ANNE WITH AN E (2017-2019) 3.10, ‘The Better Feeling of My Heart’
Today's Document
i don't do bad sauce passes
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Sweet Seals For You, Always

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ANNE WITH AN E (2017-2019) 3.10, ‘The Better Feeling of My Heart’
“What,” Granger says, her voice ringing out from the doorway, crisp and curt and mostly, understandably incredulous. “Are you doing?” A splintering crack rifles through the air, and chunks of mealy gray stone—from one of the medieval gargoyle statues, decorative, ostentatious, positively seeped in centuries of Slytherin scheming—fall to the ground. “Exactly?”
Draco flicks his wand, sending another spray of sulky, rust-orange sparks blasting towards the wall. “I’m busy,” he says, no, he mimics, gratingly petulant, even to his own ears. “Go away. This is none of your business.”
Granger looks around at the mess, biting her lip, teeth really digging in. Leaving a mark. The buttons on her blouse are all done up tonight, right up to her throat. She’s the only girl he’s ever seen do that, ever seen make the effort to do that, and there’s something so despicably, dumbfoundingly virginal about it—about the contrast, the contradictions—about her ink-stained fingertips rubbing at her starched white collar, about her carelessly rumpled cardigan sleeves laid out on top of her neatly pleated skirt. She tries so hard, still, still, to be careful and reasonable and kind and obliging, and she’s not. She isn’t. She’s never been.
Not truly.
[ read on ao3 ]
if someone tells you not to show or tell them something upsetting because they don't want awful images in their head, you need to respect that. do not tell them they're being dramatic or that they can handle it and just need to grow up. it is self preservation and forcing them to hear or see something they really don't want to witness can be really traumatic. respect boundaries. I don't know why this even has to be said.
fear, trauma, and the human threat response are fascinating to me. my brain is a survival machine perfected by nature, processing and filing away each bad and harmful experience like the world’s most meticulous archivist, cobbling together connections with stimuli to make complex decisions about when to slam the sympathetic nervous system response. it’s cross-referencing my surroundings with the library of Bad Things as we speak, allocating every resource in my body according to anticipated importance in a survival situation. It’s making all the decisions about when I need to be afraid enough to run, when I need to be angry enough to fight the threat with my bare fists.
when my hands feel cold during a panic attack, that’s my body shunting blood flow to my internal organs, turning me from a precise and intelligent creature with articulate fingers to the blunt-force, brutal beast I need to be to fight an attacker. When I feel so sick I’m about to puke, that’s my body getting me ready to run.
My nervous system can rewrite itself to keep me safe. It will change my sleep patterns to light and intermittent and make me notice where the exits are in an enclosed space. My brain is capable of concealing memories from me if I’m not ready to process them. The human mind is capable of dividing itself into multiple parallel and coexisting identities with different memories and different behaviors to protect the person.
The undeniable thing is that your body and brain love you, love you so much that they will do anything, anything, anything to make you survive. They love you even when you don’t love you. If they didn’t love you, you couldn’t feel afraid. There will always be a part of you that loves you. It might be rage and shaking and throwing up in the bathroom but you can feel yourself fighting to live even if you’ve given up and something about that is just the most amazing and fucked up and beautiful thing in the world.
The other undeniable thing is that your body and brain are endearingly, infuriatingly stupid, and they’re in control of a lot of what your organs are doing, and this is a little frustrating. They were trained on a dataset that is about 10,000 years out of date, mainly featuring things like “tigers” and “lightning strikes.” And they are so, so bad at identifying meaningful correlations. Their main response protocols are “Fight” or “Flight,” because they were developed in a time when that just about covered everything.
Now most threats have very low fightability, but the procedures haven’t been updated. When your knowledge of Threatening Things was refined through millions of years of lions, a doctor’s appointment gets categorized as LION- OTHER. This facility was DESIGNED to process lions. So Lion protocol it is.
There’s no manual override to the sympathetic nervous system response in most cases either. If you go to your brain like “hey why are you preparing me to fight lions, that’s not a lion” they’ll be like “hey ma’am, we’ve been at this a long time, trust me, we don’t need you to tell us how to do our job.”
So you sit in the waiting room of your doctor’s appointment with your limbs trembling with adrenaline because your brain is just trying to do its damn job and protect you from threats, which, to the best of its knowledge, can mostly be punched or run away from. Your body and brain love you, and they are so stupid, so very stupid.
