#damn really out here hashtagging depression | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

5hinee4ever · 3 months

Text

Hi guys, it’s me again.

I’m the person who made the “if you don’t support this respect Taemin thing you don’t care about Jonghyun” post last week.

I’ve since deleted the post because I thought it was really harsh and unnecessary and I was using words to get people to see my point, but I was angry.

What I wanted people to take away from that post is that Jonghyun would want us to challenge the K-pop industry and not be complacent with it, and saying “Taemin won’t be promoted because that’s just how the industry is” is complacency, and that if Jonghyun was here he would likely vouch for Taemin to get his year end stage, although I don’t know if the outcome would be any different. Guilty may not even exist. Things would be different if he was here but he isn’t.

It’s more about the fact that some non-Shawols took what happened and made it tragedy p0rn which is 100% not ok. However I see a lot of Shawols in defense to this spreading toxic positivity and almost shutting down people when they say they miss him or whatever, and most people only want to focus on cute and funny moments or his talent and not difficult topics.

We KNOW Taemin has struggles with anxiety and depression whether or not he wants to tell us this. The Taemin hashtags came out a day after I saw Holland’s post about wanting to leave the industry and I was just thinking about how closed-minded, homophobic, and static it is. I don’t know whether or not Taemin is queer himself, but he is definitely the target of some anti-queer ideologies because of how he dresses and presents.

I also genuinely believe that SM doesn’t promote his more “challenging” comebacks like “Guilty” because they don’t want to own up to their own mistakes in how they they failed to protect their young idols from harassment. There are many variety show clips of an underage Taemin being jokingly flirted with or hit on by older men and Jonghyun was the only one who seemed to try to do something. I am NOT saying the others didn’t care, I’m sure they were in an awkward position and didn’t know what to say. Key was laughing awkwardly in some of the clips I don’t think he found it funny, he was just trying to ease social tension or it was a nervous laugh. But I guess my point is a lot of people would be afraid to say something to put their careers at risk but Jonghyun gave the guy a warning.

I guess my point was that that we shouldn’t only remember Jonghyun as an amazing singer and artist and a sweet and funny person but also an activist, and one of the only people in the industry at the time to talk about mental health, LGBTQ, and women’s’ issues. But in addition to all that he was also Taemin’s biggest fan and would 100 vouch for him to have better opportunities in a case like this. I felt that saying Taemin won’t get promoted on these shows and we shouldn’t trend hashtags was disrespectful to both Taemin and Jonghyun.

But saying that “you don’t care about Jonghyun” is wrong. Some of you don’t, some of you who aren’t Shawols and don’t get it, and some of you who claim to be Shawols but miss the damn point all the time, or they only care about keeping an image intact. But I can’t say that everyone who disagrees with my way of helping Taemin is unsupportive or doesn’t care. I know hashtags and screaming into the void can come off as pointless or stupid. But I am autistic and have a very strong internal sense of justice, and I got angry and tried to keep spreading the tags to try to help. It didn’t matter because at that point all shows were scheduled. I also feel so helpless in the general state of the world, going on with my life when people are killed in wars and famine and how society feels like it is crumbling. I took hold of something I thought I could have some sway over and did it.

I want to make a formal apology to anyone I hurt with my words. There is no excuse for saying what I said, even if it may apply to some people, it may also reach others who were hurt.

Taemin just posted on Bubble that Yeonjun “relieved him of his sorrow” according to Google Translate, and someone in my group chat translated it to say basically that Yeonjun fulfilled his desire. So I think we can say Taemin is satisfied with Yeonjun’s performance despite him still probably preferring to do it himself. As a Moa, SHINee and TXT have a lot of mutual respect for each other and this is not the first time I’ve seen our fandoms going head to head, like with the light stick thing back in 2020, which was quite frankly stupid. I’m sure Taemin would have preferred to perform himself but he seems satisfied with Yeonjun’s performance and what’s done is done.

I now want to ask you to PLEASE not harass Yeonjun or Kiss of Life for the performance. If you want to get angry at anyone, you can get angry at SM or Golden Disc, but my “conspiracy” about his promotions isn’t even confirmed. It could be a simple business thing where they got fourth gen idols to get more views. The ship on this has sailed, and I’m seeing people still pissed and trying to trend the hashtags.

You should want him to get better promos and you should want the industry to face some of its glaring issues, like debuting such young minors, which Taemin addressed his own experience in Guilty…SM doesn’t want to talk about Taemin or Krystal or Sulli and the fact that Min Hee Jin is still in the industry says a LOT, it’s not only an SM problem but industry-wide.

But this particular issue is over, and we don’t need to discuss it anymore and start fights about it, since Taemin himself said he was satisfied with Yeonjun’s performance.

I want to add one additional note to the people who said that we were infantilize Taemin or treating him as helpless with these hashtags. I respectfully disagree, and believe that Taemin has and will continue to achieve a lot on his own, but having a strong support network is good for adults too, and fans should help artists achieve their goals especially when they are subverting industry norms. Adults also need strong support networks for their mental health, and I’m sure Jonghyun would vouch for that as well, but that doesn’t excuse my wording. All I wanted to do was be a supportive fan but I ended up attacking others. I feel like I need to apologize to Jonghyun too for using him like this.

So my main takeaways are:

1) we should remember ALL aspects of Jonghyun’s life and not ignore his activism or his support of Taemin and we should honor his memory by supporting positive change in the industry and

2) this specific Taemin issue is over, and harassing others over it who disagree with you is not okay, as well as harassing the idols who did the cover.

I just want to say that I will still have the petition for a world tour in my pinned post, and I want to get as many signatures as possible to show Taemin how much support he has and hopefully have it get back to SM as well for them to see the demand. This is one constructive thing we can do for the future. Also I don’t usually say this, but stream stream stream. I don’t support streaming culture on the whole, but Guilty MV really needs it and the song is so good I’m playing it on repeat anyway.

Again, I’m sorry if I hurt anyone, and I thank you for your patience.

-Riah

#jonghyun #lee taemin #shinee #taemin #sm respect taemin #give taemin a world tour #taemin shinee #kim jonghyun #apology #clarification #respect taemin #guilty year end stage

2 notes · View notes

deviantaccumulation · 2 years

Text

Rambling thoughts on Obi-Wan Kenobi (the series)

Man maybe I'm getting cynical or haven't consumed enough Star Wars lately, but the first two episodes were pretttttttttttyyyyyy underwhelming for me

I'm very glad many of the people I follow seem to be enjoying it, but so far I'm not really; if you don't want to hear me ramble about that for several paragraphs best stop reading now ':D

First episode was still kinda alright, though it dragged a bit, but I can vibe with taking it slow to establish the setting and where the characters are at and just the general mood of the show

Now I know the joke of The Kenobi series is just going to be Obi-Wan sad in a cave for 10 episodes is a true and tried one, but damn I wish they had spiced it up a bit. At this point it feels too cliche to actually go for depressed 24/7; I would have preferred there to be some variety, something about him interacting a bit with the locals (the part with the Jawa was cute but since they didn't return it felt very one beat), some appreciation of the beauty of the desert, some small joys, and then you can make the sadness hit that much harder when you contrast e.g. with the night terrors. Like this they just felt like another point on the checklist

Also what I'm afraid is dooming the series for me a bit is that I cannot get myself to like Leia. She feels like every generic bratty but supposed to be adorable child character to me and it is grating. There is a very fine line to walk with being bossy and talking back and not having it be annoying, and she falls very firmly in the latter. It doesn't help that within the plot she is constantly an obstacle and not a helper. Many of her actions in episode 2 seems extremely stupid, and while I can get with the whole Being a child and Being in a very dangerous and unpredictive situation and Being afraid, it does not make her causing half the problems in the episode that much less grating. Especially since the biggest one is literally a shrek-level of misunderstanding between Obi-Wan and her

In general, but in episode 2 more egriougsly, the show suffers from so many conveniences. People just meet each other within vast cities, they learn crucial information by happenstance, and so on and so forth. Episode 2 is all over the place with where its characters are at and when, it's bad both from a writing and editing stand point

Whined enough about the technical side now, moving on

I really wish Leia and Obi-Wan's relationship could be landing for me. If they continue with this plotline it will be a cornerstone of the series, and it could be absolutely adorable and wholesome, but at the moment I don't know which bantha wrote Leia's dialogue, everything she says feels very forced and unnatural. Yes, she's mature for her age, but can we please tone down the hashtag feminism girlboss energy and have her talk like an actual 9 year old once in a while

If there's one thing I like about the series it's the world. The worldbuilding is nice, and the sets and costumes are beautiful. I loved the bladerunner esque aesthetic of the planet of the second episode, and just the diversity of all the people milling around. Makes me sad that Obi-Wan is apparently contractually obliged to stick to the sand tunics when there is absolutely no in universe reason for him to do so? The whole planet knows your face, for the love of god just put on a helmet and pretend youre a bounty hunter of which there are thousands here.

Sigh

My main hope for the series is that they explore the spiritual angle of the Force a bit more, but so far that's not happening, though i will be patient about it and just hope it comes up in the later episodes

So far this is not a show I would recommend to someone who is not a big Star Wars/Obi-Wan fan, it's fairly mediocre so far with episode 2 nearing being bad

I'm still holding out hope that it gets better, and that we'll see a nice character arc for Obi-Wan and it will make it worth to start on such a monotone note, but my expectations are tempered

#obi wan kenobi #star wars #kenobi series #obi wan series #obi wan kenobi show

2 notes · View notes

coffeekoe · 2 years

Text

I just opened my tumblr to a giant rant about why asheiji is a terrible ship. What is actually wrong with this fandom? I mean this very genuinely and this isn’t about my love of asheiji, it’s about the fact that the people in this fandom literally HATE banana fish??

I see so many people ‘in’ the fandom posting rant after rant of anything and everything they hate about the show to the point where they hate,, everything?

It is so unbelievably bizarre to me, truly. Never before have I been in a fandom where the ‘fans??’ critique and criticize EVERYTHING. When I say EVERYTHING, I am not exaggerating though I honestly wish I were.

