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afro-elf · 4 years

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fine, i’ll elaborate on my thoughts about tylor sift but they will be disorganized

disclaimer: i know a few people will read this and be like “op is a hozier fan can she really talk about the cultural obsession with mediocre white art?” and the answer is yes because a) i’m black and i have an english degree so can do whatever i fucking want, b) hozier is a better artist than taylor objectively, like his mediocre tracks would be considered her great ones, and c) the comparison of taylor to hozier is part of the problem Genuinely because i don’t even think white people like half the music they listen to, they just don’t wanna be left behind, we’ll get into this later. i’m sorry to everyone who is tired of hearing about him but hozier will be returning later in this post jsfglsjlgldsjlfd

second note: read this

i don’t just dislike taylor because she’s white. i don’t dislike taylor because she’s a woman. i don’t dislike her because she writes mean and petty lyrics about past relationships and people who wronged her. i don’t dislike taylor because her public circle of friends is almost exclusively blonde white celebrities with their own laundry lists of issues that includes ryan reynolds and blake lively who are poster children for white privilege and pseudo-excellence if i’ve ever seen them. i dislike taylor because the amalgamation of all of those things is so exemplary of a huge problem i have with the music industry in general but also like american society

fuck it, numbered list!

1. taylor swift consistently releases the same mediocre album but in different colors. every album is the same lyrically and tonally. her body of work rarely goes very far above “good for taylor swift”. folklore as both title and musical aesthetic is irrelevant to the actual content of the album, which is just every taylor swift album except set to folk pop and with a bit more cussing, congrats for baby’s first swear. i’ve seen folklore compared to much better bodies of work and even propped up by stans as album of the year, a distinction that rina sawayama and chloe x halle will be battling it out for if there is any justice in the world at all. the fact that she is allowed to do this and still be considered great when this is something that even white male artists are butchered critically for... astounds me. like we all know how well received all of coldplay’s similar sounding albums are.... Come on.

2. i don’t think taylor or her work is particularly feminist and yet for some reason every time she frowns an army of white women brings her kleenex. i’m not saying taylor’s anger has always been unjustified, but her feminism to me has always felt like “i can do whatever a man can do” feminism, which is utterly fucking useless to me as a black woman. it’s only useful to her because as a wealthy, white, straight, cis white woman her ONLY obstacle in life is her gender. and if she just didn’t have that tricky little bitch then maybe people would take her seriously. like, just think about her music video for the man... what was the thesis of that? what was the point of that? with all of her privileges she’d just be gaining a single extra privilege. she’s a blonde blue eyed thin white girl, the world kisses her feet. i have no interest in proving myself any better or any worse than white men, they are not the standard for how a person should be treated, they’re cautionary tales, and white women are too. i think taylor capitalizes off of white woman victimhood, and it’s all over her writing style. even when she’s trying to be empowered, like in mad woman for example, there is this tone to it of victimization, poking the bear, unleashing the beast if you will. she invokes the imagery of salem witches and even more boldly chooses a noose to write about in the song which is..... surely going to be a white tumblr staple for many gifsets to come but holy shit is it hollow. she also tends to come back to teenage memories in her music and she’s thirty. i don’t think about being seventeen unless i’m being held at gunpoint but she seems to think about it All The Time. and part of this is to keep herself young, at least in her music, which only further ingrains this image of fragile teeny bopper taylor into the mind of the listener, fueling her victim image. this imagery and language means nothing because the world always rallies around taylor. even when she was the butt of jokes for not being beyonce (which she is not and never can be) and writing about her exes (which she does), she was largely supported by the industry and by critics. look at how many fucking awards she has!

3. folk and indie and alternative music is in a moment of transition, where musicians of color are getting the chance to really speak about how they’ve been treated in these overwhelmingly white circles and create their own standards and their own voices. and for taylor swift to swoop in with aaron dessner and jack antonoff fantano and almost reassert that mid-2010s indie sound as The Sound of folk pop in the popular consciousness.... it makes me violent! it! makes! me! violent!

4. back to hozier! finally, i wanna talk about white standom, fandom, bandom, and womandom. i often see these very superficial comparisons between hozier and taylor (and hozier and florence and hozier and stevie nicks and hozier and whatever other white woman in fashion) and they frustrate me for more than one reason. i know that hozier has met taylor and said she’s cool, which is nice of him and he’s a nice man, but i’m not a nice man so i’m going to just say it: none of the people who have made those posts have listened to more than four hozier songs and it shows. the reason why this matters is because these posts catch on and create an image and preconception of hozier’s music that is divorced from reality and divorced from his influences and most importantly divorced from the deliberate and reverent blackness of his musical style. hozier has his white male privilege in the industry for sure but he’s not as towering of a giant as taylor and taylor’s music is an unsalted chicken, plain oatmeal, white paint drying on a white wall, a stick of unflavored gum. her music is so white it told me that its dad is a cop. i am, as a black hozier fan, exhausted with having to share space with white women who don’t know why hozier’s music kicks me in my lungs sometimes and think that taylor mentioning a tree ONCE in her 3 minute acoustic guitar slog about whatever suburb is the same when it simply is not. i swear some of you are pretending to love taylor because your friends love her and you don’t wanna be left out of the hot new musical discourse but she’s only the hot new musical discourse CONSTANTLY because she’s a white woman, she’s almost the Perfect white woman. like if someone asked me to describe a white woman, it would be taylor swift. her position at the top of the musical pyramid among people who eclipse her musically, vocally, and lyrically is only allowed because she’s The Perfect White Woman. she’s an ideal. white girls relate to her immediately because of it and now we have this unshakable mob of unbearable white women who think that the world has wronged someone who literally wrote fanfiction about the rich oil heiress white woman who owned her rhode island mansion before her aklghlghdhlgs it drives me fucking NUTS

anyway that’s all. if you made it this far, listen to adia victoria, kaia kater, samantha crain, valerie june, kelsey lu, corinne bailey rae, brittany howard, kimya dawson, japanese breakfast, cold specks, left at london, rhiannon giddens, aisha badru, shea diamond, nadine shah, xenia rubinos, karen o, mirel wagner.... Anyone

#me #taylor swift meanie hour #long post

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arcturus-ish · 3 years

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I think it's pretty obvious who I'm talking about specifically, but if you're still confused: yes, this is partially about the ProtectAnaFlores blog, but also at anyone who's going after people for not liking Ana Flores (particularly people with CP who have a valid reason not to). I didn't like Ana Flores. While I am disabled, I don't have CP and so I wanted to listen to the input of people who do and since they all spoke about her being ableist I was able to recognize her ableism myself and decide that she wasn't a character I should support. If you don't have CP, you don't really have the authority to say whether someone who was ableist towards a character with CP was actually ableist to them because of it or not- even if you are disabled, because it's different. I will never know what it's like to have CP or how people would treat me because of it- I am physically-abled passing anyway, so I don't experience that kind of ableism much; I will never know what it's like, so I trust people who do when they talk about it because THEY are the only ones who WOULD. "If you don't like Ana Flores you're a misogynist." If you're a cis gay guy- you're not really qualified to lead conversations about misogyny, considering you have never-and will never- experience it; you actually thrive off of it, like any other cis man. Should you be an ally and call it out? Definitely. Do you know more than afab people, who experience it every single day? absolutely not. Not liking Ana does not make me misogynistic, just like liking/defending her does not wholly absolve you of not being misogynistic. If you group afab people who don't identify as women (i.e, nonbinary people) with women in your mind, purely because they're afab and not because it's what they identify as, then you kind of suck. Cis gays have been known to be almost as (if not just as) transphobic as cis straight people and I'm tired of seeing it. While I agree that there are a lot of women in fandom spaces that fetishize mlm relationships (I've been fetishized a LOT for being a trans and queer person- I know how disgusting it is), labelling every single Buddie shipper as "a white woman or afab enby who fetishizes gay men" is... wrong. I'm afab, transmasc and agender, but I label myself loosely as mlm and so being grouped in with women purely because of what I was assigned at birth, and not because of my actual gender identity, when it comes to appreciating mlm relationships feels borderline transphobic. Non-binary people can be gay for men too, and even if they're not, maybe they see themselves in Buck/Eddie and so their relationship means something to them? The other (canon) couples, whether they be straight or queer, mean a lot to me as well- literally every person I follow or have interacted with about 911 loves the other queer/BIPOC representation just as much and more often than not is queer and/or BIPOC themselves. (this is NOT dismissing the fact that A LOT of the 911/Buddie part of the fandom is racist, ableist, misogynistic and has people who fetishize queerness as a whole. I acknowledge that and hate those people just as much as most of us do-same for the cishet people who make spaces like this unsafe for us queer people- but I'm not addressing that right now.) Call people out on their bullshit if it's spreading harm and/or misinformation, absolutely, but don't harass and bully a bunch of people (some of which are literal MINORS) for finding comfort in Buddie when there's no reason to other than they like these two together. You've called me "pathetic and 100% the worst" for doing absolutely nothing before, simply because you caught onto the fact that I enjoy Buddie. Aren't you doing the same exact thing you hate Buddie shippers for? Seems fairly hypocritical, but I guess you're the only person who gets to call people out on that... because you're a gay guy.

#anti ana flores #I don't mean to be rude or seem angry #but if you are harming people and then getting mad at them for supposedly doing the same thing #you're not any better #I just wanted to get my thoughts about it out because people like that are exhausting #911 discourse #ableism #PLEASE feel free to talk to me if I have ever said anything offensive #I do not want to be held unaccountable for any mistakes I have made or hurt I have inflicted on others #also stop throwing the word abuse around so loosely

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b0x · 4 years

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😔 some Thoughts on the Trans Experience under the cut that i wanna vent out bc of some posts ive seen around that just kinda didnt sit right with me i guess

every time someone on here is like “trans men cannot experience eldest/only daughter trauma bc they are men and are therefore experiencing transphobic trauma” it’s like... man, gender is way too complex to be so cut & dry about a topic like this. many trans men grew up experiencing the traumas of being a daughter And being a trans man daughter, both pre-transition and post. saying that isn’t saying “trans men are actually women because they experienced this women’s trauma” it’s just recognising that many traumas overlap, regardless of gender. i know it comes from a supportive place, validating us as real men, but that should include validating our unique experiences too.

i hope this makes sense, but a trans-man-daughter is still 100% a man, still 100% a son, but is very different to and does not have the same experience as a trans-man-son. and a trans-man-daughter doesn’t mean “a trans man raised as a daughter because they didn’t know they were trans at the time”, or “a trans man raised as a daughter by a homophobic parent even after coming out and already knowing they are trans”. no, a trans-man-daughter can still also be a trans man raised as a son with 100% support, because a parent’s trauma can still pass on regardless of the circumstance, because a trans person’s relationship with themselves and their own gender and body and mind is so unique and one-of-a-kind that we were practically designed to overlap the many gendered concepts that so many gatekeep as a sense of empowerment.

