#but at a base level he understands that the life he lives affords him the privilege of access very few people have across so many interests | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auras-moonstone · 3 months

Text

say don’t go — ethan landry

word count: 3.2k

pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader

based on: say don’t go by taylor swift

summary: ethan has to move to another state to play for his dream hockey team so he decides to break up with his girlfriend, leaving her heartbroken

warnings: angst. break-up. fluff.

author’s note: hiii! long fic bc of my absence:) LOVE writing about hockey player ethan 😫 by the way, i saw retribution the other day, i actually really liked it. it wasn’t as bad as people painted it.

Y/N AND ETHAN HAD BEEN DATING FOR ALMOST A YEAR, which meant that they knew each other like the back of their hands, hence why Y/N had the intuition that his boyfriend was planning on breaking up with her.

The distance started when Ethan was signed off to the Chicago Blackhawks. As soon as he finished college, he would move to Illinois and Y/N didn’t know where she would fit in his new life, if she would even fit. He hadn’t talked about it with her, he barely even mentioned hockey around her anymore. And she just knew—she would soon stop being part of his life and it was a matter of time until Ethan sat her down and tell her.

The waiting was sadness, and as the days flew by it was slowly driving her into madness. And then she finally got the text from him, asking her to go to his house. She drove there with a heavy heart, knowing it was going to be the last time she passed those streets.

Meanwhile, Ethan was pacing around his living room with a tight chest and tears threatening to leave his eyes. He did not want to do it, he had been pushing away the conversation because he wasn’t ready to let her go. He still wasn’t ready, but it was for the best.

When Y/N parked the car in his driveway and got out, she walked towards the entry with slow heavy steps. It was like standing in a tightrope—she held her breath so hard and felt like one wrong step might make her collapse to the ground. She didn’t want to reach the end of that metaphorical tightrope because nothing good was awaiting her on the other side. Yet, she had no choice, so with the knuckles of her shaky hands she knocked on the door.

Ethan stared at the door for a few seconds, and eventually ordered his body to open the door. He faced the most devastating sight—his girlfriend, standing there looking smaller than ever, with dark bags under her saddened eyes and wearing an expression of defeat. At first, he thought something had happened to her but the reluctance of meeting his eyes was enough to make him realize that she knew. She knew what was going on.

“Hi.” he said in a low pained voice. “Come in.”

She greeted him with just a nod and a pathetic attempt of a smile, aware that opening her mouth would just trigger the tears she was trying so hard to hold back. Y/N just wanted him to rip the bandaid off so she could walk back to her car and cry her heart out.

“Let’s sit on the couch.” he said, his heart breaking by her crest fallen state.

“Just say it, Ethan.” in her mind, the way the words left her mouth were harsh and sharp like a knife, but truth was, her voice reached the highest level of vulnerability. The pain in her voice was clear.

He swallowed down the knot in his throat. This was even more painful than he had imagined. “Y/N… I’m sorry.”

She hated herself for feeling the urge to wrap him in her arms and brush away his tears. He was the one tearing up the relationship, not the other way around.

“I don’t understand.” she frowned sadly, trying to make sense of the decision.

“I know you don’t… I just, I can’t do this anymore, Y/N/N. I’m going away, the first months are going to be rough. I need to show them they didn’t make a mistake when they chose me. I can’t afford any distractions” as soon as those last words left his mouth, he knew he fucked up.

Y/N flinched, and took a step back as if he had slapped her. “Oh, wow. That’s just the cherry on top, Ethan.”

“Shit, no. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Maybe you didn’t mean to say it, but it’s what you think. That I’m a distraction. That’s why you’re breaking up with me.”

It wasn’t that. She would never be a distraction—not the bad kind, at least—, but he couldn’t tell her the real reason why he was breaking things off. She would try to fight it, and that’s not what he wanted.

“No.” he sighed. “I just need to focus on doing my best, and I won’t have time for a relationship. I can’t just keep dating you when I can’t give you what you deserve.” he took a step closer, and cupped her cheek. “I don’t want you to hate me. Please don’t hate me, I really think this is for the best.”

“I just… why didn’t you tell me this sooner? These past few weeks were hell, I was constantly scared of this moment to come. It was agonising.”

“I was so selfish, I know. But I couldn’t let go, I wanted to spend a few more days with you. I didn’t know I was already hurting you.”

“You always knew you were going professional.” she whispered. “Did you always know you would break up with me in the end?”

“I didn’t expect to like you so much.” he said truthfully. “You know I didn’t do relationships, so I thought the thing between us would end way before I had to leave.”

“And you couldn’t have told me our relationship had an expiration date? Why’d you have to lead me on?”

“I… I don’t know, Y/N. I thought it was obvious that we couldn’t do long distance.”

Y/N’s scoff resonated in the room. “No, Ethan. It wasn’t fucking obvious. I thought we would try…”

“For what? These things never work. And with my schedule, I don’t see how this could not end in disaster. Why would we risk it?”

Y/N didn’t even contemplate it, and blurted out the words she had been meaning to say for a while “Because I love you…”

Ethan’s mind went blank, and he stood there in front of her completely speechless and frozen. He didn’t even noticed the way Y/N’s eyes got glossy, the way her hands shook or the anxious glances she threw his way.

Finally, Ethan fell on his butt on his couch and buried his face in his hands. It was painful, the way he wanted to say it back and the strength it took to restrain that urge. Ethan loved Y/N, and he knew perfectly well that she would follow him anywhere head first, but he just couldn’t let her do that. Her whole life was in New York, no matter if she was willing to let go of that for him, that wasn’t what Ethan wanted for her life. What if she ended up resenting him for allowing that?

Y/N didn’t know how long she stood there, waiting for him to say something, anything at all, but he wouldn’t even look at her. It was like twisting the knife he had already pierced her with, and she needed to get out of there. The silence was so loud she wanted to scream.

“Guess you didn’t like me that much.” she laughed a humourless laugh. Guess she was his, but he wasn’t hers. It sucks that she had to found out that way. “Good luck, Ethan. That team is lucky to have you, and I’m sure the coach will think so too. You’re going to do so well.”

And then she walked away, and a small part of her was hopeful he would suddenly react and say ‘Don’t go’. But he didn’t, and she had to hold back the tears until she was in the safety of her car, where Ethan wouldn’t be able to hear how much he had hurt her.

MONTHS FLEW BY, and Ethan was still being haunted by those three words and the way things had ended with Y/N. He was living his dream—he was part of an incredibly team, his teammates had been super welcoming, as well as the fans, and he managed to bond tightly with some of them, they were winning matches and the coach was delighted with his talent. He should be the happiest man on earth, but something was missing and he knew exactly what, or who.

Some of his teammates preferred to enjoy the female and male attention that being famous brought to play the field, and others were fully committed to their partners. And then, there was Ethan, who didn’t want to play the field and he had let go of his partner and only person his heart had belonged to. Missing her was painful, especially knowing it was all on him.

Y/N watched every single game of Ethan’s, not matter how overwhelming it was. She loved seeing him achieving his goals and dreams and felt beaten every time the team lost and she had to witness Ethan’s crestfallen face. She still loved him very much, and missing him was the hardest thing in the world.

But the fact that she missed his face didn’t mean she was ready to see him again, which was why the news hit her like a truck.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.” her teacher asked worriedly.

Tara looked at her with pity, knowing exactly the reason behind her weird reaction to something that was supposed to be an incredible opportunity. “She’s just shocked.”

“Oh.” the teacher smiled. “I assume you’re a fan of the Chicago Blackhawks, then.”

“Something like that.” the girl managed to say.

Apparently, one of the professors had contacts in the team and they managed to convince the coach to let two of Blackmore’s top marketing students work on a special project that involved the team’s publicity. And Y/N had been selected, which meant that he would be seeing her ex-boyfriend for the first time in six months in less than twenty four hours.

THERE WAS A MIX OF NERVOUSNESS AND ANXIOUSNESS IN THE LOCKER ROOM. Knees bounced and no words were uttered because of the uncertainty of the situation.

“Morning.” the coach spoke, exiting his office to stand in front of the team. Rolling his eyes, he let out a laugh then he said, “Unclench your asses, boys, there’s nothing wrong.”

“Why’d you ask us to come minutes early, then?” the captain asked.

“I just wanted to tell you that the following practices and games are going to be a bit different.” the team exchanged confused glances. “We’re having two marketing students present. They’re going to work on the team’s image as their final project for college.”

“Oh, cool. What’s the college?” Chad, goalie and Ethan’s closest friend, questioned.

“Blackmore University. It’s in New York. I have a friend working there and he asked me if I would be up to working with the students.”

Ethan’s hockey stick fell from his sweaty hand, landing on the ground with a resonating thud. Every pair of eyes landed on him, but his shocked face was focused on the wall.

“You okay, bud?” Chad asked, shaking his shoulder.

“W-what?” he blinked a couple of times, then shook his head. “Yes, sorry. I’m just- nothing.”

“You know the school? You’re from New York, right?” the captain asked.

“Yeah… I actually go there. I’m finishing the year online.” he answered.

“Oh, shit.” Chad said, eyes widening as the realization kicked in. “She goes there, right? Tell me she’s not in marketing.” but Ethan’s anxious eyes answered for him. “Well, fuck.”

“What’s going on?” Wes, another teammate, asked.

“My ex… she’s a marketing student. We broke up the night before I moved here.” Ethan said running his fingers through his hair.

“Let me guess, it did not end well.” Danny grimaced.

“It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.” Ethan began to explain everything about that night.

“Why didn’t you say it back?!” the coach asked as if it had been the juiciest gossip he had heard in years. “You didn’t love her?”

“Of course I loved her. Fuck, I still do. So fucking much. And I miss her like crazy, I’m just not ready to see her yet. She probably hates me and I still think of her everyday.”

Everyone looked at him with soft eyes. Ethan was like a golden retriever, and everyone had a soft spot for him despite having meeting him a few short months ago.

“But no matter how badly I want her back, I can’t. She lives in New York, and I live here.” he sighed. “I’m probably overreacting, though, maybe she’s not one of those two students.”

“Well, you’re about to find out because they are already here.” coach said, looking at the text he had received. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t hard for the team to realize that Ethan’s ex was there. The two teenagers couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, and the tension was obvious to everyone in that rink.

“So, what are we doing, bosses?” Chad asked Tara and Y/N once the introductions were made.

“Well, Y/N had this idea and I think is amazing.” Tara said, tilting her head at Y/N urging her to go on.

“You’re probably going to hate me.” Y/N started, which was followed by some Oh, god’s and groans. “So I thought we should focus on Tik Tok. Not only is the most popular app right now, but hockey players are super trending there.”

“Why?” the captain frowned in confusion.

Tara and her exchanged smirks. “Hockey rom-coms.” they said in unison.

“Of course.” the words left Ethan’s mouth unconsciously and followed by a deep laugh, remembering when he would catch Y/N giggling and swooning over fictional hockey players.

The beautiful sound went straight to Y/N’s chest. Even though part of her still resented the way he had left her, she couldn’t help but smile. At that moment, the feeling of having missed him was stronger than the hurt and sadness of their break-up.

Two minutes within his presence and she was already a mess. She didn’t know how she was going to survive getting used to being so close to him again, only to board a plan in a few days and go back to just daydream about him. She was already dreading to go back to New York, a place that didn’t feel like home anymore.

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MONTHS, Ethan lived his victory with pure ecstasy and happiness. Winning always felt good, but he never got to enjoy it fully because he had no family to celebrate it with. But now, even though it was not for him, Y/N was there in the stands. She was clapping and cheering with Tara, and when her eyes connected with his, he swore he was levitating.

“Hey…” Y/N said when he and Chad skated towards them. “Congratulations, guys. You were amazing as always.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Chad smiled. “We needed that victory after the last match.”