For the last few months i’ve gone out of my way to not read any paragraphs people write about the show because I don’t want to read about why this show that I love is trash or morally wrong or the ethics are bad or the plot is garbage, the ending is terrible, it shouldn’t have this key element in it ECT ECT.

It like,, depresses me that I go to these hashtags and fandom spaces to share love of this media I adore,, and then find the ‘fans’ bashing it and tearing it to shreds.

So many people have left this fandom and grown apart from it and I used to never understand why but now i sincerely do and don’t blame a single person for dropping their bf accounts\blogs because shit man i’m close to doing that too.

I can’t scroll past 5 posts in the tag without seeing people IN this community explaining why it’s terrible or why ships are terrible, the characters, the plot. Everything.

This is the kind of stuff i’d expect to see outside of a fandom, people constantly arguing and yelling about a media that they don’t like yet.. all of this has been within the fandom. Which is where all of my confusion, sadness and anger comes from.

I love tumblr, i really do. It’s such a funny place to create but i think as of right now i’m gonna stop posting my own bf content as I just from the bottom of my heart don’t want to interact with the people in the fandom on here.

That’s not to say I don’t have any really lovely mutuals who share very similar opinions and experiences to me but the bad definitely out-way the good.

More than any other app, i’ve seen the worst BF takes of my damn life on this site LMAO. And to be honest, i’m done. I’m done reading this bullshit. I’m done reading this slander?? and hated. I’m done reading horrid takes about ptsd, trauma, writing, art etc.

Seeing a massive post yelling why this ship that i’ve clung onto for support and happiness over the last year is awful was my last straw FR LMAOO.

I’m still making bf content and art and edits etc just not on here. It’s not like my content even ever did that well on here like?? So it’s not that big of a change LOL. If you want to see my banana fish art please follow my art instagram coffeekoe.art :)

EDIT: Just realized that the person who wrote that shit is a very mean\rude person to like everyone in their replies, and is getting fuckin clowned on for good reason HAHA this makes me laugh, banana fish tumblr fandom you have earned back points for this, still not gonna keep posting my stuff to the tag but,,, i applaud thee

#bye

1 note · View note

spectrumed · 3 years

Text

3. sadness

Don’t be like that. Be like this, or be that other thing. Be unique, but don’t be too unique. Fit in, but try to be a rebel. Be a renegade, but don’t rock the boat. Don’t know what you are supposed to be? What? Do you have imposter syndrome or something? Just be yourself, but, y’know, sand down the edges a little bit. Be friendlier. Be the kind of person everyone likes. Be the life of the party! Don’t be some shut-in, some crazy cat-lady with absolutely zero social life. Don’t be sad. Don’t burden others with your sadness. Work to maximise the total happiness of your community. A smile goes a long way. Can’t smile? You really can’t help but being a sourpuss all the time? Well, I guess maybe that if you can’t help but stay in a perpetual bad mood bringing everyone else down… then maybe you should just stay isolated? Better stay alone, away from others. You’re toxic. You’re just so damned sad. You really must be quarantined.

I am sad, a lot of the time. Are you? But, no, you can’t just admit that you are sad. Don’t be a buzzkill, try to inject a little humour into the things you say. You can admit you’re depressed, if you do so with a joke. Don’t let others know you’re being sincere. Ironic jokes work the best, don’t they? They let you confess your secret gloom to everyone around, but they’ll never know just how serious you’re being. With a wink of the eye, any candid expression of your inner turmoil can become a hilarious post-modern gag. Are they or are they not telling the truth? Oh, I’ll never tell! And it will all work out excellent, up until the day you commit suicide. But every comedian’s time in the limelight has to end at some point, right?

This blog is supposed to be about autism spectrum disorder, why am I suddenly discussing depression? Well, I suppose that it is time we bring to the table this little thing called comorbidity. Psychology is messy. Some would argue that it is barely even a real scientific field (I tend to think that it is the best thing we have, but I acknowledge that in places, psychology is fundamentally flawed.) You may have thought that you’d get just one diagnosis. One simple label that you can work through and overcome. You’re bipolar, now go deal with it! But instead, you find yourself with a whole fistful of diagnoses. What to hear my proud list of diagnoses? Oh, please, don’t think because I am listing them this one certain way, I put them in order of relevancy to me. I love all of my diagnoses equally.

My diagnoses are:

Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD)

Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD)

Agoraphobia

Possible Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

Asperger syndrome (AS)

No, I was never officially diagnosed with depression, but largely because, at the time I received these diagnoses, my depression was so blatant that it felt as if I was walking around with a cloud of miasma surrounding at all times. Imagine me as Pig-Pen from Peanuts, but instead of being covered in dirt, I was covered in the funk of melancholy. And whatever treatment I would eventually go on to receive (and still am receiving to this day,) would go about treating my anxiety first, and hopefully, the depression would give in alongside the anxiety. It has, for the most part, though, I still feel the presence of that black dog from time to time. I also got only a half-hearted potential diagnosis of OCD, but later, during a trial of an antidepressant that had a freakishly negative impact on my psyche, it blossomed into a fully-grown attention-craving condition. Turns out that OCD can be a real hog for the spotlight, really not allowing any of the other diagnoses to take their turn on stage. Thankfully, when I got off that particular antidepressant, those symptoms stopped, but it has led me to be far more aware of my internal obsessive-compulsive thought patterns. For me, OCD largely lacks physical compulsions, but my mind is ablaze with intrusive thoughts, and I will routinely force myself to repeat certain phrases in my head to make them go away. The funny thing is, I never realised that wasn’t normal.

Diagnoses are an attempt to map out a spiders’ web of problems. Things come hand in hand. While I’m no psychologist, I can speak from the perspective of someone who has been through the psychiatric process, which I suppose, lends me a certain kind of expertise, doesn’t it? Maybe it really doesn’t. Maybe I’m just throwing words out there, thinking that I could serve a good purpose, but instead all I am doing is contributing to this great onslaught of digital disinformation we’re all suffering under. But I’m probably just too doubtful of myself. I am speaking about myself, after all. I’ve got first-hand experience in being myself. I know exactly what it feels like to own this skin, these bones, this heart, and this mushy brain of mine. I’m not claiming to know everything. I’m just claiming to know about this one sad individual writing this hoping it might allow someone to reblog my posts with the hashtag “relatable” one day.

Anxiety runs in my family. The neurosis demon gets passed down from generation to generation, only occasionally skipping a beat. My mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, though, she has for the most part of her life not had it to quite the excessive degree that I have it. I really took that genetic predisposition for anxiety and ran with it. And while I’m the only person in my family to have gotten diagnosed as being “on the spectrum,” there are a few members that I kinda sort of in a way actually quite seriously suspect might also be here somewhere on the spectrum. Still, as always goes with diagnosing, there’s no point in doing it unless the person is in need of some kind of treatment. I wholeheartedly believe that most people on the planet belong to one spectrum, be it an autism spectrum, a bipolar spectrum, a narcissism spectrum, even a schizophrenic spectrum, but diagnoses should be exclusively reserved for those who need psychiatric care. The world is a spectrum, and it’s worth noting that the terms “sane” and “insane” do not alone capture the complexity of the human psyche. A person can appear perfectly sensible, yet at some point in their life, they may have been a real silly little bugger who thought that their pet hamster was the reincarnation of the Buddha. Just as with physical health, one can struggle with one's mental health for one period in their life, only to later on in life feel utterly and entirely mentally healthy. Or, well, sadly in a lot of cases, people who were perfectly mentally healthy may suddenly become diagnosed with dementia. But that’s really sad, so let’s not talk about that.

Is it all genetic? Well, no. Or well, maybe? In regards to autism, I am pretty sure that, yes, it is genetic. While, yes, I do admit that I’m just a dummy on the internet, so what do I really know? And the brain is such a complex bit of mushy meat, so I could always be proven wrong. Though, I tend towards thinking that there most likely is principally a genetic factor to conditions like autism, or attention deficit disorder (and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder,) or things like bipolar disorder. But with anxiety, quite frankly, I can’t say how much of it is nurture and how much of it is nature. I mentioned that my mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, so that would imply that there is something in one's genes that can make some more prone to anxiety than others, but my mother does not struggle with agoraphobia, nor does she seem to have any obsessive-compulsive tendencies. In fact, in my family, even those that exhibit some element of heightened anxiety, they don’t seem to show any milder symptoms of this kind. I can’t help but feel as if these conditions I gained through that tortuous period of every boy’s and girl’s (and boy-girl’s) life is called puberty. I hate to conform to stereotypes but I did indeed hate being a teenager. Believe it or not, I wasn’t a jock, and no, I didn’t go to parties. I mostly spent my time crying.

The question that no doubt plagues every movie psychiatrist to no end is what kind of trauma must a person undergo to make them go mad? Abusive parents? Abusive uncles? Abusive teachers? Abusive dogs? Honestly, to be an adult raising a child must be rough, considering how any mistake you make might suddenly turn your little babe into a future serial killer. Now, there’s no doubt that there are some seriously terrible parents out there, and that a lot of people have mental woes that definitely came about due to their parents and their abysmal lack of parental care. But generally, how much can you actually blame on your parents? We know the cliché, let’s go sit down on the sofa and complain to our Freudian hack-shrink all about those times as a kid our dad missed the big game, or that time our mother embarrassed us in front of all of our friends. I have plenty of things to complain about my parents, like I believe we all have. Our parents are flawed, messy human beings, of course they occasionally made mistakes throughout our upbringings. But is that nearly enough to turn a person mentally ill? Putting up with an at times really embarrassing mom? No, I don’t think so. And of course, there are some real awful parents out there, I’m not doubting that. Trust me, I’m a fan of true crime, so I’ve heard some real grizzly stories of what some kids are forced to grow up with. But I am thinking that those instances are more rare than they are common. Most people with mental illnesses can most likely not blame their parents.

