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042502 · 3 days

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☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The Unwritten Rule.

about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.

author's note. This is the chapter 6, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English. masterlis!

Anna's house is quiet and empty, and I stand hesitantly in the kitchen as I check her messages.

Anna's house seems normal enough. Anna drops things on the floor, his mother leaves half-eaten cans of peppermint candy that she always has with her everywhere. But I still haven't felt comfortable here.

I don't think Anna will either, but I feel even more uncomfortable than usual. I can't believe Chris is coming. I can't believe I'm here. Why did I agree to this?

Because I want to see it.

I'm not here for Anna, I'm here for me and I'm a horrible friend.

I can't help it. I still want to see it.

Anna threw her cell phone on the table with some anger, clearly she wants me to ask her what's going on. So I do it.

"What's happening?"

"The usual, mom is working late and dad doesn't call," she rolls her eyes and sighs frustrated. "Why do my parents hate me?"

"They don't hate you" This talk again? "Your mom is... she is what she is, and your dad is not always far away if it seems that there will be something else legal."

"There is always something else legal" it seems obvious to me. I'm like this bone that he and mom fight to get. Sometimes I think it could be a dog or a vase and they would still act exactly the same." I look away." “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t true.”

"They know you're not a dog or a vase" I'm not lying. I think Anna's parents know she exists and that she is their daughter.

I just don't think any of them care, it's not important to them, like it should be and I know it's really hard for her.

I walk over to where she is standing and put my arms around her to hug her. “You are better than them.”

"You think?"

"Completely."

"I would never treat my son like they do, when I have my children, I will make him love me more than anything."

"You shouldn't have to make them love you, Anna. They always will."

"No, sometimes you have to make people love you."

"You can't make someone love you" I laugh.

"Of course you can. Just know what they want it to be and eventually they will" basically manipulation...

"That's... horrible, I mean, but the look on Anna's face was a mix of rage and helplessness. "And what about being yourself?

"Tell me, what's so good about that?" He looks at me seriously. "Look at you for a second, you're small and quiet, so guys never notice about you. That's because they're stupid and only think about looks and things, of course, but still."

"Okay" I remove my arms from around her and return to my seat.

"Don't be sad" I bite the inside of my cheek. "It will be different in time, I'm sure of that. Besides, your parents love you in a crazy awesome way, and you know I love you. If I could have a sister, it would totally be you, but I like to think that we are already sisters. You do not believe it?"

"Yes" Does she try to soften it with a friendly comment every time she says something hurtful to me? but what I really wonder is if there are sisters where one feels like she is the shadow of the other. Yes there is a girl with a sister who sometimes makes her feel like nothing. In that case it would be Anna and me.

"Oh shit, Chris will be here soon" he changes the subject. "Will you wait down here and let him come in for me? I have to go get ready."

"But you look good" I admit that, if I wanted to see Chris, but I didn't want to be alone with him, not yet.

"I have to be Perfect" she smiles. "All you have to do is talk to him for a few minutes.

"Anna…”

"Okay, don't talk. Just do homework with him. You can do that right? We're going to do homework tonight anyway."

"Anna" I repeat, but she ran up the stairs.

"You are the best, you are great Adi!" He yelled at me as I went upstairs.

I grab my notes and look for a place to sit waiting for Chris.

I ended up sitting at the kitchen table, and when the doorbell rings I jump. I go to open the door knowing that I would meet Chris.

"This is new, I always have to ring the bell more than once before..." he finally looked at me and smiled "Ada, hello."

"Hey," he greeted, looking at the ground. "Anna is upstairs getting ready. She will be with us in a few minutes.

"Well," he runs his hand through his hair, combing it back. I could see how the strands of hair were messy. Jamás lo observó tanto, But I've been waiting and regretting that he shouldn't see me here and now he blushes, I want to touch him so much that my stomach is boiling and shaking because of it, my fingers tremble.

"We should sit down" I spoke at the same time he said 'Do you want to sit down?', we both sat down, we smiled at each other at that.

It's Chris, it's just Chris. I can do this, I've known him forever and we're friends, he's dating my best friend. I have to do this, be normal. Stop looking at him so much, stop wanting him Ada.

He pointed to the room in which no one in Anna's house ever sits, and cocked his head.

"I'm really a little scared about that room."

"Me too," I admit, still smiling openly at each other. I can't seem to stop smiling, and he seems happy, like he's glad to be here. I could reach out my hand and touch his. He's so close, I could just touch his hand and slide my fingers up his arm so he'd lean toward me and...

"I'm coming down!" Anna shouted.

Of course, he's happy because he's here for his girlfriend. What were you thinking, Ada?

I walk towards the living room, blinking several times to avoid the tears that burned my eyes, I hear his footsteps behind me.

I sit on the reclining sofa, so he and Anna can sit together, so then they can say 'Ah, my books, I have to go get them', go to the kitchen and avoid seeing them. I will come back and be clean in heart and mind, I swear, I just need a second or two.

In the kitchen, I gather my things and then head over to the refrigerator, resting my head against it. Then I had some cans of grapes and a beer for myself.

I'm calm, I'm relaxed. This will turn out fine.

Although I know it won't be like that.

Silence falls when I give him his soda, a silence I am familiar with, a silence I know. I look at him and notice that he casts his gaze into the distance as if he were looking at me, his throat passing saliva. Anna finally comes down. When she does it I'm sure she must see how hard I try not to look at Chris and how hard he tries not to look at me.

Taking a sip of my beer, my throat feels closed making it harder to pass the intoxicating liquid.

