#but still i kind of self identify with the loser who 'needs to live a little'- i watch anything with that trope and i'm always like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

izzyspussy · 1 year

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i think a big disconnect happening here is that people don't really know what people mean when they say "write [demographic] characters but don't write about the experience of being [demographic]"

i really don't think it was ever intended to mean "don't include things in your characterization that are unique to [demographic]". because frankly that would be absolutely slug brained advice.

what i truly think it means (and was intended to mean before being warped into what amounts to a catchphrase) is "include [demographic] in your stories, but don't write something where the entire plot/purpose of the story is This Is What It Means To Be [Demographic]". and i think that is solid advice, and something that a lot of people do need to hear.

i mean there's nuance even in that, of course, because literally nothing about the human experience is in any way ever even remotely cut and dried.

you know, if you're writing a metaphor for [demographic] - let's take the X-Men as an example - that could easily be interpreted as or identified with by any number of different demographics. so it's more broad like This Is What It's Like To Be Oppressed. and "what it's like to be" is a much different thing than "what it means to be" first of all. a lot of things are like a lot of other things, that's the nature of things. but a thing only IS that one thing.

and secondly pretty much every living person can know to some degree what it's like to be oppressed tbqh. gender, race, religion, physical ability, age, class. i mean c'mon.

additionally, X-Men is about more than just that. it's also about, like, war crimes and unethical medicine and being kind of weird and going to private school and manufactured political divides and being in subtextual gay love with your nemesis and where is the line between self control and repression and and self-acceptance and who should decide what is Right and catholic aesthetics kind of slap and standardized education absolutely does not slap and some old guy's latex fetish probably etc etc etc.

and! it's not impossible for someone not in a demographic to do enough research and be sensitive enough and have enough empathy to write something that is This Is What It Means To Be [Demographic]. it's just very unlikely, and almost certain to have the catch-22 of you can't know what you don't know. but more to the point of the advice is that a story who's entire plot/purpose is to express This Is What It Means To Be [Demographic] is simply automatically going to be more accurate and more valuable and more relevant and more effective as a narrative from an author who is part of that demographic.

Add onto that the considerations of who gets published and why, and what kinds of implicit messaging in fiction is considered the most "marketable", it's less a question of what you Can do versus what you Should do. what is the most respectful - perhaps even the most responsible - thing to do.

And there's also the question there of, like. Why do you as someone who is not a member of [demographic] even want to write a story whose entire plot/purpose is to express This Is What It Means To Be [Demographic]? if your motivation is simply that there isn't enough of it, would it not be a better use of your effort to encourage more of it from the people who have a real reason/need to express that in particular? i guarantee you have other things you can write about What It Means To Be - that would be more accurate, more valuable, more relevant, and more effective written by you.

but back around to the disconnect. yes, any [demographic] character will be in part shaped by the experiences of [demographic]. even if they are from a secondary world without [demographic]-ism, they will still have different ways of taking care of themselves, expressing themselves, socializing, etc. true. and if you are not a member of [demographic] and your character is, you certainly should still include those things and if you don't that's absolutely loser behavior. yes.

and if you are not a member of [demographic], you can still write something that is What It Means To Be [Demographic], as in you are capable of it. yes. why people are saying you can't or instructing you not to or being upset when this occurs is because there's no reason for you to do that when you could write something else or something broader and leave that kind of specificity to the people who are specific to it - and because your less accurate, less valuable, less relevant, and less effective version is likely to be systemically favored.

#jack facts #writing process #reading process #i genuinely think so so so so many online ''discourse'' subjects would be completely solved #if we would all just be willing to ask ''what do you mean by that?''#truly

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stuff-from-the-void-matron · 3 years

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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (4)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(people seem to like this for now but remember, no reblogs/comments then i’m gonna assume people lost interest. so show u enjoy this please!! <3 also someone drew fanart of Reader, check it out at the bottom! :3c)

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“Come ON Wilbur! Come with me to check out the huge village I found the other week!” shouted Tommy while making sure to get in his older brother’s way as much as possible. He figured if Wilbur was focused on him and not whatever ‘super important’ shit he was busy with then he’d join him.

Wilbur meanwhile was doing everything he could to sidestep and ignore said younger brother. Now usually he’d humor the much younger boy but Wilbur was sorta busy at the moment. There’s been murmurs of unrest within the L’manburg territory lately since new faces have joined their country.

Apparently they weren’t happy about the fact that Wilbur was a self appointed president, and likened him to a dictator because of it since no one got a say in his leadership role. Which Wilbur thought was highly unfair. He’d fought tooth and nail for his country, so they could have and enjoy all the freedoms to do as they pleased without Dream and his cronies breathing down their necks.

Everything he did he did for his country. But he didn’t want them to see him as some unsympathetic tyrant who didn’t listen to his people. He’s not Dream, he actually listens when they speak, even when they say they don’t like his self appointed role as president. So yes, Wilbur was sort of busy with more important things than goofing off and finding some random village. But instead of snapping he just sighed and said,

“Tommy, I’m working. We’re supposed to be running a country, remember?”

The aforementioned boy let out an aggravated sigh, he knows they have a duty to L’Manburg, he’s not stupid! But he also knows they need to be allowed to have some fun now and again too! Or they’ll go crazy! And Tommy was sure Wilbur would go mad if he stayed cooped up inside all the time working! So this was his way of dragging his brother out for his own good.

But Wilbur was being especially stubborn (wonder where Tommy got it…) and was refusing to budge.

“I don’t have time right now Tommy! Ask Tubbo or Fundy to tag along. I’m sure they’d love to go vandalize a village with you,” Wilbur distractedly said as he wrote down some notes in one of his books.

Tommy was tired of fighting Wilbur on this and decided to hell with it, he’d just take the L this time. So he scoffed and said “Whatever” in the most pissed off teen voice he could physically summon and turned away from Wilbur and stormed out of the brunet president’s house, making sure to slam the wooden door as hard as he could on his way out.

It seemed like all Wilbur did was mope around and WORK since they’d won independence from the Dream SMP. What the hell was the point of even FIGHTING for said freedom if Wilbur wasn’t even going to enjoy it??

Tommy pushed those thoughts away and went to search out Tubbo, he could always count on his best friend to follow him into some mischief! Unlike SOME people. And thankfully it didn’t take the rambunctious blond long to find his friend, and with a grin he ran and jumped on the shorter boy, making him yelp in shock and nearly fall. But then Tubbo saw who it was and started laughing and shoving the taller boy away half heartedly. But after goofing around a bit Tommy remembers why he’d searched out Tubbo in the first place.

“Oi Tubbo, come with me to this weird village I found the other week. I was gonna explore it when I found it but Wilbur said there was an emergency and I had to leave before I could,” he said as they both walked along the main path.

“Yeah sure, but why was it ‘weird’? Was it one of those ones that’s built somewhere stupid like half on a cliff?” Tubbo asked with a laugh.

The two laughed and Tommy explained that the village just looked different? Like there was no cobble! Which was ridiculous because in his opinion that was the best part of villages was all the cobble buildings. Not that he was biased or anything like an American.

But Tubbo just laughed and said sure, they could go check it out. He didn’t have anything else important to do today anyways. Tommy gave a triumphant ‘yeah!!’ because at least he got ONE of his friends to not be a total loser and go out to have some good old fashioned fun with him.

Tubbo told him to lead the way so they were off.

-0-

Many blocks away in your village you were getting out of your ‘shower’, which was really just a waterfall hidden by thick trees and hanging vines behind your temple home. But it was the best shower you’d ever used thanks to how the water fell over you in huge sheets. You’d honestly stay in it for hours if you didn’t hate being bored just standing there. But you did get bored, so you got out and began drying off.

Once you were dry you started getting dressed in your usual outfit, then once done you paused before reaching down to grab the newest item of your outfit..

Your mask.

...

After your… horn discovery the week before you’d just laid in bed all day for a couple days. Not leaving your temple for any reason, not even to shower or eat. You’d have been feeling worse if you’d actually needed food but thankfully you didn’t, so when you finally got your ass in gear and got up to bathe you only felt marginally like shit. At least you had until you went to go bathe…...

But on that first day up you’d just stared at yourself in the reflection of the water and sighed. You didn’t have the urge to cry anymore, so that was a good thing. But you also weren’t a fan of the new horns or glowing eyes you’d had since ending up here. You weren’t even sure what KIND of horns these were?? And… call you crazy but you SWEAR they were bigger than they were before your stint laying in bed..

They’d only been little nubs before, not even as big as your thumb! But now they were at least five inches long and sort of splitting at the tips? It looked weird and honestly felt even weirder what with that velvety texture covering them. You made the foolish mistake of grumbling to yourself,

“Things couldn’t get weirder, right?”

And as if the universe heard you… you discovered a new ‘appendage’ on your body while you started to wash your body off. You’d been lost in thought, just scrubbing yourself with a soapy washcloth when you’d started reaching around to wash your back, your washcloth brushed against something protruding from the base of your spine, right above your ass. This time you didn’t start panicking, you think you were still worn out from the days previous, so instead of freaking out you just slowly craned your neck around to see if you could glimpse the...thing.

A tail.

You blinked, shocked but also.. confused? What in the absolute fuck? Why? When?? This time there was no sobbing or breakdown, you were honestly just puzzled. Are you ever going to STOP growing animal traits or what? Under any other circumstances you might even call the tail cute. It was small, probably just smaller than your hand and about the same shape too. And the majority of the top of it was the same color as your hair, but the sides (and underside after you got curious enough to look under it) were a soft white. With how you were in water the tail looked rather unimpressive and you couldn’t identify what kind of tail it was, but if it was at all connected to the horns then maybe deer? Or caribou? Reindeer? The last two seemed more likely since those animals’ females actually grew antlers you think.

Having to adjust to all this new shit practically every other day was giving you a headache. With a tired sigh you rubbed the area around the base of your antlers, soothed slightly by how the action dulled your headache. But you couldn’t ignore the issue at hand, so you swallowed down your unease and instead just decided since you couldn’t control these… unnatural features then.. well, you’d just cover them up or since that wasn’t possible for the horns now you’d just disguise them?

You’d been stumped for a while on how to even DO that but eventually you’d gone down to the village to feed the animals and you’d watched the armorer leave his house to get started working for the day. And you’d noticed the mask he wore pushed up on his forehead. That’s when the idea for a mask hit you. But you didn’t know how to make or even craft a mask, so you’d gone to the armorer and asked him about it. It was hard to grasp what he was saying clearly but after the months living with the villagers you’d picked up some stuff and could understand them some.

So you let him show you how to make a standard iron mask like his, though the first one he’d made hadn’t fit you in the end so he’d made a second after tweaking the size a bit so it’d fit your face right, since your face shapes weren’t the same. But you were thankful and said so after you put it on. Though the eye holes still revealed your eyes, which you didn’t like. You asked how hard it would be to put reflective lenses in them to prevent your eyes from being seen.

That question turned into the armorer calling over the cartographer, the stonemason, and the shepherd oddly enough to help him out. They were murmuring and crowding around the armorer’s workstation while you watched from the edge of the porch where you sat idly. You didn’t want to hover over them like some busybody, so you sat patiently to see what they came up with together.

And after a while your patience was rewarded when they came over to show you the fruit of their collaboration. And it surprised you how gorgeous it was, which wasn’t fair since you had 4 skill masters working on it together for you.

The mask was actually very beautiful.

It was a white half mask that only covered your eyes, forehead, and upper nose/cheeks but left the lower half of your face bare. And you think it was simply painted white because it felt about as heavy as iron, but the part that amazed you was how it almost looked Venetian in design. On the forehead of the mask was a golden sun, and golden floral swirls came from the corners of the mask and curled near the cheeks and sides of the sun on the forehead, making the mask look elegant and almost vintage.

But the best parts in your opinion were the glass lenses in the eye holes. They were reflective and the same colors as your banner! You don’t know how the villagers did it but the edges of the lens were a goldish orange and the color faded into a violet in the center. You worried you wouldn’t be able to see through them but when you put the mask on you realized the lens only gave things a VERY slight blue/grey tint. So slight in fact that you could fully ignore it if you wanted.

And the second best part was some of the floral swirls actually swirled UP past the top edge of the mask and rested against your horns, giving the illusion that they were somehow part of the mask. Actually with the mask on you could almost trick yourself into thinking you were just wearing a cool looking Mardi Gras mask!

You clapped your hands in glee and couldn’t help the excited sound you let out as you gushed and told them it was perfect! They all let out bashful happy murmurs and generally looked shyly pleased with your praise. You tried to give them each some emeralds but they refused to take them, grunting and shaking their heads each time you attempted to push the gems towards them. Eventually you gave up and resigned to accepting the mask as a gift, but you’d definitely do something nice for them later, to make up for their hard work.

…

You’d taken to wearing the mask at all times when not in the privacy of your temple. Which wasn’t very hard to get accustomed to. The mask was lightweight and the lenses honestly helped shield your eyes from the glare of the sun so win/win. And it also made your horns, in your opinion at least, less in your face. Which was good because they were definitely still growing. You could tell. And the split in the tip was now more pronounced, making you wonder if they were like… reindeer antlers? It would fit with the tail currently growing out the base of your spine, said tail that now looked REALLY like a fluffy little deer tail since the hair/fur on it had dried.

One good thing was that your tail wasn’t long or huge and could actually be hidden relatively easily under a shawl you tied around your waist. So that was one less thing to worry about. Though your life would infinitely be easier if you didn’t have to deal with all this inhuman bullshit. But you supposed life wasn’t fair and expecting it to be was foolish.

“At least I’m not part some weird animal like an aardvark or something…” you mumble to yourself, trying to view this whole thing in a ‘glass half full’ sort of way.

You’d decided to relax and unwind from your recent discovery by just taking things easy for a while. First day since you got the mask and such you just chilled and started a small farm for yourself. You didn’t need the food but the process of building the farm and toiling the earth and then sowing the seeds was actually pretty therapeutic. The repetition of it all was pretty calming. Just you, your gardening tools, and the earth beneath your feet.

The days following were pretty much the same. You’d tend your garden first thing in the morning after your shower, then you’d go off to find something else easy to fill your time. You took up feeding the animals, making flower boxes and planters around the town to make it more colorful, potion brewing, and even fishing. Which was what you were doing right now actually.

You were sitting on the edge of the pond next to your temple, bare legs in the cool water and your back resting against the side of another grass block, an enchanted fishing rod you’d traded the town fisherman for sitting stuck in the ground next to you while you relaxed. The day was actually quite beautiful and nice. Sun streamed down over you from between the bamboo behind you, fluffy fat bees buzzed overhead as they hunted lazily for pollen, and you were close to dozing off.

“Hnn! Hnn! Hnnn!!”

At least you would have dozed off if you hadn’t heard one of the villagers sorta freaking out. You looked up and saw one of the farmers panickedly shuffling about at the top of the small hill to your left. You wondered if zombies got into the village again? But no it was sunny out, they’d be burning if they did. Illagers maybe? But how would they have gotten around the bamboo and prickly berry bushes?? Well there wasn’t anything else for you to do than do see what was wrong.

You put away your fishing rod, got up and dusted yourself off before hurrying up the hill after the villager. You trailed after them down the lantern lit path but so far didn’t see anything, but you perked up when you heard telltale sounds of one of the iron golems fighting something and taking damage. That put some urgency in your gait and soon you were running to see what was going on. You rush past the fletcher’s home and then the cartographer’s right after but nothing. Then you finally round the corner where the market is set up and see at the very end of the path next to the cleric’s church is the altercation.

You sprint down the path, yelling for the villager’s to stay inside until you ring the town bell as you run past them. You hear the doors slam closed behind you and you manage to get to the problem right as your iron golem gives one last cry before getting poofed. You gasp sadly and then glare when you hear cheering. A blond boy that was shorter than you hopped down from a dirt block tower and scooped up the fallen iron ingots the poor iron golem dropped upon its death.

You were so pissed that you ignored the nagging feeling in the back of your focus that said this kid looked familiar. It wasn’t until he finally turned to look at you that it hit you. Holy shit this kid looked… and sounded.. like that minecraft youtuber, TommyInnit.. Like eerily so. You’re glad you’re wearing your mask so he can’t see the deer in headlights (*ba-dun-ts*) look on your face at the sight of him. And your shock didn’t fade with him speaking. If anything it reinforced the idea that this kid was weirdly reminiscent of that youtuber.

“Holy fuck! You are a MASSIVE woman. Wait, who the fuck are you?!” he said in a loud tone of voice as he looked up at you. It made your eyebrows furrow. You were NOT that big! He was just short! You even crossed your arms and told him so, which earned a snicker from the little brown haired boy in dark green overalls next to him. The blond boy scoffed, looked fully offended, snarked back that you were about the same height as a ‘bloody fuckin’ iron golem!’ so yes you were huge.

You glared at the little TommyInnit look alike and instead of arguing about your height you started scolding both boys, which they hadn’t really.. expected? At least from the surprised looks on their faces (which still had the roundness that came from baby fat). The brunet rubbed his elbow and sort of toed the dirt under his feet while the blond crossed his arms and almost looked to be pouting from the scolding.

“My height isn’t the issue here! The issue is you two barging into my village, killing one of my iron golems, stealing the loot from it, and scaring my poor villagers!! What in the hell were you two thinking?”

The blond tried to cut in, to defend himself but he barely got out the first syllable before you held up your hand to signal for him to silence himself as you snapped,

“I do NOT wanna hear it! You treat others this way?? Like they’re nothing, like their possessions and peace of mind don’t mean a damn thing?! Shame on you both!!”

By the end the two boys looked properly scolded. The brunet wondered if THIS is what it felt like to get scolded by one’s mother, and if it was then he’d like to avoid it for the remainder of his life. And the blond meanwhile actually didn’t have anything to say, or more accurately he didn’t know what to say to not feel like he was in massive trouble.

You meanwhile were just annoyed at this point, so you held you hand out (causing both boys to give you wondering looks) before you demanded the iron ingots that the blond stole from your slain iron golem. He got all in a huff, saying he earned them and they were just ingots- but you slapped that train of thought down with an angry,

“EARNED?? More like STOLE! After you killed my iron golem! Now give them back! I have to use them to make a new golem to protect this village.”

The blond sputtered, face blooming red at being blatantly called out on his theft, before muttering in embarrassment and pulling the ingots out and practically tossing them at you. You caught them and returned them to your inventory before shaking your head at the two and saying they should leave if their only goal in your village was to kill and destroy property. The small brunet quickly spoke up and said,

“No wait, we didn’t come just to mess stuff up! We came cuz Tommy said he found this place last week and it wasn’t the usual village so we wanted to explore it.”

Your stomach churned at the name.. Tommy. This was getting weird again. Way too fucking weird. But you resisted clenching your teeth anxiously like you wanted, instead you raised an eyebrow they couldn’t see and shot back,

“Oh yeah? And how did that escalate into killing my iron golem?”

This time it was ‘Tommy’ who cut in and said it had been an accident! They’d apparently been looking around when Tubbo (you felt queasy now after hearing that name too…) started fighting a spider and Tommy came over to help him, but in the process he accidentally hit the iron golem, who got pissed and smacked him.

“I ran from the thing and towered up three blocks! I knew it wouldn’t let up so I had to kill it! S’not my fault the bastard was holding a grudge!!” Tommy said heatedly, arms still crossed defiantly.

You wanted to rub your temples in exasperation but couldn’t without removing your mask. And like hell you were showing these kids your weirdo inhuman eyes. Though… if they really were the characters from.. the videos you got hooked on? Honestly this whole thing was 10 times weirder than the stupid glowy eyes or even the horns or tail.. Like this has to be proof you’re really dreaming or in a coma or something. What other logical explanation could there BE? These kids aren’t real. Nothing here is. It CAN’T be. The real people behind these… minecraft characters? They’re not here. In this place.

Before you could do a kickflip off the edge of your sanity into a full on mental breakdown you took in a calming breath and pushed those thoughts away until you were alone to give it the proper attention. And maybe so you could have your panic attack in peace and quiet. But right now you had two kids causing ruckus in your village. So you just said,

“Yeah alright, fine. I’ll forgive you both THIS TIME. But don’t make a habit of causing trouble in my village. And you can look around and explore, just don’t steal anything or hurt any of my villagers or animals. Got it?”

The two boys nodded, happy to not have you giving them that Angry Adult Tone anymore. So you turned and started walking back to the middle of the village, calling for them to come on. You had to ring the village center bell to tell everyone everything was okay.

Both boys shared a glance before Tubbo smiled and started jogging after you, Tommy right behind him, both curious about you and your village.

