#Bad very gradually telling very select people about it

[qsmprambling]

Imagine Egg A1 still has one life left, and it somehow manages to escape the facility... It is being followed by mobs, by Federation employees, being hurt by the poison ivy and other environmental threats, but it keeps running, because what other choice is there? That parkour course was a trick after all, the last block was a fake, it was never meant to pass that test in the first place.

So it keeps running, but the Federation workers are getting closer. It won't be able to avoid them forever...

But then it bursts through some bushes and comes face to face with someone new - and it's Bad, out building or exploring or just wandering alone. A1 is immediately afraid, of course. It is a stranger, a very visually striking stranger, the complete opposite of the pure white and featureless employees of the Federation. But there are people close behind, and it knows what will happen to it if it is caught, so... It has no choice but to try. It has no way to communicate, no signs or books, so it simply rushes to hide behind him and hopes he understands, and that he is willing to help...

And Bad, for his part, well.. he's an extremely cautious and paranoid person, and this is just an incredibly confusing and unexpected situation to be in. An unknown egg appeared out of nowhere and is hiding behind him, he can see Federation employees in the distance that are clearly looking for something... He knows that the code has been disguising itself as eggs, and that the strange egg in front of him with no marks, no distinguishing features, an egg that he has never seen before, could easily be the code monster preparing to attack at any moment...

But there is absolutely no way Bad could ever look at an egg in distress and not try to help it, even knowing it could be a trap.

So he quickly digs a shallow hole and pushes the mysterious egg into it, covering it up just in time, and when the employees throw him a book asking if he had seen anything, he lies effortlessly, he complains about nonsense, he asks them where the Ekea is and is as annoying as he can be, until they leave.

And now they're alone... just Bad an this mystery egg in the middle of the woods, A1 too afraid to leave the hole even when Bad tries to coax it out. He gives it food and tries his best to comfort it, to tell it everything is okay and that the pursuers are gone. He gives it some signs and a book, trying to see if it will write anything to him or answer any of his questions, but he gets no reply. A1 is just too afraid to even attempt to answer, and Bad doesn't even know if it understands him. He tries what few words he does know of the other languages, and still no response.

What should he do? As much as the image of a tiny, terrified egg makes him want to do all he can for it he also needs to be safe. He can't bring it home, because if it is a code there is no way he is bringing it anywhere near Dapper. Should he call someone else for help, or would that draw too much attention? Would it even be safe for him or the egg to let anyone know right now? And was this egg dangerous, or harmless and in need of protection? He wouldn't abandon it regardless but...

What now?

#Egg A1 #badboyhalo #I am a Bad watcher it will always be qBad in my what ifs even if anyone could do it #Plus he is perfect for the job #I can't write fic but yes this is basically an A1 fic oops #ElQuackity you thought killing a featureless egg was a safe option but you're wrong we are all attached #I want A1 to be alive and to escape to be adored and protected #Also I bet if Bad got caught with a mystery egg I think he'd just go 'Huh? No this is my other child you just never saw them before :)' #Also for some reason my brain was calling A1 'Alice' but then I saw people using 'Ai' and that's adorable too~ #Though it also makes me think 'artificial intelligence' but hey maybe that is fitting for the fabricated eggs theory XD #'What now' I ask as if I am not already imagining Bad trying to protect A1 and also be safe in case it is a threat #not wanting to think it is but unable to know otherwise #but also being so BBH about it and just being in complete dad mode when they interact #he keeps it in it's own safe little secure home and does what he can to help it with minimal communication for several days #until A1 starts to open up little by little - incredibly slowly #Bad very gradually telling very select people about it #until eventually when the Federation finds out - everyone who knows is immediately hmm what no this is our child what do you mean? #and go ultra protective #because A1 deserves the world #fic within the tags yes #Bad ruined my sleep schedule and I can't sleep mindless rambles time

[mirai-e-jump]

UTB (Up to Boy) Magazine, October 2023 Issue (Vol. 330) ft. Yuzuki Hirakawa Interview and Photo Shoot (translation below)

Publication: August 23, 2023 (between episodes 25-26)

"If you could look back on it alittle, please tell us how you felt when you passed the audition."

Hirakawa: I've auditioned for the Sentai series afew times in the past, but I never made it through that many rounds of judging. For the first time, I was nervous and anxious as I realized that as the judging proceeded, I would be a finalist. When I received the results, with a great sense of relief I though, "Ah, thank goodness…."

"Please tell us about Rita Kaniska, the character you play."

Hirakawa: Rita is the international judge, and King of the country Gokkan. They're calm, composed, and rarely talks, and while they seem like a very serious person, I think they're a character with a cute side, like when they're alone and act like they're talking with their "Moffun" plushies.

"Due to your costume, you can only see with one eye, do you ever find any challenges playing such a role?"

Hirakawa: At first, I felt like it was difficult to convey my emotions through just my visible left eye. I would try squinting my eyes alittle, pulling my chin back, it was alot of trial and error, and I gradually felt like I was reaching a breaking point. When I discussed it with the Director, he told me, "You don't have to try to act with just your left eye. If you express your mind and feel the scene, it'll come out naturally." From that point on, I thought I was able to get in front of the cameras without having to do strange poses.

"Rita doesn't talk much, doesn't show much emotion, but, it's a cool role to play, are there any aspects that overlap with your own?"

Hirakawa: I've been told by the staff and cast around me that I resemble them quite abit. At first, I didn't think I was like them at all. Rita doesn't talk at all, while I'm the complete opposite. I talk all the time and am the type to become excited easily. However, I think they're similar in that Rita has an unexpected side to them, like when they're alone in their room talking to plushies.

"What's an unexpected side of Hirakawa-san?"

Hirakawa: In terms of a gap, the first impression of me is often that I look quiet or shy, but that's not true at all. I'm always really excited (laughs).

"At first glance, she looks cool, but her personality is the complete opposite! By the way, how did Hirakawa-san get into the entertainment world?"

Hirakawa: I joined my agency when I was in my second year of high school. Before that, I was attending a business high school in my hometown of Kumamoto, where I studied bookkeeping and various other subjects, all while thinking about becoming a tax accountant in the future…..

"A tax accountant! This is once again another contrasting world."

Hirakawa: When I started my second year, I thought, "I'd like to start doing something." At that time, I happened to learn about LDH (Hirakawa's agency) on TV and decided to do an audition. Before that, I had no desire to be in the entertainment industry, or to even give it a try.

"So now you're on a path that you never would have imagined yourself on previously. Did things go well once you joined the agency?"

Hirakawa: No. First off, I had no idea about the entertainment world, and while I had gone to various auditions, I was never selected. I thought I had understood that, "It's exhausting, this isn't an easy job afterall." But, slowly, I've been able to participate in dramas and stage plays, and now that I'm finally appearing in King-Ohger, I feel that I can now say with pride that I'm an actor.

"In a way, this could now be called the "starting line." The Sentai series is long running performance that lasts a year. How do you hope to grow over the course of the series?"

Hirakawa: In the previous productions I performed in, I did kind of bad with scenes where there were large groups of people, and it was a challenge for me to show my movements in such situations, but, now that I'm mostly in similar kinds of scenes, I'm able to get around naturally, and I hope I've overcome these challenges. If you haven't watched King-Ohger yet, I hope you'll check out Yuzuki Hirakawa's growth and development!

#ohsama sentai kingohger #kingohger #super sentai #rita kaniska #rita kanisuka #moffun #yuzuki hirakawa #hirakawa yuzuki #my scans #my translation #toku cast #tokusatsu #toku #king ohger #interview #people #magazine #up to boy #cute #this arrived earlier #anything with yuzuyan is good #but I do wish it was longer #the interview with karen yanagihori was good too #overall alot of cute girls in this issue

[goldensunset]

Hey. Pspsps.

I don't 100% know who your favorite characters are.

If I asked you to pick one and go ham telling me about them, would you?

*grabs you* ok today i’m gonna change it up and talk about a pair of characters i don’t usually talk about

loooong story short (i'll dm you the story if you want or something) roxas and xion were the reason i got into the kh franchise. their story and their unique indescribable connection to our wonderful protagonist singlehandedly took me from the mindset of 'haha kh is a dumb wacky disney fanfiction' to 'this is genuinely a stunning and heartwrenching piece of media full of so much honest and serious emotion and love and i'm insane now'

here's a boy who was never meant to exist, a mistake, someone who doesn't even possess the full capability to experience emotions, someone who's just the inferior resentful shadow of another who needs to die so that the precious original can come back. but he wasn't gonna take that lying down he fought tooth and nail until the bitter end against his fate and defiantly proclaimed that he was human and he was himself and yet it was all in vain. but it still mattered. it mattered to us and it mattered to those who knew him. the love was there even if it couldn't save him it still mattered.

meanwhile, here's a girl who's just a patchwork mess of pieces of other people. a clone of both sora and roxas, meant as a backup vessel for xehanort, wielding what used to be riku's key, having accidentally absorbed select memories of kairi from the magic naminé wove. it's a miracle she exists at all. does she exist at all? she was an 'it', an empty thing designed to mimic the fighting capabilities of another, who gradually started absorbing that other's memories of some girl until it subconsciously tricked itself into thinking it was that girl. suddenly 'it' became 'she.' but she had her own life experiences and therefore was not that girl but someone new entirely. what exactly did her mind look like? what did it feel like to be her? her mind was just a fragment of sora's mind and she didn't even know who he was. the insane headaches and crises that came free with her very existence drove her to seek answers and eventually made her realize she shouldn't even be alive.

but she was so brave. she was so so brave and resolute and made the firm decision to sacrifice herself for the greater good even though she should've never had to. it was the only agency she had and she took hold of it. she knew there was never any hope for her but she at least wanted something good to come out of her demise. roxas didn't really have that same agency even though he seems more proactive as a character at first glance. roxas fought and fought but was constantly being dragged here and there by the narrative up until the end. he fought his fate and xion accepted hers and they both met the same tragic end.

in kh2fm we saw what was left of roxas, angrily fighting back inside of sora. he was full of hate and anger and who can blame him? he should've won. he was stronger. almost. but victory eluded him once more. it was all for nothing and roxas faded again and sora was so confused and full of sadness he didn't even understand.

then in ddd we again saw roxas within sora's mindscape, but that time he was so so different. that time he was calm and smiling and gentle. roxas had surrendered. but sora told him what we'd all been wanting to tell him- he was his own person and deserved to be treated as such. to which roxas said like the best line in the series: 'sora, see? that's why it has to be you.'

roxas wanted things his way, he wanted his own life, he was bitter and sick of people telling him he had to make sacrifices for others. roxas would've gotten rid of others for his own sake. meanwhile sora had always been intensely loving and selfless. sora was always reaching out to people, seeing the light and humanity in them, caring about them. i'm not saying roxas was bad for wanting to live or that sora's insane constant self-sacrificial behavior isn't deeply worrying but the point here is: sora was the hero roxas wasn't.

roxas recognized this. that's why it had to be sora. if it was the other way around, roxas wouldn't have had the strength to be the person sora was. he would've never surrendered on his own. he had to be forced to surrender and then spend time within sora's heart to begin to understand him and to begin to love him.

roxas resented sora because roxas had to be sacrificed in his name. he didn't want to die to save someone he didn't even know who was apparently his real self and the only person who mattered. roxas was sick of hearing about him. but then once roxas met him he couldn't help but love him too. both because sora is just that easy to love, and because something in roxas resonated with- well, his other. that was him and that wasn't him and that was who he used to be and that was who he would be and they each held a piece of each other within them and even though they were their own people they would obviously be forever linked.

the bond that was created between sora and roxas transcends anything i really even have the language to say. or anyone who speaks this language to say. or possibly anyone in existence. that's self love and love of another in one. they're part of each other. i'm really normal about it

#*lies down* #roxas #sora #xion #kingdom hearts #mine: kh #hough. posts written while looping various versions of xion's theme #asks #stresslitzia

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ayato Dark [08]

Monologue

I walked all over the city,

in search of Ayato-kun.

While doing so,

the rain gradually got heavier.

At some point I realized,

that the moon shining in the night sky earlier,

had become shrouded in thick clouds,

and was no longer visible. 

ー The scene starts in an alleyway

Yui: ( He’s not here either... )

( I wonder where he went...? )

ー The scene shifts to the park

Yui: ( What should I do? Maybe I should just return to the manor  at once...? )

Selection

→ Go back

Yui: ( I guess I should turn back after all. I won’t get anything from running around aimlessly... )

ー Yui starts walking away

→ Search a bit longer (❦)

Yui: ( But...With a downpour like this, I’m sure he’s drenched by this point... )

...Ayato-kun...

( I’ll look around a bit longer after all. )

ー Yui continues walking around

Yui: Hm? Huh...? 

( There’s someone over there... )

ー She notices Ayato

Yui: ...! Ayato-kun!

ー Yui runs up to him

Ayato: ...Chichinashi...

Yui: Thank god, I found you...

Ayato: The fuck? ...You’re here to scold me again? 

Yui: I’m not...

( He’s absolutely soaked... )

Let’s go back? Everyone’s worried about you. 

Ayato: Hah, as if. Don’t you think those guys are hella relieved knowin’ that I’m gone? 

Especially that Reiji guy. 

Yui: That’s not true...

I’m sure that Reiji-san said all of those things because he truly wants you to try your best...

He wants you to become a formidable King...

Ayato: ...A King, huh...?

God...I wonder why I was chosen? 

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: I’m talkin’ ‘bout the Old Man. What made him decide he’d give his powers to me...?

Yui: Well...

( Richter-san mentioned it as well. About what Cordelia-san found so promising about him... )

( When it comes down to it, there’s nobody you can count on more than Ayato-kun. )

Yui: Listen, Ayato-kun...This is what I think...

This whole time, no matter what happened, you were always there to save me at the very end, remember?

Ayato: ...

Yui: There might be those people who will write off your ability to fix issues based solely on your intuition as mere recklessness. But you know...

That isn’t something everyone is capable of. But you are able to pull it off...

Therefore, don’t you think that you could have some kind of special talent?

And I strongly believe that Karlheinz-san realized this as well, which is why he...

Ayato: ...Hmph. The fuck...? Don’t be spoutin’ random nonsense!

Yui: ...It’s not nonsense...!

Karlheinz-san had faith in you. I’m sure that he believed you have what it takes to become a King...

Ayato: ...The Old Man...had faith in me...?

...That’s a lie. There’s no way that Old Fart would ever trust me.

No need to try and make me feel better ‘bout myself. Deep down, you think the same thing, don’t you? Just like Reiji and the others...

That I’m simply not cut out to be a King...

Yui: ...

Ayato: I’m sick of everyone complainin’ to me the whole time. 

I never asked for these powers in the first place...

Yui: ...

( I wonder when I’ve last seen him so utterly defeated...? )

( I’m sure Ayato-kun felt anxious as well after inheriting those powers... )

( But this is Ayato-kun we’re talking about. He couldn’t tell anyone about it... )

( So he put up a facade, pretending to be fine while enduring it all by himself... )

( I wonder why I didn’t realize...? )

ー Yui suddenly embraces him

*Rustle*

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“I won’t let you go, no matter what happens. So just keep quiet and do as I say. Do you understand?”