“Don’t beat yourself up for that. That referee sucked. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the team bribed him.” Y/N shrugged.

Ethan looked at her in surprise. “You watch our games?”

Y/N blushed and cursed herself internally. “Uh, yeah. Anyways,” she cleared her throat. “Are you going to celebrate?”

“We usually go to a bar after a victory. You’re very invited, of course. Drinks on us, you’ve been doing an amazing job in our social media.” Chad said.

“Told you. Miss Y/N is a marketing genius.” Tara pinched her cheek, making the girl squeal.

“She is.” Ethan said with a proud smile. And fuck if it didn’t make Y/N want to kiss him.

“We’ll drive you. You can go with me and Y/N can go with Eth.” Chad and Tara shared knowing glances.

“Perfect.” Ethan spoke up before Y/N could object. He gave her the keys to his car. “I’m going to take a quick shower, you can wait there.”

After a couple of minutes, Ethan climbed into the driver’s seat “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yes. It was insane!” she said with an enthusiastic grin. “I’m really happy for you, Eth. You’re living your dream.”

Ethan forced a smile. “Yeah.”

Y/N frowned. “Well, don’t sound so thrilled. What’s wrong? You looked very happy out there.”

“I was. I mean, I am happy. For the first time since I played here, I can truthfully say I’m the happiest.”

“Why? You have won before.”

“Because it’s the first time I get to share my victory with someone I love.” he looked at her with bright eyes. “Every game, I would look at the crowd, hoping to see you there, cheering for me with my number on your back. But you never were, until today. And I have never felt so on top of the world.”

Y/N stared at him dumbfounded. “Eth… fuck. That’s… I- I watched every game. I’m so fucking proud of you. And I would’ve been here, you know that. But you left me.”

“I know.”

“I would’ve stayed forever if you’d said don’t go. I would’ve followed you everywhere. I told you I loved you, and you said nothing back.”

“I loved you, too. And if you hadn’t noticed yet, I still do. My dream had always been playing professional hockey, but ever since you walked into my life, you became part of that dream. I wouldn’t be happy without hockey, but being without you? It feels fucking void. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, I should’ve never let you go.”

“Why did you?”

“You have your family in New York, you have friends, you were about to finish the degree you’d worked so hard for… I couldn’t be selfish to ask you to come with me.”

“It would’ve been selfish to force me to come. But ask? That’s what you should’ve done. We could’ve talked about it. But you didn’t even fight for us, you made your choice and didn’t let me do the same.”

“I was scared you would’ve chosen to come with me, and then regret it and hate me for it.” he confessed, eyes glossing with tears.

“Babe, I could never hate you.” she said softly, brushing his dump hair away from his forehead. “You know what my decision would have been?” Ethan shook his head as he grabbed her hand. “I would’ve told you I could finish online. I would’ve told you that my family isn’t going anywhere, and that I could still visit them. I would’ve told you my friends and I would still be able to text everyday. And above all, that you’re the love of my life. That I want to be cheering for you on the stands with your number on my back. And then, depending on how the match goes, we’d go celebrate together or cuddle as I reassure you that everyone has bad games and you’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen.”

Ethan didn’t know it was possible to fall harder, but there he was. “Do you still want that?” he asked hopeful.

“More than anything in the world.” she pressed her forehead against his and they both smiled. “I missed you horribly. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”

“God, me neither. I’m keeping you forever.” he gave her a soft kiss. “You’re moving in with me.” another kiss. “I’m going to marry you.” another kiss. “We’re going to have kids.” another kiss. “And we’re going to grow old together.”

“I love you so much. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard and I can’t wait to live that life with you.”

347 notes · View notes

portraitoftheoddity · 1 year

Text

Trigun: Stampede, Wolfwood, and Food

So, I think a major part of any worldbuilding should always involve food, and where it comes from. The worldbuilding around No Man's Land in Trigun: Stampede is a little tricky in this regard, since there's shown to be no real agriculture or plant life (Meryl's utter shock at the "flora" on Ship Three as a total foreign phenomenon suggests it's more rare than in the manga) so sustainable human-friendly food sources are rare and not really addressed. We see characters eating worms, and presumably there's whatever it is worms eat, and beyond that, it's suggested that pretty much all of humankind's nutrition comes from plants.

The desert dudes living off worm meat refer to "plant-based food" as an "extravagance" in the opening scene of episode 4 (aptly named "Hungry"). Meryl, by contrast, is grossed out by the idea of eating worm meat -- I think we can infer then, that Meryl, being a college-educated city girl, probably had regular access to Plant-generated food, while Outlanders are more dependent on alternative sources of nutrition.

Wolfwood, I think, falls closer to the latter category -- He's very used to eating worms, as we see in this episode, not even flinching at grabbing and devouring a whole worm, and even smoked dried worm legs as a kid in a later flashback, so supplementing his diet and other aspects of his life with worms is probably something he's used to doing for survival:

And I gotta say, the way Wolfwood antagonizes the others about eating worm-based food?

Yeah, it's a power play in some respects -- he's making a point to Vash about 'kill or be killed' to survive when he catches and throws a worm at him, and he's taunting Meryl to get a rise out of her with the roasted worm meat at the end of the episode.

But there's something very "Gross Big Brother" about it -- he's antagonizing them, but there's also some underlying level of care in it. He is showing Vash how Wolfwood thinks it's necessary to survive; he's bullying Meryl into eating the food that's available, because Wolfwood probably grew up with the understanding that you couldn't afford to turn your nose up at whatever food you got.

It's food, it's there, it's a valuable and scarce resource, and as much of an asshole as Stampede!Wolfwood is, he has those ingrained big brother instincts to look out for those around him. And food is an important part of that, because when you live with scarcity, food is life.

The whole bit with Zazie in disguise might be a charade (assuming Wolfwood already clocked Zazie from the get-go and it didn't take the worm devouring them for that card to be revealed) but it still pulls from Wolfwood's characterization in the '98 anime where he gives two of his last pieces of food to a couple of hungry-looking kids:

And the sentiment of "you still deserve to eat" as an expression of care is still real for him, especially given his smile when Vash repeats his words, finally eating some of the worm meat at the end of episode four:

Our worldbuilding implication is that food is scarce and rare in the Outlands, and Wolfwood is someone who knows how to survive by any means possible -- including eating whatever is available -- which is something he's nonetheless willing to share with others, because at his core he's a decent person who isn't as selfish as he may pretend to be.

And food is one hell of a love language.

#trigun stampede #trigun spoilers #food cw #nicholas d wolfwood #meta #lena has thoughts #lena's trigun nonsense

689 notes · View notes

bananaproved · 1 year

Text

“Jin Guangyao would rather bow than die, Nie Mingjue would rather die than bow” is such an interesting line because it really puts in perspective the fundamental divide between these two.

-> The first thing is that, it's not just that JGY would rather bow, it's that he cannot die and he cannot quit so he must bow, as many times as necessary to guarantee his own survival. He cannot die because the most important thing for him in his life is his mother and his life goal is to realize his mother's wishes. If he dies, he cannot accomplish what she wanted for him and by doing so he would betray all the effort she put in raising him in adversity and teaching him all of what she knew. Another important element is also that if he dies, there will be no one to remember him or his mother (tho for him it depends on the times of his life, but even when he is Sect Leader Jin, outside of himself, who would remember Meng Shi ?). "Bowing" is considered to be the less honorable way to get through difficult situations, when dying would be the honorable way, but in his case, for most of his life, he is already considered to be at the lowest level of honor possible just by being born, so he has no honor to protect with his death and everything to gain by doing anything he can to survive.

-> On the other hand, if we look at NMJ perspective, there are actually good reasons for him to consider that if he is in a situation where he has to choose, he cannot choose to bow and if it is the only two options he must choose to die. NMJ cannot bow because his main motivations and the most important things in his life are his sect and his family. If he bow and thus choose the "less honorable" option, he is putting shame not simply on himself but also on his entire sect and all of his ancestors. In his case and if he has no choice, dying is a better option because all of his actions since he became sect leader at something like 16 will reflect directly on the sect and an honorable death is better than a shameful survival. Obviously he would prefer to live as protecting his sect is so important to him, but faced with a choice he cannot destroy all of what his ancestors worked for by showing that the Nie sect accept to bow, to lie or to betray for their own interest, so he have to die.

It builds a really interesting opposition between them because JGY cannot afford to die because his name means nothing and NMJ cannot afford to bow because his name is known to everybody. The fact that they are really similar in their absolute dedication to their family make it more tragic that NMJ never was able to understand JGY's perspective on survival. Framing it as a choice is also interesting because if we look into it, it is perceveid by society as one, but based on who they are and what they must do, they have really little to say on the matter.

#jin guangyao #nie mingjue #mdzs #mdzs meta #tbh i think both perspectives are legit and justified by who they are #if anything it show they are living in a shitty system #where reputation classism and social rules will shape the entire lives of individuals

150 notes · View notes

i-need-a-slurpee · 3 months

Text

You guys already know I love spreading my akekita besties agenda

I saw someone post a video about a little porcelain figure they found and it was a crow in a big straw hat and a sweater and behind the crow was several different easels. The person filming the video dubbed the porcelain figure 'vincent van crow' so you see where I'm going with this. (Btw this is an AU where Akechi lives and he works with the phantom thieves because they can see he needs help and they're going to give him that help whether he wants it or not. Canon be damned.)

Akechi and Yusuke walking around different shops because yusuke needs new art supplies and guess who they find sitting on a shelf tucked away behind some miscellaneous items like mason jars and small vases of different dull colors. Vincent Van Crow. Akechi saw him first and thought Yusuke would appreciate the little porcelain figure, unaware of the artist's terrible spending habits. Yusuke would feel the same connection to Vincent Van Crow that he did with his lobsters and abandon the original mission just to buy him, insisting it was destiny. A crow that was a fellow artist, the only one on the shell and who better to point it out to him but Akechi himself.

Despite Akechi's protests that Yusuke's funds are limited and he should focus on finding the supplies for whatever new piece he was working on (it was a watercolor painting, several paintings, of the various different places in the backstreets where lebanc resided) Yusuke insists on buying him. Akechi doesn't quite understand how Yusuke can have such a sentimental attachment to an object he doesn't own yet but he can't afford to argue any longer because he'll lose his cool.

It isn't until they've finished their shopping and are walking back to the train station that he starts to really get it. Not because he had given the porcelain crow any thought but because Yusuke declared that this small, breakable and frankly unimpressive (to akechi at least) figure was a sign of their bond. A representation of different facets of their personalities and how despite the fact that nobody really understood it, Yusuke and Akechi made sense together.

On paper it was strange, an aloof artist and the famous detective prince but looking past the surface gave a glimpse into why they worked so well together. Yusuke was honest, brutally honest he never censored himself because he didn't see the point in doing so, he looked for a deeper meaning in everything which made sense since all art has some meaning behind it. It's second nature for him to evaluate everything he saw on a deeper level. Akechi appreciated having someone like Yusuke in his life because he never worried that Yusuke was using him like everyone else had. Yusuke's unrelenting honestly was a breath of fresh air for akechi, and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself in the beginning he could never fully believe that Yusuke's honesty was an act. He was too genuine and his perceptive abilities made him see past the act Akechi would often put on.

In turn Akechi was very critical, he had to be as a detective, and he was constantly aware of his surroundings. He always kept a look out for any danger and covered all his bases to make sure he could keep himself safe. Which was something Yusuke appreciated because he would often get lost in thought and wander off to various different places because they piqued his interest, he couldn't stay on task like Akechi could.

They helped each other and the time they spent together was time well spent, numerous discussions of various topics being viewed from two different lens. But they still managed to consider the other's position in their discussions, Yusuke would consider the analytical mindset that Akechi had and Akechi would pay more attention to the finer details and emotional aspects of a situation like Yusuke did. It was an odd but wonderful friendship they had.

