#white mother mixed-race child

[lynn-m]

fashion model Kseniya Belousova and her mixed-race child

#White mother #white mother mixed-race child #burning coal #white woman black baby #lady #pretty girl #blonde #blonde with black baby

[pinkfey]

#thinking yet again about how different my grandma’s life could have been had she not assimilated #not just her but how different my father could have been as well as a mixed race child in the city #to be raised immersed in his mother’s culture instead of that of his white american father #i know part of it was there ofc because even i was raised with bits and pieces of it #but ultimately my dad’s values are that of white america’s. that of his father. that of a white man in sf. #i just :/ #he could have been different!! he doesn’t even claim his mother’s heritage save for jokes #hnnmhmgngngn……. snifts.. #anyways.txt

[erosia-rhodes]

Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

#blue eye samurai #netflix #blue eye samurai spoilers #mizu #taigen #akemi #mizu blue eye samurai #lady itoh

[tonyspank]

SHE 2

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

In a brand-new city, you're experiencing a new lifestyle. Jenna Ortega, your soon-to-be wife, must navigate your mixed emotions towards each other while raising your daughter. What happens when you start imagining a new life with someone else's wife?

This one shot includes mature themes such as foul language, sexual activity, acts of violence and etc.

Jenna and any other celebrities in this book are not famous unless said otherwise.

I hate this ending and possibly the entire thing but I hope you guys enjoy. Based off You S3!

You believed in love at first sight, and when you saw Jenna for the first time, everything clicked into place. The way she smiled, the way she carried herself—it was as if she were made for you.

Yes, you might've met others on the way, but no one made your heart race like Jenna. Bonding over cheesecake, strawberry jam, and most importantly, your mother. Jenna seemed to understand you on a deeper level than no one else had before.

But you wished things were different. None of that felt real anymore. You were wrong about Jenna, she wasn't the person you thought she was. The truth had shattered the image you had of her—that one beautiful woman you met on a late grocery-night run had turned out to be a stalking and murdering psychopath.

And when you realized who she truly was, it was too late. This murdering psychopath was the mother of your child.

You couldn't allow your daughter to be raised alone by such an evil person. You'd pretend to love Jenna, pretend to enjoy the suburbs, and move yourself away from the city you were beginning to love.

The young adult you once were, attempting to grasp the handles of adult life, has now become a master of disguise, faking happiness in your relationship. Every day, you put on a mask and play the role of a loving partner, protecting your child from the dark truth that lies within her mother.

Regardless...there's still a part of you that believes in love at first sight.

Marde Linda is the type of neighborhood you'd see in a television show, with picket white fences, beautifully manicured lawns, and slightly friendly neighbors who wave as they pass by. You don't have to get started on the schools, which are top-rated in the state, by the way.

Being a mother? Hard. Extremely hard. You don't know how your own did it, but you're happy she was there. Which is exactly why you're happy to be with your own daughter, despite the crying at 3 AM, the endless diaper changes...or the fact that she hates her vegetables.

"You are going to love this, trust me." You smile at your daughter, who dazly stares back at you in her highchair. "I mean, even I would eat this...I think?" You chuckle as you spoon-feed her the mashed carrots, hoping she'll give it a chance.

For a second, you start to believe she enjoys the taste, her little mouth opening wide for each spoonful. But then she scrunches up her face and spits out the carrots, turning her head every time you try to feed her again.

Just in time, Jenna walks into the kitchen with messy hair and a tired expression on her face. "What's going on here?" she asks, glancing at the mashed carrots smeared all over the highchair. You sigh and explain, "I was trying to get her to eat some carrots, but it seems like she's not a fan."

Jenna hums, slightly nodding her head. "Well, uh...do you want me to try feeding her?" You hesitate for a moment, unsure if Jenna will have any better luck. But you appreciate her offer and hand her the spoon. "Sure, why not?" you say with a hopeful smile.

Jenna smiles at you before taking a seat next to the highchair and starting to coax your daughter into taking another bite of the mashed carrots.

This sight reminds you of the old Jenna, the Jenna you fell for. The way she interacts with your daughter brings back memories of when you first started seeing each other, when everything was easy and carefree.

You're knocked out of your nostalgic reverie when the bell rings. Hm, you weren't expecting anyone.

You look at Jenna in confusion before heading to the front door, only to be met with a beautiful brunette, with a smile on her face, and a pie in her hand. "Hi, I'm Love. I live next door, and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I thought I'd bring over a homemade pie...it's gluten-free."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised by the unexpected gesture. "Wow, that's really kind of you," you say, genuinely touched. "Thank you so much, Love. I'm Y/N, and my fiance, Jenna, is a bit busy trying to feed our daughter. We just moved in a few days ago."

Love's smile widens as she listens to your introduction. "Of course, I know it's always nice to have a warm welcome when you move into a new place. And I know how that is. My husband, Joe, and I have a son, Henry, so I understand how hectic things can get. If you ever need any help with anything, just let us know."

"Likewise, Love." The woman gives you one last smile before returning her attention to her own home, she was really pretty.

"Who was it?" Jenna calls out from the kitchen. "It was our neighbor, Love. She came by to welcome us and offered her help if we ever needed anything. She seems like a friendly person." You answer back, closing the door and making your way back to the kitchen.

Jenna looks up from Luna and says, "That's nice." You hum in response, placing down the pie. "Did she eat the carrots?"

Your fiance thins out her lips, "Nope." You chuckle and shake your head.

It's wrong, but your neighbor is already stuck in your head, leaving you curious about her.

-

"How's mothering going?" Ross asks you over the phone, his face apparent on your phone screen. You sigh out, laying your head against the armrest of the couch. "As best as it can go." You pause for a moment, contemplating whether or not to mention your neighbor. Deciding against it, you simply add, "Luna is a handful, but we're managing."

"When are you gonna let me see my goddaughter?" You laugh softly at Ross's question, "Uhhh, I don't know. I guess come by whenever you're free." You can hear the excitement in Ross's voice as he responds, "Great! I'll make sure to schedule a visit soon."

You smile, a small silence falling over. Ross narrows out his eyebrows, trying to read you. "You look like you want to say something. What is it?" He mumbles.

"My neighbor Love... she seems really nice. And she's really pretty, she even has the most beautiful smile," you say, moving your face out of the screen so your best friend doesn't see your wide smile.

Ross raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "Sounds like you've got a crush on her already. Make sure Jenna doesn't find out, you'd be in the doghouse forever."

Ross knows about your problems with Jenna. He doesn't know why they formed, but he knows you're not exactly your happiest when it comes to your relationship with Jenna.

"I know, I know...but am I wrong for wanting to get to know her? I just...I don't know, I wanna see her again." You ponder, unsure of how to navigate your feelings for this new person while still being in a "relationship" with Jenna.

Ross leans back, contemplating your words before responding, "I think it's natural to be curious about others, especially when things are rocky with Jenna. Just be careful not to rush into anything without figuring out what or who you truly want."

You nod, and Ross continues, "Is this Love girl a single mother or something? What's got you so hooked?" You pause for a moment, considering Ross's question. "No, she's not a single mother," you reply. "She's married, but she's gorgeous, and she just has that aura, you know? She gave me a pie, Ross! What more could I ask for?"

Ross raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "I get that she's attractive and all, but you're both married and you both have children, so getting involved with her could definitely complicate things for both of you. Have you thought about the consequences like....at all?"

"No, I didn't. I haven't gotten that far, we just met two weeks ago. But there's just something about her that draws me in. I can't explain it, but I feel it."

Ross sighs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Look, I understand that you're drawn to her—" You hear the front door opening, interrupting your conversation.

You quickly sit up, realizing that Jenna has arrived home. Ross gives you a knowing look before hanging up.

Jenna smiles at you, unaware of the conversation you were having. "Hey. Where were you?" You ask, putting on a smile. Jenna crawls on the couch, snuggling up next to you.

"I ran into Love and her group of friends. You know she owns a bakery, she told me to stop by sometime and try her pastries. I think it would be fun if we went together," Jenna suggests, her eyes beaming up with excitement.

You feel a pang of guilt as you remember the conversation you were just having with Ross about Love. But you push it aside, not wanting to ruin the moment with Jenna. "That sounds like a great idea," you reply, attempting to sound enthusiastic.

You didn't hate your fiancé; you couldn't bring yourself to. She was the mother of your child, and for a while, she was the love of your life, she was captivating, caring, and always there for you. But every time you try to remember the goods, the bads come out—memories of her locking you inside a cage, revealing that she killed your ex-flings, and that look she gave when you asked about Zoe.

"Is Luna asleep?" Jenna asks, breaking the silence. You nod, a tiny smile peeking its way onto your lips. "Out like a light. Might even start snoring," you reply in a joking tone.

Jenna smiles, leaning in closer to you. "I'm glad you're here with me," she says softly. "I love you."

You can't. You can't say those words, not after everything you've discovered about her. The memories and fears weigh heavily on your heart, making it nearly impossible to reciprocate Jenna's love. You give her a reassuring smile, hoping she doesn't notice the hesitation in your eyes.

Thankfully, she doesn't, placing her lips on yours for a short and sweet kiss. Her hand snakes its way to lay against your cheek, bringing you into a more heated kiss, leaving you momentarily breathless.

