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#LOUDER FOR THE ABLEISTS IN THE BACK
neonarboretumart · 2 years
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Wow, I just experienced my first nasty little person on Tumblr! Someone that doesn’t believe that chronic illness, incurable and physical disabilities exist! She says the word ‘spoonie’ disgusts her. Oh sweetie, you disgust me too.
She decided to interact with this post and send me one of The Articles, y’know , those ones. I was having a bad day already ngl.
Anyway reminder that chronic illness and disability isn’t the fault of the person going through it, and being chronically ill and/or disabled doesn’t make you ‘damaged goods’. Radical acceptance aids healing and adaptation.
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uswntdreamer · 16 days
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fustrated.
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summary: leah is fustrated with the lackluster performance from her team and takes it out on the wrong person.
series: red, in the blurry mess.
warnings: ableist language (middle section) & suggestive (towards the end).
"are you okay now?" your friend asks you in a whisper. she only now realizes how overwhelming this could be for you.
but you're fine. you're shaken up and confused, but you're fine. your head is buried in the palms of your hands as you breathe in and out slowly. "i'm okay. did she really score or are you messing with me?"
"she did, nala." your friend shoots you smile. of course you can't see it. all you see is the bright red from her jersey.
you can hear the faint screams from the pitch through the concrete walls. they suddenly get louder than before and you're nervous again. your friend notices how your body goes still and is quick to reassure you.
"the game is over, nala. we won." she says as she takes a seat next to you. "leah scored and we won."
for some reason, you can't believe that she scored. which was weird because whenever leah did end up on the score sheet, you were always happy. however, this time you were confused. how did she score? after all these nights of crying and self doubt, she suddenly scores a match winning goal.
you were proud regardless, but none of it made sense to you. you definitely were going to have a talk with your girlfriend in private.
your girlfriend, on the other hand, was upset. some could say she was angry. her eyes, filled with anger, searched through the crowd of thousands, but she couldn't find you. her teammates jump around in joy, that winning feeling encapsulating them all except for her.
regardless, she joined her fellow reds in celebration under the shining lights. london was red once again and spurs had been defeated.
one by one and two by two, arsenal women and staff began to piling into the dressing room. you sat in leah's cubby as you patiently waited for her arrival.
"good game girls! what a way to end the weekend!" you hear a woman cheer. its russo.
"im so tired right now, i could fall asleep behind the wheel." you hear another voice. its kyra.
"oh my days someone please drive this girl home.." its blackstenius.
you hear laugher and more cheering. you recognize all their voices and none of them belong to leah. "where is she?" you mumble to yourself.
"leah?" emily sits down next to you. you glance over at her and nod. emily frowns. "i walked past her in the tunnel and she was ranting to katie, beth, and viv. she looked pissed off about something."
"why?" manuela asks, her mouth stuffed with a granola bar.
"beats me." emily shrugged her shoulders and removed herself from the conversation.
now you were even more confused. what could she be angry about? she scored the last minute winning goal in a london derby. what's there to be upset about?
you were broken out of your thoughts by a tap on your shoulder. it was your friend. "i'm gonna go now. this guy i met at the pub wants to take me out tonight."
if you could roll your eyes, you would. "alright have fun, you whore." you responded jokingly to which you received a light punch to the shoulder.
it's been twenty-seven minutes since the game concluded and there was still no leah. you started to worry. most of the girls were already set to go home, saying their goodbyes and fair wishes.
you stood up and made your way towards the door. as you did, a figure suddenly stormed into the room.
"ladies, back to the training ground tomorrow at 8." you heard a sharp command from in front of you. you recognize the voice once again, but this time it was leah. you could tell she was not happy.
the room suddenly went quiet. the whole vibe has shifted. everyone was perplexed. there wasn't any training scheduled until friday. leah didn't care to explain herself, instead she stormed past you and gathered her belongings.
the other three missing arsenal players entered the room and each of them wore different facial expressions: katie was disturbed, viv was on the brink of tears, and beth was seething red.
you couldn't see their expressions, but everyone else could and decided to keep their mouths shut as leah finished throwing everything into her duffle bag and stormed out again.
"nala, let's go. i don't have the patience to wait for you." leah commanded from down the hall. you stood frozen in the middle of the locker room.
everyone's eyes on you as you dragged your feet towards the exit. katie gently tugged on your arm once you met her out in the hall.
"can you play girlfriend duties tonight?" she asked in a whisper.
you raised your eyebrow, "excuse me?"
katie frowned, "can you get her to realize that it's too late to perfect the imperfections and maybe tell her to chill the hell out?"
you stared straight ahead in pure confusion, but continue to walk down the hall because you knew that an angry leah williamson would not hesitate to leave her disabled girlfriend behind (she's done it before).
leah was already backing out of the parking lot when you arrived. you wacked your stick against the frame of her car and let yourself in. leah didn't say anything to you. you didn't say anything to her. you wanted to, but didn't. she drove out of the stadium, ignoring the sea of red and white as she drove down the street.
you gripped your walking stick hard as you contemplated your next move. "should i ask what's for dinner? if she'll come to my appointment tomorrow? does she need to get something off her chest? or should i just keep my mouth shut?"
you glanced over at leah. there was a mix of different blurry colors that flashed across your vision, but even then you were hoping that through all those moving colors, you could possibly see a hint of happiness on leah's face. there was none of course.
leah was angry and you needed to figure out why.
"are you hungry?" you asked. leah did not respond.
okay then. "i have an appointment tomorrow at 8. i was hoping that you could bring..."
"are you deaf too?" leah rudely cuts you off.
"huh..?"
"oh my days. you are fucking deaf." leah spat out as she made a sharp turn which sent your head knocking against the car frame. "oh look everyone, it's helen keller. fucking ridiculous."
you were stunned. mouth agape, bodied stilled, eyes widened. leah payed no attention to your panicked state and continued on with her rant.
"it's like no one takes this sport seriously as i do. fucking third in the league, can barely qualify for the champions league, and constantly drawing to lower ranked clubs. this is all bullshit." she slammed her fist down on the wheel.
she sent a hateful glare at you then focuses back on the road. "im trying to get this team back in order and you ask me about some fucking appointment? you weren't even out there when i scored the only goal in the game and now you want me to go to your appointment? fuck off, nala."
"what?!" you yelled. the absolute nerve of this woman. "i was out there! i just went back into the locker rooms because it was too much for me. you know how i feel about overcrowded celebrations."
"if it was too much for you, then why do you even show up? just stay home with dolly."
"because i'm an arsenal fan, leah. i always come to the games when i can." you grip your stick so hard, you felt like it was going to snap in half.
"well you're also my girlfriend and it fucking hurt when i didn't see you out there." leah admitted.
"i'm glad you reminded me that i am your girlfriend because it feels like im your enemy at the moment." you weren't someone who cried easily, but you could feel tears building up inside.
leah huffed, "well until i figure this shit out, everyone is my enemy."
you knew she didn't really mean that. it was all just frustration from a hard fought game taking over. what leah needed was to calm down; a nice dinner, a steamy shower, and maybe a release in bed.
but what she said was true. arsenal was supposed to be a top club in europe along with their blue rivals, but there's been a bit of a struggle and the struggle will only get worse since manchester city and liverpool have been improving over the months. so you could understand her frustrations, but her reaction to such frustrations was not it.
"leah. we have four games left. you'll work hard in the champions league qualification round and work hard towards the league title next season, but for now you have to remember that you were out for so long. you're back and everything will be different."
your attempts to reassure your girlfriend was slowly working. you were right, she was gone for half the season (that even included missing the world cup), so of course everything was thrown off course.
"nala, i'm not a striker. i'm not a big moment player. i shouldn't have this much impact on a team of world class players."
"but you do and you should take faith in that. you're a leader, so act like it." you paused for a second, "but don't be a leader tomorrow because i need you to be at my appointment tomorrow. it's about my eye surgery."
"you're still going through with that?" leah was officially calm now. her focus shifted onto you and only you.
you sighed and leaned your head against the car frame, "i'm not sure."
leah sent a genuine smile towards you. "well, you don't need to get this surgery. you're perfect the way you are and i, and so many other people, love you."
you couldn't help but giggle as your body finally relaxed. "thank you, sweetheart. i really needed that reassurance of your love after your little episode just now."
leah joined in with her own giggles, "i can reassure you later tonight as well."
"i'm sure you can, love."
"this was better than i thought." leah compliments as she wiped the sauce from her lips. the two of you decided to pick up japanese takeout before heading back to your shared flat. leah wasn't a fan of getting japanese takeout, but you convinced her into getting it anyway.
