#i believe the thesis here is god is a woman

[zombie-eats-world]

Crocodad Theory: The not-so-Crack-pot Theory.

Making this post in order to replace my old Crocodad thesis since I think I can do better now. Plus I was still using the old theory name then and I dislike seeing it pinned on my tumblr now. You can find that older post HERE if you desire to!

Crocodad theory, chances are you have heard about this theory if you are even slightly invested in the One Piece fandom. But despite its infamy, and outside its stanch believers like myself, it's mostly considered a crack theory and used for a laugh.

Now let's be clear, Crocodad theory is not a crack theory. A crack or crack-pot theory is more of a headcanon built on vibes, it's a fun idea made up out of thin air and isn't really serious. If the Crocodad theory was a crack theory it would have evaporated into the nether by now. It's over a decade old, after all, and yet it persists to this day! That is because the Crocodad theory has real evidence from the canon, the One Piece offshoots, and maybe even Oda himself.

If you weren't aware of the Crocodad theory, sometimes lovingly called Dadodile, let me summarize it very succinctly. The theory is that Crocodile is a transgender man and gave birth to Luffy. Crocodile is Luffy's other father and his birthing parent. If you think that sounds ridiculous or even hilarious, let me walk you through it because I assure you- that is intentional.

Let us begin where the theory began... Impel Down.

The possibility for this theory was born in 2009 with these panels:

The simple fact that Ivankov exists and that he knows Crocodile, from "when he was just starting out" mind you, makes this not only possible but probable.

What other "secret" could Ivakov be speaking of here? It's definitely not his weakness to water, that would just be bad storytelling. It could be that Crocodile is the child of Rocks which is possible considering we now know Ivankov was at the Gods Valley incident. But if I could speak as a writer for a moment, it would really be a waste for an author to introduce a character that can change genders and then bring back one of the first big villains like Crocodile, AND THEN connect the two with the mention of weakness but not make that secret that Crocodile had once been a woman. Or even at least a part of the reason.

But if that reasoning falls through for you, here is some in-canon evidence for the idea that Crocodile is transgender:

First of all, the agents' code names are so gendered: Every single digit agent is Mr with a Mrs, or Ms partner.

Crocodile’s name. His moniker is different from almost every other powerful pirate the story introduces to us. He isn’t just Desert King Crocodile, he is Desert King Sir Crocodile. Again it is oddly pronoun-centered. As if he is trying to remind people that he’s a guy.

The introduction of Bon Clay. Bon Clay is our first canon queer character in One Piece. He makes mention of being a girl many times and feels like a joke character when we first meet him. But as we know in One Piece, a pirate crew is a reflection of the Captain. Crocodile isn’t prejudiced to queer people like Bon Clay alludes to others being a few times. Crocodile even allowed Bon Clay to be both the male and female of his team!

Next up was the reveal of Baby Crocodile and how it’s deliberating ambiguous what gender Crocodile is. In every other Warlord's childhood look reveal, their gender is obvious, so why was Crocodile left out of that?

Then of course we have Gold Roger's execution, and how almost everyone got a reaction panel. But not Crocodile. No, we only see the back of his head. Oda has shown that he loves to get every single character's reaction to major events, sometimes to a fault. So why is he trying so hard to hide Crocodile from us? It just isn’t Oda’s style to leave someone out unless there is some kind of secret he wants to build up too. Now be sure to keep this in mind for later.

Last but certainly not least is just how much of an absolute troll Oda is. This will not be the last time I bring this up, Oda is a HUGE troll. He loves to play to his favorite fan theories and he decides most everything on how funny it is. And wouldn't it be funny if the first antagonist in the Grandline was secretly the birth parent of Luffy?

I mean just look at this! Oda, you absolute troll.

Bottom line: Trans Crocodile is more likely than not.

But this is where a lot of people decide the rest of this theory is crack, they take Trans!Crocodile and leave Crocodad out for reasons I honestly can't understand. Despite that, Cracodad has just as much if not more evidence than the Transgender part of this theory.

Before I begin I would like everyone reading to keep a few things in mind. All throughout the Impel down arc and the journey to Marineford, and even the first few chapters into Marineford, Crocodile could not have given a shit about Luffy, Ace, or the war at all. He did not care who won the war or if everyone involved died. He came to the battlefield for the sole purpose of killing Whitebeard. PERIOD. He was never once shown reacting with any concern when Luffy began facing down anyone strong. Not even Magellan. Crocodile had been around Luffy, seeing him do inspiring things for a massive amount of chapters by the time we get to Marineford, and yet Crocodile literally didn't care if Luffy lived or died, he just wanted to fight Whitebeard.

With that clear let's move on to what happened after Luffy's father was revealed to the world in Marineford. This moment is where the most obvious evidence first came about:

When Sengoku announces Luffy's father to the world we get many reaction shots, but once again Crocodile is conveniently missing from the lineup. He even disappears for a whole chapter! The young man who took down his decade-long plan to take over Alabasta just got announced to be the most wanted man in the world son, and we get no reaction from Crocodile... its suspicious.

Crocodile stopped Ace’s execution: Now Crocodile explains this by saying he ‘didn’t want to let Sengoku have the pleasure of victory’ but seriously? What kind of petty ass BS reasoning is that?! Crocodile has dreams and ambitions, and yet he gives up trying to be the one to take down Whitebeard to randomly save someone he canonly mocks in Impel Down? Someone he doesn’t care about. Some people will tell you it’s because Luffy inspired him like Luffy does many others, but what exactly is Luffy doing in Marineford that he didn’t in Impel Down or even Alabasta? Nothing. That means Crocodile has an entire about-face for no believable reason while completely off-screen. Which we've already said isn't Oda's style.

Daz and Crocodile face Mihawk to help Luffy: When Daz blocks Mihawk’s strike, Luffy questions it. Daz answers: It’s an order from above! That means Crocodile ordered Daz to specifically protect Luffy. Again, why? What reason did he have to do that? If this was some latent Crocodile has been inspired™️ moment, why wouldn’t Oda show it? Oda loves to hype up those moments, and loves to detail it all to the smallest piece. But Crocodile just randomly decided to have his main man Daz look out for this person that he COULDN’T HAVE GIVEN A CRAP ABOUT JUST TEN EPISODES BEFORE does not fit within the story. Then, right after Daz blocks Mihawk, Crocodile appears out of the woodwork to block another attack.

When Mihawk questions why he’d protect Luffy, Crocodile’s only response is “I’m not in the best mood now, Mihawk, you better watch yourself.” It’s interesting that he has no reason, none, he just comments that he’s in a shit mood. Maybe because he just found out he once stabbed his own child in the gut and left him to die?!

Crocodile vs Akainu: The brother killing Lava Man™️ is probably the most dangerous person in the war. He has no mercy, no morals, no restraint. So the fact that as Luffy is lying comatose and weak, with Jimbe slumped over him, Akainu about to deliver the final blow, Crocodile coming out of nowhere once again is so telling.

The fact is: Crocodile went above and beyond to save Luffy. That final stand against Akainu is so powerful. Crocodile doesn’t just save Luffy, he rushes to Luffy's aid, slicing through Akainu and reassembles to stand protectively between them. He did not need to do this at all. Oda didn’t need to have him do this either!

There were plenty of other characters that could have essentially done the same exact thing, but Oda chose to have Crocodile, someone who shouldn’t have been on Luffy’s side at all, save his life in the final moment.

Lastly, without a word, Crocodile uses Sables to get Luffy to Law’s ship. He risked his life, faced down the one person who could kill him without a second thought, and sweeps Luffy away to safety without any stated reason at all. In fact, everything he says is deliberately vague. Crocodile doesn’t believe in loyalty, he dumps people if they are weak (see; Alabasta Crocodile vs Luffy desert fight) so his line of “you gotta protect the one you wanna protect! Don’t let them have their way!” Feels so out of character. Crocodile has to have a reason for this odd behavior. And no, it doesn’t end there! In the defense of Luffy, Crocodile has an awesome and powerful moment where he stands in unity with all the Whitebeard commanders. HIS ENEMIES. Crocodile stands in unity with the people, he himself stated he hated more than anything, for Luffy!

These are the moments that alerted people to what would soon be called the Crocomom theory, now called Crocodad. But just because it began there doesn't mean there wasn't foreshadowing from before Marineford.

Let's go over all of that now:

First to talk about is once again Crocodile's crew. Miss Father's Day debuted in episode 124 of the anime and chapter 205 of the manga. She has a green amphibian theme to her, which is interesting because she is a woman with the moniker Father's Day while also having a theme of an animal that is famous for being able to change its gender. Her debut episode even has her introduced along with the reveal that Luffy's using his blood to fight Crocodile.

The next point is something Oda has never explained. Crocodile has strange relationships with children. From hiring a sixteen-year-old Miss Goldenweek, leaving her out of the Mr. 3 assassination order, and her history of actually sinking Crocodile's ships before getting hired, all the way to how Crocodile lectured Luffy in their fight. It just had the cadence of a parent. Not even Luffy's parent, just a parent. He lectures like someone who has experience with children.

Next, Luffy does not look like Dragon. That is a direct quote from Luffy in the manga. But you know who he does look like?

That's right! Luffy looks a lot like Crocodile. If you need more convincing on this, there is a great post by Dashevacotton that puts together many of the best canon pictures of Luffy dressed up like Crocodile. That post is here!

Crocodile and Luffy are incredibly similar. Not just in looks, but in personality, and in their general life.

These two have so much in common. From having a way with animals, to the amount of unadulterated loyalty they've inspired in their crews, all the way to the cadence of their speech.

Crocodile and Luffy even have a similarly goofy reaction to seeing the underground passage to the Alabasta Poneglyph.

Episode 123, episode time 13:16 Crocodile spots the entrance and laughs, "Ha, now I see secret stairs." Also in episode 123, episode time 20:47 Luffy looks around and spots the secret stairs. "That hole... it looks gator-ish."

Even what we know of Crocodile's backstory is that he had a rapid rise to fame just like Luffy by being a rookie who came in and beat down non-canon characters like Douglas Bullet to the shock of the world.

Next, let's bring up an earlier point: Oda-sensei is a mega troll.

This isn't exactly new information, Oda once deflected to bringing up a dick fight instead of answering if Zoro or Sanji was stronger. He is a Troll. He loves wordplay, and he likes to hint hint nudge nudge us all day long. Just look at Oda having Sanji call himself a prince in Alabasta as a joke, only to realize years later that he actually was a prince.

It's because of Oda's tendency to play around and make knowing jokes we've gotten some pretty compelling evidence for the Crocodad theory.

First would be the wordplay!

-Crocodile is closely linked to a Bananawani-> Monkeys like Banana -> Monkey D. Dragon is a reptilian Monkey attracted to Banana reptile. Fight me - A 'crocodile smile' is a term most often used to mean a fake or ingenuine smile. Crocodile's scar has been liked to look like a 'crocodile smile', which would mean Crocodile is the only character that always has a smile on his face. What a fun bit of wordplay to foreshadow the birth parent of Joyboy!

Then there is this SBS alongside the One Piece School spin-off manga by Sohei Koj.

What a great way to get out of revealing Luffy's parentage without actually revealing it!

And of course, we have the One Piece Mafia Theatre episode of the anime.

Oda would certainly make this canon just because of his troll tendencies. This is a hilarious theory because the story supports it yet only a fringe group believes in it. It's hilarious and therefore it's probably true.

Lastly, the symbolism makes this theory truly great.

I've already mentioned how Crocodile's scar being a 'crocodile smile' and thus giving him a permanent smile on his face would make him the most meaningful candidate for Luffy's birth parent. Joyboy, our Sun God Nika, was born from a man with a permanent fake smile; who is also named after an animal with the world's biggest smile.

It's just such a perfect setup, it makes my writer's heart swell.

Since Oda has stated a mother in One Piece would stop the adventure, it would fit that the first major villain in the Grandline to try and stop Luffy's adventure ended up being the man who gave birth to Luffy.

If we are going to speak of symbolism, I'd be remiss not to mention what a crocodile spiritually symbolizes. I really don't think I need to explain why adaptability, creation, ambiguity, and duality mean so much to this theory.

This theory could die or be confirmed any day now that we've entered a God's Valley flashback. I will love it either way but truly, honestly, I believe this. I hope I convinced a few of you to. If you are interested in the succinct list of Crocodad evidence that post is Here!

So in conclusion...

Crocodad is canon!

#one piece fandom #one piece #sir crocodile #anime #dadodile #monkey d luffy #fan theory #until the oda plops luffys mom in front of me i will believe this theory #theories #there is literally no other explanation for marineford without dadodile #luffy literally looks like crocodile #not a crack theory #long reads #long post

[kivedreams]

I WANT YOU. part. I knj.

pair. idol namjoon x f. reader. f. is latina poc.

genre. falling in love, established relationship, romance, marriage

warnings. +18 racism and colorism discussed [this part does not contain smut, but the story is not made for a minor audience] this super delulu coded [pls tell me if i missed anything ]

synopsis; you make my life shine, and I think I also make yours shine or you didn't know how hard a relationship with a famous person would be

word count: 4.7k

A/N: i let my delusions run free with this one, i think ill be four parts.

next part.

Just a the moment you thought the party was dying down they arrived, is not like you hated the idea of having a party, but this week has been hard on you, nothing went exactly as you planned, having your thesis send back two times in a row, draw you down, that thesis was the last thing between you and your PhD, you knew it was going to be hard, but God it really was testing you, of course you were happy for Namjoon today was a big day for him, he was finally releasing the book that he always wanted to publish a full guide on The Joseon era art and its influence in today's korean artwork, Namjoon was really proud of korean artists, so being able to pay homage to them was a big thing for him and for you, because Namjoon happiness was part of your own. 