You're trying. For Luna, for yourself, and for Jenna. You want to be a happy and perfect partner and mother, but you've been through a lot.

Jenna notices the subtle changes in your demeanor and gently asks if everything is alright. You take a deep breath, quickly nodding.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Jenna stares into your eyes, searching for any signs of deception. She knows you too well to believe your quick reassurance. Pulling away from you as if you're a burning hot stove, she insists, "No, you're not. Why don't you talk to me anymore?"

Her voice trembles with concern, and you can sense the ache behind her words. You run a hand through your hair. "We do talk."

"But it's not the same," Jenna interrupts, annoyance in her tone. "It feels like you're holding back, like there's something you're not telling me."

"You're always distracted. Something's going on," Jenna adds, her eyes searching yours for answers.

Saved by the cry, Luna's whines are heard from the baby monitor that rests on your coffee table. You quickly excuse yourself to tend to Luna, grateful for the interruption.

-

A bell jingles as you make your way through the door, alerting the owner of the shop to your presence. "You're not closed, are you?" you ask, hoping to still be able to browse the selection of treats.

Love smiles, waving you off. "For you? We're open 24/7," she chuckles. "Feel free to take your time and explore." You thank Love and begin glancing over the array of delectable pastries and desserts on display.

"Which one catches your eye?" Love asks, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. Other than you? I don't know, you think. You take a moment to survey the mouthwatering options, each one more tempting than the last. Finally, your gaze settles on a beautifully decorated muffin that seems to be calling your name.

You point at the muffin and say, "I think I'll go with that one. It looks absolutely divine." Love nods approvingly and retrieves the muffin for you, placing it in a small box with a smile. "Excellent choice," she says. "I'm sure you'll enjoy every bite."

Your upper lip curves upward into a satisfied smile as you eagerly anticipate the first bite of the delectable muffin. "Mmm," you groan out, missing the way Love bites her lip in response to your reaction. She watches you with a twinkle in her eye, clearly pleased with your enjoyment of the muffin.

The muffin is soft and moist, with just the right amount of sweetness. It melts in your mouth, leaving behind a burst of flavors that dance on your taste buds.

"This is fantastic." You exclaim, savoring every bite as the flavors continue to unfold. Love's smile widens, and she leans in closer, whispering, "I'm glad you like it."

Placing down the half-eaten muffin, you smile at the brunette. "You know, I actually cook and bake myself, but never have I made something as delicious as this. Your muffin is truly a masterpiece."

Love blushes, clearly flattered by your compliment. "Well, I'd love to try your cooking sometime," she says, smiling even wider at you.

"I'd be honored to cook for you. It'll be our own little culinary adventure, you know what I'm talking about?" Love chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, we can be the dynamic duo in the kitchen."

You and your next-door neighbor continue to talk, sharing recipes and exchanging cooking tips—and maybe even glances. You begin to open up about your feelings about parenting, even sharing some stories about your own mother, whom you love and miss dearly.

"I don't know; I just...my mom was the best in my eyes. I just want my daughter to look at me the same." Love listens attentively, nodding her head. "Don't we all?"

She pauses for a moment, reflecting on her own new experiences as a mother. "It's a universal desire—wanting to be the best parent we can be for our children. My mother isn't really the best, so I'm trying to learn from her mistakes and do things differently with Henry."

You smile at the mention of Henry. "He's lucky to have a mom like you who is willing to learn and grow. I'm sure you and Joe will do an amazing job."

You see Love's smile flicker at the sound of her husband's name, but she quickly regains her composure. "Thank you... I'm also glad I got to you before Sherry and her mean girls squad did." Love quickly changes the topic, smiling widely again.

"Yeah, I saw her blog...don't know how to feel about it yet." You say, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows. Love chuckles, shaking her head. "I know what you mean. I remember our second time meeting each other. She asked me about Joe and I's sex lives, saying, "Oh, having orgasms helps you produce better breast milk for your baby!"

Your mouth opens in disbelief. "Wow, that's quite a personal question to ask someone you barely know," you comment, slightly taken aback. Love nods in agreement, her smile fading slightly. "Yeah, it was definitely uncomfortable."

"So, how did you respond to that?" you ask, curious about Love's reaction. Love lets out a small sigh before answering, "I lied. The best thing you can do to Sherry."

You let out a small laugh. "I'll take note of that." You open your mouth to speak, but hesitate, unsure if you should even ask the question on your mind.

But curiosity gets the better of you, and you finally ask, "Have things ever felt weird with you and Joe during the first few months of bringing in Henry? It's just... I don't feel like I'm engaged with Jenna, it's almost as if we're just two strangers taking care of a baby together."

It's like a black cloud has appeared above Love's head, casting a shadow over her face. And for the first time, she's not putting on the usual happy facade to fool her neighbors into thinking she fits into Marde Linda; instead, she looks vulnerable and honest.

Love pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before responding, "I totally get where you're coming from. It actually feels like that a bit now, you know? It's good to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."

"Joe and I have been together for so long, and it's been great for the most part. But lately, I've been feeling like something is missing. We used to have such a strong connection, but now it feels like we're drifting apart. I've tried talking to him about it, but he just brushes it off and says everything is fine. It's frustrating because I want us to be happy together, but I can't get through with him."

Love lets out a fake chuckle, trying her best to keep the tears from building in her eyes.

She takes a deep breath and continues, "I know relationships have their ups and downs, but this seems different. It's like we're living in two separate worlds, with little overlap or understanding of each other's lives. I miss feeling connected to someone... I miss smiling so much that my cheeks hurt. I miss...the feeling of feeling wanted and cherished."

You feel the same way, completed. You long for the days when you both were inseparable, when every moment spent together felt like a precious gift. The distance between you and Jenna now feels unbearable, and you yearn for that deep connection and intimacy that seems to have faded away.

"Yeah... I know what you mean. I remember the first night I met Jenna, my heart was racing, like badly, almost as if it was going to burst out of my chest. I wanted to impress her so damn badly that I started showing her photos of me with the president. I just couldn't take my eyes off her, and the way she laughed at how I had continued to completely make a fool out of myself. We had this instant chemistry that I'd never felt with anyone else before. It's like we were made to be for each other, but after a while, it seemed...fake, I guess. The more I got to know her, the more I realized that our connection wasn't as genuine as I initially thought."

You run a hand down your face, your face flushing with embarrassment. "Shit, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to just pour my heart out like that." Love waves you off, "No, no! It's only fair; I kind of did the same thing earlier. It feels good to be able to open up and share my feelings with someone who won't go gossip about it."

You take a deep breath, feeling relieved that Love understands and appreciates your honesty. "Thank you for being so understanding. It's just been weighing on me, and it feels good to finally talk about it."

When the silence falls, you feel it. You both want the same thing—to start fresh—but neither of you has the guts to say so. You'd both look like bad spouses, wanting a new life while your old one was just getting started.

Your mind begins to wonder: What if Love was your new start? The shared laughter, looks, feelings, and smiles were a creation of a bond that goes beyond being neighbors.

You were so in your mind that you didn't even realize that Love had moved right beside you, placing a soft hand on your arm. Startled, you turn to see Love sitting there with a gentle smile on her face.

Her intentions were to comfort you, but her heart betrayed her. You looked even better up close.

You and Love meet in a slow kiss, both of you unsure what you're exactly doing in the moment, but sure, it's what you want in that moment. You were drawn to her, her gentle nature, and the way she effortlessly made you feel at ease.

Wait. No, wait.

You're engaged, you can't. You're not supposed to be doing this, but you want—no. You can't.

You quickly pull away, "I'm...so sorry, fuck." You rush out, your mouth slightly agape. Love stares at you, she understands the conflict raging within you and the responsibilities that bind you. So she doesn't fight against your decision, allowing you to walk away, leaving her in an empty bakery with a half-eaten muffin.

You make it home, but your mind is still consumed by Love's presence. You don't know how long you've been standing in silence, lost in thought. Jenna could never find out you shared a kiss with your neighbor, not only would you be in trouble, but Love would find herself like your old flings.

But Jenna's home, meaning Luna successfully made it to Ross's apartment.

You snap out of your reverie and greet Jenna. You have to try harder. Jenna's trying her hardest to make things work between you two, and it's important for you to reciprocate that effort. You smile as she rants about the traffic on the way back home from Ross's place, taking her hair out of her messy bun.

You walk up to your fiance, wrapping your arms around her and kissing her intensely but softly. Jenna gasps in surprise but immediately melts into the kiss, her hands finding their way to your back. This was probably the first time you've insinuated such a passionate display of affection, and it fills Jenna with a sense of reassurance and love.

As you pull away from the kiss, Jenna looks into your eyes, her own filled with a mixture of adoration and curiosity. She whispers, "What brought this on?" You smile and reply, "I was just thinking about when you approached me in the grocery store...and you asked if I was going to stay in the same aisle until you left."

Jenna's eyes widen with surprise as she recalls that moment. She blushes and playfully nudges you, saying, "I can't believe you remembered that!"

"Of course I do," you mumble against her lips, feeling a surge of affection. "I missed you, Jenna." She smiles, her cheeks turning even redder, and pulls you in for another kiss, which grows wilder by the second.

"Bedroom, please...Y/N." Jenna whimpers out, jumping into your arms as you walk toward your bedroom. Jenna's heart is pounding in her chest, but at the same time, her mind is racing. She can't help but wonder what has gotten you this way?