and it sucks making our own posts/experience sometimes, because they never feel like “our own”? because they all come from traumas and bigotry that have already been boxed and labelled and sorted into sections, and to be someone who has bits and pieces from all those different boxes/sections? a trans person can, for example, experience misogyny one year and then transmisogyny the next and that doesnt make the misogyny the prior year “actually transmisogyny”, it was still misogyny that was experienced, even if it’s later relabeled as “transmisogyny”. if anything that just makes it TWO kinds of misogyny experienced instead of just one. it’s terribly confusing. and trust me, for every cis person confused by a trans concept, i can almost guarantee you it’s just as confusing for the trans person themselves. and this isn’t also me saying that ohh trans people have it worse because we experience Double the bigotry and trauma - no absolutely not. i just think it’s important for people to realise that there are people who will experience both misogyny And transmisogyny and that in itself creates its own new kind of bigotry/trauma experienced, if that makes sense?

of course, i don’t speak for every single trans man, but it’s a very specific kind of transphobia a lot of us experience that ties in directly with eldest/only daughter trauma, and why we relate to and connect with posts like that, even when they’re aimed specifically at those who identify primarily as women.

and on top of all that, i see quite a few of the same trans man “supporters” who say “trans men can’t experience daughter’s traumas because they’re men” do complete 180s and say that trans women can’t experience eldest/only daughter trauma bc their transphobia doesn’t correlate with “womanhood” at the source, because trauma that sons/men/male at birth experience is different to the trauma that daughters/women/female at birth experience, which is.. horrifically and bewilderingly transmisogynistic, transphobic, alienating, and just.. Shocking. shocking that these two points can be somehow made in the same breath together without any of them realising what they’re saying.

it’s like.. this weird group of people who are somehow both the opposite of and exactly the same as terfs? theyre more like... tirfs - trans Inclusionary radical feminists - the people who treat trans men like a substitute for the “effeminate cis gay best friend”, the one’s who will validate your masculinity but not entirely consider you a 100% guy, latching onto that “biological fact” of trans men being “female at birth” and therefore considering you more of a “sister” than a “brother”, regardless of them knowing and understanding that you are a man. i guess its kind of very similar to the transphobes who make awful comments that nonbinary people are just closeted lesbians/gays?

anyway, yes, many traumas are gendered due to binaries designated by society and a misogynistic and men-restricting patriarchy (and many other factors that all play parts in this whole big system such as religion and the upper class), but traumas are traumas, and honestly shouldn’t be gendered, because they all overlap regardless, and can be experienced by anyone if the exact circumstances are met. that and every single trans experience is so unique and so so complex because gender in itself is an extremely unique and complex concept that it just cannot in any way be monitored or labelled into strict rules and laws and binaries.

every time i see a post on here about womanhood and daughter traumas and cis women’s misogynistic experiences and hell even a lot of lesbian traumas/experiences, i find myself completely and entirely relating to many of them every single time even though i am 100% a trans guy, and half grew up as a son. and i guess it’s just kind of weird but not so weird because sure while some days it just feels like im not calling myself a true trans guy, most days its just me validating and relating to an experience that i had that was unique to me and doesnt necessarily mean that im a woman because of it

because womanhood and manhood are temperaments, traits we are either born with or without, traits that are ever-changing and developing as we evolve generation by generation. anyone can pick up or be born with parts of womanhood and/or manhood. like that’s what makes all of us so unique, not a single one of us are alike in any way shape or form because of that. the combinations are always unlimited. so it’s just dumb seeing stuff like that gatekeeped. you cant Own an Experience like thats... what the hell is going on. every time its always the same thing, everyone’s always tryna play god in some way, be it mastering themselves, their own emotions and life, or controlling others, dictating what they think how certain things should be etc

it’s like that one post that’s like everything would be so much simpler if everyone was bi and nothing was gendered ghadjgdkgj

idk.. just.. to gender conceptual things like gender and traits and personalities and traumas is just so... unhelpful and unopen to change and not fluid whatsoever as theyre supposed to be. i dont wanna be all “nothing is real” abt it all but labels and binaries and decided systems and set laws are literally the reason, since the beginning of time, for wars and bigotry and oppression and poverty and the whole shebang. bc Someone decided one day that being a woman means this this and that, and being trans means that and this and that, and those meanings will be the basis we will rewrite occasionally and maybe add to, instead of completely scrapping our whole outdated initial ideas about it bla bla bla.

im just tired gender is weird and stupid why are we arguing why are we so protective like just have a convo man rule with curiosity not adamancy and you’ll be sooo much happier trust me

#feel free to reblog or chat abt idk

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omgchristinahasablog · 4 years

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Feminism, Interrupted: Disrupting Power By Lola Olufemi

This is the second book written by Lola Olufemi, the former Women’s Officer for the University of Cambridge. Before even reading the first page I was excited to read this book since Lola is someone who I have looked up to for a while. I have always admired how confident and outspoken she is, qualities which I want to improve in myself. However, don’t worry, this review won’t be me fan-girling over Lola. Instead I’ll focus on what I thought about this book. I think it’s important to clarify my background: I am a medical student with hardly any knowledge of sociology (I took a sociology minor this year on health, medicine and society). I’m currently on a journey to become more knowledgeable about feminism and racism and social politics in general. This book is an excellent starting point. It offers a comprehensive and well-explained account of many major feminist concerns in the current day. What makes it stand out from other books, and the reason why I reached for it first is because that it looks at these concerns in a British context. This is important. So many books look at many social issues in a USA context, and these issues are important and are interesting to read and learn - as Lola points out in her penultimate chapter, solidarity matters:

“When we show solidarity to one another, we are demonstrating that we recognise that politics happens everywhere, at every level, in every region of the world. We break open the idea that feminism has a continental origin point; to recognise each other in struggle is to say, I see you , I understand that you have agency and because I cannot stand alongside you, I wish to bolster you from where I am.”

Whilst solidarity is important, many American issues do not easily translate into a British context especially since Britain has its own difficult and complex history to contend with. This book offers a way to bridge a gap and say to people “See! Britain is not a ‘post-racial’ society as people so often wrongly claim. Britain has its problems with race and these issues intersect with gender, sexuality, sex, migration status and other parts of women’s identities, creating a whole host of pressing and urgent problems in our society.”

Each chapter discusses the theory behind modern feminist issues. This book rejects the ideas of liberal feminism for this feminism does not account for the most vulnerable and disadvantaged in our society such as undocumented migrants, poor women, single mothers, transwomen and women of colour. Lola rejects the ideology of TERFs (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists). The necessity for trans- inclusion in feminist movements is apparent in the Black Lives Matter movement at the moment. Black transwomen and men are being killed at the hands of police, yet they are receiving disproportionately less media coverage compared to their cis, heterosexual black male counterparts (e.g. George Floyd).

I particularly like the structure of this book: each chapter can be read on its own. However, I do recommend reading the whole book to gain the full narrative. This book has enabled me to understand radical ideas in a truly accessible way. From prison abolition to the decriminalisation of sex work and from the removal of borders to discussions of consent, Feminism, Interrupted covers feminist issues at the level of the individual, nation state and the world. A stand-out chapter for me is Chapter 7 “Complicating consent: How to support sex workers.” Lola argues that “we must refuse the idea that consent is easy”. It’s easy to fall into the idea that “yes means yes, and no means no” but that is not how consent is in practice. A person may say “yes” when they mean “no” but the safest option for them to say is yes, or they were not fully informed and so said yes to something they were not aware of. Consent is nuanced - we need to move away from the notion that consent is a binary option. consent is not easy. Choices are often not made freely but under coercion from oppressive structures.

To conclude (as I’ve gotten tired of writing), this book is a first stop for you people on your journey towards radical feminism. I know that the combination of Black Lives Matter and the health inequalities amplified by COVID-19 has definitely created a hunger in me for books like this on social justice. I was able to access this book online on iDiscover so for other Cambridge students I would just download it from there. Otherwise, this book is available for purchase from Pluto Books.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my first book review. Let me know what you think or if you have any recommendations for books I should read. Over the summer I’ll be writing more reviews of books I read. I read quite varied books so you can expect reviews of non-fiction and fiction books covering a wide range of topics.

Anyways, peace x

#feminism #feminisminterrupted #books #book review #university of cambridge #lola olufemi #consent #social justice #race #reproductive justice #prison abolition #trans-inclusionary feminism #student #medical student #race equality #blacklivesmatter

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flamewyrmz · 6 years

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a late night rant from twitter im putting in one place, because its a trainwreck of several threads there. mostly copy/paste and still not proofread, but a collection of thoughts on gender, sexuality, personal identity, and love and support within the lgbtq community. i do really lay myself bare here so id like to ask that if you disagree or have criticism you do so respectfully and with that in mind, thank you <3 and if this means something to you itd mean the world to me if you shared it

dunno if ive said this here before but like. if you think you might be bi/pan but youre on the fence cos maybe youve never had a crush on a nonfictional guy or get more crushes on guys than on girls and you find yourself tied up in knots like "well im gay but im also attracted to nonbinary people unless theyre mostly woman-aligned but i dont wanna say im bi/pan because then people will think i like girls and like i like them theoretically but--" let go. just say fuck it! im bi/pan!

try it out and if it doesnt feel right it doesnt feel right and thats fine and in the end no matter what youll have learned a little about yourself. this is actually my advice on any gender/sexuality dilemmas you might be having. go wild. try it out. see how it feels. dont feel like you have to confine yourself to something just because youve stuck with it for some amount of time.

if youre questioning dive right into the deep end! no matter how it goes youll be a better swimmer in the end. its all not quite rigid and a little fluid anyways (for some more than others obv) so if youre unsure, man... go for it. its ok to backpedal

this is important advice to me because ive struggled with it multiple times in the past and this has only recently clicked and i really wish it had sooner. first it was with being... not straight in general. like i was actively dating someone of the same gender and i never considered that that meant, uh, im not straight. always "do you like boys or girl?" "uhhhhhhhhh. uh. UH"

then with being in the range of aro/ace spect. then with being nonbinary! then with being nb but primarily male. and then goddammit im just a boy. accepting that God I Love Men And Only Men (and with it that i *wasnt* aro or ace in ANY capacity) and then, very recently (like up until a couple months ago. like im p sure this year. not 2017), going back on that and admitting i was bi. it is so so freeing to just say "fuck it" and test those waters!