How ‘bout bullies? Yes, them bullies. Them awful mean bullies that made all of our lives so painful. It’s funny, it seems like every school had their own fair share of bullies, and yet no-one as an adult ever comes forward to admit that they themselves were the bullies. It’s almost like as if no-one ever thinks of themselves as being a bully, even when they are throwing rocks at that weird chubby kid with blonde hair who happens to be named Fredrik and who just wants to be left alone. Was I bullied? Well… yes. But I can’t say I got the brunt of it. I got bullied, but overall I’d say I only ever had it slightly worse than most people. I was still quite tall, typically taller than my classmates growing up, and for the most part I could roll with the punches. If you really want to talk about a kid I knew growing up that got bullied, let me tell you about this kid who knew all the right dances for all the right Britney Spears songs. He was gay, I think. Not quite old enough to have come out, I suspect, but, well... He liked all the female pop stars, but not in that way of wanting to kiss them and fondle their boobies, but in the “I want to sound just like them when I grow up” sort of way. I don’t know what happened to him (or them, or her, depending on how they identify now,) but that was real bullying. Like most folks, I found myself stuck in that limbo of seeing others get bullied far worse than me and being too cowardly to intervene, in fears that I’d end up taking their place. Yes, isn’t school just a marvellous place? It’s a wonder any of us turn out okay.

No, I think that, fundamentally, the problems I have arose with myself. This, blaming myself, is not something that I am unused to doing. I have a long history of blaming myself, that’s really the problem. As a teenager I knew that I was different, and I was frightened and scared of being exposed. I didn’t even really know what it was that was different about me, I just knew that I didn’t fit in. I felt as if I didn’t deserve to fit in. The older I got, the more intense these feelings got. And I started taking it out on myself. I started hating myself. And I really mean furiously hating myself. It wasn’t some casual self-loathing, it was searing self-hatred. I did not physically hurt myself, but I did engage with self-harm. I kept repeating the mantras of “I hate myself,” and “I am pathetic,” over and over again, with the ultimate goal of making myself cry. For a period, I couldn’t go to bed without making myself cry first. I began taking days off from school, pretending to be sick. Well, I suppose I was ill, but not physically. I began failing most of my classes, I only ended up doing well in art. I stayed away from school for whole weeks at the time. Once, when I shame-facedly returned to school some of the meaner boys came up to me and said that they were surprised to learn that I was still alive. They were surprised, but also a little disappointed.

This was a time in my life when I really needed psychiatric care. This became increasingly obvious to my parents, and my teachers. I was clearly suffering from depression. Not just some teenaged angst, but full-blown, wholly insidious, depression. But, well, I didn’t get the care that I needed. Oh, I did go to see a psychologist a couple of times, but she saw no reason for me to continue seeing her. I don’t know why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help, frankly, I can’t fathom why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help. I suppose I avoided telling her the truth of what went on inside of my head, but I feel like as if any good psychologist would have been able to tell that the kid sitting across from them was clearly suffering from something a tad more intense than just some common concerns about puberty. At most I was able to confess was that I was feeling ashamed over myself for getting so fat, but it should have been clear to anybody that I was only using that as a hook to hang my self-hatred on. There very clearly was some underlying condition that I had that should have gotten addressed. But it went ignored.

At most I can think to explain this is the fact that I wasn’t “problematic.” Not in the way some kids are, when they’re struggling with their mental health. I did not act out, I did not take drugs, and I was certainly not violent. Even to this day, though I have at many times suffered from suicidal ideation, I am a real low-risk for actual suicide considering my intense fear of dying (yes, that’s an odd combo to have.) So, I’ve come to realise that the only way I am getting treatment is if I actually seek out treatment. And back then, I was just as placid as I had previously always been. I was quiet and introverted, just desperate to get back home so I could go and hide in my room. Many teenagers are like that. And it is easy to ignore them, because they want to be ignored. They just don’t want to exist. When you are desperate to be left alone, eventually people will leave you alone. I would go on to receive psychiatric care later on my life, but only after several years passed. I did have a better time living in my later teenage years, but like with a bone that heals wrong, I needed someone to come in and sort me out. I was sad as a teenager, but I would become really sad as a twenty-something. Hopefully my thirties will be jolly.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

7 notes · View notes

everything-laito · 4 years

Note

So I was reading Laito's Dark Fate brute ending where Yui dies and Laito breaks down crying and screaming. It made me wonder if Yui or someone Laito truly loved died what would happen to Laito afterwards? Would he go back to his old ways like in HDB or MB?

Hello anon! If you saw this answered with just an “H” and was probably like “what the heck, where’s my answer” I really apologize about that! I was on a lil analysis writing spree and to make it easier for me to do these, I have to transfer them to a draft on my phone (cuz you can't draft asks on desktop for some reason) to access it on my computer to add hashtags and all that. So!!! Here is your answer!!! LOL!!! (Also this got notes when it was just “h” like y’all really out here liking my content even when nothing’s there, damn ya got high expectations for me LMAO!) Anyways, my kerfuffle aside, here is your answer below the cut! And as always, thanks for stopping by!

I just wanted to start out with, dang!!! I haven’t played or read dark fate yet cuz I really want to go into it kinda blind but have the game in hand. But, I ordered it last week and it shouuuuuuld come within uh,,,, two months,,,,??? So I don’t know the dark fate context as much, but I will do my best to answer it.

So ya boi Laito breaks down crying and screaming cuz Yui dies. I’m not sure how she does, whether it’s at his own hands or not, but she is liven’t. I assume that she died not as his hands though, since Laito ends up killing her in his brute endings in HDB and I think MB too?

Yes, I do believe that he’d probably go back to his old ways in HDB. He’d be depressed. So depressed. There’s that part in his Ecstacy chapter (that I love cuz I love angst) in MB that Yui sacrifices herself for him, and he starts crying and wishes she was back. We don’t see much of his grieving process considering Yui came back to life (Karl was like “no bitch, go back”).

Like I've said in many other analyses, and what you probably have observed, Laito takes his trauma and abuse and general emotions and projects them onto his victims. That’s not a farfetched thing, (god separate note, I hate that I spelled farfetched as the pkmn “farfetch’d at first, if you don’t know me, I’m also obsessed with pkmn) since stuff like this does happen in real life, whether it’s just from someone’s abuse or being insecure about yourself.

I believe that Laito would definitely be angry, depressed, and definitely dig himself deeper in his mind so he won’t confront his emotions about it. Like I’ve said in other analyses, Laito hates emotional confrontation. He’d be a mess, and definitely try the whole “drink to forget” tactic; but except alcohol it’s actual blood and sexual pleasure. If he ever gets over it (not likely cuz he lets emotions fester), it would be a long time for him to attempt any kind of actual love again, if ever.

Basically Laito’s the worst with emotions. I know this was a shorter one, but hopefully that answered your question though! If you want me to add onto anything or clarify anything etc etc, let me know! My dms and ask box are open :)

#laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #raito sakamaki #sakamaki raito #dialovers #dialover #dl #diabolik lovers #analysis

65 notes · View notes

a-pretty-nerd · 4 years

Text

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 3

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 1,556

Warnings: Panic Attack, themes of depression and self-hatred. Later chapters will include violence and nsfw content.

A/N:

I'm gonna try and have a pretty regular posting schedule. From now on I'm going to try posting once a day, even of its just a headcannon, I wanna post once a day now. I'M GOING TO TRY AND POST ONE CHAPTER A WEEK. Especially for this series, I'm having a lot of fun with it but Tumblr doesn't seem to like it and refuses to post it to the hashtags. Sorry, I know this chapter is kinda short, but I feel like this series deserves a slow, intense, burn.

Don't forget, I have a Patreon, where you can join my discord, vote on new projects, and make requests! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Days passed.

It all felt like a strange blur. You wondered around the abandoned house the villains called their hideout for the time being. You spent hours watching the news that Shigaraki constantly played. Despite being the daughter of the Japan’s #1 hero, there wasn’t a single report of your disappearance. You were confused.

“They’re probably keeping the investigation quiet. Y’know, so we don’t see them coming.” Dabi told you one day as you sat on the old dusty couch and watched. You watched helplessly as the group came and went, always having someone stay behind to ‘babysit’ as Mr. Compress referred to it.

You were allowed to wander around the old abandoned building the villains called their hideout. At first, you thought it was a house but now you realized it was an old office building. The villains mostly stayed in a specific part where they were made comfortable. It appeared that only a certain part of the building had power. Everywhere else was dark and cold and uncomfortable.

“Yeesh, you stick!-Take a bath!” Twice shouted at you one day. You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your hands under your arms.

“Speak for yourself! Not my fault you guys didn’t exactly grab me a change of clothes, or let me piss alone much less shower!” You shouted in frustration. It all seemed to dawn on them at once, maybe they hadn’t exactly thought this through all the way.

“Y’know what? You’re right! I’ll be right back!” Toga declared with a smile.

“Where are you going?” Shigaraki asked as he watched her head for the door.

“It’s a surprise!” She closed the door behind her and the room fell silent. Spinner soon approached only to recoil in disgust.

“Twice is right, you do stink.” He grunted.

“Thanks…” You grumbled.

“Here take this and go wash off.” He held out a raggedy towel. You were directed to a bathroom with a makeshift shower in it and told to wash off before the bathroom door closed. The water was horribly cold.

You stood under it and let the water wash over your naked body. Man, you really were dirty. The cold water soon became warmer and you lost yourself in the feeling of it. You closed your eyes and melted. Soon, the feeling of tears running down your cheeks mixed in with the sensation of your wet hair tickling the back of your neck. You crouched down and held your knees to your chest as you began to sob uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop it, the pain in your chest flowed out through your lips are you cried. You held yourself tight, your fingers digging into your legs. The pain was so intense, and your thoughts so muddied, you could see yourself sitting there, just crying. Objectively, you watched yourself and criticized.

This was all your fault, your mother and father are worried sick about you. All because you pushed yourself too hard and couldn’t fight back. You’re a mess. You deserve this. You’ll die here, they’ll kill you before you can see your parents again. You’re worthless. You can’t even protect yourself.

These thoughts only made the pain more intense, it made it worse. You sobs grew louder and louder and the pain grew and grew. It got to the point where you felt unable to control yourself. You began lashing out, hitting your own head, and scratching your legs. Then another thought emerged.