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(a/n: YOOO SOMEONE DREW READER FANART AND IT’S FUCKING BOMB DUDES CHECK IT OUT!! (Reader looking heavenly~) uwu)

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #c!techno #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt x reader #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!wilbur

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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May I please ask what your preferred dynamic between Holmes & Lupin would be? (From what I can tell, the term 'frenemies' might have been invented for these two - if any two characters in fiction WOULD spend all their time trying to one-up each other it's these two, if only their diverse other commitments, challenges & interests left them the free time to do so: I'm also morally certain a sadly-hypothetical Holmes/Lupin team is one of the few things that could bring down Fantomas for Good).

I think "frenemies" is what ultimately works best for these two specifically, because there's a certain untouchability to icons as big as these two that limits the potential stories you can tell with them (although yes, definitely on board with the two having what it takes to bring down Fantomas, although probably not as cleanly and easily as they might expect).

The original Leblanc stories involving this premise are very much centered around one-upmanship, even embracing a theme of national rivalry of England vs France. They acknowledge Holmes's talents but without the awe, with a somewhat aged Holmes with mundane imperfections easily exploited by the daring young thief, someone deserving of his legend but who doesn't quite live up to it. Obviously Lupin's gotta have the upperhand, not just because it's his author writing it, but because the whole point of Lupin's creation was to be the new hotness, the counterpart to both the stuffy old Great Detectives as well as the aristocratic master burglars, and really, what kind of rising superstar would he be if he couldn't put one over the other guy? If he's gonna live up to his claim of being the greatest criminal ever, he's gotta be able to humble the greatest detective at least a little.

The treatment of Watson (Wilson) is tasteless and it's frankly a bit saddening to see that even back then writers were still shitting on Watson far too much, but on the whole I think Leblanc was a lot fairer to Holmes than he could have been (certainly other writers from this time period who added Holmes to their stories were not as fair), he makes it very clear Holmes is not just another Ganimard out of his depth and is very much as close to an equal Lupin's ever had. I think the description used to cap off their final meeting is very much on point:

"You see, monsieur, whatever we may do, we will never be on the same side. You are on one side of the fence; I am on the other. We can exchange greetings, shake hands, converse a moment, but the fence is always there.

You will remain Herlock Sholmes, detective, and I, Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar. And Herlock Sholmes will ever obey, more or less spontaneously, with more or less propriety, his instinct as a detective, which is to pursue the burglar and run him down, if possible.

And Arsène Lupin, in obedience to his burglarious instinct, will always be occupied in avoiding the reach of the detective, and making sport of the detective, if he can do it. And, this time, he can do it" - Arsene Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes

The consistent outcome is that Holmes "wins" the material battle while Lupin gets away with the spiritual or karmic victory. The first story, Holmes has Lupin figured out from a glance, robbing him of his greatest asset, and Lupin even tells Holmes under a guise that he has no greater admirer than himself. Holmes choses not to arrest Lupin, and instead solves the mystery as quickly as Lupin would. But he is also, well, inferior. His "commonplace appearence" dissappoints the guests and detectives at the crime scene, he doesn't resemble their expectations, he is gruff, ungracious, arrogant and all-business, an Englishman all the way, and Lupin one-ups him by returning to him his stolen watch, and Holmes is not a good sport about it.

The whole "Herlock Sholmes" name change, although it was out of legal obligation, almost reads like a cheeky courtesy of Leblanc, like he's giving Holmes enough of a courtesy in sparing him the embarassment of being the loser. And the following adventures stay consistent: Sholmes is smart, as smart as Lupin, and he's a gentleman. But he isn't as smart as he thinks he is, and he isn't as much of a gentleman as Lupin. He resorts to unsporting tactics like intimidating Lupin's lover and involving the police in their conflict, and in the end, he's solved the crime, but "sown the seeds of discord" in a family Lupin was protecting, becoming the villain for a change, a role reversion Lupin openly laughs at. Holmes wins the "loot", he wins the material battle, but Lupin has the last laugh, and despite being a self-proclaimed villain, Lupin gets the moral victory.

It's a quite unflattering view of Holmes and one perhaps not suited for a crossover outside of the specific context of Holmes being the old and stuffy intruder in an Arsene Lupin story. Then again, every great hero needs a lesson in humility every now and then.

There's a particularly interesting variant of this dynamic to be found within China's own takes on Sherlock Holmes and Arsene Lupin.

Sherlock Holmes was quite the breakout hit for Chinese audiences at the time of his release, revered as an alternative to Judge Bao and the court-case novels. It's estimated that from 1903 to 1909, detective fiction constituted over almost 50% percent of all Western translated fiction, and with Holmes followed others like Nick Carter and Charlie Chan, and then Arsene Lupin, and soon their own local versions. The most famous and popular of which was Huo Sang, created by Cheng Xiaoqing, who was one of the main translators for Conan Doyle's stories. Cheng Xiaoqing even wrote his own take on Sherlock Holmes vs Arsene Lupin called "The Diamond Necklace", intending on correcting Leblanc's take, although interestingly, he unintentionally recreates the exact outcome by giving Holmes an unsporting attitude, where he "wins" only because Lupin lets him, and Lupin gets away again with the moral high ground. He would fare off much better in correcting Holmes with his own character, Huo Sang.

Huo Sang has a lot of similarities to Holmes, even with his own Watson counterpart, but was also designed to represent a few more traditional Chinese values. He is a science teacher with no addictions who belittles the wealthy class and fights for the poor, and he is praised for humility, one story even making a point to criticize Holmes for arrogance. He is a very Westernized character, with suits and guns and cigarettes galore, but the books were very dictatic and the author marketed them as "disguised textbooks for science", playing up on a newfound social reverence to scientific methods and self-improvement and national rejuvenation.

The stories deal heavily with corruption of the police force and institutions. In the earlier stories he outright calls police detectives useless rice buckets only good for solving petty thefts and preying on those that can't defend themselves, and while they become less sinister in later stories, Huo Sang's relation with law enforcement is much more frayed than Holmes's own. He uses dirty police tactics of his own and sometimes takes the law into his own hands, thinking the law cannot possibly achieve justice on it's own. His biggest loyalty is to his country and he values his reputation above all else. He values justice more than the law, like Holmes. But like Holmes, he still prefers to work inside the law and within Chinese traditions.

"Bao Lang, you scholar, you're too idealistic. Don't you realize how weak the law is in modern society? Privilege and power, favors and money - the law has all these deadly enemies

"We investigate half to slake our thirst for knowledge, half out of duty to serve and uphold justice. In the realm of justice, we are never constrained by the wooden and unfeeling law. For in this society, which is gradually tending to surrender its core to material things, the spirit of the rule of law cannot be put into general practice, and the weak and ordinary people are aggrieved, more often than not unable to enjoy the protection of the law.

Lu Ping, as you'd expect from a counterpart to Lupin, was much different. In fact, right in his very first story, he was already pitted against Huo Sang and outsmarting him, in a story called "Wooden Puppet Play". The character is inspired by an already existing tradition within Chinese literature of the "chivalrous thief", shapeshifting masters of deception and martial arts, and considered admirable and benevolent opposite to the corrupt government officials they outwit.

His stories are more whimsical, energized, more varied, less dedicated to strict science. He whistles while committing crimes, is identifiable by a red tie and wooden puppets he uses to signal his goons on what outfit he's gonna be wearing, and even cracks asides to the reader. In many aspects Lu Ping is influenced by hard-boiled Western detective stories, and naturally, he has a much more contemptious view of the law than Huo Sang

Well then, was he willing, in his capacity as thief, to represent the sanctity of the law and catch the murderer? Yes, he would be quite happy to round up that murderer. But he wasn't at all willing to boost the reputation of the law. He'd always felt that the law was only something like an amulet that certain smart guys had fabricated to get them out of embarassing situations.

Such an amulet migh be good for scaring away idiots, but it oculdn't threaten the violent, crafty and arrogant evil ones. Not only could it not scare them away, a lot of them hid right behind it to work their evil tricks!

Conflicts between these two are not just rooted in one-upsmanship or the patriotic conflict between the two, but instead in two differing approaches to justice, their influence on fellow Chinese writers to step outside tradition, and the respective ways they address issues in society. Additionally, it's not just a conflict between Great Detective vs Gentleman Villain, but the Holmesian Detective and the Hardboiled Detective. And, naturally, when the two met, a pattern reocurred again.

Writing a Lu Ping tale in his usual manner, Sun Liaohong deprives the detective of the advantage he typically enjoys at the hand of Cheng Xiaoqing or any other follower of Conan Doyle - narration by the detective's coadjutor.

It is Huo Sang who slinks around like a thief, alarming hotel service personnel. He becomes rattled, and even so is vain and arrogant. He is a bit too positivist about searching for clues, and he spends a remarkable amount of time just relaxing and waiting for something to happen.

The figure of "wooden puppets" turns wicked when the author uses the term to refer to Huo Sang, Bao Lang, and the police. Satirizing the genre as a play in which the author woodenly manipulates his character. But Lu Ping as puppet is a genius, moving from one identity to another, whereas Huo Sang is a dumbbell - wooden indeed, bourgeois, ridiculed.

A gentleman's agreement occurs only at the end. Huo Sang has the formal victory. He frees Lu Ping in order to get the paining, but the exhibition is held a day late and it now bears Lu Ping's seal.

In wartime, peace talks, diplomacy and gentlemen's agreements are just smoke screens, the stuff of puppetry. Both Huo Sang and Lu Ping surround themselves with lies to reach their final accomodation. Perhaps they are both puppets - Chinese Justice, the Fiction: Law and Literature in Modern China, by Jeffrey C. Kinkley

Both characters were canned in 1949 when the CCP banned detective fiction, and it was replaced with anti-spy literature about how the party police would expose counterrevolutionary conspiracies. They never got to have a rematch, and to my understanding there were a couple of films made afterwards about them, Huo Sang had a very recent one in 2019, but never another meeting.

I guess the takeaway here time and time again is that, credit to Holmes and all, but:

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #sherlock holmes #herlock sholmes #arthur conan doyle #arsene lupin #maurice leblanc #lupinchads can't stop winning

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bitchapalooza · 3 years

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More hetalia highschool AU, 🌟magic team🌟 edition :)

Under the cut bc it is long ❤️

Vladimir is that one kid obsessed with Twilight but only for the vampires; it was his first ever exposure to vampires thanks to his dad thinking Twilight was an appropriate book for a 11 year old. Team Edward going strong for five years, he'd proudly declare like it actually mattered. He tries his best to dress goth at school even though his uniform gets in the way. Fake ear piercings(his parents won't let him pierce them yet), over the top makeup, he's dyed the top half of his shoes black because his parents were concerned about his obsession with black and wouldn't buy him the black tennies he wanted— "mom look, these are marked down for back to school! Can I pleeeease get them???" "....may I know why the black ones specifically?" "They match the ever nothingness of my soul." "Yep! The white ones it is then!" "Mooooooooooom!"— Vladimir has been dubbed the cringy vampire kid of course.

Lukas is into pretty much anything concerning cryptids and magical creatures because they can't be proven to be fake or real, which intrigues him. He carries a book about mushrooms at all times and info dumps on pretty much anyone about identifying poisonous mushrooms and which mushrooms are safe to eat. His backpack is covered in buttons and pins to show off his interests. He keeps an amethyst in the front pocket of his backpack, reason unknown other than to just randomly pull it out and let Mikkel look at it. He's that kid that always wears his hoodie no matter the season, he never takes it off. Under his hoodie is always a crude worded t-shirt that the school would not approve of, much less his parents. He's relatively quiet and because he's quiet he's considered a weird kid.

Arthur can't decide if punk is his style or if goth is. Either way, his way of self expression at school in addition to the uniform is horrible. Checkered black/red shoes his grandma got him with his older brother's hand me down worn out greying socks—"can I PLEASE just have my own clothes???" "we have perfectly good clothes for you in the garage! I can fix them up to fit you better and everything!" "but I want cool NEW clothes!" "those are cool clothes and as far as the other kids know, they're also new. Now get your transformer backpack and get to the car. I put a new patch on it last night so that should hold it for the rest of the year."— Old Pierce the veil shirt, with holes chewed into the collar from his older brother Dillan, peeking out from under his white polo. A black and red choker to match his black and red slowly tearing apart too big flannel on top of a black pull over. A deep blue beanie, the hoodie of his pull over almost constantly on top when outside the school. He dyes a part of his hair a different color every month. He spikes his hair using too much gel and is convinced he looks good. He talks too much about bands and always gets Vlad and Lukas going on and on about fictional creatures he does not FULLY believe in himself. He does, however, believe in magic and loves Harry Potter, more specifically the Weaselys, to bits.

Natalya is a sophomore, a year behind the boys, and she just kinda pushed her way into the friend group until they eventually accepted her into it. They were the only three she knew who liked occult related topics. She's on the baseball team because she wanted an excuse to hit things with another thing and NOT get detention because of it. She wears the khaki uniform skirt and takes full advantage over being able to wear any kind of tights underneath; skull pattern, plain black, blood splatter pattern, fire pattern. Anything that makes her feel like a badass. She's always talking about antiques and forging weapons, more specifically knives. She has a whole collection of fidget toys but her favorite is this pea pod keychain her father gave her. She's always talking about how she'd like to be a medical examiner and to just prove that she's serious, she'll bring up a picture of a human model and point out the difference between a self inflicted fatal wound and a homicide. She puts up a charade of being able to see and talk to ghosts to freak out Alfred, her extended friend first met through Tolys.

They collectively believe they're cool and that other people know this. They're genuinely blind to the obvious snickers sent their way, being called losers and nerds. They're really knowm for like really pathetic things like; Natalya is Ivan's, tallest and most intimidating member of the wrestling team, weird younger sister by a year. Lukas is just the weird quiet kid that reads by the courtyard garden during lunch. Vladimir is not only the vampire goth kid but the kid who's parents believe the teachers are giving his son low grades on purpose and will yell at them for it. And Arthur is just. He's another Kirkland, immediately assumed to be a massive trouble maker because of his now graduated brother Alistair and one grade above him brother Dillan. Everyone loved his eldest brother Darick and sometimes compare him to Darick.

Compared to what others THINK they do, such as witch craft for some odd reason, the four of them do pretty typical teen activities. Like hang out at the mall. Do their honework together. Play video games and D&D when they have the chance. The boys do have sleepovers still as they have since meeting each other in middle school, Nat not really being a fan of sleeping where she doesn't live but comfortable enough to go to their houses and just chill for the day. They have become friends because of their related interests but thats not what they're ALL ABOUT.

Fun facts/stories about these losers I thought about while bored as fuck:

• Lukas, in his freshman year, went on a nature hike field trip with his lit class after reading Into The Wild. And he brought his mushroom book of course. They walked around, looking at the sights, talked about the book. Lukas just stops at one point, falling behind the class. He picks up a mushroom, goes to the teacher and is like "You see this? Its not poisonous." And straight up fucking eats it without warning. The teacher called an ambulance even though Lukas kept telling him he was fine and that that mushroom was 100% okay to eat raw, but for sure better off cooked. Lukas calmly shows the paramedics his book and they're like "yeah that actually was safe to eat, we don't need the book to confirm that, but um. Please don't ever pick something off the ground and eat it again. Just. Please don't do that, son." .....he did it again before leaving to go back to school but this time he didn't tell anyone.

• In elementary school, Natalya brought in a model of the human brain she asked her dad to borrow. He had to say yes because she was his only child genuinely interested, not bored of, his medical profession and he found it very cute and honoring. So she's at show and tell, its her turn right, and she silently goes up to the front of the class and pulls out the model brain. Teacher tries to step in because, hey, these are 6 year olds—AND WHY DOES THIS 6 YEAR OLD HAVE A PLASTIC BRAIN??? But Nat just shooshes her. In surprised shock, the teacher is just quiet as Nat begins to explain parts of the brain and their function— which was all wrong actually. She knew the words and everything but she didn't get the locations right. She sounded confident and smart and she was telling this to a bunch of 6 year olds so they believed her of course. End of the school day, her dad is having a hilarious conference with his youngest's teacher about the brain incident.

• Vladimir loves reading. He's loved it since he began to learn how, even if his dyslexia gives him grief along the way. So since he loves to read he'll always get excited and read ahead in class or in the public library reading club. One summer, the reading club was reading The Giver and it was getting really good. Vlad was loving the story, so much so that Vlad began to read ahead in his own time when he really wasn't supposed to be, the club was reading it together out loud and discussing it. Now he's read enough and worked hard enough to figure out how to help himself focus better and understand each word and sentence without having to reread it all multiple times over or get stuck. But sometimes the meaning and context to what he's reading doesn't ALWAYS process with the words as he's too focused on reading the words right and it passes right over his head. So Vlad is reading ahead and he's getting to the part where The Giver has given Jonas the memory of the sled again. And Vlad just sits there after reading that paragraph. He rereads it. And rereads it again. And then he leaves his book on his bed, goes to the the hall closet and takes out the ironing board. He grabs a plastic container to use as an ill attempt of a helmet and he just. Rockets down the staircase and hits the wall. He screams and cries and his parents rush in from the livingroom. When asked what happened he just says "I wanted to understand the sled scene better! Now I do and I feel really bad for Jonas!" He just couldn't quite grasp WHY the sled accident hurt, never had a broken bone nor sled afterall, and needed to find out. And that's how Vlad got his first broken arm at the age of 12.

• When Alfred and Matthew moved in with Arthur's family, Arthur didn't like it. He was a moody young teen but he was also just tired of the full house. His cousins were loud and nosey. He had to share a room with his four older brothers already and now with Matthew while Kathleen and Alfred got a room to themselves. Arthur thought this was so unfair. So his solution was to run away. He was 13, he needed a place to have some peace and quiet for once. So he texts Francis and Lukas, the only two of his friends living in his neighnorhood. Francis is not on board with helping him run away at first but then Lukas brings literally all his camping gear for Arthur's use and then Francis is on board because he had the feeling Arthur was going to get himself killed somehow. So as the elder one of the group he accompanied Arthur and Lukas out to the short stretch of woods behind the last street of their neighborhood, intending to go to the big clearing before hitting the roads leading to the airport and whatever else buildings. They're out there setting everything up together and they're done by like 4 pm. They sit down and talk, munch on oreos and other snacks Arthur deemed as essential survival foods. Then Francis looks at his cell and remarks "wow its already 6! Ah, Lukas, we should get home. Afterall, neither of us ran away so we still have supper to eat. Come on Lukas, let's go before our parents come looking for us." They exchange goodbyes, Francis trying his best to hide his cocky smirk. So Lukas and Francis start walking off, Arthur crawls into the tent and eats half a cookie before frowning and feeling too alone. He didn't expect to feel alone because all he wanted was to BE ALONE. Before he knows it, he's running out of the tent yelling after his friends to stop and wait up. "Oh whats wrong, Arthur? I thought you wanted to run away." "I— I forgot I hadn't fed my rabbit is all! I'll run away tomorrow! I'm not... Feeling lonely if.. If that's what you think...." Arthur did not run away the next day. Buuuuuut the three plus Vlad made a tree house together in the Kirkland backyard that they still use today!

#if you thought these four would be cool kids in this au then you thought wrong #hetalia #hetalia au #hetalia england #hetalia belarus #hetalia norway #hetalia romania #hetalia magic team #there should be more content of the magic losers + belarus tbh magic team is a bad group name but so fits their collective vibes so well

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vocalyunho · 4 years

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Losers

Part 2 of bad boy! Yunho, part 1 here

pairing — bad boy! Yunho x reader (fem)

genre — angst with a sprinkle of smut, fluff.

word count — 4k

warnings — explicit language, lots of kissing, (almost) handjob, talk about inner self and emotions.

synopsis — After the night of the dare, Yunho has to cope with his new -to him- self. Realizing that getting you out of his head was impossible, he decides to visit you. However, you misunderstand the reason he came to see you, but he needs to make himself clear.

A/N: first of, thank you all for appreciating the first part & sending me so nice messages! Secondly, I noticed (once again) that I can’t write angst to save my damn life, so I’m sorry again if this one’s messy or doesn’t reach your expectations. Your feedback is very much appreciated, please don’t stay silent :’)

Everything was spinning around him. The lights, even though dim, seemed too bright for him and his red eyes, the music was too loud and bothersome, the accrual smoke was choking him, Yunho’s head was throbbing but his thoughts were clear in his mind. You. That green poison he’s been smoking and all the alcohol he’s consumed, did nothing. You’re still living, rent free, in his mind and he can’t do anything to get you out of there. The way your lips had nibbled on his neck and the way you’d looked at him, that night, when his hands were under your shirt were still in his mind. You looked so innocent, yet so confident. So helpless, yet so determined to win the game and he was just the conduit for that, nothing more.