hell, you find something you resonate with but looks a little silly? go for it! use those bun/buns/bunself pronouns. go with stargender! ace-flux demibiromantic? hell yeah rock that shit! it can always change and you can always decide its not right and go back! h4y dudes

all of that especially goes for teens who dont know what the fuck theyre doing. im only 20 yea and barely 20 at that but man i wish id heard this sooner

and please dont take that as me saying "well if youre a lesbian sexuality is fluid and maybe youre actually bi"! hell no. if youre a lesbian and you KNOW youre and lesbian and couldnt ever be anything else then rock on you funky little lesbian! but if you id as a lesbian but are teetering on something like "well im attracted to some fictional and theoretical men but not any real ones and maybe its just compulsory heterosexuality but im not sure and--" dont be afraid to try a different label. its all what feels right to you and theres absolutely no harm

people bash on like. """mogai genders""" and nounself pronouns and the split attraction model and all that and like. yeah! those things can hurt people! personally i struggled with the split attraction bit combined with how broadly people define the ace spectrum. it can be used to hurt. and it is used to hurt. sometimes its deliberate, sometimes its not. but the hurt is there. but its not inherently good or bad.

and yeah, some of it sounds silly. hell, it sounds silly to me sometimes! but to some people hearing that label makes everything click into place, even if just for a little bit, and i take that very seriously. it is one of the best feelings in the world and i want as many lgbtq people (of any age) to experience it.

for some people it feels right to zoom waaaaaaay in and section it into lots of little bits and for others its "fuck it! i dont know shit! im just queer!" and those are both equally valid (that words been thru 12 garbage disposals but i cant think of a better one) maybe you go back n forth and thats fine too! as long as youre open to it changing or being wrong it cant hurt and, like i said, its one of the best possible feelings to have it click like that

as an aside: being bi can *totally* mean "im attracted to men and nonbinary people are long are they arent primarily woman-aligned" or it can mean "im attracted to everyone fuck it" personally? i use bi over pan because i feel like it better encapsulates that i *do* have preferences (i say this all the time but God I Love Men) but ultimately gender doesnt really matter to me cos everyones cute and hot and generally attractive and im not leaving anyone out because im just a little more inclined to kissing boys. but thats me!

as Another aside: i do still to some degree identify with uhh this is gonna sound contradictory but agender boy? or more like boy agender? boygender with left none? i just dont personally feel like its worth taking the time to explain over n over. but it used to be, for me, n i dont regret that a single bit! i wouldnt regret that even if i *didnt* still feel that way in any capacity. honestly?

i dont regret any of the ways ive identified in the past even though feeling stuck and cornered into some got a little harmful to me (and if youve gone through somethin similar and DO regret it and wish youd never heard whatever term you used thats good too. im very strongly advocating for "use whatever labels you want and if it dont fit it dont fit" here but if they did hurt you and youre still hurting about it i understand 100% just dont use it to pull others down. if it concerns you say your piece and let them decide)

this is personally a little hard to admit so bear with me here

honestly? ANY sort of strong identity didnt start developing in me until i was.... 14 or so? and very slowly at that. like gender evened out around 18 and sexuality just a few months ago LMAO. but up until i was a teenager i didnt really feel much of anything re: gender or attraction (and the attraction thing is pretty normal for kids and even teens tbqh!)

and i just.... didnt really think about it! i had This Name and apparently was a girl and i didnt really get what it was like to BE a girl but thats what people said and i didnt know there were other options so i went with it! the name didnt bother me either (except for when people made jokes about a Certain Historical Figure with the same one. just thinking about that i get tired)

and when it came time to actually grapple with the whole concept of being *into* people i just kinda... slunk away! no joke until like 10th grade if someone started a rumor that i was dating x or y had a crush on me i would start to avoid them entirely. lost a friend in 4th grade that way but then in hs hed turned into a TOTAL DICK so no loss there. i think part of that was also people making the assumption that i was straight though? big shrug!

i didnt even realize attraction was a thing i had until i got asked out and just kind of "oh wow??? that sounds so nice??? i feel the same??? yes??" and thats WHY i went thru varying aro/ace labels. cos it unfolded slowly (which again is totally normal if youre a teenager, so dont worry about it if youre going thru that. roll with the punches. and if youre a teen and youve got it figured out? thats totally normal too!)

and the gender thing was similar once i learned that it was an actual possibility (especially being nb, and ESPECIALLY especially being agender) i slowly just... poked at it until i figured something out (fun fact: what set me off to finally go "fuck it im not a girl at all" was being stuck in an awful hair salon chair while my mom got a haircut that took FOREVERRRRRRRRR and i was having godawful period cramps. like i knew not being a girl wouldnt DO anything about them but i made that decision then n there n didnt look back!)

and then i kept pokin at it and watching it like the seed id planted finally started to sprout and i realized i didnt actually know what kind of seed it WAS. i guess ive always been very nebulous in those aspects and its just now forming into something solid. like i said, its a little hard to admit and i... dont think ive actually talked about this in this depth before to, like, anyone?

because the "oh ive always known" narrative is the only one you ever see in popular media and sometimes even from the community itself! and theres nothing wrong with having always known! but theres also nothing wrong with being like me! but i still feel a little anxious talking about it like it somehow means im a sham.

hell, id even go so far as to say i WAS a girl as a kid! i WAS varying shades of agender and nonbinary and ???? as a teen, and i AM, like, 95% a guy right now! maybe in a few years ill be something else. none of those things contradict each other. things like that can change! its not set in stone (but like i said: for some people it is! or, like, set in slime that you left out for 5 years so now its pretty much a rock but if you really try it still squishes into something else?? none of these things invalidate the others! were all unique).

i wouldnt say that at any point ive been cis or straight, cos even when i just went with being a girl and stuff it was always a little ??? but, yknow. even if i HAD been those things at some point it wouldnt matter to me? things just are the way they are and were the way they were

im making myself really vulnerable here and my thought process is a mess and i ramble and repeat myself and my memory and attention span is like 2 seconds and i dont proofread but. its important i think. i dont have a lot of followers and fewer still thatre active but... that really doesnt matter.

maybe someone will retweet at least one of these messy, messy threads. maybe link it to a friend. maybe screenshot it and post it on tumblr [note: LMAO YEAH AND ITS YOU DUMBASS], or to keep for themself. if any of my words help anyone out even a little then it matters and honestly? then its the most important thing in the whole danged world. if even one person sees any of the things ive said tonight and it means *anything* to them, even if just "oh, im not alone in this" then ive succeeded here.

i dont want any of us to ever feel trapped or alone because shit! lifes too fuckin short for that! its goddamn hard being anything but cisgender and straight! sometimes it sucks! like really sucks! there have been so many times ive broken down completely over being trans and felt like, for myself, its the most awful thing in the world. its why prides so important. its why community is so important.

because even when the pressure of the world brings you down so low you think youll never escape theres something or someone there to take your hand and pull you back up, put you on your feet, and say "i know its hard. and itll get hard again. but i believe in you, and youre strong enough for this, and im here with you through every step". that goes for anyone but especially goes for us. and im not just talking about lgbtq youth here. all of us. which is *why* im laying myself completely bare here.

most of this stuff? ive either never talked about or only vaguely mentioned. but im putting it out there. because there was a point where i needed it but didnt have it, and even if its just one person, i want to give someone this advice so at least they dont have to deal with the same stuff i did. and if youre reading this? i love you. im here for you. im my dms are always open and if for some reason they arent its almost definitely an accident and if you say something ill reopen them.

and if youre someone who hates me? maybe even mutually? if it came down to it id let you come to me at your lowest moment, no questions asked, no judgement held, and at the end of it still be the same kind of enemies we were before and never speak again. there are some exceptions of course but honestly ill forgive a lot for someone who needs that kind of support. and if youre one of the people this applies to, i know youll probably never take me up on it. i dont expect you to. i dont expect you to even for a second be comfortable with that idea. thats fine. but if for some reason you ever need it, its there.

i can count on one hand the ex friends that i wouldnt give that to and thats ONLY because theyve legitimately hurt me and left lasting damage (and for some of them? its mutual. and im sorry for that, regardless of how i feel about your treatment of me im truly sorry for my actions. that probably sounds fake and anyway i digress)

and if youre a complete stranger? someone who follows me but has never interacted with anything ive posted? a mutual i havent spoken to yet? im here. and im bumbling, and awkward, and not the best at comfort but you can always come to me if you need someone. im only one man and im under a lot of stress but i swear ill do the best i can, even if its only reading and replying 3 days later and even then just listening and offer whatever gentle comfort or reassurance youll accept.

because thats important to me. thats the impact i want to leave on this world. i dont ever want anyone to feel as small, as scared, as worthless, as alone as i have. im no fighter. im not going to lead any revolutions and hell im too anxious to even go to protests but im here for support. im here to help and heal. and thats important too

and if you listened to that? thank you. if you just skimmed? thank you for that too. if you shared it with someone? thank you (so much). and if you dont? thank you anyways, just for the time

just know this: i love you. i dont care who you are, if youre reading this i love you and im behind you 100%. im here if you need it. stay strong, do something that makes you smile if only for a moment. take that leap of faith. dont restrict yourself for even a second

i meant to go to bed at least two hours ago so goodnight <3 be safe, drink some water, if you have any kind of pet give it some love. take care of yourself. youre the most important person in your own world and never forget that, even if you dont think you are. even if theres something or someone you treasure above everything else. dont diminish your own worth! you are alive, and you are here, and theres nothing more important than that, really. the things you love matter more than anything else. hold them close

#sorry for all the linebreaks i want this to be as easy to process as possible #this is definitely ok to reblog and if you feel even the slightest urge to i encourage it

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psychepng · 7 years

Text

don’t wait, or say a single vow

Amy Santiago had always planned her life down to the very minute. However, she never planned on her boyfriend, Teddy, proposing. She didn't plan on meeting a stranger who convinced her to accept proposal, and she definitely didn't plan on accidentally having that same stranger help her run away from her wedding, either.

read here on ao3 or below the cut!

As Amy watched the smoke leave her mouth and disappear into the cold night, all she could think about was the ring. It was simple, the kind of ring that she would have picked out for herself. A simple gold band and a large princess cut diamond in the center, with two almost miniscule diamonds on it side.

She’d found the ring while putting away Teddy’s laundry one night. The box had been stuffed in a poorly hidden sock, and Amy hadn’t been able to contain her curiosity. She pulled out the velvet box and stared at the ring, wondering when Teddy would propose and what it would mean for her.

Kylie had screamed when Amy told her about it.

But Amy didn’t know how she felt.

She had buried the ring back in the sock and stuffed the sock at the drawer. She buried the idea of the ring in the back of her mind, telling herself that they didn’t have fancy dinner plans until the next month, and that Teddy would never do any sort of extravagant surprise proposal at work or at home, and that she’d have time.

Time went by too fast. The dinner plans came, and as she and Teddy made small talk at the table, Amy noticed that Teddy had one hand tightly gripping a fork and the other glued to his pocket. With her voice shaking, she told Teddy that she needed to go to the bathroom. Instead, she went out the restaurant’s back door and stood in the alley next to the restaurant, stress smoking and trying to decide if she was really going to marry Teddy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw a male figure walking towards her. She threw her cigarette on the ground and. smashed it with her heel. One hand reached reached for the travel size can of pepper spray she always kept in her jacket pocket, and the other curled itself into a fist.