"i told you it would be good." you put down your fork and called for your service dog, dolly. "dolly, can you go grab a trash bag."
dolly ran off into the kitchen. leah smiled fondly at the dog, "she's such a good girl."
you smiled as well, "she is isn't she. she's well trained."
leah licked her bottom lip and stared deep into your profile. she sat lazily on the couch, her legs spread completely open, her left hand rested on her left thigh while her right arm rested on the frame of the couch behind you.
she looked so relaxed, so full, so content, a contrast compared to earlier. she was still wearing her dirty kit from earlier's match, but you didn't mind. you liked when she stayed in her dirty kit at home, something about it turned you on. seeing the dirt patches on her shorts and the small blades of grass sticking to her dirty, sweating skin was a sign of how hard she worked and you loved how hard leah worked.
dolly returned with the bag. leah quickly takes the bag from dolly's mouth and shoves it to her left side. she signals dolly to go into her playroom at you sit with your hand out (waiting for the bag to placed into your palm).
"nala. did i impress you out there?" she asked in her sultry accent. you started to shift. "did i rock your world? hm?"
you felt your cheeks heat up and warm feeling between your thighs. her right hand now playing with your hair, massaging your scalp.
"answer me, nala."
"yes, sweetheart." you answered in a shaky voice.
leah coo'ed in your ear, "you're such a good girl for me. so patient with me even when i yell at you. you're the perfect woman."
"leah.."
"you're such a perfect woman that you're gonna get on your knees and suck me off right?"
her grip on your hair tightened as she forces you down gently onto the floor in between her legs. she burns a hole right into your forehead as your hands shakily reach for the hem of her dirtied white shorts.
you've had sex with leah many times before, but you couldn't help but shake every time. not because you were scared or nervous, but because you knew what leah was capable of when it came to sex and you couldn't contain your anticipation.
"relax, princess." leah assured. "give me what i want and i'll give you what you want."
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waitmyturtles · 4 months
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Last Twilight, episode 12: final reflections
Wow. It took me all of this past weekend to process this finale, notwithstanding the usual life craziness that has dogged me lately.
Let me preface this whole thing by saying that I'm confused by what I watched. I'd say that, overall -- I actually quite liked this series, and I especially, absolutely ADORED JimmySea, Namtan, and Mark, and their acting. JimmySea kicked major ass, and I really hope they get another big and complicated show to chew on.
I also want to say that between episodes 11 and 12, I felt that I saw uncharacteristic editing clunkiness from Aof Noppharnach and his team that left a lot of necessary emotional and ethical processing on the cutting room floor. I think that's what's ultimately making me feel uneasy about the process of watching this, but -- funnily enough, I'm not nearly as "angry" about the ending as I was with other bad shows that fell apart in their last quarter recently. It was obvious that MhokDay were going to get together.
But I needed to walk a few more steps with them on their journey to that end.
Before I got my eyes on the finale, a few reactions on social media, from Tumblr to Twitter gave me the case of the jibbles. Namely: that the story of Last Twilight would have worked better if Day had stayed blind through the end.
I wasn't really understanding how that construction could work without walking through some sort of ethical minefield.
Now that I've seen the finale -- especially that infamous 4/4 segment -- I understand better what those arguments were saying.
Yet, I'm still dogged by a kind of ethical confusion here. And maybe that was one of the points of this finale, another one of Aof Noppharnach's perhaps now-famous-or-infamous emotionally inconclusive endings.
To me, there are two ethical potholes that this show stumbled on:
1) The ethics WITHIN the fictional piece itself for a character to not depict the process of considering the various fates he might face vis à vis a potentially reversible impairment, and
2) The ethics of a REAL audience ultimately wanting a different outcome for a fictional character to NOT have an impairment reversed.
TL;DR — I don’t think Last Twilight spent enough time having Day consider the permanence or impermanence of the various fates he faced, including permanent blindness. I don’t think the characters, and as such, the audience, spent enough time understanding that a corneal transplant was always going to be Day’s endgame.
Last Twilight was marketed as a show focused on disability, on a man going blind in a society that prioritizes the able-bodied, and how he would adjust to his disability, and of course (this being GMMTV), his falling in love. As fans, we were prepared to receive a whole show about a character with a disability, not as a side pairing, à la Heart and Li Ming in Moonlight Chicken.
It so happened that Day's visual impairment was corneal deterioration -- a condition that could lead to permanent blindness, and thus qualify him for a corneal transplant.
What I'm struggling with is the crux of the ethical dilemma that this show was ALWAYS going to have to deal with: that a corneal impairment of the kind that Day experienced, in the prime of his life, could very well be reversed with surgery, a surgery that has tremendous success rates.
As such -- as we got that clarification in drips throughout the series -- this show was actually not ONLY going to be about the newfound adjustment of a recently-impaired man to an ableist society. It was ALWAYS going to have this door of ANOTHER major change, the reversal of the impairment, just slightly cracked open. I'm not sure that I, as a viewer, was fully prepared for this, even as Night and Mae Mhon spoke about "eye donations" as givens in the middle of the series. I believe the show needed to be much louder, earlier, about the "hope" that Day could "go back" to "living a normal life," instead of framing the high majority of the show around his adjustments to his impairment.
As we went through Day's adjustment to life outside of his room, I believe we needed to hear, FROM DAY HIMSELF, that a corneal transplant was a conclusion that HE believed in, that HE wanted. A failure of this series was that we unfortunately only heard that from his family members, leaving us to only ASSUME that the conclusion of the reversal of his impairment was ALSO Day's intention.
For a story that was very much about an individual's developing agency and self-advocacy: I believe I needed to hear from Day himself that he was good and ready for the final surgery. I only assume that was the case, as I saw his own body and mind in the hospital. But I believe, for dramatic success, that I could have used a basic, "I'm ready," from him, to make segment 4/4 more complete and contextual, against the story of adjustment and resilience we had so far seen before then.
And what a story of adjustment and resilience we had gotten, as Day had established a full career for himself, without Mhok next to him, during one of the time jumps of episode 12.
For my sake, as I process what I watched this weekend, I want to come to grips with what I thought were the major themes of this show, and see if I can come to some sort of sensible conclusion about what happened here.
This show was focused on:
1) the romance between Day and Mhok, 2) Mhok's caretaking and companionship being the lever to help Day out of his room and back into the world from which he had retreated after the onset of his visual impairment, 3) Day slowly learning how to function again in a society that prioritizes the able-bodied vis à vis his visual impairment, 4) Day learning how to self-advocate for himself in the face of those who condescend to him and/or keep him trapped in compassion bias postures,
and more that I'm sure I'm missing, but those are the themes that resonated the most with me.
I think the general feeling on Tumblr is that, save for the romance, that themes 3 and 4 were contradicted out of existence in the face of the sudden flip to the surgery of segment 4/4.
I think not hearing from Day himself that he was ready and willing for the surgery was a lost moment. I don't believe Day was ever acting as if he would choose anything else OTHER than surgery throughout the series. BUT, AT THE SAME TIME: what we had watched prior to 4/4 was his story of adjustment.
My biggest ethical concern here, vis à vis the audience reactions that I've read, is that NO ONE -- in fiction or in real life -- owes me a story of heroism. If there is an individual who has been impaired since birth, or is dealing with a degenerative condition later in their life, and has the opportunity to address or reverse the condition, who am I to say that that individual SHOULD NOT address their condition?
For me, this is huge. I believe this is a huge ethical dilemma that Last Twilight ultimately does not face. I wish this series had been much more centered, earlier on, about the utter REALITY that Day could have his condition reversed by surgery, in words he'd say himself, rather than assumptions made for him, on behalf of his family, who.... I presume were established to be some sort of legal conservators for him, as Mhon continued to be the one to receive eye donation text messages.
(I concede that I don't know if this is a more common set-up for disabled individuals in Thailand, as I would assume in the States, that Day himself would have been the one to receive that message directly.)
For this show to have seemed emotionally and artistically complete: I needed to hear from Day himself that surgery was an endgame that he was banking his hopes on. I also needed to understand, much more statistically clearly vis à vis the show, of the absolute risks that Day faced towards having permanent blindness for the rest of his life. Because the show ALSO needed to focus on the establishment of the romance between Mhok and Day, we missed out on the show taking time to explain to us, the viewers, of the absolute risks that Day faced in any of these scenarios -- and thus, we would have had MUCH more context into the nuances of the resilience that Day needed to establish for himself as he re-adjusted to society, with his numerous fates lying before him.
