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magpiemalarkey · 7 months

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Got a couple of questions from the Artist Ask Game I reblogged a bit ago from someone who asked to be anon-ized! (So, if you're shy, that is an option! I'll still know who you are, but the world doesn't have to.)

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by.

I feel like maybe I'm lucky that this hasn't happened in awhile or in ways that bothered me often, haha! But back in college I remember getting pretty salty about this happening once and so that stuck with me. During constructive criticism time, someone's sole comment on my work for one assignment was that it looked Tim Burton-y.

In that it had goth theme matter and some stripes and some lurid colors, sure, I guess? If Burton was your only other exposure to spooky themed art by nerdy goths. In an animation-related class in art school. I think Burton and I shared some inspirational overlaps in a fondness for German Expressionism and 1960's Hammer films, but stylistically, Burton's aesthetic tends to play with odd proportions and distorted forms far more than my work did (or does). If I had been drawing inspiration from Burton and had intended to do a Burton-esque piece, I would have tried to include those traits and not stuck with an approximation of my own style and a late 60s/early 70's palette.

Also, as constructive criticism, this was not helpful. It was clear from the tone that she was dismissive of my piece based on it's "Burton-esque" qualities, but she didn't come out and say anything useful. Did she hate Burton, but begrudgingly agree that Technicolor goth was working for my spooky scene? Did she think this perceived Burton-esque style was holding back my piece? Impossible to tell.

I managed to dig up the file, but given that this was for a class in Illustrator and Flash (neither of which I ever got comfortable or good at using, lmao) and I don't have either of those programs now, it got a little mangled when I asked Photoshop to open it. But I think we can all agree: not particularly Tim Burton-y!

(please don't ever ask me to use Illustrator or Flash again. I will cry. the only part I enjoyed about this project was picking music and sound effects...and jumpscaring my class at 9am in the morning.)

26. What’s a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended.

Hmm...again a benefit of being relatively obscure on the internet means that I rarely get people projecting wildly on my art. And also, if it matters how things are interpreted, I will usually include that in my comments or descriptions below a piece. I'm sure it's happened! But apparently I am less bothered by that than by uselessly-framed dubiously-constructive criticism comparing me to Tim Burton, so I recall nothing right now.

I'll pivot this to writing and tell you about the wildest feedback I ever got.

I took a short story writing class waaaaay back when I was in community college in my hometown. It was very much full of the community. Our big assignment was a short story which the class would read, write comments on, and discuss in class. I wrote a version of the fairy tale "The Fisherman and His Wife" about an aspiring artist with an ambitious wife. Rather than a fish, our protagonist meets a strange being in his dreams and helps this being out, because to the being, the dangers in dreams are real. In thanks, the being grants the artist inspiration and success in the real world. Like in the fairy tale this escalates and things get weirder and weirder in the dreamscape, until the mysterious being gets fed up and punishes the artist and his wife.

After class, one of my classmates, an older woman, approached me, convinced that I did "dreamwork" to have written of lucid dreaming and the weird symbolism of dreams so well. I tried my best to accept this as a compliment. But lady, where ever you are, I was and always have been just a weirdo who loves using dreams as an excuse to go wild with surreal almost-logic and weird descriptions and symbolic landscapes.

I think this was the first time in my life where I was really sharing work with strangers and having strangers come to conclusions about me based on my writing and so it felt and feels bigger than it is.

And while I'm not upset about this conclusion being drawn and can definitely understand that this lady was excited to discover I had written something that resonated so strongly with her passions that she assumed I shared them....it did feel kinda weird and put me in a weird position to have her approach me assuming I did dreamwork rather expressing that it reminded her of dreamwork and asking me if was into such things.

Heh, both of these questions kinda made me think of situations where people made an assumption about me and my work and acted on that, rather than leaving me any space to explain or discuss. Very....

Anyway! That was a lot of words! It turns out, I am very verbose! Feel free to scroll way back to the beginning to find that link to the Artist Ask Game to ask me more questions and see if I can stay on topic!

#magpiemalarkey chatter #artist ask game #ask game #ask response

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jinxedpanda4life · 3 years

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Criminal Investigator AU HC

I would first like to start off by saying thank you to everyone.

I honestly did not expect the response I got to my Damirae Hospital AU HC list.

When I first woke up and checked tumblr ~13 hours after posting I had a holy shit moment.

I felt powerful, should I? Probably not.

But! Since I am noticing a lack of AUs in the fandom, whether on Tumblr, AO3 or FanFiction.net, whatever AU comes to my mind I shall jot down some hcs for!

Thank you all once again!

(Also trying format changes for easy reading)

(Also Also, I am thinking the story is less fluid but more episodic)

Let’s get started:

- So I’m thinking this is some FBI, SVU, and FBI BAU mixture or whatever. Basically all the great shows we know in love shoved together. From Bones to Criminal Minds and everything in between.

- Special Agent (Dr.) Raven Roth is a lead interrogator and is the resident psych consult.

She’s been educated in interrogation, behavioral science, psychology, forensic pathology, and criminology.

She has combat training (hand to hand), she carries (for her job) a gun and at all times has a knife/dagger on her person (people have stopped trying to figure out where she keeps them).

Her father was/is crime boss T. Trigon who is currently imprisoned.

Was born in the states but fled with her mother to Romania when she was a newborn.

When Trigon found them he killed Arella and took Raven, she was abut 9 - 10 years old.

She took her mother’s last name when she turned 18.

Knows two languages besides English; French, Romanian, Romani (various dialects but knows multiple), Greek and Latin

On more than one occasion some goon of her father’s tries to recruit her, every time she kicks their ass. (Damian was there for the most recent (he was still green though))

Lives by herself in a decent sized apartment, has a gun safe (gun safety is important!), a cat (Nevermore), and is a regular at a 24/7 bookstore &/ cafe

Can usually be found wearing some kind of jacket, sweater, cardigan

She once helped save some kids (Melvin, Tommy & Teether) and is now their surrogate aunt, she has photos of them at her desk @ work. (Damian assumes/ed that they were her kids)

She also, when she can, hangs out and babysits them on occasion.

Raven is part of a team consisting of Dick Grayson (unit leader), Kori Anders, Garfield Logan, Jaime Reyes, and very recently Damian Wayne

- Special Agent Damian Wayne is a lead investigator (he is still a bit fresh to the unit), translator, sniper and combat coordinator

He’s been educated in martial arts, explosives, hand to hand combat, close range combat, and combat (basically he knows how to kill you 9 ways to Sunday), also, behavioral science, computer science, criminology, linguistics and language.

He can easily translate (into English): Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Hindi, Bengali, French, Polish, German, Spanish, Portuguese, he can also learn any language you put in front of him and know the basics within a day

(Having lived in many places around the world he needed to be able to speak and understand in order to survive) (wow dramatic much?)

His father is currently the director (or deputy director, whatever floats ya boat) of the FBI.

His mother was essentially a secret agent who worked for various agencies around the globe. (deceased)

His grandfather was the leader of a, um, well to be honest, terrorist agency. (deceased)

Was sent to live with his father when he was 15 (when his mother died) and has been in the states ever since

Lives alone, he has an upscale apartment that he truthfully spends little time in, has multiple locations in the home where various weapons are stored, his place has a very cold atmosphere

Is either in proper work attire or in work out clothing, there is no in between

Tries and fails not to take work home with him

He sees a therapist (who says he should probably try investing in relationships with the people at his job)

His only “friend” (he hates calling him that, more like close acquaintance) is Jonathan Kent who was in his class at the FBI Academy, Jon works in a white collar crime department in Metropolis

The only person he actually kind of sort of doesn’t dislike is in fact Raven Roth, she’s a no bull shit person, he likes that

He may know Grayson because of how he’s Bruce’s kind of son but it does not mean he likes him

He finds Logan annoying as all hell, even if he is somewhat useful

He picked a fight with Reyes first day and regretted it (he will never admit that), he respects him

Anders is overly friendly in his opinion, kind of acts like a secretary with all that positivity and grates his nerves, he tolerates her

(Unlike last time I am not going in detail about the rest of the team, this will be brief)

- Supervisory Special Agent Dick Grayson (Unit Chief) is basically Dick Grayson with a big fancy title but all the same skills

He is also obsessed with Slade Wilson and Red X (who is Jason in this)

- Supervisory Special Agent Kori Anders is a lead investigator and is also a go to for undercover work

- Special Agent Garfield Logan is a lead interrogator, is head of the unit’s K-9 unit and kind of has a thing for Roth (which she does not reciprocate)

- Special Agent Jaime Reyes is a tactical analyst, tech analyst and is head of the unit’s SWAT team, he does not do well with talking with people, or change

The Scarab is a computing program that Jaime created himself

STORY START:

- When Damian first joins the team there is another member, Special Agent Terra Markov, she is revealed as a sleeper agent but she aligns herself with the team and sadly is shot and killed in a fire fight

- A couple weeks after Agent Markov’s death everyone is talking about what they are doing for an upcoming holiday, Damian says probably nothing, Raven invites him to spend it with her and her “niece” and “nephews,” he declines

- About a day after the holiday Damian is home looking through case files when someone knocks on his door

-- It is Raven. He asks how she knew where he lived, she says she asked Dick, she also says that she knows how it feels to be alone and that he may be insufferable but it doesn’t mean he can’t have a friend

-- His response is saying he isn’t the kind to make friends with co workers

-- “I’m not asking to be your friend Damian, I am asking you to be his,” She reveals a small black great dane puppy “I know that other people aren’t really your thing, but having someone in your corner and waiting for you is always nice, even if it isn’t human.”

-- Damian invites her in, names the dog Titus and thanks her

-- “Just make sure no one tries to kidnap and kill you, we don’t need you to go full blown John Wick.” Damian has no idea who that is. Raven tells him it is an action movie series that he should watch. She leaves. He does watch them that night with Titus on his lap. (after having gone to the local pet supply store to get everything he needs) The action is inaccurate but he enjoyed the movies none the less, and decides that he probably would go into John Wick mode if someone hurt Titus.

- SA Roth and SA Wayne are sent to a high security federal prison to interrogate a prisoner, who refuses to speak

-- When they get into the interview room the prisoner does start to speak, but not in English and not in a language Damian is fluent in

-- Raven on the other hand immediately responds to the prisoner (shocking the prisoner and Damian) “He is speaking Romani though not the dialect of those overseas, he learned it here.”

-- Damian is fascinated by it and they are essentially switching roles the entire time

-- They leave having successfully interviewing the prisoner, and Raven leaves behind a written list of common words in Romani so that they can possibly communicate with the prisoner better

-- As soon as they are on the plane back Damian asks her a myriad of questions from “How many languages do you know?” to “When did you learn that?” and even “Are you a spy? Sleeper agent? Part of a terrorist cell?”

-- “Not as many as you, when I was a child, if I was part of any of that you wouldn’t be asking.” The rest of the trip is spent with her teaching him Romani and even some Romanian

- Dick & Kori eventually get together and after a while they break up. Kori takes some vacation time. At the same Dick has been temporarily reassigned to another unit.

-- Chaos ensues

-- Garfield thinks he should be the interim unit chief, Jaime thinks the same, as does, you guessed it, Damian (Raven doesn’t want to she is comfortable with her role on the team)

-- In the end they are assigned an interim unit chief, SSA Jason Todd, who usually works overseas on covert op missions (not gonna lie this could easily flow into a Jayrae thing)

-- Everyone kind of falls into line, except Damian, Damian doesn’t like him for two reasons

1) He doesn’t act serious about the job 24/7

2) He has been flirting and hitting on Raven the moment he stepped into their sector

-- Damian hates the names he gives her; “Little Bird,” “Sunshine,” “Princess,” “Rae,” (no one calls her Rae, not even Garfield, at least not after the incident) etc.

-- (Little does Damian know, Jason and Raven have worked together before and are actually friends)

-- This all comes to a head when Damian and Jason are the only ones still in the office after a tiring case.

“You shouldn’t do that you know.”

“Do what? All I am doing right now is contemplating where Grayson keeps the liquor.”

“Call Raven all those names, she doesn’t like it.”

“Really? Because if you haven’t noticed she hasn’t exactly asked me to stop.”

“She gets uncomfortable, maybe not to the extent of asking you to stop, but she tenses up and her body language becomes slightly more agitated.”

“You seem to pay a lot of attention in how she reacts to thinks baby brat. Seems to me that you like her.”

“Of course I like her, she is a good friend and reliable teammate.”

“No, you like like her.”

“That presumption is juvenile.”

“But you don’t deny it.”

“Tch.”

-- If anything after that conversation Jason seems to doubled his advances. Which confuses both Damian and Raven. Damian because it is inappropriate and HR will be hearing about this. Raven because she was under the assumption that she and Jason were just friends. (Jason actually does have genuine intentions but is like 60% just egging Damian on)

-- Eventually (far too long for Damian’s tastes), both Dick and Kori return. At first it is sooooooo awkward. Like mom and dad divorced have shared custody but don’t hate each other but also cannot look each other in the eye. ((Was that a mouthful? Good)) No one can really look at each other the same? Though they do have a meeting to sort it out, get everything out in the open.

- Raven’s annual kidnapping/attempt to convert her/torture comes almost exactly one year after Damian joined the team (this is his 2nd time dealing with this)

-- This time Damian is prepared. By prepared I mean Raven doesn’t even leave her apartment before she is taken to safety.

“Damian what is going on?”

“Christmas came early this year that’s what.”

“Christmas? What in gods name are you talking about.”

“God has no dealings in this matter.”

“You do realize you are sounding like a bad action movie? It is not even 6 am and I am in your car going somewhere, I have had little to no sleep and I am barely dressed. What is going on?” Damian hadn’t payed attention to what clothing Raven was wearing. His mind was on one goal. Find Raven, keep Raven safe. His eyes glanced off the road enough to realize she was indeed not properly dressed. Her body was merely adorned with an oversized tee-shirt, tiny barely there shorts and a pair of fluffy socks.

“I apologize, it appears in my haste I did not leave you time to properly clothe yourself. As to why you are here, it seems your father and his people have shortened their waiting time this year from one year to a little more than ten months.” Ravens hands fisted her shirt. “This time I was prepared,” last time he was still new to everything, last time he made mistakes, this time there will be no mistakes. “Since our last encounter with your demon, so to speak, I have been setting in place precautions and safety measures to ensure Nevermore and yours’ safety. I have also been tracking the movements of his big players. If any came close I would mark it down. Multiple are entering the city at this moment. Seeing as you we taken last time I have made plans to ensure that will not happen again.” The car made a snap turn down an unfamiliar street pulling Raven from her clouded gaze.

“So I am going to be okay this time?” Her voice was faint and restraining against hope.

“You’re going to be okay.” His hand lightly held hers. Only to stop the shaking, they told themselves, only to make everything better. “Nevermore is with Titus at my place being watched by a friend of mine. I have already walked Grayson through everything we will not be expected at work this week, but we can work remotely.”

“We?”

“I’m not going to leave you. Ever.”

-- ((Sorry for the blocks of text))

-- As Raven finds out they are at one of Damian’s safe houses. The one least likely to be tied to her. It is fully stocked with food, has security cameras and if needed weapons. The only problem is that the only clothes there are Damians.

“Thought of everything huh?”

“I was following their pattern, I expected to have more time to acquire clothing for you.” (he was looking away and blushing, you cannot tell me he wasn’t)

-- Raven just resigns herself to wearing Damian’s clothes, yes his brain does stop working for a hot second when he sees her in only his clothes.

-- All attempts to try and retrieve codename: Gem of Scath are foiled (like some good math)

-- So many bonding moments happen. Cuddling (pure accident *rolls eyes*), eating together, inside jokes, etc. At one point Damian answers her phone (he disabled and disconnected the tracer) to one of the mob guys after them.

“Hello?”

“You can hide the gem but we will find her.”

“I’m sorry, is there a jewel you are looking for? I don’t think I have and any jewels that I am coveting.”

“We know you are with her! It is but a matter of time until we collect her.”

“I hope you do eventually find whatever you are looking for sir, but I haven’t the slightest idea the gem you speak of. If you could give me a physical description? Is it a ruby, diamond, onyx? Is it round or more of a pear shape?”

“...”

“Well, I will look for it here, but I do not believe I possess what you speak of. Will you give me your number so I can call you back?” (The line cuts dead, and Raven can be seen laughing in the background, the phone was on speaker)

-- Once the team tracks down, arrests and interrogates all of the parties working for Trigon; Raven and Nevermore can go home. Though both are reluctant in their own way. Nevermore has grown attached to Titus, and Raven well Raven has feelings. Sadly, as Raven knows, feelings are dangerous to have in their line of work.

-- Look at Dick and Kori they were together and then they fell apart and the team almost imploded.

-- What about Trigon if he finds out about Damian and how she feels towards him? What kind of danger will he be in then?

-- Like all of her feelings Raven puts them in a box and locks the box away. Not just figuratively, in her safe there is a box with: post its, torn papers, journals, etc. That box has a lock on it. Whenever she has a new feeling that she cannot ignore, like her feelings towards Special Agent Wayne, she takes out the box and writes her feelings down. They can range from a single sentence to pages worth. (Her feelings towards Damian fill a small notebook she has on hand). Once she has written all of her feelings out she places them in the box, locks said box and then places the locked box in her safe, which she then locks.

-- Is this a healthy way to cope with her feelings? Maybe not. But, it is way better than how Damian deals with his. Violence. Also art but violence comes first.

- At this point both Damian and Raven have caught the feelings (highly contagious I hear), which makes this a little awkward and a little not awkward. For one everyone but Raven knows how Damian feels towards her. He does things for her and with her that no one else gets the privilege to.

-- To list a few:

--- He brings her tea whenever he gets himself coffee or tea

--- He talks to her about what he does outside of work, even about his kind of friend definitely not enemy, Jon.

--- They socialize outside of work. Watching bad movies (some of them are not that bad), going to the park with Titus (they once got Nevermore in a leash and walked her), meeting each other before and after work to get breakfast or dinner.

--- He doesn’t glare at her

--- He allows physical contact between the two

--- He worries about her (hello he created an entire plan so that she wouldn’t get kidnapped, with contingencies and everything, garfield would be lucky to get a plan)

--- His eyes light up when she talks, or enters a room, or you know exists in his vicinity

--- He actually smiles around her (Dick caught him smiling once at Raven and he though Damian was having a stroke)

-- Even though everyone knows Damian likes Raven, very few know that Raven likes Damian back. (this only includes; Kori, Dick, Jason, Titus, Nevermore, and Melvin) She does do certain things that give herself away just like Damian.