“Whoa, no need to get all violent,” the man said.

“I’m sorry,” Amy said. “It was a force of habit.” She relaxed her body and let go of the can of pepper spray.

“Yeah, men are garbage and the world is terrible,” the man said. Amy could detect no irony or artifice in his voice, simply humor. He wasn’t a dudebro making fun of her defensive stance. He was just being nice.

“I totally agree with you there,” Amy said.

“Then what are you doing out here, all alone, in the dark?” the man asked. “I could just be pretending to be nice. I could be a serial killer. I could be the Oolong Slayer.”

“Technically, the Oolong slayer kills people in their own homes.” Amy said proudly. “I don’t think he does alleyways. Besides, he was caught last month by Captain Raymond Holt.”

“I’m impressed, though you forgot to mention that he was assisted by the world’s greatest detective slash genius, Jake Peralta.” the man said. He pointed at himself when he said Jake Peralta.

“You’re a detective? So am I.” Amy held out her hand for Jake to shake. “Amy Santiago, six-two.”

“Noice. Jake Peralta, nine-nine.” Jake shook Amy’s hand. “So what’s a detective smoking in an alley for anyways?”

“My boyfriend is going to propose,” Amy said. She leaned her back against the wall. “He’s perfect, but I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

“Then don’t say yes.”

“But he’s perfect. He’s kind, and he’s sweet, and we’ve already planned out our lives together. We basically like everything the other likes. The only thing I don’t like is that he talks about pilsners too much.”

“If he’s so great, then marry him.”

“What would you do?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know anything about you, or your boyfriend, but I know that I’m getting super sick of getting stood up for dates and having to call my date, like a loser. If your boyfriend is as perfect as he seems, then I’d marry him.”

Amy sighed. “You’re right. Teddy’s great, and I love him. I’m being crazy.”

“Wait, his name is Teddy? Are we sure that he’s just not a stuffed bear you’re pretending is a real boyfriend?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Always like what?”

“Serious one moment, then weird the next?”

“That’s the Peralta way.” Amy laughed.

“Well thanks, Peralta. Thanks for telling me what I needed to hear.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

Amy nodded. “I think so.” She turned and started walking towards the back door of the restaurant. As she walked away, she heard Jake Peralta yelling encouragements at her back.

“Have fun! Remember to wear a condom! I heard engagement sex is great!”

Amy didn't see Jake again until months later, at her rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. The small party for family and friends was held in the restaurant of the hotel where Amy and Teddy had booked their reception.

The evening began at 6:00. Dinner wouldn’t be served until 7:00. Until then, Teddy walked around the room, charming Amy’s brothers. Teddy was an only child, and Amy had already met his parents. In contrast, Amy came from a big family. Teddy had already met Amy’s parents and two of her brothers, but the other five still had to be won over.

As Teddy walked around, Amy sat in between her mom and Teddy’s, downing champagne as she tried to politely answer questions on when she and Teddy would be having kids.

It wasn’t like Amy didn’t want kids. She loved kids. But her life plan hadn’t included children for another few years. She knew that Teddy wanted kids, but she’d never imagined what having kids with him would be like. She’d never felt the need to. But she wasn’t about to say that to Charlotte Wells, Teddy’s mother.

Her saving grace was her waiter. His name tag was inscribed with “Paul”, he had an extremely thick, almost fake-looking mustache, and every few minutes, he walked by Amy’s seat and replaced her emptied glass of champagne with another one.

“...as I was saying. If you and Teddy want to conceive a girl, you absolutely have to keep real good track of your ovulation schedule,” Charlotte Wells said.

“Don’t worry, my Amy is amazing with schedules,” Amy’s mother, Teresa said.

“Amy, dear,” Charlotte began. She grabbed Amy’s forearm. Amy prayed that she wasn’t about to give her some sort of advice for which sex position was best for conceiving a boy. “Regardless of what gender your children are, I know that you and Teddy are going to have the most amazing children.”

“Really?” Amy asked. She raised an eyebrow.

“Of course! You two are perfect together!” Charlotte exclaimed. Amy cringed. “You two are so well-matched, so intelligent, and so organized. I’m pretty sure your child will come out of the womb with its taxes done!” Charlotte and Teresa laughed boisterously at the thought. Amy’s laughs were hollow in comparison.

“The kid will grow up drinking pilsners, if Teddy has anything to do with it,” Teresa said.

“That’s the best part, with Teddy’s new pilsner business, there will be extra income for a baby.” Charlotte stated.

“P-Pilsner business?” Amy asked.

“Oh, I was supposed to keep that a secret. Oh well, the cat’s already out of the bag, so telling you all about it won’t hurt,” Charlotte began. “Teddy told me that he struck a deal with a local bar to sell his homemade pilsners. Can you believe that? My son. A detective and an entrepreneur.”

“That’s… amazing.” Amy said. There were two roads forming in her head. One, Teddy’s pilsner project becomes wildly successful. He’s out of the house more often, making more deals. When he comes home, he’s so tired of talking about pilsners that Amy will never have to hear about them again. Amazing. Two, Teddy’s pilsner project becomes somewhat successful, and he will not stop talking about it. Amy comes homes to pilsners, pilsners, and more pilsners. There’s more money for kids, a bigger apartment maybe? Amazing, amazing, amazing.

Not amazing at all.

Across the room, Amy saw Paul the waiter serving a margarita to one of her brothers. As he turned around, she locked eyes with him. She hoped that somehow, he could read her needs and bring her a whole bottle of champagne.

Charlotte and Teresa continued talking about Amy and Teddy’s hypothetical children as Amy prayed.

Ten minutes later, Paul came over to Amy’s table. He held a tray carrying three glasses of champagne. As he placed one glass down on the table, the tray on his hand slipped. The two remaining glasses fell onto Amy’s lap, and then rolled to the floor.

“I am so sorry, ma’am!” Paul exclaimed. Amy stood up. Teresa and Charlotte both grabbed napkins and started dabbing at Amy’s dress. Amy shooed their hands away.

“It’s fine, I can handle this,” Amy said. She walked towards the restaurant’s bathroom as Paul began cleaning up the mess.

The bathroom was empty. Inside, Amy stood in front of the mirror, trying to make the stain disappear with cheap paper towels and the electric dryer. The stain on her dress was beginning to fade when Paul walked in.

“Just wanted to come in here and apologize and see how you were doing.” Paul said. “Is it empty in here?”

“Yeah, but get out! This is the ladies’ room!” Amy shouted.

“Okay, okay, sorry! I just wanted to make sure you were okay, considering this was kinda my fault and all.”

“You spilled champagne on me. Of course it was your fault.”

“No, I meant the engagement party. I made this thing happen. Remember me? Jake Peralta? Guy who told you to marry the perfect guy?” Paul asked. Suddenly, everything made sense. That explained the fake looking mustache and how “Paul” had been oddly attentive of her.

“Why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

“No, I mean. Why are you serving at my rehearsal dinner?” Amy raised an eyebrow.

“I’m undercover, duh.” Jake answered.

“Why?” Amy asked. Jake turned around and locked the bathroom door behind him as a precaution.

“Can I trust you?”

“Of course. I’m a detective.”

“There’s been some chatter from my CIs that this hotel’s owner and this restaurant’s manager have ties to the Petrov crime family. I’m undercover as Paul Stanton from Portland, Oregon, a struggling actor who is only waiting to pay for my career… and my cocaine addiction.”

“I’d lose the mustache, if I were you. No self-respecting actor would have something like that.”

“Noted.”

“Thank you for getting me drunk and saving me from Teddy’s mom, by the way.” Amy gave up on trying to fix her dress. Instead, she sat down on the cold linoleum floor and leaned against a wall. Jake sat down in front of her.

“No problemo. That’s what I do.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your undercover thing?”

“Nah, I just got fired. Guess management doesn’t like this when you spill champagne on people.”

“I’m sorry I had to ruin it for you.”

“It doesn’t really matter. I mean, my captain’s gonna be super pissed that I purposefully blew my cover and almost ruined the case, but he’ll get that I was helping a friend. Besides, I’ve already got enough evidence to put the manager away.”

“How long have you been undercover?”

“Two days.”

Amy laughed. “Criminals are so stupid.”

“I know, right?”

“One time, I blew my cover by asking ‘ May I have some cocaine? ’. Why do criminals have such terrible grammar?”

“Terrible grammar? Do you complain like that to the detectives at your precinct, or is it just me?”

“Shut up.” Amy rolled her eyes, but a part of her wasn’t annoyed, but instead intrigued.

“Is your fiancé as big of a grammar nerd as you are? I bet you two are like two quotation marks, or something.”

“My fiancé.”

“Yeah, the one who is working the party right now when you’re in here with me. The one that I set you up with.” Jake was beaming proudly.

“I… I don’t think I can marry him.” Amy said. She’d never said that out loud before. She’d never told anyone, not even Kylie or her mom. But Jake was a near-stranger. He was easy. Amy’s heavy heart had turned into a light feather.

“Come on Ames. Is it okay if I call you Ames?” Ames. Amy smiled at her new nickname. “You can’t just cancel a wedding just because his mom is kinda annoying.”

“It’s not his mom,” Amy said. “His mom’s nice. Teddy’s nice too. He’s perfect, even. He has a perfect credit score, and he’s a great detective.”

“Then why can’t you marry him?”

“Because I’m not in love with him!” Amy exclaimed. “I love him, but I’m not in love with him. He’s boring. I don’t like talking to him.”

“Well, you should probably do something about that, since your wedding’s tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure your cousin Sara is gonna need to pee pretty soon. I brought her a lot of mimosas tonight.”

“The ceremony isn’t until tomorrow morning. I can probably type up a well-written goodbye letter for Teddy if I stay up tonight.” If she and Teddy weren’t to be getting married the next day, Amy would have broken up with him in person, as soon as she got out of the bathroom. But everyone at the rehearsal dinner was so happy, and Teddy was having fun, and there would be too many questions but no time to say what she needed to. And she couldn’t just demand a conversation with him either. Teddy was superstitious. He believed that a bridge and a groom seeing each other before the wedding was bad luck. He had booked a hotel room on the opposite side of the hotel from Amy’s, and he told his groomsmen not to let Amy near him at all, no matter what she said.

“Amy, you’ve had like ten million glasses of champagne, and you still have this dinner to worry about.”

“Then the letter will be slightly better than average. I can live with that.” Amy reassured herself.

“What are you going to do about this dinner?” Jake asked.

“I’ll get through it,” Amy said. She stood up, dusted herself off, and walked towards the door. As she unlocked the door, she looked back at Jake’s smiling face and wondered how any girl could have stood him up all those months ago.