So on the train ride back to their homes, Akechi considered the porcelain crow and his porcelain easels, the shine of his feathers and the way his beak twisted into a sweet smile and he felt a small warmth fill his heart. Warmth at the thought that his friend, his real friend that he had made on his own, would keep that small crow on a shelf or a table and think of him whenever he saw it. Warmth because he wasn't alone anymore, he was wanted by the people around him. Wanted enough for his friend to buy an insignificant trinket that put an extra expense on his limit supply of money just because it reminded him of the detective. Warmth because he was loved.

Your honor that's their son, they coparent him for tax benefits

#kitagawa yusuke #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #yusuke kitawaga #yusuke p5 #akechi goro #akekita #goro akechi #akechi p5 #headcanon

22 notes · View notes

scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

Text

Loveless - (30)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

Pairing: Attuma x Okoye

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: none

---

Chapter 30

Hands. There was always something special about them. Eyes conveyed emotion but hands, they always reassured intention. Having been a warrior and the general of the Dora Milaje, she was well versed with all the pain they could cause. Her fingers and palms had scratches, scars and callouses from carrying weapons. She had often used her hands for war and to inflict hurt by targeting someone's defenses. She remembered the nights she spent tending to bruised knuckles but never had she ever dreamt about a moment like now. Walking through the crowd, people zoning down on her face to read her expressions but her fingers, they were reaching for him. He threw her a side long glance, a sly smirk under his mask. No one was aware of the child-like fight they had going on. One trying to surpass the other by holding onto their hand longer, while the other tried to wiggle out of their grasp, all while making sure to keep themselves from breaking into fits of laughter.

Shadows were the place they could gather now, it had been great until her husband resurfaced. Now the pressure loomed around her, everyone she met had made it a point to remind her that he was around. Just when she had seen through his lies and found the ability to finally move on. Society demanded differently, carrying a new mantle meant she had to play by the rules, to keep pretences alive. She had already burnt herself by caring too much, she cannot afford to lose her position again. But as she watched Attuma pull tricks with the king of the hidden empire and when Namor thanked her for being there for his knight. There was a distinction between were duty ended and where life began.

She had begun to understand that their hierarchy was based on family and never on the roles they played. All she wanted now was not to feel disposable, that after giving everything, she cannot be cast away. So it only made sense to try and balance out the new changes, to not focus too much on what she wanted. She felt at ease, leaving Shuri in the hands of the Talokan king, her instinct felt calm knowing well that he would protect her with his life. Having given time to enjoy, they both navigated the crowd, trying to find things to do. It was clear neither had a plan.

She lived her life on strategy and protocol, but as he walked next to her, his large frame reminding her that she didn’t had to always be on guard. That she could live in the moment to regain the youth she had lost. He had let down his hair, long tresses that touched his collar bone, his skin accentuated by his grey leather. He looked softer than his usual appearance. As she trailed up to catch a glimpse of his profile, she got caught. His eyes were on her, a confident smile greeting her as he looked away. “Do you perhaps like what you see?”, he asked.

“Maybe.”, she smiled. She was dressed as she would be always, she loved the simplicity. The familiarity, the easiness with having to be herself.

What did she have to prove?

But as she snuck a glance at him again. His prominent nose illuminated by the light surrounding them, his lush lips delineating her thoughts. Maybe she could have put in a little effort. Maybe deep down, she did harbor a desire to want things. But navigating all this was difficult. It didn’t feel like herself, to indulge in teenage fantasies or form crushes. Her level headed nature only proved to be a downside in this situation. She could never be that woman again. The one that looked for gestures and obsessed over words of recognition. She had finally found her footing, her inner world had stabilized, she was who she was. Going out of her way to topple this peace all over a man felt frivolous. But then again. She felt her index finger brush up against his. She wanted him to know how she felt. That she was glad he was here. That if he wasn’t, the vaccum he left in her life would be devastating, too disastrous to come up with a contingency plan.

Ever since W'Kabi had resurfaced, whatever that was budding in between them had become strained. She retreated behind her walls again and he didn’t know how to help her. But her soft touches and secret smiles, let him know the true feelings her eyes kept hidden. It was off putting, that all his life, he only had one purpose. To protect the throne, to protect the kingdom. He had never had plans for himself, he abandoned his farm, left his home, had always been on the move from one point to another that when all that urgency to keep fighting stopped with the agreement of the alliance. He realized he had nothing to go back to. And yet at the same time, he had a new purpose, to be a shoulder to lean on.

He caught her hand and she eased into his touch. He had a chance now, to build something for himself. Something for his own heart to live in. But the timing of all of this felt out of pace. He cannot bombard her with his affection, because what he meant for good will only turn out to suffocate her instead. But his yearning and longing only made all the proximity even more painful. That he watched her get hurt and all he could do was to simply be there. Pet. That man’s words echoed in his mind. He was everywhere. In the people around him, in the places she worked, a constant reminder, reminding him that she could never be his and his dreams were only getting built up to be broken. He felt the eyes on him, the whispers around them. Making it look like they were a scandal, while his heart was bleeding out for her. This was a test he wasn’t prepared for, one that could not be fixed by his expertise with his weapon or his intimidating outfits.

The attention was too much. She pulled away from him. She would only take him down with her. Her reputation had already been tarnished. She had lost the princess, she betrayed the queen, she gave up on her husband. It stung her, all their rumours and the days she spent walking around the markets pulling down her hood as a way to hide away. It hurt her that she had to move away, that she knew she was giving him all the wrong signals, giving him hope for a future she couldn’t promise. The lightness with which she exited the room with him had now plummeted, the spring in her step lost with the spiralling thoughts, she was losing her footing. But the more she moved away, the more he lingered close to her. He didn’t throw a fit, his breathing calm as ever, his eyes steady, always wanting to know what was on her mind. “Attuma.”, she whispered, a caution brimming in her mind.

“You can’t be seen with me.”, she told him, to which he inhaled deeply.

“They will tarnish your name too.”, he stood next to her, his hands clasped behind his back. So that’s what this was about. He exhaled, he began to understand her torment. The sky looked a bit clearer now, he felt a hearty laugh make it’s way through his chest. This needed more than a friend to be around. She needed someone who would stay. So as she shrunk into the corner, overwhelmed by the crowd around her, he placed his hand in the middle of her back.

Society had a lot to say about him over many years of his life. He's too soft. He's too arrogant. He’s this or he’s that. He knew how it felt but it was a fight he had conquered.

“I don’t care about what they have to say.”, he told her. He knew how if you allowed it, you can turn to hate yourself for errors that you didn’t have to be condemned by.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”, he asked and saw the conflict on her face. She looked around, mesmerized by the excitement around her. Something that she wasn’t allowed to fully enjoy.

“I don’t want them to know they’ve won.”, she confided in him, her gaze distant. “if I left, he has won again.”, her shoulders slumped.

He can’t win again. She had given up all of it, she had fought for her freedom, but the keys to her independence was never in her hands. His resurgence only highlighted that all this time, the power never resided with her. He was always in control of the narrative.

“Who said anything about leaving?”, he smirked and she sunk into the warmth his hand spread through her lower back, his pinky finger almost touching her skin. One touch to have her be undone. The magic spread around them again. That somehow the words and whispers that swirled about died down, giving W’Kabi the space in her mind felt she was rooting for her own failure. The only way she could combat that now was to replace all the memories of him with the ones she could make with the man who stood in front of her. Today was her day. One without constraints to do as she pleased. She may not be part of the Dora Milaje now but their values carried on through her. So she had jurisdiction everywhere.

She straightened her back, his smile growing wider. “So what are we going to do?”, she asked and he looked away to chart a path through the crowd, his hand dropping lower to circle around her waist, her skin was set on fire now.

He shielded her, navigating her through it to a spot he had found before, one he wanted to bring her to long before.

“We are going to take things slow.”, he stood in front of a house that was two storey tall. The speciality of it being the exposed fire escape. By the looks of it, the house was shrouded in darkness, it’s inhabitants probably busy in the festival. She folded her arms, she was contemplating.

“This is a private property.”, she commented. He was busy fixing his belt, “So?”, he asked.

She chuckled, one of disbelief. “So? We will be caught for trespassing.”, she gapped at him to which he raised his eyebrows as though he knew about it.

It was an easy climb, one both of them could do in their sleep. He drew closer to her. “No, it’s called espionage.”, he said dramatically. She rolled her eyes.

“We’re getting to a better vantage point.”, he continued, “to keep watch over the crowd.”, he waved his hand. The logic seemed right, he could see her mind mull over his words.

“We’ve been bound by rules our whole life.”, he spoke softly, her eyes snapping to his as though he had hit a weak link.

“I think we can afford to break this one.”, he pursed his lips. But now he wasn’t going to let her think this through. He wasn’t going to let the voices in her head stop her from having a fun night.

He placed his hands on her hips, “Wh- What are you doing?”, she stuttered. Her hands resting on his chest, her tension gave way to laughs as she commanded him to put her down. Today he was rebel. He had enough of the society he afforded to be in dictate his life.

“I’m giving you a lift.”, he said innocently.

Hands, she was now entangled in his arms. And time stopped to feel real, as she heard the rumble in his chest, the gleam of his skin and the mischief in his eyes. As much as she tried to not be a teenager, he always made her feel like one. His biceps were taut as he lifted her off the ground, making her feel that he could withstand everything that could come their way. W’Kabi had always used his touches to assert and remind her of the control he held over her. A grip on her shoulder, a whisper in her ear, a hold over her wrist. Just the very thought of him sent shivers down her spine, not the good kind.

But somehow, her averse reaction to people breaking through her personal space did not necessitate a similar response with him. She wanted to pull closer, let his hands wander, as she felt the smooth leather beneath her fingers.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to climb up the ladder.”, he smirked, her senses brought down to reality.

“I can hold you forever.”, he whispered and she cleared her throat reaching for the ladder. Her mind cleared of every thought expect for his lingering touch and gaze. She began to climb, the closer she got to the empty terrace, the faster her heart began to beat.

She got over the parapet and dusted her hands. He pulled himself up and steadied his stance. The beauty of this spot was it’s well established position. No one could spot it from the ground but from here…

“Unbelievable.”, she exclaimed as the view caught her attention. He felt his cheeks grow warmer, “I told you we didn’t have to leave.”, he said slowly.

The terrace overlooked the busy market that was alive with the music and the thrill of the festival. You could witness every event but the chatter was subdued to gibberish murmurs, none of it could affect them now.

“Okoye.”, he called for her kindly. She hummed, her gaze fixed on the scene ahead of her.

“I know, with your husband’s return.”, he got closer to her as she stood by the parapet. She turned to him.

“It puts us at odds.”, he took a pause, wondering if this was the right decision.

All his life he had been taken advantage of, for his heart and soul that he gave away without an after thought. It only left him with the pain of having to put himself back together, making him feel that having given the best version of himself, it still wasn’t enough. As much as he was there for everyone else, no one chose to be there for him. He heaved a sigh.

“Do I have a chance?”, he asked before he stopped himself from doing so. He needed to know if she saw him in that light. If she still wanted him around.

She had forgotten to breath. The tenderness in his eyes, they had been enemies once. She had know W’Kabi throughout her youth and never once had he looked at her like this. His ink black hair looked as though the dark sky had dripped over him. She didn’t have the words to put into paragraphs to tell him how much his presence had mattered. From being warriors to friends who confided secrets. Their life was brutal, having to always be of service even when it demanded too much out of them. She had loved and lost and now was at the edge of losing something again if she chose to be stuck in the past. So she had to decide.

“It’s never been a contest, Attuma.”, she took his hands, hers looking tiny in his. He shuffled his feet, his eyes not meeting hers.

