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gloriainalbis · 4 years

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Strangers

Part 1 - Losers (S1E1)

Nathan Young x Reader Words: 4.4k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, drugs Songs: Strangers - The Kinks Bad Reputation - Joan Jett

“So you've been where I've just come From the land that brings losers on”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

As bad days go, you’re having a pretty horrible one when you arrive at the Wertham Community Center. It’s the first of many to come, part of the court-mandated service that goes along with your ASBO. Your dad keeps telling you that you’re lucky the judge had been so lenient and should be grateful that he’s allowing you to stay with him and your stepmum again– even though you have no one to stay with and nowhere else to go. And he’s your dad. “In the future,” you tell him while getting out of the car, “I think I’ll walk.”

Striding through the frosted glass of the front doors, you continue on to the locker rooms to change into the orange jumpsuits you find waiting for you. You choose a locker on the far wall and dump your stuff there. You decide to leave your t-shirt on underneath, zipping the suit up most, but not all, of the way. Finished, you lean back to take a look at your designated companions for the 200 hours to be dispersed across the next few months. One girl has chosen her locker to be in front of the mirror. Her hair is short, curly, and pinned back on the side to form some cute bangs-like fringe. You notice an ankle monitor adorning her lower leg as she strips down to a pink lace pushup bra and panties and steps into her jumpsuit, rolling up the sleeves and bottom cuffs and adding a gold belt around her waist to complete the ensemble. The color of her earrings and bangle bracelets– both large, round, pink, and plastic– match her underwear. She steps back to take a look at herself and smiles. Another girl brushes her hair back into a high and tight ponytail. She looks curvier than the first girl, but just as confident, pairing smoky black eye makeup with shiny, pale pink lip gloss and gold hoop earrings. The guy who’d taken a locker near yours fishes a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips. He looks equal parts cute and odd, tall and lanky with a mop unruly, curly hair framing his face. He wears a red and black checkered shirt and an air of swaggering cockiness radiates from him with a pungency usually reserved for uncommonly offensive odors. He smirks at you slyly. The guy with the locker across from the two girls looks vaguely familiar to you. He has two gold chains, one with a cross, and a grey tank top. His jumpsuit is only zipped up halfway, with the arms tied around his waist. He looks remarkably fit, and, not having much of an affinity for sports, you wonder where you recognize him from. The last person you see in the locker room is shadowy and reserved. His hair is short and neatly combed and his jumpsuit is buttoned up all the way to the very last button. He holds a small, black camera phone in his hand and shifts his gaze between people nervously. As you start to file out, one last person stomps in front of you, looking you up and down as he nearly bowls you over. You grimace as he winks. The first thing you notice about him is the immaculate green flat-brimmed baseball cap. You suspect that this hat and others like it are a large part of his personality. Once you’re all together, a man introducing himself as your probation worker, Tony, leads you outside and has you line up against some railing as he gives what you believe is supposed to be a rousing speech. From left to right is Curtis, Gary, Nathan, you, Kelly, Alisha, and Simon. You would learn their names later, but for the purposes of clarity, we’ll start using them now. Tony paces before you, attempting to assume the macho, fear-inducing demeanor of a boot camp officer. “This is it,” he barks. “This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people, you can really make a difference to people’s lives. That’s what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you’re scum. You have an opportunity to show them they’re wrong.” He has the tone of someone who has given this speech before and is just barely holding onto their faith in its underlying message. The girl to your left, Kelly, looks mildly offended at the word “scum,” as if Tony had been speaking directly to her. “Yeah, but what if they’re right?” Nathan interrupts on your right. He looks around at the rest of you, “No offense, but I’m thinking some people are just born criminals.” You smile to yourself and try to hold back a chuckle as a look of anger flashes over suspected-douchebag-Gary’s eyes and he bursts out with “Are you looking to get stabbed?” “You see my point there?” Nathan asks, turning back to Tony. A phone rings and Alisha answers with a casual “Hey,” while twirling a curl between her manicured fingers. Tony tries to continue, but he’s becoming increasingly exasperated. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past-” “Doin’ my community service,” Alisha speaks to her phone. “Hey!” He tries and fails to catch her attention. “Boring as fuck,” she continues. It was getting harder not to laugh and you glance at Nathan out of the corner of your eye, amused at the part he had to play in the deterioration of Tony’s speech. “Excuse me!” He tries again. “Hello, I’m still talking here.” “What, I thought you’d finished?” She didn’t care, evidently. “You see my lips still moving, that means I’m still talking.” He tries to assert something akin to authority but clearly doesn’t realize how poorly that approach tends to work on rag-tag groups of rebellious young offenders. “Yeah, but you could have been yawning, or chewing,” Nathan points out facetiously in a drawling tone. Tony ignores him, but you are full-on laughing at this point. “End the call! Hang up!” He shouts at Alisha to no avail. “My probation worker,” she explains to the person on the other line. “You all right there, weird kid?” Nathan leans past you to point at Simon, who stood alone at the far end of your lineup. Tony fumed. “Don’t be disgusting. I’ll call you later.” She finally hangs up, looking over at Nathan, who was approaching Gary and making kissing noises at him. “I’ll rip out your throat and shit down your neck,” Gary snaps back. He looks amusingly short in comparison, you now realize. Curtis grimaces and leans away from the touchy ball of anger standing next to him. “I shouldn’t be here, man.” Kelly gapes at his arrogance as Gary starts to scuffle with Nathan, grabbing at his jumpsuit. “We need to work as a team here. Hey, that’s enough!” Tony takes a few steps forward. “Can I move to a different group? This isn’t going to work for me,” Curtis continues, even though Tony is clearly otherwise engaged. You lean back, nearly bumping into Kelly as she steps to Cutis’ indirect insults. “Um… What makes you think that you’re better than us?” “What is that accent?” Nathan comments, drawn out of his conflict by the way her “us” sounded a lot more like “oss” “Is that for real?” Curtis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What, are you tryna’ say something or yeah?” She speaks, the latter half her sentence mostly lost due to her lack of enunciation. “Its- you- that’s just a noise! Are we supposed to be able to understand her?” Nathan exclaims. You shake your head and raise your eyebrows at their audacity and Kelly’s incoherence. She sticks her hand out and flips him off, “Do you understand that?” Things escalate again when Nathan puts an arm around a violently unwilling Gary who responds by grabbing him and preparing to punch. “Hey, pack it in!” Tony lunges forward to separate them “It’s love, man!” Nathan yells. You double over, stepping back to get out of the way. Kelly meets your gaze and smirks at the growing scene before you. Alisha laughs, a high-pitched giggle. Tony stood between them now, pulling Gary further and further away from Nathan, who assumed a boxer’s stance and put up his fists comically. “Do it man! Do it! You’re a prick, man, look at you!” Gary calls, trying to push past Tony. “What the fuck are they doin’?” You say to everyone behind you as Kelly looks between you and Alisha. Simon looks like he’d rather be elsewhere, as does Curtis, but for different reasons. Nathan had taken to punch the air, which only served to further aggravate Gary. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, bruv! He’s takin’ the piss, come here!” Cue the intro music. -- Tony eventually diffuses the conflict between Nathan and Gary and finally leads everyone to some benches by the lake, which you are told to paint white. Paint drips everywhere, from your shoes to the concrete sidewalk, but you hardly care. How different is this from the reason you were here in the first place? You were reprimanded for painting on someone else’s property and were told to instead paint on someone else’s property to pay for it, how is that supposed to work? The only difference is that the first time had been art, and this was largely pointless. They wanted to cover up the graffiti on these benches, but the new paint job would only make future acts of vandalism easier to see. You did it anyway, though, happy to peel off with Nathan and Kelly as Curtis and Alisha and Simon and Gary pair off to the benches on either side of you. You watch as Gary leans down to pick up more paint on his brush, his hat brushing dangerously close to the fresh paint before it finally touches, leaving a stark white smear on the brim. You poke Nathan’s shoulder and point as Gary notices, ripping off his hat in horror and stomping off in a huff, kicking a bucket of paint into the lake and leaving behind a violent burst of white. “Oh, man! There’s paint on my cap, this is bullshit!” “Ooh!” Alisha whistles as he walks past. Everyone turns and stares as he struggles with a shopping cart that’s in his way, kicking it at first before trying and failing to shove it into the