Tumgik
#as i became more educated about my own mental health though i started to realize the pattern in these fears
keshetchai · 8 months
Text
As someone who enjoys religion blogging/discussions, I've come to realize that it's a good practice to be aware of the general signs/symptoms of religious-OCD thinking (aka scrupulosity), because if the conversation is taking on all the hallmarks of scrupulosity, it's actually a definitive sign that we cannot meaningfully and compassionately engage in a conversation about religion in a healthy way. I've actually had this play out a significant number of times online, and when I realized what it was, I also began to realize that the intrusive thoughts/obsessive and compulsive thinking are only ever fed by continuing the discussion with that person.
[[ Important edit to clarify why I am saying it's not healthy — made after I went back to look for more concrete facts about OCD or anxiety (I have GAD, not OCD, but many resources overlap since they're both anxiety disorders):
When Reassurance is Harmful — this explains how/why reassurance-seeking specifically about an OCD fear is a compulsive behavior, and engaging with reassurance-seeking interferes with recovery/management/treatment.
This table from the Anxiety Disorders Center lists key differences between Information Seeking and Reassurance Seeking.
This IOCDF page on Scrupulosity info for Faith Leaders identifies "symptom accommodation" as enabling. Two of the examples of doing this by participating in the OCD behavior are: "Engage in excessive conversation focused on if-then scenarios (e.g., "If I did this, then would X or Y happen? And what if Z was involved? How about W?")" And, "Repeatedly answering questions about ‘correct’ religious or faith practices."
That page also goes on to outline more info about reassurance seeking. "Although providing answers to (often simple!) questions may seem harmless, providing reassurance serves to maintain the anxiety disorder cycle." (This BMC psychiatry article cites a lot of related studies establishing this.)
The IOCDF page on What is OCD and Scrupulosity? ]]
Imo, the responsible thing to do is to recognize that (even if the other person hasn't outright stated it/isn't diagnosed)* the conversation is not about religion, it is about needing mental health support from professionals and experts. Talking to me, the layperson who enjoys chatting theology and my religion — is not only not helping, but is actively harmful. I'm not just talking about the person who I replied to today, either. Like I've said, I've seen this happen dozens of times in various online forums.
*[while I am against diagnosing strangers on the internet, it's important to realize A) lots of people don't know what Scrupulosity is, so it's possible they've never considered this is a mental health concern that could be treated, and that B) for the purposes of my concern, it doesn't matter if they actually have diagnosed OCD. The only thing that matters is that their thought-process causes them genuine distress/fear, and every response given to them seems to only incite new/additional distressing questions/thoughts, or further entrenches the original distress.]
Ultimately, any discussion aside from "you might want to speak to a mental health professional about scrupulosity OCD" seemingly puts me in the position of feeling as if I am being used for their self-harm. I hate that feeling. I do not want to be leverage for fear and pain. I have GAD, I despise the idea that I am making things worse.
No matter how much I love religious discussion, the answer in these cases is always "please reach out to an OCD specialist/mental health professional. I am not qualified to discuss this." And then to stop there. I have never once seen anyone stuck in this compulsive thought spiral be reassured or feel any better by hearing from someone else's approach to theology handled with things like empathy, compassion, logic, or even atheism. It doesn't matter what we say, how we say it, or how we relate to our own religion. The urge to engage in this kind of conversation in order to chat about religion is a sign that we are not equipped to help.
You can't have a conversation here, because intentionally or not, ten times out of ten, you are adding fuel to the fire. Just like people can't simply tell me something that would erase/talk me out of my ADHD/depression/anxiety disorder, you also cannot simply argue/reassure/persuade people out of scrupulosity. We should not try. We have a responsibility to consider that it's outright harmful to do so, and to disengage.
94 notes · View notes
raggedy-albert · 1 year
Note
Ooh what are the headcanons you mentioned
ok i have so so many but we’ll start with my favorite albert ones
He is part Portuguese and part Brazilian
He has freckles and always is covered with dirt and a smattering of bruises. He’s a redhead with hair that sort of looks like a bird that’s spiky, thick, and always slicked back. He’s very buff and likes to show it off. He’s not short (most other newsies are just tall), but he has a compact vibe to him. His face is very expressive, especially his eyes brows. He has light brown eyes. His skin is a very light brown and his face is heart shaped.
When he ran away from home after his brother died and after he started to become more angry and bigger, the Brooklyn newsies (they knew his brother, and it was the closest borough) took him in (which is where he met Spot, though he wasn’t leader of the Brookies yet. They weren’t really close though, they just knew that each other existed). The Brookies gave him a nickname (Red) and he became really close friends with someone, another newsie who was around his dead brother’s age. The newsie didn't have any friends but he had been with the Brooklyn newsies for a while, and Albert didn’t have any friends there so he thought it was a perfect match. The newsie would only call Al by his nickname, which he didn’t really like but the newsie told him it made him sound cooler, and he figured it was a way to disconnect from his past life. That newsie and him became brothers (“replacing” the brother he lost) but Albert didn’t realize how toxic and controlling he was. They went everywhere together and they sold together and were inseparable, but one day his “friend” got in trouble with the cops and was going to be sent to the Refuge so he blamed it all on Albert and got away with no punishment, while Albert got sent away instead. His short time there changed him, he has a few physical scars from the abuse (he hates others seeing them), but most of them are mental. He got extremely protective of others, which is where he first adopted the older brother mindset, but he also started getting nightmares as well as sleep issues and his mental health plummeted. He also became really jumpy, and he got much quieter, though before he was outgoing, loud, and rebellious. After he got out he always tries to give whatever extra food or little money he has to Specs to give to the kids he left behind, who he thinks about often. Ever since this, he swore off nicknames. He is still friends with a few of the Brookies, but he doesn’t like to see them too often since it’s hard for him because it reminds him of the newsies who betrayed him and his brother.
He’s actually pretty smart but didn’t get a school education since he started working so young. One of the Brooklyn newsies taught him the basics of how to read, which he used to tell the other newsies the headline or just to entertain himself. He’s sort of a smart dummy though, and it’s more street smarts than intelligence.
He used to mostly live at his house but ever since both of his brothers moved out his father became more violent due to there not being anyone to protect him anymore, he lives in the lodging house most of the time. Sometimes he randomly shows up late at night with bruises and doesn’t say anything about why. The other newsies just accept that he sometimes shows up and needs a place for the night. He has his own designated bed there (the bunk under Race’s).
Before his mom died, he wasn’t really close with her. He mostly spent time with his dad. Even if they didn’t really talk, they just got along and sat in comfortable silence together. It’s not like he disliked his mom or anything, they just weren’t close and it was sort of awkward whenever they would interact. After she died though, his dad completely changed. He got angry. It was like he had lost two parents, not one.
He talks loudly and slightly “off” because a) he’s hard of hearing, and b) he was born in Brooklyn, but switched to Manhattan at a relatively young age, so he talks in a combination of both. He also uses a lot of slang so he’s hard to understand (Race is the interpreter). Also his parents both had accents so…
28 notes · View notes
maxhqs · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
if you’re hearing ORDINARY WORLD by DURAN DURAN playing, you have to know MAXIMILIANO RUIZ (HE/HIM; CIS-MALE) is near by! the 45 year old MAYOR has been in denver for, like, THIRTY-FIVE YEARS. they’re known to be quite COMPLACENT, but being OPTIMISTIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble PEDRO PASCAL. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those FRESHLY PRESSED TAILORED SUITS, CIGARETTES PRESSED AGAINST GLASS ASHTRAYS, ABSURD ORNATE VASES, AND BEDHEAD FASHIONED WITH MOLDING PASTE INTO MESSY-CHIC vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough!
BIO TRIGGERS: death, drinking, pregnancy scare, mental health, reckless spending.
BASIC INFORMATION
NAME: Maximilano Vicente Ruiz
NICKNAMES: max, maximo, any variation of max you can think of -- he will answer to. 
PRO-NOUNS: he/him
GENDER: cis-male
AGE: 45
D.O.B: December 21
P.O.B: Santo Domingo, Chile
Raised in: Denver, Colorado after age 10
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: sagittarius sun, the rest is completely lost on him
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married to the job (perpetually single)
OCCUPATION: Mayor of Denver
EDUCATION: Master of Public Administration
APPEARANCE
HEIGHT: 5’11 ft
WEIGHT: 170 lbs
BUILD: muscular, lean
HAIR COLOUR: dark brown
EYE COLOUR: brown
WARDROBE STYLE: typically business casual, unless off the clock then it's jeans, a tee, and a flannel
DEFINING FEATURES: politicians smile and a firm handshake
HEALTH
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a
MENTAL AILMENTS: depression and anxiety
DO THEY DRINK: yes
DO THEY SMOKE: yes
RECREATIONAL DRUGS: top secret
ADDICTIONS: nicotine and work
PERSONALITY
POSITIVES: optmistic, charming, confident, intelligent, brave, resourceful
NEGATIVES: complacent, workaholic, defensive, obsessive
LIKES: listening to new music, cooking with friends, eclectic house art, physical touch, buying sneakers but only wearing oxfords.
DISLIKES: disposable vapes, people in his business, songs on repeat, harsh judgements, wrinkled clothing, milk and milk alternatives
ACTIVITIES & SKILLS
SKILLS: cooking, leading, storytelling, negotiating
STRENGTHS: idealistic, curious, energetic
WEAKNESSES: pride, reckless, unstructured
HIDDEN TALENTS: --
LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english and spanish
BRIEF HISTORY
Maximiliano, Maximo, Mil, Maxim, Max – whatever you want to call him, he’s heard it and loves it. Nicknames are cute and he acknowledges them, his family always changed his name on him, you know?
He lived in Santo Domingo only until he was 10, then his family immigrated to the US, finding a home in Denver, Colorado
Colorado become his second home and he eventually went on to University of Denver and graduated with a degree in public administration.
His whole life he felt like he had to be perfect for everyone around him, he never stepped a toe out of line, had literally only had wine with dinner a handful of times, and never intentionally hurt anyone. This weighed on him the most. He saw his Chilean peers get mistreated in so many ways, he just wanted to help them and other immigrant families. He soon realized, though, that he was just a shell of a man who had no clue who he was.
Once his dad died his first year of grad school, he started to change on the inside and slowly crack. Year after year everything started piling on him, the responsibility of his own family, his relationships, and partner's families were all just too much for him. Adding a serious pregnancy scare on top of it all at age 23, was when the glass fully imploded. Within months he became broody and disconnected, until eventually he broke off a serious relationship, dropped out of school, and moved to a different part of town.
Out of school with no degree under his belt, he picked up bartending.
Those dark five years were him literally living life as a bachelor: waking up, going to work, coming home, drinking more, watching a dumb show or going out with friends, coming home, passing out, and repeating.
He did this until a few triggering events shoved him back into public and academic arenas.
At thirty he finally went back to grad school, got his Master's in Public Administration and started running for local offices.
First he started in community initiatives, volunteering his time while he attended city meetings and began networking. It only took a few years before he was appointed to city council. From there he kept working on his image, putting together again the person he was before the Big Break.
Two years ago he was finally appointed mayor -- he finally got what he was gunning for, but somehow all those feelings from his youth were rushing back and he was headed into a spiral.
This time, though, it was quiet and calculated -- he knew where he could go, he could handle a little drinking, he wasn't doing anything wrong. Just blowing a little steam in the form of reckless spending where beautiful women were involved... it was fine. Or that's what he was going to keep telling himself as he watched the women dance.
HEADCANNONS
In his younger years he frequented CLUB 303, but after hitting his thirties he lost the will to party all night long. Now, though, he can be seen slipping inside the doors of the Ambrisia Lounge after a rough day at work -- which is happening more often than not.
Hangovers are familiar to him, stale cigarettes and Dior Sauvage are his signature scents.
Divisively he is not a cat or dog person, but a fish person and has an aquarium that he takes meticulous care of.
more to come.
WORK
coming soon.
LOVE
coming soon.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
MAXIMILIANO RUIZ is looking for A SCRETARY/ASSISTANT. they’d like the faceclaim to possibly be someone along the lines of (35+ M/F/NB) MAGGIE Q, CONRAD RICAMORA , FREEMA AGYEMAN, ZOE SALDANA, STEVEN YEUN but you must reach out to MAXHQS to find out more!
MAXIMILIANO RUIZ is looking for FWB(S). they’d like the faceclaim to possibly be someone along the lines of (25+ M/F/NB), but you must reach out to MAXHQS to find out more!
MAXIMILIANO RUIZ is looking for EXES. they’d like the faceclaims to possibly be someone along the lines of (25+ M/F/NB), but you must reach out to MAXHQS to find out more! (+ give me messy, give me aching -- I'm here for it all. Long term exes, one night stands -- anything where they've be connected for a night or more and gotta work through it now.)
MAXIMILIANO RUIZ is looking for A HALF-SIBLING. they’d like the faceclaim to possibly be someone along the lines of (35+ M/F/NB), but you must reach out to MAXHQS to find out more! (Definitely reach out about this one to discuss, it can be known/unknown, a good/bad relationship, but most likely connected via Max's dad, who is Chilean)
2 notes · View notes
sononames · 2 years
Text
While waiting for Season 25...
Since we have no news on Season 25, and I seemed to have reached the end of the internet where nordic/germanic/francophone/slavic/ etc noir-ish or BBC crime procedurals are concerned, I've had some time on my hands. This has led me to thinking of how different the writers have plotted the relationship between Nikki and Jack and Nikki and Harry. Then I came across @beautyofthend post about how Silent Witness writers have been building the relationship between Jack and Nikki. It is very thorough, and I reposted it below. So I am here to add some thoughts.
I only started watching Silent Witness at the end of 2021, but quickly became a fan. I saw season 22 first, and then went back chronologically until I finished season 24. My impression, early on, was that Jack was the "anti-Harry." Then I began to think that writing Jack as a character was the writers' attempt at allowing Nikki's character to grow by "correcting" some of the more limiting aspects that had been written about it, often expressed through Nikki's relationship with Harry.
I say this because from the start, Nikki and Harry, though superficially appearing to be opposite in terms of personality, where in some ways too similar. Both were highly educated, high-achieving, and upper-middle class. Both are only children with problematic fathers who were outright abusive with their wives, even if in Harry's case, it might have been related to poor mental health. And both allow their emotions, and physical attraction, to interfere with their better judgement.
Yes, the writers make much about Harry being dispassionate, even seeming at times to lack compassion (Season 8, Death by Water). However he is also known to let himself be blinded by his emotional entanglements (Season 13, "Intent".) Harry certainly uses his banter as a defense mechanism to keep everyone at arms length, but seems to regret this somewhat when it comes to Nikki, commenting on how they can never seem to have a straightforward conversation (can't remember the episode or the quote exactly...)
On the other hand, I do think that the writers created Nikki's own fear of commitment to further explain why her attraction to Harry does not go beyond flirtation. In "Body of Work" we see Harry kiss Nikki -- and Nikki appear utterly surprised, but not unpleasantly so. However, this relationship's path is promptly interrupted by the intrusion of Harry's "tragic past." The episode ends with Nikki getting ready to go out with friends and asking Harry if her outfit suits her. One could read that as her attempt to regain Harry's interest. However, to me her body language suggests that she is letting him know she has moved on. Harry smiles ruefully as she leaves. (Contrast this to her reaction when Jack refuses to take her calls... she leaves herself open and vulnerable, refusing to let his silence have the last word, so to speak... but I am getting ahead of myself).
I found that that scene is mirrored in Harry's next to last episode, Part 1 of "Then I fell in love.." While Harry is the one to demure over the appropriateness of staying in her flat, it is Nikki who "blinks" when a shared meal in her flat leads to a moment of closeness. She clears her throat, picks up the plates and walks away, leaving Harry to look at her ruefully, again. And while Harry might have been the one to leave her flat (and the series), Nikki seems to take this in stride, at least in this episode. While she does call out for him, it seems to be as a means of companionship, not out of desire. When she realizes he is not there, she goes about her business on the phone calmly. In later episodes, Nikki does show she that she misses Harry, but again not in a romantic way.
Finally, in season 21, episode 1, she is talking to her friend about Mexico, and mentions how upon setting herself free she flew to NY. She describes her first days there as being wonderful, but then quickly realized that she had not left the trauma behind. There is no mention that this time was spent with Harry; either way, her return to the UK puts him firmly out of the picture.
From this moment forward, Nikki character arc is placed on a path to personal growth and change that might have been difficult to achieve with Harry. As a character, Jack is very different from Harry -- physically, emotionally, and socially. Negotiating these differences will allow Nikki to grow as a character in ways she could not have before.
18 notes · View notes
demonsigh · 3 years
Text
the hunt
Tumblr media
rating: lime/mature pairing: male vampire x gender-neutral reader features: touch starvation, safewords, biting, aftercare, cuddling warnings: blood, fear, being chased, dizziness length: 4240 words
Feeling isolated and craving physical intimacy, a college student agrees to be hunted and bitten by a vampire in exchange for a post-meal snuggling session. Based on this prompt submitted to @monsterkinkmeme​​ by @the-color-of-sound-is-space
You were supposed to meet him at 11 PM, in the middle of Bartleby Park. Vampires were nocturnal and uncomfortable in the sun, so the hunt had to take place at night. But did it have to be this late?
It wasn’t as if you were getting tired. You were something of a nocturnal animal yourself nowadays; college tended to do that to people. But the park was pretty creepy this late at night, eerily empty and unnaturally quiet.
You checked your phone again. 11:10 already. He was late. Had he been held up? Or could he have overslept? That thought wrung a quiet chuckle from you — a sound not at all reassuring to hear in the dark silence of the park.
The “he” in question was a vampire named Roland that you’d met on the internet. You were meeting up so he could suck your blood.
For whatever reason, college towns tended to attract vampires. It probably had something to do with the vibrant nightlife, and the bars that never closed, and parties that only ended when the sun rose. Or perhaps it was the rich history of such places, in the old stone buildings and the musty library books. Or maybe it was just the students themselves: curious and open-minded, over-educated and sheltered and a little bit reckless.
In the modern age, most vampires obtained their food in the modern way: in bags, from blood banks or speciality clinics. But there were those who still swore by more natural methods. Many believed that feeding from the source provided physical and mental health benefits. For others, the desire to stalk, and chase, and bite, was simply too strong to resist indulging. Luckily for all, it was not as difficult to find a willing human victim as one might expect.
You discovered a message board that was dedicated to this macabre economy. Vampires would make posts looking for “prey” — humans willing or eager to be bitten. An arrangement would be made for a night of thrilling and dangerous roleplay, where the vampire played the part of the seductive predator, and the human, the helpless victim.
For most of the humans who posted on this forum, being prey was a kink. They enjoyed the thrill of the chase, and the pain of the bite. It was foreplay to them, and the evening inevitably led to sex after their partner’s more pressing appetites were sated.
You became a little obsessed with this message board. You didn’t think you’d mind being bitten; there was something kind of sexy about it. But you weren’t really trying to get laid. What you really wanted was some quality aftercare, a perk that was frequently offered, requested, and discussed on this forum.
College had become something of a lonely experience for you. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, and you weren’t sure where you’d gone wrong. In your freshman year you’d made an effort to be social, starting a number of casual friendships, but none of them really stuck. You were still close to your high school friends, and you talked to them online all the time, but somehow the number of people with whom you had any physical interaction had dwindled down to zero.
It made you lonely in a deep, nagging way. You wanted a hug. You wanted to hold someone’s hand. You daydreamed constantly about these things, setting up elaborate scenarios in your mind that led to someone safe and warm holding you for hours at a time. You felt like these fantasies were reaching a boiling point in your mind. And one night, after drinking several beers by yourself, you made your own post on that message board. You would let someone bite you (hunt optional), in exchange for an evening of snuggling (sex optional).
And that was how you met Roland. He wasn’t the only vampire who replied to your post, but he was the only one who lived within easy walking distance. You agreed to meet at one of the campus cafes and discuss possibilities over coffee.
You recognized him immediately, although you were pretty sure he didn’t recognize you. He was in one of your classes. You frequently spied him from across the lecture hall, tall and good-looking and unapproachable. You’d always thought there was something a little otherworldly about him, but he mostly just looked like another student. You’d had no idea that he wasn’t even human.
And it turned out he wasn’t as intimidating as he looked. He actually seemed pretty nice, even a little bit shy. He’d never fed straight from the skin before — drinking nothing but bagged blood since he was turned — and he wanted to try it at least once. He wasn’t trying to get laid either. Like you, he was much more interested in the aftercare, hoping for something like a cooldown hug once the deed was done. That suited you just fine.
The plan was this: You would meet in Bartleby Park at 11 PM. The exact location didn’t matter, he said; he would come find you. This statement gave you an unexpected thrill. Perhaps the hunting part would be more fun than you’d thought. You would run, and he would chase you. If you screamed, all the better — although this did make a safeword necessary. You chose “cardboard,” the first word that came to your mind, which made him laugh. When he finally caught you, he would bite you on the neck and drink your blood. Then he would take you up to his apartment for first aid and spooning. Simple as that.
Only he wasn’t here yet. It was 11:20 now, and you were still alone. Maybe he was having trouble finding you. Or… was he backing out? That thought stung. You suddenly realized just how much you’d been looking forward to this, and the idea of going home tired and alone made you feel more depressed than ever.
A branch snapped in the trees nearby, and your head whipped toward the sound. Your eyes scanned back and forth across the screen of dark leaves, trying and failing to uncover the culprit.
“Roland?” you whispered. You hadn’t meant to whisper, but suddenly you were having trouble finding your voice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump. It was a text message from your friend:
“How did it go?”
“He’s late, I’m still waiting,” you typed in response.
“Ok… Text me again in an hour or I’m calling the cops.”
Your friends had basically all agreed that this seemed like a bad idea. You were starting to wonder if they were right. You didn’t know Roland at all… even if you knew where he lived and where he went to school. Even if he was cute and he seemed nice.
And even if Roland was fine, Roland wasn’t here. It was late, and the park was deserted. Who knew what other weirdos were prowling around out here.
You were starting to feel genuinely anxious. Beneath the trees, the park was dark, the shadows unaffected by the dim light of the street lamps. What was the safeword again? Cardboard? That was it, right?
There was a rapid noise in the grass behind you — tff tff tff — like something rushing towards you in long leaps. That was the last straw. You launched into a flat-out run, heart hammering, breath coming in gasps.
A pair of cold, hard arms wrapped around you from behind, jerking you to a stop. You screamed at the top of your lungs, and then, almost in the same breath, shouted, “Cardboard cardboard cardboard,” all in a rush; sure that the word would mean nothing to this person; that you were about to be hurt or worse.
But cardboard was the magic word. The arms disappeared from around your chest, and in a flash he was standing in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rough, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
And of course it was only Roland, the very person you had agreed to do this with. He was staring into your face, expression distressed, hands gripping your shoulders.
“I’m okay,” you wheezed. “It was just… scarier than I expected.”
He was slowly shaking his head back and forth. He looked appalled. “Fuck, I am so sorry.”
You didn’t understand why he was apologizing like that, until you suddenly became aware of the wetness on your cheeks, and the ragged sound of your breathing. Were you crying? God, how fucking embarrassing.
“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing tears from your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Jesus.”
“No no,” said Roland, “don’t apologize. I think I overdid it. ...And I was pretty late, that definitely didn’t help.”
He was looking around now, frowning into the dark woods, and rubbing your shoulders absently. You were hyper-aware of his hands. They were like ice but every pass of them over your shoulders sent a rush of warmth through you. You felt extremely relieved that he was here, even though he was the reason you’d been so scared in the first place. You wished he would hug you — the desire for this was almost overwhelming — but you felt too dazed and embarrassed to ask.
His eyes met yours once again, and his hands slipped from your shoulders, finding their way into his pockets instead — the exact opposite of what you wanted.
“Uh…” he said. “Do you wanna just skip this part and go straight back to my place?”
A wobbly laugh escaped you, and you nodded weakly. “Are you still gonna suck my blood?” you asked.
“Do you still want me to?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled at that. It was a small, almost shy smile, but enough to give you a good look at his fangs. They looked shockingly white and sharp in the dark.
He started to walk in the direction of his apartment, then paused; and looking back, expression uncertain, he held his hand out towards you. You hesitated for just one second. Then you placed your hand in his, and his cold fingers closed tightly around yours.
“Is this ok?” he asked.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Your heart was racing again. When was the last time you’d held someone’s hand? You never wanted him to let go.
