something i've been thinking about for the last few... forever.
shout out to the people who identify so strongly with, and/or find the most comfort in, the worst character(s) of any media that you're into. some of us find connection and similarities with the most terrible figures that canon has to offer. often, you're expected to identify most strongly with the good guy, or aspire to be like them (and not to say you don't, because i do sometimes). but that often doesn't happen for me, and i see more of myself in the evil impacting them.
not because i think i'm a bad person, and not because i aspire to be a flamboyant supervillain, but i often understand their feelings, their mindset, i understand how they got there, because i often went through a lot of the same things they did, even if only emotionally. it often goes beyond sheer appreciation for me (though i often find them more interesting from a narrative sense). and if i were in their world, i might become like them if things were even slightly different. if i didn't try to unlearn the fact that destruction is the only way to get what you want. catharsis is a powerful motivator.
i think it's important to embrace the "they're just like me" perspective when it comes to characters who aren't always "morally sound," and i do unequivocally include the "unsympathetic" ones. we're always going to find fictional characters we admire so long as art keeps being made, and sometimes admiration moves into "i identify with this character because of our background/personality/etc.", and sometimes these characters are the ones you're supposed to hate and root against... intentionally or not, many antagonists are very relatable (though often in unspoken ways).
none of this is to say that your taste in favorite characters means anything about you as a person, because it doesn't. how you treat others says all it needs to say about you as a person. i've seen this first-hand: people being surprised that i am friendly and compassionate (i try my best!) simply because i have a deep love for fictional guys who commit atrocities. yes, my worldly experiences, and the way i view them, as well as my fantastic taste draws me to fictional bad guys, but at the end of the day, i strive to be the best i can be every day. i aim to exude the kindness that i didn't always get when i practically begged for it. on the other hand, you could like the most sugary sweet, do-good fictional characters ever created (and good for you! no shame here!) and still be a nightmare to those around you.
i don't like the idea that you CANNOT like these characters, or identify with them, without condoning some sort of evil or being a bad person. they are people (or robots, or monsters, or whatever they are) who did bad things, whatever their reasons -- here's no inherence about it, and i think that belief has helped me in trying to understand them. i try to practice this with everyone i encounter. and along the way, i actually find that we aren't so different
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since my little dorm post has been getting a lot of notes(?!) I wanna explain why I feel I'd get sentenced I mean sorted into diasomnia ^^
the thing about twst dorms is that while there are superficial traits (ignihyde students being introverted, savanaclaw students being athletic, etc), those are more like stereotypes, and are not why you would be sorted into one of those dorms
the dark mirror reads your soul, not your hobbies. it's not a quotev quiz that'll ask you what your favorite color is. it's about you as a person: your values, beliefs, dreams, wants and needs, etc
like, epel felmier is a rough 'n tumble rural boy who swears and picks fights. but he belongs in pomefiore, because pomefiore isn't actually about looking pretty and doing fancy things, it's based on the fairest queen's tenacity. no, epel isn't proper or polite, but that's not what the dorm is about. he's a goal-oriented, determined, hard-working young man who embodies the spirit of persistence. that is why he's in pomefiore, and not savanaclaw or what have you
so when talking about diasomnia, I am never saying "oh, I think I'd be a really powerful mage" because that's not what the dorm is. that's just a stereotype. etc etc
(I feel like what we actually know about diasomnia itself is quite limited. at least compared to the other dorms. the thoughts I have of it could be completely non-canonical, but I have thoughts, nonetheless. so)
I said somewhere on this blog that I put a lot of value on things like politeness and civility and respect, and that I consider myself a polite person. I was raised to mind my manners and put aside my personal feelings for the sake of formality. I have never started a fight in my life, but I do get very upset when I feel as if I'm being disrespected. my family observes a lot of old traditions that are rather outdated
ex:
if you are invited to something but don't attend, you still send a gift
if you are invited to something, you invite the host to your future events
you always say thank you after receiving a gift