--The list:

--- When Damian gets frustrated or angry she puts a hand on his arm, or holds his hand

--- She laughs at things he does (light chuckles, or little giggles)

--- She will talk to him about his interests and actively tries to have conversations with him about things unrelated to work.

--- She blushes when he does something unexpected (like a compliment)((Mostly she tries to hide it until he isn’t looking at her))(((Kori has caught the blush before)))

-- Luckily for them it does not take some cliche ‘One suddenly becomes in danger and the other one saves them only to be close to death and then they admit their love for one another and promise to go on a date when the other is healed’ situation.

-- Damian actually asks Raven out after being tipped of by Jason and Dick that she may like him back. Damian finds out when they have days off at the same time and asks her while leaving work.

“Raven, you have this weekend off correct?”

“Yeah I do. I wasn’t planning on doing anything though. Did you have something in mind?”

“Um, yeah, heh, I was wondering if you would do me the pleasure of going to dinner with me tomorrow.” *Awkwardly rubs back of neck*

“Like a date or two friends going to dinner?” *Thinks she sounds harsh* “I am honestly fine with either since we are friends.” *nervous smile*

“Like a date if that is okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, yeah totally that is totally okay with me.” *Starts sounding like a teenage girl who only knows about 10 words, because she’s nervous*

“Good, I’ll be by your place around 1830, if that is okay?” *nerve central, the central nervous system could never*

“Yup that is totally fine with me.”

“Great.”

“Good.” The elevator opens in the knick of time.

“See you tomorrow evening Agent Roth. Have a good night.”

“You too, Agent Wayne, you too.”

-- When Damian does pick her up he feels like his brain is going to explode. She looks absolutely breathtaking. This is just like all the other times they’ve gone to dinner, except this restaurant is slightly fancier and they are on a date.

-- Raven feels as though all her emotions are leaking out at once, she has no idea what she is doing.

-- In the end they have a good time and decide to do it again. Damian does bring up that all of the breakfasts and dinners they regularly do could now be considered dates. Raven does not oppose that switch at all.

- Fast forward a handful of years (like 3?), Damian and Raven are moved in together (Nevermore and Titus are happy about this, they even allow the humans to adopt another pet, a cat named Alfred). Damian is now Supervisory Special Agent Wayne and is in charge of their unit. Raven has retired from field work and now works at the FBI academy and at Virginia State University. In about 6 months Damian is going to propose and Raven will say yes. Their wedding will be small but happy and full of life.

Once again I would like to thank everyone and all the support the previous post got.

Like last time if anything is disjointed, out of place or seems wrong, please go ahead and tell me. I have been working on this since the last one, but have finally had the time to finish it.

I hope the new year will bring us all some good. Possibly more head canons to come.

#damirae #Damian Wayne #raven #Rachel Roth #damian x raven #Teen Titans #Headcanon #How do tags work #dc #demonbirds

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a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 4 years

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Cardassians aren’t Nazis (and also not quite the USSR, but I see where you’re coming from)

TW: for much discussions of Nazism, fascism, persecution, no details

So tottering around as a lover of DS9 and (disclaimer) as a major fan of the Cardassians as a not-yer-generic-villain type villain that then become less of a villain, because you can’t assign villainy to a whole species + also being German and hearing/watching/reading a lot of analyses that compare them to Nazis is inspiring me to write this (gasps for breath at the end of that sentence).

@tinsnip , @handsome-anne

1. Who were the Nazis that the Cardassians are specifically being compared to (versus neo-nazis/alt-rights, etc. that they’re not being compared to)

Short version: Post WWI the Versailles Treaty fucked over Germany in a way that left it wide open to the sort of megalomaniacal little bastard on a powertrip that fed on people’s fear and pushed them into a far-right disaster. The Nazi party itself didn’t have a ton of members, but it basically eroded any kind of democracy the country had and decided it would scapegoat Jews, Romani, communists, queer people, and other “intelligent elite”/political dissident and then spread those ideals across the world like a demented wannabe roman Caesar state. This didn’t last too long in the grand scale of world history, but left a body count of 6 million+ dead, mainly Jewish.

2. Germany and its relationship to this history

So Germany tries pretty hard to teach people this history in schools, through memorials, in film, etc. It’s not perfect by any means, there’re still discussions on how to make reparations, as well as neo-nazis and other far-right people around still, sadly just like in the rest of the world.

But it’s not covering up these atrocities, because there’s a belief that the way to make sure it doesn’t happen again is to be honest. Sadly, not everyone around the world gets as detailed a history surrounding its origins, happenings, and aftermaths, nor does every country engage with its own past like that.

3. Let’s get fictional (Cardassians, first impressions)

The Cardassians are a species that we mainly meet first through their subjugation of the Bajoran people, and then on DS9 following the immediate aftermath of the occupation on Bajor and everything that follows on from there. Throughout the story we discover various bits about what they had done - labour camps, mass executions, forced prostitution, and in that one Voyager episode I’m not a fan of because it didn’t have the range, experimentation.

On the surface, pretty comparable to the nazis, I get it. Hell, often that’s definitely “the source” of where the writers are getting their ideas.

4. So they’re... Nazis?

The problem comes when using one fascist regime as a go-to for these atrocities. It ignores the reality of fascism beyond this particular point in history and also it’s just not that simple.

When looking at Nazi Germany we also have to look at the source of its making, the climate around it (countries like the UK having a nazi party, Italy and Spain having fascist dictators, hell, the list of dictators that were/are not German is disgustingly long, the worldwide anti-semitism making surrounding countries apathetic or even sympathetic to the Nazis, etcetc.) and the aftermaths of WWII.

The Cardassians are not Nazis. (As an aside the Federation are not the brave allies, but that’s another post for another day.) I’ve seen them compared to the USSR - both by official writers and fandom - which I won’t comment on seeing as I am not from anywhere that was affected by that (I’m not East German, but I do have East German friends), but at least this points out that one cannot compare Cardassians to a specific atrocity that happened at a specific time with specific connotations surrounding it.

Is the Obsidian Order the Gestapo or another secret police? Which secret police? Is Garak “the good Nazi” trope - but then how does that align with Cardassians living under a repressive regime for centuries, not a few years, and therefore take into account an indoctrination and climate of fear created over several generations? No child “born” into the nazi regime became an adult while it was still lasting, unlike the Cardassians (and many other real life dictatorships and fascist states - as well as "democratic” states that have similar kinds of surveillance, oppression, mass-imprisonment and disappearances, and camps).

Is every Cardassian soldier a “nazi”? How does one compare that to polish and french prisoners (see Pierre Seel for a particular harrowing account, all the trigger warnings apply) who were forced to fight for the Germans and put on the front lines?

Eugenics, labour camps, and every other atrocity has been practised by numerous regimes, both in history and now, can we shrug off every country that’s participated in them for the sake of making the metaphor “easier”?

How does the aftermath of the Cardassian Union - when they’re attacked by the Klingons and themselves occupied by the Dominion and then have their main planet bombed to the point of millions dead - align with Nazi Germany?

5. It doesn’t.

It doesn’t. It doesn’t neatly align with any other fascist or military dictator-led regime either. This is not saying that there aren’t aspects obviously borrowed from history (and can easily apply to now). This is saying that in trying to bend the Cardassians into Nazis specifically, people are ignoring every other aspect about them and in my opinion doing a disservice to those who suffered under the actual regime. This is a fictional world, with fictional people that is based on an oppressive society template. It is also a fictional world in which the people themselves are oppressed (especially if you align with what’s written in Andy Robinson’s book) - I’ll be getting back to that point in a bit.

I would argue that making it “about Nazis” is too easy. This isn’t about “us” this is about “them” those evil bastards from wwii. It strips the Cardassian story of any current-day relevance. One can look no further than one’s own society to see people struggling against acknowledging histories, being treated as second-class citizens, etc. No need to go back in time to do so.

It also strips the Cardassians of any three-dimensionality. If they’re just villains then why are we rooting for their uprising to succeed at the end of season 7? Why do we want their society to flourish, their people to no longer have a broken court system, and their secret police to stop training and recruiting children if they’re Nazis, the convenient shorthand for über-evil?

Cardassia isn’t about a past society, it’s about our society. If we empathise with the Cardassians and don’t cast them as villains, then it’s a discussion about our own oppression and privilege. And it’s a damned good scifi allegory (even if I sometimes don’t think the writers and showrunners quite understand it themselves - death of the author and all that).

6. To conclude

I didn’t mention Bajor as much in this, because I was very focused on Cardassians, but I would argue that while there is value in casting them as “space Jews” (as I’ve seen here and there) because I understand the value of representation and I am not taking that away from anyone (I hope), similarly if one reads this take as the only valid one it ignores the reality of religious oppression on a wider scale and also that the Bajorans’ oppression at the hands of the Cardassians didn’t happen for the same reasons as the Jewish genocide at the hands of the Nazis - I would also argue that in making Cardassians = Nazis / Bajor = Jews, we similarly ignore that the Nazis were and are not alone in perpetuating anti-semitism, which kinda again leans into the “Good Federation (the Allies) Versus Evil Cardassians (Nazis) - because none of the Good Allied Countries have ever/are currently involved in persecution or dehumanisation *stares into the void*

And lastly - bringing back a point I made earlier about Cardassians themselves being oppressed by their own government - something that is often forgotten when people talk “Nazi tropes in genre fiction” is that the first country the Nazis occupied was Germany. I’m mentioning this, because it’s interesting in the metaphor, but it’s also conspicuously is absent in the simplification of how these reads are applied. It’s easy to cast the Cardassians as a whole as Bad People, but it makes for worse story-telling and has uncomfortable undertones of how the world reads Germany’s people as being at fault as a whole as well, without taking into account the specific events that we were globally complicit in - and once again the metaphor falls apart, because allegory doesn’t work so easily, and it shouldn’t.

TL; DR In general I am uncomfortable by “Nazi’s used as tropes” in any fictional world. One shouldn’t sacrifice analysis nor simplify history for the sake of making it easier to make a quick point about “bad guys” and forcing allegories into one shape makes them lose their power.

Also watch German films on Nazism and European ones on WWII if you’re looking for some better takes (also Cabaret, one of the best movies ever made).

#ds9 #st: ds9 #star trek #cardassia #bajor #cardassians #bajorans #ds9 meta #star trek meta #tw: nazi mention #tw: discussions about genocide #this is a looong breakdown basically summed up as *stop simplifying allegories*#but I've seen *nazi tropes' thrown around so casually not just here but in so much fiction that I kinda *nope*#so it feels like a post that I needed to get off my chest

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okay-victoria · 3 years

Text

Status of Women in The Empire

Summary: LN gives some evidence women have a better status than they did in OTL Germany. It gives little to nothing in the way of evidence that we are in post-sexual-revolution territory. It presents little enough evidence generally that you can use this issue in your own story as you wish; however, using how humans actually work as your baseline, it would be a very definite handwave to think that gender equality is much more than marginally better than OTL would have been at the time, or that Tanya wouldn’t be negatively affected by it in some significant ways in daily life. On the other hand, the original story handwaves an eight year old enrolling in a modern military and getting promoted to a mid-ranking officer by age eleven, so as a reader, I’m obviously pretty down for handwaving some realism for the sake of a good story.

Evidence:

V1/C1

“The armed forces have a practical exception in place for just about everything.” <= I think in fanon the entire Empire as seen as this sort of “everything we do is logical” territory where gender discrimination would have had to be eliminated, but in reality it’s presented as the military, and they are making an exception for a rare and incredibly militarily useful type of person to be able to be put to use by them without gender discrimination stopping it.

V1/C4

“But in the far-from-gender-free world of “ladies first,” Tanya with her outwardly girlish appearance is, albeit only relatively, blessed compared to the other students” <= YMMV, but I would not describe modern society as a world of “ladies first”. Do people do/say it to hark back to pre-1960s chivalry? Sure. Is it really the standard we live by anymore? Not so much. Tanya seems to pretty definitely still be living in those days.

“Basically, apart from the mage branch, the army is a man’s world. Actually, even most of the mages are men.” <= this is notable because it is said when Tanya is in War College, at which point the war has been going on for long enough that available mages have been conscripted, so there is no selection bias that men have simply chosen to pursue a career as a mage more often than women. This is actually weirdly important because it either means:

Magic talent is like, an X chromosome trait and men are thus more likely to have it [in which case, it would probably be taken as natural evidence that men are superior and worsen the gender equality situation]; or

There in fact is a Youjo Konki-esque exception for married women and/or mothers. A nation has to still be relatively in the infancy of gender equality if Female Mage #102 has children with Infantryman #1,000,102 and the military decides that since it can’t leave these children parentless, it has to conscript the dude who is substitutable for literally anyone else and not the human weapon.

Tanya has a long-ish reflection on women in the military. Important points are, the rules have only been overhauled recently to make it practical for women to serve in combat. Women in combat didn’t really exist prior to this war, and women in the military were basically limited to noble/imperial families having their daughters serve out nominal duties. Whatever boost women as a whole get from serving in a capacity that people are used to seeing men in, it has not had time to transform society all that much.

V2/C2

“Women administrators are not uncommon, but in the Empire where gender equality still has a ways to go, their qualifications are always questioned.” <= YMMV as to what degree this is meant to be a statement on something that still troubles women in modern times, or something that indicates gender equality is not particularly close to modern.

V2/C5

“After all, now that I’ve been turned into a girl, I’m faced with this annoying military framework where men are superior. Just the thought of my promotions being blocked by an invisible glass ceiling is enough to dampen any desire I might have to act all girlish for propaganda…apart from that, the Empire’s personnel system has adapted extremely meritocratic principles for the war, in a way, so I’m more or less satisfied with it.” <= sort of same as above, YMMV on whether this is just Tanya realizing what life is like for a woman in modern society or meant as a “no, it was worse” point.

However, I will say this: I highly, highly doubt any men chosen for high military honors were photographed doing anything other than looking ultra manly in uniform. Women serving in modern militaries are not forced to put on showy dresses when they get their photos taken, they are treated, at least in photos, with the same respect as their male colleagues. The fact that anyone found it appropriate to only photograph the recipient of the highest military honor in cute girl clothes speaks to some deep discomfort with anyone outside the military seeing women not doing what they’re supposed to.

V6/C6

“The Imperial Army has already tapped all the population pools that can be mobilized, but it still has two options. One is to begin the general conscription of women. That said, they’ve already been mobilized in the industrial sector.” <= YMMV, again, on how willing a modern country would be to conscript women to fight a world war, but if you are as deep into a world war as the Empire is and no one’s trying it, at the least we can say the Empire is not the bastion of cold logic it fanonically is outside the military. Also, it pretty much seems like women working in large numbers has only become a thing because all the guys are off fighting, which very much sticks us in pre-1950s territory.

V8/C1

Andrew reacts surprised to see a female reporter from the Federation, and reflects that they are quite liberal in some ways <= while this is a non-Imperial guy, given his familiarity with the Empire, it would seem weird that if the Empire was particularly more advanced than his country that he would still be so surprised.

Other Working Knowledge Your Author Has On This Subject:

Women serving in the military, while certainly helpful to the cause of gender equality, by itself is not going to create a broad-based transformation in society. That sounds a bit like saying: As we all know, the US dropped any racist laws or regulations as soon as we started allowing non-white units in the military. After Elizabeth I serving as the Ruler of England, a very manly role that her tiny woman-brain didn’t fuck up too bad, the people who thought women were naturally stupider than men were quickly relegated to the margins and gender discrimination mostly became more of an annoyance than a real hindrance to the average woman’s goals. It just doesn’t work that way. And I’m not here to say that the US is a post-gender paradise, but the US, which has never had a woman president and is pretty slow about expanding military opportunities for women, nonetheless is a lot better on the gender equality front than some countries that have had women leaders and allow women a fuller range of military opportunities. There’s a lot more complexity to it than: My country respects military => military allows women => guess I’m going to stop being sexist

The same goes for something that isn’t about gender equality at large but how it relates to Tanya: The view that while gender equality may be non-advanced, Tanya specifically is exempt from dealing with it because she is “one of the boys”. It Does Not Work Like That. At All. And the further you go back in time, the less it worked like that. Within the military specifically Tanya will probably be alright, but society at large punishes men & women that break gender roles as brazenly as she does more than it rewards them. This is an entire essay unto itself, Google is your friend.

This is going to sound silly and facetious but I’m being dead serious, from what little we know of fashion in the YS world, it matches what would have been the case in the real world in the WW1 era. If society at large was really that different, that wouldn’t be the case.

There is no canon evidence that magic has made any scientific advancements outside the military sphere of influence. Before the advent of things like dishwashers, vacuums, microwaves, especially refrigerators, and especially laundry machines being common household items, the ideal family model was: one person makes money outside home, one person takes care of house. There wasn’t enough time in the day to work and run a household. Many women in poor households had to work, generally at the expense of being able to keep their own household running smoothly, and even then they often worked in capacities that allowed them to be at home or ones that allowed them the flexibility to take care of some of this stuff. It really just isn’t possible to have a society remotely approaching equality when one gender is automatically assigned to home unless necessary.

Same goes for something else - contraception. Women having access to a contraceptive device that they control is a major component of setting a society on a path towards equality. Birth control pills didn’t become widely available until the 1960s. Without being unable to at least kind of balance the outcome of sex (even between married couples) between men and women, women as a class have a hard time escaping from the housewife-mother archetype.

Not to get too political here, but the Empire matches OTL Germanic-Prussianness too much to ignore. Living under a military-worshipping, religiously-inclined traditional monarchy has not, in any real life example I’m aware of, gone hand-in-hand with anything other than a fairly conservative and patriarchal society, and I feel like the burden of proof is on the other side to explain why that isn’t the case in the Empire, and our original author makes approximately zero effort to do this.

Being X turns Tanya into a woman for the purpose of making her life worse. It seems simply illogical [although I guess Being X’s decision-making skills are questionable] that he would then drop her into a world that had undergone broad-based gender reform instead of a world that was just barely tweaked from our own in such a way that it would allow Tanya to serve in the military.

My conclusion: the most likely option is that gender equality is exactly enough better as it needs to be to allow the military to convince the lawmakers that they should be able to use a very rare & dangerous ability to be part of their arsenal without respect to gender, or age, and no more. That difference is not likely to make life for women significantly better than it was in the equivalent OTL time period.

#LN Reference

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krispydefendorpolice · 4 years

Text

The Demon’s Bride (7)

So Here’s the next chapter of Demon’s Bride. I’m gonna try to finish my ficlet the Miraculous Awakens and add an update to Miraculous Future before doing another Demon’s Bride update.