Neither of you spoke. You wondered if he was feeling as nervous as you were. You’d thought that the scary part was over, but what about what came next? How badly would it hurt when he bit you? He’d never bitten anyone before, he said. How would he react to his first taste?
When you tried to picture it, all you could imagine were his lips pressed against your skin; and his hand cupping the back of your neck, holding you still. They were not unpleasant images. You felt your face heat up, and you were suddenly grateful for the darkness and the cold night air.
It was a fairly short walk. His apartment was a big single-room studio: TV and sofa in one corner, bed and bookcase in another. Rounded doorways branched off into a kitchen and a bathroom. There was a large white-curtained window in the west wall, and moonlight poured in through the glass, illuminating the plush carpet. It was cozy and uncluttered. Roland watched you look around, then looked around himself.
“Maybe in the kitchen?” he asked. He caught your eye, then glanced quickly away. “So we don’t get blood on the carpet.”
How practical. You followed him into the kitchen, forcing yourself to take even breaths as you went. Vampires were supposed to have excellent hearing. Could he hear how fast your heart was beating?
“Want some water?” he asked, opening a cupboard as he spoke. You peered over his shoulder, tickled to see that the only dishes he seemed to own were drinking glasses; no bowls or plates in sight. What would he need a plate for, after all?
He moved around you to fill the glass with water from the sink. He seemed to be avoiding eye-contact, and you wondered again if he was nervous. Somehow the thought made you feel more at ease. Boldly, you opened his refrigerator to examine the contents. Blood bags, and nothing else. Lots of them. Stacks upon stacks, in neat little rows. You couldn’t quite believe it, even though it was exactly what you’d expected to find.
You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but you were afraid it wasn’t good. You turned toward Roland and found him watching you, expression careful; glass of water forgotten in one hand.
“Yeah…” he said.
“Nothing for me?” you asked, grinning, attempting to break the sudden tension.
He grinned back sheepishly. Then he pulled a little juice box out of the pocket of his jacket. It was the kind of thing they gave you after donating blood. You both began to laugh, and a warm, giddy feeling spread through you.
Roland moved closer and patted one of the countertops. “Hop up here?” he asked. You obliged, although it was more of a scramble than a hop. Roland began pulling more small items from the pockets of his jacket, and setting them on the counter next to you: single-use alcohol wipes; a few band-aids; a little roll of gauze, and a roll of medical tape. It became clear to you that he really had intended to bite you in the park, and he had come prepared.
He was standing very close now, almost pressed against your bent knees. You longed to close the distance. You didn’t move. Roland’s movements also grew slower, more hesitant. Stalling.
“Are you nervous?” you asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Why?”
He looked you right in the eye, finally. His expression was serious.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
“I don’t think it’ll be that bad,” you replied, although you weren’t sure whether you actually believed that.
He frowned, and his eyes travelled down to your neck. He was biting his lip, and his fangs stood out starkly against his skin.
He handed you the glass of water. You drank it. Then you took his hand and gently pulled him closer, spreading your knees wider so he could stand between them. He swallowed visibly.
“I’m nervous too,” you told him.
“I know,” he said, in a hoarse almost-whisper. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Safeword?”
“You can just tell me.”
You were both almost-whispering now, leaning in closer and closer. It felt an awful lot like you were about to share your first kiss.
With one hand, he pulled the collar of your shirt away from your neck, while his other hand slid up to cup the back of your neck. Your heart was hammering with excitement and fear, and his cold fingers felt good against your flushed skin. He lowered his face against your neck, and almost before you knew it his fangs were piercing the skin, creating thin twin wounds that ached immediately. You gasped and grasped handfuls of the fabric of his jacket. Honestly his teeth didn’t hurt much more than a needle, but somehow the reality of it stunned you. He was really going to drink your blood. In that moment, for the first time, you really believed that Roland was something other than human.
His lips closed over the wound. His mouth was wet and unexpectedly hot, and his tongue moved rhythmically against your aching skin as he sucked and swallowed your blood. He made a low sound deep in his throat — the type of contented groan that a good bite of food might inspire. You had to hold your breath to keep from responding in kind.
This was erotic. You couldn’t help thinking of it that way. Your grip on his jacket tightened, and you forced yourself not to squeeze your knees more tightly around his waist. You wondered if he felt it too. Was this exciting him at all? Or was this just a meal to him?
You couldn’t have said how long this went on — it was probably minutes, though it felt longer — but eventually he stopped drinking and pulled away. Somehow a piece of gauze was already in his hand; he pressed it to your neck, holding it firmly against the bite. You stared at each other, both breathing unevenly. His cheeks, so colorless before, were now flushed.
He cleared his throat and licked blood off his lips.
“Are you okay,” he asked, voice rough.
“I’m ok,” you said, although you actually felt a little dizzy. You felt around for the juice box. “Was that enough?”
He nodded his head and grabbed the juice box, pressing it into your reaching hand. He seemed a little dazed. He tore open one of the alcohol wipes, and while you drank your juice he disinfected the bite marks. You hissed at the stinging pain, and he grimaced in sympathy. Then he taped a fresh strip of gauze over the bite.
“It didn’t hurt that bad,” you reported between sips.
“Good,” he said. But he was starting to look unhappy again, frowning as he watched you sip your juice. Your heart sank a little in your chest. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed this as much as you had.
“Are you ok?” you asked him.
He didn’t respond at first. And then he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. You bit back a huff of surprise. He was no longer cold — drinking your blood had warmed his whole body.
“What is it?” you whispered.
He heaved an enormous sigh next to your ear. “You just looked so scared in the park,” he said. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your chest. “I feel really bad.”
You didn’t feel bad. One of his large hands was pressed against your back, warm and reassuring, and the other was cupped around the back of your head. Your chest was pressed flush against his, and he was warm and solid and worried about you. You gave up trying to resist the urge to touch him. You put your arms around him, and squeezed your knees tighter against his waist, pulling him even closer to you. You let your head fall forward to rest against his neck, but as soon as you closed your eyes, the room began to whirl around you.
“Um,” you gasped. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Oh,” he said, a little catch of surprise in his voice. He pulled away. “Um. Let me, uh...”
Carefully, he slipped his hand under your knees, and gathered you up into his arms. You threw your own arms around his neck, shamelessly clinging to him as he carried you out of the kitchen with no apparent effort. He paused in the doorway and looked down at you.
“The bed or the couch?” he asked.
“The bed,” you said against his chest, hoping that this was not too bold. He didn’t seem to think so. He carried you across the room, careful not to jostle you, and gently laid you down on top of the comforter.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
You nodded your head. You were quite cold, actually; another effect of the blood loss.
Roland stood and went over to a small closet, where he retrieved a stack of thick, warm-colored blankets. He shook them out and draped them over you in layers, and their warm weight made you feel better almost immediately.
“Thank you,” you said.
“No problem,” he replied. He stood by the side of the bed, unmoving. He seemed to be struggling for words. “Um… Do you still want to…”
“Yes,” you said emphatically, and you peeled back the blankets to make space for him.
He looked self-conscious, but he didn’t hesitate. He crawled under the blankets, and carefully pulled you into his arms, settling your head against his shoulder. His body was still warm with your blood, and you pressed into him eagerly.
“Is this ok?” he asked.
“It’s perfect,” you said. You placed your hand flat on his chest, then sighed happily, which made him laugh. He laid his hand over yours, curling his fingers around it.
That was almost too much. Your chest felt fit to burst with it. You kept waiting to wake up, sure that you must have dreamt this whole thing. You still couldn’t believe he’d drunk your blood. His teeth had been inside of you. And as much as that weirded you out, it kind of turned you on too.
You suddenly remembered that you were supposed to text your friends back. You shifted around, and Roland loosed his hold on you to let you pull your phone out of your pocket.
“I’m letting my friends know you didn’t murder me,” you explained as you typed. You’d meant it as a joke, but you regretted the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you hurried to say, turning in his arms to face him, and wincing at the pain in your neck. “I didn’t really think you would…”
He shook his head before you could say anything else. “It’s ok. Biting someone…” He ran a hand through his hair as he thought. “Well, it’s an inherently violent act. Some people get carried away. Your friends weren’t wrong to be worried.”
“I feel safe with you though,” you said.
“Oh. Good.” He ducked his head, and his cheeks turned the pinkest they’d been all night. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest. He was really adorable… You hadn’t expect that, watching him from afar. You pulled closer to him, putting your arms around him and laying your head against his chest. He tucked the blankets more snugly around your shoulders.
“This is really nice,” you said.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“How did you like biting me?” You forced the words out before you could lose your nerve. You hoped you weren’t making it awkward, but you had to know.
Roland didn’t answer at first. Then he let out a breath, and slid one of his hands over his face. “Not gonna lie,” he said. “It was way better than drinking bagged blood.”
“Oh, good!” you said, laughing. “I’m glad. I was worried you didn’t like it.”
“I definitely liked it…” he said, still covering his face. “You taste amazing.”
You felt your face turn bright red. There was a double-entendre in there somewhere, although you guessed it was unintentional. I’d like to taste you next, you thought wildly, and once again, you found yourself wondering if you were the only one whose mind had wandered into the gutter tonight.
He seemed to sense your sudden discomfort, if not its source, because he uncovered his face and said, “I’m sorry, that was a super weird thing to say.”
You shook your head against his chest. “I liked it too,” you admitted. “When you bit me.” Then, still more softly: “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again sometime.”
You heard him swallow. “I’d like that.”
You lapsed into a warm silence, untroubled and comfortable, and you basked in his presence like a cat in sunlight. You were aware of every part of him that was pressed against you: his chest rising and falling beneath you, and his hands pressed against your back, and his legs tangled with yours beneath the blankets, chaste but intimate, and ripe with potential.
You definitely wanted to kiss him. You opened your mouth to float the idea, but you were overcome by an enormous yawn. You suddenly realized you had no idea what time it was. It felt really late, but maybe you were just tired out from all the excitement.
“Was I falling asleep?” you asked.
“A little,” he admitted.
“I should probably get home,” you said, but then made no move to get up. You heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t wanna go yet though,” you complained, “I’m so cozy.”
“Do you wanna stay here?”
You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “Stay the night?”
“We don’t have to do anything weird,” he said, turning pink again. You stared at each other for a moment. Then he gently pushed your head back down to his chest, so that you weren’t looking at him when he said, “I don’t wanna let you go yet.”
“Are you sure?” you asked. As if you weren’t already convinced. “I won’t throw off your day? I mean your night?”
You felt him shrug. “I was just gonna do homework.”
That drew a surprised laugh out of you. You’d almost forgotten that Roland wasn’t just your weird vampire hookup. He was your classmate too.
“Do you know that we’re in the same class?” you asked, playfully accusing.
“Yeah,” he admitted, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. “I recognized you when we got coffee.”
That surprised you. “I thought I was the only one,” you said.
“I noticed you sitting in back sometimes.” His hand was still resting against the side of your head, and his fingers moved absently through strands of your hair. “I thought you looked cool.”
“Good,” you said, which made him laugh. You grinned against his chest. “I want to stay. Can I?”
“Yeah,” he said, voice soft, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around you.
257 notes · View notes
qianinterprises · 3 years
Text
WayV Reaction: finding out their S/O has Borderline Personality Disorder
Pairing(s): WayV x Reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mention of mental health, depression, anxiety, symptom's included in BPD. Trigger Warnings: depression, anxiety, hostility, mention's of self-harm, self-doubt, low self-image Word Count: 3.9k
Tumblr media
Author's Notes: I'll be honest and say that I had to research Borderline Personality Disorder. I knew what it was/had heard of it before, but in order to write something accurate, I tried to educate myself. If you believe that you have BPD, please don't be afraid to go to a doctor or a trusted friend/family member. Your mental health is important.
Author's Note 2.0: I also want to mention that (as per earlier request), I am also working on a YangYang fic that features a reader with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm not entirely sure when it will be posted (soon hopefully), but it is in my WIP's.
Author's Note 2.0: Kun's is a little different, I apologize for the difference and the shortness. Tagging:@treasuretaeil
Kun:
Kun was in the middle of dance practice when his phone began to ring. At first, he let it go to voicemail, but by the third ring, Ten paused the music and Kun grabbed his phone out of his coat pocket, expecting to see your name popping up on the screen. You were at home today after a particularly rough week at work that had left you feeling spent. Kun longed to be home with you, holding you tight in his embrace. As his eyes met your next door neighbor's name on his phone screen, his stomach dropped. Mrs. Huang only called when it was really serious. "Hello?" he asked into the receiver. "Oh thank goodness!" she cried, voice laced with anxiety enducing agitation. "What's wrong?" "It's (y/n)! They've brought me five big tins of muffins! I can't possibly eat all of these! And they've gone to the store twice with ingredients! I think something's wrong! Kun sighed. This morning, you had been so happy. You were practically singing to the birds. He knew it wouldn't last though, especially with the week you'd had. "I'll be there soon!" Kun left practice without another word and when he got home, he found you in the kitchen, covered in flour, vigorously mixing a creamy liquid in one of your metal mixing bowls. The kitchen was covered in ingredients; flour puffed on the counters and floor, broken egg shells on the table, a half empty measuring cup of milk teetering on top of the fridge. It was bad this time. Kun knew you had borderline personality disorder. It had been something you'd told him in the beginnings of your relationship. He had seen you at your worst, and at your best, but it still broke his heart every time he witnessed you at a breaking point. "(y/n)?" You paused in your vigorous mixing, eyes glancing up to meet his. He didn't say anything, eyes locked on yours, but his eyes held no pity. Instead, they held pure, unfiltered love that had you putting the whisk aside. "Do you love me?" you whispered. A small wisp of a smile reflected across his face as he crossed the room, arms wrapping around your body. "More than anything," he whispered.
Ten:
You and Ten had only been together for a short amount of time; three months to be exact. It was an exhilarating three months. Time you wouldn't give for anything in the world, even though you didn't get to see each other often with Ten's very busy schedule. However, after the "Kick Back" album released, WayV was allowed to take a break as SM turned their attention to the scheduled release of NCT Dream's first album. Normally, Ten would then be whisked away for some SuperM promotion, but with Baekhyun's enlistment, SuperM was also allowed to take a break as the company decided what to do. Which ultimately meant you got to spend more time with your boyfriend, which, most would deem as a good thing and, you were happy he was there, however, it became a lot harder to hide your little secret from him. Your best friend, Kun, had introduced you to Ten (and the rest of the members), when Kun officially became a member of NCT. Kun and Ten had immediately hit it off as friends, which meant you also spent a lot of time with Ten, thus leading to a blossoming friendship and later attraction. So Ten lying in your bed snoring softly wasn't that far of a stretch from a common day encounter. The difference was, today, you didn't feel like yourself. Being in a friendship with Ten meant that, yes, you saw him often, but not often enough that you couldn't keep parts of yourself private. Which is exactly what you did, especially as your tiny crush on Ten grew into something mutual, eventually leading to a relationship. The truth you were so afraid of revealing was your disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. A disorder you'd been diagnosed with since you were a your teenager. You'd been teased and bullied for it when a classmate you'd once called a friend announced your disorder to the entire school. This, in turn, had terrified you of ever telling anyone, which you had gotten away with. Ten didn't know and, if you had it your way, he'd never know. He was an idol. What did he need with a girlfriend with this disorder. However, with him hanging around a lot... "Hey? What's wrong?" Ten's voice snapped you from your thoughts. You'd been so distracted you hadn't realized his soft snoring had ceased. "Nothing," you said softly. His lips pursed, perplexed as he softly reached a hand up to brush across your cheek, something he'd done several times. But today, you didn't want it. You shied away from his hand, curling yourself up on the opposite side of the bed, cursing yourself for acting different than usual, but you couldn't help it. Ten didn't bat an eye. He simply gave you a soft smile and sat up in the large bed, but he didn't try to touch you again. "Feeling sad today?" he asked. You nodded meekly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. You paused for a moment to think it over. You truly didn't. You wished you could keep it a secret forever, because Ten might leave you. But you also knew that the stress was taking it's toll on you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." you whispered. He didn't say anything at first and you were preparing yourself for him to call you a freak and leave. Instead, he stretched his arm out and softly wrapped his pinky around yours. "I don't know much about it. But I promise I will learn," he whispered. Tears brimmed your eyes because finally, someone wasn't going to leave you.
WinWin:
You had never been much of a touchy person. Holding hands was one thing, and even then, something you weren't wholly comfortable with, but hugging was completely different. You didn't care much for hugs, especially from complete strangers that often found you rude for rejecting their hug. You barely even hugged your own family, let alone a total stranger. This was possibly what spurred on your relationship with Sicheng who, also didn't care much for physical affection, despite the fact the other members of NCT practically drowned him in it. Your relationship was just... different. At least in the minds of society because you didn't cuddle against Sicheng's chest constantly or plop down on his lap just because he was sitting down. Instead, you preferred wrapping your pinky around his or draping one of his sweaters over your shoulders. This worked for the two of you though others found it strange. However, there was an anomaly that Sicheng, though you had been together for a little over two years, had no idea about. This anomaly included the fact that sometimes, you liked hugs. Sometimes, all you wanted to do was drape yourself over your boyfriends lap and let him hold you until your mind screamed at you for the overload of affection. Sometimes you wanted him to wrap his arms around you in bed and fall asleep with you on his chest. That's what happens when you have Borderline Personality Disorder, and it wouldn't have been that big of a deal if Sicheng had known, but he didn't. It started out you longing to keep it a secret in the early days of your relationship. It wasn't something you advertised very often. However, as your relationship progressed, you knew you should have told him, but as five months turned into six, it became a crushing weight of guilt for not telling him in the beginning. Sicheng had already invested a lot of time and love in the relationship when you had not been wholly honest with him. And the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to get the words out. At this point, it wasn't even your fear of rejection because of the disorder, it was a nagging fear that your dishonesty about the disorder would drive him away from you. That would truly be a crushing point. However, as Sicheng began spending more nights at your apartment, it was getting increasingly harder to hide, especially as your mood dropped or when you suddenly began to crave affection. Times like today. The moment you'd rolled out of bed, you knew you needed some type of affection, but as Sicheng made no advance to give it to you throughout the day, your mood dropped. It really wasn't his fault. He had no idea how you were feeling, but as you finally had had enough and wrapped your arms around him from behind while he was washing the dishes after dinner, you felt him stiffen before grabbing a towel to dry his hands. "What's up with you today?" The question was an honest one, but it still felt as though you were making him uncomfortable by touching him. As your arms slacked from around him, a tear sprang to your eye but you were quick to wipe it away as he turned to face you. "I need to tell you something..." Your voice was wavering. You had no idea how he would respond. He nodded for you to continue, one of his hands gently taking hold of yours, playing with your fingers as a soft sense of relief washed through you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder." His once blank face morphed into one of confusion. "What's that?" he asked tentatively. You sighed. You had been expecting the question but that didn't make it any easier to define. "Its like having mood swings. One day I feel happy the other sad... Sometimes anti-hugs, sometimes super affectionate." You could tell he was still confused, but as he nodded and wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you against his tall frame, you let out a shuddered breath, body relaxing against him.
Lucas:
Books were never Yukhei's strong suit. He preferred numbers and basic information plotted out clearly in front of him. Books were too all over the place with too much information. He wished they could be like websites that gave him the briefest of explanations with a "read more" feature. Yet here he was, flipping through slightly crinkled pages because he wanted to truly understand, and books were always credited with having the most information. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder," you had explained earlier that day when you had ducked out of the way of one of his mega bear hugs and proceeded to slump your shoulders and beg him to give you time alone. You'd locked yourself in your shared bedroom after that and, although you had texted him to apologize for your behavior, you added that today was just an off day, your disorder really affecting your mood. "Well how can I help?" he had asked. It was your response that prompted him here, pouring over books in the local library hoping to find anything that would help him understand Borderline Personality Disorder in the best way possible. As he flipped through pages and learned, he had begun to feel several different emotions. On one end, he felt sorry that you'd had to go through the disorder alone, but on the other, he questioned why you'd never told him, even after a year of being together. However, a big part of him wondered if maybe you had been telling him, just without words, especially because you'd never tried to hide any of your mood swings. He'd just always assumed you were on your period. As the hours ticked away, Yukhei's eyes remained glued to the startlingly dry books stacked up around him, but as he learned more about the disorder and, by default, more about you, he couldn't seem to stop. At least not until his phone vibrated in his pocket and, as he fished it out, your smiling face met his eyes. He answered the facetime request and gave you a tired smile that quickly morphed into concern when he noticed your bloodshot eyes. "Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" "My boyfriend left me! That's what happened!" Were you... pouting? "I didn't leave baby, I'm at the library." Confusion flashed across your face. "Why?" "To learn more about Borderline Personality Disorder." A giggle erupted from your lips and Yukhei sure was glad to hear it, especially after reading texts about BPD leading to depression. "Why didn't you just google it?" His mouth gaped open as he dramatically clutched his chest. "Googling something so important in my significant other's life?! That's scandalous! I should do enough research to write my own 20-page essay!" This time, it was a full blown laugh. "You're a dork!" "I'm your dork!" "Well come home, dork! There's a lot we have to discuss!" Your smiling face alleviated any fears that may have been swirling around Yukhei's chest. With a nod, he slammed a book shut so hard it send a loud, slamming bang throughout the library, prompting nasty looks sent his way. Sheepishly, he waved them off and stood up. "I'll be home soon," he promised, blowing you a kiss before hanging up. Yukhei had taken the hastily thrown news a lot better than you'd expected. You knew he couldn't have learned everything, specifically because it varied person to person, but you knew that he would be there for you, even on your bad days. And that was all you could ask for.
Xiaojun:
Dejun was incredibly perceptive, even if he was incredibly dumb sometimes. He could tell when you weren't quite feeling yourself, even though he often didn't know what was causing it. It was at those times that he did everything he could to put a smile back on your face and make you feel "normal" again. He didn't understand how counter productive that actually was. It was really your fault. You were the one keeping secrets, but as the smile fell from your face the second Dejun traded the couch for the shower, you couldn't help but think that maybe he simply preferred you to be happy rather than deal with you when you weren't. Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew he was just doing what he thought would help, but now, especially in your state of mind, you couldn't shake the aching feeling in your head. "Hey, are there towels- are you crying?" Dejun's voice yanked you out of your thoughts and you brought your hands to your cheeks, rapidly trying to wipe away the clear droplets painting your face, but it was too late. Dejun had already seen. He was shirtless when he perched on the couch beside you, face etched in concern. He opened his mouth, likely to retort off some lame dad joke or tell you some funny story you'd heard a thousand times. "Can you not?" You hadn't meant to snap. The words had simply flown out before you'd had the chance to them. His face fell into a pout that you knew you often fell for, but today, it only upset you more. "Stop Dejun!" The pout fell away. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything!" "You're trying to make me smile!" He blinked, staring at you for a moment. "That's a bad thing?!" You sighed, slumping against the couch cushions, resigning yourself to the fact that he didn't understand. Then again, you didn't let him understand. "Just tell me why I'm upsetting you," he begged, all traces of bad humor gone, replaced with sincerity. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder! My mood fluctuates! And when you try to make me smile when I'm sad or mad makes me feel like you don't like me when I'm not always happy. But I can't always be happy." He stared at you in shock for a moment, mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know how to respond. An appropriate response, you supposed. You'd been friends for a while now and dating for several months, yet this was the first time you'd told him. You were about to get up from the couch, sighing as he didn't respond after several minutes, when he placed a hand on your thigh to stop you. "Why didn't you tell me?" You shrugged. It wasn't that simple. "Can you tell me the best ways to comfort you?" Again, you shrugged. A sigh released from his mouth and your head hung low. "I'm going to do some research. As your boyfriend, I want to make sure I'm making you feel better, not worse. So, while I'm doing that, I also need you to tell me if something I'm doing is making you feel worse. Can you do that for me?" His words were sincere, his intentions true. Another tear fell from your eye, dropping against your cheek, but a smile broke out across your face. "Thank you for caring," you whispered. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Always."