This wasn’t your fault. If it weren’t for him. If it weren’t for your father and his stupid fucking hero work, you’d be home right now. You’d be safe and sound and unbothered by this hero/villain mess. He didn’t even want you to come to Japan, so why were you here? He doesn’t even want you. And your mother, she’s the one that sent you. This was her idea. This was her fault too. Anger fed the pain in your chest and it ached. The attack on your mind and body ragged on, until you heard a knock on the door.

You felt unable to move, unable to stop. You cursed yourself again. They could hear you, couldn’t they? They could hear you crying. You expected someone to yell, but there wasn’t a voice. The door slowly opened and shut. The curtain was slowly drawn back and two eyes looked down at you. You shook violently as you looked up. Suddenly you became very aware that you were naked.

“Why are you crying?” Toga asked as she knelt down to get closer to you. You couldn’t respond. “What’s wrong? We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright. Look, I brought you some new clothes.” She reached out a hand and rubbed your naked back.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” You croaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she reassured, “you’re safe here, no one is going to hurt you. And if anyone does, you come to me, alright?”

“O-Okay.”

“Are you done washing off?” You shook your head no. “Okay well finish up and try these on. I think you’ll like it.” She set the new clothes on the bathroom counter before leaving you. You sniffled and struggled to stand, but you managed. You took deep breathes and tried to soothe yourself. You felt drained and empty now, if not a little bit better. You stepped out and looked at the clothes on the counter. They were soft and comfortable, how did she guess the right size of underwear but the wrong size shirt and pants? They were just a little big, they fit fine where it mattered, but just a little baggy everywhere else. Definitely not something you’d pick out for yourself, but it would do for now.

You brushed through your wet hair with your fingers and stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Your eyes were red and puffy, your face flushed. It made your heart race to know that everyone was well aware you were crying. You opened the door and everyone turned to look at you again. Oh god. Toga pulled herself away from what looked like a chat with Shigaraki.

“Damn! One size off! I knew it!” Toga shouted as she approached you to examine the clothes on you.

“They’re fine, really.” You mumbled to her as she pulled on the pants at the band.

“Are they comfortable at least?” She asked folding her arms over her chest.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Oh don’t mention it! Next time I’ll have to take you shopping with me!” She smiled. Next time? Take you? You stared blankly at her. She pulled you with her to sit on the couch and watch more of the news.

“You know. Now that I think about it. I don’t think he wants it out that I exist.” You thought out loud.

“What do you mean?” Toga asked. You turned to her with a blank face.

“Its always been a secret. I could never talk about my dad, even when I was little. Everyone assumed I just didn’t have a dad. Even when we came to visit when I was younger, no one knew I was his daughter. If the public asked, I was his niece. They always told me it was for my own safety. I get that now.” You chuckled to yourself. “But that’s probably why there’s no report on my disappearance. No one can know. I’m just a dirty little secret.”

“Xavier! Over here!”

Your mother called as she stood partially outside a taxi. Xavier, your “boyfriend” waved back to your mother as she dragged along his luggage.

“Ms. Y/L/N! I’m sorry I’m late! The flight was delayed, I came as soon as you called.” Xavier was a clean-cut, academic genius. He wore slacks and a button-up on a daily basis. He was incredibly smart with several degrees by his early twenties and already on his way to becoming a very successful lawyer. He was handsome, conventionally so. He was handsome, smart, thoughtful, and generous. He was everything your mother wanted for you.

But that was it, he was a gift from your mother you took reluctantly. She knew his father from work, it was all set up. You had been together for roughly a year now. You liked him enough to date to try and love even. He was nice and even fun at times. But you were lying every time you told him you loved him. You had been meaning to break it off for some time now, but you were unsure. You feared disappointing your mother, again. You were afraid to hurt him. You thought your trip to Japan would allow you to clear your mind and think about things before making a decision.

Your mother brought him back to your father. Who was far too busy worrying about you to really care to give Xavier the time of day. Xavier had a very specific quirk, one that came in handy in the legal field. He could tell whether or not someone was lying just by making eye contact with someone. He was now going to be a key player in getting you back. He, like your mother and father, was not going to rest until he had you back. You can be sure of that.

Taglist:

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

#mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki x reader #Tomura Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki smut #tomura x you #tomura shiragaki #Tomura Shigaraki x All Might!Daughter!Reader

138 notes · View notes

stylecouncil · 3 years

Note

This might be dumb to ask but I’m curious, I was a big fan of reading the Great Gatsby in high school and what would you suggest to read first out of Fitzgerald’s works? I’d like to read more of his I just don’t know where to really start

not dumb at all! he’s my favorite author (which I know is very hashtag basic but I’m doing it in a cool, fun chic way lol) so idk if I’m the best person to ask from a critical perspective of what’s best (I love or at least like significant parts of everything) but here’s some suggestions!

As far as novels go, out of his four completed ones (This Side of Paradise, The Beautiful and the Damned, The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night) my favorite is Tender is the Night, but if you haven’t read This Side of Paradise I would probably recommend going to that one next. It’s his first novel so it’s not quite as precise as Gatsby for example but I think it’s fun and you can see where he laid the foundation for a lot of themes he would be exploring in the rest of his work. But really I can’t recommend all of them enough! He also was working on a novel at the time of his death called The Last Tycoon and that’s a great read as well if you get the chance (and maybe would have been my favorite if it was ever completed!).

I also recommend checking out some of his short stories. I have some personal favorites but honestly I would just recommend picking up one of the many compilations of them out there that have been put together and seeing what interests you!

My absolute FAVORITE singular piece of his writing though is a fairly short autobiographical essay installment he wrote for Esquire in 1936 called The Crack Up. I think it’s such an interesting exploration (and a public personal exploration which was so rare at the time) of mental health / depression. It, along with other pieces of writing of his (like stuff from journals etc. and letters) were published in a longer book format also called The Crack Up and I literally cannot enthuse about it enough. Also, it’s a good entry point to see if you’d want to read one of his letter compilations which I also really enjoy.

Sorry that was a lot and I basically recommended everything!! but tldr if you’ve looking for a novel to read next I would either go back to the beginning with This Side of Paradise or go with his novel after Gatsby which is Tender is the Night

#I hope this maybe helped a little?? sorry it’s so long #also the novel thing kind of depends on what you’re in the mood for because tender gets VERY dark. this side of paradise is a lot lighter #and the beautiful and the damned falls kind of in the middle #asks

3 notes · View notes

praphit · 3 years

Text

JL - The Snyder Cut: A Quarter Pounder With Cheese

Was it 2017 when The Regular Ass Justice League came to the big screen? Idk. I can't remember anything before COVID.

I thought that movie was... decent. It was somewhere between "ok" and "good"; that's not a knock against it. It's like a quarter pounder with cheese. You know??

- it's about 1pm at work, and you ain't had lunch yet. You'll annihilate

a QPWC, but you also can't say it's a gourmet burger from some fancy spot; they put love and time into their burgers. If you compare a QPWC to THAT... then you might call it somewhere between "shit" and "almost ok"; movie snobs said things like that.

I wasn't like the snobs. I was like - "QPWC". But, in the defense of the snobs, it's hard not to compare the reg ass JC to a gourmet burger like The Avengers:

A team is assembled, there's a destroyer of worlds lurking about, there are magical alien objects to collect, there's a part in this new version that has a similar battle axe scene to Thor/Thanos, there's a character who at times can be a bit sexualized - and I'm not talking about Wonder Woman. I'm talking about

Aquadude.

"Wait, are we about to eat? I better pop this shirt off. I don't wanna get food on it."

"Wait, are we about to watch Tv? I better pop this shirt off, so the couch doesn't wrinkle it."

Zack Snyder came along and said "Quarter Pounder With Cheese?! Well, yeah, but that wasn't on me at all. Y'all need to see MY vision! MY burger would have been glorious!"

So, here we are... kinda like a second date, when the first one was 'ok', but not quite "the one". DC was like "That date, we were rushing things and may have gotten a lil handsy. We were copying moves we saw in other films and it was awkward. And something was up with our face that night.

BUT, this time, will be different!"

Let's talk about what's different:

#1 - The Flash

We get a lil more back story with him, but in the process an awesome scene where he saves some black woman with his lightning speed (so fast that everything is slow). I loved this!

The black woman whom he saves, I can only assume is Iris. I'm not a super comic geek, but I've seen the Tv Series (hence my assumption).

Flash is apparently all about black women. Maybe I should go back and read some of his comics. Perhaps he ONLY saves black women; pretty, young, single black women :)

He had better be careful with his hands as he saves them, with things all slow. I was watching him when he saved Iris.

Sometimes, you might have to feel some one up in the process f saving their life, you know?? I don't know, but Flash does :)

I'm just saying... my man might get hashtagged, if he's not careful.

#2 - Darkseid

He is the thing of nightmares and it's perfect! He is everything that I wanted Apocalypse in that awful X-Men movie to be.

A villain as powerful as Darkseid should look menacing.

Not like this -

But, like THIS.

YES!

He looks like he has been possessed by several spirits, and all of these spirits are high on meth and voodoo.

#3 (now this was unfortunate) Lex and The Joker make an appearance.

(Joker here lookin like he just got finished eating ribs. What the hell is going on with his mouth?)

Ugh.

We told y'all that these two were bad. Real, real BAD! It's like me saying that the cologne you were on our last date smelled like expired sauerkraut juice, please don't wear that on this next date. YET, here it is... stankin up the joint!

Some may say, but Joker revealed some things that could be interesting for Batman, moving forward... Spoiler Alert - in the future, Batman bleeps up! That's not much of a revelation. Batman is always screwing up. Just look at Arkham - full of his screw ups.

But, that's a story for another day (a day that hopefully, will NOT include actors Jared and Jesse).

#4 - Martian Manhunter.

He looks smoove. I don't know much about him. I've seen him in some cartoons. I imagine that someone who knows nothing at all about this universe would have been totally confused. But, regardless, he looked great! I hope we'll see him in the future. Why is the second part of his name "manhunter" though? First order of business, if he joins the team, is to change his name. Though perhaps all martians have names like that:

"Martian Boozehound", "Martian Cock Blocker", "Martian Narcissist". Maybe they'll all join one day.

The Martian didn't really move the plot though. He was just there to be kinda "look-at-me".

Think being on this second date, and at dinner, the person randomly starts juggling. You're like "That's really cool, but can we get back to the meal."

