much his whole life and during TMI he had been lied to his entire life. He literally went through an identity crisis several times, also he never thought he would have a best friend/Parabatai aka Alec, he never thought he would have a family aka Isabelle and Maryse and Max, and he never thought he deserved or would find love aka Clary Fucking Fairchild, and then later on he got more family aka Blueberry and Rafe and Magnus and Simon as a good friend. He never thought he would be happy, he thought he would be an angry and broken boy all his life. And why do you think Clary and Alec are so protective of Jace cause they know who he really is and know he is fragile and can get hurt easily, that's why Clart is described as his Shield and why it is mentioned several times that she saved him, also he was suicidal when we first met him, even Alec said he was always rushing towards death and reckless decisions and that he is thankful that Clary came along cause she made Jace want to live and now he doesn't have to worry about Jace wanting to get himself killed, and he has mental issues ( yes I am mentioning this again). Also you say he didn't apologize but we truly cannot be 100% sure of that cause for all we know he did and it wasn't in the book and again that's on Cassie cause she didn't give us a proper scene. And you say he doesn't give a shit about Alec, well how about that scene in TDA when Magnus is dying and Alec is saying he wishes he told Magnus how much he loved him and Jace tells Alec he knows and then Alec says he should go on a watch so he doesn't let anyone down and Jace thinks to himself how could Alec let anyone down and tells Alec his watch is taking care of Magnus and I quote "this is your watch brother". Or the scene in Heavenly fire when Jace tells Alec that Alec is a better person then he could ever be, that he has the most faith in people and that he is kind and that there is no one else with more of that then Alec, or again in TDA when he was the one who sat up as soon as the words were off the consuls mouth and Said Alec for the new Consul cause he knew how much Alec wanted it. How about in Tales of the Shadowhunter Academy when Simon is feeling like his Falling is Bad and he tells Simon he did good. Also how about how he went to talk to Tessa and yes Simon encouraged him but Jace had the willpower to do it, past Jace wouldn't have. And how about in City of Ashes when Maia who hated Jace, saw through his mask and saw herself in his eyes.

And he had to fight two wars at the age of 16/17 he wasn't even an adult, and had to help save the Shadow world and had to help clean up mistakes of parents and then finds out that also Valentine killed both his parents, and so not only did Valentine steal his childhood but also stole his chance at having a Mother who would have loved him more than anything cause she never had that but also a father who was going to change for him and most likely would have loved him deeply. Like I can't imagine the grief even though yes he did/does have a family but imagine still. He lost so much before he was born and afterwards, and how about the people who are always telling him he is Valentine's son so he may be like him and his Mother was said to have killed herself ( she didn't Valentine killed her as well btw ) and people probably have said he is Crazy like her and will do the same, guess what the Clave is Toxic and that's why Alec is going to change it cause it needs to be. And I know what it's like to be said to be a crazy bitch cause of your mental illnesses and cause of other things, to have things consistently whispered behind your back.

And this is getting long but bottom line is Jace is so much more then an ass and sarcastic, he has giving me the strength to get through my current life situation and gave me the strength to save myself recently, and has encouraged me to be a better version of myself, he has taught me that love is strength and will heal and change me if I let the right love in, he is there for me at 2 am when I am contemplating giving up and throwing it all away, he is there telling me look how far you have come, don't give up. He is there telling me your scars show how strong you are and all that you have survived and you should be proud of them, he has taught me that my abuse doesn't define me and that the manipulative adults in my life won't always have control over me. He kept me from trying to kill myself again, he gave me the strength to say that something that has happened recently is not my fault, he gave me the strength to own my confidence and my gentleness and fragilety cause that's me.

And I mostly ignore the hate or at least try to but it keeps getting thrown at me and other Jace Stans and it's time to stop.

SO IF YOU ARE GOING TO POST HATE DON'T TAG IT.

Cause tumblrs tagging system sucks and guess what us Jace Stans and Clary Stans and Clace Stans have just as much a right to enjoy ourselves and be here, as much as you haters do, and you not liking him or hating him isn't going to change my mind or make me stop loving him and also WHY ARE YOU USING THE SHORT TIME YOU HAVE FOR HATE, WHY NOT USE IT TO SPREAD LOVE FOR YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS INSTEAD????

How is it fair for us Jace/Clary/Clace stans to deal with your hate be told it's just an opinion, well guess what it's not just an opinion, when it's messing with my mental health. So please just stop and yes he's fictional so 1. Why does it matter so much. 2. Why do you care so much? 3. Why do you care so much about us liking him then? 4. Is hurting people in real life really worth it? 5. Is spreading so much hate in this world really what you want to be known for? 6. JACE is not the only problematic character for Angel's sake, there are many many others so that Is no reason to hate him.

Conclusion please stop, we just want to enjoy ourselves, hell we don't even have to interact ever and just stay in our own lanes, also TSC fandom has become the most toxic fandom I am in and that's saying something cause I have been in toxic fandoms, is this what we want to be known as? A toxic fandom who you should avoid? Cause let me tell you I don't, so why don't we just respect each other and stop being hateful. I have kept quiet about this for months and I am tired of holding it in, you say you respect opinions but if you say that If we stan Jace/Clary/Clace then we don't have rights even if it's joke, guess what it isn't a joke to me and I don't laugh at it, and if we really want to criticize and have equality then we need to judge all of them and Jace isn't the only one who as you say has made homophobic and fetishization comments and he isn't the only one who has done problematic things.

Bottom line I want to enjoy myself and lately the only thing I have had is hate and hurt and getting upset cause I like a character who is actually a good example on growing as a person because of a few scenes how is that fair, basically you are saying you made some mistakes and don't deserve to have your growth acknowledged and you don't deserve second chance cause well you're evil, guess who has been told that many times in her life, me, so it's very triggering for me, the words I hate Jace are triggering for me and I don't say this lightly at all. And don't tell me I haven't thought this through or haven't looked at the bad parts and the cons cause I have but I also look at the good parts and the pros so that is why I love Jace, cause I love his good and bad parts and I acknowledge his growth and change. So to put it simply he is not who he was in TMI, just like Alec is not who he was in TMI.

I am working on a post to clear more of this up but all I am asking is for you to not hate especially in a time that is already stressful and hard for me and everyone else, you aren't doing good and it doesn't make you cool. SORRY but it's the truth, you are hurting people, Imagine if it was your favorite character(s) and how would you feel??? So just stop.

( this is my view on things and my opinion and if you have no intention of being civil then don't interact, I am not interested in a fight with you. Or throwing hateful comments at each but know that I will also not take your hate and will defend myself)

So yeah Anon I agree with you and let's spread positivity cause I would rather this end here and spread love and positivity.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

#jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #jace lightwood #jace has too many last names #clace #tsc #the shadowhuter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments #clary fray #clary fairchild #my opinion #tw hate #tw mental health #tw mentions of suicide #tw mental disorders #tsc fandom #fandom #tw fandom

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ravenramblings · 4 years

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why we should cancel cancelling

Oh ho ho, what a light topic to discuss on this beautiful day, right? Well, it isn't. I had a lot of doubts about even writing this, and I am mortified by the idea of posting it. But this is a really important topic to me, and I think we should open a discussion about it. Well, what is cancel culture? Call-out culture (also known as outrage culture) is a form of public shaming that aims to hold individuals and groups accountable for their actions by calling attention to behavior that is perceived to be problematic, usually on social media. - wikipedia We sort of saw it become more prominent with the #MeToo movement, where people who had done pretty disgusting things were brought to light. But from then, it spiraled into being an all-losers game, where people blow up so-called "problematic" behaviour and shun the accused from all social media platforms and public life, in general, with no regard to proportions and facts. Why is that happening? People who might have never gotten the chance to speak, usually minorities, now have a platform to make their voices heard and form communities. Which is great! It's one of the many benefits of the Internet. But, knowing the injustices happening out in the real world, these people might be quick to jump on others who attacked their community or said something ignorant about it. The dynamic of power has changed, at least in the online world. We finally get to have our revenge on those groups of people who have hurt us time and time again. Which is great, right? Well, not really. The shame in public shaming Let's put ourselves in the shoes of the accused. You posted something, not really thinking twice about it, and now your "cancellation" is being celebrated. "I kept telling you guys, but you wouldn't listen. This person is a bigoted piece of shit.", one of the people says, adding a collage of all the problematic things you did. Why did no one tell you about it? These things seemed trivial. What did you do wrong? The angry mob is closing in on you, threatening your family or friends, making anyone ever associated with you release statements cutting all ties they have ever had with you, personally or profesionally. You feel, well, alone. Really, really alone. You made a mistake, which no one bothered to explain to you, and now you're faced with the end of your career. But worst of all, you are faced with being terribly, terribly ashamed. I've recently read Brené Brown's book, "The courage to be vulnerable" (which should definitely be on your tbr pile), and one aspect that really stood out to me was the connection between shame and anger or emotional distance. A really important distinction she makes, which i think is essential to any discussion about cancelling, is between the terms "shame" and "guilt". In her terms, the difference is: Guilt: "I did a bad thing" Shame: "I am a bad person" Guilt allows the possibility for growth and learning, while shame makes us want to go to a corner and hide from the rest of the world, knowing deep down that we aren't worthy of love or human connection. Ding ding! Your worst fears of being unworthy have just been confirmed, because you are obviously a horrible person that doesn't deserve the chance to speak. This isolation aspect is perhaps the worst thing. You don't get the chance to learn about what you did wrong and now you've been kicked out of maybe the only community that supported you. That's right. I'm not talking about the big social media influencers, although they are certainly affected by this too, through the simple fact that they are humans. I'm talking about the trans kid with a moderate audience that said something wrong one day and went from being loved and accepted for who they really are, to being called all sorts of horrible names and being considered an Enemy. All they feel is a stomach-turning sensation of shame at having lost the only support system they had. In the good scenarios, they find great strength and get through it, eventually coming back. In the bad scenarios, well, we don't like to talk about that, do we? Anonimity Ah, the world's wild west. A place where you can fulfill all of your dreams under an impersonal username and profile pictures. But we forget that under the cover of those other anonymous profiles hide other humans, with fears and hopes. Bla bla bla, the internet turns us into monsters, bla, bla, bla. Ok boomer, we've heard it all before. Well, let me tell you what depersonalisation does. It reduces a person to a set of posts. It makes those posts much, much easier to criticize, that stone much, much easier to pick up. Because on the Internet, you have never posted anything that could hurt anyone. Not anything that isn't deleted, at any rate. On the Internet you have that sweet, sweet moral high ground, and damn it all if you're not going to use it. And what is your one post going to do, anyway? The power of a crowd Nothing. Unless you're a celebrity, but let's suppose you're not. Your one post is absolutely insignificant. And so are the other thousands of posts, individually. What that means is you can sleep quite peacefully at night, knowing it "isn't really your fault". It removes responsability. You don't have to step in the ring and punch the other person, because thousands of pokes will have the same effect. The "crowd" is the big machine, and of course I am a part of it, but without me it would do just fine! Burying a community alive, leader by leader "Surely", you'd say, "you're not accusing me of wanting to hurt my own cause, are you?". Well, no. I know you don't want to. But I also know you are. When someone is the leader of a community or is seen as a speaker for it, there are tons of opportunities to be wrong. There are tons of opportunities to ignore some part of the community and spread misinformation unintentionally. But cancelling that person, who has the community's best interests at heart and has consistently been a great activist for its rights and recognition, is not a solution. Or, at any rate, not the solution we should be turning to. This will only hurt your cause. What can we do? "Well, now i feel guilty about all the times i jumped on the cancelling bandwagon" (believe me, i do too). That's good! Feeling guilt is the first step to changing your way of interacting with others on the Internet. And i have just the tips for you 1. Stop cancelling people. Stop using the term or any bloody term associated with it. People aren't just opinions, and you can cause serious harm by attacking a person for who they are, and not for what they said or did. Remember, you are trying to cause opportunities for growth and learning, not for isolation. 2. Leave the person room to breathe. Do not expect an apology in 0.2 seconds. Spoiler alert, nobody educates themselves about systemic racism, the treatment of LGBT persons or any other thing you are talking about in those 0.2 seconds. Fast apologies aren't the same as sincere apologies, and a delayed response is a good thing, actually. 3. Educate! Educate! Educate! Don't only shove statistics in their face, but expose them to the real-world hurt their actions may cause, or share your stories on how that particular issue affected you or another member of the community. If you know that person in real life, that's even better. You'll know what things might get through to them. Be empathetic, and try to understand their background. 4. You are allowed to be hurt and angry! You're probably experiencing shame and betrayal. You trusted this person and even thought they were great, but it turns out they did something really bad. Let yourself breathe as well. Work through those feelings. Why are you angry? Is this anger going to help you? (no, i'm afraid) Acknowledging your vulnerability is really important. 5. Assess whether you can or can't help this person. Protecting yourself is extremely important. If you feel like you don't have the patience or the emotional resources to do it, that's perfectly fine. You don't have to be the educator, but cancelling makes others who could be back away, for fear of being cancelled themselves. Let them speak. 6. Treat others with kindness. They're human beings too. And who knows, you might be the person that deradicalizes them. You might not, though. And that's ok. You were respecful and followed your moral principles. You did good. I'm proud of you. resources: did you think i'd have a whole bibliography? nah, not really. you can access brené brown's ted talks here and here. i'd also encourage you to read her book, "the courage to be vulnerable". it can be life-changing. this post was inspired by natalie wynn's video, which you can find here. she's pretty damn awesome.