Hendery:
Waking up this morning had been such a struggle, even as the delightful scent of your boyfriends cooking wafted under the cracks of the door, greeting you. Usually, this would rouse you from your slumber, prompting you to creep into the kitchen and sneak a taste of the delightful breakfast. Today, however, you rolled over in the blankets and pulled the duvet over your head. Today was a lay in bed day, you just hoped your boyfriend would accept that. "Come on sleepy head! It's time to wake up!" Kunhang's annoyingly chipper voice spouted, pulling you from the confines of sleep in a less pleasant way. "No," you groaned, rolling over, burying your face deeper into the pillow. "Come on! Breakfast is ready!" He pulled the blankets off your body and you let out a loud hiss, eyes turning to bore into him. "I said no!" He dropped the blanket and backed off, lifting his hands in surrender, but you could tell he had questions. You never acted like this. "What's wrong?" You grunted, not responding, turning away from him, but he wasn't having it. "Yah! I asked you a question!" he pouted at being ignored. A growl whipped it's way from your throat. "Go look up BPD," you snapped. You could tell that he had more questions, but, after a long moment, he seemed to think better of asking them and, instead, made his way out of the room, leaving you to fall back asleep. It had to have been a few hours later when you were waking up on your own this time, the anger you had felt earlier completely gone now, replaced with your normal, chipper self. You turned over to look at Kunhang's side, releasing he wasn't there and the memories came flooding back to you along with a strong wave of guilt. You shouldn't have treated Kunhang the way you did. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the way he'd reacted to your sleeping for. With a sigh, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, padding over the floors to the door. You made your way out of the bedroom and down the hall, finding Kunhang sitting on the couch, television with the volume turned down, playing some movie he didn't look too interested in. As the floor creaked slightly under your feet, his attention shifted from the television to you and he was quick to shut off the device. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Had you really affected him? "I'm sorry for how I reacted..." you mumbled. A sigh rolled past his lips as he patted the couch next to him. You made your way to him, flopping beside him, but keeping your distance, at least until he pulled you against his side. "I understand why you did after looking up Borderinel Personality Disorder," he said. "But you couldn't have expected me to know without knowing." With a nod, you hung your head. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I thought you wouldn't like me if you knew I had a disorder..." you mumbled. Saying it out loud, it felt ridiculous. You knew he loved you. The fact that he waited for you to wake up even after how you'd treated him proved that. But it had been a fear nevertheless. "Now that I know, I can help you rather than making things worse. But in the future, please let me know. I hated watching you so upset without knowing how to help." You leaned against him, burying your face in his chest as you nodded.
YangYang:
(full fic coming soon) YangYang's youth was what truly scared you the most. He still had so much to learn. He was so naive, about some things at least. He could make you feel so good, so loved, when he'd hold you in his arms and kiss your head or when he threw himself across your lap and begged to be pet. You were scared that the second he knew the truth about you, he'd leave, or worse, treat you differently. Your older brother, Kun, had advised you to just be honest with him. To let him know when you had bad days. Yet, here you were, hiding out in your brothers bed, hoping practice would run late so YangYang wouldn't see your crestfallen face. It seemed luck wasn't on your side that day, not entirely anyway, because the door to the room opened and Kun walked in half shirtless, belt unbuckled. "Please don't strip anymore," you'd begged. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin at your words. "(y/n)?! What are you doing here?!" "I missed Yang..." "So why didn't you come to practice? You know you're welcome." Your silence was his answer and he sighed, sliding on another, not sweat-soaked shirt, and sat on the bed beside you, reaching out to gently stroke your arm. "You really should tell him," he whispered. "But what if he rejects me?" "He won't. Sis, I know him. He's not like some dirtbags you've dated in the past. And he might just be able to help you better than I can," he whispered. You knew he was right. He was always right (as annoying as it was). "Will you send him here? I don't want to get out of bed..." "Of course," he said, patting your arm one more time before getting out of bed and making his way out of the room. It was a few minutes later when a sweaty YangYang walked in, searching for your figure before sitting down beside you on Kun's bed. "You wanted to see me?" he asked. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." The words just rushed out before you could stop them, but you were thankful. This saved you from yourself. For a long moment, YangYang didn't say anything and you were beginning to think Kun had been wrong for once. "So that's why Kun had me do all that research..." Ok, that definitely wasn't what you were expecting. "Not long after we started dating, Kun made me do all this research on BPD. He even quizzed me once a week! I just assumed it was punishment for dating his sister!" A loud laugh fell past your lips. That was absolutely something Kun would do!
"Are you mad I didn't tell you?" you asked.
"Well, why didn't you?"
"I was afraid you'd leave me like my exes..."
"Then yes, I'm mad!" he said.
Your face dropped.
"I'm sorry..."
"I'll just have to teach you a lesson!"
With that, he threw himself on top of you, pressing his sweaty clothes against you as you shrieked, attempting to get away.
"Guys... not on my bed..."
105 notes · View notes
terubakudan · 3 years
Text
My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Nagata Kabi - Book Review and Impressions
Tumblr media
(light reflection) Perfect :D Hoping Tumblr doesn't flag me for this xD
Ok, I'm going to start this off with 'this is probably the first and only book review I'm going to do' xD Because I rarely do read books now, and just as rarely buy them. Also, I would have preferred to buy the English version but alas they only had the Chinese version in stock ^^"
Stumbling upon this on the Internet, I was immediately compelled to buy this, as if I knew I would love it and that Nagata's story would resonate with me.
【Short Version】 I can't recommend this book enough, it doesn't matter what sexuality you are or from what culture are you. Nagata makes sure to tell an honest and 'naked' (without embellishments) portrait of her own personal experiences. How she herself is a college drop-out (having only graduated from high school), pushed herself to live/work while struggling with depression and eating disorders, not being sure of what she wants and feeling that she doesn't 'deserve' things, realizing her own sexuality in that she likes girls, and just not feeling 'good enough'...all through her cutesy and unassuming art style.
I will say again though, cutesy art style aside, the book deals with some very heavy topics. Nagata is very honest and doesn't shy away from the gritty details, and I admire her all the more for doing so. Many yaoi and yuri comics often portray an unrealistic and fetishistic view of the LGBTQ+ community whereas Nagata's story is much more grounded and sincere. This is not an easy read, but it's not an overly depressive one either. Nagata literally struggled for years with her mental health, but ultimately found light on the other side. Not mainly through the help of others, but through her own choice to forgive and love herself.
5/5⭐ Definitely recommend and would read again. And if I could, I'd give Nagata a big hug and a heartfelt 'thank you' for sharing her story.
【Long Version】 While it's written primarily from an Asian (particularly Japanese) perspective, Nagata's experiences are ones that should resonate with anyone who has been through the same or similar things, regardless of one's personal background. And I myself, while being fortunate enough to not have gone through eating disorders or self harm, am no exception.
I grew up in an Asian (Taiwanese/Chinese Filipino) household, while my parents weren't Tiger Parents (no offense but fuck Amy Chua for thinking that's a proper way of raising your children), they still had certain expectations on their children: to find a good husband/wife, have a good education, have a 'stable' career, etc. And while I love my parents very much, I'd be lying if I said there weren't any times where I felt they were smothering me, there weren't any times where they kept on nagging and bugging me for very trivial details. My biggest pet peeve: guilt-tripping me just for wanting to spend time alone.
Tumblr media
"For me, my parents' opinion of me is absolute." (NOTE: While I won't be providing exact translations of the excerpts I used here, I'll do my best to summarize the gist of them.)
At the same time, I cared very much about their opinion of me. I made it a point to do well in school, to do things according to their wishes, and just like Nagata, I didn't know what I wanted. This even extended to caring about others' opinion of me, more than my own. In my freshman year of college, I 'went along' with being friends with someone, who while was nice to me, turned out to be a manipulative bitch skilled in passive-aggressiveness xD Being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, it was hard to fit in since people always treated me differently, it didn't occur to me I could be choosy with friends, I thought as long as they were 'nice' to me, that would do.
Asian culture is largely a collective one, where we define ourselves by our relationships with others, compared with Western culture (primarily America, I'll be using America as a reference point) where individualism is absolute, where you define yourself as you like. In Asia, it's also normal for children to still live in the same house as their parents well into adulthood, compared with Americans who are expected to move out the house once they finish high school or start college, and they're quite literally 'on their own', having to pay their own tuition, rent, etc. Where I live (Taiwan), it's normal for adults to continue relying on their parents financially well until college. Nagata for instance, while saying her parents really make her feel so pressured, is grateful that she still had a home to stay in (and she's 28!).
If you ask me though, neither a collectivist culture or an individualist culture is absolutely good nor bad. Each have their own pros and cons, and both Asian culture and Western culture could learn a thing or two from each other.
Tumblr media
After going through quite a few job applications, one of the interviewers tells her "Ganbatte!" (You can do it!) after Nagata tells her what she really wants is to be a manga artist.
Tumblr media
And sometimes that's all we need really, a small gesture or kind remark can do wonders. Even if there's no base or reason for it, it's something worth believing in.
I often have doubts if I'm doing what I really want, if I chose the right major for college, if I'm doing the right thing, if I'm 'good enough'. I didn't grow up with much self-esteem as a kid, and often derived my value from others. But even at my lowest times, a 'you're doing ok' was very reassuring to me, be it from family, strangers, or people I care about. Sometimes that's exactly what we need, it may be small but it could be the difference between continuing to wallow in depression or re-evaluating and choosing to be better to oneself.
I find it's really important to know, that however alone you may feel sometimes, there are other people out there going through the exact same thing. It's something universal, and while a lot of things are really unfair in life, each person has their own lot or burden to deal with. I have a Taiwanese friend who, while being more financially well-off than me, has terrible parents. And I mean parents who are quite so literally toxic, unsupportive of her, and would outright say the worst things to their own daughter.
Tumblr media
How depression and anxiety can feel sometimes, we can literally feel like it's impossible to breathe and be in a state of disconnection from the world.
Tumblr media
"The sounds that invaded my ears occupied my empty brain, making me unable to think at all."
Tumblr media
If you only did what your parents asked you to do, wouldn't days like those be very painful? In the end, only you can understand what you really want.
Nagata's art style is one I would describe as simple, cute, and effective. I personally think had her story been drawn in a more serious style, it would have been even harder to read, much less finish. It's also a choice that has artistic appeal to me, serious subject matter juxtaposed with a 'kawaii' art style.
Nagata also depicts very well her mental state and thoughts throughout her struggle and journey to self-actualization. Depression is a really tough thing to deal with, and sometimes we don't even realize that we have it or if we do, refuse to acknowledge it. In Asian cultures especially, mental health has always been something of a taboo subject and there is a very heavy social stigma associated with it. Nagata herself even said that her parents seemingly refused to acknowledge that their daughter's mental health was in a state of distress. In Japan, there is a concept called gaman (我慢), which is described as 'enduring the seemingly unbearable with patience and dignity', and while it is portrayed as an ideal virtue that inspires perseverance, it can be a source of heavy pressure for others. Gaman also means that you are expected to suppress whatever emotion or negative feelings you have, often for the sake of others and no matter how tough the situation becomes for you. And while I agree that through gaman you can become more selfless for others, it shouldn't have to come at the expense of your own well-being.
I was quite fortunate to have grown up in a more liberal Asian household, but even when it came to mental health, our family also adopted the same kind of attitude towards it, by carrying on as if nothing was wrong, or just not talking about it. And to be honest, there were numerous times I wished we had been more open about what was bothering ourselves at that time. Talking and being open about your feelings is not a 'weakness' but something incredibly brave to do, and it's my wish for that to slowly become more acceptable in Asian cultures, which I know is kind of a stretch, but it doesn't hurt to hope.
Tumblr media
Nagata makes the decision to clean herself up, by taking a bath everyday, habitually exercising, and no longer wearing worn-out clothes.
Depression especially can be a bitch. It deprives you even of your physiological needs, like your need for food. Nagata had to struggle with that on top of eating disorders for a long ten years. She ate so little and even felt that she didn't 'deserve' to eat, and at one point, anorexia became hyperphagia, and she would feel so guilty for eating almost expired/expired food. Things that would otherwise be simple to do also end up becoming difficult/impossible to do, like taking care of your personal hygiene, getting up from bed, doing simple tasks etc.
Thankfully, after Nagata realizes that she never truly 'valued herself', she starts to turn over a new leaf. Even just starting with cleaning herself up, she takes this as a form of 'valuing oneself' and her mood starts to improve, which her family also points out. In the end, taking care of yourself is not a selfish thing to do, it can even make you a better person who is there for others.
Tumblr media
Nagata meets up with the female escort she hired, as a means to experience human sexuality, which she had always repressed her curiosity for and treated as a taboo subject. (NOTE: And I'm glad that she met a really nice girl for her first time too!)
Sex and sexuality is also a subject that I feel is hard to talk about sometimes, which I think also owes itself to most Asian cultures being relatively conservative about it. I myself have only recently identified as bisexual, which I attribute to internalized homophobia, not wanting to admit I was into girls too. And to be honest, 'coming out' is something I'm still uncomfortable about, because I don't want to risk my relationship with my family and it's still something I would choose to be selective about with colleagues and friends. I'm grateful though that as crazy the Internet can be sometimes, it can be quite accepting and tolerant towards things that we wouldn't otherwise discuss with even the closest people in our circle. Nagata's memoir ended up capturing the hearts of many readers ever since she first published it on Pixiv.
Exploring your sexuality doesn't have to be scary, it should be something exciting and liberating. Nagata decided to take matters into her own hands, and while the days leading up to the encounter made her really nervous and she even considered not going through with it at all, she willed herself to continue, because she wanted to do this for herself, it would be pointless if she gave up after coming so far in her decision to value herself.
And it's these series of actions that she decided to do that ultimately led to her life turning out for the better, it gave her the courage to do what she always wanted: to be a manga artist, which lead to the publishing of this autobiographical memoir, something she wanted to create that would 'make people want to buy this book' and from her own preference for reading stories that 'speak of secrets people wouldn't want to tell others'.
Tumblr media
Nagata mentions what she calls 'honey': something that varies from person to person. It could be your reason for living, that thing that drives/pushes you, or even your sense of belonging. It may not be something permanent, but you can always find yourself a new one. (she mentions the last time she had her 'honey' was during her high school days, and while she has grown apart from the friends she made, she has found her new 'honey' in the form of being a full-time manga artist.)
Nagata stumbles and trips a lot on her way to being a better version of herself, but who doesn't? She admits to things not necessarily being smooth, but at least she's doing better than before. And it's that decision to at least try that counts. We don't have to be perfect, we're all human after all.
TL;DR My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness is a honest, down-to-earth, and ultimately hopeful memoir about the struggles of mental health and learning about one's sexuality. It's an amazing book, and very much worth the buy.
A big thank you if you read through all of this too. I know it's a mess and writing isn't exactly my strong point, but hopefully I've convinced some people out there to give this book a read! Please feel free to share your thoughts and I'd appreciate it very much too if you reblog/like this post.
21 notes · View notes
dailydnp · 3 years
Link
British YouTuber, presenter, and author Daniel Howell offers a practical yet poignant look into mental health – his own struggles held up as a mirror for anyone else going through the same – in his book You Will Get Through This Night.
Written in conjunction with psychologist Dr Heather Bolton, the book is an amalgamation of Howell’s own experiences and Dr Bolton’s expert perspective combined to create a reading that feels like a personal attack in the best of ways, forcing you confront, embrace and then overcome your perception of your own mental health.
Best described as, “a practical guide to taking control of your mental health for today, tomorrow, and the days after,”  You Will Get Through This Night takes readers through Howell’s mental health journey, wrapped in his trademark sense of humour and nuggets of wisdom that urge them forwards in their path to a healthier mindset.  
Speaking to 1883, Howell describes what pushed him to write the book, learning to question his normal, how upbringing and culture impacts one’s perception of mental health, the role that a sense of humour plays in getting the conversation around mental health started and more.
Was there a particular moment that solidified your decision to write this book?
I think it was just realizing the power that every single person has to tell their story and break down the wall. Because with mental health, it’s the thing that every single person has a universal experience of. And yet, we all like to go, ‘I’m fine,’ when we’re completely having a meltdown on the inside and it was me opening up, not because I thought it was a nice idea just because I thought I had to open up about what I was going through with my depression, my sexuality. I went through 27 years of terrible mental health, without even realizing that you’re not supposed to be that way. It’s the idea that we all think we are broken, born in a certain way and doomed to feel that way forever, and that’s fundamentally wrong. I thought I’d like to write this book because other people may see themselves in it, notice that they relate to something, and therefore maybe there’s something about themselves that they need to work on. I literally I just wrote the book that I wish I could have read, because for me it was a struggle to even find the resources and the advice I needed.
You’ve mentioned in the book, that you never questioned your symptoms and that you were taken aback when the doctor said you were suffering from depression. But where there moments before that you started questioning this perception of what was normal to you?
I think it became my normal to feel bad all the time, which sounds dramatic but it was me. I thought it was all to do with my choices, age, environment and my job. But mental health is deeper than that, it’s something deeper and it’s something that you can actually have a positive effect on, which is what I wish I knew earlier, and it only happened when I got to a point where I was struggling, so much that I couldn’t even function day-to-day. In my mind, there was either nothing or there’s crazy. I thought you just have to get over your problems or you are totally crazy, which is so ignorant but that’s just not the truth. So, I went to a doctor and he said I think you might have depression and that is a real thing. And there’s lots that you can do about it. It’s about just understanding everything to do with how your thoughts and feelings work, the relationship between your biology and how you interact with the world physically. It was such a slow and painful journey to learn all of that that I thought, I’m just going to put it all in here and the idea is that for someone who picks up this book, they can go right in. I’ll put it up on the shelf and then when I need to read it, I’m going to pick it up and open it  again. So, I just wanted to be super practical.
I really liked this quote in the book “breakdown can be breakthroughs”. So, when was the last time you can think of that a breakdown led to a breakthrough for you?
Every other week, like you know, all of us. It’s just human instinct to try and stick through it and ignore the problems especially with work. It’s a great excuse to lie, “ I know I feel bad but I’m really busy.” And it goes like that until things get way too intense. For me, there were moments where I felt I simply cannot keep going in my career or day-to-day life or try to pretend like I’m funny, until I deal with the fact that I’m gay. And though there was this terrible feeling like “have I hit rock bottom?” But the thing with any obstacle is that it stops you from going in the wrong direction and when you are forced to turn around usually it means you’re confronting the truth for the first time. Usually if someone has a breakdown, if you hit that wall in your life, that point where you absolutely can’t keep going until you turn around and something scary is going to be waiting, it means you’re going in the right direction. When you have these moments of confrontation, instead of procrastinating or running away, if you face it then it’s hopefully better days ahead.
Speaking of procrastination, you talk about burnout and the five-minute rule in one section. How do you strike a balance between not procrastinating and getting things done, but also not overworking yourself?
The human concept of work is very strange and it’s just one of those great examples of something that we’ve all brainwashed ourselves to see a certain way, to put value on certain things that are ultimately probably not great and inevitably lead to another dramatic moment of self-destruction and procrastination, which are both associated with so much guilt and shame.But in reality it’s not because I’m lazy that I don’t want to start this thing, it’s probably I’m terrified of starting this thing because I know that it’s important, I don’t want to fail at it. So, think of the five minute rule as ripping the plaster off, because it’s always the fear of starting. That was me, writing this book and feel like I’m not in the mood to do that, but then moment I start then I’d just write for consecutive hours. Again, it’s just snapping out of the mindset that you’re probably on, which goes I’m doing this because it’s important, and I have to do it. You probably don’t have to do it, you’re probably just running from something else. So, whether you are procrastinating, you think you’re lazy, or  you’re telling yourself that you have to put up all of your issues to deal with whatever you’re busy with, you need to flip it around and look at it, not just from in healthier way but in more honest way. I’m not going to cripple myself with guilt and shame about procrastination but I’m not going to over work myself.
You’ve also written about how one of the worst things you can say to someone going through depression is to get over it. What’s the hardest of trying to get people to understand that it isn’t something you can get over?
I think you cannot underestimate how profoundly ignorant most of the world still is about mental health and that’s not people’s fault. It’s just that science, education and culture has just not been doing the right thing even if science recently has come a long way. We’ve got hundreds of years of stigma that come from. Breaking down the barriers, by being honest, with someone one-to-one is a great way to do that. And it just telling them “I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine. I just want to tell you that, I feel that way.” And for a lot of people who say they don’t understand depression, anxiety etc, if just say I feel bad and I want to do something about it, people usually empathize with it. I also think lot of people want not take it seriously when other people say that because they feel like where was their help when they needed it? I think that the human nature is usually to feel almost jealous that someone else is asking for help or sympathy and they want to get better but you have to talk back to that voice and say maybe this is an opportunity for me to finally, be honest about how I might have been feeling the whole time. Because at some point you have to break the cycle.
Though you’ve said how you can’t underestimate how ignorant people can be, there’s a section of the book where you talk about how you uploaded your video, “Basically, I’m gay,” and braced for negativity. But that you were surprised by all the positive responses. So, what’s the most recent instance you can think of where you were pleasantly surprised by humanity?
Something that anyone that has to admit something, they’re going through and has in common, whether that’s something that’s come out as gay or someone just admitting that they’re just really stressed or feeling very anxious, is feeling like they have to constantly explain themselves. This is just an example of how you can be afraid of what people will say but when you’re really just honest about something that you’re going through, people usually relate to it on a day-to-day level. Whenever I talk to someone about mental health or sexuality, who may think its weird at first but as I describe my thoughts and feelings, they may relate to it even if they aren’t going through exact same thing as you. For me, a year after coming out and I still have that conversation on a daily basis. As a teenager, I had that deathly fear, that I couldn’t tell anyone because it would be terrible, but now I realize that actually most people are just scared. They aren’t inherently hateful; they’re just putting up that wall because they think that being vulnerable leaves them for attack. But actually, if we’re all vulnerable we’d be a lot happier.
Speaking of vulnerability, you touch upon your upbringing in the book and how it sort of taught you to keep a stiff upper lip. When did you start learn to be vulnerable and what was the biggest challenge with that?
Being a young British man, going to an all-boys school or the comedians that I looked up to on TV – everyone was so cynical. It was about trying to be as like edgy as possible and like act tough, and not show this vulnerability in case it’s seen as weakness. I think that I carried this perception all the way into my mid-20s, it seeped into every part of my personality. A lot of the stuff that I made, when I was younger, had this cynical edge to it and it was only when I started to get more followers from around the world that I began people started questioning that cynicism. At first, I’d go “this is British humour,” but a few years later, I just started to reflect about the way I was about myself and realized it was a bit more than a joke have, I actually started to let this self-hatred and the lack of empathy towards how I feel sort of eat me up. I think because only because of the people who have followed me over the years, giving me a reflection of who I am through how they’ve perceived me that I’ve been able to break free of my default programming.
About your sense of humour and how you kind of make sense of how you’re feeling through jokes, have you ever felt misunderstood -particularly given the cultural differences of your audiences  you just mentioned – like you’re trying to make light of something that a lot of people suffer from?
Yeah, there’s  a weird line and there’s lots of conversations these days about what you’re allowed to joke about. What the difference between talking about something, being comfortable with it and almost glamorizing it. But I think if the biggest problem with mental health globally is people don’t even want to admit that they’re wrong. And that they don’t even know that they were wrong. A bunch of people joking about how depressed they feel could be a  good thing because they have at least taken the first step. So, I think it’s good that people can joke about things in a way that breaks the ice as long as they all know, in the same way that my book might make them feel very personally attacked that just behind that joke that you put up to protect yourself, there is something that you should work on. Even if it’s painful, that it will make you happier.
You mention celebrating small wins in the book. What win are you celebrating today?
I have just moved house and I have a toilet that doesn’t flush yet. But I managed to stick a coat hanger, inside the toilet and to make it flush. I just got my own toilet to flush, and for me, that’s such a miracle. It was a perfect example of how we take so many things for granted in life, whether it’s something huge to do with your health, the state of the world, your privilege. But I now have a flushing toilet and everything else felt easy. I can handle it because I got some perspective.
You also touch on the importance of inner circles in the book. , When was the last time, you personally reached out to bring someone into your inner circle and do you remember how you did it?
I am so awkward and awful at making friends and it’s something that usually, I’ll have one of those breakdowns where I go, “I have no friends.” The next day, I’ll wake up and DM people, out of every three people I DM two-point-nine will just ignore me and I will be very embarrassed. But then one of them will  say “ yes, in two and a half weeks, we will go get a pizza.” And you only have to succeed a couple times ever to make friends that you hopefully will see more than once. I know from experience, it can be embarrassing, painful and not fun to try and reach out to new people but you just start adding one person, every two years until you have a friend group.
While working on this book, I know you consulted with a psychologist for it, aside from your lived experiences. What did you learn about mental health while looking at it from an outside, expert perspective?