Was it really your first time meeting, or is there something else on your mind? Someone else—maybe she doesn't know.

You undress yourself completely, revealing your naked body to Jenna's eager eyes. Jenna's thoughts continue to swirl. She tries to push aside her doubts and insecurities and focus on you. But deep down, a nagging feeling lingers, leaving her curious about your hidden secrets or unspoken desires.

You stand at the edge of the bed while Jenna removes her own clothes in bed, her lip trapped between her teeth as she meets your gaze. You smile, pulling your fiance by her legs to the edge of the bed and lowering yourself to your knees.

As you trail kisses along Jenna's inner thighs, her hunger grows, her breath hitching with each gentle touch. She arches her back, yearning for more, as you tease her with your lips and tongue.

"I missed this...I missed you." You mutter against her core, going back to your effective but gentle techniques. Jenna loses herself in your words and the intoxicating sensations coursing through her body. Her fingers slip into your hair, and her hips move wildly against your mouth.

You place your hands on her hips, holding her down against the bed. Your fiance whines in response, throwing her head back in frustration.

With a smirk, you continue to maintain your firm grip, knowing that it drives her wild. "I'm so close, baby...please." Jenna pleads, her voice barely audible as she gasps for breath.

You keep up the relentless stimulation, teasing her just enough to push her further to the edge. Her body tenses, and with a loud cry, she finally reaches her climax, her hips bucking against your touch.

Whilst her body slowly relaxes, you release your grip, allowing her to catch her breath. Jenna looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling with post-orgasmic bliss.

You crawl onto the bed, hovering over your fiance with a mischievous smile.

"You're so beautiful, Jen." You whisper, aligning yourself with her core, watching her gasp and arch her back as you enter her. Jenna pulls you down into a kiss, her mind clearing as you reassure her in the best way possible.

"Y/N..." Jenna breathes out, clinging onto your back as you begin to move with gentle, rhythmic thrusts. Her nails dig into your skin, leaving behind small red trails as she desperately holds onto you, almost as if she's scared you'll slip away.

You drop your head on Jenna's shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent as you continue to move inside her. Gosh, she was something else. Her smell—the vanilla smell mingled with a hint of lavender—filled your senses, intoxicating you further. And the way she softly bit your ear before attacking your neck, sent shivers down your spine, making it impossible to resist her.

"Yes...yes! Fuck, right there, Y/N." Jenna mutters in your ear, wrapping her legs around your waist, and pulling you in deeper.

-

"I thought Ross was supposed to have Luna for longer?" You ask Jenna, referring to the doorbell. Jenna shrugs, placing a kiss on your lips before sitting up from the couch and reaching for her robe.

"It's probably my package, baby. Just go answer it for me, will you?" Jenna says, giving you one last peck.

With a sigh, you walk toward the front door. Jenna stops you. "Don't you think you should put some clothes on first?" she teases, her eyes lingering on your attire—just your boxers and sports bra.

You open up the coat closet nearby, putting on a zip-up hoodie to cover yourself up. Jenna chuckles and playfully swats your arm, reminding you to grab a pair of pants as well. "By the time I do that, they'll be gone!" you mutter. Jenna gives you a look, which you ignore, hurrying up to answer the door.

"Love—hey!" You rush out. You weren't expecting to see love so soon, especially after your kiss. You quickly compose yourself, trying to hide any lingering awkwardness from the kiss.

Love smiles, "Hi, I'm sorry for just...showing up, I just wanted to see if we were okay." You open your mouth before you even know what you're going to say, "Uhh...yeah! I uh, I'm sorry, it's just..." you motion your hands around, feeling flustered and searching for the right words.

"I..." You glance behind you to make sure Jenna isn't eavesdropping on the conversation. "I really enjoyed our....talk. It got a lot of stuff off of my chest and about our k—"

Love's eyes leave yours, moving to something behind you. Love's eyes leave yours, moving to something behind you. Their expression changes, and you turn around to see Jenna standing there, an unreadable expression on her face.

Jenna's unexpected presence interrupts your train of thought, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your fiance glances between the two of you, clearly caught off guard by Love's sudden appearance.

Love quickly recovers, breaking the silence with a forced smile. "Hi! I was just inviting you both to dinner tonight. I thought it would be a great opportunity for us to all get to know each other better." Love says, attempting to regain composure.

Jenna's eyes briefly meet yours before turning back to Love. That sounds like a lovely idea," she says, her voice calm but with a hint of curiosity.

You can't help but wonder what Jenna's true feelings are about Love's unexpected invitation. Fuck. Could she tell something happened between the two of you?

You try to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it's just your own paranoia. Love gives you a smile before walking off. Perhaps she is genuinely interested in Love's invitation, and there is nothing to worry about.

"We could've just said no," you mutter, closing the door. Jenna hears you, raising an eyebrow. "Why would we do that?" You pause for a moment, walking to Jenna and wrapping your arms around her. "I mean, it's just...unexpected. And we don't really know Love that well. It might be better to play it safe, you know?"

Jenna stares into your eyes, her expression softening. "You're so cute," she says, planting a gentle kiss on your nose. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by the compliment and how she completely dodged your concern.

-

"It's so great to finally meet you." Joe smiles, extending his hand for a handshake. You shake his hand, "Likewise, Joe. It's nice to have some...normal neighbors." You chuckle nervously, hoping that your comment about normalcy didn't come off as rude.

Joe chuckles. "Well, thank you. I'm glad I didn't get grouped in with Sherry and Cary." You let out a small laugh, relieved that Joe understood your attempt at humor. "Oh, I've heard some interesting stories about them. They definitely bring some excitement to the neighborhood."

Love pulls away from her hug with Jenna, leading you both to the dining room, a bright and inviting space with a large wooden table. As you take a seat, Love gestures towards the beautifully set table and says, "I hope you're hungry! I've prepared a special homemade meal just for the occasion."

"Thank you so much, Love. Everything looks and smells amazing," you say sincerely, feeling grateful for her hospitality.

Love smiles warmly at you, and Jenna takes notice of this, her eyes boring into Love's skull. Jenna's gaze lingers on Love for a moment before she blinks, putting on a fake smile as she starts a conversation with Joe.

"Shit, I forgot the drinks, I'll be right back." You get up from your seat and say, "I can help." Love quickly interjects, "No need to worry, I'll take care of it." You wave her off, "It's okay! I don't mind helping out."

You follow Love to the kitchen, fixing your dress shirt and straightening your tie as you go. Love glances at you with a grateful smile, appreciating your willingness to assist.

"I'm sorry, Love." You apologize sincerely, referring to your shared kiss that shouldn't have happened between two married individuals. Love's smile fades slightly as she looks down at the ground, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "No need to apologize," she says softly, avoiding eye contact.

"No, really. I shouldn't have done that." You continue, walking closer to the blue-eyed woman. Love's gaze remains fixed on the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a moment of weakness for both of us," she admits, her words tinged with regret.

"At least...I know that it was for you." Love adds, her voice trailing off as she finally meets your gaze. "Because...one second you're complaining about not being happy, but you seemed pretty happy this morning after."

"What?"

"The fucking hickeys, Y/N. You opening the door in your boxers? Could you be any more fucking obvious?" You look away, your cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"Love..." you stammer, struggling to find the right words. "You're married...I'm married...we couldn't...I couldn't..." Love shakes her head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I guess I'm blind for thinking that kiss meant anything. It's just finally talking about it that I started imagining what if...you know? Like, with him... the first time I saw him, I wanted to get to know everything about him. And I felt that again, but with you. I wanted to explore a connection that I hadn't felt in a long time. It's stupid..."

Love's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she takes a step back, creating a distance between you two. "I don't even know why I'm acting like this. We should get back." She quickly wipes her eyes, handing you two glasses and picking up the rest before walking back toward the dining room.

"Hey, you're back! I missed you," Jenna exclaims as she sees Love and you return to the dining room. She gives you both a warm smile, unaware of the emotional moment that just took place.

You send Jenna a smile, sitting back down beside her. Love joins the table, her eyes still slightly red but her smile genuine. "Jenna was just telling me about how she cooks too," Joe tells his wife, his eyes glancing between her and Jenna.

But Jenna doesn't pay any mind to the man; her eyes are staring into yours. She leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "What took you so long?" Anyone else would've missed her accusatory tone.

"We were just talking about our favorite recipes," you reply, trying to deflect the question. Jenna's eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't press further. Instead, she smiles at Joe, nodding. "Yes! I love trying out new recipes. I'm more of a cook than a baker, though; I'm really good at using knives and stuff."

That surely meant something else, you think.

Love chuckles nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the mention of knives. "Oh, uh, I'm more of a baker...as you know already." Jenna's smile widens. "Well, I also bake too! Don't mind getting my hands dirty." Joe's eyes widen slightly, sensing a hidden meaning behind Jenna's words.

Joe clears his throat. "Let's get eating, shall we?"

-

You're now home in your bedroom; the rest of dinner went well for the most part. You begin taking off your button shirt while Jenna removes her makeup in your shared bathroom.

"I think you should stop talking to Love." Jenna blurts out, catching you off guard. You pause, unsure of how to respond. "What do you mean?" you ask, continuing to unbutton your shirt.

Jenna turns around to face you, her expression serious. "Is there a problem with that?" Jenna's words hang in the air, causing a knot of unease to form in your stomach.