The tight red dress that you were wearing might have been a bit too much, but it was Namjoon’s gift. It might have been tighter because you had put on some weight due to the stress of these months. Going to the gym or doing any type of exercise was the last thing on your mind. You would have been lying if you did not admit that, it was one of the things that were making you feel insecure tonight, your relationship was already hard, nobody believed that Namjoon the first born child of a korean family, the leader of the most successful kpop group and now Namjoon the writer would settle for you, a latin woman of color, that did not appeal to a single one of the korean standards, you weren't insecure by Namjoon’s feelings, but you were insecure on how everyone else feelings and prejudices might influence his decisions, is not like you were desperate for the ring, you really didn't need it, nor were you prepared for marriage, but sometimes it feel like the only thing that could silenced all the voices in your head, all the social media talk, and of course everyone around you. 

“Y/N?” He called for you. You were still in the balcony of the apartment, seated in the light brown handmade chair you purchased for the space, with a glass of wine enjoying the Seoul night, a slight breeze, and of course the beauty of the balcony Namjoon and you have crafted together, a lot of plants were everywhere accompanied by artworks and souvenirs that you both had collected through the years, some on your travels together, some alone.

“Yes, darling” you responded looking at him, Namjoon was an extremely handsome man, you loved that haircut in him, and his choice of clothing today was a masterpiece, that beige suit with a purple turtle neck top was a perfect mix. He looked at you with confusion in his eyes, he quickly brushed that look a way and sais,

“My parents are here, they're asking for you” Are they? was the only thing in your mind

You walked to him with a smile taking his hand, to greet them and most of the guest that have arrived since you little rendezvous to the balcony, you were begging that nobody would notice your weight, your thighs were clearly giving a show in that dress, god I hope the concealer is strong enough to cover the sleep bags in my eyes, do I still have lipstick on?

“Y/N!” His father greeted you “You look so beautiful tonight! How is your thesis going? Are you close to the finish line?” His father always looked happy to see you, but was he?

“Mr. Kim! Thank you! And yes I'm close to the finish line, if everything goes as planned, I will be able to present it in a few weeks” You responded with a smile giving him a hug and doing the same with his mother. She always looked at you, at your hair with curiosity?  Of course 4B coils were not the norm in Korea, but Korean beauty standards weren't going to pressure you into hating your beautiful hair.

After polite talks and greetings for a whole night with people that were close to both of you, in professional and personal level, the night was over, Namjoon and you finished saying good bye to the last guest and his agent, the night was a success, as you knew it would be, Namjoon never fails to amaze you, you saw him the whole night , moving around and enchanting everyone, you get it, you too were enchanted by him.

Finally being able to get rid of the uncomfortable shoes and the red lace around your waist that made the dress even tighter and letting Namjoon in the living room talking with the service that was in charge of getting everything clean up and tidy again, walking straight to your room, dreaming of the comfort of your bed, you forgot all the things that were placed on top of it, because you didn't trust any of the frail art pieces to be in the open while everybody drank and mingle, with not other option, you moved to the balcony, walking down to the kitchen first taking a glass of wine with you and politely smiling to the service, Namjoon was out of your sight.

Sitting on the cold floor of the balcony letting your hair free from the detailed bun that it was made into, enjoying the silence and peace of the night. You felt empty, maybe too much stress plus the insecurities in your relationship were passing you the bills, in a few months you would be 30, and if you get your PhD granted, working as a full time curator in the national art museum of Seoul, just what you wanted, but was Namjoon on your side for it? you didn't know.

“Babe” He called, putting a blanket on top of you, you did not realize how cold you were until he did so “ Tired? they are almost finishing, our room is ready, lets go” 

You looked at him from the floor with your face resting on the wooden bench, giving him a little nod, but your body was not responding to the idea of standing up, maybe you were too tired, maybe it was that third glass of wine, reminding you that alcohol was not your forte.

“Too tired? “ He said lifting you up, you hugged him, getting flooded by his strong musky scent.

Before you could realize it you were already on the bedroom, headlight turn off, the only light in the room coming from the bed stands, Namjoon sat you on the edge of the bed looking at you with curious eyes, his hands on you waist, you could feel his breathing, warmth, “Can we talk in the morning?” you ask, with almost no energy to spare.

“Is everything ok?” he asked back, now with a worried look on his face.

“Yes, I am exhausted, let's talk tomorrow please” you said standing up making your way to the bathroom, trying to unzip the dress off and failing. 

“Ok” He said, hugging you from the back, there it was again his scent, it made you feel so calm, at peace.

He started to remove the dress from you, leaving you there exposed to his eyes, and to yours. You could see the reflection in the mirror, how he was hugging you even harder, tighter, Namjoon loved you, you knew that.  He started to remove his own clothes, making you move the other side of the sink to remove your makeup.

You heard the water running in the tub, namjoon got close to you naked, “Want to take a bath?” 

“No, I’ll take a quick shower and go to bed”

“Ok darling “ He said, kissing your neck. Making you move.

He flicked due to the inspected action “I'm not in the mood to have sex” You said, before he could say anything.

“Is ok, I just want to feel you…” he said with a hurt look, you took a step back using the shower as an excuse. Namjoon was even more confused, because you never rejected physical touch, so it felt as if you were rejecting him, but you weren’t, you just wanted to reject the feeling that you had for him, because it felt like you had everything to lose.

It was around 2AM when you two were in bed together, Namjoon pulled you close, and you couldn't say no, you couldn't do that to him again. Nighttime passed through your eyes seeing the sun rise that sunday morning, you weren't able to sleep just thinking about all the possibilities, weighing your options, you could finish your phd and go back to your country, even though it was useless, jobs for a art history doctor, were not easy to find everywhere, you didn't think that you would be able to continue to live in korea after breaking up with him… the thought made you sob, you couldn't stay in bed anymore, so you quietly stood up, walking to your safe place the balcony.

The living room was like it always use to be everything clean up and in its place, you saw the blanket that namjoon used on you last night perfectly folded, taking it to the balcony with you, a cup of tea to clean your mind and a lonely space for you to cry in peace, and there you were cuddling up in the chair, with the cold morning breeze it was 6AM, but you were crying, because there were no other options for you, you knew, Namjoon would not settle for you, you'll never live up to the standard needed to be his wife, so it was better to finish it now, than wait for later.

Only your cries and the mobile hanging in the side could be heard, so that was it, like that, it was going to be over.

“Y/N?!” He called, and you used all your strength to hide your tears, but of course he noticed.

“Are you ok honey? Talk to me” You could hear the worry in his voice, you really tried to pull back the tears, but seeing him did not help

And there, both of you were, him hugging you and giving you solace, until your crying stopped, and all you could feel was his heartbeat, his hand going up and down comforting you. There he was for you, and you were about to end a 4 year old relationship.

You meet namjoon 7 months into arriving in seoul, while you were doing your master your favorite professor suggested you to pursue a doctorate in Korea, she knew people, she could get you a internship in Seoul’s national museum while you studied, and of course she knew people in HanYang university, you knew she was an important woman in the area, but you sub estimated her contacts and power, and there you were a year later accepted into Hanyang university with a full scholarship and paid internship, you didn't know how, but the rumor that you were there due to nepotism spread all over your department reaching your workplace, while it was true that your professor helped you, the scholarship was won fairly due to your grades and the ingenuity of your master's thesis. It made your work and student life harder, as if the racism and colorism wasn't enough, but of course you weren't there to make friends, you were there to finish your studies and make a name for yourself. 

That just made everyone hated you more, your coworkers thought it would be great for you, a newly hire to conduct a private view of a new exposition for a VIP, at that point you did not know if it was the racism, the nepotism rumor or because they did not want to make it themselves; but at the end that's how you met namjoon, of course you knew who he was, you might not been his fan, but you knew what his impact was, the quality of his music, and the power he had. His whole presence made you nervous, but you weren't going to risk your job nor lose the professionalism. He ended up being there because the director invited him to look at the new collection that you direct boss had picked, but he wanted it to be private, he wanted to enjoy it, and that's how the both of you ended up there, sitting on the floor of the museum admiring the work behind the main art piece.

“Now I understand, why he wanted me to look at it in person” he said with a smile “it is magnific, it was worthy escaping from the studio for this”

“I know, art can free you, it's like the whole world shut down for a minute and you can breathe” you said, genuinely happy, because he was really calm and easy to talk to, so you weren't nervous anymore, it was a success.

“Indeed” he said looking at you, you felt the warm in your face because of the way he was looking at you, he stood up and helped you too “It has been a pleasure Y/N, meeting you and the collection, I think now I am supposed to take a photo” You got frozen en place, his voice was deep and raspy, it got you flustered, you came back to your senses

“Y-yes, you do, gimme a minute to look for the camera” You said moving quickly.

You took various photos of him, he looked great in every single one, Namjoon was a handsome man, and on top of that he was so humble and easy, maybe you expectatives where in the low as soon as you heard the world VIP or maybe Namjoon was just different, he made your heart move faster.

While you were tidying up he approached you with a question,

“Y/N would you like to take a photo with me?” it surprised you , but you did not have the ability to say no.

He pulled you close, you didn't know what to do, and he noticed, so he just told you to smile, you did so, but only god knows how you ended up looking in that picture. After that he said his farewell, and you could see his bodyguards getting closer than they were before.

It was such an experience it shaked your life for the next days, you could only think of him and his strong scents, it was so good, like a forest, as the freshness of the summer, Namjoon really did a number on you, you googled half of his life in those days, and started to listing to his music, it was really good, now you understood even more his fame. At the moment that you thought that you were forgetting the flustered feeling that he led on you, he posted it, he posted the photo that he took with you, you had a start sticker on your face, and his caption left you thinking about him even more,

art can free you, the whole world shut down for a minute and you can breathe

Did he post that because of you? Did he?

====================================

It was a normal thursday, you were in the subway on your way to work, thinking about the essay you had due this sunday, it was almost done, but you felt it was missing something, moonchild playing on your airpods. The day promised to be rainy, it always rained in seoul, but not in the sad depressing way it rained in London, Seoul’s rain was calm and nostalgic, sometimes it was full of rage. 

You didn't have much to do at work that day, the inauguration of the exposition was a success, you replied to the emails you had, sent some codes and updated the maintenance date of some artworks.

“Miss. Y/N, Mr. Park is asking to see you, if you could go to his office please” the voice caught you by surprise, it came from Mr. Shin, executive assistant of the museum director, the surprise was more in him coming directly to see you instead of sending you an email. Have something happened, did you mess up something…

You colleagues gave you strange and curious looks, it wasn't a normal situation, and their looks worked as a further confirmation. 

Walking through the administration hallways behind Mr. Shin, got you nervous, what could've gone wrong why are they calling you, are you fired? no, R.R.H.H would’ve called for that. Mr. Shin led you to the office door and retired, you could not bring yourself to knock at the door scared, but there was no other way of escaping it. You knocked on the door twice, until you heard a deep voice say, “Come in”

You opened the door using all your strength and calm “Good morning Mr. Park, how may I help-

You stopped on your word when you saw Namjoon sitting in the middle of the room, Mr. Park's office was big, two mauve sofas facing each other in front of the big brown desk, and Namjoon was seated in one of them looking at you with a smile.

“Hello ‘Y/N” his deep voice filling the room, “Please sit down’” he said signaling the sofa in front of him

You were frozen in your step, why was Namjoon there? you quickly got back to your senses, and greeted him sitting in front of him, you didn't know if the nervousness was visible, your hands were sweaty, while they rested on your knees.

“I know you got up here thinking you were going to see YoungJo, I am sorry for that, but I did not wanted to make a fuss, hope you understand” you nodded in comprehension, of course it was going to be worse if Kim Nam Joon came calling for you, it was already weird Mr. Park doing so.

“I'm going to be direct, would you like to work for me?” The shock was painted in your face “I want someone to curate some art pieces for my parents house, and for my house too, since our conversation last week, I feel that you would be perfect for it, we share the same art vision”

You couldn't say a word, he was waiting for your response, but since you stood there in silence he continue “Money is not the problem, nor is the time, please name your price and tell me when we can start working together”

“I-I, are you sure? wouldn't you like someone more professional for this? someone with more experience in the area” you muttered, still lacking the words.

“No” he said solemnly “I am not looking for experience or somebody with a name in this, I want you and your fresh views, I read your master thesis, and I know your working in your doctorate, as I said your vision is what I want, it amuse me”

“Can I think about it?” You said, but what was there to think.

“Of course” he said “Here look, this is my personal number, you can call me or add me to Kakao, and my agent number in case I don't respond, but it is unlikely” he handed you both of the cards, looking at your shocked face with a smile. “If someone asks, just tell them that YoungJo confused you with someone else, ok?”

You nodded, still feeling out of place, looking at his almond shaped eyes, he said goodbye and left, letting you there. You slowly stood up, and walked to your department, art acquisitions, as soon as you arrived your coworkers started whispering. You sat down keeping face, when you were about to start working, Anja, who seated next to you asked,

“Hey Y/N what was that about?” with curiosity flooding her face, you smile and said loud enough,

“It was nothing, looks like they were calling someone else and somehow they got to me” you said shrugging your shoulders, resting importance to it, with you saying that the whispering and the looks finished.

The rest of the day was normal, but you still could feel the nervousness in your gut, he read your thesis, and wanted you to help him curate art for his family house and his home, it feel surreal, to good to be truth, but if it was, the opportunity was amazing, Namjoon would become your first private client, the scholarship money was decent, and you pay wasn’t that bad, but you knew that whatever Namjoon would pay you would be enough to pay rent until you found a space in the campus dorms. You weren't sure yet, there wasn't a big reason to say no, but you felt insecure. What if your work does not live up to his expectations?

You arrived home putting those thoughts to rest, working on your assignments and studying your lectures, before you could realize it, it was already past midnight and you knew what you were going to say.

Hello Mr. Kim,

I would love to work with you, please let’s discuss terms and conditions.