I think one of the biggest revelations for me while writing this book is realizing how much of it isn’t a logical thought in our head. So much of mental health is controlled by our body, and the physical things that we experience. It’s about just how we breathe, how much light, and fresh air. And the problem is in our modern world, our brains are looking at everything as a threat. As soon as you realize actually, humans are not as complicated and mysterious as we think, we’re just little animals trying not to get murdered. It was freeing to know because that meant we aren’t born with this magically broken consciousness, that’s just doomed. It definitely made me look at mental health for what it is rather than the mysterious fog of pain that I thought it was for the last 10 years that I had absolutely no control over.
You’ve said that you’re obviously not done with your mental health journey, but where are you on that journey at this moment in time?
I’m doing a lot better than I was simply because I can understand what I feel, and why, and that it’s normal now. And I honestly feel like that’s 90% of it. Most people don’t ever question their lives. If they spend too much time, feeling overwhelming you stressed or if they worry too much and they’re just not enjoying life day-to-day. But just knowing that there’s something you can do about, it gives me enough hope. From writing the book, I know everything I can do to get better.
Finally, what’s one question no one has asked you so far that you wish you were asked?
I think it’s just how do I convince the other people in my life to take mental health seriously?  I realized from writing this book and now, talking about it that the biggest problem I have is that most people simply do not think the conversation about mental health, or mental health,  applies to them because they’re fine. So many people think mental health is only something for people that have crippling depression or serious anxiety disorder, but it’s just how all of us, think and feel all the time. If you have bad self-esteem, if you worry about everything, if you have a way of looking at the world that’s really negative and you expect the worst, then  you might not need to immediately have an intervention with a psychotherapist, but you need to understand your mental health. Even if you read this book and say you are totally fine, then you still need to know this stuff so you can understand why you are fine. There will be a point in life where you need to make yourself feel better and mental health isn’t about waiting until you snap, and then picking up the pieces and going on medication. It should be about knowing how to keep yourself healthy and happy so that you don’t have a breakdown. Everyone has mental health, and that’s the thing that I wish I could just shove into everyone’s faces.
25 notes · View notes
rosethornewrites · 4 years
Text
Fic: Breaking Point
Relationships: Caline Bustier & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Characters: Caline Bustier, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alya Césaire, Max Kanté, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Juleka Couffaine, Lila Rossi, Tikki
Tags: caline bustier salt, Reveal, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste Knows, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Caline Bustier Knows, ml salt, Harassment, Lila Rossi Lies, Bad Classroom Environments, Gaslighting, enablers, Bullying ,Salt, Identity Reveal, Spitefic, Swearing, Adrien Sugar
Summary: '“For instance, being a superhero is not a viable career path,” was what made her tune in, her attention fully pulled to Mme. Bustier, who seemed to be looking right at her.' 
Note: This was written based on a prompt by @norakwami.
AO3 link
------
Marinette wasn’t really paying attention to Mme. Bustier’s lecture. To be fair, it was about career options and how to achieve them, something she had researched so completely she already had a list of universities she intended to apply to, along with possible companies to intern, all carefully tabbed in a binder at home that was also slowly filling with application and portfolio ideas.
Given that she was only fourteen and still had four more years before she reached the point of applying, she was ahead of the game. Perhaps she could be considering going to another lycée instead of the feeder for Collège Françoise Dupont, perhaps somewhere private that had a focus on fashion. But she didn’t want to put pressure on her parents, who would have to pay the tuition for such an institution, when she was already winning awards and making a name for herself through designing for Jagged Stone and the up-and-coming Kitty Section, among others.
“For instance, being a superhero is not a viable career path,” was what made her tune in, her attention fully pulled to Mme. Bustier, who seemed to be looking right at her.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Marinette felt frozen by that stare, pinned like a ladybug by an entomologist. How could she know? Did other people notice her stare?
“Ladybug is almost certainly harming her civilian future through these superhero antics, which prevent her from fulfilling all her obligations.”
Alya snorted. “That’s not Ladybug’s fault—it’s Hawkmoth’s. Ladybug protects the city. And maybe Paris should pay her for her services!”
“Ladybug is a teenager who should be concentrating on school,” Mme. Bustier declared, still staring holes into Marinette.
“Ladybug has never released her age,” Adrien murmured, his voice sounding strained. “So that’s conjecture, Mme. Bustier. How does this have to do with our future careers?”
To her horror, he turned and followed her gaze to Marinette.
She felt as though she might hyperventilate, panic rising in her gut. If she was compromised, that put her family and friends at risk, put the Miracle Box at risk, played right into Hawkmoth’s hands. She’d never been good at a poker face, and she wasn’t sure whether she was managing now.
Adrien’s eyes widened, and she knew she’d failed, at least with him. Kwami, she hoped she could trust him.
“I’m glad you asked, Adrien. For instance, Marinette, would you please share your current preparation for your future career.”
All eyes were on her, and she could feel the thoughts swirling around them as she was called out. She swallowed, trying to push it all down.
“I-I… I have a binder. At home. F-fifteen different universities with fashion p-programs. In order of where I want to go most. Also c-companies that offer internships.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves—it helped a bit. “I’ve started my portfolio, including the b-bowler hat that won M. Agreste’s contest, and my work for Jagged Stone and Kitty Section, and p-pictures of clothing I’ve designed and made.”
She could hear murmurs around her, and Alya gave a low whistle beside her.
“Girl, no wonder you don’t sleep. You’re on top of this!”
Mme. Bustier’s mouth became a thin line, her lips pressed together as though she was irritated.
Marinette wished keenly that Master Fu was still around, could handle this situation. She’d come to realize Mme. Bustier was a terrible teacher, enabling bullying and shaming victims as though they were at fault for their treatment. But this was a whole new level of awful.
“Still, the way you run off during Akuma attacks interrupts your daily life and prevents you from—”
“We all run away during Akuma attacks! They disrupt all our daily lives.”
Adrien stood, his back rigid from tension.
“Marinette has been personally targeted multiple times during Akuma attacks. So have I! A lot of this has been documented on the LadyBlog. It’s traumatizing—and we keep our memories of that because we’re not the Akuma. I run and hide, personally. Why would you shame Marinette for that?”
The class fell silent, and glancing around Marinette could see the tension in their faces, their own memories of being chased by Akuma.
Adrien had moved this away from the idea of Marinette being Ladybug to her being shamed for her reaction to Akumas. He was protecting her. And she loved him all the more for it.
“There was Evillustrator,” Marinette murmured, jumping on the red herring.
She glanced at Nathanaël apologetically. He offered a sad smile.
“I had to help Chat Noir with that. It was scary. André Glacier became Glaciator and came looking for me, and Chat Noir saved me from getting frozen. And Gamer was looking for me. Chat Noir saved me again.”
She could see Max wince across the aisle.
“Reflekta turned me into her clone because she was mad at me. And it was my fault.”
Marinette turned and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Juleka.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Juleka whispered, then cringed as she realized her voice had carried far enough for everyone to hear.
She smiled, then turned back to the front.
“My own grandmother tried to turn me into coal when she was Akumatized because she was upset I wasn’t like eight years old anymore—Chat Noir saved me again there, too. And then my dad was Akumatized and Chat Noir and Ladybug had to save me again.”
Marinette hadn’t been able to transform, needing to be saved as a civilian before she could get back as Ladybug. Too many of them had been so public she’d had to trust Chat Noir would be able to hold his own until she got there—and she did, but she was afraid sometime that would be fatal.
“And I saw footage when Adrien was dropped from a building and then when Volpina pretended to drop him from the Eiffel Tower. That’s terrifying!”
She didn’t turn around to look at Lila. Instead she looked at Adrien, who was still standing, alternating between glaring at Mme. Bustier and glancing back at her with concern in his eyes.
“And then there’s mind control Akumas, like with Miracle Queen. I’m scared of Akumas, Mme. Bustier. Even when they’re across the city, they won’t always stay there, and I want to hide. And I refuse to be ashamed of that!”
It wasn’t a lie, either. Civilian her absolutely wanted to hide—and did, just behind a mask.
She turned her attention to the teacher, keeping her back straight, remembering she had Adrien on her side, even if she wished he didn’t know—damn Bustier for that. Marinette steeled herself.
“I don’t understand why you’ve singled me out to try to imply I alone am somehow failing to perform because of Akumas, but you always seem to do this. I’m at fault for being bullied. I need to be an example and not react when my belongings are destroyed and my locker is broken into. Or when someone gets me expelled by somehow putting test answers in my bag and a new Gabriel-brand necklace—supposedly an heirloom—in my locker that’s been broken into before. I’ve spent the last year feeling I’m not allowed to have emotions. But this is the last straw.”
Marinette stood, picking up her bag. When she glanced down Tikki was giving her the Kwami version of a thumbs up.
“Frankly, Mme. Bustier, you have been toxic for my mental health for quite some time. Time I’ve spent researching to discover what you’re doing isn’t appropriate for the classroom; it’s abusive and reportable. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to the M. Damocles, as well as my parents. And perhaps the Board of Governors, as I am no longer willing to tolerate this treatment and its continued harm to my education.”
With that, she marched down the stairs, past an open-mouthed Bustier, and out of the classroom, holding her head high.
Once in the open hallway, clear of the windows, she deflated.
“Well, fuck,” she whispered. “I guess I get to do research on a new collège, too.”
She supposed, at least, she’d been successful at diverting Bustier from the Ladybug accusations; the last thing she needed was for Ladybug-hater Lila to know and come after her.
“You and me both.”
Adrien’s voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin. She was relieved to see no one else had followed him. She could hear the hullaballoo of the classroom behind her, all control having been lost.
He quirked a grin. “We’re in it together, Bugaboo. As always.”
She stared, feeling like there was a hamster lolling on the wheel of her thoughts instead of running to turn it.
Adrien took her arm. “Come on. I’ll support you. Let’s go talk to M. Damocles.”
“Ch-Chat?” Marinette managed in a hiss as her brain finally caught up.
He gently guided her forward. “My Lady.”
She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or some combination of the three. But as they approached M. Damocles’ office, Marinette pushed the issue aside.
After all, she had work to do, and Ladybug didn’t leave work unfinished.
1K notes · View notes
itsflowerdomethings · 3 years
Text
DSMP character analysis [1/??]
heyo! this is for me to just talk about a character and dig into their motives and who they are! i encourage whomever sees this to reply with their own thoughts and correct me if i’m wrong!  i’ve only been watching since tommys exile. i may mess some of the older things up. all i’ve been indulging is dream smp content for months. with all this said, lets dig in!
Todays character is WILBUR SOOT! Past read more is my entire analysis and just my general thoughts
Wilbur Soot, General Wilbur, President Wilbur, Exiled Wilbur, and Ghostbur. He’s a man of many shades, and honestly quite the interesting character.
he started the drug van, enroping his best man, RIGHT HAND MAN, tommyinnit and his son fundy! debatable but, this is where he starts out being a bad dad. 
throughout the entire section of the dream smp, hes the relatable depressed person who fights with words. thats a key part. he is starting l’manberg on THOSE standards. he is fighting tooth and nail, and they don’t win physically. like, ever. they win through words and deals.
erets betrayal happens, and in my opinion, this is an inch further into his mental health declining. this sets the idea in his head that he can’t trust anyone. it may not be a big idea, but this installs that fear into our good boy wilbur. 
im zooming past this arc because honestly. i wasn’t here for it, i don’t have the best memory for it. 
so, they gain independence. through many deals that only pushed into the disc war. wild, i know. 
he plans a rigged election for HIS country, because of course its his country how could he not win. one of the people, quackity, sees this and decides to run against him. he still is sure he is going to win, with tommy at his right hand side. he gets schlatt to endorse them, but he betrays them. this further goes into the idea that he can’t trust people. its not in the cards for him. 
in the end, he is pushed out of his own country that he fought so hard for. he watches as everything he built is partially stripped away, and evidently it’s his fault. or at least, he thinks it is.
he made the election. the election that brought down l’manberg, rebranded as manberg. 
they go into exile, and he loses it. we see first hand his decent into madness as he is overcome with his own emotions. its here we get those chilling lines. “lets be the bad guys.” “dream, i want to be your vassal.” and of course many others 
its key to point out that in this time, he is projecting a lot onto tommy and outsourcing a lot of his emotions onto tommy. he says things to tommy that are just concerning. 
i want to bring us back to the fight with words, not violence.  he is now EXCLUSIVELY fighting with violence. he got technoblade, the blood god. he is going to use tnt. he is a reflection of l’manberg in a sense. l’manberg lost its ideals, just as wilbur lost himself. he holds true to some of his old ideals but the core is snatched away. 
he goes to dream, the person who he was always up against [though, he just wanted to live in peace.] 
and he was never shy with his ideals. he portrayed his ideals on what be wanted to be what everyone wanted. thats where technoblade gets the understanble misconception from. technoblade only hears from wilbur what the plan is, and thats what he presumes everyone wants. thats why techno feels so betrayed.
the day comes, and he blows up l’manberg. even though they won, he knows l’manberg won’t be what it used to, and therefore they failed and it was never going to be meant to be. and there was some nudging from dream in this area too, we’re not gonna act like dream didn’t also egg this on. 
he goes to the button, which he built in a fit of his own declining mental health which is honestly just depressing. after he blows it up, he begs his own father to kill him. he knows what he’s done and he doesn’t want to be around to see it. what he thinks he wanted finished is finished. he is done. he didn’t want it anymore. he got l’manberg gone and in his mind there was no other pathway. there was no redemption, there was no rebuilding, it was done. and so he dies. 
ghostbur is born. ghostbur is not wilbur. he insists that so heavily. he is not wilbur, and wilbur is not ghostbur. my own personal theory is that ghostbur is a projection of everything wilbur wished he had in his life, secrerly. maybe his own regrets, the misconstrude happy parts of him. it was there to remind people that wilbur wasn’t finished, but wilbur was done. wilbur was at peace but there was still things left behind that he wanted people to see, and he just projected that out into ghostbur. thats why ghostbur isn’t wilbur, because he’s just something that was projected and once wilbur “came back” at the end of the disc saga, he went away too because wilburs unfinished symphony was tommy.  it was tommy, and it will always be tommy. thats a huge constant in his WHOLE plotline, is tommy
tommy is bringing him back. he projected onto tommy in pogtopia. tommy made him president second time around. he was his unfinished symphony, and i doubt their story will end.
NOW, DEAR READERS, thats the general history of his arc and stuff, to the best of my ability. im gonna go into my own thoughts/theories.
First off, wilbur was the best president of l’manberg and i will die on this hill. He held the ideals better than anyone else did and he wanted to be it more than anyone did it, not for his own selfish reasons but because he wanted to. no one else after him held up those ideals like how he did, because they had no many laws all the time. schlatt and tubbo BOTH went against what he wanted, in some form or another. it became more political than how he ever wanted to. it was where people could be free to do what they want, in the end. under schlatt, people were under constant control. under tubbos reign it was just a mess, no one wanted to be there and the few citizens it had were spooked off or didn’t really care. it wasn’t l’manberg, it was a version of l’manberg
secondly, i think that wilbur has 100% chance for being redeemed. of course, if this is all it will ever be then its all it will ever be and its a good story end. not all storys have to end with a happy ever after. his story ended tragically. if he comes back, imo, he just has room to grow. he might realize what he did wrong, or maybe he’ll be in a better mindset and he can just personally grow from where he is. mend what he can, and apologize where he can. he can grow and i believe he should get to do so. i hope he doesn’t just become an angst magnet, y’know? i don’t want it to just be him depressed 24/7, because it shows us that people can’t get better and they will just stay the same, if not worst. his mental health took a nose dive and i just want him to be able to slowly recover from that, realistically. 
i don’t have much to say at the moment any more, if i ever have more to say it’ll be in replies.
REMEMBER, reblogs do so much more than just liking. you can respond and disagree with me, or correct and educate me, just don’t be disrespectful is all i ask! we are all growing, and we are all learning. what are your thoughts, or tidbits? let me know!! 
16 notes · View notes
trippinglynet · 3 years
Text
Drug Use for Grown Ups by Dr. Carl L Hart
“I am an unapologetic drug user. I take drugs as part of my pursuit of happiness and they work” begins Dr. Carl Hart’s newly released book, Drug Use for Grown Ups: Chasing Liberty in the Land of Fear.
Dr. Carl Hart is a professor of Psychology at Columbia University and the former the Psychology Department Chair. He is a research scientist that focuses his efforts on understanding drug use and drug addiction. His personal journey took him from being a supporter of strict drug laws with harsh penalties to being an advocate of legalization and science-based public policies.
His new book, Drug Use for Grown Ups, explains why drug policies in the United States are deeply flawed, often propped up by racist appeals and unsupported by science. Dr. Hart’s personal story is also compelling, and he effectively weaves his own narrative throughout the book providing a fresh perspective on the issues.
Dr. Hart grew up in a poor neighborhood. He used and sold drugs, and kept a gun in his car. After completing high school he joined Air Force, which started him on the path of higher education. Ultimately he earned a Ph.D in neuroscience, in large part because he wanted to solve the issue of addiction, which he blamed for many of the problems his childhood neighborhood faced.
As his knowledge grew, his perspective changed. He began to see drug abuse as a symptom of a problem, rather than its cause. Unemployment, racism, classism, poverty, and boredom contribute to drug abuse. In contrast, he recognized that physically and mentally healthy people may choose to use drugs to increase their personal happiness, without imposing any cost on society and little or no harm to themselves. Recreationally he has used, and in some cases continues to use drugs to improve his life. Among the drugs he has used are heroin, MDMA and cannabis.
Drug Use for Grown Ups has been released at a perfect time. Decriminalization of cannabis has lead to a broader reconsideration of drug policies. The voters of Oregon recently voted to decriminalize all drugs, and focus resources on treating those who experience troubles. In the coming years our social policies toward drugs and their users will be reconsidered, and Dr. Hart’s message needs to be heard loud and clear in any debate.
Let’s take a moment to review some of the themes Dr. Hart touches upon.
the War on Drugs
The foundation of American drug policy has never been the public’s good health. Instead, it has been a tool used by politicians and law enforcement to consolidate power and advance personal objectives. The War on Drugs has been and always will be a war on the poor and people of color. It has been used to stoke fear in middle America, often using deeply racist rhetoric. The prize is large: A $35 billion industry. An industry that relies on one drug crisis after another to sustain it.
A now familiar refrain began in earnest over 100 years ago, when white America was first warned of the pending dangers of drug abuse. In 1914, a New York Times article announced “Negro Cocaine ‘Fiends’ Are a New Southern Menace.” (See insert). The author, an accomplished physician, warned of the “Negro fiend’s'“ homicidal propensities, and super human abilities: “[T]he deadly accuracy of the cocaine user has become axiomatic in Southern police circles…. the record of the ‘cocaine nigger’ near Asheville who dropped five men dead in their tracks using only one cartridge for each, offers evidence that is sufficiently convincing.” [FN]
But we need not look back 100 years to see this same rhetoric. The crazed super-human negro theme appeared in 1991, when Rodney King was badly beaten by Los Angeles police. The assault was justified initially by the claim King was on PCP at the time of the beating, and the use of PCP, it was reported, can give super human strength.[FN] When toxicology showed no traces of PCP, the argument became that it was reasonable for the officers to use overwhelming force because they believe King was on PCP. [FN] Missing from news reports is the demonstrated fact that PCP does nothing to increase human strength, although it can reduce the perception of pain as one is badly beaten.
When Trayvon Martin was shot to death by George Zimmerman in 2012, Zimmerman’s lawyer argued that Mr. Martin’s drug use could have made him aggressive and paranoid [FN]. While barring testimony that Martin regularly used marijuana, the judge in the case allowed a toxicology report to be admitted that showed trace amounts of THC in his body. The amounts were well below the threshold for any type of intoxication, and suggest that he had not used marijuana for at least twenty-four hours.[FN] As Dr. Hart notes, Zimmerman’s “[defense team] reverted to the familiar and tired marijuana-crazed Negro script, illustrating the enduring persuasive power of this myth.”
And in 2014, while peacocking his proposed harsh drug legislation, Maine Governor Paul LePage sounds the familiar tune of the negro menace coming to town, and leaving in their wake a trail of drug-fueled destruction and impregnated white girls.
Wait, what? Impregnated white girls? Yup, read (or better yet, watch the video):
I’ve got a bill into the legislature right now to take the traffickers….these are not the people who take drugs….These are guys with the name D-Money, Smoothie, Shifty. These types of guys, they come from Connecticut and New York. They come up here, they sell their heroin, then they go back home. Incidentally, half the time they impregnate a young, white girl before they leave, which is a real sad thing because then we have another issue that we got to deal with down the road.
A racist dog whistle through a bullhorn, cynically used by the Governor of one of the whitest states in the nation.
These drug laws, enacted via race-based fear mongering, are often drafted to primarily impact poor and BIPOC communities. Selective enforcement further leverages their discorporate impact on vulnerable populations. Dr. Hart notes, for example, that the infamous 1973 Rockefeller drug laws in New York State created mandatory 15 years to life sentences for the possession of small amounts of heroine or other drugs, and “More than 90 percent of those convicted under the Rockefeller laws were black or Latino, even though they represented a minority of drug users.” And one should not forget the crack cocaine laws, which provided penalties of 100 times that of powdered cocaine, despite there being little difference between the two compounds other than the manner in which they are ingested (smoking vs. snorting), and the population perceived to be using them (black vs. white).
The False Science of Drug Abuse Policy
"There are virtually no data on humans indicating that responsible recreational drug use causes brain abnormalities in otherwise healthy individuals. "
As a research scientist, Dr. Hart is able to go beyond reviewing the contemptible motivations and tactics of some of the anti-drug crusaders, and addresses head on the science of drug use. Drug policy should be routed in public health concerns, not in political power grabs. U.S. government action should be designed to promote those values articulated in our Declaration of Independence, which guarantees our citizens the birthrights of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Dr. Hart correctly notes that the Declaration of Independence “proclaims each person’s right to live as they see fit, as long as they do not interfere with others’ ability to do the same. And it declares that governments are created ‘to secure these rights,’ not to restrict them.”
A common sense approach to drug regulation is for the government to balance public health concerns and an individual’s pursuit of personal happiness, using scientific data to weigh the costs and benefits of restricting individual freedom. The first step in this process is to look at objective, peer-reviewed scientific studies of drug use. It turns out this isn’t as easy as it should be.
First, studies often show that either the harm from drugs isn’t particularly high. For example, back in 1972, Richard Nixon declared drugs to be “Enemy Number One”, and the phrase “The War on Drugs” became popularized, which included aggressive prosecution of marijuana use. This was simultaneous with Nixon’s own Shafer Commission releasing its finding, following a comprehensive, science-based analysis of the issue of marijuana use in the United States. It found “No significant physical, biochemical, or mental abnormalities could be attributed solely to their marihuana smoking” and recommended decriminalization of its possession.[FN] It’s no surprise that one of Nixon’s closest aids later told a journalist that the War on Drugs was a war on the “antiwar left and black people”[FN]
"Over my more than twenty-five-year career, I have discovered that most drug-use scenarios cause little or no harm and that some responsible drug-use scenarios are actually beneficial for human health and functioning."
But what about studies that do find drugs to create some type of harm? As Dr. Hart developed his professional expertise he came to a troubling conclusion: “I came to realize that drug-abuse scientists, especially government-funded ones, focus almost exclusively on the detrimental effects of drugs, even though these are, in fact, a minority of effects.” And concluded, “over my more than twenty-five-year career, I have discovered that most drug-use scenarios cause little or no harm and that some responsible drug-use scenarios are actually beneficial for human health and functioning.”
Dr. Hart calls out bias at National Institute of Drug Addiction, and in particular, the roll of Dr. Nora Vokow, NIDA’s director. NIDA is a government agency, with an annual budget in excess of $1 billion. Many scientists rely on NIDA grant money to do their studies. While recognizing Dr. Vokow as an accomplished researcher, Dr. Hart also paints a picture of a bully, who overstates the negative impact that recreational drugs have on the brain, while essentially ignoring any benefits. Many scientists don’t publicly share their views for fear of repercussion, including the loss of critical funding from the NIDA. In short, “it is difficult to disentangle politics from science when dealing with a federal organization such and NIDA.” Personally, I doubt that a research agency that names itself “National Institute of Drug Addiction” rather than the “National Institute of Drug Health” is likely to produce unbiased analysis anytime soon.
Unfortunately, the issue goes beyond the almost inevitable bias in U.S. government funded studies. Even when a scientific study is well designed, researchers can interpret the results to support their own pre-conceived notions, an issue Dr. Hart provides evidence of. The press can then take the study and further distort findings with sensational headlines. Dr. Hart takes the time to walk through several examples where these distortion have occurred as well. He also provides a basic framework on how to read studies, and to interpret their results. He even spends a fair amount of pages criticizing his own early work, which reflected a lack of working knowledge of the substances being studied, resulting in flawed study design.
