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sugar-grigri · 1 month

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analyze the ball kicking scene 🫶🏼 (out of joke, love your posts <3)

Yes, even kicking balls has symbolism in Chainsaw Man

You're joking, Anon, but I wanted to do a post about it yesterday, and now you've given me the opportunity. Everything in this chapter is about the symbolism of kicking balls, yes, even the beginning!

Haruka Iseumi flicks through several TV channels, rather blasély, until he comes across a woman whose speech seems to resonate with him, a woman who seems to feel betrayed, disoriented like these teenagers who have been put in danger by an institution that has never seen their good, the church. But this girl only talks about her disappointment following a scandal surrounding over-mediatized stars.

What Haruka is going through right now is disillusionment, believing that his problems would have been taken seriously, his situation as an escaped high school terrorist, would have interested the public. But people prefer not to face up to these kinds of problems; an epidemic of people turned into demons is as commonplace as wars. To avoid jeopardizing personal comfort, people prefer to focus on other problems. Because people literally don't have the balls to face reality.

But contrary to what Haruka thinks, he's not so different: he's also an angst-ridden child who had totally surrendered to his idol, Chainsaw Man, to the point of convincing himself that he was bound to him, even pretending to be him for a semblance of trust. What the chapter seems to show is that Haruka is more down to earth than that girl on TV, but what it really shows is that he's exactly like that girl, but no longer admits it to himself.

No, Haruka, you're not dreaming, or rather you have been until now and now you can't do it anymore.

Because you've reached his idol, you have literally reassembled his image, you've seen the boy you have no interest in behind that reassuring mask.

What this chapter is about is the illusion into which we accept to insert ourselves in order to better resist our fears and existential ills.

Denji doesn't have to exist to shatter the illusions he needs to survive; even his awakening and his speech are too much, as his image no longer matches the one he wears as a universal puppet. He's literally cuter when he's inanimate, because that's what he's made for. At least, that's the only way we accept him. He's made to fill your person, and it's impossible for Chainsaw Man to be a person in his own right.

As proof of this, when Denji wakes up, his first reflex is not to discover that he's complete again, for he exists only to fill others, hence his question to Asa as to where her arm has gone. Unknowingly, Denji has accepted his role.

For Katana Man and Yoru, Chainsaw Man is a goal, a dream to be achieved. Seeing the person behind it, the other half, disturbs them. Considering it might even make them reconsider their choices.

Katana Man has deluded himself into believing that Denji no longer has the heart of a man, that he was his grandfather's tormentor and not the child who was the victim. He needs this revenge to move forward, just as Yoru, as a war demon, needs to fight an unattainable adversary to continue wreaking havoc.

But what's that got to do with it? What does this have to do with beating Denji's balls off?

Who kicked Katana Man in the balls? Aki and Denji. If Chainsaw Man is the metaphor for the comforting illusion of others, Aki is the symbol that revenge (often impossible) is a long-term, survival goal for hearts scarred by resentment. Beating the balls off? The meeting of the two.

When Aki and Denji beat up Katana Man, the illusion of a proud, virile, traditional man who swore by his honor had been shattered. What Katana Man represented to himself and to the readers, this formidable adversary, had been dismantled.

But above all, this was a gentle, more accessible form of revenge, one that would allow us to survive, a way for Aki to avenge Himeno in her own way, without actually avenging her. It's about beating your opponent while admitting you've lost in some way.

Similarly, when Katana Man and Yoru defeat Denji, they lead to a renewed desire to dismantle Chainsaw Man's image. To bring it together as their long-term goal of revenge. But despite this balance of power, this gesture symbolically demonstrates that they are not certain of their victory.

Above all, the important answer in this chapter is once again in the background.

Fami continues to eat undisturbed. She eats all the time, but in this chapter, she seemed almost to be regaining her strength.

Why was that?

Her plan was clear, to make people fear Chainsaw Man as well as the war, to make Yoru and Chainsaw Man champions. But what about the media? They prefer to do what's most profitable, keeping viewers entertained for as long as possible, so that they forget about the real issues.

People prefer to delude themselves, to dream dreams, rather than focus on reality, so will Chainsaw Man and Yoru have their strength increased to the point where they'll be potential opponents for death?

because people are already escaping the fear of death through entertainment, which is even the best champion.

Instead of thinking about our existential crises, we flood our brains with unimportant information.

As the philosopher Pascal would say: "Since men have not been able to cure death, misery and ignorance, they have decided, in order to make themselves happy, not to think about them. Notwithstanding these miseries, he wants to be happy, and only wants to be happy, and cannot not want to be happy".

But let's close this loop of questions: if Chainsaw Man allows this comforting disillusionment, Denji is the opposite, something we refuse to see, if Chainsaw Man is a dream, Denji is reality. Let's get back to our main subject: beating up balls.

When Aki first beat Denji up, he wanted to disgust him enough to prevent him from signing up as a public hunter. Literally, he preferred to spare Denji from reality, by killing the symbol that is Denji (did you miss the headaches I caused?). But when Denji retaliates, to insist that he wants to enlist, it's the other way around: it's the harshness of reality that Denji fully accepts that will prevail over Aki's attempt to protect him.

When Katana Man and Yoru beat Denji's balls off, in reality they're trying to fight the reality of what Chainsaw Man is, this mixture between a boy, reality, and the bloodthirsty enemy, the dream, Chainsaw Man. Beating up Denji is an attempt to avoid the harshness of life. It's that illusion.

So when Denji helped Aki beat up Katana Man, he allowed him to escape his survival mechanisms, his revenge, his illusion, by enjoying the present moment, pure reality. But when Denji defeated Aki, it was also the announcement of the reality of Aki's fate, which would outweigh this illusion - the success of his revenge.

That's why Pochita, the dream and illusion, prevents Denji from opening the door. When Denji sees reality, he can't help opening it. Just as Makima concentrated on her Chainsaw Man dream without seeing reality, Denji right behind it. Just as the dream allows Denji to escape reality, the contract between Denji and Pochita has allowed Denji to become someone else, escaping from himself, himself a victim of the dream without being able to know exactly what he is.

But don't forget, beating the balls off is Denji's tactic.

Why is that? Because no matter how hard you try to escape it, reality will always prevail.

#csm 163 #chainsaw #chainsaw man spoilers #chainsaw man #csm part 2 #Denji #denji hayakawa #asa Mitaka #iseumi #haruka iseumi #aki hayakawa #yoru #katana #katana man #my thoughts #ask #THANK YOU

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lav-endermoon · 3 months

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i think i speak for all of us when i say that i am mentally and emotionally exhausted. aside from many reblogs, i've held off on posting about the wilbur situation for the sole reason that it is difficult for me to cope with. to be clear, i will no longer be posting in support of cc!wilbur or lovejoy, nor will i be interacting with those who continue to. time will tell if i continue posting about his characters - i've been drifting away from dsmp for a while now, and at the moment i feel very uncomfortable associating with anything related to wilbur.

i'm going to take some time off tumblr to process all of this (seriously, if you see me on here, please yell at me), but before i go i want to say that we should thank shelby for exposing the truth, being vulnerable, and opening up conversations that needed to be had. deplatforming wilbur and spreading the word of his actions is important, but our energy also needs to be directed to supporting her.

i hope that after a long series of mcyt scandals (<- for lack of a better word - feels a bit reductive), this is a wakeup call for people to stop putting their emotional stability in the hands of public figures and realize that anything they show us not only could be, but most likely is, a facade. i say "public figures" because this is not an mcyt problem - it's a problem within content creator circles in general. recent situations have displayed what happens when parasociality/idolization becomes dangerous. the amount of people in these communities who resort to downplaying and dismissing victims or blatantly upholding abusers, all in the name of keeping their fave on a pedestal, is disturbing. this is a conversation that needs to continue, for the sake of victims and those who fall into unhealthy patterns of idolization. we need to change the way our communities treat victims, and we need to think critically when engaging with CCs who we will never know personally.

none of this is to say that anyone's feelings of grief are invalid. this is a hard thing to come to terms with. it's hitting me that i was deceived by the person who influenced me to become a songwriter, whose music found me at the most relevant time, who wrote a character who i could connect with during a time where i felt deeply alone, who wrote a story that brought me so much joy and comfort at my darkest hour and inspired so many creative projects. i feel hurt and betrayed. even though all the time and love i devoted to his content was voluntary, i still feel like something has been taken from me. like i've been taken advantage of - not just by him, but by the entire industry that he is a part of. i feel manipulated, threatened, and unsafe, and those feelings have been an undercurrent throughout my time in this fandom.

your attention is quite literally currency, and you should assume that creators will try to exploit it. our brains are hardwired to trust others, not to tell the difference between real human connection and a streamer broadcasting their personal life + showing affection to their audience. don't blame yourself for the effects of an inherently parasocial type of content. don't blame yourself for having an emotional attachment to someone or something that once brought you comfort. be gentle with yourself right now, and going forward, examine how the content you consume makes you feel. how does it make you act? how does it change your thoughts? what biases do you have? these forms of content can be deeply manipulative and putting up a mental boundary is important - and, like shelby said, listen to your gut. we need to remember that they are profiting off of us and learn how to keep ourselves safe psychologically. this is another conversation that needs to continue.

take care of yourselves.