#5 - Steppenwolf!

YES! YES! and more YES! There's no way anyone can hate on his new look.

We also get some backstory as to why he's doing what he's doing. Before I thought he was simply being mean because his name is "Steppenwolf" A name like that demands that he be bullied. But, here, we find that he has pretty much been canceled. I don't know what he did or tweeted, but Darkseid wasn't having it. Now, he's gotta do everything he can to get back into the fold; popping up random places and doing what he must to be redeemed - kinda like Louis C.K.

#6 - A lil more attention to the characters

a) Alfred being a gadget wiz.

b) Wonder Woman reminding us how amazing she is. Where was this woman in her sequel? THIS WW, I’d follow to hell and back.

c) Aquadude had some more scenes for build up as well.

Unfortunately, this woman was a part of it.

She's not bad at acting, she's just a bad person (look her up if you don't know what I'm talking about).

d) Batman though --- it's not that I don't like Affleck in there. His Batman just looks so old, slow, and tired. There are some more chemistry/slightly flirtatious scenes with him and WW, and I'm like "Dude, there's no way that you have the energy for that action." :)

e) Cyborg though (Ray Fisher)-

He's the star of this cut! Before he was just the angry black guy. In this one... next to Superman, I'd say he was the most key to their victory.

As far as this second date:

It looks way better. There's a lil more story added. It's dark and depressing, but that's just how DC and Snyder roll.. This is probably why we don't see Shazam; he's way too peppy for the group.

Seriously wowed by the effects. I couldn't sit through 4 hours straight, but when I broke it up, I really enjoyed it!

However, it's still the same movie. You know?? The same failings are there from the first. It makes me think more of what could have been.

What if they had treated Ray Fisher better (look it up, if you don't know)?

What if they had taken their time to build up to this movie like Marvel did with The Avengers?

What if Batman and The Joker didn’t go through a identity crisis every few years?

Amy Adams is in this movie! She's one of the best actors around, today! I keep forgetting that she's in it, because they wasted her talents.

It's like our date got buff, dressed up this time, took us out for a nicer LONGER time, but they still rushed and were handsy, they were still a lil too dark

(dating tips, kids: save your stories about your messed up childhoods for at least date #3), and they were still wearing that damned sauerkraut cologne.

Once again, good stuff, when not compared to a gourmet meal. More like a fancy McDonalds, serving us a quarter pound STEAK with cheese.

Grade: B-

9 notes · View notes

mariahthelioness29 · 4 years

Text

Differences

pairing: Sam x Bucky

words: 3.5k (how did I write this ?, I don’t know)

Warning; pinning, fluff, a smidge of smut, cursing (a little), alcohol consumption and 2 idiots in love, slow burn

A look of Sam and Bucky in New Orleans, A party, and maybe feelings being resolved. A conclusion (I guess) of No Plan and Going Back.

I was listening to Differences by Ginuwine and the tracks that follow on Youtube and I got inspired.

A special THANK YOU to @avintagekiss24 and @siancore. Your comments, suggestions are gold to me. I am so grateful.

@siancore @xbuchananbarnes @avintagekiss24 @helahades @euh-say-what-now @here-for-your-bullshit @rasberrylemon @blackmissfrizzle @sapphirescrolls @babiiface95 @27dis @captainsamwlsn

Face claim for new characters:

Nelsan Ellis- Lafayette

Rutina Wesley-Leyla

Miroslava Morales-Miriam

Mood board for the party:

The humidity and the temperature were unbearable. Today is his no-shirt- shorts on-day. It is so hot, that his insecurities about his scars are taking a day off.

It is so peaceful, he does not want to think about the mission they just had. Missions are always blocked from his mind. They are a heat in the moment thing. He thanks his mind for blocking them, otherwise he will be a nervous wreck.

This heat reminds him of Wakanda. That paradise on earth. He goes through his bag and takes a colorful notebook with patterns. His photo album.

Looking at the polaroid pictures of him in Wakanda. Shuri had some vintage items. She loves polaroid’s pictures so she gifted him a Polaroid camera.

One of him and Shuri in the lab.

One of him with the village kids and the goats.

G’cobisa, Tabo, Tinashe, Buhle, Khanyiswa, Kholiwe, M’tobheli, Anathi, Bonghani, Fikile Gugulethu. Those children are angels on Earth. Bucky ‘s not religious but whoever is up there, be it Bast or Jesus, he will ask them this:

“Please take care of those children, the people of Wakanda, allow them to be happy and let nothing bad happen to them”

Sam, I wish I had the courage to tell you how I feel, I really love you and I want you so bad, he thought while remembering last night's dream. He bites his lip and sighs.

Last night dream and his early-morning wood were: Sam giving him a show, having the best sex ever all while he takes pictures of him with the polaroid. Him going down on Sam, while Sam records him.

“FUUUUCK !!” Sam groaned.

“Keep goin’ like that, you’re so good at that, look at me baby boy”, he said out of breath in between moans, grabbing his hair with one hand. He looks up to him, teary eyed. Sam was recording him.

He shakes those thoughts away with a chill on his spine. He does not want to go to eat with a tent on his pants so he focuses on the other pictures.

One of the rivers and one of Birnin Zana. The Royal Palace. The market. Him eating at the market. Him drinking a gallon of milk cause his mouth was on fire due to the hot sauce on his food. That hot sauce is a torture device.

One of him in all white fur, when he was in Jabari Tribe land as Shuri and T’challa’s bodyguard.

When the days were like this pure sun and barely wind, he just bathed in the river for hours. He stayed under the trees and the kids playing with his hair. He was the children's favorite pastime. Asked him all types of questions. Used him as a biology example, for the older children, when they needed to take their biology exams about genetics. As a doll, the village children and teenagers were always experimenting on his hair. They quickly realized that his hair could not withstand some of their hair-dos. He looks at the picture of him with Bantu knots and the other with braids in rows. He guffawed with tears in his eyes.

He remembers the Bantu knots fiasco. How hard the kid’s moms needed to detangle his hair with all types of combs and products, because the children literally caked his hair so that the knots stayed intact. He stayed with the knots because it was refreshing not having his hair loose during that heat wave until wash time arrived. It became a nightmare. Their moms taught them that Bucky’s hair is not apt for African hairstyles. The kids learned their lesson and did hairstyles that were suitable for his hair.

He was looking through the pictures until he saw his old pictures of him in the 40s. Those pictures were always weird to see . He fixated on those pictures till they became a little blurry. He closes the album

He wanted the confidence of James Buchanan Barnes. The Barnes that would steal girl’s and guy’s breath away. The same Barnes that rocked Steve’s world after they left that bar but he knew he and Steve could never be. He chose Peggy. He does not blame him in the slightest. It was the best way. What they were was a crime back then. He and Steve could’ve end up in a psych ward or with sodomy and indecency charges and dishonorably discharged from the military. He probably would’ve settled with a woman he loved too. Living satisfied but within a lie. Hiding half of himself. Would that have been a better life than the Hydra ordeal he went through? Who knows?

One thing he is sure of is that he will be proud and loud to be Sam’s man. He will live his truth. He got a second chance so he will not waste it. Anyone who does not like it, can get fucked.

He went out of his room and went to the dining room.

“Morning”, he said.

“Morning”, Sam and Sarah answered in unison.

Sam and Sarah were busy in the kitchen.

Bucky inhales the various smells coming from the kitchen, his mouth waters.

“How did you sleep?”, Sam asked

“Like a baby”, Bucky answered him with a smile.

Sam looked at him impressed and responded: “that’s wonderful, nightmares are appearing less”.

“Yeah, they are appearing less'',Bucky answered trying not to wander to last night’s dream.“Hey guys, can I help with preparing the food?”, Bucky asked. He always wants to be of service.

“Buck, no offence, but you are a white man raised in the Depression era, I don’t trust you with the kitchen but you can set the table though”, Sam answered. Bucky rolled his eyes at that.

Sarah was pressing her lips together to stifle a laugh.

He lifted his hands in surrender and answered: “Alright, I set the table”.

Sam pointed where the kitchenware and plates were. Bucky began to set the table.

Sarah looked at Sam with wide eyes and they both looked at Bucky up and down discreetly. Bucky was shirtless and with shorts. His shorts hang low. His v-line was showing. His abs all out and that vibranium arm shining a little.

Breakfast was a quiet thing, with Bucky’s story here and there about Depression era food and how they used to boil everything. Sam & Sarah gagged at the thought of boiling everything. Bucky laughed at them.

Bucky offered to wash the dishes. After washing the dishes, Bucky said he was going to meditate and do breathing exercises outside.

After they checked that Bucky was far enough that he could not hear their conversation.

Sarah exclaimed: “WHEW, CHILE!!”

“pipe the fuck down”, Sam whisper yelled. “He is a super soldier, he has enhanced hearing!”, Sam whispered with worry

“No wonder why you got the hots for him, shiiiiiiit if you don’t tap that ass, I will ‘cause HOT Damn,” Sarah answered in a lower voice. “He might be the first white man to get this work”.

Sam glared at her and frowned at her with a faux offence.

“Were you not with Ricardo, Ricardo was white?” Sam inquires

Sarah scoffs. “Boy Ricardo was Latino. I mean he white. But not WHITE, you know what I mean”.

Sam shoved her gently and said, “Not you, wanting my future man. Get your own shit why you riding mine”. They both snickered and had Cheshire cat grins.

“Hey, but seriously, when are you going to tell him how you feel?” Sarah asked softly, putting her hand on top of Sam’s.

Sam sucked in a breath and exhaled, dropping his head down. Sarah’s heart softens, looking at her brother.

“It is hard Sarah; I want to but what if he is repulsed by that. I know Steve and him used to be something. But there is the chance, he does not like Black guys for that. He is still a 40s guy, so I am weary.”, Sam answered. Sarah cocked her head and nodded in understanding.

“The guy was literally tortured and brainwashed for decades. He is now getting to live his second chance at a normal life. I don’t want to put more weight on him because I really, really like him a whole fucking lot.” Sam continued with a defeated tone.