#cancel culture #cancelling #cancel #sjw #social justice #equality #activism #political activism #human rights #social media

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kelseyapperson · 4 years

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I shouldn’t have to feel bad for being white...

I used to feel this way. I even found some problematic writing from myself, around 7-8 years ago, and I want to talk about it. I think it's important that we normalize changing our minds and growth. It's never too late to admit you were wrong, and I think it's important that I show that and hold myself accountable as I do others.

So, even though it's uncomfortable and not a good look, I'm going to share what I wrote then, and then explain why I now know that line of thinking is wrong and hurtful to Black people.

Here's the writing: "i am tired, deep in my bones. it isn't the kind of tired that sleep can alleviate. it is the exhaustion of generations, carried on my shoulders, passed from my ancestors. it intertwines with a verdict of guilt, responsibility for sins i myself did not commit. it is the burden of my skin color, the plight of my race, and i am expected to feel bad for being white. i'm tired of the shame, i'm tired of the inequalities, i'm tired of our focus on something that doesn't exist. my bones are weary and white, and my children will inherit the color, the burden. they will be born owing others for a past they had no control over. how is this anymore just than those born into slavery so long ago?" Big oof. I have so many thoughts reading this and sharing it with you. I am ashamed at my ignorance. These words were written through the lens of white privilege and as an expression of my white fragility. I do remember feeling these things, I remember feeling defensive for things I didn't even do, I remember feeling like it was unfair that I was being blamed for something in the past. I know many of my white friends may feel this way. But I was wrong. Let's talk about why. ***Disclaimer: I am not here to speak for Black people, but I will echo feelings that I've heard to break down my own racist rhetoric.***

"i am tired, / deep in my bones / it isn't the kind of tired / that sleep can alleviate" What do I have to be tired about when it comes to race? Being given a warning for speeding, as opposed to a ticket, an arrest, or a bullet wound? Black people are tired. They are tired of being treated worse by the color of their skin. They are tired of doing emotional labor to make us not feel guilty about slavery so that we see them as humans. They are tired of living in a white-first world.

"it is the exhaustion of / generations, carried on my / shoulders, passed from my / ancestors."

I'm most ashamed by this idea of generational trauma as a white person, because this is SO REAL FOR BLACK PEOPLE. There is research to back this up. The way Black people have to interact with our society has been passed down from one generation to the next, the trauma and pain and lessons shared. Many Black people speak of their experience with "the talk." The one where their parents tell them, usually at a young age, that they need to handle white people carefully or they may overreact and bring them harm. Imagine being told that a police officer, whose job is to keep people safe, may unjustly arrest you, brutalize you, or murder you - not for doing anything illegal, but for not showing perfect obedience in the power dynamic. AND EVEN IF YOU DO EVERYTHING RIGHT IT MAY STILL GO BAD.

"it intertwines with a verdict / of guilt, responsibility for sins / i myself did not commit. / it is the burden of my skin color, / the plight of my race, / and i am expected to feel bad / for being white."

Me to past me: "BITCH PLEASE." Okay, okay, let's unpack it. I am not guilty of enslaving people nor am I expected to feel guilt for my skin color. Most Black people don't even feel that way or want us to feel this way. However. I have benefited from a social system that has racism built into it. I have been empowered by a system where Black people are disproportionately ensl--arrested, jailed, etc. I benefit from Black people who have numerous disadvantages because of the obstacles put in place by racism, such as poor education from the start, having to work minimum wage jobs, all contributing to them being in poverty while I am able to live my life and benefit from their labor as fast-food workers, retail workers, maids, taxi drivers...so on and so forth. I'm not rich, I didn't grow up rich, I've struggled myself - and STILL I HAVE BENEFITED without even realizing it was happening. Privilege does not mean you have a good life, it means that your skin color (gender, orientation, etc) does not make it worse.

"i'm tired of the shame, / i'm tired of the inequalities, / i'm tired of our focus on / something that doesn't exist. / my bones are weary and white, / and my children will inherit / the color, the burden." Again, this touches on generational trauma, which I discussed above. More importantly, tough, it touches on my privilege as a white person to not see the racial inequities built into the framework of our society. If I'm truly tired of my white guilt, of inequalities, then I need to join the fight for racial equality. Point blank, period, the same goes for you.

"they will be born owing others / for a past they had no control / over. / how is this anymore / just than those born into / slavery so long ago?" Mmm, girl. You did not just compare feeling uncomfortable to slavery. Ugh. So again, we have generational trauma. And, let's be clear. It's not fair that we have to undo the work of our ancestors. It's not. But, it's less fair that those who aren't white are still being penalized because of their skin color. So we're either with them, or we're against them. No, it's not going to be easy. And as people with privilege, we liked to take a step back when things are hard because it doesn't affect us. It's pretty normal and human. But if we really care about Black people and other people of color, we need to step up. We need to roll up our sleeves and do the hard work. I know so many of my friends are damn hard workers. I know that you care about people and you want them to be treated equal. That's why we have to make it happen. Our voices are important, because right now in society they matter more. And that's why it's our responsibility to use them to amplify those who can't be heard as loud. Right now, that's Black people. So, yes, I was super problematic. Some of you probably were too. Maybe you still are. And no, it's not really your fault. We (white people) were all duped into believing that this was an equal society, when it never has been. We need to help affect change so that the generational trauma does not continue. WE NEED TO BE THE CHANGE. So, now, how would I write this poem today? "i hear their weary cries deep in my bones. it isn't the kind of tired that sleep can alleviate. it is the exhaustion of generations, carried on their shoulders, passed from their ancestors. it intertwines with a verdict of guilt, one predetermined before they are even born. it is the burden of their skin color, the plight of their race, and i am empowered to help them because i am white. i'll take some of it, the burden - release the weight from their shoulders. i'm tired of the inequalities and i will fight until they no longer exist. my power is in my skin color, and my children will inherit that too. i will teach them to yield it, giving to others to undo a past that none of us deserve. we cannot undo what was done, but we can do better. it is our duty to do better."

If you read this all, thanks. I hope it helped.

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newproletarians · 3 years

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new proletarians

Alright, so I’m feeling a few things. I’m angry and confused at the world and my place in it, and I don’t want to lose sight of my heart. The reason that’s even on the table is that I feel—in a very real, day-to-day sense—the urge to just let it callous over with grey boogers, or whatever callouses over the hearts of Squidwards everywhere. Regular old life can do that to a devastating degree, but so can the usual suspects—things like real trauma and tragedy. I’d like to say I’ve experienced a little of both at this point in my young life, but I’m still fighting the calcification of my heart. Let’s hope that in just throwing my brain at the proverbial wall, some things stick that are worth sticking. Maybe my clarity can also be yours, reader. Maybe we can snuggle up with ourselves tonight, content that we know what the fuck is going on in the world, and smugly abstain from that which our friends could never imagine abstaining from, and which we’ve known we’ve needed to abstain from for decades. Whatever. It’s wordy. It’s a fucking blog, future me. They’re supposed to contain words. Also, maybe, if I’m writing a blog where the over 50% of the audience is myself, writing it is supposed to feel at least a little similar to masturbating.

Where to begin? Well, let’s start with this: I am a college-educated youth who attended what’s commonly referred to as the best public university in the world. I received a rolled up piece of paper symbolizing a degree on a stage with other students and professors a year and a half ago. So it’s recent. And right off the bat, in my young adulthood, I have a chip on my shoulder, having that big qualifier of “public.” I went to the world’s fanciest college... for the proletariat. What does that mean? For me, this brings to mind a lot of issues having to do with the distribution of wealth in the United States, in addition to what the hell is going on economically here and in the world—but that’s something to get into later. The more pressing issue is what the hell the role of a college-educated young person is today. DFW pretty succinctly laid out an idea of what that could be in his famous address. His point was basically that college (specifically, a liberal arts education) gives you the critical thinking skills necessary to be able to get through life under capitalism (or whatever you want to call the current regime) without going crazy. I think we can do better than that. Also, fuck it, I’m giving myself permission to be temporarily pissed off, because fuck that, dude. I know that rage isn’t always an indicator of fruitful conversation, but I gotta let some steam out somewhere. I’m sure that it’ll only lead to me being better down the line. God—I am pissed. About how we’re deciding to go about talking through issues we’re having as a society (on Twitter, but also in comments sections and in NY Times articles). I have so much anger, I’m just now realizing, and I need to process it without stupidly burning myself out on it. It’s a subject for later, and not what we’re talking about right now. Right now, we’re talking about the role of the college-educated youth today. I think we’re getting somewhere, too. I don’t think the role of the college-educated youth in today’s scenario is to correct their friends and families, nor is it to Tweet about how embarrassing, vulgar, or otherwise horrible stupid people are—however embarrassing, vulgar, or otherwise horrible they may be. The role, to me, has to do with learning this stuff. Learning about systems of power, systems of abuse (many of which hum merrily along in universities—looking at you, Searl. [My anger, you guide me, but you also lead me astray]).Staying ON POINT. The way it has to do with these things is that today’s C.E.Y. needs to notice them, understand them, then DO something about them. There are, for instance, things that we learn about privilege and prejudice in university that we may be tempted to hurl at our elders back home as insults. Our jobs, as young students, are to be sexy, fashionable, charismatic stewards of the new age. Instead of yelling at our parents about being racist, we should, say, intervene in a subtle way that guides rather than punishes. That preserves trust and connection in relationships while simultaneously doing our best to right centuries-old wrongs. But this is about so much more than that. Our role is about how we conduct ourselves as the nations intelligentsia. But that’s a question. I’m not answering it here, try as I might. I still don’t know how I feel about it. It stretches into all corners of life, this role. For instance, into several things in my life I’m mad about.