Finally, the government can then selectively pick studies to support whatever policy they wish to pursue, typically one that will require more government and more funding for law enforcement. We have already seen how the Nixon administration ignored its own committee’s findings to pursue an anti-drug agenda. The prohibition of LSD and psilocybin was also driven almost entirely by politics, with barely a fig leaf of scientific data to support it, and only after over fifty years of active repression of scientific research is the therapeutic value of these substances once again being documented in double blind studies.
And for MDMA, a drug that has always shown significant promise for treating psychiatric conditions, the DEA effectively shut down research into its benefits in 1985, arguing MDMA need not have caused any actual harm to be placed in Schedule I, and that a potential for abuse was sufficient. [FN] Today, both psilocybin and MDMA are on the verge of being available for legal use under medical supervision. Even Peter Jennings and ABC News took our politicians to task for their treatment of MDMA in a 2004 special news report. (See insert).
The hypocrisy and personal greed of politicians who promote the War on Drugs is clear. But perhaps no clearer than in the case of John Boehner, the former Republican Speaker of the House, who opposed cannabis during his three decades of government service. He retired in 2015 and three years later did a complete about face from his prior thirty years in government by supported cannabis legalization. Why the quick change? He joined the board of Acreage Holdings, a Canadian firm that is the largest multi-state owner of cannabis licenses and assets in the United States. Shockingly, when asked about regrets in promoting an anti-Cannabis that resulted in mass incarceration, he noted “I don’t have any regrets at all” and when pressed elaborated “The whole criminal justice part of this, frankly, it never crossed my mind”. As Dr. Hart notes, Boehner doesn’t “seem to give one fuck about the extensive harms caused by the prohibitory policies he once supported.”[FN]
Stigmatization and The path to effective policy
We’ve already seen the harmful motivation of politicians, the challenges of bunk science, but a third factor really colors everything. The stigmatization of drug users.
A few years back, when Trippingly.net was suddenly gaining unexpected media attention, an interviewer asked why I had started a “harm prevention website”. Irritated, I shot back that Trippingly was not a harm reduction website. The confused and well-intentioned interviewer asked me what Trippingly was, if not focused on harm reduction. I stumbled at bit, before clumsily declaring it to be an “awesomeness enhancing website”.
It wasn’t an unfair question really. At the time, virtually every website that discussed the recreational use of drugs wrote disclaimers that they didn’t advocate the use of drugs, and hid behind the veil of “harm reduction.” I didn’t even immediately understand my own frustration at the question, but underlying my emotional outburst was frustration of the very premise of the question; the premise that any website that focuses on drug use must be dedicated to reducing some type of harm, despite almost all Trippingly’s content being focused on the positives I perceived associated with psychedelics and many other drugs.
Dr. Hart also bristles at phrase “harm reduction”. For him, “It doesn’t capture the complexities associated with grown-up activities such as love or war or drug use. Instead, it preoccupies us with drug-related harms. And the connection between harms and drug use is reinforced repeatedly through our speech.” Maximizing the safety of any activity, whether it be driving a new car, engaging in a new workout regime, or embarking on drug use has safety as an element, but not the primary focus. Dr. Hart suggests a better phrase would be “Health and Happiness”, which focuses on both using compounds safely, and using them in a manner that promotes personal happiness.
Again, effective public policy is one that balances the health of the user (and any concurrent costs to society) and the user’s happiness and personal freedom. The current prohibition culture fails society and users alike by creating more problems than it solves.
The use of virtually any recreational drug in an appropriate setting by a healthy user is likely to be safe at a reasonable dose. Troubles begin when a user takes a drug in an unsafe environment, at an inappropriate dose or when the drug has been adulterated. The criminalization of drug use has made each of these problems worse, not better.
The first step in safe drug use is education and information. A drug user should have access to clear, science-based information on how, where and how much to take a drug. And the drug user should have access to pharmaceutical grade compounds. The quickest route, of course, is legalization of all drugs, including the legalization of sale and distribution of pharmaceutical grade drugs. Until that day, providing education to drug users about the effects, dosages and risks coupled with inexpensive and anonymous testing of psychoactive compounds would go a long way toward true harm reduction.
Let’s consider this proposition by examining one of the most controversial drugs, heroin. Remember, Dr. Hart has noted that he has used heroin for years, without creating any social harm, and suffering no apparent adverse medical effects. He even deliberately used heroin daily to develop a dependency to better understand withdrawal (very unpleasant, but manageable).
We have all been bombarded with the latest drug crisis, the Opioid Crisis. When we dig down a bit, the crisis is not quite what it seems. Let’s take heroin as an example. Heroin presents risks to the user. But Dr. Hart introduces us to Barbara Broers, a professor at the University of Geneva, who notes (in a quiet, and matter-of-fact tone), “Heroin is one of the safest drugs.” Dr. Hart reaction at hearing this at the time likely reflects most people’s: “I’m not exactly sure what I said or if I even said anything, but I am certain that the incredulous look on my face communicated, ‘Get the fuck out of here!’”
Dr. Hart next systematically walks through the risks and statistics associated with opioid use: most heroin users do not become addicted, but risks increase if you are young, unemployed or have co-occurring psychiatric disorders. Perhaps more importantly for public policy, the real concern is adulterants in heroin. The presence of fentanyl when a user is expected heroin can kill. The issue isn’t that fentanyl is so inherently dangerous. It’s that the effective dose of heroin is much larger than that of fentanyl, and the unexpected substitution can easily cause a user to overdose.
The unpredictability of the heroin supply has driven many users to take prescription pills, such as Percocet or Vicodin, however, these drugs contain only a small amount of opioid and a larger dose of acetaminophen. So a user chasing a opioid high might be tempted to take several pills to achieve their goal, but in doing so risk liver damage from the acetaminophen. Similarly, users that combine opioid and a sedative, such as alcohol, greatly increase their risk.
Note, that none of these issues are inherent in the use of heroin. They are caused by the prohibition of heroin, which creates both an unreliable black market and an information gap. Dr. Hart aptly concludes: “People are not dying because of opioids; they are dying because of ignorance.”
The same argument can be made with almost all drugs that are subject to the prohibition. For example, next time you read about an overdose death on MDMA, in all probability the death is the result of the drug’s true content or strength being misrepresented to users, or the drug being mixed by the user with other drugs.
A Note on Drug Exceptionalism
No all reform efforts rest at the feet of politicians. We all share responsibility to move the ball forward. Most readers of Trippingly are seeking information about psychedelics. The psychedelic community historically is unusually well educated, financially stable and predominantly white, although for the past few years I have witnessed a rapid and welcomed demographic diversification. Nonetheless, even with the shifting demographics, one will quickly encounter drug exceptionalism in our community.
Dr. Hart recounts being approached by a middle-aged white military veteran who shared his experience with “plant medicines” he used not to “get high” but to facilitate his “spiritual journey”. Dr. Hart felt some contempt, not anger at the man personally, but a general annoyance “with the mental gymnastics that some psychedelic users perform in order to distance themselves from other drug users.”
I have always advocated for the recreational use of drugs, along with the use for personal growth and healing. In many ways I believe the lines people draw between these categories are fairly arbitrary and almost always self-serving. As a frequent public speaker, I often encounter drug exceptionalism. Almost always certain drugs are viewed in a favorable light, while others viewed negatively. Tellingly, which drugs belong in which bucket varies predictably depending on my median age and race of my audience.
My first observation speaking to groups is that once I declare myself as a strong proponent of the recreational use of drugs, including the recreational use of psychedelics, I find most of the audience seems to breath a collective sigh of relief. Yes, it’s ok to have a good time on psychedelics and not have to always deal with heavy stuff. Here’s your permission slip. Enjoy.
But then things get tricky. I don’t view the use of psychedelics as being in any way morally superior to the use of any other compound. I do believe (with certainty) that certain drugs require a higher experience level and diligence than others. Some drugs are plain simple to use. Others are not. However, in the psychedelic world there is a common hierarchy of drugs, which might look a little like this: Ayahuasca> mushrooms/LSD> MDMA> Adderall> crystal meth> heroin. I suspect that almost everyone in an average psychedelic discussion group would agree with this ranking if they were entitled to switch only one ranking. Dr. Hart takes this thinking to task.
First, he notes that the distinction between having “a good time” and healing or spiritual enlightenment is often difficult to parse. “Sacred experiences that positively affect one’s self-perception, worldview, goals, and ability to transcend one’s difficulties are hard to separate from one’s feelings of pleasure or happiness.” What’s more, he notes he has experienced all these effects after taking non-psychedelic drugs.
Dr. Hart goes on to note that he wouldn’t classify MDMA as a psychedelic. “It is an amphetamine, period.” And of course he is right. MDMA creates an experience that is distinct from many other amphetamines, but its chemical composition makes it an amphetamine. Moreover, the subjective experience of ecstasy is far more closely aligned with other stimulants than any classic psychedelic. Nonetheless, Dr. Hart is undoubtedly correct in his conclusion that “MDMA is categorized as a psychedelic by respectable, middle-class white folk because they use and enjoy it.”
We owe it ourselves and others to look beyond this type of elitism. Choose your own intention but abandon any pretense of superiority when it comes to our substance of choices.
Closing Thoughts
While Drug Use for Grown-Ups is an important book, it is also an enjoyable read. Some of Dr. Hart’s most moving material only relates tangentially to drugs. His relationship with his wife and son and the racism they encounter are powerful. The risk associated with vulnerability Dr. Hart describes is heart breaking, and an important read for anyone who has not experienced systemic racism. Hart’s own struggle to be open about his drug use, and his call for others in positions of power (and privilege) are important messages to the growing mass of middle and upper class people who have discovered drug use to be a powerful way to improve their quality of life.
A new War on Drugs is starting. It is a cultural war, in which we can no longer afford to allow half truths and outright lies be told. And war in which we must not allow people to be marginalized because their choice of drug is not our choice of drug.
15 notes · View notes
nerdzzone · 4 years
Text
Light After Dark: Chapter One
Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC
______________
April. 12. 2020
Stress.
Everyone was feeling it these days. Pandemics will do that to people. Especially when the world that everyone knew and loved had crumbled into an entirely different, almost unrecognizable version of itself.
Restaurants were closed. All stores that were deemed non-essential were shuttered. The streets were empty.
It was an odd kind of bittersweet. It was heartbreaking to see all the bustling cities turn into ghost towns, but it was good because it meant that people were listening. People were caring about their vulnerable friends and neighbours, their elderly grandparents, the health care workers who fought tirelessly to save those who needed their help. 
It was a necessary evil, but nevertheless it was odd to see and the uncertainty of how the future would unfold was anxiety inducing.
At first, I wanted as much news as possible. Staying informed of everything happening in every affected country gave me some comfort. It was as if it somehow gave me more control, but I quickly realized that wasn't the case. It gave me no clearer indication of how or when things would end or when some kind of normality would return. It left me overwhelmed and drowning in hypothetical worse case scenarios when really the truth was that no one had any idea. Even the experts couldn't say what would happen next. It was all just guess work and while some of it was educated, most of the articles were not and it was turning me into a nervous wreck.
So I decided to disconnect. I decided to trust that I would be informed when the number of cases dropped and the lockdown was lifted and trust that the process would not be sped up by me consuming as many statistics and projections as I could find.
Turning off was hard though. I wasn't one of the lucky few who could simply do their job from home, I had nothing to fill my days. I had also chosen to isolate with my parents in the lovely house they'd bought a few years earlier on the beautiful island of Jersey. In some ways this was a lucky choice as the risk was far lower than in London where I was living, but it was quaint and the lack of hustle and bustle made me feel even more restless.
Which was how I found myself out exploring the trails. 
My mother had kicked me out of the house when she caught me doing one of my niece’s art projects for her out of boredom. My niece hadn't wanted to do it anyway, so I didn't see the harm, but my mother had reminded me that she was seven and didn't get to just opt out of schoolwork if she wasn't in the mood. She then cited some article she'd found about how the government were still encouraging people who were feeling cooped up to go outside to exercise once a day and tossed me my shoes and bag before pushing me to the door.
I'd wandered sulkily at first, frustrated that at thirty I was in a situation that had my mother tossing me outside the way she did when we were kids and our endless energy was getting on her nerves. But I soon realized she was right. It was a beautiful island and I should appreciate the opportunity to explore it. So I found a map, picked a destination and then hiked for almost an hour until I'd reached the viewing point I was looking for.
I had to admit it was a beautiful view as I looked out over the ocean, sitting on the little bench I'd found, but the peace it brought was short-lived. I started wondering if I really should have sat down at all considering I had no idea who had been there before me. My legs were tired so I had figured it was worth the risk as long as I didn't touch anything, but was it really?
Sighing into the mask that covered my face, it struck me again how strange the world currently was. Two months ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about sitting on a public bench or worried what would happen if another group joined me in the little clearing I'd found, but now every stranger was a potential threat.
I quickly grew frustrated with my negative thoughts. The walk was supposed to get me out of my head and I was annoyed that I couldn't shake it, couldn't think of anything else except the stupid pandemic for even just a few minutes. The mask on my face suddenly felt suffocating and I just wanted to get home so I could rip it off.
Rising from the bench, I checked the time on my phone before tossing it back into my bag with a sigh and heading off down the trails. I was in a world of my own as I walked. Day dreams about how things would be now if none of this had ever happened filled my head and then, when the inescapable reality broke through my thoughts, I pondered what kind of new cocktail I could try when I got home to ease the pang of loss that seemed to constantly fill my stomach.
I was in the midst of drooling over a prosecco and elder flower concoction that I'd recently read a recipe for when suddenly it felt like I was hit by a truck.
I landed on the ground, flat on my back, fighting to breathe as the wind was knocked right out of me. My chest was tight and my vision was blurry as I felt a familiar panic rising in my chest. Did I bring my inhaler? Where was my bag? What had even happened?
As the thoughts raced through my mind, I could vaguely hear the sound of someone next to me.
"Are you alright?" They asked, their tone conveying a similar panic to the one I was feeling. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
I nodded as the spasm in my chest subsided, but my weak lungs seemed to struggle to recover from the shock. I coughed into my mask as I forced myself to sit up, looking frantically for my bag and spotted it a few feet off to the side. My breath was coming out in short wheezes as I struggled to move closer to it, but the man was much faster. He thrust it into my arms, watching me like a worried puppy as I quickly dug through it.
Relief flooded through me as my hand wrapped around my inhaler and I quickly pulled down my mask as I pressed it against my lips. It took a few moments, but I felt myself calm down as the tightness began to subside and my body relaxed. It wasn't until I'd taken a few deep breaths that the man spoke again.
"Are you alright?" He repeated, clearly realizing I was in a much better position to actually give a response. "I'm so sorry."
I nodded as I finally took a good look at who I was talking to and suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe again for an entirely different reason. He had a baseball hat pulled low on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity, but it didn't work as I realized I was face to face with Superman himself, Henry Cavill.
"Y-yeah, I'm, uh, I'm fine, thanks," I sputtered out. "What happened?"
Henry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he squatted next to where I was sitting on the dusty trail.
"I was running and I crashed into you," He admitted. "I wasn't paying attention and didn't see you around the corner."
"Oh," I nodded, still trying to come to terms with the situation. "I wasn't paying attention either to be fair. It's not your fault."
He pulled a face that made it clear that he didn't necessarily agree with that statement, but he didn't argue.
"Are you really alright?" He asked again, guilt written all over his face. "You fell really hard and then you weren't breathing. I thought I'd killed you."
I snorted a laugh, quickly covering my face as it turned into a cough.
"I'm okay," I insisted, my voice raspy. "And for the record I don't have that stupid virus either. I have asthma. I think I got winded when I fell and it triggered an attack."
"Shit," Henry rubbed his face nervously. "So I almost did kill you."
"Nah," I smiled, appreciating how genuinely bad he felt about the situation. "You can't be blamed for my broken lungs."
He chuckled and flashed me a smile before standing and holding out a hand for me. I took it happily, but once he'd pulled me to my feet another issue became apparent. As soon as I put weight on my left foot, I crumbled into Henry's arms, gasping in pain.
"Whoa, I got you," He soothed as he caught me. "What hurts?"
"My ankle," I groaned, shifting all my weight to my right foot and off of him.
Henry's brow furrowed in thought before his eyes widened like a little light bulb had gone off in his brain.
"There's a park nearby," He informed me. "Can I take you there and look it?"
I raised an eyebrow as I hopped slightly to keep my balance.
"I don't remember the Superman movie where Clark Kent went to medical school."
There was a brief flash of surprise on his face when he realized I knew who he was, but it disappeared almost instantly as he chuckled and shot me a smirk.
"I can't say that he did," He confirmed. "But as someone who had to stay in pretty decent shape for that role, I'm more familiar than I care to admit with sports injuries."
"I don't think being bowled over by a man with muscles bigger than my head counts as a sport," I matched his smirk. "But I would appreciate your opinion if you don't mind looking at it. It hurts quite badly and I'm clueless with this stuff."
"Of course," Henry nodded. "Ready?"
Before I could even answer, Henry had one arm tucked under the back of my knees and was holding me bridal style in his arms. I gasped quietly at suddenly being lifted off the ground, but my surprise quickly turned into awe at the ease with which he had picked me up and how he was now walking quickly down the trail as if I weighed nothing at all. It had been far too long since I'd been in a position this intimate with a man and my mouth suddenly felt dry as his biceps flexed under my back and I couldn't help, but imagine what they would look like if we were in other intimate positions.
Stopping those thoughts as fast as they appeared, I pulled my mask up to hide my reddening cheeks.
"We are definitely not six feet apart..."
My mumbled words were muffled even more by the mask covering my mouth, but the shake of Henry's shoulders as he chuckled and the wink that he shot me made it obvious that he'd heard me loud and clear.
****
"Alright, well, it's pretty swollen, but I don't think it's broken," Henry informed me as he sat on the bench of the picnic table he'd placed me on. He'd spent a few minutes wiggling my foot around, watching my response before announcing his opinion. "I think it's probably just twisted or sprained."
"There goes my dancing career." I sighed dramatically in an attempt to make it clear I was joking, but the slight drop of Henry's jaw and the guilt that riddled his face meant I'd missed the mark. "Kidding! I'm kidding. My lack of coordination killed that dream when I was a child. I'm a baker. Or rather, I was a baker."
Henry quirked an eyebrow at my change of phrasing.
"Decided on a career change?"
I looked down, wishing I hadn't brought it up in the first place. I was starting to accept the way things were, but it wasn't something I was eager to discuss just yet.
"I didn't get a chance to decide really," I started to explain, my voice suddenly coming out much meeker than it had before. "The pandemic kinda made the choice for me."
"Oh," Henry frowned. "Well, it can't go on forever. I'm sure they'll start letting places reopen by the summer."
"Not my place," I smiled half-heartedly in an attempt to hide some of the self-pity I was wallowing in. "I put all my eggs in one basket...A basket which the pandemic then threw off a cliff."
Henry chuckled at my explanation, but there was sympathy on his face.
"Is there no chance you could pick up where you left off?"
I sighed, but shook my head.
"I opened my own bakery in January," I admitted. "I barely had it up and running when the pandemic hit and with my asthma, I'm pretty vulnerable so I closed up shop as soon as things started heading south. I sunk all my savings into it though so I don't have enough to keep it a float. I was past the point of no return after only a few weeks of being shut."
Henry was quiet for a moment and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I realized that I'd massively overshared my problems with a stranger who was simply trying to make polite conversation. I opened my mouth to spout out some apologies when Henry cut me off.
"I'm very sorry to hear that."
His eyes met mine as he spoke and even though it was a simple sentence, it put me at ease. His eyes were warm and comforting and it was clear there was sincerity to his words. Not wanting to burden him too much though, I simply shrugged.
"It could be worse," I pointed out. "I'm healthy, my family are all healthy. People have lost a lot more to this virus than I have."
"Just because people have lost more, it doesn't make you loss insignificant."
I had heard his words before and I appreciated the sentiment, but it still felt hard to grieve for a lost business when an incomprehensible number of people were grieving for lost loved ones. 
"You sound like my therapist," I teased, feeling a strange warmth in my stomach when a smile slid onto his face. He really was very handsome. It was no wonder why women and men all around the world would kill to get this close to him. "Anyway, I should probably call my dad and see if he can pick me up. I don't think I'll be able to walk home."
Henry nodded and passed me my bag from where it was placed on the ground. He waited patiently as I made the call, arranging for my dad to meet me on the road I could see running past the park just up a small hill. Once it was all set up, I turned back to Henry.
"Thanks so much for all your help," I smiled. "I think I'll be okay for now though, you don't need to waste any more of your day."
"It's not a waste," Henry argued. "Besides, I still maintain this whole mess was my fault so it's the least I can do to help you up that hill when your dad arrives."
"You really don't need to," I insisted. "I can hop or crawl or something."
A laugh slipped from Henry's mouth as he shook his head.
"As entertaining as I'm sure that would be to watch, it wouldn't be very decent of me to let you struggle like that," He held firm, clearly not one to back down easily. "How about as a trade off for my assistance, you can give me your number?"
I snorted a laugh as I looked at him in disbelief.
"You want my number? Is that a joke?"
"No!" He grinned from ear to ear as he fished his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. "It's the least you can do after I gave you my expert medical advice."
"Wow, Mr. Cavill. Very smooth," I smiled, my cheeks heating up as I rattled off my number. He entered it in carefully before looking up at me again.
"Now, I just need a name to go with it."
"Oh! How rude of me." My blushed deepened when I realized I hadn't even introduced myself. "I'm Brooke."
"Brooke," Henry repeated as he typed it into his phone. "It's nice to meet you, Brooke."
"You too," I agreed before deciding it was time to to turn the attention back to him. "So, what brings international superstar, Henry Cavil, to the little island of Jersey?"
"It's my home," He informed me, a fond smile on his face. "I grew up here so when production got shut down due to the pandemic, I decided to come here to isolate with my family."
"What an amazing place to grow up," I said, my words dripping with envy. "You must have had the run of the island!"
"We did," Henry nodded with a chuckle. "I have four brothers so my mother always knew we'd keep each other safe and let us do what we pleased for the most part."
"Four brothers?" My jaw dropped slightly at the thought. "I have one sister and that was more than enough siblings for me."
"It was a lot," Henry agreed. "But it was nice. I love having a big family and we all went to boarding school so there wasn't five of us in the house together all the time."
"That makes it easier," I nodded. "Are you close?"
"Absolutely! I'm closest with my younger brother because we're only two years apart, but we're all quite good friends. We try to get everyone together at least once a year if our schedules permit it."
He grinned as he spoke and it was clear that he loved his family very much. I couldn't help, but return his smile.
"That's really nice."
"Are you close with your sister?"
"I am," I nodded. "It's part of the reason I'm here, I guess. My parents moved here a few years back and she decided to bring my niece here to isolate so they could help look after her. My brother-in-law is a paramedic so he knew things were getting bad long before the lockdown started and he felt it would be safer for her not to be in the house with him in case he gets exposed. My sister is working from home though so home-schooling Molly by herself while trying to do her own work would be tough. Since Jersey is obviously safer for me too with my asthma, I decided to tag along when they came over from London way back at the beginning of March so I can help my sister with Molly too."
I felt like I was rambling and oversharing again, but Henry's eyes were on me the entire time and he never once seemed disinterested. It was refreshing to meet someone who was actually interested in having a proper conversation.
"That sounds like a very sensible choice," He nodded when I was finished my explanation. "It must be hard for your niece to be separated from her dad so I'm sure she appreciates having you around. A couple of my brothers are in the military and I know when they've been deployed, the kids really struggle."
"She's doing better than I expected, but there's days when we can tell she's having a hard time," I admitted. "Are you just isolating with your parents?"
"No, no, we're doing a similar thing to you," Henry smiled. "One of my brothers was over visiting at the beginning of March during a school break so when there was talk of schools closing, they decided to just stay over here. So it's my parents and I, plus my brother, his wife and their three kids. Oh, and my big fluffy dog."
My whole face lit up at the mention of a dog before I could even control myself.
"You have a dog?!" I practically squealed, making Henry's shoulder shake as he chuckled. "Do you have pictures?"
"Of course!"
Henry picked up his phone from where he'd placed it on the table and quickly opened his camera roll. From where I was sitting, perched on the table above him, I could see dozens of pictures pop up on the screen, most of them of a big fluffy, black and white dog. He scrolled for a moment before tapping on one and turning the phone towards me.