I’m also trying a new method of taglist. I love that people enjoy my story and want to be tagged but the list got really long really fast. (I think by the time I had the third chapter/first ficlet out it was a full list). Unfortunately this meant a lot of the readers who had longer comments about things they enjoyed or questions in the story (things that keep me motivated to write!) wouldn’t get a tag. So I’m redoing the taglist. Some will keep changing because except for a select few that got me started in the cursed Daminette ship (god I love you people) everyone is gonna be kind of flexible. Meaning your name might get bumped in the next update.

I do try to tag these stories with (The Demon’s Bride) and (The Betrothed AU) let me know if there’s another tag I can add to make finding them easier. Believe me I know the struggle of trying to find out if a writer has updated.

One person suggested I cross post on AO3 and since I finally got an account let me know what you think. Not just would you read it but would this story be something you would download to save a copy? I do that with all my favorite works on that site and would consider it to be the biggest of compliments.

Okay, thank you all for enjoying this story. Thank you for being patient while I work out my own tag list system. Enjoy the next chapter

Beginning Previous Next Masterpost

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The next morning the class ate breakfast in the hotel breakfast lounge. It was large enough that they could break into their two groups but not so large that Marinette’s group could ‘accidentally’ get left behind.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she listened to Lila continuing her stories from the day before about meeting the youngest Wayne and how ‘It was love at first sight’.

“Damian is just such a sweetheart. It nearly broke my heart to have to put our relationship on hold when mama got her assignment in Paris. But I am happy she did as I got to meet all of you. And now I have a chance to see my Damian again.”

Lila smiled slyly as she leaned closer to her slaves, “In fact, we have plans to see each other tonight. He’s going to take me on a romantic dinner date. If you can keep it a secret from Ms Bustier I’d be ever so grateful. I don’t think she’d like it if I did something by myself but I’ll just never have a chance like this again.”

Marinette had a feeling she’d strain a muscle at some point before the end of the trip, either from rolling her eyes too hard or from fighting back the urge to roll her eyes. She’d have to somehow arrange for Lila to be supervised if she actually made it out of the hotel and more than likely that duty would fall on her as her usual alternatives were in Paris.

A glance at Juleka showed that the girl was already anticipating Marinette’s thoughts and would be taking on the supervising (stalking, call it what it is) duty for Marinette. Fortunately, continued training and practice during Akuma attacks had refreshed skills instilled by the league to readiness in both girls.

“No worries girl. We got your back, unlike some people,” Alya said with a pointed glance at Marinette. Alya had blamed Marinette when her relationship with Nino fell apart and once Marinette had stopped responding to her phone messages Alya had made it her personal mission to blame the worlds evils upon Marinette.

Marinette ignored them and kept typing on her phone.

“You guys are so trustworthy. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” Lila smiled at them.

“Class finish up your meals we need to meet the bus outside in five minutes for us to head to the mall,” Ms Bustier called.

“Hey Nino, I forgot a jacket up in my room. I’ll catch you at the bus,” Marinette said nonchalantly as they cleaned up their dishes.

“You’re planning something,” he stated. A raised brow dared her to deny it.

“Not at all. Just have Markov do a recording would you?”

“Sure, sure. But you’re reporting this, not me.”

“Done,” Marinette agreed as she headed back to the elevators. On the ride up she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.

M: Meet me outside the hotel? I might need a ride.

D: Why? Are you safe?

M: I’m fine right now. But if things play out like they usually do I’m gonna need a ride

D: got it

Grabbing the bike jacket she’d left on her bed Marinette hurried outside the hotel. The bus’s engine was just starting to rev when she called out.

“Wait. I’m here,” she called and ran towards the bus.

It slowed for a moment before picking up speed and taking off. Marinette watched as it drove off and shook her head. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

“Bonjour Commandant,” she said cheerily before he did more than greet her.

He sighed, “What happened?”

“I might of made a stop in my hotel room this morning to get my jacket before meeting the rest of the class at the bus.”

“And you were left behind again?”

“I was left behind again,” she confirmed. “I was nearly at the bus and called out for them to wait. It started to slow but then took off again. There were open windows and Nino should have Max and Markov making another recording.”

“I’ll wait for the files. You know we’re going to have to report this when you return to Paris.”

“Absolutely. This is getting ridiculous and entirely too unprofessional of Ms. Boustier. If it were any other person getting left behind they could end up killed here in Gotham.”

“Do you need us to arrange transportation?”

“No thank you, I already did,” Marinette turned to look at the motorcycles that stopped next to her at the curb.

Damian lifted the visor on his helmet and looked at her. She smiled at him and finished her call.

She looked at the second bike and rider and back at Damian.

Damian held out a second helmet to her and explained. “My father and brother’s aren’t entirely comfortable with me being alone and unsupervised with someone from the League. Todd volunteered to chaperone today.”

Marinette took the helmet and sat on the back of his bike. “Had many run-ins with Leaguer’s?”

“Too many,” Damian admitted. As soon as Marinette wrapped her arms around his waist and told him the class’s destination he took off.

Marinette smiled as she sat behind him on the bike and let herself fall into old patterns of trusting him to get them where they needed to go. Within minutes they pulled up alongside the bus. Marinette grinned as she asked him to rev the engine and get the class’s attention.

When several faces turned to the window Marinette lifted her visor and waved at the class. Just as she was laughing at their shocked faces the lights changed and Damian took off again with her laughter trailing behind them.

************************

Jason followed behind Damian and watched as Demon Spawn pulled up next to the bus before the girl waved at the class whose attention they had gotten. When Damian took off again he had to watch as the two moved together as they wove through traffic. What surprised Jason more was Damian never turned to check the cars behind him. Instead he watched as the girl would do checks and then Damian would move. Damian trusted her to watch their backs.

They seemed to have a system down and had seemlessly fallen back into it. Like they had ridden together before? But they couldn’t have. Damian came to Bruce at 10 years old. The girl had to be about the same age so how...?

Jason let the thought go as they pulled up to Gotham Mall. Damian parked near the main entrance the class would have to go through after parking the bike and let Marinette off first. He and Jason followed suit before locking their bikes and the helmets up and waited for the class to catch up.

“So Pixie-pop, you know Demon Spawn from the League?”

Most people would say Jason didn’t know how to use tact but most people were also idiots. Sometimes when you did things blatantly and unexpectedly you would get more honest answers from others.

Marinette glanced at Damian and then turned to Jason when he nodded. “I’ve known Damian most of my life in the League.”

Jason looked at her. The answer was factual but there was undertone of meanings behind it that he was missing.

“He mentioned the League was divided into factions? Divisions?” He fumbled his question and waited to see how she would respond.

Marinette turned to Damian and spoke in a language he didn’t know. It wasn’t English, French, Japanese or Chinese which he’d learned from Bruce and Alfred before his death. Nor was it Arabic, Russian, or German, which Talia had forced him to learn after his resurrection. The closest he could compare it to was Chinese but it had a different cadence, intonations, sounds, everything really so it was completely not understandable to him.

When Damian responded in the same language Jason was less shocked. He just waited for the two of them to finish.

Marinette nodded before turning back to Jason, “The word you were looking for was designations and yes Damian and I both had one. Most trainees are given one by the end of the first year of training though it can be changed if a particular aptitude is discovered. Or if they lose enough standing with the League.”

Her eyes were a little darker, a little sadder at the mention of losing rank within the League.

“Ah,” Jason nodded and looked at Damian, “you didn’t mention you had a designation last night.”

“TT, I didn’t think to mention it last night. My designation was the Demon’s Right Hand. The heir of the Demon.”

“Makes sense since you were Ras grandson,” Jason admitted.

Marinette snorted, “the old Demon had at least five grandchildren, though no one’s sure if his son had any children so there could be more out there. And Damian was the third born. Nothing the Demon ever did made sense.”

Jason was startled. No one knew that Damian had other siblings, blood-siblings, since he’d made it sound like his trainee group were like his only brothers and sisters.

“Grandfather insisted that only the best could succeed him. Even from my early trainee days my brother’s knew I could take their inheritance from them if I was better than they were. Our rivalry,” and boy was that a loaded idea, “was actively encouraged and the only way it could end was with the deaths of our competition.” Damian grimaced at that.

“Hey, Ali wasn’t so bad. He loved his big brother.” Marinette bumped Damian’s shoulder, trying to distract him.

“Ali loved his big sister,” Damian tapped a finger on Marinette’s nose, “who got her mother to take in the kid when he began his training and gave him family. Just like his big brother.”

Marinette smiled fondly. “He’s a good kid. Did you know Talia has him doing some PR as they’re ‘rebranding’ the League? I think the American, Luthor, has done that a few times.”

Damian quirked a brow.

“He’s shown up in Paris a time or two. Mostly as PR attempts to promote ‘acts of charity’ or such. My class actually ran into him a few years ago. He made a friend with one of the girls in my class. We pass messages through her when we can,” Marinette nodded to herself, “but it’s been harder to do with the tension between my classmates.”

Before Jason could ask anymore questions the bus with her classmates in it pulled into the Mall parking lot. Strangely another car seemed to be following behind it.

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Cliffhanger!!!!

Permanent tags: @mindfulmagics @ozmav @bluerosette23 @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @northernbluetongue

@fertileleaf @evil-elf16 @scribblinggraveyard @mellownieice @mystery-5-5 @indecisive-mess-named-me @sonif50 @tog84 @g-arya @legendaryneckjudgestudent @tbehartoo @ravennightingaleandavatempus @zebrabaker @autisticlinx @moonyloonyx @hinata3487 @evil-elf16 @mooshoon @shamefullove @pepelachanel @queenmj10 @bluefyoto94 @valeks-princess @luciferge @novicevoice @vivilakitty @2sunchild2 @littleredrobinhoodlum @black-streak @interobanginyourmom @crazylittlemunchkin @alwaysnumberonetruth @nataladriana9 @that-feeling-wyn @motherly-type @jardimazul @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @peachedpocky @thesunanditsangel @daminett4life @risingmoonyue @dorkus-minimus @tired-butterfly @alenee13

Can’t find a blog: @fusser90

Okay, tag list capped out as I was scrolling back through comments on ch. 5 but the taglist is flexible anyways at this point. I have plans to update the Miraculous Awakens prologue and the Miraculous Future chapters this week. Please vote which you would like to see first. I’m hoping to get the first update posted either Wednesday or Thursday nights. (Though sadly I am suuuuuper flexible with my posting schedule. Basically I post whenever I have a chapter ready). Also i plan to wind up the Once Upon A Miraculous epilogue next weekend so that’s three chapters I’ll need to be toying with this week.

#The Demon’s Bride #Betrothed AU #daminette #maribat #marinette x damian #DLDR #dead dove don’t eat

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glitterytidalwavedragon · 3 years

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Putting it Out There (A Biracial Child)

I’ve always wanted to address this, I just never knew where or how to. But, as I write, I see the influences come into play more and more (More so when I am writing my B.B fanfic and the Tourist), so I thought, now is a good time as any and this is the only account and platform I feel safe (maybe because I don’t have 200+ friends or followers here who know me outside of social media). I also feel as if this prospective of life isn’t given much attention or heard.

I, as some may know cause I had commented as such, am a biracial child. My father is a Caribbean Hispanic male and my mother of German and Italian descent.

This does not mean I have the best of both worlds. In fact, most of the times I feel alienated.

Born in the early 90′s, the song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin was every where. My mother would tell me that song was about me, now I was 5-6ish. I thought she referred to me liking cats, and trying to go out to perform a crap version of ‘Singing in the Rain’ along with the love for magic.

No, it wasn’t so innocent. It was straight up because of my skin tone. I looked like the girl the song was describing. I had no idea. Nor did I realize a silent war was raging in my family.

Growing up was...hard to say the least. It is even harder when you have racism on both sides pointing fingers at each other. On my mother’s side, my aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow me to visit unless it was a holiday to which there was pressure from the family. Out of spite, they would invite my much older siblings father over to cause a fight (The man did not celebrate christmas). Meanwhile my other aunt would tell me over and over again I was Italian. In the end, during these events I would end up alone and not know why.

Now lets turn to the other side of the family, my father’s. My first words had been Spanish. Yet, I lived with English speaking relatives... guess who stopped speaking Spanish for a long while. When visiting my family on his side, none of of my relatives would address me, only if they had to because my father was not around. These people knew how to speak English, very well even though they had moved from their native island. They just refused to speak to me. This sucked cause where it was 3 people on my mother’s side, it was 16 aunt’s and uncles on my fathers not counting the dozens of cousins I had. So, as the other family events, I ended up alone not knowing why.

The answer was rather simple but much to complicated for my child self. Both sides of my family was and still is completely racist. My white mother was near exiled for being with a man many would consider black (he considers himself Spanish and oddly doesn’t get the fascination on why his skin matters or makes me worry about him when he is stopped by cops...). I was the ‘mixed’ baby, a simple of her family’s shame.

My father’s side could not care what color my mother was, only that she was not Spanish. For those who don’t know, Spanish can be an array of color, its cool. But, she was no Spanish, did not speak Spanish and therefore my father was exiled by everyone but his own mother for many years (which is why we ended up in family events, my mama wanted to see her youngest grandchild by her baby boy). This meant being put at the back table, being openly mocked, and never told of big family events like babies or weddings.

This only lead to more fighting at home and in the end even my own siblings, alienated me. It was a pretty lonely experience.

This carried on to school and friendships. Elementary was not fun, but I felt the effects more in Jr. and High school. In elementary I was grouped with the other Spanish kids, because starting in late summer I had my Spanish tan on and therefore, I was not white to other white kids. But I did not speak Spanish. At one point I spoke gibberish to just to be able to hang with the Spanish kids at recess. It worked and I still don’t know how.

In Jr. ahhhh... at one point my family was making good money, which originally, it once took the income of five adults to keep us afloat, now it just took 2. My father and my grandpa (who I will talk about later). We moved to a ‘nicer’ neighborhood. In the early 2000′s that mean, a white neighborhood. Boy, did I stick out.

Now you might think “But you grew up in NYC, said you were from Brooklyn” well, here is a fun fact. Nothing is more segregated than NYC schools. The north did not do busing like the south did, so white schools stayed mostly white while schools in low income areas stayed mostly black or other minority races. I was a very tan child going into a white neighbor hood to a white school. Lets top it off that I played video games and Yu-Gi-Oh, HA!

I received hell. I had legit parents sneer at me, and girls asking me if I had sex because I was Spanish. A 12 year old, got hit on by 15 year olds because they thought my race made me easy. I was 12, all I wanted was to collect cards and play Pokemon on my stupid advance, I had no time for boys unless they were anime. But... someone (more than likely their parents) had set these ideas in their head on how Spanish people, more so girls, acted.

Then I realized, I really liked all things Gothic. A Spanish Goth.... it pains me to think about it. Everything from poser, to faker, and ‘trying to act white’ was laid on me. I could not wait for Jr. High to end. And when it did, a whole 180 happen.

I was no longer Spanish. I did not know why, just everyone referred to me as ‘the ONLY white girl’ in the school and that is not a joke. My school, was dubbed the worse in all of Brooklyn and shut down, which I believe it was dubbed that because of the 1% white population... I was the 1 after my second year when the other white kid (who was a boy people asked was my boyfriend) graduated. Now, in high school it wasn’t the kids who gave me hell. It was the teachers.

In fact, high school led me to meet others who were also feeling alienated. One of which I am very close to, a black man who is Jewish (adopted by a white couple) and gay. He did not where he belonged either. In the mid-00′s to be a black gay man living near the ghetto was dangerous. I can’t count how many times he had to hide who he was so he wouldn’t get shot. Nor could I count how many times my other friend coped with being a biracial black man who loved anime and being goth so much he was bullied for it when we weren’t together (who I ended up dating throughout high school).

Suddenly being labelled white get me an acceptance I was not expecting. I ended up being popular against my best efforts and people who I did not know knew me. At 15 I did not get what had changed, because no one had told me yet. No, I figured it out at 16, when I was placed in senior English because of my grades. My English teacher told me, I was white, in the worse why I could ever imagine.

My English teacher, a beautiful black woman who celebrated her African roots, gave an assignment one day. I was one out of five in a class of thirty who did it, because I did it in her class the day before. I played sports, so did half the other kids, I did not have time after school. This did not sit well with her, she was mad, which was an understatement. So, she turned to the class and said

“This is why our people end up in Jail or having babies to early. Because like black people don’t take education seriously.” Then called be out by name and continued “is why she will end up being successful, because white people know the importance of an education.”

First off, she was very racist towards EVERYONE, second I at 16, who was always called Spanish in school was now labelled white in front of everyone by an adult. I was both confused and terrified as my boyfriend who knew my family cared JACK SHIT about education looked ready to kill her. Luckily, he just walked out of class and waited for me as I was too studded to move.

I later asked him if he thought I was white, he admitted he did until he saw my father and called me biracial. For the first time in 16 years, I had been called biracial. Went home, did not tell anyone what happened, asked my mother if I was biracial and she said yes. To shorten this up, this was what life felt like,

At home, I had no race. Neither side welcomed me.

In school, I was told I was Spanish and had to fake my way in the Spanish group.

Jr High, I am now trying to distance myself from everyone as being Spanish makes me a target.

High School, I thought being Spanish would be a good thing. Now everyone is telling me I am white.

I had not idea who or what I was.

All I ever wanted was to be me. I wanted to understand why my family never got close to me, and I wanted friends who were friends because I was me.

It was like I was being ripped to pieces. I could be what others wanted or be no one at all. I had no idea what to do. If people at the new school found out I was Spanish, would I become a target again? I was allowed to freely play games, watch anime, and be my gothic self if I were white. But that also meant I could not hang out with my friends who lived in the Ghetto, shouldn’t like rap, R&B, and reggaetón or use the slang I grew up always using.

To be a Spanish person trying to be white

A white person trying to be black/another minority of color.

I had watched as the former got my friend (boyfriend at the time) kicked out of classrooms as he was compared to those involved in columbine shooting from teachers since he was different. Also the hell he received from other boys for cosplaying and playing anime based card games. At one point it was so rough he thought about dropping out and I begged him to stay along with his mother. I was so afraid of going through that again.

So I kept my mouth shut.

I took on the military standard of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. My father never came to the school because he worked so much so no one knew. Everyday, I just took what my English teacher said to be without any force back. When Obama was voted in, she told me I had no right to celebrate, that my people had JFK and that Obama was for all the minorities to celebrate. I fell into a dark hole of hating myself. My home life was awful and now school I had to pretend to be something I wasn’t comfortable with. I started ditching classes, got into more fights than I would care to admit, did some really shady stuff and began hurting myself.

The only joy I got was when I busted my ass grades wise and got out of school six months early. I did not have to go to school anymore and I could lock myself away to be no one but myself. It was lonely but I found company in books and my art. Through art I was allowed to be me and no one could take that away.

