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To live is the rarest thing in the world.

@the-cookie-of-doom / the-cookie-of-doom.tumblr.com

Other Cookie | 23 | bisexual bye-romantic | Find me on ao3 @TheCookieOfDoom | [insert Kim trauma]
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Out of the Shadows: Chapter 1 (Excerpt)

Chay looked around his childhood home for what would probably be the last time. All in all, nothing had really changed. It was just the same as it always was, without a piece of furniture out of place. He wasn’t moving, packing up his belongings in boxes for somewhere better; only leaving, with only what necessities he could carry, the few things he couldn't part with, and the cold resolve to replace anything else. Bitterly, he thought of the credit card Porsche had all but thrown to him, thought, it's not like money is a problem anymore. He could buy whatever he wanted now. All the money in the world couldn't get him what he wanted.

Chay looked at the couch where he had laid with Kim, that final day before his life came crashing down around him. The blanket was still there, bundled up at the end. He could just make out a glittering ear cuff half-way lost between the cushions.

Only six weeks. That’s how long it’s been since Chay’s life was irrevocably changed. Only six weeks, yet it felt like a lifetime. The memory of a boy sleeping on his idol's chest, confessing his love, asking if it was returned, unabashed in his certainty that it was—felt like it happened to someone else. Like Chay was watching it happen to a character on screen, his head tilted, curious to see how it would turn out. Would he cry when the protagonist was rejected? Would his heart seize with fear when the boy was abducted, would he be on the edge of his seat, waiting to see if he was killed? Would he be cold, uninterested, a casual observer? Would he care at all? Did Kim?

Chay didn’t stay long, just long enough to pack a bag with his school uniforms and some casual clothes, gather his laptop. He stopped only to glare at the pictures of WIK on his wall, illuminated by golden string lights. Angry, hurt, angry, he started to rip them off the wall, then stopped himself. He clenched his fists around the ruined pictures until a thumbtack dug into the flesh of his palm. He threw them on the ground. Turned his back on the wall. WIK—Kim—wasn’t worth the effort. Chay would never see this room again, what did it matter if the shrine to his idol remained? Kim couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

He tried to leave Kim's guitar in the corner of his room.

He couldn't.

He tried.

But even if it had come from Kim, his cruel hands had never strummed it's cords. Every note came from Chay's soul and Chay's hands, and Kim wouldn't take that away. Chay wouldn't let him.

Chay locked the front door on his way out, and kept his key. They weren’t selling the house. Porsche never would, not after all he’d done to keep it. He didn’t even know Porchay was leaving. Chay hadn’t known he was leaving until he woke up that morning, alone in an empty house, the walls closing in on him, and he realized he couldn’t do this anymore. He didn't know where he would go from here—not back to his brother, to the mafia den he called home—but he would figure it out. Somehow.

He tried. He really did. For Porsche. But this wasn’t Chay’s home the way it was for his brother. There was no warmth or love. Not even family, anymore. Every time Chay returned to it's empty rooms, all he could think about were the debt collectors that Porsche was never there to meet, always too busy with whatever odd job he’d managed to pick up, trying to make ends meet, and that wasn't all.

Chay remembered the beatings they gave Uncle Thee—who wasn’t even family, yet did damage only family could do—when they came to collect. He remembers his own kidnapping, snatched right from his front lawn, taken from the happiest moment of his life to the worst. He remembers the blissful days spent with Kim that still didn’t feel real, cooking, writing music, laying his soul bare for a man who could never return such pure, naked honesty. 

Porchay looked at the house his brother loved and saw nothing but the things he’d lost.

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“how can you ship bucktommy what about buddie????” tommy is the most compelling love interest buck has had in 6 years. he has more personality than the last 3 combined and lou can actually act. i’m absolutely gonna enjoy him while he’s here, i have enough love in my heart for all 3 of those boys in any and all combinations. skill issue if you don’t

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pansyfemme

my parents have no issue with my art being explicit or sexual and are very supportive and this is great. the issue is they’re too supportive. my dad will whip out his phone and show neighbors we barely know paintings of naked trans men on their knees and be like ^_^ im so proud of my son!!!

once i told my mom that if she invited my 90 year old grandmother to my art show that she should warn her that theres sex in it. and she was like ‘your grandmother knows what sex is. she’ll be fine’

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lucytara

anyway the actual point of fandom is to inspire each other. reading each other's fics and admiring each other's art and saying wow i love this and i feel something and i want to invoke this in other people, i want to write a sentence that feels like a meteor shower, i want to paint a kiss with such tenderness it makes you ache, i want to create something that someone else somewhere will see it and think oh, i need to do that too, right now. i am embracing being a corny cunt on main to say inspiring each other is one of the things humanity is best at and one of the things fandom is built for and i think that's beautiful

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I think there’s an argument to be made that protecting the children from relatively tame shadows of adults concepts actually makes things worse for them.

Like nothing is worse for me as an adult than the entirely unwarranted and unwanted sense of fear or scandalization from perfectly common stuff. And I don’t blame some wonderful TV show for using the word “fuck” or showing a nipple. My responses to those things are entirely constructed and cultural, and those shows are often doing me a kindness by giving me a context in which to safely re-examine them and my relationship to them.

