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trashogram · 3 years

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Ryuk/Reader 6: Murder Is a Hell of a Drug

Warnings: Murder mentions, mental health issues, a bit of Kira bashing (I’m sorry) and some OOCness probably.

Tagging: @aescela, @spookyghoullover, and @slager1349

Let me know if you do or don’t want to be tagged.

____

“Do you like the rain, Ryuk?”

It wasn’t often that you caught Ryuk in the middle of thinking, but as he turned toward you and you caught sight of his peculiar eyes coming back into focus, you realized you’d done just that.

The shinigami looked at you for a long moment, and you wondered what had changed. Ryuk was always watching. His purpose was largely to observe the world for lives to end, and you knew as much after being connected to him for so long. Even so, you had noticed a difference in the way he looked at you, specifically.

He stared at you in a way you couldn’t explain, though it affected you greatly. Stares that shone with intelligence, scrutiny… possessiveness. The kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and that made you very aware of the heat of your own blood circulating beneath your skin.

“I do.” You couldn’t wait for an answer. “Everything gets a little quieter when it rains.”

Leaning against the kitchen countertop, mindful of the sink that you’d just emptied, you looked out of the tiny window into the dreary world outside. There wasn’t much to see, as everything was muddled dark and grey, but raindrops pebbled on the window panes for you to follow with your eyes.

You inhaled with a little effort, taking time to fill your lungs as though you were finally able to breathe upon having something heavy lifted off your shoulders. “Makes me miss home, though.”

You could feel as well as hear the shift when Ryuk perked up. “Home?”

“Yeah. Well, where I grew up at least.” You replied. “We didn’t live in the city, and there were woods behind the house.”

Before you could prepare yourself mentally, you felt a solid weight against your back. Emaciated as he looked, Ryuk’s presence was substantial, and he could be incredibly stealthy if he so desired. Sometimes it made you nervous, but you took advantage of it then and leaned back, pulling gangly arms to wrap around you (in spite of Ryuk’s latent stinginess). Your head rested at the lower end of where Ryuk’s ribs were, and you could feel them faintly through his clothes.

And his skin. You reminded yourself that he had skin beneath the black leather. It was grey, too firm and unnaturally cold - or so you imagined.

(You really needed to stop thinking about Ryuk without his clothes on. It was becoming a habit.)

“It could be so quiet that you could hear the wind through the trees.” You shivered involuntarily, and were held tighter for it.

(It didn’t help your offending habit that you felt more content in the arms of this creature than you had in the last decade of your life.)

“You don’t talk about when you were a kid much.” The intonation in Ryuk’s voice was curious, but you moreso felt the way it reverberated through him against your spine.

You shrugged. “I don’t like to think about it, honestly.”

Thinking about it at that moment was merely part of the chain reaction that came after you’d written down someone’s name. You cycled between forced indifference and a crushing sense of despair whenever you killed; it was a vicious way of thinking that you’d suffered from since childhood. One where you always failed to be what your family needed you to be.

You supposed your behavior was pitiful with respect to anyone else who’d come across a death note. Or warlords and kings that could command thousands to murder, not giving it a second thought because they didn’t have to be the one taking another’s life. It was melodramatic of you to fuss so, when all it took to kill somebody on your end was the stroke of a pen.

You were pitiful to Ryuk, certainly. This was what he lived for, and another little part of you feared that you weren’t putting in enough effort to make him stay.

“Why?”

You were pulled from your train of thought and while annoyed, you couldn’t help but snort.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said morosely.

Ryuk shuffled around you, but didn’t make a move to let you go. Instead, he continued to surprise you. “Yeah it does.”

Ryuk was looking down at you when you made the effort to look up at him, craning your neck until you were pushing back into his chest. You blinked at him and the way his lower lip stuck out in something close to a pout.

“If it makes you sad, it matters.” He said guilelessly.

A lump formed in your throat, but before you could give in and cry - your heart seized with pure love for this spectre that was meant to bring misery and misfortune into your life - you smiled.

“I’ll tell you, but…” You cleared your throat, not quite able to produce anything other than a bubbling laugh. “Only if you tell me something in return.”

***

Ryuk lay with his overlong legs splayed well over the arm of the couch while he kept his head in your lap. He’d seen people like this, not just from the world below but in tv dramas and movies where the characters were meant to be in love.

He blamed opening his big mouth and enthralling you with the story of his previous stint on earth on this. And that you had happily begun to comb through his hair after he’d started.

Truth be told, Ryuk had been uncharacteristically reserved about when he’d been following Kira. Others of his kind had been interested, but he’d kept many of the details to himself as if his trip were personal. There was no rational reason for him to not tell, but Ryuk had once supposed in his isolation from the others that a bit of human behavior had rubbed off on him after all that time spent among them.

Regardless, Ryuk felt the need to tell you everything if you asked him to.

“He sounds like a rotten person.”

“Eh?” Ryuk made a noise of confusion.

As it turned out, you had certainly heard of Kira, mass murderer extraordinaire, although his time had come when you were still in grade school. Ryuk’s former charge had been many things while alive, but even in death he’d continued to score accolades. Your knowledge of Kira came from world history class. Before that, you’d been a child left unsupervised in front of a news broadcast with the number of human lives lost right before your eyes.

Scary. Incomprehensible.

“People talked about Kira when I was young.” You explained, “Mostly adults, teachers… they’d try to keep it from kids, but there were some that tried to bully you by threatening that Kira would kill your family.”

Ryuk laughed at that, but you could only manage a faint smile.

It was definitely silly, and yet.

You chewed at your lower lip. “When I was little, Kira was like an entity, or some kind of force. Like God. That’s how everyone made him out to be, but...”

“It was just a human all along.” You murmured, staring off into the middle-distance. “A kid.”

“Does that upset you?” Ryuk tilted his head, keen on the softness of your stomach against him. The use of the word ‘ordinary’ certainly threw him for a loop, as he hadn’t considered Kira (Light) to be ordinary compared to any other human.

Except for maybe you, yourself.

“I don’t know.” You replied, meeting his yellow eyes. “I feel a little hypocritical judging him when I just killed somebody an hour ago.”

Ryuk couldn’t see his own expression, but however he looked after that blunt bit of insightfulness had you burst into a fit of delirious giggles. It was contagious enough to join in with, though he was further thrown for a loop when you hunkered down and hugged him to you.

“Did you care about him?” You asked abruptly with your cheek resting against the shinigami’s forehead. “Do you miss him?”

“No.” Ryuk supplied truthfully. He said so rather quickly, but it was the scent of you and the feeling of your hair draped over his face that took up all his attention. “Not when the fun was over.”

You chuffed. “Now you’re having fun with me instead, right?”

The god took his opening, wrapping his arms around you of his own volition and pulled you down close, until he could feel your warm breath against his neck. His claws bit into the fabric of your shirt as he squeezed you to him.

“Right.”

There was no resistance from you, only a minor bit of maneuvering to stay comfortable in his embrace. Ryuk was internally thankful for it, as it eliminated that fear that he’d been under for days now, wherein he felt like you might disappear if he took his eyes off you even once. You were here, with him, and not some stupid human man that you barely knew, and he could relax for the first time in what felt like forever.

“And we’re gonna have even more fun together, right?”

“Right.” Ryuk grunted. “Er - !”

Ryuk froze at the sensation of your lips gliding over his clavicle, all while your body shifted until you were seated firmly over his pelvis.

When you rose to look down at him, your smirk embodied pure mischief. “Right.”

#Ryuk #ryuk x reader #death note #ahhhh

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years

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Hard Lives - Jason Todd x Reader

It was unfair. The whole team seemed to hold a grudge against Jason, for what reason you did not know. He was cocky and arrogant, but he was harmless, to the team at least. He needed more experience, or so Bruce said, but he wasn’t being given it. Dick wanted him and the rest of you teenagers to stay in the Titans base. But it was clear Jason didn’t want to.

You didn’t either, but you were obeying the adults to the best of your ability. If they wanted you to remain put, it was in your best interest to do so.

From the way they treated him he became distant, retreating into his own quarters and limiting his socialisation to talking to Gar.

Jason liked to train. He wanted to be the best Robin he could. You envied his skill, and here you currently were, watching him take out his frustrations in a stick battle with the green haired boy.

Bruce's adoptee appeared to be winning, throwing his stick to the back of Gar's legs so that he fell onto the mat. The vigilante smirked, offering the closest person he had to a friend a hand up.

Gar accepted, shaking it before coming towards the exit, where you were stationed.

"He's not that bad." He told you, suspicious of your hovering.

Perhaps he thought you wrote examining the flaws in Robin's agility, or noticing how he was almost too cocky and confident with his physical ability. But you weren't. If anything, you'd consider what you were doing as admiring.

"I'm not judging tiger." You smirked at the blush that crept upon the meta human's face, watching as he bowed his head and fled to the hallway.

You enjoyed having that affect upon people. You had learnt a lot from those who had raised you. Your mothers as they were known.

Green eyes darted to you. Jason had spotted you. "Don't you have a circus to run or some plants to grow?"

His voice hunted his irritance. He knew that you had been raised by Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, and he happened to hold it against you.

"Don't you have some blue eggs to squeeze out?" You retorted, coming away from the doorway and walking slowly towards Jason Todd.

"Funny." He simply remarked, not moving as you adventure closer. "What is the reason I am graced with your hilarious presence?"

The stick was still grasped in his left hand, since he had swapped it from his right when aiding Gar to his feet.

"Is it so hard to believe that I'm not here to taunt you or put you down like the others do?"

Hank was a criminal for it. He would purposely anger Jason, often ending in both a verbal and physical fight. You'd have thought that Hank, a grown man, would have more maturity than pick on a kid but apparently not.

Rachel made her occasional comments, whether that be away from his ears or not. Even if they were, Jason was well aware that she had a problem with him, even if it wasnt personal.

Kori never really had an opinion of him whatsoever. She had her own problems and it was visible that he was appreciative that she didn't consider him one of them.

Dawn kept her distance, but still stopped Hank from getting too into bullying the teenager. She was mature, not stupid. She was well aware of what Jason was capable of.

Dick always put him down. Telling him he could do and be better. It may have had the intention of being encouragement but it didn't work that way. It made his life even harder, reminding him that he wasn't the only Robin. Maybe he didn't want to be a copy of the Robin that Dick was. Just maybe he wanted to be his own version.

"Yes." He answered, tightening his grip whilst looking you in the eye the same way an enemy would.

It was stupid this whole ordeal was. Harley and Ivy stole you when you were a child from what you assumed to be a loving mother and hard working father. Yet Jason treated you as if it was your fault that you landed in their custody.

The others were nicer about the situation, possibly because you had distanced yourself from those villainous figures, and you were obedient. The same couldn't be said for Jason. He hated all of the rules that were set.

It was fine for him beforehand, when he had the full run of Wayne Manor. He could do whatever he wanted. But this was a base, a training facility that sheltered you all until you were ready to take on the real action.

"For all the time we have been here, I don't recall once doing such a thing." You smiled at him, but he only grimaced at the expression you put on your face. "Tell me if you do, refresh my memory if it's mistaken."

Jason couldn't hell himself, his eyes were trained to roll whenever you tried to be a smart ass. "Is it just a game to you? Why do you pretend to be so nice to me?"

It came blurting out of his mouth and he realised after. He had never voiced such a thing before.

"I don't pretend Jason." You told him, crossing your arms and looking down. "I've heard how hard your life was before Bruce, and I thought I'd cut you some slack. God knows that you need it."

He locked his lips nervously. He usually tried to present himself as proud and cocky, but it seemed that you had set off that switch in him.

"Do you maybe want to get out of here?" For all he knew, you would shove the offer back in his face or laugh at him for actually believing that you were joking all along. But you didn't. Instead you sent him a warm smile, one that you were clearly containing.

"And where do you have in mind?" You asked, knowing that you could trust him. You were a part of the same team, of course you could. If you couldn't have faith in one another, you couldn't have it in yourself.

...

Dick stopped Dawn when he saw her. This place, the past that came with it was a lot for them all to take in. But this was Titans Tower, a home for those who could do good with the bad in them.

"Have you seen Jason and (Y/N)?" Dawn wasnt the first person he had asked. He had yet to go around the rest of the tower, Gar had told him he saw you enter the training room just as he was leaving, but it was now empty.

"Maybe you should check the roof." She informed him. It wasnt meant to bring up their history, but when Dawn and Dick had been together, that had been their spot.

The sky was calming, even if it was under the influence of a storm. It was away from the world, and that was something they needed when being a hero.

He nodded at her, clambering up to where the roof was. And then he saw something he had never expected when he laid his feet on the very top surface.

You and Jason. It was a warm day, and the two of you barely noticed. The pair of you were curled into one another, with your eyes shut and your breathing calm.

This was how he wanted to see the two of you. Acting like teenagers instead of vigilantes in training.

The two of you had had such hard lives you deserved a break, and that was clearly what the two of you were having. Except you were sharing the time, seeing each other in a vulnerable state.

It made Dick feel old. He wasn't that old, but still, you kids were all growing up under their care, finding yourselves and each other.

...

You and Jason entered the dining space, together. Donna raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

Dick smirked at the Robin replacement, noticing how the boy kept stealing glances at you.

"I think you got a little burnt on the roof." Hank laughed at mostly Jason, which made him lower his head and shrink back into himself once again.

"He can't get burnt if he's already smoking hot." You defended him, leaning Hawk and everyone else at the table speechless.

Gar tried to stifle his laugh, but failed. For once he was happy to see you making someone other than him flustered.

And Jason was clearly flustered. His cheeks were glowing coral, and it wasn't due to the sun's beaming rays.

"You don't actually have a thing for him, do you?" Rachel attempted to joke, twirling her fork in her dominant hand.

"So what if I do?" You challenged her. The two of you got along, but you didn't appreciate anyone picking on Jason. It wasnt fair, they weren't even giving him a chance. "Perhaps you'd understand why if you stopped treating him like the shit on the bottom of your shoe."

"(Y/N)." Dick scolded you for your language but you ignored him.

You had let everyone's behaviour towards Jason slide for far too long. Today was the end of it, you'd ensure that. "No." You said to him. "None of you have even given him a chance, except for a few of us. You all look down at him or think of him as some rich spoilt boy. Maybe if you got to know him, or paid the littlest attention to detail, you would see how uncomfortable you all make him. He's human, like most of us in this room. He's done nothing but try and save our asses or follow Bruce's orders yet you still disregard him as the public does to us. Perhaps if you weren't such hypocrites, then you'd see the affect you are having on a teenage boy! "

There was nothing more you had to say, so you left, without eating or looking at Jason once more.

Dick tried to call you back, but instead you went to your room, where you hoped no one would bother you.

....

A fist lightly tapped your door. "I swear to god if it's you Rachel, I will got to the kitchen on a personal vendetta and grab that fork you were using and stab it into that stupid gem on your forehead."

But when you opened it you weren't met with Rachel. It was Jason.

"I hope you're not gonna stab me in the forehead." He sheepishly smiled, and you could only do the same. It was nice to hear him cracking the littlest of jokes.

You widened the entrance of your room, opening it so that he could enter. After he did, you shut it.

"Are you okay?" You were concerned. You knew the opinions of everyone in that room took a toll on him.

"I am after your explosive rant." He grabbed your hand. And then he frowned. "You must be hungry." He concluded.

"I'm fine." You assured him.