"Hello," he greets us both. "That's what you say when someone comes in, you know that? Why so silence?"

“me” Chris clears his throat “Is that the only beer?” ask.

"That's progress," Anna smiles. "Just for that you earned a kiss!" I notice how Anna leans towards Chris.

But the moment Anna intended to join her lips with Chris's, he stood up and Anna froze.

"I'm going to get a beer," his voice was firm, I rarely heard him speak that way.

"I'm going with you," Anna is quick to say.

"Okay, I'll be right back" then I see him walk past me and into the kitchen.

"Hurry up!" Anna's voice sounded bubbly. “Did you see it? Did you see that?" She approached me, whispering irritably.

"I'm sorry" I wasn't saying it because of what she believed, I was saying it because I regretted kissing Chris, but not that much.

"Don't do it, I'll fix this myself," she stretched her lips and walked into the kitchen.

A few seconds later he heard some sounds, her voice being soft and Chris's voice calm. Followed by a long silence.

Silence of kisses.

I left my beer. I see Chris return, his gaze connects with mine and I notice that in his hand he was holding a can of beer like mine.

"I like this more than grapes," he had something in his eyes, something that made me take a breath.

"Me too, obviously," I responded almost obligatorily, looking at my notes.

"I know" then I look up and see him smile at me. Damn it Chris don't make it so obvious.

Where the hell was Anna? Why does it take so long in the kitchen?

"Did you start reading history?" he asks me, like he's trying to make this all normal, but he knows it's not, it's not normal at all.

"No, I don't have it yet," I replied. "Did Anna call you last night?" I opened my eyes wide looking at him. “The things that happened, I didn't think would happen. But I'm serious..."

"Why are you two looking at each other so intensely?" Then my best friend appears, my gaze almost unwillingly moves away from his and looks at Anna. She was standing in the doorway looking at us. "And Ada I was only gone for a few minutes. Did you think I was gone?" true I called her.

“We were just waiting for you,” I shake my head. “You should sit on the couch.”

"You mean with my own boyfriend?" Chris rolled his eyes. Did he like her saying that? “Are you ready to pay attention to me now?” He sits next to Chris and kisses him.

I concentrate on looking at my history book and open it. I'm not even on the right page, but I didn't care about that. What really matters is not looking at Anna and Chris kissing.

I try not to wonder what he was going to tell me before Anna interrupted, I try not to think about how his mouth feels.

He looked up and Anna was looking bad, but her eyes were worried, Chris isn't kissing her, he's opening his own history book. He gives me a look and then looks away.

"We should get started," he tells his girlfriend.

"I should have known that Ada here would manage to embarrass you and put you in 'studious boy' mode. Ada, you really owe me for taking away my real boyfriend.

"Yes," I held that history book tightly in my hands. "I know I do."

author's note. If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^

taglist. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess @sturnlova @inlovewithchriss @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsgirlsblog @nsjsnshey @always-reading @y-s-a-p @h3arts4harry

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good-beanswrites · 3 days

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A little something featuring Fuuta and Es after talking about their criminal lack of interaction in fanworks with @waivyjellyfish ! You had such awesome ideas (a few of which I'm still bouncing around in my head to post at some point,) but this one ended up taking over my brain -- I hope you enjoy 😅 Attempting to answer the widely-debated question:

“Oi, why didn’t you hit me?”

Es looked up from their paperwork.

“Prisoner number three. Most people are glad when they’re not struck.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Es usually left the door open at this hour, in case anyone had any last-minute complaints before curfew. No one usually took them up on the offer. They figured that if there was any prisoner they could count on to complain, it would be Fuuta marching through their door.

“You hit all the other guys. You even hit some of the girls that were giving you trouble. So what? You think I’m too weak? You think I can’t take it?” Fuuta spread his arms. “I can, so show me what you’ve got!”

Es sighed. They put down their pen. They folded their gloved hands together, resting their chin on top. “Fuuta, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“As of right now, I have no reason to. If you’re referring to the interrogations…”

They reflected on the first one they'd shared with him. To be fair, the thought had crossed their mind. It would have been satisfying to give this rowdy prisoner a taste of his own medicine – striking him after such a dramatic charge at them. But Es was always good at reading people. It didn’t take them long to understand Fuuta was the type to lash out first and ask questions later. In fact, that was likely what had landed him in Milgram in the first place.

Although Es knew they weren’t here to do any reformation, they wanted to try to show these prisoners where they’d gone wrong. So, they resolved to act as the bigger person. They’d prove that senseless violence was just that. By keeping their composure, they’d show Fuuta just how childish he was being.

That wasn’t my only reason. I guess that's true, my actions weren’t all purely righteous. I still spent the entire time looking for ways to make him squirm… But it wasn’t all cruelty. I really did want to understand. I wanted to help. That counts for something, right?

Es never struck the prisoners out of anger, or as a petty show of power. It was a way to force the prisoner to mind their ego. When they’d gotten a bit too full of themselves, a bit too comfortable with the awful deed they’d committed, Es’ blow encouraged them to feel a bit more humility and guilt.

By the time the second trial arrived, Fuuta oozed guilt.

The moment Es entered the interrogation room, it was clear that he needed no lesson in humility. He hugged his arms to his chest. His remaining eye darted around the room in thinly-veiled hysteria. His voice trembled when he spoke. It didn’t require any people-reading skills to hear the remorse that underlaid all of his accusations and threats.

Hitting the others felt like giving a dog a tap on the nose after breaking a rule. Meanwhile, Fuuta snapped and snarled like a stray who’d been kicked time and time again.

