#it just made me think about how ingrained into our brains and our society it is

[xiuxiuthumbsucker]

Men see other men as people, but they see women as Women, and their idea of a woman is a hole to shoot their fucking load in, and maybe use for some babies, and build this disgusting suburban life with. They see women as objects for sex, or romance, they don't think that men can socialise with women without there being ulterior fucking motives, thereby talking to an ugly girl makes you a pathetic loser. And on top of all that, they see women as irritable loudmouths without a single real thought and nothing good to say. Yet they get girlfriends, and wives, and act like they love them and truly see them as people, and live their capitalistic, hellish fucking lives with a Woman they hate until their stupid little life gets snuffed out in a care home full of old, middle class, white clones of themselves. Every moment of their miserable lives practically copied and fucking pasted.

[glorified-red]

i think purity culture is very damaging, especially to young girls. you can tell when a writer believes( is that the right way to say it?) in purity culture when they write characters discussing previous sexual relationships and the girl (usually) is seen as “gross”for being intimate with past boyfriends

on the other end , writers discreetly shame inexperienced/virgin readers by calling them prudish and boring . Like let me be a virgin in peace! I can go out to the club in a short skirt and not sleep with anyone

Ah, my dear, I whole-heartedly agree

CW: discussing the topic above

Purity culture is an unfortunate side-effect that we still face today, even as its source is slowly losing its power. My main thing with purity culture is that its so ingrained into us that we don't even realize its effect on us.

Most of the time, our unconscious biases stem from purity culture but we don't know, and if we dont know, we can't address it. Whether its from religious trauma or society as a whole, we all have some kind of reminants of purity culture in our brains whether we notice or not.

It is obvious when a creator, or person in general, is a victim of purity culture based on how they react to certain things or write certain things. And again, sometimes they dont know where that bias stems from. They can firmly believe their disgust with sexually experienced people is a choice of their own when it could stem from purity culture.

And it can take years, decades even, to break away from purity culture and realize that no, experienced people arent disgusting, it was a learned bias based on literally nothing. I'll call people out on their views and question why they believe it because I truly do enjoy learning, im not going to shut their view down, Im there to learn. Once i learn from theirs, I hope they can learn from my views as well and progress can be made.

And unfortunetly since our society is so intertwined with purity culture, its incredibly difficult to make any progress with it, but progress is happening.

I don't enjoy double standards for anyone, experience/unexperienced especially. Its fucking annoying. But i also hate how easy it is to call out the double standards for women when it comes to sex because the line between prude and whore is so small for them. I do genuinly think that purity culture effects women a substantial amount more when compared to men.

But men can experience sexual shame too, albeit less deadly, but i do like to talk about it. Theres always this assumption that men just know how to have sex and have it often, but they can be inexperienced too. They can suck at the first time too. They can experience extreme outcastedness from other men because masculinity is so heavily tied to sex (thanks purity culture).

I like to point out the struggles women face because it is so real. But i also like to point out struggles men face too because I feel like we often forget they exist. Women face so much in society and its debilitating, it truly is. Its extensive and runs deep.

Im not trying to disregard that by bringing up male struggles, i bring it up because their struggles also stem from purity culture and men uplift these struggles unknowingly because of society, its a viscious cycle.

Men create struggle so men struggle.

Men create struggle so women struggle.

We can't have a discussion about women's struggles (in this specific example with sexual assumptions, stereotypes, and purity culture. I am not talking about anything else) without acknowledging the role that men play in it and therefore the role that men's struggles play in it as well. Men literally create and uphold terribly demeaning standards for themselves until they break, and those standards are then applied to women, it sucks.

So yea, women should be allowed to go to the club and come home safe. They should be allowed to be a virgin by choice and not feel outcasted by everyone around them. They should be able to stay a virgin until they choose to consent to anything more.

And I agree, purity culture sucks and its so annoying and I get it anon, i feel you.

[majorbaby]

Please, I need to get this off my chest. Charles has always upset me... he is constantly talking about how much better he is than everyone and sometimes he says white supremacist things :/ and in a deep way because he isn’t just racist towards Klinger! He also thinks he’s better than Radar by calling him a bumpkin. It really annoys me when people ignore that part of him or try to write him as this misunderstood, lonely man

i'm iffy about commenting on how people write characters/ships they wanna write, especially when it comes to less popular ones like Charles because I generally believe in "don't like don't read" buuuut I also think it's so interesting to see what dominant trends emerge from fandom because fandom is a legitimate creative, communal space so we should note our observations and critiques in a respectful way. But anyway, my response is more about the general portrayal of the character and the flaws you've brought up because I think you raise an interesting point, I assume that you made it in good faith, and I’m very into discussions about race and racism in media but particularly wrt MASH. Cut to spare people who aren’t into this and CW for white supremacy and all -isms ingrained in it: 

Winchester is kept in check to some degree by being consistently positioned on the moral low ground, BJ and Hawkeye get the better of him constantly and whenever he makes a prolonged target out of anyone it’s usually Hawkeye and BJ which you could still call classist and how bad it lands depends on what you imagine Hawkeye and BJ’s backgrounds to be. They’re not implied to be from high society themselves but we don’t know much more than that. You’re not supposed to admire the nastier parts of Charles’ sensibilities and the show makes that overwhelmingly clear imo, he’s not a straight villain the way Frank was but he’s still an antagonist. Later on I think Rizzo gets the better of Charles a few times and that’s very satisfying to watch. There’s an interesting inversion of power dynamics when you look at Potter and Winchester. Charles looks down on Potter for his social background and Potter takes a lot of glee in reminding Charles that while he’s in the army he’s to be under Potter’s heel. Which, like, go ahead, eat each other. 

Winchester also gets a lot of moments that (imo, successfully) “humanize” him and it’s fair to feel uncomfortable about that if you perceive Winchester to be a white supremacist which, yeah, I can’t pretend I don’t ever see it – DOS has a remarkably smooth delivery that softens the blow but oof some of the things he says. In Mail Call 3, Margaret is concerned about not being good enough for Donald’s family and she opens up to Charles about it, he makes this comment about eugenics – I think he actually uses the phrase “maintain the integrity of the breed”. And while my brain knows that I’m supposed to empathize with Margaret here and not Charles, I can’t help it if my skin crawls. He calls her good breeding stock and tells her that it’s of utmost importance to the Winchesters and the Penobscotts that they “Maintain the characteristics of the bloodline” like that’s… that’s a white supremacist talking point. So be assured I see where you are coming from. And I have to talk about Klinger: “Klinger whatever happened to your frivolous, pet-like demeanor” yikes. Charles isn’t the first person to say racist things to Klinger, talking down to him for laughs becomes a frequently relied-upon gag in the later years, Potter and Margaret do it a few times. Hawkeye and BJ and even Radar have their iffy moments as well, but it sounds different coming from them than it does from Winchester, in part because he’s made other comments (like the one with Margaret) before that that suggest a much darker belief system – ‘suggest’ might be too weak a word.

We also get glimpses into how the social systems he subscribes to and benefits from actually oppress him too – which is true to life. But how much you care about that sort of thing will depend very much on how you feel about the character in general.

I don’t think Winchester gets a straight “redemption arc”, he’s just portrayed as being a  three-dimensional character, for better or for worse. And look, it sucks to have to think of your political enemies and threats to your existence as three-dimensional people – I know I don’t on a day-to-day basis. I think this was a choice on the part of the showrunners after seeing how things played out with Frank Burns, who some people believe should’ve also been more three-dimensional – you can’t really win with a character like that. I’ve seen people say they prefer Burns to Winchester and I’ve never understood that until this moment lol, because Charles being less cartoonish has allowed me to actually enjoy him. But now I see how one might be more comfortable with a character like Burns because he’s such a butt monkey and he doesn’t get a single redeeming moment that he doesn’t immediately ruin. I guess we know that Burns just ‘wants to be liked’ but I don’t think that garners a terrible amount of pity from anyone – any Frank Burns sympathizers in the audience?? I didn’t have the Burns-Winchester transition on my list of contributing factors to the show’s shift to the political center but you know what, that might actually be a thing: Burns being portrayed as a straight villain vs. Winchester (who is much more well off than Burns it would seem) being portrayed as multifaceted. I’m more or less neutral when it comes to these redeeming moments when they happen between Charles and Margaret, who has her own racism to deal with – and I can’t think of many other occasions aside from the one I described where he was overtly misogynistic to her – although the one example I did give was pretty egregious. Or Charles and Hawkeye or Charles and BJ because as I said about Margaret and them a few days ago, they’re closer to one another on the ladder. It’s really a class issue when it comes to them and that’s not something to be ignored (I don’t care at all for how Charles treats Radar and Rizzo who are both from non-urban, implied to be poor, backgrounds and who are of significantly lower rank in the army) but again, it really depends on how you feel about Hawkeye and BJ’s respective backgrounds and whether or not you think their pranks on him constitute appropriate retribution. I think if you are going to humanize a less-than-savoury character, a good way to do that is to show how their belief systems are to everyone’s detriment, including their own. Charles does go through this a few times: he realizes his discriminating against Honoria’s Italian husband will drive a wedge between him and his sister, similarly his self-imposed separation from the “unworthy” Hawkeye has kept them from perhaps being friends and he calls himself on it in Sons and Bowlers and finally he seems to really be at war with himself over his own lifestyle choices in Foreign Affairs. 

There is also a wrong way to do it – please miss me with his calling Klinger “Max” in Death Takes a Holiday, where the narrative wants me to accept that this is some grand gesture on Charles’ part after he’s been a racist twat to Klinger on multiple occasions and gleefully takes up any opportunity he can to remind him how inferior he thinks Klinger is. This same thing is actually done much more effectively in Sons and Bowlers (...”Hawkeye”) 1) Charles has actually spent the episode doing a lot more for Hawkeye than this single gesture at the end  2) I’m just gonna say it lol, Hawkeye is white so things land differently. Hawkeye is an equal, Klinger is "the help". I’m just pointing these things out, not trying to convince you of how you should or shouldn’t feel about Charles. Ultimately it’s up to each person to decide for themself what they will and won’t condone. I would suggest observing how that plays out when it comes to different characters. Are you uncomfortable with Charles’ notions on the family unit while at the same time being unbothered by BJ’s? Do you forgive the one-off joke from Hawkeye about BJ’s 16-year-old babysitter but get up in arms over Henry In Love? Do you have something to say about Aggie’s pursuit of BJ but nothing about Margaret’s full-fledged relationship with Frank (and btw why do we not keep the same energy for cheating men as we do for the women they are cheating with??).  I’ll end by saying what you let slide vs what you don’t is a deeply personal thing. Mulcahy hits me in a certain way because of the particular chip I have on my shoulder, but at the same time I don’t have any issue with other people’s enjoyment of him. At some point you will have to look the other way on something because no character is perfect and they all uphold some fucked up standard in one way or another. What is important imo is being able to identify what kind of messaging a story intends for you to accept and if you want to take it a step further, consider if there are any harmful ideas it might be perpetuating. 

[baya-ni]

The Queer Appeal of Sk8

Recently @mulberrymelancholy reblogged a post of mine with a truly galaxy brain take about how Sk8 “is a show made for queer fans” and generally how sports anime often depicts love and relationships in a way that’s more accessible and relatable to ace/arospec people than other mainstream media does.

Just, *chef’s kiss* fucking brilliant. I urge you to read their post here (note I’m referring to the reblog not the actual post).

And basically, it got me thinking about this concept of Sk8 as a Queer Show, and the kinds of stories and dynamics that tend to attract queer audiences in droves, regardless of whether its queerness is made explicit or hell, whether that queerness was intended.

And that’s what I’ve been pondering: What are the cues, markers, or coding, in Sk8 that set off the community’s collective gaydar?

I obviously can’t speak for the community. So here’s what aspects of the show intrigued me and what, for me, marks Sk8 as a Queer Show beyond the subtextual queer romances: a punk/alternative aesthetic, Found Family, Shadow as a drag persona, and The Hands.

1.) The Punk Aesthetic

All three of the above screenshots are taken from Ep 1, and every single one of them depicts background characters. They’re nameless and ultimately unimportant characters, yet each of them designed so distinctly and so unique from one another, one could mistake each of them for the main character(s) of another story.

Of what little I know about Punk subculture, I do know this: that the ethos of Punk is heavily built around a celebration of individuality and non-conformity. Sk8 seems to have incorporated this ethos into the very fabric its worldbuilding, and the aesthetics and culture upon which it takes inspiration appeals specifically to a queer audience.

I don’t really need to explain why Punk has such deep ties with the queer community. For decades, queer people have found community and acceptance within punk spaces, and punk ideology is something that I think is just ingrained in the queer consciousness as both lived experience and a survival tactic.

Therefore, a show that adopts punk aesthetics is, by association, already paying homage to Queer culture, intentional or not.

Queer fans notice this- like recognizes like.

2.) Found Family

This also needs little explanation.

Too often, queer individuals cannot rely on their “born into” families for support and acceptance. Too often, we are abused, neglected, and abandoned by those who we were taught would “always be there for us.”