"Well we could always go out onto the streets and find some random food cart that serves overly expensive hot dogs." Jason still hadn't let go of your hand, and you didn't mind.

You let him see the warm smile again. "I'd like that." And you did.

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jackoshadows · 4 years

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Here’s the thing Jonsas don’t seem to get. Jon and Sansa don’t even seem to like each other let alone love each other in the books. Jonsas keep writing about how they understand that Jon and Arya love each other as siblings but they ship Jon and Sansa because they don’t love each other like that – while completely ignoring the reason for why they don’t love each other like that!

Jon and Sansa are each other’s least favorite sibling. That is book canon fact.

This happened because Sansa bullied and mocked Jon’s beloved little sister for being ugly and non-conformist. So much so that Jon had to put aside his own pain and reassure Arya that she was not a bastard because of her looks.

The very idea that Jon is in love with Sansa because she’s beautiful and traditionally feminine is repulsive and paints Jon as shallow and inconsiderate of the real pain that Arya experienced. Given how much Jon loves Arya this is just not possible and if you think it is, then you don’t understand Jon Snow as a character.

Sansa is Jon’s least favorite sibling because of Sansa’s dehumanization of Jon Snow and making sure he knew his place as a bastard born to a common mother.

Jon’s sexist disregard for ladies conforming to patriarchal ideals did not arise in a vacuum. It’s not that Jon dislikes Cat and Sansa because he dislikes conformist ladies. It’s the other way around – he dislikes conformist ladies because of his dislike for Cat and Sansa.

There is an actual Jonsa meta about how Jon’s friends are Satin and Sam and therefore this shows he loves Sansa.

So, for a man who supposedly doesn’t like the “ladylike, princess/damsel in distress type” in a woman, Jon Snow has a very strong will to protect Samwell and Satin, two boys considered soft and weak with a lot of feminine inclinations whose descriptions match Sansa’s bit by bit

🤣

Like I said missing the complete point of Jon Snow as a character. He befriends Sam and Satin because they were punished and looked down on by society based on their looks and abilities. Jon identifies with them as someone punished by society because of his birth. He thinks Sam and Satin should be judged based on their merit and actions rather than on their birth, looks or physicality.

On the other hand, he sees Sansa as the oppressor not the oppressed. He saw her as a privileged classist who bullied his little sister and treated him as less than. That’s why comparisons between Jon’s relationships with Sam, Satin and Sansa make no sense.

Also, I like how Jonsas are trying to find ways to excuse Jon’s sexism. Jon shows utter contempt for girls like Sansa here:

A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her

And yet here they are shipping their fave with a sexist dude. These are the same people who cry all the time – like all the fucking time – about how everyone hates Sansa only because she’s a girly girl. But here’s an actual character in the books who does hate girls like Sansa because they are girly girls and Jonsa stans are shipping him with Sansa. This more than anything show what two faced hypocrites Jonsa stans are.

Jon and Arya were a team against the way Cat and Sansa treated them. Standing up for each other and defending each other. Arya stands up for Jon against Sansa and Jon is there for Arya when she goes to him for solace and comfort. That’s where their pure, unconditional love for each other comes from. That’s why Arya KNOWS that Jon will want her back even if no one else does. That’s why Jon thinks that Arya’s home is with him.

So, the reason people don’t ship Jon and Sansa that way is because they don’t even like each other in the books, Sansa was a bully who treated Jon and Arya badly and Jon dislikes her for it, they never got along, they are not going to get along, Jon looks down on girls like Sansa with contempt, Jon thinks of Sansa like 5 times in his 42 POV chapters and does not give a damn about her or her situation, Sansa thinks of Jon like 3 times over 5 books and forgot about him, GRRM has invested everything in Jon and Arya’s relationship in the books and nothing, zero, zilch in Jon and Sansa’s.

You want to ship it as a crackship? Fine. But stop with the mind-numbingly idiotic metas to prove how much Jon loves Sansa because he loves Samwell Tarly and Satin and Sansa = Satin this means that Jon loves Sansa. The only thing this proves is that people on this hellsite have worms for brains.

#Jon Snow #Sansa Stark #anti Jonsa #Bloody hell I am tired of the Jonsa BS

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stina-is-a-punk-rocker · 3 years

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stephanie perkins: ‘anna and the french kiss’

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Then again, if you’ve read any YA book, ever, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.

I was going to go easy on this book; I really was. It’s really unfair how media aimed at a female demographic is seen as frivolous and vapid, and more often than not bashed and bullied when it comes to reviews. “People actually enjoy this crap?” ask the powers that be. “It’s worthless! Pulp! Dreamy-eyed nonsense only complete nimrods could ever like!”

And I take offense to that. There’s nothing wrong with liking romance or happy endings or stories about cute European boys. I was ecstatic when I stumbled across Anna and the French Kiss upon a chance trip to the bookstore. The cover was… meh (Century Gothic? Really? There were no other fonts?). But I’d heard nothing but praise about the book, and I was prepared to stay up all night and into the wee hours of the morning to finish it.

Admittedly, I was far from impressed upon the first reading. The characters were unlikable, the plot would’ve worked better for less shitty characters, honestly fuck these characters am I supposed to like them, fuck Anna, fuck Étienne, fuck Bridgette, fuck Toph, fuck Dave and Meredith and Amanda and Seany and every other stupid character in this stupid book.

The second time around, I expected to not hate it as much as I did when I first read it. It’s happened- I hated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda when I first read it, and when I read it again, all that red-hot anger simmered down into an overall dislike. I thought To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was trash at first, and then I read it again, and it got promoted to recyclable waste matter.

I found Anna and the French Kiss horrendous the first time I read it, and then I read it again, and… yeah, it’s still pretty awful.

Le Sommaire:

Anna Oliphant is a seventeen-year-old wannabe film critic who is #NotLikeOtherGirls – so she’s exactly like every other female YA lead. To her credit, she never explicitly says she’s special… everyone around her does.

She has a pretty meh life in Atlanta, Georgia with her mum and little bruv Sean- and then her dad decides to ship her off to France for her final year of high school. I’m not judging Anna for bawling her eyes out on her first day; I’m a huge mummy’s girl myself and I’d probably (definitely) do the same.

Meredith is Anna’s next-door neighbor, who does that thing which only happens in YA where she’s like “Oh, newbie? Let’s be friends!” (Or maybe it does happen irl and I tend to make a bad first impression which is why no one has ever approached me.)

Meredith’s friends are: Rashmi and Josh (who are a couple), and Étienne St. Clair. Guess which one is the love interest.

Étienne is cultured in that white person way where he’s half American, one quarter French and one quarter British. A true international.

But- *gasp*- American-British-French boy has a girlfriend, Ellie.

Anna has an absolutely gorgeous punk rocker (yum) boy with sideburns (yikes) back home named Christopher. Also, Christopher’s nickname is ‘Toph’ instead of ‘Chris’ because he too is #NotLikeOtherGirls. Anna tells us that nothing will happen between her and Étienne.

Anna is wrong.

Meredith has a crush on Étienne. So does the Regina George of the school, Amanda.

Étienne and Anna have some moments ™.

♫ Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but Anna ♫

I tear my hair out in frustration.

Several other white boys vie for Anna’s heart. Anna remains blissfully unaware (♫ that’s what makes you beautiful ♫). Étienne (who is still dating Ellie, mind you) is unreasonably agitated by this.

Étienne’s mum has cancer btw, which excuses all the shitty things he does, because he’s just a poor, misunderstood boy.

Ellie dresses up as a, quote unquote, ‘slutty nurse’ for Hallowe’en, though- so it’s perfectly okay to dislike her (even though, in the first interaction she had with Anna, where Ellie meets Anna and Étienne, after Étienne takes Anna to the movies, Ellie is perfectly sweet).

Anna, however, is NOT a slut. Amanda is, though. And Rashmi’s cold. And Meredith’s desperate. And Emily’s a slut, too. And her friend Bridgette from Atlanta is a traitor. Anna has an intense case of internalized misogyny.

Anna’s friend Bridgette from Atlanta is screwing Toph, and Anna throws a fit.

Étienne and Anna have some more moments ™.

A truly chaotic series of events befall Anna. She somehow winds up dating Dave (one from the harem of white boys who likes her) to spite Étienne, she gets into a fight with Amanda, more drama ensues, there’s a hint for a spinoff, Étienne and her kiss, Meredith sees and feels betrayed… several misunderstandings and more bullshit later, Étienne and Anna wind up together, because true love conquers all.

Mes Réflexions:

(If the French is off, blame Google Translate.)

Usually, it takes me half a page of my notebook to scribble down my thoughts about the book I’m reading. This motherfucker took me almost an entire page.

Granted, a solid 30% of those notes are me throwing insults at Étienne, but still. ‘STOP STOP STOP YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YOU DICK’ counts, right?

(That was #17 in my notes, by the way.)

For the record, I like Stephanie Perkins’s writing. It’s not as over-the-top and unnecessarily introspective as Jenny Han’s in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the interactions between Anna and her classmates were natural and not the “How do you do, fellow kids?” style of Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. The pacing is decent- I didn’t feel like it was too rushed; not the insta-love trope most YA romances unfortunately fall prey to.

And yet. AND YET.

Anna: “What’s your problem?” Amanda: “You.”

Same, Amanda, same.

Anna Oliphant is one of my least favorite leads in a book, ever. Étienne’s even shittier. And it’s not like Nick or Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, or any of the main characters from The Secret History, where readers pretty much unanimously hate them. You’re meant to relate to Anna, you’re meant to find Étienne charming and dreamy. I literally had to put the book away and calm myself down several times- especially in the last quarter of the book.

One of my main gripes with Anna is how… dumb she is. I guess Anna’s “Oopsies, silly me, I don’t know French!” is meant to be relatable to the readers. And some parts (like her not knowing how to order food because she can’t speak French) are plausible, but- sis, you didn’t know how to spell oui? And my idea of a cinematic masterpiece is Kung-Fu Panda, but even a dumbass like me knows that France is the film appreciation capital of the world. And yet Anna, a self-professed film freak, doesn’t?

Of course, Anna’s gorgeous, but she has no clue, because of course she doesn’t- even though she has multiple guys falling head over heels for her.

I’m in a short skirt. It’s the first time I’ve worn one here, but my birthday seems like the appropriate occasion. “Woo, Anna!” Rashmi fake-adjusts her glasses. “Why do you hide those things?”

Étienne is staring at my legs. The scales covering them throb under his intense gaze, and the pincers sticking out of my thighs start clicking rapidly in arousal. My hooves shiver in ecstasy.

… sorry, that’s not funny.

Her friends think Anna’s weird for wanting to write film reviews (which is the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard) instead of being the next Margot Robbie or whatever, but of course Étienne doesn’t and he thinks it’s not weird and cool and that Anna is such a special snowflake.

(Man, I sound like Amanda.)

And then we have this spiel by Anna about how she got into film critiquing (?), because we the readers need to know how special and #NotLikeOtherGirls Anna is.

To this, I say, “Piss off, you pretentious fuck.”

Of course, Anna’s a virgin and she’s never gotten drunk before or worn short skirts- she’s not a slut, she shaves below the knees only.

And would YA really be YA without several hearty helpings of internalized misogyny?

First up, we have the bimbo; the Barbie doll archetype whose only goal in life is acquiring the main guy (who is quite obviously uninterested in her), and making life hell for our protagonist. Amanda Whatsername (is she ever given a surname?) has this coveted role in Anna and the French Kiss. She’s blond (because of course she is); the first time we meet her, she’s in a, quote unquote, ‘teeny tank top’, and she also ‘positions herself for maximum cleavage exposure’. She’s always flipping her hair, getting her grubby paws on Étienne, giving Anna the stink-eye, being homophobic and a grade-A bitch.

Meredith goes batshit when Anna and Étienne kiss, and is very pouty and unhappy during prior Anna x Shittiene moments. Honey… he’s just not that into you. Rashmi’s the Ice Queen reincarnate and halfway to bitchdom. Anna doesn’t go as hard on them as she does on literally every other female her age in the book, though.

Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.

Anna, hate to break it to you, but not everyone’s a possessive fucking weirdo.

About Cherrie, her ex-boyfriend Matt’s new girlfriend:

And maybe Cherrie isn’t as bad as I remember. Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company, I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.

Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes. What does Matt see in her?

Even Bridgette, Anna’s best friend from Atlanta, isn’t immune to Anna’s anti-female propaganda. She’s screwing the guy Anna used to like, and Anna, the hypocrite, throws a huge fit.

For context: Bridgette and Toph are in a band called the Penny Dreadfuls (why is it with YA books and horrible band names? ‘Emoji’ from Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was bad enough), and Anna + Matt + Cherrie go to a bowling alley to see them perform. After the performance, Toph announces that he’s sleeping with Bridge, and Anna confronts Bridge… onstage.

“… You’re welcome to move in when I leave again, because that’s what you want, right? My life?”

She shakes with fury. “Go to hell.”

“Take my life. You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!” I knock over a cymbal stand, and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name. Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away, away, away.

Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.

I duck my head so my hair covers my face. I’m crying. This would have never happened if I hadn’t given Toph her number. All of those late-night practices and… he said they’ve had sex! What if they’ve had it at my house? Does he come over when she’s watching Seany? Do they go in the bedroom?

I’m going to be sick.

Give me a goddamn break.

Anna, about Ellie:

To my amazement, Ellie breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. Oddly enough, it’s this moment I realize that despite her husky voice and Parisian attire, she’s sort of… plain. But friendly-looking.

That still doesn’t mean I like her.

“Anna! From Atlanta, right? Where’d you guys go?”

She knows who I am? St. Clair describes our evening while I contemplate this strange development. Did he tell her about me? Or was it Meredith? I hope it was him, but even if it was, it’s not like he said anything she found threatening. She doesn’t seem alarmed that I’ve spent the last three hours in the company of her very attractive boyfriend. Alone.

[about Ellie’s Hallowe’en costume] Slutty nurse. I don’t believe it. Tiny white button-up dress, red crosses across the nipples. Cleavage city.

If I didn’t like Ellie before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn’t matter that I can count how many times we’ve met on one hand.

I fantasize about their break-up. How he could hurt her, and she could hurt him, and all of the ways I could hurt her back. I want to grab her Parisian-styled hair and yank it so hard it rips from her skull. I want to sink my claws into her eyeballs and scrape.

It turns out I am not a nice person.

YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

Emily Middlestone bends over to pick up a dropped eraser, and Mike Reynard leers at her breasts. Gross. Too bad for him she’s interested in his best friend, Dave. The eraser drop was deliberate, but Dave is oblivious.

One of the juniors, a girl with dark hair and tight jeans, stretches in a move designed to show off her belly button ring to Paul/Pete. Oh, please.

And I’m meant to like this character? I’m supposed to root for her?

I’m not saying every girl in the book should be perfectly sweet and friendly- that’s just not realistic. But when Anna has something judgmental to say about every other young female character… maybe she’s the problem.

In fact, the only girl I recall getting a pass is Isla Whatsername. And why do you think?

Brilliant.

And now we have the amalgamation of almost every fanfic boyfriend trope from 2014, Étienne St. Clair. Brown-eyed Harry Styles. I can’t fucking wait.

Étienne could’ve discovered the cure for cancer, or abolished poverty, or volunteered at animal shelters in his spare time. He could’ve been the most virtuous guy around (fret not; he decidedly isn’t). And I still wouldn’t’ve thought of him as the man of my dreams because HE HAS A BLOODY GIRLFRIEND.