#wilbur situation #wilbur soot #this is long and discursive but i'm exhausted man #apologies if this is poorly strung together. trying my best with the state im in #my post

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botanical-garden-system · 5 months

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Honestly, this post is going to be a lot about system tropes and stereotypes in shows.

Today I finished watching the show “Ratched” about Nurse Ratched. It was an amazing show- I personally loved it and I loved the color palette that was used. Everything was going quite well until,,, they dropped someone who had DID into the mix.

In case you haven’t watched the show and plan on it, there will be spoilers below!

Every other disorder was not portrayed in extremes, and there was even a scene where the doctor called out Ratched’s “brother” for acting wayy too close to the books of how someone with schizophrenia would act to be seen as “insane.”

Since the show was based in 1940s-1950s, I appreciated that even though they used accurate historical depictions of how ppl treated being gay, they made it CLEAR that this was morally horrible and incorrect.

They did not even ATTEMPT the same thing with someone having DID.

We first get introduced to the character “Charolette Wells” who Dr. Hanover said has “multiple personality disorder” because of her switching between different characters.

Even her introduction made me cringe and seize up with absolute fucking distaste. She is introduced as Ondine Duquette, who harassed an artist for playing a violin and acted aggressive. Charolette, however, was very shy and closed in (she was also treated as the,, “core” basically- which was kind of how they approached DID back then so I kind of tried to shrug it off)

It got even more frustrating when it was ONE session with Dr. Hanover and suddenly she was “cured.” Like Charolette had all control, the “violent alter” was gone, and she was suddenly relieved of her trauma??? BECAUSE OF HYPNOSIS???? I literally held my face in absolute disgust over this shit and this isn’t even the WORST part.

Fast forward to later: Dr. Hanover leaves the hospital because of his past and takes Charolette with her. Well. He pushes her into a trigger again—which I will give the show credit for, I am glad they didn’t stick with the bandaid solution of ONE SESSION of therapy magically making years of trauma go away—and it forces Ondine out again. Who. Also believed Dr. Hanover was. Hitler and that she was killing Hitler…???

So obviously she. Decides to murder Dr. Hanover- which we see Charolette wake up to this in obvious horror bc she doesn’t remember what happened. It just gets worse.

Then later, she comes BACK to the fucking hospital AS Dr. Hanover and she kills one nurse while forcing the OTHER nurse to release the fucking murderer??? After that, she (It’s so unclear who the alter is fronting at the time bc there’s a lot of time switching) literally teams up with this murderer and follows him around killing people????

Onto the rant I wanted to discuss…

This is by far not the first nor last time we have seen this.

We have seen this in popular media that many people like—like fucking danganronpa, where this character loves to use the R slur and be actively racist.

It is an obsession of demonizing mental illness once again. It sucks because now knowing we experience DID makes this trope even harder to enjoy medias with. I love studying psychology, and I already cringe at the absolute bullshit they throw out and label certain disorders. I don’t know why though, but seeing media portrayals around schizophrenia and DID just make my blood boil and anger me to the extra mile.

We are the victims. We are the ones violence is forced on.

Why is it such a fucking obsession??? Honestly, blaming other systems for being the reason we aren’t “taken seriously” is extremely misdirected and false. WE WERE BEING BLAMED FROM THE START!!!

Anyway, I wanted to get this off my chest because it made me fucking mad and it’s also useful for any system who is uncomfortable with this show now because of its decisions.

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mymistakewriting · 3 months

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Howard 'Chimney' Han headcanons & thoughts

Let me start this post out with a heads up because I'm sure something I say here is going to upset someone. I've seen how divided some of this fandom is on Chimney. NOTHING I SAY HERE SHOULD BE TAKEN AS ME BASHING A CHARACTER. I have several opinions on Chimney. My opinions and feelings on Chimney are VERY complicated and I'll do my best to explain them all.

And now, let me begin with the question posed to me by @happilylovingchaos

Heritage: Because he lost his mother so young and he stayed in the United States instead of returning with his father back to South Korea after her passing, his exposure to his heritage was limited (and rather tainted) despite another family taking him in. Because of this, I'm very sure his feelings towards his heritage is complicated - he's proud of where he comes from, he'll happily answer questions or discuss it if people want to hear it.

I do fully believe he intends to make sure Jee-Yun is aware of and connected with that portion of her heritage, he does still hold it close even if he doesn't feel as connected with it himself. Additionally, I think he uses the language pretty fluidly, kind of like how Eddie occasionally slips in a Spanish word, Chimney slips in a Korean word or phrase when he thinks it matches what he wants to say more. That said, I don't think it's something he uses often.

Other: For all that the show frames Chimney as the funny guy who takes nothing seriously, ESPECIALLY when paired against Hen, I don't think he is. He's not the comic relief, he's not the guy that's always joking around. And I see that misconception a lot in the fandom as well. He definitely uses humor as a coping mechanism, don't get me wrong, but he's usually the one balancing Hen's more wild ideas. He acts as her balance - her savior complex versus his need to stay well within the bounds he's been given because he knows and has seen what can happen if he oversteps those bounds for even a moment. Better read as her savior complex versus his survivor's guilt.

He's not fit to be a full time captain. He did passably well as interim captain in the show, however he has the tendency to focus on the wrong things and he tends to freeze when he's under pressure and asked to make the calls. If he worked on that, he'd make an amazing captain. Personally, I think he should be paramedic in charge for a-shift at some point. He'd thrive in that position. However, to do so would mean he would have to take a step back from the rescue (firefighter) portion of his job to focus more on the medical side and I just can't see him doing that.

He does owe Buck an apology for punching him during the situation with Maddie. But not because it was uncalled for. Yes, he shouldn't have hit Buck because frankly, I'm half sure at the time Buck didn't know where the hell Maddie was, it was just another time that she'd up and ran away like she always did when he was little. However, in the situation? I understand why he did. He shouldn't apologize because oh he hurt Buck and Buck's everyone's favorite - he should apologize because it was a moment of high emotion and they both should have communicated better. He isn't a terrible person for reacting as a worried partner who wasn't being told the truth. It was just a shitty situation. For everyone.

This one is just fun. He's the reason Buck trained Ravi the way he did. Chimney certainly didn't give Buck an easy time during his probationary year, and Buck took that to heart. He's tough enough to handle the job because of how Chimney helped train him in his mind, so of course he paid it forward. I'm pretty sure Chimney got a laugh out of the stories when Hen told him.

Chimney handles being the partner of a domestic abuse victim beautifully. He knows that sometimes, things are going to happen that trigger a memory or reaction that don't make a whole lot of sense. The fact that he's been shown to roll with the punches and let Maddie make the calls on how fast they do something? Beautiful. I adore their relationship SOLELY for Chimney's side of it and how considerate he is of the fact that he hasn't been there, he doesn't understand everything she's been through. But he still tries to make sure she knows she's safe and loved and valued. He is exactly the kind of partner she needed after what she lived through with Doug.

#kieran talks #911 #chimney han #911 chimney #tw: mentions of abuse #I still have thoughts about him but none of the rest want to be put to words so a part 2 will happen eventually.

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 2 years

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Domestic abuse victims are reporting abuse to the police several times before appropriate action is taken, with those from black and ethnic minority backgrounds disproportionately dismissed and sidelined, according to new research.

The research has been carried out by the charity Victim Support – the country’s biggest provider of domestic abuse services. More than 1,000 women (1,004) who have experienced domestic abuse were polled, at least 150 of them women of colour.

The new data has been published to coincide with 16 days of activism against gender-based violence, led by civil society organisations and supported by the UN, which began on Friday.

According to new government data published on Friday from the Crime Survey for England and Wales, an estimated 6.9% of women and 3% of men experienced domestic abuse in the year ending March 2022 – 1.7 million women and 699,000 men. The new data shows no significant change in the prevalence of domestic violence in the last year.

The Victim Support research found:

• More than half of all respondents – 53% – reported an instance of domestic abuse at least twice before they felt appropriate action was taken by the police.