Have a great day, “Y/N”

12:51 am

Looking at your phone screen maybe it was too short? but it didn't need any more it was concise, you hit sent, without realizing, that you did not programmed the text message to be sent at 9 in the morning, panicking looking at the screen, until those 3 hell looking dots started blinking,

Amazing, and yes I’ll have a great day ;)

knj

12:52 am

===========================================

And there you were the next day, in front of Namjoon’s workplace building, he asked you to come the next day to discuss the job requirements and pay, you set a 3PM meeting with him, going to the big doors of HYBE ent. you were nervous hand sweating approaching the reception, you'd feel the looks, but is not like you cared anymore, but maybe you should had hided your hair today, everyone at work was already use to it, but this was a new environment, the comfort of your usual places made you forget where you were.

“Hello good evening, I have a meeting” You say approaching one of the well groomed ladies in front of you, she looked you up and down, and say,

“Excuse you?” Your korean might not be the best, but it wasn't bad, now being here for almost 8 months it had clearly improved, you repeated yourself, and then she ‘understood’

“Ok, May I know the name of the person and their department please?” she said with a smirk in her face,

“I don't know his department, the name is Kim Nam Joon” she and the two ladies at her side looked at you like you were a rare species. 

“Are you sure of that?” She said with a shuckle, she wanted to laugh, it was clearly on her face.

“Yes I am sure, I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't” you said annoyed.

“Miss please, don't shame yourself in here, please go, or I'll be obligated to call security” the disgusted expression on her face saying everything you needed to know.

“Could you at least call him to verify?” keeping the last strand of politeness you asked.

“No. Please leave or I'll call security” she said standing up signaling the big crystal doors.

You were mad, not knowing what to do walking down to the doors, hearing his laughs and the looks of the people around, until of course your brain reacted, you were a smart girl after all,

Hello Mr. Kim I am already here

2:58 pm 

Ok, amazing please come to my studio they'll tell you the floor ;p

2:59 am

I am not being allowed, I went to the front desk and they asked me to go, should I?

3:00 pm

What? why? please dont leave, youre in the lobby right ill come to you

3:00 pm

You read the last text, still being mad but now you knew that namjoon actually wanted you there, you stood close to the door still with some of the looks in you, but they couldn't send you out, you haven't done anything and you could easily say you were going to the store. 5 minutes passed and you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket Namjoon was calling you.

“Hi Y/N? on what side are you?” his voice sounded agitated, as if he had run.

“Hello, yes, I’m close to the doors, I have a white cardigan and a brown plaid scarf” 

“I think I see you” and when he said that, you heard the commotion, there he was, his hair looking frizzy, like he had been passing his fingers through it. He had a pale green sweatshirt, a dark brown jacket and light brown trousers.

You heard the call finish, and he was getting closer to you, the people in the lobby were looking at him, and you were too but not with the same eyes. Namjoon looked so hot, he smiled at you, he was happy to see you and that calmed your heart.

“Hello Y/N, I thought you would leave” he said, extending his hand to you, you shaked hands with him.

“I almost did” you said, trying to conceal the discomfort in your voice.

“What happened, why couldn't you come in? it was just a call away” he said smiling to the people around you, you started walking with him and two bodyguards started walking at the sides.

“I explained that to the lady but she did not care to confirm that”

“Who?” the demanding tone clearly in his voice he stopped to look at you, his eyes waiting for an answer

“T-he lady with the ponytail” you mutter, namjoon’s eyes intimidate you.

“Is ok” he said, dragging you to the front desk, “Can I have a visitors pass for MY guest” he was clearly annoyed, and you were too, the face in the lady was priceless, she was between shock and disbelief, until she actually needed to talk,

“C-can I have some form of ID? " she asked, you opened your purse to take your passport, going directly to your work visa.

=========================================

Namjoon drove you to his studio, scanning his face on the door. The hallway to it was beautifully decorated with small and big art pieces, Namjoon really had a great taste, his studio was small but cozy, you could feel how he crafted every space himself, it screamed his whole personality. 

“Please sit down” he said and you did so “Before we begin I am obligated to made you sign a NDA, is just protocol” he said sitting in from of you handing you a folder

“Yes, I understand” you said, giving a quick read to the NDA, you signed because it was ok and handed it to him.

“Ok, perfect. Do you want something to drink? I’m making myself a coffee” he stood up waiting for your answer.

“Water would be fine”

“I don't like to beat around the bush Y/N, I want you to pick beautiful and meaningful pieces for me, I would do it myself” he brought a glass of water for you, while holding a cup of smoking coffee “But I am pretty busy right now and I like you, and your style. Your thesis in Seurat, was an enjoyable read, and I feel that your fresh vision would be perfect for what I want” He sat down in front of you taking a sip, you did the same, Namjoon made you nervous, his aura was intoxicating.

“I get it, still, I don't have a full experience curating, I might have the theory but I stick lack the practice” you said being honest

“I'm giving the practice to you, what about 15% for every piece you pick for me? " he said with a smile that made his dimples show up.

You smiled at him “What about 20%?” You smirked.

“25%, do we have a deal?” he put down his cup to look you directly in the eyes.

“W-we do.” you smiled at him nervously due to his gaze.

“You could've said 50% and I would have said yes. I just want you.” He said standing up, giving you his hand, his words made you lose your breath.

=======================

from delululand with love, kive <3

#bts fanfic #bts x you #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon #bts x reader #yoongi #bts fluff #smut bts #kiv3 #kim namjoon #kim namjoon icons #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon fic #fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfiction #bts #bts smut #bts army #bts icons

[sarahpaulsonsoftie]

(Not such a) Bad Idea

Larissa Weems X reader-

Songfic based on bad idea by girl in red, loosely. Reader is a final year university student and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the free Wi-Fi). Larissa is the principal of Nevermore academy and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the peace and quiet).

Or

Two dumb gays in love and Marilyn meddles.

Huge thank you to @h-doodles who majorly helped me with the plotline with this one. Honestly cannot thank you enough, I hope it meets your expectations :) <3

-

It was a typical Thursday Morning for you, early enough for the Weathervane to be open, which meant you could claim a booth and work on your thesis statement. Typically, the weathervane was a quite café but for some reason, today it was packed and there was no seating available elsewhere.

Just as you had frequented the café, there was also an extremely tall lady, with ocean blue eyes and always wearing pristine clothing. You would often catch her eyes and she would smile at you, which would make you feel like you were going to faint. God, to see that smile in the morning would give you enough motivation to get through the day, and you would yearn for it long after she was gone.

Almost as if your thoughts had summoned her, in she stepped, noticing how busy it was and she approached the counter, giving her order. Her order is placed in front of her, and you notice her eyes wander around the café and eventually her eyes lock with yours.

You do your best to hide the fact you were staring by turning your focus onto your laptop, a flush growing on your cheeks.

“Hello.” You hear a British accent say and you look up, almost fainting because the woman who you had just been staring at has approached you. Oh my god, she’s British. “Is there any chance I could share a booth with you? Its quite busy in here today.”

“Oh- Yeah, of course, I don’t mind!” You say, probably too enthaustically, but she doesn’t comment and instead you decide to offer up your name “I’m Y/N.” You smile.

The woman smiles wider at you, “Larissa.” She returns, and you feel your face flush. Oh my god, even her name is ethereal. You grin as you turn back and begin to type away.

Moment’s pass, before your eyes raise to see Larissa watching you curiously, and you feel yourself blushing. Larissa takes a sip of her drink before nodding her head to your laptop.

“What are you working on?” Larissa enquires, as her eyes crinkle with her smile. You nearly stop breathing at the realization that she’s speaking to you.

“Me? Oh, uhm, nothing interesting, just my thesis statement for Uni.” You smile and Larissa rolls her eyes lightly with a smirk.

“Of course, it’s not interesting, otherwise you wouldn’t be staring at me every time I come in.” Larissa teases and you feel your ears grow hot, and your eyes grow wide in shock.

“Oh, sorry! I mean no offence!” You say urgently, realizing you’re probably embarrassing yourself even. You try to focus back on your laptop, hoping the floor will swallow you up. Larissa lightly pushes your laptop so its half closed.

“Oh, believe me, it’s quite the compliment actually.” She states with a smile before chuckling. “Gosh, its going to sound rather silly but sometimes, I hope to see you staring to figure out if I’ve made the right outfit choice.”

You’re certain if you blush anymore, you will faint. “Oh, I bet you’d still look good in a trash bag.” You manage to say before you can stop yourself and Larissa chuckles, and you smile yourself.

“Well, Y/N, thank you for that wonderful insight. I’m sure my wardrobe will thank you.” Larissa smiles before checking her watch. “I suppose it’s time for me to leave. Goodluck with your thesis, Y/N.”

Larissa stands to leave and begins to turn away and looks at you again, “You’ll be here tomorrow?” She asks and all you can do is nod.

-

Friday morning couldn’t have come quicker for you, and you excitedly sit down in your booth, jittering with excitement as you see Larissa enter. You lock eyes with her, and she smiles at you from across the café. You open your laptop and at least try to pretend that you are focused on something other than her.

Larissa grabs her order and sits opposite you in your booth, and you smile at each other.

“Morning.” You smile, looking up from your laptop and Larissa is wearing a sage green dress with a golden chain necklace, complete with a golden watch and you swear you can faint. “I suppose you didn’t feel like wearing a trash bag today, huh?” You joke, your face flushing.

Larissa chuckles lightly and she has you enchanted by the sound. She takes a sip from a drink as she raises her brow at you.

“Oh please, you’re too nice to me.” Larissa states and you take a sip of your own coffee before you close your laptop. Larissa looks at you questioningly, “Off for the day?”

“Oh, no. I’m gonna be here for a while but there’s no point in pretending anything else has my attention when you’re sitting in front of me.” You grin, you have no idea where the confidence has come from, but you decide that since Larissa has decided to sit with you for a second time, it’s the confidence you need.

Larissa chuckles again and smirks at you again. “Careful, you might convince me to never leave.”

You grin at her cheekily, you’re sure your cheeks are flushed but you decide to ignore and begin to speak, “you say that as if it’s a bad thing. Perhaps I don’t want you to.” You say, and Larissa smiles before taking another sip.

“You never told me what your thesis was on.” She states and shuffles somewhat close to you, and you look down at your laptop before looking back up at her.

“Like I said yesterday, nothing too interesting. But I’m currently writing about Rene Descartes influence on modern philosophy, seeing as some consider him the father of modern philosophy.” You say and roll your eyes.

“Ah, and this does not interest you?” Larissa questions, her hands finding themselves onto the table.

“It’s not so much that it doesn't interest me, but I am not too keen on modern philosophies, I know, I know, they paved the way for society today, especially with the way he connected geometry and Algebra, but I suppose at heart, I’m more of an ancient Greek gal.” You say with a light grin, and Larissa looks intently at you, a light smile on her lips. “Sorry, I’m boring you.” You say, and Larissa’s hand reaches out to touch your arm.

“No, I find it quite refreshing how passionate you are.” Larissa states and her hand doesn’t move from your arm, you grin up at her.

“Soo, what about you? What do you do?” You ask and Larissa smiles a tight smile before looking up at you.

“I’m the principal of Nevermore academy.” She says proudly and she watches as your eyebrows furrow together, and she removes her hand from your arm, anticipating some sort of backlash.

“Nevermore? I don’t think I’ve—Oh! Nevermore, the academy for outcasts? Wait, sorry, is outcast the right word? I dunno if I got that right, erm but yeah, I’m sorry if that’s offensive! But also, principal? That’s awesome!” You say, and watch as Larissa breathes a sigh of relief, and you eye her curiously.

“Yes, outcast is the correct term. Although, some would not consider it ‘awesome’, but I suppose that’s their problem.” Larissa states and you look at her.

“Some people just like hating people.” You state, “Like how some people hate me cause I’m gay, but I think that sort of hate just makes you more accepting. But you being the principal of Nevermore academy is awesome.” You smile comfortingly, as you place your hand hesitantly onto Larissa’s.

Larissa checks her watch and frowns before looking at you. “I’m sorry, darling but its time for me to go back to the academy.” Larissa says before standing, “May I see your phone?” She asks and you nod, handing her your unlocked phone, she types in something before handing it back to you with a smile.

“You have my number now, message me if you get bored with your thesis. I hope I can help with the boredom.” Larissa smiles, hesitating slightly before placing a kiss on your cheek. She then begins to leave, looking over her shoulder before waving with a smile.

Okay, so she called you darling, and then kissed your cheek, and THEN gave you, her number. You can die happily now.

-

You submit your thesis statement draft Friday evening and take out your phone to find the contact Larissa saved. You click onto it and begin to type out a message.

‘I submitted my thesis draft.’ You type and send almost immediately, excited to finally have a reason to message Larissa.

You see the read icon almost immediately and then the typing icon. You stay on the chat and watch intently as the typing icon appears and disappears three times before the message comes through.

‘Does this mean I won’t see your beautiful face in the morning now?’ Is the response and you squeal, squeal. Squeal at the response. You begin to type out your response.

‘No, luckily for you, and unluckily for me, it was only the draft, I still have to submit the real thing ☹’ You type back ‘Plenty of boredom on my part still, and many mornings left in the weathervane.’

‘I suppose you’re not too busy to attend the Harvest festival with me next weekend?’ Is what Larissa says and you swear you feel as if you can faint, this woman is too much and you love it.

‘only if you promise I can win you a prize.’ You respond and there is a grin on your face.

-

The weekend and week pass quite quickly and eventually the day of the harvest festival arrives. You and Larissa had been in the Weathervane nearly every single morning, except for Sunday, because you decided to take the day to have a break, due to Larissa’s encouragement.

You are dressed already, after much changing and tweaking but you decided on your final outfit change that it would have to do otherwise you would drive yourself crazy.

You pull out your phone and begin to type out a message to Larissa ‘hey, did you want to meet out front?’

You place your shoes on and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You look to see Larissa has messaged ‘Nonsense, I’m outside yours, we can walk there together.’

Your stomach does butterflies as you almost sprint to your front door and open it and see Larissa standing there holding two cups of coffee. You shut your door as you look up at her and nearly choke on your own breath.