And so, a universal experience for queer people has been redefining the meaning of Family, having to build our families from scratch, finding brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers in people with whom we have no blood relation, and forming communities tied together by shared lived experience rather than shared genetics.

And this idea of Found Family is also built into Sk8′s narrative.

Like, for example, the way that Reki promises MIYA that he and Langa will “never disappear from [his] sight,” filling the void that MIYA felt after his friends abandoned him.

And in the way that JOE becomes a paternal figure for Reki, teaching him ways to improve in skateboarding, and ensuring that Reki doesn’t self isolate when he’s feeling insecure.

And in the whole Ep 6 business with Hiromi acting as babysitter to the Gang.

Hell, even ADAM (derogatory) is associated with this trope. Abused as a child, he finds solace in an underground skateboarding community and culture he helped create- his own found family (or some powertrippy version of it anyway).

Again, queer fans see themselves depicted in the show, but this time in the way that the show gives importance to Found Family relationships between its characters.

3.) Shadow and Drag

This is one that’s more of an association that I personally made. But I was intrigued by the way that Hiromi adopts his SHADOW persona. He wears SHADOW like a mask, and adopts a personality seemingly so opposite to his day-to-day behavior.

Further, the theatricality and general “gender fuckery” of his SHADOW persona, to me, just seemed so similar to a the characteristics of a drag persona (I don’t know a whole lot about drag but enough that I’m drawing superficial similarities).

There’s also this aspect of a “double life” that he, and actually all the other adult characters of the show, have to adopt, which is a way of living that I’m sure a lot of queer viewers see themselves reflected in.

4.) The Hands

Ohhhh the Hands.

One of the things I noticed very early on is the way the show constantly draws our attention to Reki’s hands, which I thought was a little strange for an anime about skating. After all, skating doesn’t really involve the hands, or at least the show doesn’t really draw attention to hands within the context of skating.

I count 3 times so far between Eps 1-9 in which hands are the focus of the frame.

First, when Reki teaches Langa how to fist pump after Langa lands his first ollie, second, when Reki and Langa make their Promise, and finally, when Langa saves Reki from falling off his board.

And you know what they say, twice is a coincidence but thrice is a motif (no one else actually says this I think I’m the only one who says this lol).

I’m not really certain why hands seem to be such a shared fixation among queer people (at least among those I interact with). All I know is that gay people are just fucking obsessed with them.

I have a Theory as to why, and at this point I’d love for other people to chime in and “compare notes” if you will, but I think it basically has to do with repression. And in the same way that queer people have had to redefine the meaning of family, we’ve also had to redefine intimacy.

Being overtly physically affectionate with someone of the same sex, even if they’re your significant other, or often specifically BECAUSE they’re your significant other, can still be dangerous, even now despite the “progression” of society. Queer people know this, this vigilant surveillance of our environment and ourselves, always asking ourselves, “Am I safe enough to be myself?”

Already, Western culture is pretty touch-averse. That is, it’s considered taboo to touch someone unless they’re a family member or a romantic partner. And to touch a person of the same sex in any way that could be misconstrued as romantic (which is most things tbh) is a big no no.

There’s just A Lot to unpack there.

But basically I think that queer people, by necessity, have had to learn to romanticize mundane or unconventional ways of being physically intimate so that we can continue to be romantic with one another without “being caught” so to speak.

Kissing and hugging is too obvious. But a handshake that lingers for just a second too long is much more likely to go unnoticed, braiding someone’s hair can easily be explained away as just lending a helping hand, touching palms to “compare hand sizes” is just good fun.

But for queer people, these brief and seemingly insignificant touches hold greater meaning, because it’s all we are allowed, and all we allow ourselves, to exchange with others.

God, I’ve gone off and rambled again. What’s my point? Basically that the way the show draws attention to Reki’s hands, and specifically how they’re so often framed with Langa’s hands, is one of the major reasons why I clocked Sk8 as a Queer. It’s just something that resonated with me and my own experience of queerness, and I know that I’m not the only one who noticed either.

~

So in conclusion, uhhhh yeah Sk8 the Infinity is just a super gay show, and it’s not even because of the homo-romantic subtext (that at this point is really just Text).

Because what’s important to understand is that Queerness isn’t just about same-sex romance.

Queer Love isn’t just shared between wives/girlfriends, husbands/boyfriends, and all their in-betweens. Queer Love can be two best friends who come out together, queer siblings who rely and support one another, a gay teacher who helps guide one of their questioning students, a queer community pitching in to help a struggling member.

And that all ties with another important thing to consider, that what we refer to as the “queer experience” or “queer culture” isn’t universal. In fact, it wrongly lumps together the unique experiences and struggles of queer BIPOC all under one umbrella that’s primary White and middle class.

So I think what drives a lot of my frustration about labeling a show like Sk8 as Queerbait is this very issue of considering queerness and queer representation within such narrow standards, and mandating that a show must pass a certain threshold of explicit queerness to be considered good representation.

I get that someone might only feel represented by an indisputable canonization of a same-sex couple. That’s fine. But labeling Sk8 as Queerbait for that reason alone ignores the vast array of other queer experiences.

The aspects of Sk8 that resonate most deeply with my own experiences of queerness is in the way that Reki and Langa share intimacy through skating (intricate rituals heyo). For me, them officially getting together ultimately doesn’t matter- I’ll consider Sk8 a Queer show regardless.

Similarly, @mulberrymelancholy​ finds ace/arospec representation in that very absence of an on-screen kiss. A bisexual man might find representation in Reki, not because he enters a canon relationship, but in the depiction of Reki’s coming of age, growing up and navigating adolescent relationships. A non-binary person might feel represented through CHERRY’s androgyny.

That’s the thing, I don’t know how this show will resonate with other members of the queer community, and it’d be wrong to make a judgement on Sk8′s queer representation based on my experiences alone.

That being said, Straight people definitely don’t get to judge Sk8 as Queerbait. Y’all can watch and enjoy the show, we WANT you to enjoy these kinds of shows, and we want you to share these shows and contribute to the normalization and celebration of these kinds of narratives.

But understand that you don’t have a right to tell us whether or not Sk8 has good or bad queer representation.

And even members of the queer community are on thin ice. Your experience of queerness is not universal. Listen to the other members of your community, and respect that what you might find lacking in this show may be the exact representation that someone else needs.

[luxekook]

ego | jjk | harry potter au

⇥ pairing: gryffindor jeongukk x hufflepuff reader

⇥ genre: harry potter AU, smut, fluff, angst

⇥ summary: in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs 

⇥ warnings: 18+, dirty talk, light smut, cursing

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

The wind whirled around me as I careened towards the glistening goal posts, imagining the opposing team’s Keeper darting back and forth in hopes of blocking the Quaffle that was currently tucked under my arm. I feigned left and the imaginary keeper followed suit. I threw right – Quaffle sailing through the rightmost gold hoop.

I smiled and dove down past the posts to catch up with my own throw. Even though it was still the first week of the new term, I was determined to prove my newly acquired captain-status. Hufflepuff hadn’t had a female captain in ages; and, paired with that, I was only a 6th year.

Luckily, I had a strong team behind me with mostly returning players who I knew would fiercely support me. Us Puffs stuck together. It was inherently in our blood to be loyal as hell to our own, and I thanked Merlin for that every day since receiving the captain’s badge.

As soon as I had hopped on the Hogwarts’ Express a few days prior, I had immediately been swept up in a giant bear hug by Jeong Yunho, one of the Hufflepuff beaters.

“Oh, captain! My captain!” he had dramatically cried, spinning me around. His Dead Poet’s Society reference was not lost on me since I had a muggle parent with excellent taste in movies. Similar reactions from the rest of the team followed suit over the course of the train ride and the Welcoming Feast.

Trials for our only open position of Seeker would take place this weekend with practices immediately starting Monday. We had high hopes for redemption this season after being crushed by Slytherin’s team of goons early on in the Cup tournament.

The Slytherin team’s head hooligan Kang Dokyun led his team with a nasty blend of intimidation and violent tactics. I was convinced that Slytherin didn’t even hold trials and that they just lined up the Slytherin boys, picking out the biggest of the lot. Basically, Slytherin was strong, but slow and slightly uncoordinated. We could beat them by exploiting their weaknesses – of that I was certain.

Ravenclaw would be a bit harder to conquer. Their team played with a level of elegance and intelligence that was so utterly Ravenclaw that even us Puffs got annoyed. Ravenclaw’s captain Yoon Jisoo constructed tactical plays so tricky that she was already recruited to play for Puddlemore next year. Their team was smart, but not completely unbeatable. The Ravenclaws sometimes got so ingrained in their methodical maneuvers that they failed to notice some of their opponents’ counterattacks. That was how they lost the Cup last term to Gryffindor.

Gryffindor was our toughest competition. Winning the Cup last term, the Gryffindor team was a nauseatingly perfect balance between brains and brawn. Their captain Jeon Jeongguk, now a 7th year, was renowned for his tyrannical practice regime that he put his team through. We’d only played Gryffindor once in the regular season last year, and we had held our own for a while until we started getting tired and they didn’t. Seems like Jeongguk knew his shit when it came to conditioning. Something that I was determined to emulate with my own team.

Jeongguk was also the best damn Keeper that Hogwarts had seen in a long time, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the looks of the professional Quidditch scouts that avidly attended his matches. He was way bigger than a typical Keeper – extremely tall with broad shoulders and giant paws for hands. However, the only thing bigger than his stature and talent was his fucking ego.

He carried himself like he was the king of the school, and, unfortunately, most people treated him like it. Girls especially flocked to him – mainly for two reasons: 1) Jeongguk was undoubtedly hot, and 2) he held the promise of a rich future. Personally, I cared for neither of those traits considering his appalling personality and pride.

That damned ego would be his downfall this season. I would make sure of it, I thought as I circled around the stadium and then landed to get a drink.

I was definitely above average on the Quidditch talent scale. Holding the current school record for most assists in a season, I considered myself the glue of the Hufflepuff team – a fact that our Head of House obviously agreed with. However, no one really talked about the glue of a team, they talked about the flashy glitter and the gold stars. I was fine with that. Being the underdog was nothing new to a Hufflepuff, and I planned on using that to our advantage this season. Who said Puffs couldn’t be a little devious?

I smirked to myself as I grabbed my broom, ready to get back to practicing. This would be our fucking year.

“Hey,” a deceptively sweet voice rang out from above me, “You mind sharing the pitch? I need to practice.”

My mood soured. I knew who that was. Kicking off the ground, I flew to face him, “Sure thing, Jeon, just stay out of my way.”

It was almost as if I’d slapped him across the face, “Excuse me?” he choked out, “Do I know you?”

Unbelievable. Jeongguk’s head was evidently so far up his own ass he couldn’t recognize opponents he’d been playing for years. “I guess not,” I countered. And with a flick of my ponytail, I took off towards the opposite end of the pitch.

Unfortunately, he followed, “Are you a Gryffindor? If so, you should come to tryouts tomorrow. You’re pretty fast and we need a new Chaser.”

“Not a Gryffindor,” I called out, dipping low to the ground to scoop up my old practice Quaffle, “But I am a Chaser.”

Jeongguk was still tailing me, and I pulled to a stop to face him, “I thought you had to practice?”

He mirrored my position and crossed his arms. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from noticing how his biceps flexed and how a hint of his famed phoenix tattoo curled up his neck. Merlin, even I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck. The recent summer months seemed to have blessed his skin with a glowing tan that accentuated the warmth of his dark eyes. It also seemed like he forgot what a haircut was as I watched the wind tousle his slightly curling hair.

“I do,” his eyes were narrowed as he cleared his throat, “I just have to make sure you’re not spying for another team.”

All thoughts of him being fine flew out the Owlery as I scowled. I refused to be intimidated by some arrogant asshole, “Did you not hear me when I said to stay on the opposite end of the pitch, Jeon? What kind of self-respecting spy would ask that?”

“You’re a Slytherin,” Jeongguk declared, his tone too sure for my liking.

He was really aggravating me now, and it took a lot for a Puff to get pissed off, “So, just because I have a semblance of a backbone, I’m a Slytherin? You need to brush up on your House knowledge.”

He was quiet, his expression contemplative, his jaw clenched. His eyes were scanning me with an intensity I was not sure I liked. And then he did something I liked even less: “I propose a game,” his mouth twisted upwards in a smirk, “You say you’re a Chaser?”

I gave a slight tilt of my chin in affirmation. He resumed, “Well, then you must know I’m a Keeper.” He paused, grinning wickedly, waiting for me to react to the double entendre. Eyebrows raised at my pointed silence, he continued, “And we both need to practice… So how ‘bout you try to score on me and for every shot I block you have to answer one of my questions.”

This motherfucker right here. I summoned my inner Helga to give me the strength to deal with this Gryffindor prick, “Say I was to agree to this, what would I get if I score on you?”

The laugh I got in response made all thoughts of remaining a kind and patient Puff evaporate faster than a weak Patronus.

He was still laughing when he noticed I looked ready to Avada him wandless, “Okay, okay. What do you want if you score?” He barely got the words out in between chuckles.