Of course, he could never know any of this. Any way Es phrased it, Fuuta would misunderstand it as pity.

Well, wasn’t it? I thought he looked like a kicked puppy – that sounds a lot like pity. No, it was out of respect. Does that mean I didn’t respect the prisoners I did hit? No. I respected them too. Then, what’s the difference?

Fuuta was still staring at them, asking the very same question. What’s the difference?

“Each of Milgram’s prisoners is unique.”

They were met with an unimpressed glare.

Es chose their words carefully. “Each one responds best to a variety of treatments. Some need attention to be comfortable, while others need time. Some need validation in order to confess. Others, a bit of debate does the trick. Some need a show of force. You –” remind me too much of myself “– require something else. I’ve learned to change my approach depending on the person I’m dealing with.”

Fuuta’s features flashed with confusion, then shame, then his usual mask of anger. “Tch. How pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“So you just change your personality when it’s convenient? You put up fake smiles and fake attitude? Have some balls and just be yourself.”

Es was caught by surprise. “... I am. Those are all pieces of myself. I choose to bring out different parts when it would be most helpful.”

“Sounds manipulative as hell to me.”

It makes sense he doesn’t understand. He’s a very clear-cut person, with every aspect of his personality lining up in a way that makes sense. I find that predictability fun. Or, is it something that I envy? Could it be both?

They had no time to dwell on it, as Fuuta was struck with an idea. “Though, if you can do it on command, why don’t you give me the ‘you’ that wants to hit someone?”

He spread his arms once more, hands gesturing to his chest. Es pretended not to notice him wince. They remained in their seat.

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!”

“I will not.”

“You just said you can change your personality on a whim, so let’s see it!”

“That is not what I said.”

His good eye began to look frenzied. He raised his voice. “You scared? The big bad warden of Milgram, nothing but a big coward!”

“Stop this. You’re acting childish.”

“No! You’re treating me childishly! Let me see the Es that kicked Shidou! The one that slapped Kazui! Treat me like you treated them!”

“I hit them because they said something stupid. They deserved it.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I deserve it too! I deserve it! Come on!”

At the last word, his voice broke. He stumbled to his knees. He let his head drop. He sucked in strained breath after strained breath. Shidou would surely give him a lecture about getting so worked up with his injuries.

Es finally stood.

They made their way around the desk. They knelt on the floor in front of him.

“Why?” he wheezed. “Tell me…”

“Fuuta.”

Should I just go ahead and do it, just to make him happy? No, I want to talk it out. But what do even I say? I'll tell him that I care. I can’t. None of the prisoners understand that I care. Why? Why is it so hard for them to see? I’m trying my best, why can’t they see?

Es extended their hand carefully. They didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but in that moment their thoughts were too loud and conflicting. They needed to do something.

Fuuta saw the gentle intention, and immediately raised his own hand to strike. It froze midair, though whether it was from Milgram’s restrictions or his own hesitation, Es would never know.

Neither of their gestures connected.

Footsteps. Then Yuno’s voice, hesitantly from the doorway. “We heard shouting, is everything alright in here?”

Es retracted their hand. A beat. Fuuta dropped his, too.

“Yuno. Yes, we’re fine. Fuuta was just heading to bed. I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I said, I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

Es stood, nodding to Yuno. When she’d gone, they turned their attention back to the prisoner crumpled on the ground. They made an effort to quiet their ever-racing thoughts.

“Listen. I know you can handle yourself. I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. You’re strong. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see that.”

They held out their arm to help him up. He didn’t move.

“Sometimes you are a bit too strong, if you ask me. I mean, picking fights with your prison warden, really?” They clicked their tongue. “You should be grateful for a superior that gives you second chances.”

At last, Fuuta took their hand. He avoided meeting their eyes, but his voice had softened considerably from his rant. “The only thing you give me is a headache.”

Es offered a dry smile as they pulled him to his feet. “The feeling is mutual.”

#milgram #es #fuuta kajiyama #i fully intended on writing something silly/sweet so SORRY this was a lot of drama 😭 silly and sweetness coming soon i promise adsfsdf #i really do think es would see themself in fuuta to some degree #something about them being filled with audience voices and fuuta also being a reflection of the audience... idk...#it makes me crazy how much es cares !!!! their line at the end of baptism of fire about how they dont hate the prisoners #and they now have a connection that cant be broken #and they see them all as comrades #it makes me crazy!!!#they have too many conflicting thoughts/feelings of WARDEN DUTY to flat out say 'hey i care about you'#but they do!!!! ;---;#i had some fun writing es' internal monologue like that! i debated on making it specifically a conversation between voices (using 'you' or #third person pronouns) but i think this still gets the idea across well #i know es never actually gave a straight answer to the final question but i hope this still gave a good peek at their reasoning #i genuinely dont think es pities him but he IS a pathetic wet cat in t2 and that definitely influences their actions in some way #i believe your exact words were 'red-haired fucked up dog' and i hope i could do that image justice 😎👍#drabbles