"I don't see why there would be a problem," you say cautiously, "but can you explain why you feel that way?"

Jenna takes a deep breath before speaking. "Why can't you just do this one thing for me without asking so many questions?" Her tone is tinged with frustration, and you take this as a sign to drop it. With a hum and nod, you agree, throwing your shirt somewhere in the room and sitting down on your bed.

Jenna leaves the bathroom, walking towards you with a small smile. "Thank you, baby." You smile back at Jenna, and she begins undoing her robe.

She lets the silky fabric slip off her shoulders; you can't help but admire the way it accentuates her curves. Jenna parts your legs, standing in between them, and without a second thought, your hands move to explore, caressing her soft skin.

Jenna leans in, her lips brushing against your earlobe as she whispers, "You know, sometimes I just need a little space to breathe." You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. Taking a deep breath and gently pulling her closer, you respond, "I think you just wanna show off."

She smiles, leaning back to look into your eyes. Her gaze is filled with a mix of playfulness and affection as she replies, "Maybe I do enjoy being the center of attention sometimes."

You open your eyes again, only to look out of your window and see your neighbor looking in your direction. You quickly let go of Jenna and rush toward your window, shutting the curtains.

"I can't believe he was spying on us," you mutter. Jenna chuckles softly and pulls you into a reassuring embrace, reminding you that it's just a harmless moment and not worth worrying about.

"Yeah, but that's weird. He's married with a son, and we literally just met him for dinner." Jenna places a kiss on your lips, "I'm all yours; no need to get worked up, my love."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. Despite Jenna's reassurance, you can't help but feel a twinge of unease about your neighbor's behavior. Maybe it's best to keep a closer eye on him in the future, just to be safe.

-

It's late, really late. Luna is back home, but thankfully she's asleep. You've been up waiting for Jenna since she left in the afternoon, but it's already well past midnight.

You open up your phone to try to ring Jenna's phone again, but these past few hours have been filled with unanswered calls and messages. Your mind starts to wander, imagining all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Maybe she got into an accident or lost her phone. You don't fucking know, but you're scared.

On cue, your fiance makes it through the door with messy hair and a tired expression on her face. She apologizes for being late, explaining that she lost track of time while catching up with Joe, your creepy, stalky neighbor.

You get up from the couch with an angry expression on your face. "Why's your hair all messy?" You demand, frustration evident in your voice. She begins to explain, "I put my head out the window after I finished my burger—a very good vegan burger, by the way. Why are burgers so tasty?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards Joe, wondering why she would spend so much time with him, especially after she knows how you feel about him. Going on late-night burger runs and sharing inside jokes with him. It's hard not to feel like you're being replaced, and her nonchalant attitude only adds to your frustration.

"I have to stop hanging out with my friends, but you get to go on all-day dates with Joe?" You sarcastically question, furrowing your eyebrows.

Jenna shakes her head, "Please. Not tonight." You feel yourself getting angrier by the second, your voice rising as you continue, "Do you see the way he looks at you? We literally caught him staring at you through his window?"

Jenna clenches her jaw, her eyes narrowing with annoyance and anger. "Why do you even care? It's not like you love me anymore." You pause, taken aback by Jenna's words. "What? Jenna, that's not true. I do love you."

Jenna lets out a fake laugh, rolling her eyes. "You know...you might think you're protecting my feelings, but it hurts ten times harder when you lie."

"I'm not an idiot, Y/N. I know you fucking kissed her that night." You feel a lump form in your throat as Jenna's accusation hangs in the air. Your mind races, searching for the right words to defend yourself. "Jenna..."

Jenna laughs, a bitter sound that cuts through the tension. "So sorry if I like spending time with someone who actually might be interested in me!" Her voice cracks, betraying herself.

"You're not being fair, Jenna! You can't blame me for being confused! You don't get to be conflicted! I'm...fucking lost! I don't know if I love you, there! I said it! I don't know if what we have is genuine because my soon-to-be wife fucking stalked me for years and killed anyone I tried to get close to. I've been living in fear, constantly looking over my shoulder." You yell, the veins in your neck coming out as you release your pent-up anger.

"I'm so fucking scared of you, Jenna. I don't know if you're going to hurt me...for not being 100% into you all the time, hurt someone for attempting to get close to me, or...hurt our daughter. So excuse me for even trying to find a safe haven."

Your words hang heavy in the air as you struggle to catch your breath. Jenna is at a loss for words, unsure what to say or how to respond to your raw and honest outburst. You watch her lips tremble slightly as she tries to form a response, but no words escape.

"...Fuck you, Y/N." She finally replies, pushing past you to leave the room.

-

"Y/N, hey!" You turn around to see Joe. You put on a fake smile; you're pissed off at this guy, and not only that, but he's interrupting your walk to clear your mind.

"Hey Joe, what's up?" you respond, trying to maintain your composure despite your frustration.

"I just wanted to see if you were doing okay." Joe's concern catches you off guard, and you can't help but soften your expression slightly. "Thanks; I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Joe hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, Jenna told me earlier that you two were planning on calling off the engagement."

Your heart skips a beat at Joe's words. Why the hell would she want to call off the engagement and not you? "Jenna must have misunderstood," you say, trying to hide your unease.

"We're not calling off the engagement. Everything is fine between us." Joe looks relieved but still seems skeptical. "Are you sure? Jenna seemed pretty convinced. Maybe you should talk to her and clear things up."

Yes, of course. You'll talk to your fiancé. You nod, turning back around to continue walking. "Oh, and Y/N," Joe calls out as you start to walk away, causing you to turn back around.

You feel something heavy hit your head, and your world turns black as you collapse to the ground.

When you regain consciousness, you find yourself in the same situation you were in years ago. Except this time, Jenna isn't present, but Joe, your neighbor, is.

"Fuck...not this shit again." You mutter, using the class cage to help lift yourself from the ground.

Joe tilts his head, confused. "Again. You're telling me you've been put in this situation before?" You touch your head, looking for any signs of injury. "Yeah," you reply, wincing at the pain. "I already know not to freak out and bang against the glass this time."

"Jenna must really like you," Joe says, raising an eyebrow. "She's the one who put you in something like this, right?" You nod, frustration evident on your face.

"I guess she learned from my old tricks." You chuckle bitterly, asking. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Joe smirks, standing up from his chair. "Well, let's just say Jenna isn't the first person to trap someone inside of a glass box; neither was I, but I think...I might've been the one to inspire her."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by Joe's cryptic statement. "What do you mean?" you inquire, wanting to know more about the origins of this bizarre, fucked-up situation.

Joe's smirk widens as he walks towards the glass box. "I guess you can say I was Jenna's first love, her muse, the one who possibly ignited her twisted creativity."

"I knew Jenna before everything." Joe continues, "I'd become a bit obsessed with her; she was the first person I loved after my ex-girlfriend broke my heart. Jenna had this magnetic energy that drew me in, and I couldn't help but be captivated by her. One day, she told me she was leaving New York to move to California, and I...snapped. I became possessive, desperate to keep her close to me. I put her inside the glass box my...mentor built so she wouldn't leave before I got the chance to talk to her about it."

You chuckle bitterly, not even surprised by the situation. After Jenna, you've become used to the fucked-up shit people can do. But Joe, he just seemed 10x worse. He practically made Jenna look like an angel."You guys are some truly fucked up people, man, I swear."

"Can you not? I'm pouring my heart out here." Joe sarcastically jokes, rolling his eyes. "But yeah, I guess you could say I went a little crazy. I just couldn't bear the thought of her leaving without giving me a chance to explain how much she meant to me. And seeing her again after all those years only intensified those feelings. I knew I had to do something, even if it meant risking everything."

You fake yawn, "So...you did all of this because, supposedly, my fiance is "the one who got away" for you?" Joe smiles, "Ding, ding, ding!"

"And what about Love? Your wife?" Joe's smile fades slightly as he looks down at his hands. "Love... Love and I—we've been drifting apart for a while now. We've tried to make it work, but sometimes people just grow in different directions. And I'm sure Jenna's dealing with her right now...for you."

Your ears perk up. "Dealing with her? What do you mean dealing with her for me?"

Joe looks up. "Killing her."

Your eyes widen in shock as you process Joe's words. "Wait, you can't be serious. Killing her? What about Henry?!"

Joe's expression turns grave as he responds, "I know it sounds extreme, but Love and I have exhausted all other options. We've tried therapy, communication, everything. Henry will be fine; I've already planned that out."

Joe's words send a chill down your spine. "Are you serious, this is fucking insane? You have to stop, Jenna! Joe, Love was your wife, and I know at one point you loved her. You can't let Jenna go through with this. There has to be another way to go about whatever the fuck you're doing, for Henry's sake and for your own sanity."

Joe walks away, not even bothering to acknowledge your plea. "Joe!" You shout, banging on the glass, desperate to get through to him. But he continues to walk away, his footsteps fading into the distance.

-

The door opens again, and you rise from the ground, rushing to the glass. But it's not Joe who appears; it's Jenna. "Jenna? Jenna, what happened?"

Jenna looks at you with tears in her eyes, her palm resting against the glass. "I love you, Y/N. I love our daughter, and I love our life together. But I just want to know if you love it too, and please, just be honest with me."

