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jeanandthedreamofhorses · 3 years

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Life without the Will to Life: Zeke’s Epiphany

Restless struggling and suffering for the sake of an impossible goal: in a sentence, that is how the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer saw life. Despite the inevitability of death, we are enslaved by an instinctual compulsion to preserve ourselves.

This compulsion, the Will to Life, is the characteristic that defines life itself.

The Will to Life manifests in many forms, not only in struggling to survive. Any attempt to improve the comfort of our existence is a manifestation of the Will to Life. That is to say, all human striving is a naïve denial of the reality of death.

And when the fundamental drive of our existence is that irrational, we cannot be free to make rational choices regarding how we live our lives in spite of death. Instead, the Will to Life forces us to live like tortured prisoners, suffering pain and inflicting pain on others all for the sake of fulfilling that Will which can never truly be satisfied.

We are like addicts putting ourselves and our loved ones in danger for the sake of our next fix - and it will never be our last one. So long as we satisfy the urge, the addiction will never go away.

Evidently, Zeke is in agreement.

About a year ago now I wrote a two-part series on Schopenhauen themes in SNK. Back then I wasn’t sure how much of the correlation was a co-incidence, but Zeke’s philosophising this chapter has convinced me of Isayama’s familiarity with Schopenhauen thought.

Multiplying is the means by which life survives, and therefore a function of its Will to Life. With that in mind, if you replace ‘in order to multiply’ with ‘in order to fulfil its Will to Life’, Zeke expounds Schopenhauer’s philosophy almost word-for-word: the Will to Life is the fundamental aspect of existence, it is pointless in the long run, and it condemns people to unnecessary suffering.

The intricate sandcastle Zeke builds while describing the Will to Life illustrates the concept further. No matter how much effort is put into building a sandcastle, the nature of the material it is built with means it will inevitably crumble away. Likewise, no matter how life struggles to survive - whether that be an individual, a nation, or a species - it cannot overcome its fundamentally finite nature.

The only lifeform that has managed that impossible feat is Ymir Fritz: the tantalising goal of the Will to Life, which is always forever beyond reach, was reached by Ymir through a miracle.

The power of the Nine Titans made it possible. Now living in a world where death does not exist, she should no longer be enslaved by the compulsion to live. She should be the only human who is able to find true peace and happiness within life rather than outside it.

But instead, she continued to involve herself in the affairs of the mortal world, taking orders from the royal bloodline and, eventually, turning on them to help Eren destroy the world. Zeke is immensely confused by this.

Where Ymir could find peace and tranquillity, instead she continues to struggle, strive, and suffer. She continues to subject herself to the Will to Life because, although she cannot die, she remains deeply involved with a world of people who will inevitably die. The goals that Ymir helps them with are ultimately pointless, destined to fade away to dust - and Ymir knows that. So Zeke is confused as to why she did not simply reach out and take the freedom from it all in front of her.

This is why Zeke chose not to help stop the Rumbling. Engaging with the mortal realm at all would be to continue to enslave himself to his arch-enemy, the Will to Life, just like Ymir did. Now he is in this deathless realm, he demands that he at last has the satisfaction of being free of that Will, and so chooses to do nothing.

The situation Zeke found himself in would be Schopenhauer’s ideal: life without the Will to Life. Only, Zeke is hardly blissful in this state. Despite his determination not to be like Ymir, he too is still enslaved to the Will to Life. Rather than rejoicing at his freedom from it, his thoughts are grounded in the mortal realm, lamenting its enslavement by the Will to Life. He remains attached like Ymir is.

It would seem that humans are just too used to living with the Will to Life to be free of it, even when deathless; perhaps this is why, despite vocally rejecting the Will to Life, in practice Zeke preserves his life by staying in the Path Dimension. Even Ymir’s miracle is not enough to liberate humanity of the Will to Life.

So what is there left to do? Die, or never be born in the first place.

Zeke’s plan for euthanasia was the inevitable end-point of Schopenhauen philosophy.

As part of his crusade against the Will to Life, Zeke believes it would be kinder to remain in the Path Dimension and allow humanity to be wiped out. It is the only means of freeing them from the tyranny of the Will.

With this logic, one wonders why Zeke and Schopenhauer did not simply kill themselves. Why live when living can only mean suffering?

Schopenhauer’s justification for life was that there are small avenues within it through which one can escape the Will to Life - where one, for the briefest of precious moments, could appreciate existence without restlessly striving after something. Tranquillity, presence in the moment, peace of mind - for Schopenhauer, these are the things which redeem existence.

And this is exactly Armin’s counter-argument to Zeke. He argues that these things are beautiful precisely because they have nothing to do with the urge to multiply - that is, they are free from the Will to Life.

Those moments are freedom for Armin and Zeke - being able to appreciate the moment without finding fault or desiring anything beyond it. Zeke is able to appreciate the fact of his birth purely because of those moments playing catch with Mr Xaver, where he was free from the compulsion to restlessly strive.

Zeke sees the pinnacle of his life not in the enactment of his euthanasia plan, but in playing catch.

This is because the euthanasia plan, though intending to liberate Eldians from the Will to Life, was itself a form of restless striving and so an expression of that very same Will. Likewise, his depression in the Path Dimension was because his mind was still fixated on the tragedy of the Will to Life. The only way to be free of the Will to Life is not to understand its true nature, but to forget about it entirely.

Zeke has had to restlessly strive ever since he was a child, with the enormous expectations placed upon him by his parents; so those moments of playing catch and not having to think about anything else were beautiful to Zeke. That’s why he took the time to play catch with Colt, just like Xaver did for him.

Zeke comes to the conclusion that those simple moments of satisfaction were brilliant enough to justify all the suffering of striving that exists elsewhere in life. Something finally justifies his birth, and so he thanks his father for the gift he once hated him for.

It is telling, though, that Zeke does not renounce the worth of his euthanasia plan. This is because Armin argues with Zeke within the frame of his Schopenhauen ideology. He does not try to convince Zeke that the Will to Life is desirable after all; he appeals to Zeke to value life precisely because it provides moments where one can reject the Will to Life. Thus Zeke can appreciate his own existence while still believing that there is nothing heinous in preventing further manifestations of the Will to Life: in both situations, the Will to Life is opposed.

So Zeke dies in truer accordance with the same ideology he has always lived by. In all his restless striving to end the need for restless striving, Zeke never took a moment to appreciate the beauty that exists in those small moments free of that urge. Like his brother, he had been so focused on destroying his enemy that he was unable to appreciate what he was trying to protect.

And so, in a final rejection of the Will to Life, he leaves behind immortality, the ultimate longing of that Will, to embrace death within the realm of the mortal. He calls over the person he knows wants to kill him more than any other.

Zeke’s yell of “Can’t say I wanted to do the same!!” reveals that he does not want to die. The Will to Life is still strong in him, but Zeke overcomes it and allows Levi to kill him in the hope that countless lives will be saved - lives that, for the sake of those brief windows free from the Will to Life, are now worth something to him. So where once he claimed he was saving his victims from the Will to Life, he finally regrets "all the killing” he has done.

By Schopenhauer’s definition, Zeke finally found his freedom. Ironically, he could only face his death when he had once again found meaning in life.

#shingeki no kyojin #snk meta #snk 137 #zeke jaeger #armin arlert #arthur schopenhauer #difficult concept but i hope i've been able to communicate it

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ssa-sapphic-inactive · 3 years

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-ˋˏ Slow Dancing ˎˊ-

pairing: Emily Prentiss/Fem!Reader

summary: (Based on the song “Slow Dancing in the Dark” by Joji) Emily and Y/N have been dating for almost a year now, and yet, Emily still doesn’t want to go public with their relationship. She says she just wants to be friends with benefits, but Y/N knows there’s more to it, and she’s tired of trying to fight for a relationship that only seems one-sided.

warnings: f-word x1, sexual implications

type: slight angst with happy ending?

“I don’t want a friend

I want my life in two”

That’s what you always told yourself. It was no secret that you were getting older, as was everyone else on the team, so for the past couple of years you’ve definitely been trying to find the right person to settle down with. Not someone who would just hit it and quit it, or date you for awhile but never fully committ. No, you wanted someone who was going to be invested in the relationship just as much as you were. Someone who you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with and who would double as your lover and best friend. That one person who you could share your life with, causing it to become two.

“Waiting to get there

Waiting for you

(I’m done fighting all night)”

When you first joined the team and met Emily, you knew that she was the one for you. You felt it. Every time she was near you, the beating of your heart would increase and the butterflies in your stomach would soar in delight. She made you feel things no one else ever could, and it wasn’t just sexually. She was there for you as a support mentally, whenever your depression or anxiety would get the better of you. She was there to comfort you emotionally when the turmoil after a hard case was too much to bear. She was there for you physically, when you just wanted someone to hold you in their arms or when you were feeling lonely. And you did all of those things for her too. You and Emily were each other’s person, and there was absolutely no denying it.

However, the problem was that Emily never wanted to take that next step into your relationship. You would go on several dates, and get to know each other better, before you made it to the intimacy step. There, you shared your first kiss together which led to hundreds of others over the past few months as well as other forms of close intimacy. But no matter how close you two got, Emily just didn’t want to become official and go public, and you had no idea why.

“The team doesn’t know I’m a lesbian.” She’d say.

Or, “I’m just not ready yet.” Was the go-to excuse.

Of course you didn’t want to rush her, so you had agreed to take it slow in the beginning, for the sake of making Emily feel comfortable in knowing that her thoughts and feelings were valid. No matter what, you loved her, and so you didn’t mind waiting for her to get to the point where she would be ready to come out. But it seemed like she had forgotten that you were a profiler as well, because you knew her all too well to tell when she was lying and you were always a silent observer. However, you decided not to push her until she was ready. For what, you honestly didn’t know anymore.

But what really hurt you was when she suggested that you both should just remain “friends with benefits” instead of girlfriends. Needless to say, that statement definitely led to a much heated fight, where you both had the opportunity to get everything off of your chests. You were at your breaking point. You were tired of her not being honest and keeping things from you.

At the end of the night, it was certainly clear to you that it wasn’t exactly a “fear of coming out” that made Emily so hesitant to start a relationship. But what was it then? You didn’t know. Why wouldn’t she just tell you? It was eating you up inside. Did she not care about you like you did her? Was she into somebody else?

“When I’m around slow dancing in the dark

Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms

You done made up your mind.

I don’t need no more signs.”

After your big fight, you both decided to take a break from whatever it was that you two were, since according to Emily, you apparently weren’t in a relationship. So, you played nice in front of the team, which wasn’t super hard because you and Em were friends before lovers. But there were days that left you so confused as to what exactly her feelings were for you now.

You had all these signs that told you she wanted nothing more than to remain friends, but meanwhile, an hour never went by without you catching her staring at you! Plus, the jealousy was always there when Derek or an unsub would flirt with you. The raven-haired beauty would constantly boil in hidden rage, causing her milky skin to burn as red as the famous tank top that clinged so well to her curves. There would even be certain days where the team would get back to the hotel, and Emily would always ensure that the both of you were roommates every single time. She wanted nothing more than to prove that you were hers and only hers.

But you weren’t hers....right? Isn’t that what she implied with the whole “friends with benefits” thing?

So, with that thought in mind, you’d never allow her the opportunity to “claim” you. After all, you weren’t necessarily hers. Besides, you weren’t totally keen on the idea of giving her the privilege to be intimate with you, when you wanted more than just sex. But the thing was, you knew you were weak and that you couldn’t resist her. So you begged her not to “follow you into the dark” or flirt with you, because you knew that you’d take her back in your arms in an instant or vice versa, and that’s NOT what you wanted. She made up her mind in not wanting to have a relationship, and you had enough of the signs proving it. If she wasn’t able to commit, or invest more in the “relationship”, then you were going to sever all intimacy completely. You wanted all of her or nothing and you didn’t want to be toyed with.

But the last straw was when you overheard Emily telling JJ about someone she was “seeing” and asking the blonde for advice. It definitely made your heart sink, and you were quick to assume that she was interested in someone else. I mean, it would explain a lot. But why would she continue to pull you along when she was already becoming tied to someone new...?

“Give me reasons we should be complete

You should be with him, I can’t compete

You looked at me like I was someone else, oh well”

Because of the fact that Emily had shown no signs of wanting to take it farther with you, you had every right to assume she was interested in someone else. Especially when lately, she’d been avoiding you during the day, and instead, spending more time with Hotch in his office during breaks. She could barely even look at you anymore and it made you slowly fall apart at the seams. There was no more reason for you two to be together at this point. I mean, how could you compete with him? The boss man? Yeah, right. Maybe she should be with him.

“Can’t you see?

I don’t wanna slow dance

In the dark”

You had finally made up your mind, if Emily wasn’t interested in something more, than it wasn’t even worth the fight. And just like you made sure her feelings were valid, she needed to realize that yours were too! So, one day when the office work was slow, you walked over to her desk that afternoon and asked to speak with her privately. No, you practically demanded it. Enough was enough! She nodded and gave you a smile, which threw you off guard, but you led her to a private office anyways, where the door shut behind you.

“Em, I’m sorry to be blunt, but I can’t do this anymore.” You cut right to the chase, leaving her a bit confused.

“Do what exactly?” She asked you, trying to come closer.

“This!” You gestured between the two of you. “I can’t keep pinning after you when you clearly don’t feel as serious about me, as I do you. I don’t want to be sprung along or be your hidden secret anymore!”

“Y/N, I told you I wasn’t out to the team yet—“

“I know that, Emily! That’s been your excuse for months now, and I believed it! Seriously, you had me fooled for awhile. But why was Penlelope trying to set you up with the new female intern yesterday, if she didn’t know you were gay? Huh? And how comes every time we get a case involving victims of the lgbt+ community, everyone always immediately looks at you and I like it only hits close to home with us? Which it actually does...but that’s not the point! I’m tired of your lies, I’m tired of your secrets, and I—”

Emily quickly cut you off from ranting further as she smashed her soft lips against yours, igniting a small flame in both of your stomachs. It’s was so endearing, that you had to grab onto her hips in order to remain steady. After a few seconds, she slowly pulled away from you, causing a small whimper to escape your lips at the loss of contact.

“Baby,” She cooed, smiling down at you as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You didn’t let me finish.” You looked at her with confusion written all over your face, and she just smiled wider before pecking your forehead. “I know, that I told you I wasn’t out, but that was a lie.” She admitted, remorsefully. “I’m sorry for telling you that in the first place. I guess I was just...scared?”

“Scared of what?” You asked concerningly, completely disregarding the fact that she lied. “Commitment? Me?”

“Of the world.” She clarified, with an exasperated sigh. “I know what it can do to girls who only see the beauty in it, and the evilness that we see each day scares me because I don’t want to lose you Y/N! I can’t. I-...I love you too much.”

At those three words, you swore your heart stopped. You met her bright doe eyes, and noticed the tears that were starting to form in them. She was scared now, and you could feel it. She shook in your hold, so you took her in your arms and squeezed her tightly, silently telling her that you weren’t going anywhere and everything was going to be alright.

“I love you too, Em.” You finally whispered into the darkness of the empty office. “I never was one to believe in fate and soulmates, but I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you my first day working here.” You admitted, chuckling slightly at yourself. “You mean everything to me, and I’m so fucking in love with you that it hurt to think you didn’t feel the same.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of what could happen. I don’t like dating, because once you get too close to someone, anything can happen to them. Especially, when your job consists of catching bad guys who could use angels like you as leverage. That’s why I’ve been talking to Hotch and JJ. They know what it’s like to be in a relationship that could also be in harms way any minute, so I just really needed advice.”