“To come to a Gryffindor practice.”

That shut him up real fast, “No fucking way. I don’t need you distracting my players.”

My nose crinkled, “Distracting? I would just be sitting in the stands, you prick.”

His jaw ticked as he rolled his eyes, “You could be on the furthest corner of the pitch and you’d still distract them, jagi.”

“Don’t call me that. And, pray tell, why I would distract them?” Our brooms were now practically touching as we had instinctively moved closer to one another. I could see the sweat glistening on his brow and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. Merlin, he was potent.

“Because,” Jeongguk paused, acting like this was the most obvious answer in the world, “You’re hot.”

I blinked. And blinked again, “Are you serious?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, don’t answer that, Jeon,” I brushed right over his attempt to answer my rhetorical question, “So, do we have a deal or not? If you’re the esteemed Keeper that you clearly think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to block all my shots, should it?”

My words echoed around us. He looked conflicted, but I knew his ego would not let my challenge go, “Deal. Five shots from the penalty mark.”

He flew towards the goal posts, “Looking forward to getting my questions answered, love,” he bellowed back at me.

I mentally flipped him off as I took off after him, clutching my Quaffle.

Sending out a plea to Merlin, Helga and everyone in between, I pulled to a stop at the penalty mark and pondered how I wanted to play this. He obviously thought he would save all five attempts. I spared him a glance and glower as I notice he was slouching on his broom with a lazy smirk, clearly not taking me as a serious threat.

Fine, I would just have to hustle him. He was asking for it at this point.

I got into formation. As much as it would pain me to mess up this shot on purpose, I knew that I had to in order to make my plan work.

Taking off towards the posts, my movement caused Jeongguk to finally move into a somewhat defensive position. I feigned right, doing so in a way too obvious manner. Hurling the Quaffle towards the top hoop, I watched expectantly as he deflected it with just a slight flick of his hand.

“Come on,” Jeongguk laughed, “You can do better than that, jagi.” He flew over to me and when I stretched to take back the Quaffle he now held in his hand, he shifted it out of reach, “Uh-uh, nope. It’s question time. What’s your name?”

How predictable. “It’s (y/n). Now give me the Quaffle.”

“Last name?” Jeongguk kept the Quaffle out of my hands.

“That’s a separate question, Jeon. You never specified that I give you my full name.” It was my turn to smirk as he threw the Quaffle back at me and headed back to the posts mumbling about loopholes and how I must’ve been a Ravenclaw.

I lined back up for the second shot. I had to make this one a little bit better than the last to show that I was trying, but not too much better that he’d be prepared for my final shots.

I ducked down, twisting around to head towards the right post with my full focus on the hoop. I launched the Quaffle. Jeongguk swooped up to catch it in a way that was entirely too elaborate for such a lame throw. He was clearly showing off – an action that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the meaning behind.

Jeongguk made his way over to me, grinning, “Second question, jagi. Full name, please.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” I muttered, eyes scanning his face for signs of recognition and hands grabbing the Quaffle away from him.

He looked puzzled, “(y/l/n)? Why does that sound so familiar?”

Before he could think on it further, I pushed his shoulder, “Back to the posts. You got your answer.”

Well, I had attempted to push his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch at my shove. His eyes darted to where my hand now laid on his chest. I removed it faster than a Wronski Feint, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up my arm.

Our eyes connected and his were blazing as his mouth crept into a slow smile, “Like your hands on me.” Before I could formulate a reply, he flew off and I resolved that I would make this next shot as if my life depended on it.

We faced each other. I shifted the Quaffle from hand to hand and took off towards him. I gave him no tells, no feints, nothing. This seemed to throw him off for a split second, but that second was all I needed to send the Quaffle sailing through the bottom hoop.

“What the fuck was that?” Jeongguk yelled as he got all up in my face.

I bit back a smile. “Beginner’s luck?” I quipped, loving how his face had darkened perceptibly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can pick up some more tips at your practice.”

Unable to keep my grin in check any longer, I smile widely as he lets out a stream of curses that would make even my old crotchety aunt blush.

We resumed our positions. This time he seemed more alert and watchful. He was getting wary of me, despite my claim that it was just luck. Maybe he knew better after all…

“That won’t happen again, (y/n). Don’t get used to it!” he shouted from the posts.

…Or not.

I took off. Luck be damned. I zigzagged back and forth towards him. Throwing the Quaffle up in the air, I quickly rolled off my broom, sharply grabbing its end and swinging it up to hit the Quaffle mid-air through the center goalpost. A perfectly executed Finbourgh Flick. Regaining my seat on my broom I sailed back to the penalty line and turned back to face Jeongguk.

He looked utterly gobsmacked, “Beginner’s luck? Beginner’s fucking luck? Who the fuck are you?”

I grinned victoriously at his wounded ego, “You know my name, Jeon. Now you can use it at two practices.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n)… fucking hell,  you’re the new Hufflepuff captain,” he gawked at me.

“Bingo, Gryff,” I laughed, “Took you long enough.”

“Why did I think you were a bloke? I would have remembered such a—” he cut himself off, “You hustled me! There is no way I’m letting you into my practices now.”

We were nose to nose now as I responded, “A deal’s a deal. I thought you Gryffindors were all about honor.”

His face was thunderous, “And I thought you Hufflepuffs were all about fairness.”

“We are,” I said plainly, “We just don’t take lightly to intimidation. Now come on, we’ve got one round left.”

A range of emotions moved across his face to settle in a heated look that I couldn’t quite decipher, “Fine, jagi,” his molten gaze darted to my mouth, “Give it your best shot.”

Swallowing hard, I shook my head, trying to clear my brain of entirely too inappropriate thoughts of me and Jeongguk. As much as I attempted to refocus on making my final shot, my attention wasn’t fully there.

And I fucked it up. Jeongguk dove to catch my throw mid-air, and he sped towards me triumphantly, “Slipping already? What was that?”

I blushed. He noticed.

“Come on,” he said, “I need a drink and then you need to answer my last question.”

I followed him to the ground, cursing my treacherous body for reacting so obviously. My subconscious battled:

‘He’s a player!’ the imaginary Dumbledore on my right shoulder boomed.

‘Kiss him. Now!’ hissed the fictitious Voldemort from the other side.

However, all thoughts evacuated my brain at the sight of Jeongguk peeling off his shirt and taking a long sip from his water bottle. My traitorous eyes flew over his torso. I took in his defined abs, his chiseled arms and his fucking beautiful phoenix tattoo that spanned the entirety of his left shoulder, left upper back, and a portion of his neck.

Then I noticed his eyes were watching me right back. And they were all to amused to be innocent… “Are you seducing me?”

He spit out his mouthful of water, laughing, “Why? Is this working for you?”

My eyes now resembled slits as I glared at him, “Is that your last question?”

“No!” His response came so fast I jolted back on impulse, “No, it’s not…”

He trailed off as he prowled towards me. I stepped back. He kept coming. I stepped back further.

“Why are you running, jagi?” his words were too soft and too intense for my liking. I took another step back and bumped up against the stands. His grin in response was predatory as he caged me in between the stands and his body, his arms on either side of my head.

“Nowhere to run now, little Hufflepuff…” he dragged a finger along the hollows of my throat. He definitely felt the rapid pounding of my pulse, his eyes darkening to the point that they almost seemed black.

I glared defiantly at him, refusing to be daunted by his size or his words. He smirked, “Your last question: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”

I stopped breathing. He waited, a look of uncertainty flickered on his face so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it.

That little flare of vulnerability – that should not have been as appealing to me as it was – helped me to regain some of my bearings, “And how much do you want to kiss me? I need a scale of reference.”

He smiled crookedly as he leaned in even further, lips brushing against me as he whispered into my neck, “So fucking bad.”

His tongue darted across my skin as he dragged it up towards my ear. Biting it softly, he murmured, “Well?”

Fuck it all.

My hands latched onto his shoulders and his head snapped up. Raising to my tiptoes, I kissed him. He let out a rough groan, sounding like I was killing him. His hands slid down my body to squeeze my ass before hoisting me up. My legs circled his lean hips as his teeth caught my bottom lip in a faint bite. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. His hips pressed into mine, drawing a moan from my lips. He smiled against my mouth.

I nipped his lip now in retribution, but it seemed to only urge him on. One hand came up to remove my hair-tie, flinging it over his shoulder. I made a noise of protest, but he just kissed me harder.

How the fuck was he holding me up with one hand?

I prided myself on being a pretty thick bitch, and he was over here acting like I weighed nothing. My fingernails slid down his back, raking over the hard muscles and feeling how they flexed and shifted under my touch.

I don’t know how long we spent making out against the stands, but soon enough we heard voices coming from around the corner. Ripping my mouth away from his, I jumped out of his embrace, landing on shaky legs.

His arm wrapped around my waist as he steadies me. He was breathing just as hard as me and I could feel his heartbeat racing. I tugged away from him to retrieve my hair-tie from the ground and put my now wild hair back into its ponytail.

I could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on me all the while. I looked at him. His lips were swollen, his hair was a disheveled mess, his neck was displaying a rather nice hickey that I was sure was mirrored several times over on my own neck. A rare feeling of pride shot through me, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I shook my head and placed a finger over his lips.

“I’ll see you at your practice, Jeon.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed my broom and walked off.

As I strode away, I heard him grumbling under his breath: “Everybody warns you about the Slytherins. Nobody fucking warns you about the Hufflepuffs. Fucking hell…”

I smiled all the way back to the Common Room.

[taeslovehandles]

I never meant to target you and I'm sorry you felt that way. You properly tag everything and adhere to the "don't like, don't read" rule. I don't follow you nor you follow, because we simply don't vibe together and that's okay.

But there are posts that are on the more "innocent" side that do represent fat people as a joke and it's like they don't even realize it because it's something so well ingrained in our fatphobic society.

For example, all the characters are having fun except the fat one or referring to someone as "twice his size" (like... If they want to say he's huge, they should just say it, not imply that there's a "right size" for someone to be).

I don't think authors should censor themselves, just acknowledge the role they play in how fat characters are perceived by the community they write for.

-🍓

First of all, since you obviously haven’t blocked me, you could have come to me via direct message. This is not a topic that needs to be brought out into the public eye even more than it already is. I have worked with anons before, I would have been the last person to reveal who you are. You could have made a trash account to message me in dm’s, but since you didn’t, I will reply to you here.

I want to make one thing clear. This will be my last response on the topic. If you do not like me as a member of the community please use the block button and filter me out, because I will stay. I have many friends here, and know that many people enjoy my content. Just because a small handful of people don’t appreciate dark themes in fiction, the contents of which they can easily protect themselves from, won’t make me falter.

Now, I want to debunk this ask because your ‘apology’ actually made me very upset.

I know you don’t mean it when you say you are sorry because you’re backpedaling on what you’ve told your friends and it really rubs me the wrong way. You could have owned up to your mistakes and apologized sincerely like others had but you continue to play victim and excuse your behaviour with tales of your own trauma, projecting your own insecurities onto my blog and thus hating me.

I know for a fact that you despise my blog, especially my writing, because you do not like how “obviously skinny people write about weight gain.”

Honey.

I couldn’t be any further from skinny.

I don’t mind sharing my actual weight, which has actually gotten worse due to COVID. I weigh 490lbs. I am morbidly obese. I have always been morbidly obese. For you to come and be “nitpicky” about a genre you don’t even enjoy? Why are you even reading my fics then?

The way I write about obese people, their struggles with literally everything… that comes from real life experience. I write this to share embarrassing and exhausting daily life tasks I personally struggle with.

A skinny person would never write some of the stuff I do, because they simply don’t know. They don’t know how scary it is to hear the line “we are going to a restaurant.” They don’t know how scary it is to go into that new restaurant, scan the chairs and think “Shit, am I gonna fit? Is the chair gonna creak? Is there enough space for the next table? What if I won’t fit?” A thin person doesn’t have to think this way.

And, let me tell you something else. Yes, I agree. The world is fatphobic.

In one of my recent posts I talked about movies and shows where they make fun of fat people because I hate it. Because it is REAL LIFE. And I am all for the body positivity movement and I do believe that all bodies are beautiful, because they are.

You do not know me personally.

And that leads to my next point. If you personally have issues with the phrase “twice my size”, then that is on you. And guess what? I cannot count how often I’ve heard lines like that my whole life.

“Oh wow two people would fit in one of your pant legs.”

“Wow, you are so fat, I could use your pants as a tent.”

So trust me, I know. I KNOW. But anon, this is the important part for me. Everyone processes trauma differently.

Inked ch3? Or literally any story I have written with a fat character being forced, insulted and talked down to like they’re dumb? That’s what I have been living with my entire life. Most of these stories, some obviously more extreme than how I had experienced them since it’s fiction, have been recordings of trauma I have went through.

My own dad force fed me. Forced me to eat food and gain weight. My first boyfriend was a feeder that manipulated me into gaining more weight and took measurements. Called me pig names and abused me. Hit me, manipulated me into having s** with him and then let all of his fantasies out on me.