"Awwwe," I cooed, looking at the big goofy grin on the dog's face. "What's his name?"
"Kal."
I stared at him for a moment, confusion written all over my face.
"You named your dog Cow?"
Henry tossed his head back laughing, shaking it slowly.
"No, not cow! Kal!" He emphasized the 'L' as he clarified. "As in Kal-El."
"Ooh, I get it," I giggled, realizing my mistake. "Wow, you're a nerd."
"I am," Henry chuckled, not fazed by my jab. "If you think naming my dog after Superman is bad, wait until you hear how I've been spending all this free time."
I wrinkled my nose in mock disgust.
"Let me guess...some video game like...World of Warcraft?"
Laughter once again erupted from Henry, making me laugh at the sight.
"No, surprisingly not," He shook his head. "Even though I did almost miss the call for Superman because I actually was playing World of Warcraft..."
"Oh my god, really?" I raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe someone who looked like him was into something that many people consider so uncool. He nodded in confirmation before I got us back the point. "I need to hear that story too, but what have you been doing with your free time then if not gaming? Lifting cars to keep those muscles in perfect condition?"
Now it was Henry's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Cars?" He questioned, but I simply shrugged in response. "No, not that. Well, I mean, I do spend a good portion of my day keeping fit, hence this fateful run, but what I was referring to is this..."
Henry flipped to a picture on his phone and showed me. I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking at so I took a guess.
"Painting figurines?"
"Pretty much," He nodded. "It's all tied in to gaming. They have a whole world and lore created about it."
I giggled and shook my head in mock disbelief.
"If only your fan-girls could see you now..."
"Oh, they love it," He smirked. "I posted the picture on my Instagram and apparently they find my nerdy side rather endearing."
"They're just blinded by your handsome face," I teased. "And your gentlemanly manners."
"Most likely," Henry agreed with a grin that filled me a warmth. "Speaking of, I think your dad has arrived."
I looked over my shoulder towards the road and spotted a man waving his arms.
"Yep," I nodded, shifting over to the edge of the picnic table. "Now, how are we going to do this? Can I hold your-"
Before I could finish my sentence, Henry had his arm tucked under my knees and lifted me up bridal style once again.
"Show off," I teased, reaching back to grab my bag from the table just before Henry started the walk up the hill. "I think you're just trying to impress me with your strength."
Henry glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.
"Is it working?"
It was, but I shook my head.
"No, not at all," I lied. "If the tables were turned, I could carry you just as easily."
I was jostled slightly as Henry laughed at that bold statement.
"You're much stronger than you look then," He informed me as we got to the top. “Hold on to me now."
I listened to his instruction, keeping one arm draped around his shoulders as he lowered me to the ground, letting me lean my weight on him and off my left foot.
"Henry, what a pleasant surprise!" My dad greeted us, making me raise an eyebrow in suspicion of his rather familiar greeting of my new friend. "What are you doing here?"
"Unfortunately, I'm to blame for your daughter's injuries, Mr. Harris," Henry explained looking rather sheepish once again. "We collided on the path."
"It wasn't his fault," I insisted. "Neither of us were paying attention and he was kind enough to check me out after."
My dad glanced between the two of us, curiosity written all over his face.
"Check you out?"
My cheeks heated up as I realized how he'd chosen to interpret those words and I rolled my eyes.
"Check my ankle out," I clarified. "He says it's probably just sprained, but I can't put much weight on it."
"Well thank goodness Dr. Cavill was here to assist you," My dad teased, his smirk making me suddenly very aware that Henry still had his arm around my waist. "Your mother is worried sick though so we should probably get you home."
I nodded and hobbled towards the car with Henry's support. Once I was settled safely in my seat, I looked up at him.
"Thanks, Henry," I smiled. "I really appreciate your help."
"Anytime," He nodded. "Let me know when your ankle feels better, yeah?"
"Of course."
Before I could say anything else, my dad leaned over from the driver's seat.
"Can we drop you anywhere, Henry?"
"Oh, no, that's okay, thanks," Henry waved him off. "I should probably finish my run."
"Is that the safest plan?" I questioned, a smirk on my face. "Maybe you should get yourself a bell first so you don't mow down any more unsuspecting women..."
Henry fought back a smile as he feigned indignation.
"You never told me that your daughter was a comedian, Mr. Harris." He said to my dad as I giggled away at my own joke. 
"Yes, well, we try not to encourage her too much," My dad rolled his eyes. "Don't need her getting too big headed now, do we?"
I protested his comment as Henry laughed before we said a quick goodbye and he jogged off down the hill.
We drove in silence for a few moments before my dad looked over at me.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so," I assured him. "I fell pretty hard and obviously banged up my ankle, but it's definitely not broken so it'll heal."
"I'm glad to hear that," He nodded. Another silence settled between us before he spoke again. "Your mom's worried about you. She said you seemed down this morning and that you’re getting antsy."
I looked down at my hands, not wanting to delve into this conversation.
"Everyone's getting antsy," I shrugged, deciding I needed to quickly change the subject. "Anyway, why didn't you tell me that you knew Henry Cavill?"
"I don't really know him, but his parents live just down the street from us so I've met him once or twice," He explained. "I didn't know you were such a fan."
"Well, I'm not really," I admitted. "I'm not not a fan, but I don't know much of his work. He is rather...You know, he's got a nice..."
I trailed off realizing who I was talking to, but my dad simply smirked.
"A nice face?" He suggested. "Nice abs? Nice arms? Which I'm sure you got a great feel of since you definitely weren't six feet apart, young lady."
My cheeks were red as I swatted his arm.
"I know we weren't," I muttered, feeling like a teenager who'd just been caught sneaking out with a boy. "But I was injured and I couldn't walk."
"Well, I hope you're good at hopping because I won't be able to carry you into the house like that with my old back," He informed me. "I'm no Superman."
I rolled my eyes and mumbled a quick 'shut up' as I looked out the window, but there was a smile on my face that I couldn't shake and for the first time since this whole pandemic fiasco began, I felt a little flicker of hope.
92 notes · View notes
halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
TLTNL- EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER TWENTY-FOUR
Harry felt as if it had been ages that he'd taken the book so lightheartedly. His godfather still weighed heavily on his mind, he could not erase the fear that their last argument wasn't going to be the end of things and Harry still worried deeply for the end results of that, but finally something was going right in school! He couldn't wait to learn what all became of that!
Harry was happier the rest of that weekend than he had been all term. He still had some pretty late hours with all his homework, but the sunshine prevailed and they spent it out under the shade of some trees instead which made the work more bearable. Hermione, who of course was up to date on her work,
Sirius chuckled as he told Harry, "you manage to say that with such perfect exasperation."
"It never fails to boggle the mind," Harry grinned.
"Well compared to her third year, I imagine even seventh won't feel as bad as taking all the classes at once," Lily shrugged.
brought knitting needles and more wool to knit themselves while she happily edited their work.
The idea of now actively doing something to resist Umbridge and the Ministry was finally giving Harry the satisfaction he'd been needing.
"Is that all you needed?" James grinned in relief his son was finally starting to sound and clearly feel more normal again. "Didn't the Order help with that?"
"I wasn't actually doing anything of use on that front," Harry shrugged, "knowing someone's out there helping and my actually helping are two very different things for me."
No one argued that point, they all felt the same.
  He kept reliving the moment where he realized all those people had been there because they believed him, respected him, their looks when Cho had praised his accomplishments about the Tournament.
"Which bit was your favorite part again?" Sirius smirked, to which Harry ignored him.
That so many people didn't find him a weirdo still left him smiling Monday morning, despite the prospect of all his least favorite classes.
"I still want to see someone hung for that, it truly sounds like yet more torture for you this year," Remus said in disgust.
He and Ron came down the stairs, but were distracted from leaving the common room by a very large sign covering up the normal flyers on the board, including the school rules Filch kept up to date, Quidditch practices, who would trade what Chocolate Cards, lost and found, dates of Hogsmeade visits, and the Weasley's advertisement.
"They're still hanging those up! I thought Hermione would have a cow on them if she saw?" Lily yelped in concern for the twins health.
"This one wasn't nearly so big or as flamboyant," Harry shrugged, "she may not have even noticed it a second time." It was truly depressing that the second Harry had locked in on this new thing, his face had gone right back to that unhappy, sour look he'd carried through most of this book.
Instead in great big unable to miss letters was the notice of Educational Decree Number twenty-four, signed by the High Inquisitor. All organizations, societies, teams, groups, or clubs were hereby banned unless approved by the High Inquisitor. This consisted of a group of more than three people. Any students found in any of the above without permission by the High Inquisitor would be expelled.
Harry looked up, surprised no one had interrupted him during that to state their disgust, and found four stunned stupid faces. James even had his mouth hanging open in shock.
"That is the most ridiculous thing, I have ever heard, in my life," Remus struggled to even get this out.
"Are you kidding me!" Lily screeched in outrage. "You must be absolutely joking. Of all the stupid, I mean she didn't really, no one could have let her-"
"But Quidditch!" James and Sirius broke in with unison disgust.
"Priorities men," Remus scowled at them, "how about, even we couldn't have hung out at school! Group's of three or more, bloody hell, just walking down the corridor is banned in that stupidity!"
"Would you lot focus," Lily snapped. "I can't imagine how this was passed, she is literally just putting up laws now that fit her own need, how on Earth is this being passed! I am absolutely disgusted anyone could be part of this."
"I think you're all missing the big picture," Harry kept scowling at nothing, "which is, how did she know?"
That did catch them off their own problem, as each ran through the list of all who were in the Hog's Head that day.
"Must have been one of the students, none of the other customers care enough to say anything about this." Remus reasoned out.
"Harry did keep noticing that one shifty person," Lily reminded.
"So there was a shifty person, they still wouldn't have a reason to go darting to Umbridge," Sirius brushed off.
"So the best idea is that arsehole Zacharia, everyone else there never showed any problem with this," James decided.
"That friend of Cho's," Lily said uneasily.
Harry's stomach twisted in pain even as his eyes lit on her for some understanding he got from that, but then Sirius dismissed at once, "loyalty to her friend would keep her mouth shut I'm sure, Zacharia didn't have that with Ernie or that other chick," and Harry was no longer sure what he'd been thinking of.
"Great, now that that's decided, I can't wait to hear what the twins do about this," Remus sneered.
"But Quidditch!" James was not going to let that point go. "That means Harry's team has to be reinstated by that toad! I can't go a whole other year without hearing about him in the Championship!"
Lily smacked him upside the head while Harry kept going with much less enthusiasm now. He'd had all of one page to enjoy himself and that had already been taken away.
Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of a couple of second-years, who began talking to each other in concern about their Gobstones Club.
"Youthful innocence," Remus sighed.
Harry turned with forming fists to Ron as he hissed that she knew.
Ron at once said she can't have, but Harry insisted she still could have been there, or anyone who had been could have ratted to her. He'd thought they'd believed in him...
"Oh Harry they do," Lily promised at once. "I've realized time and again what a beacon of hope you are for your generation, how so many look to you-"
"Usually not in a good way," Harry interrupted with a scowl, clearly refusing any kind of comfort.
James wouldn't give in that easily as he tisked at Harry, "remember what Dumbledore said last year? If you're striving for universal popularity you're going to be waiting forever. You've hardly ever looked past the bad people are saying of you, try for some optimism a good twenty something people are on your side that you know of, not counting the ones I'm sure are still in that school."
Harry thought about this for a moment before he really did smile. Somehow, he just knew, before all this was up he'd realize his parents were right and that was enough for now even if he didn't feel it currently.
Ron at once said it could have been that Zacharias bloke, or that Michael Corner, he'd been shifty.
All of them at least got a small laugh out of Ron's one track mind, but at least he'd said the main suspect first, he wasn't entirely acting like an overprotective brother.
Harry looked around and didn't yet spot Hermione, so decided they should go up to her room to tell her about this. Ron at once took off for the stairs.
"I can't believe it took you this long to get in this one!" James snorted with glee.
"I found that out during my second year, and it was for a much better reason than visiting a friend," Sirius agreed with a wicked grin.
Harry gazed bemusedly at them, realized they weren't going to elaborate, and kept going curiously what the problem with this was.
He didn't make it past the sixth step when the stone beneath him vanished, turning into one long smooth slide, and Ron was left to tumble backwards and land at Harry's feet.
Harry offered him a hand up as he gazed at the new type of passage, mentioning he no longer thought they could go up to the girls dormitories.
"No, that mustn't be it!" Remus made his eyes go as wide as possible. "What on earth gave you that idea!"
Harry just rolled his eyes at the sarcasm while still grinning at the mental image Ron had provided.
Two fourth years came sliding down, giggling at the ride, while Ron turned an affronted look on Harry and demanded why not, Hermione had been in their room.
Hermione managed that moment to come sliding down, already explaining it was an old- fashioned kind of rule,
"That timing," Lily rolled her eyes.
"I'd have been much more impressed if she'd been coming down headfirst," Remus snickered at the thought.
that Hogwarts: A History said the founders thought boys less trustworthy.
"That is entirely insulting," James pouted.
"What about in the Slytherin common room?" Harry asked in surprise. "They don't even have stairs, how do they stop there?"
"Temporary dirt funnel over you," Sirius grinned. "Any time you try to step pass the barrier, a wall of dirt circles you, though girls around you still come and go, it leaves you pinned like that till you turn around and then it opens again for you to leave."
"Same two things happen for the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws," Remus agreed.
"Why am I the only one insulted by this?" James protested of them.
"Because it's a fairly pointless rule considering most couples don't enjoy spending time in their rooms considering all the, err, shared space, so most find other places to...interact." Remus rolled his eyes at him. "You just get mad because when you tried to fly your broom up there an intruder alert went off and McGonagall showed up and nearly cursed you before realizing what you'd done."
"She never did let that one go, gave him a month of detentions and threatened he'd be in her office for life if he ever set off another alarm like that again," Sirius chuckled.
Harry wouldn't let himself be distracted by this as he dragged Hermione over to the notice and waited impatiently for her to reach it. She'd hardly looked back at them when Ron snapped about someone blabbing, but she began protesting at once no one could have done.
Ron told her she was being naïve,
"Ron just said the same thing before Hermione showed up," Lily rolled her eyes.
"But now of course he realizes he's wrong and he's correcting her as well," Sirius shrugged.
but Hermione insisted that if anyone had done so, they'd now be jinxed because of the spell she put on the parchment everyone had signed.
Harry had hardly paused for breath upon realizing this before he startled at the burst of laughter from all sides. He looked around with his own amused smile to see that even his mum was giggling like mad that Hermione had done something so, underhanded, to ensure silence for this group.
"Hermione is a girl of many talents," James calmed down first as he fixed his glasses.
"She really is something when it comes to protecting her own," Lily agreed fondly.
Ron now looked on, impressed as he asked what this jinx was, and Hermione said it would make the person who blabbed regret it, they would have more blemishes on their face than actual face.
The boys lost it all over again, cackling like idiots, and Harry joined in this time to help relieve some of the tension living in him of how sure he was this was going to be happening at some point.
She beckoned them to head down to breakfast, wondering if this had been put up in the other houses yet.
"I can't imagine why they wouldn't be," Remus shook his head at the idea, his grin still stuck in place for Hermione's curse.
The three of them found the twins, Ginny, Dean, and Neville chatting uneasily as they approached, and they all looked to Harry asking what they were going to do about this.
Harry said do it anyways of course.
"I never thought anything otherwise," Sirius smirked.
George beamed and said he wasn't surprised, though Fred looked suspiciously at the two prefects as he asked if everyone would be in?
"They knew what they were getting into before this stupid, I don't even want to call it a law it's so sad it's a thing," Lily scowled.
Hermione said of course at once, while Ron pointed over his shoulder and said the two prefects from Hufflepuff plus some Ravenclaws were headed over here now, and he still couldn't spot anyone spotty.
Hermione turned around in surprise as she hissed that wasn't the point, they couldn't come over here now, it would be too suspicious.
"No it won't," James said in confusion. "People chat with other people from different houses all the time."
"Still not best to have it clear and obvious who's coming up to talk to me right now," Harry shrugged.
Remus was biting his tongue to hold in the sarcastic comment that even the Great Hall was technically now falling under the more than three people in one group rule.
Hermione began waving frantically at them all to go sit down, while Ginny huffed she'd tell her boyfriend while calling him a fool.
"I already sense true love," Lily giggled as she nestled in a bit to James' pleased smile, both parents missing the stricken look Harry seemed to get for no reason because of that.
She hurried off to the Ravenclaw table, while Harry watched Cho chatting uneasily with the same friend. He wondered if that notice would scare her off from future meetings.
"You could still offer her private lessons, those still even fall under-"
Remus smacked Sirius for Harry this time just so Harry could keep going.
They were leaving the Great Hall when Angelina caught up to them, and informed them this new decree also meant the Quidditch team.
"I can't believe you were more concerned over this group you just made up than your Quidditch team!" James was still stuck on that one.
Harry and Ron were just as shocked to realize this as Angelina turned pleading eyes on him not to have any more outbursts with Umbridge or she'd never let them reform their team.
"I'm getting a really bad feeling about this," Sirius said uneasily, already imagining that toad excluding the Gryffindor's from playing ever again just because Harry was on the team! Surely Dumbledore wouldn't really let that happen though!
"She can't stop Quidditch," James said flatly. He didn't look quite as dangerous as when he'd heard about that quill being used on his son, but this was a good second. "There'd be a true revolt, even the other houses would go barmy if she stopped one team because it would ruin the whole year's structure."
"Breathe you two," Remus tried for comfort even as he shifted uneasily in place at the idea of this. "Prongs said it himself, there's no way this is going to last, I'm sure."
"Least someone is," Harry sighed, he couldn't get rid of this pit of nausea telling him he should have enjoyed Quidditch while he still had it.
Harry quickly agreed to this, mostly because Angelina looked ready to burst into tears.
"Is that all it took, for her to start crying to get you to stop," Lily at least grinned for that.
They walked off then towards History of Magic, Ron saying he was positive Umbridge would be here for this lesson.
"Could she even get rid of him?" Remus asked, clearly looking to think on something else before his friends blew a gasket over their topic. "I feel like even if she did fire him he wouldn't even take notice and he'd just keep showing up."
"I actually agree," Lily nodded. "You'd have to designate a new classroom and put a teacher in there, and then Binns would just show up and keep talking to an empty room."
"The worst part is, Umbridge would probably consider him a good teacher if she doesn't fall asleep in the back like everyone else," Remus sighed.
None of the boys laughed like the two had been hoping.
She however was not, and class began as normal, Harry doodling rather than actually taking notes, and it took several hard prods from Hermione before he looked up. She however was not gesturing for him to pay attention in class, but to the window, where Hedwig was.
"What on Earth?" James began in confusion, that had finally caught everyone's attention onto one subject, and it wasn't History of Magic.
"What's Hedwig up to?" Sirius tried to lean over in concern to look at the book. "Either she could have dropped off her reply with breakfast or she should have waited till you were alone."
Harry had no answer, all he knew was the powerful burning protection rising in him as he gazed at the memory of his owl and hurried quickly on.
Harry took a quick look to the teacher, who was droning on as ever, but still kept low as he went to the window and let her in. Instead of holding out her leg as usual, she hopped inside, hooting dully. Harry quickly moved her to his shoulder and went back to his seat, placing her on his lap instead before he saw the true problem, her feathers were ruffled oddly, and a wing was bent out unnaturally.
"Someone attacked Hedwig!" Harry snarled in outrage.
"Oh the poor dear," Lily crooned in concern, "I can't even imagine what."
"I really can't either," Remus shifted uneasily, remembering clearly who that letter was from...nothing could have happened to Sirius right?!
Harry hissed in surprise she was hurt, while Ron leaned over and Hermione put down her quill to look.
"There's a miracle in itself," Sirius said as he jittered uneasily.
Hedwig was shaking slightly on Harry's knees, and when he tried to touch her wing, she puffed up and tried snapping at him for it.
"Bird bones aren't exactly easy to break, despite being hollow," Remus began prattling off as he pictured it in his mind's eye. "It must have taken some very great effort to bend it out of shape, I can imagine Hedwig fought back-"
"Remus," Harry all but begged, shutting him up instantly as Harry kept hastily going.
Harry waited no longer to take to his feet and call to the professor he was not feeling well.
"Honestly Harry, you could have just walked out and he wouldn't have noticed," Lily told him with a straight face, she knew she would have if her pet had shown up injured.
Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, looking amazed as always to find people present.
No one could even crack a smile for this display.
Harry was already walking towards the door, his owl stashed behind him as he declared he was going to the hospital wing.
Binns hardly acknowledged his own dismissal of Perkins as he returned to his notes.
"First time in my life someone called me wrong, and I can't even enjoy the moment," Harry muttered sourly, his eyes flickering to his father's owl and away with longing, he wanted to know right now his owl was okay, he couldn't get rid of this terrible premonition something could be very wrong with her.
When he left the room however, he dithered on where to actually go. His first thought would be Hagrid, but failing that, he decided he had no one to ask but Grubbly-Plank.
"That's so sad," Lily groaned as she twisted up some of her hair with worry, "but I'm positive Grubbly-Plank will help her, she's been nothing but decent so far."
Looking through the nearest window, he did not spot her with a class on the grounds, so decided the best place to start looking was the staff room.
That made Sirius question for the first time where the woman was even staying. It's not as if Hogwarts had an abundance of guest rooms set up, though he supposed one would obviously be provided for her, and entirely not the point right now.
When Harry bolted there, he was met with two talking stone gargoyles who tried to discourage him from knocking, though Harry ignored them as he said it was urgent. It was McGonagall who answered the door, taking one flashing look at him and demanding if he'd been given another detention.
"Must love her faith in you," James continued shifting in unease as they all watched Harry read with panic over his poor pet. They were sure she was fine, it more than likely wasn't a critical injury, but it put them all on the edge something like this had happened so randomly.
The gargoyle interrupted to remind it was urgent as snidely as it could.
"That's not helping," Sirius said through gritted teeth.
Harry quickly showed his owl and told who he was looking for, and was relieved to see the woman was in fact inside. She began inspecting Hedwig at once, talking to herself about how a Thestral was capable of doing this, but Hagrid had the ones on grounds well trained not to attack owls so this wasn't likely.
Remus nodded absently, he'd worked all that out silently himself, and had been hoping for some other answer while Harry absently noted his question of those winged horses had just been answered and he hadn't even realized it.
Harry neither knew nor cared what Thestrals were;
"Oh the irony," Sirius couldn't help but mutter.
as Grubbly-Plank asked how far she'd traveled?
Harry just said to London, and by the look on McGonagall's face, it was clear she understood who the recipient was.
"She's never been slow on the uptake," James began fidgeting all the more, now fingers crossed she'd pull Harry aside so the two could go check on Sirius. What on earth had happened here?
Grubbly-Plank noticed nothing as she asked Harry for him to leave Hedwig with her for a few days, she could take care of this.
Harry gave an uneasy thanks, but before Harry left McGonagall gave Harry the letter Hedwig had been carrying this whole time. Harry took it with one last pitiful look at his owl, who was watching reproachfully as he left as if abandoning her.
Harry shifted guiltily, wishing he could have done more for his owl or at least stayed with her. Remus and James tried to draw comfort from the fact that Harry was more worried for Hedwig than Sirius, surely if he thought something had gone wrong with his godfather he'd be even more upset.
McGonagall escorted him to the door where the bell had been rung and students were starting to swarm from both sides. McGonagall just had time to warn the message that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts were being watched, before he was swept away.
"The worst part is we already guessed as much," Lily said with grim disgust.
Harry made his way to the courtyard to find his friends talking in low mutters. They both at once asked how Hedwig was, and Harry explained where he'd gone and what McGonagall had passed along.
Neither looked surprised, as Hermione began to say this was the first time Hedwig had ever been intercepted, or had she ever been hurt in flight before?
"Not even to wherever the bloody hell Sirius was hiding before, but now at the safest place on earth," Harry snarled in disgust, still shifting restlessly and knowing he was going to feel off until he knew his owl was back to one hundred percent.
Ron asked about the letter then, and Harry opened it to find Sirius' writing and the simple sentence; same time, same place.
Ron hissed in surprise if that meant he was planning another visit tonight?
"Can't imagine what else it would mean," James said dryly to cover up his heart thudding harder every second. If Sirius didn't make an appearance tonight, than he'd know something was wrong. Surely though it was just Hedwig's response being intercepted, and not the fact that someone had attacked her and Sirius while he'd been putting the letter on the owl. Harry would have been told if something like that had happened, right?