I mean, which girl doesn’t want her boyfriend to say:

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again.”

Fuckin’ smooth, bro.

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know.”

Such a gentleman!

“So you can keep dating Ellie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”

Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to do with his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”

And this gem:

“If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

“I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

*me, banging pots and pans together* F U C K Y O U

“Ellie’s not like you, Anna; she’s a slut and a whore even though I’m the one who’s been thinking about another girl inappropriately and I’m the one who gets my knickers in a twist when another man glances in your direction because my masculinity is extremely fragile and I’m a total hypocrite and a dickhead.”

I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but that’s the gist.

WHILE DATING ELLIE: he gets Anna a book of sexual love poems, he calls her attractive (“Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you.”) multiple times, he gets jealous whenever another guy so much as breathes in Anna’s direction and constantly interrupts such interactions, he’s been ditching his friends for his girlfriend but suddenly decides he prefers a new girl over said girlfriend, he thinks bread pudding tastes good- in conclusion, he is a Massive Fucking Prick. Though in hindsight, him and Anna deserve each other. They’re awful.

I had loads more notes taken down (Anna using Dave; “The important thing is this: Dave is available. St. Clair is not.”); the implication that cheating is okay because Ellie is bad or whatever, even though the sudden change in her character seems contrived because she was perfectly okay with Étienne and Anna hanging out before; how my blood boils whenever I read an American book and American girls are like “oOoOh AcCenT!!!1!!1!!”; me reading “DAVE SAYS YER A SLUTBAG” in Hagrid’s voice; the sheer atrocity of the name ‘Étienne St. Clair’ (sounds like a caricature of a French person)… but this ‘review’ is already pushing 3k and I can’t be fucked to expand on any of those points.

Verdict (which is apparently the same in French):

Who needs Christopher when Étienne St. Clair is in the world?

Speak for yourself.

#books #book review #anna and the french kiss #Stephanie Perkins #french #france #parisian #paris #YA #young adult #romance #teen fiction #bad books

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mcheang · 4 years

Text

To live without a heart

Warning: this has Adrien salt in it.

Upset by all the emotions that have caused havoc in her life, Marinette decides to use a spell that Master Fu translated that will seal away any romantic feelings she has.

Once that is done, she no longer feels heartache over Adrien.

She no longer feels jealous about Kagami, Chloe and Lila.

She can actually hold a conversation with Adrien.

Marinette has become far more logical. She still has emotions but they are more muted. She no longer gets excited.

The new Marinette doesn’t get bothered about Lila’s lies anymore and only calmly points out the flaws in them. When her friends don’t believe her, Marinette just shrugs it off.

When Chloe bullies Marinette, she just doesn’t care and is only annoyed. She gives Chloe a look, like are you done yet?

When Alya gets excited about Ladybug theories, Marientte calmly disagrees, pointing out the Ladyblog would be endangering Ladybug.

Even her banters with Chat have lessened.

Luka notices something is wrong immediately. Marinette’s melody has grown muted.

And it’s true. Marinette no longer has creative inspiration. She relies on old sketches that still become instant hits. But these will run out sooner or later.

To break the spell, just give her true love’s kiss.

Chat eventually figured out Marinette’s secret identity but she isn’t bothered by it.

Chat demands to know what she did and Marinette explains the spell but not the cure.

Chat is baffled and asked why she did that.

Marinette admits she is tired of making mistakes because of her crush. It became too painful to pine after him, it became painful with how low she had sunk because of her jealousy, and it became painful when his betrayals hurt more than her other friends.

Chat asks who.

Unashamed, Marinette admits she liked Adrien Agreste. Only now without her emotions blinding her, she wondered what she had ever saw in him because now she only thought of him as insensitive, unreliable, and naive.

Chat is baffled and then hurt. He points out that Ladybug is losing her touch, that her creativity is running dry. Is giving up her crush worth losing what she loves doing?

Ladybug pauses at that.

Then Chat continues, asking what Adrien had done to hurt her so much.

1. let’s see, he was the only one unaware of her crush on him because everyone knew about it. (Chat is humiliated at his ignorance) and thus did not find it awkward to ask her to plan a date with him and Kagami.

2. He actually had the gall to model with Lila after the latter got her expelled. He had to be asked to defend her at school. And for weeks, he has let his class be manipulated by that liar. Let’s just say Adrien is never reliable when it comes to bullies. He likes to sweep the hurt under the rug and ignore it, hoping it would go away.

At that point, Chat asks Marinette to stop because he doesn’t think he can stand anymore of her criticism.

He reminds her to think of her job as Ladybug. If she dislikes Adrien ignoring the problem, isn’t she doing the same thing? Trying to bury her feelings instead of moving on.

Ladybug sees his point but admits she feels scared because of how alone she had felt before at school. She always tries to please people: her crush, her teacher, her friends. She’s tired of taking the blame and guilt when she believes she is in the right to say no, or for her actions. She wants Chloe to be punished for her vandalism without being told to forgive her, she wants to expose Lila without being told to save the Liar’s face, and she wants to sit in her seat without being blamed for being inconsiderate by her hypocritical classmates.

Ladybug reveals the cure and wonders how to get it. She could ask either Adrien or Luka or Chat.

Chat gently kisses her and breaks the spell because he still loved her.

Marinette starts weeping as her emotions return. She finally recalls what she loved about Adrien. She fell in love with the kind, gentle, and thoughtful boy.

Chat listens eagerly, partly to heal his damaged self-esteem.

1. Adrien likes giving horrible people second chances. Chloe, Lila, even her when she wrongly accused him.

2. Adrien isn’t really the kind of person to get angry. He could have hated her for rashly judging him, and instead he tried again to make a Friend.

3. He loaned her his umbrella (though to be fair he had a ride home and didn’t know she lived nearby)

Along with the feeling of love, Marinette now recalls what it means to be broken-hearted, and weeps in Chat’s arms.

When she cools down, Marinette thanks Chat for helping her to see sense. Chat asks what she is going to do regarding Adrien.

Marinette sighs. “What I should have done in the first place. I need to confess and get it out of my system.”

One good thing came out of this though, Marinette finally admits Adrien has flaws and proclaims his high road is stupid. She will gather evidence and prove Lila’s a liar.

Chat encourages Marinette to ask Adrien for help. She is very, very skeptical. The boy hates conflict.

Chat coaxes Marinette to give Adrien a chance to prove once and for all whose side he is on.

The next day at school, Marinette confesses to Adrien before declaring she is going on a boy hiatus. She wants to clear her heart and just be free of that burden.

Adrien understands but admits that Chat confronted him yesterday. Adrien reveals he forced Lila to get Marinette back to school. He asked Marinette to let him support her in exposing Lila. But Marinette is doubtful, because she doesn’t him to help only because a hero pressured him to.

Adrien protests that Chat didn’t do anything to persuade him. He already knew Lila had to be stopped once she framed Marinette. He only apologizes that he never took the initiative. Adrien pleads that Marinette let him redeem himself.

Marinette has to take a deep breath and remind herself of her hiatus. She agrees.

Together, Marinette and Adrien talk to the class when Lila is absent at another video game contest (she had gloated about her high scores to Max but naturally was lying). Marinette calls Jagged as Adrien explains Ladybug herself called Lila out. When the class is skeptical and wonder if Marinette put Adrien up to this, he vehemently defends her until Jagged is out on loudspeaker.

Lila becomes a social pariah.

From that point on, Adrien was respectful to give Marinette her space. He gently let down Chloe and Kagami. He refused to do any more joint shoots with Lila. Adrien usually supports Marinette in whatever. He may not be pursuing Ladybug right now, but that doesn’t mean he has stopped loving her, nor does it mean he won’t stop trying to be worthy of her.

Marinette is happy to let go of her crush and just focus on her own happiness. In time, she will be open her heart again to the possibility of romance, but not just yet, and maybe it will be someone new.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #lila gets exposed #lila is exposed #lila salt #adrien salt #ml salt fic #post miracle queen

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galivantingg · 4 years

Text

sinking

the beginning

People want to believe they are what they choose to remember. The good stuff. -It Chapter Two

Jacob thinks about that quote a lot. What does he remember about himself? His mind flashes back to the days of arguments, bullying and proving to be the biggest brat ever. Of name calling, rude quips and stoney faces. Too long arguments about things that didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. If all he remembers is the bad stuff, does that make him a bad person? Yes, it does. Jacob is a bad person. He's mean, belittling, and takes everyone for granted. He thinks about himself first, doesn't ask how the other is doing in return, at least not automatically. He has to try to be nice. He has to force it. Jacob is a bad person because he is a thoughtless person. He just doesn't think, before he acts, or speaks. He literally is, head empty, no thoughts.

He can be nice, people have told him that, but he doesn't think he is nice. He has his moments, It's usually when he's giving someone something, or doing something for them, but there's no ulterior motive; except for validation. That's all Jacob wants. Validation. He wants to be noticed, to be needed. And when he does something for someone, he becomes needed. Which grants him what he wants, which makes him a bad person. Nice people don't do things for others for expect something in return. It is a fact, Jacob is a bad person.

Now that that's out of the way, let's begin.

Jacob was lying there on his bed, watching the sun rise through his window. He wanted to know the time, but didn’t have the energy to turn his head to the side and check the clock. The sun was a little over halfway over the houses, the sky a brilliant blue already, and the birds were just as annoying as ever. It was pretty at first, but after the first twenty minutes of tuneless chirping it became tiresome. He doesn't remember the last time he slept properly. Either he'd come home, sleep until dinner, push his food around, then go back to sleep, waking up some time around four or five in the morning, and spend the next two hours staring out his window or at his ceiling, or he'd come home and not sleep at all. There was no in between, no compromise. He'd either get roughly eleven hours of sleep in one day, or none. On nights he didn't sleep he would do homework for ten hours straight. He'd work through essay after essay, checking the syllabus for each class and starting a new one when he finished. Never mind if it hadn't been assigned yet, Jacob would do it. He'd do anything to avoid sitting and staring at his wall for ten hours. He thinks he has insomnia, but it could just be a symptom of the depression.

He only allowed a certain time slot for his thoughts to run wild. If he didn't keep to his routine, he'd go insane.

His family didn't see him often, not for a while. His parents didn't approve of him locking himself in his room all the time, but they got his report cards, ninety-five percent average, and he joined them for meals, so they didn't fight it. In fact, they just carried on with things. They would make jokes, "oh look, he's alive!", "well well well there's a surprise for you," and a couple "woah! Sorry, not used to seeing you". The jokes didn't make him want to spend time with them. Of course, if he told them that, they'd say that it's only a joke, he shouldn't be so sensitive. He would say he's not being sensitive, it makes him feel judged. They would tell him that he needs to stop taking everything so seriously, it was just a joke. He’s not laughing.

They don't understand. Sure maybe it's not their fault, maybe Jacob could've explained things better when he was formally diagnosed two years ago, or even when he first started feeling this way six years ago, but he knows it wouldn't matter. They can be sympathetic, but they'll never really understand. They'll never be empathetic, and Jacob knows this for sure. He knows this because when he told his mother he was depressed maybe four years ago, she brushed it off. She said, "Oh Jacob, I know it seems like that now, but just wait. You'll feel better soon," completely ignoring the fact that Jacob had said he'd felt like this for two years at that point. Things just went downhill from there.

Jacob has a lot of feelings about the past four years. Mostly nothing, but sometimes he'll be overcome with anger, then annoyance, and then that blissful emptiness. That wonderful nothing.

Months went by, and nothing changed. Not even his mom's attitude towards him. Jacob remembers when one of his friends found out by accident. He was keeping a secret, but said something he shouldn't have, which led to that friend finding something Jacob wanted to keep secret. He was nicer to Jacob for a while after that, it took Jacob a while to notice. Every time someone in the group would tease him, that friend would tell them to back off. Jacob didn't know where it was coming from at first, but was thankful nonetheless. Until he found screenshots of a conversation between that friend and another friend in the group, talking about Jacob's secret. His friend was only being nicer because of this secret.

Jacob was angry for a while. He didn't understand why being depressed was the only way to get them to stop teasing him, to stop making him the butt of the joke. Why couldn't they see that it doesn't matter if he's depressed or not, he shouldn't have to endure that much teasing. Then they went back to normal. And Jacob stopped feeling angry. He just felt empty.

There's a memory Jacob has, a memory of when he was maybe six, and it was his mother's birthday. His dad wanted him to stand next to him while they sang Happy Birthday to his mom, but instead he was knelt next to the coffee table untying his toy dog on wheels from the leg. He was still singing Happy Birthday, not to mention he was six, so it's not like he really understood anyway, but his dad got mad. He was taken upstairs to his room, and was yelled at, until he started crying. Jacob has a vague memory of being hit across the face, but looking back, he doesn't know if that really happened. He attributes that moment to his development of depression. He doesn't remember experiencing all the symptoms, but he does remember around Grade Six feeling like he will never be enough. He clearly remembers trying hard to fit in, but no one really wanted him around. He'd interact with people, but wouldn't get the same reaction as others did. He'd say something witty, and no one would laugh, but someone else would say a simplified version of it and suddenly they were the funniest person in the world.

Jacob has some issues.

Sometimes these memories made him angry, other times embarrassed, but more often than not they just reminded him why he doesn't belong.

A soft knock came from the door, and he heard his mother from the other side say, "Jacob, honey, are you awake yet?" Jacob sat up and pushed himself off the bed, walking to his door. He twisted the knob, pulling the door towards him and walked away to his dresser, pulling clothes out of the drawers. "Good morning sweetie, how are you?" His mom took a step into his room. A twinge of annoyance flickered in the back of his mind but he shoved it down, telling himself he has no right to feel that way. His parents didn't ask much of him, he has no right to be rude to them.

"I'm good fine, mom, only been awake for a bit so I don't really know if it's been a good day or a bad day yet," he turned to face her, smiling a bit. He had become an excellent liar over the years, able to hide his mood and fib his way through a conversation. "I'm gonna shower now though," he murmured, starting to walk towards the door. She smiled gently at him and stepped to the side, following him out and walking down the stairs.

As he lathered shampoo in his hair his head was filled with the usual back and forth debate on whether or not the people in his life actually cared about him. The evidence is pretty fifty fifty. An image of the gentle smile flashed across his mind, then he remembered a moment where his mother had said that he needed to get out in order to feel happier. But she isn't wrong, statistically speaking fresh air is better for you, and exercise releases endorphins that make him happy. On the other hand, he knew that if he went out without someone expecting him some place at some time, he wouldn't exactly be careful when crossing the street. He doesn't trust himself, and while he doesn't believe his family actually likes him as a person, he could never risk hurting them, no matter how much pain they've caused him.

That shower got depressing really fast. He shook his head and stepped out, grabbing a towel and drying himself off. He pulled on his clothes, brushed his teeth, moisturized and opened the door, heading down the hall and walking down the stairs. He greeted his dad, grabbed an apple, picked up his school bag and headed out the front door. Jacob dropped his bag in the passenger seat of his car and slid in behind the wheel, starting up the car and tapping his fingers on the wheel. Thirty seconds later the front door opened and slammed shut, and out of the corner of his eye he saw two figures moving across the lawn towards him. The locks made an audible sound when he locked them, just as the girl put her hand on the passenger side handle.

"Um Jake," she said, not looking very pleased. "What, do you think you're doing?"

Jacob rolled down the window and leaned over, smiling up at her. "Back seat is for people who crash their cars, Phoebs."