if you don't have anything nice to say, then you can complain about it at home. but you never, ever insult a host to their face. it's so uncouth and terrible it's like a deadly sin to me
things like that. lots of rules about hierarchy and respect. doing something disrespectful or impolite (especially without an apology) is enough to create schisms in my family. we hold grudges here
when I think of the thorn fairy's "nobility", this is the sort of thing that comes to mind. the high emphasis on the hierarchy of respect, on civility and graciousness. the value of tradition, and doing things the old-fashioned way (and the dislike, or fear, of change seems to be a common theme in diasomnia)
you could surely look at the things I just said and say, "well, you would also fit in at pomefiore" because, sure, I would! I can do the rules, I can respect the housewardens, but I lack the tenacity and the want to be something that makes the dorm what it is. diasomnia may have some similarities, but its reluctance to embrace change is what makes it so different
I, as a person, do not have dreams. most of my life has been spent just trying to get by whilst at the level of this hierarchy I was born into. I couldn't be in pomefiore because, unlike epel, I don't have big goals to work towards. I feel more comfortable being a follower than a leader, and I have a tendency of structuring my life around the lives of others rather than my hopes and dreams. I do not live boldly
and it doesn't bother me. I've found that there are benefits to staying in the shadows, and I'm comfortable with my socially nocturnal life
that is why I'm diasomnia, and not pomefiore
my favorite fairytale, which is not sleeping beauty, is very much about social structure. it's about a heroine's malicious compliance to that structure and how she manages to turn it in her favor
ironically, it also is about a spinning wheel
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pumpkin
richie jerimovich x afab!reader | 1.3k | part one of two | warnings: none
hello, i am (kind of) back! due to work/being prone to depressed slumps i have not written anything for a long while but (tmi alert) my last period was the worst i have ever experienced, and towards the end of it the only thing that made me feel better was the thought of literally just sitting on richie's lap like it got me through, then that thought spiralled into this, which will have a second part that will basically just be plotless fun! hopefully you enjoy this, and if you're still reading then i will use the opportunity to shout out @thecapricunt1616 she is the actual best so go check out the most amazing blog you'll ever see 🫶🏻💗🌼
🐻
You know when you can tell a storm is coming, but that doesn't make you feel any more calm about the storm? That was the feeling you'd been having for a few days. Your period tracker app had told you that you were due soon, but the pain had started a little earlier than usual. It was never a good sign. Some months your period came and went without a fuss, other months it was like torture, and evidently it was going to be one of those months.
You threw yourself into work to try and distract yourself for what was coming. It was perfect timing, the bear had officially opened and service was beyond elevated. You'd been a waitress in the Beef for a couple of years, but that mainly consisted of handing over hot dogs, wiping down the occasional table and rolling your eyes (affectionately) at yet another terrible joke.
Now you were in at the deep end. The restaurant was was different, the clientele were certainly different, your uniform was different, your attitude had to be different. No more sneaking out back with Richie for a quick cigarette, stealing his hoodies when it was cold, no more hanging around in the kitchen chatting with the chefs.
You focused on doing your job perfectly, trying to ignore the PMS burning inside you. It wasn't easy, but you managed to style it out.
Until the day came.
You woke up in more agony, barely able to drag yourself out of bed for some aspirin. You still hadn't officially gotten your period but you knew it wouldn't be long. In most other jobs you would have a Saturday off or be able to call in sick, but that wasn't an option. Everyone was needed, there were no backups, no subs to be drafted in at the last minute.
Most of the day was spent in bed, layers of blankets wrapped around your aching body, willing the pain away.
It didn't go anywhere, rather it intensified as the day went on.
Taking a shower and getting ready was agony, all you wanted was to get right back into bed and forget the world existed, not go into a busy restaurant competing for a Michelin fucking star.
When you arrived, Richie was giving his usual speech/pep talk. He gave you a nod which you returned before standing beside Sweeps and trying to take in what Richie was saying.
Before service, you were standing by your locker taking a moment to breathe deeply and attempt to focus yourself when your solitude was ended.
"Hey," Richie gave you a nod. "You okay?"
"Yeah, all good," You lied, looking over to him with as much of a smile as you could muster. "Thanks."
"Just making sure," Richie raised a brow, watching you for a moment. "I'll see you out there, let's do this."
