#fuck it cringe culture will die within me one step at a time

[ghoul--doodle]

Sometimes I get to be a little bit cringe and have fun and make a riordanverse oc

[thatgirl4815]

BL/QL Ask Game : The Ugly, the Bad and the Worst

I was tagged by the lovely @waitmyturtles for this game! Thank you! It was fun! Admittedly though, it has been very difficult for me to pin down some of my answers. I know that there are definitely more bad BLs/QLs that I've managed to forget about (thankfully), so this is what I managed to come up with off the top of my head.

I'm learning as I'm doing this that I am much more equipped to talk about what I like compared to what I don't like, so apologies for unintentionally side-stepping some of these questions, haha.

*Original post can be found here

Worst soundtrack / weirdest song choice in a BL -> This might be an unpopular opinion, but the part of LITA where Payu sings to Rain stands out in my mind, because it just felt so forced in and uncomfortable. I also watched 2gether a long time ago, but I remember feeling like some of the singing just felt...off. I always find singing in BL cringey to some extent, so it's hard for me to judge any song fairly because I'm too busy squealing in agony.

Most cringe-inducing line (cute) -> To keep it recent, I'll say "Without wind, how can a windmill spin?" from Dangerous Romance, because it's so on the nose, but I'll admit it is endearing. The wind/windmill thing is giving me MAME, LITA flashbacks, and I'd just prefer to avoid those cliches altogether.

Most cringe-inducing line (actually bad) -> As I said above, I'm sure there are many more I could pick out with time, but the one standing out in my head is "If you don't have sexual intercourse within 2 hours, the poison will spread to your internal organs and you will die." For reference, this line comes less than a minute into the first episode of Tonhon Chonlatee. Suffice to say, I promptly closed my computer screen and that was the end of that. (I love Khao but they failed him here.)

Most stupid decision made by a character -> For Leo to give a single flying fuck about Fiat in Don't Say No. I know this sounds harsh, but I have such disdain for Fiat's character. All he did in TT season 2 and Don't Say No was whine...and yet Leo still liked him? He still wanted to be in a relationship with him? I'm failing to see what it is about Fiat that attracts him.

Worst plot line -> There are a lot of contenders here, but SCOY was pretty bad and ultimately pointless. And I don't think I've ever cringed harder for an extended period of time.

The most problematic show you've watched -> The fact that I'm going to put TharnType above KinnPorsche speaks volumes. At least KP was self-aware and eased us into the problematic content. TT didn't hold its punches at all.

A show people love but you find bad -> For me, it's probably A Tale of a Thousand Stars. Bad is a strong word, because I wouldn't say it was bad...it was just boring. I was really into it for the first couple of episodes, but the longer it went on, the more depthless I found Phupha to be. There was actually a point I remember thinking that Tian should be with Longtae instead. And thus my love for Khaotung was born.

A show people find bad but you will defend -> I'll say KinnPorsche too, because I also think it was a cultural reset for Thai BL in a lot of ways. I know a lot of people found Love Mechanics problematic, but I personally really like YinWar's chemistry and found the storyline compelling enough, so I'll defend it for that.

A show that is just objectively bad but you enjoyed it -> War of Y? Not sure if this counts since I didn't finish (but I'll give myself a pass since it does cover a bunch of different couples, so it's basically like several shows all in one). I think it had the potential to say interesting things about toxicity in the Thai QL industry, but it just...didn't? Or it tried to, but it ultimately fell flat. Anyways, the part that I watched (BillySeng's storyline, I think) was entertaining enough.

A bad show that you kept watching because you were intrigued/fascinated -> TharnType. I was fascinated to see if either of the leads (but mostly Type) could possibly get more annoying/problematic. Spoiler alert: they could.

A bad show that you kept watching because you were horny -> Hmm, maybe Big Dragon?

A bad show that you kept watching because of that one character -> This is so hard because I don't think Until We Meet Again is a bad show, but the first thing that popped into my head was Win and Team, mostly Win. I was getting annoyed with the main plot, but I looked forward to seeing my man Win whenever possible. (Plus BounPrem are cute together.)

A bad show that you would still recommend -> Goodness, idk...Why R U? was kinda fun. Even though I wouldn't say I found it particularly great (probably due to the cuts they made due to COVID).

The character that ruined a show the most -> Fiat in Don't Say No. That one's a no-brainer.

Most awful character that you hated -> Fiat. Get him off my screen.

Most awful character that you loved -> Vegas. I love to hate him.

A character that wasn't awful but that you just don't like -> Rain in LITA. I found him annoying. I get that his behavior was supposed to be cute, but he just came across as pouty and immature.