“But if it was”, she drew closer to him.

“I crowned you the winner a long time ago.”, his eyes snapped to hers, his disappointment turning into merry bliss. He nodded his head as he took in her answer, his skin coming alive to shine a vibrant blue.

“You”, he cusped her cheek. “are truly”, he braced her neck. “one of a kind.”, he placed his forehead on hers, her nose touching his.

“Now don’t go soft on me, hammerhead.”, she smiled.

“You promised me a night of breaking rules.”, she patted his cheek as he laughed.

“Right.”, he straightened himself as he fished for something from his satchel.

Cards, he found a comfortable spot on the floor and she took a seat next to him. The print on the element in his hands looked different with Mayan symbols.

“We used to play it all the time. But now it’s got a little twist.”, his eyes shimmered with glee.

“It's simple, place a card with a higher value and you get to ask a question.”, he shuffled the deck.

“If the symbols match, then it’s a dare.”, he looked at her.

“If the colors match, then it’s a truthful answer.”, he dealt a batch of cards between him and her.

She took her batch and arranged it within her fingers, shielding it from him.

“You look confident.”, he remarked.

“I’m always confident.”, she shrugged her shoulder. Only she knew this was a game she always lost, but he didn’t have to know that.

He placed the first card, she took her time to choose one from her deck. She picked one and placed it. Same color. She could ask him a question for an answer.

“Did you have a past lover?”, she asked. He knew, she had been curious about it for awhile and it was only fair. She shared her past with him and if he sought a future with her, he too had to open up.

“I did.”, he tapped the cards on his arm.

“But she didn’t show up to the altar on our wedding day.”, he clicked his tongue.

“She had fallen in love with someone else.”, he said it easily now, only because he spent years trying to process it. Now it stung a little less. But he saw the anguish in her eyes, and his pain felt seen.

“Sorry.”, she said softly.

“It's not your fault.”, he gave her a half smile.

A bombshell. His truth and his past. She watched him view his cards but she was still reeling from the fact that his pain was much more painful than hers. She knew that through their toxic relationship, W'Kabi returned her love in some small scale. But to wait for someone to pledge your forever to and them never coming, felt much sadder.

They both had dealt with failed marriages and in some sense that common ground seemed much more important than anything else.

It was his turn, he placed a higher number than hers, the symbols matched. He grinned, she gulped. He seemed to already know what he wanted.

“Show me the tattoo you keep well hidden.”, he told her and her throat ran dry. The cards almost slipped from her hand, he did have this planned. Her mind was racing when she understood his ploy behind this, he was trying to rattle her. He had to know by now that she would never leave a completion without winning it. She was going to take control of this situation. They were sitting side by side, so she put down her cards and turned to him. She pulled down the neck of her top, a worthy bait for a stellar shark, to reveal the line of tattoos over her collarbone.

“A Dwennimmen, for strength.”, she explained.

“An Akofena, for courage.”, his eyes traced the length of her neck as he hummed in response.

“A Wawa aba, for resilience.”, he reached to touch her and she let him.

“The last one, an Eban, for safety.", she found his eyes. His thumb traced over the pattern but all she felt was the tension between them. The air turning warmer, her hands only wanting to trail the width of his shoulders.

“Impressive.”, he commented, his focus on her darkened and this cold night had turned into a summer haze. He leaned away only then she realized she hadn’t, so she sat back. Her mind racing to make a comeback, it was only fair that he be flustered too. She searched her deck of cards and found only one that could be placed with matching symbols and a higher number. It meant that she only had one chance at this. So she took it, placed the card to toss him a dare. One that will allow her to fulfill her longtime desire. He awaited her challenge, but this wasn’t going to be one.

“I want to touch your hair.”, she said slowly and his eyes widened.

Very innocent. He asked his with a particular mischievous intent but this seemed harmless. “Alright.”, he conceded.

But he should have known, how she was going to play it. Because she supported herself by placing a hand on his shoulder and flung her leg over his torso to settle over his abdomen. Straddling the sides of his body between her legs. She smoothed out his shirt as his hands shot out to stablise her, his head reaching a high with the desire that sped through his body. The hold she had over him was inexplicable to explain. She placed her palms on his cheeks to steady his face but all he could feel was his heart in his throat. She slowly sunk his fingers into his hair and he was sure he had entered heaven. He was under the spell of her touch.

She had sacrificed the beauty of her hair for the throne. In it’s place she replaced it with tattoos but it was her secret insecurity. She could never run her fingers through long hair or envision how it might feel. But now, she felt a different hunger, watching him unravel under her touch, she only leaned closer, feeling the silkiness with which his hair strands escaped her fingers, like ink running through her hand. She let go and his closed eyes popped open with a certain intensity in it, his tenderness now replaced with vigour as he sat up with a grunt. His eyes searched hers and all they both felt was this, need. This want. They had been denied of love and companionship because the people they had once chosen failed to understand their ties to their duty. Having them feel less than adequate to yearn for simple pleasures. Having had enough of pretences and barriers, she watched as he reached for his mask.

“No, you need that to breath.”, she panicked as he drew a deep breath. His finger over the clasp, with a hiss it let go of his face. He pulled it away to reveal his well shaped lips, shimmering under moonlight with traces of water over it.

“No, I only need you.”, he said quickly and watched as her eyes widened. He didn’t have time to lose, he pulled her close till his lips found hers.

Soft and rapid, he moved with an intensity that lit up a fire in the pit of her stomach. He kept going till he found his limit, his hands roaming the expanse of her back. Her fingers working through the buttons of his shirt as she opened it. His chest laid vast and solid with the racing rhythm of his heart under her palm. He hadn’t opened his eyes but she could sense his kisses slowly doing, his body needing oxygen filtered through his mask. She pulled away and he grumbled not letting her go, to pull her back to place a small peck after which he begrudgingly put on his mask.

He gasped for air as she slumped on his exposed chest breathing fast to catch her breath. His arms wrapped around her frame as she rose and fell with the pattern of his breathing. She could listen to the thump beneath his chest, that roared with life full of wondrous strength. She felt a soft shake, a reverb from the base of his throat and soon he laughed, the sound one of pure joy as though he could afford no other reaction. She held tight to him, never wanting to leave and go deal with the mess that awaited her in the streets, she couldn't resist the touch of happiness he brought her, she joined in, her laugh combining with his like they were two teenagers. If having crushes and falling in love felt like this, then she didn't mind.

She caressed his cheek and he leaned into her touch, his gaze soft like sunset hour bliss, the ocean seemed to have answered all her tears by conjuring him from it's depths. She tucked his hair behind his ear as he rubbed her back. Hands were where the magic lay hidden, she didn't need words. He was the one hindered by the mask, not her. So she kissed him, his cheeks, his forehead, the length of his neck. He squirmed under her, laughing, his joy lighting her life with an incandescent glow, he had grown on her and now she was a lake covered with his incessant water lilies blooming and ushering in new life. He had to be loved with the same intensity he loved the people around him.

She didn't stop, her hands sliding up his neck, he finally managed to hold her by her cheeks to pull her away. He had tears wetting his eyes as he crinkled them from laughing too hard. Lost in their gaze with no need for paragraphs and poetry or confessions, it was all here already.

He pulled her close as she tucked her head beneath his chin while his arms crisscrossed over her, shielding her from all the chaos. He was her safe space. They heaved a sighed together, crickets singing along to the soft music as fireflies animated the starry sky. There was peace.

"I am for once glad that he did not show up.", Attuma spoke as he chuckled and the calm around them suddenly felt eerie. It was too serene, right before when a storm hit. She got up, her eyebrows knitting together just as her heart disappeared into a pit of anxiety. She was away from her post, away from the princess. "He always shows up.", she said, Attuma's face mirroring her panic as he pulled her close cradling her away as the dark sky turned orange.

The explosion tore through the silence as he shielded her. The screams squeezed her stomach, breaking their little paradise, because all she thought of now was that the princess was in danger, her people were in danger, her mind hijacked with paranoia. He helped her up to her feet as he wiped the dust from her forehead.

"Duty calls.", he expanded his weapon and so did she.

---

🎶My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand.

My house of stone, your ivy grows

Now I'm covered in you.🎶

Christmas week has been hectic but I didn't want to leave you hanging, wishing you all a Merry Christmas 💖💖💖

Tags:

@mazune @lilsadb-itch @orlandoblumhouseofguccimane @hypernhappy @elmush @paperback-writer0807 @sirenbeloved @aslutforscarletwitch99 @gotship123456 @girlymusiclover09 @hoeforsuk @plutosundercoverking @championofthegalaxy @theheartofgrey @wonderkimi-chat @theamericanjewitch @amillylove20 @goldshawty1001 @lvnamiller @euphoricjupiter @queenoffantasyland @terrab3 @dumbbcam @1000heartbeats @agirlwithwinter @fartdart25 @wxnderstruck @sheisbrunetteworld @ijustwanttopasstime @namurii @presidentlokiluvrsblog @itgetzweird08 @littlepadika-main @did-i-ask-no @sorandomfangirl @babybubastis @denise-huxxtable @mhj-url @yippeeki-yah @darlingdandridge @gervi86 @geeyooo @therealoutereffect @notredamneit @Ilevame-a-la-lunaa @queen-of-knowhere @deluluzone @sheontcare @jupiter9545 @fandomsleaveuemotionallyscarred @too-many-atoms @lavenderhazel95 @33shadowhunters @enmuswife3 @serpensastrum @c0vidtest @luthientinu @urlocallsimp

#okoye x attuma #attuma #general okoye #okoye #shuri x namor #queen shuri #shuri black panther #shuri #namor x shuri #tenoch huerta namor #namor #mcu namor #alex livinalli #danai gurira

84 notes · View notes

dolphin1812 · 9 months

Text

I love the return to shoes as a marker of class here! While Marius faced the issue of clean vs dusty shoes (making it difficult for him to go to parties outside of winter, as it was impossible for him to walk without getting his shoes dirty and he couldn't afford a carriage), the Jondrettes - being worse off - are dealing with the issue of shoes vs no shoes. Interestingly, shoes are less comfortable here, not more. Mlle Jondrette's reasons are understandable, though. Wearing ill-fitting, wet shoes has to be uncomfortable. Her father, though, has a point about shoes as a marker of acceptability; just as Marius couldn't go to a party with dirty shoes for fear of rejection, the Jondrettes face the much graver issue of being tossed out of churches if they go barefoot. And based on the fact that the shoes are men's shoes, there's a good chance that M Jondrette is the only one with shoes and that the others just use them when necessary, suggesting that they can't all go to church at once. Since the church offered assistance to the poor, this is another challenge in coping with poverty: needing to look "respectable" to access help, but not being able to keep up that appearance in the first place because of that same problem.

The descriptions of how M Jondrette directs everyone to make the place look worse are probably meant to highlight how manipulative and cruel he is (and making his child cut herself on glass is definitely awful), but it also returns us to the theme of performance. Crime is performative for Patron Minette, but poverty is similar in some ways here. I don't think we're meant to find the Jondrettes that sympathetic, but they genuinely are experiencing hardship, and yet they need to make sure their situation looks as bad as possible (while still being "respectable") to have a shot at assistance. Since they can't rely on consistent help, they have to perform suffering, even though they already are suffering. Worse still, this performance directly makes their lives harder. In addition to the psychological aspect (it's exhausting), it means sacrificing the few comforts they have, like a fire, in case that makes their guest think they're lying about how poor they are. And right before, Mlle Jondrette had to play the part of a slightly more "respectable" poor person just to have a chance at asking for help. Their situation demands that they play various roles to access charity, and they need that charity because there's no broader support system that they can count on. Hugo may intend their theatricality to indicate their criminality, but it's really a symptom of the lack of reliable aid with trust on both sides (which is also a side effect of the system creating this level of poverty in the first place).