Hermione said that part was obvious, and she just hoped no one else had read this.
Harry said it had still been sealed when he'd got it, plus no one could even understand what this meant.
"That bit is impossible at least," Sirius said with conviction, "no one else was around for last time, I'm sure it'll be fine."
Hermione wasn't as convinced, saying it was possible to reseal things with magic, and if anyone had been watching the Floo Network recently...
They all paled as they realized that, but Lily jostled herself back into thinking right. "That falls under Dumbledore's job to keep that monitored for the school on behalf of the Ministry..." but she trailed off right there, as even before this latest stupid decree it had been made clear Dumbledore's powers were quickly being stripped away. What if someone in the Ministry had noted when this had happened? Could it be possible they'd somehow traced it back to Grimmauld place? The amount of magical protection around that house should have made this impossible...but something had happened to Hedwig, and none of them could stop their stream of worries until they got an answer.
The problem was they couldn't warn him of anything without that being intercepted too.
"There must be some other forms of communication," Harry said through gritted teeth, something even more fearful rearing up inside of him at just the hint of the idea he couldn't get into contact with Sirius because of this, and something was going to go terribly wrong because of it.
Sirius and James exchanged a significant look before James said, "well yes there is, but usually those are private and preset up things that you and Sirius just haven't established yet."
Harry looked on at him in confusion, waiting for that to be explained more, and Sirius did just that. "A few items can be enchanted so that you can have conversations one on one, but like Prongs just said, you have to individually set them up and you and I haven't yet."
Harry still felt like they weren't saying something, but pressed on anyways as he just wanted this nasty feeling to go away. He tried to even remember that happy feeling he'd felt only at the beginning of this chapter, and already that felt like a foreign concept.
They trudged off to potions in silence, which didn't last long as the moment the room was in sight they also heard Malfoy speaking clearly for all to hear.
"I was under the impression that was always how he talked," Remus sneered, more than tired of hearing of this little prat near constantly.
Boasting about how Umbridge had signed off right away for the Slytherin team to continue, of course it was all thanks to his father's influence in the Ministry.
"Nothing should ever be a question of influence inside that rat hole!" Lily snapped in disgust.
The Gryffindor's certainly had no chance this way, as the Ministry had been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years.
"I wish they would," Sirius said nastily, "then half the Ministry would quit in protest and the other half would quit because the place couldn't even run anymore, then Fudge would be forced out of office and we could put someone with a brain in place."
"That was extremely elaborate," Harry told him conversationally.
"That's Sirius," James agreed.
Potter was no use of course, it was just a matter of time before St. Mungo's caught him and put him in the ward for the ones with brain damage.
"Considering that room isn't housing the whole of your family, I don't consider them that reliable," James sneered.
Malfoy began making grotesque faces at Harry, who had no time to react as someone forced past his shoulder, Neville.
"Uh oh," Lily sat straight up in concern.
"I hadn't realized Neville was around," James winced in concern.
"This could be..." Sirius trailed off as he couldn't decide how this was going to be. Neville would get a few good licks in, more from shock on Malfoy's part than anything, but now everyone in the area would question why this had affected Neville so bad, clearly something the boy was against as he'd never brought it up himself.
Harry leapt forward to try and stop him, to the stunned faces of everyone around them.
All five of them remained grim faced, the boys for once not even cheering this fight on. Neville deserved whatever he was going to do to Malfoy for that crack, but glory the motivation for it was the most terrible thing any of them could put into words.
Ron quickly joined in restraining their dorm mate, while Neville inarticulately shouted at Malfoy about not funny, Mungo's-
Snape arrived then, at once taking ten points away from the three struggling boys.
Harry only released Neville once Malfoy was inside, apologizing by saying Crabbe and Goyle would have torn him in half.
"Not if you'd backed him up rather than stopping him," Remus said under his breath.
"As you always say Moony, time and place," Sirius gave him the absent reminder, wishing he could go start his own fight with the twisted beings passing as people walking around with the intent to do this to their friends.
Neville said nothing as he stalked inside and set well away from them as class got started.
They were all still shifting uneasily in here for that distressing moment, each wishing they could do something, say anything to make that even remotely better, but words weren't enough.
Snape began class by saying they had a guest today.
Harry looked back around in surprise and was amazed he'd missed the pink amongst the black background, Umbridge was present, clipboard in hand.
James's mouth opened with a little pop, before he exaggeratedly clutched at his throat and began pantomiming distress.
"Honestly, I'm with Prongs," Sirius nodded along while Lily watched him with mild concern for the show. "I've never been more torn who I want to see come on top on this one."
Harry exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione, all of them feeling the same. It was hard to decide who to root for in this moment.
"Why can't I have normal friends who just say something like that, instead of you two idiots?" Remus gave a small smile as Sirius had switched to raising both hands and clearly weighing both sides, and James had only slightly calmed down by now making exaggerated faces every few seconds.
"Oh hush Remus, you know full well you want to go get the camera right now," Lily said with mild indulgence at the display.
"Well I can't tell them that, then they'd think I approve or something," he smirked.
Snape gave this no more attention as the told them all to begin today's work, but Harry was so interested in watching Umbridge shadow Snape Hermione stopped him three consecutive times from adding the wrong ingredient to his potion.
"I knew that conviction of not letting Snape get the better of you wouldn't last long," Sirius sighed.
"You're going to blow that potion up in your face if you don't pay more attention," Lily couldn't help but scold him.
Harry hardly gave her notice as Umbridge began her usual line of questioning, saying that while the class was clearly well handled, perhaps today's potion was too advanced and should be taken off the syllabus.
"I'm confident they'd want everything removed from the syllabus that doesn't involve brain washing," Remus snarked.
Snape gave no response to this as she switched to asking how long he'd been here, to which he curtly replied fourteen years.
"Oh how I long for the days of Slughorn, who'd have thought," Sirius grumbled in disgust.
"I will pay that man whatever it takes to never go into retirement and keep this from happening," James vowed.
Harry was frowning lightly to himself, wondering at that time frame, though surely it couldn't be anything too significant...
Harry was watching his expression, and so looked down in surprise to find his potion had gone from the turquoise it was supposed to be, to orange.
Lily shook her head, now completely giving up on the idea Harry's potion was going anywhere this lesson.
Umbridge and Snape kept his attention though as she asked that Snape had first asked for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post? When he gave a one worded answer, she affirmed he was unsuccessful?
"You know at some point, I almost wish he would be," Sirius groaned. "Then he'd be gone after that year."
Harry gave an odd little laugh of agreement he was sure shouldn't feel as significant as it did.
Snape's lip curled as he stated obviously.
Remus snorted in surprise, and then at once was affronted he'd done any such thing, and covered his face with shame.
"There, there, Moony, we all lapse in sanity sometimes," Sirius grinned as he patted his shoulder with comfort.
"Now what was this about me being dramatic again?" James smirked. "I would never deny when anyone made a good comeback."
"Shut up Prongs," Remus huffed as he scowled at him instead.
Umbridge just made a little note before asking he regularly applied for the job?
Snape gave another yes, clearly growing angrier by the moment.
"It is actually hurting my soul to be enjoying this so much," Sirius was watching the book with an intense feeling even he couldn't quite read. It wasn't quite pleasure, but far more understanding than he'd ever given Snape in his life.
She then asked why Dumbledore denied him the job?
"He's afraid to let him into a classroom with daylight, he might melt," James smirked.
"Wrong myth dear," Lily muttered without explanation to his confused look. She was sitting far back in her seat with her arms crossed. She still couldn't quite bring herself to the level of mocking him like the boys were doing, but for once in their life, they all seemed to be of the same mind when it came to Snape right now.
When Snape did not give a satisfying answer, she decided she'd have to ask the headmaster herself then. She walked off to begin questioning the students, and Snape stalked straight over to Harry, noted the way his potion was frothing, and then vanished it again with no grade for this class while also assigning him the homework of the correct way to brew this potion.
"Merlin's pants, you congratulate the man for one second on doing something right and he turns around and does even more bull loaded nonsense!" Sirius groaned in disgust.
"Snape reached his limit of my liking for him and then shattered it all in the same stretch, I'd be impressed if I wasn't pissed," James huffed in agreement.
Harry glared hatefully at him as he walked away. Snape had already assigned one lesson today, now Harry had two. There goes another sleepless night.
"I found it cathartic to try breaking something, like his nose," Remus said so only Sirius could hear, causing him to at least giggle a bit, but the two kept that one to themselves.
Harry trudged off to lunch glumly, considering skipping Divination so he could spend the time starting that new assignment from Snape.
Hermione disagreed at once for the idea,
"I really can't see how it makes too much of a difference honestly," Lily said grudgingly. "That's a waste of a class, you're prioritizing."
"There are many reasons I fell in love with you dear," James grinned at her, "this is one of them."
Lily just grinned as she waved on her surprised son.
Ron told her she was one to talk, she'd walked out on the class.
Hermione defended she found the subject a waste, but Harry had already missed History of Magic this morning, he couldn't afford to keep skipping all his classes.
"He was doodling during that class, I hardly think he missed out on something riveting," Sirius snorted.
"Hermione is a terrible conscience if she can't even tell you how to sort your day out," Remus sighed.
Harry grudgingly agreed to this logic as he went off, but found he wasn't the only one having a bad day. Trelawney was stamping around the class placing the books down as usual, but was muttering tersely under her breath and did not stop as more students entered. She dropped the book loudly on Harry and Ron's little table, nearly took Seamus' nose off as she thrusted the book at them, and actually pushed Neville off his pouffe as she put the book in his arms.
"I know Monday's are terrible, but this is getting ridiculous for all parties," James said in confusion.
When all eyes watched her with worry, she snapped at them briskly to get a move on, or was she such a substandard teacher they didn't even know how to open a book?
"Ouch," Remus winced, all of them at once understanding what must have happened.
"Is it of some comfort she wasn't outright fired?" Lily sighed, none of them particularly liked her, but that didn't mean they wanted her under Umbridge's thumb either, which seemed to be what had happened.
"Not much," James groaned.
Harry leaned in and whispered to Ron it looked like Trelawney had gotten her inspection results back.
Parvati raised a tentative hand and asked in genuine concern if something was wrong?
Trelawney said in a throbbing voice of course there was nothing wrong! She'd been insulted, accused, but there was nothing wrong!
"As if she doesn't contradict herself enough with her predictions, now she's doing it in real time," Sirius tried for his old mocking tone, but even he didn't hate Trelawney enough to poke fun at this.
The class watched as a few tears spilled from her eyes while Lavender asked who'd insulted her?
"If she really can't piece that together logically than she could at least consult a crystal ball," Lily muttered without any real heat.
Trelawney got some of her old dramatics back as she stated the establishment! Her kind had always been persecuted.
She spent the rest of the class striding about wiping away tears, muttering threats under her breath about how dare they put her on probation and she may well quit from the indignity of it.
"Of all the teachers to go on probation, she wasn't exactly number one on my list," Remus sighed.
"Even she didn't deserve this," Harry grudgingly agreed past all his annoyance at her.
Harry arrived at his final class to find Hermione waiting for them, as Harry told her and Umbridge both had something in common, they both found Trelawney a fraud, and he explained about her probation.
"That was insulting Harry, a fact does not give two people anything in common," Lily said flatly.
Umbridge entered with the usual standard and for all wands to be put away. There was no flurry of movement this time, no one had bothered to take their wand out.
"I'd be worried for their mental health if they had by this point," Sirius snapped, then winced at the careless comment as he imagined Neville's reaction again.
She instructed them which chapter they were to be reading today and finished as always there was no need to talk, coupled with the trio under their breaths.
"No need to think, more like," Remus sneered in disgust.
Harry came back to the common room that night to find Angelina in a state, she hadn't been given her permission for their team.
Harry at once promised he hadn't done anything today-
"You already have though Harry," James sighed. "That first day you asked to go to tryouts told her all she needed to know about the best way to get to you."
Harry looked horror struck he could be the reason his team didn't get set back up, so Lily quickly soothed, "oh I'm sure you're all exaggerating this, Quidditch is a set Hogwarts tradition, even Umbridge can't be stupid enough to think she can go on without letting the team play forever, someone will step in." Even she didn't look very convinced by the end, that woman had already gotten away with far too much.
Angelina assured she knew it wasn't Harry's fault this time, the woman had said she just needed time to consider.
Ron told in a temper she hadn't had to think about anything in regards to the Slytherins, but Angelina just shook her head pitifully as she walked away.
Hermione tried to point out the bright side, at least now he had more time to do Snape's essay.
"That's not the bright side I was looking for," Lily groaned, even she wouldn't put that in the good column.
Harry demanded of her how no Quidditch but extra potions was a good thing?
Still, he had no choice but to begin on his work, proven extra difficult tonight by the amount of noise in the room. Fred and George had apparently perfected their Puking Pastel, and were demonstrating it to a cheering crowd. The twins took turns eating the orange bit, and vomiting spectacularly until they got down the purple pill. Lee was assisting by making the bucket they were vomiting into randomly disappear.
At least the Marauder's looked entertained at this display, while Lily found the whole thing rather sad this was getting such a show. Could watching someone vomit really be so entertaining?
Nothing was helped by Hermione tisking in disgust, and as Harry scratched out the wrong information for the fourth time in frustration, he demanded she go yell at them and get it over with if that's what she wanted.
Hermione was just as frustrated she technically couldn't, as none of this was against the rules.
Ron was watching the show with some surprise, asking how they hadn't got more than three OWLs each? They clearly knew their stuff.
Hermione scoffed they only knew flashy things that were of no real use.
"No real use!" Sirius looked stricken.
"This is the most valuable thing I've ever seen invented, far more useful than a dozen spells I could name that have only one purpose! This is a multipurpose gift!" James agreed.
"Would you lot calm down," Lily rolled her eyes at them. "So they make you vomit, Sirius' socks can do that."
"Not stop on command though," Remus reminded, "think about it Lily, this could even have some real world applications for spies, slipping this into someone's food and they couldn't stop unless you promised them the antidote."
Lily pursed her lips even as her mind did begin spinning past the trouble it caused. Satisfied that everyone at least appreciated these things on some level, Harry did keep going with a small smile in place now.
Ron pointed out one use the twins were already prospering in, they'd made more than twenty-six Galleons tonight alone.
"And there's that," Remus agreed absently.
Finally though the crowd stopped shouting, orders were taken, and the room began to quiet down. Harry still wasn't even halfway through his work though when Ron shouted in surprise at Sirius.
James and Remus finally felt themselves relax since the news of Hedwig's arrival. They wouldn't even admit to themselves how worried they'd been for him about the attack on Harry's owl during this delivery, but clearly he was just fine and it had been some other thing to happen to Hedwig completely unrelated to Harry's godfather.
Harry happily slid from his chair to greet him, Ron and Hermione joining him on the hearth along with Crookshanks, who tried nestling up to the fire.
Lily giggled happily at the idea, eyeing her cat whose tail was just being spotted hanging from the staircase banister.
Sirius grinned as he saw them, asking how things were?
James felt the same grin appear on his face and he wasn't even beside his mate, it was just natural even when he wasn't in on the joke, though he did wonder what Sirius knew and was eager to hear.
Harry grumbled not that good, how the Ministry was forcing them to have Quidditch teams approved-
and secret Defence groups? Sirius inserted.
Harry stared in stunned disbelief at the words before turning wide eyed to his godfather, who at once put his own baffled hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me, even I'm not that good."
"And it takes a lot for him to admit to that," Remus said off hand even as they kept watching the book for this explanation. Maybe Padfoot had showed up after all but not even been seen by Harry just to prove a point, that seemed the kind of thing their friend would likely do.
There was a pause before Harry demanded how he knew about that?
Sirius kept grinning as he said the Hog's Head was a terrible choice.
Hermione defended it was better than the Three Broomsticks, always packed with people-
which would have made them harder to overhear, Sirius pointed out.
"At least some things about you never change," Remus grinned.
Telling Hermione she had a lot to learn.
"And I'm sure he'd be happy to teach you," Lily shook her head for him.
Harry wouldn't be distracted and demanded how he knew, and Sirius explained Mundungus had told them, he'd been the witch under the veil.
Harry's mouth flopped open, outraged that he was still being followed, before he glanced up and saw all of them not trying very hard to stifle giggling at the thought of Mundungus dressing up like this. James pushed the idea further by getting out around a shaking voice, "wonder if that was Sirius' idea for the disguise, and Dung was too afraid to say anything otherwise?"
Harry did crack a grin for that at least, though it didn't at all make him feel better as he still hadn't been told about this, this time not even by Sirius.
Harry was outraged he was still being followed.
That did make the others realize as well Sirius had been fully aware of this and had not passed this information on, but James defended his mate on this one. "Firstly Harry, when exactly was he supposed to tell you this? Maybe Sirius didn't even know you still were until Mundungus showed back up to say what you'd done." His face soured for his own explanation though, as Sirius should get first say in what happened around Harry.
"Besides that, maybe Sirius just assumed you still knew. Followed outside of school, why not while in it too," Remus rolled his eyes at the absurdity of this even while he explained it.
Harry just sighed but decided against butting heads with Sirius over this when it more than likely still wasn't his decision.
Sirius just chuckled it was a good idea if the first thing he was going to do was go out and create illegal defence groups. He in no way looked angry or worried, on the contrary, Harry found pride as he kept gazing at them.
"I swear you are the worst influence on his life," Lily didn't even bother trying for a stern tone as she grinned at him. "Can't you at least pretend to scold him before congratulating this idea."
"I'm not even going to bother to apologize," Sirius kept snickering.
Ron asked why Dung had been hiding, but Sirius explained he'd been banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago.
Harry had felt some growing unease since he'd read Sirius' letter, so he tried to ignore why for a moment and asked, "what's the story there?"
"Sadly we've only ever heard some garbage from the man himself," Remus sighed.
"We tried to get him to meet us there for an Order meeting one day and he wouldn't go," James pouted, "only said he hadn't been there in ages. When we asked the barman, he told us when he'd been banned but wouldn't say more."
"Maybe he showed up without covering his face and ruined the motif," Lily rolled her eyes at all of their disappointment at not learning something.
"Considering how off that barman is, my best guess is it was something personal though," Sirius grumbled, wishing he did know what had happened.
Then he switched by turning to Ron,
"I still think this Dung in a dress thing warrants far more commentary," James chuckled.
"Keep it to your own head then," Lily rolled her eyes at him.
and said he'd promised to pass along a message.
Ron asked what that could be with clear apprehension.
"I am to," James' face at once tightened in concern of what that woman had to say about this.
Molly had said under no circumstances was he to be involved in any illegal Defence groups, she did not need to hear of him being expelled. There would be plenty of time later for him to learn to defend himself, and he was still too young to be worrying about this.
"Merlin's pants, she sounds like Umbridge!" Remus protested in disgust.
"That's a bit extreme," Lily frowned at him. "She doesn't want to hear of Ron in trouble."
"Why didn't I ask the other three Weasley's to be in attendance for them to hear about this as well?" Sirius rolled his eyes.
"How exactly would you have secretly phrased that?" Harry chuckled, "I'm sure Ron'll just pass it along to them, for all the good it'll do."
Sirius then looked at all three of them and finished he hoped Harry and Hermione followed this advice as well, but she accepted she had no control of this and just had their best interests at heart.
"Would love to have been there for that bit," James huffed, wondering what Sirius had said to remind Molly that's all she could say on the subject.
She'd have made an appearance tonight to say this herself if she hadn't been on guard duty.
Ron asked guarding what, and Sirius just said Order stuff.
That gave them all a moment of interest. This guard duty got more interesting the more they heard about it, though it was still infuriating just hints kept being dropped about it instead of actually being told what it was, especially by Sirius himself.
He then asked Ron to make sure his mother knew he'd at least gotten the message, he didn't think she trusted him to pass it along.
"Honesty I'm a bit impressed you did," Lily snorted.
Then Sirius went back to watching Harry with a grin, who asked with defeat if Sirius was going to ask him to stop?
"As if," they all scoffed at once that's the conclusion anyone could draw. Sirius saying something like that would be akin to him declaring undying love for Snape.
Sirius looked surprised this was his conclusion, he found this a great idea!
"There's my Padfoot," James chuckled.
Harry felt his heart lifting at once as Sirius said he and James would never have lain down and taken orders from Umbridge.
"Not a chance on the Map," James' grin turned wolfish, Sirius at once agreeing while Remus looked a touch offended. He could understand why Sirius wouldn't have said the whole of the Marauders, that would hurt his heart too much to possibly ever say again, but he'd have liked to at least been acknowledged as well during that. Clearly even his name being passed along by Sirius was too much to ask for anymore, and this somehow continued to get more depressing the less he was mentioned.
Harry was still surprised, as all last year Sirius had told him to do was not take risks- but Sirius brushed that off that last year they'd been concerned about Voldemort coming back. Now he was, and Harry needed to do everything in his power to keep himself up on defences, this was a great idea!
"I notice you've yet to ask us how we'll be learning?" Harry smiled at him. "I'd have liked to know what you thought of me teaching the lot of them."
"I'm sure pride, amusement, and a list of other good things," Sirius smiled fondly at Harry who couldn't help but beam.
Hermione asked and if they were expelled?
"I'd thought she'd sorted out her priorities by now?" Remus sighed.
"Then you'll have less homework and more time to practice," Sirius snorted at her oddly.
"This was her idea, why's she suddenly the one bringing this up," James rolled his eyes in agreement.
Harry protested this had been Hermione's idea, but Hermione said she still wanted to hear what Sirius had to say about that.
Sirius just said better kicked out of school knowing than inside without a clue.
"Why do you seem to be the only person thinking like that," Remus agreed with an unfocused gaze, Sirius turned to look curiously at him for the tone and not understanding the put out look still on his face.
Sirius happily switched to asking where this was going to be taking place?
Harry said he'd love some ideas, because they hadn't a clue.
Sirius at once suggested the Shrieking Shack.
"You'd think you'd realize same as Remus did, that's not big enough for almost thirty of them," Lily looked at him in confusion.
"I might not know how many of them there were," Sirius shrugged, "if it had been ten or less it may have worked better."
Hermione didn't think so, saying there was no way they could all sneak down there like they had, one Invisibility Cloak wasn't going to cover it.
"I don't see why that's her problem," James said in confusion. "Sure the cloak helps to sneak onto the grounds, but so long as they don't do it after school hours while taking turns sneaking down there, that wasn't really the issue."
Sirius didn't argue and instead offered a space behind a mirror on the fourth floor, that had always been roomy.
"That one could have been big enough," Sirius pouted, "if it hadn't caved in."
"I'm really coming up with nothing short of a classroom, which is ridiculous when you consider how big that school is but nothing outside of the classrooms hold that many people," James ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
Harry said Fred and George had told him ages ago it had caved in.
Sirius strained to think of something else, but then froze, looked sideways into the brick wall, and suddenly looked alarmed.
Harry's voice spiked in concern at once, James nearly startling out of his seat at such an abrupt change, and Remus leaning in protectively close to Sirius as he watched the book dangerously for what that face could mean. Sirius was at Grimmauld, and Harry was at school, surely nothing could be happening at either end or they would have realized it before now...
Harry anxiously asked what was wrong, but Sirius had already vanished.
James couldn't help jumping out of his seat then, his face stark white with concern as he fought back the impulse to snatch the book away from Harry's stuttering, fear filled voice.
Harry turned puzzled eyes on his friends, trying to ask them what that could have been about, but then Hermione let out a horrified shriek and leapt away, followed by the boys as they spotted a hand groping through the fire, with short stubby fingers covered in ugly old rings.
Lily began swearing violently as her mind raced to realize what, how this had happened!
The three raced off for the stairs, Harry looking back one last time to see Umbridge's hand still snatching at the flames where Sirius' hair had just been, determined to snatch him.
"No, no, no!" Harry shouted in outrage. "How could she! There's no way she could have known you were there, how could she even manage to do that to you! What did she almost do?"
"Pulled him right out of his fireplace into her's," Lily answered through numb lips.
Sirius didn't realize that pressure was Remus' hand curled so tight on his arm, prepared to wrench him out of the way of something any second, until he tried to move towards Harry and reassure him everything was alright, he'd escaped. He looked back at Remus steadily, who had to concentrate to unfurl his hand, before Sirius promised Harry and everyone, "relax, I bolted, she didn't grab me or you'd have realized it. You've never done this before, but you can still sense what's going on at your end as well as the place you're visiting. You can also still feel the Floo Network working around you. I'd have sensed someone else trying to jump in and I bolted, there's no way she could tell where, everything's fine."