A hero that should have been a villain -> I kinda think Kim in KinnPorsche would've been a good villain? It would've been unexpected. Also, something about Jeff Satur playing a villainous character is just *chef's kiss* (if he had played Vegas, I think I would've lost my mind).

A morally bad character you're into -> Vegas from KP. Also Vee from Love Mechanics because the cheating stuff was bad, but I also just find him very endearing? He was having an internal crisis, which isn't an excuse, but I empathized with him. (Can I throw Ray from Only Friends in here as well? Not sure he entirely fits. Apparently I'm just looking for any excuse to bring up Khaotung, lol.)

A morally bad character you're not into and you wish people would stop being into -> I'm having a hard time with this one...my first thought was Boston because his behavior makes me sick to my stomach, but I think it's funny how other people are into him. Like I get it even if I don't agree with it (Neo is hot, in any case).

The show that disappointed you the most -> This one is hard. I guess I'd say A Tale of A Thousand Stars? As I said above, I loved it at first, but I started to get so bored.

The Worst Show of Them All Because of Your Own Reasons -> Don't Say No. Sorry Fiat.

Whew, that was much harder than I thought! Will tag some of my moots if any of y'all wanna play--as always, no pressure! :) @abstractelysium @thegalwhorants @nihilisticcondensedmilk @bird-inacage @aprilblossomgirl @dreamedofyou @firstkanaphans @itsmelb @k-white @way-too-indecisive @autisticbokutoenthusiast

And of course, anybody and everybody is welcome to play along!

[fulltimemoaner]

Just something cute like Childe and Zhongli are crushing on each other but they think the other doesn't share their feelings so both of them are being dumd and trying very hard to hide their feelings. Meanwhile, everyone knows they're in love with each other.

Zhongli knows he is being irrational, there is nothing in the world that could possibly bind an adeptus and a human together, nothing short of disaster and broken hearts, anyways. Of course, there are adepti that could argue with his stance, such as the law consultant Yanfei, who is the very product of such a connection. However, the vast difference between a mere law consultant an ex archon is omnipresent in his mind, and so is the fact that he is more than five thousand years older than a certain troublemaker. When he sips his painstakingly prepared tea, his face sours, the leaves leaving a bitter tinge on his tongue, over-boiled and somewhat stale. There went six hours of wasted kitchen labour, all due to his own knack for overthinking and contemplating. He had all the time in the world, after all, to drown in his own musings, even if Hu Tao was still yelling at him to do his duties and other earthly errands. No, Zhongli didn’t look down on those, quite the opposite. He had taken to loving the simple life of the human Zhongli, without the hassles of being Morax. Humanity, however, came with its cons, such as attraction and irrationality. Again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t loved as an Adeptus, madly so, perhaps, but this wasn’t the time for him to be arguing with himself. He simply had to put his desires on a leash. He took another sip of bitter tea.

There was no way Ajax liked him back, after all. He was young, a few millennia so, (yes, he isn’t about to stop repeating that to himself) and strong, quick witted, humorous, loud, adventurous- Everything that Zhongli had lost in the past thousand years of being Morax. A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he leans his chin into the inside of his palm. In times like these, it’s hard not to miss Jueyun Karst and the company of his kind, it’s in times like these when he is filled with confusion and lack of understanding involving the humans he so greatly adores. He wonders if the loss of his Gnosis led to the loss of some of the divine, whether it brought him closer to the earthly beings, which was why he found his heart squeezing so hard at the thought of ginger hair and aquamarine eyes.

A loud thud shakes Zhongli out of his reverie, the sliding door of the Wangsheng Funeral parlour slamming open to reveal Hu Tao’s gleaming eyes, as well as a very handsome yet petrified Snezhnayan. “Zhongli!” The woman coos, her hand holding an iron grip on the Harbinger’s wrist. “Someone needs your assistance.”

“Tartaglia.” Zhongli clears his throat, easing into his front of apathy despite his hammering heartbeat.

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli.” Childe laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in that telltale way that radiated tides of awkwardness that would put his elemental abilities to shame. “There is a death within the Fatui,” He’s lying. No one has died under his watch. “And we need to bury him, it’s too hot to transport him back to Snezhnaya as it is.” His stuttering voice is probably giving him out, but Hu Tao elbows his ribs so hard he almost gasps.

“Ah, what a tragedy!” The parlour owner throws a hand over her eyes. “Such honoured guests suffering a loss like that! Zhongli, this calls for your assistance. I am so busy and I’m afraid my knowledge in Snezhnayan burial customs is vastly limited, so feel free to take this on!” She gives Zhongli the most suspicious thumbs up known to mankind and sticks her tongue out, and just like she always comes and goes, she practically evaporates out of the room.