I don’t make this shit up. I hate my brain for being so twisted now, that I actually find it hot and arousing. It’s weird. I know, but that’s how it is.

I’ve also never had friends in school. Not even kindergarten. Why? Because my “fat incased body could spread like a virus.” I was being bullied like JK was in Pondus.

I had hot water thrown at me, got glue put on my seats and hair, had my hair ripped out and even got a cigarette burn mark on my arm. Just because I was fat. Just because of how my body was shaped.

I was strangled and locked into a small locker for a night. I was almost killed for running away from my abusive dad from his car and had to listen to things like, “You are going to die when you are 30. No one will ever love you and your body.” That I have trust issues now and am paranoid about everything and everyone.

Those dark stories. I use those dark stories to try to work through my trauma. And yes, it may be absurd to you. It may disgust you, what I write. But sadly, most of it? Most of it really happened to me. To me and other people I’ve talked to as a friend or seen online. Most of what I write will be dark because the human species is made up of terrible creatures.

Fatphobia is an important topic, and I am happy the media has been slowly getting better about it, that people accept us more. But my writing is how I work with my trauma. If I can make fictional characters feel the same things I had to feel, that makes me feel better.

And I’m not hurting anyone with it. So how is it wrong?

I do not support any of this behaviour in real life. I never bullied anyone, I always try to speak up for my friends and tell people if they are being assholes. Because I hate them too and it makes me angry when good people get shit when they do nothing but breathe.

And how @pudgecuddles already said. I don't need you to advocate for body positivity and all that shit when you go out of your way to bully someone that may have experienced the same shit you have. I do not know you or what you went through in your life, but I am sorry. I’m sorry you feel like my stories aren’t okay to write, but this is how I work on my trauma and I need you to respect that.

I’ve said this before. We don’t have to be friends, or even talk to each other.

Just be neutral.

Block me. Filter me out. Pretend I don't exist. But, whatever you do, don’t make posts that call me out while making it obvious you’re talking about me, with the cover that you are advocating against fatphobia. That’s got a name. Cyber-bullying.

Have you hurt me with those posts? Yes you have, but I’ve never wanted bad blood. As you may have noticed, it wasn’t me that made a post. It was my good friend. Because I told her how exhausting it was and she knew about the posts back then.

I have a good idea of who you are.

I remember you.

But I kept my mouth shut. Because this community is my home and the last thing I wanted was for the people who like both of our types of content to feel like they have to choose sides.

In the end, we all rub one out to fat gay boys in a band. No user is better than the rest, and if there are topics you do not enjoy, there is a button for it. No need to drag everyone into it with posts. It’s exhausting and irritating.

Now, I do not accept your apology because you lied to me and I also do not feel like you meant it sincerely knowing what I know now after reading some dm’s. But I also won’t sit here and start shit.

This is my last post about this.

Please block me and enjoy the content you do like.

Nonetheless, I hope you have a nice day and a lovely weekend. Whatever you are experiencing or going through, I hope it gets better. Because even if you hate me personally for creating content you do not support, I’d say that I am a really friendly and nice person.

I do not believe that anyone deserves to be bullied like that and talked down in official posts. It happened before with a friend of mine and you probably remember that I did speak up about it.... But apparently no one learned from it. I really hope this time you do.

Insult me and shit talk me all you want in dm’s, but don’t do it publicly. No one deserves that kind of hate or passive aggressiveness. No one. Since you sound like someone that went through a lot of shit too, you should know better. You should know how it feels to be bullied and what damage it can cause.

I’m already depressed enough and I have bad lows. Let me write my erotica and just enjoy it? That’s all I want? I am a part of this community just like you were. You leaving because you did not like my content, is not my problem. If you cannot block me or ignore it and go so far as to read them and then rant about them negatively, what do you want me to do? I won’t leave the scene just because you don’t like me.

So, you either trash talk me in dm’s from now on so that I do not see it, or you block me. The latter of which would be the more mature thing to do. The more humane thing to do. Because talking behind someone’s back is just as bad.

Again, I don’t know why you felt like it was necessary to send me an ask with lies in it when I got screenshot proof of something else you have said/issues with, so don’t backpedal on me. I know Hun. I know already.

At least stick to what you said and actually apologize or, if you can’t, just block me.

But this ask? This ask just upset me.

Have a nice day.

p.s: The fact that this even needs to be talked about is so absurd and ridiculous to me. The whole thing is a petty party in my eyes that isn't even worth anyone's time? Do people on here really not have any other issues right now or am I in the wrong movie?

[ladymaigrey]

In search of a true filter

This is a personal and rambling thought-dump. Enter at your own peril. 

TL:DR my daughter might have ADHD. And, maybe, so do I? The meaning of this label in our lives is a choice for me to make. The choice itself doesn’t scare me nearly as much as the concept that it is a choice.

I am supposed to be writing at the moment, but my brain cannot settle down into the comforting niche of torture and angst that is Matt Murdock's brain. Or, rather, maybe, it's no longer comforting? (why it ever was/can be - is NOT the question I am going to be dissecting here!)

The fact that perceptions change, though, is something that has been occupying me in the past few days, in a rather obsessive and, yep, torturous way.

See, late last week, a counsellor who has been working with my 7yo daughter to help her with some anxieties and difficulties making friends, told me that I might consider having her assessed for ADHD, because some of her behaviors were consistent with that syndrome, as it presented in girls (which is very different to the way it normally presents in boys, i.e. hyperactivity is not necessarily a feature at all). The counsellor made the comment almost offhandedly: it wasn't a big deal. If she had ADHD, it was probably on the milder end of the spectrum as it didn't drastically impact her school work and, really, in terms of the counselling work, nothing would change because counsellors deal with the presentation as is and do what works with that particular individual regardless of what label might be attached.

Which is great, as far as my daughter's counselling journey is concerned.

But it threw me for a loop, and out of kilter, and totally twisted my knickers (and what other aphorism can I throw into this?) It sent me down a whirlwind of anxiety-ridden thoughts and questions. See, after just a little research, it became bleeding obvious that, yes, my daughter certainly has some of the behaviors, but so do I. And I always had!

And, on one hand, knowing that there is a possible neurological explanation for the troubles I had as a child and still have as an adult (including my pervasive anxiety) - did spark an "ah huh!" moment, and a feeling of vindication. On the other hand - that punitive self-loathing-but-maybe-true "other" hand - what I always considered to be unique and subversively delightful about my personality - things that I took pride in even if they often triggered a condemnation (or, at least, dismissal) from the rest of the society - well, they weren't things to revel in. They were signs of "brokenness".

Yes, that's a big part of the fight that neuro-diverse community has had: to NOT be considered "broken", to stay proud of who they are and their differences and their strengths, to demand a change in the society that functions with and for neurotypicals only while dismissing the inconveniently-different.

Still, I see that most people simply don't have enough self-insight to identify their own emotions and thoughts, let alone admit to themselves their own ingrained prejudices, and be able to modulate their responses. I see that neuroatypicality means a lifetime of battling uphill against those prejudices and against the lack of accommodations/understandings that our society, by and large, has no motivation to change. The way of the majority does rule in a society - that's what a society IS. I see that, whatever I am, whyever I am so - I am struggling to function every single day, I always struggled to find people who understood and accepted me, and I do not wish that for my daughter.

And, now, I am also questioning all of my perspectives (excuses?) regarding my daughter. For example, her talkativeness. Is she a "miss chatterbox" because her dad and grandmother are just Like That, and she inherited it from them, or is that a "red flag"? Are her difficulties with spelling a sign of abnormal lack of ability to stay focused, not just the fact that she is half-a-year younger than the rest of her classmates, and that English is a truly stupid language to write in, and that she will catch up in time. Her wish to hug people, even those who are not close friends, whom she met maybe five minutes ago - is that an endearingly optimistic view of the world, which she sees as mostly kind and deserving of embrace - or is that a "hyper-social behavior"?

And, beyond all of that, I question the malleability and impermanence of "one's truth", and, though that, question any human's ability to determine the truth of anything. After all, nothing has actually changed in the last week. Nothing, but strumming of air molecules in the space between two people; nothing but a label placed on a cluster of common actions of a bright little girl in the now, and of another bright little girl in a middle-aged woman's memory.

And yet, it changed the whole filter through which I see... well, almost everything (now that I am hyperfocusing and stressing about it, and is that a symptom, too?)

I am going to speak to my counsellor about it all this week. But, I am a (trainee) counsellor, too. So I can almost predict that through questions and soft suggestions, she will nudge me towards making what probably is the healthiest choice for me: to choose for the label to Not Matter. To look at what IS in my daughter's behaviors and how it affects her right now, not what it might or might not mean underneath or in the future.

That's probably what I will have to do, for my own sanity and to continue being a mum who tries to accept her daughter as she is not as I'd like her to be.

What bothers me, though, is that it IS a choice. All our perceptional interpretations are a choice - a choice of what thoughts and emotions we nurture and listen to. The filter which we look through the world on is a choice (often one that we made before we knew we had a choice to make, but one we made as the most optimum means to survive in the environment we were born into).

And, if it's a choice - then it does not necessarily reflect objective reality (if there's even such a thing; metaphysics makes my brain leak out my ears, so I am not going there).

There's a type of 3rd generation cognitive-behavioral therapy which has proven to be quite helpful with a number of different psychological disorders: acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT). One of the ideas of ACT is to identify goals that are congruent with your personal values and learn how to keep your eyes on the goal, while managing any thoughts/emotions that are unhelpful to you from reaching your goals. There's no judgement on what the goal is, nor focus on unearthing why particular emotions are triggered. So, essentially, it's about helping you craft the filter of your choice which you think is most likely to benefit your wellbeing.

It is something I believe often works, I can see its appeal - it's a comfort and gives a sense of control.

I use emotion/thought controlling techniques every day to help me function (without them, I don't think I would be able to keep my job or continue studying, and I would be even harder person to be around for my family). I remind myself of having a choice to shape my reality, despite what anyone says (and damn the "society")...

And yet, I fear I am lying to myself every single day, and I have no way of finding the "truth".

[ceasarslegion]

If Star Wars is relevant again can i tell yall my earliest experience with sexism lmao

So in like, 2nd grade, I used to hang out with the boys more, and we all agreed to bring our toy lightsabers one day so we could play Jedi vs Sith at recess. Pretty normal children antics.

I wanted to be Obi Wan, because he was my favourite character back then, and I wanted to be like him when I grew up. Again, pretty normal children shit. Cool Jedi knights trump firefighters any day for an 8 year-old. They have the high ground, you could say

Anyway, when I brought my toy lightsaber and said that I wanted to be Obi Wan, I was told no, I can't be Obi Wan or a Jedi or a Sith because girls can't be force-users (this was before I knew I was Not A Girl). They told me I could be Princess Leia though, so I was like fine, she's a warrior anyway, give me a blaster and I'll wreck you fools. Only again, I was told no, I wasn't supposed to fight, I was supposed to be the damsel in distress that they could rescue, which ingrained societal sexism aside, is just out of character for Leia. Like, fake-ass fans don't even know how feral Leia is. So they took my lightsaber and designated me to the sidelines while they played Star Wars functionally without me

So where am I going with this? "Dames, you're reading way too much into a normal childhood experience" is part of the problem, I think. Why is it considered normal that children already emulate the sexism they see in society before they've developed their reading comprehension? No, the one experience didn't really mean anything, and didn't actually harm me at all in the long run, but it's the pattern of behavior that becomes a problem.

The reason children play fighting games like that is because playfighting is important for their social and physical development, and the imagination and creativity aspects of it develop their abstract thought patterns. If I fell on the playground, the adults always came running and made a big fuss about it and told me to be more careful, but if one of the other boys fell, they'd just get brushed off and sent back out. Children are supposed to get scrapes and bruises, because they learn that pain isn't the end of the world, they're tougher than they think, and what level of pain is actually concerning vs just inconsequential. Children cry when they get scraped knees because they don't know what is and isn't a big deal yet, not because they're being dramatic, so their brains take the safe route and just assume the worst. Children wrestle and fight each other because they're learning their own limits, and how to gauge others' as well.

But if you treat all little girls like they really are made of glass, that they can't fight, that they're only good enough to be the damsel in distress, you're barring half the population from properly developing that knowledge. It wasn't just the one time for me, I was never allowed to play fighting games with the other boys because they thought a "girl" would just ruin it for them because "girls can't fight lol," and I'm so conflict-avoidant now that it's an actual problem because I don't know how to stand up for myself and end up either taking an unjust beating lying down or overcompensating and going so far in the other direction that I ruin relationships from it, and I can't help but wonder if being treated like porcelain instead of just giving me a goddamn lightsaber was partially to blame for that problem. Because I was taught that I wasn't as strong as the other boys, I couldn't handle falling down or getting bonked with a plastic tube like THEY can, because if I got "hurt," it was worse than if they did.

And little boys see that happening too, and it instills this subconscious conclusion of "I'm stronger than them, I'm more capable then them, I'm BETTER than them" in them. It's a two-way street, and if that lesson isn't actively unlearned later in life, you get men who believe in gender essentialism.