Yunho walked slowly towards Hongjoong’s crowded living room and flopped on the couch clumsily. His legs spread in an attempt to feel his body and his hands rested on each side of his body as he swallowed a few times with effort. The aforementioned man has been gone for a while now. Last time he saw Hongjoong, was when a girl was dragging him into his bedroom, both probably too drunk and ready to relieve all the accumulated sexual tension built through drinking and dancing on each other. His eyes couldn’t stay open anymore, he let them fall shut as his head rested on the back of the couch. He needed some quiet for once, maybe he should leave but only after he feels ready to walk to his own apartment. He knew this would happen and he was wise enough not to ride his motorcycle that night. Every time he’s in Hongjoong’s, he always ends up like this, high and fucked up, but not like tonight. Tonight, he went beyond his limits, he was determined to get you out of his mind but all he succeeded in, was thinking of you more.

He almost felt peaceful for a bit until he felt someone straddling him and as he opened his eyes, a girl with too revealing clothes was sitting on his lap, already grinding on his crotch. He gasped at the sudden pressure on his cock and looked at her with heavy eyes “how about we go to the bathroom and you fuck me on the countertop, like this one time, remember?”, she whispered snuggling against his neck “I want those inked arms around my throat so bad”, she moaned but he couldn’t even remember who she was, let alone the fact that he was inside her in the recent past. In any other situation, he’d already be on his feet and up for some fun but now he only turned his head the other way, “I need to leave”.

“oh c’mon”, she tried to hug him but he was fast to break free from her embrace “I said I need to leave”, he moved her on the seat next to him and stood up, heading for the door.

“dude, are you leaving already?”, Wooyoung shouted from the other side of the apartment but Yunho only wore his leather jacket and moved his two fingers, gesturing goodbye to him.

Once he was home, the bed seemed more captivating than a hot shower. His legs couldn’t keep him up longer, after all. Everything was still spinning, except now he’s in the safety of his own home and random girls aren’t coming up to him asking for sex in bathrooms. He fell asleep in a matter of seconds and, maybe, these little hours he slept where the only ones you weren’t wandering around his mind, in the conscious part, at least.

-------------------------------------------

Waking up early everyday to study isn’t the easiest thing, especially when you work late every night. If you wanna keep your health you’ll have to quit that job, but for now you need the money it offers.

Lately all your days are either spent in the library or in a cafe, studying for the upcoming exams and the nights...they’re always spent in the bar, moving around filled glasses and taking them back empty. And that’s exactly what’s happening now and you still have an hour to go till you can get back to the warmth of your sweet home.

Bars are...lovely. Well, not your favourite places to be, but considering that most youths spend their time in clubs, bars are much more preferred. The music is low enough to share a good conversation with someone, but still loud enough to enjoy the melodies themselves. The decoration is much more genteel than clubs and cafes, the clients more kind and free to come in dressed in anything they find pretty or comfortable. The vibes are more chill, collected, nonchalant, if you will, and there’s a balance in everything that’s hard to find in other places.

You’ve been moving around beautifully decorated cocktails all night and if it wasn’t for the -not so high- heels you’ve been wearing, you’d be enjoying doing so. You can feel your heels and ankles starting to burn but there’s only an hour left, you can do it.

Once you were back to take the newly made drinks from the bartender, the door of the bar opened fast and a male entered. Usually, you know who enters. The bar is small and by far not one of the famous ones in the city, so the clients are pretty much the same and especially on weekends. But this one…no, you didn’t know him. He wore black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath. You noticed the brown timberland shoes, not many people around you wear those, and his features…you couldn’t identify them due to the sunglasses he was wearing and his head that hang low. This man really entered a bar which already had dim lighting, at 2AM, with sunglasses on. Your eyebrows furrowed and the bartender gestured for you to take his order once he was sat. A helmet hang from the man’s right hand and moving slowly, he found a table on the very back of the place to sit. It felt like you were in a movie, where a stranger enters a pub, and everyone stares at him until he takes a gun out and starts shooting.

You moved to his table with your mind still on how your feet hurt and spoke politely “hello, what can I get for you?”

“you”

“excuse me?”

He raised his head and your insides felt like they twisted…not in the bad way, actually exactly the opposite. Yunho stared at you, you assumed, but after he took the sunglasses off you were sure he did. But he wasn’t the same. Even with the dim lighting of the place you could see how his eyes were red, he must’ve been (crying) smoking something. It wouldn’t be beyond belief, if he did.

“I wanna talk to you”, he spoke with a deep voice and it reminded you of his voice the night of the dare.

“I’m sorry, I’m working. Now what can I get for you?”

“when’s your shift over? I’ll wait”, he spoke fast as he rested his elbows on the table, moving his upper body forward. His body language proved tension spreading in his system and his voice sounded desperate, but you couldn’t figure out why.

“what can I get for you?”

“please”

“is a whiskey fine?”

“it’s important”

“is a whiskey fine?”

“…yeah”

He stayed there, drinking and following you with his gaze. Truth is, there was nothing for you to talk about, even if you really wanted to, too. The only real interaction you had was that night and you had made it clear to him that it should be forgotten and especially not be told to anyone. Yet there he was now, wanting to talk to you and God knows how he found out you worked there.

When it striked 3AM, you headed for the ‘employees’ only’ room to change the uncomfortable outfit and the even more uncomfortable shoes. Your mind was still on Yunho though who was out there waiting for you and a million questions flooded your mind. How did he find out about the bar you’re working for? What is the important thing he wants to talk to you about? Will he follow you to your apartment? And what- “hey”, you flinched at the sudden voice and turned your head fast only to see him right in the entrance.

“you’re not allowed to be in here”, you said calmly as you tied your second shoelace.

“I need to talk to you”

“we have nothing to say, now please leave. Only employees can enter here”, you stood up, heading for your locker to take your forest green jacket as he remained silent. You wore it fast and took your backpack, ready to leave but once you turned around he was there, right behind you with his head bent forward to reach your eye level.

“fuck, you scared me”, your back hit the locker and your hand reached for your chest where your heart beat faster at the abrupt presence.

“I felt something”

“I told you to leave, I’ll call the manager”

“I’ve never felt anything before…for anyone”

“YUNHO, LEAVE”

“you still remember my name”, he smiled and let his eyes fall on your lips and you really thought he must be high on something.

An awkward silence filled the room and his words got replayed in your head “ask that one more time and I’ll make sure you never forget it again”. He had achieved it…you couldn’t forget his name ever again. You couldn’t forget anything that happened that night ever again.

You looked anywhere but at him until he grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger and forced your head up to look in his eyes. The inked thumb played with your bottom lip, lightly pulling it down to expose your bottom teeth as his eyes remained glued on yours. You fought the urge to suck on it, but your knees weakened just at the thought. He looked good, like a god in your eyes.

“You made me like this”, he pointed at himself.

“like what?”

“look at me, I’m a wreck!”

“I did nothing!”

“I can’t get you out of my fucking head! I keep trying and trying but-!”

“Yunho, please leave”, you pressed your eyebrows together, raising them at the same time. If he continued you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your thoughts locked inside your mind for long.

“You’re ruining me!”

He widened his eyes and his voice got higher at that, like he just realized. If only he knew he was ruining you, too…but you thought he was ruining you in a completely different way. You had succeeded in winning the dare, but not in what he had warned you about. Not one day had passed without thinking of him and you were so mad at yourself for that, yet you couldn’t stop it. And every time you’d randomly see him on campus, your mind would go back to the dare and how he held you and how he had stopped his hands from moving when he realized you weren’t comfortable and how you so wanted to know him more than that, to know the real him. You were falling for him but, of course, you wouldn’t accept it. It’s not logical, you can’t fall for someone you don’t know. However, it all felt familiar. It felt like you were, again, reading one of those -way too corny- romantic novels in which the girl fell for the bad guy. They always ended with the guy taking the one thing he wanted and the girl having a broken heart and right now…you feel like you are the protagonist in one of those novels and he…he’s only there to take that one thing he always wants (however, me as the omniscient writer, I can guarantee you he meant you were ruining him the same way he ruined you).

“fuck, I need you”, he crashed his lips on yours fast, still holding your chin and now his other hand found your waist and held on it tightly but still loosely enough for you to break free if you wanted, but you didn’t. Your eyes fluttered close and you gave in, in an instant. How could you not? All you’ve been thinking about is him, but you knew it wasn’t right. He is Yunho, he’s a player, he’s nothing like you, he’s not for you. But the sweetness of the awry is too captivating not to give in. Your lips moved against his in an open mouthed kiss, your tongues danced together and your saliva got mixed with his, until he groaned and broke the kiss in need of air. You rested your head against the locker and looked up at him, his head hang low again…

“don’t you have anything to say?”, he spoke softly and you realized it was the first time you ever heard him talk like that, without anger or sarcasm in his voice.

“what do you expect me to say?”, you were too stuck to your mindset to notice the little things “that I’m glad you can’t forget how well you fucked me or to thank you for coming back for a second round?”, it hurt to say these. But Yunho was always a player, he always slept with girls and never spoke to them again and you obviously were one of them now.

“what? No”

“then what?”

“don’t you understand?” his eyebrows furrowed as he took a step back to take all your features in “I’ve never felt anything like this before. It was all about sex to me…always! I only cared about that. I only wanted my needs to be taken care of but that night…of the dare, I felt things for you and I got so fucking scared…that wasn’t me!”, a vein on his forehead was visible “I’ve warned all the girls I’ve ever been with not to catch feelings for me because I won’t be there for them. I’m not the type to get in relationships because attachment, that shit scares me! Yet, after we…did it, it hurt me to think I was only your way to win a game, a fucking game!”

“maybe it was your turn to feel how the girls you’re playing with, really feel”

That hurt.

He stayed silent for a bit. His mind was hazy and he couldn’t lie to himself, he had thought that this was the revenge that had been waiting for him.

“I’m a fucking asshole and I deserved it and maybe…this was a lesson for me but-” his expression proved pain “I can’t stop thinking about you and I hate myself for that…”

“…because I wanted to be more than just a dare to you…”

Your heart felt like it’d fly out of your chest and your breath got caught in your throat.

“…but I know I can’t change your mind about me, goddamnit!”

His fist hit the locker next to you, before turning around to walk in the room. Your heart clenched, realizing the meaning of his words. You weren’t the only one feeling differently. His head looked towards the ceiling and the new silence that filled the place gave you the chance to think and, maybe, now you know why his eyes have been red and it’s not from smoking something.

He’s hurting…and it’s the first time he’s feeling something like this, this type of pain.

He is finding himself, the self that’s been hiding under the tough, bad guy image he’s exposing to everyone. He needed this pain to finally see inside him and find the real him.

But he was wrong about one thing. You never had a complete opinion about him, therefore there was nothing for him there to change. There was only empty space where he could build the image about him in your head, and you wanted him to do that. You wanted him to put the foundations of his real image.

“Yunho”

“I’ve never let myself get attached to anyone but I only now realized that it’s uncontrollable. All this time I wasn’t controlling who I’ll get attached to and who not, it just didn’t happen…until I met you”. He, finally, turned to face you again.

He walked close to you again “and I know this will make me sound like a loser and, maybe, I am but…I think I’m falling for you”.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats, you’re sure about that, but his eyes were the most genuine ones you’ve seen in a while “Yunho-”

He shushed you by inhaling, ready to speak again but you were fast to prevent him “no, Yunho let me talk”, his eyes seemed sad but you got a hold of his hands that hang on each side of his body, to bring his attention back on you.

“I think I’m falling for you too”

You said fast and his breath got caught in his throat. Of course he didn’t expect to hear that. Your mind was going crazy at the moment with all the things you wanted to say but decided to only speak the important ones.

“…but I don’t think it’s right. You’ve been playing with girls all your life Yunho, maybe it’s in your nature, I don’t know…”

“but I can’t lie, I can’t stop thinking about you either…”, your eyes flickered between his.

You wanted him and he wanted you, it was obvious by both parties by now. You were willing to help him discover his real self and you were especially willing to let yourself fall in love but you were too inexperienced too to bear the pain it could cause you, if it didn’t work out.

“…I felt things too you know but you don’t know, even a little, how love feels and I can’t just be your lab rat, just one more experience for you. I can’t let myself fall deep and then have my heart shattered, I can’t take it!”, your eyebrows raised sympathetically and tears threatened to wet your cheeks.

“I know how it is to feel loved and now…I think I’m ready to be the one who loves, I’m ready to learn and-”

“I’m scared, Yunho”, your eyes met the marbled floor between your bodies.

“I’m scared too”

Both of you weren’t the most experienced people when it came to love and, especially, Yunho. But you wanted to try and learn and, even, fall for each other and Yunho didn’t want to give up on the first strong feelings he’s ever had. This meant something.

“but we can…”

“…discover ourselves together…just give me a chance-”, he held your hands in his. His eyes were glistening, like a million pieces of hope were in them.

“I don’t know, Yunho”

“let me make this work out and, maybe, if everything turns out well…I can call you mine”

Those tears that had been threating to fall, did wet your cheeks now as you looked at him again. No one had ever told you something like this before and you never thought you’d hear it for the first time from him. Yunho isn’t the guy everyone thought he was, he is much more than that. Maybe, he’s the meaning behind the saying: don’t judge a book by its cover. Yunho had never let his real emotions take over him and even if those emotions tried, he had his self locked up. It’s like his hidden self couldn’t take it anymore and when he met you the real him broke free from the cage Yunho, himself, had him locked up. If you connected all the dots, it made sense now. Yunho isn’t just a player, he’s an unexperienced boy who only wants to feel real attraction, instead of just the physical one. And maybe if you gave him the chance, he would.

“and I want to call you mine, too”

You’re indeed the protagonist of your own romantic novel but, no, this one won’t end like all the others.

“hell, I so wanna call you mine”, you shut your eyes tightly and exhaled…and your next words got Yunho dumbfounded.

“…let’s take it slowly…”

“…let’s start by being friends”

Yunho’s heart had never clenched so hard before. He thought he’d lose his balance right then and there and collapse like a child who had just found out that his brother had eaten the very precious sweet he’s been hiding from everyone. A soft frown found his lips as he spoke the first words that came to his dizzy mind.

“can friends do this?”

He cupped your cheeks and you felt his thumbs rub your apples, but you were the one to lean in this time. You kissed him hesitantly but he kissed back with no second thoughts. You didn’t wanna be his friend…you wanted to kiss his neck and his lips and his cheeks and all his being and, maybe, love him too. He took your arm and threw it over his shoulder and you wrapped them both around his neck. This kiss was slower than before, more passionate like there was meaning behind it. A tingling feeling was sent down your spine when you noticed none of you rushed to make it deeper. It was just enough to feel how the emotions he was experiencing were new to him and you were sure now, you’re willing to help him welcome them.

“because, if they can, I don’t think I’ll be able to call you friend for long”

“friends don’t do what I’m about to do either”, you said and let your hand slide down all the way from his neck, through his t-shirt, and to his jeans and rested it on his soft member. You didn’t know why you did that, but you knew the vibe was so different from the last time you had touched him there, more endearing, if you will. He stiffened sensibly and let his head hung low as a small moan left his lips. His hands found the hem of your t-shirt and, letting them slip underneath the fabric, he grasped your sides with the whole of his large palms.

Your lips found each other’s again in a sloppier kiss and with eyes flattered shut and heavy breaths against the other’s skin, your hand slipped under the jeans and the thin material of his boxers. You caressed him slowly, receiving a hum turned into a groan from him.

“yeah they don’t…but losers who fall for each other, do”

He said and pinched your sides making you take your hand out of his jeans. You stared at him for a while. Maybe if you both tried, you could learn together and you could fall together and you could help each other find your real selves.

Collecting his thoughts, for the first time after a long time, Yunho took your hand in his. You walked out of the ‘employees only’ room and the bar, with him guiding you like you didn’t know the place.

“Let me take my friend on a friend date for friends”

“I would accept if it wasn’t 4am…”

You wouldn’t be able to call him friend for long, either…

#ateez yunho #bad boy! yunho #yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho fluff #jeong yunho #kpop fics #kpop scenarios #ateez #ateez scenarios #Idek why I've been so insecure over bad boy! Yunho #Im sorry for ranting on the a/n about that I really have messy thoughts lately and idk if you can tell by my fics too #this may be way too fictional but it had to be doneee (especially the ending)#bias tag: ♔

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free--therapy · 3 years

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How to Identify Your Unhelpful Rules & Assumptions

Unhelpful rules are unreasonable, unrealistic, and rigid rules that we put in place for ourselves that end up governing our lives, while at the same time setting us up for failure that ends up maintaining our low self-esteems. They have developed as a result of negative experiences we may have had in our early lives. These rules then also lead to assumptions about facing certain situations, or rather avoiding situations because of the rules we put in place. Unfortunately this keeps us in a very tight box that never allows our beliefs to be challenged or changed.

Here's how you can begin to identify what unhelpful rules and assumptions that may be governing your life. When identifying these rules and assumptions, ask yourself:

What do I expect of myself when I'm at school? at work? at home?

What kinds of standards do I expect myself to meet? What do I find acceptable and unacceptable?

What kinds of things so I expect myself when I'm social with other people?

What do I expect of myself when in certain roles? (eg. friend, partner, child, parent, mentors)

What do I expect of myself when it comes to fun activities, recreation, or self-care?

To give you an idea of what rules and assumptions may sound like, they usually take the form of statements like:

"I must/should/have to always ____ or else _____." e.g. "I must always be the best at everything." "I must/should never ____." e.g. "I must never show any sign of weakness or back away from a challenge." "If ____, then ____." e.g. "If I show people the real me, then they're going to think I'm a loser." "If I don't ____, then ____." e.g. "If I don't do whatever it takes to be skinny, then I'll never have any friends."

Here are some good ways that we can practice identifying our rules and assumptions for living:

Thought Diaries When we write down our thoughts, we can notice that what is written are biased expectations and negative self-evaluations, a.k.a unhelpful thoughts. We can also notice that there is an extra layer behind those thoughts that stem from our core beliefs. Example: A thought like "This project sucks. I didn't have enough time to get pictures. I should have done better.", can stem from the rule, "I have to do everything perfectly." Sometimes there are rules and assumptions already present that generate or perpetuate unhelpful thoughts. Can you recognize if there are any rules and assumptions reflected in your unhelpful thoughts?

Themes We should ask ourselves if we notice any common themes that may be present to the concerns or issues we have or are occupied with. We should ask:

What types of situations do I experience the most anxiety or self-doubt in?

What aspects of myself am I the most harsh about?

What types of negative predictions do I make? (think cognitive distortions)

What behaviors do I see in other people that make me feel less confident about myself?

Negative Evaluation of Self + Others Let's consider the following questions:

What situations do I tend to put myself down?

What don't I allow myself to do?

What aspects of myself so I criticize the most? What does that say about what kinds of expectations have for myself?

If I relax my standards, what so I think might happen? What kind of person do I think I'll become?

What do I criticize in other people? What expectations of them do I have? What kinds of standards do I expect them to live up to?

Direct Messages Some of the rules and assumptions we may live by have come from our family members or mentors when we were younger. Let's ask ourselves:

What was I told about what I should and shouldn't do?

What was said to me when I wasn't able to meet someone else's expectations?

What happened when I didn't obey their rules? What did they tell me?

What did I have to do in order to get their praise and/or affection?

What did I get punished for? criticized for? ridiculed for?

How did important people to me respond when I did something wrong at school? at home? in public?

It's definitely interesting when you come to realize some of the things our families may have said to us that have practically become a motto or mantra, ends up being carried with us and shaping our view of the world. Examples: "People who are nice to you always want something in return.", "If you don't aim high, you'll never succeed.", "The only person you can depend on is yourself.", "Don't just worry about yourself, worry about others too.", etc. Can you think of any sayings that your parents or mentors have repeated a lot that you still recall today?

Taking some time to write down a lot of these rules that we have set up for ourselves can help us in starting to debunk some of the more rigid ones, so we can look at them more realistically and objectively. We can be surprised by how many of the things we were taught may not even be true, and have been contributing to our low self-esteem when they never needed to.

The next step will be to challenge these thoughts by unlearning what we may have believed and learning what is actually true versus what is untrue. We can do this by:

Questioning the impact and unhelpfulness that our rules and assumptions might have

Identifying any advantages and disadvantages

Develop new rules and assumptions

Thinking of new ways to behave to put those new rules into place

It'll definitely be difficult since a lot of the beliefs have been so engrained in us, but it's definitely possible! Like every new skill in life, practice, practice, practice!