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melto · 2 days

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OH DISTANCED TANUMA SITTING ALONE ON THE BENCH NOT LOOKING AT THEM NOT BEING PART OF THIS CONVERSATION ON PURPOSE....ARGHHH....like tanuma isnt like actually in this part of the manga so this addition of him being present in the anime always stuck out to me and it was always just a little bit heart breaking. tanuma suddenly meeting taki who immediately is taking natsume's attention and offering him more help than tanuma ever feels like he's been able to do. she's right to the point of offering information about yokai, notices that natsume is injured and is able to patch him up all while tanuma stands there and can do nothing but think about how like. absolutely helpless and useless he is, and that natsume now has someone better who knows about the yokai that he can talk to. tanuma thought they were getting closer but the distance is suddenly so great between them again, and he doesnt know how he's supposed to go about closing it now when it feels like he has nothing left to offer. and then later he runs into natsume and asks if he needs help and gets turned away, but at least nyanko-sensei offers some insight about natsume to tanuma. "he's so thoughtless" in reference to natsume not wanting to bother people by reaching out does feel like a genuine attempt to comfort tanuma. and tanuma runs into taki, who natsume did ask for help which can't. feel good at all, when he's so often pushed away but. well that's his best friend, even if he's not sure if natsume feels the same that's his best friend and insecure or not he's not going to turn his back or anything.

and with tanuma finding the information he asked taki to find....Gahh. iirc taki doesnt even come back in the manga to tell natsume that she found the information, and the anime having it be tanuma is pretty awesome esp with the way they've added him into it. he can feel like he's done something for natsume, and taki telling natsume means he gets to know that tanuma cares for him and isnt going to turn away. Which makes the like, difference between the sub & dub of this part crazy, bc the subs (at least the ones ive always used) taki says to natsume "you told me not to tell anyone, but..." and in the dub she says "he [tanuma] said i wasnt supposed to tell you that, but..." which ultimately is very funny. i love a girl who'll snitch<3 but gahh...GAHH much to think about in both cases. eats glass and all.

#tanuma i promise you'll get closer to ur best friend i promise you'll both get better at this i do #isaac anime posting hours

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andtheirmoonlight · 1 year

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#okay well NO not exactly #but the vibes are there #and it's awesome; and I mean it in the best way #watch Poker Face it's really good #THERE'S A HORSE LOOSE on the premises #somebody give John Darnielle some minor award too #he was hilarious #poker face #poker face peacock #natasha lyonne #columbo #rian johnson #detective series #atmposts

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gay-otlc · 1 year

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People on this webbed site (and also twitter and also tiktok) will identify as queer and then be shocked and horrified to find freaks and weirdos breaking the rules of gender and sexuality. This is the freaks and weirdos breaking the rules of gender and sexuality community, what did you expect?

#when i say we are the freaks and weirdos community i mean this in the best way possible #we are different and people see us as freaks and that is because we're fucking awesome #queer #pride tag #it's just funny to me. 'my community of people who proudly identify with abnormality are weird! how did this happen!'

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lunarharp · 2 months

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shirahama-sensei reminded me she has a thing for the teacher from pokemon s/v so i randomly went off on an au where qifrey is the professor. etc

#witch hat tag #orufrey #the first image is qifrey dressed as that guy. i'm glad she has an inexplicable attachment to some dorky pokemon man like i do #someone was like 'wouldn't it make more sense for deanreldea to be the champion' .... well no. not in my world .#it maps onto magic skill. champions aren't like the Rulers of the land they're just the most skilled at this thing #oru as a burnt out champion who's gently encouraging a kid like coco to reach him one day means a lot to me. i like pokemon narratives #agott went shiny hunting for the same thing coco had but cooler - just to impress her. she really is a pokemon rival type girl #pushing myself to the limit to prove my worth to you - to get to the summit first so i'm waiting for you..#and then realising it wasn't just to be strong - i realised i started wanting to see your smile. i wanted you to have fun.#i think coco would defeat agott at the end of victory road and then defeat oru & i'll probably draw one last thing abt that at least..#the image is very cinematic..the dialogue and music in my mind..I WANT TO FACE ORU!!!!!!!!!!#the super cool insanely powerful awesome champion is the spouse of my professor and he gave me advice at the beginning...no way....#btw the elite four would be the sages which is perfect (and maybe easthies as the first guy?) evil Team Brimhats #coustas as their renegade gladion-type figure. the gym leaders would be like sun/moon and s/v combined #travelling around facing the best students from different classes - so jujy and eunie etc.#i've barely thought about 'teams' or anything bc i care amore about the narrative side of things always lol #but idk. tetia with a swirlix - eunie would be ghost type boy - riche with small things but also a ceruledge or a steelix something massiv #and brushbug would have a final form which is really long like an eastern dragon- fluffy and with wings like a fairy. It's beautiful to me #well anyway *tries to move on to the rest of life now the brief obsession has passed*#obviously oru would be fire-type tho and qifrey would be water-type and they set off together and traded their starters etc.....it goes on

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ibrithir-was-here · 3 months

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Back from vacation! And instead of fixing my sleep schedule properly I made two fan covers of @tkingfisher ‘s fantastic fairytale book ‘Nettle and Bone’ cuz I have no self control xD

Also I haven’t drawn in a week and that’s waaaay too long for me. Anyway go check out the book!

It’s really fun and spooky and has the feel of an epic fairytale DnD campaign; with the fantastic cast of motley heroes—a sort of a nun princess, a fay stolen soldier, a dust-witch with a demon possessed chicken, a comfy fairy godmother who’s more then she seems and The Best Dog who happens to be made of bones—all off to save a princess from a wicked prince, while traveling through a deliciously creepy Goblin Market, a forest of sympathetic cannibals, and one of the most incredibly scary dungeon crawls I’ve ever encountered.

#my art #nettle and bone #t kingfisher #ursula vernon #book recommendations #fairy tales #fairytale books #dark fantasy #please understand when I compare it to feeling like a DnD campaign I mean it in all the best and funnest ways #epic and funny and crazy and moving #other people’s awesome writing #book fanart #book cover design #book covers

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shimmershy · 6 months

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Im impressed by how much you're art evolved to today, do you still think about your art in the past and how you evolved to today to obtain this level of quality and story telling ?