• Nearly a quarter – 24% – reported an instance of domestic abuse to the police three times or more before appropriate action was taken.

• More than one in 10 – 12% – said that they do not feel appropriate action was ever taken.

• When reporting domestic abuse, almost half – 48% – of black and ethnic minority respondents felt that the police treated them differently from other people because of their ethnic background or heritage.

“I believe I was dealt with wrongly by the police because I’m from an ethnic minority,” a 31-year-old woman told The Guardian. Her former partner pleaded guilty to abusing her in court earlier this month.

“I’m black, I’m 5ft 10in tall and I’m articulate. The police kept saying to me: ‘You’re strong.’ Why am I strong? Just because I look OK on the outside doesn’t mean I’m feeling OK on the inside. I’ve been diagnosed with severe trauma, anxiety and PTSD.”

Her former partner began to physically abuse her in December 2021. He was also exercising coercive control over her, hacking her phone so that any messages she received popped up in real time on his laptop. He threatened to circulate intimate photos of her and pulled her hair out. He also knocked out two of her front teeth and fractured some of her bottom teeth. She still has fragments of teeth embedded in her gums.

She said that while he was prosecuted and pleaded guilty she was not kept informed about what was happening with the case. “I have lost faith in the criminal justice system,” she said.

“Victims come in different shapes, sizes, colours and genders – there is no blueprint. But abusers have the same blueprint and they all speak the same language. Abusers don’t change. They just learn how to cover things up better.”

Valerie Wise, national domestic abuse lead at Victim Support, said: “The police receive a call for help relating to domestic abuse every 30 seconds. It takes a huge amount of courage to come forward – victims need to know that their report will be handled with the upmost seriousness, and not dismissed.”

“The idea that someone’s race or appearance could impact the care they receive and their access to justice is appalling. On average, domestic abuse leads to two women being murdered every week in England and Wales – the stakes are too high for the police to not be getting this right every time.”

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abumblebeeat221b · 2 years

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the BBC should have never allowed Disney anywhere near Doctor Who. while i’m sure they are getting a nice sum in exchange for those a-bit-more-than “airing rights”, what Disney will never understand is that the show’s budget has never been a problem (quite the opposite, really).

yes, Doctor Who has always been a bit silly, at times the aliens do look a bit cheap, but we *actually* like the Dalek’s eyestalks resembling plungers and the sets hold together by silly string, bubble wrap and hope: if the BBC had been more generous with its budget back in 1963 the Doctor wouldn’t be travelling in a police box that’s bigger on the inside. if the budget had been bigger during RTD first run, we’d have never got the Weeping Angles - and if you ask me, they were the scariest before we saw them move on screen. Silence of the Library made a generation afraid of shadows. and Midnight is easily more horrifying than any “proper” sci-fi horror story, including Alien. the stories work *because* of the velco and duct tape not in spite of it. unlike Marvel, Doctor Who has never taken itself too seriously and at this point, the wobbly sets and ridiculous costumes have become part of the show’s charm. if that’s not what you’re here for, then you’re watching the wrong show.

but what makes Doctor Who genuinely unique are the ideas it explores, the writing. and the funny thing about good writing is that it doesn’t need much CGI to pull a good story off. at the same time, you cannot improve a bad plot by throwing money or CGI at it. ironically, i believe Chibnall’s run would have been way better if he had stuck to making (close to?) 13 episodes plus one Christmas special each series (or if, at least, his budget per episode had been closer to what Steven Moffat’s had been back in the day). that way, he would have had to take the time to create well-constructed plots and explore the problems they come with. the Master posing in 1916 as Rasputin? brilliant! imagine all the fun turns that story could have taken. Tegan and Ace meeting the Doctor and Yaz again, and stopping an alien invasion while also working through some emotions? yes please! however, somehow that’s not the story we ended up with.

at the end of the day, i’m afraid that nice, big budgets encourage messy plot lines with a lot of potential, but which, ultimately, don’t get resolved. funnily enough, i’ve only known this problem from other franchises, and i’m not looking forward to Doctor Who being the latest victim of that stupid mouse.

#doctor who #disney #bbc #times are changing #i'm not saying the BBC shouldn't give Doctor Who a nicer budget #but that in the long run Disney will do more harm than good #i may or may not have typed this while listening to #Murray Gold

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beardedmrbean · 2 years

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Roswell, Georgia, -- Two preschool teachers have been arrested in Georgia after they were caught on livestream video abusing toddlers at a school.

The suspects, identified as 40-year-old Zeina Alostwani and 19-year-old Soriana Briceno, were taken into custody on charges of cruelty to children after parents saw them abusing the children on a live video from a classroom in Parker-Chase preschool in Roswell, the New York Post reported.

The incident, which was witnessed by two parents as it unfolded, took place in a classroom for 3-year-old children last week. A mother checking on her son saw a teacher standing on a child's hand and bumping another student with her knee from behind. The video also showed another teacher using a finger to push another child's forehead back.

"It was a matter of seconds, and knew what we had seen was deliberate and my stomach was just in my throat at that point," the mother of one of the victims, who did not want to be identified, said, according to WSB-TV.

After the incident was reported, the school officials removed the accused employees from the classroom and later fired them. The investigators reviewed the video and arrested the suspects.

Meanwhile, Endeavor Schools, the parent company of Parker-Chase, admitted in a written statement that two of their staff members resorted to "inappropriate disciplinary actions."

"While we are extremely grateful that the children are well, we take this matter seriously, and our investigation is ongoing. We expect our staff to adhere to the highest standards of care, and any failure to do so will not be tolerated," the statement read, as per WSB-TV.

The school officials said they have reported the incident to its licensing agency and the state's Department of Child Protective Services, according to The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Several other victims have also come forward since the arrests were made. Roswell police then said they have started an investigation. "So we have several weeks of video to go back and review to make sure there are no other instances of this kind of behavior," WSB-TV quoted the police as saying.

The suspects appeared in court Tuesday. Alostwani was granted a $75,000 bond, while Briceno did not receive a bond due to her asylum and immigration status.

#nunyas news

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socratetris · 1 year

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Reviewing: The Boxer - Spoiler Free

The Boxer is the first webtoon comic I chose to read. When i read comics, I typically turn to stories action series, and I gravitate most toward grounded/realistic stories than say the fantasy battlws of most shounen manga. This is because these stories remind me why I love martial arts and combat sports, even though i had to give them up years ago.

Having just finished all the boxing/combat sports related shows/anime I could think of - i.e. Baki, Kengan Asura, Hajime no Ippo, Megalobox, Levius, etc - I turned to manga. Found some great ones like Teppu! Or All Rounder Meguru, and became a little disillusioned when others didn't scratch that itch.

Wouldn't you know it, but one of the top comics when i downloaded the app was The Boxer. A somewhat edgy, christian-imagery forward, victim of bullying with natural talent, finding the sport of boxing. A premise we have seen done quite often, and as I would come to learn seems to be the main set up for combat sports comics from South Korea.

The Boxer, however, was my first, and so I didn't see it as a trope. I saw the trauma of the main character to be the premise of a story of personal growth through sport. The main character, Yu, stilted and despressed from a vaguely represented abusive childhood, learning to connect emotionally and build personal character through boxing.

This was not the story the author would tell.

Strangely, The Boxer contains practically no boxing whatsoever. Chapters build up by exploring character histories and motivations, while the grand fights almost always end in a single punch by Yu. If not one punch, then a few, but the fights themselves are almost never depicted in illustration.

While the comments praise Yu for being the strongest boy that ever did strong, the process of reading The Boxer as a person who loves the sport feels like active contempt for everything that goes into it.

Training, technique, weight, reach, study and strategy, history, nutrition, and everything that goes into becoming a skilled fighter are ignored and ridiculed. Instead, "natural talent" is insurmountable, and the source of natural talent is apparently trauma and depression. The more traumatized the main character becomes, the more powerful they become, the more their single punch per matches mock the very idea of sport.

I put the comic down while it was still ongoing, only returning much later now that the series is complete.

At its conclusion, I understand that The Boxer was never meant to be a story about boxing. It was, from the beginning, a story about The Problem of Evil from a Christian world view, and that one honest connection with another person makes that problem tolerable.

The story mocks the sport of boxing precisely because boxing is seen as a meritocracy. Once in the ring, the winner is simply the person who is better at the sport of boxing. The sport was chosen to emphasize that the world is unfair through a character that is simply superior for being superior.

From a literal sense, this story fails represent the sport, because its concept of "natural talent" is so esoteric as to fail to represent the reality of the sport. It is only after the characters become metaphorical symbols of either Sorrow or Hope that the story can be taken seriously as an allegory.