For instance, I kind of hate my closest loved ones. Oops. That’s where I’m at. Am I supposed to ignore these feelings? They’re there, they’ve been there, and if I know anything about our brains, it’s that feelings shouldn’t be ignored. That’s what dumb ass patriarchs think. The funniest/saddest part of that is that they, said dumb asses, tell themselves that suppressing their feelings is the manly thing to do. It’s honestly just the cowardly thing to do. Men are so afraid of confronting their feelings that they would rather go their entire life wearing a life three sizes too small than mention a thing about it. Anyway. They’re conditioned to feel this way by their surroundings. This—this is a great point that I would love to be a major takeaway here. The thing about being educated is that you’re aware of systems, that systems need to be changed. Fault the people who can change the systems, if anyone, but really, even they are just products of the system. The good thing is that, as a powerless mass of atomized society, we have been created by these systems knowing SOME things that are wrong with it. Now we, the crumbs of dust living in and created by the gargantuan grandfather clock of life, have the sentience necessary to band together and make switch out some gears. Picture a big hand of made of dust, fixing the clock. That’s us. That’s what the role of college educated students is today. But that’s not so much the point of this paragraph, so much is the fact that I kind of hate my closest loved ones—which feels so good to say. My best friends, for instance, are really rough individuals. One is an obvious, obnoxiously insecure, compulsive liar. He’s not super tall and weighs almost 300 pounds. It’s not nice to say this stuff, but the purpose of life isn’t to be nice about everybody all the time in your own head, or on your own anonymous blog. He alienates everyone I bring him around with his bizarre persona. His insecurity is so deep that I shit you not, almost a majority of the interactions I’ve had with him would very reasonably get a “come on,” response from anyone. He has to create little talking points to make his life feel acceptable. He’s one of those people who constantly refers conversations back to their insecurities, and how they feel so secure about them, for this reason and that reason. It’s like, Christ, man. Come on. I feel a lot more ways about this, but I’m a little scared he’ll see this some day. I’m worried he’s going to die young, because he is extremely overweight. His doctor said he’s a few months away from a heart attack/stroke unless he takes immediate action, which it seemed like he was taking initially, but it doesn’t really seem like it anymore. I don’t know. The whole situation feels extremely choked by our inability to just communicate with our fucking words. And yes, I am sounding angry, I’m not actually this angry, but consider these the bubbles from a can of soda that’s been shaken. What will be left is the only-slightly-bubbled soda. That’ll come soon. For now, there are bubbles. New paragraph.

The point that I was trying and failing to get to in the previous paragraph is that I don’t like this guy. He has a lot of great qualities, and he’s certainly not a bad person to have in one’s life—as in, he’ll never cheat on his spouse, and he’ll always go the extra mile for his friends in a certain sense. But I don’t. I wish I could just talk to him about this weird, bizarre, fucking deal breaking shit, but I just can’t. Our communication is choked. I don’t think it’s his fault, though. I think it’s to do with overlapping systems of culture that make it difficult. Maybe. Maybe that’s not the point here, and the real point is just that I feel stuck in that situation. Moving on.

(TW: sexual assault)

Another friend is a fucking bona fide sexual assaulter. He practically got #metoo’d, on a personal level. His gf broke up with him because he sexually assaulted the female half of their best-friend-couple. He fingered her while sharing a bed with her and his gf, for some confusing reason. We talked about it and he gave me this wordy, bizarre, incongruent tale of what happened. It involved a LOT of details and qualifiers. When I talked to the dude half of the couple, the guy who was (and still is) with the woman who got assaulted, he said that my friend just straight up did a ton of nonconsensual shit. He also said that when his gf told other people, more people came forward saying this guy had been creepy to other women in their friend circle. This friend absolutely has a history of gaslighting and successfully avoiding trouble by forcing his way. I need to talk to him, but again, fucking choked. I have no ability to have any kind of “real talk” with him. We do not have a venue, and the prospect of confrontation is absolutely debilitating to the average WASP-y dude. Which brings us to our next situation.

I have a great friend I met in undergrad. She is very well-liked, and while I definitely don’t agree with everything she thinks, I really value her friendship. Her boyfriend is a fucking nightmare. Not really, honestly. There are actual nightmare boyfriends. This boyfriend is more of a waking nightmare. The kind of nightmare that becomes worse because it’s so hard to call out. It just keeps going. I’ve kept CLOSE track, and every SINGLE time I’ve hung out with them as a couple, this guy crosses the line. He says condescending, mean, weird, bizarre, shit that... there’s just no better way to say it than he crosses a line that normal people don’t cross. I haven’t counted, but we’ve probably hung out close to 30 times. Every time it happens, every time I give him another chance. I got a little counseling about this situation from a friend’s mom, just in casual conversation, and her advice was to figure out what in me upset me about this guy. At that point, I realized that what Eric Andre said is true: advice is stupid. Also, that I am not going to run my life based on what this person, who I previously looked up to in a god-like way when it came to relationships, says. I am going to figure it out on my own, because it seems like everybody’s solution to relationship issues is to never talk about them, or to have some kind of inner-peace solution that makes getting abused not suck so bad (looking at you, DFW). Ugh. Okay. Moving on, again. Because yep, there’s so, so much more. Again, asking questions here, not answering them.

Also, if you’re reading this and thinking “damn, bro, your life is boring,” that’s my point. This is just normal life. These are just normal people. This is the water we’re swimming in. It’s fucking tense, man. Living in the United States is tense.

I’m running out of steam at this point, but God damn it. My brothers are dick holes. And we’re great friends. They are guys who don’t ever cause a fuss, avoid confrontation at all costs, and are nothing but rewarded for it. Sometimes I think I have something to learn from them in that regard. But is that really the life we want to live? Just don’t communicate your issues? It’s just frustrating. They act superior to others, but are categorically unable to have an honest, undiplomatic conversation. They act superior to others, and are treated as superior. It feels a little like talking to robots, talking to them, decoding what they’re saying to ascertain how they may actually be feeling in a given moment. I have no idea how they feel about me. Or anything. I don’t even think they know or care. I think they just get by, and they’re rewarded for it.

Alright, moving right along. My dad. Damn do I want to not talk to that guy. I can’t talk about anything real with him. It’s like playing ping pong where the other person can only hit the ball if it goes where his paddle already is, and his paddle’s made out of glass.

This is a sample of some real life issues I am dealing with, spoken as honestly as possible, as is evidenced by the rampant spelling and grammatical errors. College works into this as the thing that has given me recourse for dealing with this stuff. As a college educated youth, I can approach life in an informed, good way. This is life. Etc.

What am I walking away with? Well, I now know for sure that I have a lot of shit to work through. MAYBE more than one Tumblr post. Also, I guess I am proving that people still Tumbl in 2021. I am starting to really understand what the questions I have are. I think part of my issue stems from some feeling of being “out of the loop,” or having some natural, in-set outrage about not understand what’s going on, which was founded by years of being the same height as the people around me’s knees, being the youngest person in my family. Everyone around me were skyscraper people with adult conversations happening way up there. It’s a little imposter syndrome, I think, too. It comes from being the youngest, I think, too. Mixed with a natural sensitivity that I’ve noticed people like me have.

My goal is to get better at living my life. That involves understanding how I want to live, it involves understanding what my values really are, thinking through them a little, and more. I think it’s really worth it. In the meantime, I am not a work in progress. I am a fucking careful, cool, bright, talented guy who is not perfect, but is working on it. And I am going to postpone making any big decisions about my personal life until I get some clarity.

I thought I’d get more to the subject of the new proletarians, which is something I was thinking about today when listening to Harmontown and asking myself questions about what college is for if it just makes us unemployable, debt-ridden, twitter douchers. Anyway. We’ll get to it again sometime.

This was nice. Let’s do this again sometime.

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hilllsnholland · 5 years

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Bucket List - Prequel

Wc: 3.8k

Warnings: swearing, drinking, depression, anxiety, and other mental health talk

Summary: Tom has no idea what he wants to do with his life. He’s stuck in the suburban town of Creekview with Harrison and two idiots friends. No passion, no drive, nothing but a beer by the poolside. Until he meets Y/N, the Deaf rebel who has a bucket list she needs to complete by the end of the summer. The two come together to make their last summer of freedom the best Creekview has ever seen. What could possibly go wrong? Or more so, what could possibly go right?

Dashboard Confessional’s ‘Hands Down’ played through a wireless speaker while Tom took another sip of beer. Although American beer did not have the same kick as England’s, it would have to do. Nothing was the same here, which was the main reason why Tom was drinking four days out of the week. Since the semester ended a week ago it was a blur of sun, drinking, and constant calls from his parents.

Tom tilted back in the lounge chair, sunglasses sitting perfectly on his face. From the distance, he could hear someone calling his name but choose to ignore it. Tom amplified the sound and sighed. Watching the pool water ripple was becoming mind numbing. But that was the point of doing all of this. Acting like he was a bum on vacation was a facade to mask the over presenting battle in his head. Tom could not stop the pestering thoughts and anxiety from creeping up on him, so he pushed it down with alcohol.

Tom sat lazily in the stiff counselor chair. He had been waiting there for almost twenty minutes now, unsure of what the reasoning was. This was college, not regular high school. Why was he being sent to the office? Maybe they did things differently in America but this felt strange. Every few minutes he would look over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming his way. Tom wasn’t a nervous person, but he felt like he was under arrest. Something was definitely not right.

“Mr. Holland?”

Tom snapped straight up and turned to see the Head of Counseling, Mrs. Scott, reaching her hand out to greet him. He shook her hand, standing up awkwardly and following her as she took a seat at her desk.

“Am I in some sort of trouble?”

Mrs. Scott, who usually wears a bright smile, is flat lipped as she types away on her computer. Tom had met her at orientation with Harrison. She was a middle-aged woman who was wise and a school favorite at Creekview State. Not that Tom had to think about it, it was all Harrison’s fault he was even here. Why would he leave beautiful London for this small Bay Area suburb? His best mate of course.

Somehow Harrison had gotten hooked on the idea of moving to California. Not even LA, but San Francisco area. Tom never understood it. It was a different world out here. The weather was bipolar, people had weird phrases, and the school system made no sense. Yet, Harrison begged him to go to California with him. Showed him the transfer program at Creekview State, and now here they were. Well, here Tom is, sitting in front of a very concerned counselor.

“Thomas-”

“Tom, just call me Tom,”

Mrs. Scott nods and turns the computer to face him.

“You have spectacular grades Tom, but you haven’t selected your major?” She points to the screen where major is set to ‘undetermined’. “And I believe you are aware of our policy correct?”

Tom nods slowly. At orientation, they had made it very clear that by the end of a student’s two years at Creekview, a major needed to be set. Administrators claimed that it was a way to ensure students achieve success, but Tom could see through that bullshit. Having students select majors early on ensures that the college can get as much money as possible from donors and the state. Tom though, did not have a major planned out.

“So, school ends in a week Tom and I need to know what your major is.” Mrs. Scott puts on a plastic smile.

“Mrs. Scott, I don’t know what I want to major in,” Tom says flatly. “I don’t see a future in any of the careers paths that the school promotes.”

Harrison had found his calling in theatre. He knew what he wanted since he was a kid. Tom however was lost. He found no satisfaction in business or English, not even theatre sparked that joy. He felt lost. A true imposter syndrome at its best. Tom was grasping at straws of life, watching everyone else know what they wanted. Harry and Sam, his own brothers, knew exactly what they wanted. They were set. Tom was the oldest, yet he was in their shadow.

“I’m sure we can find something-”

“Seriously, I’ve tried every career test and gone to all the job fairs. I don’t know my place. I can not figure out where I belong,”

Red was the only word to describe the interaction. Tom’s face was rouged with frustration and embarrassment, his heart pumping against his chest. His hands shook on his thighs, he had never expressed this concern ever. Now Mrs. Scott was blinking at him, mouth open slightly as she tried to figure out what to say. Tom wanted to run out of the building and never come back. This could be the chance to move back to England, start over with his education and figure it out there.