lake as well when it simply falls in front of him, still blocking the path. “I know you,” you hear Alisha say to Curtis, perking up due to your own curiosity. “No, you don’t,” he brushes her off. “Yes, I do,” She continues, unphased. “You’re that runner guy. You screwed up big time.” That’s it. You’d seen him years ago at your secondary school’s track meets and races, and later in the news for his accomplishments and subsequent arrest. “You noticed, yeah? Thanks for reminding me.” He grew increasingly annoyed, and it was abundantly clear. Overhearing, Nathan glances up at Kelly and tries to strike up a conversation, “So I’m guessing shoplifting?” She ignores him. “No?” He was about to speak again when she cuts him off, “Don’t act like you know me, ‘cuz you don’t.” “I’m just makin’ conversation!” He motions to you and Kelly, “This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swapping tips. Brainstorming!” He looks at you to continue, but you stay silent, also curious about Kelly’s infraction. You shrug and he looks back at her. “Come on, what did you do?” “This girl called me a slag so I just got into a fight,” she admits, slapping her paintbrush to the bench in annoyance. “Was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?” He jokes. “No, it was at Argos.” “Argos?” you ask, finding the store an odd place to get into fights. “You know what you should’ve done? You should have got one of them little pens and jabbed it in her eye.” He was referring to the pens for filling out the catalog cards at Argos and you smirk at the image, but Kelly just stares at him incredulously. It’s an odd thing to say to someone you barely knew. He turns to look at you, “And you? I need to know what we’re workin’ with here.” “Ah…” You glance between Nathan and Kelly before continuing, “Graffiti, mostly, and throwing a party that bugged my neighbors, breaking the peace.” You had broken the law, technically, but it was nothing compared to punching someone and getting into a fight in the middle of Argos. He raises his eyebrows curiously, “Is there a story behind it or was it just mindless vandalism?” “It was on the wall of my apartment, my landlord saw it when he went to break up a party that my friends were throwing and he said he’d report me.” “Oh, what a wanker!” Nathan exclaims. “The worst part is I lost the apartment and now I’ve gotta live with my dad and stepmum again and it’s a living nightmare.” You don’t want to exaggerate or sound like too much of a cliche, but your stepmother is one of the meanest people you have ever encountered. You could understand it to some extent, as she has two young children and you aren’t the greatest of influences. You call these siblings stepfuck and stepcunt respectively, case in point. “Well, I can sympathize with that. But at least yours is a stepmum, they’re, like, inherently kinda hot, amirite?” You glare at him and begin to understand some of Kelly’s annoyance. He redirects, turning his attention to Simon, who is now painting his bench all alone after Gary’s outburst. “What about you, weird kid? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty-sniffer.” He holds his hands up beside his face, mocking a disgusting sniff of some invisible panties. “I’m not a panty-sniffer,” he responds. “I’m not a pervert.” He tries to return to painting the bench, but Nathan begins walking towards him, pretending to jack off with his paintbrush still in his hand, grunting disgustingly. You sigh and roll your eyes, glancing at Kelly. He could be funny, sure, but you were quickly learning about his tendency to take things too far. Kelly shrugs at you. “I tried to burn someone’s house down,” Simon blurts out to get Nathan to stop. Everyone who’d heard snapped to attention, as arson seems considerably more serious than vandalism or a few punches. “Fire?” Nathan laughs and walks back. Kelly looks up at him, “What did you do?” You were still curious about the fire and arson, but you let the conversation move on regardless. “Me? I was done for eatin’ some pick ‘n’ mix.” “Yeah, right,” you scoff. “Bollocks,” Kelly agrees. “What is goin’ on with this weather,” Nathan muses, distracted, as thunder rolls down from overhead and you quickly noticed the growing dark storm clouds in the sky just across the lake. Huh, odd. That hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. “How did that happen?” you hear behind you, looking around to see Tony returning, an angry look instantly plastered to his face. He points to the overturned paint can, part of Gary’s carnage, and holds his arms up in exasperation. “I mean, you’ve been here five minutes. It’s painting benches. How’d you screw that up? You tell me, because I’ve got no idea.” From out of nowhere, a giant white ball of something smashes down on the car behind Tony, completely caving in the roof and sending the car alarm blaring. Shocked, you jump back and duck amid the various screams and cries of “What the hell was that?” and “Oh, Jesus!” Nathan’s smug grin immediately falls and transforms into