Childe is sweating. He is staring at Zhongli with wide eyes and a suspicious tingle in his stomach, a playback of Scaramouche’s words rolling in his brain like a jammed tape.

“Go short your stupid crush out. Don’t show your face in the Northern Bank until you are ready to act normal, fucking idiot. You’re slowing us down, and by the Tsaritsa, I’m not above ratting you out and having you demoted to an errand boy.”

Childe almost cringes at the memory of the aggression in the Sixth Harbinger’s voice. He is going to kill him. Childe Tartaglia Ajax is a massive coward, and he is about to be murdered by his superior because he has a crush on a six thousand year old adeptus that is too good for him and wouldn’t bat-

“How did they die?”

Childe’s brain is like a train about to derail. Zhongli is up now, boiling some tea that smells suspiciously much like Jasmine, just like Ajax prefers it. If he tries to do as much as think of a single thing, all he can do is visualise Zhongli’s golden eyes gleaming underneath the lanterns of that odd Liyuan festival that Childe did not exactly comprehend, be it for his lack of interest at the time, or his complete concentration on that rich voice that kept whispering tales to him about the lanterns and the dead and the local myths.

“There is no one dead.” Childe blurts out, now or never. To be frank, he is absolutely shitting it. This is harder than fighting in the Abyss, worse than getting his ass kicked repeatedly by Traveller and that flying chicken that followed him around all the time-

“I seem to have misunderstood.” Zhongli watches him confusedly, teapot hanging forgotten on one hand. Childe can almost visualise him making that very same tea in his home in Snezhnaya, with the raging blizzards going strong outside, his soothing voice telling tales of dragons and giant monsters to his baby siblings to entertain them for a lack of anything better to do in the catastrophic winter. “You do not need my assistance?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not in that way.” Childe grunts, rubbing his eyes with both hands, stood ten feet away from Zhongli because he simply can’t stand the way his body burns when their shoulders brush together. The ex archon continues to look completely lost, his lips slightly open and his brows furrowed in his weak attempt to grasp the situation. Childe is stubborn, ridiculously brave at most instances, but above all, he is an idiot. And like an idiot, he says: “Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

Zhongli stills, blinking stupidly, unable to tell whether this was another one of the Harbinger’s jokes that their generational and cultural gap didn’t allow him to understand. He places the teapot down. “Excuse me?”

Childe wants to smack himself across the face. He forces out a loud laugh. “No, that was a joke!” He can feel the hairs on the side of his head sticking to his face. If the Abyss could swallow him again, now was the time. “What I mean is…” Childe takes in a deep breath. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Zhongli stares at the wall across him, way past Ajax, into the eyes of some unseen divine force that is absolutely messing with him right then. “Did Hu Tao put you up to this?” After all, she always told him he needed to get laid, but he never understood where exactly he was supposed to be reclining. Mortal language had taken to weird expressions over the centuries.

“No, God, no,” Childe shakes his hands defensively. “Alright, mr. Zhongli, I’m so into you I can’t sleep at night, and I have been like that since I first saw you walking by Wanmin Restaurant, when you were trying some local delicacy and doing your ridiculous, bourgeoise critique on the authenticity of the flavours-” Childe goes quiet, his rant dying amidst its blooming as he watched Zhongli’s eyes soften and his brows tense, an unmistakable redness spreading over the adeptus’ face. “Mr. Zhongli?”

“Ajax, stop.” Zhongli hasn’t felt this flustered in thousands of years. He isn’t sure what it is about this human that is so awfully endearing, but it’s making him sear and liquify from the inside. “I’ll go out with you. We need to discuss the place and time, as well as the attire and the mood of the overall meeting, since leaving things unclear leads to misunderstandings that can not be resolved without-”

Ajax’s smile is stretching so wide across his face that he fears it’s going to split, a sudden ego boost booming so hard into his chest that he feels like he could fight the entire Fatui army and win. He takes a few steps forward and puts his hands on the table in front of the ex archon, hovering slightly above him. “Leave it to me.” He leans in closer and Zhongli can smell the exotic perfume on his skin. “There’s only one question left.”

“What?” Zhongli treads carefully, his jaw setting when a gloved hand finds his chin and tips his head back, fixing their gazes together.

“Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

[duncvns]

Nothing Like Normal (Michael Langdon) Part 2

Here’s part two! I’ve had this written for ages but I was busy with other one-shots and headcanons to finish proofreading this chapter. This chapter takes place before and during the episode Fire and Reign, next part will take place in the episode The End. 