“I get it, Em. I do. But you have to remember, I’m a profiler too.” You replied, wiping her tears eyes and placing a kiss on her lips. “I see the same things you do on a daily basis and of course I don’t want to lose you either. It would kill me. Which is why I want to make the most of the time we have now. We can’t live in fear of tomorrow, we just have to live for today. I know that sounds corny as hell but it’s true, baby. And I want to live with you for the rest of my life, no matter how long it is.”

You two certainly had a lot more to talk about, however, at that specific moment in time, you just wanted to be in each other’s embrace as the darkness of the office enveloped you both. The only visible light seeping through the closed blinds, depicting the irony in the situation of what it really meant to be slow dancing in the dark...

A/N: Definitely don’t know how I feel about this one, but oh well. I’ve been wanting to start writing more so I hope you liked it anyway!

#emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss #criminal minds lgbt #joji #slow dancing in the dark

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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Let’s talk: Grievances and Cuteness - BTS on You Quiz on the Block

by Admin 1

Today BTS were guests on You Quiz on the Block, a very popular Korean variety show on tvN, and it was a wonderful mix of fun and hilarious, but also serious, vulnerable and honest. Seeing as we don’t have subtitles yet, merely the things our marvelous translator ARMYs managed to translate for us—the episode was 100 minutes long so there was a lot going on and being said—I don’t want to get into detail in this post and instead will wait with that until we have subs and I’ll be able to sit down and watch it properly again, focus on things that stick out to me and I would want to talk about. So that I can do their words justice.

Instead I want to use this post to air some of my grievances, directed at fellow ARMY, “ARMY” and shippers, as well as just gush a little about a few cute moments. The more serious things will be in a different post sometime soon. I hope that’s okay.

Grievances

What is the point of Bangtan going on a show like this, especially one that is broadcast on national TV and very popular with the general public? It’s to share not only their funny side but also their honest and genuine one, share stories that, though some we’ve heard before as ARMY, they’re things the general public doesn’t necessarily know. The point of them sharing vulnerable moments and memories with us is to simply be honest and transparent, something they’ve always highlighted as important to them.

What is the part we play in this, what is it that we should do? We are simply supposed to listen, understand the things they are telling us, put things into perspective so we know what they felt in certain moments and periods of their lives, understand that they’re human too with struggles, fears and sadness, and we should cherish the fact that they tell us any of it at all. They could just as well only show up whenever there’s a new album and comeback and then disappear again, share nothing personal at all and put on entirely fake personas. But they don’t. And we should be grateful for that and happy because of it.

Now, the reason why I even wanted to write this in the first place is this:

Many, and I mean many have decided that instead of doing what I’ve highlighted a moment ago, a far better course of action would be to twist their words, manipulate them, use them to victimize the members (and especially Seokjin), and try to overanalyze them in favor of their desired narratives and especially their ships, even if whatever was being said had absolutely nothing to do with any ship at all.

Before the episode even finished airing, solos/mantis were already up in arms “crying” about mistreatment and victimizing Seokjin because *insert demands they have no right to make at all* and when Seokjin, bless him, was on weverse, he actually replied to a post where he basically said that parts of what he said were too sad/depressing, so he simply asked the You Quiz staff to cut them out, which would explain why he seemed to have “less to say” during his interview section with Yoongi. Did that help? Of course not. Even though it showed not only that he did say more, that he likely said more vulnerable things, but also that he made the decision for himself that he did not want to share that yet, because he’s not ready for it or because he came to the conclusion that he simply doesn’t want to period, and that his wish for them to cut it out was met. Even though it wasn’t BH controlled content, but You Quiz.

More below the cut:

What does this tell us? The members have control over what is aired and what is not. If they feel something is too personal or would come across wrong, they can voice objection and chances are their words will be met and followed. They aren’t victims in need of saving, aren’t helpless boys with no idea what they’re doing. They are serious musicians, respected and treated well. This is a good thing and I’m glad he told us that, even if many don’t want to hear it and immediately claimed that “oh yeah BH told him to shut us up”. The mental gymnastics some are willing to do to make things fit their agenda truly baffles me sometimes.

On the other hand, I’ve seen shippers try to twist words or put others into the members mouths to push their agenda, and we’ve even had one or two asks being sent to us basically sadly wondering if maybe Tae isn’t who we thought he is for Jimin, and neither is Hobi, because of something Jimin said. Even though the thing Jimin said had quite literally nothing to do with either Tae or Hobi. In a way, I get where such vminnies are coming from, as vminnies we would love to just hear vmin talk about each other all day because it’s cute and we love their bond and stories, but it’s not like we didn’t get that. Because we did. Unprompted. Jimin mentioned Tae during their trio interview and told a story, even if we’ve heard it before to a certain degree. And yet it still wasn’t enough? Like come on, please don’t do this. Don’t reduce everything the members do and say to just ship related and non-ship related (thus uninteresting) statements and actions, as though the latter is worth less.

Here is the moment in question:

The way I see it, the only thing we should take away from this is that despite these very human fears and struggles, wonderings if people only care about Jimin because he is BTS Jimin and not Park Jimin, he still had and has good people in his life that’ll remind him that he is appreciated and loved for who he is, and not just for his celebrity status. Friends even outside of Bangtan. Why do we have to take something so incredibly personal, this moment of vulnerability from Jimin, and try to overanalyze it? To twist it to fit a ship? Regardless which one. Or to twist it to fit some kind of narrative, whatever one it may be? Please don’t do that.

Sure, Admin 2 noticed his use of ‘chingu’ when talking about this friend that told him that, and sure it reminded me of what Jimin said to Tae in the FESTA 2020 Rolling Paper, but neither Admin 2 nor I will go and claim that oh he must’ve been talking about Tae but didn’t want to use his name to avoid XYZ because we are not in his head and, at the end of the day, it’s irrelevant who exactly said that to him. That wasn’t the point of that story. Like at all. So why are some people disregarding the point in favor of speculations? Why are some completely ignoring his words, downplaying them as just potential ship material instead of appreciating the fact that he told us that at all?

It’s unfair toward Jimin, and the other members as well when they tell similar stories. Their lives aren’t fictional stories that revolve around romance. They are real people with real lives and more friends than just their fellow members and that’s a good thing since it surely gives them the opportunity to feel less isolated, cut off from the world by nature of their occupation and status. Besides, in the past Tae said something similar as well, how he used to be a social butterfly and make friends easily wherever they went but eventually he understood that people didn’t really care about Kim Taehyung and instead just wanted to know BTS V and be able to use that to brag, so he stopped being so outgoing. And we’ve also seen Jimin talk about cutting out friends in the past if they said something negative about Bangtan, then, a few years later, saying that he’s grown more as a person and learned to not allow these things to affect him as much, to surround himself with genuine people.

So, in light of what he said in that segment, we should be happy for him. And that’s it.

We also saw people use what Tae said about his dad to push the he must be 100% heterosexual because he said he wants to be a dad narrative which, where do I even start. Perhaps with the fact that this statement relies on a mistranslation? Because he didn’t say he wants to be a dad but that he wants to be a person like his dad, that’s his dream. Perhaps with the blatant homophobia this statement is laced in? The disregard for how queer people can also want to have kids, be parents, just like anyone else? Perhaps with how these things oddly seem to just be done to Tae and Namjoon, and especially Tae to use it for ship purposes?

Instead of jumping to conclusions, overanalyzing stories we are not supposed to analyze but instead to simply appreciate, please wait until we’ll have the full episode with subtitles (even though from the past we know that some of it may be simplified so reading what our translators wrote is also a good thing to get the whole picture) and even then, just enjoy their silliness and listen to their words of honesty. Listen to the fact that their fame was and continues to be a heavy weight on their shoulders, how instead of becoming cocky assholes they remained humble and genuine because that’s the kind of people they are and want to be, listen to what they want you to hear and now what you want to hear.

Also, to shippers—this isn’t the place to look for ship content of any kind, for some romantic confessions or whatever, because this was about Bangtan as seven members and their stories of the last ten and a half years since Namjoon joined BH and the idea for BTS was started.

Cute and silly things

Now that that's done, let’s talk about some fun and cute things to lighten the mood, shall we?

One of my favorite moments was when the MIC DROP ARMY came in as a surprise for the members, her confidence was off the charts and the guys looked so genuinely happy. After all it’s been so many months since they’ve last seen ARMY! And I’m so glad she was such a wonderful representative for us all, how she didn’t react with fear or shyness, didn’t scream or cry, but instead did her thing like a Queen. And the way the members reacted when she sent them a finger heart during one of the dances? Absolutely adorable!

Also, she truly must’ve saved some kind of nation, or maybe two, in her past life since she also was gifted a chicken leg pillow by Tae. He’s just so kind and lovely.

Then we had the members play a game of trying to guess a song merely by the first second (I think) and then having to sing it, though who sang which part didn’t follow the actual order in the song but was chosen by someone off screen which meant that, for example, Tae was doing one of the rap line verses as well as singing Jimin’s part in another, Hobi showed off his vocal skills, and of course, the highlight, Namjoon singing a part from Spring Day. Even though we know Namjoon’s skills when it comes to singing are not the greatest, which I mean in a very loving way, no tea no shade, and yet he still went for it. It was hilarious and cute and showed that he is willing to be silly even if others might laugh at his expense.

Sometime after the episode aired Namjoon actually came onto Weverse to talk about the episode and, among other things, apologized for not singing Seokjin’s guide all that well. One thing I’d like to point out is how, originally, he wrote Jinhyung but then changed it to Seokjinie hyung, which is just a small and precious little detail:

Another cute moment was during ‘dance mafia’ when Tae turned to Jimin to ask him if they did well and Jimin replied that yes, he did well (both using this adorably soft tone with each other), they also hugged for a moment while smiling brightly. See, I said not to look for ship moments, but this is just cute regardless if you ship vmin or not. Admin 2 though would like to comment on how they could’ve given us that hug from a camera that’s a little further away so we could have a more proper look, or a longer shot of it, please?

Honestly that game was hilarious and the members who were mafia did a wonderful job tricking the others, particularly JK was fantastic at it since the second time around no one suspected him at all. Also, the fluffy ear muffs with cat (?) ears on them were adorable. At the end of the segment they were all supposed to strike a pose but Tae didn’t manage to put his ear muffs back on, so they fell to the ground and so Jimin lightly hit/caressed his chest and turned toward the MCs to ask if they could try again so that Tae could look good in it as well.

Actually, speaking of adorable in regard to Jimin, when they were introduced at the beginning of the show as RM-jagi-nim, jagi-nim being the name used for all the guests on the show and also the name on the necklace (given to guests who are fans of the show by the producers) Jimin showed off on weverse in his selcas, Jimin corrected the MC that it’s not Jimin-jagi-nim but Mini-jagi-nim which just…my heart. Too cute.

Lastly, I want to mention how all of them were asked what the first sentence would be if their lives were a book and their answers were just so very…them.

Namjoon: Predictions in life often turn out to be wrong

Tae: I’m a chameleon

Hobi: Dear, people who’ve helped to lead me here

Yoongi: You lived life to the fullest/hard/well

Seokjin: Dope, worldwide class!

Jimin: What kind of life do you want to live?

Jungkook: Hello?

Overall it was an amazing episode that was so fun to watch even without really being able to understand any of what was being said. Still the members genuine personalities shone through brightly and I’m glad they had fun and felt comfortable, especially since it’s been a while since they were last on Korean variety shows and some of their past experiences were…not great. I can’t wait to watch it again once we have subs and to write a more proper post about it then. I hope you didn’t mind this more…serious and “angry” post and understand where I’m coming from with my complaints, but also that you enjoyed the cute moments I highlighted.

#BTS #BTS You quiz on the block #Namjoon #Seokjin #Yoongi #Hoseok #Jimin #Taehyung #Jungkook #vmin

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gravityunforgiven · 3 years

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Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)

Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade, Dan Kato x Tsunade

Synopsis:

She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?

...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?

Chapter Two

In the next few years, Akira proved herself to be a little firecracker. She had captured the hearts of those who surrounded her almost immediately. Tsunade’s days became a little brighter due to the presence of her little one, she became her world. But still, Dan’s death loomed over her like a shadow. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he was supposed to be here, how they should be raising their child together instead of on her own. She could see him in their child every single day especially in her eyes, the eyes that Dan gave her. It was so much like his that she could almost imagine Dan staring right back at her.

And even in her disposition she could see bits of Dan mixed with her own. Akira’s character was what a person could call a perfect combination of her parents. She was normally a calm and laidback personality and even as a child she was selfless and kind to others but she could also be impatient at times and prone to rule-breaking a little more than Tsunade wanted to admit.

Everyday Akira radiated happiness to the people around her. Tsunade had hoped that her daughter would remain a civillian. That she would have a normal life inside the walls of the village, never having to know the cruelness of the shinobi world. She wanted her daughter to be protected more than anything in the world. Even Jiraiya who remained put for the first year of Akira’s life, shared Tsunade’s wishes but their hopes were all too soon shattered.

Even at only a few months old, Akira’s abilities were already starting to show itself. At first, both Tsunade and Jiraiya were in denial. It was unheard to have a child of such age show that much capabilities. They shoved it at the back of their minds for the time being but when Akira’s first birthday neared, refusing the truth was no longer an option. When Tsunade entered Akira’s room full of daisies, the truth dawned on them like a bucket full of ice cold water.

She had inherited her great-grandfather’s kekkei genkai.

The Wood Release.

She was the first since the Shodai Hokage’s time to have this nature transformation and to think that when everyone finally came into terms that this Release was extinct, Akira came along, having acquired it naturally, after it skipped two full generations of her family and more than seventy years since her great-grandfather was born.

This brought fear in Tsunade’s mind. The safety of her daughter could be at risk after this discovery. It was not a secret that the Wood Release was one, if not the most, sought after kekkei genkai in the world. Not just because of its rarity but also the power and versatility it gives its wielder.

And the destruction it may cause once fallen in the wrong hands.

If that wasn’t already bad enough as it is, a shocking discovery from the Third Hokage’s wife became the final nail in the box that sealed Akira’s fate as a protector of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

“ What is that?” Biwako asked looking at Akira’s right feet as Jiraiya lulled her for afternoon nap. The child was just about to turn one and after Tsunade’s distressed conversations with Hiruzen about the safety of her child, the Hokage together with his wife, decided to pay the child a visit.

“ It showed up a few days after she was born.” Tsunade answered. She caught the startled look that passed Biwako’s face from across the chubadai as the older woman looked at her husband.

“What?” Tsunade asked, looking at the two. She knew immediately that something was going on and if it had anything to do with her daughter then needed to know. She had to.

“ Could it be possible?” Biwako’s eyes remained fixated on the Hokage.

“It makes a lot of sense.” Hiruzen recalled how Tsunade came into his office a few months after Akira’s birth. He had never seen him so frantic as she told him ever growing abilities of Akira. She said it was just a couple of flowers in the beginning and how she thought they were just reacting to her chakra but then the incident with the daisies happened and she was so sure that there was something wrong with her. Most children do not show their affiliated chakra natures until well into their childhoods when they’ve mastered their chakra control. He did his best to calm the new mother that day and assured her that it was probably because of Akira’s genetics and heritage but it never truly left his mind. Yes, it was possible that it was because she was the great-grand daughter of the First Hokage and the daughter of the two of the most skilled shinobis that the Leaf Village had come across but he always suspected that there was more behind what was seen. Biwako’s suspicions was entirely plausible given the facts.

“Shut the doors.” He instructed in a manner he was the only one who was allowed to do so.