“You’re a hundred years too early to try and help me out. ...But well, I guess it doesn’t feel bad knowin’ you’re this worried ‘bout me.”

Ayato: Chichinashi...?

Yui: I truly believe...that you have what it takes to become a wonderful King...

I know very well just how reliable you can be...

Ayato: ...

Yui: I’m not you...

So perhaps I simply cannot understand how difficult it is to have those kinds of powers but...

...But I’m here for you, at the very least. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do?

Ayato: Chichinashi...

Yui: ( ...This isn’t working. I can’t put my feelings into words very well... )

Ayato: ...Hehe. Silly girl. 

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: Hah! Why are you the one in tears? You really are a weirdo.

Yui: W-Well...!

Ayato: Oi, scoot a lil’ closer. You’re gonna get wet if you stand there. 

Geez...I can’t believe you ran around in the rain. You better not catch a cold, do you hear me? 

*Rustle* 

Ayato: You belong to me after all. Nn...

*Smooch* 

Yui: ...

( Forceful yet so sweet... )

( This is the Ayato-kun I know... )

*Rustle rustle* 

Ayato: Hey, Yui...

Yui: Eh? 

Ayato: Do you...truly believe that I can become a King...? 

Yui: Of course! So I want you to give it everything you’ve got. 

Who ever said you have to do everything perfectly from day one? I’m sure the others wouldn’t be able to do that either...

Ayato: ...

I wonder how it was for the Old Man? 

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: Did he also start out making mistakes when wielding his powers...

Or find himself wondering why he was chosen to become a King...?

Yui: Well...

Ayato: Just kidding. There’s just no way, huh? ...Hehe. 

Yui: ...Maybe not. But...

Karlheinz-san was Karlheinz-san...You are you, right?

Ayato: I mean, you do have a point. I’m Yours Truly...

Monologue

Speaking those words, he cracked a small smile. 

However, his smile (笑顔) still struck me as unusually sad. 

I wonder why Karlheinz-san decided to leave this world,

without telling Ayato-kun anything. 

If only he had given him some kind of explanation...

as to why he had chosen Ayato-kun...

Then perhaps he would never have had such a hard time like he does now.

As said thought lingers in my heart,

I gazed up at the heavily overcast sky (空).

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #leayatodark8

[joongalez]

Neverland | k.hj

Chapter 2

<- PREV | NEXT ->

"THREE tickets, please."

Nari shakily hands over three of her tickets to the young boy manning the Ferris wheel. The boy smiles kindly at her before gesturing for her to step onto the Ferris wheel.

Nari does just that, stepping into the blue cart and sitting down. The boy pulls the lap bar over Nari and gives her another kind smile before going to start the ride.

The cart starts moving upward but stops to let the people behind Nari out and new people on.

Nari takes a deep breath as the Ferris wheel gradually starts moving closer and closer to the top as more people get off and on the carts behind Nari.

Once Nari's cart makes it to the top of the Ferris wheel, Nari has her eyes shut tight and is trying to breathe evenly through her nose.

Don't look down. Don't look down.

The cart moves and Nari jumps, gripping the lap bar tightly. She doesn't open her eyes as the Ferris wheel goes a little bit faster, making a few circles up and down before it starts letting people off and on once again.

Nari opens her eyes as the people in front of her are getting off the cart and new people are stepping on. The Ferris wheel moves and Nari is finally at the bottom, the boy pulling the lap bar off and Nari shakily stepping off the Ferris wheel.

Nari walks over to a bench and shakily sits down, forcing her breathing to calm down.

I did it.

Her lips turn up into a smile. She did it! She rode the Ferris wheel and although she almost had an anxiety attack, she still did it. Her therapist will be so proud of her.

Her smile turns into a frown.

Should she still go to the swing carousel? She told herself she would, but after that ride on the Ferris wheel, she really just wants to go home.

You made a plan, Nari tells herself.

She sighs. She should at least go on the swings. It won't be as bad as the Ferris wheel. She'll just sit in a swing and go around, feel the wind and sun on her face, be able to smile. She'll be fine.

Nari makes her way over to the swings and takes a deep breath before standing in line. Once she gets to the front of the line, she sees the man taking everyone's tickets.

The man is taller than her by six or seven centimeters and wears a multicolored shirt and blue jeans. His hair is a light red color and he has fake butterfly clips in his hair. His eyes are a dark brown and he has a smile that lights up his face.

"Hi," he says with his kind smile as Nari walks up to him. "Three tickets, but I can make it two if you'd like."

Nari feels her cheeks heating up. "No, please. I only have three left and I'd like to use them."

"You sure?" The man takes the tickets Nari hands to him.

She nods. "Yes, please. This will be my last ride."

"Have you been here long?" He seems a bit confused.

"No," Nari admits. "Not long. But I do have to go soon."

The man nods. "Of course. Pick your swing and I'll get the ride started up."

Nari gives the man a kind smile before stepping through the gate and selecting the seat closest to her. She pulls the bar back down and gently holds onto the chains of the swing.

The man finishes letting people inside and begins walking around the ride, making sure everyone has their bar over their lap. He stops at Nari and attaches the bar to the chain underneath the seat because Nari forgot to.

"Sorry," Nari says quickly. "I forgot. Thank you."

"It's my job," the man says. "Don't be sorry."

He lingers there a moment too long, but Nari doesn't look away. Something about him draws her in.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Nari," she responds.

"Nari." He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Nari. I'm Hongjoong."

"Nice to meet you Hongjoong." Her cheeks heat up.

He gives her another smile before moving on to check the other swings.

Nari feels her heart beating in her chest, but for an entirely different reason. She thinks this Hongjoong guy is cute. She hasn't thought that about a person in a very long time.

After Hongjoong has checked everyone's swings, he goes back over to the booth and flashes Nari a thumbs-up and a grin before hitting the button to start the ride. She feels her heart flutter, mostly because the ride is starting but also because Hongjoong looked directly at her and gave her the thumbs-up.

The ride starts and Nari grips the chains on the swing. It picks up speed and the wind whips at Nari's hair. She finds herself smiling, feeling like she's flying on this swing carousel.

She finds herself looking down at Hongjoong, who seems to be watching her from below, a big, childish grin on his face.

The ride slows to a stop and Nari finds herself breathless, wishing to go again. But everyone around her is getting out of their swings and running over to the exit, so Nari gets out and stands up.

She makes her way over to the exit, where Hongjoong is holding the gate open and gesturing for her to walk through.

"Thank you," she says. "It was really fun."

Hongjoong grins at her. "I'm glad. Would you like to go again?"

Nari shakes her head. "I don't have any tickets left. Thank you though."

Hongjoong takes her hand. Nari goes to pull away, but, feeling his touch against hers, relaxes into his hold.

"My shift is over soon," Hongjoong whispers. "You don't need tickets if you're with me. What do you say?"

Nari doesn't know what to say. Part of her is telling her to go buy popcorn or a soda and leave like she had planned on doing. But another part of her wants to stay with this man, with Hongjoong.

"Please?" He pleads with a smile. "I can tell you all about the park. I'm an expert."

Her face relaxes into a smile. She surprises herself when she speaks. "Okay."

Hongjoong takes his hand from hers. "I'll be off in five minutes. I can meet you at the lemonade stand."

Nari smiles. "That sounds great."

He gives her one last smile before going back to take tickets and let people onto the swing carousel.

Nari walks over to the bench, smiling and finding herself feeling excited for the first time in a very long time.

#ateez #ateez imagines #my fic #wattpad #atz #ao3 #horror #ateez horror #ateez horror au #horror au #ateez au #ateez short story #short story #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

[nietzchewasright]

[ Finnish philosophy at RPG Maker]

„...never has a religion, directly or indirectly, either as dogma or as allegory, contained a truth. For all religions grew out of dread or necessity, and came into existence through an error of the reason.“

— © «Human, all too human», Friedriech Nietzche.

As you know, The Radist — owner of ORT — has sunk deep into the Fear & Hunger community because of the rather specific and unusual experience from both games, and the second part, Termina, is replete with memorable characters, plot twists and a style that recalls a vicious mix of Shadows Over Innsmouth, Resident Evil IV and Pathologic. Overall, the head sawing simulator was a hit.

But at the same time, like any good work of art, «Fear & Hunger» also has some philosophical part, which seems that only people from Eastern and Northern Europe could carry through and reveal in themselves — and a little bit from each of these parts of the world is in Finland.

And this philosophy lies in the name of the game — Fear and Hunger. Or rather — in what does the name stand for: the actual God of Fear and Hunger, who within the universe of the game is born at the very bottom of the world, in the deepest pit where no man has set foot, and at the darkest time of humanity - in the Dark Ages, when humanity is slowly decaying from the whims of royal snobs who want to live in luxury, often making literal sacrifices in the name of it.

It would seem that what good can a deity with a name like that do? And... No, in the second part we suddenly find ourselves in an alternate-fictional 1940s, when mankind is really made some reasonable progress in engineering and technology.

And there it tells us that it was only thanks to this deity that humanity's progress took place, which stimulated it to grow and evolve according to the principle of natural selection — overpower and survive for fear of falling into existential terror or physical exhaustion and starvation. And if you are really afraid of something, you avoid it with all your might. In this F&H world, a certain deity, who, frankly, is in some ways a trivial personification of natural natural processes, prompted such a leap. As in reality, so are most of the deities described by mankind.

And it's true: in our New Dark Ages, things are pretty bad, if you think about it, but they're still bearable. The Radist usually calls it the in-between state: we don't seem to be starving, we have food, we can live and even satisfy the higher needs of Maslow's pyramid, but that is where the joys end; although, of course, one can get lost in video games or hobbies of some kind. But there is anxiety, as well as the realization that the world is going wrong, with a growing conflagration spreading throughout the world and touching us personally in one way or another.

And it is in these times that many ask the question: «Yes, it's possible to live, but is it necessary?»

And this can be seen in the suicide statistics among the residents of those CIS countries, for example, and gradually it is taking over more decent countries as well. And drug and alcohol use are also some kind of indicator — a well-to-do and contented person will not drown his thoughts in chemicals.

It is rather ironic that works with such themes and philosophical messages are becoming more and more popular nowadays. O tempora, o mores!

And toward the end.

Speaking of Gods, which abound in this fictional universe. The moral of the games is literally that man needs to be free from the influence of any deities; in Friedrich's books, one such deity is literally the state.

Something tells me that the next titanic philosophical work on stoicism and overcoming will be written in Finland.

#ort #ort_game #ort_philosophically #longread #maybe_schizo #fear & hunger #termina

[ahkaahshi]

how to earn their trust [scenarios]

pairings: miya atsumu; sakusa kiyoomi; akaashi keiji x fem reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): n/a

to earn miya atsumu’s trust, SHOW UP FOR HIM

Atsumu is an incredibly devoted guy who will never make you question his love for you. While he’s known by his brother and a few others close to him for being a liar and has a bad reputation for being selfish, he cares much more about people he’s close to than he lets on. He’ll never let you or his teammates down and, because of this, he needs a s/o who will be there for him, too.

When he asks you to come to his games, it often comes off in a facetious way, since he’s a total showboat and has an air of haughtiness to him. But, in actuality, he craves your support and seriously wants you there because volleyball means a lot to him, and so do you.

Just knowing that you’re there, watching him and cheering for him, gives him a sense of peace and calmness that’s important when he’s playing, since volleyball is such a fast-paced game that makes it nearly impossible for players to have a chance to slow down. Since he shows up for you, he wants you to do the same, which is completely fair.

If you have plans, he’s totally okay with it. You’re a busy student with a lot of stuff on your plate and a life of your own, so if you can’t come due to prior commitments, let him know and he’ll understand. Of course, he’ll tease and whine about it, but that’s just his way of being goofy with you because he knows he’ll be seriously missin’ you.

“Hey, ya comin’ to watch my game on Friday, (f/n)?” he asks, his honey-colored eyes full of hope.

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you answer, “I’m sorry, I’m tutoring all day after school and it’s really important for me to get some extra money, ‘Tsumu.”

Dejection flashes across his face, but he’s quick to hide his disappointment out of fear of upsetting you and out of his own pride. When he notices the creases of worry appear in your forehead from your furrowed brows, he’s quick to throw his arm around your shoulders and announce jokingly, “Ah, ditchin’ me again? I get it! If you don’t wanna spend time with me, jus’ say so ‘n I'll stop invitin’ ya to do fun things, like watch a kick-ass game of volleyball!”

Though he purposely made his comment loud enough for everyone in the gym to hear, his teammates didn’t bother with him, and, instead, continued putting all the equipment away. In spite of this, your face still burned with embarrassment at being teased, making you give Atsumu’s toned chest a light smack.

“I’m jus’ kiddin’! C’mere,” he reassures you, pulling you into a sweaty hug that you initially resist before placing your hands on the back of his soaked t-shirt and reciprocating his sign of affection. “Do whatcha gotta do, smartypants. I’ll see ya at next week’s game, though, right?”

“Of course.”

His grip around you tightens and he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You can feel him grinning against your skin as he says, “Great! Wear that warm-up sweater of mine you’ve been holdin’ onto, why don’tcha? Looks good on ya.”

However, if you constantly flake on him or keep making excuses not to hang out with him or go to his games, he’ll quickly become disillusioned with you. Your lack of interest that’s apparent to him in the way you always think up reasons not to support or spend time with him will break his heart. As a result, he’ll stop asking you altogether, and his lack of trust in you will surely put your relationship on the rocks. He’s busy but always wants to make time for you, so if you can’t do the same for him, he’s ending the relationship.

to earn sakusa kiyoomi’s trust, RESPECT HIS BOUNDARIES

As we’ve seen, Omi doesn’t like crowds or germs, and, thus, is very strict and serious about the boundaries he sets. Because of this, it is crucial for his s/o to respect his limits and be aware of them. For him, this not only shows that you’re patient, but it also shows that you care deeply about him, which, in turn, will foster a relationship of trust between the two of you.

If he says he’s uncomfortable with doing something or going somewhere, don’t push him; especially early on in your relationship. If he needs space, let him have his space. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. It’s important to know that even if he doesn’t let you into his bubble right away or turns down your signs of affection because he’s worried about germs, he still cares about you. He’s just a bit anxious.

To build his trust, you'll have to work in a gradual manner towards pushing his boundaries and showing him that it’s okay for him to step a bit outside of his comfort zone. If you’re more excitable, touchy, or clingy, you can still be yourself, but you will need to slow down a bit for him. He needs time and love to get comfortable, so patience and commitment to him are important.

He will fall for you so hard if you show him that you want him to feel safe. Examples of this may be wearing the face mask he bought for you when you’re out in public together, bringing extra hand sanitizer or disinfecting wipes on dates for the two of you to use, or changing your bedsheets before he comes over. If you accommodate him, he will 100% do the same for you to make you feel safe and secure.

After you open the front door of your house for him, Sakusa shuffles out of the coldness of the brisk evening air and slides off his shoes. When he looks down at his sneakers sitting amongst the rest of your family’s shoes, he realizes that there’s an extra pair of slippers sitting along with the rest that are considerably larger and differently colored.

“Oh, Kiyo!” you pipe up when you see his charcoal gaze fixate on them, “I got you some slippers of your own since you come over so often! Everyone knows they’re yours so they haven’t been used, or anything.”