If you read The Boxer for a love of boxing, then I believe you will be too dissatisfied to enjoy it. However, if you read The Boxer to indulge in an edgy power fantasy that honestly attempts to legitimize the ongoing struggles of personal trauma, through the lens of Christianity, then I believe you will enjoy this comic quite a lot.

#webtoon #Review #comics #boxing #sports #spoiler free #the boxer

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clevercorvidae · 2 years

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yeah like if there is a victim coming forward with an accusation then it absolutely needs to be taken seriously, but that just wasn't what it was. i really didn't understand why this spiraled out of control as much as it didn't because if you looked at the actual thread there just wasn't anything that showed grooming. it was as if people just read the headline and went retweet

no cause that had to be what happened. just reading the thread nearly drove me crazy cause it was literally just Some Guy saying smth happened stuffed with a bunch of unrelated proveable shit to boost its credibility ig? but none of it was relevant. and somehow ppl ate it up. like, the only screenshot that had the supposed victim in it was where dream sent the jokey sex mod. there wasnt even proof that person was a minor, or proof they had consented to that other person making this claim for them. it was a total incomprehensible mess. and its insane how people just read the title and immediately went into mass hysteria.

#asks #grooming mention #discourse #ive got hella criticisms for dream but fuck dude has it rough #just straight up actual slander

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healthstyle101 · 8 months

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Judge's Decision Shocks Crime-Fighting Mom in Bike Thief Campaign

Crime-Fighting Mom Advocates for Justice A determined mother in the United Kingdom has expressed her frustration at what she perceives as a lenient punishment for a notorious bike thief. Fiona Bateman, a resident of Witney, Oxfordshire, made headlines in 2021 for her relentless efforts to bring a prolific bike thief to justice. The story began when her neighbor's security camera captured footage of a suspect stealing her son Graeme's mountain bike from their garage. Bateman, undeterred by the initial inaction of the local police, took matters into her own hands. A DIY Approach to Justice "I found it incredibly frustrating that even though we gave the police video evidence clearly showing Dave cycling into our shared carport in November 2021, using bolt cutters to cut the lock on Graeme’s bike and leaving on his bike with Graeme’s in one hand, the police were unable to do anything," Bateman told us. With no official support, she devised a simple but effective tactic: protesting outside the alleged thief's home. Armed with a sign that asked the straightforward question, "Where’s my bike, Dave?" Bateman staged a peaceful sit-in outside the suspect's residence. Support from the Community Although her husband expressed concerns for her safety and called the police, they advised Bateman not to obstruct the suspect or engage in confrontations. Undeterred, she maintained her peaceful protest for three days. Local support poured in, with neighbors even providing her with hot chocolate and flowers. The Unexpected Consequences While she did not recover her son's stolen bike, Bateman's actions had a ripple effect. Other victims of bike theft came forward, leading to police interviews and, ultimately, a court appearance for the alleged thief, David Seagar. However, Graeme's bike was notably absent from the list of charges against Seagar. Police Response Thames Valley Police responded to the situation by stating that they take all reports of cycle theft seriously and will investigate when such reports are made. They encouraged anyone with further information to come forward and provided information about security bike marking events and bike safety tips on their website. The Outcome David Seagar, accused of stealing at least eight bikes in Witney in 2021, received a sentence of two years' imprisonment, suspended for two years. In addition, he was ordered to complete a drug rehab program and "thinking skills" courses, with the condition that he stay out of legal trouble for the next two years. Fiona Bateman remains unsatisfied with this outcome, believing that minor crimes should be taken more seriously, despite the challenges facing the police force. As she continues to work toward justice and consider the future of her son's transportation, one question remains: "Where's my bike, Dave?" Read the full article

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brettbarnesmj · 8 months

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On January 27, 2019, Brett Barnes took to Twitter and posted a tweet that sparked a considerable amount of controversy. In his tweet, he made an unusual comparison between sexual abuse and a famous science fiction movie, "Independence Day." The tweet read as follows:

"So people are getting their facts from a movie now? I wonder how they feel about the documentary showing the great alien invasion of '96. I think it was called Independence Day."

It is important to address the concerns raised about this tweet, as it raises questions about the appropriateness and potential impact of such comparisons. Comparing a serious matter like sexual abuse to a Hollywood blockbuster can be seen as disrespectful and inappropriate.

Victims of sexual abuse often struggle with speaking out, fearing judgement or not being taken seriously. Hence, any attempt to trivialize or make light of their experiences has the potential to discourage others from coming forward.

While everyone is entitled to their opinions and freedom of speech, it is crucial to create an environment that encourages empathy and support for victims of abuse. A tweet like this can inadvertently perpetuate the negative stigma surrounding sexual abuse and undermine the efforts of those who seek justice and healing.

It is essential for individuals to exercise sensitivity and consider the potential impact of their words, especially when discussing sensitive topics like abuse. Only through open and respectful dialogue can we foster a community that supports survivors and works towards preventing such incidents from occurring in the future.

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the-expose-on-girls · 11 months

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NOW HIRING: trendy white girls

Apply inside

Last year, I was hunting for a job with better pay. In a random "might as well" moment, I submitted my resume at a local, independently owned clothing boutique. It wasn't optimal, but might be a small step up until I found The Dream Job. Surprisingly, I got called in for an interview!

During the chat with the owner, she asked me countless questions about my background in fashion and experience with making my own clothes. I thought this odd, since the boutique sells clothing brought in from LA—nothing there is handmade. Nevertheless, I described to her the types of clothing I have made before. After about 15 minutes, I was sent on my way. Would my years of customer service and sales experience get me the job? The answer was prompt. That evening, they called to let me know they were "moving forward with other candidates".

I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Honestly, it put a dent in my confidence about the skills on my resume. With my degree, experience, and flawless track record of work ethic, I should be able to get an entry level job anywhere, right? Especially in rural podunk town. Right??? Questions swirled in my mind for weeks after that. Is my college degree worth nothing? Do I look like someone who isn't even good enough to deliver pizza? With no reason given as to why they rejected me, my imagination was free to attack my self confidence with all sorts of made-up explanations.

Then one day out of boredom and curiosity, I followed that boutique on social media. In their latest post, their sales girls were modeling their new fall items in true Christian Girl Autumn style, tossing their ballayage hair.

A month later, a video showed the sales girls strutting down a brick-lined back alley in puffy winter coats and knee-high boots, Instagram airbrush makeup impervious to the snowfall.

In April, they started advertising their summer vacation outfits, the sales girls smashing cowboy hats down on their Beachy Waves while kicking up their matching cowboy ankle boots. (Gag)

I realized that I didn't get hired because my resume was lacking or my customer service was any less than top notch. It's most likely that I didn't get hired because I am not curvy, blond, makeup-caked, Instagram-trendy, basic "GOALZ". What they wanted was basic white girl models who would say "GURRL SLAYYY" to customers exiting the fitting rooms and could be trained to use a cash register. (But they can't come out and say that obviously, because equal opportunity laws.) They know that nothing would appeal to their basic white girl customers like other basic white girls. That's how cookie cutters and clones are—they all drool over each other as "GOALS" to a point where they all end up looking identical. Also, the boutique didn't actually want someone who could make clothes. I could be misjudging, but the girls working there look like they can't sew a stitch and are too hung up on fast fashion to ever be interested in learning.

I had to remind myself that, from the start, this wasn't a job to be taken too seriously. Going into it, I had only considered it as a stepping stone job. I chided myself for letting the rejection get to me like it did.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a rant to play victim and get people to feel sorry for me. I wanted to share one of my personal experiences in job hunting to help other non-basic girls be aware of unspoken standards that exist at some businesses. Don't let them shake your confidence in yourself and your skills. If they adhere so closely to cookie cutter Instagram girl protocols, then you are better off not working there. Go find a job somewhere that will appreciate and exercise your skills and talent.

Maybe it's just me, but I would rather be valued for what I am capable of accomplishing than how closely I match the basic white girl mold.

#basic white girls #basic bitch #job hunting #job interview #instagram girls

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todaysdocument · 3 years

Photo

Clippings from the Tulsa Tribune about the Tulsa Race Massacre, 6/5/1921.

These come from the Red Cross report about the disaster. Find more photos, stats, and other information at the link.

Series: Central Decimal Files, 1881 - 1982

Collection: Records of the American National Red Cross, 1881 - 2008

Transcription:

TULSA TRIBUNE, JUNE 5th., 1921

[newspaper article]

Principal Negro Business Section and Church Swept by Riot Flames

[handwritten] June 5 [/handwritten]

[4 photos]

Upper left and lower right pictures: Tower of destroyed Mt. Zion Baptist church and ruins of church proper. Guardsmen declare negro snipers kept up an incessant fire from the tower until the church was fired. Other negroes with arms were barricaded in the church, whites claimed.