“Sammy, wake your ass up, that man looks at your ugly ass mug like you hung the moon”, Sarah said with confidence. “He likes you too and a lot, just explore that feeling and let it be one step at the time”. Sarah offered. “You don’t have to marry his ass. Just give him support, like you are doing but extend that support more on the physical side of it. God knows when was the last time, you and that man were laid”. Sarah laughed and ran away from the kitchen before Sam pushed her.

Sam chuckled in disbelief at what Sarah said.

It could all be so simple, then why is it so difficult.

He has always had this predicament when it came to liking men. He is who he is. After years of hiding his sexuality in the military, it cost him to shake that state of being. He sighs and thinks of what getting with Bucky can mean to him as a man but also as Captain America.

Since the Accords fiasco, the Captain America mantle depends a whole lot about public perception.

He can hear Fox News, already. #handtheshieldback. That was a real hashtag and it could be revived this time by him being more openly Bi. Second, not only just being with a man, but THEE world’s deadliest ex-assassin and longest POW in US history. Bucky will get outed. Then Bucky will get dragged. Though Bucky has always said he doesn’t care about the views of the people, they can all get fucked (Bucky’s words). He saves lives and calls it a day.

As a man, he would be over the moon to have Bucky as his man, however he is still weary. Interracial relationships are hard. Imagine it now with a person from the Silent Generation, whew.

“Chile, I can hear the gears grinding from across the room”, Gideon disrupts his thoughts as he sits next to him on the couch.

“You thinking about the white boy, aren’t you?”, Gideon asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“UGHHH STOP IT”, Sam exclaimed, putting his hand on his face. “Where he at?”, Sam asked, scared that Bucky might hear.

“Chill, he outside with Sarah, Miriam and the kids”, Gideon responded. “You know what you need? A nice party with the fam and friends, some BBQ, some booze and music”.

“Hell no, I am in no party mood”, Sam responded exasperated while laying on the couch.

“Well too late, Sarah, Miriam and I have already made the list and we are going to go shopping, food, snacks and booze for normal folks”, Gideon responded with a Cheshire grin. “Don’t worry, I got our homeboy covered, aged Absinthe, special brewed Moonshine, Asgardian mead, y’ know, some liquid courage so that he can finally tell you how he feels and put you out of your misery”, Gideon said while rubbing his hands together.

Sam rolled his eyes and kicked Gideon. Gideon laughed at that.

Gideon stood up from the couch and went to the table, where there was a box on top. “I’m serious, I already went to the Asgardian shop for some Asgardian unleaded and some booze”. Gideon shows him the box with fancy bottles filled with an Amber liquid, fluorescent green liquid, and the other with a clear liquid.

“Asgardian shop? Asgardians in Nola?”, Sam questioned.

“Yeah, he met Aaliyah, married her, came to live here, and put an Asgardian liquor store, ain’t that some shit”, Gideon responded. Sam's eyes blinked in surprise at knowing Aaliyah is married, not only that but with an Asgardian. Aaliyah was Gideon’s high school sweetheart and Gideon’s heaviest heartbreak when they split because they went to different colleges.

“See? You are thinking too hard. If ol’ girl is married with literally an alien and they fine what about you with the metal armed white boy, ya’ll gonna be okay, ai’ght”, Gideon pats Sam’s shoulder with force.

Sam smiles at his brother, “you’re right, if he will not tell me how he feels, I will.”

“That’s what the fuck I’m talkin ’bout, my brother ain’t no punk”.

It turns out that Gideon was right. What he needed was a party.

He was greeting everyone; he was the life of the party. He was dapping everyone, hugging everyone.

Sam was feeling himself with his white tank top and yellow open up shirt with white shorts. Cuban cigar on his lips and Hennessey on his hand. He took the cigar off his lips and began to sing out loud;” It’s getting’ hot in here (So hot) so take off all your clothes, I am getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off”. He was dancing with a woman in a suggestive manner. The woman was grinding her ass against his crotch to the rhythm of the music. They were gyrating their hips in sync with each other and the music. Sam turned the woman around and talked to her ear. He was smiling. They look at each other briefly. Bucky lifts his drink up at him with a forced smile. Sam and Leyla decided to dance like this, since he saw Bucky getting cozy with Lafayette after playing domino, when Bucky won a couple of times. Needless to say, Sam’s mood sours after seeing that so he asks Leyla to dance with him to make Bucky jealous, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Bucky was wearing tight black jeans and a blue Henley, hair in a half up and half down hair do, feeling uneasy to say the least, nursing a shot of aged absinthe.

He was feeling a myriad of emotions. He did not know if he wanted to be the girl so he can cop a feel of Sam or be Sam so that he can cop a feel of a woman. Either way it has been so long since he felt someone’s skin against his. He thinks about having Sam that close in the privacy of his room. Moving into him like he is moving with that woman. There was a feeling eating him piece by piece. If it was a man, he'd definitely use his Winter Soldier face to scare him off. He realizes it is jealousy, he is jealous. He just stares at the tree next to them till it blurs along with the image of Sam and the woman he is dancing with. He feels his heart tight against his chest.

“You think is working?”, Sam whispered to Leyla, his high school friend

“Oh, yes, it is, the man a wreck, he was boring holes into us”, Leyla laughed and put her arms around his neck. “Believe me, you will have him in your hand, he needs to get a preview of what he is missing, otherwise he will never tell you how he feels.’ Leyla turned around and put her hands on his knees. They were about to give Bucky a heart attack with the next song.

Bucky got up and went to the table with all the liquor, wanting more absinthe.

He saw everybody rushed to the center of the makeshift dance space, as violins began to play. Bucky was confused and he concluded that the song must be quite popular.

Gideon was the DJ, he screamed: “Cash Money Records, taking over for the 99 and the 2000!!!”

Everyone either cheered or repeated that sentence in response, Bucky turned to see Sam and his eyes could not believe what he was seeing.

The woman was bent over wiggling her ass rapidly against Sam to the beat of the music. Sarah was doing the same to a guy.

He did not understand the dance or the music. He asks the Kimoyo beads to tell him what this music and this dancing are about. The beads started explaining what twerking was: “ twerking is a type of dance that came out of the bounce music scene of New Orleans. It originated in the 1980s. Individually-performed, chiefly but not exclusively by women, dancers move by throwing or thrusting their hips back or shaking their buttocks, often in a low squatting stance. Twerking is part of a larger set of characteristic moves that were unique to the New Orleans style of hip-hop known as "bounce". This dance move has roots in African culture and has spread to all scenes of hip-hop, current popular music and in Latin American music such as reggaetón. This is what you are seeing and hearing, Bucky”.

“God, I am such an old man”, he contemplated in defeat.

He could never be this jovial, he feels like he would hold Sam down. In order to drown his jealousy, he began to drink that Asgardian mead, mixed with the absinthe like it was water.

He was feeling a little better with the alcohol in his system. It is refreshing to have the buzz of alcohol in him for the first time in 70 years.

He started to sway to the rhythm of the music too not knowing how to dance but he likes the music. The violins and piano remind him a little of the music back then.

“I like this song”, “What is the name of the song and the genre?” he said to the beads.

“You don’t need to ask the beads”, he hears Sam’s voice.

Bucky stopped the bead’s explanation. Bucky chuckled at the sound of Sam’s voice and turned around.

“Who was I supposed to ask? You practically ditched me after dominos and spades” Bucky responded.

“Well, you could’ve asked your lil’ new friend Lafayette”. Where he at by the way?” Sam asked with a taunting tone looking around.

“You were pretty boo’d up with him”, Sam responded with a mean glint in his eyes.

Bucky smirked at him and said; “Ditch me too after I told him, I was interested in someone else”, looking at him while drinking the special brewed Moonshine.

“But turns out the person I like has someone to be “cozy “with, I guess.” Bucky said, while getting into Sam’s space and tracing his finger on Sam's shirt. “He even got a dance on him called ``twerk'', by the way I had to ask the beads what that was.”, Bucky responded a little hurt.

Sam’s breath hitched, feeling Bucky that close.

“So, I think, I need to mingle more, see you around Sam”, Bucky said while stepping out of Sam's space.

He needs to act, and fast.

Before Bucky could go, Sam grabbed Bucky’s forearm harshly and brought Bucky up to him. They look at each other with defiance for what seem ages. He then tilted his head and his lips were ghosting over Bucky.

You make the first move, I won’t, Bucky thought with Sam’s lips ghosting over his.

Sam gives him a bruising kiss.

Bucky was not prepared for that; he found support by putting his hands on his forearms. He matched Sam’s pace and brought Sam closer.

He feels so good, his lips feel so nice, Bucky thought while kissing Sam with force, all tongue.

After that kiss, they both needed to take a breath. He can see Sam not looking at him.

“Hey, let’s not”, Bucky said sternly while tilting Sam’s face up with delicacy. “If you want to regret something do it in the morning, not tonight, please”. Bucky whispered.

“I regret nothing”, Sam stated.

“That’s the spirit”, Bucky said, caressing Sam’s face, smiling and blushing.

“Ayee, this is one of my favorites, dance with me”, Sam said, taking Bucky’s hand in his and began walking with him to the dance space.

They saw Gideon and his wife, Miriam kissing and dancing to the song. Sarah and the guy she was twerking on earlier, also swayed with the song.

The song was pretty, light. They did not need to talk cause the song was doing all the talking.

“My whole life has changed

Since you came in, I knew back then

You were that special one

I'm so in love, so deep in love

You made my life complete

You are so sweet, no one competes

Glad you came into my life

You blind me with your love

With you I have no sight”, boomed through to speakers.

Sam and Bucky swayed to the rhythm, pressed against each other, Sam’s head resting against Bucky’s shoulder, both of their eyes closed savoring the moment.

They were surrounded by other couples dancing.

But no one else matters, only them exist.

Bucky’s eyes open for a moment. He saw Leyla and Lafayette lifting their glasses at him and smiling, nodding in support, then clicking their glasses together. He smiles at them back and closes his eyes continuing to savor the moment.

“They have a lot to go through if they want a relationship, but he will learn and go through it cause it is not only about him, it is about Sam and him.” Bucky contemplated. That does not matter right now, he feels fulfilled, at peace hugging Sam like this.