And I just think actually there were a lot more opportunities to have a well adjusted outlook on life for the kids whose parents just told them what fuck meant.

[@dontbopthebunny reply: Will you give another example of what you mean, please?]

I can do my best. I don't know if you are just looking for simple examples. I don't think this is a simple one-to-one direct causation thing, where there are simple rules you can make for what is or isn't appropriate to discuss with kids when and if you follow them your kid will grow up mentally healthy and if you don't you've traumatized them forever.

But, for example, when I was in sixth grade I had a friend for the first half of the schoolyear who was in trouble.

I don't even remember her last name at this point, and I was an incredibly sheltered eleven-year-old. So I genuinely cannot tell you what was going on. I can tell you something wasn't right. Something with an older boyfriend and her divorced parents and stepdad? Something awful that I did not understand and did not know how to communicate.

Something she didn't tell a lot of people about, because it was a secret.

And I can't tell you how it ends. I don't know what happened to her. She disappeared from school after winter break and never came back.

I can tell you that on the two occasions I tried to talk to adults about it during our friendship, their first instinct was to protect me at the exclusion of her. The reaction was very much one of, whatever she is telling you, you shouldn't be learning about that, and it doesn't sound safe for you to be her friend, and I don't know if she's a good influence, and I am scared for you - the one who isn't being abused and is so sheltered she doesn't know how to recognize even the most basic signs about her friend. I'm not even sure they recognized this was probably some kind of abuse situation.

All they heard was an eleven-year old bringing up topics that sound like they might have something to do with sex or drugs and that's inappropriate. You're too young for that, and your friends are too, so if they are talking about it they are bad friends.

But here's the thing! Not only was she in more danger because of adults felt more inclined to protect this wealthier girl from a stable family at this other girl's expense, I was in more danger too! I had no idea how to even think of what she told me. I barely understood sex existed. And my understanding of dangerous adults was entirely based around relatively useless Stranger Danger training. Because adults felt inclined to warn me of the relatively unlikely danger of some random person asking me into a van, but not the much more likely and actively present danger of possibly my friend's parents being sexual predators or abusers of some kind.

If I hadn't been made to feel like I was maybe inviting Satan into my life by even knowing what sex was, maybe I could've better understood what my friend was trying to tell me. Maybe I could've better asked for help. And if the adult community around me had been more focused on listening to children and less on "protecting" them, maybe they could've actually protected someone.

My genuine feeling is that if a kid is old enough to ask, they are old enough to be given an honest answer (at a level they can understand). Even if the answer is sad, scary, or even traumatizing. I think it's fine to say, "the answer is scary, would you like to know, or would you just like to know Mom has it handled and it will be okay?" - and if the kid insists on knowing, try to tell them in safe and nonjudgmental environment.

We actually put children at an incredible disadvantage by labeling them "innocent and pure". Children, thank goodness, are no such thing. Children are feral little creatures who were born to survive. When I worked in daycare the kids favorite game was eating babies - they would stick dolls in the toy oven and microwave, they would SET IMAGINARY TABLES AND HAVE IMAGINARY FEASTS with an infant doll as the main entree. They thought this was hilarious.

You are not going to be able to keep trauma from your children. You are not going to be able to keep your children from trauma. You can only choose how much support you give them through trauma.

I also feel like sometimes we generate trauma by trying to separate ourselves, our society, and our children from their fleshy mortal reality. Even secular people in America like to conceptualize a person as having a kind of True Moral self, the SuperEgo is the Ideal You, that you must strive for. The "temptations" of the flesh as things to be overcome. Hunger, violent urges, lust, illness. These are external forces acting on us, not regular features of being human. Not just, like, things. That we feel. That are normal. That, yes, we need to deal with and not turn into problems for other people, but are not themselves things we need to be "protected" from experiencing or knowing about or talking about.

But the hide and deny and lie and "protect" version of teaching kids about these concepts - like foreign invaders instead of native features - hurts kids. If your kid is not supposed to know things they know, not be curious about things they are curious about, not think the things they think or feel the things they feel, they are going to be traumatized by their own normal thoughts and feelings. You generated the trauma where there was none.

All you're doing by telling your kid that Fido moved to a nice farm upstate where he's happy is arresting their development, denying them the chance to learn how to conceptualize the world as it is, and how to manage and care for themselves in it.

Kids are violent. They bite and push and shove. Kids are sexual. Sometimes infants get boners. (I have seen a one-year-old's boner while changing a diaper! It's awkward!!!! It's so awkward!!! But it shouldn't be, because it's natural and it's not sexual in the way adults are sexual. At that age, you ignore it. No need to give a one year old a shame complex). Sometimes toddlers masturbate! And that's a normal thing for them to do! They need to be taught manners about it, but they aren't doing anything wrong. Kids can experience loss and trauma. They get in car accidents, their friends can get cancer, they will experience bad things that are too big for them to deal with.