Upper right: East side of Greenwood avenue looking north from Archer street. This block formed the principal negro business district.

Lower left: West side of Greenwood avenue, looking north from Archer street. Third high building was the plant of the Tulsa Star, where the negroes are said to have congregated with arms just before their sally to the court house.

[page 2]

[newspaper articles]

First Fires in Wake of Fighting Were Close to Business District

[photo of fire]

[Caption: This picture shows the first series of fires which followed the rioting Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. It was taken from the top of the Daniel building shortly after the torch had been plied to the blocks of homes and business houses owned by negroes on Boston and Cincinnati avenues, north of the Frisco traiks. The arrow hangs over the spot where there was brisk fighting between the b(illegible) and whites, in the vicinity of the Frisco depot. The first place to be burned was here. White forces applied the torch to a house in which a number of negroes were barricaded. Several negroes were reported shot as rushed from this house.

'GIVE AT ONCE' AVERY'S PLEA TO SAVE CITY

FUND TOTAL IS LESS THAN $3,000; SIX FIGURES NEEDED

Approximately $9,000 had been turned into the coffers of the Public Welfare Fund for relief and reconstruction among sufferers in the burned area at the last accounting yesterday. Subscriptions were not being received in the number which the board must receive them if the immense work of feeding and housing several thousand homeless negroes is to go on unhampered, Cyrus S. Avery, treasurer of the board, declared.

"We can only apply to every citizen to make a generous subscription without delay," said Mr. Avery last night. "These funds are not needed for any sentimental purpose or for pampering or favoring anybody. They are absolutely necessary for buying food and shelter and plain necessities of life for about 5,000 negroes now ch(illegible)ges on this city.

"The Public Welfare Board has not yet defintely outlined its policy of finance and contribution payments, but there is no doubt about the money being needed badly in large amounts for temporary relief alone. And whatever plan is adopted. We shall have to have not hundreds of dollars but hundreds of thousands of dollars before this restoration work is complete, even in the most primary sense. All donations are carefully recorded, and if there should be any surplus, the amount will be prorated and returned. But at present there is only one thought in front of us--get the job done that is right before (illegible) and pay for it."

Avery stated that about 500 negroes still are camping in the concentration center at the free fair grounds, where meals are now being prepared under their own direction. Scores of colored folks are back in their own neighborhood living in tents, however, for the Red Cross erected a tent city near the Booker T. Washington school late yesterday to afford housing and relieve the congestion at the fairgrounds.

4 MORE BLACKS DEAD, TOTAL OF KNOWN DEAD 31

TWO BODIES ARE RECOVERED IN RUINS OF BUILDINGS ON GREENWOOD AV.

Late last night Major Paul R. Brown forwarded a formal report to Brig. Gen. Barrett at Oklahoma City fixing the total number of dead at 36, 10 whites and 26 negroes. The report lists as slightly wounded, 63 whites, 166 negroes; severely wounded 16 whites, 72 negroes.

These figures fixing the total number of dead are at variance with the death list compiled by The Tribune as shown in the following story.

The known death list of race riot victims was increased to 31 yesterday with the uncovering of the charred remains of two negroes in the ruins of the business buildings on North Greenwood avenue.

Ten white men and boys lost their lives in the riot and the most accurate list of negro dead obtainable until today was 18. Fifteen of these bodies were taken to the Stanley-McCune and three to Mowbray's morgue. Mowbrays reported last night that four negroes had been burried by them and that today the body of another negro was brought in burned beyond recognition. Another body similarly burned was taken to Stanley-McCunes. None of the negro undertakers have opened their establishments since Tuesday night when the riot broke.

With the discovery of these two bodies city authorities considered it highly probable that the bodies of other victims might be discovered in the ruins of the negro hotels and business buildings.

11 Whites in Hospitals

A negro named George Hawkins dies at the Cinnabar hospital Saturday but it was said there there he was brought here unconscious from Red Fork and died from natural causes and not from injuries or wounds received in the riot.

Eleven white persons injured in the riot, are still being taken care of in the local hospitals. Mrs. S. A. Gilmore, 225 E. King St., is the most seriously injured. She was shot several times in the arm and side. The others are in a less serious condition.

At the Cinnabar hospital 47 negroes were being taken care of last night nearly all of whom were wounded in the riot. About half of these are considered to be in a serious condition. Friday 72 negroes were being taken care of there but a number were discharged and others went to the homes of their friends and relatives.

ALL TRAINS OUT OF CITY JAMMED WITH REFUGEES

HUNDREDS OF NEGROES BUY ONE-WAY TICKETS OUT OF TULSA AGENTS SAY

A general exodus of negroes from the city has taken place since the rioting ceased Wednesday. All local passenger stations have bene crowded with negroes buying one-way tickets out of the city. An approximate estimate was made last night that between 1,000 and 1,500 of them have left in the last three days.

They have been purchasing tickets for every city from New York to San Francisco at the Frisco and Santa Fe offices, railway officials announced. The Katy and Midland Valley offices have sold a (illegible) number of tickets for Musk(illegible) and McAlester. Guthrie also has been a favorite among those who have decided to leave Tulsa.

More than five times as many negroes have left Tulsa in the last four days than at nay other one period in the history of the city, the information clerk at the Frisco station said.

However all of the negroes who left Tulsa did not leave by way of the railway stations as has been indicated by reports from surrounding towns of hundreds of blacks fleeing in all directions. The general exodus really began Tuesday night and became more spirited the faster the bullets flew Wednesday morning.

Last night when the last Midland Valley train left for Muskogee negroes were fairly handing out of the windows. Cars reserved for negroes were jammed to the platforms.

[page 2]

TULSA TRIBUNE, JUNE 5th., 1921

[newspaper article]

Principal Negro Business Section and Church Swept by Riot Flames

[handwritten] June 5 [/handwritten]

[4 photos]

Upper right: East side of Greenwood avenue looking north from Archer street. This block formed the principal negro business district.

#archivesgov #June 5 #1921 #Tulsa Race Massacre #Tulsa Massacre #Tulsa #Oklahoma #Black history #African American history

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nev3rfound · 3 years

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someone i once knew : b.b - p.2

now that everyone has returned to the compound, bucky can confide in his oldest friend about you being here and what it could possibly mean. (2k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

“Stevie? You down here?” You hesitantly walk down the dark alley, hearing squeaks from the rats in their homes. “It’s only me, I promise.” You add as you scan the area.

You pause at the sight of a bin lid rising, and Steve peers over the brim to see you smiling weakly at him. “Hey, Y/n.” Steve mutters, now standing upright, sporting a black eye for the third time this month.

“Hey,” You walk over, holding out a hand and help him out of the bin with some difficulty as the lid slams into the concrete, the rattling sound echoing upwards. “I won’t ask, don’t worry.”

Steve manages to smile at that, you never asked him about his ventures into alleyways or how he ends up with some injury each time until he was ready to talk about it. He knows that’s why you’re such a good friend, the opposite of Bucky whose route is more direct and to the point.

Walking out of the alleyway, you turn the corner only to see Bucky leaning against the wall, leg resting against it as his arms remain crossed. “And here I thought you would’ve come alone.” Steve comments to you, looking up to see your evident surprise.

“I did.” You remark, stepping forward and hit Bucky’s arm. “I told you, James, not to follow me!” You groan in frustration whilst Bucky simply smirks and winks to Steve who remains equally unimpressed.

“Well, I thought about it, and decided it’d be best just in case there was any trouble like last time.” Bucky states, pushing himself off the wall and walks after you. “You can’t be mad at me, seriously, doll?”

You quickly turn around, glaring at Bucky who steps back. “Do you remember what happened last time, huh?” You question, looking over to Steve who nods.

“You slammed a bin lid against that punks head.” Steve comments and the anger in your expression eases.

“Thank you, Steve.” You glance past Bucky to Steve. “I can fend for myself just fine, James.”

Bucky sighs and glances over to Steve with his shoulders slumped forward, but Steve simply shakes his head. “You’re on your own, pal.” Steve chuckles, watching as Bucky jogs to be by your side and wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your cheek.

Walking in behind Thor, Steve spots Bucky in the far corner of the conference room.

“So, how’d you manage then? See you didn’t burn the place down which I call a success.” Steve jokes as he pulls out the chair beside Bucky who barely reacts, his eyes focused on the files placed on the table with his name neatly written on the top. “Buck?” Steve speaks up, and Bucky slowly lifts his head up.