On a less serious note, M Jondrette's silencing of his wife is awful, but the way he says it is kind of funny?

"“Peace!” replied the father, “I suppress the liberty of the press.”"

I can't tell if this is just using politics as a metaphor for family and vice versa (the husband is a tyrant because he opposes "the liberty of the press," meaning, the right of the others to criticize him; by extension, authoritarian governments resemble this family) or if 19th-century France was so steeped in these kinds of political discussions that someone would actually say that (or both!). Either way, it's both horrible and kind of humorous.

Spoilers below:

Seeing Valjean's hesitance over heading back to the Gorbeau House, then deciding to do it anyway, hurts so much. He might have worried that the old portress was still there - meaning that he would risk arrest by going - but he went regardless because he felt that he had to help people in need. And knowing that those people are the Thénardiers makes it worse still, because M Thénardier is cruel and manipulative and is definitely going to want revenge for that time he was outsmarted.

Knowing who they are, it's sad to see the hints at their previous life, especially with Mme Thénardier. Seeing how much Éponine and Azelma are suffering hurts in that they're children, but we didn't know as much about their personalities before for the same reason. With Mme Thénardier, we can more clearly see her loss of hope. The romances found around the room gesture to her favorite pastime, but her hope for a lower-case-r romantic experience is gone; she no longer loves her husband, even though her love for him and her daughters was one of her defining traits when we met her (this is all from the last chapter). She does seem to still love her daughters, as demonstrated by her anger on Azelma's behalf when she's made to break the glass and gets hurt, but years of obedience to M Thénardier and the exhaustion of poverty have worn her down in a way that's difficult to read about. She's hard to fully sympathize with because she's awful - she abused Cosette and abandoned her son - but she also lost her dream, and that's tragic.

#les mis letters #lm 3.8.7 #jondrette #mlle jondrette #m jondrette

24 notes · View notes

throne-for-queens · 7 months

Note

There will be fans now that say he spends time with his fans and he's good with them. He is? He just solicited them by making a statement saying. "If y'all run up the last Kellivision, I'll give you the second one."

What!? No I'm not a pawn in your game. We have lives or most of us and we can't spend time streaming your music all day long. We can't watch a video over and over. Most of us spend our time working, eating and sleeping. Half of us are broke as hell and can't afford his high priced merch or the out of this world ticket sales. How anyone can afford that and go multiple times a tour is either broke as broke and wasting their money on someone who is being fake for the camera or they are rich.

And don't even get me started on those fugly bunny ears and this whole puke fest fashion sense he has half the time now.

Mid-life crisis. 😂

Please don't hate me I'm just so far past over him everything he does is hilarious to me and it's like I don't understand why I ever could take my time for someone who doesn't care. I found an artist who has over millions of views on some of his music videos and doesn't sell out any venue and loves his job and isn't asking for anymore fame. He will sit with his fans after shows and talk with them, smoke with them. He is genuine and doesn't play mind games with fans. The other week he just asked for one video of his to get to 5 mill and that's all he wants. His tickets are 25 bucks and he tours with his friends only. He does do VIP for a hundred bucks before the show but still gives the same opportunity to fans after the show but its just not on his bus. He's married with 6 kids and is just one hella amazing man with convictions and struggles still. He doesn't change because he's comfortable in who he is as a man. That's how I know Kells ain't happy but no one cares I guess....

No hate to you, but do you like him anymore? Genuine question, because I think You've reached your limit with him based on how you sound in your ask. I think you have grown out of him, and you can no longer support certain actions and behaviors.

Now don't get me wrong, I'd be lying if I said his new music is in my rotation, so I guess I'm not the greatest fan either, so please believe me when I say that I'm not judging or attacking you.

I just feel like at some certain point you just could no longer support it. Whether people agree or not, EST has changed. Colson has changed as an artist, and although change is good, it also comes at a price. It's hard for a lot of people to relate to the new him, so they hold on to what he used to be.

I think the main difference between colson and this other artist is that the other artist is secure in himself. Like you said, he doesn't seek outside validation and is content with the level of fame he has now. I think Colson's social climb kind of resembles Kim Kardashian's in the sense that nothing will ever be enough. They will always strive for more and want more. They are playing a losing battle of trying to constantly prove themselves and show people that they are multidimensional. Kells won't be done until he feels that he has left the legacy that he's always dreamed of and I feel that's where a lot of us are at a disconnect.

#machine gun kelly #colson baker #est19xx

4 notes · View notes

doomonfilm · 2 years

Text

Thoughts : Nope (2022)

Back in January of 2012, Jordan Peele made his breakthrough into the popular consciousness via Comedy Central’s comedic golden ticket that was Key & Peele. While both members of this pairing had achieved varying levels of success as bit players and character actors, I’m sure that nobody anticipated that the mild-mannered and deceptively intense Peele would soon become the face of modern day commercial horror and suspense media, stepping into the rare air occupied by the likes of industry giants like Rod Serling and Alfred Hitchcock. His debut film, the landmark Get Out, showed infinite potential and promise... his follow-up film, Us, while not loved as universally as Get Out, did manage to garner enough support and respect for Peele to avoid accusations of the sophomore slump... but it was his latest film, the mysteriously promoted Nope, that has left me the most extreme in terms of the juxtaposition of anticipation and curiosity. Sadly, I missed the film in theaters, and didn’t want to pay ownership price for an early rental, but the day the movie dropped to own I was on top of it, which finally afforded me the opportunity to take Nope in and share my thoughts.

youtube

Nope would probably work best as a completely blind experience, but as one of the multi-millions that saw the ad campaign initiated during the Super Bowl, building and creating my own set of expectations was inevitable. With plenty of looks to the sky and lots of ominous situations, comparisons to Close Encounters of the Third Kind felt logical but obvious, and luckily, the actual film baits and switches narratively in a way that adds tons of substance and subtext to the familiar self-imposed premise. The parallels between the in-world Gordy’s Home sitcom and the Jean Jacket situation become obvious with the help of the understated OJ, and through his eyes, we immediately shift our thinking on Jean Jacket... normally, we see a UFO as an invading force with some sort of intentionality, but much like the titular Gordy lashing out in a primordial manner on set (a location completely foreign and likely frightening to him), Jean Jacket roams the unfamiliar Agua Dulce mostly unnoticed and harmless, but lashes out once their fear response is spiked by misidentified threats (a.k.a. humans). With this new positioning of the synergy between all parties involved, we as viewers are allowed to saddle up (no pun intended) for a much needed fresh take on the UFO film trope.

Interestingly enough, this drawn parallel between Gordy’s Home and Agua Dulce also serves as the foundation for narrative subtext surrounding post-traumatic stress responses in the face of tragic losses. Though he is not presented as the main character, this illustration of post-traumatic stress is the clearest in terms of the character Jupe, the sole individual to make it through the Gordy attack not only unscarred, but acknowledged by Gordy in a non-violent manner. With this situation seemingly completely derailing what was a promising career in the entertainment industry, we find Jupe not only clinging on to any assemblance of his former past glory, but we also find him essentially trying to recreated that bridge between his fear-based morbid curiosity and a potentially dangerous foreign element in his familiar (read : safe) territory. In contrast to this stands OJ, who was also is attempting to understand sudden and violent tragic loss. OJ’s extremely reserved nature allows him to keep his distance, assess and understand the threat, and eventually, turn his tragedy into a potential opportunity to better both his life and the life of his sister Em, though the potential trade may be their actual lives if they make any mistakes. Outside of this brilliant dynamic, we also are shown lots of very real reactions to a UFO... OJ is scared but cautiously curious, Jupe is attempting to exploit the situation for monetary gain, Em shows completely believable fear and confusion responses prior to extreme bravery in the face of the unknown... even Angel and Antlers find themselves curious enough to provide their technical knowledge and prowess to what seems like a potentially possible window emerging from insurmountable impossibility.

As always, Jordan Peele and company use calculated and ambitious cinematography to put viewers in the grey area between subjective and objective viewership, at many times using his camera to almost make viewers feel like a curious but scared tag-along looking over the shoulder of any particular character. The visual effects used to bring Jean Jacket to life are stellar on a number of levels... as far as design, the multitude of forms that Jean Jacket takes are somehow both curiously familiar and wholly foreign, while the seamless integration of Jean Jacket into the world of Agua Dulce makes it feel extremely tangible. The costuming is mostly natural and subtle, seemingly to give prominence to Jupe and his crew, whose signature and outlandish attire serves as a connection element to their signature and outlandish lifestyle. The sound design of Nope is completely brilliant, with the sounds emitting from Jean Jacket sounding both vaguely familiar and wholly terrifying in their role as the auditory star of the film, while tons of supporting sound design balanced out against deafening silence is used effectively to breed tension. The location of Agua Dulce is cinematically pleasing, with the rustic and dusty landscape standing in stark contrast to the rich blue skies and healthy clouds that fill said skies. There also seems to be a healthy amount of homage in the film... I personally noticed the main cloud standing as a sort of proxy for Devil’s Tower from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Jean Jacket’s primary form resembling the Trimaxiom Drone Ship from Flight of the Navigator, and in a nice personal touch, Em’s final motorcycle ride ending with an homage to one of Akira‘s signature shots.

Daniel Kaluuya’s best leading man performances have always been centered around protagonists that are pensive, resourceful and economic with their words, and Nope continues this tradition, allowing Kaluuya to dwell in the dramatic realms of those like Clint Eastwood or Toshiro Mifune in terms of his ability to own cinematic real estate through steely looks and calculated physicality. Keke Palmer both uses and offsets Kaluuya’s energy by presenting her character as boisterous, optimistically opportunistic and larger than life despite numerous relatable odds, with deep love for her brother still emanating in spite of her actions. Steven Yeun, who has been on an amazing run the last few years, turns in another wonderful performance by embodying the most extreme version of grace under fire, with the grace represented by the smiling mask he is barely able to maintain that hides his hurt from the fire that is the Gordy’s Home trauma that Jupe sits in on a daily basis. Brandon Perea makes the most of his limited supporting time by serving as a happy medium between the energies of OJ and Em, with his enthusiasm and curiosity bolstering Em, and his ability to assess and his natural apprehension lending credence to OJ. Michael Wincott also makes a brief but memorable performance as a jaded and entitled cinematographer who has created a bubble for himself that allows him to sit in his extreme toxicity, with his unhealthy laser-focus to his craft ultimately setting up his downfall. Keith David makes an important initial cameo to help set the narrative in motion, while appearances by Wrenn Schmidt, Sophia Coto, Barbie Ferreira, a number of other supporting actors, and perhaps most importantly, and uncanny valley-dweller performance from Terry Notary as Gordy round out the film.

Yet again, I find myself in a position of regret for not taking the time and onus to see Nope in theaters, as the sheer grandeur that Jean Jacket commands would seemingly translate best on the big screen. I try not to feed into reviews and the opinions of the internet, but it was hard not to notice the mixed reactions to Nope from the viewing public. Personally, my initial viewing of Nope did not hit me the same way I was hit during my first Get Out viewing, but as for the hierarchy of Jordan Peele, Nope is immediately better than Us (no disrespect to that film), and in time, will likely be more accepted and appreciated than Get Out (a bold statement, I know). I’m looking forward to revisiting this film, and curious to see what viewers discover as time passes by, because Nope definitely feels like a movie deserving of repeat viewings.

13 notes · View notes

finsterhund · 10 months

Text

Screaming and screaming.

My roommate says next paycheck he's gonna make me give him AT LEAST 80% of it AGAIN. I can't fucking take this.

He told me that we won't be able to pay for rent if I don't foot the cost as he's apparently unable to get his share. Which I understand. No paid rent = no house so it has to get paid or else but it still sucks. He said we'll have to do this for at least two more months. I asked if he'd be paying me back after those two months and he ended the conversation real quick 🙄

Also my bank got locked. So I'll have to contact them to unlock it. It's probably done this because it went over my overdraft trying to pay for a PayPal transaction that kept trying to force it's way through. So that's fucking great. My bank account is locked and my PayPal is negative. On top of everything else.