You feel a knot forming in your stomach as Jenna's words sink in. Her vulnerability and plea for honesty leave you speechless for a moment.

You realize that your answer will shape the future of your relationship and maybe even your life.

"I love you too, Jen. I swear. I—I won't let anything come between us again. Our life together means everything to me, and I can't imagine a future without you and our daughter. I promise to always be honest with you, no matter what."

Jenna's tears begin to subside as a sense of relief washes over her face. She takes a deep breath and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a silver key. With trembling hands, she opens the glass cage, and you fall into her arm, your own eyes filling with tears.

Jenna holds you tightly, whispering words of love and forgiveness. In that moment, you realize that your relationship has been given a second chance, and you vow to never take it for granted again.

"I couldn't do it. I thought about it. Fuck, Y/N. I was about to hurt Love and take Henry's mother away from him forever. But I thought about how I could never forgive myself, not even a little." Jenna's voice trembles with emotion as she continues, "I want to break free from that fucked-up pattern and create a better future for all of us."

You nod, pressing a kiss to Jenna's forehead. "I believe in us, Jenna," you say softly.

"Let's go, Y/N." You nod again, rushing out of the room together, determined to leave the past behind and start fresh. You make it to your car, Luna in her carseat carrier, ready for the journey ahead. Jenna starts the engine, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Your fiance speeds out of Marde Linda, and you turn to see smoke billowing from the town behind you, along with the sounds of sirens blaring in the distance.

"Where are we going?" You mutter to Jenna. She glances at you, placing a hand on your lap.

"We're going anywhere but here," she replies, her voice steady. "...I was thinking London. I've always wanted to live in England." The thought of starting a new life in London fills you with excitement and hope, causing you to smile regardless of the circumstance you had just escaped from.

Together, you embark on a new chapter, ready to rewrite your story and create a better life for yourselves and Luna in England.

#tonyspank #jenna ortega x reader #reader insert #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #you netflix #joe goldberg #love quinn #love quinn x reader #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega fluff #she

[imapirahana98]

My outlandish headcannon is that it's actually Mizu's mother that was white. We learn from Mizu that there are 4 white men in Japan, and that therefor it must have been one of them that is her parent. BUT Mizu only thinks that because her maid-turned-mother is Japanese. So it is entirely plausible that it was actually a white woman, rather than a man.

Now my really really outlandish theory is that it was visiting royalty of some sort that had a dalliance with a Japanese man. Which is why Mizu needed to die and why Mizu being born a woman matters. Can't inherit a throne if you're a woman right? Definitely don't want a mixed race illegitimate child if your a royal woman right? Maybe that's why fuckface is taking her to London.

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai

[evaglass]

Speculation about Mizu's parents pt. 4

Going back to the story of the Ronin and the Bride

This is official concept art, I believe. Look at the blue eyes, then specifically look at the baby, and the blanket the baby is wrapped around her. That blanket is seen somewhere else.

It looks like the blanket baby Mizu had laying below her

It's also seen again in a flashback when Mizu is a child and also used as her belt throughout the show.

Remember when I said that the Ronin and Bride could also represent her parents. Using the connections with the films that influenced the show, as well as hints of foreshadowing, I believe Mizu's mother found out she was pregnant, probably tried to run away to raise Mizu in safety (like the Bride in Kill Bill), realized that finding safety for both her and Mizu might take more time than she thought, left Mizu in the care the maid, during that time her actual mother was found and killed by one of the white men like Fowler stated before she could ever reunite with Mizu.

I also have a hunch that Mizu's biological mother died the same night Mizu's childhood home went up in flames, and she was left to survive on the streets. It would make the scene where Mizu is a child swearing to her 'mother' that she'll avenge them. Of course, Mizu was referring to the maid, who later turned out to survive that night, but then her quest for vengance later shifted to the reason being of her existence as a 'monster'.

I also believe the blue eyes of the Bride from the puppet show when she comes back as an Onryo are supposed to represent Mizu's mother's eyes as well, and that she got her blue eyes from her mother. Like Yuki, Mizu could be a representation of her mother's need for vengance after death.

Why? Well, because, as I said earlier, she could have tried to run away and find the best opportunity to leave Japan unnoticed (like how Beatrix tried to run away with her unborn daughter), but eventually was found and killed. So, her rage lives on through Mizu because her mother was taken away from her, was stripped of the chance to raise her, to be there when she was scared, lonely, or sad, to see all her milestones, to let her know that she loves her, etc.

Mizu could be a representation of her mother's rage beyond the grave, and she doesn't even know it

When Fowler finds out Mizu is actually a woman, he knows exactly who she is. That she was raised in hiding, that she had a maid raise her, that there's a high bounty for her.

I don't think Fowler laughed at the fact that Mizu is a woman, I think he might have laughed because he finds the situation ironic. He knows that Mizu is out for vengance because she's mad about her existence; that a white man, who brought pain to many people with his three fellow white men, impregnated her Japanese mother, causing her to be born a 'monster', and costing her the ability to live a normal life.

Fowler found out Mizu wants all her potential white fathers dead before he even found out she's a woman. After finding out Mizu is a woman, a specific woman too, he laughs because maybe he knows none of the white men are her father because it's mother who was the European one, and she's going through all that trouble only for the white person responsible for her existence to already be dead.

So if that's the case, why didn't Fowler just tell her? Well, do you honestly think Mizu would believe him? If anything, she could have seen the potential reveal of her mother being the European as getting him, Skeffington, and Routley to dodge responsibility. Fowler is a shitty person, but he's not stupid. Mizu is also a bit hot-headed, she probably would have definitely killed him if he revealed something like that.

Fowler knows Mizu being mixed-raced is a big insecurity for her and has proven to her that she will do anything to kill the people responsible for it. Fowler not telling her, could possibly be for the reason of simply buying himself time because him telling her she won't find Routley and Skeffington without him gives him the chance to find away to escape when they arrive at the British Isles.

Now, there's the question of who could be Mizu's father. I'll explain in part 5 (I know this already long, but I'm almost done)

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

#blue eye samurai #bes #mizu #blue eye samurai theory #abijah fowler

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Okay so my mother currently has custody of my cousins and has since they were babies, they are now 5 and 7. I still live at home with them. We are all just about blindingly white, but the boys are mixed race, the younger looks white but the older really does not. (This is very relevant)

My sister thought it was funny to try and teach them to "oink" at police officers and I said absolutely not he does not look white he cannot get away with that you're going to get him hurt and she got mad and said I was being racist for saying that.

My mother and sisters father have been teaching them that police officers are good guys and only hurt people who have either "ruined their own lives with drugs" or people who "are shooting at them first". I made some disbelieving humming sounds and my mother yelled at me in the restaurant that that wasn't funny but honestly I wasn't trying to be funny I think it's actively dangerous to be teaching them that nowadays especially to a child who is very clearly not white. My mother and my sisters father think that teaching them that police officers are heroes will make them be respectful towards laws and police officers but I think they should also be wary of them to a degree as they get older, and I understand that they're young and don't really need to know that yet but I think that it's worse to teach them they're heroes and then turn around and tell them the truth of what police do nowadays, and I doubt things will change enough in the next 4 or so years that they won't need to be taught it at all unfortunately.

I have told the boys when no one else was around that a lot of cops now do things they really shouldn't and should not be hero worshipped, but that they need to behave extra well around them. I did not go into any detail.

I feel extremely weird being the one to say it as a white person and am worried I'm going about it wrong, but they really only see the other side of their family a few times a year and I feel like they do need to know to be cautious and pretending they don't could endanger them.

Am I the asshole for this? I understand why they don't want to tell the boys and I do worry im not doing this right as a white person but I feel like it's not safe not to

#aita #am i the asshole

[lc-417]

Blue Eye Samurai Theory

*Spoilers Ahead*

This is just a crazy, shot-in-the-dark theory, but one that would make for an interesting twist (in my opinion anyway). What if Mizu's white half doesn't come from a man....but from a woman? Think about this:

Assuming Fowler isn't lying, the woman Mizu thought was her mother wasn't actually her mother. Just a maid paid to look after her (and who only did it until the money ran out). So who is Mizu's real mother then, and why couldn't she raise her daughter?

When Mizu was a baby, two men tried to kill her, but one lost the nerve and either maimed or killed his partner to save her instead. Could this have been her father, who couldn't bear to kill his own flesh and blood (even though it was mixed blood)? And though we never see him, we hear him refer to her as the "Devil Child". If this had been a white man, he probably would have made reference to her being a half-breed. It was the Japanese that saw her as a devil or demon.

It seems to be common knowledge that there were four white men in Japan when Mizu was born. But how many white women were there? Considering how Japanese women were seen as lesser than men, would anyone have even considered white women worth noting?

If the show keeps true to genetics, in order to be born with blue eyes, BOTH of Mizu's parents would need to be carriers of the recessive blue eye gene. So one of them had to be mixed race, or at least have white ancestry. Chances are equally good that this could have been her mother or her father. But seeing as how life was so difficult for Mizu that it was safer to pose as a boy, odds of surviving to adulthood would likely have been better for a mixed race man.

Like I said, just a crazy theory. But I think it would be interesting if, after killing all of her targets, Mizu discovers that none of them were her father and that the source of her white blood was her mother all along. Would she be as eager to exact revenge knowing a woman may not have had a say in the pregnancy?