"Don't call me that it's not my name," she snapped back, her hand still on the handle. The boy behind her started snickering. "Shut it Pai." The boy's head snapped up, a scowl on his face now.

"Hypocrite." He muttered.

Jacob was still smiling. "You two, in the back. Now."

The girl still wouldn't let go of the door handle. They're going to be late at this rate.

"Only if you promise not to shorten our names anymore," she said, loosening her grip.

Jacob sighed. Well there goes all his fun. "Fine. Phoebus, Paieon, back seats. Let's go."

They smiled, the same smile, stupid twins and their identicalness. He unlocked the door and they slid into the back seats like plebeians, then they were off. The ride was filled with beautiful serenity. Just kidding. It was filled with the sounds of Phoebus and Paieon arguing, over something stupid no doubt. Jacob paid them little mind. He was very good at ignoring everything, from feelings to hunger pains, among other things, not to toot his own horn or anything. Those other things include overanalyzing, patronizing others, and most of all, worrying. He is very good at worrying. Soon they pulled up next to the school and the twins were dashing out of the still moving car (yikes!) shouting something along the lines of "see you at three ten". Jacob took a moment to himself to breathe, drawing up the energy and reinforcing his walls for the day. Each day got harder and harder, it was only a matter of time. You’re not here for yourself, you’re here for others. Your purpose is to serve until you are no longer needed.

A knock on his window startled him. He looked over to see a girl leaning down, her hair hanging freely and a furrow in her brow, She mimed cranking down the window, like in an old car. Jacob rolled down the window. "Yes?"

"Sorry," she said, biting her lip. "It's just uh, you looked I don't know, alone? I was wondering if you're okay?" Jacob's eyebrows rose in surprise. She must be new. "Yeah, I am new," she laughed a little, looking away then looking back at him. Her eyes seemed to look past his walls and see right into his soul. He didn't like it. Make it stop.

"I'm Jacob, but everyone around here calls me autistic mostly." Jacob said, staring right at her to gauge her reaction. She looked taken aback.

"Are you?"

That's a new one. Asking if he is autistic. He shook his head. "Just anti-social," he smiled half heartedly. She grinned.

"So I'm getting the most anyone's ever gotten out of you?" Jacob nodded his head, confirming. She smiled again, her eyes twinkling. There was something behind them, something he couldn't quite place. Oh well, must not be important. "Cool. Why don't we head in and you show me around, Jacob?" The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine, and he tried not to move so it wouldn't show. He smiled a little, and she stepped back to let him out. He locked the door behind him, and she wound herself around his free arm, the other shouldering his bag. Jacob looked down at her in surprise. No one has willingly gotten this close to him in a long time. The only time he had physical contact was during gym class.

He opened his mouth to say something but she forged on ahead, dragging him along with her. He was too confused and overwhelmed by this sudden change that he didn't notice they had arrived at his locker. He was still confused as he unlocked it, grabbing a textbook he had forgotten and closing it.

"Take me to the office? I need to get my schedule and student card." He nodded dumbly, letting himself once again be dragged along. She looked up at him and gave him another dazzling smile, and it took him walking into the wall for him to regain his focus. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand and set off through the hall, ignoring the looks from the students staring at the weirdo with a very beautiful new girl hanging off his arm. His mask rose, and his face went stoney. They arrived at the office and his second mask slipped into place. His customer service mask, if you would.

"Good morning Irene," he greeted the older woman behind the desk. She didn't look up. "I have a new student here who needs her student ID and timetable if that's not too much trouble?" Irene mumbled something. He leaned closer, "Pardon? I didn't quite catch that sorry."

She looked up at him as if he had personally wronged her family a thousand years ago, then repeated, "Name?"

Jacob froze for a second, just now realizing that she knew his name, but he didn't know hers. "Leah Marsh," she jumped in, still holding on to Jacob's arm. Would she ever let go? Irene muttered again, and Leah must have very good hearing because she laughed and said, "No no, we're not related. We just met," and she looked back up at him with that dazzling smile and that twinkle in her eye. Jacob's ears went red. She laughed.

Irene stood and grabbed something from a drawer, a piece of paper and a small plastic ID card, putting them on top of the half wall separating them before sitting back down. "Have a good day now," she murmured to her computer screen.

Jacob smiled, the polite boy his mother raised in him coming out. "Thank you, you too."

And they were off once again, Leah dragging Jacob out the door and around the corner.

"Let me see your schedule? I can help you find your classes before the bell goes." Jacob offered. He held out his hand, and Leah passed over the piece of paper. He scanned it, then scanned it again. He pulled out his phone and her the two items next to each other, looking back and forth. "Looks like we have all the same classes? Odd," he murmured.

"Cool!" Leah said. He glanced over at her and her face was brighter than the sun. How could one person be so happy? Doesn't it get tiresome?

"Well I guess we're heading to first period English," he handed back the schedule. "Come on, it's this way." He led her down the north hall, stuck inside his head again. He was so caught up in his own mind that he didn't notice Leach staring directly at him, not even looking where they were going. Which led to her knocking into someone, of course.

"Hey!" The kid exclaimed, outraged, until he got a good look at who he had bumped into. "Oh, hey," his voice changed, and Jacob finally snapped out of his thoughts and looked over.

"I'm so sorry, I was leading and I didn't see you," Jacob apologized, getting a good look at the kid. It's Matthew, one of the popular kids. He's a guard on the basketball team, though he should be post guard, what with his height. He was a tall lanky kid, and easily made three pointers. The only reason Jacob knew this is because one of his classes is Yearbook, which makes him a photographer for the school. You'd think that would make people be a little nicer to him, but nope. Still gets bullied.

Matthew sneered. "Who said you could speak, retard." Jacob looked at the ground, ashamed. He should've known better. Leah giving him attention does not make him liked by everyone else all of a sudden.

Leah laughed lightly, and he looked at her. "No, Jacob's right, we should have been paying attention. Sorry about that," she lifted one of her hands and held it vertically in front of her face. Odd. Jacob had never seen someone do that before. He'd never seen anyone like Leah before. She truly was a unique person.

Matthew looked her up and down, then smirked lightly. "Why are you hanging out with this retard?"

"We have all the same classes it seems, so he's showing me around." Leah smiled up at him and this time Jacob wished she hadn't. Matthew was glaring at him and if looks could kill, well let's just say Jacob wouldn't be doing too well.

"Why don't I show you around? You're not going to get much out of him, he doesn't talk." Matthew was speaking to Leah but was staring directly at Jacob. It was like Matthew was daring him to say something, prove him wrong, but Jacob knew better. Any time he spoke outside of class, weird things would happen. He'd suddenly trip, or his books would be knocked out of his hand, or even weirder, he'd be shoved head first into a locker. Strange.

Jacob said nothing. Leah looked back up at him, and finally noticed his whole demeanour had changed. He was rigid, stone face and looking at the ground. More than that he was closed off. The arm she was holding onto had gone limp, and he other hand was shoved into his pocket. She gently let go of his arm. Matthew smiled broadly. He held out his arm, as if he were a gentleman.

"Great, let's go." Matthew led the two of them down the hall, chatting animatedly. She didn't look back.

The next few hours passed in a haze of learning, note taking and teachers droning on, just as bored as their students. Jacob didn't understand why but he was somehow hurt from Leah ditching him. He shouldn't be, because everyone leaves him at some point, but she seemed different. There was something about her, she was warm, friendly, and she seemed genuine. Ah well, it doesn't matter now. She met Matthew and she was obviously getting along well with him. Jacob sat in the middle at the far side of his classes, trying not to draw attention to himself. He'd also somehow get there earlier than everyone else, and would keep his head down as people walked in. He noticed Leah walking in each time, but she didn't look at him. That solidified it in his mind: she wasn't worth the emotions he was feeling.

He focussed on the board, transferring the words from the board to his laptop, then don't get too comfortable, you're just a placeholder. He shook his head lightly, shaking away the unpleasant thoughts. Intrusive thoughts begone! He doesn't have time for this, he needs to take notes.

Lunch came and Leah walked right past him with Matthew and another girl named Clarissa. Matthew stared at him as they walked past, as if challenging him to say something, but Jacob knows his place. He looked down. Grabbing an iced tea from the cafeteria he paid for it and headed out a set of double doors to the lawn, finding a tree and climbing up into it. He pulled his apple out of his bag and bit into it, enjoying the peace up in the branches. It was quiet, birds chirping and kids laughing, tossing around a football or stretched out on the grass. Jacob looked up, captivated by the sun shining through the leaves.

This tree was his escape, no one else ever came out this far so no one else was there to bully him.

He stared out at the field, looking at each and every person. They know him, but they don't at the same time. They know his face, his speech (or lack thereof). What they don't know is his mannerisms, his story, his raison d'être, which really doesn't exist. They don't know that sometimes he cries himself to sleep, sometimes he doesn't sleep, and when he does, he dreams of everyone around him leaving. The haunting image of the backs of those he loves flashes across his eyes and this time he doesn't shake his head. He embraces it. They don't love him, it's just a fact. Well, they do, but they don't. What Jacob means is that they love him, because they're family, but they don't love him for him. They don't love his random outbursts of weirdness, standing in doorways like a creep, making horrible jokes. They don't love who he is as a person, and that's okay. Jacob can barely tolerate himself, how are others supposed to tolerate him?

Before he knows it, he's climbed to the very top of the tree, and he's leaping out of it,

falling

falling.

He crashes to the ground hard on his arm and lets out an involuntary yelp, drawing the attention of the other students outside. Well shit. That's not what he was planning, but it's happened now and there's no going back. Some kids came running over, the ones who didn't really know him, and one asked if he was okay. Does he look like he's okay? He's pale, sweating, and his right arm is bent awkwardly. He is not okay. They send someone inside, and the kid who asked if he's alright kneels beside him, helping him lean against the tree. He spots Jacob's bag in the tree and stands up to grab it, pulling out his iced tea.

"Thanks man," Jacob says, accepting the drink.

"What happened?" The kid asked.

"I was trying to climb higher, but I must've slipped or something because next thing you know I'm falling."

"Hm," the kid pondered. What could he be pondering? "Cause from where I was it looked like you had jumped out," he looked sideways at Jacob, and his blood froze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jacob stammered. The kid just looked at him coolly.

Before he could answer he was interrupted by someone else rushing over, calling his name.

"Jacob? Jacob!" He looked up, and saw it was Leah. She was followed closely by Matthew and Clarissa, and in no time she was kneeling on his other side, hands halfway through the air and her face riddled with worry. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Jacob just stared at her. What was she doing here? This was a complete turn around from how she had been acting earlier. Matthew and Clarissa had caught up. "I'm telling you Leah," Matthew was shaking his head, still wearing that stupid smirk. "He's not going to talk."

Leah glared at him before turning back to Jacob, looking at him softly. The pain from his arm was already starting to go away, which makes absolutely no sense at all. "Jake are you okay?" He felt that twinge of annoyance at the nickname, who was she to give him a nickname, but he shoved it down. He nodded.

"He fell out of the tree," the kid said. Jacob didn't know who he was, and he knows everyone. He has to, he's on yearbook.

"Oh my god, Jakey that's horrible! Is your arm hurt?" She lightly touched his broken arm and he hissed, drawing back a bit. From Jake to Jakey in less than a minute. Who was she? Why did she feel so comfortable with him, and why did he feel so comfortable with her? He just wanted to tell her everything was alright, but nothing was alright.

Leah looked up at the kid, a smile covering her face. "Thanks for coming to his rescue and letting me know. My name is Leah, nice to meet you," she held out her hand and the kid shook it.

"Erick," he replied, smiling tightly. How did Erick know to get Leah? What's with this kid?

"The retard is fine, Leah. Just leave him alone," Matthew said, growing impatient.

Leah whipped her head back to glower at him. "The 'retard'," she spat, emphasizing the slur, "is my mate, so back the fuck off."

What?

Matthew held his hands up, trying to calm her. "Woah, how was I supposed to know that?"

Leah just growled. It sounded animalistic. The gears in Jacob's mind started to turn. How she had shown up when he was in distress near her, how she had answered a question he had only thought, why she seemed so keen on attaching herself to him. But why did she leave him then? Why did she choose to go with Matthew over him? This doesn't make sense. First he has to accept that werewolves are real, she's much too warm to be a vampire, but she could be a selkie? Or any other mythical creature really. Jacob doesn't know, he doesn't know anything anymore. If they were werewolves, and that's a pretty big if, Jacob could understand why Matthew always hit him so hard, versus other people, like Max, or Grizz.

Jacob lifted his eyebrows. His arm is broken, he's been on an emotional rollercoaster today, and he would just like to know what's going on. So he said as much. "So, what pack are you guys from?"

"I'm a rogue," Leah replied, turning to look at him.

"Half Moon," Matthew responded offhandedly. Then he realized what he said. He put a sneer on, "What's it to you?"

"I'm human," Jacob shrugged, ignoring the pain.

"Ah," Matthew said, nodding. "Wait, what?" He looked at Leah, then back at Jacob. This is probably the first time they've held eye contact for this long. "How are you human?"

"Uh, good question. I just am? My whole family is human." Jacob replied.

Matthew shook his head. "No, your family is part of the other pack in this town, Rising Sun. You smell like them, so we all assumed that you just hadn't shifted yet, which is why we bully you. But you're saying you're human?"

None of this makes sense.

Jacob nodded. "Yep, that's what I'm saying. Guess I need to have a talk with my family about a certain furry secret." Jacob smirked. This'll be fun. God this day has been crazy, and it's not even halfway over. Wait a second, Leah said she's a rogue?

"So," Jacob looked at Leah. "You're a rogue?"

Leah stiffened. Touchy subject apparently. She nodded.

"And you're my mate,"

Leah brightened, "Yeah! I wanted to tell you, but you got so cold when we ran into Matty that I thought maybe you were going to reject me," she looked at the ground. She's lying. She wasn't going to tell him, she didn't want to tell him. She's only here now because of what they call the mate bond, and she couldn't exactly up and leave halfway towards running to him. Then she'd really look like a bitch. Jacob is seriously starting to doubt she actually wants to be mates with him.

"Fascinating," Jacob commented. Leah frowned. Jacob shook his head. "That there are werewolves," he explained. It was kinda cool. "So what other mythical creatures are real?"

Leah was about to launch into a whole explanation but she was cut off by Erick. "Shouldn't we get him to the office? His arm is still broken." Thank you Erick, for being the voice of reason. Jacob never would have remembered that the bone in his arm is broken if not for that comment. It's not like he couldn't feel the searing pain coming from the limb. How enlightening.

"That would be much appreciated," Jacob said instead. Erick helped him up, and Leah tried to help by grabbing his other arm, which was the broken arm. It did not help. She retracted her hands, demoting herself to just standing and walking beside him. Irene the office woman was not entirely impressed to see him, but called an ambulance nonetheless and he was off. He got his cast, bright pink of course, and was given some pain meds before being sent on his merry way.

He walked back to the school.

Since he was technically exempt from his afternoon classes but it was close to three ten so he just waited in the car. After bumming around on Tumblr for a bit, he finally heard the bell go, and not long after that his beloved younger twin siblings were racing out the school doors, headed right for the car. They tugged on the door handles impatiently, waiting for Jacob to unlock it. He finally did, and they slid in.