There was going to be a point to this.
it’s okay if all you did today was get through it. that is ‘productive’ enough
I don’t know who needs to hear this, but falling back into your unhealthy coping skills during uncertain times is not going to benefit you. I know that the temptation to feed into it can be intense, but you are much stronger than that and deserve to live a healthier life. Continue on your path of recovery, it is so worth it.
Sometimes you just need to accept that you did what you had to do to survive and forgive yourself for it.
It’s okay if you thought you were over it but it hits you all over again.
It’s okay to fall apart even after you thought you had it under control.
You are not weak. Healing is messy. And there is no timeline for healing.
As it was requested by quite a few people, I made a Venn Diagram showing the overlapping symptoms of ADHD and PTSD. I really hope this helps!
Can I interest you in a Gàidhlig Sea Shanty?
is it time for frank cho and milo manara to die or what
That’s basically a naked woman I’m YELLING
What a pervert. What the FUCK does he not know how clothes work? What the hypothetical fuck is she wearing then if we can see all that?
It’s like how bath towels in comics miraculously wrap completely around breasts. Or how even when injured and dead on the ground women in comics have to be twisted into “sexy” poses. Or how women in comics walk like they’re in high heels even barefoot.
It’s the only way men know how to draw women, because to them female characters are only there to be sexy. They only think of “women” as exploitative costumes and camera angles, high heels and titillation. Sex objects to ogle, plot objects to further male heroes’ narratives and drama, not heroes to cheer for.
I’m sorry, I was labouring under the impression that this was the crowd that thought women should wear what they want..?
And that applies to fictional women who are depicted by men how? You can’t apply agency in the plot to something metatextual when it comes to fictional characters.
Come on, let’s not pretend this is a male exclusive thing.
We’re going to have this argument are we? Not to mention you’re deviating from the original point that attributing agency to fictional characters’ clothing is asinine.
What you have here are images of power, and do you really believe these characters are designed with titillating heterosexual women and bisexual and homosexual men in mind? Because I don’t think you do.
This is why the Hawkeye Initiative exists. Take common female poses in comics, put a man in the role, and see how “empowering” and “strong” it actually looks:
Also:
He got the painting for fighting against ‘censorship.’ Note that they handed him a gross design of a female being objectified, because at the end of the day, that is all they really want, to be allowed to objectify women. They don’t care about censorship in general it is about their ability to sexualise and degrade women without consequence.
You can see her butthole for chrissakes
I think the best imagery I’ve seen to explain the difference between what men think male objectification is vs what women actually want to see is the Hugh Jackman magazine covers.
Hugh Jackman on a men’s magazine. He’s shirtless and buff and angry. He’s imposing and aggressive. This is a male power fantasy, it’s what men want to be and aspire to - intense masculinity.
Hugh Jackman on a women’s magazine. He looks like a dad. He looks like he’s going to bake me a quiche and sit and watch Game of Thrones with me. He looks like he gives really good hugs.
Men think women want big hulking naked men in loin cloths which is why they always quote He-Man as male objectification - without realizing that He Man is naked and buff in a loin cloth because MEN WANT HIM TO BE. More women would be happy to see him in a pink apron cutting vegetables and singing off-key to 70s rock.
Men want objects. Women want PEOPLE.
This is the first time I have EVER seen this false equivalence articulated so well. Thank you.
More to the point, He-Man is a perfect example of how much men hate it when their fantasy masculine man is softened for mass appeal to women as well - the creators of He-Man actively hated how “”“sissy”“” He-Man became in the cartoon when he wasn’t all buffed up for a fight. That crushed their power fantasy and they hated it, they hated the idea that a softer, kinder He-Man would be more appealing to audiences, or that he would exist at all.
fuck it. be creative even if you never really *make* anything. write out plot synopses of stories and then move on. design OCs you'll never use. make mood boards and concept art and don't do anything with them. life's too short to forget everything that inspired you and creation doesn't have to be "complete" to be worth the time you put into it.
If the Government Treated Men Like It Treats Women
👏🏻This👏🏻though!👏🏻
And some men do not understand the point and the message and leave comments like that the condoms and contraceptives are not the same, therefore no sexism.
At Target this lady told her son he couldn’t have a Wonder Woman doll because “that’s for girls” and then bought her daughter the same one. It got me thinking about how often I see people bar young boys from appreciating girls/women as protagonists and heroes, and my own experience with it as a kid.
SPREAD IT AROUND
I remember seeing them perform this live on my campus.. My jaw dropped within 10 seconds.