“I can tell you’re under a lot of stress. You’re in a country you didn’t grow up in and now you’re being forced to grow up. I get it Tom, so I’ll give you a choice.” Mrs. Scott brings out a piece of paper and turns it to Tom. “You can pick a major now or I can give you until the first day of Fall term. If you choose now, you get aid and first pick to all classes. If you wait, you’ll have to pay upfront and have to deal with last pick classes.”

A choice. A real fucking choice that Tom had the opportunity to pick. He didn’t have time to contemplate it until his friends or family butted in. He needed to make the choice now and it was all up to him. A few years into young adulthood and he still felt like a lost child, until now. This could be his chance to take the reigns of his life. To stop following what Harrison says, or his family, because now he was in control of his life. Tom looked down at the paper that listed all the different majors. None of them sparked joy. None of them ignited the fire he had always hoped for.

Tom knew the fire was real though. He saw it every day when Harrison would go to rehearsals or talk about an amazing day in Theatre. Tom felt it resonate off Harry when he would show off the latest photography project. The way Harry would tell stories of each photograph, give it life and meaning. Even Sam, who was going to trade school, had the undeniable ambition to become a carpenter. It was something Tom envied. It gave him that pit in his stomach, the dread you get when you know you’ve done something wrong. Tom felt it every time his parents called him and asked about his future. Now though, he had three whole months to figure out his future. If twenty odd years hadn’t given it to him, how would three months?

“I’ll let you know before the first day of term, but I’m not ready right now,” Tom grabs his things and stands up. “Thank you for this though.”

Tom goes towards the door but stops.

“Tom,” Mrs. Scott sighs. “I don’t expect you to have all of your life figured out right now, but take a chance. Explore or do something you’ve never done. Come back to me when you’re ready. I hope to hear from you soon,”

Mrs. Scott is looking to Tom with big eyes. He can tell she’s been through this before. The exhaustion behind her face from the need to balance the pressure from the school and the well-being of the students. Tom felt the pit appear at the thought of causing her more stress or pain. He could just randomly pick a major, change it later when he figures it out, but her words. Those words snapped the chord in his body.

Since he arrived in Creekview he hadn’t explored much. He would go to parties, class, and work. It was a routine to keep his mind off the homesickness. Tom kept himself busy so he wouldn’t miss home, his mom’s cooking, his bed, god he even missed his little brothers. But, he hadn’t lived more than that. Tom hadn’t let himself loose. Maybe that was the fault, maybe he needed to relax. Tom’s mind became clouded with the different anxieties so he pushed them away, sighing audibly.

“I hope so too Mrs. Scott,”

Tom rolled his neck into the bar of the lawn chair, unkinking the knots from his stiff neck. The music that had been playing from the speakers was now being replaced by the nuisance of his ringtone. He saw the picture of his dad appear on his phone requesting a facetime. This wasn’t the time, he thought.

Last time Tom talked to his father was before the guidance counselor meeting. He hadn’t told his family he wasn’t going home for the summer, like the year prior, so they must be wondering where he was or when he’d be coming back. Tom exhaled, fearing what he wanted to talk about. Tom slid the phone to accept and there his parents were, smiling and talking in unison to greet him.

“Hey guys, I miss you both,” Tom pushed back his glasses and melted at the sight.

It hurt. It hurt so much to not be with them. Although they were a major part in his dilemma, it was impossible to feel normal here. Tom knew his parents would make everything better again. Their cooking would settle his nerves, or his dad’s jokes would make him crack a smile finally.

“Tom, you don’t know how much we miss you right now,” His mom gushes. “When are you coming home, sweetie? Last summer you were already here and making a mess of the place?”

Tom laughed with his parents.

“I know mum,” He bit his lip and shrugged. “I was going to talk to you about that…”

“You know Tom we haven’t heard much from you. Is school going alright? Is Harrison still with you?”

“Yeah, he is. We’re at the house right now. I just,”

The weight crushed him. He wanted advice, he wanted to know what they would have to say about the whole ordeal. He knew it would come with nagging and lecture, which terrified him to no end. Failure was not an option.

“We’ve been calling you for a while now. What’s going on?”

“Guys, everything is fine. I just need to...I need to…” His mouth was dry and something came over him. “I need to invite you guys here.”

God he wished he could have shut himself up. Not answer the phone. Fucks sake, just throw the phone in the water and get it over with faster. His parents made a ‘hmph’ noise and cocked their heads at him.

“I can’t leave California due to...school and work...so why don’t you and the boys fly out here? July or August maybe?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. Why in the world did I do that, he thought. Tom froze at the silence that followed. His parents looked to each other what seemed like a lifetime. This was it, this was the end of the world, wasn’t it?

“Of course we’ll come! We can’t wait to see this little town you’ve been living in!” His mother laughed and smiled. She was giddy.

“I was getting worried Tom,” His dad starts with a small laugh. “I was afraid you were going to tell us you got kicked out or you haven’t picked your major yet. But I can’t wait to see you.”

Yikes was all Tom could think. He laughed along, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling the pool of sweat coming down his skin. Fuck it was hot and he was a horrible liar.

“Love you guys. Talk to you soon,”

Their faces disappear, leaving the lock screen picture of Tessa looking adorable to overtake the phone. Tom flips it over and presses the play button on the speaker to continue the music from before. Fuck, his new favorite word because that was the only thing to describe how he felt. Tom felt stupid, angry, depressed, anxious, probably every emotion under the sun except happiness. This rut was driving him insane, but now he drove himself deeper into it. Tom flipped his sunglasses back down his nose and laid back again.

Was this going to be the rest of his life? Juggling life, unsure of what he wanted or what he needed? Trying to impress and satisfy the ones closest to him? The pit returned bringing with it the feeling of nausea. It must’ve been the beers he had been drinking for the past few hours because he felt sour. Tom clenched his fingers into the bands of the lounge chair, bending them to circulate the anxieties. He picked at things, twisted and broke them, while he was nervous. Either it was his nails, tables, clothes, you name it. It was the only calming factor he had.

“Tommy boy!” An all too familiar voice yelled.

Tom wanted to be dead. He could probably play dead and his so-called ‘friends’ would believe it. He watched as Brant and Ty made their way out to the backyard, holding up bottles of vodka and assorted mixes. Brant was a buff and tall dude, black skin and a face that nobody could say no to. He was known around campus as the star player, of football and hearts. Ty was scrawny, a lacrosse player that actually had talent. He had a long face though, almond eyes that were perpetually bloodshot. He was always high or looking to get high. They were the definition of what Creekview college boys were about.

“Tom, why are you sitting on your ass?” Brant laughed while jumping to take a seat next to him. “Dude, we need to go to Lauren J’s party tonight. With your British accent, we’ll need to be slapping the bitches off of us.”

Tom mentally groaned. He hadn’t been with a girl, not even a date since he got to Creekview. The girls here were not his type he supposed. The ones he had classes with were shallow or too dim-witted. Creekview felt like another dimension honestly. He had never experienced such fakery in his life. Nothing was real, nobody gave a shit about being authentic. It was all Daddy’s money, Mommy’s Lambo, and going to whoever’s lakehouse.

“I think I’ll sit it out. I don’t feel too great,” Tom rolled his head away from the two men looking at him.

“Pussy!” Ty cackled. “Pussy boy is afraid of fun,”

“Ty, shut the fuck up,” Brant elbowed his smaller friend and sighed. “Fuck if I care dude. More hoes for us,”

Brant shrugged it off and walked to the back of the house with Ty following at his tail. God, Ty would do anything to please him. It was pathetic. The only saving grace of the situation is that he didn’t live with them. Tom and Harrison had been renting a house for the year, getting some extra cash from their parents so they didn’t have to live on campus. Although Creekview was safe, the campus was rampant with theft and destruction. It felt like you took middle school children, injected steroids, and let them have the run of a college.

Crisis averted for now, at least. Tom loved parties back home. It was a party to have fun, to get together with your mates and drink. Creekview parties were to show off. Who has the best clothes, best mansion, best alcohol. Tom felt like an alien here. Nothing felt right anymore.

Tom heard the sliding door open again, this time it was Harrison. The blond boy smiled at Tom, shrugging his shoulders as he crossed the backyard. He wore a white shirt with neon splatters on it. There were remnants of neon paint on his face too. Tom quirked an eye at him and slid the glasses off his face.

“What’s with the paint?”

“LJ is having a neon party and she invited us,” Harrison threw a white shirt at Tom. “We should get going if we want to make it there before all the good booze is gone,”

Tom looked at the shirt, splatters of blues, oranges, and yellows scattered it in an abstract pattern. Did Harrison really have time to do this? He met eyes with his best mate, Harrison narrowed worried eyes at him. Harrison knew something was up with his friend, he saw the joy deplete from him every night after class. He saw Tom after the counselors meeting, saw the pain and stress illuminating off of him. The thing about Tom though was that he needed to figure out things for himself. He was constantly needing advice from others while also needing the pride of being self-efficient. Harrison wished to reach inside his best friend’s head and yank out the real Tom again. But, Tom sat there with heavy eyes and sighed.

“I don’t think I’ll go,” Tom rubbed the T-shirt fabric between his fingers.

“Mate, please come. I don’t want to be stuck with Brant or Ty all night,”

“So hang out with Lauren J then,”

The flicker of interest was undeniable. Tom knew Harrison fancied LJ, he could see it miles away. Everytime the sorority girl walked past. Harrison was head over heels in love. Yet, Tom didn’t know if anything had actually happened. He felt the nauseating flirting all the time, he saw the long glances to each other. Harrison however was quiet about it all, maybe out of fear that it would disappear if he spoke of it. This was a concept Tom knew too well.

“Tom, I’m really worried about you. I didn’t think that major thing would-”

“I’m fine Haz,”

Harrison sits to face Tom, hands folded in his lap like he was going to give him a lecture.

“We can talk about it if you want.”

Tom felt the pit deepens. He didn’t want to get Harrison involved, it was a mistake to even tell him. Tom did it so that it wouldn’t be so heavy on his mind but now he infected Harrison with his problems too. The brunet boy sat straight up, throwing off his red shirt and replacing it with the neon one.

“No, you know what let’s go to LJ’s party,” Tom grabbed his sunglasses and stood up as fast as he could.

“Tom, stop avoiding the topic-”

“Haz, you want to go to the party right? Let’s not keep LJ waiting,”

It was the flip in the situation that frustrated Harrison, but he wasn’t going to mention. The reverse psychology trick that Tom always pulled was getting real old, but now was not the time for it. Harrison was just happy that Tom was going to leave the house for once. Tom grabbed his wallet and keys, waiting on the front porch for his friend, nerves building up again. Thank god there will be alcohol at the party or this would be a disaster.

“You know, it’s okay to talk about your feeling,” Harrison comments as they walk towards the Jeep. “I don’t do words,” Tom smirked.

Harrison laughed, it would take a miracle to get him to shut up. Which was why it worried him that Tom had been silent for so long. Tom rolled his back into the leather seat and strummed his fingers against the plastic panel of the car door. Harrison looked to his friend again, exhaling in defeat.

“What’s your fear, Tom? Just tell me that,”

Tom froze his fingers and looked to Harrison. It was a moment of weakness, both having pleading eyes for answers. Harrison needed to know his best friend was alright, while Tom needed to know it was going to be alright.

“I just...don't want to be wrong,” His voice was barely above a whisper.

It was silent. The radio was turned off and the only sound was the car going to the somewhat empty Mainstreet of Creekview. Tom wanted to slap himself for telling the truth. Admitting failure was what was holding him back. It was the agonizing anxiety of having no control and failing to do what’s right. Tom gnawed at his bottom lip, his heart thumping against his chest so loud that he was sure Harrison could hear it. Harrison looked from the street and back to Tom.