Anyway, I'm in no way claiming that this is THE cause of systemic sexism, just a contributing factor that seriously needs to be addressed. Just let little girls scrape their knees and play Star Wars. I'm

[cannotescape]

Gretchen's experiment is unsociological, actually

I'll try to explain to the best of my ability why Gretchen's experiment feels so off. Spoilers: it's because it's dumb af and could never have happened in real life. Let's begin!

Before anything, I would like to state that yeah, I'm aware that Gretchen's experiment is meant to be flawed because she's a villain, and the show wants to drive the point home. Were there subtler ways to do it without making her completely idiotic? Maybe. But I would have accepted it if the show hadn't try to pass this experiment as sociological, when it just... isn't.

Why the experiment couldn't have happened in real life:

- the funding: it's well known: getting grants to fund your research project is hell, especially in humanities or social science, where private investors can't make money on your results lol. So Gretchen being able to conduct not one, but probably two experiments on an island? excuse me while I laugh

ok to be fair, the funding is kinda explained: she obviously managed to convince private investors (but even that isn't really explained yet like... what did she promise them? that the results would be good for them? that they could use the results for their own interest? <== all of these are unsociological. you can't predict the results and absolutely can't convince someone of what results you're gonna get before the experiment even starts wtf).

- the ethics: like we all know this shit isn't legal anyway, but let's pretend it is for a minute. Is it ethical? the answer couldn't be more obvious. Why is it important in the sociological field though? Ethics in science has been an ongoing issue: how to treat the test subjects obviously, but also how people could use the results your research produces (hi Oppenheimer!). Among social science and humanities disciplines, sociological studies (and psychological studies) are more likely to be unethical, because you're directly studying humans and human interactions.

More and more ethical committees are created in universities and you can be sure that Gretchen's experiment wouldn't have been approved (is it why she's been fired in the first place?). Actually, having Gretchen be independant from any university kinda helps to remove the ethical question from the equation: she doesn't have to be approved by her peers ==> she can do all the unethical shit she wants and hurts young girls. great.

That being said, and because sociological studies are at risk of being unethical, we learn pretty early on how to make our studies ethical. the first rule being: you have to inform the participants in the study that they're being studied lol. you can't just go behind their back and do everything you want. And yeah, it can make them more suspicious and their behavior may change, but if you're a good sociologist, this is something you can analyze! First rule of sociology: everything is worth noticing. And after a while (or if your poll has a lot of respondents), the discrepencies disappear anyway. Also a very important thing: as a researcher, you're not here to help people or make them feel better (or worse for that matter), you're here to observe and draw conclusions. You have to try and have as little influence on the experiment as possible.

obviously, Gretchen failed all those rules. The "they're on their own" speech doesn't hold up because she influenced the study from the start by choosing the girls, which leads us to...

- the sample: this is probably the dumbest thing in the experiment lmao. Because... what is Gretchen trying to prove? that women are essentially better rulers than men or can create a better society if they're left by themselves (feel free to correct me on this one. my brain mysteriously shut down each time Gretchen started to talk). For one, removing girls from a patriarchal society won't make them forget what's been ingrained in them for years and how society has built them to begin with. As teenage girls, the unsinkable 8 have already suffered from primary (their family) AND secondary socialization (school, friends etc.) Their behavior, personality and aspiration in life have been altered by society, and we actually see it in the show! Removing them now and acting like what they're doing is in no way linked to the way society shaped them is???? astounding.

Side note but a scientifically better (but even more horrific) experiment would have been a group of girls, separated from the rest of society at birth, with the unsinkable 8 as a group control.

Even more ridiculous than that: Gretchen is trying to prove this... with 8 american girls... who obviously haven't been chosen at random... like... there's no way a real sociologist would do this. We learn in first year that we need to choose our analysis tools and our samples based on what we want to analyze. You want to analyze how patriarchy affect women and want to universalize your result? You can't choose qualitative tools, you'll have to use quantitative analysis lmao. And with a big fucking sample at that, a sample chosen randomly to display sub-groups if you want it to be representative. I'm talking thousands of people if it's only US centric. 8 fucking girls lol, give me a break.

To be fair, qualitative and quantitative works often complete each other, but Gretchen never mentions any quantitative analysis so I will take this as just another proof of her incompetence.

- Gretchen's theory: her theory itself is unsociological. It sounds a lot like essentialism which is... the opposite of sociology. Sociologists try to find social explanations (and not psychological or biophysical reasons) to an event or a behavior.

As stated, sociologists rarely try to prove things. They observe a phenomenon and ask themselves what could have caused it. One of the first things to do before a study is actually listing all the biases you could have about the subject (Durkheim's "prénotions") and letting them go or at least be aware of them so it won't hinder the results you could potentially find. The observation must be as impartial and non-judgemental as possible. In the show, Gretchen's prénotions are in full play: we live in a patriarchal society (this one is true, but you have to question it all the same), and women are better leaders than men. ==> unsociological

Again, I would have found the experiment part annoying but wouldn't have complained too much if the writers hadn't made it clear that they were trying to portray a sociological experiment lol. It was confirmed in an interview and the "field notes" are pretty telling. Actually, the field notes are a better sociological study than Gretchen's experiment, how sad. Beyond that, the method used by the characters in the show is also inspired by the sociological method:

- (so called) passive observation with the team watching and monitoring the girls from afar (but the team is still interfering so...)

- direct participative observation in Jeanette's case: you observe and take field notes while being immersed in the subjects' environement. Nora is doing this too actually: she's writing clear social facts in her notebook. "No one's cried for a while. No one even seems that afraid anymore. Still, it's been healing for some." This is sociological

- semi structured interviews in the bunker. They're probably the most sociological part of the experiment tbh. Ironic considering Faber is a psychologist but whatever. Toni's interview is the most representative of what a semi structured sociological interview looks like: the non-judgemental questions ("Why does seeing that make you smile?"), the follow-ups when the answer is unclear or could be more precise ("I'm wondering if you can expand on "cocktease"?"), the specific questions on what a subject thinks of a specific event and why they're thinking it in the first place without making assumptions ("Were any of you alarmed by Leah's behavior?"). It doesn't last long. When Toni answers evasively and doesn't cooperate, Faber drops the sociology charade: "It sounds to me like it was a pretty unsettling loss of control" lololol. neutrality who? You can also point out that something the subject said is at odds with something usually accepted, to better understand how they justify it (like when Faber says that Toni's "alone is safer" is not "the conventional wisdom"). All of this is sociological. Too bad the experiment is not. This interview is also a far cry from what Faber is doing to Leah in episode 6 (and there's 0 value to the "data" he pulled actually, sorry Gretchen).

- the fucking control group. It is a sociological tool. I know for a fact it won't be used well, for the same reasons the sample was a joke.

I don't know, I find it frustrating that the show is clearly trying to show Gretchen's experiment as flawed, while keeping a veneer of scientificity to hide behind. Gretchen is not, and could never be a sociologist,.

[starlightinhumanform]

Discordant

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Platonic Logince

Summary: Based on the amazing @tscampfireau (specifically this brilliant ask)!!~   When Logan gets caught up in questioning his identity, he can’t sleep and he knows that if stays in that tent any longer, he may actually lose his mind. He didn’t consider that playing his guitar in the middle of the night would wake one of his friends up.

Warnings (in order of strength): Some Angst, Discussions of Gender/Sexuality, Mild Language Throughout, (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: Angst With a Happy Ending, Human (Highschool) AU

A/N: You don’t need to be familiar with this AU to understand this fic, but your life will be so so much better if you do check it out. I honestly enjoyed writing this so much. My love for music and the outdoors really popped out in this and I love the characters in this universe. Also I got the opportunity to stretch my platonic-writing muscles! It was so interesting to talk about questioning when that’s something I’m very familiar with. But enough rambling!!  I hope you like reading this as much I enjoyed writing it! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

Logan stared at the thick woven thread that made up the material of above him. It was dark green, just thin enough to allow the moon’s glow to bleed through. Outside, the crickets sang brightly and the sound seemed to beckon him through the zippered door of the tent.

In the sleeping bag next to him, Remus was snoring at a volume level that could rival a chainsaw. Logan hardly knew this guy, but his breathing pattern was becoming increasingly ingrained in Logan’s brain.

He was tired and his head hurt but sleep was apparently not an option. Too many thoughts buzzed around in his head, filling his mind with a drone that built up pressure and made it hard to do anything but stare with glazed over eyes.

It was suffocating. It was overwhelming. It was wrong. Logan was supposed to be the one who knew everything, who always had things under control and had the answer to every question. But he didn’t have the answers- not this time, not about himself.

Logan turned his head to stare at the sleeping teenagers next to him. He had taken the spot closest to the edge of the tent so from here, he could see the entire group packed next to each other in the too-small-for-all-of-them tent. They all looked so peaceful, passed out after a day of questionable shenanigans in the surrounding woods.

Logan didn’t even try to push away the twinges of envy that were creeping into his mind. He wanted the peace that they had- and he didn’t just mean sleep. Everyone else in this tiny little tent was so sure of themselves; they knew exactly who they were and what they were. Even Virgil (who was generally excepted by all as The Baby) was comfortable and open about their nonbinary identity. They had all seemingly outgrown their questioning stages of life. And here was Logan. Stuck. Glitching. Like a thread of himself had gotten snagged and now the whole thing was unraveling.

He didn’t know who he liked or how he liked them. He didn’t know who he was. And it was eating him away.

Logan threw his head back into the pillow behind him. He just wanted to close his eyes and drift to darkness, ignore all of the question marks in his head until later. But if the past few hours proved anything, it was that he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. It would make more sense just to give up on the whole futile attempt.

He glanced sideways again at the pile. None of the others had shifted in minutes. They wouldn’t notice if he got up and left for a few minutes, would they? On his other side, his guitar was wedged between the side of the tent and his sleeping bag. He could just grab it and leave for a little while and the others would never notice.

Before Logan was really conscious of his actions, he was already tiptoeing past the tangle of bodies with the neck of his guitar in his grip.

The relief of stepping outside was physical. His shoulders relaxed immediately and the pressure in his head subsided. A warm breeze played the scent of firs through his hair. Far above, the stars stared down like a thousand shining eyes. He gazed back lovingly.

A few feet ahead of him, the last embers of the fire were quietly fading away. He grimaced slightly at the fact that the other hadn’t put the fire out completely but he couldn’t help appreciating the beauty of the warm glow that burrowed out from the dead ashes.

Logan sat down on one of the logs they had rolled over earlier. The quietness was starting to creep back over him; the charm of the crickets fading to white noise the colour of dirty snow as a thousand questions regained their throne in his mind.

He hung his head and tried to memorize the patchwork of leaves and pine needles beneath his bare feet. There was no pattern- just a mess. It reminded Logan of himself. Logan liked things that were clear and made sense but no matter how hard he tried, he could find nothing familiar or reasonable within himself.

Logan strummed a chord. He didn’t even think about it, no thought going towards the note or the sound he was creating. He just wanted to feel it. Strings pressing into the pads of his fingertips. Neck lying securely in his palm. Body resting against his lap. Vibration moving comfortingly from the guitar to his chest.

His fingers swept down the neck, catching the next note before the echo of the last had a chance to fade away. He found another note and chased it all the way up to the second fret. His fingers danced over the strings, weaving together a melody as his thoughts wandered else where.

Logan had spent years thinking he was straight; it was kind of the “default” of society. But then he learned that guys were an option and, hey, that sounded kind of nice too. When he hit middle school, people started to talk about attraction- er- differently and he thought maybe he was asexual. But that didn’t feel quite right either. It made him wonder exactly how he felt at all.  For a while he wondered if he had ever been attracted to anyone. He thought for sure he would know what love was like. Maybe he just hadn’t experienced it yet. Maybe he was just a late bloomer. Maybe he had felt it and just didn’t know it.

He was brought back to reality when a drop of water hit the top of his hand. He blinked up the sky, trying to find the source of rain in the cloudless sky. He squinted up at the stars, damp eyelashes flickering against his skin. It was only then that he realized he was crying, tears dripping off of his cheekbones and running off of his jaw.

He shook his head and started playing again. He was pressing against the fretboard so hard that his fingers were beginning to feel like he had been playing for an hour. The muscles in his hand were sore and he could feel the strings digging little trenches into his skin. He ignored the sensation and picked the rhythm up.

Things didn’t get easier when gender butted its ugly head into the discussion. It changed everything. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to change everything and maybe it shouldn’t have changed everything but to Logan, it did. How the hell was Logan supposed to put a finger on his sexuality if he didn’t even have a gender to contextualize it in? Logan kept using the same pronouns because it was easier, because maybe he was just imaging it, because maybe he just wanted attention. He just wanted a box to check, just tiny little square he could stand in and say “Hey this feels ok.”

The body of his guitar dug sharply into Logan’s chest as a shuddering sob brought him slumping forward. He didn’t stop playing. He couldn’t stop playing. It was the only thing that he he understood right now.

He let the weight of his body fall completely over the curve of the guitar. The hum of the strings carried directly from the instrument and into his chest where it echoed back until he wasn’t even sure where the sound was coming from. It was just one long harmony, tiny whimpers mixing with melancholy strums that called into the darkness around him. If only an answer would step out of those empty, lonely woods.