When I returned for Graduation I June, did I get the final laugh on that English bitch. My mother and father showed up, she asked if my father was a cab driver helping my mother as she had gone blind. I told her, rather happily, that was my father. She went from joy to sheer disgusts faster than you can blink. For years she kept talking about who ‘mix babies’ never got any where as their fathers were never around. Yet, despite me hardly showing up, I gradated top of my class, never had a baby nor was I ‘loose’ (In fact I feared sex as a teenager), and my mixed couple parents as she lovingly called it, were together.

She walked away from me and never said a word since.

But now school was over, college was starting. I still hadn’t figured out who I was. Was I white/Italian or Spanish. In college I learnt no one was going to tell me who I was anymore, nor did they care. At home, it was still a battle of the races. Finally, one of my cousins spoke up and declared I wasn’t Spanish as I knew nothing of the language. At home, my aunt and uncle decided I was Spanish and called me a ‘Spick’ as a joke. I did not take it as one and therefore I was called ‘uptight’.

My siblings also informed me, if I wanted free college to put down Spanish on everything unless it was the census. Then I should be white. Sometimes I still run into people who think I am one over the other. I had people come up to be speaking Spanish to be highly offended when I tell them I don’t speak the Language well. (I tried learning but it is hard when motivation is not there).

In recent years, I had someone at work tell me how they met a Spanish person, shockingly where my father works, and then described in detail my father and then tell me they thought he was illegal since he looked the type. All because they thought I was white... proud to say that person got fired for being racist.I did also inform them that was my father to their response was “you’re one of them”.

It never ends.

No, the reason why I haven’t been driven insane is because of my late grandpa. My grandpa was a man I adopted to be my grandfather. My biological grandfathers on both sides died long before I was born and the man I adopted was close to the family and acted like a father to my parents. He was a good man and the reason I had a childhood.

He once went through the same, Italian/Jewish, you wouldn’t think there would be a problem but when he was growing up that equaled Catholic/Jewish, to which he too was either pinned in the middle or rejected by both sides, this is the 1930′s-1940s. He gave me the best piece of advance ever.

To be myself.

That if I were myself, then it did not matter. The moment I stopped being who I am, that passing or faking would never tell me who my real friends were. That if he, could love me for who I was, a weird girl who liked boy things and drawing strange looking characters, then anyone else could. Being a stranger to myself would never bring happiness. So, after years of not listening to that, I finally decided to listen to my Grandpa.

I know who I am, I know the history of my families. They might not like that I am not what they want me to be, but they don’t have to live with me. I have to live with who I am. My friends are my friends because they know who I am, not who they think I should be.

So for all my biracial brothers, sisters and them’s, be yourself. Don’t try to force yourself into a mold, it isn’t worth it. None of it is worth it.

Look yourself in the mirror and say your name. Say it loud and let everyone know they can not define who you are, and so what if they say you don’t belong, guess what? You do if you want. You belong because YOU say so, because that blood runs in your veins as well as theirs. So you get to make that choice!

Make that choice of being you! Define yourself to YOUR standards.

Don’t let anyone take that away. I know I won’t.

So here I see myself! A strange fox who changes coats with the seasons, that loves anime and video games, who plays Yu-Gi-Oh and listens to opera and Metal while can twerk and get low to Daddy Yankee! Who eats sushi and makes a mean chicken cutlet but can also make the best empanda with beans and rice with the rest of them!

And no one can take that from me.

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basia2002ib · 3 years

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Profile & summary of my CAS

Learning outcomes

All in all I can say I achieved all learning outcomes.

1. I identified own strengths and developed areas for growth. I got involved in activities that based on my prevailing skills but opened new ways to develop. Language can be deepened without limits; although I have got a certified C2 level in German I can still develop my skills and I continued to do so throughout my CAS.

2. I have undertaken a range of challenges, for instance passing a C2 exam in German seemed outlandish at first but then I got used to the idea and focused all my efforts to pursuing this goal. And I did it, even though it might seem abstract. I wanted to challenge myself to spice up my life a little bit and grow personally from the process. Now I can see a difference - my German language skills developed to such degree that when I am reading literature in German now I see an immense difference - now I can easily spot nuances and extract the deep meaning.

3. I initiated and planned CAS experiences thoroughly. I am a pragmatic person who tends to stick to the plan because it gives direction. CAS stages came naturally to me, I did not have to force them because they are inherent parts of planning process. My intellectual challenges undertaken in German - 2 competition and one language certificate required detailed planning for adequate preparation. Also my internship in the foundation required planning and time-management skills as I had to combine it with my various initiatives and rigorous IB programme. CAS stages were useful to plan my CAS project as well - I was in MUN staff, which means I coorganized WawMUN 2019.

4. Commitment and perseverance are prerequisite for success. I understand it therefore in every action I take these factors resonate. Otherwise I would accomplish my goals such as honours in German, I would not be able to play volleyball in the first-line up or I would not fulfill my demanding duties throughout my internship effectively. These are only examples of actions where I used my commitment and perseverance to succeed.

5. I saw benefits of working collaboratively during the WawMUN 2019 conference, which I organized as my CAS project but also in my internship in the foundation and my service as a student goverment vice president. In the student government we need to rely on one another and have each other’s back. We do share responsibilities to make sure nothing is neglected. We help each other and in case of emergency may replace one another either during a debate or while discussing issues with the head mistress. Throughout my internship I served as an assistant therefore I needed to adjust to the current responsibilities. I was instructed by more experienced employees all the way and assigned tasks. WawMUN conference is the biggest MUN in Poland therefore the organization process is complicated and required the division of tasks. If we did not trust each other and if we did not share responsibilities, the effect would not be so spectacular. The results showed the benefits of the team work from its best side.

6. I engaged with issues of gloabl significance throughout my CAS project which was co-organizing the MUN conference. Practising debating skills is crucial in today’s world and new generations of politicians have a chance to challenge their capabilities on the conference. The topics discussed in individual commitees touched upon issues of global significance. It is great to give my peers a chance to gain skills, delve into controversial subjects and defend their position. Some of them would probably pursue politics further in life; MUN conferences are truly inspirational in this respect.

7. One of the ethical issues I adressed during my activity as a student government vice president was the animal consumption. To relieve the environment, make my own step to reduce cruelty against animals, at least at the local level, I negotiated with the canteen supervisor to introduce vegan food. Unfortunately it was not possible to serve vegan dinners because of technical diffuculties but vegan sandwiches appeared in the canteen soon after our proposal. This is the way to satisfy needs of people on a plant-based diet but also a way to promote environmentally friendly food, with no associated cruelty.

Creativity

I love literature and foreign languages. Throughout my CAS, I combine this two effectively to follow both of my passions simultaneously. I read and write a lot in German and do far beyond what is required in my school. My goals in German are wide-ranging and not confined to my German B classes, but I challenged myslef to take part in competition and to read German literature. Once I have read “The Sorrows of Young Werther”, “Faust”, “The Visit”, “The Trial” in original and it commenced my relationship with German literature. I was captivated by it to such extent that I made a German classic “The Magic Mountain” the center of my Extended Essay. I also chose “The Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka to use in my oral exam. Thomas Mann and Franz Kafka are one of my favourite writers of all time and they allow me to trace different nuances of German language. Close analysis of these works of art should involve in my opinion delving into the original work. A valuable experience might be to compare it with the translation, which I did throughout my independent study.

My tangible achievements in German (the evidence for my skills) were: a C2 certificate in German, a disitinction in the translation contest “Juvenes Translatores” organized by the European Commision and a finalist title in the National German Olympiad. I reached my aforementioned goals in 2020. They involved CAS stages. 1. I investigated the area I wanted to deepen my skills in and specific aims I wanted to pursue and these were competitions in German. 2. I prepared my strategy, researched the most respectable competitions and exams I wanted to take part in, signed up for them and planned preparation which was necessary because of huge amounts of school work and limited free time. 3. I took specific action, exposed myself to the language days before the exam and throughout multiple months I was doing practice papers, reading and watching a lot. 4. I realized that by pursuing my passion in German and going beyond the curriculum I freed myself and could really delve into the language. The experience provided me with the sense of purpose - my life was not only concerned with my Diploma syllabus but I could get acquainted with literature and recognized the power of translation in terms of its strong influence on the reception of foreign texts.

From then onward I worked to maintain my German on the same high level. I should not take it for granted - I am not a native speaker. My accomplishements required huge amounts of work and also talent but might disappear if not cared for properly.

Activity

In the course of my CAS journey I have been active in many disciplines. Sport is one of my few ways to unwind and stop stressing about reality. I think that the limited possibilities to practice sport were one of the major obstacles during the pandemic. I was deprived of my only way to switch off and relax. Before the pandemic I used to swim and play volleyball in a school team every week plus I attended 3 Physical Education classes per week. Now my prefered activities are not possible to pursue because of lockdown which entailed school, sport halls and swimming pool closures. Moreover I am concerned with the virus. At the start of 2020 we managed to take the fouth place in district-wide volleyball competition. My team and I wanted to improve next year but the pandemic unexpectedly shattered my plans. I am grateful, however, for having been given a chance to represent my school in the first line-up. Moreover, I would attend volleyball practice every Saturday.

My PE classes give me a chance to play volleyball, football or do fitness. I enjoy almost every activity that is physically demanding. And I am also great in sport which boosts my motivation. Beyond school, I used to exert myself a lot in swimming and have difficulties to find enjoyment in it. However, I am a really good swimmer and it strengthens my determination, improves posture and health.

Throughout the pandemic, I have been practising sport independently, as it is an extremely important part of my life. However, in the first lockdown in the spring I used to overexert myself doing long and intensive workouts every day on an empty stomach to the point when I got health problems. I had to give it up and switched to another physical activity, less demanding but equally fun: walking. Never before have I taken walks so often as during the pandemic. Now, in the winter lockdown I also go for a walk sometimes.

Service

I began my CAS journey in 2019 with giving tutoring to a primary school student from a underprivileged background. Teaching subjects I am comfortable in (English and German) and his improved grades were reasons for my satisfaction. It required a lot of patience and perseverance as it was extremely difficult to teach him something because firstly he lacked motivation and secondly he had difficulties memorizing. This made it a huge challenge but turned out to be rewarding.

The second half of my first IB year (2020) I sacrificed for my internship (voluntary work) in a foundation. My scope of activity consisted in the cooperation with the Fundraising Director and the Spokeswoman of the foundation; I had duties related to fundraising and media such as: preparing summaries of the reports from humanitarian missions for fairs in Dubai, translating posts for English social media profiles, collecting data for media reports, translating official requests for the sponsorship, gathering contact details of potential sponsors i.e. big companies and Presidents of the biggest Polish cities, monitoring press mentions.

Throughout 2020 I have also been fulfilling duties of the student government vice president. My team was elected in February 2020 and until now (beginning of 2021) I hold this position. I resolve current problems with the head mistress, co-organize and participate in events e.g. open days, control social media, coordinate logistics. In March we attended an event for student governments across Warsaw. I also tried to organize the Physics conference with my 2 friends in my school but it was cancelled last-minute due to imposed school closure, one week before it was scheduled to take place. Everything had been arranged with lecturers and we had to cancel feeling miserable.

My wide range of CAS activities - other examples

Apart from my core activities which I described, I got involved in numerous other CAS experienced described on this blog. One of the most enriching ones was my participation in the process of creation of a book. I wrote my own essay to a book published this month by my former class teacher. I entitled my work: “School is people: about sparking authenticity and breaking patterns”. I also cooked a lot and published some of my recipes on the blog, wrote to my school newspaper, took part in environmental protests, wrote some poems, some diary entry, practiced Frech, including writing, took many beautiful photos on my trips abroad,...

I also co-organized WawMUN2019 conference as my CAS project.

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wolfhuntsmoon · 5 years

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Sarah Rogers and how Steve inherited ‘stubborn little shit’ from the womb

Okay, so I was noodling on Sarah after reading her Marvel wiki and some extraordinarily good posts about how EG Steve should have gone back to see his mum instead of Peggy etc and the timings of Steve’s early story struck me as... interesting.

Steve is born on 4th July 1918, before the end of WWI, meaning he would have been conceived in September or October of 1917 - that is, if he was born on time or only a few weeks premature. Which, given the tech and prognosis for preemies in the early 20th century, must have been the case because things were grim enough even if you weren’t born prematurely, for both baby and mother. If you were giving birth, you had a 6% chance of dying in Ireland in this period - roughly comparable with the rest of Europe but shockingly high by our standards. The odds were better if you were rich, but not by that much. Childbirth remained the leading cause of death for women worldwide until the late 1940s, remember. And kids fared no better. One in five children born in Dublin in this period died before their 5th birthday. Again, the figures would be better or worse depending on how well off you were, but even the richest still suffered appalling infant mortality rates.

Anyway, depressing history of women’s health aside, this means that Joseph Rogers, American solider, and her, must have been doing the do about then, and probably seeing each other on the regular before that, because believe you me, casual sex in the early 20th century was a big no no. Not to say it didn’t happen, but usually only via prostitution ESPECIALLY in Ireland, because the Catholic Church ruled supreme there even more than the British did and contact between the sexes was very restricted and frowned upon. Sex ed was nonexistent, and women knew that even a whiff of scandal about them was enough to ruin them, their entire family, and the rest of their life. It’s a hackneyed joke because it’s true: Ireland is small and everyone knows everyone. You would get found out and then suffer the consequences - sent to a mother and baby home if you were lucky, and those places were worse than prisons sometimes. That cultural context would carry over even if Sarah wasn’t actually in Ireland at the time.

So, likely they were married by then, because again: social ruin. The Marvel wiki says they were married, but not when. (I know nothing about the comics, I’m sorry) Soldiers and their sweethearts often married very quickly, and there are actually quite a few accounts of nurses falling in love and marrying the soldiers they tended. (More on this later) However, if she was widowed and could have the child respectably, why not return to Ireland? With, presumably, a support network that makes emigrating to America a worse, not better, prospect? This is the crux of my theory: Sarah Rogers was seen as an unmarried mother, and treated as such, because she married Joseph abroad, probably without permission, and when he died, had no social proof of the marriage. And in those days, unmarried mothers either: aborted in secret, had the baby concealed by the church where they were then taken and given up for adoption, or were cast out with nothing and ostracised if they decided to keep the baby. Sarah ending up in America strikes me as her taking the third option, and indeed the only option she could, to keep her baby.

But first: Joseph and Sarah need to meet in order to get down and dirty. How? He’s an American soldier who would never have set foot in Ireland in WWI - the British government kept their troops there, obviously, but the Americans were all put straight onto the continent or mainland Britain once they crossed the Atlantic from 1917 onwards (remember the US only joined in WWI in April 1917). In fact, the US wasn’t able to send significant numbers of troops to Europe until the following spring of 1918, because their army was so small and outmoded for trench warfare they basically had to send a lot of stuff over until they had enough trained bodies, which took about a year to organise. Based on this, if Joseph and Sarah were making baby Steve in September 1917, Joseph must have been in the regular US army before it entered the war, and likely in for quite a long time and experienced, to be sent over so soon. That experience would have been invaluable, meaning he never would have been assigned to stay in Ireland even if the US did send troops there. He would have been deployed straight onto the battlefield.

In which case, if Joseph never sets foot in Ireland, then how does he meet Sarah? Well, we’re told she’s a qualified nurse, and that was a solidly middle class job back then. You needed to have a good education, beyond primary level (which was all that was free for kids back then - you had to pay for secondary or tertiary level) and speak English well. In addition to that, your training to be a nurse took three years, and you weren’t paid or funded at all for those. So I don’t buy the theories that she emigrated to America only speaking Irish and totally penniless. Sarah most likely came from quite a well off family to become a nurse, although it’s not impossible she rose from much humbler circumstances as there were a number of scholarships and the like for the deserving poor set up by rich upper class ladies bored out of their minds drinking endless teas in salons who liked to do things like Help the Poor but only if they’re Pure and Mannerly. Qualified nurses were paid about £40/year in WWI by the British government, when your average domestic maid would have been earning about £20/year - quite a big difference.

Either way, Sarah, as a nurse, was exactly the kind of woman the British government was desperate to recruit by 1915-1916 when the true scale of modern attritional warfare became clear, and no longer pussyfooted around keeping women and their delicate sensibilities away from the battlefield. The Battle of the Somme between July-Nov 1916, for example, claimed the lives of over 20,000 British soldiers ON THE FIRST DAY. The British alone sustained over a million casualties (dead, missing or wounded) across the whole battle. They couldn’t afford to stay prudish. There were just too many casualties to deal with. They even opened up medical degrees to women without restrictions because they were so desperate! Which was a big part of the reason why Britiain introduced conscription for the first time in 1916, including in Ireland (which led to the Easter Rising and Irish War of Independence, hoo boy was that a mistake). Droves and droves of young women were recruited to fill all sorts of jobs while the men were away, but a large number also went overseas to the battlefields of Belgium and France. Sarah must have been one of them. If she was qualified beforehand, she would most likely have been sent to work in a field hospital abroad, because the voluntary members were mostly kept working as assistants on the British mainland. Lots of women joined these Voluntary Aid Detachments (VADs) at the start of the war to nurse wounded soldiers, but the military hated the idea of using them until they couldn’t cope in 1915. Even then, volunteers were only used for the more menial tasks. Professionals like Sarah were what was needed the most.

Now, I’ve said that she likely came from a middle class family, so money probably wasn’t a worry until after she got to America, later on. Why go, given the pay wasn’t significantly more than you’d earn as a nurse at home? Well, the rigid social hierarchy of the time broke down in some pretty major ways out there, and it was likely the only chance an unmarried woman would ever get to travel that wouldn’t immediately ruin her reputation. And if you accept more the idea she became a nurse via scholarship and was poor, the increase in pay working abroad would have been sorely appreciated. And we can also consider patriotism might play a role - not all Irish were rabidly anti-British before 1916. Indeed, many ordinary and middle class Irish only became ardently nationalist in the wake of the brutal repression following the 1916 Easter Rising. And more than that, many Irish, even if they disliked the British, disliked the idea of the Germans and Austrians-Hungarians winning the war even more. Personally, I think Sarah was an adventurer who seized her chance to escape the restrictive social confines of Ireland and didn’t once look back, even if her family disapproved.