fear and wonderment. Alisha shrieks, crying out in a warbling tone, “What’s goin’ on?” Tony turns around slowly in disbelief and gasps, “That’s my car!” “Oh, fuck,” you mutter under your breath. But Nathan isn’t taking it as seriously. “Classic,” he chuckles, thinking it to be some sort of prank. But then another thing falls from the sky into the lake behind you, whizzing past your heads and spraying you, Nathan, and Kelly in an onslaught of lake-water. “Okay, so I’m a little bit freaked out!” he admits. “No fucking shit!” you agree. “What is that?” Alisha asks, turning your attention to the storm Nathan had pointed out just moments ago. It had grown, somehow, turning dark and dangerous as it travels at an unnervingly fast pace towards your group. Simon holds his phone up to film the storm and its effects just as another ball crashes into the dumpster beside him, knocking over the heavy, metal container and spewing ice at him as he ducks and runs from it. More and more ice falls from the sky, huge blocks larger than your head, and you don’t want to think of what could happen if one of them hit you. “Right, let’s get everyone inside,” Tony instructs as more and more of them fall all around you. “Move! Move! Run!” You sprint back to the community center at top speed, holding your head as ice shards rain down on you, pelting and stinging your face and arms. Your heart practically beats out of your chest. One ball of ice pummels into the sidewalk in front of you, breaking a concrete tile. Another falls into a phonebooth, and the glass shatters to the ground around your feet. The storm seems to get thicker as you near the center, and your hair is plastered to your face from the mixture of sweat and water that you were drenched in. You could barely hear Tony yell “Keep going!” over the crashes and booms that fill your ears as you run for your life. Curtis reaches the door first, pulling on the handles and banging on the glass before stepping back and yelling over the din to Tony, “It’s locked! Open it!” Tony groans, “Come on…” and fumbles with the keys. You throw yourself against the wall, as far away as possible from the mega hail storm, and scream, “Just fuckin’ unlock it!” “What is happening?” Kelly shrieks as another massive ball of ice falls onto the pavement beside her. “Open the door, come on!” Nathan yells as Tony grows increasingly frustrated. “I’m finding the right key!” he bellows back “Open the door!” Curtis yells again, and Alisha agreed. “Open the fucking door!” Tony whips around in a burst of anger, “Don’t speak to me like that!” You were about to berate him for his poor priorities when a bright white burst of cold lightning cracks in front of you and sends you flying backward in a chorus of screams. Time slows as you fly through the air and the electricity transforms from a chilling shock to a burning flare, searing and snaking through you as you soar and tumble backward onto the hard pavement. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, from which groans and cries of pain follow. A few remaining snowballs hit the ground around you, but the storm appears to have passed. “I feel really weird,” you hear Kelly say. Your vision is still black, which has you worried until you realize it’s only because your eyes are still closed. You open them and sit up, rubbing the back of your head, which is still screaming in pain. “That’ll be the lightning,” Curtis says to try and explain what just happened. “We should be dead,” Simon points out. “Well, that’s comforting,” you snap back. “A little reassurance might be nice, you know,” Nathan agrees, instead directing his comment to Tony, who is sprawled before the door of the center and has just started to sit up. “‘You’re fine!’ ‘Looking good!’” he elaborates. “Wanker…” Tony groans, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Did he just call me a wanker?” Nathan asks, indignantly glancing at you and everyone else. He snaps his fingers at Tony, “Hey? Hello?” You see a quick look of anger flash across Tony’s face before he grumbles, “Is everyone alright?” “We could have died, you dick,” Alisha adds. “Are you alright?” Kelly asks tentatively as Tony shakes his head and coughs out a growl. “You’re actin’ like a freak.” He ignores her, “Maybe we should call it a day.” -- Tony finally manages to unlock the door, and you return to the locker rooms to gather your things. You feel like you should be annoyed, leaving early only means you’ll have to spend another day here, but you are too exhausted to feel anything. That was probably the closest you’d ever been to death. You can still feel your heart beating, a deep, steady drumbeat, and your lungs ache from the running and adrenaline. Beside you, Nathan closes his locker and leans against it before turning to you, “Do you think we’ll stick together now, bonded by our shared experiences?” “Dunno. I’d rather spend as little time here as possible,” you explain, closing your locker and stepping away to put on your hoodie. “Oh, you’re one of those types, are