“Have you ever heard of The Okami?” Biwako asked as soon as the doors were closed shut and they were completely alone.

“The Wolf Spirit? Yeah, from the folktales and myths.” Jiraiya’s voice had a hint of apprehensiveness, he had a feeling that he won’t like what they were about to imply. He looked at the innocent child in his arms. It’s impossible.

“Not exactly.” And so, Biwako told the tale of the Okami to the two Sannin. She told how the wolf, believed to be once a human, protected the people in the shadows. It was known for its benevolence and truthfulness and was well-respected and honored during it’s time. And when it’s time came, the Okami vowed to its descendants that when the humankind is in dire need of protection, it will once again return to the world. Up until now, it is believed that the descendants of the Okami still remains in the heart of the Kiyoiyuki Mountains.

Biwako told them that there only has been two other people recorded in recent history to be believed as the reincarnation of the wolf. The latest was during the beginning of the Warring States Period nearly two centuries ago. They all had the same mark Akira now possessed.

“You’re saying she’s a reincarnation of this wolf-spirit that hasn’t been seen in decades?”

It was the Lord Third who answered the clearly terrified mother. “We can’t be sure for now, Tsuna. We’ll have to wait until she’s older but it would explain why she developed such abilities this early. She isn’t like the other children.”

Tsunade felt like she was going to puke. Not only were her dreams of Akira living as a simple civillian were shattered but her fate to die for the village seemed inevitable.

“So she’s like a jinchūriki?” Jiraiya’s question sounded more like a statement.

“Similar, but no. Jinchūrikis have a spirit of a tailed beast living inside of them, like a seperate being. She doesn’t have that because she the Okami is inside her very core. They are one.” Biwako explained.

In the end, the four of them decided that Akira’s true nature would remain as a secret. There will be no papers linking to her true nature, only that she is a prodigy if her own right which can be easily explained by her origins. This was necessary to ensure that she would remain safe until she was ready to defend herself from those who would want to use her for their own gain.

In the following years, she would be trained rigorously to prepare her for her role as a protector of Konohagakure. A number of both current and non-Jonin-senseis were handpicked by the Hokage together with her mother and godfather were chosen to be her teachers and senseis in the upcoming years.

Tsunade was against the idea at first. She wanted to give her daughter a normal childhood like everyone else but knowing that training her is the only way to protect her, she agreed to the plan with a heavy heart.

It wasn’t easy to raise Akira on her own especially with her still not being able to really move on with Dan’s death knowing that they should be raising Akira together and her depression that was constantly making her day even harder but she did her best, the best she could manage. She thought her medical ninjutsu for the next nine years and just as she expected, she was a natural at it. That made Tsunade smile.

Much to their relief, Akira had a somewhat normal childhood, at least for the first nine years. She trained with her sensei’s on the weekends, attended the academy (sometimes) on weekdays and played with the other kids during the afternoon. Her skills were already advanced for her rank as an academy student when she was five. It was already comparable with a newly promoted chūnin and sometimes she would even spar with kids in the higher ranks.

She wasn’t always compliant though. She would skip sessions with her senseis from time to time and would play with the other kid instead, her taijutsu needed some work and her kenjutsu could still be improved. The adults took that as a good sign. They didn’t want to take her personality away and turn her into some sort of killing machine just because her destiny demanded her to.

It was during her training with Inoichi Yamanaka, a former student of her father, Dan Katō, when her nature as the reincarnation of The Okami was once and for all, confirmed. Her eyes had turned a into a bright shade of yellow, her pupils constricted to a tiny speck in the sea of yellow and her chakra that was usually associated with the color blue, became white as a snow. It was neutral. And deadly. Akira fainted after the incident and Inoichi decided to volunteer as her future master.

She was nine when her mother left. Tsunade had taught her everything she could in terms of medical ninjutsu. The top medical-nins will supervise Akira’s training from then on.

It was just supposed to be a few months of sabbatical. She just wanted some time alone to deal with her grief and depression. She wanted to be better mother for her daughter. Tsunade even asked Akira if she wanted to come travel with her and she actually hope that she would agree. She hoped that she could just whisk Akira away from her responsibilities from this damned shinobi world, she would have done so of she said yes. But like any other nine year old kid, she didn’t want to leave the place she had called home or fall behind her friends. Akira refused and instead asked her mother to bring her a gift from every town she would come and visit until her return.

And Akira didn’t realize her childhood would soon come to an end soon after her mother crossed the front gates of Konohagakure and onto the world outside.

Next up: Lots of Kakashi and Akira history.

Ask or Reblog for a tag!

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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OXYCONTIN OXYCODONE (HCI CONTROLLED RELEASE TABLETS)

—tim grabbed the bottle from the stash of medicines in his apartment, shakily pressing down on the lid to open the locking mechanism.

OT00367K 300514-0H WARNING: OxyContin is an opioid agonist and a Schedule II controlled substance with an abuse liability similar to morphine.

—because thank god alfred somehow managed to keep the batcave infirmary stocked with many different drugs and painkillers. tim remembered the money making people blink, the professional suppliers delivering to an unknown location, leslie turning a blind eye, going so far as to help them sometimes. it gave tim access to whatever he needed to take for his own apartment.

Oxcodone can be abused in a manner similar to other opioid agonists, legal or illicit. This should be considered when prescribing or dispensing OxyContin in situations where the physician or pharmacist is concerned about an increased risk of misuse, abuse, or diversion.

—leslie had glanced at him strange, so tim took her into the medbay and pulled up his sweatpants. the swollen, bruised colour of his ankle was striking against his pale skin. to her credit, leslie didn’t even wince, just used firm hands and warm fingers to examine the wound. tim had asked her not to tell anyone, and the injury was minimal enough for her to purse her lips and nod. she demanded a checkup in a week. with some negotiating, tim moved it up to a week and a half. “be careful with those,” leslie said, gesturing towards the painkillers. “of course,” tim responded easily.

OxyContin Tablets are a controlled-release oral formulation of oxycodone hydrochloride indicated for the management of moderate to severe pain when a continuous, around the clock analgesic is needed for an extended period of time.

—tim leaned against the wall of his bathroom, finally gripping the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it off. a myriad of colours greeted him, everything from mottled yellow to angry violet to the dark red of the blood flecked around the wound on his side. it was stupid, so stupid. damian had come out of that encounter fine, just a couple bruises to the forearms. tim, on the other hand, had to suffer a slice to the side with a knife, all because he’d hurt his ankle and ribs a day ago and hadn’t been able to flip out of the way in time. the pain had been unnoticeable yesterday, but today, it went past his entire body being on fire and instead felt like he’d been dipped in ice. tim was ready to claw his skin off his torso and fix his ribs himself, but he settled for tipping a couple pills into his palm.

OxyContin Tablets are NOT intended for use as a prn analgesic

—tim allowed himself a couple seconds, taking a few deep breaths, the way dick had taught him to push through the pain. then, pushing off the wall, tim stumbled into his bedroom. forgoing dinner, he shrugged his sweatshirt back on and collapsed onto the bed, letting out a hiss of pain when he landed on a bruise. he shuffled over to his favourite side, staying on top of the covers, moving his injured ankle into a somewhat comfortable position, and waited for the pills to kick in as he drifted off to sleep.

OxyContin 80 mg and 160 mg Tablets ARE FOR USE IN OPIOID-TOLERANT PATIENTS ONLY. These tablet strengths may cause fatal respiratory depression when administered to patients not previously exposed to opioids.

—when tim woke up the next day, it was hard to breathe. hypoventilation was nothing new with stronger painkillers, though, so tim groggily stood up and made his way into the bathroom. the bruises had darkened, and the wound was gaping. turned out tim’s initial assessment was wrong: he needed stitches after all. on the bright side, the pain wasn’t as bad today as it was yesterday. tim popped a couple more pills and took out his medkit.

OxyContin Tablets ARE TO BE SWALLOWED WHOLE AND ARE NOT TO BE BROKEN, CHEWED, OR CRUSHED. TAKING BROKEN, CHEWED, OR CRUSHED OxyConton Tablets LEADS TO RAPID RELEASE AND ABSORPTION OF A POTENTIALLY FATAL DOSE OF OXYCODONE.

—bruce needed his help with a black mask case, and he’d called jason in as well, because no one knew the villain like the former crime lord. but jason was also working a human trafficking case with dick, and while things were getting better, dick was still one of the people that routinely defied bruce’s authority, quieter than jason but much more intense. but damian had asked him personally to come (well, he’d said he wanted to show him how to groom alfred the cat, which was practically the same thing), and cass was visiting from hong kong. so, for probably a couple rare hours, everyone was going to be in the manor, and if alfred and cass had anything to say about it, peacefully. tim gathered the information he’d layed out, and made his way towards the manor.

Possible Side Effects of OxyContin include: Drowsiness and/or weakness,

—tim stopped in one of the sitting rooms in the manor, dropping onto the couch after feeling the ground sway underneath him. he probably needed to eat something. knowing what his family would say if anyone found him in this state, he used trembling hands to take his computer out of his backpack, and pull up some mindless case under the pretense of work. he forced his eyes open, letting the blue screen cut through his vision. he had a good night’s rest, so the last thing he needed was to sleep right now. besides, look at dick! the man could stay awake for days on end, or keep going for weeks on minimal sleep, never get slow or sloppy in the field with exhaustion, and kept a warm and welcoming smile on his face the entire time. the least tim could do was put his injury to the side and stay awake for the first few hours of the night, before everything delved into screaming matches and arguments.

dizziness that may be accompanied by a headache,

—tim could feel everybody staring at him. they were analyzing him, taking stock of his weaknesses, he just knew it. and he couldn’t blame them. he could barely keep his head propped up, sitting in front of the screen. he flinched every time a particularly sudden or loud sound cut through the air, making his brain scream and his face wince in pain. tim’s fingers were rubbing his temples, but the effect was laughable against the pounding in his ears, the pounding of his head. “tim,” bruce’s voice caught his attention, deep but not quite gentle. “why don’t you get some water, hm?” tim nodded, then went to stand up stumbling slightly and grabbing the chair for balance. bruce moved to steady him, but tim held a hand out to stop him. he was fine. the floor was moving, the walls were spinning, but he was fine. “just a little tired,” he waved off to bruce. “don’t worry. i’ll grab an energy drink or something later.”

nausea,

—jason’s brow was furrowed as tim forced another bite to his mouth. across the table, dick’s head tilted in question and he asked “i thought alfredo was your favourite?” tim’s smile didn’t feel all that forced when he brought it up, and he forced another bite past his lips. “i’m just not that hungry. i had a snack in the afternoon.” his stomach was rolling, clenching, sizing up and- “if you would like something light, master timothy, i’m sure we have some crackers and soup. you can eat the alfredo another time.” alfred really was too kind. tim’s hands were clenched around the fork, and it took everything he hand not to curl up on his stomach, to heave as he opened his mouth to say “no thanks alfie. i’m good.”

and vomiting,

—tim couldn’t take it anymore. he pushed his chair back and left the table, far more rudely than he’d ever been before, barring an argument at the dinner table, and raced upward, willing his uncooperative feet and busted ankle to cooperate no matter the dizziness. he could hear the confused cries of his family behind him, but ignored them. tim threw open the door to the bathroom, having the mind to close and lock it, before falling over the toilet, heaving up the little pasta he’d managed to force down. and when that was done, there came the fire. the pain in his stomach as he tried to throw up what wasn’t even in his stomach anymore and oh was that blood? that wasn’t a good sign.

among other side effects. For a complete list of all possible side affects, ask your doctor or pharmacist.

—there was pounding on the door, and tim heard dick’s voice calling out his name. “fuckin’ pick the lock!” jason’s voice was angry. of course it was angry, the one time his family hadn’t come to blows and tim had ruined it. couldn’t he have held it together for just a few more hours? suddenly, there was a loud crack. cass had kicked the door in. she leaped into the bathroom, immediately over to him, with dick hot at her heels. jason was leaning against the doorway, keeping damian or bruce from coming in.

Previous medical conditions, such as lung problems, head injury, liver or kindey problems, adrenal gland problems, convulsions or seizures, alcoholism, hallucinations or other severe mental problems, and past or present substance abuse or addiction may heighten the negative effects of the oxycodone.

—voices filtered into tim’s mind, but everything sounded like he was underwater. muffled, quiet. the quiet was nice. if only his headache could get with the program. there were hands on his shoulders, cupping his face. they were warm, and felt strong. he was safe. there was a part of him screaming, though. get up, open your eyes, stop being weak! stop being pathetic! the others could do so much more than you, so just stop acting like a victim and be useful for once! the voice was demanding, and tim tried to do just that, the dizziness had come back with a vengeance and the room was spinning. or maybe his vision was whiting out, because everything flared a bright, brilliant white before tim was plunged into darkness.

Pharmacist: dispense the attached Medication Guide to any patient taking OxyContin Tablets.

OT00367K 300514-0H

i don’t actually know how OxyContin works so all of this may be horribly wrong. this is just what the warning label said on a bottle i found in the medicine cabinet.

tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg

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snowgloberoundandround · 4 years

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This trend of telling people to “wear a d*mn mask” or calling people selfish for choosing not wearing a mask in public needs to stop. It is a callously cruel thing to say, and extremely damaging to hear every single day. People have their reasons for not wearing a mask, just as much as you have your reasons for wearing yours.

Here are just a few reasons people don’t wear a mask:

Assorted medical reasons - most places are making exceptions for medical reasons in the fine print, but most medical reasons a stranger on the street won’t be able to see, they’ll just see the lack of a mask. People with legitimate medical exceptions are harassed every day by people, both strangers and employees, who assume they are just being apathetic and flippant. They are berated by social media’s inflammatory hashtags and posts that demand you wear a mask. It’s not okay to assume why someone is not wearing a mask, it’s not okay to judge someone for not wearing a mask, and it’s not legal to ask what the medical condition is. You’re not a doctor, you’re not their doctor.

Asthma/respiratory fatigue - for oxygenation we measure what is called your Sp02 levels. A normal, resting level should be in the 98-100 range. Under anesthesia if it gets in the low 90’s we’re mildly concerned and trying to restore it, we never want to see it in the 80’s. Some studies with the masks have shown Sp02 levels in healthy, fit individuals wearing masks while walking briskly for several minutes dropping into the 70’s. That’s very, very bad. One of my friends has bad asthma, she wore her mask for a quick 5-minute trip into the store yesterday. It took her TWO HOURS to recover. If you have a pre-existing respiratory condition, wearing a mask can be extremely harmful. You shouldn’t have to be told you’re a bad person because someone doesn’t get that you’re just trying to breathe.

Skin conditions - Masks trap moisture close to your face. If you have severe acne, eczema, psoriasis, are prone to infection, etc. having a mask on your face repeatedly for long periods of time can result in bad infections and be a painful irritant. Along with all the other points on this thread, employers also have little care for the health and well-being of their employees in this regard, especially corporate employers, who rather cover their risk of being sued rather than allow their employees to not wear a mask for the sake of their health. There have also been cases of young and healthy individuals getting lung infections from wearing a mask 40+ hours a week. Constantly breathing in moisture and carbon dioxide was not something that the human body was meant to do.

Anxiety/panic attacks - I have anxiety, and most the time I can handle it. But I’ve had anxiety about going to the store by myself LONG before this all started, so if I have the mask on for more than five minutes at the store I start feeling like I can’t breathe well. And my anxiety isn’t anywhere near as bad as some. We’ve had to call 911 for my mom at least half a dozen times in the span of my life, and those are just the really bad panic attacks, not all the little after shocks. Now think about if you’re having an anxiety attack, and had to take your mask off, and it’s not that severe but you’re teetering on the edge, and some rando comes by and says “HEY PUT A MASK ON” or “It’s not doing anything if it’s not on your face.” Imagine how much worse that makes it because you’re already struggling to keep it together and now you’re met with confrontation.