"Why are you out so early? Aren't your spares tomorrow?" Jacob lifted up his broken arm in response. He looked back at their faces, the picture of surprise. Eyebrows raised, mouths in the shape of a O. Hilarious. With that, Jacob started the car and drove off. When they got home, Phoebus slamming the door of course, the twins headed upstairs and Jacob strolled into the kitchen, ready for his talk with his parents.

"So I met my mate today," he said casually. His mom was typing on the computer, his dad filling out papers, and neither of them looked up.

"That's great sweetie," his mother said lightly, still not paying attention. Silence, then, "What did you say?"

"My mate," Jacob said louder. "I found her,"

"Mm not possible Jacob," his dad murmured. "You're not a werewolf."

"But you guys are," Suddenly they froze, finally tuning into the conversation.

Gotcha!

#wip #em writes #sinking #mental health #mental health awareness #tw depression #tw suicidal thoughts #depression #suicidal thoughts #suicidal #wish a dash of fantasy because that's what I wanted to do #writing in progress #writing #writeblr #magic #werewolves #mates #werewolf

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cursed-ice-spirits · 5 years

Text

Rebecca’s First Year: Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Scheme

Prev: Chapter 4

First: Chapter 1

Next: Chapter 6

“Nothin’?! But yeh coulda died in there — if Diego hadn’t gotten me like he did, I dunno what would happen!”

“Drop it, Hagrid — I don’t care anymore. I’m done with this school.”

“What the bloody hell happened to you?!”

A shout pulled her out of her thoughts as she stepped inside the Common Room. Jane was on her like a hawk. Hands on her hips and eyes narrowed, it was the last thing Rebecca wanted to see after being attacked by a Devil’s Snare.

And great, everyone’s attention is on her too, marvelous.

She doesn’t fault them for thinking that. She’s a mess, her robes were all ripped up, and her hair was messy. But she also likes to not be stared at. Heavens knows she needs to knock out after this. Again.

Jane frowned at her when she didn’t answer. “I thought you were going to get a witness — you looked as though you’ve been run over with a truck!”

“I’ve been attacked by the devil,” Rebecca said dryly. In the corner of her eye, she spots the boy that was with Hagrid when she got out of the closet. Back then, she was too preoccupied with… something else but… now she’s worried if he babbled about what happened to her but with how her housemates are looking at her, she doubts that.

She’s somewhat grateful. Without a doubt, they’ll mock her for being weak and tell her that she deserves it. She doesn’t need that.

“Wow,” she hears Meadows whisper. “No wonder the rumors say she’s mad. She is mad.”

Rebecca’s eye twitched.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Don’t punch her.

She feels her eyes burn with tears but she stands her ground.

She will not cry. Not now. Not in front of them. It’s weak. They’ll laugh and mock her for being weak weak weak—

“I’m not mad,” she finds herself snapping. The stares — she can’t fucking handle it!! “There’s something called sarcasm, moron. Maybe you should learn what it is before calling me mad. Or, better yet, learn to think before you speak. Maybe you’ll be quieter.”

To her delight, Meadows flushes and she opens her mouth to respond, but Rebecca cuts across her.

“Just leave me alone. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Rebecca turned on her heel and stormed up the stairs, ignoring any calls of her name.

Chiara was already there when she arrives. She takes one look at Rebecca’s ruined robes and opens the brunette’s trunk, taking out one of her robes and holding it out to her with a smile.

“You look like you need this,” she says.

Thank you, Chiara.

You are the only person I like so far.

“Thank you,” Rebecca mutters as she takes the robe and pulls off her ruined one, replacing it with the new one.

“You’re welcome. The least I can do.” Footsteps approached her and a hand was placed on her shoulder, making her stiffen. “If you need anything, you’re free to go to me.”

Rebecca pursed her lips and peeled her shoulder away. “I’ll think about it.”

She turned her back and quickly left the dorm again, racing out of the Common Room before she can be stopped and be pushed around. She can tell, the moment she was back down, a third-year was opening his mouth, a sneer on his face before she yanked the door open and rushed out.

—————

“Hey, Loner Lordy! Out of the closet?”

FUCK.

Rebecca didn’t turn around and just sped up…

And proceeded to crash into a solid wall.

“Son of a--” she swore as she stumbled back. A hand grabbed her shoulder firmly and stopped her from falling and she blinked, raising her eyes.

Turns out the wall wasn’t a wall. It was a very familiar Gryffindor with red hair.

Bill Weasley.

Bill frowned down at her and placed his hand on her other shoulder, straightening her up. “You seem like you’re in a hurry.”

Rebecca glanced nervously at his hands and then back over her shoulder. “Yeah, that’s a bit of an understatement.”

“I got you now L—oh, uh, Weasley!” Lockwood began, only to skip to a stop when he saw Bill. “Uh, hey! How are you, man?”

“Samuel,” Bill greeted even as he pushed Rebecca slightly behind him. “I’m doing good. Are you bothering Rebecca by any chance?”

Lockwood glanced nervously at her. “Uh, no! We’re buds, best buds! I just wanna talk to her, is all. Right L— Rebecca?”

Is he really that stupid to think I’ll play along? Rebecca raised her eyebrow. “You called me the equivalent of a slut.”

She started when Bill’s face darkened with a scowl, even as he growled out. “Samuel—“

“It was just playing around!” Lockwood protested sweating profusely. “I didn’t mean it, really—“

“Calling me a slur wasn’t playing around,” She told him, taking great delight in his panicked face. “I was more than a little hurt you know.”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Bill said sharply, his eyes steel even as he turned on Lockwood and his lackeys. “You should be ashamed of yourselves — name-calling is one thing, throwing around slurs is another! This type of bullying is not tolerated. Go on now! Scram! Or else I’m going to let the head of house know and they’re not going to take this lightly!”

That... was a bit of a surprise. She didn’t expect Bill to defend her. She watches them run off.

Rebecca waited until they were gone to open her mouth, whatever to say thank you or to throw another insult at Lockwood, she didn’t get a chance to. The sounds of clapping prevented her from doing so.

“Well well well,” a slight Spanish accent said in amusement, an accent that struck her as familiar. And apparently, Bill did too because he stiffened and pushed her behind him even more, much to her disgruntlement. “I did not expect you to be so harsh on members of your own house, Weasley.”

It was Veronica. The one who gave her her father’s gift.

“I don’t tolerate bullying, Da Rosa,” Bill said through gritted teeth. It kinda surprised Rebecca, because he seemed chill before Lockwood came around. Seems like he had some buff with Veronica somehow. “You know this.”

“Potato, potahto,” Veronica waved it off, smiling. Rebecca noted interestingly that her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, I am not here to banter with you, I’m here to speak to Lord. Preferably alone.”

Bill’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. “What? Hell no — why should I trust someone who is an associate of the Black Market of all things?”

Associate of the Black Market? Huh, interesting. Rebecca frowned as she continued to listen, keeping silent.

A spark of irritation comes to life in the other redhead’s dark blue eyes. Veronica squares her shoulders and her accent became more pronounced. “RRRatherrr interrresting of you to say when you jhang arrrount someone who jhas rrrumorrrs cirrrculating jherrr just as much as myself.”

She put her hands behind her head and stared challengingly at Bill. “I am not judging you forrr jhelping jherrr out — Lockwoot is berrry difficult — but… if I dit not know any betterrr, I woult say you arrre a jhypocrrrite.”

It was obvious she was irritated. If she didn’t have an accent before, she has it now.

Oh heavens, Rebecca thought, annoyed as she watched Bill bristle up. She wonders if she has time to escape but Bill’s hand is still on her shoulder so he’ll probably notice if she tries to sneak away.

Guess it’s time to get some popcorn.

Bill’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Hypocrite?!” He crosses his arms, glaring at the shorter girl. “If you’re so innocent, you wouldn’t be such a bully. Sure there are rumors about Rebecca, but at least she doesn’t go around being an arsehole to everyone.”

Kinda true but when you think about all the things she snapped at Meadows, you’ll think otherwise. Then again, that harpy deserved it. Rebecca’s eyes wander to the piece of paper in Veronica’s left hand and she squints at it. Huh, why does that handwriting look so…?

—Bring me a jar of Pickled Slugs from the Potions Storeroom, and I will consider restoring your House Points, Snape.

She blinks and cuts in as Veronica’s wand spits out fiery sparks. “Is that my letter from Snape? Where did you get it?”

Veronica blinked and the sparks disappeared.

That was close. Any later, she would have hexed him.

Veronica glanced at her and her English turned more clear and precise. “Nicked it from Snape of course. Apparently he figured out who forged his signature but all she got was a slap on the wrist.”

“So a Slytherin.”

“Si.” Veronica said. “And this is what I want to talk to you about. I am going to let this go since you are going to need all the help you can get but in the future, I need you to do a little favor for me whatever you ask for information,” she points out. “Does not have to be immediately. I will let you know when I need that favor..”

Bill’s eye twitched. “Don’t do it,” He warned her. “I have no doubt those favors will screw you over.”

She can’t screw me over more than I already am, she thought, but said nothing.

“Depends on what the favor is and it’s not like I won’t be getting information from other sources,” Rebecca said instead, stepping from behind Bill. “Tell me.”

Veronica wasn’t fazed at all by what she requested nor by the reference to other sources. “Very well. I would prefer it if Weasley were not here but…” She gave Bill a side-eye and smirked, a strange glint entering her eyes. “He can stay. It is a bit of a wild ride. The Slytherin who forged Snape’s signature is Merula Synde—“

Rebecca raised an eyebrow and cuts in. “The very same Synde who parades around, bragging about being the greatest witch to have ever come to Hogwarts?”

“Si si,” Veronica nodded. “She struck a deal with one Samuel Lockwood to team up and get rid of you. She was all on board when she finds out you were the one who soaked her in water, indirectly as it is, and formed a plan with Lockwood. They were not the best at being discreet, mind you. They left their plan on the table at the library.”

“Ah, so they’re dumb enough that they have to write the plan down, interesting.”

Veronica snorted. “My thoughts. Anyway, the plan.”

She held up a finger as she continued, and more as she goes. “Step 1) Murray purposely sabotages Synde’s potion and blames it on you. Step 2) Synde forges a letter from Snape telling you to bring him a jar of Pickled Slugs and direct you to what seems like the Potions Storeroom. Step 3) Sanders delivers the letter and gets the gullible Meadows to bring it to you. Step 4) Wait until you get in position, shove you inside, and lock the door. If all fails, wait until you are alone so they can corner you and bring you to position themselves, where you wrestle with a Devil’s Snare.”

Why am I so surprised? Rebecca sighed as she rubbed her face. “And why are they doing this?” She asked tiredly. Bill was silent. For what reason, she didn’t care.

Veronica shrugged. “They think you are a danger to Hogwarts just like your brother, and that none of us will be safe until you are gone.”

Rebecca didn’t have glance up to see that Bill’s face was contorted with rage, turning so red it clashed with his hair. A hand darted out and grabbed his arm before he can run off and give Lockwood and co a piece of his mind.

“Whatever you’re going to do, it’s not worth it,” she said. “I doubt they’re going to do something as drastic as before. Hagrid knows and you know and from what I’ve seen, they’re scared of you, enough that they will be discouraged from doing anything else. They’ll probably settle on simple irritating things, things that I can handle on my own.”

“She’s right, you know,” Veronica said, giving her infamous smirk that never reached her eyes. “You should be focusing on your studies instead of chasing after a few random idiots in your house, which is nothing new.”

“Shut up, Da Rosa,” Bill said, but it has no bite and it didn’t make her smirk fall off. In fact, it just made it widen.

“You know I’m right, Weasley,” Veronica said, still smirking. “Now,” she whips out a folder and brandishes it to Rebecca. “This is all the info I dug up on Snyde and others. You will need it. I am going to let you off for now but the next time you ask for information, I need you to do a favor for me.” She brushed past, purposely bumping her shoulder roughly against Bill’s. “Later.”

“...Is she always like this?” Rebecca asked slowly, looking up at him.

“You have no idea,” Bill grumbled as he rubbed his shoulder and glared after Veronica. “I don’t know why she’s helping you out, but every move she does has ulterior motives. It’ll be best if you watch yourself around her. She can’t be trusted.”

“I will,” she says. It may be a lie, it may not, but she has him convinced.

He smiles and ruffles her hair, making her freeze up. “That’s all I ask. Now, I should be heading back to the common room — my brother is probably worried, but if you need anything, give a shout.”

“Don’t do anything.”

“Who says I’m going to?” He gives her an innocent smile, before leaving. She touches her head slightly and sighs to herself. It’s been a while since she’s been touched without harmful intentions. Sure her mum did but…

Won’t be long before a bad day comes along.

Rebecca shakes her head and fingers through the folder, sharp eyes scanning page after page of her tormentors.

….oh.

How… interesting.

A slow smile spread over her face.

A daughter of two Death Eaters. A son of a crime lord. The other four are otherwise uninteresting but there’s info she can use anyway.

Problem is, how can she use it?

More importantly, where can she plan? Not just her revenge, but her brother’s disappearance and the Cursed Vaults. Maybe even her curse.

She can’t plan her revenge in the common room, Meadows is too nosy and Jane will notice immediately. Not to mention, she doubts Snyde and Lockwood are the first ones to think she’s a danger. Her housemates will probably get on her case.

There has to be something she can plan without anyone disturbing her…

She fingered through the folder again and feels a headache coming through,

Another thing to deal with all alone.

...

She glances over her shoulder, at Bill Weasley’s retreating figure, then to the whispering voices in her head and around her.

Maybe not so alone.

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #rebecca lord #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #hphm fanfic #hphm fic #hphm fanfiction #first year #year 1 #samuel lockwood #lilith meadows #jane court #chiara lobosca #bill weasley #veronica da rosa #hhh another chapter I struggled with dsfsdkfsdf

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masterthespianduchovny · 5 years

Text

Quora Question: Do You Think Most Severus Snape Fans Are Fair and Objective in Their Judgment of James Potter?

“If you are a hardcore fan of Harry Potter, hell, I’d argue if you are even one to begin with, it’s practically impossible to have a “fair and objective opinion.” You need to ask someone who has never read the books and give them certain information, and then have them answer.

“But, what about x, y, and z???”

Exactly.

What about it?

Now, you’re trying to tilt the scales in your favor because you know how that thing makes your fave look.

The issue cuts BOTH ways, which we see with HUGE James fans answering as if they aren’t incredibly biased themselves.

Now for me, I can’t speak for most, but I agree with most Snape fans.

Now, you’ll have many who wish readers will give James the benefit of the doubt because of what his friends said, but 1. They are biased 2. His friends are willing to put others in danger to protect each other (even as adults) 3. They participated in the behavior themselves and are trying to minimize the severity.

People claim that is unfair, but is it?

What’s unfair is to assume that our opinion of James is solely based on Snape and that we also only reserve our judgement for him.

I LOATHE bullying, it’s a huge issue for me, but not because I was personally bullied, which I wasn’t. But, aren’t you being a hypocrite? Snapes your favorite character. No. I can still hate Snape’s bullying tendencies and appreciate his character, but most importantly, I understand that his maladjusted behavior stems from childhood trauma. It doesn’t make his behavior *okay*, but it contextualizes his bitterness and hard edges for me. I can understand why someone may perpetuate the cycle of bullying in this case.

But, in the case of James, I cannot understand those who bully for fun—-those are some of the worst bullies to me. Especially if they are privileged, popular, and not wanting for anything. Especially when they pick on those they feel are beneath them and who are powerless.

But, James changed!