By 7:00 the next morning, Amy Santiago had typed up a four-page, single-spaced letter explaining to Teddy exactly why she decided to break up with him. By 7:09, she'd sent all of her family members short texts telling them to talk to Teddy. By 7:17, she had paid a concierge to print the pages out for her. By 7:20, the letter had been handed to one of Teddy’s groomsmen, with explicit instruction to give it to Teddy when he woke up at eight thirty.

By 7:30, Amy had checked out of her room and was ready to leave the hotel and call an car to go back to her apartment when she saw Jake Peralta sitting in the lobby, pretending to read a newspaper.

“What are you doing?” Amy asked Jake as she walked over to him. “Are you stalking me?”

“What? No. Of course not. I’m here on cop business.”

“Then why are you here? I thought you compromised your cover.”

“Yeah, but after you left, I got a call from one of my CIs that there’s a meeting going down today at 7:45 with some major players.” Jake whispers. “Now sit down next to me, the guard’s looking at me!” Amy sat down next to Jake. Jake subtly pointed her to a man wearing a hotel uniform standing in front of a potted plant, looking around the room. The potted plant sat several feet away from a door with a sign that said “Do Not Enter” in front of it. Every so often, someone new would go through those doors. As she sat and waited, Amy identified some of the people walking through the doors to Jake. Most of the people were known criminals, but some were people that Jake didn’t know, that his CIs hadn’t warned him about.

It seemed as if everyone in the hotel was in on the criminal activity. At one point, Amy identified the hotel’s head of entertainment, who had helped her plan the wedding and pick the date. As stream of people slowed, Jake began returning the favor by identifying his own colleagues, who were stationed around the lobby.

“...and Charles is the one standing in front of the gift shop,” Jake said. He tapped his ear, and Amy was made aware of the earpiece she hadn’t noticed earlier. “He wants me to ask you if the food here was good.”

“Tell him that it’s great.”

“She says it’s great, Charles!” Jake said. He looked down at his watch. 7:44 a.m. “I’m gonna need to distract him so he doesn’t stop Charles and the rest of my squad from storming that meeting.”

“I can help you,” Amy said. She stood up, grabbed Jake’s hand, and dragged him along with her as she walked up to the man in front of the potted plant.

“Hello, sir. Johnny and I have been waiting forever for a meeting with Lisa, the head of entertainment and booking. She was supposed to meet us in the lobby at 7, and now it’s 7:44.” Amy said.

“Yeah, Dora and I really wanted to book this place for our wedding. Lisa said she was going to give us a magical time.” Jake said. Amy looked down at his watch. 7:45.

“It’s time,” Amy cough-said.

“Can you please point us to Lisa’s office?” Jake asked. “She’d promised us some free samples of the hotel’s food and I do not want to miss that.” At the sound of the signal phrase “free samples”, Amy saw all of the people Jake had pointed out to her rush to the door, and break it down. Almost immediately, Jake let go of her hand, pulled out his gun, and told the man in front of him that he was under arrest.

It all happened so fast. Amy had experienced a lot as a detective, but all those times, she’d been the one making the arrests. But now, she was a witness. She had become engulfed by a whirlwind. Criminals were getting escorted out of the lobby, and she was led to Jake’s car. One moment she was riding down to his precinct with him, listening to him tell her that he needed witness statements and for her to tell him everything she knew about the hotel’s staff, and another moment, she was sitting in Jake’s precinct, reading lips and listening to his captain yell at him through the precinct’s thin walls.

“Detective Peralta, how DARE you reveal your case to a civilian. And not only that, how dare you ENDANGER said civilian by letting her interfere with your case. We’re lucky that we made that bus, or else you’d be in deep water!”

“She wasn’t just a civilian, sir. She’s my friend, and she’s a detective.”

“A detective on their day off is STILL a CIVILIAN. And what if she wasn’t a detective? What would you have done then?”

“I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t have even looked at her. But that doesn’t change the fact that she knows a lot about the hotel, a lot that our perps aren’t going to talk about, because she planned her wedding there. She helped me distract the guy, and she can help us now.”

“Are you sure, Detective Peralta.”

“I’m positive. I trust her.”

“How are you so sure about that?”

“Anyone who tells a stranger that they’re going to leave their fiancé is someone who doesn’t have a problem with trust.”

“Fine. She is allowed to stay and talk to you about the case. But if you mess this up, I’m not cleaning this up for you.”

“I know, sir.”

Amy had been sitting at a chair, next to Jake’s desk, intently listening when Jake finally exited the captain’s office. Not wanting to seem like she was listening, Amy turned on her phone. There were seventeen voicemails, six from Teddy, five from her mom, and the rest from others in her family. While the Amy that was happily engaged to Teddy would have called all of them back immediately, the Amy that left Teddy before their wedding didn’t bother opening the voicemails. Instead, she texted all of them, saying that she needed some space, but that she was okay.

Jake sat down at his desk.

“Who are you texting?” Jake asked, looking at her phone.

“It’s just my family, and Teddy. I’m just telling them that I’m okay.”

“How’s Teddy holding up?” Amy shrugged.

“Can you please just interview me about the hotel? I’m not in the mood to talk about the hotel today,” Amy told Jake. There was a sudden shift in his demeanor. His foot started tapping on the ground as he grabbed a case file from the large mountain of papers forming on his desk. His voice was steady and serious as he asked her question after question about the hotel and what she’d seen while planning her wedding there. It was a far cry from the fun and slightly frantic rhythm she’d unconsciously begun to associate with his voice.

Before Amy knew it, it was 11:00, and Jake stomach had begun growling. The sound made her feel hungry, too.

“Well, that’s enough for today.” Jake returned his case file to the mountain on his desk, and began drumming his fingers on his stomach. “I’m feeling snacky. You ready to get something to eat?”

“You and me? Together?” Amy asked. She hoped that Jake couldn’t hear how her voice shook when she said together.

“Yeah, let’s go get something to eat.” Jake. He stood up from his chair and put his jacket on. “Like… as friends. Not a date. I can drop you off at one of your apartment afterwards.”

That would have been the logical thing to do. But Teddy was probably there, mourning the breakup, and Amy hadn’t prepared anything to say to see him in person. She thought that there would be more time.

I can think about it during lunch , Amy thought.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jake took Amy to get possibly the greasiest burgers in Brooklyn. As they waited in line, Amy told Jake her address. Inside the place, people were packed like sardines. Oil practically dripped from all the walls of the joint. Amy was sure that the patties were more fat than meat. They got their orders to-go and ate in Jake’s car,as he drove her to her apartment.

“Do you eat this stuff every day?” Amy asked.

“Not every day,” Jake said. “Only when Charles doesn’t bring me food.”

“And how much is that?” Amy asked. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Jake grabbed an overly salted fry from the bag and popped it in his mouth.

“Three days a week.” Jake answered, his mouth still full of fry.

“That’s disgusting,” Amy said. “I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

“I’ll die when it’s my time. In a fiery shootout with like, twenty bad guys.” Jake said. The notion made Amy laugh so hard that her stomach began to hurt, though the food might have been a contributing factor to that. “Hey, don’t laugh at me.”

“Sorry, it’s just hard to imagine Paul the waiter in a crazy shootout.”

“Hey, Paul is way more badass than you think!”

“Yeah, when I think badass, I definitely think struggling actor with a coke addiction.”

“You remembered.”

“I’m a detective. It’s my job.”

“If you were a better detective, you’d have known that I’m more John McClane than Paul the waiter, and if I’m not dying hard, I’m dying badass.” For the rest of the ride, Jake regaled her with heavily embellished tales of his badass adventures, and Amy pretended to believe them. Their journey stopped not too long after Jake began telling her about his time undercover in the mafia, as he stopped in front of her apartment building.

Amy started out the window, seeing her apartment building in a way she’d never seen it before. For the longest time, it was home. She’d moved in right after Teddy had proposed. She had developed a routine there.

But it wasn’t home anymore. It was just Teddy’s apartment now. Jake unlocked the car door, and Amy exited the car. She began walking away, but before she could enter the building, she turned back at Jake. He was still there, smiling at her.

“You can leave, you know!” She shouted at him.

“Nah, I kinda wanna see how this ends.” Jake fired back. Amy didn’t say anything as she walked into the building.

Amy and Teddy’s apartment was on the tenth floor. During the elevator ride up, Amy mentally prepared a speech to Teddy. Sure, it wouldn’t be half as good as her farewell letter, but it would be something. As the elevator doors opened, she saw Teddy, looking at her and holding a box.

“What are you doing?” Amy asked, walking out of the elevator.

“I could be asking you the same thing,” Teddy replied curtly.

“Why do you have that box?” Amy asked.

“I’m moving out. My stuff will be cleared by tonight. I’m staying at Tommy’s.” Tommy was Teddy’s best friend, and a detective at his precinct.

“But this is your apartment. You were here first.”

“I don’t want to live in a place where I’m constantly reminded of the fact that my fiancé cheated on me.”

“What? I did not cheat on you! Did you even read the letter?”

“Yeah, I did. That’s how I came to the conclusion.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I read your letter. You said you weren’t in love with me, and that I was boring. I didn’t understand why until Tommy told me that he saw you in the lobby this morning with another guy.”

“Teddy, I can explain!” Amy begged. She didn’t know why she was begging, or why there were tears falling down her face. She didn’t love Teddy, but she wanted the breakup to be as clean as possible. Not like this. She’d failed. She hated failure.

“I don’t need an explanation, but I think your family and friends probably do. I told about your cheating and about the letter. They’ve been worried sick.” Teddy said. “Goodbye, Amy.” He pressed the down button for the elevator, and the doors opened. He got in the elevator, and then the doors closed. Leaving Amy there alone.

Tears were streaming down her face. Her phone was ringing. Teddy was gone. Her apartment was down the hall, but all she wanted to was run far away. She was two floors down before she knew what she was doing. She had taken the stairs. Her heart was pounding and her feet were moving, and by the time she had reached the third floor, she felt like her heart was about to give out. But she kept running. Before long, she was running out of the lobby and into Jake’s car.

“Hey. Are you doing okay?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Amy said as she wiped away a tear from her face.

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. Can you please drive me somewhere? I don’t want to be here right now,” Amy said. Jake nodded and started the car. As he drove, Amy called her mother, and her brothers, and her father, and Kylie. All of the friends and family who Teddy had told. She told them that she didn’t cheat, that Jake was just a friend, and in fact, Jake was the one who told her to accept Teddy’s engagement in the first place.

Surprisingly, they were all just happy that Amy was okay. Gabriel, the third eldest brother, started talking about how stupid Teddy had acted at the bachelor party before Amy hung up. Meanwhile, Kylie seemed relieved that Teddy was gone. She called him “the least interesting man in the world”.

Amy had no idea where Jake was driving, and she was so engrossed in her calls, that she didn’t bother asking. After what seemed like ten million calls later, Jake pulled into a crowded indoor parking lot and turned off the car.