Physical/sexual abuse victims - imagine having to live through someone trying to actually suffocate you, and then you’re told you have to wear a mask at all times. All you feel is that hand over your face, all you feel is the inability to escape, being constricted and restrained. THEN imagine everyone telling you you’re being selfish for not wearing a mask, simply because they don’t know what horrors you’ve been through. Further more, the governor of my state said anxiety is not a good enough excuse not to wear a mask, so you’re branded a criminal for not wanting to relive the worst moment of your life in memory.

PTSD - this is basically the same principle as the two afore mentioned, as PTSD comes in many shapes and sizes. However it bears stating the lasting emotional trauma masks will have on many children in schools. For a nervous little third grader, telling her for eight hours a day she can’t sit with her friends, can’t play with them on the playground, can’t interact with anyone, has to be screened every day, and in some schools are required to stay in little solitary cubicles... that ABSOLUTELY can give a child PTSD while also inhibiting their development.

Autism - some autistic people have severe texture adversities. For any child having a mask over their face is a difficult thing to tolerate, but especially for an autistic child who can only tolerate a select few materials when it comes to normal clothes. This is a good post that goes into more detail on how the current hostility toward anyone who doesn’t where a mask promotes an ableist outlook

In protest - Because they believe that the deaths and emotional trauma from mask culture is more detrimental than the initial virus, such depression, the medical treatment that was denied and people died from because it was not deemed “essential”, the families that go hungry because of jobs lost, the resulting crime and lawlessness that hurts people, the panic/anxiety and emotional scarring it will have on children in schools, etc. Many people will call it selfish to not wear a mask out of protest, but in reality it is BECAUSE you care about people that you protest by not wearing a mask. If you believe it is doing more harm than good for the population as a whole, the most selfless thing you can do is risk being ridiculed and punished for standing up.

Science and statistics - Many people simply believe that the science doesn’t prove that masks are unequivocally beneficial and that the statistics don’t validate their efficacy. The ideology has become “the masks are better than nothing” but as the above points listed have countered, sometimes a mask is WORSE than nothing. Furthermore, instituting mandatory masks on the basis of it may or may not help is extremely poor leadership. You don’t collapse a society, cause lasting economic and emotional crisis for something you don’t know for certain if it will work. You don’t create laws on a maybe. That is a detrimental way of thinking because it is destroying our society, producing casualties of all kinds, for something you don’t even know if it really helps. People have lost their lives, their food, their jobs, their businesses they built from the ground up because of the astronomical fines and closures if they do not enforce masks that may or may not be effective. Masks are not necessarily a “temporary inconvenience”, there are lasting effects. Most people who don’t wear masks, don’t do so because they are short-sighted and selfish, but they do so because they believe it is in the best interest of everyone to make masks optional, because of their great care for others and how it impacts everyone involved.

But the bottom line is this:

The simple reason that I believe it’s better for my health not to wear a mask is reason enough to not have to wear one. I have the right to decide what is best for my health and act accordingly, and I should not be attacked for that.

#ive been writing this for a WEEK #instagram is just. not a place i wanna be these days #shadow rambles

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sockknitterporg · 3 years

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The main bulk of my suffering is directly related to the manufactured "opiate crisis" that has caused untold pain and suffering for so many millions of people for so many, many years. In this essay, I intend to place my experiences in their proper context, as one of a sharply growing series of victims of medical malpractice stemming from the fundamental shift in our society from seeing pain patients as people to be treated, to deriding them as addicts to be suspicious of.

Though it says volumes about our society that we see addicts as fundamentally 'bad' people who deserve homelessness and death instead of as human beings, often times human beings who are suffering greatly and turn to the only thing that makes life even mildly bearable. But that's neither here nor there. (For more information about addiction, see https://tinyurl.com/rat-park )

Our story begins in 1996, when Purdue Pharma (Stamford, CT, USA) released OxyContin, a sustained release oxycodone preparation that is also sold here in the UK. In the US, where such things are legal, it was aggressively marketed and promoted as less dangerous and less addictive than other opiate preparations. (Source & more information about OxyContin's marketing: https://tinyurl.com/oxymarket )

Anyone who thinks a $200 million a year marketing campaign would not spill over to the UK is more than merely obtuse, but likely willfully ignorant. The entire 'opiate epidemic' is an American import, and it started there: with an unscrupulous American company that would stop at nothing to make money.

Lulled into a false sense of security by Purdue's claims of minimal risk of addiction, doctors began prescribing OxyContin much more liberally and for much more than they originally would have. This increased availability set many people up for addiction and overdose deaths.

To most people, that is the bulk of what the 'opiate crisis' is. But there is a secondary crisis unfolding quietly behind closed doors. In the USA, there are "Don't Punish Pain" rallies that at least try to draw attention to the situation ( https://dontpunishpainrally.com ), but here in the UK we are entirely forgotten and buried under the British 'stiff upper lip' mentality. It is completely hushed up, no one talks about the fact that the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction. (For example: https://tinyurl.com/opiate-pendulum )

The government and/or the NHS have enforced involuntarily tapering of chronic pain patients' medication. Medication we need in order to not spend our lives screaming in agony. The pain management clinic has already warned me that it is, direct quote, "when, not if" I will find my own medication terminated, ready or not.

But there will be no 'ready'. Chronic pain does not get better with time. Chronic pain does not go into remission. If you know someone with chronic pain who appears to be 'getting better', I can promise you it is merely that the sufferer has learned to better conceal it. It's a saying in the chronic pain community, "We don't fake being ill. We fake being well."

We have learned that the average person only has about two weeks of compassion in them, after that you're treated as a freak for not getting better already, or outright accused of malingering. After all, with all of modern science, can't you just go to the doctor and get a pill and be done with it? Our concept of illness is either 'you go to the hospital, get treated, and come out okay' or 'you go to the hospital, waste away, and die'. Chronic pain patients, who never get better, but aren't actively dying, don't fit in to our society's 'concept' of illness.

People who offer to help us out for the social brownie points of helping the poor cripple soon discover that we're not going to die, we're going to continue to need help for the forseeable future. Rather than gracefully admitting that they don't have the ability to help us in perpetuity (which would be perfectly understandable!), most people choose to lash out at us, we must be abusing their kindness, they helped so we must surely be better by now. Compassion fatigue seems to hit every single human being that interacts with us, as if merely existing while disabled is wearing on their ability to remain civil. (Compassion fatigue: https://tinyurl.com/2-week-fatigue )

Doctors have even less compassion than that. In the backlash of the 'crisis', they have begun to treat anyone who complains of pain, unilaterally, as a drug seeker. And those of us already in treatment? Are addicts in need of rehab. (More examples: https://tinyurl.com/drs-no-compassion )

Despite study after study (Studies: https://tinyurl.com/no-taper ) showing that tapering chronic pain patients unequivocally causes severe harm, up to and including death, the pain management team said to my face that I am, direct quote, "addicted to heroin" and "no different from my four year old grandson, demanding a choccy biscuit because he doesn't know they'll rot his teeth. And I have to smack him and tell him NO! And I'll smack you, too, if it'll get you off those drugs!" (Somehow my complaint that a doctor had literally smacked his hands in front of my face to demonstrate that he was sincere in his threat to physically assault me.... mysteriously got lost.)

I have been denied treatment for other (non-opiate) methods of reducing my pain because, direct quote, "it doesn't matter as long as you're on those drugs, opiates actually make you more sensitive to pain in the long run, so there's no sense trying anything else if you won't get clean." They talk to me like taking my medication responsibly, as prescribed, is the same as shooting up black tar. All in the hopes of bullying or shaming me into "voluntarily" tapering.

Honestly just living under these conditions alone would be enough to snap my mental health in half, but you have to remember that I'm not only facing all of this systemic bullying and professional misconduct while also living with pain that has often been compared to late stage cancer and chemotherapy ( https://tinyurl.com/fibro-chemo ), as well as debilitating fatigue, and a shroud of fog hanging around my brain and clouding my memories and judgments (and at times, my ability to speak English). Everyone's first reaction is "did you report them? you should report them. why didn't you report them!" as if I'm too stupid to have thought of that myself. But I don't have the energy for the lengthy bureaucratic nightmare that is dealing with the NHS's administration, especially not when I could have my entire life destroyed by a doctor's bruised ego penning into my file "patient was uncooperative and combative, suspect drug abuse".

It's only a matter of time before I choose suicide over another sleepless night of laying in bed and praying for death. And when that time comes, I hope that my name is added to the long, bloodstained list of people who have killed themselves not out of any sort of depression, but because their entire existence is built on pain and suffering and enough becomes enough for the last time. Drop my body on the steps of the CDC, which is the main driving force behind the opiate witch hunt. Maybe death will at least bring me some measure of peace.

#chronic pain #chronic illness #disability #opiates #fibromyalgia

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impala666 · 3 years

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The One With The Monkey Part One: Marcel The Monkey

Here you go! Ross gets Marcel and Phoebe sings a depressing Christmas song!

Friends Rewrite (masterlist) Last Part (part four, episode 9)

Four of you were sitting around Monica and Rachel’s kitchen table with a bowl of popcorn and a bowl of cranberries and you, Phoebe, and Joey were helping them make a strand of garland. You had work early in the morning tomorrow and even all day tomorrow, but thankfully all you could think about was Phoebe finally getting to perform holiday songs at Central Perk tomorrow night and all of you were going to watch and support her. “Guys, there’s somebody I’d like you to meet.” Ross who just happened to poke his head through the door like he lived there, but to be fair all of you kind of did that. Your jaw immediately dropped open when Ross entered and the cutest little monkey came in riding in on Ross’s back.

“Wait, w-wait, what is that?” Monica asked, not sure whether she should step toward it or run away.

“That would be Marcel.” Ross introduced the furry creature. “Wanna say hi?”

“Yes, please!” You shrieked when you ran around the table to take the monkey from Ross, and Marcel seemed more than happy to crawl down Ross and on to your shoulder. Your smile only grew when Marcel’s tail hung over your other shoulder.

“He is precious, where did you get him?” Rachel asked as she watched the monkey relaxing on your shoulder.

“My friend, Bethel, rescued him from some lab.” Ross explained while he took Marcel back from you, but you couldn’t help but shake your head at the fact that the poor little guy had to go through so many experiments and tests that he never had the say of just because of the species that he was.

“That is so cruel.” You nodded in agreement with what Phoebe said, thinking she was on the right path. But boy, were you wrong. “Why would a parent name their child Bethel?”

“That was not what I expected out of you, Pheebs,” you said a little disappointed in yourself for getting your hopes up. You reached into the popcorn bowl and popped one in your mouth to prevent you from saying anything else.

“Hey, that monkey’s got a Ross on his ass.” Chandler greeted his friend after he had stepped out of bathroom, and leaned against the back of Joey’s chair.

“Ross, is he gonna live with you like in your apartment?” Monica couldn't help but ask an actual question out of concern for her older brother.

“Yeah, it’s been kind of quiet since Carol moved out.” Which seemed like a very logical reason to go out there and get a pet that is completely out of the normal, you could totally understand Ross’s thought process on this one.

“Why not just get a roommate?” Monica asked, yet another great question.

“I think when you reach a certain age, having a roommate is kind of pathet…” After playing with Marcel’s tail, Ross realized the mistake he made when he saw all of you staring at him waiting for him to finish that sentence correctly. “Sorry, that's ‘pathet’ which is sanskrit for ‘really cool way to live.”

**********

Finally, finally, finally, your day was over with. You toured the school that you were accepted to and have a very long 8 hour shift, so now it was time to kick back and see your weird and beautiful friend sing her set at Central Perk. As you walked into the building you were finally able to unclench once you felt the heat after just walking block after block in the freezing cold snow. “,and one about a snowman.” You heard Phoebe finish as she sat on the arm of the couch with her guitar on her lap. When they all see you enter all of them flashed you a smile in greeting, which you returned once you had hung your coat and scarf on the hooks by the door. After you had ordered your preferred hot drink of the day, you finally walked over to spend time with everyone. But apparently Joey wasn’t there yet.

“Might want to open with the snowman,” Chandler told her. But you just looked at him confused. “Oh trust me, you don’t want to know.” Chandler promised once he saw the look on your face.

“Oookay,” you mumbled into your cup as you sat down on the couch arm next to Monica. “Hey, Joey,” you smiled once you saw him walking into the shop as he dusted off some of the snow that had fallen on him. Everyone joined in on your greeting him, while greeted everyone else also walking up to you, placing a hand on your waist and pecking you on the lips as your greeting.

“So, how’d it go?” Monica asked Joey, wondering how his job interview for being Santa Clause went.

“I didn’t get the job,” Joey groaned in disappointment as he took off his coat and sat down in the chair next to you. All of you awed in agreement with his disappointment, while you leaned forward from your spot on the couch to rub his arm in sympathy. It was hard enough for him to get work as an actor, and now he didn't get the one job he got and looked forward to every year. Joey looked up at you with a sad smile while taking your hand while he sat backwards in his seat.

“How could you not get it? You were Santa last year.” Ross couldn’t help but ask, Joey was really looking forward to that job.

“I know!” You whined in agreement with Ross, “you were a shoe in, and you were so excited.” Plus he would make a really really hot Mr. Claus, but you decided to keep that piece of information to yourself.

“I don’t know. Some fat guy’s sleeping with the store manager. He’s not even jolly, it’s all political.” Joey added in on the complaining that just seemed unfair.

“I’m sorry, hon.” You rubbed his arm as you got to your feet. “Do you want some coffee?” You offered while giving him a hug and wrapping your arm around his neck. He nodded a yes, and you pecked him on the forehead before turning to the counter and ordering a coffee to cheer him up.

“So what’re you going to be?” Monica asked.

“I’m going to be one of his helpers, but it’s just such a slap in the face, you know?” He just couldn’t get past the way that he didn’t get the job that he knew that he was so right for.

“Hey, do you guys know what you’re doing for New Years?” Rachel asked, causing everyone except you and Joey to groan just at the thought that none of them had dates. “Geez, what is wrong with New Years?” Clearly not liking that way that she was getting attacked.

“Well nothing for you, you have Paolo. And it’s not a problem for Y/N or Joey either because they have each other. You don’t have to face the horrible pressures of this holiday.” Chandler explained to her as he walked over towards her. “The desperate scramble to find anything with lips just so you have somebody to kiss when the ball drops! Man, I’m talking loud.” He finally just noticed that his voice was dramatically getting louder and louder with each sentence.

“Well, for your information. Paolo is going to be in Rome this New Years, so I’ll be just as pathetic as the rest of you.” Rachel explained to the rest of you. “Well, except Joey and Y/N,” she grimaced at how lucky you two are while she watched Joey kiss you very sweetly after you brought him the coffee that you bought for him.

“Yeah, you wish,” Phoebe added in where her comment didn’t really make sense.

“It’s just that I’m sick of being victim to this Dick Clark holiday.” Chandler wowed. “I say this year, no dates. We make a pact, just the seven of us. Dinner.” Everyone seemed to be in agreement.

“How can it be no couples in the seven of us when two of us are already in a relationship?” You asked him, retaking your spot on the arm of the couch.

“Just don’t act like one, okay?” Chandler whined as he tried to reason with you and his best friend. “I know which will be hard for you because you two are gross.”

“Well, thank you,” you said taking it as a compliment.