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averysmallscreamingfrog · 3 years

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"you mean she isn't just smoking a cigarette?" (Three Weed Smoking Girlfriends x GNReader)

screams. i can't remember why i decided to do this but i have got to follow through. will i make this into a series? i mean who knows, certainly not i.

cw: use of the word queers, mentioned past manipulation and bullying (some towards reader), kind of bittersweet ending??? maybe i'll make a part two to fix that whoops

1,317 words

A deep sigh escaped your nose as you shuffled out of the bar and into the street. You had joined a small handful of people as they left the bar as well, fully understanding what was about to happen. Jory didn't mess around when people disrespected him. Everyone in this town knew that.

It was a small town. Everyone knew everyone and you'd lived there your entire life. Some complained and couldn't wait to get out of town the second they graduated, some stayed home, comfortable in the world they grew up in and knew. You were more the latter type. Not that you weren't curious what lied in wait for you out in the big wide world. You actually had a few friends who had moved away after school.

Blaiz, Chas-Chas, and Funk.

You'd met them in the beginning of your sophomore year at Green Grove High and you had hit it off right away. They were only best friends then. You were all weird kids without a solid friend group, social floaters that never really fit in. Being the labelled 'queers' of the school didn't really help. You hadn't figured yourself out yet by that time. They all identified as bisexual and smoked weed like it was water. That's what led to their infamous relationship with Jory.

Everyone knew Jory, just how everyone knew your group of floaters. He was better known for his position in the school social pyramid as the the quarterback on the football team and as a huge bully. He was a player and in your completely unbiased opinion, a gigantic loser.

Well, maybe not completely unbiased. You had been there through the entirety of his relationship with the girls. You'd seen everything.

He met Blaiz first, apparently catching her skipping class to smoke. He genuinely thought she was smoking a "weed cigarette" and refused to call them anything other than "a bunt" despite being corrected several times. They were on and off for a while until he turned to Chas-Chas, then Funk, then all three of them together. In the beginning they were pretty happy and you were happy for them! As far as high school relationships go, it seemed pretty fulfilling and well-meaning for a while. That was until Jory really started to show his true self.

He'd picked on you a few times before his relationship with the girls, but it only got worse when it began. You slowly started to notice how angry he would get, how he was pushing the girls to leave you behind more often, and if you tried to talk to them without him around he would be furious with you and threaten you.

It felt insane how in a matter of months he'd managed to make them completely abandon you.

You didn't talk anymore, you didn't hang out, you were pretty sure they'd even blocked you on discord. You still kept an eye on them though. You reached out whenever you could, not that they would respond. You noticed the way they started to close themselves off. Blaiz wasn't nearly as confident anymore, Chas-Chas was always hanging off Jory's arm and she looked dead inside. Funk... you were pretty sure Funk had even stopped writing music because of him. It broke your heart. After a year of no contact from them had gone by you were going to give up.

Until that summer when Blaiz showed up at your home at 3 in the morning with red eyes and a raw throat to match, Chas-Chas and Funk in similar states right behind her. You let them in with no question. When you sat them down on your couch Chas-Chas broke down into Funk's arms and it was clear that they'd all been upset for quite a while. You looked to Blaiz in worry, but all you got was a tired shake of the head as she rested her own head on Funk's shoulder and entwined their hands together.

That night started the rekindling of your friendship. Your senior year you spent every hour together. It didn't matter what you were doing, be it hanging out while they smoked, listening to Funk's fresh tunes, cuddling with Chas-Chas, drawing with Blaiz, or (as you spent most of your time) doing some combination of it all while you hid from Jory.

He was different now. You'd learned that night they had broken up with him. He had pummeled some freshman who made a joke about him overreacting and the kid ended up in the hospital. That was their breaking point. He'd been angry before and he was getting out of control. They were scared of him. So they finally left him and you had practically become public enemy number 1 to him. If they saw him coming they ushered you away and if he tried to talk to them again you'd drag them away as quick as you could. All of you were mildly terrified of him.

It was like that for all of senior year and even a while after you graduated. You stuck together and took an off year before any of you went to college. It was nice then and much easier to avoid him. After that they all decided they wanted to move on. Which you understood, they had promising careers waiting for them.

Chas-Chas wanted to be a therapist and all of you supported her ferociously. She was one of the kindest and most caring people you would ever meet, a listener, and a little emotional. She loved hanging out with you because you would always drop what you were doing to hold her, running your fingers through her dark hair.

"Your scalp massages are godly," she'd always say in her sweet little voice, "I don't think I could ever live without them."

"What about the content of my character? Am I only good to you as a head massager? I'm hurt!"

She'd catch the teasing tone in your voice, but every time and without fail she would giggle and sit up to hold your hand as she listed the things she loved about you.

Funk was chasing her dream of being a musician. She'd been dead set on it since you had met her and the girls, even tried to get the four of you to form a band at one point. (It was a good attempt but it failed miserably. You, Blaiz and Chas-Chas were not nearly as musically inclined as her.) You loved the uncharacteristic excitement that would overtake her every time she discovered something new and musical.

"Y/N!!!" You keeled over, quickly grabbing the legs that wrapped around your waist as a pair of hands pulled back on your neck and nearly choked you. Any normal person would freak out, but seeing the uneven strands of blue leaning over your head you relaxed.

"Wh-"

"You're coming over to my house after school today! I just made up a new melody and I need your opinion and your memory so I don't forget it by the end of classes today."

You laughed lightly, now carrying her off to her next class (It was practically on the other side of the school from yours but you didn't mind being late, it wouldn't be the first time).

Then there was Blaiz.

Blaiz...

She was the one who kept all of you in line. She made you make up if you argued, she shot down all of the stupid ideas, fixed you up if any of you got hurt in the process of said stupid ideas with a sigh and a gentle "I told you so". She was a guardian angel and all of you loved her.

Almost as much as you all loved each other.

This thought brought you out of your head as you trudged across the street towards your apartment. The bittersweet memories always made you wish you had ben just a little more self aware back then. Maybe you could have had your own relationship. Maybe you could all have forgotten about Jory and the past and lived happily ever after in the kingdom of sunshine and rainbows.

Maybe you should move out of town. Then maybe you could stop thinking about them. For now however, you would spend another night alone in your apartment with your memories.

i misspelled expected but im not gonna make another makesweet gift to fix it 😀

#my three weed smoking girlfriends #x reader #reader insert fic #this was entirely for fun and now i think i might cry #why did i even write this #mistakes were made #anyways #gonna post the phrog art i made

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

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I [still] know what you did last Halloween...

Part one // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This is the second part to a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. This is a multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Yes, I had to include Spike. Yes, I am sorry. Reader lived with Giles, but is not related.

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Alcohol consumption. Swearing.

Sunnydale students: SOS

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

The Sunnydale slasher strikes again, leaving one teen dead and two injured. There was a house party last night [12/10/1999] which left the student body with one less. The identity of the teen, who is yet to be identified based on extensive injuries should be announced to the public after the family is informed.

However, it makes us at the Sunnydale Express question: was it the teens fault for breaking curfew?

It was the day of the funerals. There was to be two back-to-back.

The first funeral was Giles’. It was an intimate ceremony, the core group and a Watcher who had never met Giles alive. He was there to ‘oversee’ matters but Wesley told him where to go. This had surprised you, the man wasn’t usually so forthright but he had appeared to be fond of Giles in some way.

Your group stood, staring into the open grave. You were now minus two members. There had been some crying earlier, but everyone’s faces were stony now. As if they were set in place. Exhausted from crying, not sure if you would die from dehydration if you wept another drop.

All of the colour had been sucked out of the world and you were all now aware that you were only briefly passing through this life. You weren’t aware everyone else was sharing your cynical thought, but they were.

You felt the most immeasurable guilt. You felt guilty for Giles’ death. For being the reason he was gutted so brutally. Used to write a crude message on the wall. His life had come down to being the ink in someone’s pen and it angered you that this was what his life had been reduced to. But mostly, it sickened you.

And, as Willow tapped you on the shoulder and gestured that it was time. Your mind still trying to wrap your head around the imagines you had seen in the past week. It was never going to get easier.

It was all a blur. It was screaming and rushing of bodies all around you.

The room had started to thin. Only the injured and your friends remained. Willow had started to mutter something, a kind of protective spell - she grabbed your hand needing your strength.

The slayers danced around each other, their fight mean and brutal. he appeared human, but his reflexes were good. Almost, too good.

He was blocking them at every turn. He appeared to be enjoying it. He was studying them. Learning their movement. Anticipating what would come next. They fought hard. Buffy hissing as the tip of the scythe cut into the flesh on her upper arm.

Then it happened. You could barely stomach thinking about it. Xander had walked into the room-

Xander had been a good friend to you. He was never perfect and you liked that about him, he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. He looked out for you and he had been there for you when you had almost broken down and run to the police months ago. He had been firm that it had to be kept secret what you had done, but never refused you a shoulder to cry on.

His funeral was a lavish affair, his parents turning on the waterworks despite everyone knowing how they would treat him at times. They had paid for only the best, with a large number of people attending. The church was packed out. It made you wander that if any of them knew what he had been involved in with the rest of you, would they be so quick to say they had always liked him? Always seen him as brave and strong?

Any time the family saw any of the people that were there that night they scowled. They glared. And they burst into more tears. Why were you spared, when he wasn’t?

The six of you huddled together. Oz was more distant than usual, his hand on Willow’s shoulder as she couldn’t control her sobbing now. Buffy was sat with you, trying to hold it together as you wrapped an arm around her - willing yourself not to fall apart either. Cordelia and Faith had started bickering. It was getting progressively louder and your group was getting funny looks. They eventually stopped but only when the priest shushed them and started to say the final words before Xander was cremated.

Bravery. It was a word that had been said a lot that day, in that stuffy church hall. But it rang true, clearer than the tolling bell.

He had been brave.

Everything stilled when he entered the room, as if time had been slowed for that one moment. And who knows, maybe it had. It was Sunnydale. The masked figure stopped fighting Buffy and stepped over an injured party-goer. He had been waiting for this. the guest of honour.

The masked figure had just been killing time fighting the slayers. Xander’s fate was decided before he had got to the party that night.

Xander’s face had twisted in horror, his eyes met yours and you started to scream. He nodded, resigning himself to what was coming. The figure swung his scythe back, shrugging Faith off him who had tried to tackle him and swung at Xander.

A sickening noise. A splatter of blood sprayed the entire room. Willow dropped your hand in horror, stunned into silence as Xander’s head rolled to Buffy’s feet, the same look in his eye.

There were media crews set up everywhere outside the church. They were using Xander to tell their stories. It would anger you, but you felt too washed out to say anything. You didn’t even comment when you overheard Harmony on her fifth interview, now talking to the local news outlet.

“Did you know the victim well?”

“Well, yeah. He was a total dork- which was so cute we all loved him” She smiled saccharine sweet making sure nobody had noticed her initial look, “Like, everyone wanted to date him he was a total stud-bucket”

“Were you there that night?”

“Yeah – everyone was, duh! But Carrie totally crashed and I don’t hang around with losers. Even being seen with her is like social suicide!” Harmony maintained firmly, as if that was the most important thing she had been interviewed on, “So I left early”

“Okay- that’s great Harmony. One last question: how are you and the rest of your high school class going to cope after this devastating loss?”

“Well, we’re all gonna graduate as long as we’re not all dead first. I am going to be a counsellor at Camp Crystal Lake in the summer. I’m just pleased to have a break from Sunnydale – senior year has been kind of a bummer so far what with the killings” Harmony shrugged and turned away, swishing her long blonde hair as she walked and her clique followed her. Even Cordelia rolled her eyes as Harmony walked past your group.

You stood motionless for a moment, it felt like a second to all of you but to onlookers there had been enough time to paint a detailed impressionist painting. The only title fitting was: loss.

“Where do we go from here?” someone finally spoke up.

“To the function”

“I-I don’t think I can” Willow sobbed into Oz’s shoulder.

“It’s worse if we don’t show our faces. Even if it’s just for a minute…” You suggest, really wishing the words hadn’t come out of your mouth. You didn’t want to have to face Xander’s family again, “Angel said he might come, what with the sun going down soon”

“Free alcohol. Score” Faith smiled.

“You’re right” Buffy said, still staring into the distance.

“You wanna get drunk?” Faith raised an eyebrow that lowered when Buffy shook her head.

“No. Y/n’s right. We should go. But we all need to talk – in private, when our heads are clearer. Need to figure out what’s going on” Buffy spoke, her usual self-assured tone was weakened slightly. Her voice hoarse from all of the crying.

You all nodded distantly, walking into the function room together, but feeling miles apart.

Death! Destruction! Mayhem!

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Rioting of many stores in the centre of town has been widely reported by those on the ground. Many young people, have taken to the streets to ‘protest’ the curfew. These troubled teens do not understand the importance of hard work and have instead taken to looting and picking up where the killer left off: damning our town.

They have old friends to meet; Disco music to dance to and big ticket items to steal from struggling small businesses.

Meanwhile, the death toll of the cases related to the ‘Sunnydale Slasher’ is now 5, and we ask the residents of Sunnydale: when will they learn?

You walked into the magic shop, one of the only shops on the row that appeared to be untouched. Maybe people knew better than to loot a magic shop. The rest were fair game. You had been hoping to find some kind of ingredients that would help you sleep. Or at least, allow you to relax for even a minute. You felt responsible. For everything and you weren’t sure how to deal with it anymore.

But apparently, this store hadn’t been untouched by those taking what they wanted. You stumbled in on a vampire having a midday snack. Spike. Shit.

You started to back out slowly, but he had seen you. He dropped the corpse of the shop-owner and stepped over her, walking slowly towards you. You sighed, you really weren’t in the mood for this. Everyone around you was dying and now you had to talk to one of the undead.

“Don’t move” He warned, pointing at you as he licked the side of his mouth to catch the blood that had been dripping there. When he noticed that you weren’t even scared, almost a little bored – waiting for him to finish he got annoyed, “You know what I could do? I could snap your neck and-”

“I already have one killer after me, what’s one more?” You sighed again. He raised an eyebrow and you just shrugged, not willing to get into it. Not until he said something.

You had sat, sliding down the wall and he had for some unknown reason (to either of you) decided to join you. He was sobering up and needed some kind of distraction at any rate. He had been staring, sitting beside you and scanning your features in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable if you had cared what he was deciding on.

“You seem different, y/n. From last time, I mean. Not sad, but damned near it - you’re almost making me feel better about my Dru”

“I killed someone. Well, not me, but I helped cover it up…” You admit, after a huge sigh. Spike barely even blinked, this kind of confession didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Who did?”

“Slayers”

“I think they have a licence to kill, love. Don’t make it right but there it is” he shrugged, ready to get back to his feet and look for some liquor. Until you spoke again.

“He was human” You say softly, “Mr Bates. He had a name and a-a family-”

“I’ve killed hundreds of humans, so what?” He spoke over your turmoil. He didn’t feel guilt in that way, so he couldn’t really relate to your low mood.

“It hurts. It aches… but worst of all it makes every experience I’ve ever had… tainted. Wrong in ways I can never describe. It’s like I’m walking through a nightmare, and everyone else is right there with me. It’s not as if I can go to the police. Or talk to anyone else about it… not properly”

“Thanks, that’s sure to make a fella feel special” implying he wasn’t counted in anyone. But he wasn’t very hurt by the statement. This was the first full conversation you had together, he wasn’t that invested in your relationship.

“You know what I mean” You shrugged. And he did. He started to explain to you why he was back. About Dru and everything that had happened since you last saw him. You tried your best to wade through your own thoughts and chip in here and there. He clearly needed to vent too.

You and Spike eventually left together. You had convinced him, after hearing of his predicament, he needed to convince Dru to take him back and he agreed. You walked part of the way before he was going to go and get into his car and you were going to head home.

Night had fallen and you were about to part ways when he came for you. Spike heard him before you saw him. But the figure still made the both of you flinch slightly, before Spike rolled his shoulders and decided he would have to fight doubly hard for showing that weakness.

The hood was down and you could see the mask properly. It was a black material, with a chiselled grey skull etched so forcefully it was as if it was his actual face. The bones were harsh and looked as if it could cut despite it being a plastic mask.

Spike ran straight for him and started to match his offensive blows with his own. Spike appeared to have the upper hand as you just stood and watched. You knew if it came down to it, you could be collateral damage and neither of them would be too bothered.

Somehow, Spike had been knocked to the floor and before he could get up, a scythe had been lodged deep into his torso, hitting the ground beneath him with a horrible metallic sound. The reaper hacked at Spike, who hissed and cursed at him, but didn’t die as the killer had suspected. The reaper stepped back a few paces. It allowed Spike to get to his feet. There was a lot of blood running down Spike’s torso. His shirt was in tatters.

“I bloody liked that shirt!” He snarled, looking down. Trying not to choke on the blood that was moving up his trachea. If he had been mortal, he would have died ten minutes ago.

The masked figure cocked his head, figuring something out. Not working. Not human.

Spike charged at him, throwing punches and blocking the scythe easily. He was stronger. Spike had bit into him and knocked him to the floor. He started to stamp on him repeatedly until a gargled choking sound was heard from behind the mask. He landed on more swift kick for good measure before deciding he was as good as dead.

Spike turned back to you, for some unknown reason, and for probably the first time in his un-life he went to check on you. A human. He felt that you had some kind of bond after you both shared your woes. He was about to ask if you needed any help before he drained the killer and left to find Dru, but the words never left his lips.

“Spike!” You screamed as you saw the killer rise to his feet and remove a stake from his pocket. It all happened in slow motion. Spike wasn’t able to turn quick enough, he had been caught off-guard. Bollocks. The killer plunged the wooden object directly into his heart and the bleach-blonde vampire exploded into a pile of dust.

“You did this” He spoke for the first time. His voice like gravel. He knelt and took a handful of dust and walked towards you. You stumbled back, hitting a brick wall. You had nowhere to run. You were backed into a corner. He threw the dust over you, leaving you spluttering and rubbing your eyes. You were expecting death any moment, but it never came.

When you opened your eyes again, there was nobody except you in the street.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Many have petitioned the Mayors office due to the large volume of litter and dust that has appeared, often overnight, leaving citizens having to take matters into their own hands. The large number of ash filling our streets tells us that unauthorised fires and barbecues have been set up through town with little being done by authorities to subdue this illegal activity – especially after our newly enforced curfew.

We implore the mayor’s office to make an immediate press release and ensure there is enough man-power to make sure our humble town is cleared during the night.

You were in Giles’ house. It had been left to you. You were touched, but every footstep you made in that house filled your body with guilt.

You were hosting a scooby meeting. You didn’t have any food in, everyone had started to pass around Giles’ single malt, drinking it straight from the glass. Even Buffy took a sip every now and again. You all needed it. Life was starting to become unbearable. Cordelia had joined late, rushing straight from cheer practice.

“What do we know?” She asked as she set her bag down and looked around as if you had the killer tied up in the bathroom, waiting for her to come so you could unmask him.

“Zip. Nothing”

“The killer is targetting us, that’s all we know. Some kind of twisted revenge. We just need to find out how he knows and why he’s so strong”

“Simple then” Faith shook her head.

“Oh and he takes out anyone in his way, so it’s not just us”

“What did the swim team ever do to him?” You wondered out loud

“It’s the tight pants, he likes a little modesty” Faith snickered and you scowled. How could she be so okay with this? She was the one that had stuck the stake in his hear, finished him off. You were feeling all this guilt and she just didn’t seem to even care.

“But does he even have any proof? Let’s just go to the police and say we’re being targeted”

“Yeah there’s witness protection! We could get new names!” Willow backed Buffy up quickly.

“That won’t change anything. We’re still killers” You mutter and everyone stopped. You had never said anything like that out loud before. You were usually the one that kept everyone optimistic. But it was too hard at the moment.

“Shut up! We’re not! It was an accident. Just an accident”

“How do you explain Giles?” you said glumly, glancing sideways to where his body had been.

“What is up your ass today? God, people are dead. We all feel it. But you’re just giving up! It’s not right!” Cordelia shouted.

“I’m living in our dead librarians house. Rent free” You sighed, “The house we cleaned and made look like an accident”

“Can it, y/n. None of this is our fault. We gotta do this or we’d be in jail”

“But if we keep doing this, we’re going to die” You replied, “Like Spike… he was gone. Just… dust”

“Well, I can’t say I’m gonna shed many tears” Buffy muttered.