Thank you very much! :D It always means a lot when other people tell me my art has improved over time. I feel like I can definitely see it in little ways. It's just super nice and cool when other people see improvement too! Like wow it's not just me, I really have come a long way with my art.

But yeah, I do think a lot about the art I did in the past and how I got to where I am today. It's really fascinating to me how the skills that kind of come naturally now were all things I had to learn over time. Like to some extent, I can just "feel out" where facial features go now without thinking too much about it, whereas in the past, I know I had a lot more trouble with that. I feel like I tended to draw eyes too big and I had a really weird way of drawing noses. I don't know. I also had pretty bad same-face syndrome I think. But yeah.

When I'm sketching in my sketchbook, I like to flip through the whole thing and look at all the sketches I've done in the past couple years/months and look at the way they've evolved over time in a "big picture" way. It's cool. I think it's especially because although it's a little more than just a hobby now, a good deal of the improvement came solely from my passion and excitement to just bring ideas to life. I was never really "practicing just to practice", and although I did do little studies based on photos from time to time, most of it was just me noticing things and picking things up from the real world but also from art styles I really enjoyed. And wanting to create something that meant something, and just trying until I was happy with it. Like I definitely never had "natural talent" - that doesn't exist - but I've always had a passion to create, and I feel like the act of drawing as a way of expressing my ideas has always come kind of naturally to me, probably because I did it so much when I was younger. It's always been my "thing". It's just cool to see that passion I've always had turn into art that I'm really proud of today!

#ask #godofchaoss #sorry for getting kinda ramble-y I tend to do that. especially when talking about art and process stuff.#I love drawing sooooo much. did you guys know that? were you aware?#I don't know if all this reads as conceited at all. you don't have to read all that skdhfskd I just. I actually do think about it a lot.#I'm not trying to say I'm the best artist ever or even that I'm a good artist! I'm just like. happy with where I'm at.#because at the end of the day I'm not even doing it to be good or for other people to think my art's good.#I want to create stuff that feels important to me. I have ideas I want to make Real and drawing is my way of doing that.#and so it's like. I make things that are good To Me. and To Me my art is awesome!! it makes me so happy!!#and then sharing my art is just a bonus because it means a lot to me that the stuff I draw for myself can #mean something to other people too. :)#I don't know if that makes sense but. yeah. sjdfhksdf I could go on and on I'm sorry I have way too much to say sometimes.

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broke-on-books · 1 year

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Best thing about being a Scooby Doo fan: you can meet some of the nicest people with some really cool ideas and hcs, there's such an abiding love for the franchise, which on its own is just AMAZING, such a wealth of content to dive into, and I haven't even gotten into the fan REDESIGNS and aus and-

Worst thing about being a Scooby Doo fan: people irl in public will come up to you with some of the worst Scooby takes ever (Scrappy found dead in Miami, SDMI revolutionized animation, etc.) and you have to restrain yourself from getting into a fistfight with some rando acquaintance/friend-of-a-friend in public ALL THE TIME 💀

#THERES NO WAY THIS ONLY HAPPENS TO ME RIGHT #its constanttttt ughhhh #james gunn i fucking hate you this is all your fault 🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡#not the sdmi stuff but the REST #there should be a jail sentence for scooby crimes i SWEAR #also this one dude today UGHHHHHHHU #ive never even seen him before (apparently hes been in my math class this year?) but with all the seniors gone (save me bc i love a party)#there was like 5 ppl in math today (4 of them good friends of mine) and this dude would NOT let up with the scrappy sucks sdmi is awesome bs #like i was just like no i disagree with you every time he brought it up but like UGH.#i think scrappy got a bad lot and deserves a chance to be the best he can be and sdmi is personally unwatchable to me because of how mean #they are to each other/the relationship drama plots. whats not to get we dont need to keep hashing this #i didn't make it a big thing though bc i didn’t want to start stuff but ugh #the only ppl allowed to make fun of scrappy around me are my besties and even theyre on thin ice so like watch it bub #blah #scooby doo

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heartshattering · 25 days

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5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃

#hopefully the meds work but while waiting for them to kick in I get so damn nervous #and sometimes I do get nights where even on my full dose my anxiety is too overpowering and I just. Do Not Sleep #I mean I do eventually but not without spiraling first :')#way before I was prescribed sleep meds my longest was 3 nights without sleep while on a VERY stressful trip #I felt like I was gonna die and I did not sleep until I got off the plane and was back at home #(this was like 15 years ago already but it still haunts me fhfgsgdh)#my best friend and I were having a conversation today #and she was like 'not sleeping can make you hallucinate right?'#and I was like :') I get the hallucinations in other scenarios too #BUT I also get what she meant #not sleeping is really bad for me mentally which is why I can't do 'sleep restriction therapy'#and fun fact #a lot of my OCD obsessions revolve around sleep!!!#which is 'awesome' because laying in bed with insomnia makes my OCD flare up so like #the two get to feed off each other and make my life a living hell!!!#and don't even get me started on my sleep paralysis episodes #(which I like to think of as just my brain misfiring but that my aunt tells me is saints or demons trying to talk to me)#'cause she hallucinates too but hers are like 'spiritual' or whatever #same with my mom's hallucinations as well #and to add fuel to the dumpster fire of my mind and body is the fact I've been overcaffeinating again #which I've known not to do ever since I was in middle school and saw the pediatric cardiologist who specifically said 'hey don't do that'#fast-forward to adulthood and I still haven't learned how to handle anything #like. I have heart meds and sleep meds and migraine meds and IBS meds #and yes meds are good but like. I know you need to incorporate lifestyle changes as well #which I do for like 2 weeks until the next time I fuck up #I've been so irresponsible lately but like. ESPECIALLY today #didn't eat #took some meds on an empty stomach and forgot to take my other ones at all #had too much caffeine #stressed out over some stupid situations thanks to overthinking

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fictionadventurer · 1 year

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The Shocking Redemption Arc of Chester Arthur

To my great pleasure, I get to tell you about Chester A. Arthur. If you don’t know his story, that’s a surprising statement, because most people don’t even recognize his name as one of the presidents. That’s a crying shame, because this guy has the most fascinating character arc of any president I’ve come across so far. He entered the presidency as a despicable, corrupt, conniving political lackey, and left it as--

Well, I’d best get on with the story.