Though you can’t see it because he’s still wearing his mask, his lips curl up into the smallest of smiles. When he slides it off, he presses a gentle kiss against your forehead as thanks for the house shoes he slides his feet into before making his way to the kitchen to wash his hands. Once he's finished, you lead him into your room so he can set down his duffel bag and the two of you can settle in for a Netflix marathon, as promised.

Upon entering your room, his olfactory senses are delighted by the clean scent of fresh laundry, which he soon realizes is wafting from your bed. The look of contentment on his face as he takes a deep inhale makes you smile.

“Since you’re staying over, I washed everything,” you announce, “And, also, you left your shirt here by accident yesterday, so I washed that too.” His eyes follow where your finger points to his warm-up shirt laid on the edge of the comforter, neatly folded by your careful hands.

Wordlessly, he makes his way over to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling your body flush against his. With his head hanging by the side of yours, he can smell the shampoo you used on your slightly damp, (h/c) hair. “Thank you,” he murmurs before moving his face down towards yours so he can give you an appreciative kiss.

When you release one another, he rifles through his duffel bag to retrieve a bag of your favorite sweets that he then plops into your hands.

“I stopped by the store on the way to get you some, since you wouldn’t stop complaining about badly you wanted them yesterday.” Turning his gaze to the laptop on your bed, he adds, “We can watch whatever you want.”

“Really?!” you bubble, eyes glowing with excitement, since he always put up a fight about your choice of movie or television show.

He furrows his dark eyebrows at you, making the two distinctive moles above one of them twitch. “Yes. Don’t make me regret this.”

He will not tolerate a s/o who chastises or berates his habits, since they’re ways he creates feelings of security and peace of mind for himself. If you insist on constantly pushing his boundaries, or forcing him to do anything before he’s ready, he’ll ultimately pull away from you. At the end of the day, if he thinks you don’t have much consideration for him and how he feels, he will end the relationship since mutual respect is important to him.

to earn akaashi keiji’s trust, BE YOURSELF AND BE HONEST

Akaashi is the king of delivering the truth, albeit bluntly--but knows how to exercise tact. Because of his commitment to being straightforward and unapologetically Akaashi so that everyone around him can also be themselves, he wants a s/o who will be real with him.

If he does something you don’t like, tell him! If you want to watch a different movie than the one he put on, tell him! If you don’t want Bokuto crashing your date with him for the ten millionth time, tell him. Even if you’re worried about upsetting him! He can handle the truth and will work to remedy the situation, but he won’t stand for lies and dishonesty. Also, if you’re not comfortable with talking about something, just let him know and he’ll be respectful of your wishes.

No matter what you think of yourself, just be you. While he’s attracted to looks, of course, he’s also a huge personality guy. Therefore, he really appreciates people who are just themselves and don’t try to change for the sake of others. I mean, look at how much he loves and trusts Bokuto, and what does that mf do? Be himself!

Akaashi wants to love you for who you are, so let him!

“Hey, Keiji?”

“Yeah?”

You bite your lower lip with hesitation as your (e/c) eyes travel up and down your form in the mirror resting against the wall in your bedroom. The dress you’re wearing is one your doting boyfriend diligently selected for you, but it just doesn’t quite suit you--in terms of both style and fit. “Uh...” you mumble shakily, trying to find a way to reject his gift without being harsh, “this dress is really nice...”

"I sense a but coming,” Akaashi responds, his voice muffled by the door separating the two of you.

You sigh, “But, it’s not really me and it doesn’t really fit that great. I'm sorry. I know you went out of your way to get this for me.”

After opening the door for him so he can inspect how his gift looks on you for himself, he purses his lips before they form a gentle smile. “It’s okay,” he assures you, taking one of your hands in his and meeting your gaze with his gunmetal blue one, “Thanks for being honest with me. I still have the receipt, so I can return it.”

Giving his hand a light squeeze, you reiterate, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head at you and plants a kiss against your temple, filling your body with warmth. “Don’t be. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not getting your style or size right even after being with you for, what, three months now?”

His comment makes you giggle, and he relishes in the delightful sounds echoing from your mouth. As he tucks a stray strand of your (h/l), (h/c) hair behind your ear, he offers, “How about you come with me to the mall when I return it so you can help me pick something you actually like?”

A smile graces your lips that makes his heart skip a beat. “Thank you, baby.”

Since he values honesty and authenticity so much, he’ll lose his trust in a s/o who is a habitual liar or who constantly tries to change to fit in. He gets seriously irked by people who are fake, so if he sees you take on an entirely different persona just to gain the favor of other people, or treat him differently based on who you’re around, he’ll be very turned off. And don’t even think about lying to him. Little, white lies he can work with, but keeping secrets from him and not being straightforward with him will break his heart. He’s very forgiving, and will wrack his brain for reasons as to why his s/o might be lying to him, but if he draws a blank or if you cheat on him, he’s done.

#fran writes hq!! #haikyuu!! #pls be nice to tsumu #he is such a sweet boy #can y'all tell I love sakusa lol #I just feel like omi is soft deep down inside okay #I simped whilst writing LMAO #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #akaashi keiji #miya atsumu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #akaashi x reader #cute #fluff #manga #anime #hq!! #x reader #reader insert

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Ner naak (My peace)

Pairing: Din Djarin x earthling!reader

Warnings: None

Summarize: Din Djarin meets you, an earthling, with no idea of the existence of an outer space.

Words count: 1617

A/n: Enjoy your reading!

Ner naak Masterlist // The Mandalorian Masterlist

Life sometimes manifested itself in strange ways. Even for Din. And he didn't expect to wake up with a tray of freshly prepared food at his disposal. You had even written him a note describing every single food on the plate. "French pastries are the basis of a successful breakfast" you wrote and if he had no idea what the "French" part meant, he heard his stomach growling at the simple sweet, slightly perfumed smell of the pastries. 

The day could only start well and Grogu was already enjoying swallowing little choux buns topped with sugar balls. Din chuckled at him gently before grabbing one and twirling it between his gloved fingers.

" Let me have some of it. "he said before sliding the food under his helmet into his mouth.

And he let a long, satisfied sigh escape. When was the last time he had eaten something so good? There was something special about earthly food, was it because it had been a long time since Din had been able to enjoy the flavours of a good meal? He could never get tired of it and he ate another one. He had to ask you what it was but he had just placed it as one of his favourites. 

And then he noticed something else on the little note you had left him. A little note that made him frown. What did you mean when you said, "P.s. Sorry, I had to. » ? A little shot of adrenaline reminded him that maybe he had let his guard down a little too quickly and a little too long. It was only then that he heard voices other than yours rising from the outside of the ship. 

He didn’t think twice, the ramp of the ship opened and he turned towards Grogu before leaving.

"Stay there and don't eat everything. "He said to Grogu, who had no intention of listening to him. 

Within a few steps Din found himself outside and suddenly found it hard to understand what was going on. 

A small group of young people around you were studying the plans you and Din had drawn. Some of them were impatient, others were so focused that they didn't hesitate to scold those who weren't being serious. 

Something was eluding him and he thought that his little stay on earth had made his brain weak. Since when did he let himself be so easily surprised? And to tell the truth, at that very moment you were surprising him too. 

You didn't notice Mando right away. He wasn't doing much to be noticed either, he was confused enough to ask for the attention of five unknown people. But you didn't have a choice. 

The night had not been very restful. The conversation you had the night before with Mando had gone round and round in your head and between the sprawling galactic monsters landing on Earth and the army coming in tanks, your mind had other things to do than rest. And those disturbing dreams hadn't helped your anxiety, so you decided you needed to pick up the pace. But speeding up without a work crew was a tricky thing to do. 

Life had a really strange way of showing itself sometimes and until now, you probably never thought to ask for help to repair this ship. Help other than what Mando was already giving you. You had been far too aware of the danger it could represent, for you, for Mando, for Grogu... but what was better? Revealing his presence to students in whom you trusted partially? Or to be discovered by the police? 

It wasn't a good idea, you knew that. And you hadn't taken the time to discuss it with Mando either. It was more of a decision taken on a whim and you would surely regret it later, but today, thanks to the students you had carefully selected, the repairs were going to be a good step forward. And the sooner the ship would be able to fly, the sooner Mando and Grogu would be safe, away from Earth.

In other words, you were reassuring yourself as best you could. 

You didn't know if those dreams had been the trigger or if the lack of sleep had caused some neurons to break down, but in the early morning you woke up with an awful realization: it was much bigger than you. And no matter how full-grown you were, no matter how thoughtful and composed you were, this morning it was all too much. And sharing this secret with almost grown-up people was probably the only way to relieve the pressure you had put on yourself. 

So there you were, explaining as best you could to five of your students the tasks they were going to be assigned to repair the ship. But that wasn't the most complicated part. You had to deal with your students' reaction to the ship and nothing in your studies to become a teacher prepared you for that.

"Well, can we focus for five minutes? "You asked them as one student had been trying for a solid two minutes to calm down his friend who still couldn't believe his eyes. 

"Ma'am, can you believe it?! "He exclaimed, "A real one! »

"Get over it, it's not as cool as Star Trek's USS Entreprise NCC-1701-E. "His friend who never seemed very impressed with the Razor Crest commented. 

"I wish you knew my courses as accurately as that." you smiled slightly. "Good, you'll start by gathering all the material listed in here," and you gave them each a piece of paper. " you get to work and... be respectful. " You glance at them briefly before finishing. " Croissants and chouquettes as much as you like in the car." 

And you knew that their motivation had just been boosted to the max. You got up and only then you spotted Mando near the ship. And his whole body was more tense than a tree trunk. And the trickiest part of your hasty decision had just begun: persuading Mando that your potentially bad idea wasn't such a bad idea. 

Your students didn't seem to have noticed him yet, they were far too busy eating pastries and it seemed that a croissant was more important than a spaceship piloted by the Galactic Daft Punk cousin. Ah those students!

It was just that a little anxiety was making your stomach heavier. From what you could see Mando didn't seem the most delighted to have a bunch of young people he didn't know around his Razor Crest but hopefully he would understand. 

"It wasn't planned." He said, his voice muffled by the helmet. 

"I know. And as much as I would have loved to have the Crest all to myself, sometimes you have to be realistic." You said, and you were looking forward to his reaction. 

"You're not realistic. You're worried. That' s not the same thing. "

And for the first time, you observed Mando withdraw into himself. He wasn't very talkative already, but it seemed to you that you had managed to win his sympathy.  You had seen him trust you gradually and you feared you had taken ten steps backwards, whereas you had only taken two in the same direction.

And then you felt a pinch of irritation tickle your nerves. His words had not been well received and it would have been hard for Mando to miss the annoyance expressed by the hardened features of your face. Your posture had changed too. Your arms, which were usually open, had just crossed over your chest, your usually relaxed and loose shoulders were now tensed and stiff, and even your chest, which was usually light and sometimes delicate, now looked much stronger. You showed a disconcerting self-confidence and Din made the pleasant discovery that you were not the type to let yourself be stepped on.

But this was not the time to dwell on your new confidence.

"Indeed, I am worried for you and I think that the situation has been sufficiently addressed for you to understand that I will never be able to get you out of this rotten planet to the bone without any help. "And the features of your face softened again. "Look, yes, that wasn't planned, and I'm not asking you to trust them, but for your, "you paused before correcting" if you want to leave Earth in one piece, we must work faster." 

Mando sighed heavily. You saw him lower his head slightly, as if he was thinking about the pros and cons. He was nervous. You could see that and you suspected a rather complicated past in relation to other people, perhaps one or two betrayals, and he was thinking over and over again until he nodded silently. 

"You know this world better than I do. I trust you, but I won't go easy on them. "He granted and he saw you relax completely, the hint of annoyance had completely disappeared and he recognized you in your kindness.

"Don't worry, they are students, there is nothing more resilient. "You gave him a little smile before gently placing your hand on his forearm in a friendly gesture. "They won't bother you, I'll make sure of that." 

Mando nodded again and before you could go back to repair the ship, he couldn't help but stop you for a moment, holding your arm.

"What's the name of the, huh, ‘French’ pastries you brought me?" he asked. 

" They're called 'chouquettes', why that?" 

"Do you have some more of them? Grogu... Grogu seems to like it." He justified himself. 

But you couldn’t be fooled. Grogu was certainly not the only one who liked them.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x earthling #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mando #mando x reader #ner naak series #star wars

[therianimal]

My System’s Experiences: switching hosts and a disconnected past

It took years before we realized that the complete personality shifts we experienced at various points in our life was us switching between hosts. Before I was host (or even existed at all), there was Lucas; a few years before him, Eren. The earliest host we know of is 4 years old and was the host during our preschool years. It seems inconceivable that we wouldn’t know - but as a system that has no amnesia, experiences the world as “different people sharing a single consciousness”, experiences switching less like “stepping back” and more like changing perspectives, and exists in a place between median and multiple, these changes disguised themselves as life phases.

It made sense to us that being 16 would feel different than being 12, and we were aware that changing over time was a normal experience for children and teenagers. Sure, it seemed weird that as a child we were definitely a girl, during our early teen years we were likely nonbinary and during our late teen years we were a trans man - it was never really clear to us WHY we changed so much.

That is, until I realized that we were plural, and that we have always been different people who simply passed the mantle of Host along like some kind of hereditary monarchy. It seems somewhat obvious now - the fact that I used to say things like “back when I was Lucas”, that I didn’t have childhood memories of being a therian, and that each “life phase” involved a completely different personality, set of interests, and sense of self were all signs. Even my dad is prone to saying things like “You’re a completely different person now than you were when you were 16″ (I really get a kick out of the double meaning). But it wasn’t until I started to consider that I (we!) might be plural that the truth about our past hosts came out into the open.

Our obliviousness can be accounted for by another issue: the specifics of how we switched hosts. I like to compare the scenario to mitosis - one member gradually becoming two. It would take months before the two people were distinct, at which time the new member would usurp as the new host and the previous one would go into dormancy. Because it’s so gradual we can't pinpoint an exact moment when each switch happened, and it's sometimes hard to clarify whether a past event happened to one member or another.

I’ve started to refer to the mid-mitosis host as “proto”, thqe in between of Lucas and me being “proto-Blue”. Lucas was a trans man and emo, and I’m a mascfem nonbinary person who isn’t particularly alt - our mid-self was still trans but more gender nonconforming and no longer 100% male, and they still listened to emo and rock music but had moved away from the clothing style. This "self" doesn't exist in our system as an actual person - it was simply an in-between stage. This host change (and all the others as far as we can tell) was fluid and not at all a sudden switch.

When Lucas returned from dormancy, it was chaos. He had been functionally asleep for three years - in the meantime, I had broken up on bad terms with his best friend/girlfriend, socially detransitioned (he had worked hard to come out as a trans man), and thrown away most of his old clothing and possessions. Trump had even become president, which was honestly one of the most overwhelming things. And he suddenly had to confront the fact that we were plural, that he had not always been host, and most of all that he had lost several years of (what he thought was) his life. I had to confront similar issues, but for me it was gradual while for him it was all at once.