I couldn’t find a birthdate for Sarah, or a maiden name to tell me where she might have hailed from (thanks, Marvel. Not.) But let’s say she was part of that first initial wave of volunteers who signed up in 1914 - because it was HUGE. It’s really difficult for us, so jaded now, to get into the mindset of people then, but they did sign up in huge numbers. Partly due to patriotism, partly because they thought the war would be over by Christmas, partly fear of being shamed for not ‘doing their bit’ - there were lots of reasons. But it’s very telling that the British government didn’t feel the need to introduce conscription for men until two years after the war broke out, and they never introduced a civilian equivalent. So Sarah would have been very familiar with the horrors of the battlefield and the war by the time fresh faced Joseph Rogers arrives on the scene in 1917.

How did they meet? Sarah would have most likely been working in a field hospital, overseeing a team of volunteers. Field hospitals were behind the front lines, but only by a few miles, and nurses were killed by enemy shelling and gas attacks. They were the first real point of medical care most soldiers would encounter after having bandages slapped on them at a dressing station in the trenches, before being carted off to the field hospital (if they survived the journey) by stretcher bearers, horses, or increasingly as the war continued, motorised ambulances. So Sarah and her ilk were lasses made of steel, honest to god. They were in the thick of the worst of it, men screaming and dying, and often afraid for their lives while they tried to care for them. A lot of those nurses developed PTSD (then called shell-shock) as a result. Jospeh is most likely to have met her if he was a wounded patient of hers brought in from the battlefield. But only lightly wounded - if he had been badly wounded he would have been shipped straight back to mainland Britain to convalesce as soon as he was stabilised, thwarting any budding romance.

We’re also told that Jospeh dies in a mustard gas attack. So this hospital trip must have been for something different - a broken bone perhaps, or a minor shrapnel wound that would see him off duty for a while but still stationed in the area and therefore able to court Sarah. Young people (Sarah must have been less than 28 because that was the cut off age for nurses to be recruited in 1915-1916) being young people, I imagine they fell in love, fell in to bed, and biology did its magic. The timescale on this is open to interpretation, because the ABSOLUTE earliest they could have met is May 1917 (travel time by ship from America to Europe took weeks during the war), and Steve must have been conceived by October, latest. Which is a pretty whirlwind romance, but not unusual for the time. The Germans first used mustard gas from July of 1917, but Joseph must survive up until September/October.

So, that cause of death as mustard gas? This is strange given how mustard gas was well known at the time to be the ‘best’ gas to have inflicted on you. It produced horrific blisters and burns, particularly on the inside of your throat and airways, but rarely killed. Chlorine and phosgene were MUCH deadlier. So Marvel saying this is more poor research, but let’s go with it - gas affecting you would make it that much more likely you’d be caught by machine gun or shellfire or any of the other myriad ways to die on a WWI battlefield. Here’s where things start to align quite nicely (well, badly for Sarah, but good for fic writers) as mustard gas was deployed by the Germans on a large scale between October 9th-12th to defend the Passchadaele Ridge from a joint British and French assault on the German defences. This was part of the second biggest battle of WWI, the Battle of Passchendaele, notorious for the seas of mud men had to slog through up to their waists, and one of the battles which, like the Somme, gave WWI generals such bad reputations. In three months the British lost 350,000 men and advanced just a few kilometres. They abandoned the battle on November 10th.

So, Joseph Rogers? Must have died between October 9-12th, well before Sarah realised she was pregnant even if Steve was conceived at the start of September. Likely he was caught in a mustard attack, started choking because he couldn’t get his gas mask on/hadn’t got it fitted properly, and then was killed by gun or shellfire after his initial injury. Mustard gas took time to affect the skin and membranes of the body, so if he fell while the gas was still around, it would have looked much worse by the time his body was identified and retrieved from the battlefield. The date, however, means Joseph died never knowing he was going to be a father (sad!), and Sarah, newly widowed, likely didn’t see any reason not to continue working as a distraction until she encountered the first signs of preganancy. The stiff upper lip thing was a real coping mechanism back then. She would have been kicked out as soon as anyone could tell, or she told them and got kicked out, because that was legal and expected then. Pregnant women were fired for being pregnant in any job, and the idea of a pregnant woman working in a theatre of war, as you can imagine, would have outraged everyone.

So, Sarah gets kicked out, has no job. She’s widowed and pregnant. But, the marriage would probably have taken place without her family’s permission (letters were pretty slow and heavily censored on the front lines, the timeframe likely wouldn’t allow for anything except a note telling them she married) and although she would have had a marriage certificate, turning up at home without a husband but with a baby from a military camp? Would have been a deep, deep scandal at the time. Particularly if Sarah came from a middle class family who would have been extremely conscious of their social position and the danger she and her baby posed to it. Catholic mores plus unsanctioned marriage plus Irish social structures equals daughter returning in disgrace to besmirch the family name in a way that is literally unthinkable at the time. Family therefore issues an ultimatum - come back and get rid of the baby and the marriage cert so you can be respectable, or don’t come back at all. I really cannot stress this enough - families would, and did, prefer to say the woman had died and never have any contact with them again, rather than accept an unmarried mother back into their house.

Sarah, being Sarah though, grits her teeth, spits in God’s eye, and packs her bags for the first steamship to New York. She was a lot better equipped than most to make the journey, with some savings from her salary and a profession she could rely on once she arrived. But it was still a recklessly brave thing to do because at this point in time the ENTIRE Atlantic was infested with German U-Boats who were doing their level best to sink any Allied or Allied associated ship they could get in their periscope sights. And they were terrifyingly effective in 1917, although by the end of the year when Sarah would have beeen sailing, countermeasures like the convoy system had greatly reduced this. But still scary as fuck, because by that point the German U-Boats were even sinking hospital ships - until then left alone by both sides.

She probably arrived in the US in January or February of 1918 - it would have taken time to arrange her travel and the journey itself took 3-4 weeks. Little Steven G Rogers came into the world on July 4th, 1918, without a clue as to the sacrifices his mother made to keep him and bring him to America, or the heartache she endured in the previous years. And that, my fellow nerds, is why Sarah Rogers is AWESOME and a sorely underused character and development point for Steve in the MCU. Because to do what she did, and to make it through took more than guts, it took sheer bloody-minded spite and stubbornness, and hey - who does that remind us of? Steve doesn’t grow up and get angry and fighty - no, he’s got that shit in his GENES from Sarah from the beginning.

EDIT: Part 2 is up! Consisting of Sarah’s journey and entry to America, plus how Very Not Good it was to be Irish whilst trying to do so.

#Sarah Rogers #IS AWESOME I WILL HEAR NO DISSENT IN THE RANKS #no seriously #the facts bear it out #fandom meta #captain america #backstory #character development #mcu #she was criminally underused #because you KNOW steve and bucky WORSHIPPED her #steve rogers #bucky barnes #joseph rogers #wwi #ireland #emigration

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michael-weinstein · 4 years

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What depression tells me

NOTE: The title is a paraphrase on titles Mahler used to give to movements of his 3rd Symphony.

Well, I got my depression back. Again, school is to blame for this (mainly). Tons of assignments and expectations. This arrived almost at the most terrible moment. Yesterday (I’ll keep it short, for means of privacy), 2 members of our server left, and so would a third were it not for the fact that she founded the server, and didn’t want it to go to dust. No fights really (at least as I understand it), but simply mental health, anger and study preoccupations. As the ego-centric person which I always hope never to be, but deep down always am (which is frankly human and almost natural), I needed support this time, and the three that decided to take the time off, two are the better-acquainted with me from the entire six. In addition, they will feel missing, that something is wrong.

That’s absolutely the right thing to have when I have a monstrous history assignment to hand in in 3 months from now (in stages), trying to catch up with math homework, and having a Bible assignment, which is not as big, but is still annoying.

Now, I have a confession to make, and it’s the first time I’m letting out in a public sphere (or people that aren’t closest to me): I have autism. Always had it. Rather low on the spectrum. But here’s the interesting thing: whenever I panic, or suicidal or whatever, I never think first of autism, or at least I don’t consider it seriously. I always think I’m wrong because I have some kind of neurotic psychological disorder which needs to be cured. Or maybe I belong to the psychiatric ward. My mindset is that I am mad, but I don’t have autism. I’m just a regular madman.

Anyway, because of this specialty (that is, the autism), ever since 1st grade I have been with a small number of kids in a seperate group along with also participating in the main class. Over ther years, the number of classes spent with the seperate “little” class (as it’s used in our lingo) diminished in favor of the “regular”, “big” class, but it never entirely disappears.

Why did I tell you all of this? Because a shutdown started in September (it kinda finished now, but not really?), and during it, the “little class” members could arrive to certain hours in the morning to study online from there, and get assistance in homework and assignments. Until the beginning of this month, I denied going there, because I wanted to avoid school physically as much as I could. The problem was that, even though I could go to synagogue on holidays (more about that probably in another post), and I would walk the dog nearly twice a week, I didn’t get out of the house, and I became depressed. Eventually, on the 1st of November, I decided to take the day off. I had nearly 12 math homeworks to hand in, as well as nearly 6 Bible assignments. I decided, eventually, to try to go to school the next day and see how things go. I came back home that day much more relieved and useful. I felt this could really help me.

My “little class” teacher, however, has been much more nudging than she had been before the pandemic. This just got on my nerves, she became irritating. My first days in school learning online were fine, because I was feeling better mentally, but now I just want her to leave me alone (remember that phrase, don’t you?), and have her stop asking me what assignments I have left, and telling me to get done with them.

Last night, I needed to do some math (geometry, unfortunately, as it is my weak point). While doing it, I decided to draw out a musical doomsday weapon I haven’t used yet. For the past few weeks, I have been looking outside the obsessive Shostakovich box, looking a bit for the Second Viennese School and Mahler, looking for remedies in Wagner, Schubert and (briefly) Bruckner, as well as Berlioz and Liszt. I decided to draw a work incredibly important for me, ever since I came to know of it 2 years ago, but which I haven’t actually listened to in a long time - Alban Berg’s opera Wozzeck.

Wozzeck, an opera based on a somewhat-unfinished play of roughly the same name by Georg Büchner, is named after its title character, a soldier, who goes quasi-moralistic tirades from his captain, and earns money as a subject for the experiments of his merciless military doctor. After some while, he begins to hallucinate and turns mad. In addition, his life partner Marie (they’re not married, but they have a son, declared “illegitimate” by the captain) starts flirting with the better-looking (though not necesarily younger!) drum major. Wozzeck recieves these news step by step, first by further humiliations from the captain and doctor, then he sees Marie and the drum major waltzing in a tavern, and finally with a humiliating boast of the drunk drum major himself that night in the barracks. So, driven to his nth degree of insanity, he murders Marie, and while trying to hide the evidences, drowns in the nearby pond.

Marie, however, isn’t a selfish whore. She has been trying to hide the affair from Wozzeck, and feels sympathy for him. In addition, she has a real love to her son, and has deep religious feelings, as illustrated in a scene where she reads from the Bible on Mary Magdalene and Jesus, where he forgives her, and Marie (notice the symbolism?) cries out for forgiveness. In the same scene, however, she practically prophesizes the son’s future (I made a photo with that caption). The last scene, straight after Wozzeck’s drowning, is preceeded by a 3-minute orchestral interlude, based on a sonata fragment that Berg composed while he was studying with Schoenberg. It’s a practical lament for people unrecognized, not treated properlly, and having this opera being composed in the aftermath of World War I, it’s also a funeral to the old world, being crushed by global war and then by the Spanish flu. The curtain then rises, on a scene of children, among them Wozzeck and Marie’s son riding a hobby horse, singing a German equivalent of “Ring-a-ring-a-roses” (guess what this is subtexting). A group of other children then runs in, telling they found Marie dead in a pond. Despite having been told it straight to his face, he keeps going on the hobby-horse, uncomprehending. While everyone else rushes to investigate, he limps on with his hobby horse to discover the bad end. It is simply heartbreaking.

I’ve come to know Wozzeck nearing the end of 8th grade (I’m currently in 11th), and fell in love with it, and also studied it partially from the excellent book written on it by George Perle. Both its music with its Mahlerian legacy (Berg has often been called the most “accessible” member of the Second Viennese School), and the plot, with its anti-glamorous location and short cut scenes. And I also immediately identified with the character of Wozzeck. A man with a highly wild sense of imagination, crushed by the norms and conventions of society, not taken care of properly, somebody who’s cared about only to be condemned. It’s an identification both potent and dangerous.

I’m now currently fearing that I am becoming a Wozzeck myself. I always had that fear to a certain extent, but now I understand better the grave consequences of this. To begin with, coronavirus itself made us locked at home and all our basics which we used to take for granted are now elevated to a high degree of importance, all while trying to keep through a world of Kafkaesque hypocrisy and alienation. Then the education system reacted to that in a bad way, either intentionally or unitentionally, and I’m currently being swamped with assignments and homework. And remember this is 11th grade, there are lots of tests to arrive too, and how are these going to take place? In short, it’s hard to keep yourself intact.

All of these are just potent ingridients for disaster and insanity, and I’m feeling more than ever before the idea of becoming a Wozzeck, and I don’t want that.

PS: This post was originally written last week. Somehow I forgot to submit it until now, when it was in my inbox! (lol)

#alban berg #wozzeck #corona time #coronatime #submission

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btskismet · 4 years

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Kismet (Chapter 18): A BTS Jin Imagines Fanfic

First ever fanfic. Contains some fluff and smut. Please read sequentially as it is a long story arc. Please provide feedback! My IG is btskismet.

November 7, 1944

Jun-seok was staring at a short Japanese man with a funny mustache. It was as if this man was trying to copy Adolf Hitler's tiny mustache. However, his mustache didn't seem to grow as well as Hitler's so it was half the length of the German dictator's, which made it look slightly skewed.

He expected for the Shosa (Major) to look a little more... refined. After all, he was the highest ranking officer in this district so far. He overheard that General Isumi was traveling to the capital of the country but would be back soon. So, Shosa Kimori would be calling the shots in this district for sure.

The man was smoking a tabacco as he was sitting inside what used to be a meeting room in the government building. He was looking at several papers placed on top of the table beside him.

He saw that he was looking at the military application form he filled out when he applied to be part of the Japanese Army. As the man looked at each page intently, Jun-seok shifted his weight while standing, anxiously waiting for what he had to say.

"So you know how to speak both Japanese and Korean, eh?", the man asked.

"Hai, Shosa Kimori", Jun-seok answered with a loud voice.

"Oh, I'm not Shosa Kimori. I'm Tai-i (Captain) Yuzawa. The Shosa couldn't meet you today. He went to the next town."

Jun-seok bowed really low and expressed his apologies. He felt stupid and for sure, he would be getting a beating. What a horrible mistake.

"It's alright. Stand up. I have another question for you.". Captain Yuzawa said, motioning Jun-seok to stand up straight.

"Do you know how to speak English?", the Captain asked, looking up to Jun-seok with one of his eyebrows raised.

Jun-seok hesitated. He thought he might need to lie because he might be sent to the enemy lines if he said he didn't speak it well enough, especially after what he said earlier. Would it matter if he didn't?

Before he was about to respond, the Captain raised his right hand and waved it slightly in front of his face. He was letting Jun-seok know that he didn't need to answer. "If you don't know, it's fine. The Mayor has someone in his family who can speak Japanese. It's important that you can speak both Japanese and Korean. Not all the locals speak very good English either."

Captain Yuzawa sets aside the papers and stands up to look out the window. He smoothens the creases on his pants. Jun-seok can tell that this man was stern and very detail-driven - his office was impeccably clean and all items on his desk, though minimal, were placed in a very purposeful way. Nothing was out of place.

When he faced Jun-seok, he started to speak in a very firm voice and said, "First of all, I don't agree having you here, Ittohei (first class private) Sakurai. We are having problems with some of the platoons here so if you do the job Shosa Kimori wants you to do, I think it will cause more trouble."

The Captain came up close to Jun-seok, peering into his eyes as they were of the same height. "Do you think you can speak to your fellow stubborn-minded Koreans to stop killing the populace?"

Jun-seok was flabbergasted in so many levels with the Captain's question. Yes, he heard the blatant insult to his race but what perplexed him was the fact that they were killing people and he was challenged to stop them.

"I will do my very best, Captain.", Jun-seok said as firmly as he possibly could. He knew he wasn't as confident as he would've liked, especially in front of this man who has profound disdain of his presence.

"Tch.", the Captain muttered and sat back down. "Dozo", he said and offered the seat across his table for Jun-seok to sit on. "I have a lot to share regarding your orders. Sit."

They spoke for almost an hour about what Jun-seok was ordered to do. It involved him knowing all the Korean platoon leaders and soldiers in the camp.

Lieutenant Akagi aka Gang Cheol was the one the army had most trouble with. Since he was the only commanding officer in certain remote areas of the district, he was the one who gave orders of having several locals killed on the spot. He also executed them as well. Though he was diligent in following orders from up top, if he was the lone officer with his platoon, he would exercise brutality in the most horrid way.

“Lieutenant Akagi's platoon is fiercely loyal to him because they are all Koreans. But a few follow him because they are afraid to be beaten up.”, the Captain said with a bit of displeasure. Jun-seok thought that the Captain probably had several issues with Lt. Akagi in the past. After all, the lieutenant reported to him. He must’ve been reprimanded before in not being able to keep Lt. Akagi in line, he thought.

"We are stern and brutal if we need to be, especially to set examples to the locals. But if we just randomly kill them, then it doesn't serve our purpose here. Plus the Shosa is friends with the Mayor and he needs to have the coffee fields removed so we can build the tarmac. But he can't just order them to be done or else he destroys the friendship he has with the Mayor."

"Why is the Shosa friends with the Mayor of the town?", Jun-seok asked.

"Wouldn't you be if the man saved your life?"

The Shosa was in camp the first few days he arrived to the country and then rebel forces infiltrated it. A bullet struck the Shosa's abdomen and was bleeding heavily. The Mayor was on his way to the camp since he was summoned minutes before the fighting broke out and to take cover, he went inside the tent where the Shosa was at. He saw him and instead of running away, he dragged him to a nearby jeep and drove to the town hospital and had him treated. If he didn't do that, the Shosa would've died.

"Since then, Shosa Kimori wants to respect the Mayor and his community's needs to keep the town's resources running and for them to keep supporting us. Akagi and his platoon's antics are ruining those chances."

Jun-seok assessed how dangerous this was going to be. He knew that he would have extreme difficulty dealing with Akagi-san if he found out that Jun-seok is really Kim Man-seok's son. He had to make sure they thought of him as purely Japanese. But he won't be able to communicate with them if that's the case; they would shut him out.

"Captain, none of them must ever know that I am Kim Man-seok's son." Jun-seok said hurriedly. "Or else I'll never get close to them."

The Captain nodded in agreement. “Yes, you would have that difficulty. We have to make sure they don’t know. Did your face appear in any of the photos in the newspaper?”