“He was… nice. The last thing he did before he died was come over to check on me”

“Oh come on, y/n! He was probably gonna eat you”

“Whatever. I know what I saw and I can’t help feeling that you’re suddenly on team psycho” you muttered. Faith was watching in interest, but didn’t speak up again. She took another swig of alcohol and shrugged. You couldn’t help think you saw a satisfied smirk on her face, but it may have been a trick of the light. Or the whiskey. You set the glass down and went to see what Willow was looking at some research.

Giles had left some books open on his desk. He had been looking into the Sunnydale slasher, it seemed. When the books gave you nothing, you turned to the internet. You all started looking for some magical solution. There had to be something.

As the night wore on and the words got blurrier, it was getting harder to concentrate. And harder to get along.

“There’s no- no trace!” Willow said, getting more frustrated, “I can’t find anything”

“Maybe if someone did less cheating on her boyfriend and more reading” Cordelia snapped.

“That’s so not fair! I’m doing more than you!”

“Will, you’re doing the same amount as her” You offered. Cordelia had been researching too.

“Why are you always on her side – you’re supposed to be my best friend”

“I’m just being fair”

“You think this doesn’t involve you, huh?” Faith suddenly stood up and stared you down. You had been the first to admit you were at the centre of it all, but the way she phrased the comment, just made you snap.

“Well, you were the bitch that killed the poor man and managed to be surprisingly cool about it. Maybe you’ve done this before. Maybe, you did it on purpose!” You shouted and Faith pushed you hard. You landed on your ass.

“Fuck you!” She screamed. Not as cool or collected as you thought. The flash in her eyes spelled danger. It concealed guilt and deceit. It told you everything you needed to know. You got to your feet, walked straight out of the room and slammed your bedroom door. Allowing them to let themselves out.

Cordelia had gotten worked up as you stormed out, standing up to Buffy and shouting, “Sunnydale would have been better without you in it! All you do is attract stuff like this. You know who I blame, Buffy? You. You’re a Slayer all wow and look at me but what have you done? What have you done to protect any of us?!” Cordelia flung her arms out in annoyance, the glass that had been holding the whiskey flying out of her hand and crashing to the floor.

“Cordelia-” Buffy started.

“No, let her speak” Faith said nodding along.

“They’re picking us off one by one and of you – either of you – have done anything except hide bodies and celebrate that you’re slayers so you’re not gonna die! What about us!? What about people that are meant to be your friends?” Cordelia shouted. She was scared. She was angry. She couldn’t trust any of them anymore. You had given in. Willow just agreed with Buffy and she had a history with her. Buffy and Faith didn’t seem to be anything and she just wanted to escape. Hopefully with her life intact.

“Cor, we’re doing everything-”

“You’re not! You’re so not!”

“So what’s your plan then, huh? Lay down and wait for the killer to come get you? ‘Cause I haven’t heard anythin’ helpful come out of your mouth” Faith

“Shut up anyway, you just got here and you expect us to care? I hope you go next!” Cordelia screamed in Faith’s face. Faith just shrugged, but the whole room could tell that had stung her. She then turned back to Buffy, “This is your fault, Buffy. This, everything that has happened since last Halloween is your fault”

“Get out” Buffy said firmly, “Go!” she raised her voice as a tear slid down her cheek and Willow quickly went to comfort her.

“Fine. I’ve had enough! I’m leaving – I’m moving! I don’t wanna see any of you ever again!” Cordelia shouted, slamming the front door behind her and cursing every single one of you as she huffed and stalked away into the night.

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autumnblogs · 3 years

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Day 68: Reunion

https://homestuck.com/story/7457

Just because Vriska is happy to take credit for everyone’s shit being in order doesn’t really mean all the credit realistically belongs to her.

Which isn’t to say she gets none of the credit; her willingness to time-travel (which Dave is presumably still hung up on) and her ability to put Jade to sleep definitely helped things not go straight to shit.

More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/7458

Vriska’s presence, while tactically necessary for victory, sucks practically all the air out of the room. Almost no one else can get a word in edgewise. While she’s around post-retcon, practically everyone else is reduced to a secondary character in any conversation with her. Luckily, she doesn’t stick around long - just exactly long enough to be useful.

https://homestuck.com/story/7459

The Scourge Sisters are complicated characters.

Terezi spends a lot of this conversation hedging. It seems like, however well-intentioned and “necessary” Terezi’s choice to save Vriska’s life might have been for the greater good, the story passes very little judgement one way or the other on her whether that was right.

On the one hand, it’s the thing that Terezi did choose, and it seems appropriate that if she were going to use her power to reverse an action, it should be to reverse a choice that she made.

On the other hand... Vriska shows us that reasoning may not necessarily be sufficient, or redemptive - and indeed, while Terezi’s decision does repair things for just about everyone else... it doesn’t actually make things too much better for her in the end.

She spends a lot of time hedging throughout this conversation, using qualifiers like, Might, and I Think, and I Say - she wants to avoid directly contradicting Vriska, and there’s something deeply disconcerting about it.

Choosing not to kill Vriska may have spared her the burden of that on her conscience, but it ultimately doesn’t seem to have spared her confidence.

https://homestuck.com/story/7460

I’ve always felt like there’s an eeriness to the way the characters act here, and I feel like part of why they might feel so fake is they feel like they’ve almost kind of... reset to pre-Act 6 characterizations? The broad-strokes characterization we got from the Vriskagram leaves little for us to work with in terms of imagining their new inner lives, and because so much of Homestuck operates literally on the narrative layer, any development that we didn’t see didn’t happen; it’s completely inconsequential.

And with the characters all interacting in this no-stakes environment, they feel less like Homestuck characters, and uncomfortably more like Sitcom Characters - static, a set of self-referential character traits.

They’re still the same people - that’s the nature of the Ultimate Self - but they don’t feel like it. Or at the very least, they don’t feel like it while they’re on the Lilypad here.

Let’s see where we go.

https://homestuck.com/story/7480

John is weirdly amicable with Vriska considering the terms that they parted on the last time that they spoke - especially considering he overtly resisted the idea of giving Vriska the Ring of Life to bring her back from the dead.

Perhaps the rush at seeing all of his friends happy and alive is enough to wash that over.

https://homestuck.com/story/7487

A few things from this conversation;

The first thing is that in spite of immediately, loudly, and insistently proclaiming that he is now real as a motherfucker can be, Dave immediately starts qualifying, and explaining himself in verbal essay form the moment his own emotions are actually what’s being examined.

He directly identifies the idea of living up to an ideal of masculinity with the idea of heroism, so that’s points for my Caliborn essay, hah!

https://homestuck.com/story/7488

As predicted by Homosuck, Dave and Karkat’s relationship isn’t just turbulent, it’s anime turbulent! Hot and cold, tsundere even.

https://homestuck.com/story/7491

The parallel between Dave’s bicurious thoughts (and almost certain bisexuality) and John entertaining Black Emotions for Terezi is a weird way to do that, but I guess nobody ever accused Homestuck of being a normal work of fiction.

https://homestuck.com/story/7493

It’s nice for Rose to finally reach a place of some comfort in her storyline; a place where she can be rigorously self-critical without succumbing to pessimism and despair.

It’s nice. That’s all.

https://homestuck.com/story/7497

Jake also engaging in some rigorous self-critique, and what with his status as the Page of Hope, I don’t believe that in the long term, he will succumb to pessimism and despair either.

No sir - I think that whatever other somewhat bastardy things Jake may be, he is not, at the end of the day, a loser.

https://homestuck.com/story/7499

The great irony here, is we know of course that Vriska is wrong. Tavros is wrong too to just flatter Jake. He needs support; he needs help. He doesn’t need to give up either by falling prey to Vriska’s pessimism, or to Tavros’s false confidence.

https://homestuck.com/story/7500

I think it’s really interesting that what Vriska makes this all about is the fact that she blinded Terezi, and not that she crippled Tavros. There’s always been a degree to which, outside of her adversarial courtship with Tavros, she just doesn’t really treat him like a person - she treats him like an object of gratification, or a project, or collateral in her relationship with someone else, but never legitimately as a peer. The fact that she murdered Aradia and crippled Tavros doesn’t even factor into her self-estimation (especially now that she has resurrected Tavros as a sprite.)

https://homestuck.com/story/7501

Remarkably, Vriska actually has some good fucking advice for someone else for once. I don’t think that anyone should be comfortable with their flaws - what is legitimately a flaw is what estranges us from other people, causes us to hurt them, and ourselves. CERTAINLY no one should be as comfortable with them as Vriska is with herself.

But humans are all intrinsically flawed, it’s not something we can grow past, at least not in this life. Perfection is not something that can be attained to. But living with other human beings, being able to survive with them means being able to be comfortable now with our flaws, but with their flaws. I think that’s probably the meaning of forgiveness. Knowing that other people will hurt us, and deciding we can be down with that.

https://homestuck.com/story/7502

Roxy and Dave are adorable, enough said.

I like Dave’s description of his floppy imaginary men - comparing them to puppets, and the way he describes them railing against the confines of their virtual prison feels like a really obvious metaphor for exactly what the characters of Homestuck are busy doing.

https://homestuck.com/story/7504

I think someone - maybe even Andrew - has stated that the entire point of Rose’s quest is to alienate her from it. It’s like Baby’s First Character Arc - personal growth all wrapped up in bright pastels. Exactly the sort of thing that would piss off a challenge-seeking young lady like Rose.

The point of Rose’s rejection of her quest is that there are not arbitrary loops someone has to jump through in order to earn personhood. Or as Dave puts it in a moment, “we don’t have arcs.”

https://homestuck.com/story/7509

There’s an eerie extent to which, as friendly as she is with Vriska, Kanaya seems almost to talk about her as a dead woman walking. Even talk to her as a dead woman walking.

She has a certain emotional distance to her - fond of her, but not attached, even resigned to Vriska being the way she is. It’s like small-talk between people who used to know each other. I get the impression less that Kanaya is being friendly with Vriska, and more that... she’s being nice to each Vriska, rather than genuinely friendly.

Maybe it’s because she is moving forward into the future with people that she loves, while Vriska...

Vriska is living in the past; preoccupied with her own past misdeeds (to some extent or another), preoccupied with Lord English’s narrative, and her need to be the one who destroys him

https://homestuck.com/story/7513

It only occurred to me at this very moment to talk about John and Jake’s shared love of terrible movies; and the way in which they both model themselves off of their movie heroes.

https://homestuck.com/story/7514

John’s warm positivity toward Jake is... honestly, one of the best things in the comic. I’m sad we don’t get to see more of Jake’s character arc, and I’ve always thought it was kind of a crime that Homestuck just leaves him here, more or less.

Reunion done, we’ll pause here for the night, and continue tomorrow. Fairly short episode tonight, but in terms of the amount of text, that was a lot of reading, so I forgive myself.

See you tomorrow for some strategizing, and some more problems and feelings.

For now, Cam signing off, Alive and thanks to you guys, not Alone.

#commentary #liveblogging

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randomnumbers751650 · 3 years

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Sometimes people ask a thing like “how did it get so big?” This is almost like any meme in the internet and sometimes even whatever is in the Top 10 bestselling books of any list. Due to being a historian of economic thought, I’m study the ascension of the idea of the entrepreneur as a hero, how it happened and its consequences, both good and bad. Therefore, I couldn’t avoid Ayn Rand and Atlas Shrugged. It wasn’t a good experience and I’ll talk more about it under the cut.

I think we all know how much of a controversial person Ayn Rand was. But it worked. She’s one of the most influential writers of the 20th century whether we like it or not. Like, a lot of people say she hates the poor and minorities. It’s even a meme, like there’s a joke SCP that makes everything it comes into contact unnecessarily verbose and one of the incidents was a sticky note written “I hate poor people” that becomes a copy of Atlas Shrugged.

After reading her work, I can safely say these are traps she set up in her own work. Not only that, these traps hide the true problems of her work.

In first place, we need to consider her demographic target. That wasn’t me, if I wasn’t researching, I wouldn’t even bother reading it. Like, I remember I saw in the internet a game called “The Jihad to Destroy Barney” and someone commenting: “because 20-years old thinking they’re funny were obviously the demographic target of Barney the Dinosaur”. Rand knew what her demographic target was, after working in Hollywood for so many years.

One might think that her demographic target was people like her, but it’s wider than that. Through all her book, producers (she doesn’t use the word ‘entrepreneur’, but it’s obviously the same) are the protagonists. Dagny shows her dedication to her railway, always looking for ways to improve it, to hire the best people to work with her, to deliver the best product she can, always treating others with respect. All the producers are people full of passion for what they do. They do not just for the money, they do it to express themselves (but still want/should be paid).

Meanwhile their enemies are the government organs that want to curb them, by introducing legislation to make everything equal, like people are forbidden to be fired, prices are controlled and so on. And they are evil, they are hypocrites who don’t really believe in the altruistic values they spouse or they are too dumb to realize they’re being hypocrites. They are always men in position of power, evil bureaucrats, quisling industrialists, hypocrite union leaders (though the union leader, Fred Kinnan, interestingly is the most sympathetic of the villains, and actually gets away scot free, to the point some think he’s a Galt agent undercover).

Rand aimed for the real life entrepreneur identify with the “heroes”. All the companies have names of their founders in their titles, Taggart Terminal, d’Anconia Copper, and so on. Their enemies show their true faces by naming themselves with abstract titles, like National Union and so on. She aimed the person who ever had to deal with the Health Department, with the Labor Department, who has to fills forms and more forms and say “Wouldn’t the world be a terrible place if it wasn’t for you? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you didn’t have to do all of this? If you just had the opportunity to truly express yourself? Free from the prying eyes of government inspectors? Rejoice, because I have the answer!”

Rand answers this with the Galt’s Gulch – a utopia of freedom, where the word “give” is taboo, while leaving the outside world of looters and moochers to destroy itself. All the producers are gathered to escape the terrible collectivist world around her. Everyone has money and, since they’re all enlightened by the principles of greed and selfishness, the prices are small, even symbolic. Monopolies are good and rivals are always being taken down, and they rejoice with it, both winner and loser, because they contributed to the expansion of human spirit.

When John Galt says “I swear – by my life and my love of it – that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine”, he’s implying all men who belong to this valley. They are not ashamed of taking low jobs, because they know their true power is what they do with their minds and hands. Francisco is shown to be perfect in everything he does, makes one think he’s a Gary Stu, but it’s because, according to the book’s philosophy, if you’re a true man, anything you do you become the best. For this reason, Galt’s Gulch is quite diverse, because it has not only industrialists, but also factory workers and small businessmen who share their ideals. And not only workers, but also artists, intellectuals and others.

This is why I think the argument “this books hates poor people” might not be accurate. The low worker whom Eddie Willers meets in the beginning is actually John Galt in disguise. This I think it’s the most important part to understand why Atlas Shrugged was so influential with small businessmen when published: John Galt is where the Übermensch and the Everyman meet. “Who is John Galt?” Anyone can be John Galt – the same way anyone can be Bella Swan, anyone can be Ritsuka Fujimaru (at least before the 5th singularity), anyone can be Kirito Kirigaya – the idealized self of the entrepreneur.

Thus, one is not born a “man”, but becomes one. Dagny and Hank’s entire character development is to become “men”, to learn to love themselves more than what they create, no matter how passionate they are. This contrasts with Eddie Willers, Dagny’s right hand man, probably the most tragic character of the tale.

Eddie loved the railway just as Dagny. He’s been her friend for so long, and even developed feelings for her. But the book constantly observes that Eddy doesn’t have the capacity to lead something as important as a railway. But he does it nevertheless, dedicating all his resources and passion for the railway. But, unlike Dagny, he doesn’t learn to look for greater things. Thus, he ends the novel stuck in a railway, defeated and probably left to die.

This is controversial, so much everyone still discusses his fate. In the movie adaptation, they deviate from the novel by having the heroes making a point to rescue him from his fate. In Jennifer Burns’s biography, she mentions a letter Ayn Rand received asking about Eddie and she replies that in a collectivist society, Eddie would’ve perished, while in a free one he’d be living okay. Nevertheless, this reveals a truth about that world: not everyone will become a “man”. Eddie would never become a “man”.

Since pity is against Galt’s doctrine, Eddie cannot be pitied. He has to live under the mercy of his Galtian overlords. He has only two options: either worship the feet that trample him, expecting his breadcrumbs fall from their banquet table, or to question his place in the world, thus denying that A is A, and be trampled harder. It really doesn’t matter his kindness, his dedication, he’s not a “man”, and thus has more in common with the looters and moochers than the heroes. Thus, if Eddie ever becomes an obstacle to the productive forces, even if unintentionally, he has to be trampled.

While one might think that I’m being unfair, it should be reminded that Ayn Rand openly advocated the people who were killing Natives during the American expansion to the West were doing nothing wrong. The Natives were actually privileged for being trampled by the productive forces, thus creating the great nation. The same argument can be made for the colonized people and even to the “essential workers” of this pandemic – since apparently people who take this book seriously are one of the most resistant forces to lockdowns and mask mandates, you can guess why.

And this is why Rand hated the environmental movement, because it puts an obstacle to the productive process. Nature can only react with deaf indifference to Galt’s speech. For Rand, this is unforgivable. Would it be surprising if oil tycoons were fans of Rand’s work?

In the end, the producers execute their revenge against the world that rejected them. Galt’s speech caused a lot of disturbance and the last chapters deal with its consequences, with more villains being evil for no reason and more showing how awesome their heroes are. Galt becomes more and more like Jesus, even with a gnostic Judas in Dagny helping him. In fact, in the funniest part of the book, where it comes THIS close from being self-aware, he says to his tormenters, when they asked to cooperate with him: “It took me three hours on the radio to tell me why”. It gave me angry laughter.

In the end of the day, what matters? This is a work of fiction, where caricatures of men and women fight each other. The entrepreneurial process works nothing like described in the book. It takes a naïve view of selfishness, upon saying that if everyone was selfish the world would be a better place, when in reality, if you expect selfishness, it’s what you’ll get.

It’s never explained how they invented their inventions, only that they did it and it’s awesome. The One-Man Industrial Revolution trope is one that I loathe a lot, because it misrepresents the innovation process. It requires so many factors, including government funding – scratch that, it REQUIRES government funding because technologies like touch-screen used to be so risky that no private company would take seriously and government can fund because it doesn’t go bankrupt the same way. Even if we take it as a metaphor, it doesn’t work when you stop to think.

Rand belongs to the same class of writers as Stephenie Meyer and Christian Weston Chandler. But she wanted to influence the world, she wanted it to be more than entertainement, much more. Thanks to her publishing network and appeal to real problems, she did it. This is why the problems of her work require critique. And I hope anyone reading this try to understand better what “relatability” means, this is what relatability can do. Stop trying to look for relatability everywhere, let it just come naturally and if it doesn’t come enjoy the story!

#politics #i'm not revising this #i hope i don't have to think about this book #for a minimal time #it shows correcting a wrong interpretation about a harmful idea #can explain how worse the actual idea is

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bouwrites · 4 years

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Maribat March 2020 Prompt: Sweetheart’s Dance

Week 4, Day 1. Prompt of “Sweetheart’s Dance” replacing the original “Rare Pair” prompt, on account of every one of this week’s contributions will be a rare pair (MariJon).

Maribat March 2020 Calendar.

Day 2: Soulmate.

Ao3.

1946 words. Story under read-more.

Jon has had better weeks. Though admittedly it’s not so much that his week is bad so much as that familiar insecurities come back with a vengeance.

In truth, it’s a good week! Jon gets back his grade on last week’s math test and practically cheers aloud when he sees that he aces it. He finally beats that high score at the local arcade. He gets absorbed into a really good book. He even spends a bunch of time with his non-superhero friends and isn’t interrupted by some tragedy somewhere! It’s great! Until Friday rolls around, and with it the announcement of senior prom.

All through the day it’s the only thing anyone can talk about. Who’s going with who, what everyone’s wearing, the works.

Now, Jon is pretty popular, to be fair, but all that means on this fateful Friday is that he has more people than he appreciates asking him who he’s going to ask to prom. And it’s not that he doesn’t like them bugging him about it, but it all really makes him feel like he doesn’t have much of a choice but to bring someone.

He does want to bring someone, but… a small part of him wonders if maybe he doesn’t just want to do the whole prom experience like a normal human kid. Maybe he’s so desperate to fit in that he can’t accept not having a date, or maybe going alone is part of the whole experience. After all, if he weren’t Super Boy, he never would have even met the only girl he can think of to ask.

Jon is already weird. People like him well enough, but he’s not the same as them. His powers will never stop setting him apart. No matter how well he hides, it never changes the fact that he is hiding. So, when he thinks of a date for prom, and there’s only one girl in his mind, he’s just not sure he can do it. He can’t take the questions of how they know each other or the stares of him bringing the most stunning girl no one around here has ever seen and dancing the night away like they don’t have people depending on them for their very lives.