Logan started as a hand landed lightly across his shoulders, causing him to jump and spin around.

Roman was standing there, one of Remus’ old volleyball jerseys hanging off of him and making him look like a neon-coloured ghost. His hair stuck up at ridiculous angles but his face couldn’t be more serious, “Logan? Are you ok?”

Logan hurried to wipe his face clear of tears, “Oh yeah. Why are you out here?”

Roman laughed without humor as he took a seat down next to Logan, “I think I could ask you the same thing.”

“I just couldn’t sleep,” Logan shrugged.

“So you decided to play your guitar loud enough to wake me up?”

Logan stared into the maze of trees so didn’t have to look at Roman, “Sorry about that.”

Next to him, Logan heard Roman sigh, “No you don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Logan kept staring a mile ahead. He wasn’t exactly the best at talking about things like this, about himself. Besides he hadn’t ever mentioned this to anyone before. Whenever the others discussed their sexualities or genders he would step back and go quiet, walled off by his own confusion. He didn’t know how to join the conversation when his experience seemed so, so different than theirs. He would probably seem like an alien to them- so unsure of himself while they seemed so comfortable. Maybe they would decide he didn’t belong after all. He didn’t know how to join the conversation and he sure as hell didn’t know how to begin it.

But maybe now was the time to try, “Roman, have you ever felt lost?”

“You do remember how we met, right?” Logan could hear the ruthful smile that tugged on Roman’s mouth.

Logan turned to face him, unsure of where exactly this was going, “Yeah. In our freshman year.”

“Your freshman year. My repeat year.”

“Oh. Right,” Logan didn’t know what to say; he got the feeling he wasn’t really supposed to say anything yet.

Roman nodded like he was having a silent conversation in his head with someone else and they had just made a good point, “The year before and the start of that year, I had never felt more lost in my life. I couldn’t keep up with the year I was supposed to be with. I didn’t fit in with the incoming class and I didn’t know anyone there. I was separated from my twin for the first time ever. And I was still struggling to come to terms with my identity as a guy. I was cut off from my friends, my family, the people around me, even myself.”

“So what changed?”

“I met you,” Roman smiled warmly.

Logan felt his eyebrows weave together, “How did I do anything?”

“You gave me a place to stand, somewhere safe that I always knew would be there while I figured everything else out. You gave me a friend. You were always so there that you gave me the room to find myself.”

“Oh,” But that was exactly the problem. Because he wasn’t there, he had no clue where he was.

“So yes,” Roman bumped his shoulder into Logan’s, “I’ve been lost before. And you helped me find myself and my friends and even my brother again.”

“Oh,” Logan cursed in his head. He must sound stupid, but he didn’t know what else to say.

Roman leaned sideways to nudge Logan with his shoulder again, “You obviously didn’t ask me that just so you could hear some sappy rant; what’s up?”

Logan moved the guitar off of his lap and set it down in an attempt to buy time. He was staring off again, half hoping that if he stared into the dark woods long enough he would just melt into them. The other half wanted to explode and tell Roman every single thought bouncing through his mind. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees, “I’m lost.”

“Ok,” Roman spoke slowly, confusion evident in his tone as he began to rub his hand over the plane of Logan’s shoulders, “How are you lost?”

“It’s going to sound stupid,” A laugh escaped Logan in a breathy wheeze; it sounded sickly to his own ears, but he was far away. There was no humor in his voice but the situation could only be described as ridiculous. He was out here, in the middle of the night, sobbing like a man whose heart had been broken- and over what? Because he couldn’t decide who to crush on? He shook his head; he was obviously making too big of a deal out all of this, “It doesn’t really matter.”

Roman gave a similarly humorless laugh, “I’ve seen you cry- what? Maybe three times? This matters.”

“I’m just questioning a lot of things.”

“What sort of things?” Roman was clearly trying to draw more information out of him.

Logan teetered for a moment, stuck on the top of the fence and too scared to jump down. Except that’s where he always was, wasn’t it? Always questioning, always unsure, always overthinking things, always analyzing the path and never actually taking a step forward. He took a shaky deep breath. Maybe it was time to take the leap, “My gender. My sexuality. It’s like I don’t know where I fit in with all of it.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence played into the night, filling the space between them with the quiet murmur that trees whisper at the dead of night. Under any other circumstances, Logan would have found it beautiful. Now it just served as an indication that he had said something wrong. He found himself counting out the measures as he held his breath and wished he could fill the painful space with something, anything. He wanted to start playing his guitar again, get completely lost in it, and pretend nothing else existed. He settled for clearing his throat.

“Do you need to?” Roman interrupted the silence.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” Logan sat up so Roman could see his confused expression.

“I mean, do you need to know right now?”

Logan couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice, “Yes, I need to know right now. I want to know who I am!”

Roman clamped his hands down on Logan’s shoulders, making eye contact so intense it made Logan squirm, “Logan, listen to me. You are more than your sexuality. You are more than your gender. You are brilliant and funny and the only person who has ever been patient enough to tutor me. You’re one of my very best friends and that has nothing to do with who you like or what pronouns you use.”

Logan glanced away, the pressure from Roman’s eyes and words far too great for him to hold on to. He tried to avoid that gaze, but more importantly he wanted to avoid the heaviness of what Roman had said. It meant too much. He tried to resort back to his annoyance, “How can you say that? You changed your pronouns; they sure as hell mean a lot to you. Why can’t they matter to me?”

He wanted his voice to sound bitter, to bite, to cut down what Roman had said. But his words were a whimper and nothing more than a plea. He dissolved into tears again and sank into Roman’s side, “Why can’t it matter to me? Why can’t I know too?”

Logan felt Roman wrap his arms around his upper body. He usually hated contact like this but right now it was exactly what he needed; it was grounding, Roman’s sturdy arms giving himself to hold onto through it all.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. It was kind of like dreaming- just fragments of broken thoughts floating through darkness. Roman’s shirt smelled like fire smoke and the scent drifted through’s Logan’s head along with everything else. He seemed to be thinking nothing and everything all at the same time. He didn’t know how to make sense of any of it.

Eventually he sat up, wiping his eyes and brushing his hair back into place as if that could save the shreds of his dignity, “Sorry about that.”

Roman had moved his arms when Logan sat up and he seemed tempted to wrap them around Logan again, “What? No, it’s ok.”

Logan shifted from side to side, “I just... I feel like such an outsider. Not knowing, I mean. You’re all so confident and I’m just lost. It feels like I’m missing a piece of myself. How do I find it?”

Roman seemed to take a moment to think, running his hands through his hair and staring off into the distance. When he turned back to Logan, his eyes were warm and full of little thoughts that bumped around the edges, “I think the first step is accepting that you can’t force it. Then you can just wait until you find something that feels right. And that might take a little while, but that’s ok. You’ll figure it out eventually- you always do. The problem you need to work on is being patient; everything will fall into place once it’s ready to.”

“Yeah, well, being patient isn’t exactly my strong suit,” Logan huffed a laugh up into the twinkling sky, “I hate seeing a problem and not being able to solve it or know the answer.”

“Logan, look at me.”

Roman’s voice came out in one low line of sound. It was more of a command than anything else and Logan felt compelled to turn.

“You’re not some math problem or crossword puzzle. There’s no x to solve for and the sooner you accept that, the easier it’s going to be for you to relax and let the answers come when they will.”

Logan glared at him for a moment because, as horrible as it was to admit, Roman was making a lot of sense. He sighed, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Roman gave him one of the sunshine smiles he had grown famous for at their school, “Thanks, Teach.”

They sat there comfortably silent for a few moments. Wind rustled the trees around them and the final embers dissolved into ashes. The moon basked the entire scene in an ethereal, cold light. For once, Logan felt like he could reflect the peacefulness around himself.

“And Logan? Don’t be afraid to talk to us. We’d all be happy to give you answers- or at least, the best answers we can. If I’m being honest, I don’t know if anyone is ever completely sure about this sort of stuff. How was it that you described the brain- ‘a couple pounds of gray tissue that reacts to electrical currents’ ? We’re humans and we’re messy and it can be hard to figure out what all those electrical currents mean. But we’ll help as much as we can. Hell, I’ll go to the library with you and we can spend the entire day there researching sexualities and identities if you want.”

“Thank you, Roman. That-“ Logan paused to take a deep breath. The sincerity and dedication in Roman’s words had a way of weakening his own voice until it was hard to speak in anything but a thin waver, “That means a lot.”

“No problem,” Roman gave him a smile that meant so much more than his casual words. He held it for a moment before trading it for a playful wink, “Now can I ask for a favour?”

Logan laughed and reached for his guitar, knowing what was coming, “Sure.”

“Play that song I like?”

“Already on it.”

The strings were cool, comfortable beneath the warmth of his fingers. His hand slipped quickly into the melody as Roman began humming. Logan would figure things out. It might take a while but for now, Roman was singing and the trees were whispering their song and the moon was turning everything silver and he could stay here a little bit longer.

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist, just send an ask or reply to this post :p 

~ @phan-fander @abi-beehive @fandomfan315 @cas-is-a-hunter @reggieleigh07 @endless-rain-of-words ~

[xiuxiuthumbsucker]

Men see other men as people, but they see women as Women, and their idea of a woman is a hole to shoot their fucking load in, and maybe use for some babies, and build this disgusting suburban life with. They see women as objects for sex, or romance, they don't think that men can socialise with women without there being ulterior fucking motives, thereby talking to an ugly girl makes you a pathetic loser. And on top of all that, they see women as irritable loudmouths without a single real thought and nothing good to say. Yet they get girlfriends, and wives, and act like they love them and truly see them as people, and live their capitalistic, hellish fucking lives with a Woman they hate until their stupid little life gets snuffed out in a care home full of old, middle class, white clones of themselves. Every moment of their miserable lives practically copied and fucking pasted.

[kyoko0001]

So I got re-diagnosed with ADHD recently and got on proper medications for it. I say re-diagnosed because I had been diagnosed in childhood multiple times, but my parents refused any sort of therapy or treatment for me. I’ve spent my entire life self medicating in various ways and beating myself up in an attempt to just be functional. 

I gave up on normal years ago!! After so many teachers, family members, and friends just telling me to be quite. Just pay attention. Just make a list. Just try this app. Just stick to a routine. Just write it down. Just don’t be so sensitive... I seriously wonder sometimes if I just... human wrong? 

The things my parents and teachers constantly told me run on repeat in my head every time I notice the gap between me and ‘normal.’ I berate myself by saying I am just being lazy. I am not trying hard enough. That if I can only do better, read another self help book, find a new app.... That I could be normal too. Everything would click and I could get my shit together. 

Over the years I think I myself have become my biggest bully... and I learned to bully myself for the natural way my brain works because a bunch of uneducated adults and teachers told me I was purposely failing because I just didn’t care. I learned that I didn’t deserve love, empathy, or basic human respect until I ‘grew out of it’ and that was so deeply ingrained in me, and my inner critic got so big, that I thought I was just... bad. Not even broken! just offensively wrong to everyone and anyone I came across.  

When I was a kid and still in catholic school we would stay after school mass for private prayer or reflection and I would look around at all the statues and crosses and wonder what I did to make god hate me. 

Let that sink in. 

I thought my parents and teachers hated me because god had made me bad. and no matter how many prayers I said, how often I went to confession, or how much repenting and apologizing I did to those statues... nothing changed. 

I don't have a unique experience. I am sure a lot of you relate to this and I am fucking sorry. 

I only graduated in 2015 guys. I’m 23. Those same ignorant teachers and school administrators sill work with kids just like me every single day and I wonder if they understand what a negative impact they can cause. Not just on kids with ADHD... but any kid who doesn’t have a perfect home life or is struggling with mental health issues. We are called liars. We are told we are faking. We are told we just want attention. We are called dramatic. We are told we are lazy. That we lack work ethic and if we don’t want to work at McDonalds for the rest of our lives we better get it together. 

The thing that always frustrated me the most... is that I always tried.

It was never about not trying. 

I don’t think I am more overwhelmed as an adult then I was in school... but I think I am more aware that it is not normal for things to actually be this hard. I’ve been in therapy for like... 2 years now I think? I needed two years of therapy to deal with the complex trauma from my first 18 years of life to even get to a point of being able to show myself enough compassion to not instantly shut down the thought of “well maybe I have no reason to lie to myself and everyone else about how my brain works?”  

Yes. 

I have a lot of genuine fear that I am making the entire thing up for attention and all those teachers and my shit parents were right all along. That really I am just lazy and life really is this hard and it wont get any better because everyone procrastinates or gets distracted every now and then. 

I know I am not alone in this ether. Tons of people feel this way about their mental health because our society treats mental health differently than other forms of illness or trauma. You wouldn't worry about faking a broken arm or a failing kidney. 

I was shaking as I waited for my appointment to start. I was terrified that I wasn’t going to be believed even though all I had to do was tell the truth. I was afraid to say that I felt like the coping skills I had learned on my own through self help books and therapy were not enough and I wanted to try medication. I was afraid she was going to think I was just a drug seeker because I have self medicated with different things in the past to try and quite my head down enough to function. 