There aren’t really any warnings: Slight religious blasphemy, mentions of Satan (it’s a Michael story, what do you expect)

Life didn't feel real for Lilith anymore. She was out of herself, her soul, if she had one, had seemed to completely leave her body. Michael has never been anything but helpful and comforting to his partner over the difficult realization. He had no reason to be cruel to her if his father hand-picked her as his handmaid. They would merge and sculpt their powers together, creating beautiful monstrosities within the palm of their hands.

"You're so beautiful, my little demoness." He would run his large, ring clad fingers under her chin and back up onto her cheek, caressing her smooth, supple skin. She would flush at the nickname and place her hand on top of his, feeling the inevitable spark between the two of them.

They just fit so well together. Hell, they were made for each other, literally.

Michael had brought up the idea of sex to Lilith, but was automatically shut down. It's not that she was opposed to sex, she just had to get through her brain that she was actually going to perform the act with the antichrist.

He gently nodded, understanding how she felt. He went through the same ordeal after he found out his true identity. Little did Lilith know, his entire family turned on him, his own mother tried to kill him.

They would partake in rituals with their father whenever they felt the need to. Most of them were blood rituals, others were animal and human sacrifices. Meade would help with those when they needed help.

Lilith continued to dig through her powers, harvesting every dark gift her father equipped her with. She mastered Tempus Infinitum, being able to go back in time with a chant of a few words. Michael read Revelations to her shortly after her real identity was spoken of, revealing to her the immortality she possessed, just like him.

Today, however, Michael had a meeting with the infamous Cooperative. He insisted Lilith accompany him instead of Meade since she was his Angel of Death. He was dreading it since he had to speak to Jeff and Mutt whom he hated with a passion. Lilith convinced him to suck up his pride and carry out the meeting since it's what his father wants.

They were one step closer to the apocalypse and both Michael and Lilith were more than ready. The world needed to be cleaned of the scum on the streets and repopulated with select individuals that Michael or Lilith handpicked.

"This place is so strange," Michael sighed, curling his red leather clad fingers together. Lilith glanced up at him before looking back ahead of her. She tightened her grip around his arm comfortingly as they continued walking. "Why would the worlds wealthiest 0.1% choose to wear so much flannel and Patagonia?"

"They think true power lies in not flaunting theirs. Idiots." Lilith answered. Michael looked down at her with a smirk on his face. They continued their way down the brick walkway, passing the wealthy residents that strode past them.

"Well, I just hope I can pry them away from their horseback riding and hot yoga long enough to convince them to help me," Lilith stops and moves her hand from his arm, fed up with his uncertainty. He stopped a couple steps in front of her, his entire stance confused.

"You've got to be kidding me,"

"I'm just, I'm nervous." He reached his hands down and wrung his hands with Lilith's, drawing attention to the young couple.

"Against all odds, you found your way to this place and to the brink of fulfilling your destiny. And all those people are quaking in their overpriced boots because they know they're about to come face-to-face with true greatness." She spoke sternly, the authoritative tone taking Michael by surprise. "You're the one they're waiting for. They all pledged their soul to your father and to serving you, and they're starving for you to show them the way. It's time to do what you were put on this Earth to do: destroy it."

Michael took a deep breath and nodded before continuing down the brick paver, his angel of death held tightly onto his arm.

-

"Esteemed members of The Cooperative. World leaders, tech giants. Media moguls, and cultural influencers. The rumors you heard are true. My name is Michael Langdon, and I am the Antichrist." A burst of murmurs erupted around the room, scattered gasps spread about The Cooperative members. "This is my Angel of Death, Lilith. My spiritual and life partner," He extended a hand out to Lilith, urging her to step forward.

She took over, letting Michael retrieve the guides to the running of the outposts. "Humanity is at a crossroads. The world as it is today, the poverty, the hunger, the greed, and war, it's no longer sustainable. The time has come to wipe the slate clean. Friends, it's time for the apocalypse." Excited murmurs erupted again throughout the crowd of masked individuals before Michael hushed them with his voice.

"I understand your trepidation. But let me remind you are here because of the gifts bestowed upon you by my father. In return, you gave him your immortal souls. He owns you. Therefore, we own you," He extended his hand back out to Lilith at the mention of her. "We speak with one voice and our demands are his." He hands the large stack of black folders to Lilith who begins to pass them around to every one of the Cooperative members.

"Now, as you'll see from the handy guides provided by my Lilith, I do not intend to leave you and your families to die. When fire rains down on the unwashed masses, you and your families will be safely squirreled away in a network of luxury fallout shelters."

"You already have the resources." Lilith placed yet another folder down in front of another member. "You just bought land on New Zealand's South Island. You own half of Bora Bora. The bunker underneath your ranch in Texas could easily fit 20 people. With a little construction and some retrofitting, these sites will make the perfect outposts to ride out the end of the world." She handed out the last portfolio before standing back next to Michael. He grabbed her hand and intertwined it with his. Lilith smiled shyly, trying to hide the small act of innocence from the members.