Whatever direction this show takes, I just want Season 2 (and 3...and 4...whatever it takes to reach a satisfying conclusion). And soon (not 3 years later like Arcane). Get on it Netflix. If I don't get more Blue Eye Samurai, I'm gonna go on the revenge path...and I assume I won't be alone.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #Mizu #fan theory #fan thoughts

[sixth-light]

ok ok slightly feral post as promised.

first, some context setting: I think it's really interesting to analyse texts in terms of both what the author was trying to do (and whether they succeeded) and what they ended up doing (intentionally or not) and I think their cultural/historical context is vital if you want to do this. I'm not interested in whether Robert Jordan or the Wheel of Time are, like, morally correct in their politics or whatever. I'm interested in what the art is trying to do.

and the thing about Jordan, see, is that he projected this image during his lifetime of a Genial Older Man (see: beard and pipe) but he...wasn't actually that old! He was 42 when EoTW was published. He died at 58. He was a Baby Boomer publishing books at a time when Baby Boomers were the hip young generation taking over from stodgy WWII veterans (Gen Z: It Will Happen To You Too).

What this means is that he was a child and adolescent during the Civil Rights movement, in a then-majority Black city in the Jim Crow South*. He would have gone to segregated schools. The tertiary institutions he attended had only started to desegregate a year or two before he attended each of them. I think his war trauma in Vietnam gets a lot of attention because he did talk about it and also because that's a narrative we understand for white men, but I think we...skim over the impact on white men of growing up at this time because? Civil Rights only happened to Black Americans I guess? but it's his context too. Similarly, he was an adolescent and young man at the time the (white) feminist movement was really kicking off in the US. he was in his mid-20s when banks were first legally *required* to allow women to open accounts and have credit cards in their own names. he went on to marry a woman a decade older than him, who had left her husband to raise her son as a single mother while continuing a professional career in the early 70s; these were issues that must have been incredibly relevant for her.

and what we see in his writing is attempts to grapple with gender and race that are self-evidently of mixed success, but I think have to be contextualised in light of this period of immense change he grew up in. Think about the predominance of women as merchants and bankers in WoT, in the context of how recent their rights to even control their own money were in the US. The...everything...he was trying to do with the Seanchan, making them extra-canonically Southern American-coded. The Whitecloaks as the KKK (among other things, of course).

As an example, I think there's also something probably unintentional but fascinating in the way he presents the pre-Breaking Aiel: bluntly, they are a distinct ethnic group in hereditary servitude (always thinking about how that ancestor of Rand's in the Rhuidean sequence had to get permission from Mierin Sedai to switch to someone else's service so he could marry his girlfriend, this is...uh...super cognate to issues enslaved Black people faced). They're associated with agriculture through the Song sequence. And they're pretty much the ideal of what slave-owning Southern American culture WANTED enslaved Black people to be: completely happy to serve. Then, as the post-breaking Aiel, they become feared as a source of violence, which resonates with the way that enslaved people were feared by their slavers.

I don't think for a second that the intention here was to depict the AoL as a Secret Slavery Dystopia, I think we're meant to take the Rhuidean flashback sections pretty much as they read on the page. But I also think putting Jordan in his historical and cultural context does pose the comparison. Similarly, I find it really interesting that he positions Seanchan as riven by constant revolts and uprisings (because it's a fascist slaver regime) but he never ever goes so far as to link enslaved people in Seanchan (damane and da'covale) to those revolts and uprisings, even though that is fundamentally the deep fear *for real and obvious reasons* of all slavery-based societies.

Or then there's the changes to the Two Rivers in the books - like, both then and now I think it's actually pretty radical to present an influx of Muslim-coded refugees of colour as a thing that enriches the Two Rivers both socially and economically. Various characters are wistful that it's changed, but they don't think it's bad. The text here is really clear that welcoming the Domani and Almoth Plain refugees is both morally right and beneficial. And this is in a book being written and published shortly after the first Gulf War.

There's so many more things like this where I just have no real idea what he was trying to do on purpose and what was accidental and what was fun for him in fiction but did not necessarily link at all to his real-world political beliefs. but gosh it's interesting to turn over and poke at.

#wheel of time #wot book spoilers #robert jordan #and then there's things like...IIRC some stuff about Gareth Bryne is referencing General Lee #and I know a lot of you are Bryne haters but the point here is not #that that means Bryne is bad #it's: how hard was RJ thinking about that and why did he do it at all?

[newsfromstolenland]

I don't think white people realize how recently interracial marriage was not allowed, and how long prejudice against it continued (or continues)

canada has never specifically had legal bans on interracial marriage, but the KKK would proselytize against interracial marriage:

Unlike the United States, Canada had no blatant laws banning interracial marriage. But while the stigma was more informal in this country, it could be just as terrifying. As Backhouse describes in her 1999 book, Colour-Coded: A Legal History of Racism in Canada, 1900-1950, much of this terror was at the hands of the Ku Klux Klan. In 1927, Klansmen congregated in Moose Jaw, where they burned a 60-foot cross and lectured a large crowd on the risks of mixed-race marriage.

They would also kidnap people to prevent said marriages:

Three years later, on Feb. 28, 1930, some 75 Ku Klux Klan men dressed in white hoods and gowns marched into Oakville, Ont., and burned another massive wooden cross. They had arrived to intimidate Isabel Jones, a white woman, and her fiancé, Ira Junius Johnson, a man presumed to be black but later found to be of mixed Cherokee and white descent. The woman's mother had summoned the KKK to separate them.

The Klansmen kidnapped Jones, 21, and dumped her off at the Salvation Army, where they would keep surveillance on her for days from a car parked outside. In front of the couple's home, they burned a cross and threatened Johnson. During the invasion, the police chief recognized many of the Klansmen as prominent business owners from Hamilton as they plucked off their hoods to shake his hand.

This continued into the late 30s and the 40s, and often involved law enforcement:

Four months pregnant and eating breakfast with her fiancé in their pyjamas at their Toronto home, 18-year-old Velma Demerson was confronted by her father and two police officers. Demerson's father had sicced the cops on his daughter for what was scandalous behaviour at the time: Demerson, a white, unmarried woman, was living with a Chinese man, Harry Yip, and was carrying his child. Under the Female Refuges Act, Demerson was deemed "incorrigible and unmanageable" and incarcerated for nine months at Toronto's Andrew Mercer Reformatory for Women, where she was locked in a seven-foot-by-four-foot cell.

source for all

This was all within my grandparents' lifetimes. And the harassment and KKK and police involvement continued well into the 60s and 70s.

And there was the extremely confusing system of whether or not Indigenous people lost their "Indian status" based on who they married, which was all based on gender and blood quantums. This was under the Indian act, and you can read about the marriage discrimination in it here.

And it never really ended, not socially.

My parents got together as an interracial couple in the 80s. My mom's aunt (that's the white side of the family) refused to attend their wedding. In the 90s they got pulled over by a cop who asked if my dad was keeping my mom in his car against her will.

Just a few months ago a white woman refused to believe that my mom is my mom, because that would mean my mom fucked a brown person and that couldn't be right! My mom is so pretty, surely she didn't have to settle for a brown immigrant!

I know this post is long but I think that you should read this. I see people crack jokes about interracial marriage a lot, but I doubt many Canadians know its history on this land.

#mine #cdnpoli #canada #history #interracial marriage #racism #marriage

[radfemverity]

Tucker Carlson's interview with misogynist, human trafficker and rapist Andrew Tate has been endorsed by Elon Musk, the man who brought Tate among many other reactionary and far-right commentators back to Twitter when he purchased the platform.

There is nothing spontaneous about Musk doing this, and if you're surprised then you're a fool. This has never been about upholding free speech - hence why you've never seen any of these men promote interesting left-wing thinkers.

The ‘SJW’/‘woke’/progressive Left, as unbearably annoying as so many of them are, just keep getting proven right.

They said Nick Fuentes and Kanye were Holocaust-denying anti-semites.

They said Jordan Peterson supported rapists, and didn't believe women should have legal equality.

They said Ben Shapiro and Matt Walsh would use the gender critical movement to blame gay people and women for any and all degeneracies.

They said Tucker Carlson and Elon Musk's recent ‘free speech’ moves were about repositioning themselves so that they could more effectively elevate the voices of overt extremists.

Again and again, their accusations are ageing like fine wine. The reactionary right’s mask is well and fully off.

Andrew Tate, Elon Musk, Tucker Carlson, Jordan Peterson, Ben Shapiro, Matt Walsh, Joe Rogan, Konstantin Kissin, Paul Joseph Watson, Ian Miles Cheong, Andy Ngo, Michael Malice, Elijah Schaffer, Zuby, Milo Yionnopoulous, Tommy Robinson, Nick Fuentes, Kanye West, Donald Trump… obviously some of these men could dislike each other, I can't imagine Shapiro and Fuentes at the same house party.

But their ideal societies don't look too different. None of these mens’ do. Because any racial, religious or ethnic prejudices they have against each other will come second to their common-ground.

The organised reaction against this brand of progressivism that has rapidly come to monopolise every sector of public life in the last 10 years, is well and truly underway. Musk, Carlson and Tate have given us the sign. And while I pretty heavily dislike the current ‘woke’ progressive ideology (and have a lot of questions about its top-down cultural spread), I'm scared of these guys way more. And if you're anything but a straight man who doesn’t care about any demographic besides straight men, you should be too.