Instead I felt listened too, validated, and not alone. 

I had my first day at work today on my new medication and FUUUUUCK is there a night and day difference. I don’t act any different in a social setting but guys... . My head was quieter then it has been in years and instead of crying in the bathroom because I was overwhelmed... I had to take a quick cry brake because it was 4:30 and I actually got everything done I needed to without my brain pulling me in 50 directions all at once. 

Do you know how much energy you have at the end of the day when you’re not spending your entire day mentally berating yourself over the fact that you are doing everything but the thing you need to do? Do you know how much time I save when I don’t have to start from the beginning of work tasks over and over every time I get interrupted because I loose my train of thought and don't want to make a mistake? 

After I got out of work it was not straight home to smoke some weed and vegitate because I am out of spoons and transformed back into my natural gremlin state. I stopped and put gas in my car, I did my dishes, I walked the dog, and I worked on my fics some while still getting downtime! I still got to play on tiktok and obsessively check the election results. 

My energy level, concentration, and mood have been consistent the entire day. That NEVER happens. 

I get to go to bed tonight knowing I did every fucking thing I was supposed to do today and honestly... I have no clue how many years its been since I could say that. 

Today I wasn’t just functional... I got to feel normal. 

[yugirl-with-dragons]

Beyond the stars

This was in my notes for awhile and I hope you enjoy these two blushy dorks! 

…

“Yusei?.. Are you awake?” 

Her body still coursing  with quiet adrenaline, tense from a nightmare that haunts her tonight. Though it wasn’t a bad premonition, it just startled her. A crackle of the wood underneath the warm fire against the soft summer night filled in between their silence. 

“Hm?.. Aki what’s wrong?” 

“ I.. I can’t sleep. I just had a bad dream.” 

He didn’t quite catch it at first, since he was starting to feel sleep calling for him. Though when her words registered in his brain he quickly became concerned. Almost ready to wake up stardust from his slumber, waking a dragon without cause was a death sentence but a premonition was a good justification. 

“Did you have another premonition?” 

Sitting up, with her hair a bit messy she gave him a glance to his eyes. His eyes, they had a brunt force but allowed his softness to seep through them. 

“I.. no it’s..”

Trailing off, she turned away from him from a force of habit. Not being able to face him. She wasn’t confessing a crime or avoiding punishment when she hid information. Though in difference her face flushed a bit red and warm as if she had drank rum straight from a flask, suddenly nervous for punishment for speaking out of turn. As if she suddenly remembered rules she forgot before realizing that she was no longer bound to Divine’s guidance. 

So why do I feel all.. jittery and nervous when I look at him? I.. I can trust him.. can’t I? I mean, stardust is his companion after all..

Subconsciously, her fingertips tapping against the ground, huddling herself. Her restless hands made their way into her hair, fiddling with it to ground herself, to try to not appear anxious or show any fear. Trying to break her old habits of holding back information, as she was no longer bound to the rules and guidelines Divine had set for her.. before draining her magic.

Yusei waited with patience, seeing if she would elaborate on her own terms. 

Though the only words she could muster up were, 

“it was just a bad dream..”

Yusei let out a small breath of relief as his muscles relaxed, knowing that it may just be a bad dream, but not a nightmare that would potentially kill her or stardust in the real world. Even though she refused to make eye contact with him, he still kept his focus on her. To keep a protective watch over her while to maintain an ear out for nearby danger. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The wildlife of the night and stardust’s gentle snoring filled between their silence. Aki started debating in her head if she should say anything to Yusei about her dream. Normally if it wasn’t deemed as of ‘importance’, she kept it to herself. 

Why? If it doesn’t affect him or his companion.. Why would he want to know?  

It wasn’t a premonition, only a bad dream. Why would a knight like him want to care about a silly little nightmare? He’s got more important things to worry about, like saving the world from complete destruction than to listen to her ramblings!  After all, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her once all of this is over. It wouldn’t make sense for him to fuss over her because she had a minor bad dream!

The warm glow from his face, that signal of friendship and joy.. She was going to miss that. After all, she couldn’t live with him. She’s a witch, an outcast, she couldn’t live with a knight. She’d only endanger him despite saving him with the magic she used to once save him from death. In the few times they’ve stopped in town for supplies words of hate and accusations of her manipulating him were thrown at her. Of course no one would enforce their threats with Yusei at the helm, it was practically stupid to do so! She was definitely going to miss that feeling of safety if she ever had to return to town without him. Reminding herself that they can’t stay together forever, she has to be ready to separate when the time comes for them to part ways.  

He has to do his job, and I have to get my magic back. After this I can .. find elsewhere to stay.

She blinked out from her thoughts as if to shove him mentally out the door once again. 

“..I.. no its.. it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” 

Yusei could still feel a small pang of sadness, that she still couldn’t bring herself to place her faith in him. That he means that he will protect her at any cost even if he suffered for it.

Normally, he’d try to take guesses of what’s bothering his friends if they couldn’t give a direct answer. As sometimes it could help ease the stress on the other person on what it could’ve been about without directly stating the issue.

With her, he wasn’t going to take any sort of risk. He was only able to gain her trust by slowly helping her out of her shell in the big and little moments outside of normal society; forcing an answer out of her would undo any progress he’s made with her. Little by little, the rules that she had ingrained into her being started to fade the more time that had passed between them. Her hesitation still showed through however, as she always asked for permission; Whether it was for a minute task or even to speak, there was  still a disconnect showing that shouldn’t be there. A  part of her that still feared him because of her mentor’s teachings about the outside world. As there were sometimes where she had completely regressed back into her shell, though it’s only a very few times and primarily about her parents. Still, neither he or stardust pressed about it. Something in his gut told him that it’d be best if she were to bring it up to him when she felt ready for that conversation.

So he gave a small smile as she turned back to him. 

“Well.. whenever you feel ready to talk about your dream, you can always tell me or stardust about it. We’ll listen to you.” 

Her heart skipped a beat, as the door gave a gentle knock from the other side to call back to her. It was a similar conversation whenever she had a minor nightmare. Afterwards she allowed herself to drift back to earth and root herself into the soft dirt. Though tonight, she didn’t want to drift. She wanted to be rooted, but the clear skies twinkling down amongst the clearing let her drift to the stars instead. 

“Um.. I know this is weird to ask.. but.. could.. could we look at the stars?.. Together?” 

Yusei temporarily blocked out his sensing for danger; focusing on her words. A small touch of faith she started to place into him. 

 A faint flicker of hope starts to burn as a consistent but weak flame. 

Her face started to heat up as she started to backtrack her words, fearing punishment for breaking an unspoken rule she never learned about. Though his reply cut off her fears for a moment in exchange for one of peace. 

“ You don’t have to ask, Aki. We share the same sky and stars. ” 

He couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, mixture of being proud and happy of the slow growth he’s seeing from their first meeting under the stars. From reservation to taking a few more steps to confidence to take her ex–mentor down to the realm waiting for him. Not hesitating, he sat himself up and patted to the soft earth next to him as a means for her to join him. 

Sitting up next to him she brushed the leaves and dirt that became entangled with her being, apologizing profusely. Yusei didn’t care, he may have been tried but goodness she was adorable when she became flustered. Though this realization forced his heart hammer in his chest, unsure how long he’d been admiring her for her strength and resilience against the odds of her mentor. 

The two of them could feel their hearts race against their minds as they slowly closed the space between them. Yusei, trying to fight the warmness riding in his cheeks and aki trying to fight the thoughts of being emotionally open with another person. Afraid that she might say something wrong? No no, that wasn’t quite it as the knots in her stomach were telling her.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was grateful for the knight and his companion taking her in after being left to die. Though lately she couldn’t help but feel more .. attached to him. Almost wanting to reach out to him before remembering that when she trusted someone, she nearly died. Though her heart kept screaming that he was different, that it wouldn’t wind up like last time. 

Though right now, she shoved her competing thoughts to gaze up to the twinkling of stars down to the earth. With him right by her side, getting comfortable, she gently grazed her hand over his before retracting away out of embarrassment. He felt a tug of disappointment pull at his heartstrings at her retraction. 

Soon enough the cackling fire filled in the stretched out silence. Though it didn’t last for long as she spoke up. 

“ Hey Yusei?..Do.. uhm, do you think that there’s life beyond the stars?“  

“ What do you mean Aki?” 

He turned to her briefly paying attention to her stumbling of uneasiness. It was clear that she didn’t ask too many questions on her own if they weren’t guided. Which internally made him furious on Aki’s behalf, seeing how she is barely functioning with a team that cares for her. He can only imagine any other manipulation she’s gone through disguised as ‘ love and guidance’. Though it goes against his moral code as a knight to take personal vengeance, he was going to make sure that Divine is permanently taken care of when their blades next meet.   

“ Well, after our time in this world has passed.. Do you think that.. This is gonna sound stupid but, um..”

She started to fiddle with her bangs and avoided his gaze again. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, the purity of balance shone through the fiber of her being. A beacon of hope, once all of this was over they would part ways as if they’d never met and she’d be alone all over again. It was better for them if she didn’t get too attached to him.. right? 

He may be tired but he wasn’t going to rush her. She’s slowly reaching out to place faith within him in small pieces.  

Progress. 

“That our souls go beyond the stars to another world? One just as real as ours but.. different?” 

His gaze returned back to the stars with a smile on his face. She couldn’t ignore the twinkling of the nocturnal beauty and life that reflected back into the lakes of his eyes. The mirrors of hope that were his eyes. 

“ I can’t answer that.. But I won’t doubt that there’s something beyond this earth. Maybe our souls end up in a separate world as our final resting place.. Or  maybe our souls are reborn in another time and another place… Who knows? If that’s the case, then I’d want you, Stardust and my friends to be there with me.” 

Aki felt her heart race a marathon as her face started to flush a rose color in her cheeks trying to defend herself in justification. Turning to him and raising her hands to put up a wall of insecurity. 

“ Really? Why? I can see Stardust.. But me? I’m a witch! I manage to get myself into trouble and–”

Yusei, meeting Aki’s eyes, didn’t like interrupting others, but only had to do it when necessary; her anxieties were flaring up and he needed to give her a stable grounding of trust and foundation. Fully knowing that it was something she hasn’t had since Divine pulled the rug under her, from taking the ability she’s lived with since she was born. 

To tear down her wall of insecurity to give her an embrace of warmth and love she deserved. Knowing that her life wasn’t an easy one, that she needed a friend to call on without fearing being left behind to be burned at the stake of judgement. To let her know that she was no longer isolated and a sacrifice ready to be slaughtered in the screamings of fear, that she had someone to defend her in her time of need. 

“ Aki. You may be a witch, but that doesn’t define your heart. You have abilities beyond comprehension but that doesn’t mean that you’re exiled to a life of misery for being different..” 

I wish one day that you could see that your magic is a gift and not a curse.. 

She did let her head hit his shoulder as she let out a yawn. Yusei could feel his face light itself on fire as in his years as a knight he’s never dealt with maidens in this context. Yes many of them have flirted with him, but he wasn’t interested in them. Their claims for marriage felt more for association and lust rather than with love. 

With Aki? His heart would flutter with the monarch butterflies that would land in her hair and frame her face. Her smile gave a light of hope to him that he had the strength to curb the darkness rising in the evening skies. 

Her laughter? He doesn’t hear it often, when he does it’s a sound he keeps close into his soul. A sign of her shedding her past of pain and isolation to a new life filled with joy just waiting for her. What would happen to the two of them after this was all over? He wasn’t sure, but he hoped that she would open her heart to completely to him when all of this was over. 

“ I know.. but that’s how it is Yusei.” 

“ Maybe, we can’t change what we’re born with or our circumstances.. But it’s what we do with our life is what matters. ” 

Aki let out a tired yawn staring up at the stars, entranced by their sparkles of life. 

“ I suppose..” 

Yusei gave a nod as the two of them slouched back against Stardust. With her head against his shoulder, he let himself stay still as he had no intention of moving anytime soon. She changed the subject to point out the constellations sparkling down in the night sky, taking in the map of the night sky. Sharing a few small moments of hilarity that ensued, whether it calling out the wrong spell and trapping Divine in an entanglement of vines for a solid hour when she started training with him or when Yusei played revenge pranks back at Martha’s on some of the other children from a relatively stupid bet. Glints of happiness and laughter sparkling under the stars. 

Slowly as her eyes shuttered she left her body be engulfed in the warmth from the fire and encasing loosely her arms around her new pillow for the night. Yusei, a bit surprised that he now has a sleeping woman in his arms, did his best to be still, to not disturb Aki. Trying to figure out if he should move her off onto the ground or if he should just let her sleep on him for the night and figure out if he should just wake up earlier before the sun rose. 

He wasn’t sure when but as when she fell asleep, a smile grew on his face. She may not have put her faith in him completely, but she was starting to trust him. Though it didn’t stop him from whispering his thoughts to her as her magenta hair lit up with the warmth of the fire gave a soft glow to her. Wishing that she could see the goodness in herself, that she is a good person with or without her abilities.