Since then, several of our past hosts have reawakened - but not all. There are large unaccounted for periods of time, presumably involving still-dormant system members. It’s difficult to talk about our/”my” past, because when referring to things that occurred between the ages of 15 and 17 I can usually say “Lucas did X”, but how do I refer to the incidences that happened to unknown hosts? On top of that, due to years of assuming we were one person and each of us claiming past events as “my past”, it’s not that easy to say that X event belongs to one person and Y belongs to another. Things that happened to Eren while she was host often feel just as relevant to me, personally, as things that happened while I was host.

This all creates a confusing communication barrier, and risks creating conflicts between members - for example if I say “I got a perfect score on the reading portion of the SAT when I was 12!” would that be unfairly taking credit for Eren’s accomplishments, or simply describing an element of our shared narrative that feels relevant to me? There has been at least one conflict with another member where I was accused of selectively taking credit for their good deeds and accomplishments while disowning failures and negative actions - I believe that was a misunderstanding, but clearly it’s complicated.

I, as an individual, have only existed for four years. It sounds strange to say that as a 22 year old, but it’s true. This sometimes makes it alienating to spend time in identity-based communities like the therian, otherkin, transgender, and other LGBTQ communities. I once attempted to join a trans Amino, only to find that I was required to explain my “trans self discovery story” in an introduction post - it wasn’t even optional! How do I explain “In our teenage years, Eren felt disconnected from gender but couldn’t put it into words. Then we learned about trans people, and Lucas discovered over the course of a few months that he was a trans man. I knew I was nonbinary from day one (four years ago), though figuring out the details has taken a few years.” To someone who knows nothing about plurality, it’s incomprehensible.

Of course I could have made something up or oversimplified things, but at the time I was on Amino to discover my truth, not hide my truth. Due to the “born this way” narrative, saying something like “I identified as a trans man in my teen years, but later on identified as nonbinary” would imply that our experiences as a trans man were fake or the result of a confused misnomer, when they were very real. Directly undermining our experiences and our reality for the sake of community really sucks; I quickly left that Amino.

I’ve had similar issues in the therian community. I first realized I was a therian/nonhuman before realizing I was a member of a plural system, which caused all sorts of confusion for me. I joined the Therian Guide forums and learned from their posts and resources that “If you didn’t have therianthropy related experiences as a child, that means you’re just a confused human who’s been influenced by the internet and is having a wishkin phase." I wanted to believe that wasn’t the case, but the argument made sense and I had no counterargument to make against it and no way to explain why that rule wouldn’t apply to me.

Even now it sometimes feels alienating to encounter online threads and posts centered around the question “What signs did you experience as a child?”. I know that other people’s experience don’t invalidate mine, and vice versa, but it still sometimes makes me feel out of place. Rationally I understand that nonhuman experiences are highly varied and that's okay! - but insecurity isn't rational. I’m still acclimating to the idea that as a pluran my nonhuman experiences will probably never be the same as a “stereotypical” otherkin or therian (if such a thing exists).

I went into this essay expecting to write a short post about how my lack of childhood/teen years has sometimes caused me to feel alienated in the therian community. But as I was writing I realized I had a lot to say about my system, and felt compelled to change angles and truly discuss our host history. It might be a bit random, but I hope that at least some people will find it interesting.

#plurality #SYSMEDS AND ANTI ENDO DNI #alterhuman #alterhumanity #therian #otherkind #blue speaks

[bvccy]

Tenderness and Ferocity | 4. The Third Night

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: light Smut Word count: 1984 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"This is a love that equals in its power the love of man for woman and reaches inwards as deeply. It is the love of a man or of a woman for their world. For the world of their centre where their lives burn genuinely and with a free flame." — Mervyn Peake

 "See you tomorrow, Eeli!"

"Bye!"

"Night, Benji!"

"Good night!"

"Bye, Suzi!"

"Have a good night!"

She said her goodbyes to the evening staff, the duty officer, the cleaning lady, and made her way down the white corridor that led to the bus, which took all the day staff to their living quarters. She tried not to hurry too much, not to hold her purse too close, nor to smile too widely. She breathed a sigh of relief once she took her seat, her head leaning to cool against the window.

Although it was only evening, in the late winter it already looked like the dead of night, blackness stretching out forever starting fifteen feet from wherever you stood. The sparse trees looked like cardboard cut-outs under the stark nightlights, lifeless against a starless sky. There was a tranquillity in the effect: a feeling that, in a world where everything was fake, you too could be whatever you wanted.

The bus bumped along as usual, carrying its quiet cargo, but until she was off it she couldn't shake the nagging shame that was burning a hole in her purse. She surreptitiously squeezed it down, letting herself lean heavily against it while she looked out the window and tried not to think about getting shot.

The apartment complex was easily within driving distance but completely out of view of the Headquarters, even with the flat emptiness that lay between. It was built especially for the civilian workers, and named the Administrative, Medical, Economical, Research and Innovation Cadres Apartments. Or, as Hydra referred to it with great amusement, A.M.E.R.I.C.A..

Its outside inherited the bleakness that came with rushed work, cheap materials, and failed modernist concepts, but the inside had been renovated over the years into something that was at worst ergonomic, and at best managed to be cosy. It almost felt like home, and for a lot of the staff it had to be.

The ride squeaked to a halt, jolting its passengers awake. They waddled out in orderly fashion, saying their thank-yous to the driver, and their good-nights to each other as gradually they each went to their wing.

A few token trees, grown very tall over the decades, were spread around the park before the main entrance, their barren branches lit pale gold by the lamplights. The round fountain at the centre was finally unfrozen for the first time in months, its water sitting in a motionless reflection of the sable sky.

The night guardsman watched everyone amble in, nodding and smiling to whoever spared him a glance as he cradled a chipped mug of coffee in his chubby hands. She mouthed a "Hello" to him and kept on walking, her eyes going back down in what she knew was her usual 'tired' look and nobody spoke to her when they grouped up in the elevator, or when they spread out in their own directions, and then finally she was safely inside her little apartment — locked up and double-bolted.

She placed her purse very carefully on the hallway table. Put her coat up, tucked her shoes away, turned on the lights, turned on the heating, and went through the usual ritual of taking everything off and stuffing it in the laundry bin before taking a shower.

Dinner was, as usual, replaced by a cup of tea and biscuits in bed while her hair slowly dried, wrapped up in a thin old towel. She sipped her tea while scrolling through feeds of news articles, celebrity scandals, the occasional cat video, not really paying attention to anything. As soon as she could justify it to herself, she rolled out of bed and took her cup and plate to the kitchen. She brushed her teeth in a rush, brushed out her tangled hair, then finally approached the purse that was sitting innocuously in waiting.

It was stuffed full of notebooks, emergency cosmetics, obsolete post-its and little lozenge tins, so she had to dig a little until she found the one booklet where, as if by accident, a crisp white page had slipped in. There was hardly any way for someone to detect it, of course — "analog technology" is the safest way to smuggle information — but it didn't stop her from trembling all the way home.

She unfolded it, and smiled tenderly at the sight of the precisely drawn clock face. With the tip of a finger, she could just about feel the indent where the pen first went into the page, a phantom of the energy that passed through his arm for just one moment.

She put all her things away, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed with it. The lamp shining outside was enough for her to make out the page as it rested by her pillow. She had taken it without any particular idea of what to do with it, but she just knew she had to have it, had to have something from him.

The logical side knew that this was a normal emotional reaction for a woman, stuck somewhere without a palatable selection of men, however numerous. Her body recognised, before her head, that the Soldier would be quite a catch even if they weren't stuck in the middle of an industrialised nowhere, and in short order had reached the conclusions that he was: pretty nice, tempting, wasted on Hydra, stupidly beautiful, distractingly virile, before finally settling on him being utterly desirable.

Her head was still stuck at "wasted on Hydra".

But it would get there eventually. The more of him she brought out, the easier it was for her to see him as a person — and people can be admired, liked, and even wanted. For now, she would make do with this schoolyard token and allow herself to enjoy whatever she wanted in her mind.

She already couldn't remember what he felt like under her fingers, how exactly his voice sounded, even his face became blurred the longer she was away from him, but she could easily summon back the memory of what it felt like to be around him.

He was so pliant, especially that first day all strapped up and helpless. It was a heady combination — a dangerous killer rendered harmless. She liked dominance in the opposite sex, but there was just something about a big strong man being subdued like that while she had full control — made even more exciting, paradoxically, by his lack of interest in her.

She noticed him stare quite shamelessly, but blankly; that was just his programming assessing a threat, like all the other soldiers in the program... that's all it had to be. The Director's crass joke at her expense didn't make it any better, as if he wanted to remind her specifically that the Soldier didn't, and couldn't, find her nor any woman desirable.

Still, she could have done anything she wanted with him. The following days when he was free, he still obeyed her every word (mostly). But he also started speaking a little out of turn and telling tepid jokes; the progress, on a professional level, was considerable. When she had him eating out of her hand, it dawned on her how dangerously close she was to taking advantage of him — dangerous, of course, only if she got caught.

Fortunately she’d had the sense to ask for no surveillance, and had nurtured a reputation of being professional to a fault, unmoved by the raw masculinity of the Winter Soldier recruits that her other colleagues openly gushed over, and generally impervious to male charm — mainly to make it easier to turn down flirtations from the desperate men stuck there. "Don't bother with her. I already tried. You don't stand a chance."

She understood their loneliness, even sympathised with them, but she couldn't take the chance of opening herself to someone only to be used up, as it happened to so many others stuck there; especially not when none of them made her feel anything. Her Soldier though, he made her feel something...

He was more than just another big, dangerous man. In their efforts, Hydra had made him into an ideal. Unfortunately, they also misunderstood the nature of what they made. They thought they were creating a weapon — they did — but Hydra treated the masculinity inherent in her Soldier as just an excuse for brutality, deprecating what he really was and could be. Masculinity was about control and power — to be unleashed when necessary and otherwise reined in, a pack of wild dogs left unfed by their master and held back, held back, held back, to be all the more vicious when finally released.

By misusing her Soldier, they misused that which they channelled through him; the source of that ideal inherent to all men but which favoured so few; which expressed itself through tenderness, and ferocity.

Hydra unwittingly created a weakness, a crack for her to crawl into and bring out that which lay, waiting, underneath the mind. They had no patience for these abstractions, no way to deal with them, and so instead they brought him down and kept him there, ready to use when the brutality was needed.

She closed her eyes and tried to bring back the frissons she felt at the sound of his voice, rough and hanging heavy but so velvety sweet still, the shape of his body silhouetted in the shadows, his artist's-fingers resting obediently on the table, and that surprising mix of chocolate brown hair and grey eyes...

Maybe next time she could have him write something, she could analyse his handwriting; he should definitely still know how... Would he write in cursive or print? Would his letters be thin and sharp, or sensuously curved? Would they be large and take up a lot of space, or small and unassuming like he seemed to be sometimes...

She buried her nose in the pillow, feeling only her own perfume — would he like it? what would it smell like after he spent the night? — and wrapped a leg around the bulky duvet that wasn't nearly big enough to pretend...

Her fingers touched the page again as she squeezed her legs together, her other hand caressing her neck in lighter and lighter touches until she could almost imagine it being his breath, fanning over her skin from above.

She let go of the paper and turned on her back, shivering and sighing, and slipped her hand underneath, down the centre of her chest, stopping just at her lower stomach and pressed down — the way she thought he would if he caught her, if he wanted to hold her still. She bit her lip and teased her throat, content now that her imagination found what it wanted.

Maybe, he wouldn't catch her... Maybe he would break free and come to her, find her in bed, hold her against him, try to seduce her into running away with him. To make it more fun, she'd struggle. She allowed herself a half-bitten moan as she instinctively throbbed at the idea, and pressed harder, canting her hips more and more to an imaginary rhythm that he set.

The thought of his heavy shape pressing her down, his penetrating eyes above her, his uncertain smile, hopeful, desirous, and just that singular pressure... the feeling of being wanted, of being held, in the place where she most wanted him — not even between her legs, but deep, deep in her womb — was more dizzying than any sticky thing she had ever done on her own because she actually wanted him.

She let her imagination exhaust itself while in parallel her mind searched for ways he could break out, of how they could escape together — the mad dream of running away.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky x OFC #Bucky Barnes x OFC #Winter Soldier fanfiction #Winter Soldier x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #The Winter Soldier #Winter Soldier #Tenderness and Ferocity #bv;fanfiction

[hopetofantasy]

Actress Nora Dari (wtFOCK): “I hope I don't go crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if that happens”

Two years ago she was allowed to bump into Matteo Simoni in ‘Patser’, now your fifteen-year-old knows her as Yasmina from ‘wtFOCK’ and she ended up in Cannes because of the new film by Bas Devos. Where it ends for Nora Dari remains to be seen, but you don't want to get in her way. “You’ve been looking so long for a Moroccan girl who wants to act and then you get me.”

“So I always try to be a bit low key...” She hesitates. "Eumh, do you know what 'low key' means?" "How much of antique do you think I am exactly?" “Gosh. You have a flip cover for your smartphone, I saw.” “Point for Dari. But what are you trying to be a bit low key...” “Huh? Sorry, I have no idea anymore. I was completely distracted by that pigeon over there.” It’s easy to forget - especially when she starts talking in her Genk dialect about her sky-high ambitions or her tough childhood in Winterslag - that Nora Dari is barely seventeen. After all, she’s already accumulated a nice record of achievements in two years. From the Belgian-Finnish crime series ‘Bullets’ (shown on Telenet) and a leading role in ‘wtFOCK’, the online series of SBS and Telenet, to her supporting role in ‘Ghost Tropic’, the most recent full-length movie by Bas Devos, who made the selection of Quinzaine des Réalisateurs in Cannes in May. The day after our conversation at an Antwerp terrace, she  leaves for London, for a fourth and final audition for a lead role in an international film project. “It looks good, but I can't tell you anything about it yet. That’s a tough assignment for me: my whole body really wants to scream. Seriously, I'm pretty much the Moroccan Tom Holland (Spider-Man, and the spoiler king of Marvel's Cinematic Universe). But I'll remain silent!”

How does a large, international production house ends up at your door? Nora Dari: “I started knocking on their door. I'm really not going to sit around and wait for someone to discover me miraculously, so if someone gives me a tip about an interesting movie, I'll go after it myself. I always want more and everything I set my mind to, seems to be working. An international series, ‘wtFOCK’, Cannes with my first film role and now this latest project is also within reach. Can you blame me for believing? In my head, I'm already in Hollywood. First become a Shooting Star at the Berlinale.” Just in between everything? Dari: “You can dream, right? Acknowledgement is not for me - I don't even know who decide such things - but rather, it’s a means to an end. If you end up in the same list of acting prodigies (those Shooting Stars) as Marwan Kenzari, Matteo Simoni and Matthias Schoenaerts, every director knows who you are.” You can also quietly build an acting career in Belgium. Or is that really not an option? Dari: “Why should I linger on a few square meters? My world was so small in Winterslag and now that it’s gradually getting bigger, I really don't know why I should stop at Flanders. Even if ambition is a very dirty word where I come from.”

How? Dari: “Winterslag is a neighborhood where many young people are going into the wrong direction. Big dreams are taboo, apparently. I was bullied, mainly because I wanted to start something with my life. Even if I said that I would one day want to go to New York, I would be laughed at: “Just sit down, Nora! Who do you think you are?”