“Well, you’re welcome.” Chandler played back. “And I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm.” Causing everyone into different forms of celebratory sounds.

“Phoebe, you’re on.” Rachel warned her as she stepped onto the now stage to introduce her friend. “Ladies and gentlemen, back by popular demand. Miss Phoebe Buffay!” Rachel wooed as she and everyone else in the building applauded and Phoebe took the stage.

“Hi!” Phoebe said into the mic. “Yeah, hi. I want to start with a song that means a lot to me this time of year.” You smiled watching in wonderment as Chandler leaned against the side of the couch next to you. Phoebe jingled some bells before she officially started her song. “I made a man with eyes of coal and a smile so bewitching.” Phoebe started to sing what sounded like was going to be a nice, cool Christmas song, but you should have know better by now that it would take a drastic and depressing turn. “How was I supposed to know that my mom was dead in the kitchen?” And immediately your smiling face turned into an uncomfortable and disturbed face, which you shared when with Ross and Monica.

Now the mood in the coffee shop that was once filled with Christmas cheer was now filled with a depressing silence. Phoebe’s song was far from over, making everyone very depressed and just staring off into space. Rachel was sunk down in a chair, Chandler took your spot on the couch arm, and you were sitting on Joey’s knee with your head resting on Joey’s head with the look of deep sadness on your face. “My mother’s ashes, even her eyelashes are resting in a little yellow jar. And sometimes when it’s breezy, or I feel a little sneezy, and now. Excuse me!” Phoebe stopped singing which made you wake up a little tiny bit, and she started yelling at the rude, loud talking men. “Excuse me! Noisy boys? Is it something that you would like to share with the entire group?” She asked them, like a teacher catching a few of her students passing around notes during class.

“No, no. That’s okay.” The nerdy guy in the flannel told her.

“Ohhh they’re in trouble.” You whispered with a little smirk on your face. Chandler looked at you with a similar smirk, as well as Joey and Rachel next to you.

“Well come on, if it’s important enough to discuss while I’m playing then I assume it’s important enough for everyone else to hear.” Phoebe argued back over at Flannel.

“Well, that guy’s going home with a note.” Chandler told the three of you with a bit of a scared look on his face.

“Could you speak up please?” Phoebe asked very close to the microphone when the other guy in the sweater started mumbling out his reasoning for interrupting her.

“Sorry,” the guy in the sweater stood up. “I was saying to my friend that I thought you were the most beautiful woman that I’d ever seen in my life and then he said that you thought that Daryl Hannah was the most beautiful woman that he’d ever seen in his life. And I said, “Yeah I liked her in Splash a lot, but not so much in Wall Street, I thought she had a hard quality. And, um, while Daryl Hannah is beautiful in a conventional way you are luminous with a kind of delicate grace.” The guy paused after realizing he just said in public. “Then that’s when you started yelling.” After he finished the guy in the sweater sat back down in his seat. All of you turned towards Phoebe to see what her reaction was going to be.

“Okay, we’re going to take a short break.” She announced while setting her guitar down on the stand so that she could go talk to that man that said all the nice things about her.

“That guy’s going home with more than a note.” Joey announced with a sneaky smirk on his face.

#friends rewrite #friends #Joey Tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #bing!reader #sister!bing #ross geller #chandler bing #rachel green #monica geller #phoebe buffay

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sandersgrey · 3 years

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Juno Steel and Sam Vimes are the same person

Well, no. Not actually. That's what I want to talk about.

They do have a lot of similarities: both have an intense relationship with their city, which they understand to be corrupted down to its core but which they nevertheless couldn't see themselves leaving even after it repeatedly almost killed them; both were raised (a generous word when applied to Sarah, but still) by their mothers with no input from a father; both are or had been cops in a failing, corrupted system; both have a moral core of, if you'll forgive the wordplay, steel, to the point where their moral outrage is seen as a defining trait; both are very smart, but tend to rush in; both have had symbolic eye injuries at one point; both were manipulated by the ruler of their city.

Same person, except their arcs end in incredibly different places, don't they? Why is that?

That's because The Penumbra Podcast and The Watch have different themes at their core.

Let's tackle their arcs individually, shall we? Spoiler alert.

We meet Sam Vimes at the absolute bottom, in a ditch, raving about Ankh-Morpork in a monologue that is similar in meaning, if not in articulation, to Juno's monologues about Hyperion City. He's an alcoholic. The Watch is a joke and has next to no actual power, consisting of only Sam, Nobby, and Colon. Their fourth man's funeral had just happened.

Yet, at the end of The Watch series, Sam Vimes is the richest man in the city, a Duke, with a loving wife and a son, extremely respected and having reformed the Watch to a point where it is efficient and the most diverse organization in the city. The cops he trained are in high demand in the country and are called sammies. He has shaken hands with kings and is highly respected by the Patrician.

How did he get there?

That's where The Watch's theme comes in: Sam Vimes is a very smart man, but he's only ever able to make actual change in the city due to the support and help of other people. In Guards! Guards!, those people are able to be counted in one hand, but some of them are also powerful: Sybil is the richest woman in the city, and one of the noblest; Vetinari, who impeded Vimes' investigation at first, ends up helping him out of the dungeon and rewarding the Watch at the end of the book; Carrot is the king by all rights, except for the fact that he doesn't want to be. Vimes'd go spare.

They are just people. But they're people who, at least at times, actively try to make the city better. And Vimes' support only grows with time.

Powerful people listen to Vimes. Most of them are even trying to do good independently of him, to make things better one step at a time. Goodness is something that is built slowly in places like Ankh-Morpork.

Sam Vimes tries, again and again, to do things on his own, only to be thwarted when people keep going with him. This isn't just his fight. He only gets to grow when relying on other people.

And he does grow. He stops drinking, and finds purpose in reforming the Watch with Carrot and Sybil's help, and then with the help of a dozen other people. He unlearns his prejudice.

There is a case to be made that, in staying in Ankh-Morpork and dedicating so much of himself to it, to the point where it more than once endangers his family, Sam never gets to stop overworking himself. He doesn't know how to take a holiday or a break. He canonically leaves Sybil alone for longer than she'd like.

It's impossible to imagine Sam Vimes retiring out of his own free will. That is not a good thing.

But, on the whole, he's in a much better place than at the beginning- and not only him, but the city; and not only the city, but the world. The Watch is a love letter to collectivism, even if it doesn't seem like that at times.

It says if enough people get up and do the job that's in front of them, the world gets better for it.

That is not the core of The Penumbra Podcast.

Now that we've seen what happens to Vimes, it's pretty easy to spot the difference when it comes to Juno's arc. While The Watch believes in organizations and communities, the junoverse believes in families and friends. While it does touch on the whole, it puts its faith on those small human connections.

Hyperion doesn't get better because a lot of people decide to work hard on it. Hyperion gets better because of a manipulator who could have ended humanity as we understand it and who believed Good meant taking people's lives off their hands. The result is almost collateral to Ramses' plan. And that's what drives Juno off world.

We don't actually see Juno at his worse. We know he drinks, that he's depressed and passively suicidal, that he drives almost everyone away, but his time in ditches is only referred to. When we meet him, Juno is mostly functional.

While Vimes' Watch was powerless, the police force in junoverse is very much powerful, if intensely corrupt, which is why Juno couldn't stay as a cop and still be a likable protagonist.

Whille powerful people do help him, it's often in their own interest: Vicky wants him to solve a case for her; Ramses wants him to assuage his guilt. Most often, the people who do help him with little to no ulterior motive are Rita, who's an incredible hacker, but in no way powerful beyond that as far as we know; Peter Nureyev, who does not want a whole planet to be wiped but really doesn't want to stay and work on its other problems; and Jet and Buddy, who do have the ulterior motive of wanting him to work for them but deserve a honorable mention for actually coming to care about him as a person later on.

Juno is not a person to Ramses. He's a tool, and a moral compass Ramses refuses to actually look at, and a victim he feels the need to recompense.

Is it any wonder, then, that Juno's arc leads him off Hyperion? That his epiphany is that he cannot, should not, pour himself into the city until it drains him dry? (There can be some symbolism in the test of generosity, if you look.) Juno grows by prioritizing himself and the people he cares about (Rita, at that point it's mostly Rita) above the city that has given him nothing.

Neither narrative is worth more or less than the other. Stay and help- a purpose can give you reason to work on yourself, and it is possible to make things better and Go, make sure you won't die here, the only reason you need is that other people care about you, and that you can learn to care about yourself are both very important messages.

Junoverse is far from over, though. Who knows what it will say when everything done with?

#alex wont shut up #discworld #the penumbra podcast #tpp #juno steel #sam vimes #meta #junoverse #this is a post for an audience of one

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peachyunjinnie · 4 years

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❝homecoming❞ hyj ― m.

― summary:

hyunjin was gone for the unveil tour and finally comes to your apartment, a day earlier than you expected. he finds you trying on some of the new lingerie you have gotten from your sister.

idol!hyunjin/girlfriend!reader | smut | 1.4k ↬ content warnings: dom!hyunjin, daddy kink, riding, unprotected sex.

a/n: another request from anon, i hope you enjoy it! <3

→ blogs masterlist

“I don’t know about this, maybe this is too much?” I asked my sister not so sure about this surprise she said would be a good idea,

“Come on, he will love this a lot.” Our look on the mirror in front, reflecting this more than revealing lingerie set she has bought me for a little ‘surprise’ for Hyunjin once he comes home.

“Thank you a lot for giving me this but I don’t know if this will be good...” I let my head hang down as she was smiling at me and had a reassuring look in her eyes.

“You look absolutely beautiful and I mean, if Hyunjin won’t be all over you then I don’t know what will.” She gave me a small hug. I don’t think I can say anything against that statement.

“Okay, I will get out of here before it gets too late.” She said while she was packing her stuff into her big bag, all of the products she had used on me that made me look like a model. She needed someone to test her makeup and her hair skills on and who could be a better victim than her sister.

“Thank you again, I look a little less depressed now.” I joked with her. She gave me another big hug before she has gotten out of the door and drove off.

In front of the mirror I admired the talent she had. My hair that she gave beachy waves, the makeup that she has painted on my face. It was mind blowing how she could create this on my face. The lingerie she ordered for me, to prevent me from going completely crazy, missing Hyunjin more than ever.

I just stood there with a hand on my face just admiring her work. I touched the white lace on my skin, the bra of the set complementing the curves of my breasts and the string only covering the most important parts that should be teasingly hidden with the cloth.

I jumped as I heard my phone ring on my bed, giving off a loud sound. This one ringtone I had decided to choose for Hyunjin rumbled across the room, giving me chills and shivers. I quickly jumped up and ran to the bed. My heart beating rapidly.

“Hyunjin?!” I said.

“Hi baby, how are you?” He asked with a deeper voice.

“I am good, I miss you.” My pout could be heard through the phone.

“You miss me?” He asked with an audible smirk.

“Yes, you will come tomorrow. Right?” My voice changed tune while I terribly tried to hide my desperation and cravings for Hyunjin. I needed him more than ever, now that I was able to clearly hear his voice gave me a rush of excitement.

“No...I’m sorry. I had some changes in the schedule, Kitten.” The rush of excitement quickly turned into a dull feeling of disappointment. He promised me that tomorrow they would be done.

“Ah...No, it’s okay! It’s fine..” I was trying hard to not sound as sad as I actually was. A sad smile on my lips and liquid in my eyes.

“It’s not fine, I really am so sorry.” He said and sounded as sad as I was or maybe even more depressed. Silence filled the room after he suddenly ended the call, maybe he had some tour stuff to do or maybe Chan said it’s time to go to bed. Insomniacs telling each other to go to sleep, funny.

As I was sitting on the bed, the lingerie was starting to feel like a burden and I was on my way to take everything off but got stopped by a door creaking open and a figure stepping inside. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin stepped in, with his smile beaming me away to cloud nine.

“Woah, you look...” He said and looked up and down my body. My hair, in waves and falling down my back. My makeup that was in a smokey look, helping to give a good contrast on the white lingerie. The exposed and soft skin that was showing the perfectly natural curves. Plus my position that I was sitting in right now, gave him a complete view on my body.

“Hyunjin!!” I jumped up and ran to him to give him the biggest hug on this earth. Throwing my arms around his neck and pushing him down to my height. His very cold hands on my bare and open back, giving my skin a decoration of goosebumps.

“Did someone miss me? Little princess.” His whisper right next to my ear, deep and soft at the same time. I couldn’t believe that I got what I craved for days and weeks.

“I missed you so much!...” I broke the hug to look at him. As we were getting a deep glare from the other , we have gotten closer and closer. Noses touching, eyes closing and lips craving for the softness and the pressure against them.

Finally, this ‘innocent’ kiss started to get intense and deep. His low and deep groans ringing in my ears. He pushed my ass with his hand to jump and hug his waist with my legs. He walked to the bed and sat down with me on his lap. Me sitting on top of him and straddling him with my slightly covered core, pushing against his obvious bulge. His groans telling me to continue my actions and his hard and rough grip on my waist guiding me.

“Needy, are we?” He asked against my lips and smiled into the kiss. I groaned in response to his question, earning a smirk from him. I stood up from his grip and opened his belt. He looked down at my small hands doing their job so effortlessly. A rock-hard Hyunjin bounced up, with his tip directly pointing at my lips. I wanted to put him in my mouth but got stopped by an eager Hyunjin. He grabbed my hand and stopped me from touching his dick at all, leaving me confused. I looked at his shining eyes and the darkness reflected his feelings and his lustful and dirty imagination.

“Ride me.” He whispered and I smirked at his demand. The dominant voice of his getting my panties to get damp. I climed on top of him and straddled him again, getting on his lap and trying my very hardest to get myself ready for his big and needy size.

He ripped off the brand new panties and pushed me down his dick. My mouth opening wide and letting out a loud and high squeak, being filled up so sweetly. His face lighting up at my painful expression.

“A-Ah-Fuck I- H-Hyun-Hyunjin Yo-You’re so big!-“ I let every single sound out and twitched hardly. My hands on his chest, trying to get away from him a little. Trying to espace this fulfillment. He started to guide me through and helped me to roll my hips. I couldn’t move properly, my head being up with the stars.

He thrusted upwards to my dripping core, drenching his loneliness in this lustful movement. He moaned out loud as he slapped my ass, leaving a big and red handprint on my throbbing cheek. I slapped my hand over my mouth and tried to not be too noisy. My heart beating out of my chest from his tip hitting the best spots possible.

“Don’t cover your mouth, I want to hear you.” Hyunjin groaned in my ear. Softly and deeply. I couldn't stand being so full of him anymore. He grabbed my hip and led me to ride him. My body full of spots and bruises, this world tour had made him extremely needy. He slapped my ass and grabbed my neck with his big hands.

“Who’s your daddy?” He asked with his voice still ringing in my ears.

“You, H-Hyunjin-” I said with every single thrust he has made underneath me. His hands on my hips and pushing me down, filling me up completely.

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viscountessevie · 3 years

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To Lady Paige, With Love [Part 2]

Main Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x FemOC! Paige Crane [Reference to Past! Marina Thompson x Paige Crane]

Series Summary: A WLW Rewrite of To Sir Phillip, With Love - featuring my OC Paige Crane, Phillip's twin sister. What happens when Eloise Bridgerton writes to Phillip after the death of his wife but her letter gets intercepted by his twin sister who loved more Marina than he ever did?