"And with the admission price of $100 million, only the truly worthy will gain admission. Turn to page six, section one. Outpost Construction."

-

A couple weeks after The Cooperative meeting, Lilith found herself in the same bed as Michael, preparing for the initial blast that was happening in a few days time. She and Michael were finalizing sells for outpost tickets, already filling up all of the compounds on the East coast with the truly wealthy. They were discussing how they were going to ride out the initial blast. They eventually decided that Lilith was going to be locked under Michaels old warlock school, Hawthorn academy, with a wiped-clean Meade. Lilith was going to disguise herself as an elite, while Meade would take on an administrative role.

When he could, Michael would venture out into the wasteland and handpick the ones worthy for The Sanctuary. Only then will they see each other again, if he even made it that far.

The bombs would detonate with a code word only Michael, Lilith, and the cooperative knew. The world would be in ashes in mere seconds, leaving less than 100 people alive, safe, and healthy.

"Remind me to re-inform Jeff and Mutt to wipe Ms. Meade, the coke heads most likely forgot." He sneered, watching as his demoness took note. Lilith fell silent as she scribbled down an array of words, her hand moving inhumanely fast, guiding the pen easily on the rough, white paper. Michael watched her nimble hands work.

"Marry me, Lilith," Michael spoke. The fallen angel furrowed her eyebrows, parting her lips in slight shock. She chuckled a bit before turning her attention back on the neat scrawl she wrote moments before.

"Michael-"

"I'm serious, Lilly." He knocked the pen and paper away from her effortlessly with a flick of his finger. He rose onto his knees and captured her smaller hands within his. "I know you're the one He sent for me. You're strong, abrasive, utterly intoxicating, and remarkably powerful. Let me make a vow to you, baby."

Lilith ran her tongue across her top lip slowly, letting his words sink in. "Isn't me literally being made for you enough already?" Michael heaved in a short breath before running his hands through his golden blonde hair and moving from the bed. "I mean- we're planning the fucking Armageddon right now, doesn't that alone prove my loyalty to you?"

"But I want to be able to call you my wife and not just my life partner." His cold eyes were sincere, something that nobody ever saw, not even Lilith. His cool, clammy hands ran across her jaw, tracing the perfect bone structure.

"Marriage is Christian, Michael. Under the eye of God, remember?"

Michael cringed at the mention of God, the word foreign in the air of their home. "Fuck all that wedding ceremony bullshit. It only matters in the eyes of our father. I don't care what we do, Lilly, I just want to be able to call you my wife."

Lilith rolled her pale eyes, before nodding. "I'll marry you, Michael, If that's what you want." He smiled in triumph before taking her face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to her lips.

"Thank you so much, Lilly." He murmured against her lips, sending vibrations down her entire form. She smiled against her lover, breathing in the warm scent of his happiness. "But I'm not wearing white and I'm not saying 'I do'."

Michael chuckled, brushing some of her long auburn hair from her face. "You're not going to be in anything, baby." He purred, licking over her bottom lip. She gasped, opening her mouth perfectly for Michael to lick into. Lilith wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Body to body.

Lilith loved Michaels body. She loved how lanky he was, how he wasn't coursed with rough muscles. She loved his tummy. At night, when he was asleep, she'd run her fingers over the bare skin, mapping each and every dip and dazzle in his honey skin. He was perfect in the most imperfect way ever, and that drew her in more than she already was.

Michael pulled her out of her thoughts by pulling away from the kiss with a soft hum. He ran his hands over Lilith's face before pushing a piece of her long auburn hair behind her ear. "My father really knows how to make attractive specimens, doesn't he?" His voice was low and drawn out, nearly putting her in a daze.

"He made you, the most attractive specimen ever sculpted,"

"I could argue that, my gorgeous little angel of death."

-

A little birdie of Instagram told me to tag people in the stories I write, so I’m doing just that. If you want to be added or taken off of this tag list, please let me know!

DT

@lanawintrs @wroteclassicaly @langdonsrapture @lvngdvns @katiekitty261 @holylangdon @icylangdon

[greet-a-new-friend]

In Reference To Linkin Park

I’m gonna put this under a read more ‘cause it was hard to write. And long. Very long. 

Yeah this is gonna be hard.

I’ve had this in my drafts since 11pm last night, trying to articulate how I feel, and it keeps being deleted. I don’t think I can find the words.

If you don’t know-- Chester Bennington, a member of the band Linkin Park, took his own life at 9:00am local time, which in Britain, was 5pm. 

I’m lost.