Jun-seok tried hard to remember. He knew it was only photos of his father and brother that appeared in the papers. Since he was younger then, his mother made sure that he was not exposed to the media as his father and brother were recovering in the hospital.

“No. I’m sure of it”, he replied to the Captain.

“Alright then. You are to mingle with the rest of the platoon and make sure to get the others soldiers to change their mind about Akagi so they will follow him less. If Akagi sees that his soldiers are not as loyal to him, he would be less confident and then we can easily move him out of the platoon. If we did that now, his platoon will rebel against the higher officers and we will never get anywhere. Knowing them, they would kill everyone on sight. And I don’t want to lose soldiers anymore by executing them. We still have the rebel factions to deal with and I have less troops as it is.”

Jun-seok nodded and understood his orders. He also surmised that he had to be crafty to make this work. His life depended on it too. Looking at Captain Yuzawa, he wasn’t one who would accept failure. He wouldn’t hesitate to execute Jun-seok if he failed.

“Before we assign you to the barracks to meet the platoon, you will have to report to the Jun-i (Warrant Officer) Watanabe. He handles our military equipment and you’ll be reporting to him. He is aware of your ‘other’ mission and agreed to help you.”

Jun-seok’s face lit up as soon as the Captain mentioned about the warrant officer and the latter noticed. “Yes, you are getting what you wanted, private. We are not going to let your skills go to waste. After all, you are going to work to get that tarmac built - it’s only fitting you get to work with actual aircraft.”

“Yes, sir! You can count on me, sir!”, Jun-seok said, beaming because of this news.

“You are dismissed.”

Jun-seok stepped out of the office and was given information by the other private outside. He had to pick up supplies from the local market and meet the warrant officer there.

He couldn’t contain his happiness with the news. Finally! I’ll be able to do what I really wanted to do.

Jun-seok was pleased and he did a bit of a skip as he was walking to the market. He was smiling to himself, thinking of what it would be like to get close to an actual fighter plane. “I hope I can work on a Zero* or even the new Hayate**! That would be so cool!”, he thought with a huge smile.

He was jostled from his thoughts of fighter planes when he reached the market. It was a busy area that morning and he was surprised that a lot of the locals were there and it was pretty noisy. He noticed that the locals didn’t seem to be too scared of the soldiers here as they were also quietly mingling with them, buying produce and food. The locals were selling their wares of vegetables, fruits, rice and fish. The smell of coffee was pretty strong as there were stalls brewing coffee and selling coffee beans.

He came upon one stall and looked at the beans being sold. They were of good quality and they smelled wonderful. A young man talked to him in broken Japanese, asking if he wanted some. He said yes and he was given a small bag of ground coffee. When he was about to pay, the man decline. “Muryo de (free of charge)! Ok?”, the man said.

He bowed and thanked the man. As he walked away, he put the bag near his nose. The coffee smelled so good and this made Jun-seok smile. But he stopped in his tracks when he was in front of the sundries store where he was to meet Warrant Officer Watanabe.

“There she is again.”, he muttered. He was looking at the young woman he saw earlier who helped the man who was beaten up by the soldier. She was still wearing the same clothes and the nice 1940s hairstyle she had. She was smiling and talking with a Japanese officer in a very respectful yet comfortable way. he could see that the officer was smiling and acknowledging her, pleased that they were conversing.

She was bowing slightly for every comment the officer gave and though she moved respectfully, he could see that she was comfortable in her own skin. Like she was not about to be bossed around. She was very confident, even though she was acting gracefully and respectfully towards the superior officer.

“She really is beautiful.I wonder who she is.”, he thought, observing her intently.

He started walking towards her and the officer but as he was about to approach them, she started saying goodbye to the officer.

“Gokigen'yō, Jun-i! Atode mata hanashimashou!” (Have a nice day, Officer. Talk to you later!), the lady said to the officer and waved. She didn’t look where she was going and bumped into him, which startled her.

“Ah, gomen nasai, Yakuin (I’m sorry, officer)!”, she said loudly and bowed her head low.

Jun-seok gave a short chuckle as soon as she bowed, finding her quick change of disposition amusing. Because of this, it made her look up quizzically.

“Daijobu desu (It’s fine).”, he said softly. This made her stand up straight and bowed slight before walking away quickly.

He looked back as she walked away, quite curious about this beautiful woman who was sparky and exciting underneath the surface. And to his surprise again, she looked back at him with that intense stare before walking away.

“I will meet you again.”, he declared in his mind before his attention was called by someone.

- - - to be continued - - -

*Mitsubishi A6M fighter plane - used by the Japanese army from 1940 to 1945

**Nakajima Ki-84 - a well-known Japanese fighter plane introduced in WW II in November 1944

#btsimagines #btskismet #btsjin #btsjinimagine

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theancientgeekoroman · 6 years

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hi! i'm a high-schooler who wants to pursue a career in classics and ancient history and you're a massive inspiration to me, I was wondering if you have any advice for an aspiring classicist

Hey! I’m glad to be an inspiration :3

So, the first thing I would suggest is to read, read, read. I know it’s expensive to get a lot of books, but remember that public libraries (and check your high school library, too!) might have many of the books you might want to read before you head into a Classics program.

If you would prefer to have these things online so you can access a lot of different things, here are my favorite websites to refer to:

http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/

https://www.gutenberg.org/

http://www.sacred-texts.com/search.htm

The next thing to remember is that if you’re an undergraduate student, you’re not going to know everything in every class. Be open to exploring - take courses that have a focus on the ancient world, but don’t be afraid to stray into other courses (I took enough Medieval courses (history, literature, art history) that I was one course away from a minor). One of the things that I would recommend is searching for schools that have a program you think you’ll enjoy and e-mail the professors! I e-mailed the director of the Classical Studies department at Villanova University back and forth for a long time before I applied to the graduate program and she was quite supportive and explained things well to me. This was a big reason I decided that I decided that Villanova was right for me. The professors and how they interact with potential students will tell you a lot about the faculty as well as the program. Look through the potential courses at the universities you’re interested in, and whether they have all the courses, you would be interested in, including courses for other aspects of the field.

Classics courses can be under Anthropology or Archaeology, Art History, English/Literature, Greek/Latin, Library Sciences, Law, Museum Studies, Theatre, etc. If you’re interested in exploring any of these areas of Classics, I would suggest exploring these courses if the university offers them as well. This would also help you hone in on what area of the field you might be most interested in pursuing - a lot of people who go into Classics either end up teaching or working in a museum, from my experience. However, those aren’t your only choices, and we’ll get back to that more towards the end :3

If you’re not sure if you’d like archaeology, if you can afford an archaeological field school, I would say try to participate in one when you’re an undergraduate student, or if you can’t, see if your local state parks have any need for archaeological volunteers. That’s something that I’ve been investigating in Las Vegas (where I live); this isn’t Classics specifically, but much of the work will be similar so you can gauge whether you like digging enough to do it for a living. This past summer I did my first archaeological field school (three years after I completed my B.A. in History/Classics), so if you wait a little longer, that’s okay, too. But, I loved it, and I definitely want to dig again, so I think that it’s important to find a way to pursue those opportunities when you can (I was lucky to get a full-time job a year before I went and was able to save up - I didn’t take any vacation time in the year and a half from when I was hired until after the field school). There are field school scholarships that you can apply to, like the Jane C. Waldbaum Archaeological Field School Scholarship (https://www.archaeological.org/grants/708), that are for students pursuing their first field school, amongst other funding, so make sure you look everywhere and ask your university if they have a database for field school funding. A lot of your anthropology and archaeology professors will be helpful in asking about this. Your university might also have archaeology opportunities on campus as well; my alma mater, the University of Delaware, had an Archaeology Laboratory that I volunteered in for extra credit and continued to do so once my course was over because I enjoyed it so much. See what’s around and how you can help out!

In the same vein, if you’re interested in museum work, look to see if you can volunteer over the summer, or once you’re a university student, see if you can enroll in an internship for credit. Sometimes your university galleries and museums might have a program, so look into that, too! I did a Curatorial Apprenticeship Program at the University of Delaware and was able to conduct an Independent Study for credit through the museum program (now the University of Delaware has a Museum Studies minor). I’ve always known that my end goal was to be a curator, but there’s plenty of other aspects of museums you can explore: education, administration, museum libraries, and a lot of other departments, depending on the size of the institution. If you’re in the U.S., you can check my museum post to see if your state has ancient art (https://theancientgeekoroman.tumblr.com/post/179105816745/master-list-of-museums-with-greek-roman), and if you’re in another country, don’t worry, I’m working on master lists for other countries, too.

Many courses may be taught in translation (especially if you’re taking it as an English Literature or Foreign Language in Translation course), so see if you can find the best or most highly recommended translations by professors. See what the book lists are for the courses at the universities you’re looking at and try to find your favorite translation. I just bought the Emily Wilson translation of The Odyssey, which I have a feeling will be my favorite translation. This is The Iliad translation I have (http://www.librarything.com/work/3426497/book/161094444), The Aeneid (http://www.librarything.com/work/11862/book/161072440), Metamorphoses (http://www.librarything.com/work/3439/book/161072432), and The Love Songs of Sappho (http://www.librarything.com/work/237534/book/161093187). All of these were assigned textbooks for my Biblical and Classical Literature and Mythology courses at the University of Delaware between 2007-2015 (those links take you to my LibraryThing, which will tell you most of the books that I own or I have on my wishlist, if you want to check them out; I haven’t finished organizing their categories yet, though, so it’s a WIP).

If you haven’t been exposed to Ancient Greek or Latin at the high school level and university will be the first time you encounter these languages (as was true for me), you don’t necessarily have to know anything by the first day of class. However, if you would like a head start, here are some lessons on Ancient Greek in YouTube format (http://www.openculture.com/2016/08/learn-ancient-greek-in-64-free-lessons-from-brandeis-harvard.html) and in text format (https://lrc.la.utexas.edu/eieol/grkol). Latin, unsurprisingly, has a lot more resources for free online learning (I even bought a Udemy course to review my Latin): The University of Texas at Austin: https://lrc.la.utexas.edu/eieol/latol, http://learn101.org/latin.php, and this list is good to consult: https://www.omniglot.com/language/articles/latinapps.htm. I haven’t used all of these myself, so explore and see which ones would be best for you and works best for how you learn.

If you decide to continue with Classics into the graduate level, keep in mind that you’ll need German AND French or Italian. I took both French and Italian as an undergraduate and I can read French pretty well because I took it for four years in high school and studied abroad in Caen for five weeks as an undergraduate. Italian I can kind of read alright, but I know no German, which I need to work on. So, if you have a language requirement and your Latin or Greek does not count, keep those languages in mind. (Sometimes you have to take a certain amount of Latin or Ancient Greek for it to count, and your program may not require as many ancient language courses for your major as the language requirement for the university, etc. I only needed to take Ancient Greek or Latin, but I decided I wanted to do both.)

Classics is an extremely interdisciplinary field, so you have a lot of options, both as an undergraduate and a graduate student. You don’t necessarily need to go straight into graduate school, either. You can teach at the high school level, you can go into archaeology fieldwork or museum work, or do a variety of other things. It’s up to you. I took a year off, got a different Master of Arts degree before I applied to my M.A. in Classical Studies. It’s different for everyone. I’ll be 30 when I get my M.A. in Classical Studies, so take your time and explore things that call to you. Don’t rush things and have fun!

Of course, I’m sure you want to know “What can I do with a Classics degree?” Luckily, many places have already made lists like this! Here they are:

https://www.angelo.edu/services/career/majors/classics.php

https://www.canterbury.ac.nz/careers/subjects/classics/

https://classicalstudies.org/education/careers-for-classicists/an-undergraduate-degree-in-the-classics

https://www.exeter.ac.uk/media/universityofexeter/careersandemployability/subjectfactsheets/subjectfacsheets/2016ese030_Classics_st1.pdf

http://loveofhistory.com/what-jobs-can-you-get-with-an-ancient-history-and-classics-degree/

https://www.prospects.ac.uk/careers-advice/what-can-i-do-with-my-degree/classics

And I made a post with different places that post Classics positions as well, for when you’re ready to look for those (I check them regularly to see the requirements people want for these positions to either match up or if I need further training or credentials): https://theancientgeekoroman.tumblr.com/post/178955792555/since-im-still-in-my-ma-program-for-classical

TLDR & recap:

Read, read, read

Research your potential schools

Volunteer

Explore aspects of the field

Have fun!

Additionally, I found this list of people that have Classics degrees :3

https://rogueclassicism.com/folks-you-didnt-know-maybe-had-classics-degrees/

I hope you found this helpful and I apologize for the length, but feel free to drop me a line whenever you like if you need more advice or would like me to expand on any of my experiences!

All the best,

The Ancient Geeko-Roman

P.S. Folklore Fiancé wanted to make sure I didn’t overwhelm you and wanted to encourage you to make sure you take your time and take breaks when studying. Don’t overwhelm yourself with your research; take your time to explore different areas and don’t tackle too many things at once. *takes off parent hat*

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poisonivysparks · 5 years

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Drugged Up Confessions {Peter Maximoff X Reader}

People stared at me while they drove by. I was laying in a ditch on the side of the road, left for dead. Sure, I looked almost completely different from a normal person, but it was no reason not to do anything about a person stuck on the side of the road.

I looked different because I was purple, had sharp teeth, bright gold eyes, and a long, spade-like tail. Over the course of ten years, I had been experimented on, tested, and tortured in a lab with other people, just like me.

The only person I had really seen, was a man with curly, red hair and lots of freckles on his chubby cheeks. He had disappeared about a year ago and I hadn’t seen him since then.

I curled up into a fetal position in a futile attempt to keep myself warm, since the winds were howling above me. I tried to think of when times were better, even though they were still kind of bad. I thought of my times in the Munich Circus with my twin, Kurt, or Nightcrawler as they called him back then.

We had been close, up until the time I had been bought by a man named Bolivar Trask. I was sent to his laboratory in America, it was one of the most horrible things that had ever happened to me.

I still had a slight German accent from my time in Germany, it had never gone away, nor faltered.

Suddenly, a car stopped and somebody got out.

“Are you okay?” An unfamiliar man’s voice asked, in a tender tone.

“I-I’m alright.” I sat up, sniffling. He looked really nice, nerdy glasses, a tiny bit of stubble, and a kind face. He had a yellow aura around him, meaning that he was happy.

“I-I can take you to a safe place, for people like us, I promise that I won’t hurt you. I’m Hank McCoy, a teacher there.” He said, putting a hand out for me to grab.

“What do you mean, ‘like us?’” I asked him, pulling myself up.

“We’re mutants, I work at a school for mutants.” He told me, walking over to his car.

“A-are you sure you are not going to hurt me?” I asked, following him wearily.

“I promise.” He said simply, opening the passenger door for me.

I entered the car, trusting him completely, I could always teleport out if I wanted to.

We drove for a while in silence, I felt quite awkward. He ended up pulling down a nice looking driveway with trees around it.

A few teens, about my age, were hanging around the trees, smoking and laughing with their friends, it was winter, but they didn’t seem to mind. They were all happy, a yellow aura around them.

Little patches of snow were on the ground since it was January. The air was frigid and cold, ice covering the road.

Hank turned into a garage, parking the car right after, went over to the passenger side door, and opened it for me.

“Th-thank you.” I stuttered, getting out of the car, my long and outgrown hair flowing behind me.

“It’s no problem. Now, come with me, the Professor will want to see you.” He told me, walking out of the garage, out into the freezing air.

“The Professor?” I asked, following him. He went up to a large, oak door and knocked.

“You’ll see in a second.” He told me, a happy aura around him, just like everybody else on the property.

“Hank?” A British voice said as the door opened, he had brown hair, blue eyes, and was in a wheelchair. “Why are you knocking?”

Hank motioned to me, and the Brit’s eyes widened at the sight of me. “I found her on the side of the road, she might’ve been from the old Trask Industries laboratory.”

The Brit turned his attention to me. “What’s your name, dear?” He asked me tenderly.

“Y/n Wagner.” I said, a little self-conscious about my accent.

“Hello, Y/n.” He smiled kindly. “I’m Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my school.” We walked inside, well, Charles rolled. I followed Charles into, what looked like, an office. “Would you mind telling me what happened before Hank found you?”

“Well, up until I was about nine, I was in ze circus with my twin, Kurt. Then, I was bought by Bolivar Trask, and tested on in America. Oh, I also saw this boy, he had curly, red hair, lots of freckles and kind of chubby cheeks.” I told them as their faces dropped.

“Sean? Was his name Sean?” Charles asked, looking frantic.

“I do not know, I’m sorry,” I told them.

“Well, I think we need to get you a room.” Charles smiled sadly, a blue aura around him.

~Time Skip to June~

I had been living on the campus for six months and made a friend, just one, her name was Jean. She was also a social outcast, just like me, except she didn’t have any appearance altering powers. We had somehow made friends with the new kid, Scott. Jean obviously liked him, her aura turning pink whenever she was around him. I admired their subtle affections towards each other.

I hadn’t told anybody, except Jean, about what happened before I got to the school, I hid all of my emotions behind a smile and took on everybody else’s problems to cover my own.

I was sitting on a couch with Jubilee and Jean, Scott had gone off to do God-knows-what.

I heard two sets of approaching footsteps and looked up from the conversation we were having. I saw Scott walk through and- my breath caught in my throat, it seemed like I was suffocating, quickly, I leap to my feet.

“K-Kurt? B-bruder(brother)?” My voice cracked as tears sprung to my eyes. Yellow eyes, mirroring my own, made contact with me.

“Schwester? (Sister)” I ran up to Kurt and tackled him into a hug. We tumbled across the floor slightly as we held each other close and twined our tails as a sign of affection. Happy tears streamed down my face as we hugged each other sitting on the ground. He had a bright yellow aura around him and tears in his eyes.

“Bruder, es war zu lang. Ich habe dich sehr vermisst.” (Brother, it has been too long. I have missed you dearly.) We started a small conversation in German as we still held each other, craving the contact of the other half of our souls, even if we weren’t twins we would have been very close, but being twins just made us even closer.

I heard a cough interrupt our conversation, I looked up to see Jean, Jubilee, and Scott staring, they seemed to be speechless at our heartfelt reunion.

“Sorry, sorry. This is my twin, Kurt Vagner.” We stood up, our tails still intertwined, as if we let go the other would disappear, which is quite possible because we could both teleport.

“We can tell...” Scott said as I put my five-fingered hand into Kurt’s three-fingered one.

“I still can’t believe that it’s been ten years since I’ve seen you, Y/n.” Kurt said, looking at me.

“I know, I��ve missed you,” I told him as he hugged me tightly.