My life fucking sucks. I hate having to live this way. Hate having to live like this. My days are spent in bed, nothing to do but watching grass grow (my beloved plants are cooler than grass but you get the idea I hope) and hoping that the internet is going to show me good shit instead of the overwhelming amount of bad shit instead.

It’s too hot but my roommate insists on me not being allowed to turn on the AC unless it gets even worse. Even though the hydro bill cost is a lot lower than he said it would be from it.

All I can think of is my Special Sly. How I love him so. It’s too hot to cuddle Scott.

The air quality from the wildfires is impacting my chronic lung fatigue and my chronic eye infections too which sucks so bad. Our planet is dying, us youth fight tooth and nail to live in a society where the only possibility is eating paycheck to paycheck and surrendering our dignity to predatory slumlords just to have roofs over our heads. I have fruit trees that will probably spend the rest of their lives pruned to live in tiny pots all crowded together in my bedroom while my grandparents farm is left to rot because I’m the only one who cares about it.

If your body isn’t already too broken enough to be put on disability you work a job that breaks it down. And that in itself is a luxury only afforded to some. Based solely on where you were born. In certain places if your body is too broken to work anymore the option is to starve. For other members of our species we are little more than beasts of burden. Only certain countries is there the option to live in a zoo.

I am a captive animal in a white-walled cage, my species-specific enrichment is virtually simulated by a digital machine, it is a privilege when I’m able to get fresh fruit. Meat is a luxury I can’t afford. To access the minimal support that may be available degrading hoops must be jumped through and you must present yourself for examination to those who think you’re less than human. You try not to hate them for it because how much of that disgust is fear? Denial that they are one, maybe two paychecks; one, maybe two injuries, away from being where you are. What you are. They deny it can happen to them. They insist that for them things would be different. They would use their resourcefulness to find a way. They have to. To think otherwise is to acknowledge there is a problem.

My friends all pass around the same $20, $50, $100 that we are only able to give one week because they get from a different friend the next. Love remains, I just have to remember that love remains. In spite of everything we still love. We still find ways to send support, give gifts, etc.

I should be used to this. I was never sheltered. I was never shielded. I lived among predators since before I knew what predators were. One paycheck away from having no food, no shelter, is as natural as breathing. But it still hurts. It hurts because deep down you know it shouldn’t be this way.

Humans evolved to survive not on the individual level but as a group. We survived because of love and compassion. But our innate desire to protect and defend and love allowed the twisted and the evil to rise unhindered and build selfish empires that are now infallible by rule of law. We allowed them to exist, and that is not something the inhumanly evil would have ever extended in return. The tolerance of intolerance was our downfall. We love and care so much for each other than when those mutant evils that go against what we are fundamentally supposed to be appeared we didn’t strike them down like we should have. We let them twist things into what they wanted and then demanded that these new aberrations to humanity were how we were always meant to be. Cultural gaslighting We must be civil, we must be tame, when they got what they wanted by being no such thing. They were savage while calling their victims savages. And the definition changed.

Our species gave up fangs for brains. We would build weapons to replace our teeth, but then the winners of these wars made our weapons illegal, knowing without them we can no longer bite.

I’m tired. So very tired. I’m tired of being the ancient roots of a long ago felled tree that sends up a sucker just to live for long enough before taken by the blight so that I have enough energy to live for now just to try it again. Hoping that next time, the blight will be gone. Fearing that next time won’t be enough and the blight will finally take too quickly, take too much, and there won’t be enough for another chance. Paycheck to paycheck. Ad nauseum. And you know the blight never used to be here. You know it was brought here. Because you still see those ancient roots, those remnants of the colossal stumps of what once was great towering trees. The suckers know because the roots remember.

And each time, each cycle, each season, sometimes a sucker flowers. And sometimes those flowers get pollinated. Able to make seeds. Baby trees, actual new life, a new voice, not just your newest sucker. And there’s hope. But each generation, less of us are pollinated, and we know that means that less of us survived to sucker again, or less of our suckers made it long enough to flower. Fewer, fewer, and further between. The amount of us that can hold on slowly drops. A reminder how delicate our balance is. Concrete undeniable evidence that the next time for you it might not be enough. We don’t fail from lack of trying. We fail when we grow too weak, too tired. But those that brought the blight, immune to the blight, they say it’s personal failure that kills us, that makes us weak. When the position that grants them their immunity is the only thing that differentiates them from us.

I’m sick of only surviving. I’m sick of seeing those basking around in their decadence they got at the expense of our ability to thrive all the while blaming us for what they forced us to become. The lie that where they are is some personal triumph. A strength on their part. Blight-immune nepotism. This disease they profit from is not natural to our species, but they profit from the continued insistence that it is.

In the end I can do nothing to change this. People say “vote” as if this isn’t just the act of sending up that little sucker tree, wildly hoping that this next term the blight won’t take, realistically hoping that the blight will not take until we preserve enough energy for the next go around. One bad season from not having enough to try again. Think pieces demanding that we should be flowering regardless. But we’re starting to clue into just how much energy it takes to flower, and of how the voices of those think pieces just want more lumber. We aren’t human to them. We are a product, a resource, a fuel. The insistence comparison I give to a tree is relevant because of that. Our next generations, our youth, their value is cogs to that machine. They need us in that way I guess. So maybe the way to fight back is to make ourselves unusable. Be that striking or what not.

But ultimately there are very few things that separate any other strike from a hunger strike. And we also need energy. We need that energy more than ever.

Idk. Man wtf I need therapy. I guess. But can therapy fix any of this? Not really. You get labeled with “shit life syndrome” and if you’re lucky it will be treated with the captivity of the underfunded social programs.

For now all I can do is love my friends, pet my dog, and hug my Special Sly. And dream. Dream that the next time the little sucker tree won’t have to struggle just to survive for long enough but that it can grow and thrive. Dream about a fantasy world where we will live for a hundred years and pierce the sky.

Or I mean we could also just stockpile weapons and [REDACTED]

#text post #negative #long post

0 notes

firstumcschenectady · 1 year

Text

“Love Your Neighbor” based on Deuteronomy 5:11-22 and Romans 13:8-10

This Romans 13 passage is hard for me to preach on because it is so core to how I understand faith that I struggle with adequate distance from it. I spent college with a construction paper sign on my door that said “Love is the Answer” and happily chirped to those who said “what is the question?” “it doesn't matter.”

Jesus wasn't the first one to notice that “love your neighbor” undergirded the other laws. Rabbi Hillel was in leadership from about 30BCE to 10CE – so he was someone a little older than Jesus. A famous story is told of Rabbi Hillel.

A stranger came to Hillel and made the request, "Teach me the Torah as I stand on one foot." So Hillel taught him: "That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah, all the rest is commentary. Now, go and learn it."

It is reasonable to think that Hillel was pretty famous, and Jesus agreed with his conclusion.

I would even go another step and say that there are two great commandments: Love your neighbor as yourself and love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. Loving God is reflected in the first 3 commandments, loving your neighbor in the final 6, and they're both in the 4th about the Sabbath. Furthermore, I'm going to claim the TWO are even the same commandment in two forms. How do we love God? We love God by loving our neighbors. Why do we love our neighbors? Because we love God who loves them. They're not differentiable.

So, that 4th commandment, the one about Sabbath. Have you ever noticed that it is a whole lot wordier than the others? “You shall not steal” is concise. “Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy, as the HOLY ONE your God commands you” is the opening sentence in the paragraph on Sabbath.

When John Dominic Crossan was here, he proposed that Sabbath is at the core of the theological stream that understands God to be aimed at distributive justice. I should say that differently. “Dom says the Sabbath is the key to faith as he knows it.” Phew, that's better.

The thing that really strikes me about the Sabbath as explained in Deuteronomy is that is IS “distributed” fairly. When I want to encourage people to take Sabbath, and to take seriously their need to rest, to play, to connect with loved ones, and to remember that life is more than work – when I want to do all that I end up worrying that I'm just guilting the already overwhelmed. When people are working multiple jobs to have enough to eat, or working obscene hours to fulfill impossible job requirements – how does it help them for me to encourage them to “take a break?”

This may be why I hear “you shall not do any work – you, or your daughter, or your son, or the migrant in your towns, so that your female slave and your male slave may rest as you do” and I'm blown away by it. Imagine! Imagine if EVERYONE got equal access to FULL rest, EVERY week! Imagine if you didn't have to a certain level of wealthy to afford rest!! Imagine if it weren't a privilege, if it didn't have to be earned, if it couldn't be taken away.

I find this hard to imagine.

“Remember that a slave were you in the land of Egypt, and the FAITHFUL ONE your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the HOLY ONE your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.” That is, because you were once aching and in need of help, give rest and help to those aching today. Don't work, to try to get ahead and therefore demand others work. Rest so others can rest. Work doesn't define life. Don't be like those who oppressed you. Be people of God.

Because the people of God rest.

Because the people of God make space for others to rest.

Because love your neighbor as yourself means let them get a Sabbath rest too, let even those you have power over. It means letting them remember why life is worth living, and why work isn't the centerpiece of life.

You may have heard me speak before about Walter Brueggemann's book “Sabbath as Resistance” because it is a favorite of mine. I'm not going to start quoting it at you because if I start I won't be able to start. But I've been deeply formed by Brueggemann's thinking on Sabbath.

John Dominic Crossan says Sabbath is the starting point for justice, for the ways of God in the world.

Brueggemann says Sabbath is the central commandment, the most important one.

They both think practicing Sabbath is central to loving your neighbor. The connection, I think, is that NOT WORKING is imperative to BEING HUMAN. And we generally aren't any better at letting other people be human than we are at letting ourselves be human. So we need regular time to stop and practice being humans – not people worth what we can do or make – but just beloved people of God SO THAT we can do the same for others.

We have to have regular time to NOT WORK in order to LOVE people, and loving people is loving God, and this turns out to be really important.

Last week I talked about nurturing the space for God to grow seeds of hope in us. This week I'm getting around to suggesting that Sabbath is a well known best practice for that.

Now, Sabbath may not be what you think it is, so let me go deep down into its roots. Sabbath is a time to stop being productive so you can be whole. Sabbath is a weekly day off to focus on the things that matter instead of the things demanded of you. Sabbath is for family, friendship, relationship, time with God, laughter, play, poetry, art, music, song, and naps. Sabbath is the practice of leaving behind Pharoah's demand that the decedents of Abraham make bricks, and relearning the rhythms of grace instead.

Sabbath is trusting in God's abundance, instead of fighting for your part of a scarcity pie.

Sabbath is focused on love, not productivity.

Sabbath isn't generative. It doesn't create value. Instead, Sabbath makes time to savor what is and what is good.

Sabbath is time for loving neighbor, and self, God and earth. Sabbath is TIME set ASIDE from LABOR for LOVE.

Those of us who have practiced yoga are familiar with the practice of shavasana, the intentional rest after movement, to allow the practice to settle in. For many it is a dreary, drowsy, sweet, restful time that is more restorative than sleep. Sabbath is meant to be delicious like that. Sabbath IS delicious like that.

At one low point in my spiritual life, I met with a guide to get things back on track and I found myself repeating “I'm so tired, I'm just so tired.” She recommended sleep. I laughed as I realized my communication failure. “Oh, I get sleep. Physically I'm fine. It is all the other ways I'm tired.” Luckily she understood, and recommended more time alone with God where I don't try to produce anything, but simply savor the love God has for me.

Don't try to produce anything, just savor the love God has for you.