People here, although I rarely post anymore, know it’s very rare for especially me of all our system members to be lost for words. But I’m lost for words, really and truly. 

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t want to move.

When I first listened to Linkin Park, I was probably about nine or ten. This might seem silly, but those times were probably the worst of our life. We had no idea what to do with ourselves-- Just coming out of a bad situation in itself, I didn’t know how to function without...well, pain. 

Then I listened to Linkin Park.

It was just youtube, something I stumbled across after listening to Evanescence and deciding I wasn’t that into it. The first song I heard was Numb, and it struck a chord somewhere within all of us. If there’s anything we as a collective felt, it was the inferiority of us compared to our parents’ expectations, and that was what we linked the song with.

In time, Linkin Park became my vent band. And I know-- It’s an “emo” band considered “cringy” and known for the memes and whatever. I don’t CARE. I hid it because of that. I didn’t go to meetups and concerts because of that. “Cringe” FUCKING culture stopped me from meeting my idol before he--

Before he was gone. 

So fuck that. Fuck all of that. They’re my vent band. I’m not afraid of that. I LOVE LINKIN PARK! I’m not ashamed of that! Not anymore! They’re talented people, and Chester was a wonderful person, and he deserved so much better. 

There’s a list of artists and bands I listen to when I’m in a bad mood. Sad, upset, overwhelmed, angry, jealous-- And at the top of that list was Linkin Park. Although I admit I stopped listening to them-- Why? Because people thought it was “cringy” and “bad”. Because people laughed.

It all seems so petty now, giving up something I loved so other people would perceive me better. 

But it helped. A lot of time, when I contemplated...when I contemplated offing myself, I’d listen to Linkin Park, and I’d be calm. Somehow. Despite the loudness and intensity, my breath slowed down, I closed my eyes, and I felt okay. Just for a moment, barely a second, I would feel okay, and I would think rationally. 

That’s all you need to stop you from doing it. One time I was even actually on the roof of a building, that moment was the thing that made me step back and not forward. 

I guess in this case Chester didn’t have a moment. 

Linkin Park saved my life on more than one occasion. Chester’s vocals saved my life on MORE THAN ONE OCCASION. I wanted to meet him-- I wanted to be part of the sound, I wanted to be surrounded by the music that saved me time and time again, and one of my only life goals was to meet Chester, my idol in terms of singing and voice, and thank him for changing my life.

So the reason I didn’t want to move this morning was not because I was lazy, or that I couldn’t be assed to go to school. The reason I didn’t want to move this morning was because as soon as everybody woke up with the body we all collectively realized that we will never get to thank Chester in person for all he’s done.

Or even just have a conversation-- Shake his hand, smile, get him to sign an album or something, I don’t know! Anything! I just wanted to do something to give back.

The realization I never can destroyed me this morning.

So here I am, on a Linkin Park binge, laughing because of the irony of it all. Because even when he’s gone, Chester’s still saving me. 

So I guess this is partially a thank you.

Thank you, Chester Bennington. I know you’ll never read this-- We never got to meet you like we wanted to. But thank you so much. Thank you so much for your music and your time and your passion. Thank you so much for just existing.

I wish I could give you better than the curve ball you got dealt. I wish I could somehow turn back time to way before I was a twinkle in my parents’ eyes and give you what you gave me-- A better life, an easier ride. 

Although maybe you wouldn’t want that. 

I don’t know.

I’ll never get to know.

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for being embarrassed of my love of Linkin Park. I’m so sorry for being embarrassed that the music that pulled be away from the edge was sung by you. 

And to anyone else reading this...God, I don’t know how you made it this far. I can barely stand to type any of this...But I knew I needed to post something for Chester. In his memory. Rest In Peace Chester Bennington-- The man I can only hope has a better life wherever he is now, because he damn well deserves it. 

If you EVER feel like you need to hurt yourself or you want to die, I’M HERE. I know, I’m a stranger on the internet and it doesn’t matter, because I can say anything here-- Whatever! Very true! But I’m here. I’ll listen. I’ll help anyway I can. 

There’s always another answer. PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS. There’s always another answer. There’s a way out. This isn’t the end for you. So please, please, talk to me, or go to a helpline, or talk to a teacher or parent or family member or friend, or just look up something comforting.

Don’t kill yourself.

Don’t. Chester has million people devastated over him. Not just because he’s famous. There are thousands of people who would stop and freeze when they see your picture in the obituaries. DON’T. 

You’re worth something. You’re useful. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect in your own way.

So talk to someone.

R.I.P Chester Bennington-- You really did change my life. I’ll never forget you. Not for a day I live will I forget you. Thank you so much. For everything.

That’s all I have to say.

Bye.