As a reader and a writer, Rowling did a pisspoor job of James’ transformation. It happened “off screen.” His friends lack credibility due to how close they are to the situation. And, for the record, I somewhat like Sirius and Remus and, no, this isn’t *another* instance of hypocrisy because they are actual characters, but my enjoyment of them suffers due to their bullying or passiveness as it happened.

The other thing is: my issue with them bullying isn’t *just* about Snape. They, especially James and Sirius, bullied other people. “Oh, but it was just hexing.” No, that doesn’t cut it. If you are repeatedly hexing people who do not want to be hexed, it’s bullying.

“*Snape gave as good as he got.”*

Being* *able* *to* *defend* *yourself* *doesn’t* *mean* *you* *weren’t bullied, it just means you could defend yourself. * *And* *this* *doesn’t even touch on he fact that he tortured Snape by having him choke on soap and sexually assaulted him via pulling down his underwear.

But, James changed after that!

1. When I was in high school, I had a “friend” tell me that he fantasized about raping me. I was disgusted and confused—-I tried to pivot and see if he meant sex and he said, “No, rape.” I bring this up to say, whether or not he’s actually committed rape, the fact that he vocalized this fantasy to me and stuck to his guns will always make me weary and suspicious of him. That being said, I will always side eye someone who bullies, tortures, and sexually assaults someone even when they’re kids, especially if it’s for “fun.”

2. We never hear anything about him apologizing to him *victims*. I don’t care if it’s just two, which at the very minimum it is, they deserve to be apologized to. To be more specific, we don’t hear about James feeling remorse for his actions. People like to say that James is similar to Sirius and Sirius is a good person, well, Sirius actually doesn’t regret what he did to Snape and still resorts to childish nicknames and taunts as well as harming Snape when given the chance. How can anyone argue James deserves the benefit of the doubt without accounting for his victims. His fans are so obsessed with him “changing”, but not too much because he still has his “rivalry” behind Lily’s back, messes with muggle officers for fun, and *adds* to a rift between lily and her sister, but what about those he harmed? They still have to live with he trauma that doesn’t go away over night. Bullied victims carry this shit for years, but yes, let’s focus on James’ road to improvement. That’s *more* important. :)

Some people may know this, but I’m black. I bring this up to say, I went to school with kids who thought it was “fun” and “cool” to be racist even if they didn’t say the “n” word, even if they didn’t believe the crap they said. I went to school with kids, like a handful, who turned to nazism not because they hated black people, but they were powerless and wanted to belong. On a general principle, I disliked them, but you know who I hated more: fucking bullies.

Them motherfuckers never said shit to me and always whispered shit under their breaths, but my friend was terrorized all throughout high school and even said he wanted to blow the school up because he felt so helpless. Clearly, he didn’t and he wasn’t serious, but his bullying was *so* bad, he flirted with the idea that that was a solution for him. After he graduated, life became better because he got away from his tormentors. And I bet his bullies “improved” and their friends would say they’re great people, but despite my friend’s life improving, he still has to unpack what years of bullying did to him.

That’s the other reason why I can’t be “fair and objective.”

“But, what about Snape bullying his students???”

Like, I said, he has bullying tendencies, which isn’t right. But, I’ve had my fair share of mean, asshole, and unfair teachers. I’ve also had some I unfairly judged because I was a young kid/teen.

Literally none of the students Snape taught that we know of were traumatized by his behavior.

But, Neville!

Neville was afraid of his own shadow. He already came from a suspect background where he was almost killed just to see if he had magic. By the end of the story none of the kids we know of are scarred by Snape. Now that doesn’t mean he didn’t bully anyone, but me pointing out how much people exaggerate his behavior.

Lastly, I support minorities, the disenfranchized, and other discriminated groups, such as: disabled folks, the poor, LBGTQ community, sex workers, immigrants, etc.

When I see a privileged, rich person who wants for nothing picking on others because he can, there is no “fair and objective.” People say since he was spoiled he didn’t learn appropriate boundaries. Boo fucking hoo. In the mean time, he made other lives hell. Then, he got off basically scotfree with a great legacy to boot!

His sins are supposed to be erased because his friends said he changed and he died young? He showed no signs of regretting what he did or apologizing to his victims. If we are supposed to believe he changed because his friends said so, why didn’t they mention that he apologized and felt guilty for his past behavior? Those are important steps too!

And not even his friends can fully admit what they did back then.

What we do know is “he got his head out of his ass”, by not hexing people randomly and got the girl he’s been chasing for a while…

Well, I guess that wasn’t my last point!

A point I forgot to make, I don’t care that he didn’t actually hex her. The fact that as he was *in* *the* *process* of bullying Snape, he leveraged leaving Snape alone with a date. This is fucking *repulsive*. People say, “he only did it because she threatened to hex him.” So fucking what! He was bullying her friend at the time, and then threatened her for intervening as well as he tried to get a date out of it. So you have this guy bullying her friend, and then wants to be *rewarded* for doing the right thing.

But, lily said no!

What if she didn’t, huh? What if she said yes because she felt like it was her only play because, “James hexes everyone, why not me too?”

But, again, the fact that he even went there is downright appalling.

So, to sum up, we have a privileged, rich kid who bullied others along with his friends, sexually assaulted a kid, tried to coerce a date out of a girl he liked as he bullied her friend, and besides hearing that he decreased in hexing people, we do not see his redemptive journey nor hear/read about him apologizing or expressing regret, yet I’m supposed to be “fair and objective.”

Another point I forgot to make, James can sympathize with Sirius who was disowned by his family or whatever and protect/befriend Remus because of his condition, but he draws his lines at poor boys who wanted to go to slytherin because of what is being said about them. I mean, much was said about werewolves too. I guess if you don’t share his views, you didn’t deserve his sympathy.”

So, very long answer short: if any Snape fans are like me and either identify with Snape’s experience and/or care about groups discriminated against, I mean truly care and not this performantivd crap, most wont be able to give a “fair and objective” judgment on James.

#severus snape #snape #snapedom

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avengers-nextgen · 5 years

Text

The Aftermath IX

“Drew’s memory was recovered,” Enzo noted, breaking the silence at last.

“Is she happy?” Max asked, arching a brow.

“Yes, I like to think so,” Enzo nodded. Silence settled once more between the old friends. “She’s trying to sort through everything. Come to terms with all that happened.”

“Would she remember me?”

“Yes,” Enzo assured, “she remembers everyone she’s met so far. She even hugged Harper. It was good...but strange.”

“And, Bianca?” Max asked hesitantly, “does she have any resentment?”

“No,” Enzo shook his head, “she’s happy for Drew. If anyone knows the pain of being brainwashed it’s Bianca. She wouldn’t want Drew to suffer just because she can’t have any memories. Bianca’s not like that. She’s got a good heart.”

“I’ve been told,” Max smiled thinly. “Well, I’m glad everything’s worked out for her. Drew, I mean. As for Bianca, I am sorry.”

“I know,” Enzo sighed, “you’ve said it twelve times.”

“No one believes me.”

“I do,” Enzo promised. “I know when you’re lying. You were always bad at it.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Max smiled. “Miss Melroy was so gullible.”

“She was,” Enzo laughed, “you told her your cat ate your homework even though you wrote an essay on how your father was allergic to cats just the week before- so you couldn’t have one.”

“It was a good fabrication,” Max grinned, tilting their head slightly. Enzo noticed just how long his friend’s hair had gotten. It tumbled about in odd combinations of blonde waves and curls.

“That was when things were easier,” Enzo’s smile faded ever so slightly. “You know, Bianca loves hockey.”

“She does?”

“Yeah,” Enzo recalled her original introduction to the sport. The way she got excited after every check or amazing save. Back when Bianca and Max had been friends. “Maybe it’s a good place to start patching things up.”

“Enzo,” Max frowned, “She’s not going to want anything to do with me and I don’t blame her. I hurt her horribly. She can’t walk because of me.”

“That’s quitter’s talk,” Enzo waved Max’s words aside, “because the Bianca I know is very understanding and forgiving. She’d come around.”

“From what I’ve heard everyone just wants to hurt me,” Max countered.

“Who told you that?” Enzo arched a brow.

“Your sister,” Max mumbled. “Personally I’m inclined to believe her.”

“That’s just my sister,” Enzo frowned, grasping the bars to Max’s cell, “she likes to bully people. She doesn’t understand you. She’s a hypocrite if you ask me.”

“Enzo,” Max glowered. They’d only ever heard Enzo gush about his sister, and now he was talking as if he despised her.

“Max,” Enzo crouched low, drawing up eye level to wear Max sat upon the floor, “you don’t know her like I do. She’s no different from you. She was in a cell worse than this. Chained up because she was dangerous. She manipulated everyone here, stabbed Director Fury, and nearly killed a bunch of people on some vengeance mission she roped Bianca into. What’s worse, they offered her a place here and she just vanished. She always does when things get tough. She’s a coward. She turns her back on people without remorse.”

“She’s probably scared. I know I am. I’m scared of a lot. And you may not want to hear this,” Max spoke sternly, “but I don’t like the way you’re talking. You never would have said those things when-“

“Things are different now,” Enzo insisted, “and my point is...she can’t write you off as a lost cause when she was one too. It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Enzo,” Max frowned, “and maybe she’s trying to protect you.”

“From what? From you? What could you possibly do-“

“I can do many things,” Max warned, “and I have. I have hurt people because I can’t control my emotions very well. I’m passionate to a fault. When I get angry...I hurt people because I don’t know what else to do. I am dangerous and she sees that. Maybe better than you give her credit for.”

“So now you’re defending my sister?” Enzo stammered. “Why? She’s done nothing but humiliate you.”

“She’s been honest with me. She told me the reality of my situation and the consequences of my actions. I have to deal with that now!” Max snapped.

Enzo studied his friend closely. Saw the conflict in their eyes, saw the confusion, the loneliness, and the pain. “You’re just overwhelmed. That’s all. You’ll be fine. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

With that, Enzo left the cell block behind and ventured back to the main part of the tower. Everyone was still elated over Scout’s success with Drew. Smiles were flashed with little prompting, joy emanated from every person, and the atmosphere was one of wonder, excitement, and love.

“Where’d you run off to?” Arthur asked, slinging an arm about Enzo’s shoulders, “You’re missing some crazy stories from the Space family.”

“I was just taking care of business. That’s all,” Enzo shrugged. Arthur pursed his lips in thought as the youngest boy wandered off.

“He okay?” Penny asked, bounding over with Drew’s battle axe.

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, “but where’d you get that?”

“I asked if I could look at it,” Penny grinned, heaving the weapon up to rest on her shoulder. “I like it.”

“I prefer your little blasters,” Arthur remarked making little ‘pew pew’ noises, “I’m less likely to be decapitated.”

“Please, end me with something as dramatic as decapitation,” Chloe replied dryly, albeit with a tiny smile.

“If only I could lift it,” Penny grunted, “to head level.”

“Okay kids, put the axe away before we all die,” Nathaniel frowned, quickly collecting the weapon from Penny who was teetering back on her heels in danger of falling over.

“Not joining them?” A familiar voice caught Enzo’s attention from where he lingered against the back wall watching his friends and Penny’s struggle to wield the axe. “What for?”

“Not in the mood,” Enzo replied, sparing his sister little more than a glance.

“Understandable,” Sage nodded, scooping Salem up from the floor. The stupid cat had horrible depth perception because of its single eye, and Enzo had been on the receiving end of a few missed jumps before. “You missed Dad. He left.”

“I know,” Enzo shrugged. “He was going to anyways.”

“I just figured you were closer to him...maybe you wanted a minute or two,” Sage frowned, studying her younger brother. She wasn’t used to this type of callousness from him. “Couldn’t find you though.”

“I was talking to Max.” Raising his head, Enzo finally looked properly at his sister. There was little reaction on her part but he could tell she was trying hard to remain unreadable. There was a tightness in her features, a quiet tension.

“Ah,” Sage nodded, as Salem clambered about her shoulders. “What’d they say?”

“Nothing important.”

“Alright.”

“Just that you decided to pay him a visit. That you were quite the bully.” Enzo’s tone was rather cold.

“I’m sorry they feel that way.” Though her tone was controlled, Enzo noticed a muscle twitch in her jaw and a slight narrowing of the eyes.

“You’re not. I know you’re not, and I know you don’t care.” Pressing his lips into a thin line, Enzo made a path through the crowd back towards his room. He knew Sage would follow, but he wanted her too. They’d be more likely to go at it away from public view.

In fact, Enzo couldn’t quite explain it, but he wanted to get a rise out of her. Behind him Sage left Salem to search for affection elsewhere as she continued to follow her brother.

“What’s gotten into you?” The question slipped free as soon as Sage stepped safely into Enzo’s room. “You’re distant, rude, and frankly being a jerk.”

“I’m trying to help a friend. Okay? Max isn’t a bad person. You just won’t try to look at them any differently,” Enzo frowned, sitting on his bed with care.

“Enzo, we’ve been over this. I have nothing to say to Max that I haven’t already said. I’m protecting my family-“

“From what? Someone locked up in a cell? Someone confused by their powers?” Enzo demanded, eyes smarting with a foreign fire. “What can Max do from their?”

“People can do a lot of things from a cell,” Sage warned.

“You would know, right? I almost forgot you were in the same position as Max.” Enzo laughed but it wasn’t the warm sound people had come to love.

“Our situations are very different.”

“How?”

“Max had a support system. Max had opportunities I never got. They chose their path. They had options,” But even as she spoke Sage could tell Enzo wasn’t convinced. “They had you. I had myself.”

“You had a support system but you abused it. You’ve done far worse than anything Max has. You manipulated Bianca, you manipulated Alex, you stabbed Fury, you took your anger out on Thalia for what Thor did, you turn your back on people the moment things get tough. You’ve hurt countless people and somehow you’ve gotten off scott free. So, you have no right to judge someone who’s made one mistake. Your ledger is far worse,” Enzo stood, nearly as tall as his sister now. He’d hit a growth spurt that had yet to subside and the height comparison was suddenly unnerving. He wasn’t a little kid anymore.

“I almost died for you. For everyone here when those damn soldiers got hold of vibranium. My ledger is clean,” Sage spoke softly never once breaking eye contact with her brother. “And I know you hate me for fighting Max but I wasn’t going to sit by while they killed my friend. You can’t ask that of me. Besides, you made our standings clear. You don’t love me and I see you weren’t lying. What I can’t understand is how you care so much about that kid.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re used to being the person with everyone fawning over them. You don’t see how painful it is when someone you care about is hurting. You don’t know how hard it is not to pity someone like you. In fact, maybe the only reason Alex likes you is because she feels bad for you.”

“That’s not true.”

“How would you know? Have you asked? Do you even bother to spend time with her? Or do you find excuses like you do with me? Because if someone played mind games with me the way you used to with her, I’d question what constitutes love in that relationship,” Enzo watched as Sage broke eye contact at last. He’d won. He’d made his stance very clear to her. He was going to do whatever it took to make sure Max got a fresh start whether she approved or not.

“You have no idea what love is,” Sage spoke barely loud enough for him to hear, “you’re just a little boy who thinks they understand things they don’t.”

“I do know what love is,” Enzo scoffed, “but you wouldn’t know that.”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me. I know that’s what this is about,” For the first time in the argument Enzo lost his grasp on having the upper hand. “Tell me you love them and get it over with. Tell me so I know. So I can stay out of the picture.”