This isn't me saying "So go out and expose your three year old to the most fucked up shit you can think of." Do not do that. Please still monitor what they're watching, please watch how you talk around them, please still carefully introduce them to ideas at a level they can understand.

This is me saying, I think most of the push to "protect" kids is based around what adults wish wasn't true for them, as if pretending and wishing can somehow make it so for the next generation. If I never tell my kid about abuse, they will get to live in a world where abuse doesn't exist. But that's not what happens! Now they just live in a world where abuse exists and they can't recognize it and are ashamed to ask for help!

And this kind of fragile insulated approach to child-rearing is also just, like, incredibly classist and white. It's not about protecting everyone's sense of safety. No one cared about protecting Ruby Bridges, but now white parents panic about teaching their kids her name. White parents pull their kids out from learning about The Holocaust and slavery. They use the idea of protecting their kids from topics are "scary" or "upsetting" as a way to protect their child's, and so their own, sense of privilege and entitlement. They aren't worried about their kids. They are worried about themselves.

And ironically these kind of guarded tower approaches to childcare can actually create trauma out of the innocuous. Not all discomfort is equal. Yeah, it'll probably be a bit awkward for everyone when your kid asks where babies come from, but that's certainly going to be less traumatic than them learning when they're fifteen and pregnant.

"Protect the children" is far too often a dogwhistle that means anything from

1) I want to be able to control my children through shame

2) I want to be able to plug my ears and ignore systemic injustice

3) I want to oppress this group of people and can exploit the idea of children to do so

4) I want to protect myself from my children's judgment

5) I myself have not healthily come to terms with the ideas and realities I am now expected to guide my children through, and I do not want to work on myself

Taking care of children is obviously a hugely important thing to do. And we're only just figuring out what is and isn't good for them. We are so new to actually learning the best practices for raising safe and healthy kids.

IDK. If you're going to study how to rear healthy human children, I think you first need to acknowledge what a human is, and accept that with compassion and understanding. And a human is a hungry, sometimes horny, complex social animal, mortal and flesh as all animals are.

Honestly I think coming to terms with that reality, that we are physical and irrational and one day we will die, is also a huge trauma we need to cope with as a society across all aspects of life. Not just child-rearing. But how are your kids supposed to learn to best navigate that reality if you yourself cannot face it?

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the real antidote to the problem of "everyone is beautiful and no one is horny" is watching old horny shows like mash. nothing but perfectly normal-looking, homely, average people in that show who hook up with each other or unseen partners on a regular basis. hawkeye is absolutely drowning in sex and the man has such a bizarre mismatched set of randomly strong and weak facial features on a noodle body with dogshit posture. and it's GREAT. you can't tell how soft his jawline is because there's always a woman kissing his neck and blocking the camera. i know i riff on people saying they want to fuck mulcahy until he has a religious epiphany but as a butch lesbian with that exact face shape it's been so healing to be like. ohhhh ok so sexuality and attractiveness isn't just limited to the perfect beautiful poreless people on netflix. i understand now

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ziggyplayedd

things that made me stop wanting to die that require no effort whatsoever

  • change the color used to highlight text on your laptop
  • move the pictures on your wall
  • stack whatever clutter is in your room into piles even if you don’t have time to clean it all
  • slightly vary your commute, even just by one street
  • change where you sit and scroll aimlessly on your phone even if it’s only to the chair in your room instead of your bed
  • drink water or juice out of a wine glass in the morning because nothing is real
  • shower with the lights off, without music
  • buy $3 flowers at trader joe’s—they look bad next to the more expensive ones but they look so good in your room
  • start typing things you don’t post into your notes. your thoughts can be worth documenting even if you don’t deem them worth sharing
  • wake up super early just once. you don’t have to make it a habit it’s just extra satisfying to go to bed that night
  • listen to the entirety of your favorite album from 2015

Almost all of these are about variety. Humans need stimulation! We need enrichment! We literally cannot do the same thing every day!

The other day I was feeling miserable, so I hopped on a bus and rode it all the way back to where I’d started, and my brain, which had finally had some proper stimulation via new environments, was suddenly ready to go again!

This is why taking walks/drives and trying new hobbies are good for you! Don’t turn yourself into a sad zoo animal! You need some pumpkins to roll around in your enclosure!

ITS BACK!!!!!

god i fucking love the quote “dont turn yourself into a sad zoo animal” it has really inspired me!

Try a different hot drink in the morning!

Text someone you haven’t in a while!

Wear a fancy outfit while you have dinner!

Watch and episode of a show you used to love!!

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wildelydawn

Since Ao3 has temporarily disabled guest comments due to very mean and pornographic bots, now is a very good time for 1) readers with Ao3 accounts to comment on the fics they love and cherish to make up for those who cannot leave guest comments and 2) readers without Ao3 accounts to join the waitlist and make an account!

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auseyre

This could fall under regret, and it's certainly one of my favorite platonic/family relationships, but no prompt really.

Just realizing during rewatch how this is the first time Kinn has ever gotten to go out with his brother. How he brings his friends and gets drunk and undignified and just has a good time, savoring the moment. How sweet and heartbreaking it is at the same time.

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