Do you do that? Would you want to try? Could you give it 5 minutes? An hour? A day? A day a week? What would happen if you did? What wonderful things would happen? (Savoring God's love, it turns out, as mentioned previously, often looks a lot like savoring the love of God's other beloveds.)

Will you?

Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 Pronouns: she/her/hers http://fumcschenectady.org/ https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

April 23, 2023

#Thinking Church #progressive christianity #Brueggemann #Crossan #Sabbath #10 Commandments #Golden Rule #First UMC Schenectady #FUMC SChenectady #UMC #Schenectady #Sorry about the homophobic mess that is the UMC #Rev Sara E Baron #Love Your Neighbor As Yourself

1 note · View note

slickshoesareyoucrazy · 2 years

Text

People Like Us

So I saw a post on the old blog from a mutual that, to paraphrase, went something like, ‘Tell your kids things.’ And it talked about the importance of being honest with kids about addiction and mental illness in the family, so that if they find themselves facing similar struggles, they aren’t just going in thinking they’re defective and alone. And I added that post to my queue because I agree with it, and I almost just put a whole shitload of tags on it that were related but not totally relevant about Talking To Your Kids and Teaching Kids About Things and Answering Kids’ Questions, but I decided that maybe I shouldn’t attach all of that to my friend’s reblog and definitely not to the original post, because it’s a good post and I didn’t want to derail it at all. I agree with it. If addiction or anxiety disorders or mood disorders or something show up or run in your family…or other neurodivergence like autism or ADHD or dyslexia…or diseases with genetic correlation like degenerative bone or muscular or vision or hearing or neurological or metabolic or cardiovascular or pulmonary issues or hell even like left-handedness…tell your kids that. Answer their questions in kind but honest ways. Tell them Uncle Mickey has Alzheimer’s Disease and that diabetes runs on mom’s side of the family and your cousin Sally does that because it helps her self soothe in the crowd at wedding receptions and Christmas dinner every year and be careful around bees because all your brothers and sisters are allergic to them but you’ve never been stung. Kids being informed about themselves and their families and people surrounding them helps them be comfortable and confident. It helps them understand things. It makes life less scary and unpredictable and helps them feel accepted and like they belong and like they are not isolated and damaged.

Which brings me to the related but branching off rant. There’s a new push here in the US where J and I live to ban books and limit teaching and edit and censor information under the guise of protecting children, and this bothers me. Because this hurts kids. Every kid. It hurts every kid. Kids have questions. They ask a lot of questions. Ever been around a 2-5 year old kid? I think The Boy’s record for consecutive ‘why’s’ was like 14. It’s a lot. Sometimes they ask about crazy shit. I get it. Our son has asked us some uncomfortable questions. Some of them came about from watching the same media J and I were watching. Some of them came about from watching children’s media. Some of them came from observation of the world around him. A few of them came from early formal religious education. J and I always try to answer him. We look it up if we don’t know the answer. Our son is now going on 15, and he still talks to us and asks us questions, and I think that’s because he knows we’ll answer him. He’s asked us things about parliamentary governments and drug use and religion and racial slurs and sexuality and censorship and consent and genocide. We actually TRY to consume media that shows people who aren’t ‘like us.’ And we actually try to show our son that just because a person is ‘like us,’ doesn’t mean they are a good person with good intentions…a person who can be implicitly trusted…a person who has our welfare or best interests in mind.

I’ve (like many people who have taken pandemic living seriously) consumed a lot of media in the past 3ish years, fictional and reality based…books, TV, film, and even podcasts…and it’s become clear to me that so many people have been socially trained to not only be wary of ‘others’ and people who we perceive as NOT ‘like us,’ but to, perhaps more dangerously, not be as wary or wary at all of people we perceive to be ‘like us.’ I’ve thought a lot about this, particularly after hearing the podcasts of experiences from people who were taken advantage of by people they afforded an automatic level of trust in because of their ‘like us’ status. They go to my church/the same denomination of church…they are white…they are of this social/financial class/have money (or claim to have money/connections)…they have this job (or claim to have this job)…they are from this country (or claim to be from this country). I think what has happened in a lot of passive social conditioning is we’ve accepted this flawed logic that bad people can only exist in groups that aren’t ‘like us,’ or maybe even that all people who aren’t ‘like us’ can’t possibly be good, and (again, I think this is even a more dangerous assumption) that must also mean that everyone who is ‘like us’ is good, and can’t possibly be bad. By not showing people (probably especially kids) that people who aren’t ‘like us’ exist and can do good, or worse, telling kids that people who aren’t ‘like us’ are always bad, we’re also sort of showing them that people who are ‘like us’ should and can always be trusted (they say they are Christian; they are also white; they aren’t LGBT+ or neurodivergent or disabled; their kids are your soccer teammates; they live in a nice neighborhood). Or that certain groups of people should and can always be trusted (law enforcement, clergy, camp counselors, coaches, adult youth group leaders, elders in whatever community). Or that meeting a person in a certain way or at a certain place will always be safe®…(introduced by friends/family; met at a party of mutual friends/acquaintances; met at church).

In my observation, especially lately, this seems to be setting a lot of people up for pain and abuse. People, particularly kids, but definitely not ONLY kids, need to see examples of people like them being both the hero and the villain of the piece (from history and current events and fiction) and they need to see people NOT like them be both the hero and the villain of the piece (from history and current events and fiction). They need the knowledge that the world is largely NOT us versus them; it’s usually good people who do bad things and need forgiveness and grace and encouraged growth and it’s also people who do a lot of bad things, even unforgivable things, being acknowledged, no matter how close and connected we are to them. They need to see that how a person treats other people and themselves and the environment around them is what proves goodness and earns trust, not lazily assigning ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and ‘trustworthy’ and ‘untrustworthy’ labels to people based on appearance or group membership. Withholding information…NOT telling people (especially but not only kids) things, and not answering their questions doesn’t usually protect them much if at all. It seems to me that THAT’S what grooms them for future abuse and/or to be future abusers. Something else we have to keep in mind is that abusers not only groom people they see as future victims; they also groom people they see as future allies. A lot of Not Nice People will curate images in certain circles (church; neighborhood; activism; online community) as the life of the party, or a teacher, or a protector, or the person who always steps in to help, in order to shade and shadow their harmful behavior outside of that circle or behind closed doors. I guess I’m working through a lot of my own trust issues through writing right now, and I certainly don’t want to make it seem like I think no one can be trusted and no one should trust anybody. But I do feel like I myself have stepped up to defend abusers in the past because I was groomed to be their defender and not their victim. Again, you can’t assume that group membership of any kind means a person can’t be an abuser. It’s not just pedophiles who groom; it’s not just men who groom; any abuser can do this. It’s happened to me with men and women and it’s happened to me to always be set up as a defender. Trust Jennifer; she wouldn’t be friends with me if I was a bad person. But I have befriended and defended hurtful people before. And they’ve always eventually hurt me. So I guess what I’m hoping is that all of us (probably especially me, myself) are careful on who we classify as worth giving the benefit of how many doubts, and who is worth putting yourself out there to defend.

0 notes

questionthebox · 2 years

Text

On Those Socialists.

I had joined this Trotskyist group when I was 19, a decade ago.

based out of San Fransisco,

I famously left them when I was 23 in 2015,

because I felt they contained no intimacy towards me.

as ive had my instagram

posting my art and poems and such

two of those people I was with in that

followed me.

now only one does,

the other person who recently unfollowed me,

unfollowed because she saw my “stories”

and in those stories I referenced a “European Woman”

I was talking about Linda,

but this former “comrade”

took it to mean that I wanted a “White Woman”

this former comrade being Asian,

saw that and unfollowed me,

without hitting me up to ask me what I was saying,

also this person,

herself, has been in a decade long relationship with a White Man,

I say all of this to say,

that my experience with those “Socialists”

left a lot to be desired,

those people were obtuse, anal, but most importantly conformist and non loving

they didn’t seek to understand me,

they wanted me implicitly to fit into their box.

recently ive seen the former leader of that group

who has sense become a big DSA guy,

I read one of his articles in Jacobin

and this man, this white upper middle class academic,

has sense abandoned Revolutionary Socialism,

in favor of Social democratic reformism,

I'm friends with two “Famous” left YouTubers,

and when I sent them his article,

we all laughed,

one of them like myself has personal experience with him

and she revealed to me, that where he is now,

where she is too,

that he sabotaged her attempts to organize her apartment building,

as I read his article on Jacobin

I found myself utterly disgusted with him, and with those people

I had been in that with,

of course this man could afford to abandon

revolutionary socialism,

he like many of those people

never worked a day in his life,

obviously grew up wealthy,

and has only lived on the posh cosmopolitan sections of the coasts,

I say all of this to say,

that you have to watch out

if you join something,

to not get used.

and that if your sincere in what you believe

make sure others are too,

but most importantly ask yourselves

are these people willing to understand me and others

on a deeper level ?

#poets on tumblr #writers of tumblr #my thoughts #diary

0 notes

xcrystalzero · 3 years

Text

let the rain fall

characters included: zhongli, diluc, childe, kaeya, venti, xiao

summary: it seems the genshin boys have their own preferences of how to spend a rainy day.

Zhongli:

- This gloomy atmosphere is nothing that can't be fixed with a fresh pot of fine tea and some good conversation.

- When a glance out the window makes it clear that you won't be going anywhere anytime soon, he's quick to invite you to stay for some tea and snacks.

- Despite his evident lack of Mora, he has no lack of niceties where he lives and you can only wonder who he got to pay for this high grade tea and fine china.

- He offers you a knitted blanket and the two of you sit at the table as he pours you a cup of tea. It tastes warm and homey and he even sweetened it perfectly to your taste.

- To fill the time, Zhongli does what he does best. He tells you stories about Liyue, both as it is now, and as he knew it when he was a younger god. He weaves modern stories of families warring in certain trade businesses with seemingly fantastical recollections of rock spirits carved into dragons and gods that warred between the sea and sky.

- To him, time may not be an issue, but in the hectic mortal life you live, you've never before been able to truly sit down and listen to the experiences of the man before you. Even as the sky outside clears, you can't bring yourself to rise from your seat and return to your normal life. After hearing about the life of a god, how could you?

Diluc:

- For him, it's business as usual at the Winery.

- Sure, he's probably not going to be making the treck to Mondstat to work the bar at Angel's Share if it's raining cats and dogs outside, but there's plenty of other work that has to get done that he can manage from home.

- If you do manage to pry him away from his desk, you attempt to draw him back to the bedroom to get a little bit of rest, but as you pass the study, his eyes light up and you can tell that he has something else planned now.

- Suddenly, you're sitting across from Diluc, a chessboard between you. If you have no idea how to play, he'll diligently take the time to instruct you, making sure that you're able to understand the game perfectly before he proposes a practice match. Otherwise, he comes out of the gate with that one and there's a strange competitive glint in his eyes that you've never really seen before.

- And so you play. Diluc, for all of his gentlemanly qualities, is not one to throw the match just because he likes you. In fact, that actually spurs him on even more to try and one-up you at every turn. The gameplay is accompanied by an uncharacteristic amount of banter between the two of you. Every time one person takes the match, the other immediately issues another challenge and so you play on and on.

- The maids come to check on you guys since they're sure that you'll burn out at this rate, but you seem to be having a lot of fun, and so they let you be. The weather and your responsibilities are all but forgotten about as the two of you get to spend this well-earned time off together.

Childe:

- Thinks the rain is really fun. Growing up in basically a polar tundra, he didn't really see rain all that much until he left his hometown and began his duties as a Harbinger.

- The novelty of the whole thing combined with his hydro vision and love of water means that he loves rainy days.

- Will 100% drag you out into the downpour just to play around. At first, it seems a little out of character, even for the playful Harbinger, but you quickly realize what he's actually trying to do.