Chapter Summary: After corresponding with Eloise for over a year using her brother's name, Paige is mourning Marina's first death anniversary. All Paige wanted was some peace and quiet but little does she know, she's in for a rude awakening

Trigger Warnings: Grief, Brief Mentions of Previous Death/Suicide Attempt, Depression & Anxiety

Part 1 - Prologue: Take Me To The Lakes

Chapter 1: Right Where You Left Me [February 1823]

5:48pm. That time would haunt Paige for the rest of her life.

'Time of death: 5:48pm.' the doctor had said. The moment Marina was officially pronounced dead, Paige screamed. She could still hear the echoes of her own scream every night she spent in Marina's room, sobbing herself to sleep. It had been a month since she died. Paige truly understood what Marina felt and went through.

The grief, pain and sadness was all consuming. She was drowning in her own emotions. It made her want to throw herself into the lake and join Marina. At least drowning in the lake was tangible. It was a tangible way to match the melancholy she was feeling. Through the pain, Paige had learnt that when people take their lives, they don't get rid of the melancholy, they simply pass it on. Paige had become a victim of Marina's pain being passed onto her.

She knew that everyone was dealing with the loss on their own but she was just so angry with Phillip and the children and even the staff. Pretending like Marina was never there. The worst part is, she couldn't fault them for it. Marina wasn't there, at least not mentally present. The last month has eased off her anger. She nearly bit Phillip's head off when he came back from his business trip the day before she passed.

"You should have been here! I may love her but she's still your wife!"

"I had a very important specimen to pick up, you know that, Paige." He said gruffly. She was so sick and tired of him using his experiments as an excuse to neglect his family.

"I know that!" She snapped at him, "These trips are getting ridiculous. You can't keep using them to run away from your responsibilities. You made a commitment to her and your children. You completely abandoned them!" Her voice cracked with anger. Now Phillip was getting frustrated with her and snapped back at his twin.

"Do you think I wanted to carry those burdens? I had no choice in the matter! I had to be the one to clean up the mess George left behind!"

She stepped back at her brother's outburst. He never yelled. He refused to be their father. She knew she had crossed the line. She softened her expression.

"I shouldn't have yelled, I apologise. But so help me God, you will not repeat that to her or the children. They are our family, Phillip, 'not a mess George left behind." Her voice was low, laced with a cold fury.

"She's resting now but you should go see her. I'll give you two some privacy." Paige made her suggestion sound like a demand. There was absolutely no reason why he should neglect his duties as a husband now. She wasn't going to let him off the hook for it. She quickly slipped into the room to kiss Marina's forehead. She allowed Philip in and headed off to tend to the children.

Then there was that dreadful conversation where Amanda openly admitted that she was glad her mother was gone. Paige knew on an intellectual level that's not what Amanda had meant. She meant she was happy her mother was happy even if it meant she was gone. But emotionally, it destroyed Paige to hear that.

It was exhausting to feel like the only one who truly cared for Marina. She had all these emotions welled up inside her, screaming to be let out. Yet she felt like she couldn't talk to anyone. The children played and carried on as per normal. While Phillip had stopped taking his trips to avoid the children, he has hidden away in the Greenhouse more often. He refuses to talk about her. What else could she expect from her twin who represses the slightest hint of human emotion. God forbid he let himself feel sad.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that everyone processed grief in different ways. She needed something to get her mind off things. On cue, Miles came in to deliver the mail. She gestured for him to hand them over and he took his leave.

She flipped through the envelopes, none addressed to her. Of course no one would write to her and the only person who would, died. She was about to put down the pile when a name jumped out at her.

From: Eloise Bridgerton No. 5, Bruton Street London

She remembered Eloise like it was yesterday. They spent some time together during their first season. She came as a package deal with Penelope Featherington. So when Marina had struck up a friendship with Penelope, Paige found herself spending a lot of time with the two of them. The four of them were quite the formidable group during that first season. Paige remembered how many suitors Marina had received. Unable to deal with her jealousy in a healthy manner, she did what she did best, ran away from her emotions. She poured herself into a friendship with Eloise. Somewhere along the way, she had developed feelings for the clever Bridgerton. She recalled how she did her best to repress those feelings. Even though at the time, Marina and her were nowhere close to courtship, Paige still felt like she was being unfaithful to her.

There was just something about Eloise that had drawn Paige to her.

She shook her head rather violently, as if trying to shake those memories away. How could she be thinking of that when she's supposed to be grieving Marina? She set down the letter, leaving it for Phillip to read it later when he finally comes out of hiding.

She stood up to head to Marina's room to mope. It almost seemed like she had taken Marina's place as the Romney Hall's living ghost. What was the point in living your life when the person you wanted to spend it with was gone?

But rising questions about Eloise's letter stopped her. For one, why was it addressed to Phillip rather than her? She knew it had been well over a decade, but had Eloise forgotten her already?

Her plan to mope for the day had been abandoned and she picked up Eloise's letter once again. She picked up the letter opener and impulsively ripped it open.

Sir Phillip Crane —

I am writing to express my condolences on the loss of your wife, my dear friend Marina, I remember her fondly and was deeply saddened to hear of her passing .

Please do not hesitate to write if there is anything I can do to ease your pain at this difficult time .

Yrs,

Miss Eloise Bridgerton

***

Oh. She was just as lovely as Paige remembered her. This was too kind of a letter to delay it's response. Paige went to her room and sat at her desk. She pulled out her stationary kit and fetched herself some parchment and a quill. She quickly penned down a response.

Dear Eloise —

I hope you remember me from your first season. Marina was a dear friend to me as well and I thank you for your kind note on behalf of Marina. It was thoughtful of you to write asking after us.

I offer you this flower attached as thanks. It is called an Eden rose also known as the Pierre de Ronsard, named after the great French poet.

Did you know that it reaches an average diameter of 10 centimetres. The large flowers are very full with 55 to 60 petals. Due to their weight the cupped, globular flowers tend to bow their heads.

It was Marina's favourite flower. She loved the carmine-pink on the inside and ivory on the outside. I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

Sincerely -

She stopped short before she signed it off with her name. She had finally stepped out of her moment of impulsivity. Insanity more like, she thought to herself. She felt awful for invading Eloise and - by extension - Phillip's privacy.

She couldn't send this! How was she going to explain it?

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

I am absolutely mad and stole my brother's mail because I used to fancy you when we first debuted together in our first season.

Yours Sincerely, Paige Crane

That would certainly go over well. She would be lucky not to be locked up. She stared at her original letter and ripped it up. She detested the thought of Phillip striking up a friendship with Eloise. Deep down she knew if he became as enamoured with her as she once was, he'd make her his wife. It might have only been a month but she knew her brother. He needed a mother and wife for the children. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was already planning to look for one.

He had already taken Marina from her. As twins, they grew up sharing everything, starting from the womb. Everywhere Paige went, Phillip was there. They even had parallel careers. She just wanted this one person to herself. It was selfish she knew but she wanted to keep her London past for herself. Even if it meant never letting Phillip see the letter and responding on her own.

She rewrote another note without a second thought:

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for your kind note on behalf of my wife. It was thoughtful of you to take the time to write to a gentleman you have never met. I offer you this full bloom flower as thanks.

It is called an Eden rose also known as the Pierre de Ronsard, named after the great French poet. Did you know that it reaches an average diameter of 10 centimetres. The large flowers are very full with 55 to 60 petals. Due to their weight the cupped, globular flowers tend to bow their heads.

It was Marina's favourite flower. She loved the carmine-pink on the inside and ivory on the outside. I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

When it came to signing off, she hesitated for a moment at her dishonesty. Then the anger of having lost most of her life and identity to Phillip came up. That was motivation enough for her to scribble the last line of the letter:

Sincerely, Sir Phillip Crane.

***

Letter Correspondence From March 1823 to March 1824 Between Paige Crane & Eloise Bridgerton

Dear Sir Phillip -

Thank you so very much for the charming flower. It was such a lovely surprise when it came attached to the envelope. And such a precious memento of dear Marina, as well .

I could not help but notice your facility with the flower's scientific name and seemed to be knowledgeable about its properties. Are you a botanist?

Yours, Miss Eloise Bridgerton

Eloise’s response had come quite quickly in a week. It was no easy feat hiding the letters from Phillip. He was the Lord of the house after all. Paige was lucky enough to have a friend in Miles. She had been the one to stop Phillip from being let go. She had named him her personal assistant instead. She coyly asked Miles for a favour and requested that all of Eloise’s letters be directed to her. He looked at her with utter confusion when she asked.

“Whatever are you up to, Miss Crane?”

“Miles, you know you can call me Paige. We are friends, aren’t we?” She had a mischievous shine in her eye that told him she was up to something.

“I suppose… that doesn’t answer my question, Paige.” He said her name pointedly. She chuckled at him, he was hilarious. She knew she made the right choice keeping him employed.

“Friends trust each other. I promise I will tell you everything down the line.” She shot him a look of promise. That fixed the issue of being found out was solved easily. All she had to do now was enjoy the correspondence.

She still had not been able to break her habit of crying herself to sleep in Marina’s room every night, but these letters took her mind off the grief momentarily. She couldn’t thank Eloise Bridgerton enough for that. She read back Eloise’s response and grinned. Eloise was as charming and eloquent as always. She was clever enough to pick out Paige's interest in plants just by her rambles. Paige also noticed how Eloise was clever enough to end her letter with a question. What a sneaky lady, now Paige had to reply. Not that she was complaining. She was rather happy to have revived this old connection.

She pulled out her stationary and penned her reply. She stuck close to the truth while using Phillip's qualifications. Just because she wasn't allowed a formal education at Cambridge didn't make her any less knowledgeable than her twin. She devoured his textbooks during his University days. She most likely would have beat him to an honours degree in Botany had the fairer sex been allowed to study in Universities.

She followed Eloise's lead and ended her letter with a question as well. She vaguely remembered Eloise’s interest in humanities but she wanted it confirmed from the lady herself.

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

Indeed I am a botanist, trained at Cambridge, although I am not currently connected with any university or scientific board. I maintain my own garden at Romney Hall, in my greenhouse. Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Yours , Sir Phillip Crane

The reply came another week later. She smiled at being correct in her assumption. They started going back and forth every week, until a year had passed.

Dear Sir Phillip —

Heavens, no, I have not the scientific mind, I'm afraid, although I do have a fair head for sums. My interests lie more in the humanities; you may have noticed that I enjoy penning letters .

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

My dear Miss Bridgerton —

Ah, but it is a sort of friendship, isn't it? I confess to a certain measure of isolation here in the country, and if one cannot have a smiling face across one's breakfast table, then one might at least have an amiable letter, don't you agree?

I have enclosed another flower and a book for you. This flower is Centaurea cyanus, more commonly known as the cornflower. They are a personal favourite of mine, especially for its vibrance in colour. They are actually grown as a weed in cornfields, hence where it derives its common name from. Quite beautiful for a weed, wouldn’t you agree?

As for the book, I would like to share a piece of my literary heart with you. You will find a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein in the package. I regard it as a brilliantly complex novel that tackles the existential questions of creating life in such an nuanced manner. I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

With great regard, Phillip Crane

Even though it was a friendly exchange of letters, Paige considered sharing her favourite flower and novel a way of elevating the friendship. They were a part of her identity. A part that she was willingly giving away to another to cherish and hold. It was a big step for her and that terrified her. She was scared of developing feelings for someone else. She could not bear to go through it again.

She knew no sane woman - despite being a child of Sappho - would give up the security of a husband and run off with another woman. Most of the sapphic women Paige knew were far too caught up in the social norms to ever step out of their comfort zone into a realm of possibilities of a free life with her. She knew she got lucky with Marina and that Phillip didn’t care enough for Marina to be bothered with their love affair. He also loved his sister enough to be happy with his wife, even if he didn’t understand how she could love a person who seemed to be made of sadness. Paige knew he never understood, but he didn’t have to. Marina and her understood each other and that’s all that truly mattered until the end.

While Eloise has never stated whether she felt that way about women, she did seem like a child of Sappho. The way she had interacted with potential suitors during that first season, or rather the way she didn’t. She hid away from every suitor that came her way. At times, she would pull Paige away to the lemonade table to avoid them, whenever Penelope was too busy dancing with Colin. The way she scoffed at marriage. She just seemed content in her independence. Paige had admired that about her.

As always her next letter did not disappoint:

Dear Sir Phillip —

Thank you for the book and flower, I truly appreciated them. I have always found sharing books recommendations with companions is like giving them a piece of yourself. So I thank you again, for gifting me a piece of yourself. I promise to cherish it.

And I have read Frankenstein before! It truly is one of its kind. I could go on for hours on end about how much I love this book and how brilliantly crafted it is. Perhaps, should we ever meet, we could discuss it over tea one day.

The cornflower was wonderful, thank you. I do love how it seems to shine a brighter blue in the sunlight. I think it might be my favourite flower as well.

Yours, Eloise Bridgerton.

A dreamy sigh escaped Paige’s lips as she drank in Eloise’s latest words. Paige had never felt more seen and understood. Eloise expressed the sentiment of Paige’s intent with the book and flower exactly. Paige might have used her brother’s name, but she knew in her heart Eloise knew her - even if it was not by her given name. She found the line about meeting and discussing the novel over tea, a rather bold choice. Was Eloise inviting her to tea?

She sighed when the sobering truth hit her. Eloise wasn’t inviting her. She was inviting her brother. She knew what she had to do - politely shut her down.

Dearest Miss Bridgerton —

You took the words right out of my quill. Those were my exact intentions when I thought of sending my favourite flower and book over to you. I am very much honoured that you cherish an important part of myself. I truly appreciate it. Truth be told, I appreciate you and our friendship.

Perhaps, one day. Tea does sound lovely.

What mischief have you been causing as of late? I am always excited to read your recounts of your daily adventures.

Yours as always, Phillip Crane. * Over the next few months simply flew by for Paige, the letters giving her a reprieve from her grief. They talked about anything and everything under the sun. She learned everything there is to know about Eloise Bridgerton. They exchanged childhood stories, more books between the two of them - Paige found out that Eloise’s guilty pleasure was Jane Austen’s romance novels - and held full conversations of various academic subjects. Her most prized possession was Eloise’s old copy of Persuasion filled with Eloise’s notes and thoughts on the book. Paige’s heart soared the moment she received it. It was Eloise’s version of giving Paige a piece of herself. She hadn’t read Persuasion before so she was glad for the recommendation. The botanist couldn’t help but laugh as she read the novel. Anne and Captain Wentworth’s story seemed to mirror hers. Their 7 year separation felt rather familiar to having not seen Eloise since their first season.

Before she knew it, a year had passed. She was startled when she saw the calendar on her desk when penning her latest letter to Eloise. 14th February 1824. It was the day Marina attempted to kill herself a year ago. Tomorrow would be a year since Marina’s last good day. And two days from now, on 17th February 1824, Paige would have to be met with the sobering reality of Marina’s death anniversary.

The holidays had been hard as it could be. The empty chair Marina had previously occupied was staring at Paige while her family carried on with their jovial Christmas dinner. She couldn’t understand how they could simply get on with their lives while she felt like a piece of her was missing. Yes, Marina was not much for festivities but sitting beside her and enjoying the food they cooked together was the highlight of Christmas. It was the only time Marina felt well enough to help Paige prepare the feast.

Marina’s birthday had been the hardest to deal with of course. She would have been twenty and eight then. Paige visits Marina's grave at least once a week. It calms and soothes her intense moments of grief. Sitting by the grave on Marina's birthday was a new kind of pain. Knowing that she was taken from the world far too early. Knowing that she should have been there right beside Paige. It was the hardest Paige had cried since Marina had died.

She had no idea how she was going to deal with her death anniversary.