She’s wearing a light green dress that cuts off just off above her knee, hugging her in all the right places, and a matching jacket, her hair pinned up in its usual pristine style.

“Hi.” You say, nervously shuffling on your feet and Larissa smiles lightly before stepping closer and handing you your coffee before kissing you on your cheek.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiles, as she pulls back. Your cheeks feel hot, and you look up at her through your eyelashes. “You look absolutely divine.”

“Me?” You manage to say, before looking down at your feet, “What about you?” You ask.

Larissa’s hand cups underneath your chin, as she brings your eyes up to meet hers, a smirk playing on her lips “Where’s the shyness come from, darling? Did I make the right outfit choice?”

“You look like a goddess.” You say, and Larissa grins down at you. You move your eyes away from hers and Larissa lets go of your chin.

“A goddess? That’s a new one.” She smiles and takes your hand into hers as you begin to walk. “Is that from all your university study? Is that where you’ve learnt to sweet talk?”

“Oh, no, it’s not sweet talk if it’s the truth.” You smile shyly up at Larissa and she grins at you, before taking a sip of her own coffee.

-

It’s a few hours into the night and you and Larissa have been endlessly flirting, lingering touches, longing looks.

You manage to catch a glimpse of a game booth that would let you win prizes, and you grab Larissa’s hand and excitedly pull her towards it, and you look back at her with a grin.

“I believe I promised to win you a prize.” You say and Larissa’s arm wraps around your shoulder.

“You don’t have spend so much time trying to win me a prize, when you’re already here next to me.” Larissa states and you look at her, and bite your lip, trying to ignore the heat that flushed throughout your body.

“I promised.” You repeat and Larissa’s eyes soften as she lets you wander off to the stall. She watches as you speak to the man running the booth and laugh along with him, and you look back towards her with a grin. She’s standing a distance away from you, not wanting to approach, content in watching your excitement.

She watches as the man hands you the throwing balls and you throw the first one, knocking down nearly half off the cans down. She watches as you grin and look back towards her and Larissa cannot help the yearn in her heart.

Your second throw leaves only one can left, and she watches how your tongue sticks out in concentration on your last throw and Larissa grins as you get the last can on the last throw, you jump excitedly and the man running the booth allows you to pick out your prize.

You throw another glance towards Larissa with a smile as you pick out your prize, her prize, and hide it behind your back as you make your way back towards her.

“That was impressive.” Larissa grins and you look up at her with a huge smile. You move your hands from behind your back, showing two matching bear keychains.

“I picked this cause, even if I’m not with you, or you’re not with me, you’ll see it and be reminded of me.” You say and hold out one to her, keeping the other for yourself.

Larissa doesn’t say anything as she takes the keychain from your hand and stares at for a moment before her hand is on your cheek and crashing your lips together.

You respond to the kiss immediately, and Larissa’s hands find your hips before she pulls away and rests her forehead against yours.

“I think we should go back to yours.” She says, slightly out of breath and you nod in agreement, speechless over this woman.

-

When you wake the next morning, Larissa’s arms are wrapped around your waist and you smile softly before checking the time. 07:04am. You shuffle so you’re facing Larissa and she looks even more beautiful than you could have imagined. Her hair is undone from it’s usual style, laying bare into the pillows underneath it, her face is bare from any makeup and you’re close enough to see every freckle that has graced her face.

Larissa stirs slightly before opening her eyes and looking at you. “Morning, sweetheart.” She says, her voice laced in sleep. Her hand reaches up to your cheek and she places a light kiss to your lips. “Do you know what the time is?”

“Oh, its just passed 7.” You say, leaning into Larissa’s touch. Larissa’s eyes widen in shock before she’s making her way out your bed quickly, speeding to pick up her clothes that are strewn about from the previous. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a meeting with the mayor at 8! Did you see where I put my phone?” She asks and you take it from the nightstand and hand it to her. “Thank you.”

There is a slight nervousness to her nature that you shrug off due to her being late, you get out of the bed and watch as she gets dressed quickly, amazed at how she can pull herself together so quickly.

“Where are you meeting him?” You ask Larissa, standing in front behind her as she uses your mirror to fix her hair into its usual style. She turns back to look at you, her hands pausing their movements.

“At a café in Burlington, I left my car at the academy, so I’ll have to get a taxi.” Larissa says, stepping closer to you. “I’ll message you.” She says, before kissing your cheek and leaving.

-

Days pass and you have yet to hear anything back from Larissa. You had left her a message, in which she had just read and not responded. You take the hint, no matter how much it hurts, and you do not attempt to message her.

It’s Wednesday morning and you’re sitting in your usual booth. You notice how Larissa hasn’t come in during the mornings anymore. You sigh lightly as you take out your flash drive and spare a glance to the bear keychain you had attached to it.

A shadow darkens your laptop and you feel hope swell in your chest, at the possibility of it being Larissa but as you see another figure, a lady in which you hadn’t seen before at this time of the morning, who had red hair and was wearing glasses, along with a baby blue cardigan over a summery dress. You smile lightly.

“Hi.” She says, almost nervously. “May I sit here?” She asks, and you look around the café and notice hoe the seating is unusually full. You nod and smile. “I’m Marilyn.”

“Y/N.” You return, with a shy smile. You try to focus on your work but notice the lady, Marilyn, staring at you. You bring your eyes up to meet hers and she smiles softly.

“What are you working on, Y/N?” Marilyn asks and you look at your laptop. Déjà vu from the first time you and Larissa spoke. You frown lightly and look back towards her.

“Just my thesis for Uni.” You return, shortly. You don’t mean to come across as rude but you know that the last time you had been nice to someone sitting with you at the booth, you had a one night stand, and she avoided you since.

Yet, your heart still yearned for. Marilyn’s eyebrows furrow together as she watches you together, throwing a glance at your bear keychain.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you seem quite upset.” Marilyn states and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but since I’m just a stranger, it might be nice to talk about.” Marilyn shrugs lightly, taking a sip of her drink, and you notice it in a to go cup.

You sigh, contemplating and decide that it would be nice to talk about it. “I, uh, met someone. I thought we were getting along great, we went to the harvest festival together, she kissed me, and then we went back to mine together. I haven’t heard from her since, haven’t seen her since even though she usually comes here in the morning.” You admit, and Marilyn looks at you comfortingly.

“I have a friend, who’s in somewhat of a similar situation.” Marilyn states, “Well, not exactly the same, kind of the opposite, and she’s the avoider. But she did so for a reason.”

You close your laptop and look at Marilyn whose hands are resting on the table and Marilyn smiles softly, looking at you with warm eyes.

“What reason would that be?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink, before avoiding her eyes.

“Well, see the person she was seeing was quite a bit younger than her, and after they got together, she just felt insecure about her age, about the difference in the stages of their lives. I mean, my friend has her career and knows that she wants to stay in her job for the rest of her life, but she confessed to me that the person she was seeing hasn’t even finished studying yet. She’s scared that this person won’t wanna be with her once she realizes the difference.” Marilyn says and you watch her, your eyes feel as if they’re growing wet. You don’t say anything immediately, noticing the similarities.

“Well, has she asked the person she’s seeing? Cause, you know, the woman I was seeing was quite the bit older than me and that was never a problem for me.” You shrug before sighing again. “Guess she just wanted some fun. It was a bad idea.”

Marilyn nods along, listening to what you say before checking her phone for the time. “I’ve gotta go now, will you be here tomorrow?" She asks and you nod.

-

A week passes and you and Marilyn become quite close friends, often giving each other separate advice. It’s evening time for as you type away on your laptop, its nearing closing time but you have just one more argument to write before you can leave.

You hear the door to the café open and you look up, seeing Larissa enter. Almost immediately, her eyes are locking with yours and you look back at your laptop, saving the file and closing it up before you get up to leave.

You make it halfway to the exit before you hear your name being called. “Y/N!” Larissa says, taking long strides, and you look back towards her, moving back slightly as she stands in front of you.

“Oh, hi.” You say, before pulling out your phone, pretending to check the time. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you.” You say, with a fake smile.

You turn around and leave the café, making sure you do not glance back, yet you yearn to, to turn around and you hope that Larissa will call out your name, but your heart drops as you walk down the street, and she still hasn’t called out your name.

You feel used. You feel sad and used. Did what you have mean nothing to you?

Unbeknownst to you, Larissa watches you leave, her hands gripping onto the keychain you had won for her, her cheeks growing wet as she realizes how much she has hurt you.

-

The weekend arrives and Marilyn invites you out to a bar, just for a friendly drink she had said. You enter the bar, which lighting is low and you notice Marilyn is at the bar, grabbing drinks and you approach her with a small grin.

“Hi, Marilyn.” You smile and Marilyn grins at you, looking up at you from over her glasses. You notice her taking two drinks from the bartender and thanking him, you furrow your eyebrows at her in confusion as Marilyn smiles.

“Hi, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited another one of my friends.” Marilyn smirks, and hands you one of the drinks she has ordered. It’s a glass of red wine and you smile at her taking a sip.

“That’s fine, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You smile, and Marilyn grins as she leads you to a table, your eyes are more focused on the bar, and you almost bump into Marilyn as she stops, grinning like a fool as she looks at you.

You move your eyes to the table and to your absolute surprise, Larissa is sitting there is a low-cut dress and her usual golden chain. She stands once she sees you. “Y/N.” She says and you look at her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You say, slightly tense, and Marilyn places her drink on the table. She shuffles slightly before speaking.

“I see you two have already met, which is great because I need the bathroom.” She grins and she rushes away.

“Wait, Marilyn!” You call after her, and she ignores you, as she walks through a crowd. You look back to Larissa and swallow. Jesus, even when you’re mad at her, she still has the ability to make you speechless. You frown as you connect the dots. “You’re the friend Marilyn was telling me about?” You ask, and Larissa steps closer to you. You don’t back away this time, and Larissa takes this a win.

“So that means, you are also the friend that Marilyn was telling me about.” Larissa says and her eyes soften. Her hands find yours slowly, in fear of you pulling away. You don’t and Larissa breathes a sigh of relief before speaking, “I never wanted to use you for fun, Y/N. I just—What I felt- what I feel- is very real and I was scared you’d think I was too old for you.”

You step closer to Larissa, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “I never would have thought that.” You say softly, and Larissa removes her hands from yours, placing them onto your hips. “I was, I am, falling for you, Larissa. You hurt me.” You say, and your cheeks grow hot as Larissa’s grip on you tightens.

“I am sorry, sweetheart. It was never my intention. But after I left yours in a hurry, I thought, I thought, you wouldn’t want to see me because of the workload I have, and I though you might’ve wanted more excitement.” Larissa says, her face coming closer to yours, “But, I have to admit that I am falling- No, I am in love with you, I’m in love with the excitement that radiates from you, the shyness that have when you see me, the passion you have for university, and the I love you.” Larissa confesses, her breath tickiling your lips.

You breath hitches as you close your eyes, before opening them again to see Larissa’s ocean blue eyes staring into your soul. “I’m in love with you too. I love hoe passionate you are about your career, I love how much you care about your students, I love the way you always make me feel so nervous.” You say and Larissa brings your lips together, in a soft, caring, loving, passionate kiss.

You eventually pull away and rest your foreheads together. In the distance you hear Marilyn yell. You both look over towards her as she’s grinning madly before she shouts, “I did it!”

You and Larissa look at each other before giggling.

Fin

#larissa weems x reader #wednesday #larissa weems imagine #larrisa weems #omg these bitches gay #fluff #fluffy asf #nearly died writing this #platonic marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #marilyn is not laurel

[fitz-higgins]

LGBT literature of the 1860s–1910s. Part 4

Well, it’s been a while. Here’s a new selection featuring three stories about love between students, lesbian poems, a comedy centered around a gay character, Proust's short story, and more

1. Bertram Cope’s Year, by Henry Blake Fuller (1919). Although this novel went unnoticed by its contemporaries, it is thought to be the first officially published American novel about homosexual men. It could be your perfect academia novel: Bertram, “no squire of dames”, is a self-conscious English teaching assistant at an Illinois university where he completes his thesis and tries to settle in life. Four women and three men are attracted to him, but Bertram is fond of “Dear Arthur”, his college friend Arthur Lemoyne who comes to live with him later. Interestingly, the story has a touch of comic and ironic, which was very rare for homosexual literature of that time. [Read online]

2. Le Monsieur Aux Chrysanthèmes (The Gentleman of Chrysanthemums), by Armory (Carle Dauriac; 1908). This is the first modern play (and a society comedy at that) that has a gay man as its main character. The character is Gill Norvège, a critic and writer, who uses a young widow Marthe Bourdon to get money. Marthe is hopelessly in love with Gill and borrows 30,000 francs from a poet Jacques Romagne, who, in turn, is hopelessly in love with Marthe. And then Gill sees Jacques one day and falls in love with him. [Read online in French or in English]

3. The Garden God: A Tale of Two Boys, by Forrest Reid (1905). Called “a classic of Uranian literature”, this story has it all: homoerotism, platonism, ancient gods and love at boarding school. In that school a fifteen years old Graham, who used to dream of friendship with a Greek god, meets Harold who looks exactly like that imaginary friend. But where there are gods there is also tragedy, so be prepared. [Read online]

4. Poems by Sofia Parnok. Parnok was the first open lesbian in Russian literature. She was in a relationship with another famous Russian poet, Marina Tsvetaeva, as well as with some other women to whom she dedicated a number of poems. Often called the Russian Sappho, she often refers to Sappho in her poetry and also used her famous phrase, “Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us”. Some of Parnok’s poems are translated and more is available in Russian.