Sam is still weary about how they can bond. They are such different people with different experiences, but that does not matter right now. He feels loved and protected with the way Bucky’s warmth is enveloping him.

#sambucky #Differences #milliwritesnowiguess #conclusionmaybe?

28 notes · View notes

laminy · 4 years

Text

I’m sure I’m going to regret posting this, but it’s been on my mind, and if I don’t at least type it out, it’s going to stay there, driving me up the wall, and the last thing my brain needs right now is this rattling around in it. please ignore or scroll by if you are triggered by talks of depression, suicide, or just general sad stuff.

(I am also aware that this is a writing sideblog but when your writing is as important to your mental health as mine is, posting it here seemed more appropriate than on my main.)

September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day.

one day, this story will be done. there will be no more parts to publish, nothing else to write. I will answer my last ask, and then turn them off. everything will stay up, here and on AO3, because I know that people enjoy what I write, and some stories are important to people. I wouldn’t want to get rid of anything that I’d put so much work and thought into. since for the most part, these stories are all I have.

I have struggled with mental health for my entire life. I’ve had anxiety since I was a young child, and been depressed since at least middle school, though insecurities about my body, my family, my friendships, my life, my talents had all started by the time I was ten.

I’ve been happy at times, it would be a lie to say that I haven’t. I’ve had beautiful friendships, traveled to wonderful places, eaten delicious food. I’ve seen my favourite musicians in concert, seen my favourite actors on stage.

I’ve also wanted to die almost every day for the last 3+ years. for reasons that would be too mundane to explain, because someone who is mentally healthy would have bounced back from what happened in May/June 2017, I haven’t been a happy person since then. and since then, it’s never be a question of if I would kill myself, but when. I truly have no retirement plan, no idea of what life will look like as an old woman. most days, I’m surprised I made it to 30; the idea of making it to 35 or 40 sounds like a damn near impossibility. I can no longer conceive of myself dying from anything other than my own hand.

so for 3+ years, my life has just been trying to find things that can hold my attention long enough to get me to the next thing. I have two Stranger Things tattoos because at the time, literally the only reason I didn’t kill myself in the summer of 2017 is that I wanted to see the second season of Stranger Things, so, thanks Steve Harrington (and I loved season two, but gosh, season three was a disappointment, wasn’t it).

in this time, I moved to a new city, in a new province. I did it because I needed a job, but in doing so, I had to leave my best friends behind. I was alone when I came here, and I’m still alone. I have one friend who lives here, but in the last few years, our lives have diverged quite drastically to the point that we don’t really fit together anymore. I love her, and love to see her, but we have almost nothing in common now. all my other friends are people that I went to school or university with, or met here on tumblr, and who all live hundreds or thousands of kilometres away. in short, I feel totally empty and wholly alone.

just in case you were wondering, I lost the job that I moved here for. so. kind of a waste. though, it was during my months of unemployment that I started to write ITBASM.

(it was also during my months of unemployment that I started to obsessively watch Bohemian Rhapsody in theatres, because I had the time, and I was sad, and it comforted me like a warm blanket)

so, I didn’t kill myself because I had to see Rami win his Oscar. then I didn’t kill myself because I was looking forward to a couple weeks in the summer of 2019, which was probably the greatest few days of my life (during which I saw Queen, and for a couple hours I felt like I actually belonged somewhere). then it was a live episode of one of my favourite podcasts. since then, there hasn’t really been a lot of reasons to keep going. so basically, I had to come up with my own, and for now, that’s writing. because believe me when I say, my job, my living situation, my family, my finances, my body, my brain, everything else makes me want to claw my wrists out.

before anybody asks, yes, I’m in counselling. I’ve gone every week, give or take a couple missed sessions when lockdown started or I couldn’t get out of work. and it doesn’t help. why? almost certainly because when you have no hope, and have accepted the inevitability of your death, and your failure, it’s really hard to take any of the advice that they give you. and it’s also really hard to open up. turns out, being “therapy resistant” is a thing. it’s me. every week, she asks how I am, I say fine, we talk about things that came up that week, and we never go any deeper because I can’t and I won’t. I have well and truly given up. I’m currently doing my therapy homework for the week, which is: how fulfilled are you in life right now? and what are the steps you can take to get there?

pretty sure we gave up on fulfilled a long time ago.

which brings me back to the beginning.

tomorrow is World Suicide Prevention Day. I haven’t seen any posts about it, or any hashtags trending. and you know, that’s probably fair. 2020 has kind of sucked in a lot of ways, people are distracted, and there are only so many causes people can focus on.

but I’ve just been trying to use my words and my characters and this universe to prevent my own suicide for awhile now. if I hadn’t made the decision to keep writing and writing after the original thirty-nine chapters, who knows where I’d be now. but one day, this story will be done. that will be it, and it may be it entirely.

#i will probably delete this later #because i hate submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known #and it's just also really personal and dumb so #who writes shit like this on their writing blog?#depressed people that's who #tw mental health #tw suicide #world suicide prevention day #tw depression

19 notes · View notes

theculturedmarxist · 3 years

Link

Bryan Fogel’s “The Dissident” was too hot to handle.

The documentary about the murder of Jamal Khashoggi, the journalist and political activist who was allegedly killed in 2018 on the orders of the Saudi Royal Family, was one of the hottest films at last year’s Sundance. It had glowing reviews, a ripped from the headlines subject, and a big-name director in Fogel, fresh off the Oscar-winning “Icarus,” a penetrating look at Russian doping that got the country banned from the Olympics.

And yet, Netflix, which had previously released “Icarus,” and other streaming services such as Apple and Amazon steered clear of “The Dissident.” Without any interested buyers, the film languished until last fall. That’s when Briarcliff Entertainment, an obscure distributor run by former Open Road CEO Tom Ortenberg, announced it would release the movie on-demand.

Fogel thinks the subject matter was too explosive for bigger companies, which have financial ties to Saudi Arabia or are looking to access the country’s massive population of well-to-do consumers. Using interviews with Khashoggi’s fiancee Hatice Cengiz, as well as friends and fellow activists, Fogel creates a damning portrait of Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman’s apparent involvement in brutally silencing the writer and thinker and the country’s crackdown on free speech. Thanks to previously unreleased audio recordings, “The Dissident” draws a direct line between Khashoggi’s assassination at the Saudi embassy in Turkey and the Saudi government’s anger over his outspoken criticism of the country’s human rights abuses and mismanagement.

“The Dissident” is currently available on-demand, but its rather muted release isn’t the way Fogel had dreamed of provoking a larger conversation around Khashoggi’s murder. He spoke to Variety about the difficulty of making “The Dissident” and then getting it seen and why he thinks his new movie had the major streamers running scared.

Why did you want to make “The Dissident”?

After the success of “Icarus,” I felt a great burden and social responsibility to make a worthy follow-up. I was looking for a story regarding human rights, regarding freedom of speech, freedom of press, journalism. I also wanted a story that had real world implications that could create real world change through social action or political action.

As the investigation into the murder of Jamal unfolded, my ears perked up and I immediately started reading more about this man. I hadn’t heard of him, but I found out how trusted and regarded he was as a voice on the Middle East. He was also being presented in many media circles as a terrorist sympathizer or member of the Muslim Brotherhood or a friend of Bin Laden. This was not true. He was a moderate, who was fighting for free speech for his country and believed women should have rights. He believed Mohammed Bin Salman’s policies were putting the country on the wrong direction.

Was it difficult to get his friends and fiancee and family to speak to you?

It was very very difficult. This is where the accolades and recognition of “Icarus” and the Academy Award really changed the conversation. In those weeks following his death every journalist was after Hatice. As I approached her and other people, they were able to see my prior work. Hatice invited me about a month after his murder to come and meet with her in Istanbul. I didn’t bring a film crew. I spent the next five weeks there just building trust. It was a harrowing time in her life and I just kept explaining that I was not there for a day or a week or a month. I told her: if we do this, we’re going to go on this journey together. I promised that if she let me into her life, I was going to protect Jamal.

At the Sundance premiere, you challenged distributors to “…not be fearful and give this the global release that this deserves.” How did that turn out?

[Netflix CEO] Reed Hastings was there that day and so was Hillary Clinton. We had a standing ovation. People were wiping tears from their eyes as Hatice took the stage. It was the same scene at each one of our screenings. We were blessed with incredible reviews from all of the trades. In any normal circumstance, you’d think of course this film is going to be acquired and distributed. And yet not only was it not acquired and distributed, there was universal silence. Not a single offer. Not for one dollar or not 12 million dollars, which was what was paid for another documentary title at the festival. Nothing. It was literally as if nobody knew me. It was that startling and that shocking.

Six months later Tom Ortenberg and Briarcliff Entertainment stepped forward and said, hey we want to distribute this film. That’s wonderful. People will be able to rent this film on-demand. But what I wanted was for this film to be streaming into 200 million households around the world. I wanted people to have easy access to it. Instead we pieced together global distribution here and there.

Will this have a chilling effect on movies that want to tackle these kinds of controversial subjects?

This is a depressing and eye-opening moment that any filmmaker that wishes to tell a story like this needs to pay attention to. These global media conglomerates are aiding and abetting and silencing films that take on subject matter like this despite the fact their audiences want content like this. I was told that “Icarus” has had somewhere in the neighborhood of 700 million views. I don’t know if that’s accurate, but I know it was substantial. The decision not to acquire “The Dissident” had nothing to do with its critical reviews, had nothing to do with a global audience’s appetite to watch a docu-thriller, but had everything to do with business interests and politics and, who knows, perhaps pressure from the Saudi government. Netflix did remove Hasan Minhaj’s episode of “Patriot Act” [at the Saudi government’s request] in 2019 and defended that decision by saying, “we’re not a truth to power company. We’re an entertainment company.” It has been a struggle to get this film into the world and to shine a light on the human rights abuses that are happening in that kingdom. These companies, that have chosen not to distribute this film, in my opinion, are complicit.

Have you had conversations with these companies about why they didn’t want to release “The Dissident”? If so what has been their response?

It has been to not respond.

Is this about money? Are they wary of angering the Saudi Royal Family because they have money from Saudi Arabia or want to access their market?