“You have a good heart Aki.. I wish you could see that..” 

To show his trust, showing his faith in her, he let his left gently hold her side and held his sheathed sword tightly in his right side wedged between his arm. Ready to fight at the slightest movement.

He let his head swing back into the dragon’s side as his eyes started to close as he left out a soft snore with a little too much force from deadweighting.

Stardust, awoke a bit startled that something hit his left side ready to attack. Only to see his two human companions sleeping right on him. Stardust never understood human concepts of courting and the rules that go along with it, but he could at least see that the concept of love could change a human.. or two. 

Take your rest and enjoy this moment of peace..  you two deserve it.

---submitted by  @taytay4674788 ---

IT’S MY MEDIEVAL AU AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

thank you so much for this gift!!!!! I love how this one shot focuses on Aki feeling hesitant about trusting someone else again... Divine traumatized her enough to give her trust issues and it’s okay not feeling ready even if there are green flags basically everywhere about a specific person... 

“I wish one day that you could see that your magic is a gift and not a curse” big canon vibes !!! I love it *chef kiss*

The fact that they’re sitting there, stargazing together fills my heart with sparkles and little hearts. Thank u for the feels

[cameronhvrley]

I’ve been thinking bout this a loooooong time basically a large portion of my life tbf.

While you can’t compare it to other discriminatory issues, I feel it does have its own place and honestly having experienced myself - it is kinda cruel and not talked about much or being brushed off as it not being deep.

So, I’m left handed - doesn’t sound too bad, right?

No, but hear me out.

Historically speaking left handed people were seen as evil, an advocate of the devil, an abomination, sinners, criminals and just something really unnatural and WRONG. 

Up until my dad’s generation they would force left handed people to use their right hand as their dominant one, which caused severe damage to their brains. For example a lot of those have a lot of trouble reading long paragraphs, writing, spelling, concentration etc. the list is very long. My point is, it was just very damaging. 

While changing left to right stopped for the most part, the stigma kind of remained. Yeah, sure we live in a world where most people are right handed and thus, everything is made to accommodate them. Like those weird single chairs with a little table (luckily we had actual large desks you could share with another person), various kitchen gadgets, computers (which I was forced to use right handed) and the fact our writing is from left to right. 

I still very much have ingrained in my brain how I was treated when I was a little child. - like in primary and secondary school I'd constantly get yelled at by teachers for turning in messy school- and homework (we had to write with fountain pens and ink which I smudged and ballpoint pens weren't allowed until I was in highschool), no left handed scissors were provided at schools so I couldn't properly cut paper unless I’d brought my own which right handed pupils never had to worry about. 

In crafting lessons in schools everyone got taught in depth how to crochet and knit except for me because the teachers didn’t wanna bother too much with the left handed pupils which was mostly only me in my class and if I was lucky one other kid. So it was kind of like "LOL good luck lil one" in my case, while still having to deliver same quality for equally good grades (luckily crocheting was easy enough). I had one teacher who tried so hard to explain knitting to me so I could do it properly. ONE in my whole life. 

I lived through years of people seeing me write and being like “you’re left handed???? Woooow that is SO WEIRD how do you even hold the pen that is so strange!”, also through bad jokes and having people make me feel like an alien or outcast or some weird creature. I had a person look at me while writing and say to my face “if my child were to show signs of being left handed I'd simply slap that shit outta them so they’d never dare picking the pen up with their left hand" because she found left handed people to be such an abomination and just really out of place and “strange”. 

I just think left handed people deserve less disadvantages in our right hand centered society is all. I hope that children today have it a bit easier and don’t get scolded for things that aren’t their fault like smudging ink. It was a lil bit traumatizing for me

sorry this is a long post but I needed to get this off my chest. 

x 

[wiisagi-maiingan]

So on the Piper thing, and like feel free to just be like “no, u need to take a second look” bc I am white, but I will say two things here. One, her eyes are kaleidoscope bc Aphrodite changes to be what SHE THINKS you will find beautiful. She wants you to be jealous, she puts you under a spell. Annabeth being jealous of dark hair in MoA is an example of this. Aphrodite passed this to Piper, and yeah gods don’t have DNA but all the kids look like their godly parents. Percy especially. 1/2

And with the sexuality of her claiming, Aphrodite doesn’t care if it makes Piper uncomfortable. Later in the book when Piper has a vision of her before she helps out the crew, she holds up an outfit she thinks Piper would look good in, but Piper says she doesn’t like it. Despite this, when Aphrodite gives everyone a mini makeover, she puts Piper in that outfit. Aphrodite is a bad mom, that’s emphasized throughout the books. She cares about her kids, but she also sees them as dolls. Sorry, 2/3

Ok 3/3for real. With Jason, unfortunately, 15 year old boys are Like That. He saw her boobs and it made him a little wild, especially since he already had a little crush on her. Yeah the mentality is kinda problematic, but it’s also ingrained into how we raise our boys. It’s unfortunately realistic. I know I as a queer person usually don’t mind a character being problematic in like their gay awakening or something because it’s a reality of life. I could be in the wrong still since I’m white but

Ok big sorry but my brain is screaming at me to say this (hashtag anxiety things) but I definitely am not trying to say that Rick’s writing of Piper wasn’t racist. Percy Jackson is just a special interest of mine and I also love literary analysis more than I love myself so when I see something I disagree with due to my analysis I end up going a little feral and refusing to shut up about it lol. But yeah, I stand by what I said unless I get new information from an informed person such as yourself

You realize that the PJO character of Aphrodite isn’t real, right? That she isn’t a person who is capable of making her own decisions? That Jason Grace and Piper McLean aren’t real either? That they’re not actual teenagers struggling with actual teenager things and are, in fact, lines on a page whose decisions are all being made by a white adult man? That everything in the books was a conscious decision on Riordan’s part and not some deep analysis of a society and the minds of people who don’t exist?

[jaepies]

𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - attack on titan

eren x fem!oc

attack on titan au

inspired by 'see you in my 19th life' webtoon

author's note ; eunji is the 18th life name whilst hyejin is her general name :)

intro : sweet summer day

─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

memories are strange entities. they lay dormant in the cave we call the mind until all of a sudden - something as minuscule as a waft of a scent walks by, triggering a forgotten incident from decades ago.

as humans, we wonder about the memories of our previous lives which remain with our souls eternally. we ask questions about: who were we? how did our past selves use to act? perhaps they were delinquents who wreaked havoc on the neighbourhood or perhaps they were a pair of goody-two-shoes who could do no wrong.

maybe we even had a significant other whose love used to fill our days with boundless bliss?

it all seemed like a classified secret which the brain could never gain access to no matter how hard it racked all its neurones in an attempt to search for all the answers.

however, hyejin ban must have been a glitch in the system.

when her first life occurred, she didn't think much of it and lived it to the fullest as much as a working-class girl could in the 1800s (society was something of a different nature in those time). she grew up with plenty of friends and siblings, fell in love with a boy who had lived next door and worked as an average house-wife whilst the husband provided the money required to live comfortably with not much to worry about except for disease.

to say that hyejin was surprised when every detail of her previous self came flooding back to her would be an understatement. there is no word in the english dictionary to describe the shock which devoured her.

she had heard conspiracies of those who claimed to remember fragments of their past lives in her village before however she never thought them to be a thing of truth. it was as if all the memories had been transferred onto a hard drive and inserted into her new body, making her age at least 80 years as her 'life' flashed right before her juvenile eyes.

nonetheless, she tolerated having two sets worth of memories and had a rather quiet, peaceful existence with only her family to bid her a farewell as she silently passed. she watched as the 19th century came to an end and the world transitioned into a new one, marking an end of an era.

flash forward a few more lives and her soul had endured more than anyone could ever comprehend. each body presenting a new perspective on the mixed bag of earth. each body which she took on was distinctly different from the last as all her lives came in all different shapes and sizes as well as randomising which gender she was. from world wars to famine to milestones such as the first man walking on the moon, hyejin's mind remembered it all. only to leave it behind as the never-ending cycle of death and reincarnation continued.

some lives were shorter than others as unfortunate environments cut the thread of life much too soon, leaving much of the life to fall to the pits of hell. sometimes hyejin was treat unfairly as she suffered the struggles of poverty and faced many of the evils which the world had to offer. yet instead of living filled with resentment and agony, she took these as opportunities to grow wiser as a being. eventually, school became repetitive as the knowledge taught had already been ingrained within her.

as hyejin became used to her circumstances and gained a better understanding of what was happening, she set rules to live by. one of which was to let go of any burdens and troubles of past lives which could mental strain to her present and subsequent self.

﹝•••﹞

hyejin was rebirthed for the 18th time as 'eunji yun' and quickly she learnt that she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. she grew up surrounded by maids ready to cater for her every wish and need, it was a life where money would never be an issue and her family showered her more love than she had ever encountered before.  at the age of 6, her family brought a younger sister into the world who not before long began to mean the absolute world to <> and she took it upon herself to fill the other half of the parental figures that was left empty by her hard-working father.

the sun was shining brightly when hyejin's mother guided her to the family car, telling her vaguely that she had business with another mother at another household not too dissimilar from theirs. the girl let her curiosity get the better of her and asked why she had to come along - her mother just turned to look at her with a mischievous glint in her eye and replied with a face plastered with a simple smile that held no information. hyejin despite being wise beyond her years reacted with a childish sigh and dramatic slump in her seat as the car started to drive away.

soon a house in the distance came into view, the car slowing down as the wheels entered the extensive drive. hyejin thought her house had been grand however this house was the epitome of luxury even the air had the distinct smell of the rich. on the journey, she had been told this was the residence of a wealthy chairman whose son was of a similar age to her.

upon walking in she couldn't help but gasp from the grandiose of it all, the chandeliers hung on the ceiling twinkling away as the striking staircase sat in the centre of the foyer. her awe was shattered as she heard a chuckle infused with honey from a woman whose aura held as much awe as the impressive atmosphere of the interior did.

'you must be miss eunji yun, what a pleasure to meet you. i'm carla jeager.'

'pleased to make your acquaintance, thank you for inviting my mother and i to your household.'

all the etiquette lessons were quickly put into action as hyejin's voice uttered the stock response which she had practised numerous times growing up.

carla found the amusement in this textbook conversation and responded with another sweet chuckle

'no need to be so formal, your mother and i are very good friends, please make yourself at home.'

she spoke with such a heart-warming tone that felt so down to earth, it was like listening to melodic tunes of birds chirping - you wouldn't believe that her family was one with the highest status and wealth.

'carla, should we brew a pot of tea?'

her mother interjected whilst handing over her faux fur jacket to the maid who had discreetly made their way beside hyejin in the foyer. she had not even noticed that she had already slipped off her diamond-encrusted heels.

'ah, what a good idea! let's move to the kitchen'

eagerly the pair of mothers walked side by side already engrossed in a different conversation it was clear that they had much to catch up on.

swiftly after pulling her sneakers off, hyejin started to take a few steps before carla turned around, halting her,

'there's no need to follow us, i'm sure you would have a far more entertaining time with my son who you will find in the library up the stairs. will you be able to find your way?'

hyejin hadn't noticed the glow which consumed her eyes as she smiled at her, there was an extremely low probability that she wouldn't do what carla had asked of her.

'of course ma'am, don't worry too much about me and please proceed with your intended business.'

as hyejin heard the receding the steps of the mothers she couldn't quite help but catch wisps of their conversation.

'she conducts and speaks so eloquently for a 12-year-old.'

'sometimes i forget that she's even a child at all.'

holding onto the handrails, she looked back with a knowing smile as she began her descent up the stairs. following carla's instructions, the library was easily found. the walls filled to brim with all types of books from fairytales to encyclopedias on insects and ladders at every corner to aid with the books at the very top shelf that was too high for even the tallest of humans. the centre of the room held plush sofas and chairs clearly carefully chosen for the purpose of being able to read enjoyably.

hyejin's eyes fixed themselves onto a figure, not much taller than the 3rd shelf, desperately trying to grab at a book that was just out of his reach. his tiptoes only doing so much to increase his height, the girl scoffed in amusement at the sight in front of her and strolled over to the black-haired boy.

'need a hand?'

she hadn't meant for there to be a snarky tone however the words which tumbled out appeared as condescending when in reality she had just wanted the tiny boy who had yet to have a growth spurt.

'who are you? i don't need any help.'

his brows were furrowed together and his voice filled with defensiveness - hyejin thought to herself that it would be entertaining to watch this stuck up boy act in a childish manner.

going against the prideful boy's wishes, she reached over his head to slide the book that he wanted out of the bookshelf.

it wasn't long before reams and reams of disgruntled refusals came flowing out his mouth.

'get out of my way'

well, he was certainly direct with the way he spoke and with his words.

'you're in the way-'

the exasperated boy did not get to finish his second rude remark before being smacked on the face by the book which he had so urgently wanted.

this is what you most definitely call karma.

'you should mind your manners kiddo'.

it barely took a second before an ear-splitting screech encompassed the whole house.

─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─