5. Teleny, or The Reverse of the Medal (1893). Not the first, but one of the earliest examples of English-language homosexual erotic novels (though rather sophisticated), its author is unknown, but some believe that it was written by Oscar Wilde. Here we have a tragedy again, a tragic love between a Frenchman and a Hungarian pianist, to be exact. There’s also something literally queer going on, because the Frenchman, Des Grieux, has a telepathic connection with the attractive pianist, Teleny. Eventually they meet, and Teleny introduces Des Grieux to the underground homosexual world of Paris. Bonus: the novel has a comic adaptation, Teleny and Camille, by Jay Macy, and also a “prequel”, Des Grieux, written in 1899. [Read online]

6. Anders als die Andern (Different from the Others), by Bill Forster (Hermann Breuer; 1904). The title is supposedly derived from a phrase that was popular among German gay men of that time, “We are, thank god, other than other people”. Herbert, the protagonist, falls in love with Ernst, the boy from his school. They go hiking together, and for some time they are close. But Ernst, although flattered by Herbert’s attention and feelings, rejects him twice, and it destroys Herbert’s life.

7. Avant la nuit (Before dark)by Marcel Proust (1893). A forgotten short story by Proust, written when he was only 22, despite what you might expect, tells about a lesbian woman. She is incredibly unhappy: she is in a relationship with a man, but wants to confess her true sexuality and suffers from her own dishonesty. Finally, she tells him the truth and asks for his compassion. In a way, this story defends homosexuality and explains why it cannot be condemned. [Read online]

8. The Prussian Officer, by D. H. Lawrence (1914). Praised as a masterpiece of short fiction by some critics, this story is rather grim. A captain slowly becomes attracted to his young, simple orderly. However, he represses his feelings and, instead of showing any kind of affection, turns aggressive and humiliates the young man. And it is not going to end well. [Read online]

9. Quelques Portraits-Sonnets de Femmes (Some Portrait-Sonnets of Women), by Natalie Clifford Barney (1900). One of the most famous lesbian poets of the 20th century, Barney wrote a chapbook of love poems to women that were so scandalous her father bought up all remaining copies and burned them. Two novels based on or about women’s affairs with Barney were also featured in previous chapters of this list. The book is not available online, but some poems can be found in English here and here.

10. The Intersexes: A History of Similisexualism as a Problem in Social Life, by Edward Prime-Stevenson (1906). Prime-Stevenson didn’t just write the first novel about gay men with a happy ending (featured in the previous part of the list), but also an interesting study, one of the earliest ones. Using science and history, he defenses homosexuality, which is why he is considered to be one of the first advocates for the rights of the LGBTQ community. A very progressive work for his time, it rejects the binary of masculine and feminine and insists that homosexuality is a natural result of human evolution. [Read online]

P.s. Previous parts are collected here.

#lgbt literature #queer history #dark academia #lesbian literature #oscar wilde #russian literature #natalie clifford barney #marcel proust #lgbt history #gay literature #lesbian history #gay history #victorian era #blog: history #blog: literature

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 32 - Munchies

Gale is hungry and not for food. So is Astarion, and that innuendo IS intended.

On AO3.

So, y’all nearly lose Lae’zel. Mostly because outta the three options y’all got, “searching for the hidden location of a bunch of lizard murder hobos” sounded like the longest, most involved, and most dangerous one.

Lae’zel takes it about as well as can be expected. She cuts one of her training dummies into pieces with a single-minded viciousness that makes you wonder who’s face she’s projecting onto it.

She does end up staying, though.

Then there’s the western route. Y’all murdered druids so Halsin could have a smooth transition back into power if 1. Y’all even find him, 2. He ain’t dead, and 3. Y’all ain’t dead. Three steps makes this one slightly less of a pain but still not ideal.

So then there’s old Auntie Ethel.

You show Gale the map she gave you, with her house marked on it—damn thing is enchanted and he eyeballs it real weird. There’s only her house and a mark he says is some kinda wayfinder rune stone thingamabob.

To which Wyll chimes in about the rampaging demon woman you kinda roped all y’all into dealing with.

To which Gale puffs up, lifts his hands, and opens a fucking portal.

“Jesus fuck,” you say. “How the fuck long have you been sitting on that?”

“Will it trap us in a stone?” Astarion says, having decided to grace y’all with his presence, though he seems kinda put out by it.

Not long, Gale explains. And also no, on the stone thing.

Gale took a hit after waking up in a portal after the butthole ship went down. Shadowheart and the others chime in with the same. Spells weaker. Some unsteady (Gale says with a pointed look at Astarion, who dodges it) or unusable. Only Astarion seems to have netted positives (which sends him preening for about five minutes).

But their strength is returning, gradually. Gale had felt his magic capacity (“connection with the Weave, Eleanor” so now you’re calling it his mojo) increasing every day. So now he can cast this. Apparently, it connects to that rune stone thing on the map by Auntie’s house. As best you understand it (in between zoning out) it’s kinda a train station (or subway, since it “tunnels between the fabrics of the realms”). Y’all’ve seen weird marks carved into big rocks; those are the waypoints.

You call them teleporters, cause that’s what they seem like to you and you couldn’t follow his detailed explanation all the way through. It ain’t like you can use magic anyway.

As none of y’all want to spend the night at some stranger’s house in god-knows-where, y’all break for the night to settle in.

But Gale catches you before you get far. Up close, you can see sweat on his brow. He’s trying hard to hold himself straight, project calm and coolness as usual. But there’s a strain around his eyes that you ain’t seen before.

“May I have a word?” he says.

Only Astarion lingers, idly swirling a cup of wine near the fire. He looks up as you glance his way, but then you look to Gale again.

“Sure,” you say.

He leads you off a bit, out of earshot of most of camp. Stops at the tree you and Wyll had chatted under.

There, he tries to slap on a smile. But there’s tension around his eyes, and even the smile seems to twitch with effort.

“We’ve been on the road together for some time now, haven’t we?” he says. “Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles. Ever since you were kind enough to pull me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and generosity.”

This is a speech, you realize. Man’s practiced this. He’s usually expressive when he talks; waves his hands a bit and his face is animated. Here, he’s still and forced-pleasant. You watch him sharper as he goes on; having delivered the opening sentence, he backs that up with exaggerated examples you ain’t sure even he believes.

“In short, I’ve grown to trust you,” he says. And there’s the thesis.

“Okay?” you say.

He waits a pause. Probably expected something more, and when you don’t elaborate, he sort of stumbles into the next part. Uses more words than he needs to (he must be one of those people who get a “five page essay” assignment and turn that sucker into fifteen pages, single-spaced) to get to the next part. “You see, I have this… condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.”

You frown. “What kinda condition?”

Much better than leading with “is it contagious”, which you want to do.

“The specifics are rather personal. Suffice to say, it’s a malady I’ve learned to live with. Though not without some effort.”

Like slamming down both a dirt and a blood potion in the morning. The man makes these for you. He was one of the first of them (Shadowheart being the actual first) who tried to help you. And he cooks for y’all. You owe the man your time and attention.

And then he says he needs a magic item. Which, okay? There’s gotta be plenty of those around Faerun, right?

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t vital—dare I say it, critical,” he says. “I may have, ah, pushed it aside for too long, now. The need has become severe.”

You nod, but then catch his glance. You got your arms folded, and your glowing ring lights his face in soft blue in the shade of twilight. Your first, real jewelry. Your enchanted jewelry.

“I know the allure magical items possess. I understand their value, and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you, and I promise, you will be rewarded with any and all means at my disposal.”

Again, the flicker of his gaze. The raw hunger in his eyes. Except it’s not just hunger, is it? That’s fear tightening his jaw and drawing a line between his brows.

“What happens if you don’t get an item?” you say.

He loses the last few threads of fake charm. His face goes entirely grim. “It’s already started, I’m afraid. And as you’ve probably noticed. I’ll spare you the finer details, but it begins with simple biological deterioration. Muscle spasms, disorientation, a slight ringing in the ears. And, if left for too long…catastrophe. And not just for myself.”

Jesus on a pogo stick. Only now do you notice the tremor in his hands. The hands he’s carefully left hanging at his sides, rather than draw attention to them as…as he normally does goddamnit.

“Why in the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?” And what the fuck is it about this group of screwheads not letting anybody else know they’re literally starving or like, melting from the fucking inside? These fucking people.

To this, Gale winces. “I don’t intend to impugn what I’ve now seen is your good character…”

“But we’re all a bunch of strangers on a butthole ship. Yeah, okay, I probably didn’t need to ask that.”

A lizard murder hobo, a vampire, and now a wizard with a chronic illness. What the fuck are Shadowheart and Wyll hiding?

You look at the ring. The one good thing in all this. The first actually nice thing you’ve ever had.

But Gale don’t look well at all. And he’s helped you so much in all this. You probably owe him your life, and it’s bad group dynamics to let one of them stumble and fall.

You sigh.

The second you get something nice, the universe comes to snatch it away. As usual.

You try to ignore the way your throat tightens as you wiggle the ring off your pinkie. It’s not even that nice of a ring and it was too small to begin with. And Faerun is littered with more. This was probably their version of one of them quarter machines in a grocery store selling kid’s jewelry. You ain’t gonna get upset over something that small, not when it sounds like this man’s life actually depends on it.

You hold the ring out. His whole face lights up in relief. “Thank you.”

He presses his hands to his chest. His whole body flares in purple light and he kind of grimaces, but it’s the Thanos snap that dissolves the ring to dust what really grabs your attention.

“Holy shit,” you say.

“Yes, it’s quite a sight.” He pants a couple of moments, dry swallows a couple more times, and then sighs as his whole frame relaxes. “H’oh, that hit the spot. I can feel it work. The magic is a lullaby that sings the demon inside to sleep.”

And if that ain’t the most concerning phrase. He must see the “what the fuck” on your face, because he lifts his hands (oh look, he’s gesturing again), and continues. “Not literally. I’m only saying, it has worked. And I am indebted to you, most gracious lady. You can count on me for any aid that you require.”

You…did do it because he makes the potion that keeps your soul from flying off into space. But you also did it because he’s part of the group and you don’t like seeing people hungry or hurting.

“It’s all good,” you say. “How, um, how often d’you need one of them?”

“I was able to wait about a tenday between, back home. I had a steady supply of such artifacts in my tower at Waterdeep, mind you, and I wasn’t gallivanting about the countryside with a worm in my head while fighting packs of goblins. I nearly pushed it too far, this time, and it hasn’t even been that. I suspect I may be down to a hand of days, maybe a few more.”

So about five days, give or take. Swell. Peachy.

Fuck.

“Right,” you say. “I guess we’ll have to keep an eye out, huh?”

The look he gives you is so warm and relieved you have to look away. “I am sorry for asking this of you, but I truly, truly appreciate your help. You do your people credit, Eleanor, to have raised such rare kindness in a person.”

And that’s hitting too close to home.

You nod again, mumble something about heading in for the night. He sweeps down into a both-arms-out bow and leaves you with a defined pep in his step.

He passes Astarion on his way back up, who gives the wizard a single, arched eyebrow.

When the vampire man reaches you, he says, “I’ve known people hungry for power, but Gale takes a bit too literally for my liking. At least I only take blood.”

So he heard. You wonder just how sharp them pointed ears actually are.

Gale needed that ring. You know that, logically. But still, you look to your bare pinkie finger and the cold disappointment sinks into you.

“At least he only wanted that trinket,” Astarion says. “Can you imagine if we’d had to give him something more valuable? Gods, what happens when he needs another one? I’m not donating.”

You try to smile. But too much has happened today, and your own masking game ain’t up to par at the moment. Astarion gives you a sort of pitying look.

“Don’t tell me you actually thought that bauble was useful?” he says.

“Not really. Just, you know. First actually gold thing I ever wore.” And that makes you feel even more pathetic, so time to change the subject and make a joke! “So that means the next one we find, I call dibs, got it?”

He lifts his hands in surrender. Eyes you a second. “Lower class family, was it? Grew up with a single pair of shoes between you and your siblings, and one good dress to visit whichever temple your family liked?”

You huff. “I had three skirts, thank you very much.”

“Oooh, someone’s family was moving up in the world.”

Normally, you’d be down for this sort of game. Teasing is fun when the other person plays into it. But this topic…it’s a little more difficult. And you’d really like nothing more than to crawl into your tent, lay down on your face, and pass out until morning.

You try to smile.

“I’m heading in for the night,” you say. Pause and look him over. He’s a touch paler than he has been the last couple days. A light smear of purple smudged under his eyes. “Have you, y’know, fed on anybody else? Since me, I mean?”

“Haven’t had the chance, darling. Are you offering?” A glint in his eye. You don’t miss his gaze moving down your neck.

“Not tonight, sorry. You took more than my usual donations, I think, and I ain’t really sure how healing spells work when it comes to replacing red blood cells.” At his stare, you veer off into explaining that part of biology, as best you can remember. Then, “But I think in a week, I should be okay. If, y’know, that’ll still help you out.”

He’s on full smarm when he says, “How could I turn down such a delectable offer? Though I’ll be sure to take less next time.”

There’s a slight question at the end of that sentence.

“And I’ll be ready with a potion and some actual bandages,” you say. Last damn thing you need is the whole crew finding your half-bled carcass drooling in the dirt again.

Astarion literally twirls one of his curls around his finger. He’s got such Blanche Devereaux energy.

“Well,” he drawls. “Do let me know when you feel up to it.”

You nod. Lift a hand. “Night.”

“Good night, darling. Do sleep well. I’ll be waiting in my own tent, whiling away the time until I can taste you again.”

Jesus lord.

You consider flipping him off. Decide you don’t wanna take the time to explain that gesture and get into a verbal sparring match over the potential innuendo. Settle for a, “You do that.”

Never has a bedroll been so comfortable.

Which is why you shouldn’t be so surprised when, halfway through a dream involving you and Deadpool (except you were Deadpool?) robbing a steam engine while fighting ninjas armed with a gatling gun, the dream shifts and your soul slams back into your body.

The sudden physicality of it jolts you. Dreams don’t have feeling, but suddenly the air is cool and smells vaguely like…burnt metal? Carbonized steak? You lie flat on your back, staring up at an old screensaver of spinning, LSD purple clouds. And there’s somebody talking nearby. And that voice is vaguely familiar.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion #astarion x tav #feeding alligators fic #plus size tav #demisexual tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #slow burn #they're both dumb #it's a goddamn isekai #i'm not sorry

[gowoelfinneniguess]

The Best (or Worst) Pick-up Lines

Pia: Okay, I’ll start. Are you ready?