Keep your head down, keep your nose clean and make sure that you can start working at the age of eighteen: something like that? Dari: *nods* “Graduating and going to work at the age of eighteen seems like quite an achievement in Winterslag. If you hadn't gotten into the wrong shit by then, you would’ve done well. At my school, we had two pupils without an immigration background and otherwise exclusively Turks, Moroccans and Italians from families who were really poor. Our parents worked very hard, you spend a lot of time on the street and bad things sometimes happened. *thinks* There’s a reason why I almost exclusively watch gangstershit movies. I come from a neighborhood where a lot of gangstershit happens. I’ve seen and experienced so many bad things, but at the same time Winterslag is such a big part of who I am and I get very angry when someone else talks about it like I do now. *small laugh* 

I’ll buy a house there one day. It’s still my home, all the beautiful things and all the rotten things in one pile. To be clear: I don't want to romanticize my childhood. Winterslag is hard, but nothing to be sad about. There are so many people who have gone through the same thing. Only, it sucks to be called a whore, because you want to do something that is apparently 'not normal'.”

It dawns on me why you once said that Algerian-Canadian Zaho's song Kif'n'dir summed you up quite nicely. Especially the text 'Je fais la morte pour ne pas mourir'. Dari: “That's what I've been doing for a long time. Keeping myself deathly still and don’t stand out too much. In the long run, you also start to believe what others are telling you, that acting is not for you.”

When did you finally stopping ‘being death’? Dari: “When I was fifteen, when I heard that Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah were looking for extras for ‘Patser’. That didn't mean much more than just bumping into Matteo Simoni, but I was sold immediately. In between shots, I approached Adil: “Mr. El Arbi, thank you for opening my eyes. From now on, I’ll go all out for this.” *laughs* We clicked and in the meantime we’ve become friends. I hope he thinks of me when they start recording ‘Patsers’, so that I can show how much I've grown in those two years.”

Not much later, through their casting agency Hakuna, you ended up as a suicide bomber in the Finnish-Belgian Crime series ‘Bullets’. What have I missed? How did you go from a sixteen-year-old extra to such an intense role in a few months? Dari: “I think - if I may say that - they were shocked after my casting. I’ve never thrown myself into a project as hard in my life. Whining. Shouting. Tantrums. All fucking emotions, one after the other. You’ve been looking so long for a Moroccan girl who wants to act and then you get me. *laughs* I've never loved anything as much as acting, so I’m giving everything during a casting. I know that I’m not the best and still have to learn, but I suspect my energy is making up for it. That, and I consider myself a very pleasant colleague. *laughs* I greet everyone in a Genk dialect, always walk around smiling and even bring cookies.

I've always had the feeling that I have to work harder than the rest, because people expect less of me. That's what my father taught my brothers and me. At the Liège boarding school where he studied, he was the only Moroccan in Latin studies: his classmates thought he was weird, because of his origins and the other Moroccans looked at him weirdly, because he aimed higher. "Ah, Mr. pope is back there." In the end it became so unbearable that he enrolled in the TSO (technical school), which was socially accepted.”

How does a 16-year-old feel like a suicide bomber? Dari: “They gave me a background, but I added a few things myself to make it easier. And music helps me really hard too: ‘Qui suis-je’ from Scylla on repeat and then a little method acting in that character. My mother was there on set and apparently got terrified. *laughs* I asked them not to accompany me anymore. When I see them, I come back to myself, while I try very hard to forget myself in front of the camera. I need to be able to get into a role on set. Although it remains very strange to hype yourself up for hours with the mantra 'I'm dying and I'm taking all these people with me'. Fortunately, I can also easily let go. I had to, I had exams the next day. *laughs* Suicide bomber by day, studying economy by night.”

In May you hopped around on the Croisette for the world premiere of ‘Ghost Tropic’. You play the daughter of Khadija, a woman who walks home through Brussels after falling asleep on the metro. Devos makes quiet, poetic arthouse films: it’s a huge leap from teenage series and thrillers. Dari: “It was an adjustment, yes. Before I played in ‘Bullets’, I had never even seen a Flemish film. Not a single one. Or wait: one at school. What was it called? I have to give a speech soon, with its protagonist.”

‘Daens’? With Jan Decleir? Dari: “That one! Everything I had already learned about acting was from Hollywood movies. That enlarged playing style also worked in ‘Bullets’, but when I tried that in ‘Ghost Tropic’, Bas blocked it very quickly. *laughs* "The less you do the better, Nora!" I thought about it all too hard. "Nora, just go." “Yes, but Bas, who am I? What have I been through up to this point?” I have a hard time playing without a backstory in my head.”

Did you learn something from Devos? Dari: “Bas and Maaike Neuville told me in Cannes that I shouldn’t forget to live. I was only busy with what should be my next big step, but I also have to learn to enjoy. Surrendering is nothing dirty, but if I put everything aside for this job, I’ll never be able to put content in my characters. Then they’ll give me a heavy role and I’ll get stuck.”

Sensible advice. Alarm bells already went off when I read in ‘Het Belang van Limburg’ that you certainly wanted to remain celibate until you were 27 and wouldn’t continue your studies, just focussing on your career. Dari: “In the end, I’ll study cross-media management and I’ve come back to that other one as well. *laughs* What?! I’m seventeen, I change my mind completely every month. When I am 40, I don't just want to have a nice IMDb profile to look back on.”

'9000 followers? That is more people than have seen my last film', Devos thought humbly in your Instagram Stories. Dari: “I hope ‘Ghost Tropic’ gets more visitors than I have followers, but I'm not going to bitch if only fifty people come to watch the film in the end. I just like to act and have hardly seen anything from ‘Bullets’ or ‘wtFOCK’ myself. When I'm not on set, I just feel bad. As if I'm not getting the most out of my life. 

At the very least, ‘Ghost Tropic’ gave me another experience and I was able to take my father with me, when we went to the Dominican Republic. My grandfather had passed away just before the shoot and we kind of processed that together there, while we were watching the sunrise at five in the morning. A very tender moment. Very cinematic, too. *thinks* I’m a very passionate person. Everything I experience is immediately very big. It’s all hard, good or bad. So hard that I can't always process all the feelings. *dryly* I hope I don't go crazy. I really wouldn't be surprised if that happens.”

You seem to be especially prone to obsessions. Whether it’s making music, painting or acting: if you decide to do something, everything has to make way for it. Dari: “When I got a keyboard, I was immediately very invested in my music. Making beats to accompany my slam poetry, tinkering at night, searching and keeping my parents awake until they went crazy. And then I suddenly got tired of it and started painting. Swimming. Dancing. I also played soccer for a while, mainly to get my dad's attention. During the 'consultation hour' around the tajine I could never have a chat with my brothers and father, because it was only about football and anime.”

Anime? Dari: “The men in my family are all next-level anime fans. They even speak Japanese to each other. *thinks* And I also plunged into my religion for a while, in between football and slam poetry.”

How? Dari: “When the community center closed its doors around the age of 13 and I saw a whole circle of friends go away in one go, I started clinging to something else. So, faith. At that time I also wore a hijab, because I was convinced that you could only be such a good Muslim. I was really pretty strict and took everything way too literally. Today I understand that you mainly have to look for your own interpretation.”

In the meantime, the average 15-year-old is also going through a storm for the second season of wtFOCK, which can be followed daily on Instagram and wtfock.be, good for about 400,000 visitors a week and more than 8 million watched - or at least started - episodes. Significantly more than the first season, although that also had good numbers. Especially for a series that was deliberately launched in silence. “You’re already bombarded with advertising on Instagram, subtle and less subtle,” says Dari, while she tries so intensely to make eye contact with a waiter that he almost bumps into a glass door. “I don't have any big theories about the future of television, but ‘wtFOCK’ really was a relief. It’s on the internet and you mainly do what you want with it. "Ah, I don't have to look?" That unforced approach works. The worst thing that could have happened to us, was that the press started writing about it en masse: it had to remain a bit mysterious and above all belong to the young people themselves. Normally we don't give interviews either: ‘wtFOCK’ is one big bubble that you shouldn't talk too much about.”

Without any illusions about the appeal of Knack Focus to fifteen-year-olds: is this conversation a good idea? Dari: “Sounds okay to me. I’m more now than just Yasmina? And I think fifteen-year-olds do know Knack.” 

For real? Dari: “That's the book we get in History as source material in class. *laughs* I think I'll stop giving interviews again after this. A little mystery can't hurt.”

SKAM, the Norwegian series of which ‘wtFOCK’ is a remake, became a hit in its own country. That’s not always the case with foreign remakes, except for the Flemish one. It continues to gain popularity. Do you have an explanation for that? Dari: “No idea why things were less successful in other countries, but ‘wtFOCK’ is so good because it is real. We don't disguise anything, don't pour Hollywood sauce on it and talk like I talk to my friends. Apparently, a lot of teachers also follow the series to get a better understanding of their students. Smart, because we tackle all issues a teenager has in a very realistic way.”

The makers of SKAM were prepared with a tour through its country and a survey of Norwegian teenagers. Their biggest conclusion was: no generation suffers as much from performance pressure and comparison anxiety as yours. Dari: “Social media. Instagram is a very beautiful, but at the same time very scary place. A lot of girls now ask me, for example, how they can also enter this profession. But if you ask them why, it turns out that there’s no passion, they just see it as a fast road to fame. Then join ‘Temptation Island’? They see  people like Millie Bobby Brown (from Stranger Things), who is barely fifteen and has a crazy career and they let themselves be hyped about it. I should actually say 'we'. I said it already: I ​​hope I don't go crazy.” *giggles hysterically* 

About 1200 teenagers showed up for the casting of wtFOCK, but the makers did not find their Yasmina there. Dari: *nods* “In the end they also had to call Adil, who gave me the tip.”

Why do you think that is? Dari: “I get angry when someone says they want more diversity, but can't find anyone. *throws arms up dramatically* "They aren't there!" They are there. In my neighborhood alone, so much talent is packed together. You may have to do your best to find them, because if you come from a neighborhood where ambition is laughed at, you’ll not find your way to a casting. Because the TV and film world seem so closed off from the outside - and it is. I also didn't know how to do that, I was just lucky that Adil, Nora Gharib and Ikram Aoulad wanted to help me. They helped me avoid a lot of rookie mistakes. And that I won't sign myself up for Temptation Island or something tomorrow.” *laughs*

Gharib also predicted that as a Moroccan woman she would have problems with ‘Patser’. From the moment you do not portray a classic religious Muslim woman, it seems to already lead to commentary. Dari: “I've had my part too. Women who send to me that I brought shame on the entire Moroccan community, for example, because Yasmina doesn't always wear her hijab. Usually these are women who’ve seen two minutes of the series and then get angry without seeing the context. *blows* You know, I don’t care. If my parents and I are okay with it, then no one has anything to say to me. Criticism slips away from me. It really takes more than an angry DM to get me off my path, I come from Winterslag breeding.”

*** Bas Devos, director ‘Ghost Tropic’:

“I had never seen Nora at work, but her audition video immediately made me curious. At the final casting, where she had to improvise a bit, it was already clear to me after a few minutes. She did a beautiful job. Nora is not trained as an actress, but I often work with a combination of non-professional and professional actors. That really doesn't matter to me. It's all about how naturally someone relates to the camera and how relaxed you are while being filmed. Then very beautiful things can happen. And I think she also liked not having to make her character bigger in an understated film like ‘Ghost Tropic’, as that’s sometimes the case for TV. To hear that you are still playing without doing anything. 

It's cool how she dares to go for something so outspokenly at such a young age, but I did point out to her that working alone isn’t the perfect solution. She’s very fond of that international career, but it is also easy to walk into a wall there. Seventeen-year-olds have to live, right? Well, she's sensible enough, I'm not worried. She'll eventually find the right balance. At the end of the shooting period, she said she hoped we could work together again. I told her that I hope she still likes it by then. *laughs*  Who knows which films will she be in then.”

#wtfock #wtfam #older article

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Fireworks Event - Shaw

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This contains important references to Shaw’s Summer Night Date and his Aftertaste ASMR!

Previous section: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here 

Prior to the Carnival, there were questions posed in the Go See You feature which affects which scenario the player sees during the Fireworks Event:

Question 1: If you had to pick, which amusement park attraction do you like the most?

Option A: Something more exhilarating - the Super Splash.

Option B: Attractions like the 4D theatre would be very interesting!

Option C: If it’s with you, the small mine wagons!

-

Question 2: “A perfect day”? Tell me about it.

Option A: You listening to me for the entire day.

Option B: Receiving the present I want most.

--

[ Prologue ]

Although the golden glow of sunset descends quietly, the liveliness of the amusement doesn’t reduce by one bit.

Shaw: It’s almost time to head over. 

MC: What? 

Seeing my puzzled expression, Shaw frowns, then reaches out to flick my forehead.

Shaw: You’ve already forgotten what you said yourself?

[ Option A: Something more exhilarating - the Super Splash. ]

When we arrive at our destination, we happen to make it just in time for the final ride of the “Super Splash” attraction.

Unexpectedly, he remembered the answer I gave to him a few days earlier. A smile involuntarily surfaces on my lips. 

However, when we board the boat, I realise that Shaw isn’t really that excited. 

MC: ...why don’t you look excited at all? Don't you like such exhilarating rides?

Shaw: What’s so exhilarating about getting drenched? If you like it, you can report to me daily. I can help you experience it every day.

MC: There’s no need for that...

While saying this, I open the raincoat in my hands, but see that there’s a very large hole at the top.

MC: Oh no, my raincoat is broken!

At this moment, the staff member has already walked over to us, preparing to press down on the safety bars. 

Shaw: Hold on. 

Shaw signals that he should wait, then smoothly removes his raincoat, covering it over me. 

Shaw: Wear it properly.

MC: But you...

Shaw: There are no ‘but’s. I don’t want to see how silly you’ll look sneezing in front of me later.

Along with the low grunts of the machinery, the boat makes its gradual ascent. Shaw crosses his arms over his chest, seated unperturbedly.

MC: Why don’t you wear my raincoat? It could shield you from some of the water.

Shaw: No need. I’ll get drenched anyway.

Faint light illuminates our faces. The boat has already reached the opening of the cave. I refuse to give in, handing him the raincoat. 

MC: ...you really aren’t going to cover yourself?

Shaw: Nope.

With his words, the boat dives vertically. A sense of weightlessness overcomes me instantly, and the surrounding water floats around us like mist. In the midst of the misty rain, I reach out with both my arms, pulling Shaw tightly to myself. 

Shaw’s eyes widen slightly. As compared to the vertically falling boat, the scene before him seems to leave him even more in shock.

Perhaps he hasn’t even noticed that the corners of his lips have curled upwards, akin to the vague rainbows underneath the misty rain.

After getting off the boat, I look at Shaw excitedly. 

MC: Wasn’t it even more interesting than imagined? You had a great time, didn’t you!

Shaw casts a glance at me, releasing a soft “hmph”.

Shaw: It was all right. But it was pretty sudden...

MC: What? 

Shaw: Nothing much.

Rain gradually patters down, which is a little special for a winter day.