For a brief moment, you thought you would be okay. It would just be more bad PMS then tomorrow when your period actually made an appearance you could sleep it off.
But life could never be so simple.
It was already hot in the restaurant, every table full, the lights and the music making you feel overwhelmed, the heat and noise every time you walked into the kitchen not helping.
It all happened at once, you were taking the mains to table 10, your mouth beginning to water, not from hunger but from bile rising in you throat.
You delivered the food as calmy as possible, being the perfect waitress before you made your way to the bathroom as quickly as possible.
You barely made it into a stall before you were on your knees hugging the bowl.
It could have been hours or minutes later, you weren't sure, but eventually you heard a knock on the door.
Slowly getting up, you took a breath, grabbing some tissue to wipe your mouth before opening the door.
To your immense surprise, Richie was standing on the other side, a serious look on his face. You braced yourself for a scolding, ready to snap back if needed.
Instead, he touched your arm gently, his expression softening.
"You should have told me if you weren't feeling well."
"What does it matter?" You sighed, glancing behind you and tossing the tissue in the bowl. "You can't lose a waitress tonight."
"I'm down one right now aren't I?" Richie raised a brow. "We'll survive for a minute. I wish I could send you home but since I can't..tell me what I can do to make life easier for you right now."
You looked at him for a moment, the feeling of his hand on your arm making you feel calmer.
"Right now I need a tampon and some pain relief," You told him, taking a breath. "There's some in my-"
"I got it," Richie was already halfway to the door, waving his hand. "If you could get out there and keep Fak outta trouble that'd be great thanks."
You stood for a moment before quickly fixing yourself up and heading back out to the restaurant. There was no sign of Richie, but you threw yourself back into work. You didn't feel any better, and the need for protection was growing, but you tried to power through.
Around 15 minutes later, Richie re-emerged on the restaurant floor and caught your eye. You made your way over to him, half expecting him to subtly pull a tampon from his shirt cuff.
"Everything you need is in the office, you got five minutes," Richie told you, giving you a small grin before striding across the floor. You watched him for a moment before heading into the kitchen, ignoring the noise and heading to the office.
What looked like half of the entire feminine care aisle of a pharmacy was laid across the desk, along with a couple of bars of chocolate and a bag of candy you had a fondness for. You took what you needed and headed to the bathroom, feeling a little more calm and unable to stop yourself smiling.
After service, you were feeling better, though more than ready to go home and sleep through most of the following day.
When everything was done and everyone was getting ready to leave, you noticed Richie hanging back despite being ready to go. When you were heading out, chocolate and candy safely in your handbag, (the feminie care aisle had been left in tbe office for future emergencies) Richie joined you.
"Are you not driving?" You asked, raising a brow as you passed the car park.
"Not tonight," Richie shrugged, looking ahead before glancing over to you. "I'm making sure you get home safe."
You rolled your eyes with a grin, linking your arm through the older man's.
"It's just my period Rich, I'm not gonna die."
"I know," Richie scoffed. "Just let me be a gentleman once in my life."
So, you were joined on your commute home, the train ride and walk to your apartment feeling much quicker. Before you knew it you were hanging up your coat and dropping your handbag on the table.
"Are you gonna be okay?" Richie asked, glancing around your small living room.
"Do you need anything else?"
"You can drop the gentleman act now, it's getting old," You teased, touching his arm.
"But thank you for everything."
"Least I could do," Richie nodded, looking back at you and holding your gaze for a moment as you gently squeezed his arm.
"Well I uh..I should let you..get some rest."
"How very thoughtful of you," You smiled, letting go of his arm. "Are you sure *you're* going to get some safe? I would offer you the couch but your lanky ass would probably snap it in half."
You laughed as Richie gave you the middle finger, giving him the same back.
"I'll see you Monday, god help me," Richie sighed, stepping a little closer to you. "Now go get some rest."
"Yes, sir," You grinned, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping back.
"Let yourself out before the neighbours start a rumor."
"You should be so lucky," Richie grinned giving you a wink before heading out of your apartment.
You went to the kitchen and got yourself a glass of water before heading to your bedroom, the smile never leaving your face.
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