Feli: Yes

Pia: I have a pen and I’m looking for a phone number. Imagine all the possibilities

Feli: Can you look me in the eyes next time? So that I can really feel it. Can you repeat it?

Pia: Yeah okay. You gotta open your eyes if you want eye contact though! I have a pen, you have a phone number. Just imagine all the possibilities!

Feli: Wow

Pia: Would you give me your number after that?

Feli: Nah, and I wouldn’t give you a pen either

Pia: You’re supposed to read it right away!

Feli: Hey sweet pastry, are you looking for a filling?

Feli: I’m just getting ready emotionally

Pia: I’m just gonna read it aloud, it’s a long one.

Feli: Imagine you’re at a bar and you meet someone and you’re like “let me just get my paper…”

Pia: Excuse me, my friend over there is a little shy. He would like to know your phone number so he’ll know where to reach me tomorrow morning.

Feli: That’s so bad.

Feli: Okay, wow. That’s quite the essay. I can’t look into your eyes for that.

Pia: I will feel it anyway.

Feli: Can I borrow your phone for a second? I have to call my mother and tell her I just met the woman of my dreams.

Pia: Wait, is there more?

Feli: No. I just wanted to state that this was the worst one yet.

Feli: I’m hanging onto your every word

Pia: I’m with the TÜV [car safety agency], can I inspect your honkers?

Feli: We heard that from Jo once, cause she’s always at the TÜV (???). Jo Wedemeyer–it’s an inside joke.

Pia: Oh god. I haven’t recovered yet, but it’s okay, go on.

Pia: Are you gonna fall to your knees?

Feli: No, just stay there. Wait, what was it again?

Pia: Should I hold it up?

Feli: Hey, do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk in one more time?

Pia: You could go on Bauer sucht Frau with that *banter about reality tv* it was great acting.

Feli: Thank you.

Pia: Is your name Google? Because you’re everything I’ve ever looked for.

Feli: For your bachelor or for your master’s thesis? Eh, that one’s okay.

Pia: Of course there are many other search engines.

Feli: This one’s nice: I’m so bad in bed you have to experience it to believe it

Both: Okay…well…yeah…you can…yeah...

Pia: Did it hurt when you fell down from heaven?

Feli: Yeees, there it is! Nah, it was alright actually.

Feli: Mind telling me your name?

Pia: Pia

Feli: I need it for- I need it for my Chris- nah. I’ll start over! Mind telling me your name?

Pia: Pia

Feli: Pia. That takes me out of it a little bit.

Pia: I’ll stop.

Feli: Mind telling me your name? Not Pia! I have to write it down on my list for Santa.

Pia: Wow, that took three attempts.

Feli: I can’t concentrate anymore.

Pia: If you were a potato, you would be a sweet potato

Both: That one’s cute!

Feli: From Edeka. Oh no, this is not an ad!

Pia: Definitely organic.

Feli: Are your legs not tired? You’ve been walking through my head all night [=you’ve been on my mind]

Pia: How many steps?

Feli: At least 10,000.

Pia: If you’re here, who’s up in heaven playing the harp?

Feli: Ukulele

Pia: I’ll sing

Feli: But you already said I fell from the sky

Pia: Yeah, you’re here, and who’s playing ther harp up there?

Feli: I see, you’re right.

Feli: Well, that’s a classic: did you park in the wrong spot? Because I’m here to tow you [to tow, “abschleppen” is slang for taking someone home]

Pia: Oh god.

Feli: Boring.

Pia: Do you think any of these work?

Feli: I think so, yes. Write it down in the comments if any of you have found the love of your life this way.

Pia: That would be interesting.

Feli: I don’t know of anyone.

Pia: Me neither. They don't work on me either!

Pia: When god made you he was definitely showing off.

Feli: Nobody has ever told me that!

Pia: Last one?

Feli: If you were a president, you would be BABE-raham Lincoln. Uh-huh. Well.

Pia: Which one’s your favourite? I know mine.

Feli: You know yours?

Pia: Of mine. I can’t remember all of yours.

Feli: Tell me please

Pia: “I’m with the TÜV, can I inspect your honkers” that one’s hilarious

Feli: YOU MAY NOT but yes that’s a good one. I liked number five. “I’m so bad in bed you have to experience it to believe it”. It’s a little self deprecating. That’s pretty cute.

Pia: The one I would most likely use is the sweet potato

Feli: Use?! I would only ever use the headline: "Valentine’s Day pick up lines, intern, common," And that’s going in the video.

Pia: Thank you for listening. Have a nice Valentine’s Day!

Feli: To you and your loved ones

Pia: The ones you don’t need to pick up anymore

#pia wolter #feli rauch #Youtube

[suit-of-cups]

Hi, I’m new to the Tumblr pagan/polytheist-sphere, and I was inspired by my research on Sappho and Aphrodite (I'm slowly working on defining modern Sapphic rhetoric and modern Sapphic online and offline spaces) for my MA thesis to look into polytheism. I' also identify as a sapphic woman so this topic is in general very fun for me to learn about. I really like your blog, and I'm curious if you just worship deities, or do you worship heroes, spirits, etc. as well? Would you be interested in worshiping Sappho, for example? Also, would it be okay if I included your answer in my project? If not, totally cool! ☺️ and if so, thats great too. (I can def give you more info about what I'm doing if you'd like as well.)

Hi! I’d be more than happy for my answer to be in your project(if it makes sense, if not I'm happy to try and explain more). I may also put a few disclaimers in here just so that people don't think I'm against their beliefs, just that I don't personally follow them and I support others that may have differing beliefs,! (can you tell I get anxious easily)

I currently only worship deities simply because of their aspects of them being divine beings and having domain over situations, much like other religions I will look towards them for guidance in situations and for help in aiding me when I feel there is a need, and simply try to create a relationship with them. I will find myself more relying on deities/gods as I believe that while they won't influence everything or always answer my prayers, they do have the power to alter situations in their domain and if they were to answer then they would have the ability to do so. (when I say domain I mean the things they are known to have control over, such as Lord Apollon and music).

I have been looking into heroes, but (from what I've found and it may be incorrect) it’s a very different process than to the gods, you're more honouring them than worshipping. I've found myself thinking of heroes in situations that may be similar to theirs, but I am often not going to them for situations where I feel genuinely in need for guidance, as I would prefer to go towards one of my gods instead.

With spirits I find its a slight more difficult topic for myself as I distinguish them in 2 or 3 categorise.

(This part might be controversial, and I don't frown on those that do this, its just a personal opinion) If we're talking about spirits of those that have passed, such as ancestors, I'm a big believer in leaving the dead undisturbed and respecting their beliefs(such as how they're buried and what with), and as I have no knowledge of what their relationship to spirituality was I don't want to do something against their belief. Such as some people believe that communicating with the dead is some form of 'devil worship' so trying to work with them after their dead would be disrespectful of their beliefs, and while their opinion may have changed after being dead or be willing to communicate, I would much rather keep my distance and leave them to rest, as while others have reasons to communicate with these spirits, I don't.

Additionally, I wouldn't include heroes into that section as spirits as I feel they have been communicated with for years and many people have positive relationships with them so I feel as though we have an understanding on their belief with communication after death.

If we're more referencing spirits in the daemones sense (personified spirits), then I do actively worship them, such as Lady Mnemosyne, and I hold them to the same level if divinity as the rest of the Olympians, much like I do with the Titans. I find that that I may think of them or worship them during times of heightened specific emotions, such as if I'm having a period of disrupted sleep, I may pray towards Lord Hypnos, or if I'm looking for justice in a situation I may look towards Lady Dike as well as other gods.

If we're talking about spirits that don't fit into these categorise then I have very little interaction or opinion on them, but if people have other information on them I'd be willing to look into it and it may alter my opinion.

(I would personally place Sappho into the 'heroes' section) I’m not sure if I would worship Sappho simply because of what I personally relate her too, which is literature and writing. While I do enjoy these things, and may look to her for inspiration if I'm writing or reading something, but its not the most prominent aspect of my life and I would be more likely to turn to the gods in these situations. I also know some people may worship her in relation to her sexuality and relation to love, but, while I very rarely pray for love related matters anyway, I would feel more comfortable looking towards gods that have domain over it, however I can see why some people may try to get advice from heroes.

Also sorry for the late reply, I was trying to gather my thoughts on the subject and lay it out in a way that makes sense, and feel free to send another ask if you want any more info or if this doesn't explain it well. (I may also edit it if I find any mistakes or feel I could explain better, but I hope this makes sense)

#the cup spilleth over #hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #hellenic gods #hellenic pantheon #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheist #hellenic polytheistic #hellenic polythiest #hellenism

[neonun-au]

wips im never going to finish #1

that time for a collab where i was going to write first person taeil mad scientist au through journal format like dracula lmao

ummm i dont think there are any warnings below its just.....the beginning of something fkdlsahfdas

30 August, 1817

I am on the train heading north. Father has seen fit to pull me from my studies, at such a time when I am making exceptional progress, in order to meet the woman who is to be my bride. He has given me an ultimatum--marry or there will be no inheritance. As I am reliant on his support and his wealth for the continuation of my studies, I must acquiesce. 

Though it is entirely against my will, I see no reasonable way out of the arrangement. 

The air up here is bleak. What little sunshine we have in the south only dissolves further into grey clouds the longer the journey goes on. I feel as though I am heading towards the end of my life as I know it to be. That the grey clouds overhead are an omen of sorts, sent to mimic the certainty and acuity of misery I am bound to endure as a husband. To be forced to share my life with one I do not know. With one who certainly will have no interest in my life’s pursuit and will instead desire me to accompany her to dull function after dull function--conversing with the wealthy yet ignorant masses. Caring more about fancy dress than the contemplation of philosophical questions. 

Again, I see no reasonable way out. So I will submit to this future, but I will not give up the pursuit of eternal life. Perhaps if I am able to unlock these secrets despite the burdens and responsibilities of marriage, I can then do as I please with both the time and money that will come as a result. 

Perhaps also there will be some small comfort in having a wife. There is a chance, however  small, that she will be clever. For that I pray even more so than for a wife of beauty. 

31 August, 1817

I have alighted in town. The train journey was wearying and endless, but finally I have arrived. The North is as bleak and as depressing as my colleagues at the university had warned me they would be. The inn I am staying in is old. The wallpaper is peeling at the corners, the floorboards creak at ungodly hours. But I am here, and it is at the very least a blessing to no longer be in transit. 

Tomorrow I meet my fiance. I am trying my hardest not to fatalize the encounter. To not paint her in such a way in my brain that my preconceived notions will bleed into our first impression. But as I have nothing to do except think in the dark of the inn room, this is proving to be a rather fruitless venture. 

Instead I sit here pondering my thesis in an attempt to distract my wandering mind. How to solve the problem of aging? Of death. Is it really an inevitable end? Or can God be defied. I do not believe in God, but I do believe in science. As such, I am of the mind that this problem of death can be overcome. Science will find a way. I will find a way through science. I think it is a matter of alchemy rather than biology. As of late I have been reading the works of Copernicus and Boyle and they each present some interesting theories on the subject. I have found Boyle’s experiments to be especially illuminating as he takes more of a chemical approach. 

It is difficult to speculate on this further as I left my notes and texts back at home in my study, so I suppose I will conclude my musings for the evening. As it stands, I can only theorize about the concept as I have no practical or indeed legal way of testing it out currently. 

All I know currently, is that if tomorrow’s meeting goes as I fear it shall, my interest in the subject of death may become a wholly self-serving matter. 

2 September, 1817

I am in love. This is not by design of my Father, as the woman he would have me marry is as an abysmal a spinster as I had feared. Dull of face and dull of mind. No, but her sister, by some small miracle, is an angel. Clever, beautiful, and highly capable. We discussed literature and mathematics at some length while Edith, my to-be wife, was out for the shopping. 

She is perfect. 

Her name is ______ and she is perfect and yet it is hopeless. How can I possibly convince my Father, as stubborn as he is, that he has made a mistake. That he is planning for my future with the wrong sister. Perhaps this is some small joke of his, some spiteful act of revenge for me squandering his money with my “useless academics”, as he so fondly puts it. 

My mind is torn in two, as is my heart. Her face has made permanent home in my mind, her delicate laugh resounds through my ears even as I sit in silence. It is a wonderous thing to find someone so perfect in such an imperfect place. To think she was absent from my life only mere days ago, and already I cannot fathom a world without her.  

We discussed briefly my academic work and she seemed highly interested. This was an unexpected and wholly welcome delight to me and only increased my fondness. She sat enraptured as I detailed the work of my professors and the advances I hope to make in the world of medicinal science, she even posed a few questions on the matter. I wish to speak with her more on these matters.

Alas, she was born of the fairer sex in a world that is rigid and unkind to those women that might otherwise be excellent scholars. It is endlessly tiring and silly that we must perpetuate this idea that women are not clever. Perhaps after we are married I shall take her into the college myself and watch the old men’s jaws drop in shock and horror. 

But I am getting ahead of myself, for I do not know if it is even possible for us to be married. I must speak with my father, I will write a letter forthwith and await his reply. Surely, in his eyes, one wife is as good as another--he cannot hope to deny me this one small happiness. 

3 September, 1817

I have received a letter from my colleagues at the college. They discuss at length the happenings in the department of Science and Medicine and it makes me ache to return to my studies. How can it be that they are of my same age and yet share so few of the troubles plaguing me at length? Instead they are free to be young and unattached from any arranged marriages, only living for their studies and for their evening games. One such fellow, Paul, a man whom I have had very little to do since he all but burned off my hair in a failed lab experiment years ago, has apparently caused himself some great bodily harm. 