He sighs wistfully, reaching up to the stars. Which is worse, being one of the losers who couldn’t manage to get a date, or bringing a date and drawing everyone’s eyes? Jon honestly isn’t sure. Neither are inherently bad, but for someone who yearns so deeply to fit in…

But then, maybe that’s just the struggle of every teenager, alien or no.

At least Jon is lucky enough that he’s not worrying about who to ask or if she’ll accept. He’ll have to ask about her workload first, just in case, since he really doesn’t want her to get it in her head that she has to make a prom dress and end up neglecting something else for that, but Jon knows for a fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would love to go with him. She hasn’t exactly been subtle, asking about American school dances and prom dress fashion.

Jon smiles to himself. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up. I can’t let her down, after all. Even still, with that thought, there’s a tiny weight of dread in his stomach. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is… beyond words. He’ll do anything for her, so there’s no real question as to whether he’ll ask her out or not, but… Jon is going to end up as the guy who brought the belle of the ball to prom. The one who showed up with some random foreign head-turner on his arm. As satisfying as it’ll be to see everyone gawk at Marinette’s splendor, Jon really doesn’t need that kind of attention.

At least it’s senior prom. There’s not much school left for everyone to bother him about it in. It’s just like him to leave with a bang, anyway, whether he wants to or not.

There comes a point, Jon thinks, that one has to ask themselves if what they’re doing is worth it. If whether what’s happening, or is about to happen, is something that they are willing and able to deal with.

As Jon valiantly refuses to duck his head at the stares of faceless students flooding past him, he thinks that this is very much not worth it.

He doesn’t even want the attention that’ll come with taking Marinette to prom! He doesn’t want all his classmates making eyes at them or asking about where she came from or how he knows her or anything like that! He doesn’t want to be the weirdo who takes someone from another whole country to their school prom! He just… can’t imagine going to prom with anyone but her. So, he’s here. At the steps of her school. Waiting like a loon for her to emerge.

It’s not too late to back out. A traitorous part of him says. You can still just go alone.

“Jon?!”

Aw, hell. His chest feels like he’s wrapped up in chains, pulled so taut that even he can’t break out of them. “Hey, there, Mari!” He grins, waving. Everyone around, who of course are watching, start whispering to each other. That’s exactly what Jon is afraid of. But… this is part of normal human high school, too, right?

Not… not in Paris, so he probably seems even weirder here since no one can immediately identify who he is or why he’s here but… still. It’s part of the whole experience.

“Jon!” Marinette’s voice shifts from shock to elation as she throws herself at him. He easily catches her in his arms, and having her there, pressed against him, that loosens those chains around his chest just a bit. It’s easier to ignore the stares when he can stare at her.

He spins her around, giggling. When he stops to let her find ground again, he can’t bring himself to let her go completely. “Did I surprise you?”

“You know you did, silly! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?!”

“It was a surprise!” Jon says. “Actually, I-”

“Hey, Marinette! Who’s this?”

Jon swallows down the groan in his throat at the rude reminder that he isn’t actually alone with her. Reluctantly, he allows Marinette to pull away from his hold, though he does have to suppress his elation at the fact that she doesn’t pull far. He still has his arm firmly around her shoulder. “Oh, right! Alya, this is Jon! I told you about him!”

The intruding girl’s eyes go wide. “Wait, that Jon?”

Marinette giggles. “Yes, that Jon.”

Alya smirks smugly at him, looking through him like his mom sometimes does. It sends a shiver down his spine. “Interesting. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things!” Marinette says. “Anyway! Jon, you should have said something! Why’re you here? Where are you staying? How long will you be here?”

Jon just fondly watches her until she rambles herself out before he answers. “I won’t be here long. I’m just stopping by.” With a glance at Alya, he adds, “On my way to some other things. But I wanted to surprise you! I actually have, um, something to ask you?”

Marinette blinks, turning to face him more fully. “Oh? What is it?”

Jon plans to ask alone. He came here with the purpose of surprising her and then asking in a whisper so that he doesn’t make a scene, but Alya is standing right there, now, and is part of the conversation and he just… Well… it’s part of the experience? “Will, uh…” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I know it’ll be complicated to figure out how, but, uh… will yo- will you go to prom with me?”

It’s a testament to either Jon’s nerves or his self-control that he doesn’t react when Alya shrieks and grabs Marinette right out of his arms, making off with her back to the gates of the school. Jon would like to think it’s the latter. Either way, though he can see them excitedly chattering, he’s too taken aback to think of eavesdropping.

Not that he would. He just could, and it doesn’t occur to him to. Of course. He’d never do something like eavesdrop on his maybe-date’s conversation with her friend who just interrupted his asking her out to prom. That would be… rude.

The girls are back before he thinks to look at the passersby, either, so he just spends however long they were whispering in a daze, just staring weirdly at them.

“She’d love to!” Alya eagerly says, nudging Marinette closer to him.

“I, uh…” Jon says. “What?”

Marinette giggles. “Please ignore her. I’d love to go to prom with you, Jon.” Suddenly, and making Jon only more concerned, she slaps her forehead. “Wait! Now I have to make a prom dress! I better get started on that right away! I have to do research to make sure it’s appropriate an- wait, I need the theme! I nee-”

Jon carefully grabs her flailing arms, steadying her before cupping her face in his hands to make sure she’s looking at him. “Marinette! Calm down. It’s not until the end of the year. You have plenty of time, and I’ll give you all the details I have as soon as I can, alright?” He slides his hands to her shoulders, and gently rubs her arms. “We’re okay? No frenzy?”

Marinette takes a deep breath. “We’re okay.” She says. “I’m good. Oh, but I’m so excited!” She jumps up, throwing her arms around Jon’s neck to hug him again. “This is going to be so cool!”

Jon just giggles, fighting off his blush. Now that he’s actually with her, he can’t help but agree.

The only word to describe how Jon feels on prom night is “breathless”. More accurately, whenever he catches sight of Marinette – and he does his darndest to ensure he never loses sight of her – he feels like she’s a plane soaring through the sky, and she’s just hit him square in the chest. All the air in his lungs is knocked out to linger alongside the gentle sparkle of the summer air in warm light.

It’s thick and hangs heavy on them, and that atmosphere only makes it harder to catch his breath, but when he sees Marinette, he’s not sure he’s even trying. Like the air, he just hangs there, ensorcelled by her.

From the moment they enter the room, Jon sees people turn to look at her. He doesn’t blame them. Aside from her carefully done hair and natural beauty, every movement of her dress shines like lightning bugs on the farm. It… reminds him of home, somehow. Jon wonders if she was thinking of him when she made it, but he’s not quite brave enough to ask.

From there, it’s hard to say what everyone else thinks. He has his friends find him, of course, and he introduces Marinette to them, but past that, he doesn’t see any stares. He doesn’t hear any whispers. He can’t think of what they’re thinking.

He just follows Marinette onto the dance floor, sweeps her off her feet, lets her sweep him off of his, tries desperately in vain to pull air back into his lungs when it so stubbornly refuses to do anything but bask in Marinette’s glory.

He hears nothing, sees nothing, but her. Her and sparkling lights like lightning bugs in Kansas. He can’t even summon up any coherent thought as they dance. He just… revels. He loses himself in her and in doing so, he has the time of his life.

#MaribatMarch2020 #Maribat March #Event #Maribat #Marijon #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Miraculous Ladybug #ML Fanfiction #ML x DC

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years

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Episode 12: Internal Affairs

Not going to lie. I know some people hate this episode but it’s one of my favourites.

SPOILERS AHEAD.

0:14 - Sure. Let’s start this episode off by shoving a knife through my heart. Look at Malcolm’s broken little face. :( He knows Gil didn’t deserve that outburst. Gil knows it too - but it still to hear. This episode aired months ago and I think my heart is still trying to heal.

0:20 - Look at Dani’s inner conflict here. She loves both of these doofuses and she can’t decide who to go and comfort.

0:30 - Dani just figured out that Malcolm is hallucinating. She knows what he looks like when he hallucinates from 1x5. Now she’s scared. So is Malcolm. Look at their eyes. Mmmmhmmm. This is good whump.

1:30 - This is Gil being a total dad to Malcolm. He’s already forgiven the idiot for being a jerk last night. Now he’s helping Malcolm put on his tie like Malcolm is 12 years old. You can see that Gil is still a little annoyed with Malcolm but I think it’s probably based out of concern. Gil’s scared because he knows Malcolm isn’t sleeping and he knows Malcolm’s mental health has been spiralling lately. He’s terrified because he knows that Malcolm (unintentionally...sort of) tried to kill himself last night. Gil’s scared that Malcolm is entering active suicidal territory as opposed to his usual passive suicidal territory. Maybe Malcolm’s behaviour is also reminding Gil of a time when Malcolm was suicidal as a teenager? Gil’s probably worried about the investigation too and how Malcolm’s mental state will affect it.

2:21 - Malcolm walks into that interview room and just starts exuding manic energy. Yikes. This boy looks tired, scared, manic, and determined. He needs a nap and a hug. This will not go well.

2:54 - “I’m not sure I have a safe space.” There’s a couple of these types of lines that Malcolm lets slip during this interview. Every one of them scares me because they’re completely true statements that Malcolm would never normally share out loud. Especially since he knows the room is wired and the team is listening. He doesn’t want them to think he’s weak. He doesn’t want Gil to make him stop working. It sheds a light on just how fragile his mental state is and that is just heartbreaking.

3:10 - So everyone knows that Malcolm uses humour as a coping mechanism for his trauma and pain. Good to know. Check out Malcolm’s face right after he says, “What else did they warn you about?”. He looks scared and a little confused. Almost as though he wasn’t entirely aware that he used humour as a coping mechanism and he’s afraid of what else the team might’ve picked up on regarding his mental state. He’s scared that if the team knows too much about what’s going on with him, he won’t be allowed to work anymore.

3:25 - Total side note here. Every time I watch this episode I have to do a double take because for a moment I think Dr. Coppenwrath is played by Marc Evan Jackson (Kevin in Brooklyn-99, Shawn in The Good Place). It’s not, but try telling that to my sleep deprived brain.

3:36 - Soooo was the room wired for everyone’s interview of just Malcolm’s? Because JT just verbally admitted that he’s friends with Malcolm. Does this mean the Malcolm has access to recorded evidence that JT is his friend? This is character development I can get behind. Look how far their relationship has come since the pilot. I’m so proud and so happy.

3:45 - Malcolm was in the hospital for “weeks”. I really want to know exactly how much time has passed since the end of 1x11. Also. How the hell did someone keep him in the hospital that long? The boy seems to like signing himself out of hospitals AMA. AND WHAT HAPPENED TO WATKINS?!?!? and why is no one giving me a scene of the team visiting Malcolm in the hospital?! This is the scene that my heart wants.

4:04 - It physically hurts me to watch Gil say “Watkins tortured you”. Kudos to Lou Diamond Phillips. Gil looks wrecked - almost like he’s trying not to cry. He probably blames himself for the extent of Malcolm’s injuries because he didn’t find Malcolm sooner. He’s probably remembering just how scared he was when he showed up at the Whitly house to find his kid bleeding out from a stab wound (in my headcanon Gil is the first responder on the scene and he finds all three Whitlys upstairs).

4:09 - hahaha that look. Gil is like “you can’t lie to me you little idiot” and Malcolm immediately back peddles. hahaha this is a true father/son moment. I love it.

4:25 - One of the reasons that I love this episode so much is because it makes me feel an array of emotions. I go from worrying about Malcolm’s mental health to laughing at some stupid comment one of the characters makes. I mean seriously : “If Bright was an actual state he’d be Florida.” hahahaha that is iconic.

4:42 - Yep. Malcolm has reached peak mania. He’s ranting about jello with a very manic expression on his face. Which is kind of adorable but also very concerning.

4:47 - OMG. This whole Elsa/Jessica/Dani/Malcolm scene is amazing. Jessica is so extra here and Malcolm is done with it. Really makes me wonder what Jess was like when he was in the hospital. AND look at Malcolm’s broken little face when Jessica mentions his “more unruly nightmares” he’s so embarrassed and ashamed. :( AND DANI. OMG. Every time the camera pans to her she just has this perfect expression on her face like “This whole family is whack. I feel like I’m intruding but also I kind of want to be here because I sort of care about this loser?”

6:44 - I love how the whole team is showing their own personal brand of concern for Malcolm when he shows up at the scene. Malcolm reacts so perfectly to it. He looks a little overwhelmed that they’re all concerned. Like he was only expecting Gil to care.

7:00 - I’ll say it again. Someone needs to show my dude Gil some love. This man needs a break. Look how utterly exhausted he looks when he says “100%”. Ugh. This man worries way too much about his kids.

7:14 - hahaha the look that Gil gives Edrisa here. hahaha he’s so shocked and annoyed that she knows the details of Bright’s injuries because she pulled his medical records. I love it.

7:31 - The way Gil sort of directs Malcolm to the crime scene with his arm concerns me. By the look on JT’s face - it concerns JT too. That arm is a signal of defeat. Gil is resigned to the fact that Malcolm just won’t take care of himself. Gil is too tired to send Malcolm home again especially since he knows that Malcolm won’t rest. So, Gil is giving in because at least this way he can keep an eye on Malcolm. BUT the fact that Gil gives into this is not a good sign for Gil’s mental health. THIS BOY NEEDS A NAP.

7:53 - Check out the way Malcolm’s eyes narrow when Coppenwrath insinuates that Malcolm’s “patients” help him understand himself because he too is a killer. This is a bad therapist move right here.

8:19 - I love that JT teases Malcolm when he’s concerned about him. It’s really sweet. SIDE NOTE - Malcolms shoes are nice. Dang.

8:46 - Check this out. Is Gil even listening to the profile? He’s staring at Malcolm with so much concern that I’m not even sure. While they are at the graveyard Gil does not look at Malcolm with anything but concern. Gil knows that there’s something more than Watkins going on with Malcolm right now.

9:30 - That is a haunting look. Malcolm looks numb. Dissociated.

10:14 - Malcolm almost looks like he’s having fun here? He’s lying through his teeth, living in a manic state but he seems to be enjoying the conversation. So that’s good, I guess?

10:32 - The look Malcolm just gave Coppenwrath is awesome. It’s a look that suggests that Malcolm is profiling the hell out of Coppenwrath right now and what he’s learning is really interesting to him.

10:38 - Is Coppenwrath allowed to know this much about the investigation? I mean, I thought he was evaluating Malcolm’s mental health - not the current case? He doesn’t really need that many details about the case.

10:57 - Awww. Gil going to bat for Malcolm is so sweet. <3 My heart is full.

12:02 - ....why does Gil know so much about the Vosler institute? Previous case? Advertisements? #justcurious

12:20 - Is Malcolm talking about himself here? He’s definitely guilty of a low self-worth and some schizotypal thinking. Has he been tempted by a cult?

13:54 - Is Dani checking Vosler out? I can’t tell if she’s amused that he’s such a bad liar or if she thinks he’s hot.

14:15 - Was Malcolm at the institute at the same time as the rest of the team? Wouldn’t they have seen him?

14:51 - Myers-Briggs is a personality test. How the hell would that identify how much trauma you have? ...but I’m not a doctor so what do I know?

15:30 - I feel like Gil is in an actual therapy session ranting about his dysfunctional, passively suicidal son. Gil looks almost comforted as he vents about how Malcolm can’t sleep. He still looks concerned for Malcolm but he looks less scared and more calm. I feel like this was a good experience for Gil. It’s allowing him to process just how bad Malcolm’s mental state is getting. Maybe we should get Gil a therapist.

15:37 - Things are getting too real again; so Malcolm is deflecting with humour.

15:43 - Again. If Coppenwrath was actually evaluating Malcolm’s mental state he wouldn’t care about Vosler. He wouldn’t keep asking Malcolm to tell him about the case and specifically about Vosler. Coppenwrath is so obviously hiding something. Ugh. It drives me crazy.

16:03 - That was honest. “I want it to go away.” Malcolm looks sincere, a little scared, and a little desperate. It breaks my heart.

16:53 - The fact that Malcolm let Vosler shock him is so upsetting. I know Malcolm is desperate to solve the case like usual. However, this time he’s disregarding his own health just a little too obviously for comfort.

17:15 - Look at how terrified Malcolm is as he gets shocked. Look at how much pain he’s in. Yet, he still finds it in him to glare at Vosler. I’m kind of proud of him?

17:41 - Malcolm is being sincere here. He really, truly doesn’t think he’s vulnerable to Vosler. Malcolm doesn’t seem to have self-awareness to his own low sense of self-worth. He’s so depressed that he doesn’t recognize how bad he’s getting. He’s just desperately trying to get answers and make trauma go away without addressing the side-effects of his trauma. My. Heart. Is. Shattering.

17:52 - This scene is another one of those moments when Malcolm unwittingly reveals a little too much about his mental state. He’s being honest with Coppenwrath when discussing his motivations to solve cases. It’s problematic because he accidentally admits that he values the lives of complete strangers over his own health and well-being. Someone please give Malcolm a hug.

18:43 - Another instance where Malcolm is acting like an amazing, kind, empathetic human. Look at how much compassion he has in his eyes for Andi. He so desperately wants to help Andi and it’s beautiful. Malcolm Bright (a man who is currently suffering in a self-destructive, manic, pain-ridden state) has transformed into a calm, sympathetic, comforting, level-headed guy. It’s amazing. He’s somehow able to shed all of his trauma and poor mental state and become 100% pure, untraumatized Malcolm Whitly. Gorgeous. A++.

21:35 - This. Ugh. Just. Just. It’s freaking perfect. “But I didn’t want to lose him.” Gil you are straight up breaking my heart. Look at how sincere Gil is right now. You can see just how much he adores Malcolm and how desperately Gil wants Malcolm to be happy, healthy, and safe. Ugh. I’m in love with this moment.

22:03 - I love how JT holds Malcolm back in this scene. As soon as Malcolm starts running out to Vosler both Dani and JT look concerned. JT grabs Malcolm but the way he holds Malcolm back is also sort of a hug. It’s not the way JT would hold back a stranger or a suspect. That’s the way you hold back a little brother. <3

22:10 - “She was taken by them”. Malcolm looks terrified here. He looks haunted, suspicious, and confused. It’s heartbreaking. Gil and JT look a little alarmed and concerned too.

22:12 - Gil is looking at Malcolm with pure dad!panic here. He’s watching Malcolm unravel and he looks scared, concerned, and a little angry. I’m mildly shocked that Gil didn’t call Jessica to come and take Malcolm home.

22:34 - “Okay. I wasn’t fine. I’m a mess.” This one hurts. I mean, I’m proud of Malcolm for being at least a little self-aware. This just sucks though. You can see the pain in Malcolm’s eyes when he admits it out loud. Followed by the stubborn look he gives Coppenwrath - the one that’s inviting him to ensue that Malcolm can’t do his job. It’s just heartbreaking to watch. All I can think about is the team’s faces as they listen to Malcolm’s outburst.

22:50 - Coppenwrath gives Malcolm a look here that says, “Damn, you are messed up.”

23:50 - The second someone reveals a personal trauma and/or personal problem Malcolm instantly becomes the most understanding, loving, compassionate human being on the planet. It’s beautiful.

24:28 - Malcolm looks so sad here. My heart is shattering.

24:38 - Wow. Malcolm’s voice is deep here. He sounds really upset. He’s angry and scared. I love it.

24:54 - Gil has soccer trophies in his office. In other scenes we’ve also been able to see that Gil has some signed baseballs in glass cases and some model cars in his office. Gil doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to keep his own sports trophies in his office. Maybe he plays casually in an NYPD league and those are the 16th precinct soccer trophies? BUT here is my true headcanon: Ainsley and/or Malcolm (but I’m feeling that this was more Ainsley’s thing) was really into soccer as a kid. Maybe Gil coached her team? Or he and Jackie took her to all of the games/practices because Jessica had to deal with Martin’s trials? Maybe she gave all of Gil her trophies at some point because she thinks that he deserves them too and he proudly displays them all. The baseballs and cars? Christmas/birthday gifts from Malcolm, Ainsley and/or Jackie over the years. I will die with this theory because it makes me happy.

25:50 - More hints from the writers that there’s something romantic brewing between Jessica and Gil.

26:40 - This whole scene with the deprogrammers is strange. It’s weird that Malcolm is standing next to the couch like some kind of butler. BUT DAMN it is funny when Jessica starts making some not-so-subtle hints about wanting Malcolm to accept his trust fund, settle down, and give her grandchildren. I especially like this because it suggests that Malcolm doesn’t have access to the family money. I assume he pays for things with his salary except for when Jessica buys him things that she insists that he needs (like clothes? food? fancy headboards for his bed?).