“Whatever happens tonight Tom, it’ll be right,” Harrison finally says.

“What do you mean?”

It was the assertiveness that Harrison spoke with that sparked a little hope. He knew how to draw Tom out of his shell in times of darkness, yet nothing had been this serious before. But it was what Tom needed, that stupid faith in him.

“You will do something unequivalently right tonight. That’s final,”

The two looked off towards the sunset, visions of blue, pink, and purple bleeding out into the sky. It was...calm. For the first time since the counselor’s meeting, Tom felt at ease with Harrison, with his lack of decisions. Although it was creeping in the back of his mind, swirling through with random thoughts of terror. Tom felt okay for once and prepared himself mentally for the party.

It would be draining, shitty music and drunk people who can’t handle their alcohol. Yet, Harrison was right. Tom could do something tonight that was right. He wasn’t sure what, or even how, but it settled him for the time being. Tom rested his head on his hand, watching the beautiful colors take the sky. It was a moment of bliss, a moment of freedom that Tom was looking for. He remembered he needed to take chances, go on an adventure like Mrs. Scott had said. Maybe now, maybe this could be his first adventure that leads to many more. Tom just had to leap. He looked over to Harrison and laughed.

“It’s all going to be alright,”

Harrison smiled, nodding along with his words.

“Yes, Tom. Everything will always be alright,”

Tom breathed deeply, taking in the beautiful scene and moment. His eyes dreamily stared off into the sunset to admire the vibrancy. He had never seen anything like it in England. The California sunsets were a different breed. The colors made bubbles of serenity, and Tom smiled. He loved the way the pink shined through, it gave him a weird feeling of knowing. Like he knew something good was going to happen. Tom felt at ease with the color and he didn’t know why. It was odd, but maybe it was the anxiety finally settling so he could enjoy life for a bit.

Pink may be my new favorite color

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@screeching-student-unknown / @nyctophilicstyles / @captainbuckyy / @vintage-moonlight / @breadbudzo / @h-natale / @originalpinkpowerranger/ @happywolves81 / @drunkgreek/ @iamnida95 / @sydthekidsloth / @spiderboytotherescue / @laureharrier / @starksparker / @madon566 / @nophunleague / @itsbrittneynicole / @hereiamhereigo / @kkaup04 / @way-ward-whale / @thewackywriter

#Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine #college!Tom Holland #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Harrison Osterfield imagines #Harrison Osterfield imagine #college!Harrison Osterfield

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carcino-generic · 4 years

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HOW HUMANS ARE HAVING THEIR LIVES RUINED BY KARKAT VANTAS

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ALRIGHT, HERE’S THE BASICS OF CAPITALISM FROM A WORKING CLASS AMERICAN. I WANT TO START OUT BY SAYING I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT EUROPE, CANADA, AUSTRALIA, OR ANY OTHER “FIRST-WORLD” COUNTRIES. I DON’T KNOW WHO TORIES ARE AND I DON’T CARE ABOUT EMMANUEL MACRON. FOREIGN AFFAIRS ARE NOT MY CUP OF TEA THANKS. I HAVE ENOUGH PROBLEMS WITH DOMESTIC POLITICS. ALSO DON’T GET ON MY ASS ABOUT CALLING IT AMERICA INSTEAD OF THE U.S.A., CANADIANS DON’T ACTUALLY WANT TO BE AMERICANS AND IF THEY DO THEY’RE MORONS FOR REASONS THAT WILL BECOME CLEAR AS YOU READ ON.

YOU KNOW HOW IN A NORMAL SOCIETY, TRADE IS DRIVEN BY RESOURCES AND PRICES ARE DETERMINED BY THE AVAILABILITY, COMPLEXITY, AND DIFFICULTY IN PRODUCTION OF A PRODUCT? SO IMAGINE YOUR COUNTRY GETS ENOUGH MONEY, POWER, AND SHEER BLIND DEVOTION FROM ITS CITIZENS TO THROW ALL THAT IN THE GARBAGE, AND THEN IMAGINE THAT EVERYONE CAPABLE OF MAKING MEANINGFUL CHANGES AT A FUNDAMENTAL LEVEL, WHILE REMAINING WITHIN THE CURRENT SYSTEM, IS OWNED BY SOMEONE WHO BENEFITS EGREGIOUSLY FROM EVERYTHING STAYING THE SAME, AND EVEN MORE EGREGIOUSLY FROM THINGS BECOMING WORSE. NOW IMAGINE THAT WHEN I SAID “SOMEONE” I MEANT “ONE OF MAYBE FIFTEEN MEGA-CORPORATIONS THAT OWNS EVERY OTHER BUSINESS IN THE COUNTRY,” AND WHEN I SAY “EVERYONE CAPABLE OF MAKING MEANINGFUL CHANGES...” I MEAN POLITICIANS WE ELECT TO PRETEND TO REPRESENT OUR INTERESTS WHO HAVE IN REALITY BEEN BOUGHT OUT BY CORPORATE INTERESTS AND RISK LOSING THEIR JOBS IF THEY MAKE LAWS THAT THREATEN THOSE CORPORATE INTERESTS’ BOTTOM LINES. BASICALLY, WE INVESTED ALL OUR POWER INTO PRIVATELY OWNED MONEY SINKS AND FORGOT TO CARE ABOUT THE THINGS THAT MATTER, LIKE THE ACTUAL CITIZENS? OKAY THIS IS GETTING AWAY FROM ME, WE MIGHT HAVE TO START FROM THE BASICS.

I DON’T KNOW HOW YOUR SOCIETY WORKS, BUT IN OURS, YOU START OUT AS A LITTLE BABY. AS SOON AS YOU’RE PHYSIOLOGICALLY CAPABLE OF EXISTING FOR CONSECUTIVE HOURS WITHOUT THE PEOPLE WHO RAISED YOU, THEY SHOVE YOU IN A CLASSROOM AND START FEEDING YOU A MIXTURE OF COLONIAL, PSYCHOLOGICAL, PHILOSOPHICAL, AND POLITICAL PROPAGANDA. THAT’S ALSO WHERE THEY TEACH YOU HOW TO SOCIALIZE WITH KIDS YOUR AGE AND SHIT. FOR SOME KIDS IT’S THE *ONLY* PLACE THEY CAN LEARN TO SOCIALIZE, BECAUSE THEIR PARENTS ARE TOO BUSY, ABSENT, OR PROTECTIVE TO BRING YOU OUT TO INTERACT WITH PEERS. EITHER WAY, THIS IS WHERE KIDS FORM THEIR CONCEPTS OF BOTH PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS AND SOCIAL CONTRACTS. THE TRAUMA OF RACIAL AND GENDER PROFILING IS NASCENT HERE, BUT OH BOY IT INTERNALIZES QUICKLY. (MORE ON HOW PEOPLE OF COLOR, THE WAR ON DRUGS, AND PROFIT ARE ALL LINKED LATER ON, OR MAYBE JUST LOOK UP A VIDEO ESSAY ON IT IDK.)

IT’S PRETTY MUCH THIRTEEN YEARS OF THIS SAME SHIT, ESPECIALLY THE PROPAGANDA BIT. KIDS GROW UP BEING INDOCTRINATED WITH THIS COMPLETELY WHITEWASHED VERSION OF REALITY, BELIEVING CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS* IS THE SHIT AND CAPITALISM IS THE ONLY EFFICIENT MODEL FOR MODERN SOCIETY. THEY’RE USUALLY TAUGHT ALL ABOUT WORLD WARS I AND II, THE VIETNAM WAR, THE COLD WAR, AND THE SPACE RACE, WHICH (BY UNEQUIVOCALLY POSING AMERICANS AS THE GOOD GUYS AND THE SOVIETS AND CHINESE AS THE BAD GUYS, CEMENTS THE CONCEPT THAT CAPITALISM INHERENTLY RULES AND COMMUNISM INHERENTLY FAILS) FURTHER INDOCTRINATES KIDS. IF YOU’RE REALLY AN ALIEN I DOUBT YOU’VE SEEN THIS IMAGE, BUT EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN EARTHLING HAS:

THIS GUY IS NAMED UNCLE SAM, HE’S BASICALLY AMERICA’S FURSONA. HE EXISTS TO PRESSURE YOU INTO SIGNING UP TO FIGHT IN A WAR. HE WAS USED A LOT IN THOSE WARS I TALKED ABOUT UP THERE, ESPECIALLY THE FIRST THREE. HE’S NOT AROUND SO MUCH ANY MORE BUT THE GENERAL SENTIMENT IS. HERE’S HOW.

WHEN YOU GRADUATE FROM HIGH SCHOOL, THE LAST “REQUIRED” STAGE OF SCHOOL, YOU ARE EXPECTED TO MOVE OUT AND GET A JOB TO SUPPORT YOURSELF. BUT NOWADAYS, IF YOU WANT A JOB THAT PAYS FOR YOUR HEALTH CARE, LETS YOU STAY HOME WHEN YOU GET SICK, GIVES YOU DAYS OFF TO GO TO FAMILY EVENTS SUCH AS WEDDINGS, FUNERALS, THE BIRTH OF YOUR CHILDREN, AND OTHER UNIMPORTANT DRIVEL THAT DOESN’T MAKE CEOS MONEY, YOU BET YOUR ASS YOU’D BETTER GET A COLLEGE DEGREE. HAVING A DEGREE IS THE NUMBER ONE WAY YOU CAN GUARANTEE THAT YOU MAKE MORE MONEY. THAT ALL SOUNDS FINE AND DANDY, EXCEPT NOW YOU HAVE TO PAY SOME INDUSTRIAL-SCALE LOAN SHARK MORE THAN YOU’LL EVER HAVE IN YOUR 401(K) TO LET YOU GET YOUR HIGHER EDUCATION. A LOT OF PEOPLE END UP OWING UPWARDS OF FIFTY GRAND TO A PRIVATELY OWNED LOAN AGENCY BY THE TIME THEY’RE TWENTY-ONE, BECAUSE AS FRESH ADULTS THEY WERE TOLD THEY WOULDN’T GET A WORTHWHILE JOB UNLESS THEY HAD A DEGREE. BUT HERE’S THE THING: A LOT OF TIMES, JOBS LIKE THAT WON’T EVEN HIRE YOU UNLESS YOU HAVE A MASTER’S DEGREE NOW! THAT’S ANOTHER TWO YEARS OF CLASSES AND ANOTHER HUGE CHUNK OF MONEY YOU NEVER HAD TO BEGIN WITH.

OF COURSE THERE ARE LESS EXPENSIVE OPTIONS, LIKE TRADE SCHOOL AND COMMUNITY COLLEGE. BUT REMEMBER THE PROPAGANDA I MENTIONED? IT’S SO PERVASIVE, A LOT OF YOUNG PEOPLE DON’T EVEN CONSIDER TRADE SCHOOL AN OPTION NOW, BECAUSE WE CULTURALLY VALUE THE “INTELLECTUAL” JOBS—DOCTOR, LAWYER, ENGINEER, ACCOUNTANT, BUSINESSMAN—WHICH ARE STRANGELY ALSO THE CAREER PATHS THAT REQUIRE THE MOST INVESTMENT OF TIME AND MONEY! NOW IF YOU DECIDE TO BE LIKE ME AND GET A JOB RIGHT OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL BECAUSE THE EDUCATION INDUSTRY IS A PUTRID WASTELAND, YOU’RE AUTOMATICALLY LOOKED DOWN UPON. A LOT OF TIMES PEOPLE WHO ARE PURSUING LESS LUCRATIVE CAREERS THAT INTEREST THEM***, INSTEAD OF THE BIG MONEY JOBS, ARE DISPARAGINGLY ASKED IF THEY WANT TO “END UP WORKING AT MCDONALDS.” I DON’T PERSONALLY WORK AT MCDONALDS BUT THIS SHIT STILL OFFENDS ME. BUT THEN AGAIN I’M A MILLENNIAL SNOWFLAKE SO WHAT DO I KNOW.