It’s a bittersweet thought. My friend, no doubt, sent me the news in an effort to offer me some humour but the thought only turns the bile in my stomach. That they are there, working on their endeavours in good company, and I am here in the bleak north, waiting on my father to cast his sentence. 

Will I be man or martyr? 

#an interesting beginning #not well suited to fanfiction lmao #this was in like my first few months of writing on tumblr actually hahaha #2020 ???? #a different taeil horror fic from the one i mentioned before actually HAHAHA #mads.wip

[resistanceisfeudal]

Season 2 finale reaction

Opening the episode with everyone standing a responsible 2 metres apart. Safety first.

Somebody let seven change her shirt please

Hehe yes jl

Again the theme and credits still slap

Tallinn accidentally blurting out a thesis statement for the show

Ooh yes genius hacker raffi

I think I blame Angelina Jolie or maybe Carrie Anne Moss for this but goddamn hypercompetant queer coded hacker women my word my ovaries my dear

....

...

....

... I apologise for being bi on main again. Let's get back to it.

Dr soong is the Jacob Rees-Mogg of star trek. In a couple of ways tbh

I can't believe a star trek show included a character too smart for the ole outfit change technique

OK but from Renee's perspective this is creepy af

Have you tried, idk, just grabbing a drone and holding it down?

Ew very creepy soong

Yay Rios!!! I liked this victory moment it was wholesome

Tallinn came here to dispense wisdom and die. And she's all out of wisdom

OK that was mean I actually liked this. Orla Brady served this season

Let's be real he's actually the Elon Musk of star trek

KORE

Yes. My wife. Also hacking, because of course. Baby yes she gets something to dooooo!!!!!

Wait what? Um. Khan. Um....

I thought Khan was 1990s in star trek canon? Or was that retconned? Either way it's a clunky as fuck reference not a fan

Um

The fuck

What

Why

.... I don't like this

This episode is bizarrely structured what the hell

Wes here trying to make the dumb nerd time travel people seem cool. They're not. They're dweebs. We all know. Enterprise got this right.

That was random. But I'm glad kore has stuff to do.

KISS

OH MY GOSH MY DARLINGS

KISS KISS KISS

... honestly I don't think I ever truly understood qcard until this moment. I get it

Know thyself.... OK so tangent

"Know thyself" is the usual translation of the words (γνώθι σεαυτον) inscribed in the stone at the oracle of delphi. I mostly know it from the phaedrus but it's kind of everywhere in Greek philosophy. It's interpreted in range of different ways and is all over the place in "intellectual" pop culture. I love this. It's pretentious. It's high camp. Feed it to me with a ladle.

"Why me?" 🥺

I like this convo between q and jl a lot

Very gay 10/10

Get yourself a woman who will not doubt your ability to kill a god. Seven is wife material.

Teresa and child exist in this scene as props. But okay we all knew this was coming. I don't love it, I don't even like it but I'll talk about it some other time.

Forr the record, I hope that off screen Cris and Teresa had some amazing times together, and that whatever project santiago cabrera went off to work on is a success. I've been appreciating that man since Heroes so yes ❤ miss you already

Hahaha omg

Omg the hug

Yes

Heyyyyyy agnes

"Do not resist."

Ahhhh

Woop elnor!!!

Poor thing he doesn't even know what happened or that they'd be returning!!!

My baby kochanie my love my baby

I cannot believe that Agnes through shere power of nerddom reformed the fucking borg. I love her

Irrelevant but the polski shelf at Tesco's had Ukrainian chałwa. I tried it and tbh it's not as good. Solidarity anyway!

OK so dessert break over

This is sweet. Rios is a legend. Still sad he was written out tho

Sometimes a found family is you, your beautiful cyborg wife and your assassin nun son.

N'awww that was cute

It didn't do the thing I was dreading (ending on a massive cliffhanger). I think I'll definitely watch s3. Was pleasantly surprised by this despite some complaints. I have a more thought out retrospective planned but for now? Mostly positive, some complaints.

Also did I mention elnor????

#episode reaction #tonic's unwanted star trek opinions #spoilers #star trek picard #star trek: picard

[thinktosee]

MERYLL’S UNIVERSITY GRADUATION

Aunt Melet and Me

By

MERYLL MARRON DOMINGUEZ 

BACHELOR OF SECONDARY EDUCATION 

MAJOR IN ENGLISH 

CLASS 2023 

Four years of restless days and sleepless nights boiled down to this. It has to end eventually, but it’s a bittersweet feeling that I’ve come to the tail end of that journey. I’ll never miss the papers, activities, and quizzes, but I’ll definitely miss the feeling of crying through the pain and laughing once I’m done with everything. 

Learning at this academic institution was a roller coaster ride that was far from easy. But I will never forget the folks who believed in me and who supported me all the way through my college education. Looking back, it pushed me to keep fighting for my dreams despite the obstacles that arose, since there were and are many in my corner, who hope and continue to believe that I can overcome every adversity in my life. I knew this would be a test of my ability and patience to see how far I could go and to endure everything to achieve my diploma.

When I was young, I never thought that I will be the woman I am today, in view of the fact that I am from poverty and a broken family, I experienced so many things in life, and I can proudly say that “I SURVIVED.”  

Way back when I was in Elementary, I was nine years old at the time when I started to work and to earn money; my work place was a farm (namiss ko lang and proud ako doon). I travelled there every weekend to work. There were times when I preferred this work than go to school because I needed the money to survive, while thinking that I had dreams and goals in life. I also got bullied back then because of my/our situation, but GOD IS GOOD! He gives us hope by sending his instruments to help us to become the best version of ourselves today. (I’m referring to my two siblings my Eldest Brother, Denmark and Sister, Julie Ann).  

So this is it, I’m going to take this opportunity to say THANK YOU to My Auntie Melet who came back here to the Philippines from Singapore to attend my graduation ceremony. I would describe her as a generous, kind, loving daughter ever since (when Mommy and Lolo were still alive), loving sister to her siblings, Loving Auntie to her nieces and nephews. WORDS HONESTLY ARE NOT ENOUGH TO EXPRESS HOW GRATEFUL AND LUCKY I AM TO BE YOUR AMPON NGA PALANGGA MONG PAMANGKIN (without char). Thank you, Tita! because you are always there to support me in every endeavor since when I was in Elementary School right through to College. Also, in school matters, you always say “OKAY” “HOW MUCH IT COSTS?” without hesitation. I appreciate your sacrifices and HUMILITY, Tita Mom of 15 (Pamangkings) plus 6 (Siblings).   

To my Parents THANK YOU FOR MY LIFE. Although your relationship didn't last forever, I hope this achievement of mine will make you proud as your youngest daughter.  

To my Brother, Denmark and Sister, Julie Ann, and also to their partners. And to the Singh Family too. THANK YOU for your love and support throughout. Indeed, I can’t imagine this day and the future without your loving grace.

Left to right : Krizzia, Denmark, Julie Ann, me and Melet.

To my friends, and to all, thank you for making me laugh despite the stress and problems that I kept hidden deep within me. You always encouraged me to keep fighting for my dreams and moving forward to get my degree. Thank you for assuring me that you had my back anytime I was dissatisfied or concerned. All of your time spent with me and your attempts to assist me are so much appreciated. 

To my thesis buddies, thank you so much for all your help. Imagine we only had three months to finish our entire paper, but we never stopped and never got weary of finishing it. Praise God, we are the first runner-up in the Best Research Paper category. So, a BIG Thank You! 

To all of my teachers, professors, mentors, and coaches, thank you for all of your advice and input. The many captivating and life’s lessons that you taught will always be there with me, and I will go on applying them as I commence building a better future for myself and my family. Indeed, thank you for being very supportive of me. 

To everyone who cheered for me, supported me, and helped me for the past four years—and even those who doubted me—your cheers (and jeers) have all been heard, and I am eternally grateful. 

Most notably, to our Almighty Father, who helped and guided me throughout my college career. Despite all of my difficulties and troubles, you provided me with strength and health along my path. Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to finish strong until the end of my college years. Thank you so much, Lord! 

It's been a long, arduous, and frantic ride, but I'm finally on my way down the hill. Thank you, Notre Dame of Tacurong College. I know that the Almighty Father will still be there for me as I embark on the most incredible chapter of my life. 

"All of our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them."  

To God be the Glory!

- Meryll

- May 29th, 2023

Dad and me

Editor’s note : On 16th April 2017, we featured Meryll’s graduation from Junior High School. I was most privileged to be invited by the Dominguez Family to the JHS graduation ceremony in Mindanao. It was also an enormous pleasure to witness the spectacular event and just as importantly, to observe the notably quiet pride with which Meryll and her Family presented at the event.

Two years later, Meryll successfully graduated from Senior High School (see our post which is dated 8th May, 2019).

Over the years, Sara and I kept in touch with Meryll, through her Aunt Melet. Her academic and personal progress was clearly evident and remains a source of joy and pride within her family. If there is anything which Meryll typifies, it is of a vivaciously confident, caring and intelligent woman who trusts God and places her faith in Him, without equivocation. For her, everything good flows from that.

Meryll is the third in her immediate Family to graduate with a coveted Bachelor’s Degree. She follows Denmark and Julie Ann. All three children of Juan and Magdalena Dominguez have done very well for themselves. Each an inspiration to all of us.

Congratulations, Meryll.

[kivedreams]

I have 7k+ on a fic that was supposed to be 4k max, I am letting my delusions go wild, a spoiler:

here's the final product :p

idol namjoon x f. reader, f is latina and poc (and this is completely unedited i mean it )

Just a the moment you thought the party was dying down they arrived, is not like you hated the idea of having a party, but this week has been hard on you, nothing went exactly as you planned, having your thesis send back two times in a row, draw you down, that thesis was the last thing between you and your PHD, you knew it was going to be hard, but god it really was testing you, of course you were happy for NamJoon today was a big day for him, he was finally releasing the book that he always wanted to publish a full guide on Joseon era artwork focused on its influece of todays art, Namjoon was really proud of korean artists, so being able to pay homage to them was a big thing for him and for you, because namjoon happiness was part of your own. 

The tight red dress that you were wearing might have been a bit too much, but it was namjoon’s gift, it might have been tighter because you had put on some weight due to the stress of this months, going to the gym or doing any type of exercise was the last thing on you mind. You would be lying if you did not admit that, it was one of the things that were making you feel insecure tonight, your relationship was already hard, nobody believed that namjoon the first born child of a korean family, the leader of the most successful kpop group and now namjoon the writer would settle for you, a latin woman of color, that did not appeal to a single one of the korean standards, you weren't insecure by namjoon’s feelings, but you were insecure on how everyone else feelings and prejudices might influence his decisions, is not like you were desperate for the ring, you really didn't need it, nor were you prepared for marriage, but sometimes it feel like the only thing that could silenced all the voices in your head, all the social media talk, and of course everyone around you. 

“Y/N?” he called for you, you were still in the balcony of the apartment, seated in the light brown handmade chair, you purchase for the space, with a glass of wine enjoying the seoul night, a slight breeze, and of course the beauty, of the balcony, namjoon and you have crafted together, a lot of plants were everywhere accompany by artworks and souvenirs that both of you have collected through the years, some on your travels together some alone.

“Yes, darling” you responded looking at him, namjoon was a handsome man, you loved that haircut in him, and his choice of clothing today was a masterpiece, that beige suit with a purple bottom up was a perfect mix. He looked at you with confusion in his eyes, he quickly brushed that look a way and say,

“My parents are here, they're asking for you” are they? was the only thing in your mind

You walked to him with a smile taking his hands, to greet them, a most of the guest that have arrived since you little rendezvous to the balcony, you were begging that nobody would notice your weight, your thighs were clearly giving a show in that dress, god I hope the concealer is strong enough to cover the sleep bags in my eyes, do I still have lipstick on?.

“Y/N! His father greeted you “You look beautiful tonight! How is your thesis going? Are you close to the finish line? "His father always looked happy to see you, but was he?

“Mr. Kim! Thank you! And yes I'm close to the finish line, if everything goes as planned, I will be able to present it in a few weeks” You responded with a smile giving him a hug and doing the same with his mother. She always looked at you, at your hair with curiosity  of course 4B coils were not the norm in Korea, but Korean beauty standards weren't going to pressure you into hating your beautiful hair.

After polite talks  and greetings  for a whole night with people that were close to both of you, in professional and personal level, the night was over, Namjoon and you finished saying good bye to the last guest and his agent, the night was a success, as you knew it would be, Namjoon never fails to amaze you, you saw him the whole night , moving around and enchanting everyone, you get it, you too were enchanted by him.

Finally being able to get rid of the uncomfortable shoes and the red lace around your waist that made the dress even tighter, letting namjoon in the living room, talking with the service that was in charge of getting everything clean up and tidy again, walking straight to your room, dreaming of the comfort of your bed, you forgot all the things that were placed on top of it, because you didn't trust any of the frail art pieces to be in the open while everybody drank and mingle, with not other option, you moved to the balcony, walking down to the kitchen first taking a glass of wine with you and politely smiling to the service, namjoon was out of your sight.

Sitting on the cold floor of the balcony letting your hair free from the detailed bun that it was made into, enjoying the silence and peace of the night. You felt empty, maybe too much stress plus the insecurities in your relationship were passing you the bills, in a few months you would be 30, and if you get your PHD granted, working as a full time curator in the national art museum of seoul, just what you wanted, but was namjoon on your side for it? you didn't know.

#namjoon #yoongi #smut bts #bts fluff #bts imagines #kim namjoon #kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #kiv3

[mona-schreibt]

Last week I visited a friend from university and her family. We had a really great evening and a kind of thrilling conversation and I want to share the most important theses.

My friend and her husband fled from Syria in 2016. She was pregnant and they had a really tough start. They said it never were the people who made them feel beeing at the wrong place. They were never treated bad in a way that made them feel foreigners. But what made it really difficult was the bureaucracy. Just for an example: To get the status as refugees and thus the visas, they had to give 20,000€ for 2 persons as a kind of fixed term deposits. It still was their money but they were only allowed to take 1.200€ per month as a kind of guarantee that they would stay and not only receive social benefits. Their costs: flat 400€ per month, ticket for bus and train because she couldn't walk long distances, about 60€ per month, language school 300€ per month for both together, health insurance 300€ per month. Which makes it about 140€ per month left for food.