I'm going to borrow the words of @hallowpen in their final review here, to say that this show at the end needed much more "breathing room." I think @hallowpen is so right in saying it like this, because these two factors that I just laid out, geez -- the first 7/8ths of the series being about Day's social adjustment against the utter suddenness of the successful surgery and his sudden jump back to what's been translated as his "normal life" -- just clash so tonally. (I do wonder if we're getting as nuanced a translation on "normal" as we could be.)
I think this is about the most confused final review of a show that I've written. There is an ethical heaviness to all of this that's weighing on me, that I think I still need time to comb through.
I also feel that I simply do not know enough, by way of my lack of cultural competency into how Thai society approaches issues of public and private health, if Day’s unseen choice to get the surgery would have been a given among majority Thai audiences, AND that majority Thai audiences would not have asked for the kind of internal debates that I think the show could have used.
I feel thrilled that Day can see Poomjai/Mee, after making that wish in episode 11.
But I think, if this show was about a journey for someone to learn how to successfully advocate for his own agency -- that, at the very end, I needed to see that agency exercised, by him, to get to the part of the reversal of the impairment that I assumed he wanted.
Again: Day doesn't owe me his story of heroism. If fiction doesn't want to give me that, from a character with a recent impairment, I don't have the right to ask for it.
But the missing bits of artistry to get me, the viewer, to only an assumption, has led me to surprising ethical places, that will leave me wondering about what happened in this series for a long time.
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People: "You have no evidence!" You: "Here are archives showing exactly what she said and did." People, louder: "No evidence!" *Trump impression starts* "There's good people on both sides! Both sides are equal! *generic I'm-an-enlightened-centrist nonsense*"
It's wild how every single person Lily has ever been friends with or dated all describe abusive behaviors, everything she's ever said including shit that's still up on her blog is awful and abusive even to people she herself describes as victims of abusers, her videos are full of unhinged content ranging from screaming that staff on The Legend Of Korra got sexual gratification from animating Korra fighting to calling a NB Jewish person pro-Nazi, and every archived page from the Wayback Machine shows someone who is manipulative, violent and sexually predatory, but somehow, someway, this is a thing where the enlightened thing is to be neutral towards Lily.
Lily literally said - and this was a lie, so she said this thinking it made her look good - that her sister, who she told us was groomed by a pedophile, was psycho for having been groomed and fucked by an adult as a child. That's the kind of thing she says to make herself look better. That's the kind of person she is, she says "this person was fucked by an adult as a child so they're garbage" and the fact that it was a lie makes that statement more unhinged, not less. Most people when lying don't go, 'How do I make people doubt my sister's statements that I abused her? I know, I'll say she slept with someone as a kid and is therefore untrustworthy, and I'll use ableist language to imply that you shouldn't believe CSA victims because CSA makes you crazy.' Most people, when lying, wouldn't go with 'haha she got raped haha' because that's just not how the mind of a good person works.
And this is the person who we're supposed to be all "well people who like AND dislike her get harassed so who's to say what the truth is?" about? Uh, Lily has told all of us who she is, in her own words. That's what the truth is. The truth is that she thinks CSA makes you crazy, that she will lie to others and slutshame her sister as if being sexually abused as a child would make her a slut, and that's the kind of thing she'll say because she genuinely thought everyone reading it would agree with those takes. She said that to make herself look better.
People are really out here going, "Other than her word, the word of all her victims, the archived pages, the screenshots, her writing, her videos which are currently still up where she says in her own voice some of the most deranged things you've ever heard and shows an image of a game called RapeLay where you rape women and a literal 13 year old child - other than all that, what proof do we have she isn't a great person?"
By that logic, we don't have any proof that anyone who isn't in prison isn't a great person. If her own words still up on her tumblr and in her videos read in her own voice don't count, does anything?
I wish people would say with their whole chest, "I know she's awful, and I like it." instead of going "uhhh both sides idk"
THANK YOU!
Wait....she dug up RapeLay...? The only reason I even know about that game's existence is because it popped up on a Most Offensive Games list video back in the 2010s. That game is OLD and LONG FORGOTTEN...Which means she specifically sought it out. I WONDER WHY.
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fiddlertoad · 7 months
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okay, you know, i am not NPD, but i will say it louder for the folks in the back anyway cause i see this one too often
NARCISSISTIC ABUSE IS *NOT* A THING
Imagine if someone said ADHD abuse, Autistic abuse, OCD abuse. Yeah, literally what you're doing there. I know people don't mean it but it's low-key ableist, sorry peeps
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louthepunk · 2 months
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Louder for the people at the back. Helping disabled people is at worse going to be an inconvenience for you but nothing more. On the other hand, the lack of accomodations for disabled people mean CPTSD, intense pain, long term physical and psychological trauma, life / death situation.
Society expects disabled people to adapt daily for a world that has no place for them but gives attention to abled people when they make a tiny effort. Like WOW SO KIND!!
Hearing people expect deaf people to go through the hell of learning English, but hearing people won't even learn the basics of sign language and will give themselves medals when they made like one sign.
Abled people with no chronic pain will call in sick because they got drunk the day before, but will call their disabled co-worker lazy because they often need to take time off with the pain flaring up.
Remember what is an inconvenience for you can be life changing for a disabled person.
You may say that helping disabled people is not your problem because you're not disabled, well don't expect disabled people making accommodations for *you*. Being "normal" is not an excuse to be self centered, ableist and a bigot.
Remember that you are not immune to become disabled either with age or illness or accident. You could become a wheelchair user tomorrow. If your answer to that is "oh I will ....... myself rather than being in that state" believe me you will change your mind pretty quickly when you cross that bridge, it's just internalized ableism and it's avoiding the subject.
Remember that building an accepting and accommodating community around you will be beneficial for yourself sooner or later. So in the meantime, yes you will have deal with inconveniences when it comes to be an ally, but those inconveniences will save people's and maybe yours. That's sounds like a pretty valid reason to me.
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queerregulusablack · 1 year
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The way people are throwing tantrums about fem!Sirius because of how it relates to Wolfstar or Remus is actually rather concerning. She exists as her own person outside of that relationship and people can have headcanons that don’t revolve around ships. Also people’s takes on Remus come across as ableist as fuck and this is coming from a disabled person (needs to be pampered, could never play any form of sports, has to be super docile and submissive… go choke if you think that).
Say it louder for those in the back!!!!!!!
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sweetestlamb · 2 years
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Lonely no More
Summary: Young-woo and her father finish their conversation.
Author's note: Now while I completely understand why both Young-woo and Jun-ho said it's hard to love her, I really wanted to flip that narrative a little with this because I desperately need someone to tell her that she's easy to love even if she can't show that love in return in the same way and regardless of the opinions of ableist around her. This is just to fix my soul because I want to go back to the happy times in this drama.
"Wouldn't I make him lonely?"
His breath hitches at the almost perfectly enunciated words of his daughter- his world and his sun, he's been revolving around her since she came screaming into his life on that rainy night. The light hitch in her words can only mean one thing, her eyes are pooling up with tears and her lip must be quivering now, her fingers nervously twitching as emotions ravage her body.
It was an image he had seen several times. But more recently than ever before and it never failed to cut him deep.
He has to blink away the moisture from his own eyes. Her suffering was his suffering. It had been that way since she was young.
But beneath that pain is guilt. Her words are oddly familiar. He hadn't thought that she would have been listening so closely that time, was achingly used to the way she would dismiss him when a new idea popped up in that brilliant mind even as he bared his soul to her.
There were times that he felt tremendously lonely, drowning in a sea of his own misery and Young-woo would look at him like a stranger, refusing to hold his hand when they walked together. He had seen other parents and their children and he'd selfishly wondered.... wished..... imagined.
But he knows that he shouldn't have shared that not when she was clearly grappling with her relationship with others. Not when the world already shunned her for her very existence, his love needed to be louder than their hate.
"Young-woo, my daughter appa was wrong. I only told you about the times that you made me feel lonely. But there were other times, times when you were the only thing that kept me going. You made me feel loved just because you were there, needing me. I didn't need anything else, knowing that you would be home made it easier to get through the day. Having you made it easier to get through life."
He remembers her taking her first steps, racing down the hallway as he crouched low with a proud grin on his face with arms wide open only for her to storm past him and clutch at her dolphin plushie. There had been a pang and a grimace but seeing those huge eyes light up erased any jealousy he felt immediately.
"I'm your father but I'm still learning to understand you."
Her silence was deafening on the other end. The sounds of crickets and other creatures echoed outside his window.
"But you still love me?"