Although I tried my best to cover him earlier, there are still numerous areas where he got drenched.

Water droplets pelt onto Shaw’s fringe, which make his pretty golden coloured eyes all the more bright.

MC: This rain came so abruptly...

Shaw: Forget about it. It’d stop after a while. Where do you plan to go next?

--

[ Option B: Attractions like the 4D theatre would be very interesting! ]

Because of the carnival event, the 4D theatre has also prepared all sorts of movies for visitors to choose from. 

Unexpectedly, he remembered the answer I gave to him a few days earlier. A smile involuntarily surfaces on my lips. 

MC: Shaw, what kind of movie do you want to watch?

Shaw: It’s fine as long as it’s interesting.

MC: What kind of a request is that... mm, what about this comedy?

Shaw: Looks pretty boring. 

MC: A horror film?

Shaw: I’m not afraid.

Shaw suddenly reaches out to the screen with a finger, and points at the name of a film.

Shaw: This one doesn't look bad. 

MC: “Speed” ...have you watched it before?

Shaw: Nope.

Shaw shrugs, as though it’s a natural thing.

Shaw: The name isn’t bad.

Since I don’t have an opinion, we end up selecting the movie which Shaw thinks has a pretty good name.

Perhaps because it’s too hardcore for couples, there aren’t many people in the viewing hall.

The edited film very quickly enters its climax. On the screen, the protagonist is blocked by the antagonist at the intersection. In the next second, a punch heads squarely towards his face--

MC: !

I suddenly feel someone “hitting” my shoulder.

Scanning my surroundings, I don’t see anyone around. As such, I tug at Shaw’s sleeve, speaking softly--

MC: Watch the movie properly.

Shaw: ?

Shaw furrows his brows slightly, lacking understanding.

I ignore him, whipping my head around to continue watching the movie. However, in less than half a minute, someone “hits” me again from the back.

MC: ...

Turning my head, I reach out to whack the person next to me.

MC: [softly] Is it really that fun? Pay attention.

Shaw fixes his eyes on me for a while. Then, he suddenly leans in closer, grabbing my wrist.

The light from the screen illuminates his face. I can sense his unsuppressed gaze, and I feel inexplicably nervous.

MC: ...what is it?

He doesn’t respond, but simply draws even closer, his warm breath falling on my ear--

Shaw: [softly] Are you a fool?

After saying this, he tugs my hand, placing it on the back of the chair. A wave of tremors occur in a second.

He swings the hand he’s holding onto tightly. Even after shooting him an apologetic gaze, he doesn’t loosen his grip.

Shaw: Hmph.

After the movie ends, we stand at the entrance of the theatre. I smile at Shaw, a little embarrassed.

MC: ...hehe, I was wrong for accusing you earlier.

Shaw: Oh? So how do you plan to make up for it?

--

[ Option C: If it’s with you, the small mine wagons! ]

A light breeze blows my hair up. The relatively slow-moving small mine wagons courses along the mountain range, moving into the ore mine shimmering with jewels.

Unexpectedly, he remembered the answer I gave to him a few days earlier. A smile involuntarily surfaces on my lips.

Shaw: You’re smiling so happily. Looks like you’ve finally found an attraction suited for you.

A teasing voice drifts to my ear.

Turning my head, I see that Shaw is leaning against the chair of the small mine wagon, and the entire image looks like a strange fit.

MC: Pfft...

Shaw: What’s so funny?

MC: I thought you’d be vehemently against this.

Shaw: Why?

MC: After all, these types of attractions are really boring to you, aren’t they?

Shaw: It is pretty boring.

Shaw pauses, then he continues.

Shaw: But after getting to know you, we’ve done so many boring things together. Not just this.

The cooling wind lifts his fringe up gently. Although he said that it’s boring, Shaw’s face reveals a relaxed and pure smile.

The mine car gradually climbs to the highest spot. A tender emotion follows suit, bubbling upwards from my heart. Just as I’m about to say something, a shrill cry suddenly comes from behind us.

Visitor: Waaa-----!!!

After a short silence, Shaw and I can’t help but laugh. He leans over, sticking close to my ear.

Shaw: Hey. When you on the U-shaped rollercoaster earlier, did you want to scream like that too?

MC: Of course not!

Shaw: Oh?

Capturing a hint of playfulness in Shaw’s eyes, there’s a stirring in my heart, and I clear my throat--

MC: It was so scary--

Shaw is stunned for a moment. With a laugh, he responds.

Shaw: You’re so lame--

We laugh while looking at each other, feeling an indescribable carefreeness and relaxation. As such, I summon my strength, and scream loudly.

MC: Shaw, you’re even more lame--

I fail to notice that the small mine wagons are currently passing by a ravine. The ravine is open and spacious, and echos are given extra effect.

"Shaw, you’re even more lame--”, "Shaw, you’re even more lame--”, "Shaw, you’re even more lame...”

Shaw: ...

MC: ...

The entire ravine echoes with my voice.

After we get off the small mine wagon, I try to placate Shaw by shooting him a smile.

MC: Sorry, I didn’t think my voice would be so loud...

Shaw looks at me angrily, then bends his finger to tap on my head.

Shaw: In that case, how do you plan to make it up to me?

[ PART TWO PROLOGUE ]

After pondering for a moment, I feel apologetic, taking out a map from my bag, and shooting him a secret smile.

Following the map, I bring Shaw to a veranda.

As the fireworks display is about to begin, visitors have all rushed to the plaza, and this place doesn’t have many people. 

Shaw: Why did you bring me here? 

MC: You don’t really like liveliness, do you? There are few people here, it’s quiet, and it’s a good place to view the fireworks. 

I wave the map in front of him in satisfaction.

MC: I did quite a lot of homework and found this ideal spot. How is it? Do you feel a little touched?

Shaw doesn’t say anything, simply looking at me quietly. After a short pause, his eyebrows suddenly arch upwards.

Shaw: Hey, do you still remember the other question I asked you?

[ Option A: You listening to me for the entire day. ]

After a few seconds of recollection, I nod. 

MC: You were talking about what counts as “a perfect day”, right? Back then, my answer was that I hoped you’d listen to me for the entire day.

Shaw: That’s right. But a day is definitely not possible. I’ll give you thirty seconds to think about it, and you can make me do anything.

I blink, a little dumbfounded. 

Shaw: From now, the countdown will begin--

MC: W-wait! Isn’t this too sudden?

Shaw: I don’t think so. Twenty-five seconds left.

MC: Let me think about it!

Shaw: Rejected. Twenty-three seconds. 

MC: You... I want you to...

Shaw: Twenty seconds. 

MC: ...stop counting!!

While Shaw does the countdown, time passes quickly. By the time he finishes counting, I have yet to decide on what he should do.

In the end, I release a sigh.

MC: ...forget it.

Shaw: Six... hm?

His voice halts.

MC: I think you're pretty good the way you are right now.

I pause, looking at him seriously.

MC: Very infuriating at times, but very straightforward, and very frank. There’s nothing special I want you to do. If I have to say something, it’d be for you to remain the way you are right now. 

Shaw is stunned for a moment. His eyes are fixed on me. After a moment, he suddenly lowers his head and laughs. 

I’m not sure which sentence tickled him, and I look at him with mild confusion.

Shaw: Have I ever told you that you’re really very interesting sometimes? 

MC: ...only sometimes?

Although I’m not sure what he’s thinking about, I can’t help but smile when I see him laughing so heartily.

Gradually, he has his fill of laughter. As he looks at me, his voice brings with it a smile and certainty.

Shaw: I think you’re pretty good the way you are too. I quite like it.

My heart seems to be tugged by something. Shaw looks at me and chuckles softly.

Shaw: I’ll agree to it. The other request you said offhandedly, I’ll agree to it too.

MC: What?

Shaw: Mull over it yourself.

--

[ Option B: Receiving the present I want most. ]

Looking at him, I respond after a moment.

MC: I even thought you forgot about it. 

A few days ago, Shaw asked me what counts as “a perfect day”. Back then, my response as “receiving the present I want most”.

MC: But seeing that you’re empty-handed and didn’t even bring a bag, it looks like you didn’t prepare a present.

Shaw: How did you know I didn’t prepare anything? Not bringing a bag doesn’t mean I came empty-handed.

He whips out his phone from his pocket. Seconds after giving it a few taps, I feel the phone in my bag vibrating.

I tap on the screen, and see that Shaw has sent me a message - he’s shared an album with me. 

MC: “Cherish life, stay away from late nights”...what’s this?

Shaw: An album for insomnia I prepared for you.

Seeing that I'm slightly baffled, a hint of a smile flashes across Shaw’s eyes.

Shaw: Doesn’t everyone want good health? 

MC: ...you’re not wrong. But I think the words “stay away from late nights” don’t carry much persuasive power when they’re from you.

Shaw: Exactly. Don’t stay up late so often. Don’t learn from me. 

Curious, I tap on the album, and discover that its filled with jazz, blues, classics, and all sorts of songs.

MC: So you don’t just listen to rock...

Shaw: What kind of strange misunderstandings do you have about me?

I scroll to the bottom, and notice a few familiar rock songs - I see them often on Shaw’s MP4. 

MC: Pfft, isn’t this an album for insomnia? 

Shaw: Mm. If you really can’t sleep, then you might as well not sleep.

MC: Thank you. I quite like this present.

I nod sincerely, shooting him a smile.

MC: I came across a saying once. “Through a persons’ playlist, you can understand him even more.” In that case, when I finish listening to all the songs in this album, does it mean I’ll have a better understanding of you?

He looks at me, the corners of his lips rising slowly. The night is behind him, as though he’s a part of this present.

Shaw: You could give it a try.

“Bang--” A firework suddenly blooms in the sky, and we look towards the sound.

[ PART TWO ENDING ]

The resplendent fireworks seem to brighten the entire night. In the gorgeous flowing lights, that colour I had chosen is especially outstanding.

[ FIREWORKS ]

-

Shaw: Don’t you think watching the fireworks like this is pretty boring?

MC: In that case, how does one make it more interesting? 

Shaw: You’ve got to add background music.

He takes out an MP4 from his pocket, and a pair of earpieces are suddenly stuffed into my ears.

The world quietens down in an instant, but I can still vaguely hear the fireworks.

Shaw presses the ‘play’ button, and a melody slowly flows into the earpieces--

This is the song I wrote based on his demo the other time. It’s just that the music has become even fuller, and the melody is much more complete. 

This song, which he had originally given up on, has now integrated the styles of two people, leaving a mark belonging to us. 

The night wind brushes my cheeks. A certain corner in the depths of my heart seems to be filled incrementally by this foreign yet familiar melody.

All of a sudden, Shaw moves his lips, as though he’s saying something.

Just as I plan to remove the earpieces to hear him properly, he reaches out to clasp his hands over mine. 

Light from the fireworks descend on his parting and closing lips. The sound waves from the earpieces convey his words to me clearly.

Shaw looks at the girl blinking at him in bewilderment, and he laughs. 

Shaw knows the contents of what he recorded a few days ago, and also knows that right now, she can’t hear his voice. 

He calculates the timing. The sounds coming from the earpieces seem to grab her attention. Rarely nervous, he clears his throat and starts speaking.

Shaw: [in the earpieces] Come to think of it, there are some things I want to tell you. 

Shaw: I know you can’t hear this, but there are still some things I want to tell you. 

Shaw: [in the earpieces] A year has gone by. You’re still so troublesome, and always love going against me. 

Shaw: I’ll admit - in this year, life has become more interesting than before.

Shaw: [in the earpieces] It seems like on these types of days, people say some things symbolically.

Shaw: Although it sounds cliche, since you treat these days seriously, I have to reluctantly say some things.

Shaw: [in the earpieces] I know what you’re anticipating. But I won’t say it.

Shaw: Listen properly. I'm only going to say this once, so cherish it.

A firework explodes in the air. Along with the drum-like beats, his words strike my heart--

Shaw: [in the earpieces] Definitely not. 

Shaw: Happy anniversary. This is just our beginning.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw #SHAW IS SO SWEET #SHWEET #one line summary: Shaw is a 11/10 boyfriend #gavin's no. 1 place in my heart is no longer secure

[royalydamned]

Severus Snape and social pressure

I've been putting this off for a while but in the light of recent events I really wanted to adress it. I'm not the one for metas per se, but well....

People who think Snape wanted to join Death Eaters because of idea of blood purity usually accuse us, Snape defenders, of thinking he was forced into it. That's nothing but a overdramatization and twisting our words, our point stands in the fact that he was manipulated/persuaded into it.

force - "make someone do something against their will"

manipulate - "control or influence (a person or situation) cleverly or unscrupulously."

persuade - 1. "induce (someone) to do something through reasoning or argument."

- 2. "cause (someone) to believe something, especially after a sustained effort; convince."

- 3. "(of a situation or event) provide a sound reason for (someone) to do something."

(added exact definition of words in case someone decided to twist what I mean)

We don't deny him making the choice as his own decision. They didn't threaten him, blackmail him, force him. As group they had enough influence to make him believe in it as well, and also providing a safe space which he desperately needed and wanted to stay in.

Before anyone tells me I'm condoning his actions, I am not. This is analysis meta, explaining the possible things leading to him joining the Death Eaters, and not excusing them, or putting the blame on others. I feel like I always have to explain myself on anything on this goddamn app.

Individual in a group:

When it comes to a single individual in a group without opinion plurality, that share most views, the person adapts to the group’s perception, and not only because of the desire to fit in. They get affected by the habits, behavior and even language usage (like when a lot of people who don’t swear start swearing to different extents after being around the group often, accommodating to it even unconsciously, or quite the opposite, when a person who swears is welcomed into a group of people that find swearing rude and shield from hearing/using it, they regulate this language not to feel awkward, different and judged) and pick them up into their own daily life over time. The gradual adjusting and merging into the group can not only add and change one’s habits and behavior, but also completely erase the ones they had before joining and didn’t go with the others.

Snape is known to actually adapting his behavior in different case, like language. As a kid and a teen, he is shown to have poor communication skills and problems with proper speaking:

"You're...You're a witch," whispered Snape.

"I didn't mean-- I just don't want to see you made a fool of-- He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!" The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. "And he's not...everyone thinks...big Quidditch hero--" Snape's bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily's eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

"The-- the prophecy...the prediction...Trelawney..."

He always seem to have difficulty speaking under some kind of stress and pressure, yet as a teacher he always seems to speak properly and appear collected, as a person with authority and surrounded by well educated people, he has to be seen on the same level, clearly perfecting his language when even angry or pressured he rarely starts almost stuttering. Just an example of how Snape is actually willing to adapt and quick to do so, no desire to hold his actual habits.

Response of one's environment:

Behavioral change is also linked with external reaction. After his and Lily's friendship ended, he was only around one group of people, getting positive responses when doing/saying things that others would find bad.

He wasn't actually known using Mudblood before hanging out with his housemates

When it comes to reinforcing the adopted behavior, person encounters positive and negative response, that shapes their perception on the way they act and if it’s truly acceptable. If the responses are mainly positive and encouraging, these new demeanors stick with them, if the responses are negative, person can change to be accepted by the majority in society if they don’t have enough support.