It was hard but they are happy now. He works in a hospital as a doctor, she works as a civil engineer. They bought a really nice, big house last year. They are happy living here and raising their son in a country without war.

Of course we talked a lot about the topic racism. And there is one sentence he said, I will never forget. He said "In Syria we, as catholics, always were a minority, but that was never a problem, friends, neighbours, colleagues, everyone respected your religion/confession and how you want to live it. Now we live in an originally christian country but everybody looks at me as if I was sick or crazy, when I say that I am catholic." - I can confirm this feeling. In our country nobody cares when you say you are a Atheist, Muslim, Jew, Mongol or whatever religion, but most people judge you when you say I believe in God or I am catholic/protestant.

We agreed on this thesis: Racism is not about what others say to you, it's about what you feel like when hearing it.

He had one experience when starting to work in a hospital. He had orders about how to treat one child, but during the night the health status of that child changed rapidly. He was the responsible doctor so he changed the medication and the child was better. The next morning he was asked "can't you cope with a female chief giving you orders?" He said she judged him from prejudices.

His wife said, you can't know if this woman wouldn't have said the same to other men and she was maybe just worried because she is his chief and therefor responsible for his action. But what counts is what you feel about it, no matter what the other one wanted to say.

#racism #sexism #living as a refugee

[bryregrad702]

The sound of identity Interpreting the multi-dimensionality of wāhine Māori through audio portraiture

Sheehan, M. (2020). The Sound of Identity Interpreting the Multi-dimensionality of Wāhine Māori Through Audio Portraiture [Doctoral Thesis, Auckland university of technology]. Open Repository AUT. https://openrepository.aut.ac.nz/bitstream/handle/10292/13262/SheehanM-exegesis.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y 

‘As such, it positions wairua (spirit) and mauri (life-force) as living, communicable phenomena, capable of interpretation.’ pg . 

Sheehan sought to communicate the multidimensionality of wāhine Māori through audio. This makes so much sense with the oral traditions of Māori culture! What she intended to do was make wairua and mauri communicable - to communicate the hearts of people. This is a practice of creating empathy!

‘Portraiture of wāhine has remained largely confined to the concerns with pictorial imagery and as such, it has failed to draw into consideration the potentials of a rich spectrum of purely aural modes (including kōrero20, karanga21 and oro22) that are integral to Māori ways of knowing and being. This is a significant issue when we consider that identity depiction of wāhine has a long rich history in oratory, waiata (song, chant) and pūrākau (narrative) and taonga puoro (traditional6 Māori instrumentation).’

Sheehan argues that visual portraiture is a colonial construct. This is interesting! What about objects? Is communicating through materials/objects made of the natural world something that aligns with Te Ao Māori? Maybe I need to consider the link this has to kaitiakitanga? 

‘Papatūānuku also communicates to us through the "landscape, mostly enshrouded in exquisite beauty, but sometimes sombre – the landscape scarred as her body is wantonly pillaged exposing her vulnerability. In song and sound the same power to communicate the intangible is revealed" (Pouwhare, 2016, p.114).’

Wahine atua Papatūānuku is the land... could wāhine then, be represented as the land?

Sheehan links the status of Māori women both to inheritance from atua, and to the position of wāhine Māori as te whare o te tangata (the womb) is referred to as ‘the house of the humanity - womb of woman’. Denise’s reserach also makes this link. 

So the worth of Māori people, therefore, comes from the fact that they are descendants of the gods. I can see a link here in my own worldview: I believe as Christian that all people have worth because they are made by God, in the image of God. This is interesting. As a Christian, I cannot acknowledge other gods as God alongside the one God, Yahweh. But I can see other worldviews, and draw parallels. 

Sheehan also outlines how colonisation changed the power balances of Māori women and men, situating Māori women as inferior to men.

pg. 9: some really important definitions - these readings are worth looking into, particularly those on mauri if I am seeking to investigate empathy through mauri

Marsden (2003)

‘Portraiture is an artistic form that seeks to represent and convey the multi-dimensionality of a person.’

‘Lawrence-Lightfoot and Davis (1997) suggest that “Portraitists seek to record and interpret the perspectives and experiences of the people they are studying, documenting their voices and their visions – their authority, knowledge and wisdom” (p. xv).’

My thoughts in response to Sheehan’s portraiture work:

Am I aiming to create portraits of these women? Is that what I need to do in order to engage the audience in empathy? 

Can I create a portrait of wāhine rather than one woman? Is it appropriate to generalise?

If I am creating a portrait, what is a portrait? Or what is a collective portrait?

[sun-stardustt]

BLACK WIDOW (2021) dir. Cate Shortland THE CREATION OF ADAM (1512) by Michelangelo

#blackwidowedit #mcuedit #blackwidowhub #marveledit #mcusource #natasharomanoffedit #dailymarvel #marvelgifs #dailyavengers #marvelladiesdaily #marvellegends #natashagifs #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #michelangelo #the creation of adam #art history #i believe the thesis here is god is a woman #these were all intentional i will die on this hill but the LAST ONE #literal mirror image #cate lemme kiss you directly on the mouth #GODDDDD #it's the way nat's knees are ALWAYS bent like adam's till the last moment when antonia is positioned like adam and nat is reaching like god #i am not religious but i sure do observe godly art references #and the way she's the one desperately reaching in all of these and no one is actively reaching until the end #the way yelena pulls away earlier and later antonia stays and wants her help #i think i could write a thesis on the symbolism of this all except it would make me foam at the mouth #don't talk to me ab the third gif ok #anyways #gonna repost some stuff and then finally we'll get to hawkeye text posts!!

[wellntruly]

It's time. Actually we can just repeat that last image again:

A Group That Barely Missed NOT Becoming Historic, but yet !!

Chuckle, he's just so wild for this.

I mean it’s not like Victor Marie Hugo does not frequently in this opus interrupt the plot to just explain a little guy to you, but it’s that there are nine of them.

To do this with nine little guys in a row….

Even if there were nothing else about this set of characters bonking around within the duvet cover of my brain, the structural chaos of the way the musical just suddenly releases the gates and lets flood the stage with Charli XCX's Boys one hour into a show where they had not been previous, is not in fact dissimilar at all to the sensation of reaching this chapter of the novel, wholly halfway through, and having a nine-part dramatis personae and a floor plan poured onto you like a sheaf of papers from a moderate height. Hugo what??!, you call out as you scramble to keep them together, but he’s already laughed his way offstage, and will now never explain himself.

Anyway, what follows is exactly what you want: a sort of recap-rundown-commentary on who all I’ve just been re-introduced to, and how.

We start at the top:

Enjolras

I mean of course he is, this feels like it explains a Lot actually, but my god Enjolras is a wealthy only child? Oh baby…very dark turns this story could have taken!

Anyway he’s gorgeous and mean. Classic rich twink behavior.

Priestly, disdainful (these are all direct Hapgood translations)

Rosy pale, 22 but looks 17—oh so Timothée Chalamet in Call Me By Your Name but blonde and loves WAR

Literally described as not knowing women exist and glaring at any that approach him, so, guess maybe this liberté and egalité really is just for the fraternité

Does not break revolutionary focus for any of the world’s stock of beauty or joy

I’ve never played DND but the amount of warlike and priestlike imagery combined here makes me suspect this guy is hardcore cleric, and it’s the one angle where I’m interested in him in himself and not just as a cold beautiful force that contextualizes other characters’ inner dramas

“Woe to the love affair that should have risked itself beside him!” I said this to a friend, and then revisited it to be sure, and will now at last say it here: the point of Enjolras is that he’s never going to sleep with you, and that too has meaning! The Point of Enjolras is that he’s just everyone’s Clive. Here is E.M. Forster in 1960 looking back on his Maurice (1914) and describing, I swear to you, Clive Durham, not his Edwardian Oxbridge AU Enjolras (as far as we know):

What Italian boy, what French, maybe… Anyway I’m not blowing a whole thesis on passage one so we'll leave it at that, just some food for thought!

Combeferre

“Between the logic of the Revolution and its philosophy there exists this difference—that its logic may end in war, whereas its philosophy can end only in peace.” I had to Close the Book for a second, uh oh! Uh oh I’m gonna be real tender over you in 2022 huh!

Best friend, confidante

“The Revolution was more adapted for breathing with Combeferre than with Enjolras.” I find the atmosphere he creates incredibly comforting. Imagine if you could breathe.

Gentle 😩

Sweet nerd! Gets excited over arteries and geology—a Harry Goodsir! Oh noo

It’s the 1830s and Combeferre is also complaining that literary education just confines itself to “the classics”—Combeferre wants to decolonize yr syllabus

Combeferre is out of undergrad and it shows

A purist & scientist but also thoughtful even on mythic creatures

“He believed in all dreams, railroads, the suppression of suffering in chirurgical operations, the fixing of images in the dark chamber, the electric telegraph, the steering of balloons”—I just, love him

Maybe holds a bit too much of an emphasis on innocence as goodness, like Hugo!

Je(h)an Prouvaire

Ren Faire. We love him.

(Knows what a woman is, and feels bad they have it so shitty)

Likes long walks, flowers, and POETIC GRANDEUR

Also a wealthy only son!

Blushing awkward dear but doesn’t let that stop him

Really I’m loving how endearingly embarrassing Prouvaire is, everyone needs an embarrassing friend who dresses poorly and has romantic nerd interests

Feuilly

Working class hero

Self-taught liberator of the people

Wow a lot of this ends up being a lament for the partition of Poland in 1772

Pretty sparse on personality details here since so much really was just about Poland, but: a generous heart

Courfeyrac

One of my favorite French names to say, definitely badly

“The particle, as everyone knows, possesses no significance.” Sounds like something someone without a particle would say, M. Hugo

“We might almost, so far as Courfeyrac is concerned, stop here, and confine ourselves to saying with regard to what remains: ‘For Courfeyrac, see Tholomyes.’” [Gasp], No! Say more! Say you lied just now and he’s not like Tholomyes!

“Only, Courfeyrac was an honorable fellow. Beneath the apparent similarities of the exterior mind, the difference between him and Tholomyes was very great.” Oh thank god! Also what! How can I ask this weird specific thing of Hugo and he delivers

“There was in Tholomyes a district attorney, and in Courfeyrac a paladin.” Wait hang on, now what is happening. Do we have to DND all these fuckers? Oh god I do Not know enough about DND…ah whatever I’ll do this blind: Feuilly is a ranger, Prouvaire is a druid, Combeferre’s a…wizard, a warlock? Whatever one is book learning not deals. Alright who’s next!

Bahorel

A ROGUE!

Aw I remembered “daring waistcoats and scarlet opinions”—now that’s a Hugoism

The button at the end of this run-on description “a student in his eleventh year”—sublime

Anyway he is good-nature and keeps bad company (again sublime), a bit of a scamp, respects others so they respect him, and saunters. “To stray is human. To saunter is Parisian.”

“In reality, he had a penetrating mind and was more of a thinker than appeared to view.”

Y’know what I think he’s Eames

Lesgle/L’Aigle/Legle [de Meaux]/Bossuet

The depths of French punning with this name I simply cannot fathom

Anyway, extremely unlucky and extremely jovial about it

Ostensibly a law student. Mostly just lives with Joly because he’s always losing what money he has.

Feels like a Dickens character really. What will befall this young man next! Picaresque energy.

Joly

Medical student

Hypochondriac to the point of mysticism—well that’s fun

The gayest! #text

Agreeably eccentric

Oh really elated I remembered correctly and the rest of them actually do call him Jolllly, that that was canon

“Joly had a trick of touching his nose with the tip of his cane, which is an indication of a sagacious mind.” Okay!

So he’s just any character played by Ben Whishaw, yeah? Neurotic fluttery-manic bird-boned weirdo, adorable.

Haha Hugo you’re feinting like you’re gonna skip him. I know you aren’t.

Grantaire

Le sceptique

“Grantaire was a man who took good care not to believe in anything.” there is So. Much. packed into That!

What this litany of how he knew “the best place for everything” actually tells is that Grantaire holds a lasting memory of every nice moment he has experienced. Haha fuck, fuck fuck fuck

“Grantaire is impossible” is a hilarious thing to say about his appearance. Also how do other English translators do what Florence Hapgood has chosen as “homely,” “inordinately” so

Knows what women are, thinks they’re all beautiful

A libertine, a fatalist, very drunk

It’s reeeaally presented as Grantaire being almost transfixed by the oppositeness of Enjolras to him. It’s like he’s nigh helpless in the matter, like it’s planetary—Grantaire is mess and doubt, he is therefore anchored to this pristine believer.

“He had need of Enjolras.” God this line fucks me up

The “yielding” descriptor fucks me up too. Grantaire will allow pretty much anything, including, we see, his own harsh treatment

“He was ironical and cordial. His indifference loved. His mind could get along without belief, but his heart could not get along without friendship.” [softly] stop..

Anyway love when Hugo just falls to listing every gay ass Greek figure he can think of to make sure we really get it

Haha IT’S SAD :(

Anyway I’ve made this:

Do Les Amis Know What A Woman Is, Ranked

Enjolras - no

Joly - loses half his points because so much of his definition is Pliny the Elder fabulisms

Feuilly - aware of the principle, mostly as pertains to the partition of Poland

Bahorel - sure! dames!

Bossuet - haha oh yes a woman robbed me once

Courfeyrac - would you like to know what a woman is ;)

Prouvaire - yes, the poor creatures

Combeferre - 100% a brother of sisters, at minimum two

Grantaire - all Women are Goddesses

Not Rated: Marius - give him a moment!

[Brickolage]

#Les Mis 2 More Mis #Brickolage #Victor Hugo #Les Miserables #E.M. Forster #Maurice #The Terror