“It was fine.” Bucky remarks as he sits upright, his arms remaining crossed over his chest. “But it’s good to see you.” A half-smile forms on the soldier's lips and Steve curtly nods.

“Did Tony’s assistant show her face much?” Steve asks, his attention averting to the files in front of him, missing how Bucky tenses upon mentioning you.

“About that,” Bucky starts, but the door slams open and Tony walks in, making a grand entrance as always whilst you follow in quietly, closing the door softly whilst your back faces the Avengers.

“Damn,” Sam mutters, holding back a whistle as you turn to face the Avengers, trying your hardest to remain composed as all eyes are on you.

“Sam,” Tony calls him out whilst you busy yourself with some of the files and take a seat at the table beside Natasha who smiles at you. “anyway, this is my new assistant, Y/n.”

Steve suddenly snaps up to see you give everyone a small wave. “Hi, it’s lovely to finally meet you all.”

Yet, Steve’s eyes only widen as he turns to Bucky who buries his head into the files, ignoring you completely.

“So, Y/n’s new, she’s living here so please, don’t be weird.” Tony sighs before carrying on with his presentation and remains unaware of Steve looking at you closely in disbelief at how it can be.

"Like any of us would be weird, it's a pleasure, Lady Y/n." Thor comments and Steve listens as you chuckle at the God's remark.

“Seriously, James, just let him do it.” You huff as the three of you stand outside of the registering office once again.

Bucky tears his eyes from you as he removes his hat, holding it in his hands as fireworks sound behind you. It was his final night before he left, he wanted it to be perfect.

“Why’d you wanna do it so bad, huh?” Bucky asks, facing Steve who stands tall whilst Bucky looks down on him, you behind him with a supportive look in your eyes.

“I wanna serve my country, Buck, just like every other guy.” Steve states, repeating himself for the umpteenth time.

Stepping forward, you take a hold of Bucky’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his and squeeze lightly. Even without words, Bucky could understand you perfectly and sighs under his breath.

“Alright.” Bucky gives in with great difficulty and releases his hand from yours as he hugs Steve. “Just, don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Steve breathes out a laugh as he hugs his oldest friend, but can see tears forming in your eyes as you watch the pair.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Steve retorts as Bucky backs away. “Don’t win the war until I get there, okay?”

Nodding to Steve, Bucky salutes him before returning to your side, uttering promises of a final dance and a night together, knowing it could potentially be his last.

“Earth to Steve?” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s face, snapping him from the buried memory as you close your folders and follow behind Tony, everyone else now rising to their feet and departing. “You coming, Cap?” Sam asks, seeing everyone gone besides him and Bucky.

“I’ll follow you out in a minute.” Steve states and Sam exits without asking any questions, leaving the old friends alone with an impossible elephant in the room.

“Steve,” Bucky starts, but Steve clears his throat and rests his arm on the table.

“What is going on here, Buck?” Steve questions, still in disbelief as he witnessed you walk in with the same shy energy you once had as a child and sat quietly beside Natasha. “That, that can’t be Y/n.” Steve scoffs, but Bucky raises a brow.

“We’re here, Steve.” Bucky remarks. “Can’t say anything is impossible anymore.”

“But, but how? I, I’ve visited her grave. Bucky, Y/n died in 2005.” Steve sadly admits, having seen your name etched in stone as flowers lay beneath it.

Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t know Steve, I’ve been trying to figure it out but Y/n has had a life, a childhood that she remembers.”

After his initial interaction with you, Bucky scrolled through the internet with great difficulty (with FRIDAY’s assistance) and found records of your birth date, parents names and their death certificates. You exist in the now according to the government records, and so does a family that isn’t one Bucky knew.

“So she has no idea who we are? I, she wasn’t taken or,” Steve trails off, not wanting to think about you being another victim of HYDRA’s.

“She has these memories,” Bucky begins to explain, but he looks up to ensure no one is eavesdropping. “I, she remembers pieces of her life growing up with us, but she doesn’t know it’s us.”

“How is that even possible?” Steve leans back in his chair, struggling to comprehend it as Bucky simply shrugs his shoulders. “So what? All this is just happening by chance, huh? Tony just hired our oldest friend, your-”

“Don’t say it.” Bucky cuts Steve off, his blue eyes hardening and his jaw clenches shut.

“Look, all I’m saying is we should talk to Tony, see if we can make any sense of this.” Steve suggests and pushes his chair back. “I know this isn’t easy, Bucky.”

Bucky scoffs under his breath. “You have no idea, pal.” Bucky remarks as he follows Steve out from the conference room and toward the elevator.

“Can you hold it please!” You call out and rush down the corridor, seeing the pair waiting. As you slip inside, you smile up to Steve who nods back whilst Bucky keeps his eyes locked on his feet. “Thank you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” Steve tries his hardest to remain composed as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, something you used to do with dresses instead.

As the doors open, you nod to Steve and exit, leaving the pair alone once more and Bucky exhales deeply.

“Real smooth, Buck.” Steve jokes and Bucky’s shoulders fall forward. “What happened between you two whilst we were gone, huh?”

“I, I don’t know.” Bucky mutters as the elevator rises further up the compound.

Walking through the corridor to your suite, tears form in your eyes once more. “Again?” You ask yourself as you dab your eyes, an overwhelming sense of sadness forming in your heart.

Standing proudly alongside many others, you wave as the soldiers board the trains. “Don’t cry, doll.” Bucky wipes your eyes, his hands resting on your cheeks as he takes you in, unsure if he’ll ever have the joy of seeing your bright smile ever again.

“I can’t help it, James.” You admit, sniffling as the whistle sounds. “I love you, and please, don’t do anything dumb, you idiot.” You chuckle as Bucky leans closer, capturing your lips with his, saying more than words could as tears fall from your eyes as he pulls away.

“This isn’t goodbye, Y/n.” Bucky assures you as he boards the train, blending in with the rest of the soldiers as you do with the worried lovers bidding farewell.

Forcing back the sob in your throat, you watch as he disappears out of sight, leaving you alone with the realisation; he might never come home.

“Hey, Y/n?” Natasha taps your shoulder, and you discreetly wipe your eyes before facing her.

“Hi, Natasha, can I help at all?” You ask, forcing a smile that Natasha can see right through.

She hums before motioning for you to follow her. “Listen, I know Barnes can be, well, Barnes,” You nod along, unsure where she’s going with it. “but he means well under all that. I, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here, and if you ever need me, I’m just above.” Natasha motions to the floor above, and you nod along.

“Thanks, Natasha. Bucky’s fine, I promise. He just, he reminds me of someone I once knew.” You state, unsure of your own words as they leave your lips.

“Ah, we’ve all been there.” Natasha remarks, seeing an unease across your face. “You okay in there?” She asks, but you immediately perk up.

“Yeah, I should,” You point down to your phone. “I should go sort Tony’s meetings, I, I’ll see you later.”

Before Natasha can ask anything else, you rush off to your suite, locking the door behind you.

Leaning against your door, you can feel your heart drumming against your chest, threatening to burst through. “Hey, FRIDAY?” You ask as your eyes remain tightly closed, images of Bucky crossing your mind, but a version you’ve never met.

“Yes, Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY answers.

“Where is the nearest Doctor?” Your voice remains uneasy as silence follows.

“Is something wrong Ms Y/l/n? Would you like me to inform Tony?”

“Erm, no, I, I don’t want to worry him.” You state, but three knocks on your door interrupt you.

Stepping back, you unlock the door and pause as Tony stands before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, don’t you think?” Tony asks as you breathe heavily and step aside, knowing this would be a long conversation ahead.

PART THREE

(thank you to the following for all the love in the first part! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know) (or equally do not want to be tagged - i am just mentioning all those who left comments in part 1 :) )

@mggpleasedontlookhere @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @16boyfriends-and-me @sarge-barnes-sir @lilysgarden @sarcasticallywitty15 @buckyandsteveimagines @sassy-pelican @decaffeinated--fangirl @amywinehouseisgod @tearsinparadise @just-dreaming-marvel-2 @tcc-gizmachine @newyork47

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Don’t Be Sorry

In which Y/N’s past catches up to her... and Colson

Reader x Colson Baker

Warnings: Abuse (Graphic), cursing, violence.

A/N: Seriously, it gets detailed. If you are uncomfortable with domestic abuse/ violence then this is not the fic for you. If you are a victim of abuse, there are resources available for you. The National Domestic Violence Support Hotline is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Word Count: 2352

masterlist

“To good music and good friends” Colson shouted over the noise of the crowd. The group raised their glasses in a toast before downing the shot. “Now let’s fuckin party!”