"I do. Love is just another form of understanding. I don't always understand your head but I know your heart."
He takes a deep breath, this will be the most difficult part. It would be the same for any father he's sure. Letting go.
"Do you think Lee Jun-ho ssi understands my heart?"
He smothers the petty urge to reply that the punk better if he was willing to play tongue hockey with his daughter on his doorstep.
"I think he wants to. So you can't decide if you make him happy or not."
"So how do I know?"
It feels nice. To have her come to him and ask him these questions, to know that someone else is looking after her when he's not there.
"You ask him or look into your heart. Does he seem unhappy with you or are you unhappy with yourself?"
Another soft hitch on the line and it breaks his heart because it can only mean one thing.
He blinks another tear away.
"Young-woo, do you think someone can love you?"
He has to know the answer, but simultaneously wants to hang up before she can answer.
What he truly wanted to know was if she loved herself.
Her breath is thick on the other line, her tears more than obvious now. Not that he's faring much better.
"No. Loving me is hard."
He inhales and exhales deeply, feeling like this conversation has drained him of all his energy.
"I'm sorry if I made you think that way too. Loving you isn't hard, it was the easiest thing I've ever done in my life. I've never met this boy but if he's everything you said he is then it's easy for him too."
"It's for Lee Jun-ho ssi to love me?"
He can hear the disbelief in her voice and he regrets not saying all this earlier.
He nods his head, a smile spreading on his face as her voice starts to brighten. It's only because of the quiet of the night that he hears the foreign voice through the phone, it's decidedly male.
"Yes."
Then everything is a blur as Young-woo gasps loudly in his ear before stuttering out a quick goodbye and he's left clutching the device with tear streaks down his face.
He grins at his phone.
That punk was coming over for dinner his daughter was no harlot after all.
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strangerpeace · 2 years
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I didn’t think this was still a thing until I found myself working in an insurance office, but it is still the case:
Modern procedural crime dramas are the cordyceps of fiction.
Let me explain.
So I’m an elder millennial. I remember the big brouhaha with Senator Joe Lieberman’s public freak out about Mortal Kombat and Night Trap. I remember Tipper Gore freaking out about Prince. And of course, all of the moral panics whipped up by the crypto-fascist right involving everything from Teletubbies to the NBA.
But I also remember three shows that helped set up not only the modern procedural crime drama fervor of the early 2000s, but also this really bizarre true crime thing that’s been going on since people figured out that you can listen to assholes pontificate on something called a podcast.
Those three shows, dear Readers, were Rescue 911, COPS, and America’s Most Wanted.
if I could, I would punch those shows in the cop dick with the force of an entire Tom Morello.
Anyway, these three shows basically invited viewers to participate in the panopticon and look for “anything suspicious”. This of course, ramped up to 12000 out of 10 after 9/11. When these shows became a little too passé, and Fox News started taking the moral alarmist place, then we started getting even louder copaganda with Law & Order SVU, CSI: Blue Color Grade/Green Color Grade/What is David Caruso Doing Edition, and so on.
Ok ok you know all this, let’s get to the part where Pedro Pascal in a plaid shirt has to fight procedurals with land mines and what have you.
One of the hallmarks of office culture is ~boredom~. And when people, especially middle-aged ladies of a certain lack of melanin, get bored—they start craving stimulation. This, combined with the trauma of having to navigate a horrifically violent patriarchal and ableist culture, means that they are looking for the threat. The mystery. And their interpretive apparatus, rather than thinking critically about their fandom (like…Idk…most of the fandoms here?) buy into the faux-realism, are infected by it…
and next thing you know, you get a building full of amateur cops (copabees? the worst chain restaurant) who, in trying to solve the mystery of “Why is a car leaving the parking lot at 7:30 in the morning?” arrive at… and I quote…
“IS SOMEONE LIVING IN THE BUILDING OVERNIGHT? IS THE NEW TEMP LIVING IN THE BUILDING? SHOULD WE REPORT IT???”
Folks, I was new temp. Folks, I used to teach critical thinking. Folks, these people have lost their agency and faculty to Detective Stabler.
How do I give it back to them?
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1863-project · 2 years
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Something that fascinates me...and not in a good way...is that people are so quick to call out sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. but balk at doing the same for ableism.
People are actively willing to make points about those things - this site, for example, is full of discussion on LGBTQIA+ stereotypes and how certain media depictions have set public perception of people who fall under the rainbow back - but when it comes to disabled and mentally ill people speaking up, so few people want to listen right now...even other disabled and mentally ill people.
And it does get frustrating when you’re out in the world and can see how public perceptions of you currently are, and how stereotypes and media portrayals affect how people see you in the real world. Recently, I had a library patron refer to me as “weird” because I was overly-enthusiastic about solving her problem and my voice got too loud. It was demeaning, and she left before even allowing me to finish solving the issue. It was a reminder that autistic people like myself are still seen as “other.” I usually mask pretty well, but when a patron gives me a hard time, like this woman was doing, the mask slips sometimes, and so my voice got louder. If I’d said I was autistic, she probably wouldn’t have understood, or perhaps might have made me feel even worse.
In the real world, I face microaggressions a lot because I’m autistic. People who I choose to come out to will often say, “But you don’t seem autistic!” because they learned about autism from the media, or from a friend of a friend’s high support needs child, or from Autism Speaks. When they say that, they’re saying “wow, you have a Master’s degree and a job so you’re not REALLY autistic, because you can do all this stuff and live on your own.” And if I don’t tell them, they say stuff like that patron did, calling me “weird,” or pointing out everything I do “wrong” but not adding in what I do right. Being an adult out in the real world makes it deeply apparent to me that we’re not doing enough to combat the stigma on disabilities and mental illnesses, based on how people respond to them, how slow they are to make things accessible, etc.
When you’re isolated in a social media bubble and your world is still small because you’re young and in school, you’re often insulated from these things. It really does hurt when you become more aware, start going out into the world and meeting new people, and realizing just how much people still fear or hate people like you, even if they don’t think they do. The progress we’ve made in the past decade is incredible, but things like how so many of the library patrons fear the homeless patrons who are forced to live with untreated mental illness remind me of how far we have to go regarding marginalized people in this society.
You can help, too - if someone explains why certain things are ableist or harmful to disabled or mentally ill people, it’s a good idea to listen and try to think about them and see if you’ve perpetuated things in your past. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, but this is an opportunity for growth, which is a good thing! We’re all always learning, and I know in my own past I had a lot of things to unpack myself. It doesn’t make me a bad person, just someone who learned more about the world and was able to take that information to heart and grow from it. So if someone’s pointing out something you said or did was ableist, they’re giving you the opportunity to learn and take it to heart. They’re not calling you a bad person, especially if it’s a post that’s general and not targeted at anyone. They’re just trying to help to make the world be a more accepting place, and this is a good time to be receptive instead of doubling down and deciding you’re being persecuted. If things start to get hostile, that’s another story entirely, but when people are posting things that are more general and explaining why they’re harmful, it usually means they’re just trying to improve things and that’s a good time to listen, especially if they have legitimate sources to back them up.
Just...if you’re willing to be receptive to information about other prejudices but not about ableism, think about why that might be the case.
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noahsteensonfilms · 4 months
Text
"The Food Is Wrong!"- a "When Only We're Around" short story
*I completely forgot to post this here, sorry*
(1 month post-movie)
"We will both be having the steaks. But make sure that his has the chips, vegetables, and steak not touching. Okay? He doesn't do well with the foods touching." Emiliano instructs the waiter, Elliot washed with embarrassment over his particular request, not leaning forwards until the waiter had returned to the kitchen.
"God. Why am I so finicky?" Elliot slaps his head in exasperation.
"This restaurant offers alterations, or the waiter would of mentioned it when I made the order. They shouldn't get mad when a customer wants an alteration." Emiliano assures him, then leans back, sipping on a glass of coke.
"Still... I feel entitled when asking. Couldn't we have gone to a McDonald's or Hungry Jack's?"
"Elliot. This is date night. On date night, we go to fancy restaurants. This dinner is like $150 so we better enjoy it."
Elliot fidgets, tapping the fork next to him repeatedly. Humming the song they had wrote the weekend they fell in love.
"So, were you able to get anyone at school to join your band?" Emiliano asks, placing thier hand on Elliot's to stop the fidgeting.
"A few people seemed interested. But a band ran by an autistic druggie isn't the easiest sell."
"Well then, that is thier loss. You are the best vocalist in all of Perth. They would be nothing without you."
"I'm glad that you believe that. But you are biased, because you want me to be in a good mood so you can fuck me tonight? Right?"