The reason I say ‘straight men’ and not ‘straight white men’ is because, come on, the reactionary right is more racially diverse than most left-wing groups at this point. 😂😂 White nationalists the world over have bent the knee to a mixed-race man who admitted moving to an Eastern European country because of their more lax laws on sexual assault, and in turn, the ease he would have in exploiting the local women in the country’s already active sex-trafficking trade.

White nationalists (whose role in the reactionary right cannot be discarded any more, after Trump and Kanye had a personal dinner with Nick Fuentes) feel more of an affiliation with a non-white, human trafficking violent rapist, despite evidence of his crimes having been public for a while now, than they do with his WHITE victims.

Jordan Peterson, whose daughter has revolved her entire public image around him, who works with and for him, and whose lingerie photographs were retweeted by him, made a dogwhistle in May about women having their right to vote retracted.

Examples of men devaluing the contributions and rights of the women in their families, communities and wider societies are withstanding the test of time, over and over again, because no matter where in the world they are, and no matter what tensions the different religions, cultures, ethnicities and races of men have with each other, there are traits that unite them all. Misogyny is the most obvious one.

The men of these diverse, far-reaching societies, in many ways feel far more of a kinship to each other, than they do to any woman, girl, gay person, disabled person, mother, child, or any other demographic.

The pendulum always swings back, and now that we know these men have got the owner of the world's biggest social media platform on their side, that is a major sign it could be coming soon. Be on guard and look after each other gyns ❤️

[theeggoman]

Being "Too White" Is A Myth.

Sometimes I worry that I'm just a white person pretending to be Latino (because when you're mixed race you're always thinking that you're not enough) but then I remember how every single person in my foster home including the adults referred to me as a "Wetback" or a "Beaner" or a "Fat Mexican" or an "Alien" instead of simply calling me by my white sounding first name because to white people, you will never be enough. It doesn't matter how much or how little white blood you have, in America if you're mixed with a single drop of anything that isn't white, you're not and will never be white.

I wasn't white when I was being tackled and forced down naked on the floor by the police at 12, I wasn't white when I was put in ESL at 8 even though english is my first language, I wasn't white when Christian religious leaders were explaining how I was cursed with the Mark of Cain to have a "skin of blackness" and being Latino made me inherently evil, I wasn't white when I was being sexually assaulted at 5 because I was "naturally promiscuous" and "born looking older" and "asking for it," I wasn't white when I was tackled by boarder patrol in south Texas and detained over night in a holding facility until my grandparents could come get me out, I wasn't white when my friend's mom took me bra shopping and insisted she had to be in the dressing room while I changed to make sure I didn't steal anything, I wasn't white when the doctor wrote my fucking race on my birth certificate while I was being pushed out of my Mexican mother who had to spend hours dealing with the racist medical staff who refused to let my white father into the delivery room because they didn't believe I was his child.

And now I get on tik tok and see people accusing mixed race children of being "white washed." They say we don't experience racism because we're "white passing." They tell us we're grasping for straws and we're stealing from our own fucking culture. They say we're "spicy white," that our blood is diluted, that we're not real.

Are we not real in the same way that our country did not legally recognize our white parents until the 1960's? Are we not real in the same way that we were legally declared bastards who couldn't inherit our own father's last name, his property, his money, our childhood homes? Not real in the way we weren't permitted to attend our white parent's funerals by their white family members? Not real in the way we weren't issued fucking social security cards? Were we not real when our parents couldn't "really" legally get married? Were we not real when our POC parent was shot dead for daring to fall in love with a white person? Were we not real when were named after our POC grandmothers? Were we not real when our White grandmothers cried at our birth and asked why we had to come out "so dark?"

Am I not real when I light the candles on my Ofrenda on November 1st and 2nd, when I bring fresh carnations and Pan Dulce for my brother because he was too young to have a favorite candy for me to put at his grave? Am I not real when I spend 6 hours slow cooking bone broth for Birria after removing all the seeds from the Guajillo chilis so my white friends don't die? Am I not real when I translate for a single mom who wants to use the library printer? Am I not real when I braid my curls? When I wash the Serepa? When I run from owls?

And am I not real when I jam out to country music? When I go camping with my friends? When I celebrate Christmas before Three Kings Day? Am I not real when I choose to embrace both sides of my culture? When I put my foot down and decide I am not half of anything, I am entirely both?

I don't care if you think I'm too white. Don't put your insecurities on me just because you don't wanna learn Spanish.

[senqv]

HOUSE OF KINGS.

blue lock ! royal / fantasy au series featuring : michael kaiser x fem! reader

warning(s): 1.1k , asshole ism , more traditional feminine roles , arranged marriage , lmk if there are more !!

a/n: how r we feeling

ONE. CHILD OF PROPHECY

in the reign of the first emperors, or so said the tales, the child of god is born — in silver moonlight and touched with the whisper of divinity.

they said that in his birth, the muses came and told it to his half-nymph mother, a beloved daughter of the water gods. they landed kisses on her sweat-sheened temple and sang each unravelling prophecy with the golden strings of their lyres; chosen by god, they purred, the emperor of kings.

they did not stay for long, but they had no need to. word travels swiftly in the whirling halls of the palace.

michael, gift of god, whom the divine had gingerly formed in their image, golden and jewel-eyed. the one who will fell men like wheat beneath a scythe and have them all crouching at his heel.

a godly son means haste to find a wife to carry on the bloodline, hungry in hopes that the gods will shine their divine light again with each beautiful son to come. and thus, the one they chose is you, daughter of house adalheidis, rumoured to have had divine blood from a sea nymph mixed in aeons ago. a nymph is the least of the lesser gods, but still a god, nonetheless, and divine blood purified the muddy dust of the human race to mould saints and heroes.

the divine blood of your house has long been watered down, with no traces of any deific features that might make an appearance in fables or folklore. but still, it is enough.

nymph, in the olden languages, is the same word for bride.

so perhaps your fate had been preordained long ago.

and so, when you first meet god, you are just short of thirteen years old.

they twine your hair with ribbons and strings of pearls, silent tittering as they dusted a pearly powder over your cheeks, an incandescent glow illuminating against the bronze mirror. your head lolls to the rhythm of their chatter, following the direction your hair was gently tugged at, eyes slow and blinking, not quite shed of the silvery sleep.

when you arrive, the sun shines brightly in the transparent sky, casting a golden glow over the white plaster of the palace architecture. banners hang from the ceiling, a royal blue, fluttering in the wind; your gaze climbs upwards, following the inscriptions of ancient fables, the effigies of the gods carved into the ceiling. the sunlight dancing in the curve of their marble eyes was so fervid you tore your gaze away in fear they might come alive.

a servant you had not caught the name of led you through the halls. he looked your age, maybe slightly older; not quite grown out into his lanky frame, eyes downcast and shy.

the emperor was not present, he had told you with nervous hands, and so you were being brought directly to the son of god himself.

your steps halt at a side door in the northernmost part of the palace. from what you could see, it was not as grand as the throne room you had passed by earlier, but it was obvious how pampered this boy prince was; before you, arched pillars loomed over the doors of imported oakwood, engraved with gentle carvings of even more obscure fables of prophetical sons and warrior kings.

he is lying on his side on a wide, pillowed bench, thick furs strewn all over the velvety couch. his eyes were half closed, lashes fluttering against his cheeks each time he blinked.

at the purposeful scuffing of your sandals against the floor, he glanced up briefly, lolling his head to the side to look at you.

lazily, his hands stroked the majestic forest cat on his lap, golden fur streaked like a lion, mirroring its owner. but no — it would be wrong to compare it as such. his hair was entirely different, lit by the sun with a spring honey lustre, spun from threads of gold. if you looked closer, within it glints the golden circlet of a prince, nearly black against the brightness of his hair.

you felt your breaths slow, gaping at the cold shock of his beauty. he was not much older than you, but incomparable with the boys your age; of jewel blue eyes sharp as a beast, cheeks and mouth tinted a cherubic rose, painted by the careful muses themselves.

if you were not a child of noble birth, you're quite sure your jaw would have been hanging slack by now. instead, you pressed your lips together and tore your gaze to the floor.

you can feel his eyes on you, and hear a slight shuffle of him leaning more forward to regard you. "what is your name?" his voice is silken, tinged with the slight crackle of sleep and boredom. you keep your gaze screwed to the ground out of spite, a muscle in your jaw ticking. your family was one of the great pillars of the empire, flourishing in trade and commerce. you were his arranged bride, to be the empress of his nation. and yet he still did not know you.

now, he sits up completely, cat yowling faintly in his lap. he speaks again, louder, clear as the glacial waters of the north. "what is your name?" the first lapse of silence was excusable, perhaps you had not heard. now, the boy prince demands an answer.

and so, you level your gaze with his, staring with all the conviction and animosity of a noble girl who had never experienced such blatant disregard. you speak your name as if casting a spell, each syllable strong and resonant, muttered with intention — to engrave your name in his mind, to make sure he could not forget it even if he wanted.

