Hey! Dark Academia Tips For A Beginner?

hiii let me assign you a citrus fruit and try to analyse your personality based on these weird questions <3

id like to say I like it for the metaphor but really its because I like to imagine trees growing in weird places out if spite 

HUGE fan of trees growing in places they should not reasonably be able to

reblogging for the “bullies don’t bully you because they like you”

The number of times I’ve heard it is crazy and I just don’t get it. There’s a difference between banter and being an ass guys. If the person makes you feel shitty, that’s probably what theyre trying to do-- make you feel shitty

Facts that adults don’t tell you about bullying

- Communication doesn’t work on bullies. Telling a bully they’re making you feel bad is the wrong way to go. They want to make you feel bad. That’s the point.

- being kind to a bully doesn’t always mean they’ll stop. Sometimes it means they’ll just use your kindness to manipulate you while still continuing to bully you.

- not every bully has a sympathetically tragic home life. Sometimes people are just mean. Sometimes people just get off on hurting others.

- on that note, a tough home life is a reason, not an excuse. You don’t have to put up with bullying because somebody’s life sucks, just like you don’t have to let someone mug you because they’re broke.

- in order to forgive someone, they have to apologize first. If your bully has not apologized to you, you do not owe them anything.

- getting bullied as a kid can still mess you up in adult life. Maybe kids grow out of being bullies, but the marks they left often don’t go away.

- there are ways to get people to stop bullying you, but they almost all involve being mean back.

- as long as parents keep raising shitty bullying kids, there will be bullies. No amount of assemblies and hand-drawn posters will fix the problem. It’s the parents’ fault.

A part of me knew that one last stop was going to get less hype than red white and royal blue because people find gay men more attractive than lesbians but it still hurts to see it and I didn’t think that I’d see people openly admitting to not liking it because it’s a wlw story

Let me talk about Dazai Osamu.

Dazai is often so animated, whether it be flirting shamelessly with beautiful women, or trying to get on Kunikida’s nerves, or messing with naive little Atsushi, or irritating the living heck out of Chuuya.

But, emotions? In a previous post, I talked a bit about deciphering Dazai’s emotions, about how he shows real and true emotions only in certain very calculated and planned situations.

Even for a person who rarely shows true emotions, it is visible how his face changes when the Port Mafia is brought up. His voice, his eyes, the tightness in his jaws— everything changes.

Season 1 Episode 3, when Kunikida is describing the Port Mafia to Atsushi.

For me, this is a very important hint to decipher him, a tiny gap in space-time from where I can peek into his heart.

In Season 1 Episode 5, when he intervenes the sergeant’s nervous rant to say, “No, this wasn’t the Mafia’s doing”, he’s a changed man. He not only describes, but reminisces and relives the numerous times he’s seen the event he’s describing unfold.

He doesn’t meet anybody’s eyes, he’s staring into space. His voice is lower, a sharp contrast to the usual high pitched, lulting, lively voice. This isn’t the voice he uses to talk with his colleagues in the Detective Agency, with Atsushi.

In Dead Apple, while facing away from Atsushi, he says, “I might have stayed there, murdering people.” His head is angled towards the ground, voice low.

(what might he have been feeling then? that’s a topic for another day.)

In Season 2 Episode 9, while he’s talking directly with the Port Mafia boss, Mori-san, there’s is somethingly uncannily odd about his face— eyes open far too wide, smile far too forced.

I’ve searched long for the right word to describe this expression— it’s uncomfortable.

Haunted.

He’s uncomfortable, he’s uneasy, but he doesn’t know that, he can’t acknowledge that, he wouldn’t accept that, because how do you hide what you don’t know you’re feeling?

∘

The problem here is, Dazai cannot see that he himself, was also a victim. He sees himself only as an abuser.

The fact that he’s also a victim, a young boy who watched his boss murder an old man, a young boy held at gunpoint so he couldn’t go to save his friend— he doesn’t understand his abuse. He doesn’t understand he was also wronged, he always sees himself as the wrong do-er.

Which is why he never let himself heal, because in order to do that, you have to notice your injuries first. Like he literally covered himself up in bandages, figuratively he did so too— made up a smile and built walls all around him, impenetrable, insurmountable.

In these specific moments though, his face betrays his mind.

His face makes it very apparent that he was affected, is still affected, regardless of whatever he tells himself.

It’s in these moments, that you see he has a living, beating heart, scarred and heavy and haunted with the trauma of his unspeakable past.

It’s in these moments that you see he’s human— still, despite, after all.

∘

he’s listening to his enemies begging for mercy as he plays carameldansen for the six hundreth fifty ninth time

what is kirby listening to

i think writing fanfiction is easier than writing original stories because there are restrictions. You known, like characterization or past events or genres. Because some flowers can only grow if they have a wall to climb

oh look its half of my aesthetics

a friend encountered while on a run; my blurry notes on a physics lab. my friend and I last year, unaware of what the year 2020 would bring. the graveyard I pass on the way to campus.

Keep reading

what if every Tumblr user suddenly looses their mouse?

rotating hamlet in your head when you're NOT mentally unwell is actually a wonderful experience. because now you can see outside the barbed walls of pain. beyond the balcony rails that look like prison bars. you can see the glimmers of gertrude's undeniable love for hamlet, even when she did it all wrong. you can see the defiance in ophelia's yes my lords, a sort of kindredness to the women you grew up with who knew how to pick battles and hide a smirk. you can see the banter between horatio and hamlet, like boys playing in a creek before one moves away for good. you can watch hamlet mouth the plays the thing, wherein ill catch the conscience of the king and have your heart break for the scared son who's clinging to a reason to live through narrative. and oh, how you notice the narrative. how it encircles. how it continues, despite laertes trying to fling himself to be with ophelia, despite horatio's lips almost kissing the cup. now, you can hold the characters gently, with the distance and closeness of a gravedigger. now, you can hold yourself gently: act five is over now. close the curtains, strike the props, hug the other ones who made it out covered in fake blood and real sweat. the play's the thing, and you might have to do it again. the story lives, on and on and on, in a hundred adaptations in a hundred formats. in a hundred broken peoples heads, and sometimes, those people heal long enough to say denmark was a prison, let me tell you about it.