"Elliot?! That's a bit vulgar for a high class establishment."
"It's not my fault I get laid more than these uptight businessmen."
"2 steaks both medium well?" A waitress asks, holding thier meals.
"Yes, thats our order. Thank you." Emiliano responds, whilst the waitress puts thier plates in front of them.
Emiliano begins to eat his food, before looking over to Elliot with concern.
"You okay babe?" They ask, before looking down to Elliot's plate. Realising why he had fallen silent.
"Everything is touching." Elliot says, scratching at his arm. "Why is it all touching! It's not supposed to. It's all wrong!" By this point Elliot has become visibly in panic.
"Please tell your friend to calm down or you will both be removed from this establishment!" A waiter demands, rushing to thier table, which every other table is now looking to.
"My Boyfriend, thank you very much! We specifically asked for his steak, chips and veggies to not be touching each other. He has sensory issues. You ignored our simple request. Now he's having a meltdown and getting blames for it!?" Emiliano complains frustrated that they are getting blamed.
"We do not allow requests like that? The waiter says, baffled at Emiliano's insistence that alterations were allowed.
"When I made that order, our waiter made no mention of that. If alterations aren't allowed we should if been told that while MAKING the alteration. It wasn't even really an alteration either. It's just changing the arrangement of what was already on the fucking plate!" Emiliano continues, ranting about the ease of not having the foods touch, how it is ableist to not allow such a small inclusion.
"The textures they are wrong! They aren't the same! They shouldn't touch!" Elliot continues, getting louder each sentence.
"C'mon Ell. Let's just go get Macca's. At least they know how to alter a fucking meal."
~~~~~~~~~20 mins later (at McDonald's)~~~~~~~~
"I made a fool out of myself, Em. I was screaming!? Hurting myself?! I must of looked like an entitled baby." Elliot mopes, eating a 20 pack of McNuggets.
"No, babe, they were in the wrong. It was a simple request for accessibility reasons, and they were too uppity to respect that. That didn't deserve the $150 I spent."
"Can we have an extra long cuddle after sex tonight?" Elliot asks, resting his head on Emiliano's shoulder.
"We can cuddle for the rest of the night."
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j3ansy · 4 months
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I’m gonna say it louder for those in the back!
Calling a autistic character dramatic for experiencing sensory issues is ableist.
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askunderfamilyfrisk · 2 years
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Acceptance
(This is part of the canon story for Underfamily. Specifically, this story takes place on the first night when Frisk moved into the skelebros house.)
CW: sensory overload, internalized ableism.
We felt like writing this after receiving a very ableist ask (of which we deleted.) We have diagnosed autism, and do not appreciate ableism being directed towards anyone, regardless of whether they are fictional. There is nothing wrong with being on the neurodivergent spectrum.
Now! Onto the story.
------------------
Frisk couldn't sleep. The couch creaked beneath them with every toss and turn, stiff and frigid in a way they enjoyed for sitting, but not for lying down. Their blanket was too light to give them the stimulation their autism required for proper sleep, nor the warmth they desired in a house surrounded by snow.
But, above all else, they couldn't sleep because of the noise ringing within their mind. Loud, ringing voices, which gave them a migraine.
During the day, it wasn't too hard to deal with. During daytime, there were people to listen to other than the ones inside of their brain. Puzzles to be done. Homework. Cooking. Cleaning. Activities to slip into, to fixate on and forget the world.
But at night, they were too tired to put that effort in, which led them to hear the voices louder than ever.
"Why are they staying with those stupid skeletons anyways? This place is too cold! They could have gone back to The Ruins! Bothered the lady there until she let them back in!"
A gasp could be heard, and the girl Frisk could hear speaking in their mind- Angela - yelped, as if being smacked.
"Papyrus and Sans have been nice to us! You're so ungrateful!"
Frisk made a shushing noise and covered their ears. Slowly, they felt a bubble of shame rise in their chest and lodge itself in their lungs, as they realized how stupid that was. The sound was coming from inside them - they couldn't just block it out.
"...c-can we s-stop arguing p-please? I-I think F-Frisk is t-tired..."
Frisk praised Malo internally, their soul singing a song of gratefulness. He always was the most considerate of their friends.
...
Or, at least...he used to be...before...
...They pulled the thin blanket closer to their chest, hands trembling. Grief bubbled inside of them, washing through them like waves. The tears that fell from their eyes were like the grief sprinkling out with each time it crashed against the shore of their soul.
"SHIT! We made them cry again!" "You mean YOU made them cry!" "p-please...G-Gela, Lulu...y-you aren't helping..."
Frisk desperately squeezed the blanket in their hands repeatedly, trying to use it as a stim toy. But the materiel wasn't right. It didn't squish right. It was too rough...
Frisk suddenly realized just how badly the liquids on their face felt. It was their own tears, they knew that, but it was so gross, gross, gross, gross, they needed it off now.
They tried using their hands, but the teardrops only smeared across their skin, sending a shudder down their spine. The people in their head were arguing, but they were too focused on getting rid of the disgusting tears to care.
They tried to use the blanket, but quickly realized just how much of a mistake it was. The scratchy roughness of the materiel against their face made them yelp, and they tossed the blanket off the couch, bursting to their feet.
They were shaking, their arms and legs were flapping and stomping due to overstimulation, and their face was still wet. It was all too much. They were breathing too sharply and quickly.
They needed something heavy and tight wrapped around them, and they needed it fast. But God forbid they awake and bother the wonderful skeletons who had so kindly allowed them to sleep on their couch.
So, instead of going upstairs, they were digging around the living room. Trying to find anything to help. The couch cushions? No, too big. The spare jackets Papyrus had given them earlier that day? Even all together, they just weren't as heavy as a weighted blanket.
Frisk's vision was getting blurry. They weren't getting enough air in their lungs, and were going to pass out. They shakily forced themself to sit on the floor, their entire body trembling.
Distantly, their friends ...the people in their head were screaming at them, but they couldn't make out what they were saying over their gasping for air, the ringing in their ears, and the pounding of their heartbeat.
Passing out on the floor, with jackets, blankets, and couch cushions scattered around was going to be so embarrassing to explain to the skeleton brothers in the morning.
Their vision was going black, when suddenly, they felt themself get pulled into a tight skeletal hug. The tightness of it was just right. Perfect. It made their body and mind loosen up, each second it went by.
"CAN YOU HEAR ME, SMALL HUMAN??"
The tears on their face were gently wiped off by soft gloves, which they knew belonged to Papyrus. They shakily wrapped their arms around his spine, hoping it would send him the message to not let go. His soul radiated warmth, which Frisk happily bathed in, considering how cold they were.
"I WILL TAKE THAT AS A YES!"
His gentle gloved-hands fell on both sides of their cheeks, lifting their face up towards him. Their vision was cleared enough to just barely make out his kind smile.
Guilt struck through them and twisted in their stomach as they realized their stupid freakout probably woke him up.
"...sorry..." Frisk just barely managed to whisper. It felt wrong, forcing any noise to come out of their throat, especially words. But it would have felt worse not apologizing to him. They always were such a bother...
"APOLOGY NOT ACCEPTED!!"
Papyrus must have noticed how Frisk's lip quivered upon his rejection, so he quickly cleared his throat and clarified.
"BECAUSE!! YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE SORRY FOR! WHAT YOU ARE EXERIENCING IS NORMAL! VERY NORMAL!"
Confusion rushed through Frisk like heavy winds. What about flipping out over blankets and ones-own-tears was by any means "normal?" Nobody they knew had ever done that. Just them. They are the weirdo.
Papyrus and Frisk stared at one another, eye-to-eyesocket. Papyrus smiled at them, with an expression of such strong empathy and respect that Frisk had never experienced before, even from their well-meaning parents back home.
"Do you think he's also...yknow..." "You don't have to talk about it like its some forbidden curse, dumbass! Just say 'autistic'! The pause makes you sound bad!" "Well, geez, I'm sorry!" "...p-please stop yelling...y-youre going to t-trigger Frisk again..."
Frisk couldn't help that their eyes went wide. It...made sense. It made so much sense, that they almost wanted to cry again. They ignored the people in their mind, as they continued to argue amongst themselves.
They focused on their own thoughts. Thoughts of Papyrus.
His interest with the Royal Guard was a special interest. His repeated foot-stomp when agitated was a stim. His struggle making friends...his struggle with social cues...the way he took things too literally, or too metaphorically, just as they did...
Was it possible that its true...?