27:40 - I love this whole JT, Gil, and Malcolm are tag teaming the interrogation thing. I love that JT and Gil are visibly pissed (because this dude killed someone) and they’re flanking him. I find it interesting that Malcolm is standing so far away - watching, until it’s time to start rambling about his observations. It’s a really great dynamic (I miss Dani though).

28:31 - Look at Malcolm’s face when Coppenwrath mentions the “incident”. He looks sad and guilty. He clearly feels bad for losing it on Gil. Look at the true fear on Dani’s face - she’s terrified at Bright’s mental state. AND GIL. Trying to take some of the responsibility for the incident because he looks sad, and scared for Malcolm too. My heart is so full with all of this whump.

28:48 - Another instance where Malcolm has his own desk. I seriously want to know what the deal is with the desk. Is it his? Does he share it? I want to know. So. Bad.

29:01 - Malcolm’s eyes remind me of the Pepe Sylvia scene in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. He looks like a manic dude riding on the wave of a crazy conspiracy theory. It’s not good. Gil looks like he’s walking on egg shells because he doesn’t know what to say to help Malcolm. That’s almost worse.

30:38 - Edrisa’s little moments in this episode are cute and funny. BUT WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO HER ABOUT THE CASE IF SHE DOESN’T HAVE ALL THE DETAILS? Aren’t you supposed to be talking to her about Malcolm’s mental state?!? Ugh.

31:00 - This exchange between Coppenwrath and Malcolm is great. Malcolm looks sooo upset. The way he bites his lip and stares at the ground to avoid eye contact. The way Coppenwrath lowers himself to enter Malcolm’s line of sight. Malcolm looks on the verge of tears. He’s openly admitting his current biggest problem: what Watkins told him and the hallucinations. Not just to Coppenwrath but to Gil, Dani, and JT too. He just wants a dad who loves him and my heart is shattered. He looks so so wrecked. Somebody hug him. Please.

33:30 - Malcolm isn’t talking about how he’s going to miss his work friends because he thinks going to get fired. He’s talking from the fear that his friends will abandon him when they find out that he’s hallucinating. He’s afraid that they’ll abandon him because they think he’s crazy. He looks so truly sad here. Ugh.

34:33 - Watching Malcolm expose Coppenwrath is upsetting. Usually, Malcolm has a look of determination, desperation, and mild sympathy in his eyes when he talks to a killer. This time - Malcolm just looks vacant, then self-satisfied, then annoyed. It’s different than usual, which is unsettling.

35:50 - Now Coppenwrath looks scared.

36:39 - I’ve never been so proud as the moment that the team steps out from the shadows to support Bright. Right as Coppenwrath is trying to convince Malcolm that the team thinks he’s crazy. My heart is full. Kill me now - I’ll die happy.

36:54 - I love this angle here. It’s not JT or Dani that we can see pulling out their guns. It’s papa Gil. The man who will undoubtedly shoot Coppenwrath if anything happens to Malcolm.

37:00 - Another issue I have. Malcolm doesn’t look scared when there is a gun pointed at his head. He looks alarmed but not scared. More proof of his suicidality. I am not okay.

37:05 - I love the scene where we see JT, Dani, and Gil all pointing guns into the room - desperate to help Malcolm. Look at the panic in Gil’s eyes as he orders a hostage negotiator.

37:37 - Only Malcolm could possibly feel bad for the man with a gun pointing a gun at his head.

38:45 - I do not like how visibly upset Malcolm is in this scene. I mean my whump heart adores it but I also hate it because you know - whump is complicated.

39:23 - That hug was as much for Malcolm as it was for Andi.

39:40 - This is one of my favourite Gil/Malcolm scenes. It’s just wonderful. Gil looks so worried about Malcolm and Malcolm looks a combination of scared and resigned to what Gil is going to ask him. There is something about the way Gil asks “Are you okay?” that just feels like a knife in my heart. Then Malcolm answers truthfully, and I’m pretty sure my heart stopped altogether.

40:00 - Gil looks even sadder (if that’s possible) when Malcolm responds truthfully but he also looks resigned. He’s not surprised by Malcolm’s answer just of how easily he got the truth out of Malcolm.

40:24 - Gil has the absolute perfect response. “Okay.” Because Gil’s done too. Gil is almost as tired as Malcolm and for now Gil’s comforted by the fact that Malcolm is self-aware and being honest with him. For now - that’s enough.

40:44 - GIL YOU NEED A VACATION TOO.....omg. Can we get a Gil+Malcolm joint vacation. Please?!? That would be amazing. Someone write the fic!! Please!!

41:22 - Malcolm can see that Gil is upset. He knows he’s worrying Gil and he still feels guilty about the incident. Malcolm may be a little cracked right now but our boy is a mature adult. Watching Malcolm sincerely apologize to Gil feels like a warm hug. Gil’s little smile is everything. I want to cry happy tears.

42:30 - “I’m a civilian now Sunshine.”....does this imply that sometime between 1x6 (when Gil refers to Malcolm as a civilian on the police radio) and now Malcolm has become an official member of the NYPD?

I. Love. This. Episode. It’s not perfect but the insight to Malcolm is amazing. Thanks for hanging out my dudes.

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itsdaggerandsheath · 4 years

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A Discussion of Purity Culture (Part 1)

TW: Mild mentions of sexual abuse/rape

This is gonna be a long one so buckle up.

So, for those of you who don’t know (which is most of you), I am a Christian. Now, this doesn’t just mean that I grew up in a Christian family that brought me to church every week as a child; I am now an adult, and I still very much worship the Lord and believe in (most of) the Gospel. Yet, as you can tell by my blogs and my Instagram page, I also heavily believe in comprehensive sex education. Now, I’m sure some of you have met plenty of Christians who are sexually active and who believe in instilling good sex education as well, and I hope you have met people like this because the Christians that don’t believe in good sex education (among various other things) make the rest of us look like idiots. Which is why the rest of you are probably shocked that someone who self-identifies as a Christian woman wants to pursue a career in sex education. The two of them definitely seem to contradict.

While I don’t necessarily feel the need to defend myself to any of you as I am happy with being both a believer in Christ and in comprehensive sex education, I do realize that to those of you who are shocked at me revealing this about myself, an explanation would be…intriguing to you. So, I will explain how I maintain a certain level of homeostasis between my Christian beliefs and my beliefs on sexuality…in Part 2. For now, though, I simply want to tell you all the story of my experience with purity culture thus far so I can catch you all up to speed. Then, in Part 2, I’ll tell you all what I’m doing to try and overcome it.

I suppose that I should probably explain what exactly “purity culture” is for those of you who may not know. Purity culture stems from the group of people (primarily Christians in America, but many other religions share in this culture as well) that believe that sex should only be for a heterosexual married couple. They believe that if you have sex before marriage you are, well, “impure” in some way. You’re tarnished. Your worth as a human being goes down. No one will want to be with you if you’ve already been sexual with someone else. “No one wants to chew gum that’s already been chewed,” is a popular one that I’ve heard. They worship the concept of virginity, and believe that your virginity is a physical state of being that should only be taken away from you by your spouse, and your spouse is then the only person you should have sex with for the rest of your life.

Now, here’s the thing: if you legitimately want to wait until you’re married or in love to have sex, and it’s a choice that you are making for yourself that no one else is making for you, that’s fine! That’s totally valid. Abstinence is always an option, but it shouldn’t be forced upon anyone. I for one always knew that I wanted to wait until I was in love to have sex for the first time, which I did, but I knew from a very young age that I was not going to wait until marriage – and I didn’t.

Let me explain to you the kind of church environment I grew up in. For the most part, it really wasn’t that conservative. You didn’t have to dress up or be “proper” in any way; every church I’ve ever been to mostly consisted of people wearing T-shirts and jeans, maybe some of the women wearing a casual sundress or something like that, but everyone usually wore their typical, casual, everyday wear. And there was a lot of diversity too! Lots of different skin colors, single people, people in relationships, married people with children and married people with no children; people of all ages and careers and positions in life. Hell, I even was allowed to be on my current church’s worship team as a singer, and I had bright blue hair at the time. I have tattoos and piercings and am still a little bit emo, but my pastor said, “Come as you are!” which is something that I still to this day think is really beautiful and really important.

But it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. Some things just didn’t quite make sense. For example, my church has stated that, while people in the LGBTQ+ community are welcome inside our church at any time, they don’t “agree with or promote the lifestyle”. If you’ve had an abortion, you won’t be shunned or kicked out or anything like that – you’ll still be welcomed with open arms, but the church won’t “agree with the choice you made”. I could give several more examples, but I think you get the picture. Another thing that my church emphasizes is remaining abstinent until marriage, which is what I’ll be focusing on here. And man, my pastor is one of the kindest, most genuinely good-hearted people I’ve ever met in my entire life. But that almost makes the things that he and I disagree on suck that much more.

Let’s talk about my childhood first. In Part 1 of my “An Introduction to Sex” series, I mentioned that my mom openly answered any questions that I had about sex as a child, but marriage was always emphasized. There was a time where I thought it was illegal to live together before marriage, and the idea of having children outside of marriage seemed biologically impossible. Then, when one of my cousins was born out of wedlock, I remember being wildly confused as to how it possibly could have happened. A couple years later, my dad and my would-be-stepmom moved in together years before they ended up getting married; and then, my own mother became pregnant out of wedlock by a man who is no longer in our lives. I love my little brother more than I love life itself; this now eight-year-old boy is the most important and precious thing in my life, but boy did he make a hypocrite out of my mother for a little while.

As I got older, even after my brother had been born, my mother continued to urge me to wait until marriage to have sex, in hopes that I would avoid “making the same mistakes she did”. When I first started dating my current partner, I remember being in the car with my mom when she told me this. She also told me that the first time you have sex it hurts, and she told me that males get “blue balls” when they’re horny, and “once you start you can’t stop because it hurts them”. To this day I still wonder, was she just trying to manipulate me into staying abstinent, or did she really believe that? If she did really believe it, what did it say about the men she’d been with in the past? Was she ever forced to do something sexually that she wasn’t comfortable with because some loser guy had told her she’d given him blue balls? Did my own father ever do that to her?

Let’s not think about that right now.

As I said before, while I was never planning on waiting for marriage, I did want to wait for love. Which I did. I fell in love with my current partner hard and fast almost three years ago. Part of me wishes that I could go back; if I’d known that “losing your virginity” is not the huge, life-changing event that I’d been raised to believe it was, I wouldn’t have been nearly as nervous. I remember looking at myself in the mirror, balancing myself against the sink in my partner’s bathroom as he told his mom we were going out for ice cream, which is not what we were going out to do, if you catch my drift. I stood against the sink shaking with nervous excitement. It’s not that I wasn’t ready, I was – and if I wasn’t, I would have had no problem telling my partner that. But I thought that I would wake up the next morning different. I thought that this was going to change my life. I thought I was going to be a new person when this was all said and done. So, I stood against the sink and tried to memorize every line and freckle on my face, as if I wouldn’t be looking at the same face in the mirror the next morning.

I woke up the next morning to find that nothing had changed.

I remember wondering if we had had sex wrong, because I was convinced that I was supposed to be different in some way because of everything that I’d been told about “losing your virginity” all my life. I wasn’t sore. I really didn’t feel any different. I certainly didn’t look different. I didn’t have a “glow” to me. I thought my mom would be able to tell just by looking at me, or that my fellow churchgoers would know. I walked into the church early that morning for practice as I was still on the worship team at the time and was almost stunned that none of them had figured it out.

This was one of the first big realizations I had in realizing that most of what I’d been told about sex growing up was bullshit.

My partner and I really hadn’t been dating for that long, and we were still getting to know each other. My partner didn’t grow up going to church, but he saw that my faith was important to me and wanted to understand better, so he asked if he could come to a service just to see what it was like. I of course said yes, and we planned a Sunday for him to come with me and my family.

The first time he ever came to church with me, the sermon was about abstinence.

My pastor had never delivered a sermon on abstinence before. It of course just so happened to be when I brought my first serious relationship to church for the first time. I never wanted to crawl in a hole and die as much as I did that day.

Now, my pastor actually made a lot of good points, as the sermon wasn’t just on abstinence, but rather sex in general. He said a lot about how we need to end sexual abuse and how men in the church need to stop treating women like objects and how big of a problem human trafficking is about the world – I totally agree with all of that, as I’m sure you all do too. But the underlying message was abstinence. If everyone remained abstinent until marriage, all of those problems would disappear! Fair point (kind of) but very unrealistic. And what about marital rape? What about people who don’t want to get married?

My pastor has never claimed to be right all the time, nor has he ever claimed to have all the answers, which I appreciate about him. And while I don’t think he was entirely correct in delivering this sermon, I can’t say it didn’t have an impact on me. All I wanted was to get out of there and profusely apologize to my partner that I’d dragged into this. When we finally did get out, I remember feeling sick to my stomach with guilt – but not guilt over the fact that I’d become sexually active when it was supposedly “unholy” to do so, quite the contrary: I felt guilty for not feeling guilty about having sex. Does that make sense? I loved my new sex life! My mom always said that she felt ashamed that she’d had sex before marriage; I didn’t feel ashamed. But I felt like there was something wrong with me, that I should have felt guilty, but didn’t. I felt guilty for not feeling guilty, which was one of the most fucked up emotions you can have about something I know now I’m supposed to enjoy.

Did you know that only 3% of Americans wait until marriage to have sex? That is, assuming everyone in that 3% is telling the truth. This means that, statistically, out of the 200 people in the church that day, only 6 of them had waited until marriage to have sex. That’s only three couples.

My pastor never delivered a sermon on sex again. It was not received well by those in the congregation who had had children out of wedlock or thought that the intention of the sermon was to make people feel guilty – which my pastor claims it wasn’t and hey, maybe that really wasn’t his intention, but I’m not surprised that it made a lot of people feel guilty. Then a teenage couple in the congregation got pregnant a few months later, and I’m not judging them (and neither did anyone in my church as most of the people who attend are very nice), but it did sort of drive the nail that much further into the coffin.

My partner and I managed to brush off the embarrassment of the abstinence sermon…eventually. It did take him several months to every come to church with me again, and can you blame him? I’m surprised he ever came again at all. Anyway, as I continued to be sexually active, I decided that it would be a good idea to get on birth control to help with pregnancy prevention. My mother was so engulfed with purity culture though, I was afraid that she’d say no or even prevent me from seeing my partner (I was still a minor at the time) if she were to find out that I was having sex.

So, I decided to ask my atheist dad and stepmom for help.

They were lovely, and a great help! They talked to me, talked to my mom, and with their help, I was able to muster up the courage to ask my mom if I could get on birth control, which, to my great surprise, she said yes.

After getting the prescription, my mom sat down with me and had a long talk with me about how, even if she and I don’t necessarily agree on everything, she just wanted me to talk to her and be open and honest with her. She told me that if I’d asked her about birth control even without the help of my dad and stepmom, she’d have said yes. She revealed to me that she’d taken birth control when she was my age too (gee, that would’ve been nice to know) and said if I had any questions about it, I could always ask he

Wow! What a great reaction! I remember at the time thinking that this was such a cool thing for my mom to say to me. Surely, everything from then on out was fine and I was able to kind of get out of the purity culture world, right?

Nope.

See, I forgot to mention – even though my mom didn’t wait for marriage with my dad or her dumbass ex that became the father of my half-brother…she and my stepdad did wait until marriage. Which doesn’t make sense because neither of them were “virgins” because they’d already been married before. They claimed that they were simply “doing things in the right order” by not having sex until the wedding night and not moving in together until after the honeymoon. So now my mom tries her absolute hardest to bring up the fact that by doing so, she was being a good influence on her children and hopes that we would follow in her footsteps and wait for marriage.

So, the fact that I didn’t do this was seen as an act of rebellion. Despite my mom telling me she just wanted me to talk to her, she takes every opportunity to rub it in my face that I’m “not a virgin” anymore.

Examples? Well, a couple years ago, a few months after I’d first started taking a new birth control pill, I’d started bleeding long before I was supposed to get my period. I knew that it was probably my body just having a reaction from being on a new pill, but I went to the immediate care just in case. I’d called my mom because she was at work and couldn’t come with me – but by this time I was eighteen and could go by myself, I just figured I’d call her and tell her what was up because she said I could talk to her, remember? At first, she was very reassuring because she knew I was nervous, saying, “You’ll be okay, don’t worry. Just go to the front desk and tell them what’s going on – they have our insurance on file, there shouldn��t be a copay. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, thank you for calling to let me know.”

That was a decent thing of her to say, right? Then she said more.

“They might have to do a pelvic exam, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. It might be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt because you’re not a virgin.”

Thanks, Mom.

But the most recent fiasco was icing on the cake. It went a little something like this: quarantine has been very hard on me and my family. My little brother doesn’t understand his E-learning and throws temper tantrums when he’s upset, and sometimes my mom will throw a temper tantrum right back. I had my own school work to do as I’m a university student and my school sent us all home, so I had to move back in with my parents and do my classes online at the dining room table. But it’s a little hard to get work done when I can hear my mom and brother screaming at each other downstairs, and it’s even worse when my stepdad joins in. And to top it all off, an old friend of mine was unexpectedly killed in a car accident, and due to the Covid-19 guidelines, I couldn’t go to her funeral.

My partner has an apartment a state over near his university that is not the school’s property, so he didn’t have to move out of it, but he came back to our hometown to stay with his parents. He did this to be with his family during this weird and difficult time, but also to be near to me in the event of an emergency and also so we could have social distancing dates. However, as time went on, he came to realize that he left some things in that apartment that he needed or would have been useful to have (like food, cleaning supplies, toilet paper, etc.) and he pondered crossing the state boarder to go and get everything.

Unfortunately for him, no one in his family was willing to help him with this endeavor, so once it was safe and legal to cross state boarders in our area, I offered to go with him (we were very careful, we wore masks and washed our hands frequently, and once we were in the apartment, we didn’t’ leave).

Now, I’d been to this apartment in the past. Whenever my partner and I felt the need to get away from school, our families, whatever it may be, this tiny apartment in the city was a haven for us to get away from it all. However, my mom hates it when I go to the apartment with him and stay the night because, in her eyes, sleeping with someone (even if it doesn’t involve sex, just sleeping next to your unmarried partner in general) is immoral. So, I don’t stay the night with my partner very often just so I don’t have to hear my mom bitch about it. But this time, I really needed to get away from everything going on in my house and my life, and my partner and I knew that moving the things out of his apartment would take time, so it just made sense to stay the night anyway.

The thing is, I did tell my mom that he and I were going to stay in the apartment overnight. I believe my exact words were, “We’re gonna go stay in the apartment tonight”.

This was a Friday, so we went to the apartment, packed up what we wanted to pack up, then came home on Saturday. Rather than going home, I went with my boyfriend to his family home in our hometown and helped him unpack, then spent the rest of the day with him.

At ten o’clock Saturday night, I received the following text from my mom (apart from eliminating mine, my sister and my partner’s names for privacy reasons, this is verbatim what she said):

“Hi babe. Since I didn’t see you all day I’ll assume you’re safe with (partner’s name here). You said you guys were going to his apartment last night but nothing about spending the night. Thank you for just assuming that was ok, not asking permission, and giving me the lovely experience of answering questions this morning from both of your siblings. I love you more than anything (my name here)…I hope you’ve had a good day and I hope I get to see you tomorrow.”

Atrocious, right?

Now, I did tell my mom that I was going to be spending the night the previous night, so I figured that there must have just been some miscommunication, which I then apologized for:

“Mom, I did tell you that we were going to spend the night, I’m sorry if there was some kind of miscommunication but I did make sure to mention we were staying over.”

Now, any rational mom would think to herself, “Oh, man, maybe there was a miscommunication after all! Maybe I’m not right all the time and should take my child’s words into account!”

Nope. She said:

“Not sure when…considering we were in the front room with (my sister’s name here) when you said you guys were going to his apartment in Chicago, but ok. I’d still like you to think about what you’d like to say to your brother when he asks. Night baby.”

P A T H E T I C

Let’s analyze this a bit further, shall we?

Let’s say you have a child (who actually isn’t a child and is an adult, but whatever) who you thought would be returning home in the morning and didn’t. What’s the first thing you’d do if you were legitimately worried about their location and their wellbeing? I don’t know, maybe CALL THEM? But did my mom do this? No. Which means she didn’t actually care about where I was or what I was doing or why I hadn’t come home; she cared about our image and explaining by supposed bad behavior to my siblings – an eight year old boy and an autistic woman, neither of whom asked me anything about this event in the following days.