you?” Nathan smiles. “What type?” You glare at him. “The I’m-too-cool-for-this type.” “No, that’s Curtis,” you quip, knowing that he’d already left the room. “I just happen to not like community service.” Or any of these morons, all the other girls are total slags. “Hey!” Kelly snaps, swinging around to glare at you suddenly. “Oookay?” You turn away awkwardly and leave, you can’t imagine anything you’d said having offended her. Maybe she just really loves community service or something, but that is decidedly not the impression you’ve gotten from her so far. You walk out to the waiting area by the vending machines, where you find Curtis and Simon standing around in heavy silence. Nathan follows after you moments later. “Do we just go, then?” Curtis asks, clearly annoyed. “Where’s the probation worker?” “I think there’s something wrong with him,” Simon speaks up. “It’s like he was having a spasm.” “He was probably just faking it, trying to get some compensation. Cheap bastard,” Nathan scoffs. “I don’t think he was faking it,” Simon insists, looking back down at his phone. “And you know all about being… mental.” Nathan takes a few steps forward as he talks, leering at Simon and lowering his voice. Then he pretends to convulse and yells “Wanker!” You punch him in the shoulder. “Ow, what the hell was that for?” He sticks his head out at you almost comically. You stick your head out back at him. “Stop being such a prick, he might have a point.” Alisha walks in, already looking bored. “Are we waiting for something?” “Probation worker,” Curtis explains. She scrunches up her face in disgust. “I’m not hanging around for that dickhead.” She turns on her heel and leaves, which everyone else seems to take as their cue to leave as well. You can’t be bothered to be the only one waiting around, so you follow suit. Once outside, everyone pretty much goes their separate ways. Nathan, however, trots after you. “What’re you doin’?” You ask. “Thought you looked a little lonely, and, well, I’d like to recommend my own company as recompense.” He motions to himself like he’s all that, which honestly has you snorting to hold back your laughter. “You can’t be serious.” You raise your eyebrows. “Fine, I happen to live along this way, alright? I’m Nathan, by the way.” “Y/n.” You smile at him. “And I’ll have you know that to date, I haven’t had a single complaint.” He says it like you should be impressed or something. “Can’t have complaints if you haven’t been with anybody,” you joke, smirking. His jaw drops in mock surprise, “Oy! I have, too!” He keeps trying to impress upon you the depth of his sexual prowess, offering many stories as proof, all of which have you in stitches. He peels off when you were about halfway home. You say your goodbyes and wave as he walks away, grateful for the company. A few houses down from your own, though, you stop walking, contemplating what to do next. Home doesn’t seem like a particularly fun place to be right now, but it’s not like you have anywhere else to go. It’s still the early afternoon, so it would probably be only your stepmum at home, with your dad at work and your step siblings at school. It’s practically a worst-case scenario, as you doubt she would believe that they let you go early. You wish this day had gone differently. As you’re musing and trying to work up the courage to walk the thirty or so meters left to your front door, the skies begin to darken. You look up to see if a cloud had rolled in overhead, not exactly trusting the weather as of late, but as soon as you do so, it disappears and the sky goes back to normal. You think nothing of it, which is probably a poor choice on your part, but you are too burned out to care. You finally reach the front door, closing it gingerly behind you, but to no avail. “Y/n? Is that you?” You hear from the other room. “Yup.” You stand in the doorway to the kitchen, knowing you need to address this, but desperately wanting to leave. “They let us go early today.” She eyes you quizzically, “Really?” Now here’s the thing, the truth isn’t even remotely believable– There was a freak hail storm and everyone in our group got hit by lightning or something but now we’re all okay and our probation officer did too, he let us go early and then disappeared– so you have to lie. “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the first day. They mostly showed us the ropes, got us started on something, and then let us go.” You wait, holding your breath. “Oh.” She looks disappointed. “I thought you’d be out today.” “Yeah, well I did, too,” you mumble as you walk away, not really caring whether or not she heard. “What’d you say?!” she calls after you. “Nothing!” you yell back as you walk as quickly as possible to your room. Once inside, you sigh and collapse onto your bed. You feel like a teenager again and it’s horrible, being forced to be somewhere where you’re treated like immature crap every day, living at home again, constantly having a row with your stepmum. You hope, but doubt, that the next day will be better.