"of house adalheidis," you added in finality.

he's focused on you now, silvery blue gaze as cutting as a knife. he tips his chin up, staring downwards. "my name is michael," he purrs, "kaiser." the side of his mouth quirked slightly at the intensity of your stare. from the corner of your eyes, you faintly notice the dimples appearing at the sides of his face.

you both held the other's gaze in silence. the amusement on his face was obvious, and your brows melded together in confusion for a split second.

then he blinked, mouth cracked open like a yawning cat, mirroring the feline on his lap.

kaiser's interest came as quickly as it left, as if everything was a divine comedy preened before him to garner his delight. he no longer was looking at you.

"welcome to the palace."

you were raised in court, and you knew dismissal when you heard it. you lowered your head with clenched fingers, bruising the crushed silk of your dress.

#— HOUSE OF KINGS. #slayed #bllk #bllk royal au #blue lock #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader

[queerasfact]

Black History Month: Stormé Delarverie

Stormé DeLarverie was born in 1920, in New Orleans. The child of a black mother and a white father, they were violently bullied because of their mixed race. Stormé credited their difficult childhood with teaching them to defend themselves – and others – later in life.

Their long life spanned a range of careers, from circus performer to jazz singer to drag king.

In September 1969, their quit their performing job, got a gun licence, and began working as a bouncer for New York’s lesbian bars, describing themselves as  “…a well-paid babysitter of my people, all the boys and girls.” They continued in this job well into their 80s, and also became well-known in the queer community for their generosity and charity work, using their talent as a singer to raise money for people living with HIV/AIDS, and women and children suffering domestic violence.

While describing themself as “a stone cold woman”, Stormé embraced an ambiguous gender presentation, saying: “People used to ask me if I preferred being called he or she. I said, ‘Whatever makes you comfortable’.”

Stormé was with their partner Diana for 26 years, and after Diana’s death, carried her photo in their wallet for the rest of their life.

Learn more

[image description: Stormé in their 70s stands outside lesbian bar The Cubby Hole. They are wearing a pistol on their belt.]

#black history month #black history #storme delarverie #queer history #lesbian history #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbt history #queer women #black women #wlw

[evaglass]

Speculation about Mizu's parents pt. 1

I don't like usually posting much online, but I do enjoy this series very much, and I would like to discuss possible directions it could go

I think about this moment a lot

A decent amount, actually

Mizu has had to hide her entire life of being a mixed-race girl for her safety, but there's an implication that it's not just because of that reason alone

There's a big assumption that one of the four white men put the bounty on Mizu, and as terrible as they are, there's reasons they probably aren't the ones that placed the bounty on Mizu. I don't think the four white men really care about any bastards they could have produced; I will explain.

Yes, Fowler neglected his offsprings to the point of starvation, but I don't think he was actively hunting them down, and here are the reasons why:

Fowler doesn't really seem to care to put too much effort into caring if the children he profduced in Japan lived or not. It just seemed more like he didn't want to be bothered with any children he had fathered.

If Fowler really cared about having all his children dead, he wouldn't have let Heiji Shindo give Mizu the option to be a Lord in order to leave Fowler alone in exchange

He just really didn't seem too bothered to deal with the situation. He didn't understand why Mizu went through all the effort to killing him (probably because he's not responsible for the bounty).

Also, Violet is already very much dead. I assume Routley and Skeffington have been away from Japan for a few years now, so why would they still keep the bounty up? It feels like it would be a bit counterproductive.

So why is there a bounty specifically for Mizu?

Is it for the "selling the unwanted daughters of Japan" aspect that Fowler pointed towards Routley and Skeffington of being responsible for? Do they want to sell Mizu abroad for profit? No, I don't think that's the reason.

When Mizu asked the bounty hunters, "Which white devil do you work for?" They respond by saying she's the only white devil they see, and then call to kill her.

When Mizu asked who told them where she was, they responded with "the bounty is a sum few could resist."

This says a lot:

The bounty is for sure specifically for her (a mixed-raced girl with blue eyes)

They're looking to only kill Mizu, as if to erase her from existence

The bounty is a high bounty

And the bounty hunters are probably not being sent by any of the four white men

So, who is responsible for putting a bounty on Mizu's head? Well, I want to dive into Mizu's parentage for this because I don't think any of the four white men are Mizu's father. I don't think her father was white at all.

I think there might be subtle evidence to suggest the contrary; that Mizu's mother was European, while her father was Japanese.

I'll dive into this. Remember the play about the Ronin and the Bride in episode 5?

Remember how people pointed out how both the Ronin and Bride represent Mizu, which I agree with. However, I think they're also supposed to represent her parents, and the child is also supposed to represent Mizu.

Before I keep talking about the Ronin and the Bride, I want to talk about the show's influences. I promise this has a point.

Two of the biggest influences are Kill Bill and Yentl. I'm not gonna get into Yentl too much, I have never seen it. I'm just gonna loosely retell a synopsis I found; Yentl is about a woman who dresses as a male in order to study religious scripture forbidden to women to learn. You can see some of the connections there.

I want to focus on Kill Bill more. Specifically more in pt. 2 as tumblr is only letting me use ten pictures per post.

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

#blue eye samurai #bes #mizu #blue eye samurai theory

[avpdvoidspace]

Do you ever struggle with being demonized for your quietness? I have, pretty much my whole life. I think it's a huge problem in society, if I'm being honest. I'm tired of acting like my whole child-self was in the wrong for not being able to bring myself to talk in a lot of situations, especially since I didn't get diagnosed and treated for my disorders until I was an adult. To be honest, I think it's society's way of demonizing people with AvPD, non-verbal autism and selective mutism. Thinking people like us are "rude" or "suspicious" for only speaking when spoken to, or having a non-verbal episode where we can't speak at all. I was suspected of being violent or "hiding something". Also I was deemed "weird" and treated like some alien due to other neurodivergencies as well.

People on this website sometimes act like being quiet is also a weakness or result of privilege. My parents were encouraging me and trying to get me to speak all the time, though. No one was saying "you don't have to speak if you don't want to". My father used to get angry with me about it, calling me "weak" and my mother used to guilt-trip me for it, claiming I "never tried hard enough" for her because I couldn't get myself to be neurotypical.

I also grew up in a world of domestic violence. My mother told me the abuse she faced from my father started getting particularly worse when she was pregnant with me. I was a little child born on-edge and having to walk on eggshells. My parents would get into violent fights with each other and my father would hit me, too. Both my parents worked and instead of spending time at home playing or bonding with family like other kids did, I was made to go to headstart when I was only like 2. I know it might seem like not a big deal, but thinking about it, I didn't have the same experiences that average kids do, and I still don't know if whether or not that contributed to my avoidant personality. I didn't even realize most kids don't even start school until they're 4 or 5 until I was much older. People have been getting me out there and encouraging me to socialize with others since the very beginning. It never worked.

I spent my whole life hating myself for it. I felt like I was never competent and that I was a burden on my mother. And there were many times I did try to make connections with others but they ended up either backstabbing me or shaming me for my interests. I regret a lot of the times I allowed myself to be known by others. There are many memories of me simply saying things to people that make me feel awful. Terrible disorder.

I did manage to make and keep some friends. But also I'm still not truly myself with most of them and still afraid they're going to end up demonizing me too if they knew more about me. Being queer and growing up with having kinks has left me with seeing so much family, strangers, and even other queer people say people like me are "freaks" and "degenerates" to my face without knowing they're talking someone who's exactly the kind of person they think should be killed.

I saw a post recently and honestly, it doesn't even apply to me. However, it still managed evoke a lot of negative emotions and memories I am experiencing right now...

So there's this post going around that goes something like "discourse about letting kids not say 'trick or treat' is concerning"(paraphrasing) which was weird to me at first because I've never seen anyone say they allow their kids not to say it. I've always said "trick or trick" during Halloween as a kid, even adding some "meows" because I liked being a cat. So it doesn't even apply to me.

But then there were people acting like not saying it comes from a place of privilege. Someone was like (paraphrasing again)"when I was giving out candy, all the black children were lively and sweet, and all the kids who didn't say it were white and probably middle class".

And that struck me a bit. I'm mixed race. People treated me like a potential violent threat because of my quiet nature, which was a result from trauma, not anyone "babying" me. I was always working class. My parents didn't even own a car. We used public transportation to get everywhere.

BIPOC kids who are quiet get treated as threats! Of course you fucking enjoy lively black kids. If one of them was quiet, you might demonize them...

Then there were people saying "you people just need to grow up."

It's so strange that traits that apply to non-verbal autism or CPTSD get deemed as "social anxiety", because tumblr thinks that is the lesser disorder.

I don't know. I got a lot of bad memories spring up from seeing that post, and I just wanted to vent about it here. So many people demonized me for being quiet growing up and it made me believe I was a monster for so long.

I'm not even saying I encourage the behavior of refusing to talk to people. I had a nice conversation with an old woman at Dunkin yesterday. I enjoy small talk and listening to others talk, even when I can't add much to the conversation. I just worry about other children who are like how I was growing up, being traumatized and quiet and being treated like shit for it... I don't trust anyone sees "quiet" as "rude"

I'm sorry about the length and I hope you're doing well.

anon, I'm sorry this took me so long to post. I just want to say that your ask really resonated with me and I've thought about it several times since receiving it. I get similarly frustrated when I see priveleged people praising marginalized for being more friendly, more whatever, for similar reasons. Or setting up an oppression competition between two groups they're not even a part of.

#avpd #avoidant personality disorder #again #sorry to take so long to post these #have been especially avoidant