Next, I communicated the idea of a miscommunication. Maybe I misspoke! Maybe I made a mistake! You’d think that she’d reciprocate this. Maybe she misheard. Maybe she misunderstood. Maybe don’t throw your other kid with autism (my sister) into the mix. Maybe entertain the idea that you could have been wrong and that maybe I did tell you I was staying the night with my partner and you just blocked out what you didn’t want to hear.

Next, she acted like I did this scandalous and awful thing that my siblings would have all kinds of questions about when literally neither of them gave a single shit.

But the best part? This text conversation was the night before Mother’s Day, and she sent it to me right before she went to bed so that I wouldn’t be able to argue with her about it, and what kind of daughter would I be to start a fight with my mom on Mother’s Day? She strategized this conversation so that she could have the last word.

Bruh.

She made herself out to be such a victim. How dare I go spend the night with my boyfriend! What will the children say?! Nothing. Literally nothing. Because I did nothing wrong.

So, let’s get into my concluding thoughts.

I know, finally, right? This has definitely been my longest blog to date.

I love my family, I do. I love my church and the people in it. Do I agree with every message that’s being spread? No, absolutely not. But it is possible to see the good in people even if you don’t actually agree with everything that they say. And I love my mom, but the way that she behaves when it comes to me being sexually active is bullshit. I know it could be worse – there are places where having sex before marriage is punishable by death. Arranged child marriages are still a thing. So my mom getting on my nerves is certainly a first world problem, but it’s still not something that I should have to deal with, right?

Having realized that the culture that I’ve been raised in is bullshit, I’m trying to move forward with my life and keep my head held high, but how? Especially during a time where I’ve been forced to move home with my parents? How can I continue to maintain my relationship with the Lord while trying to escape this toxic purity culture? Luckily, I received some great advice from my last therapist on how to do just that, which I will be happy to tell you all about…in Part 2.

In the meantime, I love you all, and please stay safe.

- Dagger and Sheath

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nadziejastar · 4 years

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What do you think Axelnort would have been like if he had been targeted as a vessel instead?

In Jungian psychology, the “shadow”, “Id”, or “shadow aspect/archetype” may refer to (1) an unconscious aspect of the personality which the conscious ego does not identify in itself, or (2) the entirety of the unconscious, i.e., everything of which a person is not fully conscious. In short, the shadow is the unknown side.

To be perfectly honest, Axelnort probably wouldn’t have been a very interesting Seeker of Darkness, from a story perspective. He was too similar to Sora and Ventus. Lea was naturally cheerful and wore his heart on his sleeve. He seemed like he had really good self-esteem. He didn’t really have any crippling insecurities to exploit. Isa was more like Terra and Riku, which is why he was a better choice. Like the Moon, he had more unconscious sides to himself than Lea. I’m having trouble thinking of what Axelnort would even be like, other than just a sarcastic humorous version of Xehanort. I just don’t think Lea had enough of a Shadow Self to even get fully Norted.

The ‘shadow’ is the side of your personality that contains all the parts of yourself that you don’t want to admit to having. It is at first an unconscious side. It is only through effort to become self-aware that we recognize our shadow.

As an adult, Axel kept his feelings hidden from Roxas and Xion, but he was still very self-aware. His feelings were painful, but he didn’t try to actively suppress his feelings or avoid them. He cherished his memories of the past. He tried and tried to fix things between him and Saix. Saix was the one who put up the barriers, not Axel. Axel was very straightforward. He was more like Sora. Saix was more like Riku, in denial and trying to fool himself.

For the most part, Axel had a weak Shadow Self. He had a strong dark side, but not much of a Jungian shadow. Even when he tried to convince himself that Roxas and Xion were his REAL best friends, he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially himself. Axel was just not very good at lying to himself.

“Shadows are the lower parts of the psyche everyone has… Suppressed human thoughts given physical form. When people are unable to face their darker selves, they break loose, free from all control.”

In the Persona universe, a Shadow is the person’s suppressed thoughts given physical form. IMO, that’s what a Seeker of Darkness is. This is what Ansem Seeker of Darkness, Riku Replica and Saix were. Suppressed human thoughts given physical form. They are simply an aspect of the person, though. Not literally them. Shadow Aqua was not the real Aqua. Namine was just an aspect of Kairi.

To be a good Seeker of Darkness, you need a REALLY strong Shadow Self. You need an interesting weakness or insecurity in your heart to exploit. Sora had some shadow, but overall he wasn’t really a good choice to be a Seeker of Darkness. Kairi definitely didn’t have enough of a Shadow Self. Namine was still really pure. Same with Ventus, which is why Xehanort had to forcibly extract Vanitas. Roxas had darkness, but he still wouldn’t have made a great Seeker of Darkness IMO. Aqua only had a strong Shadow after being in the Realm of Darkness for so long. Before that, she was confident, strong-willed, and had good self-esteem.

Huh? I’ve just been talking about things I hate, but… don’t love and hate come from the same place? It’s not like that’ll be interesting to talk about. Well, I guess it could be. Things I love… What can I say I like—oh, that’s right, I don’t like anything. Everything sucks. So, if I say I hate something, I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea that I have any special feelings about it or anything like that.

Marluxia and Larxene were pretty good choices. Especially Larxene. She had a strong Shadow Self. She had an aspect of her personality she couldn’t accept, which was love. Among the main cast, Riku, Terra, and Isa were definitely the best choices because there was a part of themselves they couldn’t accept. Let’s compare them.

Terra

— Is that to say that there’s a possibility that within Xehanort’s Heartless, the darkness that sleeps in Riku’s heart, there might remain something of Terra…?

That’s also a riddle connected to the next story, so everyone please use your imagination.

I think Ansem Seeker of Darkness was essentially Terra’s Shadow Self.

Terra’s Shadow Self: I embrace darkness. Darkness is the heart’s true essence. I have given myself over to darkness. Darkness is strength. I do not fear the darkness.

Terra’s Suppressed Feelings: I’m afraid of the darkness inside me. Darkness is bad. It makes me unworthy of Eraqus’s love. Even Aqua doesn’t trust me anymore. I’m not worthy to be a master. No matter what I do, I can’t get rid of the darkness inside me. I can control the darkness. I don’t have to give into it. Right? Right!?

Riku

Riku’s Shadow Self: Riku’s a weak coward who’s afraid of the darkness. I’m nothing like that. I’m strong. I don’t need Sora to worm his way into my heart. I’m better than him. I’ll rescue Namine and finally prove it. I’m the real Riku.

Riku’s Suppressed Feelings: Sora is better than me. Even Kairi likes him more. Sora and Kairi are leaving me behind. They probably wish they could take the raft and leave without me—just the two of them. They don’t care about me as long as they have each other. I’m a third wheel.

Riku’s Suppressed Feelings: Now Sora is the Keyblade’s chosen one. That was supposed to be me! He really is superior to me. Maleficent was right. He’s got new friends and doesn’t care about me anymore. Maybe if I save Kairi, she’ll care about me, unlike Sora.

Riku’s Shadow Self: I’m superior to Sora. I’m so much better at stuff than him. I’ve been showing him up ever since we were kids. He can never beat me at anything.

Riku’s Suppressed Feelings: Sora’s better than me. I wish I could be more like him. Just following my heart and connecting with other people so easily.

Resolution: That’s not true. I am more like Sora than I think.

Quasimodo: Master Frollo–he made me live inside the bell tower, but the real walls were the ones I built around my heart. You helped me see that, Riku.

Riku: I was…speaking from…personal experience.

Phoebus: I’d say you still keep a lot locked inside.

I just need to let the walls of my heart down.

Terra: No more borders around, or below, or above, so long as you champion the ones you love.

I can connect with others, just like Sora can. After all, Terra chose me for a reason. I just need to champion the ones I love and I will have no more borders. I can confront my darkness and insecurities and be the person I want to be. The “other me” can have that broken Keyblade. I don’t need it anymore.

Riku had a strong connection to Terra’s Shadow Self and it helped him overcome his own. I think that was supposed to be what happened after Riku got swallowed by the Demon Tower. He’d confront his inner Shadow Self and have a boss fight where his Keyblade breaks. But he’d be strong enough to get a new one and leave the broken one behind. It felt like we got some kind of Cliffnotes version of everyone’s development in KH3…

Isa

According to Jung, the shadow, in being instinctive and irrational, is prone to psychological projection, in which a perceived personal inferiority is recognized as a perceived moral deficiency in someone else.

Saix’s personality is essentially Isa’s Shadow Self. Not really Isa, but an aspect of him, like Shadow Aqua. Saix gives voice to Isa’s feelings he doesn’t want to admit to having. And you can tell that Saix was HUGELY insecure a master of projection.

Isa’s Shadow Self: I am strong. Xion is weak and useless. A failure! She failed her mission and fails at life. She’s nothing like me at all. I am strong and a TRUE member of the organization. Nothing like that worthless puppet. Why is Axel so attached to her?

Isa’s Shadow Self: I am very mature and independent. It’s pathetic and childish to rely on someone like Axel for everything. Roxas needs Axel to hold his hand and walk him everywhere. I’m certainly nothing like that. Grow up, Roxas.

Isa’s Shadow Self: Lea is such a loser. He’s lame. And laughable. I try to forget him all the time.

Even as a kid, Isa had a strong Shadow Self. It wasn’t anything malicious or bad. He was just similar to Riku and Terra in that he had a tendency to suppress his feelings and probably had a hard time admitting them to himself. To what extent Isa was like that, I don’t know.

“He worries too much. Thinks he has to help Sora do everything…” Axel grimaced in irritation.

“But, Axel, aren’t you the one worrying about Riku and Sora?” Naminé giggled softly.

“Me, worry? You think I need to be worried about those two?” He stretched backward and rocked the chair back and forth, like a restless child.

I think it’s safe to say he was a lot more insecure than Lea. He was probably ashamed of his tendency to be clingy with Lea.

Genie sounded really worried about his friend–some guy named Al. But then he said that you have to respect your friend’s wishes. I guess you can’t always jump in and do everything for your friends– even if you want to..” Xion bit her ice cream, swinging her feet.

Axel leaned his head to one side. “Your friend’s wishes, huh…” It feels like I have heard that before, a long time ago, when I was human.

And it seemed like he was embarrassed that Lea would try to do everything for him. But he probably was nowhere near as bad as Saix. Saix is an exaggeration of Isa, like Riku Replica.

Isa’s Suppressed Feelings: Lea is very special to me. He’s the only one I can come out of my shell with. I can’t connect with other people as easily as him. I don’t have other friends besides him. He means everything to me. I need Lea. I don’t like how he picks up other stray puppies. He’s my best friend. I don’t want him to make other friends like Ventus. What if he starts liking them more than me? I want to be the most special person to him.

Isa’s Shadow Self: Axel’s a worthless traitor to the organization. I hate him. I don’t care about him at all. I’m glad he’s dead. He sacrificed himself for Roxas? How stupid. Nobodies can’t feel friendship. He was deluding himself if he thought he and Roxas were actually best friends like me and him were when we were human! Axel got what he deserved. He was foolish and weak. I’m certainly nothing like that.

Isa’s Suppressed Feelings: I need you, Lea. I’m so jealous that you have new friends. I want you to coddle me, not them. Please love me again. Please!

I don’t think Lea could have been a Seeker or Darkness like Isa could. I don’t even think Lea’s feelings for Isa were suppressed or unconscious. I think he was well aware that he loved Isa.

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forasecondtherewedwon · 5 years

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Prompts 10 and 36 just scream Spideychelle. They don't have to be written together, though that might tickle your fancy too

Thanks for the prompts, @soonersgirl86 and Anon! I did end up writing 10 and 36 together, so thank you for putting that idea in my head! Hope you enjoy the results!

The Game’s a Foot on BluePairing:Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle)Rating: TWord count: 1764

10.“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”

36. “I’d be fine having sex with the same person forthe rest of my life, if it wasn’t the same sex every single time.”

When you grew up as the ‘smart kid,’ you knew it. You wereeither fawned over or pushed too hard by your parents. Either admired orresented by your siblings. Your classmates simultaneously teased you and wantedyou in their group for projects. Maybe you were lonely, or maybe you enrolledin a good high school, full of ‘smart kids.’ Then you might take it a stepfurther and join Academic Decathlon, grouping yourself with the students thatthe rest of the overachievers thought of as the ‘smart kids.’ Once you’dreached this level, this upper echelon of tomorrow’s leaders, you couldn’t justplay a board game in your spare time. At least, that was what Flash was attemptingto convince them of.

MJ was currently trying to disappear into the thick cushionsat one end of the couch in Flash’s family’s living room. Every time herobnoxious teammate paced by her, she got a lungful of air that had the generalscent of Too Much Body Spray. She was full of regret; one surprise, come-from-behindvictory during a Decathlon scrimmage with another local school had made herfeel dangerously friendly towards the losers she captained and, in the insanityof the moment, she’d spoken two fateful words: “team bonding.”

Now the entire team was spending their Saturday nighttogether at the Thompsons’ while Flash’s parents had a ‘romantic weekend’(Flash’s words―uh, barf) in Las Vegas. Weird family. Somewhere between animpromptu video game championship and the time the tower of pizzas arrived (apparentlya purchase that qualified as an emergency, subsequently charged to Mr.Thompson’s credit card), MJ had identified sinking into the depths of the couchas the least obvious escape route. They just had to forget about her for awhile. If she was completely still, there would eventually be an opportunity tobook it to the door and taste the freedom of her old life. A life before teambonding.

But then Flash started in on his board games rant and beforehe’d reached the end of it (she hoped there actually was an end), he’d beguncounting the other people in the room in case teams needed to be formed. Whatpissed MJ off even more than being counted for participation reasons was thefact that Flash didn’t know how many people were in Decathlon. Not like theyhad biweekly practices or he’d been on the team for three years with very fewnew faces or anything. Moron.

“So we combine them,” he insisted. “Play multiple games atonce.”

“More challenging,” Cindy agreed, perking up next to MJ. “Ilike it.”

“Bonding is cancelled,” MJ protested wearily. “I’m thecaptain.”

Flash rounded on her, crossing his arms.

“Well, there should be another captain, for, like, moraleand chilling!” he said. “And that’s me.”

“That’s the last thing we need,” she grumbled.

“You’re wrong,” Flash argued, “and I’ll prove it.”

That was probably when she should’ve protested harderinstead of slouching off to the bathroom, but hey, she’d drunk two cans ofginger ale and her bladder was feeling it. Constant small sips meant shorterresponses and therefore, fewer chances of being engaged in conversation. Now,walking back into the living room, MJ saw that she was going to pay for her peebreak and pay dearly.

There was a creased Twister mat unfolded on the floor.

Logically, there wouldn’t be room for them all on theplastic sheet, but solving that problem was another thing they’d done while shewas gone. (She’d been two minutes! What the hell?!) These devious,academically-accomplished bastards―had already laid out and begun the alternategame, what looked like a combination of Clue and Life. Betty was sitting withher legs neatly folded, hashing out rules that seemed to require players tosolve the murder before they reached retirement. Oh, and the killer was one ofthe family members they would collect on the way.

MJ was going to lose her shit. If she was about to be heldagainst her will for… who knew how long, potentially hours… she would have atleast wanted to be in the group that wouldn’t be contorting themselves to reachthe correct coloured circle.

She could almost convince herself that was how she felt aslong as she didn’t make eye contact with Peter, staring at her from the otherside of the Twister mat. MJ swallowed and did what anyone with a massive secretcrush and a deficient sense of self-preservation would do: she peeled off hersocks, rolled up the cuffs of her boyfriend jeans, and stepped up to the edgeof the mat.

A dozen rounds in and she was lying to herself again. It wasobviously Flash’s body spray that made her want to knock him over, not the factthat he was positioned between her and Peter. (Yeah right.) Maybe he’d toppleon his own if she announced that she knew Peter was Spider-Man. Was that anappropriate conversation starter? Parties weren’t really her thing.

MJ eyed Peter as he placed his left hand on yellow.Seriously, was no one else paying attention to the ease with which that nerdshifted his limbs? You didn’t get casual strength and defined arm muscles likethat from constructing Lego Death Stars, that was for damn sure. It was thelatest in a long, long trail of breadcrumbs she’d been gathering for months. Sheclosed her eyes for a second and refocused on the game. Again, the urge to bumpFlash possessed her. But she wasn’t supposed to wish for him to be out―Flashwas on her team. Twister wasn’t meant to be a team sport, but Christ, thesetouchy-feely saps.

Ned, who had apparently been killed off in Clue/Life (yeah,she really hadn’t gotten a good grasp of the rules, or they’d evolved), was nowworking the Twister spinner and cheerfully reading out each round’saccompanying question. Because it had to be a combination of games. Because,again, Flash was a moron.

“Right foot blue, MJ,” he directed. (Fucking easy for him tosay, she thought as she stretched with a grunt.) “And your question…” Ned drewa card from the deck. “Would you rather have sex with the same person for therest of your life, or never get to have sex with anyone more than once?”

“Flash, where did you get these questions?” she wondered, movingher foot with a smack.

It wasn’t the first time she’d asked, but he was being cageyabout it. Honestly, most of them sounded like they’d come from some kind of sextherapy manual. Oh god, maybe it was a real game and his disgustingly-in-loveparents played it.

“Just answer,” Flash demanded. “I can’t…. stay…”

He slipped and fell on his ass. MJ blurted out a laugh. Finally,she was having fun at team bonding night.

Flash extricated himself from the mat, being a good enoughsport not to try to take MJ or Peter down as he made his exit, going to watchClue/Life. Peter and MJ were the only two left now. MJ rotated her footexperimentally on its circle, making her toes brush Peter’s. A blush raced uphis face like a burning match. Fascinating.

“MJ?” Ned asked, waiting.

“Uh, can you come back to me?”

He frowned.

“You’re supposed to―”

“They’re fake rules,” she reminded him, “and Peter doesn’tcare. I’ll answer my question after he moves.”

Peter shrugged. Ned sighed dramatically.

“Fine, but I think you should be setting a better example ascaptain.”

“Noted.” She rolled her eyes.

“’K, Peter…” He paused as the spinner whirled around. “Lefthand blue.”

MJ clenched her teeth together and squeezed her lips shut asshe analyzed the circles surrounding his current location. She would not smileshe would not smile she would not smile―Peter lunged towards her and, aftermaybe a second’s worth of hesitation, reached his arm over her extended leginstead of under it. She had her stomach to the ceiling, braced on hands and feetlike a crab, which had been extremely unsexy until Peter positioned himselflike he was about to climb on top of her. The front of his t-shirt draped overher thigh. MJ wasn’t sure he strictly had to be that close. She narrowed hereyes.

Dammit, he’d been playing a long game too.

After settling into his new posture by rocking a bit on hishands, he glanced up, flicking hair out of his eyes. They looked at each other.Yep, definitely dammit.

“Back to you,” Ned reminded her. “No more passing.”

“What was the question again?” she checked, trying to soundbored.

“She’s stalling,” Peter accused. Their eyes held for asecond. “MJ has the best memory in this room.”

Playful complaints? Flattery? And, oh, he wanted her toanswer the question? She would answer that question.

“I’d be fine having sex with the same person for the rest ofmy life,” MJ told Ned (while really, actually, telling Peter), “if it wasn’tthe same sex every single time.”

She was almost certain he’d started to lean over her bodymore before shifting back. And his mouth was open. Though she never stared athis mouth. (Another lie.)

“What if it was one person who behaved like two people?” Nedasked gleefully.

Peter’s head whipped around to shoot his friend a wide-eyed lookthat, to MJ, blatantly said shut up.Could they make it any more obvious that Peter had a secret identity? It wasbaffling. These were the stupidest smart kids she’d ever had the misfortune ofmaking friends with… and in one case, accidentally falling head over heels for.If they were going to be that dumb,she would indulge herself in a moment of pretend ignorance.

“Like roleplay or something?” she asked. Peter made a weirdsound in his throat. MJ decided to go in for the kill, catching his eye. “Yeah,maybe. I’m kind of into masks.”

“I forfeit,” Peter announced, springing to his feet.

Once he’d bounded away down the hall to the bathroom, MJ letherself collapse onto the mat.

“So I guess it’s pretty much impossible that you haven’tnoticed Peter likes you,” Ned summarized, idly flicking the spinner.

“I’ve noticed lots of things,” she replied, smiling as shestared at the high ceiling.

She chose not to specify that one of them wasPeter’s super alter ego. Or that another was the bulge in the front of hisjeans he hadn’t managed to completely block with his hands before running out.Not that MJ would ever look.

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