It was your first time out in a while. You liked to pretend it was because you were too busy. I have a job outside of writing music with you, you would always remind the older boy. But truthfully, you weren’t as attached to the party scene as your friends and did whatever you could to avoid them.

But when Colson asked, well begged, you to go out with them to celebrate finishing Hotel Diablo you couldn’t say no. Colson’s face when you said yes almost made you excited. Almost.

But now on the crowded rooftop of a club you’d never been to in an outfit that was all too tight and all too short, you wished you’d made up an excuse to stay home. Luckily your friends made you forget your unease.

“Y/N, watch me drink both of these beers in 10 seconds!” Rook shouted, holding two bottles in his hands. You laughed, shaking your head slightly at his antics and pulling out your phone to time him.

“Ok, go.” You said as he brought the bottles up to his mouth, chugging both in an astounding 9.75 seconds. “Dude that’s insane.” You showed him the timer and he cheered, dragging you to the bar.

“I’m getting you a drink, whaddyu want?” Rook asked as he waved down the bartender. “Rum and coke?” He questioned, knowing your order by heart at this point.

“How’d you guess.” You asked with a smile on your face.

“It’s a talent.” Rook laughed, arms flailing as he bowed dramatically.

The pair of you got your drinks and returned to your group in the middle of the dance floor. When you got back Slim dramatically held out his hand for you to dance with him, and you guys jumped around to the music.

The drink in your veins made you a little more comfortable. it wasn’t enough to get you into any trouble, just enough to loosen you up for a good time. As the group laughed at AJ’s terrible dance moves, you felt a chill come over the room.

As the rest of your friends smiled and laughed, you looked around the dance floor, trying to find anything, or anyone, out of place. Unfortunately for you, you were much shorter than the men around you, so you couldn’t see much.

Colson noticed you weren’t really with the group, and he followed your gaze around the room, leaning in close to you. “Everything ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just have this weird feeling.”

He laughed, “drink too much?”

You gave him a pointed look and then chuckled to signify you were joking. “No, I just, I don’t know how to explain it. I just have a bad feeling about something.”

“Ok, well just don’t leave my side. I’ll keep you safe.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes, but you appreciated the sincerity in his statement.

Colson and you had been friends for years, but after your last relationship ended... roughly (to put it nicely), he let you stay at his place for a while until you got back on your feet. Since then you’d gotten closer to the tattooed man and come to trust him implicitly.

You refocused on your friends, watching Pete and Baze racing pints of beers, with Baze winning (for obvious reasons). You laughed as Pete hung his head in shame. He scrunched his nose at you. “I don’t see you chugging anything.”

This only made you laugh harder, “I don’t think what you were doing is considered “chugging.”” You made air quotes as he put on a mock hurt expression.

“Y/N’s up next!” Slim shouted and your eyes went wide.

“Oh hell no, man. I leave that shit up to you guys.” You smiled as he shook his head profusely.

“Nope, you gotta do it. Rook’s already getting the beer.”

You hung your head, knowing there was no arguing with Slim. “Fine, but I’m gonna lose and then I’m gonna be mad. So if I’m mad, its your fault.” You shook your head as the boys howled.

Rook came back with two beers in his hand, handing you one. “I’ll give you a head start.” Slim smiled.

“Fuck no, man.” You said before bringing the beer to your lips, chugging the drink. Slim was taken off guard and ended up starting a few seconds after you, which was all the advantage you needed.

You raised your hands in victory as AJ picked you up in celebration, the boys cheering for you as Slim hung his head. Once you landed back on your feet, Rook threw his arm around your shoulders, “Y/N is the fuckin bomb.”

You loved this feeling, you loved being surrounded by your friends who loved you. You giggled as he leaned into you, making you stumble under his weight.

“Oh look, Y/Ns surrounded by all her little man-whores.” His voice sobered you up instantly and made every bone in your body tense up. You looked up to Colson for support, but he was already focused on the man behind you.

“Not even gonna look at me, damn. You’re really that much of a bitch, huh? Not even gonna say hi?” His voice was like poison in your veins. Every word he spoke reminded you of the last time you saw him. You subconsciously reached up to your neck, rubbing your throat.

“Get the fuck away from her dude.” Colson said shortly. You tried to catch his eye. You wanted to beg him not to make a scene, to just take your hand and leave. But it was too late for that.

“And who the fuck are you?” Jason, your ex-boyfriend, moved towards Colson and into your view. You flashed back to the night in his living room, his back facing you just like it was now, before he turned around and-

Luckily, Rook’s hand squeezing your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at him, his head cocked and his eyes questioning. You simply shook your head at him. You looked back to Colson who was seething. You caught Pete’s eye behind him and mouthed, we need to leave.

Pete nodded, grabbing Colson’s arm lightly, but the blond only shook off his friends grasp.

“Hey, there’s this really cool music store down the street that’s still open, we should go check it out.” AJ said, his eyes trained on you. Thank god for AJ.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” Pete said, “Colson let’s go check it out.”

You could see Jason’s face change when he figured out who the blond man was. “Yeah, Colson, why don’t you take your bitch and get out of here.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Colson moved closer to him and your eyes widened in fear.

“What? A bitch? That’s what she is, a slutty fucking bitch.” With every word, Jason moved closer to your friend until the two men were almost touching. Tears stung your eyes as you flashed back again.

“You stupid fucking whore. Who the fuck do you think you are? Fucking around with some asshole rapper! Did you forget you fucking belong to me?”

His words still rang in your mind. You could feel your body begin to shut down, your lungs gasping for breath just like they had that day.

You were brought back to reality by the screams of protest as Colson pushed your ex-boyfriend away from him, causing Jason’s fist to make contact with Colson’s jaw.

“You think you can get away with making me look like an idiot? I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.”

Jason’s fist made contact with your left cheek and your knees failed to hold you up. The man caught you before you hit the ground, leaning forward to pin you against the wall behind you.

“Y/N, c’mon, let’s go.” Rook’s arm fell to the small of your back as he escorted you through the crowd, Slim following you. You made your way down the stairs, the two boys helping to support your weight.

“I’m gonna make you remember who you belong to.”

Jason pinned your arms above your head as he pressed you further into the wall. His free hand made its way up your chest to your throat. His soft grasp turned into a squeeze around your neck.

“Jason please-”

You tried to talk, but few words could come out. You struggled for air as his eyes grew darker and darker.

“You think you can go and fuck around with whoever you want, don’t you?”

You shook your head, but he continued.

“You’re a goddamn slut, and you need to learn your lesson.”

Your vision began to blur.

“Y/N, you okay?” You came back to reality to find yourself in the alley between the club and the neighboring building. Slim was standing in front of you, Rook to your side as you leaned against the wall behind you.

You shook your head in response and he let out a sigh. Suddenly the door slammed open and you flinched at the noise.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You kneed Jason as a last resort before you lost consciousness, and now you were running through the house. You ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and pulling your phone from your pocket, not even noticing the new crack in the screen. You searched for the first name you could think of.

“Colson?”

“Colson, take a breath, man!” AJ yelled as he followed the tall blond man outside.

Colson was pacing a few feet away from you as you tried to focus on breathing, your hand subconsciously reaching for your neck again, as if you were trying to pry his invisible hand off of you.

Pete moved in front of you, taking in your state of fear. Other than Colson, Pete was the only one who had any idea about your ex. He didn’t know the whole story, only that it ended violently.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, keeping his distance as he leaned against the other wall across from you.

You sniffled and wiped your face, nodding quickly as you realized most of your friends- save for Baze and Colson- were watching you. “Sorry guys- he’s just an ex. He’s kind of an asshole.”

“Really kid? We couldn’t tell.” AJ tried to joke, and you cracked a small smile, trying to convince them you were ok.

Your breathing started to slow, and you felt yourself coming down from your panicked state, until you caught Colson’s fist making contact with the wall of the club.

“Open this fucking door bitch!”

Jason’s fists beat against the door- the only thing standing between you and him.

“He’s gonna kill me Cols. I’m so scared.”

Your sobs rang through the phone as the banging intensified.

“He can’t save you now, bitch! Not such a big man now, are ya? Colson!”

“Colson!” Baze berated the blond man, who recoiled in pain. “Get your shit together, bro.” He said, quieter.

Colson looked up at his friend and then past him to meet your eyes. His blue orbs softened at the tears in yours. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, walking over to you.

He leaned forward against the wall you already occupied, his arms above your head as his head drooped down to watch you. You looked up at him, your hand reaching up to touch his face where Jason had made contact.