No one looked remotely reassured. Too much adrenaline still pumping in them, too close a shave that Sirius was once again trying to blow off. He hardly even looked ruffled, if his eyes were a little wider than usual than that was more mild surprise than anything someone had gotten so close to him.
James was still shaking and too white from fear as he kept a steady eye on his brother, that had been the most fear inducing moment yet and it had happened while he'd been chatting with Harry! What was wrong with this world Sirius couldn't have one actual conversation with his son lately without something happening to someone!?
1 note · View note
thrillsxchills · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
{TW} Orion is obviously one of my more demented children and his whole life is a trigger warning, so please avoid reading this if your triggers contain the following -- depression, abandonment, hallucinations, drugs, violence, substances abuse, blood, abuse/mental & physical, bullying, self harm+un-alive thoughts, dissociating. (That’s a lot & i’m sorry but Orion has a HISTORY.)
Orion is my first and oldest baby I’ve had. He’s developed A LOT over the years, but for the new members I’m going to start all the way from the beginning so enjoy this looong ride. People like Z and Ali remember big bad old orion, that was something 😅
(tw; about death)Orion was an odd kid growing up, he had an usual obsession with death and creepy things. Cemetery's, bugs, and the supernatural. It was hard to make friends with other kids because of his unusual interests and the fact that his family was high class and his father wouldn’t let Orion associate himself with ‘poor people’.
(tw: family abuse) Orion hated and still hates his father with a passion. Nothing Orion ever did impressed his father. He rarely took interest in his one and only son. He only seemed to show up to physically abuse Orion over the smallest things. Orion’s only friend as a child was his mother, she was literally his saving grace.
{tw: abandonment/dissociating) Orion’s mother Cora is sweet and angelic like. However from his father's abuse she became numb and seemed to dissociate often. But Orion still took comfort in his mother's arms. Until one day his mother couldn’t take it anymore. While she wanted to take her son with her, she couldn’t. Orion’s dad’s family was the one with all the money. Cora had nothing to her name. If she took Orion he wouldn’t have a home or all the opportunities that money offered. So she left and it took everything she had left to do it.
(tw: abuse) Once Cora left the picture Orion’s fathers abuse only became worse. Taking out his wifes disappearance out on Orion. Screaming at the top of the lungs asking where Cora was. Orion didn’t know, he was just as clueless as his father but he didn’t believe him.
(tw: substance abuse) that’s when Orion started using drinking and smoking as a coping mechanism from a young age. He’d smoke any chance he got hiding the buds in his dresser drawer and his whiskey bottles in the boxes of his old shoes. It was his only escape from his shitty reality and his father.
(tw: reason for living) that all changed when Jakob Skellington came into the picture. They met at school and formed a quick lasting bond. Orion confided all his secrets and hobbies within Jakob and the boy never judged him. Orion finally found a best friend and a reason for staying alive at that point in time. Problem was their families had a long lasting feud over something stupid. So the two were banned from seeing each other. That didn’t stop them however. The two would sneak to each others house in the middle of the night or sneak off to hang out at Hallow Falls cemetery.
(tw: abandonment/bullying) however the friendship didn’t last long as intended. Because Jack was Orion’s only friend he became possessive over their relationship. Especially when Serena & Zeke entered the picture. They were getting to close to Jakob and Orion hated it. He began to loathe the two. So Orion did the only thing he knew how to do which is what he learned from his father. He began to bully Serena and Zeke to the point that Jack had to step in and defend Zeke and Serena. This felt like a betrayal to Orion. So Orion made an ultimatum. It was him or the two friends Jack barely knew. Jack chose them and Orion has held a resentment ever since. Quickly turning to the Teague's and using them to bully Zeke and Serena through them.
(tw: violence/blood/ suicidal thoughts) now entering his high school years Orion felt abandoned. He had no one but himself. Sure he had the Teagues but he felt that friendship was only extended because they did his bidding in exchange for things. Orion began skipping school more, starting fights for the hell of it. A couple of those fights he almost couldn’t walk away from him. Leaving his body beaten and bloodied in the back ally. Tiffani & Hallie nursed him back to health. But that didn’t stop him. He continued to get black out drunk and start fights. He wanted to feel something/and nothing all at the same time. He wanted to die.
(tw: substance abuse /hallucinations) Orion really thought he was going to die, he was drinking so much that he barely hanging onto his acceptance into Walt by a thread. His father kept bribing the school with money to keep him enrolled. He was known to students as the boogie man/feared by most people except a girl named Hallie. She tried to get him to be a better person. Which it didn’t happen all at once, it was slow. But once Orion realized all the people who had been hurt by his actions. his reality soon came crashing down. He began hearing things. like actual voices talking him. telling him that he was worthless, that he couldn’t be anything more than a monster. he could barely sleep without drinking himself to sleep. he even sought out a pastor to see if his soul was worth redeeming. Here is a self para about that time [SELF PARA HERE] Here is another self para about reuniting with his mother and standing up to his father. [READ HERE] read at viewers own discretion.!
(tw: trauma) It took time but he began to heal from his trauma. Does that mean he’s a better man now? Not exactly, but he knows how to control his temper and not to completely act on his impulsive anger issues that were handed down from his father. He’s not bad, but he’s not good either. He’s reunited with his mother and already forgiven her. He didn’t hesitate that was his mom after all. Him and his father only meet up if they have too after having their showdown a couple of years ago, which is how Orion prefers it anyway. Certain things still trigger Orion but for the most part he’s charming as hell but still intimidating as fuck. He only gets his  hands dirty when he needs too.
OKAY! So that’s a lot and that’s the best I can summarize about my boys development over the last six years! Now for some light hearted head canons,yeah? I think I need therapy from writing all that.
(tw: smoking) you will never see Orion without a cigarette in his hand/mouth. from a young age smoking became a comfort. he doesn’t need it as much as he did back then but its more of a security thing now.
he has a lucky lighter he won from a bar fight. it’s a red zippo lighter in the shape of two pieces of dice. Snake eye’s to be exact.
because of his interest in bugs and reptiles he has a black snake tattoo the looks like its wrapped around his forearm. looks something like this [IMAGE HERE] 
Older Orion has a small tattoo on each of his fingers representing his children. A bat for Axel, Nova is a star, Sage for Sage (but looks more like a flower), and the moon for Draco.
Orion enjoys being isolated/alone that’s when he feels most like himself. despite his background Orion does quite  well in social situations. he adapts to new environments easily and can be quite charming if you’re on his good side.
Orion prefers the more expensive liquor since that's what he grew up with but his favorite and comfort drink is whiskey with ice.
When Orion is alone he enjoys reading/learning about new topics. He’s well educated but most people don’t experience that side of him.
he hates the holidays, for obvious reasons. doesn’t mind Halloween though.
he has a hate/love relationship with the Teague siblings. Logan annoys the hell outta of him, Beckham is stand-offish and Sadie is the only one he truly gets along with. But deep down their Orion’s only friends and he appreciates them. Will he tell them that? Not until hell freezes over.
Orion’s zodiac sign is Sagittarius
Orion doesn’t keep up with his casino daily- the assets yes, but the actual place no. However he does show up every once in awhile to cheat people out of their money. What can i say he’s a gamblin man.
.Spoken Word/Singing is Orion’s favorite music genre. he’ll go to the grave denying that but he relates to a lot of the bands like la dispute, hobo johnson, front porch step. But he enjoys most kind of music. His most recently played song is Self Care by Mac Miller. [LISTEN HERE]
Now when it comes to Sadie Teague things are different. She’s the only person that really challenges him. He admires her perseverance and her will to do things on her own. Their relationship is complicated. Friends? Friends with Benefits? But his feelings are starting to get intertwined, but how to express feelings he’s never felt before?
favorite color is red
Vitani also intrigues him/she’s not annoying like regular happy go lucky people. He enjoys her company, maybe he’ll ask if she needs a job at the casino.
4 notes · View notes
magicofthepen · 3 years
Text
Gallifrey Relisten: Lies
In the chaos of.....all of November....totally forgot I meant to relisten to this episode sooner! Which is odd because Series 2 is definitely one of the high points of Gallifrey for me (apparently listening to everything slowly collapse into the civil war is super engaging and interesting? idk Series 2 just does a lot of solid character work and storytelling and good narrative progression to the “ahhh everything is very bad” finale...and I’m not sure how to feel about this, given *gestures at the world these days*). But anyways, now for some thoughts on the series opener:
Fun fact: From the TV show alone, Romana I was my favorite. (This had something to do with her having more character growth in season 16 than season 17, since her early days on the TARDIS involve the “wait my academic success does not necessarily translate to the real world” realization and learning about worlds and people different from her own and growing from High-Achieving Student to Adventurer in her own right. Also I loved the grudgingly-working-together to actual-friends arc with her and the Doctor. I was a bit less interested in her character when she was just going around being a capable adventurer, although I did become invested in Romana II in her last episodes, as she quietly grapples with the issue of what she wants to do next in life and eventually chooses to go off on her own. Also to be fair, I appreciate the fun times of Season 17 a lot more now because Romana being happy and having a good time traveling around the universe? What a concept.) 
All this to say: me on my first listen of Gallifrey was very excited about Romana I being in this episode. And even though it’s not quite as much of a !!!!! thing for me these days (the Gallifrey audios have long since solidified Romana II as my favorite), I do love the (sort of) multi-Romana interaction that happens in this one.
Brax essentially going “yeah the education system is supposed to be shitty and take an emotional toll on you” sir.
“I am not xenophobic” — Oh yeah, this scene is Narvin at his most unlikeable. “I’m not being bigoted, I’m just trying to protect Gallifrey, the fact that I assume that people who aren’t from here inherently can’t be trusted, and also go on about how they’re too loud and disruptive and don’t belong is definitely not a bigoted worldview nope.” Yikes. Very glad he’s going to see the error of his ways. 
The Narvin and Darkel rant session does actually do a good job at explaining what’s been happening and establishing the primary conflict of the series while not feeling like it exists solely to be an info dump to catch up the listener. Like, it’s definitely a setup scene, but it is an interesting setup scene. 
“But she is my President, and it’s my job to ensure that she gets what she wants and needs, efficiently and without question. Well, too many questions anyway.” Okay this moment and Darkel and Wynter’s conversation later about Narvin’s weakness (“Loyalty. An unswerving loyalty to his office and his precious CIA. And above all, loyalty to his president.” “He despises President Romana!” “Oh yes, of course. But it’s the position, not the person, he places that trust in.”) are really setting up some key Narvin Character Theses that we’re going to see play out this series (and also that the narrative is going to push in really interesting ways later on..... “position not the person”.....just you wait....) 
Darkel and Narvin being indignant that Romana changed the law is just....hilarious in a kind of horrifying way? Oh no, the President worked with the legislative body to actually get a law passed. The horror.
“She has a temper. And a very long memory.” This is definitely about the CIA trying to overthrow her in Neverland but uhhh also it’s about Etra Prime and the Powers That Be on Gallifrey never making a serious effort to save her (at least from her perspective). 
Yeah Darkel as antagonist is a bit abrupt (not that I particularly mind, she’s a good enough “love to hate” character that her not being set up as an antagonist from Series 1 doesn’t really bother me). But yeah, not sure what was going on behind the scenes, but it doesn’t seem like in Series 1 the plan was for her to be the primary Series 2-3 antagonist.  
Darkel to Narvin: “You will let me know when you’ve decided.” Ooh yeah, this moment is quite a good setup of Narvin’s arc throughout this series — he has to decide where his loyalties truly lie. 
Wynter is really interesting as far as character dynamics go, because he breaks the whole “Romana and Leela are the youngest people in the room” vibe — and it is just really interesting to see Romana interacting with this quite young Time Lord and specifically compare/contrasting it to how she interacts with young Time Lords in the later series when she’s older and a bit more emotionally mature and has more of the “mentor figure” vibes. (There isn’t really a conclusion to this thought, it’s more of a “huh, I’m thinking about this now” thing.)
“It’s been seven weeks, Andred. It’s hardly a lifetime.” Romana: please you have not been in a cell for that long, calm down.
“I thought you two were friends.” “A president of the High Council of Gallifrey cannot allow herself the luxury of friends.” Ahhhh, where it begins!! I’m extremely weak for the arc of Romana opening herself up to friendship and love, what of it. 
Honestly, Andred’s politics have always been very confusing to me? And it probably doesn’t help that the show is all “he’s fully Andred now” but also “he lived as Torvald a long time and that’s still influencing him.” Like both of those things can be true, but it’s a bit unclear what Andred’s true priorities and motivations really are right then — and honestly, it just comes off like his primarily desire is to be useful to someone, and be granted some form of autonomy/power/respect in return (aka he doesn’t have any real clear principles that are motivating him). Also complaining about Romana opening Gallifrey up to aliens is such a bad look dude. 
Romana to Andred: “I control your future. I control whether you have one.” Umm???? The foreshadowing?????
Andred, no. Andred, the free time pun was too much.
“I wish I had databanks. With a flick of a switch I could turn myself off, become unaware of all that has happened.” Leela ahhhhhhhhhh. (The desire to give Leela all the hugs and emotional support is very very high throughout these next couple seasons especially.....her mental health is in such a rough place ahhhh.) 
Andred regenerated “nearly six months ago” and it’s been six and a half (or seven, depending on which character is speaking) weeks since A Blind Eye, which took place an unspecified amount of time after The Inquiry, which took place two weeks after Square One...(don’t mind me, just taking some notes on the timeline math...) 
I believe a couple times in the Gallifrey audios, they reference the position of “Vice President,” which is very weird because that doesn’t seem to be a position that exists?? Chancellor is definitely seen as the #2 spot?? Idk what’s going on here. 
“You are appreciated, highly regarded, and were I to lose you I would be...disappointed.” Romana, you started strong and then you got a bit emotionally repressed there. 
“Torvald was a fool, but he was my fool.” .....I am not saying anything.....I will not be commenting on the Narvin and Andred scene......I just.......you know. There are some fics you cannot unread. 
Romana does really trust Brax here, doesn’t she. And she really doesn’t trust easily post-Etra Prime, so this is a big deal — making it all the rougher when she (in the short term) finds out he meddled with her memories and (in the long term) has to deal with him doing things like temporarily betraying her for the greater good of protecting her while not explaining at all what’s really going on. 
Okay, yes the whole pearl-clutching about Romana changing the laws is kinda silly and horrifying in a “how dysfunctional is your society if passing one (1) law is drastic change??” way, but also the flip side of this, aka “we thought these things were entrenched as norms in our society and would not change and then here comes along one president who’s trying to undo all of these things and threaten the whole system”.....y’all that hits differently now in the month November in the year 2020. In the Gallifrey audios the context is different — they are for sure overreacting to Romana’s very mild idea of “perhaps....we could change some things about society” but the way they talk about her political changes in the episode — feels a bit too close to home!
Romana’s voice right when she sees Leela....she missed her.....
Pandora being the “first female president” is a very weird and very unnecessary bit of misogyny? Ah yes, we must specify that this ancient president of Gallifrey who was wildly power-hungry and cruel and went too far and almost ruined everything Gallifrey had built was a woman?? Why was that bit of dialogue needed?? Tbh early Gallifrey does have a problem in general with characters played by women tending to be power-hungry....which is partly down to the fact that they have so so few women in the cast in general, it’s Romana, Leela, and Villains, mostly. (The lack of women in the supporting cast in early Gallifrey is going to be an ongoing complaint.) 
“You should not be afraid of your feelings, K9.” / “Yes, thank you, if we can move on from the emotional support group session.” Pffffff
I do choose to ignore the implication that Romana returned to Gallifrey and became President because of the subconscious influence of Pandora/the Imperiatrix Imprimatur nudging her towards power. Tbh it’s simply not interesting to me to have such a pivotal character choice reduced to genetic/subconscious manipulation. Yes, Romana ended her TV run insisting she didn’t want to go back to Gallifrey (and even staying in another universe to avoid it), and yes, it creates this initial emotional dissonance suddenly jumping to stories where she’s President of Gallifrey. But I already did the headcanon work before I jumped into Big Finish to make it work for me, I didn’t need this weirdness.
Elaborating on this a bit more: There is something interesting to me about a person who left home and slowly ended up rejecting the narrow worldview she grew up with, cutting herself free from the place she was born — and then eventually choosing to return because she genuinely wanted to make that messed-up world better and believed she could. And it also creates a really interesting contrast with the Doctor: two Time Lords who came to realize that Gallifrey was pretty terrible actually, and one of them kept running away from it and rejecting Time Lord society, and the other came back and said maybe I can change things. Because both are understandable and complicated reactions to have to a messed-up home world, and there are different ways of trying to do good. And regardless of how her choices turned out, I always liked the idea that it was Romana’s own choice that brought her to Gallifrey again, and I don’t think Pandora needed to be shoehorned in to explain her actions.  
Okay, I want to hear the follow up where Leela insists Romana tell the whole Key to Time story after hearing all of these random out of context bits and pieces. 
Why does Brax admit to breaking the Laws of Time? The fact that he’s in contact with his past/future selves isn’t actually relevant to what he needs to tell Narvin? He literally could have just said that he hypnotized Romana, without mentioning that it was his future self who did it? (Also, it’s implied in this one that he pushes for Romana to use the mind wipe on Narvin because he wants the memory of that reveal erased, but somehow that’s the one thing that Narvin keeps because he uses that information against Brax later? Aka: how did Narvin remember that Brax told him this?)  
And final thought: general internal monologue during this episode is just: Pandora arc Pandora arc Pandora arc here we go!! Because the Lies through Warfare run is really one of the more interesting bits of Gallifrey for me (Imperiatrix specifically ranks very high on my favorite episodes list), and I’m excited to be re-listening to/thinking about/hearing other people talk about these episodes!
Next Episode Reaction: Spirit
Previous Episode Reaction: A Blind Eye
11 notes · View notes
alinaastarkov · 4 years
Note
Honestly, like ... it's funny cause I actually liked Sophie before Season 8 aired, because I wasn't paying that much attention to her and her behavior outside the show, you know? Other than Emilia and Kit's interviews I wasn't really following the any of the actors outside of the show. But after the finale aired and everything exploded and fell to pieces, it was like a magnifying glass was put on all of them for me. And then I saw the shit Sophie had been saying for YEARS. (1/?)
Like how it wouldn't be fair if Daenerys got the iron throne because she had dragons, that Daenerys couldn't have EvErYtHiNg - as if she was personally affronted that Daenerys was so popular. And it was the same with Arya! She was constantly saying Sansa was the best character (and like, ok, a lot of actors probably say that about their characters, fine), but also going on about how 'smart' Sansa was and complaining that she wasn't as popular as other female characters (2/?) because she didn't 'act like a man'. 
Thank you so much for this long ask! To keep things organised, I am roughly going to answer this in sections.
I agree with you. I did not pay much attention to any of the cast really, and I’m still not hugely bothered about them. GOT is done and I rarely get invested in cast members. It’s characters I’m interested in. But I remember randomly coming across bts footage of the Jon/Arya hug from season 1, and I just fell in love with those two actors in particular, and I happened to see an interview with Emilia and adored her too. And that’s when I happened to see more of this cast and understand what they were like. But with the final season, and seeing pretty much everyone’s reactions that ranged from forced awkward laughter to straight up saying it sucked, it became incredibly obvious when any single person reacted positively. Even former cast members were saying it sucked, and celebrities not even involved were dragging it, so Sophie’s words on this topic (which I will touch on in a second) were put under a microscope, and subsequently everything she had said before was too. Her hatred for Dany was definitely fed to her by D&D, but there was definitely a jealousy about how other characters and actors were more popular than her. But her comments about female characters in general were so toxic.
I was even annoyed for a hot minute with Maisie too, because of all the shit she and Sophie said about Daenerys while promoting S8 (calling her power-hungry and saying she was worse than Cersei). BUT THEN. I noticed exactly what you said in an earlier post about Maisie going along with WHATEVER Sophie said. And when I re-watched those interviews it was always SOPHIE saying those shitty things, and Maisie just agreeing. (3/?) I even saw the interview you mentioned where Maisie kept changing her answers to match Sophie's. They're friendship comes off as really uneven and toxic, tbh, cause it felt like Sophie was CONSTANTLY running roughshod over Maisie.
Yeah, Maisie’s attitude initially seems off as well, especially with regard to Daenerys. But as you said, she never says this sort of thing in solo interviews, or interviews with other actors. It’s such a shame that there are so few without Sophie, so we rarely get to see what she’s like on her own. It would be one thing I suppose if Maisie gave similar answers to Sophie without much prompting, but she always has one answer, then Sophie speaks, and she changes it based on what she says. That really clearly shows you she is amending her behaviour to fit in with Sophie, which is not good. It does feel so uneven and I’ve had friendships like that and it took a while for me to cut them out. Once I did I felt much better. We obviously don’t know the ins and outs of their relationship, but it does feel very similar.
Sophie's also made uncomfortable comments dealing with racism in the past, she claims to be an advocate for mental health but then behaves abominably towards her castmates (4/?) (making insensitive comments about Kit's drinking during an interview, saying shit about Daenerys when she knows how much that could affect Emilia, etc.), the way she said she "loved" Sansa's rape scene because of how twisted it was, all that in addition to how she defended the show's final season (with it's STRONG xenophobic, isolationist undertones) even though she didn't even watch the last 2-3 episodes (5/?) - how she seemed so smug and happy about the (tone-deaf) ending, even seemed to be celebrating it when it was brought up in interviews (talk about not being able to read the room - seriously, everybody else seemed to realize it, and kept their mouths shut after the required promo period) - her history of sicking her fans on people who disliked Sansa/said anything negative about her on social media even when they didn't @ her (6/?) 
Her comments about race and mental health always made me uncomfortable too. I was sympathetic to her struggle with mental health, but then she invalidates everyone else’s struggles and it just made me dislike her even more. You can’t be an advocate for mental health and then say stuff like that about other people. Those two things do not go together. You could see when she said that stuff about Kit’s drinking that, though the audience laughed, everyone in the cast including Kit gave awkward smiles and giggles to cover how uncomfortable they were because they didn’t want to make a scene. And the way she talks about other characters is disrespectful. These characters mean a lot to the people who play them, and she does not react well when people give the same back to her. It reminds of John Boyega and his comments about Reylo and Ben Solo especially, knowing how much his castmates, Adam and Daisy in particular, love the character and how much he means to them, and he went ahead and said those things anyway, fuelling his fans to be cruel to other fans. It’s not as bad as Sophie perhaps, but it’s just poor form when these people are supposed to be professional. Sophie’s comments about Sansa’s rape scene came straight from D&D’s mouth, but she has to be at least a little self-aware about how that sounds and how gross it is, especially when she loves it because of how gross it was. You don’t see Emilia defending Drogo, do you?
Her reaction to the ending was so telling because it was the single positive opinion in a sea of negativity. Everyone else, including people no longer in the show and celebrities who were never involved, hated it and called it out to varying degrees (there was still contracts to fulfill) for how tone-deaf and nonsensical it was, and there was the table-read were everyone was devastated, but Sophie was grinning the entire time. She liked the show because her character won in the end. Sophie is not a writer, and it’s obvious when she praises the writing of this show (and criticises others which had far fewer problems than this). She did not care how nonsensical and crass the rest of the show was, as long as her character ended up on top, and then went out of her way to criticise people who hated it. Other actors have done the same, but on top of everything else it’s not a good look. And don’t even get me started on her behaviour on social media. It’s gross and not something we can blame on someone else.
after all that, everything about her just reeks of this 'woe-is-me I'm so oppressed white feminist' bs. It makes it impossible for me to like her now. Like, I think I'm only 1-2 years older than her, I don't come from nearly as much privilege as she does, and she has all the resources in the world to be educating herself and improving herself but...I don't see anything resembling that kind of growth in her. (7/7)
Yeah I can only agree. I’m five years younger than her and you would never catch me acting the way she does. She’s 24, she’s an adult, and obviously early fame and the producers affected her, but at some point we can’t keep absolving her of blame. She could be educating herself and alleviating her own ignorance, but it seems like she’s just doubling down. Maisie has had the same troubling influence from an earlier age, and she is younger, but she is not acting this way. I’m not hugely into following actors’ lives as I said, but when this was brought to my attention it rubbed me the wrong way. I am perfectly fine to ignore her as best I can, but I don’t have to like her. You don’t have to like celebrities if they’re not great people, and I don’t like her. And I’m glad the show is over so her castmates can go on to bigger and better things and leave that toxic environment the show created behind.
53 notes · View notes