“I-“Enzo stammered searching for words he wasn’t sure he wanted to speak. He hadn’t expected this from her. Hadn’t thought she’d even guess...

“That’s all,” Sage nodded. “Okay. That’s...okay.”

He never finished the sentence before she left his room behind. Instead, Enzo was left to stand stalk still as if the rug had been pulled out from under him and somehow he hadn’t toppled over.

#avengers #avengers next gen #marvel #black widow #captain america #mcu #natasha romanoff #pepper potts #romanogers #scarlet witch #theaftermath #the aftermath #phase3 #sage #enzo #sage laufeyson #enzo laufeyson

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101itm · 6 years

Text

Why I Think Social Media is Bad for Your Mental Health

I know what you’re thinking. You’re writing this on tumblr, a social media outlet. Haha, jokes on you, it’s the most non-social media outlet I know. But I share these on my finsta and you’re probably thinking “ummm hypocrite.” I mostly only go on to share these posts and check up on celebrities I like. (Although night tweeting is a bad habit of mine lol)

But man oh man it’s so bad for your mental health.

Like, I really think your self esteem has a lot to do with your mental state. I think people with high self esteem tend to be in a better state of mind than someone with a low self esteem. And social media makes people with low self esteem feel even worse.

I’ll give a personal example. I hate my body, I hate the way I look, I genuinely don’t like looking at myself which is obvious because I never post on my real instagram. Every once in a while I feel kinda pretty and I post a picture on snapchat, and then I hate it a few hours later. So going on social media and looking at beautiful people with beautiful bodies is hard. That’s not to say those people shouldn’t post those pictures—I think if you’re confident in your appearance you should post about it as much as you want and shouldn’t be judged for it. No, it’s a personal problem that people with low self esteem need to figure out how to fix. Do what they need to do to feel better about themselves and not let other people’s posts make them feel bad.

People wonder why I delete twitter and instagram for months at a time, but that’s just it. My solution to my problem is to delete social media so I can take time to fix what I don’t like about myself and get into a healthy mindset.

And of course I’m sure we’ve all heard the term “Instant Gratification” often used my middle aged people to demonize younger generations for using social media (sorry, irrelevant, but it pisses me off). Post notifications for social media cause Instant Gratification—it’s a real thing. Ever notice your heart beat harder when you get a notification that someone liked your picture? Yeah, that—something some researchers have compared to getting high. It gives you that much happiness. Seriously, that’s insane!

However the issue with that is that inevitably when you post something less people will like or reshare it. One post can get hundreds of likes and the next only ten. So you won’t get as much instant gratification on those lesser posts. And that is terrible for your self esteem. Especially if you’re already someone who’s not very confident, getting less likes on something makes you think people don’t like you. That’s not the case. Some people won’t see your post because they follow so many people. Some people just won’t like it, or will scroll past. That doesn’t mean everyone suddenly hates you.

So when I do have social media, I tend to turn off my notifications. It’s why if you have me on snapchat, facebook, or instagram and you try to reach out to me you will not hear back for days at a time. I think post notifications are stupid, and I don’t want to rely on social media to dictate how I feel every day.

Now I think some people will read this and get genuinely angry. People LOVE social media. I get it! I love twitter. I hate pretty much everything else recently, but I love twitter.

(Meme town truly)

Don’t get mad! I’m not saying that social media is bad. I think social media is a wonderful idea that we tend to use the wrong way. I think it’s great for checking up on your friends and family you haven’t spoken to in a while and it’s great for sharing your ideas and spreading awareness for things you care about. I just think that we rely too much on it. We let social media dictate how we feel, how our day is going to go. Not to mention people can and will use it to bully people (i.e. The post on twitter where someone posted something about pedophiles and how love is love). People use it to piss people off and they get off on that. So don’t give them the power. You don’t like what someone’s posting? Unfollow them. You don’t like what someone is saying to you? Block them. If that person takes personal offense then that is not your problem. Nobody should get offended that someone unfollowed them for having different views.

Do not let people and social media tell you how you should feel. You know yourself, don’t lose sight of who you are.

Also, to people with anxiety:

You don’t have to reshare something because “it’ll give you bad luck if you don’t” or “you’re a bad person if you don’t” people are trying to manipulate people like you (and me—people who are superstitious and anxious about how things will play out all the time). They want to use you for likes. You will not get good luck because you shared someone’s massive paycheck and that girl from the grudge will not come into your room in the middle of the night just because you didn’t share something. This is a major downfall of social media and people that try to manipulate and prey on people for likes and reshares are low lives who have nothing better to do.

It’s going to be okay! Social media has no effect on your real life unless you let it. Use social media in a way that’ll keep you healthy and happy.

P.S. Sorry for like the week and a half wait! I’m packing to move into my dorm this Sunday and I’ve been so incredibly stressed. I haven’t cried from the stress yet, but I might just get there. Wish me luck!

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viernes12diligence · 3 years

Photo

Huge Insecurities of a Petite Lady

· Scene 1:

Althea was the eldest of the three siblings. She is currently studying as a HUMSS senior high school student. It will be a few months before Althea finally graduates and go to college. Even so, she don’t know and still confuse on what course will she take in college. She has a lot of questions and worries that need to be answered.

Althea: (looking herself in the mirror and made a deep breath of disappointment) I look small with this outfit, argh! It made me more look like a 12 years old kid! (starts undressing)

Aunt Vanessa: (enters the room) Hey! What are you doing?

Althea: Styling myself not to look like a teenager (looking for other clothes in the closet) oh there! I think this will fit me.

Aunt Vanessa: (laughing) What do you mean teenager? Girl you look like a kid, an elementary girl be like (continues at laughing).

Althea: (roll her eyes) Very funny.

Aunt Vanessa: Oh! That clothes fit on you.

Althea: Oh really? (looks herself at the mirror)

Aunt Vanessa: But you still look like a kid because you are so small.

Althea: (her smile melted in disappointment) Thank you for being honest tita, It really helps me a lot (smile sarcastically and leave the room)

· Scene 2

Althea was busy washing the dishes with her cousin Philip, they were talking random stuff while doing their duties. Evangelyn, Althea’s mother and Aunt Vanessa are watching and talking about them. Althea began the eavesdrop the sister’s conversation about them while washing the dishes.

Evangelyn: Look at them, can you see how Althea is so short?

Aunt Vanessa: (laughing) Althea is like a Bonsai plant, she become more smaller when she is near to Philip.

Evangelyn: Now I can’t imagine my daughter having a boyfriend in the future. (chuckles)

Philip: (chuckles) Can you hear what they are talking about?

Althea: I am not deaf, yes I can clearly hear what they are saying about me. (she takes the washed casserole)

Philip: (holds the casserole that Althea’s holding) Let me.

Althea: Nah I can put it back by myself so no thanks~

Philip: I don’t think so… you can’t reach it because you are so short to reach the cupboard. (started laughing)

Althea: (grabs the casserole) Watch me putting this casserole to the cupboard.

Philip: (clapping his hands) Oh wow! You can reach it good girl~ (starts patting her head)

Althea: Of course I can reach it duh! (irritated and frowning) and stop that I’m not a kid!

Aunt Vanessa: Hey are you two fighting?

Philip: Nope! We are not fighting she is just mad, you know usually small people has anger management issues so I think that’s normal. (shrugged his shoulder)

Althea: (slightly punched his arms)

Aunt Vanessa: You’re like Onanay.

- Onanay is from a telenovela series who is a mother with a dwarfism condition. This made Althea feel so mad because she is indeed short but being called by that named also means she has a dwarfism though she is not. She felt insulted.

Althea: (trying to calm herself not to cry in front of them by remaining in silent) There! I’m done washing the frying pan just dry it Im going upstair.

· Scene 3

Althea go upstairs and go at the bathroom. She locked the door to make sure no one will come inside and see her. She took a deep breath and after that a tears burst out from her eyes. Her aunts and mother keep on saying that it is just a joke so don’t take it serious but still, she feel so bad every time they made a joke about her height. How insensitive they are, they don’t know that her insecurities are starting to be worse than before.

Althea: (she undress and look at her nakedness in the mirror) Do I really look like a kid?

Althea: I am already 18 years old so my body should look mature but… yeah I have curves but my height is so short even my breast is so small. Argh! Why do I look like this?! I am not tall like the others, I’m also not pretty and I am not smart so why?!

Althea: I am not even talented so what is something special to me? With this look will they accept me in college? I think… I think… I think they will make fun of me once I enter college because I am so short.

Althea: I want to be a lawyer someday but… … … (took a deep breath) aside from the fact that it is hard to enter law school maybe they will just bully and laugh at me. (hugged herself)

Althea: I feel so cold, is there a bright future waiting for me? I don’t see anything special about me. I don’t know anything anymore. (looks herself at the mirror) What is your purpose in this world? Do you have? Do I? (starts laughing)

Althea: Now I am talking to myself gosh! I am starting to be crazy.

(Someone knocks the door)

Evangelyn: I’m gonna take a bath too, make it faster.

Althea: 1 minute. (starts wearing her clothes because she already took a bath.)

· Scene 4

They decided to go at the mall not to entertain themselves but to buy some groceries because they are already out of stock. Althea was with her cousins and younger brother. They wear some face mask and face shield to protect themselves because there is the pandemic. They were about to enter the mall when the guard blocked Althea.

Guard: How old are you?

Althea: (raise her eyebrows) Ammm I am already 18 sir.

Guard: Awww okay. Are you-

Althea: (she took her I.D) See? I’m already in my senior high school sir so I am not bluffing. (the guard finally let her enter the mall)

Prymt: Awww that sad the guard thought that you are a kid (laughing)

Philip: We are younger than you but they didn’t block us hahahahha

Dustine: When you get close to us you look like you are the youngest among us though you are the second oldest one here.

Althea: So?

Dustine: Nothing, its funny how the guard ask your age, its like he don’t wants to believe you.

Philip: Yeah, he was not convinced because he sees you as a kid hahahha

Althea: Just shut up if you guys just going to insult me for being short.

Prymt: C’mon! It’s just a joke you know, no need to take it serious.

Vryce: Hey! Stop it I think she is already mad.

Dustine: I think it is okay to be small because they look cute right sister?

Althea: Whatever! Let’s go to the hypermarket so that we can buy what we need to buy.

They buy all the stuffs they need and after that they go home immediately. At first Althea wants to roam around the mall to entertain herself because she also missed to go out but because of what happen to her awhile ago, her her mood suddenly changed. She wants to go home immediately.

· Scene 5

Althea took a deep breath and soaked her body in the bath tub, she slowly lay down and dipped her head under the water. While sinking under the water she heard a strange voice. Ironically, she always hear this strange voice.

Strange voice: So what brings you here again?

Althea: I don’t know, I feel lonely yet I want to be alone.

Strange voice: I guess you just miss me?

Althea: Yeah… … … I miss someone but not you.

Strange voice: That’s sweet~ who might be?

Althea: I miss my dad, he was the only one who can boost my confidence… … he don’t make fun about my short height so I really miss him. (started crying)

Strange voice: Poor you.

Althea: Why am I like this? How can I appreciate myself? There is nothing special about me! I am short, I am ugly, I am not smart enough, I’m not even talented so what am I?!

Strange voice: (slaps Althea) Now look at yourself in the mirror. (holds Althea’s chin to face the mirror.)

Althea: (hey eyes widen as she see two Althea in the mirror) What-

Strange voice: Who do you see in the mirror?

Althea: M-me?

Strange voice: Who am I?

Althea: M-me?

Strange voice: So don’t you dare insult yourself!

Althea: No I’m not!

Strange voice: Yes you are! You know what… … … you are right, you are not insulting yourself you’re insulting your parents, your father!

Althea: Why would I do that to him? No I’m not!

Strange voice: He is your father in flesh and blood, without him you will not exist. He did all his best to feed and raise you! He died working for you to continue your studies so that you can have a brighter future but now look at yourself--

Althea: Enough!

Strange voice: No! You listen! They are already insulting you yet you are also insulting yourself! Do you have no pity on yourself? Underestimating yourself is no different in being ashamed to your own parents, especially your deceased father! How hypocrite you are Althea!

Althea: I said enough! (covering her both ears)

Strange voice: Instead of underestimating yourself why don’t you prove them wrong? Prove them that you are just small in looks but you are hiding something big that can make you powerful, a power that will help you to reach those dreams. Listen to me everyone has a gift, you also have a gift you’re just not opening it. Everyone in this world are special and has a purpose.

Althea: Who are you? (confused)

Strange voice: I am not your enemy Althea, I am just helping you because I am the only one who will stay beside you when you feel alone. Just learn to love yourself, be contented on what you have.

Strange voice: (the voice started to change into a man’s voice) Be happy with the little things you have because there are some people with nothing who still manage to smile. Believe in yourself my child I believe in you~

Althea: Dad? (Opens her eyes wide and gasping) *the water from the bath tub splashed because she panicked

Althea: Okay! That was weird, what was that? (still gasping)

Althea roam her ayes around and realized she was still in the bath tub. She didn’t really dipped her head in the water. She just lean her head against the wall and relaxing her soaked body in the bath tub, she just took a nap and while taking a nap her head slipped and slowly sank in the bath tub. She almost drowned by doing that thankfully she awaked.

This scenario in Althea’s life is normal since her dad die. That is the new usual way of coping up her weakness. She doesn’t open herself to others anymore because she knows that they will only judge her even her relatives. She tried to open up to her relative but none of them satisfies Althea like her father’s advice. Hope that one day those huge insecurities will be overcome by a petite girl named Althea.

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚘 𝙸𝚝?