ACADEMIA HAS A LOT OF ITS OWN PROBLEMS BUT I’VE ONLY HEARD THOSE SECONDHAND, SO LET’S LEAVE THAT HELLSCAPE TO ITS ELITISM AND STAY WITHIN THE BLUE-COLLAR SUBCLASS. COMMON PARLANCE WILL REFER TO THREE MAJOR CLASSES: THE LOWER CLASS (DIPLOMATICALLY CALLED THE “WORKING CLASS”, HA FUCKING HA!), THE MIDDLE CLASS (WHICH THEORETICALLY MAKES UP THE MAJORITY OF THE POPULATION), AND THE UPPER CLASS (FUCK THOSE GUYS BUT WE’LL GET AROUND TO THAT LATER.) THIS MODEL IS PRETTY MUCH JUST DESIGNED TO CREATE TENSION WITHIN THE PROLETARIAT, BUT HANG ON A SECOND, I JUST REMEMBERED YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THE PROLETARIAT IS YET.

SO BASICALLY, THERE’S NOT THAT MUCH DEFINABLE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE “MIDDLE CLASS” AND THE “WORKING CLASS.” WHEN YOU THINK OF WORKING CLASS, COLLOQUIALLY, YOU THINK OF THOSE LOSERS THAT WORK IN THE SERVICE INDUSTRY OR DRIVE TAXIS OR (AND THIS IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE TO SOME PEOPLE) HAVE NO JOB AT ALL. THE MIDDLE CLASS IS MORE LIKE TEACHERS AND MIDDLE MANAGERS AND GUYS THAT BUILD SOFTWARE REMOTELY FOR MICROSOFT. REALLY THOUGH, THERE’S NO WAY TO DRAW A DEFINITIVE LINE BETWEEN THESE PEOPLE. THE BEST WAY TO DEFINE CLASS IN AMERICA, (AND ALSO APPARENTLY GERMANY, AT LEAST IN THE 19TH CENTURY,) IS TO SEPARATE THOSE WHO PRODUCE GOODS AND THOSE WHO OWN THE GOODS THAT ARE PRODUCED. THERE IS NO “MIDDLE CLASS”, THAT’S JUST A MEANINGLESS THING TO STRIVE FOR BASED ON WHAT WHITE FAMILIES IN SITCOMS LOOK AND ACT LIKE.

WORKERS WHO PRODUCE GOODS AND SERVICES ARE THE BACKBONE OF SOCIETY AND THEY’RE CALLED THE PROLETARIAT. THEY ARE SERVICE WORKERS AND JANITORS AND TAXI DRIVERS AND HOTEL VALETS, BUT THEY ARE ALSO ELECTRICIANS AND PLUMBERS AND MECHANICS, AND THEY ARE LAWYERS AND DOCTORS AND PROFESSORS, AND THEY ARE YOUTUBERS AND INFLUENCERS AND SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS. THE PROLETARIAT IS ANYONE WHO MAKES MONEY BY SELLING THEIR LABOR. THEY CAN BE CONTRACTORS SELLING THEIR LABOR TO INDEPENDENT BUYERS, OR FREELANCERS SELLING THEIR LABOR TO MULTIPLE LARGER BUSINESSES, BUT MOST OF THE PROLETARIAT IS DIRECTLY EMPLOYED BY SOME KIND OF COMPANY OWNED BY A MEMBER OF THE BOURGEOISIE.

THE BOURGEOISIE IS KIND OF A MEME AT THIS POINT BUT THEIR IMPACT ON THE WAY WE LIVE IS FUCKING INESCAPABLE. THEY’RE PEOPLE WHO *BUY* OUR LABOR, ACCRUE CAPITAL BY SITTING ON THEIR (SOMETIMES LITERAL!!!) THRONES, OWNING COMPANIES AND PEOPLE, SOMETIMES BEING A PUBLIC FIGURE (LIKE ELON MUSK) WHO RAKES IN ADORATION FROM HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF MINDLESS TWITTER DRONES WHO STILL BELIEVE IN CLASS MOBILITY****, OR SOMETIMES BEING A SHADOWY FIGURE IN THE BACKGROUND (LIKE THE KOCH BROTHERS) WHO JUST PASSIVELY RAKE IN THE BENEFITS OF OUR HARD WORK AND CAN’T BE ASSASSINATED BECAUSE NO ONE WOULD RECOGNIZE THEM IF THEY WERE SEEN AT KROGER. THEY ARE USUALLY BORN WEALTHY, BUT VERY RARELY THEY CAN USE THEIR CHARISMA, INTELLIGENCE, SOCIAL CONNECTIONS, AND INTRINSIC PRIVILEGE AS A WHITE PERSON TO YANK THEMSELVES UP FROM THE PROLETARIAT (READ MY CLASS MOBILITY NOTE FOR MORE!!!)

SO THE RESULT OF THIS CLASS DIVISION IS AS FOLLOWS:

THE PROLETARIAT NEVER EARNS THE ACTUAL VALUE OF THEIR LABOR. A “SMALL” CHUNK IS ALWAYS TAKEN OUT FOR THE PEOPLE AT THE TOP, WHO “RUN” THE COMPANY (BUT REALLY THEIR JOB IS USUALLY TO EAT FANCY LUNCH AND TELL RACIST GOLF JOKES TO RICH INVESTORS). IN FACT, WAGES ARE USUALLY ENTIRELY DISSOCIATED FROM THE ACTUAL PROFIT THE COMPANY MAKES. FOR A BUSINESS TO BE PROFITABLE, IT HAS TO PAY THE EMPLOYEES IT RELIES ON LESS THAN WHAT THEY BRING TO THE TABLE, WHICH MEANS MOST COMPANIES ESTABLISH A BASE WAGE THAT’S EITHER EXACTLY THE STATE’S MINIMUM WAGE OR A COUPLE CENTS HIGHER TO COMPETE. THEY LITERALLY PAY THE LEAST THEY LEGALLY CAN. SOMETIMES *LESS*.

YOUR JOB IS EXPECTED TO BE THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN YOUR LIFE. EXHAUSTED AFTER YOUR FORTY, FIFTY, OR SIXTY HOUR WORK WEEK? THAT’S JUST NORMAL, THEY’RE NOT SQUEEZING THE MAXIMUM AMOUNT OF LABOR OUT OF YOU THAT THEY CAN WITHOUT KILLING YOU! WANT TO TAKE A FEW DAYS OFF TO SPEND TIME WITH YOUR WIFE AFTER SHE GAVE BIRTH TO YOUR INFANT CHILD? SORRY, YOU’RE OUT OF SICK DAYS. MISSED THE BUS AND THERE’S NOT ANOTHER ONE FOR AN HOUR? IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR NOT HAVING A CAR OR SPENDING FIFTY BUCKS ON AN UBER. TRYING TO GO TO YOUR FIFTH FAMILY FUNERAL BECAUSE ALL YOUR RELATIVES ARE DROPPING LIKE FLIES AFTER A HARD SIXTY YEARS OF LABOR? OOH, SORRY, YOU ONLY GET FOUR FUNERAL DAYS A YEAR! NEED TO GET ANOTHER JOB BECAUSE YOUR CURRENT ONE DOESN’T PAY ENOUGH? WELL, YOU FORGOT TO DISCLOSE IT TO YOUR BOSS AND THEY FIRED YOU FOR TWO-TIMING THEM! A JOB IS MORE OF A COMMITMENT THAN A SPOUSE, AND IF YOU HAVE OTHER PRIORITIES, YOU WON’T LAST LONG.

BECAUSE THE BOURGEOISIE OWNS SERVICES THAT SHOULD BE PROVIDED BY THE GOVERNMENT, LIKE HEALTHCARE, HOME AND AUTO INSURANCE, A LOT OF HIGHER EDUCATION ESTABLISHMENTS, CREDIT BUREAUS, LOAN COMPANIES, AND HOSPITALS, PROFIT IS THE MOTIVE THERE TOO! WHICH MEANS IF YOU HAVE ANY KIND OF INSURANCE, NEED TO BUY A HOUSE OR A CAR, WANT OR NEED AN EDUCATION, ARE CHRONICALLY ILL, OR JUST EXIST ON A GENERAL BASIS, COMPANIES ARE RIPPING YOU OFF. YOU ARE BASICALLY PAYING THOUSANDS A MONTH FOR THE CHANCE TO GET *SOME* OF YOUR MASSIVE HOSPITAL BILL COVERED IF YOU GET IN AN ACCIDENT. THIS ONE IS NEAR AND DEAR TO ME. FOR UNIMPORTANT REASONS, I MANAGE TO RACK UP A LOT OF DEBT EVERY YEAR GOING TO HOSPITALS AND URGENT CARE, CALLING AMBULANCES, PAYING FOR MEDICATION THAT DOESN’T WORK. DID YOU KNOW YOU’RE CHARGED NIGHTLY TO STAY IN HOSPITALS LIKE THEY’RE GODDAMN HOTELS? LIKE IT’S A FUCKING VACATION? AND DID YOU KNOW THE BILLING DEPARTMENTS OF EACH OF THESE PRIVATELY OWNED ESTABLISHMENTS IS MADE UP OF UNDERPAID, OVERSTRESSED MEMBERS OF THE PROLETARIAT WHOSE JOB IS TO FUCK UP YOUR BILL SO YOU OWE MORE THAN YOUR VISIT ACTUALLY COST?

MEDICAL FACILITIES ARE ALSO PUSHED TO SELL OVERPRICED DRUGS THAT DON’T WORK TO PEOPLE. HEADS UP, GUYS, BUT ANTIBIOTICS DON’T WORK AGAINST VIRAL INFECTIONS, AND YET THEY’RE PRESCRIBED FOR THE FLU AND COMMON COLD EVERY DAY. AND SOMETIMES THE DRUGS DO WORK, BUT THEY’RE STILL OVERPRICED! IF YOU’VE BEEN ON THE INTERNET AT ALL THIS YEAR YOU’LL KNOW ALL ABOUT THE INSULIN CRISIS, WHICH WAS CREATED ARTIFICIALLY. BASICALLY THE PEOPLE WHO OWN INSULIN (YEAH, *OWN* A LIFE-SAVING MEDICATION) RACKED UP THE PRICE SO MUCH THAT PEOPLE COULDN’T FUCKING AFFORD IT ANYMORE, DESPITE A NORMAL DOSE OF INSULIN COSTING LIKE FIFTY CENTS TO MAKE?? OR, HOW ABOUT THIS—THEY INVENTED THIS COOL NEW CHEAP PAIN-RELIEVING DRUG CALLED FENTANYL AND DISCOVERED THEY COULD MAKE A SHIT TON OF MONEY OFF IT, SO DOCTORS PRESCRIBED THE HELL OUT OF IT UNTIL PEOPLE GOT SO ADDICTED TO IT THAT TENS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE DIED OF OVERDOSES. OH, DID I SAY “PRESCRIBED” IN THE PAST TENSE? MY BAD, THEY CONTINUE TO PRESCRIBE IT EVERY SINGLE DAY. IF YOU HAVE CHRONIC PAIN AND ASK DOCTORS NOT TO PUT YOU ON PAIN MEDICATION, A LOT OF TIMES THEY WILL STILL PUT YOU ON PAIN MEDICATION. IF YOU EXPLAIN TO YOUR DOCTOR THAT YOU KICKED A HEROIN ADDICTION AND YOU REALLY WOULD NOT LIKE TO HAVE OPIOIDS PUT IN YOUR BODY, THEY WILL PROBABLY STILL BE LIKE, HUH, SUCKS FOR YOU, AND PUT OPIOIDS IN YOUR BODY.