Chester Arthur started out as an idealist. He was the son of an abolitionist Baptist minister, and though he dropped the religion in adulthood, he remained devoted to abolishing slavery. He became a lawyer with a New York firm that argued several civil rights case, and he rose to fame in 1854 when he served as the defense attorney for Elizabeth Jennings, the Northern version of Rosa Parks. Arthur’s victory in her case led to the desegregation of New York City’s public transportation.

During the Civil War, Arthur got an appointment as New York’s quartermaster general. After the war, Arthur returned to civilian life and became a Republican “party man” who worked behind the scenes to draw in voters, funding, and supporters. He and his wife Ellen (called Nell) both loved the finer things in life, which drove Arthur to do whatever he could to gain fame, wealth, and social status.

This is where I need to explain the spoils system. For the first hundred-plus years of American politics, all federal positions were filled by appointment. When a new president came into office, he could award government positions to his supporters--"to the victor go the spoils". Federal employees were required to donate money to the ruling party. There were no requirements for education or relevant experience. Any job could be filled by anyone with the right connections. If you think that sounds like a breeding ground for corruption and cronyism, you’d be absolutely right. By the 1870s, the system was getting extremely corrupt, and there was a growing push for reform.

But not by Chester Arthur. He owed his career to the spoils system. Through his work in the party, he became the right-hand man of Roscoe Conkling, New York’s senior senator and the state’s “political boss”. Conkling was a flamboyant showman, a magnetic politician, and a ruthless man. He had been a major supporter of Ulysses S. Grant’s presidential campaign, so Grant gave Conkling control over all the federal appointments in New York. Conkling used his power to fill positions with his friends and supporters, and he was brutal in attacking anyone who got in his way.

Because Chester Arthur was Conkling’s most loyal supporter, he got the best federal job in the country—Controller of the Port of New York. Before income tax, around 60-70% of federal funds came from the tariffs at this one port. The controller got a salary similar to the president’s, plus he was able to take a percentage of all the fines they levied. At the height of his power, Chester Arthur made $50,000 a year, which is a lot when the average skilled worker at the time made $500. (A rough estimate puts his salary at $1.3 million in today’s dollars.)

Arthur was living the high life. He racked up huge tailor bills. He had a gorgeously furnished house. His job allowed him to force his employees to donate a percentage of their salary to the Republican Party, which gave him even more power within the political machine. He bought huge amounts of wine and cigars that he handed out to people he was wining and dining for the good of the party. His wife resented that he was rarely home because of his political work, but Arthur loved the machine too much to stop.

After his 1876 election, President Rutherford B. Hayes desperately tried to reform the spoils system, but was blocked every step of the way by Roscoe Conkling. Finally, in 1878, Hayes managed to remove Arthur from his position as port controller, under suspicion of corruption, which allowed Arthur to spend more time working for New York’s political machine.

In January of 1880, Arthur was in Albany working for a political campaign when his wife caught pneumonia. By the time Arthur got home, Nell had fallen into a coma, and he wasn’t able to speak with her before she died. He felt guilty over her death, and especially the lack of closure caused by his devotion to politics. But instead of changing his ways, Arthur moved in with Conkling and became more devoted to politics than ever.

Which brings us to the 1880 Republican Convention. The Republican Party was split between two warring factions—the Stalwarts like Conkling who wanted to keep things the way they were, and the Half-Breeds who wanted civil service reform. President Hayes refused to seek re-election (partly because Conkling had made his life miserable) so these two factions somehow had to agree on a new candidate. Conkling supported a third term for Ulysses S. Grant. The Half-Breeds supported James G. Blaine of Maine—who happened to be Conkling’s mortal enemy.

James Garfield was there to nominate John Sherman—the Secretary of the Treasury and the younger brother of the famous Civil War general—and I can’t go any further in this story before I tell you a little bit about him. James Garfield is one of the most ridiculous overachievers in the realm of American politics. He was born into a dirt-poor farming family (he’s the last president ever to have been born in a log cabin). At sixteen, he left home to work on a canal boat, but quit after he nearly drowned, and his mother and brother scraped up enough money for him to go to school. His first year, he paid for his tuition by working as a school janitor. His second year, the school hired him to teach six classes (while he was still a student!) and then added two more because of how popular he was. By the time he was twenty-six, he was president of that same school. He became a lawyer and was elected to Ohio’s state legislature. During the Civil War, he became the youngest person to earn the rank of general. While fighting in the Civil War, his friends put his name in as a candidate for the US House of Representatives, and Garfield won even though he refused to campaign. He then served several terms in the House, where he became popular, but he refused to seek the presidency, because he’d watched several friends become warped by their presidential ambitions.