If Snape faced mostly positive reactions to those actions, he normalized them even if he didn’t quite believe in them at first, and if he wasn’t called out on it by Lily enough which could be only a theory, and nobody else cared enough to challenge it, it stuck with him.

Snape's bullying of muggleborns:

There is no clear evidence of Snape taking an active role, but also no evidence of him being passive.

I’m sure that the initiator wasn’t him though, and that he was either an imitator, that takes part in the action when invited and does what others want from him/imitates what others did, or just participating without taking any action, as an act of hiding behind group’s protection and validation that sometimes under pressure especially in public social events can result in a person acting out of their way.

Peer pressure and group manipulation:

In my opinion Severus was great and easily manipulated target because he had strong feelings of anger and sense of injustice that he experienced on himself from multiple people therefore could easily fall for the ideas especially if there was selective providing of information from their part (intentional avoiding of certain topic that could be viewed as upsetting or in any other negative way, potentially putting off the “target” and only focusing on the positives which would appeal to the positive feelings).

Snape was a victim of bullying humiliation and almost murder because of bunch of arrogant guys, the idea of being powerful and no longer be an easy prey must have been insanely intriguing and most definetly the main reason of his agreement.

This is more of a side note, but it also had been proved bullying victims have higher tendency to turn to crime.

The other way of manipulation that could be theoretically very easily present in the Snape - Death Eaters dynamics is the eliciting of certain emotions in individual, which is the well known protection, acceptance and feeling of belonging they provided Snape.

Next I’d mention the confirmation bias, which is the tendency to be persuaded about values and opinions that are already present in one consciousness, the idea already born, but in doubt as something new, where the person is affected only by the confirmation of their idea/suspicion and mostly ignore or try to ignore everything that rejects/doesn’t support them, so if Snape had already bad perception of muggles because of his father and maybe Petunia, it would be easy for it to grow into the growing idea of purism under the support of DE that agreed with him, adding on more negative traits/ideas about Muggles/Muggleborns/non-magical people, since it was a very emotionally sensitive topic for him and he was easily affected because of the trauma he endured by a muggle.

Why Severus Snape but not Sirius Black?:

Many people bring up Sirius' Black as a counter argument, since Sirius was also abused and even brought up in Death Eater household.

The more easily manipulative individual, or the less strong-willed, the easier and quicker the transition is.

Manipulation is mostly done on emotionally weakened or recently very frustrated individuals, that are already starting to form a certain ideas, the majority supporting and/or confirming it makes them give in easily.

Like I mentioned before, Snape had a strongly negative emotional connection towards Muggles in his life, easily forming a negative bias against them, which if reinforced and supported enough were easily transformed into next level. He never shown any dislike towards Muggle-borns, he even protected Lily's feelings when she asked if it makes any difference in the Wizarding World.

His emotional nature and vulnerability because of his abuse and bullying in the course of his life, without any kind of protection and support system, it must have been rather easy to brought him into the great idea of power, authority and protection.

Sirius was from Death Eater family, but had the Marauders, mainly James, who rejected those ideas, being with him significantly more often than his family. Taking the same analysis on Sirius as Severus, Snape was abused by a muggle and protected by blood purists, Sirius was abused by blood purists and had no negative experience caused by Muggles.

People tend to have the same ruler for different experiences in this case, but their experiences are actually the opposite.

Snape is great subject of analysis especially when it comes to psychological side , and it is definetly not as simple as being forced or believing in it himself but many more factors like an average human mind in different situation and it feels almost insulting to his character simplifying his choices like that.

I'm by no means a psychological expert, but this meta was researched, and not on the internet, and I take great passion in my research, still doesn't mean I couldn't translate something correctly or that certain things weren't updated in some way.

#pro severus snape #severus snape #snape meta #pro snape

[glitteryglitter]

3+5 (Foxface x fem! reader)

𝙰𝙽: This has two endings so you get to choose which one you want! The first one is all angst and pining, the other one is kind of fluffy. I know that I love a cheerful ending, but not everyone does. 

Also, the reader is from district 3. 

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:  slight angst, violence, and death

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Foxface x fem! reader

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3,644

                                                ๑*˚🍓˚*๑

No, no, no. this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't

You stared in horror as your friend and ally, Foxface from district 5 emerged in a horrific outfit on a chariot.

Surprisingly, your feeling of absolute desolation was not from Foxface's outfit or even your own.

Both of which resembled something the Tin Man would wear if he'd donned couture.

Instead, it was a realization.

You would have to kill her.

Allow me to explain why!

You had, like countless others from district 3 in years past had been selected to enter in The Hunger Games and a few days ago, you'd formally met a new friend.

You'd sworn you would have no allies but unfortunately, your friendly personality and cheerful attitude made that a virtually impossible feat.

An extreme problem that as we all know, only results in heartbreak after one's allies are killed.

This certain person, A sly girl from district 5 who was absolutely amazing in every way was someone who you couldn't stop thinking of.

Stealthy, kind, and absolutely, mind-bogglingly good at identifying plants. She was also so smart, with gorgeous amber eyes that always seemed to take your breath away.

Wait-what? Since when did you think about her eyes? You brushed it off.

After all, you had bigger problems and worries.

You smiled placidly and waved to the crowds, all the while stewing over your predicament.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

You looked over your shoulder at Foxface.

"Are you okay?"

You knew she had been nervous about this, you didn't blame her. You were too.

It was incredibly stressful and you had seen what the others could do.

Even you felt like you didn't stand a chance.

she nodded and smiled at you which for some unknown reason caused your heart to flutter.

Waves of worries crashed through your mind.

What would you do if you were the only two who remained? what would you do if she died?

What would you do in general? You knew you couldn't kill, Finch vowed not to, and you knew there were careers trained to do exactly that.

You were reminded of the gravity of the situation as even more tributes joined the parade.

Only one would live.

Your surroundings swirled in front of your eyes.

Your knees felt like jelly, you would have toppled over if it wasn't for your district partner who had grabbed you before you fell.

Y/n are you okay? The rather mousy-looking boy murmured as he firmly held on to your wrist.

"Yes, I'm fine." You smiled appreciatively. You'd be sad to see him go.

Your mind went blank once more as the parade continued.

Finch's mind was still racing though.

Through the next few days, your friendship grew and you became inseparable.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.

Every time you smiled at her, she felt a warmth in her chest.

She told herself it was the joy of a true friendship.

She wasn't far off.

It was in fact, at lunch, the day before the actual games that she realized what was happening.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

Foxface had just sat down at a table, you flopped down beside her and promptly started crying into your bowl of salad.

As she pulled you into a hallway, the careers looked at one another, sharing the same thought; What was wrong?

Of course, they all knew exactly what was wrong, they were going to be put in a fight to the death the very next day, but no one really felt like saying it.

"Y/n what's wrong? You can tell me anything, I promise."

You sniffed a few times and shook your head. "It's okay, I'm fine. I know I'm probably one of the least prepared people here and I don't stand a chance. I guess I'm just a little bit nervous for tomorrow."

That may have been the biggest understatement of the century.

At the moment, you'd rather eat an entire bag of coffee grounds than go into the games, but unfortunately, it wasn't an option.

"No, y/n, trust me when I say you're prepared. Your odds are fair, you're no career, and you're not great with weapons, I'll be honest, but they're still decent. Your reputation amongst the capitol people is better than ever. That means more sponsors. You will. Be. Okay. I know it."

"But- what about you? I don't know what I'd do if you died, you’re one of the few people that I know I can trust, Finch. I can't have you die. You should be the one who wins. not me."

You replied between sniffles.

It was at that moment that Finch realized something.

As she looked into your puffy, bloodshot eyes she felt the warm feeling in her chest from earlier return.

She had a crush.

Not just a little one either.

A big painful crush that would most likely end in heartbreak, but she didn't care.

She decided then and there to do her best and ensure you won.

"We should wait and see, they might change the rules this year. You never know what they'll throw at us. Perhaps there could be two victors!"

It broke her heart to see the glimmer of hope in your eyes.

She knew it was probably a lie, but if that's what it took to make you content, that's what she would do.

You threw your arms around her "Thank you so much, this means a lot." She awkwardly patted you on the back, not quite used to being hugged, let alone by the very person she was hopelessly crushing on. "Now, let's get back to lunch, ally,"

You linked arms and strolled back into the lunchroom, heads held high, filled with renewed, albeit slightly false hope.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

It was the day of the games. You'd all been placed in your tubes.

Foxface looked over, only to see you positively shaking.

She didn't blame you, half the tributes were.

The countdown began.

You waved and offered her a tentative smile.

Ten seconds to go...

She smiled back.

nine...eight... seven...six...five...She rehearsed the plan in her head.

four...three...two...one...

Chaos ensued.

Foxface bolted. You, in the meantime, de-activated several landmines and pocketed them for future use.

Being from District 3 did have its advantages.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all!

You'd spoken too soon.

You were thrown out of your small revere by someone grabbing the collar of your shirt.

You whipped your head around as best you could and caught a glimpse of blond hair.

Cato. Oh no- you attempted to kick him in the shin but missed.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the best plan of action.

He pushed you against a trunk of a tree and held his sword to your throat.

A thin line of blood appeared.

He didn't look to be enjoying himself, but he also didn't look like he had any plans to stop your potential decapitation.

Foxface ran through the mess, tributes were being attacked, running, dying, and just overall not having a great first day.

She saw you and ran, only barely avoiding a landmine.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at Cato.

He turned to meet the piercing gaze of your savior.

If looks could kill...He would have fallen over before you could say "career"

Fortunately, this gave you enough time to wriggle out of his arms and kick him in the knees again.

This time, your foot actually made contact with his knee and he fell.

Foxface grabbed his sword and hit him over the head with the hilt. His eyes closed.

"Is he...you know... dead?" You asked, cautiously poking his head with a stick.

"No, probably just stunned. We can leave him, someone else will find him. Let's go, before he wakes up."

You pulled each other through the explosives.

Finally, after what felt like ages the two of you reached relative safety.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

It was gradually getting darker and you decided you'd be better off sleeping.

You placed some small landmines you'd deactivated earlier in front of the cave to discourage any unfortunate intruders and lay down.

Foxface lay down and passed you a bit of bread from her backpack.

While you ate, the two of you drafted out a plan for the next few days and what it would include.

It was decided that you'd take shifts and alternate between who guarded the cave and who got materials, at night, you'd place a landmine outside so if any unwanted visitors attempted to enter...well..you didn't want to think about that.

Finally, after some time, you felt your eyelids get quite heavy.

You lay down on the cave floor, it wasn't really as bad as you'd thought.

The moss was soft and with Foxface nearby, you felt safe.

She lay down beside you and soon, you had both drifted off to sleep.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

You woke up with a start.

It was still dark outside.

The sun hadn't quite risen yet and the stars were still visible in the sky.

Then you felt an arm wrap around your waist.

Foxface had thrown her arm around you in her sleep.

You felt your face heat up.

She didn't seem like the type to do this and you were sure if she woke up, she surely wouldn't speak to you ever again.

She would be positively fuming...

Voices, barely distinguishable from the birds in the trees were heard in the distance.

"Wazzamatter?" Finch mumbled, still half asleep, blinking sleepily, oblivious to the fact that her arm was still around your waist. 

Your heart melted.

"Nothing, I thought I heard something, but it was just a squirrel."

"We should probably get started, we'll need supplies and it would be better to stay inside during the day. "

You nodded. This would give you time to think about what had happened that morning. 

You carefully extracted yourself from her grasp and prepared for the day ahead 

As Foxface left, you noticed a small package drift from the sky in a parachute.

Your heart leaped. A sponsor! Foxface was right, they would be of use!

Oh, you could just kiss her right now you were so happy!

Wait- what? She's your best friend! What are you thinking Y/n! You don't kiss your best friend.

You opened it to see bandages, alcohol, and a note.

You stared at the note. "For the couple from 3 and 5, stay safe! -a friend in the capitol"

Your eyes went wide.

Did they think that you liked each other?

Was there a possibility that you liked her?

You sat down abruptly as you realized, Yes. Yes you did.

You shook your head. Now was not the time for crushing!

While you cleaned, you thought about the morning.

You were sure it was just a coincidence, it was probably just nothing. But still- what if she felt the same?

You remembered the note and tried to suppressed the small twinge of hope that it provided.

It was probably nothing.

They must just feel sorry for you.

Unrequited love was definitely a tragedy that the capitol would love.

You continued to mull this over until you heard a rustling in the leaves.

You cautiously poked your head out, only to see Foxface looking quite wounded sitting in the cave's entrance.

You immediately rushed to her side.

"I stole some food from the district four boy and he noticed. Stabbed me with his trident. I don't think it's infected yet, but I don't think I can walk normally."

You looked to the side where your package had landed and grabbed a bottle of alcohol.

As Foxface coached you through bandaging her leg, you only felt your feelings towards her grow. it really was remarkable.

You hoped you'd manage to get through the games.

Together.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

As the days progressed, you reached a sort of routine and it became almost second nature.

That was of course until the announcement of a feast was made.

You and Finch had made a plan. She'd get materials, you would make sure everything was clear and distract if necessary.

That's when you heard a rustling in the bushes.

The female tribute from District 12, Katniss was crouched in the shrubbery with an arrow pointed directly at you.

You bolted.

You weren't sure where you'd go but as long as Foxface was okay and you weren't shot, you were pretty sure it was the right place.

You felt an arrow graze your leg and you turned around only to have Katniss smack into you.

You tried your best to reason with her while she pinned you down.

She grabbed an arrow from her quiver that would surely end up in your heart.

At that moment, Foxface ran past, and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Go, I'll be okay!"

She opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off.

"Please! I promise I'll come back, just get to safety!" you cried, sounding rather choked.

Come on, Y/n you can do this. Almost everyone else has.

"I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this," you whispered.

Katniss's eyes went wide as you shakily held a knife to her throat.

You weren't sure how you felt about this.

"Goodbye, Katniss. Sweet dreams." you cooed.

Before you could change your mind, you sliced the knife through her neck, got up, and ran into the woods, still getting used to the feeling of a weapon in your hands.

A cannon could be heard in the distance.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

You sat down heavily in shock. You had just done the unimaginable.

You'd killed a tribute.

Foxface plopped down beside you.

"Did you get her?" she asked, her voice sounding just as exhausted and hollow as the both of you felt.

"Yes, I did."

The reality of what you'd done hit you.

Of course, you'd experienced it, but it was a whole different thing to actually admit it.

To say that you'd killed someone and know that there would be no consequences except the moral ones.

The ones that stayed in your mind and haunted you for years to come.

If they did come that is.

"What happened to the others?"

"They killed each other off." She took a few berries out of the backpack that she'd managed to grab at the feast.

What are those?

She gave you a look. "Take a guess"

Your eyes widened.

                                                   ๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Ending 1 (Angst and death!)

"Foxface, no, please don't do this," you begged

She shook her head. "You heard the rules, y/n there can only be one victor now. It should be you. there's no use pretending like there is another way out for both of us."

She took a handful of berries from her backpack and cradled them in her hands, thinking over her decision.

"But you promised-"

Your words brought her back to the lunch at the training center.

It felt like years ago, but it had only been a few days.

That was when it hit her.

She'd never told you her feelings. The girl she liked- no- loved would never know.

As she thought, a terrible idea came into your mind.