She just knew she needed time to herself. She looked down at the letter she was going to write and found big splashes of tears all over the parchment.

"Blast it!" She cursed and crushed the paper, tossing it into a nearby bin. She was furious with herself for forgetting. For allowing herself to be happy when she didn’t deserve it. She wiped her tears angrily and quickly scribbled one last letter to Eloise.

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

These letters have brought me such comfort over a very difficult year. I cannot thank you enough for it, Eloise Bridgerton.

I do regret to inform you, I would like to pause these letters for the month. I require some time to process and mourn Marina's first death anniversary. I'm sure you can understand it will be a rather difficult time.

Thank you for understanding and do take care, Miss Bridgerton.

Yours, Phillip Crane

Paige could barely get through the letter without feeling guilty. Feeling guilty for abandoning Eloise so abruptly. Feeling guilty for using her as a distraction from her grief over Marina. Most of all, she hated how she can't seem to remember the smallest things about Marina. She was forgetting her love's memory and it was driving her mad. She tried her best to conjure up how she smelled, the sound of her voice, how she was. Paige found the little details escaping her. Memories slipping through her fingers. She detested this. She didn't know how she had gotten to this point.

She had allowed her corresponding flirtation with Eloise to soothe her pain. But her pain was the one thing she had left of Marina. Letting it go meant letting go of Marina. Paige absolutely refused to do that. If she forgot Marina, there was no one else to keep her memory alive. Phillip and the children certainly didn't care for it. Marina would be lost to history.

After delivering the letter to Miles to be mailed out, Paige found herself in Marina's room. She laid on her bed, aimlessly and feeling vacant. She was sure if someone walked in they might mistake her for Marina herself. Paige felt her melancholy creeping up her throat. It threatened to choke her, snuffing all the light out. She sat up and tried to breathe. She was feeling an unusual amount of panic rising within her.

She got out of bed and looked out the window. The lake was in perfect view. Of course, that’s where Marina had gotten the idea, She thought to herself bitterly. She looked up at the sky, imagining her lover was up there somewhere happier. Somewhere calmer, where she had found peace.

“I’m right where you left me, Rina.” She whispered softly. It had been a while since she spoke out loud to Marina but it had brought her so much comfort in the early days of dealing with the grief. For a moment, she could pretend Marina was still there. Then she didn’t have to deal with the all consuming guilt and loneliness that came with losing the love of her life.

Marina might have been the one who died but Paige felt like the ghost. Spending most of her days in Marina's room, sitting still in a corner, almost like she was the one haunting it. She heard what the staff said. Something along the lines of, "What a pitiful sight." And "She deserves better than to replace Lady Marina's disposition." They were valid in their concerns but Paige couldn't care less. This was the way she knew how to grieve and mourn and she'll be damned before she lets anyone dictate the way she feels.

Looking into the reflection of the lake from the window, she could still remember the day Marina walked into the lake. It was terrifying how crystal clear the memory was. It felt like she was frozen in time - forever cursed to be twenty and seven - forced to relive the last few days of Marina's days. The memory of her walking into the lake, Paige having to rescue her, staying by her side the next three days and the moment she died. They swirled around Paige's mind constantly. It was particularly worse since it had been a year.

She was paralysed, unable to find the will to do anything else. So she went back to bed. She sat there, silent and frozen in time. The servants walked past all day to ask her if she was alright. She barely managed a nod.

She swore she could hear a hair pin drop at how silent everything was. Deep down she knew her life stopped the moment Marina had died. Eloise's letters may have made her feel like she could move forward. However, the gaping hole in her heart today proved otherwise.

Everybody moved on. She couldn't. So she settled and stayed there, dust collecting on her pinned-up hair. She knew everyone expected her to find a new purpose or a fresh start. She could have tended to her own garden like Phillip was doing in his Greenhouse on this day.

Yet all she found the energy to do was sit and stare out at the lake. She stayed right there for the next two days. She just wanted the next worst few days of her life to pass her by so she would not have to deal with them. Just until the 17th had passed.

Of course as the saying goes, there is no rest for the wicked. All Paige wanted on the 17th of February was some peace but little did she know, a certain Bridgerton would be making their way to Romney Hall.

It started out like any other day. Except for the Crane household, there was a somber remembrance of Marina’s first death anniversary. Paige was relieved that she didn’t have to share the burden alone and that her brother had the decency to acknowledge it. He didn’t bother reminding the children but they were young so she let it slide.

Since the staff had honoured her request of being left alone, around noon Paige dragged herself out of bed to get herself some lunch. Marina would have wanted her to mourn respectfully, not join her up wherever she may be. Paige was on her way back to her room after picking up her meal of roasted mutton with rice and gravy - Marina’s favourite dish - when she overheard a curious conversation between Gunning and her brother.

"Sir Phillip," Gunning said, clearing his throat. "We have a caller." "A caller?" Phillip echoed. "Was that the source of the, ah..." "Noise?" Gunning supplied helpfully. "Yes." "No." The butler cleared his throat. "That would have been your children." "I see," Phillip murmured. "How silly of me to have hoped otherwise." "I don't believe they broke anything, sir." "That's a relief and a change." "Indeed, sir, but there is the caller to consider."

Phillip groaned and Paige immediately knew what he was thinking. Romney Hall hadn’t received callers in years. He was probably wondering who on earth would be calling on this day of all days. Paige didn’t think much of it until she passed the front door on her way up to her room when she spotted a familiar face on the other side of the door.

Eloise Bridgerton.

What in the devil was she doing here?! Paige mentally screamed to herself. Gunning and Phillip’s conversation had faded to the background, drowned out by the mental grind of Paige’s mind. She snapped out of her melancholy and had to come up with a way to cover up the consequences of her actions. Just when she needed it, Miles walked past her. She immediately grabbed him. He looked surprised and a little violated if you asked him.

“Miss Crane! What on earth?” “Miles, how many times must I repeat myself? Paige is perfectly fine. I apologise for grabbing you, I am in need of your service.” She said guiltily, looking over at the front door.

He gave her a curious look, “What did you do now, Paige?” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

She shot him a glare, “I would snap at you for that but you are quite right to ask. I think one of my letters to Miss Bridgerton might have been misinterpreted as an invitation to come over to Romney Hall.” She gave him such a pitiful pleading look, he had to help her.

“How can I be of service, Miss - Paige?” He corrected himself the moment Paige shot him a murderous look. “I need a plan. If the truth comes out, neither of them will forgive me.”

Miles had never seen her so panicked and scared before. For someone who detests her brother, she really did love him. Her blooming feelings for Miss Bridgerton had become apparent over the last few months. He gave himself a moment to think of a plan.

"Yes, sir. She's here to see you, after all." They both heard Gunning say to Phillip.

Paige looked at Miles with wide eyes. They had officially run out of time. This was sealed by the sounds of Phillip’s footsteps making their way to the corridor Paige and Miles were hatching a plan in. Before Paige could push Miles to distract him, her dear brother had brushed past them and opened the door. She cursed to herself and watched helplessly as the two strangers who had technically never met interacted. She made her way to stand quietly behind her brother, listening to every word. Paige's heart nearly stopped when she heard Eloise's voice after all these years.

"Sir Phillip?"

#Bridgerton #TSPWL Rewrite #Bridgerton AU #Bridgerton fanfiction #OC: Paige Crane #Marina Thompson #Eloise Bridgerton #Paige Crane #Phillip Crane #TW Grief #TW Mention of Death #TW Mention of Suicide Attempt #TW Depression #TW Anxiety #Spotify

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

Prison Cell, chapter 1

Well, this one took on a life of its own. I intended to write a simple one-off taking place in an AU where the studio became the sketch dimension before most of the sacrifices were made. Turns out that this is going to take longer than that. While this AU will have an emphasis on horror, especially in the later chapters, I also want to show the resilience of some of these characters.

---

Joey Drew Studios was once an animation studio. Functionally, it still was. But before everyone’s eyes, it had become Hell.

The machine had been hard to ignore, but easy not to look into. No one seemed to know what it did save for a few, but no one was about to quit over it during the Great Depression.

The cult behaviour, in retrospect, had been the first sign. It isn’t everywhere that your boss demands an item from your workplace as a sacrifice to the Gods. But back then, it had seemed nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Pedestals had been set up in the break rooms. Sometimes your coworkers would go there to pray. It was strange. But again, not worth looking into, and not worth quitting over.

Joey had always been eccentric. Joey had always been unreasonable. Joey had always had an angry streak. If any of that was getting worse, it was getting worse at a fairly slow rate.

All of it happened so slowly. Until it happened all at once. The machine malfunctioned. It went into overdrive. Gent workers had rushed to quiet it. They turned off its power supply, and nothing happened. In desperation, they broke the pipes that had once fed it ink, and nothing happened. Finally, they frantically tried to dismantle it as it spewed ink, and... nothing happened. Even the strongest of men could not so much as loosen a bolt from the machine.

Then, something happened. An rapidly-growing area surrounding the machine lost its colour and detail- reduced to lines on a page.

In a last-ditch attempt to fix the machine, Joey and the closest members of his inner circle entered the ink machine room. No one knew what had happened. To outsiders, it had sounded like the ink machine had exploded. No one who had been in the room at the time emerged except for Sammy Lawrence, who came out limping and covered head-to-toe in ink.

From that point on, no one could leave. Doors to the outside were locked, and windows showed only black void. Sammy talked to many people in private in the coming days, and firm lines were drawn between those who were loyal to the cult, and those who weren’t- those who were donning masks and uniform. Those who were loyal left the studio occasionally- for meetings or to pick up supplies. Those who were not loyal had no way of knowing how they did.

Joey Drew still existed. Early on, there were rumours that he was dead and that his loyalists were merely following him in spirit, but before long, most people knew someone who had seen his new form.

Work remained much the same, albeit with a few fewer people, who had either not been in the studio that day, or whose primary duty was now distribution and getting supplies because they were some of the only people allowed outside. Everyone fulfilled their role. Gent workers maintained the machine. The others made cartoons, which, apparently, were still making it out to the outside world somehow. They ate. They slept. They mourned their losses. They formed small groups and tried to keep hope. A few small insurrections began, but but quickly ended in violence and were abandoned. With no access to medical professionals, no one wanted violence.

While no one in the studio had it easy, Susie Campbell held an additional secret. Every few days in the dead of night, a creature would come to her- a creature with a mask and curling, demonic horns made of ink. She’d wake up to the horrible creature sitting on her chest so she couldn’t move, and it would put a syringe in her neck and draw blood. This went on for weeks. Locking the door didn’t stop it. Eventually, it made her want to sleep as little as possible, and she began to wander the halls at night, oftentimes falling asleep in random places.

One night, after falling asleep in a hallway in the music department, she was roused by Norman Polk.

“Hey. Come with me tonight,” he whispered, helping her up. “That thing’s been stealing your blood, hasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Susie whispered back.

“I know someone else in that situation. But don’t worry- it doesn’t bother him anymore, either.”

Norman led Susie into one of the offices. Two cots had been set up, and one already had a person sleeping in it. “You settle in. I’ll go and look for another cot to bring in here. If the demon wants your blood, it’ll have to go through me.”

“Thank you,” Susie said. She wanted to say more, but didn’t know what to say. She was fast asleep before Norman returned.

Before the transformation of the studio, it would have been strange to see the two of them together, but times had changed. The big, strange, sneaky cryptid had gone from someone you avoided to someone you wanted on your side. And yet, on a social level Norman still mostly left the music room to themselves most days- he preferred to eavesdrop or hang out with the people who’d accepted him before all of this.

That changed after he started sharing a room with Susie, though. She started inviting him to talk with her and Wally, or any of her other friends in the music room, and he’d agree to it, mostly because he wanted to spend time with her. Eventually it became well-known what he was doing for his ‘guests.’

It continued like that for a few weeks. The creature found other victims before it found her. Then, one night, it slipped into the room, and it did not like what it saw. Two of its previous victims, including Susie Campbell. Susie was tucked into Norman’s arms. She opened her eyes for a moment, saw him, and went back to sleep. She felt safe and protected, and it made the demon’s blood boil. Blood wasn’t worth being clobbered for- not while he could get it elsewhere. But something had to be done.

The night after, Thomas Connor and two men nearly as strong as he was, each wearing loyalist uniforms and masks, entered the room. They pulled Norman out of bed, handcuffed and gagged him, and began to lead him away. Susie woke up to the feeling of him being pulled off of her.

For a moment, she was stunned. The next, she was yelling for help. The man in the other bed woke up as well. Susie had never gotten to know her “roommate,” but that didn’t matter now. “Come with me,” she said. “We need to wake people up!”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see. Just trust me!” Susie had thought this day might come for quite some time, and she’d planned for it.

And so, the two followed the loyalists down the hall, banging on the doors and yelling to try and wake people up. Susie cursed herself for not finding out where people had been holing up. Her partner eventually found Emma Lamonte. Finally, one of the doors opened- it was Henry Stein- another person who could fight decently enough. “Henry, you’ve got to help. They’re taking Norman away. Hurry!”

Henry looked over to see it happening, and hesitated.

“Henry, if they get him on that elevator, we’ll never see him again!” Henry jolted into action, and soon he and Emma were in close range of the three loyalists.

It ended about as quickly. Emma managed to mule-kick one of the men in the stomach and knock the wind out of him before another one of the men snuck up behind her and began to choke her. Thomas was still holding Norman Polk as he squirmed in attempt to escape. Henry attempted to punch out the man strangling Emma, and he managed a few blows, but the man she’d kicked recovered and restrained Henry until Emma was unconscious. Once she was unconscious, her attacker rejoined Thomas, and they dragged Norman to the elevator. Before morning, Emma had been taken, too. Henry had run.

---

“I should have gotten in there,” Susie’s roommate said, breaking a long, tearful silence between them.

“You couldn’t have done anything. Those men were twice your size.” It hadn’t been as though they hadn’t spent the duration of the fight banging on doors in hopes of finding allies.

“I know.”

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around the music department.”

“Grant Cohen. Finances.”

“Oh. Norman’s talked about you. Well, I’m glad you’re from another department. Tomorrow, I’m going to try and get as many people together as possible- a rescue party, I guess. You could help. Tell everyone in your department to meet in the recording theatre after hours.”

Grant laughed bitterly. “Sure. I’ll gather all the bravest souls in accounting and finance.” There was a pause. “Don’t you get it? We’re helpless. People haven’t been forming big groups because when they do, things like this happen. And anyhow, I’d bet anything that Norman is dead already.”

A part of Susie agreed. But that wasn’t the useful part of her right now. “Look, I’m not going to try and convince you. But personally, I don’t like feeling helpless just because I can’t knock out Thomas Connor.”

---

The following evening, Susie had gathered quite a number of people. Henry’s friends had come, terrified that he was essentially a wanted man and that he had to be hidden from loyalists. Grant had showed up with a few others from accounting that had agreed to come along. And of course, the music department had all noticed Norman’s absence.

Susie began the meeting by telling the story of what had happened to Norman. Surprisingly, what followed was a number of other people coming out about various grievances. A few others had had the same experience as Susie, of having their blood harvested. There were also a few from other departments who had refused to work and had been punished by having one of their bones broken in the night. Wally complained about having to mop up blood.

“We need to handle all of that, too. But first can we talk about Norman?” Susie said, trying to regain control of the meeting.

“If he got onto the elevator, he’s probably dead,” Abby said, as gently as she could. “Or at least, he’s on one of their levels. There’s no way we can go down there and rescue him. But, since you’ve brought us all together, we might as well get organized. Maybe there’s a way for us to defend each other. And figure out who will be running the projector from now on.”