Captions for this video below since they talk really fast and can be hard to understand! I struggled myself a bit, so let me know if I messed up on anything!
A black man and a white woman take the stage together to perform a slam poem.
Both speak together in unison for the first few words, before the black man begins feigning shock, as though he suddenly lost the ability to speak, though he continues mouthing along as she speaks. The poem begins:
“The first day I realized I was black. It was 2000. We had just learned about blacks for the first time in second grade. At recess, all the white kids chased me into the woods, chanting ‘slave.’ My mother said I refused to come out for three hours. She said she thinks I was lost in the trees, but I just needed to be closer to my roots.”
Both begin speaking in unison for a few words again, before this time, the white woman feigns loss of speech, but continues mouthing along just as the black man did before. He continues speaking:
“As a woman, having a boyfriend is a battle. If 70% of us are abused in a lifetime, what is the number of men doing it? The answer is not one man, running faster than light to complete a mission, and that is what leaves me sick.”
Again, the white woman begins speaking as the black man mouths along.
“The second day I realized I was black was in a gas station. I only had twenty five cents, so I searched for what to spend it on. The cashier floated from isle to isle, eyes fixed on my hands.”
The black man begins speaking again, and they continue in unison.
“That was the first time I realized skin color was a crime.”
Now the black man continues speaking as the white woman mouths along with him again.
“My body has become cause to write legislation. Cause for ass smacks in the back of a class. My body has demanded everything except respect. I’ve been asked, ‘what makes you feel unsafe?’ And I struggle not to yell ‘everything!’”
They switch again, so the white woman is now speaking as the black man mouths along.
“The third time I realized I was black was in an all white cafeteria. I gathered my legs under me, made rockets of my feet, and approached a girl. She told me she was not into ‘my type of guy.’ I felt the words shoot daggers into my melanin. I have never wanted to disappear so bad.”
They switch so the black man is speaking and the white woman is mouthing along.
“As a woman, I’ve learned to answer to everything except my name. ‘Little lady’ is not said to mean ‘equal,’ but to make sure I remember my place. I battle between wanting to own my body, and accepting there is a one-in-four chance a man will lay claim to my skin, a plot of land for the taking.”
Now the white woman speaks as the black man mouths along.
“The last day I realized I was black was in an elevator in California. To the white woman that told me she knows what it feels like to be black because she grew up poor:”
They speak now in unison.
“I would tell you to think before you speak.”
The black man begins mouthing along again.
“But your mind has got to be bacteria infected. And any filter through that labyrinth of nothingness might be worse than no thought at all.”
Now he speaks as she mouths.
“There’s a group of women going around the room, sharing their personal definition of feminism. He is the only man in the room, and all of a sudden, the tone switches to destroying the patriarchy by annihilating all men.”
She speaks now as he mouths.
“Do you know what it feels like to be black? To pop lock your way in and out of hugs? It is not a problem you want to sympathize.”
They speak in unison.
“But to tell me that you know my pain is-”
He falls silent again and mouths along as she continues speaking.
“-to stab yourself in the leg because you saw me get shot. We have two different wounds, and looking at yours does nothing to heal mine.”
She now mouths along as he speaks.
“Never will I turn away an ally.”
She speaks.
“But when a man speaks on my behalf, it only proves my point!”
He speaks.
“Movements are driven by passion, not by asserting yourself dominant by a world that already puts you there.”
They speak in unison.
“You speak to know pain that you only fathom because we told you it was there. You know nothing of silence until someone who cannot know your pain tells you how to fix it.”
They continue to speak in unison, but now slowly back away from the microphones with their arms held straight out to their sides, parallel to the ground, to mimic the pose of Jesus on the cross, in order to highlight the next line.
“Every day is a crucification. But there is no regards for lives crossed.”
They now quickly swap places and return to the microphones. This is symbolic of them switching places to speak for themselves and not each other. The white woman begins speaking alone.
“I fight so my voice can be heard. I fight for the voices you silence, all in the name of what is right.”
They speak in unison for a few words before he speaks alone as she mouths along again.
“The problem is, you assume the struggles attached to a social class. I am black, and bold, and beautiful by nature. Ain’t no income that can change that.”
She begins the next sentence alone.
“The problem with speaking up for each other-”
He speaks alone.
“is that everyone is left-”
They speak in unison.
“without a voice.”
This is the end of the poem. The audience cheers as the Button Poetry logo appears on the screen, followed by the logo for the “Association of College Unions International.”
Reblogging again because of the captions