He flinched when your skin met his, causing you to jerk your hand back, afraid he would yell at you for hurting him.

“It’s okay, I was just surprised is all.” He whispered before grabbing your hand and bringing it back up to his chin. You ran your fingers over the forming bruise lightly, another tear falling from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered. “I didn’t think he’d- I didn’t know...” You trailed off, looking down and dropping your hand from Colson’s face.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He moved one hand to gently tilt your face up, leaning down to be closer to you, “Look at me. This was not your fault. Okay? You don’t need to be sorry for anything, babe. You did nothing wrong.”

“I just- if I hadn’t called you that night-”

“You wouldn’t be here. Y/N if you hadn’t called me you could’ve been seriously hurt. He could’ve killed you.”

You took a shaky breath in, sniffling. Colson sniffled too. “Y/N, this is nothing, okay? I would take a thousand more punches like this if it means that douchebag never comes near you again. I mean it. Don’t blame yourself for this, okay?” You nod, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as you bury your head into his shoulder, your nose pressed against his neck.

His arms wrapped around you and you could hear his sniffles in your ear as his lips pressed against your hair. “Thank you.” You mumble into his neck, pressing your lips against the hot skin.

“Hey! Get the fuck out of here! This isn’t some fucking party you can photograph. Fuck off with your cameras!” Pete yelled, causing you to release Colson and look towards the commotion. You briefly see a figure in the distance before a white flash blinds you.

“Fuckin paps.” Colson whispered, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

“Let’s get outta here, guys.” Slim says, leading everyone back into the club to leave through the back door. Colson interlocked your hand with his as you stepped into the building, keeping you as close to him as possible as you squeezed your way through the crowd.

Once you loaded yourselves into the van, you leaned your head on Colson’s shoulder, your hands still interlocked. “Can I stay at yours tonight?” You asked in a whisper. Colson simply pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand leaving yours to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

#mgk #machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk imagine #mgk angst #colson baker imagine #colson imagine #colson x reader #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly imagine

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

Alternative version of this one shot (or part of it)

Warning: mention of blood and violence

67- Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x human!Reader

The smell of your blood was enough. This was enough, and the world around Uta had darkened and there was for him that dangerous red trail that led him to you. And even if his face seems calm and focused, the terror of never seeing you again grips him.

Why are you there in the first place? You don't have to be there, he warned you. He always warns you, to keep you safe - so you don't see.

It's hard for him to hold back when his mental state is in that situation. When he needs blood, fun and killing, and as much as he wants it, not even your presence can satisfy that need.

Indeed, you are a stimulus. Your eyes that silently scrutinize him from your hiding place are a charge for him to do better. To do more.

He never wanted to show you the monster. No, it's not just about something metaphorical and moral like the monstrosity of ghouls. His monstrous body, he never wanted to show it to you.

Yet now it's there massive and awful on his victim, and your attacker. And it’s precisely because you are there.

Uta from the fourth ward is not a ghoul that the others don't take seriously, it wouldn't need him to use his strength with a being as lowly as that, but he needs it.

He can still smell you. He knows exactly where you are and what you feel, he smells your fear, and he likes it.

Are you afraid of him? Are you afraid of what you see even though he is saving you?

"Where do you run chick."

Uta's laughter is chilling, transcendent, as the ghoul with your blood-stained hands whizzes by his side.

Your crouched form shrinks against your makeshift barrier to clear the way for the substitute victim before he overwhelms you.

You are so confused and afraid that what happens just slips before your eyes without really making sense. And when something rushes forward with a violent rush to capture the unfortunate ghoul, you have neither the ability nor the readiness to escape it.

The first thing you perceive is the heat that surrounds you and the light that dims.

Someone giggles and someone shouts.

You forget to breathe.

"Oops ..."

It's a voice you know all too well, it's a voice you hear every day, filling your life like color fills a blank canvas. Yet now you would swear you never heard it.

“How did you end up here, my beloved? Did your delicious smell make me catch you too? "

Beloved is not a word that flows often between you two, it is suspended in your gestures and in your looks, but it is truly exceptional that your lips pronounce it. Maybe that's why it now sounds so unreal from those lips you should have known for a long time.

Those lips that move threateningly beneath you and your tormentor, in the depths of that flesh so hot and so inhuman that surrounds you.

"Tell me, my love, what pains in hell do you want this toy to undergo?"

That word continues to resonate in those muscles along with the angry moans of the captured ghoul.

Love, love, love. Such a rare word, so unconventional. Yet he seems to like to say it as he prepares to kill.

It clashes like a broken bell, screeches against hearing like teeth in terror. But no, you can't say he's not being sincere.

Those red tentacles squeeze in on you, and you don't know if it's sadism or some other dark emotion he's feeling about holding you there.

You do not answer his smallest question and rather you turn around, clinging desperately to that merciless cocoon, looking for a way out.

Maybe it's still sadism, those noises you hear so visceral and close to you, while an unequal fight is taking place a few inches from your body. If not even the ghoul can escape the monster, how can you fragile human?

You don't want to see what's happening, what he's doing. You can't even imagine how the hell he can do to cause those screams of terror and that slaughterhouse noise of flesh and blood. The sound is already ignoble enough to make you squeeze against the viscous envelope, closing your eyes and pressing against those walls that you don't even know which area of his body they belong to.

Even when the disturbing silence falls on you, you don't move. The awareness of being alone there strangely makes things even more difficult.

"Don't you want to watch?" Uta's voice is still distorted by an unhealthy amusement "So weak ... there was no need to even fight him ..."

Your fingers cling to the tentacles as if they could protect you.

"Uta ..." his name sounds uncertain in that too narrow cave.

"Hm?" A light laugh, this time addressed only to you "are you afraid?"

He knows you're scared, terrified. He feels it in his lungs, the smell of your anguish mixes with that of your blood, of that wound you seem to have forgotten about.

And he keeps you there, because he knows that if he were to let you go, you would run away. The smell you have on you is that of the victims when they try in vain to escape the predator.

For a moment, a fleeting insane moment, he really thinks that the only solution is to devour you, that this is the only way to keep you there with him.

But that moment falls into his own horror when your question caresses him: "Can you come back please?"

Come back.

His heart stops for a moment.

Come back.

That scent of prey becomes your perfume again, which invades him like a raging river.

"But I ... I've always been here."

Now his voice is no longer scary, and although you still do not dare to look beyond your eyelids, you can finally feel the safety of that delicate and gentle tone.

"Uta?" You call him again, like you want to make sure it's him for real.

And he wonders what the hell he's doing. Because you are there, in the first place, in his trap.

Finally his shell opens, freeing you in the evening light, and all that grabs you are his hands, to bring you back to earth safely.

When you open your eyes, nothing is left of that cluster of tentacles and arms; all that is in front of you is that dear face that you have come to know so well. It's a blood mask that covers his chin to his nose, but at least you can see his eyes.

"It's me ..." the sweet note of his voice echoes in the calm after the storm "It's just me."

It's just him. No hero ready to save you, only Uta in his natural madness.

His instinct to grab you before you run away is contradicted by your sudden gesture pushing you against him.

"Uta!" Your arms surround his neck in a desperate attempt to hold him back as your head snuggles against his neck as if that were your only refuge.

"You never came back ... I came looking for you."

Your words are so docile and sincere that Uta almost doubts he has heard them.

He asked you, he asked you what you would do if he never came back. He hadn't believed you had taken his words to heart so much.

The imaginary of you, finally free human without him, dissolves in his mind with every particle of you that your body transmits to him.

It seems that nothing is wrong with you in any of this; neither the danger you ran, nor the wound on your shoulder, nor his inhuman violence. You seem to completely ignore the blood that covers him, which now dirties you too, and you are not bothered by the gaunt remains that surround you. You were looking for him. You were afraid that he would never come back to you, and you looked for him, as you said.

You did not remain silent and wait, you did not hope for a while to get rid of him, nor did you plan to remain without him. Instead those words of his had remained inside you to the point of putting you in danger.

"Forgive me." His voice is little more than a whisper as his palm gently rests on your head in a protective gesture "Does it hurt a lot?"

You shake your head in dissent as he leans over your wound to lick the blood away. Not a threatening gesture, but a cure, a desire to perceive you as close to him as possible.

You who sought him, you who did not run away, you who remain so calm in his hands.

"You won't go away, will you?"

Your question is innocent as you curl up in him, likewise seeking your presence.

His nose cuddles against your temple, continuing to perceive you with all possible senses.

"Not as long as you want me."

#tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul #uta x reader #uta x human reader #uta tg #tokyo ghoul uta #gore mention #violence #tokyo ghoul oneshot #one shot #angst

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