Warm water from a bath tub with bubbles in it. The faucet is dripping making some noise to break the quite surrounding of a bathroom. She open her eyes wide open and gasped out of breath. Althea take a nap while soaking herself in the bath tub, her head slipped and sank in the water. She nearly got drowned because of that. “Okay? That was weird, what was that?” Althea said while gasping. She tilted her head remembering and figuring it out if she made dream or she is just hallucinating for unknown reason. She don’t use any drugs so maybe its just a dream. Dreaming about her father again. “Hmmm 145cm? No progress at all” Althea said with a disappointed tone. She measures herself using the tape measure from her grandma. She is currently drinking some supplements and height enhancer hoping that there is still a chance for her to grow taller. But she is already 18 years old and she can’t accept the fact that she is just 4’9 feet tall. “Young lady what are doing there?” Her grandma appear out of nowhere that made Althea jumped of surprised. “Ammm I’m just… I’m just measuring my height”, Althea admitted embarrassedly. “Oh dear just accept what God gave to you”, her grandma said. “I am just worried grandma”, Althea took a deep breath. “If I will take a job will they accept me? What if they don’t, what if…” “Just stop overthinking dear if you want then go for it nothing is impossible” her grandma advised. “What do you want to take in college? Why are you doubting like that about your height? Do you want to be a flight attendant? Not bursting the bubbles but if that is your dream sorry but height does matter to that kind of job” her grandma added. “No I don’t dream of becoming a flight attendant because that would be so impossible” Althea laughed because of that. “Then what job do you want in the future?” her grandma asked. “I don’t know” Althea reply with a sad tone. “That is impossible I know you want something don’t be shy what is it”, her grandma asked again “I don’t know anymore” Althea reply. “I’m sorry grandma for asking non sense questions I think I need some rest” Althea added. “Oh sure sweetie, make sure to have some rest and stop overthinking okay?” her grandma kissed her in the cheeks and take her cat Miya. Althea throw herself in the bed and stare at the ceiling. Althea took a deep breath and get her laptop. She googled ‘Does height matters?’, and a lot of articles appear. She try to read them all but non of them helps her and answer her doubts, she still keep on thinking if height matters in getting some job. “Answering some module? You seemed so serious about the article you are reading”, Vryce, her younger cousin asked. “Yeah”, Althea lied and hid the laptop as she realized that her cousin is also reading the article that she is reading. But its too late. “Gosh what are searching in google? You’re so funny”, Vryce laugh that made Althea blushed of embarrassment. Vryce is 5 years younger that Althea but she is quite more taller than her. Althea can’t deny the fact that she envies her cousin for being so tall. She can’t stop herself comparing herself to her cousin. Everytime they go out some of their friends were all confused because they always thought that Vryce is older than Althea. Althea will just smile and pretend that she is not offended but deep inside she wanted to hide and regretting that she go out with her cousins. Althea loves to hang out with her cousins but she hates it when they are going out, she prefer to stay inside of the house than going out. Althea look at Vryce face down to her body. ‘At the age of 13 she has a good body shape, what if she already turned 18 like me, maybe she will be a gorgeous lady in the future. Maybe she will be more prettier than me’ Althea spaced out a moment staring at her cousin blankly. Vryce snaps her finger to call Althea’s attention. “Hey! Are you okay?” Vryce asked. “Nothing”, Althea clear her throat. Althea decided to go downstairs and have some snacks. These past few days she feel unmotivated. There’s are bunch of modules to passed and some of them are already miss to their due dates but Althea didn’t do anything. She hates herself for procrastinating those works but she feel empty. Everytime she tries to answer those modules her mind suddenly become blank. “How are you my child? Do you have any class today?” Her mother asked. “Nothing and I have many due dates to finished”, Althea answer. “Do all your best okay? So that you can have a better job in the future”, her mom cheer her up. “Study hard so that you can be scholar from the school you want, you know that your dad who is the bread winner of the family is already gone, I don’t have any job too” her mom added that made Althea nod. This is also one of the reason why she feel unmotivated. She feel pressure knowing that she is the eldest child of the family. They are expecting her to be a scholar someday because they say that she is smart and a studios student. She always have an excellent remarks in her grades. That is what they see about Althea but in Althea’s point of view she is nothing. She feel that she is not really that smart, that those grades she gets are just nothing. She feel she don’t deserve those grades she gets because she is not really that outstanding student. She is not the best, she is just doing what it should be done, passing the requirements that they need. Her mom’s instinct kicked in so she softly strokes the hair of her daughter. “You are my daughter I know what you are thinking, we believe in you, just pray to God and be diligent. Hardworking is the key, there is no need to be smart if you are lazy. Always remember the work is in man, mercy is in God” Her mother lecture her and came closer to her. “You’re dad is already gone but always remember that he will always beside us. He is gone but he never leave us” her mom hugged her that made Althea cry. “I’m sorry mom”, Althea cried. “Why are you saying sorry?” her mom laugh. “For being selfish and thinking that you guys don’t help me”, Althea reply. “How mean I am to think that you don’t love me for being like this” Althea added while crying. “What do you mean?”, her mom asked with a confuse tone.“ Nothing mom, thank you” Althea hugged her mom tightly “Stop crying my child, they say crying makes you ugly”. Her mom chuckled. Althea checked her to do list in google classroom. Althea’s face winced as she saw that she has 4 missing in her to do list. She face palm and look at the time, it’s already 9 p.m. “Oh gosh! What have you done Althea?” Althea shakes her head with disappointment. “This is not me, probably if dad is still alive he will be upset too” Althea talks to herself. “Okay time to rush up these things” Althea stretched her arms and drink a mug of hot chocolate. She open her Microsoft office and started to do her modules. Whether she like it or not in the end of the day she needs to pass these requirements to her teachers or else she will fail this 2 nd quarter. Althea can’t fail because all of her relatives are helping each other to support them 3 siblings to continue their studies without their father. All of her relatives believed in her and have their trust to her that she can make it. Will she? Well let’s find out in the future

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 6 years

Note

You're so honest and clear so let me ask you this? What do you genuinely think about Liam saying he doesn't vote or get involved in politics cause he feels 16 about it? Do you think there is a chance that might change?

Thanks anon. I held onto this a long time, because I’m trying to think about silence and speech and what it means to expect political speech from people. I thought this made a good follow-on from the ask from yesterday about Louis praising Stormzy’s performance.

At 16, Liam knew nothing about politics. At that age, like a lot of kids, he had no access to a political view of the world. As he says in the Attitude interview, his parents didn’t talk about how they voted (which is a particular sort of class and political culture. Although the odds are they voted Labour). If he hadn’t gone through on X-factor, if he’d worked in a factory or become a firefighter he might have learned. He might have joined a union. He might have got into conversation with his friends in the pub and developed his analysis with his peers.

He was never going to have any chance to do any of that in One Direction. And he didn’t have a starting point. It’s easy enough to learn things if you have a framework to hook them on, but if you have to build the base it’s much harder.

He was around political people. Niall, Lou T, Ben Winston and Mark Jarvis all have very defined world views. But how was he to pick between them? I know tumblr is very fond of the idea that everyone should educate themselves (and there are times when that's an impotant and apprpriate response), but conversation and experience are such important ways to learn - and a lot of people just aren’t going to learn about the world if those two ways are taken awy from them.

I don’t think there’s any shame in any of that. I don’t think there’s any shame in coming from the background he did. I don’t think there’s any shame in struggling to make sense of politics from the strange bubble that is One Direction.

***********

I have two more political points to make - partly to explain why I think there’s no shame and partly to tease out the implications of their being no shame.

Shaming people for what they don’t know, or for not having participated in politics before is a terrible political strategy (as well as often being not cool for a number of other reasons). Lets talk US electoral politics (not my political home turf by any means, but something that lots of people know something about) - everything you’ve been told about who voted how during the election is wrong. 52% of white women didn’t vote for Trump - 52% of white women who voted, voted for Trump - somewhere between 30% and 40% of white women didn’t vote at all. Who knows why they are alienated from politics (most reasons people are alienated from politics are totally valid), but from a strategy point of view the last thing you want to do is make those people feel bad. You want to give them the tools they need so they will vote next time.

And here’s the thing (and I say this a lot about 1D) - Liam isn’t going to see anything that is said about his politics on tumblr. The people who might see it are various people who are like him - who are confused and uncertain and don’t (for perfectly valid reasons) don’t understand politics. If you talk about him in disparaging terms you are dismissing the possibility of reaching them. And that does real harm.

**********

Then there’s the other bit I’m trying to untangle - what are the implications of demanding political speech from celebrities? There is this idea that everyone must speak on everything important and to stay silent is some sort of statement. Usually I hate this (in fact this idea has lead me to near silence on several social media platforms) - performative opinions are not useful politically and they don’t help change the world. They’re not agitating, educating or organising. Pressure on celebrities (and in fact on everyone) to speak ends up hiding those who have done the work, who have something to say, as much more bland messages from people who don’t really know what they’re talking about will crowd out the specificity of people who know where they stand.

And yet, if you looked at this tumblr on 7-9 June 2017 (because of timezones) - you would get a very different picture. You would read me very much having expectations that 1D speak about the British election and judging them for their silence (with partial credit for Harry making it clear that you should vote Labour by the enthusiasm that he talked about voting).

In the aftermath of my very strong feelings about the election, I tried to figure out if I was a hypocrite. Was there something special about the UK election that meant that suddenly it was OK to judge people for not speaking out? I mean obviously there was a lot special about the UK election last year, but everything that has any political meaning is special.

I am probably a bit of a hypocrite - but more importantly I think is how things are framed. I’m old fashioned and I think there’s a huge difference between ‘I want One Direction to be the sort of people who will say ‘vote Labour’ when Labour is running on a platform of socialism’ and ‘One Direction should say vote Labour and I’m going to tell them so.’ But of course social media has collapsed the distance between wanting a celebrity to do something and pressuring a celebrity to do something.

I think it’s ridiculous to want a 24 year old who has no political world view to make political statements. Sometimes you’ll get quite charming ideas about Jefferson and transgender troops, but you’re just as likely to get nonsense. What you might want is that that 24 year old get together with his most on to it friends, harnessed his good anti-bullying instincts and learned about the world.

And that’s the social media celebrity conundrum. Because what I wanted on election day was for members of 1D to be people who wanted to make political statements. But because there’s no fourth wall, there’s no way to express that desire that isn’t in some way pressure on the people they actually are to make political statements.

#To answer your other question #of course it might change some day #I think Trump might be quite politicisnig for Liam #and we've seen that already with the the transgender troops tweet #Liam understands bullying #and that's actually a really good starting point for him develop his analysis of politcs #Anonymous #how to be a fan in a social media age without pressuring people to be a certain way #is the great conundrum #I welcome any suggestions

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morfiction · 4 years

Text

Lot’s Wife

Bringing the Mind to Peace

and Removing it of Sin.

Mara The Sorrowful

Genesis 19:6

6 But his wife looked back from behind him,

and she became a pillar of salt.

http://biblehub.com/genesis/19-26.htm

So was the fate of Lot’s wife as she witnessed the destruction of Sodom & Gomorrah. The place had been a place of sin and so great was the sin that God had it destroyed. All she did is witness its destruction, she is punished for it.

The mind, body, and soul of deeply religious person in today’s society is equal to that of a pillar of stone. Their hearts and minds are hardened to armor them against the love that is God’s Love for them. Against the love of their fellow man.

The teaching of Jesus upon the Sermon on the Mount were many wise and well considered words. They will be a cornerstone of this book. But I do not wish to preach to champion the Christian Faith. Rather, I use these words to comfort the soul of all men & women upon the earth. You may find solace in them if you are or are not a believer in him.

I will begin with a most important concept.

Matthew 5-7 (King James Version)

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=MATT%205-7&version=KJV

25 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

28 And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

29 And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

32 (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Jesus isn’t saying you should be a nudist. He’s saying DO NOT judge people by their clothes (aka “raiment”) if you think wearing your Sunday Best or an expensive piece of clothing gives you a higher place in Heaven than a bum wearing rags, you’re dead wrong, buster.

To whom is Jesus speaking? Who does Jesus truly believe will follow him into Heaven & get their just rewards? You and me, my friend. God doesn’t judge you harshly for being gay or lesbian or bi or transgender or even heterosexual. He doesn’t care how you express your sexuality or gender. He made you different because he loves you and wishes to give you strength to stand up against your oppressors and say “NO!”

Be happy with who you are. I’m not here to pressure you to join any group you don’t entirely want to join. I wrote this document to give you hope for your future. Shine that light of yours that God has given you. If you’re LGBT, wave that Pride Flag high! If you are not, then speak no more sinful assertions against your fellow man or woman who are.

Now let’s back up a bit.

www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=MATT+5-7&version=NIV

“Matthew 5-7

King James Version (KJV)

5 And seeing the multitudes, he (Jesus) went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him:

2 And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,

3 Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

5 Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

6 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

7 Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

8 Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

9 Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

10 Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”

And is when Jesus spoke the words “falsely, for my sake” he predicted that a series of new religions would spring up which claimed to be inspired by him and his sacrifice but ultimately were just a continuation of the practices of the Temple he sought to overthrow.

“12 Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.” And great the reward shall be…”

http://facu.proboards.com/thread/139/goals-website?page=1&scrollTo=246

Let’s step outside of preaching mode for a moment so I may explain. I am referencing Jesus, but I am not speaking only to Christians. Jesus is speaking to those who have been outcast or teased or bullied. Whether or not you admit it, if you have been set aside because you are different, you have been persecuted.

http://facu.proboards.com/thread/139/goals-website?page=1&scrollTo=246

If you have been told you’re too tall, if you’re too short, or too this or too that. If you’re not good at sports, if you stutter, if you have ADHD, whatever… and people are using your difference from the norm against you, Jesus is looking right at you and giving you a promise towards salvation.

http://facu.proboards.com/thread/139/goals-website?page=1&scrollTo=246

Jesus isn’t going to save the bullies. The bully can go to church every sunday and swear on a stack of Bibles all he wants, and Jesus isn’t fooled by this deceit. Bullies threw stones at Jesus, the whipped him, and they murdered him. He will have not that person in Heaven beside you.

“14 Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

15 Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.

16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.“

A little opaque in the delivery, but Jesus is saying do not hide or feel shame for your gifts and God-given talents. If you can sing, sing. If you can draw, draw. If you can write, write. Do all the creative things you wish. Do not let the bullies and naysayers tell you to stop being you. Those who do so are jealous of you and your gifts, they wish to poison your mind against you so that they may feel satisfaction.

“20 For I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.“

He’s saying that those who have been bullied & scorned are far better than those who do the bullying & scorning.

40 And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.

41 And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.

42 Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.

43 Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.“

Now I know the word “sue” gets a different meaning now than Jesus had meant. The word should be “request.” He means in these passages that you freely give of yourself to others, especially those who are poor or harmless who ask for help. That you should go beyond that, even, give the person roughly twice the help they request.

Now I’m not saying give someone twenty dollars just because they want ten. If you cannot realistically afford to give money, give them kindness. Be that person’s friend in the very least. By adding value and self-worth into their lives adds value and self-worth into your own.

http://facu.proboards.com/thread/139/goals-website?page=1&scrollTo=246

“44 But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;“

Need I explain? (smiles) Do not seek vengeance, but try and ask for God to forgive them.

“6 Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.

2 Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

3 But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth:

4 That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.“

http://facu.proboards.com/thread/139/goals-website?page=1&scrollTo=246

Fascinating. Jesus actually predicted mega-charities springing up! Don’t let them fool you, most of the money you give to these places to “feed the poor starving African children” doesn’t go entirely towards feeding them. A large portion of it pays for the salaries of paid actors & high production values… goes into the pockets of people who become wealthy thru this subterfuge.

http://facu.proboards.com/thread/139/goals-website?page=1&scrollTo=246

Jesus doesn’t pass the collection plate. If you worship somewhere that expects you to DEFY Jesus’s above proclamation against public charity, then do not go there. Don’t let them convince you they are serving his will, don’t believe the lies! This is the first of the crimes organized religion has made against him and the most telling example of their falsehood.

“5 And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

6 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.“

Okay, not literally in your closet. But in Jesus’s time there were only synagogues. But if Jesus were alive today, he’d tell you not to go into a Church either. Any building that says it is “God’s House” and exists only to profit off of people seeking enlightenment is a place of sin.

He is saying your prayer should be a private thing between you and God, that God will see you pray and will hear your words no matter how secretly you do it. In fact, you don’t even have to pray at all. He’ll read your mind, he will know what bothers you and will do his best to give you happiness but he cannot give everyone instant gratification for there are so many other people in need.

“7 But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.

8 Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.“

Jesus is specifically saying do not form your prayer as a routine thing you say. Don’t say Grace, don’t say The Lord’s Prayer before you go to bed. God will hear your words and ignore you. And back to the mind-reading I said earlier. Sweet.

“9 After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.

10 Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

11 Give us this day our daily bread.“

This passage is invalid because it contradicts his edict against “vain repetitions.”

What have we learned? We have learned not to value Organized Religion’s doctrines above our own self-worth. We have learned not to make a show of charity or prayer. We have also learned to not structure our prayer in the form of a prideful speech. We have discredited the tools that the bullies use to oppress us.

This is the end of the first part of my narrative. Be well. See you in Part Two.

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