#peace.

[flitsy]

Maaaaan. I knew it from the start. It was her fault. He can't go joining anybody as a full-on partner when he's stuck on somebody's leash.

That wasn't laughter of enjoyment it was laughter of desperation and despair.

[matriegler]

peace.

O dia de natal se arrastou angustiante depois do sol nascer. A febre foi embora, mas o corpo ainda carregava uma espécie de peso e Mat não sabia dizer se estava doente ou apenas triste. Tanto a mãe quanto o pai perceberam seu esmorecimento. A mãe aparecia de meia em meia hora com chá, sopa, um carinho nos seus cabelos, preocupada, mas apreciando a pressa que o filho não tinha de ir embora. O pai surgiu em um momento em que Matías tinha voltado da sala para o quarto, como que empurrado por Catalina para checar o estado do filho. Rodou no quarto, fez perguntas indiretas, sem jeito, tocando os pequenos objetos dispostos pelo ambiente sem realmente prestar atenção, somente um pretexto para sondar o filho. Ganhavam somente respostas vagas de um Matías silencioso, nada mais que isso. O desânimo fez o rapaz dormir no fim da tarde e, quando acordou no início da noite, se deparou com uma mensagem de um número desconhecido, dentre outras que ele ignorou sem pensar duas vezes, pela curiosidade em relação ao que tinha na primeira. Um link. Uma playlist. Mat encarou o celular por alguns segundos, minutos, quem sabe? Quando criou coragem de se mover, buscou os fones de ouvido e deu o play pela ordem selecionada. Não seria exagero dizer que Mat passou toda a noite e madrugada ouvindo às canções. Só a voz feminina poderia tê-lo enlouquecido, então foi quase demais "ler" cada carta escrita por Elizabeth. Matías queria muito acreditar que não eram para ele, que tinha escrito para outro cara, ou para ninguém, mas conseguiu inegavelmente se reconhecer nas letras, reconhecer o relacionamento que tiveram, as emoções que sempre pensou ter vivido ao lado dela, quase que por magia, um fio invisível que os conectava. Fosse um disco, teria criado um buraco. O sono não vinha. Quando viu o sol nascendo pela janela, Mat saiu do quarto para um banho. A casa dormia. A sua, a de Ellie também, assim pensou quando chegou na janela do seu quarto para espiar a janela dela. Foi então que viu um vulto, uma sombra do que só podia ser a ex-namorada se movimentando lá do outro lado, e Matías de repente se viu olhando ao redor à procura de algo. O saco de amendoins que o irmão tinha deixado na mesa de estudos serviria... e pensar que ele tinha brigado com Santi por causa disso... O caderno da época da escola também serviria. Mat voltou para a janela, arrepiando com o frio que entrou depois de tê-la aberto. Um amendoim, ele arremessou no vidro da janela de Ellie. Depois, mais um. E esperou.

[littersletters]

the book thief (2013)

[the-purple-dragon]

Bellatrix my beloved

This relates to "dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food," but can stand on its own as a general PSA - a character does not need to be sanitised (turned into a victim of circumstances or other characters, have their agency removed, have all their questionable actions explained away by misunderstandings) in order to be compelling and beloved. There are characters who are objectively terrible people (Bellatrix and Voldemort topping the list here), that are nonetheless wonderful characters. Not in spite of their dastardly deeds, as they say, but because of them.

Personal preference: characters who are passive woe-is-me victims of the narrative are not my cup of tea. Other people may love them and more power to them - there's plenty of such characters to go around.

But then there are the quintessential villains - those characters who are, indeed, bad (not bad as a character, but bad people). The "Nothing happened to me, Agent Starling. I happened" ones. I *love* exploring those. Not in the sense of finding excuses, much less justifications, for their behaviour, but in the sense of finding the things that drive them, their quirks, the things that constitute moral dilemmas within their original worldview.

In the case of Bellatrix, she is presented as someone who grew up in one of the wealthiest and most elitist wizarding families. They style themselves as noble and most ancient - the arrogance that comes with that! There is no implication that she was treated at all badly by her family. She's pure privilege. Haughty. Entitled. That certainly takes away the excuse of trauma/victimhood from her character. But it opens up something far more compelling to me - she needs to square her very strong belief in pure blood supremacy with the very real fact that she respects, admires and loves a half-blood.