They wanted to ask Papyrus, but without words, was unsure how. So they did the only thing that made sense to them; they pointed at their head with one hand, pointed at his head with the other, and clasped both hands together, as if asking "are our minds the same?"
Recollection and understanding flashed through Papyrus's expression, and his smile grew wider.
"WHY, YES! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THINK AS YOU THINK! HOW LUCKY WE ARE, TO BE SO SIMILAR!"
That was all the confirmation Frisk needed. They felt tears building in their eyes once again, and hugged him as tight as they possibly could, wrapping their small arms and legs around his spine, as if he were a lifeline. Two of the people in their head - probably Lucielle and Malo - quietly aww'd at Frisk's actions.
Someone was like them. Someone understood. And the best part was, this someone was cool! Not some freak or weirdo, as they always thought of themself to be. He was nice, and gentle, and awesome.
Everything they always wanted to be.
"AH! I SEE THAT YOU ARE OVERWHELMED!! CERTAINLY, IT IS FROM THE JOY OF BEING SO SIMILAR TO SOMEONE AS GREAT AS MYSELF!"
Frisk nodded, giggling and sniffles as they pressed into the warmth of his soul and the comfortable stiffness of his smooth bones. He wiped every tear that fell from their eyes before it could bother them, and gratefulness and appreciation seeped within their soul.
"NOW!! I MUST SAY, YOU SHOULD HAVE INFORMED ME THAT THE COUCH WAS NOT UP TO YOUR STANDARDS! MY LAZYBONES BROTHER MAY SLEEP THERE, BUT THAT IS NO PLACE FOR SOMEONE WITH HIGH STANDARDS SUCH AS YOU AND I!"
Frisk laughed. It was amusing to know that the "standards" Papyrus spoke of were sensory-related and autistic quirks. It gave them emotions they couldn't properly describe, even in thought. The closest word to it they could think of was "validating."
To know someone thought of their symptoms as respectable enough to be described as "high standards"...it gave them a sense of euphoria they knew they'd never be able to compare to anything else.
"LAUGH AS YOU WILL, BUT I TAKE MY GUESTS QUITE SERIOUSLY!...AND YOU ARE A GUEST FOREVER!...OR AS LONG AS YOU SO DESIRE. SO I WISH FOR THE MOST COMFORTABLE OF STAYS, FOR YOUR EXTENDED TIME WITH ME!"
Papyrus blushed, looking away shyly, before stammering on.
"S-SO! I OFFER YOU...A STAY IN MY BED! WITH ME!...ONLY IF YOU THINK IT IS UP TO YOUR STANDARDS, OF COURSE."
Frisk's heart and soul felt as though they leaped in joy. Cuddling with him? In bed? With those big, definitely heavy, soft-looking blankets they had noticed (and craved) during their tour of the house?
It was the best offer he could ever have made. The people inside of them were chatting excitedly; seemed they agreed, too.
They enthusiastically nodded. They nodded so hard, they felt as though their head would fall off. Papyrus grinned, eyes sparkling with joy, a light blush covering his cheeks.
"NYEH HEH HEH! I KNEW YOU WOULD AGREE! EXCELLENT MINDS TRULY DO THINK ALIKE! NOW! LET US GO AND DREAM OF GREATNESS TOGETHER!"
He stood up, scooping them into his arms as if they were a princess. They squeeled and laughed as he skipped towards the stairs with them, seemingly forgetting about the mess they had made in the living room.
Frisk closed their eyes and allowed themself to tune out the world, listening only to Papyrus's soulbeat and the trousling of bones as he made his way to his room. He carefully set them in his bed - it was as soft and warm as they had imagined - and scooted his way under the blankets with them, prepared for sleep.
The voices in their head had finally decided to be quiet. Perhaps the people inside decided it was time for some sleep for them as well.
Frisk would sleep soundly and warmly, from then on. But, above all else, they would sleep cuddled with their newfound hero and idol. With their newfound brother.
And thats all that mattered to them.
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matan4il · 2 years
Note
As I rewatch S5 for the first time it's so blaring how almost self destructive Eddie breaking up with Anna was. And I only bring it for the people who swear Buddie will never go Canon. Also not even rehashing Anna.
But even watching the awkward break up scene, it was actually a "perfect family moment:. Eddie still was like no this isn't working. I don't think Anna was a perfect person because she was really abeilist in the beginning. I'm not above though allowing people to grow because sometimes that is the root of a good romance. But outside of that she was incredibly unproblamatic you know??
I guess in hindsight now after the lasagna family dinner scene (I would choose it over the muffins BTW), it's just like really sad. For Eddie in that moment I mean. Having to hurt her when you could tell he just didn't know how to do it. Couldn't even clear the day and pretend and do it later. It was like when he realized he realized and he couldn't go back. And that is one of the queerest things ever!!
Hi Nonnie! Thank you so much for this ask! ^u^
Oh yes, I def didn’t like the ableist stuff with Ana, but I did think it was a perfect representation of why Buck is the right person for Eddie. It was showing, not just telling, that Buck is the guy who will fight for Christopher, so that this kid would be able to fulfill himself in all the ways he wants to, while Ana (who as a professional should know better) is totally okay with Chris being prevented from some activities based on his disability. 911 couldn’t be louder on this, and Eddie saw them, and understood the differences, which is why he tells Buck in 414 that no one will ever fight harder for his son, and that’s what he wants. And you can’t tell me Eddie didn’t fall that much more for Buck after he saw that.
But he still thinks that the “right thing” is to provide his son with a “replacement mom.” On paper, there’s no one Eddie knows who would be better in that role than Ana. Except then Buck challenges him on this and points out why this is wrong, and the second he does, Eddie can’t deny it anymore. He fully accepts what Buck has shown him, which is why he’s in an impossible situation, he gets that breaking up with Ana will hurt her, but he also recognizes that what Buck said was true, and with every additional second they’re together, he’ll only hurt her even more once he does end things. It’s a bit like ripping off a band aid. You know it’s gonna hurt, so might as well do it already, so it will at least be done with and behind you as soon as possible... You can tell that the normally gentle Eddie is suddenly in such a rush to do it, he’s not being as cautious with her as he could be, and you understand it’s a reflection of how uncomfortable he feels in this impossible situation. But he goes ahead, he does it. That’s the power that talking to Buck and accepting his insights has on Eddie! It’s not even queer, Eddie is full on a Bucksexual, he has Buck running under his skin.
Thank you again, hope you have a great day, lovely. And as always, here’s my ask tag! xoxox
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heathersproship · 2 years
Note
I wanted to say thanks for this blog. One of the biggest “problematic” types of ships I’ve read and written since I was even 11-13 was adult x children characters. It was a way for me to safely explore sexuality as a kid who got crushes on adults (teachers, celebrities, fictional characters, etc) without actually pursuing dangerous relationships.
Romantization of forbidden relationships in fiction, reading loads of vampire romances as a kid, and so on were all escapist fantasies for me, and they still hold a big place for me.
The renegade teenager being romanced by the wiser, has-their-shit-together older vampire, the chosen one teen hero attracted to the older elf mystic whose maturity and world view changed their life, a younger character taken care of by an adult character through intersecting familial, platonic, sexual means as a way to wade through my own feelings without having to put myself through ridicule or danger.
It’s more helpful than not being allowed to explore it at all, similar to the way fundie Christians talk about abstinence as the morally pure thing to do.
Fiction helps explore fantasies, intrusive thoughts, personal histories, and more. Not that I think there has to be an overall Morally Correct reason to consume darkfic or problematic ships and the like, but antis loooove bring ableist towards trauma, neglect, mental illness, let alone it’s deeply insulting to compare the real exploitation of children to some teen who has a crush on Louis from Interview with the Vampire.
In addition tons of anime, for example, has teen characters, and if a teenager finds them attractive they’re either bullied for writing them fucking, or bullied for aging them up to fuck. Which then forces a teen to out their real age to a bunch of strangers online to prove they’re Morally Allowed to find lines on paper attractive. Antis make fiction hostile towards anyone who isn’t an adult. Ironically the opposite of their goal.
Firstly, you're very welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying your time here, and thank you for sharing your experience!
Secondly, say it louder (y'know, for the ones plugging their ears in the back)!