“Y’know, these two have never been to a mall before, why don’t we show them some real American culture?” Scott said, and the two girls agreed.

“I heard the new Star Wars movie is in theaters, we could get the two some new clothes,” Jean suggested.

“Does anybody know where the Professor keeps his cars?” Scott asked, looking at all of us.

“I do.” I raised my hand up.

“Great.” He smiled evilly.

~Time Skip~

It was now August and super hot, me and Kurt had become practically attached at the hip. He knew all of my secrets and I knew all of his. Peter and I had also become close, we had been assigned as roommates since the boys’ dorms were all full. I had a slight crush on Peter, but I knew he wouldn’t love me back.

“Ich weiß, dass du ihn magst. (I know you like him)” Kurt told me as we sat down on a bench in the hedge maze.

“Kurt, Ich tue nicht. (I do not)” I told him, my cheeks heating up.

“Ja, Sie tun, versuchen Sie es nicht zu leugnen. (Yes, you do, don’t deny it)” He told me, poking at my sides. I laughed and slapped his hand away.

A silver blur crossed by us and I knew exactly who it was. Peter.

“Why do you guys always talk in German? Nobody ever knows what the hell you’re saying.” Peter said, squishing between me and the arm of the concrete bench.

“That’s the point.” I smiled at him, and a weird purple aura appearing around him, I had no idea what it meant.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like it.” He huffed, the purple becoming green, I didn’t know what the green meant either.

“Well, you have to deal with it.” I told him, crossing my arms playfully. Suddenly, the loud bell rang, signaling that we were late for our next class, which just happened to be training.

“Fuck, why am I always late?” He said and sped off, leaving me and Kurt to teleport there.

We did just that and got scolded a little bit by Mystique, she didn’t seem to like us very much.

Mr. McCoy started up the Danger Room and robots emerged from the wall, all we had to do was fight them for a while.

My brother and I were teaming up on the robot, while the others had their own robots to fight. Kurt and I were doing really well, until, suddenly, the robot swung at me, knocking me against the wall.

I fell to the ground and tried to teleport, but I just flashed red and stayed in the same spot.

Mystique and Kurt immediately ran over to me.

“No! My baby.” Mystique ran to my side and started stroking my hair, her aura was blue and pink, sadness and love.

“Why did you call me that?” I asked, coughing up a little bit of blood.

“I-I....” She trailed off and then I noticed the slight similarities between her and Kurt’s face.

“Are you my” I asked, suddenly realizing something. “Mutter?” (Mother)

She nodded, and Kurt looked at her in shock.

I felt extremely tired, and closed my eyes. “No! Y/n, please don’t fall asleep.” Kurt’s voice sounded distant and echoey.

~!Peter’s PoV!~

I sat next to Y/n’s unconscious body, she had gotten knocked out earlier that day and had only woken up in two-minute segments, spouting absolute nonsense, because of the medicine McCoy gave her. Kurt and Mystique were in and out, they both started crying when they saw her, though.

I saw her eyes flutter open and she sits up a bit, seeming to be in a daze. She looks over to me with a puzzled look on her face and I heard her speak.

“Kevin? Is that you?” Wait… who the hell is Kevin? I thought to myself, But she continued to babble, thinking I was this Kevin person.

“Kevin, I need to get something off of my chest.” She slurred to me.

“I am madly in love, with an oblivious idiot that can’t take a hintttt…” She elongated the word hint. Wait… I looked into her eyes.

“Who is the idiot you're in love with (Y/n)?”

“His name is Peter, I like to call him Quicksilver though.” She slurred to me, and my face turned bright pink.

“He doesn’t realize that I like him, zough, because he can’t take a hint” She whined like a child to me and my face became redder than it was already.

“I’m sure he likes you too (Y/n).” As I tried to get her to lay down to sleep again, red faced as a tomato.

“Do you really think that?” She asked, closing her eyes.

“Yes, I really do.” Her breathing slowed and her whole body relaxed.

| Y/n’s PoV | (In a Nightmare)

I was trapped in a room, crying. All of my closest friends, Jean, Scott, Jubilee, my family, Kurt and Mystique, and the one person that I loved with all of my heart, Peter.

They were all screaming in agony, held down by leather straps and being electrocuted. The big window in front of me was all I could look through, and it terrified me, their auras were all bright red, they were in intense pain. I tried to teleport out of there, do something, but I couldn’t.

“That’s horrible.” A voice said from beside me, I turned my head to see Sean.

“Everybody I know is in there.” I told him, tears leaking out of my eyes.

“You do realize that Trask industries closed down last month, right?” He crossed his arms and I looked at him in shock.

“W-what is this then?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Some people call it a hallucination, but most people call it a dream.” He leaned up against the wall, arms crossed.

“How do I get out?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I dunno, I’m just kinda here.” He shrugged his shoulders, walking around freely.

“I heard that some people have to die to get out of their dreams,” I told him, trying to move my legs and succeeding. I walked over to him and tried to touch him, but he was transparent and ghost-like.

“Wake up, Y/n, please.” I heard an echoey voice from somewhere far off, I couldn’t tell who it was. “Everybody’s worried about you.”

The voice sounded familiar, but it was distorted and seemed lower than it was supposed to be.

I looked through the window and saw that Peter was gone, the straps were still tied and nothing had moved, but Peter was not there.

I curled up into a fetal position, completely scared of what would happen, I stayed there for what seemed like hours, the voice fading away.

Quickly, I closed my eyes, hoping to go back to the real world, where I could be with my family and my friends.

~In the Real World~

I sat up, my eyes wide open, nobody was in the bland, all white, infirmary. “Peter? Kurt? Jean? Mystique?” I called out, my voice echoing throughout the room.

I heard footsteps and a ‘bamf.’

“Y/n!” Kurt’s accented voice rang out and he hugged me tightly, his aura was bright yellow.

“Kurt, you are squishing me.” I told him as he let go.

“Sorry,” He apologized. “You passed out about six hours ago and I vas worried about you.” He said.

Mystique rushed in, about a minute after her son and her aura the same as her sons. “We heard your voice.” She said, hugging me.

“I’m okay, I promise,” I told them, hugging her tightly.

“Peter was in here for a while.” Kurt told me and my cheeks flushed fuchsia. “He was worried, just like the rest of us, stayed here longer than any of us.”

“He was?” I asked, a hopeful tone in my voice.

“Well, yeah.” Kurt said plainly as I tried to get up. He held me down and pushed me into the hard bed.

“Kurt! I want to get up! I’m feeling a lot better.” I told him, crossing my arms and pouting.

“I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea, Y/n.” Mystique told me, sitting down on the bedside chair.

“Why can’t we just ask Mr. McCoy?” I asked, a little mad.

“I can go ask him.” Kurt volunteered, raising his hand.

“Thank you. Kurt.” I hugged him and he bamfed away.

He came back after a few minutes, Hank in tow. Hank quickly went over to the IV machine that was hooked up to my arm, his aura was a soft yellow.

“You’re vital’s are good, does anything hurt?” He asked and I nodded.

“I’m a little sore, but otherwise, I’m good. May I get out of this bed now?” I smiled at him, trying to use my adorableness in my favor.

“Yeah, you can, just don’t do anything drastic, you’re in recovery.” He told me, unhooking the IV from my vein.

“Thank you!” I got up and hugged him, my limbs incredibly sore.

I teleported to Kurt’s side and our tails intertwined.

“You guys are adorable.” Mystique said, laughing a little bit. “My two babies.”

Hank looked completely lost and confused, looking between Me, Kurt, and Mystique. “Did something happen, or..?”

“Are really that blind, Hank?” Mystique asked, laughing.

“I don’t know, I mean, I do wear glasses.” He said, adjusting his glasses.

“These are my kids.” She laughed as Hank’s eyes widened.

“W-what?” He stuttered. “So, um, you guys are Darkhölme’s?”

“I-I guess so.” Kurt said, resting his elbow on the top of my head.

“Get is off of me, Kurt. I am not a baby.” I grumpily pushed his arm off, giving Kurt the stink eye.

“Okay, Y/n, you should probably go get some exercise,” Hank said, smiling at me and Kurt.

“Alright.” I smiled back at him and bamfed out of the room and into the garden, leaving Kurt behind.

Peter was sitting on the same concrete bench that Kurt and I were sitting on earlier that day, a few purple flowers in his hands. It was almost completely dark outside and he looked kind of sad, his aura was blue with green tips.

“Peter!” I yelled waving my hand.

He heard my voice and looked right at me, his aura turning a bright yellow. “Y/n! You’re awake! I was worried that you wouldn’t wake up.” He ran over and hugged me, purple tips appearing around him. He easily lifted me up in the air and my cheeks turned a bright fuschia.

“Peter, you’re squishing me.” I told him, laughing a little bit. The flowers laid slightly damaged in his hands.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, his aura becoming slightly more purple. He set me down, me being very short compared to him.

“It’s alright.” I smiled, showing off my fangs a little bit.

“These are kind of for you, sorry that they’re squished.” His cheeks turned pink and the tips of his purple/yellow aura also became pink.

“It’s alright,” I told him, graciously taking the flowers from him. “They are beautiful, even if they are a little squished.”

“I found them and I wanted to give them to you.” He said, taking a step away from me.

“Thank you.” I told them, smelling the slightly damaged flowers.

“I want to show you something. Come with me, please?” He asked, excitement evident in his hazel eyes.

“Alright.” I smiled and he held me, his hand behind my neck.

“We’ll be there in a second, okay?” He said, a little concerned.

“Okay.” I said and he rushed off, stopping in a very thick patch of trees.

“We’re almost there, it’s just up ahead.” He told me, taking my hand in his and walking at a, surprisingly, slow pace.

“What is it, Peter?” I asked, following him towards a particularly thin patch of trees.

“I can’t tell you that.” He smiled, a mischievous look in his eyes.

We walked into the middle of the thin patch of trees, where a very comfy looking blanket was lying down on the ground.

“I come here almost every night, and just stargaze.” He told me, lying down on the blanket.

“I’ve only been stargazing once in my life, Kurt and I ended up getting in trouble. It vas nice while it lasted.” I told him, lying down next to him, the blanket was very fluffy and warm. His aura turned slightly green, but still yellow.

“Well, now you get to do it with me.” He booped my nose and I giggled slightly.

We watched the stars for a while, pointing out all of the constellations that we knew and some that we didn’t.

“You’re adorable, y’know that?” He said, looking at me, while I pointed out another constellation that I made up.

“W-what do you mean?” I asked, flustered as his aura turned completely pink.

“You. I love you.” He said, looking away from me and back up at the stars. “I love how innocent and adorable you are, I love the faraway look you always have in your eyes. You smile so much and I was so worried that you wouldn’t wake up. Sometimes, it makes me jealous because of the relationship that you have with your brother. You two are adorable and when you talk in German it kinda turns me on. I just love you and I feel like this is all so sudden and I just…”

His words made my cheeks flush and my brain not be able to think clearly. I had no idea what to do so I crashed my lips into his, taking the speedster by surprise.

He kissed me back and it felt like the stars were shining and cheering for us, as if they knew it was going to happen. He easily dominated me, rolling on top as I was pushed even farther into the cosy blanket.

Our lips moved together ravenously, my hands were tangled into his slightly fluffy, silver hair and my tail was curled around his torso. His hands were resting on my hips, barely squeezing, but I could feel it.

We pulled away, breathing heavily, and our foreheads were touching.

“I love you too, Peter.” I smiled while he caressed my purple cheek.

“I think you said that already with your lips.” He chuckled, his hair completely messed up, and I laughed with him.

“I’ve sort of had a crush on you ever since we started sharing a room together.” I told him, embarrassed that I was actually telling him that.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a crush ever since I first saw you in that facility.” He told me. “And then when I first saw you laughing at my ‘I still live in my mom’s basement’ joke, I was completely head over heels.”

“You’re so sweet.” I hugged him and tackled him to the ground.

He flipped me over, very easily and gave me his signature cocky smirk. “You’ll never beat me, y’know.”

“I know.”

Masterlist

#X-Men #X-Men Apocalypse #x-men x reader #X-men oneshot #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #oneshot #fluff #confessions #getting hurt #female reader #Kurt Wagner #reader is kurt's sister

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zeledonia · 5 years

Note

How has your social environment and family reacted to you coming out as non-binary? Also, what is it like to be non-binary in general? Transgenders usually experience a strong sense of gender dysphoria and have to transition with the aid of hormones to finally feel comfortable. But since you do not assign yourself to any gender at all, how is it for you? Do you experience gender dysphoria too? And how are non-binary people treated to feel better in their body? Also via hormone therapy?

Two things before I start: the belief that you have to experience dysphoria to be trans is not one I share. I will have to point this out here, because it’s quite the discourse in the community, and I’d rather make my stance clear.Second, you might wanna avoid the term ‘transgenders’. We’re transgender people. Or trans people, for short. Might sound like a nitpick to you, but I promise it’ll make talking to and about trans people easier for you. ^^My home situation is a bit ??? in that regard tbh. I’m not actually closeted at all, but at the same time I’m not really out to my parents either because they’re just painfully oblivious?I’ll have to admit I never actually took them aside and told them that I’m not cis, mainly because I already know for a fact that my father is the type of person who thinks we’re all just special snowflakes. He has expressed as much, and I don’t really have the patience to come out to someone who’s just gonna insist I’m having a phase lolBut honestly? I’ve been making comments and jokes about not being my assigned gender since before i even knew the term ‘non-binary’ and I’ve found the most comfort in an androgynous presentation since I was a little kid. I have a trans flag hanging on my bedroom wall. I don’t have anything to hide, so if they ever do wanna breach the topic with me, I won’t be lying to them.I just don’t think the effort of making the first step would be worth it. I... don’t really feel close enough to my parents to care, yknow? It’s not a topic I want to get further into, but I don’t tend to show them much of who I am. As for friends, classmates etc., that actually worked out super well. Like I said, I always had a habit of saying I’m not my assigned gender since I was little, so when i found out there’s a term for what i feel, none of my friends were surprised. Most of the reactions pretty much just ranged from “never heard of that before, but sounds like you” to “that explains things”. One of my classmates was pretty excited because she has a friend who is NB as well. There’s a trans man in my class, too, and not being the only one to have to ask to be called by a different name etc made both of us feel a little more comfortable on our first day.Now, as for how it feels, I am not really the best at explaining. If I asked you how it feels to be your gender, what would you say?All I can say is that from a very young age on, it always felt off to me to be called my assigned gender. I’ve never managed to see people of my assigned gender as an “that’s us” group, the concept of being that gender always felt like I was just... dressing up, in a way. I always felt out of place, uncomfortably so. I knew it was possible for people to be trans, but thinking about the other binary gender, it also never felt like that worked for me. I was just sort of. Lost in between.When i found out there’s a term for this it felt so good. Just to know that I wasn’t being ridiculous in my head, that there are people who feel the same, that I don’t have to pick between two options that didn’t feel like me.Growing into my body was also uncomfortable as fuck. I have to bind sometimes or else it messes me up.I did think about hormones, but then I just got stuck with the question of what happens if I end up looking too much like the other binary gender. I’d have gone through all that, just to feel as uncomfortable as before.I think for me the best option would eventually be top surgery, but I’m terrified of being operated on lol, so that’ll take some courage. I can pull off an androgynous look if I put effort into it, so I’m not sure I would really benefit from hormones all that much.The more difficult it is for people to tell what my assigned gender is, the more comfortable the situation feels to me.You also gotta know, German is also a bit of a tricky language. We don’t have gender neutral pronouns, there’s no equivalent to singular they in our language. I don’t really like xe/xem and the like for myself. So I gotta shrug that bit off anyway. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach to how a non-binary person could feel more comfortable. Different people will have different things that make them comfortable or uncomfortable, and what I personally experience may not be true for someone else. Rather like how not all men and women are the same.Some of us will want hormones. Some want surgeries. Some are fine with their bodies. Some are okay with traditionally gendered pronouns, others are unhappy with them.Idk if ths answered anything for you but I’m kinda late for work because I ended up answering this at like 8am sorry

#i feel weird answering stuff like this because I need to reiterate that i am not the NB Spokesperson TM #I speak only for myself and not for other NB people #experiences differ #so you cannot take me as an example for all of us #just noting that #Anonymous

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warmau · 6 years

Text

villain!au sicheng

prince dong sicheng has always ruled his country with one motto: do anything for the survival of his people

and most people assumed that meant,,,,,keep political peace and ensure basic necessities for all

and while sicheng was nothing but a hands on and loving leader who protected the basic rights of all his citizens

and made sure that the rest of the world saw just that

clean cut dong sicheng, his white princely uniform and warm, welcoming smile

offering resources and trade but also securing the tradition of his people

there was much more to sicheng,,,,,,than believed by his own people, his own royal family, and of course - the rest of the world media

because the moment he stopped shaking hands with the princes of other countries or the presidents or the army generals or whoever

and the cameras and media all left for the day

he’d retire to his office and tap his foot impatiently, staring out of the large windows that lead out to a view of the capital of his country

and he’d think,,,,,,

what else do we need? what else should i steal

he’d never thought that the training he got as a child, all those dance classes and whatnot would have made him as agile and as strong of a fighter as he was now

he’d always played delicate and soft ,,,,,,, approachable and passive,,,,,,but he’d taken down groups of men with his bare hands, without any help

of course,,,,he wasn’t some low level criminal who went around on the streets of his own country

no, he targeted big people

people with power

the people he shook hands with at one meeting, he’d show up at their hotel rooms in the night

face covered, a gleaming ceremonial knife used for years by the royals he was related to pushed up to their throats

and sicheng would not kill,,,,he would blackmail - negotiate - and get whatever resources he thought his country was lacking at absolutely any cost

he’d secured higher trading contracts for the merchants in his country like this

got a top scholar to leak his plans for solar-powered energy to sicheng so he could implement it in new housing projects

and when he’d found out that one of the presidents that was staying at his hotel had apparently been involved with criminal neglect toward women,,,,,sicheng had made sure to mess him up just enough that when he returned to his country - he resigned there on the spot

sicheng didn’t like the word criminal he preferred vigilante

when children asked him what his favorite movie was when he visited the schools he’d smile coyly and answer

“robin hood!”

your first encounter with sicheng was during the welcoming ceremony of the first of many meetings between sicheng and diplomats from the bordering countries

you were assigned a guide, a helpful and adoring taeyong who only sang the highest of praise about sicheng

and when you saw him,,,,,standing before you in that famous all white uniform

the golden tassels and badges that adorned the front lapel would have blinded you if sicheng’s iridescent smile hadn’t beat them to it

“isn’t he just perfect?!?” taeyong exclaimed “so young but still leading us so well!”