DO YOU WANT TO CHANGE ANY OF THIS? PERHAPS PETITION YOUR LOCAL POLITICIAN, OR GOD FORBID, STATE CONGRESSMAN, TO PASS A LAW THAT YOU THINK MIGHT IMPROVE YOUR LIFE? WELL, IT TURNS OUT YOU NEED A LOT OF MONEY TO RUN A CAMPAIGN NOWADAYS, AND POLITICIANS ARE ALLOWED TO BE SPONSORED BY BIG BUSINESSES, BECAUSE BUSINESSES ARE PEOPLE. SO IF YOU’RE THE SENATOR OF NEW JERSEY OR WHATEVER, AND YOUR CONSTITUENTS WANT YOU TO VOTE TO RAISE THE MINIMUM WAGE, BUT YOUR CAMPAIGN IS OWNED BY WALMART, WHO WANTS TO KEEP PAYING ITS WORKERS ELEVEN BUCKS AN HOUR, YOU HAVE THE CHOICE BETWEEN MAKING A COUPLE LITTLE WORKING CLASS IDIOTS ANGRY OR GETTING ALL YOUR FUNDING FROM WALMART PULLED BECAUSE YOU THREATENED THEIR PROFIT MARGINS.

NOT ACTIVELY DYING FROM A TREATABLE ILLNESS, WASTING AWAY FROM DRUG ADDICTION, OR ENTRENCHED IN SLAVERY TO A CORPORATION WHOSE PRODUCT YOU DON’T BELIEVE IN? GREAT! DID YOU KNOW THE PLANET WILL BE ON FIRE IN LIKE A FEW DECADES? OIL AND GAS COMPANIES HAVE SO MUCH INFLUENCE OVER THE LAWMAKERS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO PROHIBIT THEM FROM RUINING THE PLANET, THEY’VE PUT THE ONUS OF SAVING IT ON INDIVIDUALS’ SHOULDERS. REDUCE YOUR CARBON EMISSIONS BY TAKING THAT HOURLY BUS (YOU’LL EITHER BE FIFTY MINUTES EARLY TO WORK OR TEN MINUTES LATE!) OR RECYCLING YOUR SHIT (BUT IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOUR MUNICIPALITY CAN’T RECYCLE, THEY’LL THROW THE WHOLE BATCH OUT WHEN YOU PUT TRASH IN) OR TURNING THE LIGHTS OFF IN YOUR HOUSE (JUST EAT DINNER IN THE DARK YOU PIECE OF SHIT) OR INSTALLING SOLAR PANELS ON YOUR HOUSE (FUCK ME FOR RENTING I GUESS?) THERE IS SO MUCH WE CAN DO JUST WHENEVER TO SWITCH TO SUSTAINABLE ENERGY, BUT EXXON AND BP AND SHELL OWN SO MUCH INFLUENCE THAT WE’RE JUST *NOT*, AND LEAVING THIS WASTELAND OF A HOME PLANET TO OUR FUTURE GENERATIONS. BUT AT LEAST ELON MUSK BUILT THIS REALLY COOL LOW-POLY BETHESDA LOOKING PIECE OF SHIT FOR US TO MAKE MEMES ABOUT

HERE’S THE SKINNY OF IT, PEOPLE. THERE’S NO OUT WITHIN OUR CURRENT SYSTEM. EVEN IF YOU DID THE MAGIC AND PULLED YOURSELF UP BY YOUR BOOTSTRAPS AND NOW YOU’RE A BIG BOY WHO OWNS HIS OWN COMPANY, YOU LEFT BEHIND A BUNCH OF PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T WIN THE BIRTH LOTTERY LIKE YOU DID. INNOCENT FOLKS ARE DYING OF HUNGER OR ILLNESS THEY CAN’T AFFORD TO TREAT, CRASHING CARS THEY CAN’T AFFORD TO FIX, WORKING THEMSELVES LITERALLY TO DEATH TO SUPPORT THEMSELVES OR THEIR FAMILIES, AND SCRAPING BY WITH A MEASLY ALLOWANCE OF FREE TIME WITH WHICH TO UNWIND AND CATCH UP WITH OTHER PEOPLE. THEY DON’T HAVE TIME TO WATCH THE NEWS, THINK CRITICALLY ABOUT THE SOCIETY THEY LIVE IN, CONCEPTUALIZE UNIONIZING OR REVOLTING OR BUILDING GUILLOTINES. THEY WANT TO KEEP US EXHAUSTED AND STRUGGLING BECAUSE IT’S WHAT KEEPS THEM COMFORTABLE UP THERE, KNOWING NO ONE HAS THE ENERGY OR THE GALL TO TOUCH THEM. THE ONLY FUCKING WAY TO ESCAPE THIS HELL WE’VE CREATED IS THROUGH REVOLUTION. WE NEED TO SCRAP THIS WHOLE THING AND START OVER. BUT I THINK THAT’S ANOTHER ESSAY. ANYWAY I HOPE THIS WAS THOROUGH ENOUGH FOR A LITERAL ALIEN SOCIETY.

TL;DR: WE ARE ALL FUCKED IF WE DON’T OVERTHROW THE RICH.

---------------

*CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS IS SOME EUROPEAN WHO SAILED THE WRONG WAY AND ENDED UP IN THE AMERICAS. HE AND HIS BUDDIES RAPED AND PILLAGED THEIR WAY THROUGH A BUNCH OF INDIGINOUS COMMUNITIES AND DECIDED THIS COUNTRY WAS “FREE REIGN” TO SETTLE IN. HE IS HAILED AS THE AMERICAN ODYSSEUS AND CREDITED WITH THE “DISCOVERY” OF AMERICA BECAUSE OF COURSE ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO LIVED HERE FIRST DON’T COUNT??

**I DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT WARS EITHER BUT LET’S GET INTO IT FROM THE POV OF A GUY WHO PASSED HIS WORLD HISTORY CLASS WITH A STRAIGHT B MINUS.

THE FIRST WORLD WAR: I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THIS ONE.

THE SECOND WORLD WAR: THE ONE WHERE A BUNCH OF SCIENTISTS AND GOVERNMENT OFFICERS BOMBED A COUPLE OF CIVILIAN SETTLEMENTS IN JAPAN AND I’M PRETTY SURE AN *ENTIRE HAWAIIAN ISLAND* JUST TO SEE WHAT HAPPENED. TURNS OUT IT KILLED A BUNCH OF CIVILIANS. HUH! WHO’D HAVE EXPECTED THAT! OH IT ALSO TURNED AN ENTIRE GENERATION OF OTHERWISE DECENT FOLKS INTO RABIDLY PATRIOTIC IDIOTS, BECAUSE THE PACE AT WHICH THIS COUNTRY CHURNS OUT PROPAGANDA DURING A WAR IS FASTER THAN THE SPEEDING RUBBER BAND I SHOT WITH MY FINGERS AT THE TEACHER WHO WAS EXPLAINING WHY EVERY OTHER COUNTRY WAS IN THE ABSOLUTE WRONG DURING THIS CATASTROPHE.

VIETNAM: OKAY SO BASICALLY PEOPLE HATED THIS ONE BECAUSE THEY REALIZED SOLDIERS WERE GOING ALL CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS ON THE COUNTRIES WHERE THEY WERE STATIONED. ENOUGH SAID.

COLD WAR: THIS IS NOMINALLY A WAR BECAUSE THE GOOD OLD U.S.A. AND ITS HATEFUCKBUDDY THE U.S.S.R.† DID THIS WITH WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION

(EVENTUALLY THEY DECIDED TO PUT THE FINGER GUNS AWAY. I’M GONNA LET YOU TRY TO PUZZLE OUT ON YOUR OWN HOW COUNTRIES “PUT AWAY” NUCLEAR WEAPONS CAPABLE OF ENDING ALL LIFE ON EARTH.)

SPACE RACE: THE U.S. AND THE U.S.S.R. HAD A FUN COMPETITION TO SEE WHOSE DICK WAS BIG ENOUGH TO GET TO THE MOON. SCIENCE IS RUINED.

***ARTISTS, WRITERS, JOURNALISTS, VIDEO ESSAYISTS, AND ANYONE ELSE WHO ISN’T EITHER OWNED OR SPONSORED (THAT’S A FANCY WORD FOR “OWNED”) BY BIG BUSINESS TEND TO BE THREATENED BY POVERTY. PRETTY MUCH ANYONE WHO CAN FREELANCE ACTUALLY, BECAUSE WORKING FOR A CORPORATION PROVIDES THE SAFETY NET THAT SOCIAL PROGRAMS WOULD OTHERWISE TAKE CARE OF IF SOCIAL PROGRAMS WERE FUNDED EVER.

****ALSO KNOWN AS THE AMERICAN DREAM, IN WHICH *ANYBODY* CAN MAKE IT IN THIS COUNTRY IF THEY TRY HARD ENOUGH! UNFORTUNATELY THIS IS A MYTH, AS YOU CAN SEE BY THE FACT THAT I AM STILL REALLY POOR, AS IS LIKE 90% OF THE COUNTRY. PLUS CLASS MOBILITY WORKS REALLY HARD TO KEEP MINORITIES IN EXTREME POVERTY, BECAUSE IT DOESN’T EXIST AS AN ISOLATED SYSTEM AND ANYONE WHO THINKS IT DOES IS A DUMBSHIT WHO’S BOUGHT INTO THIS EVEN MORE THAN THE AVERAGE DUMBSHIT.

†RUSSIA’S COOL NEW NAME WHEN IT TRIED OUT SOCIALISM

#HERE YOU FUCKING GO ALIENS.#I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN A D MINUS FOR THIS IN SCHOOL.#FOR REASONS THAT ARE ESTABLISHED UNDER THE CUT.#{{i typed this in google docs? its uhhh 8 pages long #addiction/#drugs/#war/#uncle sam/#tesla truck/#watch as it fucks up the formatting and kills me instantly

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gg-astrology · 4 years

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Update Pt. II: Self-Realization and What I’m Going to do with my Old Posts

i.e. You ever experience having Big Fear of saying something on a subject, but being scared someone/something is going to Crash Down on you with a c/o about how Wrong you are? Here’s how I’m dealing with emotions and expectations and Big Fear of Consequences (incase it helps, but its just my personal experience + thoughts) 💕❤️💗

🚫long post🚫

*this is still just an update on what’s been happening in my life?? So this is literally just what I’ve thought about, processing and dealing with. It’s not really meant to be like - here’s a full-out well-explained educational post with an ending conclusion on the subject. I’m literally just recounting events of what happened and how I feel like I’d do to a friend irl - so I hope you guys can take it as such as well!

It’s not a big deal but I think it’s good to process, share and talk about overcoming my own personal issues with you guys!! 💕❤️💗

So:

There’s one day where I woke up (when I was still without my laptop) and saw someone comment on my old post. I have tumblr linked to my email for certain notifications - just so I can screen and know what to expect when I come into my inbox/replies.

Basically, it was an old post that I wrote trying to help anon but I was factually incorrect (to the point where I cringed at the first sentence and then shamed myself to bed 5 hours later) This made me realize my Top 10 Nightmare of Tumblr Paranoia had came true (at long last).

It’s probably bad to expect it to happen? But it happens y know. And I’m actually glad they commented because phew I want to actually make this blog a place where I can actually help people and talk about things more objectively. So heres the thing:

I’m going to go back and clarify parts of it. I’ll mostly keep most of the content intact because I think I had good intentions, I was just Lacking A lot of Fundamental Theory and Boy That’s Not A Good Thing For An Astro Blog NOT To Have.