[pewtercity-citizen]

So You Wanna Punch Nazis? Here’s a 3-Step Guide

Let’s all be realistic with how the world is doing: It sucks. Sure, we are getting our advancements here and there, and some progress in other areas. But, telling by the fact the world “Nazi” has been thrown into this article within the first five words, the chances are that there’s a good— and depressing— reason for that.

       Recently, there’s a video going around of an unknown man absolutely clocking the shit out of Neo-Nazi Richard Spencer. If that sounds funny to you, it gets better, because you can see it for yourself right here. But wait, there’s more! As if the insatiable fist of justice wasn’t sated enough, Neo-Nazi Spencer was then punched a second time. Pretty soon, the man is going to have to wear a motorcycle helmet and a mouth guard just to mow his lawn.

           And so, the “Punch a Nazi” movement has been given the highest honor of recognition: memes.

           To be fair, punching a Nazi feels pretty damn good. I’ve never done it, but it must if everyone wants to do it. After all, they’re Nazis. But now, I’m gonna bring up that guide I mentioned in the title. I’m sorry to say that it’s not a “how-to” guide on how to punch a Nazi. If you want that guide, here’s the video again. No, this is a guide to the preparation of the action, namely, the mental preparation. Yes, you have to mentally prepare yourself to assault someone— anyone— even if they’re a Nazi. “Are you saying Nazis deserve sympathy?!” No, it just bring me to my first point…

 1. Make Sure They’re Really a Nazi

Neo-Nazi Richard Spencer has truly spoiled us. A real-life Nazi! Wowzers! Right out in the open just waiting for the ol’ one-two! For those of you quick to defend Neo-Nazi Spencer, here’s a few helpful documents and videos where he declares his stances. Now, here’s the video of him getting punched again. And here’s a direct quote in jpeg format:

Neo-Nazi Richard Spencer is one of the most clear-cut examples of a modern Nazi. Sure, he’s not a “throw the Jews in camps,” Nazi, but that’s because he’s a Nazi of the modern era. God damn it, he’s the best there is when it comes to a true-to-life bag of garbage. And that’s a big problem.

We can’t expect every person we wanna punch to be on the same wavelength of bigotry as Spencer. And yet, that’s exactly what happens. We look at examples like this, and somewhere else, someone does the same thing to someone less deserving, and it hurts everyone. For example, let’s talk about social justice. In just seeing those two words on the screen, you did one of two things: You smiled happily, or you cringed. “Social Justice” is a big-name term, and that’s a good thing. People in the United States can now have topics like transgender rights, women’s rights, police brutality statistics, and cultural appropriation. All of these are great topics, that are now able to be talked about in the modern age, because people have fought (sometimes died) to put these topics on the table. And now, people want to be a part of that movement of change. However, they do this in ways that are almost laughable terrible.

One example is the University of Ottawa, which had a yoga class cancelled due to “cultural appropriation.” Not even a plea to be cancelled, it was actually, completely banned from the university. While cultural appropriation is an actual problem around the world, banning yoga is akin to also banning karate, aikido, acupuncture, incense, meditation, tarot cards, tea, and then the fork, which is a Chinese invention. When you ban enough things, saying that only a certain culture or person of color can utilize that thing, you then have something else on your hands: segregation. Cultural appropriation is useful to tell your friend Mike that his sombrero and fake mustache he bought for Halloween makes him look like a racist tool, or for telling an entire football team that their name is one, big racist dick move. Even if your intention is good, you need to make sure your target is deserving of it.

Now apply this to violence.

Violence adds another layer to this process, being that it comes from anger. Quickly— how many of you have ever gone into a blind rage and never regretted it? I’m guessing very few of you. Anger is a dark room, and every shadow is an enemy to us. Not everyone wants to deal with it either, because hell, even scientist know that anger feels good. But feeling good doesn’t mean it’s right, and not enough people want to work past their anger enough to make a thoughtful decision. So, while you may hear someone on the street say, “I don’t get this whole, ‘Black Lives Matter,’ thing,” you’ve got a few options to analyze the situation and come to a few possible conclusions. Or, you could just call them a Nazi, and scratch that face-punch itch, despite the fact that it could lead to something worse. “How,” you ask?

2. Understand Your Actions May Have Consequences

           “But, I’m just punchin’ Nazis!” You say. “What could be bad about that?!” You’d be shocked.

           There’s a lot of ways things can go when your fist connects to anyone in the name of freedom. First, understand that your punch can lead to a Nazi punching someone else in retaliation. Not your fault? Doesn’t matter. The moment you justify violence for a purpose you deem “right,” another person somewhere is going to apply the logic to a different situation. Hell, this is how war works. Do you think that anyone we’ve ever been to war with has thought, “Man, I’m gonna get those freedom-loving American sissies! I love being a villain!” No, they’re just another army doing exactly what they’re told just like our army does. We’re so good at justifying our own violence that we’ll make movies about how slaughtering troops from other nations made our troops sad.