“Where are we?” Amy asked as she hung up on Kylie’s speech about how Amy could do so much better than Teddy.

“A parking lot. You’re lucky you’re sad, because normally I wouldn’t go to Manhattan for anything. The parking’s a bitch.”

“Why are we in Manhattan?”

“To go to the natural history museum, duh.” Jake said as she got out of the car. Amy followed him out. They began walking out of the parking lot together.

“Why are we doing to the museum?”

“Because you like the museum. And before you ask, no, I’m not a stalker, I just looked your name up on facebook to make sure you didn’t lead me to your apartment building just to kill me while you were inside. Even though I did help you run away from your wedding, we’re still totes strangers.”

“That was smart of you. But why the museum, of all the places?”

“That was the first thing I saw you post about. And I kinda wanted to see the dinosaurs.”

“Won’t your boss be mad that you’re taking the afternoon off to take me to the museum?” Amy asked. Jake shrugged.

“Nah, I busted a lot of bad guys this morning, and I’ve got no open cases right now.”

“He seemed pretty mad this morning.”

“Yeah, but like in a fatherly way. I’m kinda like a son to him.” Amy rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Amy!”

“Sure,” Amy said sarcastically. After exiting the parking building, they walked several blocks until they reached the entrance of the museum. The museum wasn’t at peak hours, so Amy and Jake got in quickly. Once inside, Jake practically sprinted toward the dinosaur exhibits, while Amy followed him, giggling all along the way.

They spent the rest of the afternoon heading to every exhibit. Half the time, Jake was Amy’s tour guide, telling her about how the museum looked in real life in comparison to how in look in the Night at the Museum movies. At one point, he frowned at the fact that Teddy Roosevelt wasn’t Robin Williams.

The other half, Amy was the tour guide, telling Amy everything she knew as he listened intently, cracking jokes about funny names every now and again. Late in the day, Amy dragged him to see the planetarium. She told him that she had basically grown up in planetariums, and he asked her what it was like to be a total nerd.

She lightly punched him in the shoulder then, but it was nice. Teddy had never asked her questions or joked with her or made fun of her.

Night had fallen when they had finally exhausted the museum. As they headed toward the exit, Amy felt a tap her on the shoulder. She turned around and saw a woman with wispy white hair and a crooked smile with a few teeth missing.

“I’m sorry to bother you miss, but I’ve been at some exhibits with you for the past few hours, and I just wanted to tell you and your boyfriend that you make such a cute couple.”

“Oh no, we’re not a couple.” Amy said. “We’re just friends. Strangers, even.”

“I apologize for my mistake,” the old woman said. “Even if you’re strangers, don’t let each other go. I met my wife at twenty-two, but we didn’t start becoming friends for until thirteen years later. When someone’s gone, you start to miss all the time that you didn’t get.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Amy said.

“It’s all in the past, now. But what’s important is that you seize everything that’s important to you,” the woman said. Amy smiled. “No matter what you two are, I hope you have a nice day.” The woman walked away, and Jake and Amy waved her goodbye.

Jake and Amy walked back to Jake’s car in silence, the idea of a cute couple forming a gigantic canyon between them. They were back in Brooklyn before Jake spoke up.

“So. Where should I take you?”

“Back to my apartment. Where else would I go?”

“You were crying, so I just assumed that you got kicked out. But yeah, that’s great. Your apartment.”

“I didn’t get kicked out. Teddy left.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry for taking over your day afternoon. Teddy just said some really bad things, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“No problem. I would have probably just done nothing today if it wasn’t for you, anyways.”

There was a moment of silence. “So… did you have fun today?” Amy asked.

“It was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time! I didn’t know learning could be fun.” Jake answered.

“It is fun. How could you not think learning is fun?” Amy asked. “What do you do for fun?”

“First off, every single teacher I’ve ever had has hated me, so there’s that,” Jake said. “And I do a lot of fun things. I hang out with friends. I watch movies. In fact, Saturday’s my movie marathon night. This week, like every week, is Die Hard week.”

“Why can’t you watch something different? It’s Harry Potter weekend on Freeform tonight!”

“I’ve never seen a single Harry Potter movie, but I know that they’re all terrible!”

“The Harry Potter movies were far from perfect, and they eliminated very much from the books, but they’re classics, Jake! You can’t hate the Harry Potter movies.”

“I can and I will,” Jake said defiantly.

“I’ll prove to you that the Harry Potter movies are amazing.”

“How?”

“You can come to my apartment and watch them with me. I’ll even feed you,” Amy said. She knew it was a bad idea to invite a near-stranger to her apartment after she’d just been accused to cheating, but she didn’t care. She had to win, for herself and for Harry Potter.

“Fine, but I refuse to eat anything healthy!” Jake exclaimed.

“I thought that was already a given!” Amy fired back. Jake sped all the way back to Amy’s building. Teddy had cleared every trace of him out of the apartment by them. All of his clothes and things were gone. The only thing left was the food he’d gotten when he went grocery shopping earlier that week. "Healthy" microwaveable meals to constitute a dinner, organic popcorn for snacking, and fair trade chocolate for a sweet treat. Amy didn’t feel guilty about eating Teddy’s food. If he left it there, it belonged to her.

Upon arriving at the apartment, Amy changed into her pajamas and Jake made himself comfortable on Amy’s couch. He turned on the TV to Freeform, and Amy made the popcorn and got the candy out of the shelves. Once the popcorn was ready, Amy sat next to Jake on the couch and handed him one of Teddy’s fair trade chocolate candy bars.

“Your boyfriend has excellent taste in food,” Jake said as she bit into the chocolate bar. “Maybe I should marry him.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Amy told Jake. “And you wouldn’t last a minute.”

“You wanna bet?” Jake asked.

“Just watch the movie,” Amy said.

Somewhere between the ending of Prisoner of Azkaban and the beginning of the Goblet of Fire, Amy, more than a little bit exhausted from the day’s events, had fallen asleep on Jake’s shoulder. She woke up halfway into the Order of the Phoenix. Her head had fallen onto Jake’s shoulder. A tiny part of her marveled at how well she fit.

On screen, the members of Dumbledore’s army had left the Room of Requirement. Harry and Cho were the only ones left. Amy lifted her head off of Jake’s shoulders and opened her mouth to begin telling him about how despite how amazing the Order of the Phoenix was, it really shafted Cho as a character, and Jake should not judge Cho by her movie portrayal.

“You’re awake,” Jake said, turning his head away from the screen and towards Amy before she could speak. “I was beginning to think that these movies were super boring and that’s why you fell asleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Amy asked.

“You looked so peaceful,” Jake said. He shrugged, but he didn’t turn away. His eyes were still focused on her. His mouth was open, like he was going to say something else but the words had gotten caught in his throat. Amy looked at his lips, and then at his chest, which as moving up and down in tunes with his deep breaths.

She didn’t know who started the kiss. All she knew was that one moment Harry and Cho were kissing, and she the next she and Jake were kissing.

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But the way his lips felt like they were made for hers, the way he put his hand up to cup her face, it felt like there was electricity and magic in her veins. She kissed him for a few seconds longer than she should have.

They pulled away at the same time.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.” Jake said as he stood up.

“It’s my fault, I invited you in, and I started it.” Amy said.

“No, I started it. They were my lips, Amy!” Jake shouted.

“In case you’ve forgotten, those were my lips, too!” Amy yelled. She stood up so that she was even with Jake.

“But I’m the one that overstepped my bounds! You were going to get married last night!”

“I chose not to get married, and I chose to invite you in. At the very least, this is both of our faults!”

“You were vulnerable and sad. It was wrong of me to not leave you alone.” Jake said. His voice had softened. He headed towards the door.

“Wait,” Amy said, her voice soft and vulnerable. Jake turned. “I asked you to stay. Thank you for staying. You’re a good friend. I liked today.” Jake sighed.

“You’re really great, Amy. I really like you. But I don’t wanna be the guy who takes advantage of a girl, and I definitely don’t wanna be the rebound guy you throw away after a week.”

“And I don’t want to be the girl who just jumps from relationship to relationship.”

“What do you wanna do?” Jake asked.

“Let’s wait. How about six months? We can be friends until then, but if we’re both single, clear-headed, and willing to try at that point, then let’s try.” Amy answered.

“I’d like that.”

“So, what do you want to do now?”

“I should probably go,” Jake said. “Watching these movies got me going once, and I don’t want them to get me going again,” he joked.

“I’ll see you around… friend.”

“Goodbye… pal.”

iMessage. 6:07 p.m.

JAKE: yo six months is up 2day. R u willing to give us a try?

AMY: Sure. How about dinner and a movie, tomorrow?

AMY: By a movie, I mean a movie in the theaters, not Die Hard again.

JAKE: why are you ruining this relationship already???

AMY: You are going to make me regret this.

JAKE: "ur going to make me regret this" TITLE OF UR SEXTAPE

The next night, Jake showed up at Amy’s door with an outfit approved by his friend Gina, a reservation at a restaurant approved by his friend Charles, and a bouquet of yellow roses approved by the flower shop near his house.

His friend Terry had told him five minutes to show that he was interested (check) and to say something interesting when he picked Amy up (not check).

When Amy opened the door, wearing a pretty fuchsia dress, Jake lost the ability to speak. He was saved by Amy’s arms pulling him close, and her lips crashing into his.

They were almost late for their dinner reservation.