obviously you could do nothing but nod

still in awe at how,,,,,unreal the prince looked up close

and when you threw a glance back at him, half listening to taeyong chatter about the museums he’d have to show you while you were around

you could see that sicheng’s expression never changed,,,,,not from one diplomat to the next

it was the same

and as beautiful as he was, as graceful and forthcoming

his slicked back hair not a centimeter out of place

not a button on his uniform unshined

you thought that something was just too good about all of this to be true

how was someone so young,,,,,with a country whose army power was rivaled by every diplomat’s homeland

doing so so so well for itself?

but you stopped your thoughts there - it was rude for you to overshadow sicheng’s hard work and efforts to keep his country pristine and safe

he just,,,,,,,had the magic touch you guessed

and returned your attention to taeyong

the second time you got to see sicheng after that was at the conference you were presenting to him about your country and his country’s mutual benefit of trading

when you came into the room you had noticed that sicheng was already there

that was unusual,,,usually you set up by yourself beforehand and then the prince would be ushered in by his entourage of “important” people

but there he was

alone

taeyong comes in a moment later and disregards you in order to ask the prince a flurry of questions

you set up,,,,,,but you feel sicheng looking at you even with all of taeyongs attention on him

the presentation is nothing stellar,,,,you get your major points across and you’re direct about your countries resources

sicheng makes small notes and his eyes dont light up at any of the propositions you’ve been asked to present on behalf of your country

when it’s over

he gives you the same smile when you first met,,,,,,warm - but yet,,,,its lost its touch the second time around

but when you shake his hand he pulls you a bit

letting taeyong exit first before he asks, “why were you looking at me at the welcoming party yesterday? is there something you want to ask me?”

his voice is gentle, soft

it reminds you of a lullaby ,,,,, but a lullaby thats supposed to make you feel safe before a storm

“o,,oh i just,,,,,ive never seen a prince before. this is my first visit as a diplomat - i hope i didnt offend you!!”

you try your best to play it off as genuine curiosity and sicheng lets your hand go with a satisfied nod

“ah,,,,well you’ll see me so much you’ll get sick of me”

he laughs and you notice that he’s not wearing the white uniform, instead its a high collar shirt paired with golden cuff links and a necklace that you recognize as being an artifact from the early eighteenth century

you don’t say anything else, just bow goodbye

and think that it’s a little freaky for sicheng to have noticed you glance over your shoulder

when he was in a room where everything and everyone else was of much more importance

you also note that when sicheng had spoken to you just then,,,,you’d noticed that he hadn’t taken any of the proposals that you’d left on the table for him

something just felt,,,,,,,,off

and it wasn’t just off,,,your whole stay in his country was becoming downright confusing

the day after your presentation you had known other diplomats had spoken with sicheng as well

one of them was a german diplomat who you’d known was famous for discovering a new use of oil in germany but was yet to publish information on it because the government wanted to keep it to itself

that same diplomat,,,,,,had suddenly pulled out and left the country the morning after

you’d learned about it from taeyong at breakfast

and then,,,,,when you’d returned to your room you found a package on your bed from the prince

it was a costume,,,,to wear to dinner tonight at his palace

taeyong was downright in hysterics about not knowing that there was going to be a dinner and that now he had to find something nice to wear

and you were just staring at the box,,,,,the costume inside,,,,,and the flash of sicheng’s face when he’d questioned you yesterday

the dinner was apparently a invite-only among the diplomats,,,,out of the 14 who were there only 7 were invited

and no one of you knew why

sicheng of course made sure everyone forgot about that,,,making cheerful toasts and talking about projects that he was starting in his country to help further education and aid to poorer, less urban parts

everyone was talking politics and whatnot and had let the weirdness and abruptness of the event fade from their mind

and then there was dancing,,,,,,

first by the ballroom dancing professionals of sicheng’s country and then by the diplomats themselves

but before south korea’s diplomat, young and a little shy mark, could come over to you

sicheng had stepped before you and smiled,,,,,,,,the same warm - but now cold smile,,,,,

“you liked the costume?”

“it’s very nice,,,,,but it seems expensive?”

sicheng waves his hand, “it’s a traditional costume from my country. it’s a gift.”

you take the chance to break eye contact and look around,,,,,no other diplomat is wearing anything like yours,,,,,you wonder what their presents from the prince were

and what the presents to those diplomats not in attendance were as well

“may i?”

sicheng takes your hand and you snap back to the moment

he twirls you around before you can even answer and then suddenly,,,,,,you’re chest to chest with royalty

so close you can feel sicheng’s heartbeat through the linen fabric of his shirt

and you can see the details of his flawless face up close

his eyes are darker like this,,,they’re almost the color of tar and the pupil is nearly unseen

his hairs been slicked back again and on his side there are golden pins to fasten it back

he’s like a prince from a fairytale,,,,,not from real life

and then you hear it,,,,,just faintly above the music

“be careful”

with one last twirl, sicheng lets you go and turns to the next diplomat

your head spins and for a moment you assume you hallucinated that line

but when you see sicheng looking at you over the shoulder of his new dance partner you know,,,,,,,,,,he said it

but you have no damn clue what you’re supposed to be careful of,,,,,is it of him? and if so, why?

isn’t he the beloved prince,,,,,the one who can do no wrong

you don’t get it,,,,and so you just stay and continue to do your job

and watch as diplomats either leave the country or end up coming to meetings looking stark and pale

and sicheng just collects all these new trade agreements, all these new resources

and one afternoon you open the paper and see that the subway system will be implementing new energy resources from solar powered tracks and you remember the german diplomat who had left so early on

sicheng doesn’t send anymore gifts,,,,but he continues to keep you close

he has you sit beside him at meetings with everyone else

he entertains taeyong in order to keep you roped in the conversation

and he even flirts,,,,,,with you

all of which you can’t even fathom until,,,,,,,,you decide to hatch a plan and figure out if your theory about sicheng hiding something is true

so you request to give another presentation which sicheng’s assistant gets back to you in a matter of hours

with an overwhelmingly excited “of course the prince will want to hear about it!!!!!!!”

you grit your teeth when you answer, “i can’t wait to show him”

it’s a complete lie of course

your whole presentation is something you came up with in your head because in reality our country has nothing really interesting or big to offer

but you get up in front of sicheng and announce that your country has gained access to gold

a whole mountain of it

and sicheng’s eyes spark unlike the first time you gave your presentation on something about trading

and now he’s really listening

and you’re really selling it

and when it’s over, sicheng has a million questions

all of which you planned for and answer with clearity

and that night, after dismissing taeyong, you sit in the hotel room given to you and you wait

because something is telling you,,,,,,,that sicheng will come

you turn of the lights and sit in bed and at exactly two in the morning the door to your room clicks with the softest noise

you stop your breathing and listen

and it’s only when sicheng is at the corner of your bed do you realize how quietly and quick he’s moved and you shine the light of your phone up to reveal his figure there

his mouth his hidden by a black mask and he has the knife in his hand and his eyes are wide - but stoic like a black, unmoving ocean

and you swallow,,,,,,,

but sicheng doesn’t stay shocked for long and you’re not nearly as fast as him because he has you pinned down in a matter of seconds

“did you set this up?”

his gentle voice is now rasping and low

“there’s no gold,,,,,”

you begin and you feel sicheng’s knife in the hand that’s holding your left wrist down

“how did you know ,,,,,how did you know i would do this?”

you feel a mixture of fear but also your suspicion has been answered

there is this other side to the prince,,,,,,the other side that you’re sure those other diplomats saw

and had to end up cowering to their governments and leaders to agree to whatever sicheng wanted

with how he was right now,,,,it was obvious that anyone would bend to his will

but you didn’t have anything to bend to, you had nothing to offer

you just wanted to know why

“why are you doing this,,,,,your country isn’t in peril, it isn’t in economic or political downfall, you haven’t had a war for over one hundred years why are you threatening people-”

sicheng’s grip on you tightens and you wince

“i don’t threaten ‘people’ i threaten their power,,,,,their power that they dont want to share. do you know my motto, you have had to have done some research before coming here?”

your mouth goes dry,,,,

he’s right you did do research so you know it

“do anything for the survival of your people”

sicheng sneers and then lets you go, you lay there and he flicks the lights on

the mask he had on is off, stuffed into the corner of his black jeans

and his hair that had been perfect, not a centimeter out of place

is now messy and falling in bangs above his eyes

he leans back against the wall of the hotel, he knows you can’t do anything to him

you know it too

so now it’s just a matter of what kind of consequence you’re going to have to pay to seeing this side of him

“you dont have to do this to them,,,,,you can just talk”

sicheng laughs and you hear the way his voice can get so so malicious when he wants it to be that way

“talk? you are a diplomat, you think things will settle with a talk. it’s not like that. and it’s especially not like that when you’re a young prince who everyone treats like a child.”

he says the last word with anger, an anger that even sends a chill down your spine

and you want to get up but you’re too scared of the knife and what will happen

but then sicheng brings it up to the light and lets it gleam, you notice that the blade isn’t even that sharp

“i don’t kill people or even harm them that much,,,,,,,i just take what my country needs.”

he sighs and you still watch the knife,,,,,the blade is cut of ornate colors of the country’s flag

it’s obviously old, expensive - it probably should be in a museum and not in sicheng’s hands right now

but you also,,,,,,cant blame him like you wanted to

you thought he was just playing some kind of twisted sick game,,,,,,but his reasoning is understandable

afterall ,,,,,,,, you know nothing about the stress of a young prince - of the ruling of a whole country

you just sometimes have to represent one

you get up, with some new found courage and sicheng watches you

“are you going to go tell the newspapers of what i really am?”

you shake your head

“i know it’d be foolish to do that.”

sicheng grins, showing off the one sharp canine of his, another trait you’d come to observe about him

he pushes himself off the wall and comes closer to you

you want to say “im scared” because you know he’ll back off if you do,,,,,he’s not a monster or a maniac

but you let him get close and you let him touch a strand of your hair

and you even let him lean in and whisper against the shell of your ear that if you’re going to keep his secret he needs to repay you back

and you say a soft, “no, it’s fine.”

but then you meet his eyes and you wonder,,,,,what is he doing,,,,,it’s over,,,,,,you know his secret

you know the second life of sicheng

this sicheng is not warm, he’s not welcoming or in anyway the prince of a country in his sleek white uniform and promises of peace

he’s someone who pries on people and steals there accomplishments and benefits for his country’s gain - and in a way his own gain

and yet he hasnt harmed you

he had pinned you down, shown that he could overpower and manipulate

but he hadn’t laid a finger on you in any offensive way and you think that all this time he’s done so much to keep you close

even before you came up with the bullshit gold story

so why?

why was he still so close to you? and why were you letting it happen after seeing this side?

none of your questions are answered, absolutely none until sicheng whispers

“no, i must repay you and i must ensure you keep my secret. i know how i can do it, too.”

you feel some kind of heat pulsate through your blood

your hearts racing your minds on fire

there’s a knife still in his pocket,,,,,,he’s got the upper hand

“h-how?”

you breath and sicheng encloses his arms around you, his touch on you is like a feather

so light, like he might break you if he holds you too close

“im going to seal it away, are you ready?”

you tilt your head, not even in a half nod but to accept what you know is coming

and you let prince sicheng kiss you

you let him seal away this side of him in your memory, never to be spoken of again

#not really even a 'villain' just a lil evil you know #sicheng au #sicheng scenarios #sicheng imagines #winwin scenarios #winwin imagines #winwin au #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct au #nct 127 au #nct #winwin #sicheng #sfw #knife/

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tumblunni · 6 years

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MORE UPDATES ON THINGS WHAT HAPPEN

The half week milestone of the hospital house thingie time! I think the term they use for it is "a residential stay"? Cos like its not a hospital its a shared housing block thats just full of doctors. I get to sleep in a real bed and there's a nice community room and board game nights and stuff. But its still really scary how intense the supervision can be! Like they have a window to look into your room once per hour every hour constantly. And they have to go through your undies and catalog them as part of the possessions check. I was not warned about that and it was mega embarassing trying to explain a binder to a bunch of old lady doctors! Oh and i had yo do a urine test today which was possibly the most fuckin embarassing thing in the actual universe. And you're not even allowed to take your own pills! They keep them locked in a big ominous wall of lockers and you have to come into the office and swallow the pill while theyre watching. I guess maybe because some people might be faking their illness and selling their pills on the black market or whatever? But that literally doesnt happen with antidepressants, they have no 'high' or even any effect at all on non-sick people. So it just makes no sense to me and its real embarassing cos like i said i suck at taking pills with plain water and without a straw. The ones i take are real damn chunky things the size of my thumbnail! I think i'l get better at not (literally) choking under pressure over time, tho. Hopefully.

Anyway that's all the bad out of the way! Now the good and the neutral and the just miscellaneous!

Its still nervewracking having to shower in a shared house but they have a cool walk-in shower and ive never tried one of those so it was vaguely interesting. And im allowed to take my showers early at 6am to minimize the chance of anyone else trying to use the door, lol. My biggest fear is having some staff member walk in on me when im naked like back in that homeless hostel. Oh or that time in the homeless hostel where the teenage boys filled the entire bathroom with inflated condoms wall to wall. Like wow so much damn effort to prank the stupid nervous bunni who probably would have been embarassed by literally anything else. Man this place is bringing so many memories of that homeless hostel but at least this time its a place specifically for sick people and they know i'm anxious doing shared cooking and board games and whatever so they dont make fun of me for it. But in a lot of ways that hostel had more freedoms too.. *shrug*

Anyway! A good! I get to have cooking lesson!! I know literally nothing about cooking and now i get to know several thing!! This nice doctor called Josie taught me how to make an omelette and i tasted ham for the first time! That is just how limited my life experiences are, lol. Oh and they want me to say that she's a 'mental health worker' not a doctor, but its all real confusing?? Like they have the staff that look after you and then the only ones we're supposed to call doctors are the ones who actually have the authority to prescribe pills and diagnosies. But like if youre in a hospital you'd call them all doctors, not just the actual surgeon? Or i guess theyre kinda like nursing home staff?? But they cant be support workers cos support workers are specific government assigned inspector type guys like Richard who only meet with you once a week.and i have to remember to not call him a social worker either cos social workers only work with family and custody related stuff. I dunno?? Basically the medical industry has a lot of names that dont really describe what the actual thing is, lol. Anyway the ham omelette was great and now im gonna try and remember so i can try and make it myself next time! HAM ACCOMPLISHED

Also i played bingo with a few other patients and it was fun but funny that i lost 6 times in a row when there were only 3 of us. I got a consolation prize of a pack of neon highlighter pens so hell yeah!!

I'm getting booked in to try some additional classes starting next week on monday and tuesday morning. The computer programming one was sadly unavailable, but i managed tp snag a place in "confidence building group therapy" and "basic how to use power tools". I wasnt really all that interested in that one but i thought it would be a useful skill even if its less fun. And maybe you get to actyally make something to take home at the end? A lil shelf to help organize this awkward lil room better, maybe?

And an unexpected bonus of being semi-hospitalized is that i get a free bus pass! And cos im here cos of my social anxiety theyre gonna help me get outside more and actually use this thing to the fullest! The first thing we did was the trip to actually get the bus pass itself. It was like "bus, take my money to take me to the place where i can never give you money again!" XD Ive been really stupidly nervous about going on tne bus in my old neighbourhood cos MAN it was really isolated there and everything just amplified my mental illness. An almost two hour bus ride to get to ANY SHOPS AT ALL, with only one bus for the whole town so it was always crowded and full of screaming kids and gossipy everyones. Social anxiety: maximum level proud mode!

So yeah i feel BIG ACCONPLISHED! I was able to take this bus for the first time with a doctor coming with me. Power Grandpa The Strong. His actual name is Paul and he has awesome sleeve tattoos of like anchors and dragons and sports teams and stuff! And he likes thrift stores and wearing silly hats too! Its like he's powerful enough to wrestle away everyone's anxieties! I was able to be a bit reckless too and i went out wearing my fave shirt thats like trans pride coloured plaid. A POWERFUL SHIRT IS REQUIRED FOR THIS QUEST! so we went to the office to register this bus pass and i panicked a bit cos apparantky we brought the wrong form and i wrote my name in the wrong box and then my passport photo looked terrible and aaa! But it all worked out and i was kinda freaking out for nothing. And he took me for a lil tour of the place and showed me this cool shop that does spray paint tye dye t shirts with spiderman on them?? Why does this incredibly specific shop exist and how have i never heard of it before?? There was also a new harry potter shop next to the disney shop, and the old used book store i used to visit as a kid was still there, complete with rickety spiral staircase and ominous basement trap door. I'm still not brave enough to go down there, but apparantly its just the history books section so meh. Then we actually went to a fancy coffee shop and i had this brain freeze mango ice frappucchino thing! Im trying all the new foods!!

And i was TOO HIGH ON DECADENCE and made a RECKLESS CHOICE! i blame power gramp's amazing tattoos, they were totally whispering to me that i shoukd screw the rules and ride off into the sunset on a metaphorical harley davidsen of mental health

So i was like Hey Paul I Am Totally Fine Getting Home On My Own, and it was like i was floating off in the distance somewhere begging my body to not speaketh these words. But it ended up working out okay! The excitement of it all and the sense of accomplishmebt from getting there all okay allowed me to mostly not freak out as i spent the day in town and looked at some shops and stuff. Basic Living Skills: Completed! I chilled out in the library (tho i dont have a card yet, alas!) and visited like five comic and anime stores, and got lost but found a Pizza Hut and that was SO NOSTALGIC FOR MY CHILDHOOD and it didnt taste quite as good as i remembered but the waiter guy was super nice and had a similar shirt and it was All Good! Oh and i gave all my money to a homeless person and that's why i'm broke now. And i bought a plastic slug! I just saw it from across the room and was like OH NO I AM BEING MAGNETISED TOWARDS IT OH NO IT HAS ALREADY BEEN BOUGHT. I need to think of a name for this new friend!!

So yeh i got home okay and i felt really acconplished and that was the furthest trip away that i've taken in ages! Man my mental illness makes me feel pathetic, but it also brings ridiculously big joys from the smallest of silly acconplishys!

Oh and thank you so much to the people who sent me emails! It really helped so much to keep me from giving up during the first few days before i made a bit of progress and felt like i could really do this, yknow? Especially big thanks tp the friend who sent me that mysterious super happy song that they found on a mystery disc in a german market?? Im still not sure whether its in greek or hasidic jewish but it sounds AMAZING and i hope someday i can figure out the band so i can hear their other singles!

Ok this is bunni out! BIG HUGS FOR THE EVERYONE AAAA

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