Thirdly, when you say "Antis make fiction hostile towards anyone who isn’t an adult," I very much agree. And I think it's a very specific range of adult they strive to cater towards since ageism is something I've seen (though thankfully never personally dealt with!): 18 to 21yos. Being on the younger side of Young Adult means:
they're still young enough to hide behind the shield of "minor" because eighteen and nineteen still have -teen in them (but lbr that doesn't stop some 21yos from claiming they're still minors)
they're chronologically old enough to access Restricted material without needing to lie (I imagine this takes off some guilt or shame)
but
they're not mature enough to handle the responsibility of curating their own experience, coming out of a time when the adults in their lives would take the initiative to sequester themselves away for the safety and benefit of everyone, not just minors, so instead of doing the same and paying it forward, they think they're gaming the system and doing better in their crusades to rid the world of X, Y, Z
If you're older than that, you's a pedo, you sketchy as shit, your mere existence is a scary threat, not even sorry, stop playing online and go pay taxes or something. Silly adult, the Internet is for kids!!!!!
If you're younger than that, you's a baby <3 a smol wittle helpwess bean, pure and clean, and must be protected from the big bad kinksters and the scary sketchy adults uwu!! Or, as Gretchen puts it:
You're new and you don't know things You need good friends who can tell you what to think!
Or, as Chandler says,
You can join the team (or you can bitch and moan) You can live the dream (or you can DIE alone) You can fly with the eagles or if you prefer Keep on testing me and end up like her!
Sometimes I'll see talk about proshippers "grooming" the underaged into "joining their side/liking problematic content" or some shit, when the reality of it is that a) bad people have the potential to be everywhere, and they are, and b) whether or not you’re open about the stuff you like in fiction has to do with your level of security. Because everyone likes things, everyone has different reasons for liking those things, but whether or not you share either depends entirely on whether you feel safe enough to do so. I've yet to see a single person of the proship mindset shaming another for liking/not liking incest, age gap, dubcon/noncon, or any works in which these elements appear, because they themselves aren't a fan. Because we understand everyone has different preferences, without restriction, and so long as no one is actually getting hurt we're good. Drawing blood is not the same as blood being drawn. Antis, on the other hand, will not hesitate to shame and call out those for the crime of liking something they deem unjust or impure by dressing it up as the noble cause of protecting the poor innocent children who can't save (aka think for) themselves, and the fear of being a target to relentless harassment for something so inconsequential as liking a show/character/dynamic is what keeps them cowed. Who wants to live like that? That's stressful as shit! The paranoia, the energy it takes to keep up with that? Exhausting! I'd much rather be in a house full of weirdos all doing their own thing than a house full of "normal people" who won't hesitate to throw you out if you step a toe out of line.
And then, when antis grow out of that age range, they start justifying why it's okay for them to still like the things they do as the chronological physical adults they were so afraid of becoming, because they're doing it correctly.
They're consuming responsibly by sending death threats, rape threats, suicide baiting, or doxing.
They're warning people about the dangers of consuming X, Y, and Z by labeling everyone who disagrees with them degenerates who get off on it/THEIR trauma specifically despite being an Internet rando at best and part of a friendship circle at worst.
They're not lewding the dragon loli they're sending CSEM/CSAM of real children to real volunteers on one of the biggest fanfiction archive sites on the Internet, and that's not even touching how they got hold of it in the first place.
They're blocking people they don't want interacting with them after provoking them of course so they can play the Wounded Gazelle Gambit because clearly they've done nothing wrong, they were just trying to start a civilized discussion and the proshitters went feralsavage.
Whoo, this was a lot. Thank you for sending this in, and I'm sorry I took so long to post and I went on for so long lol. Keep shipping! Indulge! That's what the media's there for!
Happy Heathers Day!
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kieraembers · 1 year
Text
Study Session
Study Session 
(don’t know what I’m doing with this, more jealous Sebastian , trigger warning for ableist insult) 
Sebastian was currently sorting through his notes to prepare for the group study session with Y/N and the friends she had made in the few weeks since attending Hogwarts. After groveling long enough that he was likened to a house elf by a passing third year , Samantha Dale saw fit to allow him to finally offer his apologies to Amit. Amit was far more gracious and immediately forgave Sebastian and invited him and Ominis to the next study session. 
Sebastian had spent the better part of the day rewriting his notes with Ominis’s dictation quill considering his own penmanship was too atrocious to contribute anything to the study group. It was clear that he was supposed to bring his DADA and Magical Theory notes. While Ominis brought his History of Magic and Ancient magic notes. Ominis was already tapping his toe, to rush him along. 
“Honestly, you’ll be late to your own funeral.” Ominis scolded
“I’m sure you'll be there to rush me.” 
Ominis scoffed in response and started to leave while Sebastian scrambled to get his things. 
"Wait, Ominis!" 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/46368088/chapters/116742895
Ominis ignored his perpetually late friend and started to make his way to the library. He'd been told beforehand that the group was meeting behind the fireplace and he would have to use an ice or water charm to enter. 
He was enjoying the sun on his face and a breeze when he heard Y/N call out to him from behind. No she was below. 
"Y/N?" He tilted his head to listen better. 
"Just a moment Ominis. I'll be right up." 
Once again Ominis was befuddled. Why was she beneath him? Was she on a broom? She had to be, he was on the Viaduct bridge. Ominis puzzled over her location when his wand pulled him forward. He walked until his wand ceased urging him forward and heard winding gears and metal against metal. 
"Pull me up please" he heard beneath him. Ominis reached his hand down until he felt her warm hands clutch his. 
"What are you doing down there? What is even down there?" He asked as he started to tug.
" Well there was this puzzle and I had to solve it." She was almost out of what Ominis assumed was a hold in the floor. 
She started to mention a particularly meticulous assignment involving pages, when Ominis felt someone run straight into him and knock them both back. Ominis landed harshly on his back with Y/N on him. 
 "Ominis are you alright?" Y/N held his head in her hands and felt around his scalp. 
" I'm fine, just a bit jostled." Ominis realized his hands were resting on her hips and quickly removed them. 
 Y/N sat up and started spewing what Ominis assumed to be curses at whoever knocked them over. He picked up a vicious mix of Italian and Spanish curses, as if in her fury she couldn't decide on a language. It was very unladylike, especially since she was straddling him. As this was the closest Ominis had been to a girl he felt a blush and excitement overcome him. He covered his face to hide his blush. 
"Shut up squib, didn't see you and the cripple." 
Ominis felt ice in his veins. Y/N was quiet stood and helped him up dusting off his cloak. "May I borrow your history book for a moment?" He nodded then felt a rush of Magic and heard a sickening crunch with an accompanying shout. 
"Accio, Repairo. " She handed the book back to him and the moron who knocked them over cried out in pain. 
"You crazy cu-"  "Silencio, " Ominis snapped his wand back. He turned running his hand through his hair to smooth his hair back and fixed a glare in the brutes general direction. He heard stomping louder coming closer to him and braced his wand stepping in front of Y/N. 
"Stupify" Sebastian's voice rang out from across the bridge. The stomping halted and Ominis felt Y/N relax behind him. 
" I don't know who you think you are but you obviously know who we are. You became physical with the descendant of one of Hogwarts founders. If I choose to, with a few words to the right people, I can have you ejected from this school. If I really throw my weight around I can have your wand. Fortunately I don't even know your name." 
Omnis felt a smile break across his face " If I ever hear your voice again I will see you and yours ended." 
"I suggest you not linger in the common room until end of term." Sebastian added joining his friends. They made their way towards the library leaving the brute frozen in place, the spell would wear off in a few minutes. 
"Who was that?" Y/N asked once they were far enough away. 
"Flint." Sebastian answered, no doubt stewing in his own rage. " He's been on a mean streak since Black canceled quidditch. We don't speak much to him since he's two grades above us. Probably why Ominis didn't recognize his voice." 
"Troll faced bastard." Y/N grumbled. She grabbed Ominis' hand and squeezed. His new friend was very tactile, he assumed to compensate for his vision. "You had a nasty fall, are you alright." 
"Yes, don't fret." Ominis squeezed her hand back and released. "Though I would like to ask you to check me for dirt and the like" he raised his arms for inspection while she giggled and swatted at some of the dirt that had landed on his cloak. Sebastian joined in. 
"Well, if this is the new initiation to our study group I'd love to join in." Garreth chimed in from behind.
"I accidentally knocked Ominis over and we're just cleaning him off." Y/N said, still swatting at some loose dirt. 
"Hmmm, so this has nothing to do with the stupefied seventh year I passed on the way here? " 
The silence was enough of an answer for Garreth who laugh and smacked Ominis on the back. "Fantastic, that prat has been a thorn in everyone's side. Come on, I know Y/N has a whole feast in her pack for us."
"And you probably have some ungodly concoction you'll want to test on us."   Garreth laughed and pulled Y/N away from them towards the library. 