#b99 #peraltiago #jake x amy #otp: romantic stylez #nia's fics #please love me

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shinmegamitensei2 · 6 years

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i was gonna sleep cus i’m tired as shit but then my brain started blaring some thoughts in my head so now i can’t sleep, so now you guys get to hear me ramble angrily about privilege and intersections of it on my blog instead

warning: this is extremely long and at points starts to sound like “pwease weave the poow twans men awone we did nofing wrong uwu” but i promise there’s a point somewhere in here about how we gotta start thinking about what we say has consequences

just... i get so angry when privilege is conflated to “if you have it, you have every single facet of it and you always benefit from it” when that’s really not the case at all, and to treat privilege as a single card that is separate from, and consequently unaffected by personal experience, other VISIBLE aspects of identity and individuality, and so forth is a really flawed way of thinking

the way i see most people explain or treat privilege is whether you have, say, a “privilege card” and the more you accumulate, the more privileged you are and thus the more benefits society offers you as a result of your status over another person (say, a white cis straight man is far more privileged than a black trans gay woman)

this is it, a simplification of privilege, easily digestible and easy enough to regurgitate to other people to get them to understand on an elementary level what it means to have privilege - when you have it, you have benefits over another person because society deems you better than another person

but then the conversation stops there. it stops, and this simplification becomes a hard and fast rule rather than the beginning of an educational moment, and suddenly we have concepts such as self-determination of your identity means you can gain and drop privileges as you change and determine WITHIN YOURSELF who you are, rather than what society deems you as

and therein lies the problem: how do you gain or lose privilege? how does the concept of passing privilege factor into all this? what does it mean to pass, or to not pass, and can privilege be bargained, can it only be half-gained or half-lost, can it change on a whim?

the only times i ever see this brought up, it’s by some asshat who’s got some shitty opinions or is trying to defend the privileged group wherein exchanges of power usually do not happen on the level i’m trying to discuss (re: race and a white person whose family is predominantly european-white, although there is a lot to be said about someone who is white but also comes from a mixed family and the way that privilege can also be bartered based on perceived appearance versus the reality) but what i really want to look into, specifically, is the bartering of privilege gained and lost through identification as trans, nonbinary, or another gender unrecognized by mainstream society

because, like... it’s here, i feel like, where passing privilege becomes its most prominent (as well as sexuality and the culture surrounding it that has crafted a persona, either influenced by or influencing [or both!!] by homophobic caricatures of the past and present) and where we need to start having discussions, serious discussions, about how one passes not only affects their privilege, but also that we cannot and should not treat people specifically based on what privileges or disprivileges we believe they should be experiencing in their day-to-day lives, because... it doesn’t work that way

there’s such a monumental difference between people at different stages of passing, and what information they have about them that is on the internet, or among their friends and family, or to their bosses and coworkers or if it gets leaked in ways they didn’t intend or want people to see or know

i AM going to use trans men in this example, being one myself, because i don’t intend to try and explain anything using experiences that don’t belong to myself so as to not misrepresent anyone, so i apologize that this comes off as being really whiny and “wahhh stop treating transmasc ppl badly” because a whole lot of trans masc and trans men adopt misogyny and absorb toxic masculinity in an attempt to become masculine, in a world where manliness is often defined by how much you can reject femininity and the constant attempts to redefine masculinity in a way that doesn’t allow male predators to adopt it solely to hurt women I’M GOING ON A TANGENT ANYWAY

there was a point i wanted to make here, and it was specifically on the idea that, like... you cannot ever, possibly, expect a trans man who is completely untransitioned and is seen, societally, as a woman, to own any amount of male privilege that makes any real difference where it matters aside from an online community wherein anonymity is valued, but also in said community where that information (that they are trans, whether or not they mention they are untransitioned) may be open and ENCOURAGED to be posted online for the sake of engaging in these conversations in the first place

as opposed to a trans man who is fully transitioned, has spent several years being accepted as a man, having absorbed ideas about masculinity that may make him indistinguishable from other men and nobody questions his status as a man, and all of this is STILL contingent on the fact that nobody knows or SHOULD know that he is trans, as once that information comes out on a platform where people feel empowered to challenge him (not only including the internet, but in real life, where it is common and encouraged for men to engage in violence, especially where bigotry is concerned)

as opposed to any trans men who may be in between, too! a man who is taking T, whose voice is changing over time and where his neighbors may catch onto what’s going on and grow suspicious; a man who takes strides to act masculine where he can, but who is stifled in an environment where he could be abused or killed purely on account of transphobia; a man who does not WANT to take the steps required for society to fully “recognize” him as a man, and so may never be able to fully participate in presenting the way he wants

this is all transphobia, full stop. not transmisandry or whatever weirdo terms ppl are coming up with these days, but there is a lot to be said in how transness AFFECTS male privilege, and how that male privilege may be adopted, absorbed, and enacted depending on the way that society recognizes men, maleness and masculinity

trans masculinity, and the state of being a trans man, is not an experience shared by every trans man. trans men are not all the same - some are trans nonbinary men, some transition, some do not, some adopt abusive techniques and toxicity that comes built into the system that tells us what being a man is and what being a woman is (although i could also argue that in a lot of ways, to be recognized as a man without having homophobia and transphobia and misogyny thrown at you constantly is to HAVE to participate in these systems, but alas)

there is a wide variety of difference in all of these people, and how they are recognized on a widescale manner that makes any shred of difference outside of this website - which begs another question! where does privilege travel? can it disappear or appear depending on where you are? where you go? can you have privilege on tumblr, but then have it vanish when you leave this website?

there’s a distortion, a way we talk about privilege and the privileged folk, that makes it so damn difficult to discuss the finer and more important details about privilege, intersection, and how privilege is not the same for everyone. it CANNOT be the same for everyone, because passing privilege is not yet another token given to people just to show that they have it! and privilege is not a set of cards and coins that come separately and totally irrelevant of each other!

a trans man is pelted by misogyny, homophobia, as well as transphobia when he does not pass. just as cis men are pelted with these ideas, so too are trans men. and yes, they are misguided. they hurt women and gay people more than they hurt men and straight people, this much should be obvious to anyone. but these things - they are STILL internalized, and how they are internalized changes depending on who is on the receiving end, and in many ways these things are markers and indicators of how to and how not to act for men

i wanted to keep going on about this point and i think i have more to say but my end point with all this is just that privilege changes power depending on where you are, who you are, and on a moment’s notice depending on what information people have a hold of, and i know i did a not-great job of explaining this but also i’m just venting so whatever

another thought occurred to me, about something i was thinking about earlier today, and it’s about how we talk about this concept, and how we approach privilege and privileged people and people whose privilege may variably change

obviously tumblr’s a bad place to be. it’s polarizing, because a lot of people use it as a place to vent, and there’s a lot of gross and nasty people here (including highly-privileged folk and fucking neo-nazis for fuck’s sake) and having long and meaningful conversations here is pointless because it’s drowned out by the obsession and need for having notes yet lacking a cohesive way to spread posts and all proper additions to that post without someone losing some form of context along the way

(that fucking, pewdiepiekin post goin around is one such example, since it’s apparently a joke that OP has but everyone’s treating it as fact, and like obviously it’s hard to tell sarcasm on this website given how much weird shit we’ve seen, but also that it’s FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE to correct such a misunderstanding BECAUSE of the very nature of tumblr itself, go figure)

but that’s also why i think we gotta have this conversation, this like... talk that we can’t keep talking about shit the way we have been, especially in regards to social justice and conceptualizing it for the younger kids who USE this website, and like... we just gotta have a different way of approaching things now, because the more i watch idle chats where people gleefully and openly post screenshots of others making fun of them for minor shit or momentary fuck-ups that could be easily ignored because the person is still learning (ESPECIALLY IF THEY’RE LIKE 14) and otherwise give themselves a free pass to become openly vicious and in the name of coping or to share amongst their friends how pathetic they view some people

like ok not to be a liberal and i’d rather not be classified as such because i don’t lick the boots of the privileged or pull any of that devil’s advocate shit but this extremely hostile environment we’ve cultivated and continually defend because we think this website creates ANY sort of meaningful difference in the world and anything we do on this website has any sort of meaningful impact that is beneficial to us while also openly encouraging behaviors that mitigate and deny growth and learning from mistakes is honestly kind of fucking scary

this is in no way saying giving a pass or go on behavior that directly spreads violence like saying slurs and whatnot, but we’re also so, so very fucking vicious, and at some point, no matter what reason you have for saying what you do, the consequence is that your words and intents get hijacked and used out of context in a manner that forms high hostility in the first place

and it’s so, so hard to talk about here too, without going “well if you hate men hurr durr it’s ur fault everything on this site sucks don’t openly say you hate your oppressors hurr durr!” like that’s such an easy trap to fall into but i don’t believe that either, even if i’ve grown distasteful of openly expressing “i hate cis men” (because they terrify me and could murder me at a moment’s notice, both for thinking i’m a woman and for finding out i am trans) or “i hate straight people” (because they fetishize my gayness and shit!) and etc

i’ve got so many reasons why i could express those thoughts, but should i do it, and on a regular basis, consequences follow. consequences that destroy my cultivated and intended reputation as someone who is open and friendly and kind, because it is difficult to really PROVE that to someone who may be on the fence from allowing themself to be deprogrammed from societal teachings and ingrained and taught transphobia and homophobia and misogyny and racism and so on so forth

and i know not everyone is like that. not everyone WANTS to teach and to provide the resources for that and to help deprogram people. most people just want to vent, most people want to escape from the daily abuse and fear and vent their frustrations. i get that. but then where do we go from there, when we have such an absolute volume of people doing and saying this exact thing, in such a degree that such a climate becomes normal to be reactionary and to react to any level of ignorance with anger, no matter who it comes from?

i’m being so, so vague here, and i really do not want it to come off as protection of the poor soft privileged or what the fuck ever, i genuinely do not. i guess i’m just describing a time in my life where i was like that, where i openly enjoyed mocking people that i thought were beyond reprieve and “saving” and getting into fights and it was such a nasty attitude to be in because it led to me throwing people out of my life, throwing caution to the wind, destroying my reputation online and getting put on places like r/tumblrinaction and potentially k.i/.w/i./f./a/./r./.m//s for my actions

living that way endangered me, and not just because of who i am. living that way destroyed me, and it destroyed my way of thinking, too. it destroyed my moral system, it encouraged me to dehumanize others. it encouraged me to find new ways to rationalize violence as a way of “vengeance” and “retribution” for the damages society dealt me, as if that was any rational and correct way of approaching this situation

anger has its place. anger has its place in destroying the system we have now and rebuilding a new one. but we need to understand that our actions, no matter how justified, still have consequences, sometimes extremely unintended, and even unwarranted that we didn’t deserve, and just... i dunno

there is no easy solution to this. i don’t believe we’ll get anywhere by being nice to everyone all the time, just as much as i don’t believe we’ll get anywhere by developing such a community-wide but aimless anger that we develop as hostile an environment as we have on this website

i don’t know what we need, but it can’t be this

#vent #this is way too long and you probably shouldn't read it #and please absolutely do not rb it i would very much appreciate that #it's a bunch of thoughts i wanted to throw out there and it's not coherent #nor is it a blatant and exact statement of my ideologies #tons of it is vague even because i just do not want to stick to my guns and say something stupid #and like have all my friends turn on me and tell me how i'm no different from the people i'm rambling about #i dunno. this website has that effect on me now i guess #i know that's a broad reaching term too to be like 'fucking tumblr LOL sjws'#but... yeah everything i fucking put out here scares the shit out of me so thanks

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fairymascot · 7 years

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Some of you were kind enough to enable me, and so, here it is. Almost 2,600 words of everything wrong with Makoto Shinkai's 'Your Name', because gosh diddly dang it am I tired of seeing it heaped with baseless praise. This analysis contains spoilers for the whole movie, so read at your own risk! Stashing it under cut for length. Everything Wrong with 'Your Name': A Really Long Chunk of Media Analysis

'Your Name' is a top-grossing, critically acclaimed anime feature by Makoto Shinkai. It is, in short, about a teen girl from a small south-of-nowhere town and a teen guy from Tokyo, who mysteriously find themselves spending entire days in each other's bodies. They fall in love, as every guy and girl are meant to do, and it is then revealed that (1) the boy lives three years in the future, (2) the girl's town is to be unexpectedly destroyed by a stray chunk of comet, and so the guy goes back in time through her body to save her and the people of her town. They meet like a decade later and presumably get married and live happily ever after, the end.