She has such a cruel sadistic streak - the Cruciatus Curse is her specialty and, as she pointed out in her impromptu lesson to Harry, you have to really mean it for it to work. Contrast that with her ability to love the unlovable - wholly, unequivocally, unconditionally.

You'd think that someone raised in privilege would fold at the first sign of hardship. But that's not Bellatrix. She is strong in her own right. She excels at learning the Dark Arts from Voldemort - I can't see that happening unless you are incredibly smart, driven and hardworking. And she is someone who is both persistent and resilient. Even fourteen years with the prospect of a lifetime spent in Azkaban (objectively the worst place in the wizarding world) can't break her. That's what I find compelling.

Boy, does she stand up for herself and those she loves - she's the definition of "Dangerous, do NOT approach." And she makes no excuses for it. When she comes out of Azkaban she is even worse (better), even more devoted, even more convinced that her way is the way. That's tragedy enough, and to me, implying that there's some kind of abuse/trauma/grooming involved takes away from it. She did have a privileged childhood. She did know better (she was socialised at Hogwarts, she's interacted with kids from all walks of life growing up). She just chose to do every single thing she did. And she had no regrets. She has no regrets. That's the character we're working with.

And I genuinely love her. As she is. And I love seeing her in situations that explore her external as well as her inner conflict within the framework of who she is (see the Voldy situation, think the many possible facets of the Delphi dilemma). Good qualities and bad qualities can coexist in a person and Bellatrix is a great example of that. She is both damned and divine. And I wouldn't change her for the world.

[official--mello]

@matt-jeevas-official

I'm leaving you.

[the-silver-slash]

Small vent because fuck i need to get it out

TW!: mentions of Abuse,very brief suicide, needles, cancer, cuts, and just medical things in general. I plan to delete this later.

Can my body like. Stop. Please. I had cancer already, twice in my life. I'm grateful to be rid of it and survive. I had surgery, thst was hell. But no.

Now my body goes, 'oh, you've started to like yourself and shit? TO FUCKIN BAD' and BOOM. Eye sight loss. I've always had bad eye sight, been blind in my right eye. But now half of my left eye is blind too and everything is blurry as shit.

The doctors (gone to 7 of them now), haven't found anything medically wrong even in the MRI. I've gone to three different eye doctors, nothing! They say it might be stress.

This is the least stressful year of my life, honestly. I used to hate myself so much i tried to take it myself. I hated my body, my personality just everything. But now I don't. I have friends/found family that actually care for me and I love them, I like hoe my body looks, even if its got its flaws. Thsts what makes me.

If I had eye-sight loss because of stress, it would have happened fucking middle school when I was getting beat to death by own family member every fucking day. It would have happened when I had panic attacks every day because I would hear yelling and throwing and screaming from downstairs. IT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED YEARS AGO.

Ahem.

But NOW, I have to go to a physicist on thursday to see if it is something mentally wrong! And of it isn't, then it's time for my WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE.

GETTING A NEEDLE IN MY SPINE. I forgot what the procedure is called or anything, but its pretty much where they take this gaint ass needle and just... stick it into your spine and get your fluids from the spinal. NO THANKS. huge fear. Talking about it makes me cry already ugh. That and furbys (hate those lil fucks.).

So a message to my body: S T O P.

[il-yuu]

putting this separately because i have a huge announcement…… i’m leaving this blog bye. adios.

LMAOAOAO yeah ik that’s in poor taste but i’m not actually leaving (explodes) despite this blog being an internal mess and the person behind the screen also being a mess <- me. but i do wanna thank everyone for getting me to 1k because,, listen i was happy enough being a small blog and then boom, next thing i know, i’m not a small blog anymore!! which yippee!! to my moots (mwah), to those who leave comments and rbs, and to those who follow me (ofc-), and everyone!!

also this is the last of one of these milestone posts because i bet it’s lwk getting annoying for everyone HELPP

again!! thank you!! more coming at you at 11 /j /lh