"Fucking Weasley" Sebastian muttered as the Ginger walked their friend the rest of the way towards the library. 
 Once inside they found the fireplace. After putting out the fire everyone bent low to enter and found themselves in a warm enclosed room with plush chairs, sofa and a small table with warm tea. It was decorated with a Quidditch poster, tapestry and a harp that was leaning in the corner.  Natsai Onai, Poppy Sinclair and Amit Thakkar were already seated.
“Finally,” Natsai handed Y/N a mug of coffee as she joined them on the sofa, her coat was handed off to Poppy who set it on the coat rack by the entrance. Natsai cast Incendio on the fireplace after the last of them entered. 
“No more members for this study group, It’s getting a bit crowded,” Garreth said, falling back on his arm chair. 
“Oh, I wanted to invite Imelda.” Y/N cupped her mug of coffee and began to sip. 
“No”  multiple voices rang out in unison.
“She is a bit prickly but I think she’s nice, and funny.” she argued.
“You like everyone, so your opinion doesn’t count.” Garreth teased. 
“I don’t like everyone.” she pouted.
“Name three people you don’t like.” Natsai countered.
“That Flint bastard, Peeves and my aunt Cecilia.”
"What did Flint do?" Natsai asked.
"Called me a squib" Y/N responded, not mentioning what he said to Ominis who also kept his mouth firmly shut.
“Flint has troll crap for brains, but Peeves is dead so he doesn’t count, and your aunt isn’t at this school.” Garreth added 
“That Slytherin boy who was mean to the Kneazles and his rat faced Ravenclaw friend.” Y/N added, rushing to find someone to dislike. 
“You don’t even know their names.” Poppy laughed. 
Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not good with names, especially with pointless people.”
"You literally can't name a single person you dislike in this school" Natsai pointed out. 
"I said Finch." 
"Flint." Ominis corrected. Everyone laughed while Y/N buried her head in her hands. 
Y/N sulked and started to pull out food from her bag. There was probably a holding enchantment considering how many lunch packs she pulled out. "Maybe you'll all shut up if you stuff your mouths." She grumbled. 
"OH, Samosas" Amit happily dug in. 
"Muchomo." Natsaid bit into her meal and leaned back closing her eyes. The spices wafted into the room and made Sebastian's mouth water. 
Sebastians and Ominis' pack was heavy and warm. Sebastian opened his to find a small iron pot. Half a cornish hen in a bed of small potatoes with carrots, onions, garlic and celery. The smell of butter rosemary, tyme, sage and a hint of lemon had him searching frantically for a fork. 
"I wasn't sure of your preferences since this is your first time joining us, so I did something basic." Sebastian was about to argue that this was in no way basic but he had already taken his first bite and rendered speechless.  Ominis was in a similar state of bliss, though he had used his wand to remove the celery onto a napkin.  Garreth and Poppy were eating a creamy potato onion bacon soup  out of a bread bowl while Y/N had a sandwich and something warm from her thermos. 
Slowly the group started speaking to each other. At first trading bites of their meal then discussing their classes. 
Notes started to be traded, Amit started to copy Sebastian's DADA notes. Y/N's herbology notes were handed to Ominis who unfolded his leather braille transcriber. Her notes were converted to braille on the side. The exchange of notes had them asking for clarification on a few topics and Amit grilled Sebastian on his quiz results. 
"I do love history, but Binns puts me to sleep almost each class. How do you manage?" Y/N whined as she copied Ominis's notes.
"Dictation quill, I got permission to use it in all my classes. They are usually banned in class." 
"Thank goodness. I noticed you dozing off a few times." 
"Well, I do have a viable excuse to close my eyes." Ominis quipped. 
Y/N chuckled then peered at Sebastian's work. "No, Nifflers come in about 5 different color variations. Black is just the most common after they reach adulthood." 
"Actually it's six if you count albinism. Didn't you find a white one last week?" Poppy asked. 
"She's more of a very light gray. So not albinism, just a unique coloring. And if we're counting mutations, melanism should be included." 
"It would be hard to differentiate since most are already black." 
"But not their bills, tongues, hands and feet. Melanism would present there too." Y/N added. 
Poppy and her debated on coat variations on different species for a few minutes. 
Amit interrupted with some excitement "Your paper on astronomical edifices and stone calenders from Mayans and Aztecs bring up interesting points countering the standard English understanding" 
"Well they do have a better track record of predicting astronomical events. Have you been to any of the temples? MACONMEX hosts events during the equinox." 
"No, but I've heard if it. It's supposed to be magnificent."
"My grandmother hosts. I already invited professor Shah and her sister. If your parents agree you can come along." 
Sebastian bristled in the corner watching Amit gush. 
"If you have family in Mexico why aren't you attending Castelobruxo or Ilvermorny?" Natsai asked.
"Because Hogwarts is the best school for an aspiring young witch." Garreth said confidently. 
Natsai and Y/N exchanged a look with each other then Amit. It was something Sebastian couldn't read. 
Y/N chuckled. "Actually it's because my father is working in Ireland and mother wanted me close. Father was schooled at Beauxbatons, he's from several old European families with a little native mixed in. Mother is from old pre-invasion blood. Grandmother would have preferred me homeschooled. Long line of priests and wise women." 
"That would have been a waste." Sebastian added. Again the three exchanged a look. Then Y/N spoke again.
 " Honestly, everyone was very happy when I got my letter. Mama wept when she saw the owl. She had been hiring muggle tutors and trying to find me a match." 
"Marriage, so soon?" Poppy said in surprise. 
"We all thought I was a squib. There are not many options for women in the Muggle world. So the tutors were meant to make me a more attractive bride, and my mother was trying to find someone wealthy and pliable. She would have used a love potion if push came to shove. But that would have been years away. I think she had her eyes on several possible suitors with substantial fortunes. One way or another she was going to make sure I was comfortable, and trapped. " 
"That sounds bleak. " Garreth said, dropping his usual glibness. 
"That's why I took so many classes. I'm trying to figure out what I'm good at, what I like.  I don't want the decision made for me. You all vaguely know what you want to be after Hogwarts. I'm still figuring it out." 
"Well, if you have trouble figuring that out we can always open a potions and treats shop together." Weasley leaned forward and smiled at Y/N who chuckled. 
"Or you could be an Auror with me. You're excellent in battle." Natty added. 
"You could study beasts with me and Granny."
"Ministry work might suit you." Ominis added. 
Sabastian stayed silent. The future did not concern him as much as the present. Anne needed a cure. Then he could worry about a future career. 
"Are you going to be an auror, maybe and Unspeakable like Professor Hecat?" Y/N asked. Sebastian looked up in surprise.  Being an Unspeakable sounded like it would suit him. 
"Possibly. But if nothing else, I think we all know you're already a fantastic kitchen witch." 
"I do love to feed people." She said with a smile.
"Excellent, maybe you can help me with my Butterbeer brew. We'll open up a pub." Garreth pulled some notes from his pack and showed them to Y/N who fell into a conversation with him about fermentation. 
That's how the group spent the next three or four hours. Trading tests, notes and going over each other's homework and projects. It wasn't until Amit checked his watch, did they realize that the library was due to close soon. 
"Best get moving before Madam Scribner gives us all detention." Garreth grumbled. Everyone started to gather their things. Y/N handed everyone a small bundle that turned out to be a miniature Dutch apple pie. 
Sebastian was about to offer to walk y/n back to her commons when she looped her arms through Poppy's and talked about checking on a baby niffler she was keeping in the common room. 
Garreth and Natty were still discussing charms together, leaving the two Slytherin boys and Amit to make their way to their respective common room. 
"Thank you for agreeing to invite us." Ominis told Amit when their paths started to shift. 
"Of course. Best of luck to you both." 
"What are you implying?" Sebastian's eyes narrowed. 
"Nothing, nothing at all. Oh look at the time. I should get back before the prefects find me." Amit rushed off while Ominis slapped the back of Sebastian's head. 
"I would prefer it if you didn't alienate someone from the study group. I haven't finished my school work that quickly since I was a third year." 
"I know. It's just. He was invited to visit her family." 
"He was invited to an event hosted by her grandmother, not to meet her parents for a possible match. And if he was it would be no business of yours, given your decision to not pursue her romantically." 
Sebastian held his tongue and stewed as they walked. 
"I may not catch the looks people show or expressions but I hear enough. To my ear she sounded as if she was being friendly and open. Much like she is with us." 
"Yes, but she's too kind by far. Someone will take advantage." 
"I'm inclined to agree with you. " Ominis avoided looking at his oldest friend. 
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