I want to keep it as a process and archive of how far I’ve come and how much I’ve grown/learnt. I’m? decidedly not that proud of my earlier works - and there’s things I’m still concerned about that I want to go back and address/re-edit so it could be better. But I think it’s low-key kind of fun to see who you are in the past and how present me would view past me now?

It’s like a scrapbook of my astrology journey as well - like yeah I was wrong on things, but seeing me do more research and making actual pieces of work to complement my studies is like a portfolio of what I’ve done, how far I’ve come, how my objectives have changed (if they have/haven’t) what I could stand before but couldn’t stand now, or maybe some inspiration/insights that I lack now that I might’ve had before. Idk? I just think it’s a cool neat thing to not delete or erase, or Big Fear people will come see because it’s. It’s just there and it’s me.

BUT I do think? I should make it Good for everyone who still have access to the past works. It’s basically in my masterlist so it’s available to literally everyone who decides to check. And it’s NOT good if people get the wrong info because I lacked the knowledge and wrote it in a post, and still made the post accessible to everyone. That’s just.. irresponsible? On my part. And how I put everyone else up to it as well bc of my irresponsibility.

That’s Not Good. So I’m gonna do better to scan through past works and hash it out bit by bit, it’ll take some time but I’ll start with the one that was pointed out - and work my way to other ones as well just to check if they’re ok or not ok.

For Those Who Has The Big Fear as well:

I mentioned at the beginning, this is just me talking about what I want to do about it. I just wanted to share that experience, how I feel (Complete and Utter Shame, that was mixed with Embarrassment and Horror at myself - took me a good 3 days to Process my Feelings and came to that conclusion) -- and just y know -- I’m sure this is not just a Me Thing where you see your past stuff and you Know you’re embarrassed to talk about it. But. It’s not a bad thing. And here’s me living through it.

I think in the future - I’ll continue to be embarrassed by my lack of knowledge because I have a lot to learn. There’s plenty of people - you, me, this new person who seems to know terms you haven’t heard of before, this other person who has very formed opinions on things based on their own knowledge - who learnt things and know things.

It’s? difficult to be on top of it all the time, or know everything if you haven’t learnt about it before. So don’t be ashamed or scared that you don’t? Know everything?

When you’re beginning to learn a subject, I don’t know about others, but me and my friend have this Big Fear of saying the wrong thing or coming off too confident in something that’s Wrong and then someone coming after you/calling you out for it -- it was a mistake, or a lack of knowledge but you can’t be faulted for that.

How are you supposed to know something if you didn’t know? That also can’t be shamed. Maybe because we think we have to be accountable for ourselves and our lack of knowledge-- so we don’t offend someone Big who may be more knowledgeable and personally offended by just-- a person not knowing something.

I think we fear the consequences, sometimes more so than talking about it or enjoying the subject in open-ness to each others who have similar interests (there’s also an issue with inadequacy and comparison, but we’ll talk about that later see topic headers below).

I think the idea that we could get Wrecked and Hurt, Completely Mauled Over by something or someone’s influence/ideas that is Larger than us - intimidates us at a moderately core-level into Not Addressing It (i.e. Not Taking Action/Talking). Because the repercussion seems to be... wild, and Maybe We’ll be a ScrapeGoat of an Unfortunate Event and Thats Not Cool At All Yikes.

Addressing All The Fears (a Bundle Around This Big Fear Context)

I’ve talked about it before, like way back earlier in the days. But I’ve always had a Big Fear of this. That’s part of why I get so intimidated when someone I like/look up to follow me?

There’s always the tiny nagging suspicion and doubt underneath my anxiety regarding this topic - like I’m unsure whether they’re going to see how I talk, what I say, what I’m providing for others and cast judgement that it isn’t good enough - like maybe I’m wrong about something and I’ll have to live with it (unreasonable but still, a Fear) and they can See that and Know i’m wrong. That’s a big Shame and Embarrassed feeling for me (i.e. making a fool of myself, which is?? essentially what this is on)

I think throughout my time here... I’ve begun to slowly mend my ideas about that fear. Part of it is because I’ve learnt more, I’m more active in using my skill-sets.

It’s because I have this blog - that I decided I’m going to start it, and it’ll keep me active in learning that I got to build up my skill-set and kept myself in-check from there. I got to interact with different topics and themes, double-check my own understanding of topics/subjects, sure I don’t know anything and everything. All of this is just what I’ve learnt, and me actively learning as I go - and while it was -- Big Fear and Unstable Ground for a while, eventually I learnt to rely more on -- the support system and people who do appreciate you, like you, what they talk about with you.

You learn to appreciate the systems around you - the ones who interact and likes or ask and talk about stuff. The Fear and Responsibilities gets less and less fearful, because I’ve built trust in others - and it’s a reality check: that not all that’s in my head is good for me. Not even myself and my own thought is as good to me as the reality you live/have around you sometimes. And thats -- a fortunate thing, that’s something to not be taken for granted, and something I have to be thankful for. It directly addresses possible issues I didn’t know I had -- about how much this was weighing on me, by relieving me from it bit by bit as well.

And that’s what I should note on, because even just a solitary ‘like’ on a social media site-- when you’re scared or unsure of whether you’ve made a right call -- is enough of a support for you to rest a little easier, knowing someone else got what you intended and support you morally as well.

Standards and Logic: Ideals

I still get Big Fear because of my own ideals - like sometimes I have a mean voice? That just goes ‘you’re an astrology blog - your core/most basic requirement is to KNOW basic facts about astrology’ and then it goes ‘you NOT knowing something about the subject -- something basic, and STILL getting it wrong is absolutely irredeemable’

You know what’s the worst part about the mean voice? It’s because it’s my brain, it’s how I reason and logic. This is how I hold my own standards and ideals, and no matter how kind I am to others, my own core self isn’t kind to myself. Fundamentally --- since I couldn’t resolve it, I believe it’s my standard and is underlying in how I treat others too (even if I actively work to Not Let That Happen or Be True, it’s still a part of me).

I don’t want to treat others like that. That’s the scariest part. Part of the reason why it’s so hard - is because we see reason why our mean voice makes sense. To me, that’s objectively the ideal and standard. I already gave it my consent and agreement by understanding it’s logic - and now I fear it.

A part of me just going through this - is confronting this standard issue and my ideals. I think -- all of us who have Big Fear in some ways, understands the logic in just being Good at what you start out to do. Fundamentally, objectively. It kinda makes sense that if you’re going to write about biochem - you should get it right so you don’t fuck up about it.

But I think you all can tell now - reading it in third person - how you’re allowed to make mistakes? If you’re willing to say that to someone else and understand that-- even if you write about biochem, but you might’ve missed a few marks because you got the answer wrong--- it doesn’t mean you’ve completely jeopardize the subject itself and everyone who’s a master at it. You’ve just made a mistake. And everyone - realistically - realizes how little it matters when you admit or realize you’ve made a whoopsie.

Making Mistakes - Accepting Being Wrong To Not Become an Asshole

A mistake is a mistake, it’s a human error. People fuck up sometimes, but -- we learn from our mistakes.

It’s just a matter of accepting it in the first place? Being able to accept the mistake is what differentiate being an asshole to actually not letting it hinder you and moving on.

I think -- just in my case -- I can see why it’s easy to cling on. If you only have your skill-sets to hold onto to, it’s hard to accept any other form of opinions or ideas that challenges it. I think that’s -- ego -- but also defense/offensive action.

Not -- ‘im offended’ but more like, a tactical offense. I’ve seen people who manipulate others because they only have their skill-sets. Making the audience sway in their narrative and perspectives because they say it’s the ‘truth’ and that they’re knowledgeable or have experiences. I don’t necessarily agree with what they do, but that’s -- not on me, and I don’t care because that’s not something I?? feel comfortable addressing.

I offered this brief example - because it’s the opposite of ‘well I don’t feel adequate about my knowledge, maybe I shouldn’t say something because I don’t have anything to offer?’ - here’s an example of someone who has knowledge, and is saying something. But is perhaps doing it in a way that isn’t... ideal as well.

So if you think about the alternative: Which would you rather be?

We just gotta know how to deal with it and address all the different elements to it as we can (what we’ve touched on earlier: own voice, judgement from others, concrete-starting something and self-expectations, fearful of expectations, not accepting being wrong or making mistakes as an OK thing to do, and how to deal with it kinda)

Future Embarrassment (Continuous habit of being Embarrassed and Feeling Inadequate About your Skill-sets/Knowledge)

I’ve always thought about this - like how do I stop myself from being embarrassed and ashamed when I can’t fault myself for not knowing before - the only solution I can find for myself is just to do good.

Not suddenly go research and be on top of it with information + overloading myself like That kind of Good-good (‘im good at what I do’ -- not that type of good, confidence in skills doesn’t cover up insecurities and fear, but you can be confident in other areas you can shine light on better about yourself!)

Do good to me is to chew what I can, say when I can’t, have good intentions and offer the things you CAN give. If it’s insight, clarifications, open-opinions - most people who are coming to you and asking for you are people who appreciates intentions. Just as you expect the same back.

The most consistent thing I’ve ever done is to just be in the mindset of wanting to be good and pushing myself to be good. I’m not saying I’m like -- 100% whole-heartedly a Good Person. But if I just focus on my intent, how it underlines everything, keeping things clear with that intention in mind. As long as I aspire to be good to others, there’s not much else anyone can say to harm me or my motives I think.

Maybe I’m not that good in terms of skill-sets, but more in terms of wanting to do objectively the best that I can, and wanting the best for others. That’s the two things I keep in my mind and goals; in your own heart. Regardless of everything - these two things will keep you going if you truly want and work towards it.

Comparison to others/Inadequacy

I think that to others - maybe other people who have the same goal in mind; maybe same heart, maybe this would mean to do what they can and perhaps they are capable of achieving skill-sets, overcoming insecurities with knowledge and Not Feel Overwhelmed.

But I know that’s not for me? Not how I work or the best I can offer - of course I attempt it too and yeah it works sometimes, but my constant and my ideas haven’t been about being right or correct whenever I post or say something (although I strive to try and do it right, as much as I can) -- it’s always been about realistically - what can I do, what can I give that’s 100% me and what’s needed/capable of doing?

It’s hard because there’s also -- ideals about what IS the best solution. Like when presented with the same problems, same ask. You have two different people who share the same ideals and thoughts - both agreeing that the best way is to do it ‘like this’ - but one does it better and the other watches it knowing they couldn’t have executed it as flawlessly.

And maybe you’re the other - but that, doesn’t make it any less obvious when you see it in third-person that the other person has their own gift and methods that is just as valuable as the one who did the good execution. They provide and support one another, just have to find their wings and respect, appreciate and cherish (lift up) one another’s skill-sets and capabilities as well.

It’s hard to apply it back to yourself -- that your thoughts, words and knowledge is valuable to anyone or that it’s Not lacking in some ways. What you see of yourself - there’s others who sees it in a more tender way than you do. What you can control, and what you can do best, is to not expect yourself to be unrealistic - but expect to be realistic about what you can provide, if all else fails, anyways.

Stick to your guns - I’m basically just trying to say that. The feeling of inadequacy (that’s literally the core of it, underneath the shame) is fine -- and yeah. I don’t have? I’ve written alot but I hope this comes through well.

I’m working through it but I hope, this helps a little. If you’ve read it at all. It’s long and rambly, but I hope this -- helps? Anyone else? Or just myself who’s working through it. But -- I hope this gives strength or support to anyone who needs it. Thanks for reading if you’ve read!!!

#personal #psa #update #pt.2 #oooof long #queue-t

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