           But, that still makes Nazis wrong. Just because they don’t see themselves as doing anything wrong doesn’t mean they’re not. Is that confusing? You bet your ass it is, and I’m bringing it up because it’s a piece of knowledge you need to have once you see major Nazi-fueled acts of violence because of actions like the ones against Richard Spencer. And in this case, Nazis aren’t your only problems. The people on your side are going to drive you up the fucking wall.

           You know how I mentioned that you need to make sure you’re target it in the wrong before you attack them? Well, coupled now with this point, and you have the four individuals who tortured a kid on Facebook Live. It was the actions of four African-American teens (whose names I omit because I’ll always omit the names of actual fucking monsters), who tortured a disabled white teen (whose name I will also omit because he’s probably sick of hear about himself), all while screaming things like, “Fuck Donald Drumpf,” and “Fuck white people!” We look at those things, and we say “That’s not our movement, they’re outliers,” or, “That doesn’t count.” Understanding that people like this exist counts for a lot. People all across the United States have been on the Fuck Donald Drumpf Express, and I will continue to ride that train into the sunset. And then, we have tension between white people and people of color, which is also reasonably justified. But now you’ve taking on two justifiable causes, and someone dumber than you saw that and said, “yeah, I’ll just find some white kid and torture him, that’s the same thing.”

           It bears repeating that still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t throw that punch. It just means that, when you do, know the possibility of what it could lead to. It makes that punch worth a whole lot more, and that reminds me…

 3. Take Responsibility

           I am not telling you to out yourself. I am honestly hoping that the two individuals who decked Richard Spencer stay in the wind, just so a horde of Nazis doesn’t come barging down their front door with burning crosses in tow.

           So, what does it mean to take responsibility? To put it short, it means you have to own your actions. What does that mean? It means don’t be a wuss, you wuss. When you make the active effort to punch a person in their face, especially in the current political climate, you need to be ready to take on what that means for you. If you punch someone— a Nazi or otherwise— they could find you. You might not because to hide yourself as well as Richard Spencer’s assailants, and that means getting caught. You could go to jail, and if you’re either gay or a person of color, that means it’s going to suck a lot more for you than it would normally.

           We all like to think that it doesn’t end that way. It’s fun to think about winding ‘em up and clobbering Nazis until this bad time blows over. But, your story could end with you behind bars, only hearing about the good fight from the inside of a cell, and worst of all? You’ve only gotten to punch one measly Nazi.

               And you know what? It’s not all bad. People go to jail for worse, and the willingness to do something criminal doesn’t make you a bad person. You know who else has been to jail?

               That’s Martin Luther King Jr. Yes, that Martin Luther King Jr. Labelled as a criminal by the people of his time, and he helped usher a new wave of tolerance and understanding to future generations. The man would stand on a podium and talk about the future he saw, and how he would never lose sight of that. That’s called responsibility. The man knew full and well that his life was in danger everywhere he went, and that violence was waiting around the corner for him. He knew this, and fought anyway. And you know what happened? He died for it.

               No, you don’t have to be the next Martin Luther King Jr. Hell, you really shouldn’t want that for your own life. You don’t have to be in the same spotlight— looking around corner and watching your own back in the grocery store— but you do have to take responsibility for what your actions may bring. You know who else was incarcerated at some point in time? Georgia Congressman John Lewis.

               He’s still alive. He’s even on Twitter, tweeting about it! So you could die, you could get tossed in jail, or you could become Georgia’s next congressman. Either way, fighting for freedom has a price to pay, and you’d better be willing to pay it with a smile on your face.

               To summarize: Do you think any target you disagree with on any and all moral levels is a Nazi, or is probably a Nazi? If so, you’re not ready to start punching people. Do you think nothing bad will happen if you punch anybody, even a Nazi? If so, you’re not ready to start punching people. Do you think there’s no actual consequence or responsibility that comes with fighting for a cause? If so, you’re not ready to start punching people.

               But! Are you ready to accept that while you may disagree with someone, that doesn’t make them a Nazi, or even a racist, and that a punch isn’t a solution to everything? Do you know that there may be consequences to your actions, even if you’ve done nothing wrong? Do you accept the responsibility that comes with your actions, whether it’s jail time, assault towards you, and continue to speak up and speak out against intolerance and, yes, Nazis? If you answered yes to all of these, congratulations: You’re ready to punch yourself some goddamn Nazis.

               Here’s that video again for reference. Be safe!

(Brad Kincaide, 2017)