At the 1880 Republican Convention, Garfield was the more popular Ohio candidate, but insisted he was there only to nominate Sherman. At one point in his nominating speech, Garfield asked the audience, “Now, gentleman, what do we want?” To Garfield’s horror, one man shouted, “We want Garfield!”

Garfield remained loyal in nominating Sherman, but the spark had been lit. The voting went round after round after round for two days, with the votes being split between Grant, Blaine, and Sherman, with no one getting enough to win the nomination. Garfield got one vote in the third round. In the thirty-fourth round, Garfield suddenly got seventeen votes. Garfield stood to protest, saying no one had a right to vote for him since he hadn't consented, but the president of the convention--who was secretly thrilled because he liked Garfield more than any of the other candidates--told Garfield to sit down.

By the thirty-sixth vote, Garfield had won the nomination.

Now they had to choose a vice president. Several of the delegates got the idea to throw a bone to Roscoe Conkling. He was furious that Grant had lost the nomination, and he was vindictive. Conkling controlled New York’s political machine, so without him, the Republicans would lose New York, and without New York, they’d lose the election. He had to be placated. So the delegates nominated Chester Arthur, his right-hand man, as vice president.

Conkling told Arthur to refuse the nomination, but Arthur accepted, saying it was a greater honor than he had ever hoped to achieve. That's putting it mildly. The only position he’d ever held was port controller, and he’d been removed from that. Plenty of people thought nominating him was a horrible idea—a man like Chester Arthur only one step away from the presidency? But other people thought it was a shrewd political move—it would placate Conkling’s faction of the party, and Garfield was young and healthy and would rule in a time of peace. It wasn’t like there was any chance he’d die in office.

After Garfield was elected, Arthur immediately started causing problems. He all but openly boasted of buying votes in the election—which was not a great look when it had been a close race. He was completely on Conkling’s side in his war against Garfield. After Garfield appointed Levi Morton, a Stalwart, as Secretary of the Navy, Conkling sent Arthur and another lackey to drag Morton out of his sickbed--forcing him to drink a bracing mixture of quinine and brandy--and bring him to Conkling’s house to get chewed out, which caused Morton to resign. Conkling forced another Stalwart Cabinet nominee to resign on inauguration day.

Then Conkling went to war over the federal appointments. At first, Garfield placated him, appointing several of Conkling’s candidates. But then Garfield nominated Judge Robertson as Port Controller of New York Harbor. Conkling was livid. That was the prime federal position, a major source of Conkling’s power in the party, and Robertson was one of Conkling’s political enemies. In Conkling’s mind, Garfield had stabbed him in the back. Arthur agreed, and openly bad-mouthed the president to the press.

Conkling and the other New York senator resigned their Senate seats in protest—a dramatic political move. In those days, state legislatures voted for senators, and Conkling believed that since he controlled so many New York politicians, they’d easily get re-elected to their old seats. Unfortunately, the legislature was sick of being under Conkling’s thumb. The election became a drawn-out battle, and Chester Arthur went to Albany to help Conkling in his campaign.

While he was there, the unthinkable happened. On July 2, 1881, James Garfield was shot at a train station by Charles Guiteau, an insane office-seeker. Guiteau had come to the White House every day for months seeking an appointment under the spoils system. When that failed, he decided God wanted him to get Garfield out of the way so the spoils system could continue. After he shot the president, Giteau shouted, “I am a Stalwart, and Arthur will be president!”

As you can imagine, that made things really bad for Arthur. He’d just spent months fighting the president tooth and nail, and the assassin had mentioned his name. Plenty of people thought Arthur had something to do with the shooting. He and Conkling both needed police details to protect them from lynch mobs.

Arthur didn’t want to be president; in his mind, vice president was the perfect job—a position with a lot of political leverage, but no responsibility. He went to the White House hoping to convince Garfield that he had nothing to do with the shooting, but the doctors wouldn’t let him in the room. He managed to speak to the First Lady, where he got choked up with emotion and was observed to be in tears. A reporter later found him in the house where he was staying in Washington, and noted he'd obviously been weeping.

To Arthur’s relief, Garfield seemed to get better. The bullet had missed his spinal cord and all his major organs. If he’d been left alone, Garfield would have made a complete recovery. Unfortunately, his doctors repeatedly prodded the bullet wound with unsterilized instruments, and Garfield fell victim to a massive infection. He lingered for months, slowly starving and rotting to death.

Through all this, Arthur stayed in New York and refused to take up presidential duties; with so many people accusing him of the assassination, he didn’t want to make it look like he was preparing to usurp the throne.

It eventually became clear that the assassin had acted alone, which laid the rumors to rest, but no one wanted Arthur to be president. James Garfield had been a man of the people. The working class considered him one of their own, proof that anyone could rise from poverty and become president. He was an idealist, a champion of civil rights, a family man who lived modestly. For the first time since the Civil War, a president had been supported by both the north and the south, and the country had come together in grief. Chester Arthur was Garfield’s exact opposite—a conniving political lackey who’d become a millionaire through corruption.

James Garfield died on September 19th. To the American people, it looked like their worst nightmare had come true. Conkling’s lackey was in the White House, and now Conkling would rule the nation the same way he’d ruled New York.

Yet, to everyone’s surprise, President Chester Arthur became a completely different man. In one of his first speeches, he listed civil service reform as one of his top priorities—a shocking move for a man who’d become president through the spoils system. Soon after Arthur’s inauguration, Conkling demanded he name a new Controller of the Port of New York. Arthur angrily refused and called Conkling’s demand outrageous. Conkling stormed out in fury and never forgave Arthur. (Arthur did later risk his reputation to nominate Conkling for the Supreme Court, but Conkling, ever petty, refused the position.)