My guess is both. Decisions are being made that it’s better to keep our doors open to Saudi business and Saudi money than it is to do anything to anger the kingdom. Netflix released a statement regarding Black Lives Matter that is in direct contrast to their statement regarding Hasan Minahaj. One stands behind truth to power and the other says we’re not a truth to power company, so it appears they are a truth to power company when it is convenient. But when their business doesn’t align with that or it might impact their subscriber growth, they’re not. The same can be said for all the streaming companies. In the film, there’s Jeff Bezos on the stage with Hatice. Jamal worked for Jeff Bezos [at the Washington Post, which Bezos owns]. So the same can be said of Amazon. I don’t want to point a finger at anyone because it’s all of them. This is a situation where business, subscriber growth, investment was more important than human rights. There’s got to be greater accountability. Not just on a business level, but on a political level. Trump vetoed the desire of both the House and the Senate to hold Saudi Arabia accountable for this crime. He continued to sell them weapons. He’s trying to get the Justice Department to grant Mohammed Bin Salman immunity from prosecution.

Would you still work for Netflix or the other streamers who declined to release “The Dissident”?

Listen, this is my career. This is my work. I’m sure that I will have other projects that might not take on subject matter like this and are not at odds with their business interests. When those projects come along, I will be glad to work with any of these companies. Look, I love Netflix. I really, really do. I’m so grateful to them because without Netflix, “Icarus” would not have become what it became. I’m not insulted by this. I’m not personally offended. I don’t view anything that is happening as personal. I just view it as business. I can understand it on a business level. I don’t agree with it, but I get it. I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.

What message do you want viewers will take away from the film?

There’s a hashtag #JusticeForJamal and the question has to become what does justice mean? We know that Mohammed Bin Salman will not stand trial for this murder. We know that the henchmen he sent are unlikely to truly stand trial. We have to look to the future. So what I hope people will take from the film is knowledge, because knowledge is power. Just like “Icarus” or “Blackfish” or “The Cove,” I hope this film has the ability to change hearts and minds. As more and more people come to “The Dissident,” I hope there’s a call to action. I hope that takes place on social media or through writing letters to congressmen or senators. The first thing I hope is people will spread the word. The second thing is I hope they will use the power of free speech that we have in this country and are so blessed to have to change the narrative. The Arab Spring happened because of Twitter, the Black Lives Matter and #MeToo movements took hold because of social media. We’ve seen that through combined action, change can come.

Disclosure: SRMG, a Saudi publishing and media company which is publicly traded, remains a minority investor in PMC, Variety’s parent company.

#netflix #saudi arabia #mohammed bin salman #jeff bezos #the dissident #sundance #jamal kashoggi #bryan fogel #cinema #film #censorship

4 notes · View notes

deddie-eddie · 4 years

Text

Hypocrisy in fandom.

TW // suicide, suicide baiting, harassment

Yesterday, I nearly killed myself.

I was in the midst of a breakdown, I was shaking so hard I couldnt breathe, and if I wasn't I likely would have been able to open the pill bottle and I likely would have gone through with it.

I had to be talked down via phone call while I was on a camping trip with my family.

But why?

Two days ago, I did something awful. I found a "pedo struggling" account, run by an anti, who was posting screenshots of me and my friends, and called them out.

Little did I know, this would be the start of something horrible.

It started out fine. I made a couple jokes, laughed along at other proshippers in the comments, and it was all fine.

Then, the account posted a vague tweet. "They won't stop." I thought this was funny, so I poked more fun at them. Watched them squirm as they replied to my friends in shaky, broken English. I called it crytyping. I mocked them for it. I assumed I knew what I was talking about and instead of realizing that they were having a breakdown, I assumed that they were being performative and made some horrid accusations in a long callout thread about them. I posted screenshots of them as they replied with, what I thought was, performative nonsense. I privately mocked them. To summarize, I did something entirely, unarguably, factually awful. I made assumptions I had no right to make and acted on them in the worst way.

Then I went to bed.

When I woke up, I had hundreds of notifications. Spammed messages of "deactivate," "how could you do something like this," and a barrage of fancams.

It had come out that the person I was mocking was having a genuine panic attack, and that I had mocked them in a time of immense struggle and pain. I had no right to mock them in the first place, but now that it was genuine, my actions were amplified.

I finally took more than two seconds to think about what I'd done, and realized I was a huge, giant, absolutely massive asshole. I deleted the thread, released a long apology, and tried to take every comment and all my criticism in stride. I was still getting a lot of hate. That was understandable. I knew I didnt deserve to be forgiven yet. I let it be. I didnt tweet anything else for fear of it seeming like I wasnt taking this horrible situation seriously. I sincerely, honestly replied to people asking me why, how, and what I thought I was doing. They had every right to know. Still, the cries of "deactivate" rolled in. I knew I deserved them.

Then, it got worse.

I got a comment. I checked it.

"I dont usually say this but ummm... you should kys."

My heart raced. It had been a while since someone had told me to kill myself. I knew I had fucked up but I didnt realize just how hard, if people were really telling me to kill myself. But i brushed it off. It was one comment. I deserved it.

But it kept. Coming.

More people. "Deactivate," "kill yourself," "you're a freak." All day. Every minute I'd have a new notif, and every moment a new threat. "You'll be alone forever." "I hope you rot alone." I knew I had to take it because I had inadvertently sent people to harass that person. I didnt deserve to be forgiven. I still dont.

People watched my follower count drop. So did I. I lost mutuals I had interacted with for months. I lost people who said that they would always be there for me. I lost people who used to call me their best friend.

I had no one ask me for my side. No one that i was close to, anyway. None of the tens of people who told me that they cared about me, that they loved me, that theyd always be there for me. Not a single one of them was there to ask me. They all read the same callout post, and came to the same conclusion. That I was a horrible, unforgivable person. And I dont blame them for that. Sometimes I think I am too.

Then they kept going even more. More hate. More callout posts, except now people were making things up. They were lying and I couldnt do anything about it because I was in the wrong and not to be redeemed. Old friends took the sides of people who genuinely suggested that I die or kill myself, and people who said they loved me were handing over screenshots to these people in hopes that they wouldnt get thrown under the bus.

They took old things that I said and did and exaggerated them, posted old DMs out of context, and when they couldnt manipulate my words they just didnt provide evidence at all. They had that power. They had the power to lie about me and I had given it to them.

More people joined in. There was a hashtag spread of me. #staymadeddie on twitter. Look it up if you think I'm lying. People tried to get this trending.

After over a day and a half of NOTHING but constant harassment, I started to think I should take their advice. If I was dead, I'd finally be quiet, and theyd get what they wanted. If I was dead, they wouldnt yell at me anymore. They wouldnt harass me. I would be free.

They managed to make me feel like this in a day and a half.

I had a public breakdown. I screamed over the internet, phone held in shaking hands as I tried not to sob in earshot of my family. I frantically pleaded to what little I had left that they stop. I begged to know what they wanted from me. I asked if they really wanted me to die. I begged them to leave me alone. I threw my phone at my bed, ran to the med cabinet, and grabbed a bottle of pills. If I hadn't been shaking so hard, I'd have opened it. If I had opened it, I dont like to think about what I might have done. I was flooded with comments telling me to get help. Close friends begged me not to do what I wanted so badly to. They dmed me left and right, but i ignored it. I felt numb. Everything had been hurting so much that when presented with death felt almost better. Obviously that was a ludicrous thought. It was a day and a half. I was being rash. But I didnt care. I couldnt take it anymore. I'm 15, I have severe anxiety and depression. When overwhelmed, my impulsive thoughts and actions take over.

A friend called me and had to talk me down over phone call while I was camping with my family. It was successful, of course, but the rest of the day I was plagued with a deep depression that left me feeling hollow and worthless. I still cant keep my thoughts away from it. I think about all the people I've lost. All the people who, in their eyes, I'm dead to. All the people who swore they'd be with me, but when push came to shove they couldnt even spare me a glance.

My crime was harassing a minor. I made assumptions I had no right to make and publicly blasted someone for having a panic attack. In no way was that okay and in no way am I entitled to be forgiven. However, I deleted the post. I released an apology. I took criticism as best I could, without blaming my actions on anything or anyone but myself. I did what they always tell you to do when you fuck up.

But it didnt work.

I *was* genuinely sorry.

I *did* recognize my mistake

I *tried* to make amends.

I *didn't* pass blame.

I fucked up. Hard. But no matter what I did no one would stop. I lost close friends. I lost a best friend. It almost seemed like I'd made it worse.

There is no moral. Because real life isnt black and white. I did an awful thing. These people did awful things too. There is more than one victim here. In people's quest to gain justice for me harassing a minor, they harassed a minor into near suicide and laughed at it.

Dont forget that behind EVERY account there is a real person. Be they adult or child, everyone will fuck up and even though in general we need to think before we post, like I clearly didnt, it is possible to learn from our actions and one negative one doesn't define a person.

I'll say this again.

To some people, people I trusted, people who said they cared about me, i am dead. They hate my guts. I'll never be redeemed. But I'm expected to improve myself with this knowledge. I'm supposed to take all the hate and never speak about the hate coming my way for fear of trying to victimize myself.

No. Fuck you.

I AM a victim. I was harassed as much as they were, and even though I threw the first stone, I never told anyone to die. I never lied about anyone. I didnt cancel them. I learned my mistake and apologized, but I KNOW that NO ONE will EVER be expected to apologize for what they did to me.

What I did was horrible. I am not entitled to forgiveness. I will repeat that a hundred times. But to beat me down until I'm nearly dead, to call me a freak and a pedo and a disgusting person, to tell me to kill myself, then laugh when I call myself a victim, is disgusting.

I DON'T deserve this, and I'm tired of having to pretend like I do.

By all means. Criticize me. Make jokes. Be harsh. But do NOT tell me to kill myself over a lack of forethought, and then have the guts to call yourself a "protector of kids." You're not.

You're only out to protect your friends, and the people who agree with you, other people's lives be damned. I dont matter to you. And you'll never admit that you hurt me.

#cancelled #tw suicide #tw suicide baiting #tw harassment

5 notes · View notes