- That aforementioned hydro vision comes in handy as Childe begins to move the raindrops around him, molding them into creations that you can't help but compare to the Oceanid's hyrdo mimics. He's clearly having a blast and the light in his usually flat cerulean eyes only brightens when he sees that you're impressed, or at least amused.

- He just likes to show off, but showing off in front of you is even better so he has a blast. Perhaps if you have a vision, you can join in and the two of you can cause as much chaos as you want before the clouds clear.

- It's a rare chance for you to see a more carefree side of Childe. Usually, even his boyish charm is often a calculated move in the diplomatic schemes he claims to hate so much but is just so good at manufacturing. This however, feels like the real Childe to you.

- Eventually, you drag him into your place to get cleaned up and out of your soaked clothing but even as the moment fades, the light in his eyes doesn't. He looks better like this, you think but don't say. Instead, you chose to enjoy this side of the Harbinger before it inevitably fades away once more.

Kaeya:

- Does not like the rain because of certain... complications with it in his past. He won't tell you but it's not too hard to figure out from his actions.

- When it does rain, he prefers to either hole himself up in his office, or settle happily into the corner of a tavern and burn time with his drinking buddies.

- On the chance that you decide to join him, he's quite grateful for your company. He offers to cover your tab this time if you get him the next time he's had a few too many, which you wave off. However, as he begins to down drinks at an alarming speed, you can't help but worry.

- So, you slow him down by drawing him into conversation. You begin to talk about the most random things, though you continuously bring the conversation back around to him so that it is Kaeya telling the stories and doing a lot of the actual speaking. Not only does this slow down his progress through the wine before him, but it draw the other patrons to you.

- Suddenly, you've gone from two people talking at the bar, to basically a large gathering of people, all holed in together telling their stories, bantering, and bickering, and enjoying themselves.

- It takes him a while since you were kind of slick about it, but the Cavalry Captain catches on eventually and the smallest of smiles comes to his face. A real one this time. Well well, as far as playing games goes, he's pretty sure you won this one. And he's glad about it.

- He becomes significantly more relaxed after that, though he leans into you for the rest of the night, resting his head on your shoulders or pulling you gently closer to him. Nothing spicy or suggestive. Just a gentle gesture to show that he really is grateful for all of this, and for you.

Venti:

- Decides that it's the perfect time to start singing in the square.

- No seriously, you're wandering around Mondstat looking for the guy, only to find him traipsing around at the base of his statue, singing into the sky.

- Obviously, you yell at him to come inside, mentioning that he's not going to get any coins for his songs if there's no audience out to listen to them. He laughs at that, giving you a quick lecture of the value of music outside of money.

- And then he grabs your hand and pulls you out from under the overhanging you were taking shelter under. You screech at first but it turns to giggles as he then holds his hand out to you. "May I have this dance? Hehe, I've always wanted to say that!" How could you turn away such an adorable archon?

- And so, you indulge him, letting him lead you in a dance that is more skipping and jumping about than really dancing, but it's fun and brings bubbles of laughter to your lips so you keep going. He sings throughout it, making your own music as you spin around one another.

- Your shenanigans begin to draw some looks as people begin to yell from their windows, requesting songs from Venti, along with whatever dance you decide to "choreograph" to them. Perhaps some will even leave their houses and join you, reveling in the cool summer rain and the song that seems to cut straight through it.

Xiao:

- Adepti are rarely bothered by the rain, but he notes that you don't seem particularly keen on setting foot outside right now and actually suggests that the two of you just stay at Wangshu Inn until it clears up a little.

- You're surprised by his care, though you're not complaining as you dip back under the roof, protected and dry.

- That being said, you can tell that he's getting kind of antsy and you don't want him to feel uncomfortable at all or like he's being held there for no reason. So, you decide to find an activity for the two of you that doesn't involve fighting and that you can do inside of the inn.

- It takes a little convincing but you manage to get Smiley Yanxiao to loan you guys the kitchen for a little while (he's not getting any customers either way in this weather). It's time, you decide, for Xiao to learn how to make Almond Tofu himself!

- He's a bit skeptical but you bring up that it is his favorite dish, and he does eat it pretty often, so he should probably know what goes into making it. He begrudgingly agrees and you start.

- As it turns out, having never cooked in his long life, Xiao is awful at it. You guys absolutely botch the recipe the first two times and you're sure that Xiao is going to bail on you, saying that this was a stupid idea and going back to sulking at the top of the inn. Surprisingly though, he actually stays and seems like he's invested in the entire process.

- On the third try, you guys finally come up with something tangible. After a taste, it's not quite on the level of the one Smiley Yanxiao makes, but it's still not bad. Xiao is tempted to just huff and take off, but the look of accomplishment and happiness on your face as you two share the dish you made together warms him in a way he only feels when he's around you.

-Perhaps he can afford to spend more rainy days indoors and idle, if it means spending them with you.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #headcanon #zhongli #diluc #childe #kaeya #venti #xiao #diluc x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #genshin x reader

613 notes · View notes

tomatograter · 3 years

Note

What are your Thots on jake’s pq route?

I already wrote some about it in this post where I discuss the problem with taking dirkjake as a literal parallel to tavris (Mainly, that it’s inaccurate to both situations and misrepresents the dynamics at play) but it’s been long enough since release that I feel like I can talk about it without that criticism being taken as a personal witch hunt. TL;DR: As a general rule of thumb I don’t cite Jake’s PQ as part of his characterization, and I think basing your Jakewriting on it will only lead you astray.

I liked a lot of the Pesterquest routes and the alphas were among some of my favorites, but I think when you play the four of them in sequence Jake’s really... stands as the odd one out. It’s almost as if he’s afforded way less sympathy from the get go for some indiscernible reason, or like MSPAR took a day to say ‘I can’t stand this kid in particular’ after dealing with waaaaaaaay more mindboggling troll customs or stupid dangerous situations that tested their patience and their limits. When it comes down to it, it’s mostly an issue of framing.

Let’s go with the “Just the Alpha routes” example, because I think that makes the overall context clearer and the response/reactions it gathered (or the lack thereof) easier to understand. The alpha kids were the last 4 Pesterquest episodes. They were also afforded entire volumes just for themselves, which cemented our expectations on “oh, they’re going to really dig into unexplored territory!” and for the most part, that’s what we got! It was really nice to see the internal mechanics of Jane as someone raised within a corporate echochamber, Roxy as a grieving, isolated kid, deprived of all human contact, and Dirk as a nerdy doomsday prepper haunted by private flashes of himself as a supervillain. It all works! Those are things the alpha kids were dealing with on the background of the broader Homestuck story, things we were only hinted at as the *larger* problems played out. It makes you understand their point of view. Except on Jake's route, where nothing about his life seems to be relevant at all?

With Jane we get discussions about HIC and her family, with Roxy beautiful passages about a mother they never met and growing up alone— Same for Dirk, who gets a whole brother zapped from an alternate timeline. But on Jake's route there's not even an expansive dialogue path dedicated to Grandma English, Skaianet, the rebellion, or the giant red ship that came and murdered her in the night and then bombed his house, leaving him trapped inside his only surviving tower. No understanding passage realizing that this kid has had to fend for himself in an island full of Actual Giant Alien Monsters trying to eat him alive, or that he cremated his guardian specifically to avoid attracting predators to the scent of fresh blood drying on her mutilated corpse at the age of an actual toddler. The text refuses to dig into any of the psychological implications or impact an environment like this could have on a kid, which is even weirder when you consider MSPAR has met and helped Vriska get out of a similar situation. The whole thing with Jane in the previous volume has just happened, even, while Jake's particularities go unremarked. He was just supposed to deal with it. And that's because a choice was made to portray all of Jake's problems in this route as sort of... single handedly Dirk's fault? Something he should have Just Dealt with?

There's not even a hint that Jake knows Hal exists. Which is important! Jake can pick out Hal from Dirk based on *verbal cues*, and the fact that he considers Hal a barrier between him and his "real friend" getting to communicate with one another is a whole point of contention (and even comedy) in the story proper. Instead of examining Jake's isolation, or grief, or how he literally locks himself in his room and plasters it with cinematic posters to pretend he's just the main lead of a wacky adventure movie in the face of the immense shitshow outside, we get brobot acting nonsensically and threatening to break into Jake's room to beat him up.

A general reminder on brobot: He was programmed to scout the jungle and deal with predators so Jake could a) Be allowed to safely leave his room (something he simply didn't do before age 13 out of sheer terror, and we know this because dirk and jake talk about it on his birthday conversation, when he first gets brobot) and

b) Learn how to defend himself in the case of a surprise attack, with different combat settings adjusted to his level. The brobot has a novice mode Jake feels patronized by, but pushes him up levels quickly enough. In Homestuck proper, the brobot only enters "stalking mode" after Hal gets pissy with Jake for finding him out, and forcefully switches the setting on to make Jake work for the Uranium inside it. When you take Hal out of the picture, this plotline makes no sense! Jake's route is set way before the Alphas even think of entering the game, so this particular event hasn't even happened. Jake goes on to text Roxy and she turns the stalking setting off remotely anyways, so even if brobot was programmed to murder Jake in his sleep, or jump him inside the safe zone of his room (he's not) he has literally no reason to be acting like that when he's been set to Baby Buff Up Mode.

(Brobot does end up spontaneously pulling himself apart to give Jake his reward after this)

Which brings me to my other problem with the general framing of this volume; the alpha kids don't feel present in Jake's life as friends at all. It's all "romantic options" and "shipping discourse" and MSPAR making these silly logic jumps to justify insisting on this line of query, and all it does is completely flatten out anything of interest having to do with Jake as a Person, to build up an image of Dirk as being suspicious and shady for his volume and more or less come to the conclusion that Jake sucks because he just Cant Choose Who To Date Between All His Friends! And that's why jake is just like tavros… and dirk is just like vriska! Or something.

And just as a reminder, here's Jake talking with Roxy so I don't have to explain why that feels like a weird choice to me. (click to zoom)

And then there's the endings. On the vriska ending, MSPAR just ends up weirdly angry at jake for being such a piss baby and not getting that he's tavros and dirk is vriska so he had to… uh… take all his anger out on this 13 year old alien girl he has never met and teach her a lesson to prepare to do the same on dirk, or something. And on the other ending Jake mentions his pen pal, is zapped to meet jade, they have some non-committal greetings and then a cosplay party where Jake insists that he totally likes Lara croft not because she's a femme fatale and he relates to that, because he's never ever in his life thought of anyone being interested on him. Or Something. He likes Lara croft for normal reasons only. He wears really tiny shorts and does sexy poses because he's not aware at all of how other people find him attractive. He's just too dumb to get this, or the shipping thing, or that he's tavros and Dirk is vriska (who the hell are these people?).

Jake feels like an afterthought in the grand scope of events. Sidelined on his own episode. This volume is busy with rehashing age old fandom arguments that have little to do with his character, because said arguments were started and maintained by bored teens engrossed on fighting online instead of analyzing Homestuck; we introduce vriska for no interesting reason at all (thank god at least Jake has enough decency to say he's not into hitting on 13-year-olds, because that would have been particularly rancid.) And aside from catchphrases and old slang sprinkled liberally into his dialogue like a fog making machine, none of the motivation for the character is there. What does he want? What does he fear? Why does he act like the way he does? What would accommodating him look like? What would helping him look like? We get this on Jane's volume, Roxy's volume, and Dirk's volume. To really heart-wrenching and dramatic results, too. You get to know who they are, where they live, what they want, what they fear, what might help them get better, but Jake is just sort of There. He's a burden. MSPAR either ends this volume berating him for not doing what they want or finding him weird and confusing and like they don't know each other at all, and the fact both of those were marked as dubiously bad ends in the game files speaks for itself, I think.

#jake english #pesterquest #vriska serket #jane crocker #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #meta

367 notes · View notes