A knock at the door sounded, and everyone in the room went perfectly still.

“Do we open it?” Susie asked.

It seemed entirely ridiculous that the loyalists would try to get in by politely knocking.

“If they’re right outside this door, this meeting is over anyhow, and we can’t stay in here forever,” Abby reasoned.

On the other side of the door was Sammy Lawrence, holding a cardboard box. He was wearing the uniform of the loyalists, but thankfully he was alone. “I am not your enemy. I come bearing gifts,” he said.

Abby carefully opened the box, as though she were disarming a bomb. Inside were a few loyalist uniforms and masks of different sizes. She inspected them carefully and found nothing suspicious about them.

“Why?” Abby asked.

“Joey is working on a way out for all of us. None of us are getting out without his help. That is why I’m a loyalist. But, evermore since the machine cursed us, he’s been… worsening. I still have hope that he will get us out of here, but until then, you need to stand up for yourselves. Consider these a tool- they could let you visit the lower levels. But I beg of you- don’t interfere with loyalist work. Loyalist work is what allows some of us to visit the outside, and us going to the outside is what keeps you fed. Remember that.”

Abby nodded. “Thank you. This is very… courageous of you, Mr. Lawrence. But we’re still going to escort you to the elevator now. We can’t risk that this is just you trying to spy on us.”

Sammy did not resist as Henry and Jack escorted him to the elevator, and he left for the lower floors without issue.

“Well," Abby said, “I guess we have a way of finding out what happened to him after all.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #susie campbell #norman polk #abby lambert #sammy lawrence #joey drew #my fanfiction #Aus #Story: prison cell

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tthael · 3 years

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If you're still doing the DVD commentary thing, I'm curious about your thought process behind the whole discussion they have in the car at the end of chapter 11, when Richie asks Eddie why he thinks It targeted them specifically.

Oh boy, this answer’s a bit depressing.

See, I’ve gotten a lot of responses talking about how much they love Went and Maggie in Indelicate. And while they are fun--and a lot of their dynamic is influenced by my own parents and grandparents, and I decided to write their behavior as sort of blueprints for Richie and his behavior towards Eddie--Richie is more upset than he lets on about their conversation about Henry Bowers and his childhood.

So in Chapter 10, I have Richie sort of pick a fight with his parents. Eddie gives him an opening, and Richie immediately seizes onto the topic of Henry Bowers and his childhood bullying, because he wants to confront his parents. About their choice to live in Derry? Maybe. About their failure to respond appropriately to some very violent childhood bullying? Definitely. Richie brings up the incident from the book where Bowers wipes out in front of their class and Richie automatically and without thinking goes, “Hey, Bananaheels!” and Bowers chases Richie all the way through Freese’s department store with his cronies, intending to beat him. Because movie!Richie wears the Freese’s shirt, I decided to keep that incident.

And Went’s immediate response to Richie’s story of “Remember when I was in great fear of physical violence and very real fear for my safety?” is to ask, “Well, what did you do to make him angry?”

I don’t know if you’ve read Things That Happen After Beverly Leaves, but in that fic I have Bev and Richie have a conversation about Tom Rogan and a specific incident of violence that happens during the fic, during which Bev asserts that it was her fault that he went after her because she was antagonizing him. And Richie’s response is something to the effect of, “Oh, really? Does everyone have that threshold? What do you have to say to me before I decide to beat you, then?” Because it’s bullshit and victim blaming, and everyone has a choice of whether or not to commit violence, especially in positions of power. (Even when the violence is committed in self-defense, there’s always the choice to--not defend yourself, and to accept those consequences. In this instance, I’m not describing “violence” as an umbrella “this is always bad” sort of thing; but I do think that it’s always bad when enacted on someone else for the purpose of harming them, especially from a position of power to someone weaker.)

Like many readers of IT by Stephen King, I was horrified by the blasé approach that most of the adults have to the childhood bullying portrayed in the book. I know that King experienced bullying as a child--probably part of why he writes it so elaborately and brutally; and I know that one of It’s influences is that It exaggerates the negative and harmful tendencies of all of Derry’s residents, including bullies like Henry Bowers (even before It interferes with him directly), Alvin Marsh and Sonia Kaspbrak (whose “protective” and abusive natures become exaggerated and inhuman), and adults who turn blind eyes to the violence happening in front of them (the older couple who saw Bowers cutting Ben and drove on, bystanders who saw Alvin Marsh chasing Bev through the street and did nothing, a shopkeeper who tried to intervene in an act of bullying and allowed Bowers and his gang to run him off instead of rescuing the Loser in question, though I’m afraid I don’t remember the specifics).

In this case, I decided that the Toziers didn’t respond appropriately to defend their son. You can decide whether that was because of Derry and It or because of their parenting style. But in this case I decided to have Wentworth demand that Richie take responsibility for his victimization. And Richie gives a sort of Stepford smile when he admits to provoking Bowers; and Wentworth’s response is “You’re very smart, but you kept being stupid and getting into fights.”

If you read the Bananaheels scene from IT, we see that Richie has literally no brain-to-mouth filter. The very second the words are out of his mouth, he wants to kick himself, but he knows Bowers will do it for him. I also write Richie as having untreated ADHD, especially as a child, and his failure to consider cause and effect here is influenced by my own brother. He literally could not consider the consequences of his temper tantrums when he was a child, because there was no reflection or consideration of cause and effect for him. Many child psychologists, psychiatrists, and therapists attested to this. Because this is a real person and someone I have great affection for, I’m not interested in breaking down whether that’s an element of being a child (it was not in my experience) or an element of having untreated ADHD (again, it was not in my experience, as I suffered crippling overthink and decision paralysis at the other end of the spectrum). But I did decide to let that influence Richie.

Eddie is very uncomfortable with Richie’s parents’ lack of sympathy, especially because he shared the experience with Richie; but he’s also uncomfortable with parents in general and very aware that he’s in the Toziers’ space and doesn’t feel he has standing towards them. Richie gets more defensive, Stepford smiling, and recounts other stories of Bowers’ gang harassing the Losers, getting crueler and more flippant both with himself and with his friends (he casually insults Ben), and culminates in the story of Bowers cutting Ben for the crime of not allowing him to cheat off him in school, something that Richie is sure the Toziers cannot claim was the wrong thing to do, the way they suggested that Richie’s actions were the wrong thing to do.

Only then does Wentworth remember that the childhood bully Richie mentioned was actually arrested and imprisoned for fratricide. This is something that even the fog of Derry’s memory loss didn’t take away from him completely, and Richie discussing it brings it back up. And Richie gleefully confirms that yes, that is the Henry Bowers he meant, and actually he tried to lynch Mike and successfully stabbed Eddie in the face, two actions that the Toziers cannot dismiss as provoked. Then the Toziers get distracted by dentistry and Richie coldly and excellently lies to his parents’ faces not just about Bowers’ whereabouts but about the fact that he killed them.

So Richie’s topic of conversation when he and Eddie leave is “Why do you think It went after us?” because he’s still trying to deal with the victim blaming his father expressed and what he actually means is “What do you think I did that made this happen to me?” Then Richie talks about his parents’ choice not to have any children after him, and makes a joke that’s actually completely serious about being such an annoying child that his parents decided they didn’t want any more, even at the potential of his mother’s longed-for daughter, because (in Richie’s mind) the risk of a second Richie was too great. And Richie jokes about his own death, and admits to Eddie that he was very lonely, because Richie is still very lonely right now.

And Eddie says that he’s not lonely and he never felt lonely, and Richie hears “I wasn’t lonely because I had you,” and that’s what he really needs to hear right then. It’s not a love confession (a love confession would be too good to be true), but Richie thinks it’s as good as he’s going to get, so he eats it up.

Even Eddie’s thoughts are about victim blaming, which comes down to an argument that I read on tumblr some years ago: that “she shouldn’t have dressed like that, she shouldn’t have gone off by herself” means “rape the other girl, the one who did all the wrong things,” the one that means violence as punishment. Eddie thinks that victim blaming in this case means that It should have killed and eaten the other kid, which is of course wrong, because It had to be stopped for its monstrosity, not because it was an ineffective deterrent or punishment.

So Eddie pushes Richie in the other direction--he says that what made a difference was not that the Losers ran around without supervision, but that they loved each other enough to risk their lives trying to save each other. Even Richie, in his magnanimous cruelty after speechifying and leaving Bill on the hook, chose to kill the fucking clown rather than abandon Bill, rather than leave It to eat the other kid. And when Richie says “Good for us,” about the Losers being willing to die for each other, he gets grim because Eddie is still like that, trying to die for him; and Richie can forgive himself for trying to die to save the others, but he doesn’t know if he can forgive Eddie for actually dying to save him yet.

That was a long one, but I’m planning on digging back into Maggie and Went in Indelicate again and it’s good practice for me to analyze the choices I made months ago. So thank you for asking! And for reading, of course.

#my fic #indelicate spoilers #now what i'm gonna say may sound indelicate #nwigsmsi #indelicate #rape mention #victim blaming #child abuse mention

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badgalmorgan · 3 years

Text

Tw: r*pe, s*x**l assault

On the 24 of September 2021 I was raped by someone I knew at a house party. I reported my rape on the 26 of September and it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Not only was I exposed to my rapist again but it showed me how little support victims actually have, especially in this climate.

At around 11:15 we got to a house party in the old house I used to live at. I had had a dispute with my rapist the year before but I had come to make peace and let bygones be bygones (not to apologise). I had been out with my friend and we only drank what we had purchased which was wine and a little vodka. I was still sober when we got to the house and I didn’t think anything would go wrong since I had lived there before. My rapist insisted me and friend come to his room to talk about the incident and then when we were inside his room my friend went to use his in suite bathroom. I sat down on his bed and placed my drink next to me. I was done drinking for the night. My friend came out of the bathroom and asked if I was ok and I said yes, he then insisted she leave. After she left he locked the door behind her and I remember closing my eyes and laying back down.

When I opened my eyes he was on top of me, penetrating me and it hurt. I remember saying “no no” and trying to close my legs and get up and he pushed me back down. I finally managed to get up from under him and stumbled to his bathroom where he followed me with his pants and underwear hanging low, at this point I was throwing up and then he forced me to give him oral sex. He only stopped once my friend and two other guys began banging on his door. I was disoriented once the door was open and there are parts I can’t remember. My friend said my hair was messed up and she tried to fix it. She asked me if I wanted to leave and I was still shocked and so I said no. I went to sit outside with a couple of her friends and I was silent the whole time ( my friend was narrating this since I can’t remember what happened after I left his room). I asked for water and when my friend went to look for water she didn’t find any, I then asked if we could go home. When I got to the door I began to throw up I then tried to run and I slipped and fell in my own vomit. I attempted to get up again but I couldn’t and someone tried to help me up. I tried to run again. Finally my friend and someone she knew helped us get home. At home I can’t remember what happened since everything was a blur but I remember waking up at 1:00am before finally waking up at 4:00 am and crying because I realised what he did to me.

The next day I got a morning after pill, and I tried to get the PEP but they said they didn’t store it. I then booked an appointment with my doctor and at his office I tried to get a rape kit done but he abruptly told me they don’t do that and indicated that I should leave. He also asked if the rape was ‘confirmed.’ At this point I hadn’t showered because I knew that’s what you’re not supposed to do. After the appointment with the doctor I felt so demotivated and shitty about myself, I decided to go home and finally take a bath. The next day I told my friend what had happened and we decided to go to the town hospital to get the PEP. At the hospital the nurse insisted I get a rape kit done for “my peace of mind” and what if I regretted not doing it? She kept emphasising it was the the right thing to do and so I felt that I should. I didn’t want to because I could anticipate the fall out. At the police station in order for me to get a rape kit done I had make a statement and there the police officer insisted I press charges. Again she also said this was the ‘right thing’ to do and what about preventing him from doing this to other girls? I felt I should open a case even though I didn’t want to. At this point I felt as if everything was out of my hands. I opened case and was finally able to do a rape kit and just get my PEP pills.

The rape kit was such a horrible and painful ordeal. It was so dehumanising and the victim support the police sent with me did not do anything but text on his phone the entire time and discuss his own personal problems. After all that, the victim support not only watched them mishandle my clothes that were my evidence but he gave me a thumbs up and said “you’re gonna be alright girl”. After all this I finally got the PEP pills that I had wanted and set home. At home I was phoned by a woman claiming to be the investigating officer. She said she was going to meet me and my friend outside our flat to get my friend’s statement. Instead of doing the statement outside our flat she began to drive to house of the attack and said we had to be there to show her where it happened even though I already gave her the address. She then demanded we come inside to the house and wait for my rapist to return so she could tell him I was pressing charges. I later found out this was not proper procedure and instead my rights were violated. At the house she made the call to my rapist and when him and friends arrived, in front of everyone she announced I was pressing charges of rape against him. Him and friends began to harass us and she allowed him to get in my face ( I later asked why she did this and she replied “But you were protected mos?”). The investigating officer took 2 grainy photos after the entire ordeal and only then we could leave. The police officer woman who brought us to house instead stayed behind and offered them to come to her office if they wanted the next morning. In the car she refused to speak to my therapist as I began having an anxiety attack. She then turned to my friend and said she hopes we’re telling the truth because I have ruined his “career”. She drove us home and then I left the car because I couldn’t stand to be in her presence any longer. Alone in the car with my friend she insisted that my friend tell the truth of what really happened that night. Later that night I phoned a rape crisis Center and was told that the police were not meant to take me to my attacker’s house and that it had been a violation of my rights.

The following day while I was at the doctor’s office getting a prescription for anti-anxiety and depression and sleep meds, the same police officer called me and said because my J88 form came back negative nothing happened and I was not raped. She insisted that because the form was negative I was not raped even though I reported a day later and had already showered. She then demanded to know if I would drop the case despite being opened a day before. I replied that I wanted more time and she said no, I had to be at her office by 12 that afternoon to drop the case. I later went to her office where I found my attacker and his numerous friends outside her office. Inside her office she berated my friend, demanding to see what my friend was texting on her phone and when she asked me as to why I wanted to drop the case I told her because I don’t feel supported. She then patronisingly asked what support would I like? She then asked if I was on any psychiatric medication. At this point I didn’t want to deal with all of this anymore so I just asked to drop the case. On our drive back to my flat, she told me to stay away from those boys cause they are bad news and to call her if I ever felt unsafe(??).

After contacting my school’s sexual harassment Center I was told that from the word go, no proper procedure and protocol was followed in my rape case. I was re-victimised by being made to talk to my rapist and accuse I’m in front of people. The relevant people were not notified despite telling them I was a student at this University. The investigating officer began calling me to threaten my friend to stay away from this case. I was pressured by the police to drop my case. My clothes were mishandled at the hospital and victim support didn’t utter two words to me except a thumbs up and a you’ll be alright girl. To make matters worse my mother only focuses on the fact that I can’t drop out of school and can only focus finishing the school year despite being extremely traumatised. When I tried to vocalise this to her, her response was that I shouldn’t dare be rude to her. She then lied about my father seeing a video of me being drunk in order for me to tell him what happened, knowing he’s ignorant and victim blames.

All in all, this entire experience has been so traumatic for me. I literally feel suicidal and alone. The systems meant to support me have not done so and instead threatened and demonised me. My mother has decided to take toxic positivity mindset and insisted that if I focus on my schoolwork everything will make sense. I don’t know who’s this gonna reach, I just wanted to get my story out and say what happened to me and why I would not report my sexual assault.

When I do inevitably end up killing myself, I don’t want the same support system to cry and try make it seem as if I didn’t ask for help because I did and I was failed at every turn.

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