This movie, with its gorgeous animation, artistic directing and beautiful original soundtrack by popular band Radwimps, was quick to achieve immense commercial and critical success. So just what is it that's wrong with it? Boy. Where do I begin.

It's phenomenally lazy in its writing.

The movie opens with intersecting inner monologues by the two main characters, in which they very melodramatically narrate the gaping void in their hearts without each other, and establish the fact that they are soulmates. Yes, five seconds in we are told are plainly told by the characters that they are soulmates, without knowing who they are or what kind of dynamic they have. This is a very convenient move: instead of having to go through the effort of selling us on their romance through the story, the writer just tells us from the get-go we have to be invested in it.

Unsurprisingly, at no point does the movie back this up with actual development.

By the nature of this story, the main pairing cannot interact. It's very on the nose with its star-crossed lovers thing. Their only way of getting to know each other is through memos they leave on each other's phones while in their bodies, and through how their surroundings treat them. Since they spend a couple days in each other's bodies per week, and only leave one memo a day -- usually a summary of what they did while in each other's bodies, to provide a reference for when they change back -- there is no real back-and-forth interaction even over text.

What I'm saying is this story is selling us an epic romance between two people who have never spoken once in their lives. It does this exclusively through cheap, external narrative stunts: first the monologues in the beginning, and then, around a third of the way in, through a supporting character telling the main boy that he's acting like he's in love with someone, which of course instantly opens his eyes to his feelings that the writer spent absolutely no time trying to actually develop. Oldest trick in the book.

The two of them interact for a single, two-minute scene, fifteen minutes or so before the movie ends. When the girl's town is about to be destroyed by the comet, through the magic of love and God-knows-what, their timelines briefly manage to intersect and allow them to interact. This hugely crucial moment in is written in the shallowest, most unsatisfying manner imaginable: in the story's biggest and only chance to sell the viewers on the depth of their supposed love, it offers us a stock guy-on-girl anime interaction, stuffed so full of stereotypes you could fill a bingo card with it: the girl cries emotionally at the sight of him, she blushes and huffily calls him a pervert and an idiot, she bashfully asks him if she looks pretty and then gets huffy, again, over his unenthusiastic response. The guy, like every main character in a romance anime, offers nothing but lukewarm, inane reactions, despite the fact he just spent half the movie scrambling to save this girl's life and finally gets to meet her against all odds. Not a word of real substance or emotional value is spoken between them, but the scene is framed oh so very prettily, with the sunset fading in the background accompanied by swelling violin music. So of course, we're supposed to be deeply touched.

Yeah, no.

It's so mind-numbingly stereotypical in its handling of gender and romance, you'd think it was written fifty years ago.

Instead of giving the characters actually unique and compelling personalities, the guy and girl's personalities can be aptly summed up as 'guy' and 'girl'. The guy is rough around the edges, quick to anger, loud and brash, physically strong, likes sports, incapable of doing anything too intricate or gentle with his hands. The girl is sensitive, emotional and highly concerned with others' view of her, gets self-conscious easily, good at sewing, and dreams of living a stylish life in Tokyo where she can go to cute cafes. There is not one, single aspect to these characters that betrays the generic societal expectations of what 'a guy' and 'a girl' are like.

Aha! But make no mistake. It's necessary for them to have these exact personalities, because 90% of the humor in this movie hinges on gender essentialist jokes. The whole first half of the film, where it's still light-hearted before gearing into melodrama mode, carries the punchline: 'Look! A girl acting like a boy! A boy acting like a girl! How wild is this, you guys?!' To name some of the fresh and inventive jokes it provides us with: the boy, when in the girl's body, cannot put her hair in the right hairdo; he sits open-legged; he gets into fights; he makes her suddenly excellent at sports, which earns her a long list of female admirers, much to her dismay. The girl, when in the boy's body, initially refers to herself in an inappropriately feminine manner; she acts timid and delicate; one of the guy's friends comments 'don't you think he's kind of cute today' while blushing, which of course gets him a weird look from his other friend, because what the hell dude, that’s, like, gay.

There's a lot that can be done with body-swapping narratives, especially when the swap is with a member of the opposite sex. It can be used as a tool for some incredibly interesting psychological exploration, as well as delving into potentially queer themes. The female protagonist herself even declares at the beginning of the movie that she wishes she could be a guy, but you know, not in a weird way, or anything. The movie isn't interested in that, of course, because it's very important for it to be about a boy and a girl who are very cis and straight and who fall in love in the most banal way possible. Which is fine, I mean, that's the standard, but couldn't it be a little less offensive about it?

The thing about this movie is that while it attempts to pass itself off as a dual protagonist movie, that's really not the case. Once the plot gets rolling and there's a comet to be stopped, the female character is taken completely out of the picture for maybe a third of the movie, now in the role of a helpless damsel for the guy to rescue. She is not active in any way; she does not contribute to the plot, despite it revolving around saving her hometown. The guy searches, researches, travels physically as well as metaphysically, plans, warns, blows shit up, evacuates, She only does one, single thing, at the very end, which is speak to the town's mayor -- her father -- to convince him of the coming danger. And that's not even shown on-screen.

Oh, yes, and a running gag throughout the movie is: every single time the boy wakes up in the girl's body, he spends a good fifteen minutes fondling her breasts. He even comments, at some point, that 'doing this is bad for her', before happily continuing on. The girl finds out about it -- through her sister commenting on it, of course, not like they guy would come clean -- and confronts him about it during their single shared scene (where she blushes and calls him a pervert), at which he lies and states that it was only the one time, and she forgives him and lets it go. Because that's how you treat the love of your life, folks!

Nothing about the plot makes any goddamn fucking sense.

The ultimate reveal of the film is that the guy and the girl began swapping bodies for the purpose of saving the town from the comet. It's revealed, in addition, that the girl's mother and grandmother went through similar body-swapping experiences in their youth -- except they never led to anything, and were written off as 'dreams'.

Let's go over this again. Some cosmic force of the universe wanted to save the townspeople from death by a meteor crash, and its way of doing so was... to have a certain family of women swap bodies with random big-city men from the not-distant future, over the course of fifty-odd years?

What?

Why?

Let's start with the time discrepancy. Why is it there? Oh, the answer is simple: so you can have the motif of 'love that crosses time and space' reappear in the movie over and over again, lest the audience forgets how epic this romance is. But otherwise? Absolutely no reason. Because, you see, while you could say that the boy could use his knowledge from the future to save the town in time... he doesn't. It's only until after the girl's timeline in the past reaches the point where she and her entire town are killed that the guy discovers it in his timeline, and to save her, he has to go back in time -- not just by his definition of time, but by her definition of time as well. So if the guy was going to find out about the destruction after the fact and go back in time anyway... what narrative purpose does the time gap even possess? None. None at all.

Continuing: why did they choose to mention this has been a thing for generations? It raises more questions than it answers. It didn't take long for the main characters to realize the body swapping isn't just some weird dream, seeing as it left a very real imprint on their real lives and was acknowledged repeatedly by everyone around them. How in the world would the generations before them somehow manage to overlook this? And what would even be the point of warning the town of an up and coming comet fifty years in advance, when there's no way to prove it or any chance anyone would believe it? Yet even so-- if that's truly the method the universe has its eyes set on, why did it just give up on the girl's grandmother and mother, content to bring them closer to annihilation while waiting for the next generation to be born? What are the logistics of any of this?

Then, of course, you have the biggest question of all: How is a seventeen year old Tokyo boy with no special skills equipped to deal with a meteor strike? If we're really meant to accept he was chosen for a higher purpose, wouldn't it make sense to have him be fit to fulfill said purpose? Had the movie waved it all off as some grand cosmic joke or whatever, then sure, it would've still been a total disaster, but at least we would've had one less point to critically analyze it from. But if we're to consider that the whole crux of the story, supposedly, is to keep the comet from wiping out the town, the whole thing completely falls apart.

There are a hundred more effective ways they could've gone about this narrative. First of all: there's no reason for the boy to even be involved. I mean-- again, yes, for the star-crossed romance drama. But from a practical storytelling point? The only advantage he has over the girl is the knowledge of the comet's arrival. That's it. So thinking about it logically, this could've been a movie about her and her alone, if she were just granted visions of the future. It sure would've saved a whole lot of mess, confusion, and needless bumbling around.

But since it needs to be about the both of them, for the romance and all, why not make it.... actually about the both of them? Why not make it about the both of them working together to save the town, instead of the girl being completely absent from such a large and critical chunk of the movie dedicated to her own life and home? Or better yet, why not have each one of them work to save the other's timeline? As things are, there's no reason for the girl to even get channeled into the boy's body in the first place. His timeline doesn't need her intervention, and does not benefit from it -- in fact, the central plot would not have suffered in any way if all scenes featuring the girl in the guy's body were cut clean off. Wouldn't this have been a much more compelling, logical story if it were about two individuals who were specifically chosen to intervene with each other's lives due to their individual skillsets and personalities? If they could do something for each other that they couldn't do for themselves, and learn from each other in the process? Wouldn't that have made a lovely movie?

Well, that's not Your Name. Instead, Your Name is a pretentious, overly-budgeted nonsense salad where the head writer seems to have produced the central motifs out of a hat filled with random things he finds cool. No element of the story can be backed up by the plot's actual demands, and a lot of them clash and override each other. The movie tries to incorporate the theme of past lives and reincarnation by alluding to it in dialogues and in the soundtrack's lyrics, for the sole purpose that it sounds epic and full of pathos, even when the body swapping has nothing to actually do with it. It incorporates the theme of star-crossed lovers traveling through time and space, even when, as mentioned, there's no reason for the time gap to be there in the first place. And most prominent and embarrassing of all -- the central motif of names is horribly, laughably forced at every junction. It's as though the idea of 'they fall in love without knowing each other's names' was the original basis for the story, but as it developed the writer realized it makes no sense for them to spend entire days in each other's bodies without finding out their names -- and stubbornly refused to let the motif go, because the feels, you guys. So the two protagonists, having found out each other's names, go on to forget them, recall them, forget them, recall them, and forget them again all in the span of about twenty-five minutes, with no rhyme or reason to it beyond 'this is what would make this particular moment especially dramatic'. It really encapsulates the whole movie's approach to writing: transparently manipulative with no logical backbone, dressed up in as many frills, ribbons and pretty words as possible to tug at the viewers' heartstrings, in the hopes of making them overlook the fact there's absolutely nothing of value underneath.

Well, what can I say. It clearly succeeded. Good on you, Makoto Shinkai.

#the soundtrack is fantastic though. listen to that.#text #kimi no na wa #meta #my rambles

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