Arthur didn’t have a complete personality transplant. He still lived lavishly, hosting lots of state dinners. He still preferred the social duties of the presidency to actual government work, and he was a hopeless procrastinator. Always fastidious, Arthur refused to move in to the rotting, rat-infested White House until they fixed up the dump, and he ran up extravagant bills during the remodel.

Yet, as a president, he was...respectable. He worked for African-American civil rights. He started a major process of rebuilding and reforming the outdated and corrupt navy. He did sign the Chinese Exclusion Act, but he had vetoed an earlier, harsher version and only signed a much-reduced one (that probably would have been voted in anyway if he’d vetoed it). That remodel of the White House, even if it ran over-budget, was long overdue.

Most shocking of all was his unswerving devotion to civil service reform. He continued an investigation into a government postal scandal, even though everyone assumed he’d drop it. He voiced his continuing support for reform efforts. In 1883, Arthur signed the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act. As written, the act required only 10% of federal jobs to be assigned based on merit, and even that required the president to take action to enforce it. People assumed that Arthur would sit back and do nothing, so the spoils system would remain in place. Yet Arthur immediately formed a commission to enact the reform, even appointing some of his old enemies. The man who’d benefited most from the spoils system became the one to finally destroy it.

How do we explain such a complete and sudden change? Part of it’s a matter of personality. If I can indulge in a bit of meta, Chester Arthur seems to be a textbook example of the sanguine-phlegmatic temperament—someone who wants to fit in with the crowd, to go with the flow. As a political lackey, this made him self-serving and amoral, but as president, the crowd he had to impress was the American people. After months of getting crucified in the press, with tons of articles saying what they didn’t want him to be, he’d have plenty of motivation to become what they did want him to be.

A more important motivation, though, was death. His wife’s death was likely the first shock that would make him step back and take stock of his political career. Garfield’s death had an even more profound influence on him. The spoils system had led a madman to murder a president in Arthur’s name; if anything could motivate a man to change the system, that would be it. Even more profound than that was his own death. Not long after entering the White House, Arthur was diagnosed with a fatal kidney disease. He hid the diagnosis during his term, but his actions in office were the actions of a man doomed to die, with a mind toward the legacy he’d leave behind.

Yet there’s another stranger, more mysterious influence that I’ve left to last because of how cool the story is. The day before his death, Chester Arthur—who’d become ashamed of his old life—asked a friend to burn the vast majority of his papers. Years later, among the papers that had been spared, his grandson uncovered a packet of twenty-three letters from a 31-year-old invalid named Julia Sand. Julia came from a family very interested in politics, and her illness meant that she spent a lot of time reading the newspapers, so she was familiar with Chester Arthur’s political career. In August of 1881, she sent Chester Arthur a letter that began, “The hours of Garfield's life are numbered—before this meets your eye, you may be President. The people are bowed in grief; but—do you realize it?--not so much because he is dying, as because you are his successor.” Over seven pages, Julia scolded Arthur for his corrupt ways, but assured him of her faith in his better nature, and urged him to reform. She sent letters over the next two years, full of encouragement and scolding and political advice. She called herself his “little dwarf”, because her lack of ties to him meant she could be completely honest with him.

There’s no evidence he ever answered her. But she did offer some rather specific political advice that he seems to have followed. And he did visit her once. In 1882, he stopped by her house in the presidential carriage, surprising her and her family (who had no idea she’d been writing to the president) with an hour-long visit. She seemed to grow more frustrated with his lack of answers after that, and no letter exists after 1883.

There’s no way to say what kind of effect the letters had on him. But amid all the turmoil after the assassination, it must have meant something to have one voice saying she believed in him. She was a voice from outside the Washington political machine, who could serve as a sort of conscience. The fact that those letters survived when so much else burned suggests he considered them worth saving.

No matter the reason, the truth remains that Arthur entered the presidency as an example of all that was dirty and loathsome in the political system, and he left it as a respectable man. In giving up his old ways, he sacrificed connections he’d spent years building. His old friends never forgave him, and his old opponents never quite trusted his reform, yet he did what he thought was right even if it meant he stood alone. In summing up his presidency, I don’t think I can do better than contemporary journalist Alexander McClure: “No man ever entered the Presidency so profoundly and widely distrusted as Chester Alan Arthur, and no one ever retired... more generally respected, alike by political friend and foe.” I think that deserves to be remembered.

#history is awesome #presidential talk #i apologize but i really can't see any way to cut this down #i like the detour into garfield's nomination #i can't cut conkling out any more than i have #i can't leave out his wife #i didn't even mention that he was washington's most eligible bachelor during his term but he remained faithful to her memory #or that his sister served as hostess at the white house and helped raise his daughter (who he protected from the press as best he could)#or that he did make a half-hearted attempt to seek re-election so people wouldn't think he was slinking off in disgrace #and there was some support for him #but he didn't mind at all when someone else was nominated because he was dealing with his kidney disease #and he died in 1886 #which means he had the shortest post-presidency life of anyone except james k. polk who died three months after leaving office #i did not come into last week thinking that by the end of it i'd have developed a minor specialization #in the presidency of a guy i knew only for his facial hair and his half-verse in the animaniacs song #i didn't even mention the facial hair!#go to wikipedia and see his glorious muttonchops!#say what you will about the victorians but they had wild facial hair game #but anyway here is the life story of my impeccably dressed trash panda son #who is put together on the outside and a mess on the inside #and still manages to maintain a certain dignity despite how pathetic he is #he's a mess of a human being but i love him your honor

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