You knew it wouldn't end well but alas, you had been well aware of it from the start.

Finally, you grabbed a handful of berries from Foxface's hand making sure to scatter the rest far away. If one of you had to be a victor, it was going to be her.

You would make sure of it.

“What are you doing Y/n?!” she gasped.

It was too late. You'd already swallowed the berries.

She cradled you in her arms, begging you to stay alive a few moments more.

"Foxface, I wish I told you this earlier, I know you don't feel the same, but at this point, I just need to let you know. You have been a true friend and I couldn't have wished for a better ally. I should have told you this sooner, I love you. With all my heart. I really do and not even death can change that." You rambled. The berries making your mind foggier by the minute.

"Y/n I- I do feel the same. You mean so much to me and if I had only known-"

With that, you kissed her cheek, careful to get none of the night lock near her mouth.

"Goodbye Finch, I love you"

"-If I had known, I would have told you that I loved you too. We would have gone on dates, had a future together, and I know it doesn't seem likely, but we would have made it work, if only-"

her voice trailed off as you went limp in her arms.

A cannon went off.

"if I'd only seen it sooner-" she trailed off quietly.

A loud voice proclaimed Finch of District 5 the winner of the 54th Hunger Games yet she didn’t seem to hear a thing

In fact, she didn't react in the slightest.

Foxface stared at your lifeless body. The color still draining from your cheeks.

Even though you were dead, the night lock berries still staining your lips a deep navy, you had to be the most gorgeous girl she'd ever laid eyes on.

"Goodbye, y/n I love you too," she said, her voice slightly choked with tears she refused to let fall.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give the capitol the satisfaction of seeing her distress.

She would later go on to interviews, refusing to say more than a few grief and anger-filled sentences to let the capitol know exactly how she felt about everything.

They had killed her girlfriend and she would make sure they knew what they'd done.

                                                   ๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Ending 2 (less sad! Slight angst and swearing, but no death! )

"Foxface, why are you doing this? I should be the one to go, not you."

"No y/n I can't let you. "

"But Finch-"

"Why y/n? Tell me why you should die. You are brave, sweet, and kind. Hell, you even apologized to Katniss before slitting her throat. I should be the one to die. Not! You!"

She was yelling now, but you needed to argue your case.

You had to stifle a hollow laugh. This was the most comically dark and strange situation imaginable. Arguing with your crush about which one of you should die.

"But why? I know you said that I should stay alive, but you keep forgetting about yourself. You have a family to go home to as well. They love you, they care, and they miss you! Plus, you taught me the bravery that you claim I have!"

"You want to know why y/n? It's because I love you. A lot. If you died, I don't know what I would do. " Foxface clapped a hand over her mouth.

"You love me? Like, love me?" You blinked numbly. 

She sighed. "That sounded awful, I'm sorry for arguing. I know I shouldn't have said it, but you’ve always stayed by my side. You never failed to see my value. You even convinced me that having a 5 in training didn't make me weak."

"It doesn't though!" You remarked.

 "Look at where we are now! The last two tributes. We would be out of this mess too if we just had some way to get out together."

Both of you looked at the ground where the berries lay scattered, looked at each other, and nodded with the same idea in your heads.

Each of you picked up some berries and took a deep breath.

"Foxface, I love you too. I mean it. This is the worst possible situation to ever tell someone this, but it's true."

With that, she kissed you gently. 

"So it's settled then?"

"I think so."

"Goodbye Y/n."

"Goodbye, Foxface."

"Okay Y/n you've got this," You told yourself.

3...

2...

1...

"WAIT STOP!" A loud voice shrieked.

You and Foxface both looked up, the poisonous berries inches away from your mouths

"THERE HAS BEEN ONE MORE CHANGE OF RULES"

You stared at each other in confusion.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR FIRST EVER TWO VICTORS, Y/N FROM DISTRICT 3 AND FINCH FROM DISTRICT 5! THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION! GOODBYE!"

~several days later~

The Capitol was completely taken with the first couple to win the games.

Upon being interviewed, Foxface's response was "We're a team. We always were and always will be," and you couldn't agree more.

                                                   ๑*˚🍓˚*๑ 

#the hunger games x reader #the hunger games imagines #the hunger games imagine #foxface #foxface x reader #thg x reader #The Hunger Games

[rileymarie]

Fahrenheit 451 Quotes

“Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?” And then he shut up, for he remembered last week and the two white stones staring up at the ceiling and the pump-snake with the probing eye and the two soap-faced men with the cigarettes moving in their mouths when they talked. But that was another Mildred, that was a Mildred so deep inside this one, and so bothered, really bothered, that the two women had never met. He turned away.

Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books levelled down to a sort of paste pudding norm, do you follow me?”

Do you see? Out of the nursery into the college and back to the nursery; there's your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.

Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man's mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters, that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!”

School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts?”

More cartoons in books. More pictures. The mind drinks less and less. Impatience.

Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally 'bright,' did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal.

Coloured people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator.

You can't rid yourselves of all the odd ducks in just a few years. The home environment can undo a lot you try to do at school. That's why we've lowered the kindergarten age year after year until now we're almost snatching them from the cradle.

If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it.

Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely.

And the second?” “Leisure.” “Oh, but we've plenty of off-hours.” “Off-hours, yes. But time to think? If you're not driving a hundred miles an hour, at a clip where you can't think of anything else but the danger, then you're playing some game or sitting in some room where you can't argue with the fourwall televisor. Why? The televisor is 'real.' It is immediate, it has dimension. It tells you what to think and blasts it in. It must be, right. It seems so right. It rushes you on so quickly to its own conclusions your mind hasn't time to protest, 'What nonsense!'”

“Jesus God,” said Montag. “Every hour so many damn things in the sky! How in hell did those bombers get up there every single second of our lives! Why doesn't someone want to talk about it? We've started and won two atomic wars since 1960. Is it because we're having so much fun at home we've forgotten the world? Is it because we're so rich and the rest of the world's so poor and we just don't care if they are? I've heard rumours; the world is starving, but we're well-fed. Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we're hated so much?

Lord, how they've changed it — in our 'parlours' these days. Christ is one of the 'family' now. I often wonder it God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that every worshipper absolutely needs.”

The same infinite detail and awareness could be projected through the radios and televisors, but are not. No, no, it's not books at all you're looking for! Take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.

"Number one: Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition, anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.

“So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless.

Only if the third necessary thing could be given us. Number one, as I said, quality of information. Number two: leisure to digest it. And number three: the right to carry out actions based on what we learn from the inter-action of the first two.

They're Caesar's praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, 'Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.' Most of us can't rush around, talking to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book.

Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore.”

The old man nodded. “Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.”

#fahrenheit 451 #book quotes #quotes #books #crap this book predicted the future #ray bradbury #reading

[comrade-meow]

capitalocene: the profit motive will always get in the way of our collective humanity. the oil companies that profit from the destruction of the human ecology want to sacrifice human beings for more money. this is how the capitalist system works.

(via)

Harvard researchers chart evolution from denial to misdirection as House inquiry widens

The U.S. House of Representatives’ Oversight Committee earlier this month widened its inquiry into the oil industry’s role in fostering doubt about the role of fossil fuels in causing climate change. A letter from the panel to Darren Woods, ExxonMobil chief executive, said lawmakers were “concerned that to protect … profits, the industry has reportedly led a coordinated effort to spread disinformation to mislead the public and prevent crucial action to address climate change.” The Gazette spoke with Geoffrey Supran, a research fellow in the History of Science, who, together with Naomi Oreskes, the Henry Charles Lea Professor of the History of Science, published a series of studies in recent years, the most recent one in May, on the climate communications of ExxonMobil, one of the world’s biggest oil and gas companies.

Q&A

Geoffrey Supran

GAZETTE: Tell me about your research on the oil and gas industry’s role in spreading climate disinformation.

SUPRAN: In 2017, I and Naomi Oreskes published a series of three papers focused on what you might call traditional climate-science denial by ExxonMobil. Then, in May of this year, we shifted gears slightly, releasing a new study looking at the company’s more subtle forms of climate propaganda.

GAZETTE: What kinds of issues do you suspect the House committee will find?

SUPRAN: In 2017, our research was the first peer-reviewed analysis of ExxonMobil’s 40-year history of climate-change communications. And what we discovered was that there were systematic discrepancies between, on the one hand, what Exxon and ExxonMobil scientists said about climate-science privately and in academic circles, versus what Exxon, Mobil, and ExxonMobil said to the general public in The New York Times and elsewhere. That analysis showed that ExxonMobil misled the public about basic climate science and its implications. They did so by contributing quietly to climate science, and loudly to promoting doubt about that science.

Our work and others’ in that area provides evidence for the committee, demonstrating ExxonMobil’s long history of attacking science and scientists in order to undermine and delay climate action. Our more recent work, this May, is an evolution of that study in that it focuses on how, beyond outright disinformation, ExxonMobil has used language to subtly but systematically shape the way the public thinks about climate change, often in misleading ways. That study demonstrates how the company has selectively emphasized some terms and topics in public while consistently avoiding others.

The takeaway message across all of our work is that over and over, ExxonMobil has misled the public about climate change by telling the public one thing and then saying and doing the opposite behind closed doors. Our latest work shows that while their tactics have evolved from outright, blatant climate denial to more subtle forms of lobbying and propaganda, their end goal remains the same. And that’s to stop action on climate change.

GAZETTE:So according to your findings, within the walls of ExxonMobil there was never any doubt about climate science. Is that right?

SUPRAN: Right, there was never the undue doubt that they promoted in public. In fact, behind closed doors and in academic circles, Exxon has known that its products would likely cause dangerous global warming since at least the 1970s. By way of its trade association, the American Petroleum Institute, the oil industry as a whole has been on notice even longer — since the 1950s.

Naomi Oreskes (pictured) and Geoffrey Supran’s new study looks at ExxonMobil’s subtle forms of climate propaganda.

Rose Lincoln/Harvard file photo

GAZETTE:What was the most disturbing finding from this hard look at ExxonMobil’s communications?

SUPRAN: A key contribution of our work has been demonstrating the systematic and statistically significant bias of ExxonMobil’s public communications toward denial and delay. But the most uncomfortable realization is how subtle and systematic and increasingly sophisticated their propaganda has become.

In our most recent work, we’ve had to rely on statistical techniques from computational linguistics to uncover patterns of speech hiding in plain sight. These include a systematic fixation on consumer energy demand rather than on the fossil fuels that the company supplies and the systematic representation of climate change as a “risk” rather than a reality. These are subtle patterns that, we’ve now realized, have been systematically embedded into climate discourse by ExxonMobil and other fossil fuel interests.

That’s particularly discomforting, because when you start to pull back the curtain you see just how sophisticated the oil industry’s propaganda machine has been, how easily their rhetoric has snuck into people’s consciousness and biased the way the public thinks about this. Mobil’s vice president and pioneer of PR in the ’70s and ’80s literally talked about what he called “semantic infiltration.” He called it “the process whereby language does the dirty work of politics.” And he said that the first “general principle” of PR was to, quote, “grab the good words … while sticking your opponents with the bad ones.” Our research now shows that’s exactly what they’ve been up to for decades.

GAZETTE: Have the oil companies stopped outright denying climate change? The subtle approach you talk about, is that all they’re doing now?

SUPRAN: From the mid-2000s through to the 2010s, ExxonMobil and other fossil-fuel companies gradually “evolved” their language, in the words of one ExxonMobil manager, from blatant climate denial to these more subtle and insidious forms of delayism. Another ExxonMobil manager described the effort by former company chairman and chief executiveRex Tillerson in the mid-2000s as an effort to “carefully reset” the company’s profile on climate change so that it would be “more sustainable and less exposed.” They did so by drawing straight from the tobacco industry’s playbook of threading a very fine rhetorical needle, using language about climate change just strong enough to be able to deny that they haven’t warned the public, but weak enough to exculpate them from charges of having marketed a deadly product.

So while their outright denial has tapered off, their propaganda hasn’t stopped. It’s in fact shifted into high gear and is now operating with a sophistication that we’ve never seen before. In our recent study, I mentioned the rhetoric of risk and individualized responsibility, but we also identified systematic use of language indicative of other what we call “discourses of delay,” such as greenwashing, fossil-fuel solutionism, technological optimism, and so on. These are now pervasive in industry marketing and, in turn, in the ways that the public and policymakers think and talk about the climate crisis.

To give just one example, did you know that the very notion of a personal carbon footprint — a concept that’s completely ubiquitous in discussions about personal responsibility — was first popularized by BP as part of a £74 million per year marketing campaign between 2004 and 2006?

They’ve also upgraded their tactics, moving from print advertorials to digital advertorials and microtargeted social media. Digital advertorials are ads presented to appear in the style of newspapers online and made for the oil companies by the newspapers themselves. They are the direct digital descendant of the print advertorials that Mobil pioneered in the ’70s through the 2000s, in part with their climate messaging.

“The takeaway message across all of our work is that over and over, ExxonMobil has misled the public about climate change by telling the public one thing and then saying and doing the opposite behind closed doors.”

GAZETTE:Did we get a sense as to how this happens? Are there company memos about phrasing and language, that kind of thing? Or is it still opaque?

SUPRAN: Proving intent is generally nontrivial, but all signs point to “Yes.” In terms of outright climate denial, we have smoking-gun documents that lay out in black and white Exxon’s intentions from the ’80s and ’90s to, in their words, “emphasize the uncertainty,” “extend the science,” and so on. In terms of delayism, we know, for example, that in 1981, Mobil internally reviewed its PR campaigns from the previous decade and celebrated how their advertorials in The New York Times had allowed them to become part of what they called “the collective unconscious” of the nation, as not only the general population but the Times editorial board had begun to shift their opinions in line with the company’s views. As I mentioned, the pioneer of Mobil’s advertorials, Herb Schmertz, also talked a lot about their public-affairs principles.

Beyond that, we don’t yet have the smoking-gun strategy documents for delay equivalent to the ones for denial. This is speculation, but part of the reason that we see propaganda mirrored so closely between different companies and different industries is because much of the time they work with the same PR firms and ad agencies. And so it could be that those memos lie in the file cabinets of PR firms rather than the oil companies themselves. That’s why there are now campaigns to hold those PR agents to account as well.

GAZETTE:This is kind of a horrible question to ask, but were you ever, despite yourself, impressed with the strategy and its effectiveness?

SUPRAN: Through our research, it has gradually dawned on me and my colleagues how central to the invention and advancement of modern propaganda the oil and gas industry has been over the last century. For me, coming from a physics and engineering background and retraining to work in this discipline, it’s been eye-opening and humbling to realize how much of the way we think and talk about this crisis has been encouraged and embodied by fossil-fuel-industry propaganda.

So I do recognize just how effective this industry’s public-affairs tactics have been. They’ve certainly undermined public concern and action on this crisis for decades. For my entire lifetime, in fact, the climate denial and delay machine has been in full swing. I’m not sure if “marvel” is the right word, but I’m very cognizant of the fact that I am part of the climate-change generation, born into a society locked into fossil fuels not for want of scientific understanding or technology or policy know-how, but because of the greed and disinformation and lobbying of a small group of fossil-fuel interests and conservative billionaires.

#Anglo.txt