#misfits #misfits tv #nathan #nathan misfits #nathan young #nathan young x reader #nathan young misfits #nathan young imagine

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jewpacabruhs · 5 years

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bruv im still jus. wow. theres so much to say but. do u kno how good it feels... to be jewish, to accidentally fixate on one eric cartman & love him more than any other fictional character for almost seven years now, and then to see him in a little yarmulke, standing at kyle's side while he recites from the torah? do you know how validating that is?

i gotta get personal for a second here. idk how, but in the last few yrs my relationship with my own jewishness has been deeply influenced and intertwined with south park, as ironic and ridiculous as that sounds. i grew up secular, completely nonpracticing; as a child, i was only ethnically jewish, and saw jews as strictly an ethnicity, and a popularly hated one to boot. and it scared me. ive talked about it before, but as a child hearing about the shoah and about antisemitism, i couldn't understand. i thought it was looks for a while, which confused me, because ive got blonde hair and blue eyes and all my family that got caught up in nazi europe did/do too. i remember thinking as a second grader that i would've been spared for that reason; why didn't a good chunk of my family? but i grew up in a mormon neighborhood, with plenty of other blonde kids, and they stayed away from me like i had a disease. this was before puberty, before my hair got a little frizzier and my nose got a little bigger, when i looked just like any of them. but already, at age 8, i was an outsider. i wasn't one of them and i never would be, and they wanted me to know that.

and then i started to get it. it clicked even more once i got to high school and got called a kike every other day - but prior to high school, you know what i found, and you know what really pushed me towards understanding what being a secular jew in america meant? south park. and as a dumb little sixth grader with no critical thinking skills, you know what shaped my opinions on my own people? south park.

and that's good and bad. good because i do sincerely think kyle broflovski is excellent fictional representation for jewish people, maybe one of the top few ever shown on television. he gets on my nerves at times, but he's good through and through, he's well written and multi-dimensional, he's not a walking stereotype but he still has prominent jewish features that jewish viewers can look at and see in themselves, his morals and viewpoints and beliefs are obviously deeply influenced by judaism, hes deeply proud of his heritage and culture... and that all means a lot to me. and by the amount of jewish sp fans that adore kyle, it means a lot to them too.

the bad thing is, yeah, i can't deny it, during older seasons, cartman's treatment of kyle probably taught a lot of young and dumb viewers how to view jews in real life. have i, as a kyman shipper and cartman stan, justified that within a fictional and narrative context? yes. but it doesn't change the real-world effect; south park, but specifically cartman, since he's the mouthpiece, likely did cause some easily-influenced people to pick up antisemitic beliefs. did this contribute to the rise of the alt-right? debatable, but to some extent, possibly. was that m&t's intention and should south park be canceled and denounced? fuck no, i'll always love it lol, and fuck censorship. but it is something that should be taken into account.

matt and trey clearly regret that, and understand that it's no longer acceptable or fitting or needed in today's sociopolitical climate - or, okay, maybe they don't even regret it; they just understand that when fiction becomes reality, the fictional jackass isn't necessary when there's one right there in real life, sitting in the oval office, yeah? old cartman doesn't deserve or need a voice, not when real, awful people actually have one right now. and m&t are actively trying to change cartman for the better and really, really backpedal on his bigotry, while still doing it in a way that makes sense from a story-telling perspective. it's not a complete uncharacteristic change of character; it's shifting with the times and writing it into the character's arc so that it's a logical and plausible development in cartman's story.

cartman's behavior in the last few seasons is consistent character development. m&t themselves are pushing it, and clearly it's sincere; cartman's not faking. unless they're building up a surprise twist over the last, what, three to four seasons, that he was faking the whole time! woah! if so it better be a damn good pay off, because that's a lot of time invested. though that seems more forward-thinking than sp tends to be. they're intentionally stuck in the short-term, aren't they? plot-wise. but their character development is pretty long-term, and right now, cartman is consistently decent, and if it comes across as faking, it's because cartman's over-dramatic in how he speaks, and trey does that intentionally.

that's a tonal thing, and it's hard to say in a fictional character, but as someone who struggles with empathy myself, empathy and sincerity don't go hand in hand. you can lack empathy while still caring enough to sincerely and wholeheartedly apologize for something and mean that apology. not feeling remorse doesn't mean you can't apologize genuinely; the two don't go hand in hand. you can be mentally ill in any capacity, even a psychopath, and still deeply care about things or people, just not in the way someone else might. so you can headcanon that cartman's still a psycho/sociopath, though right now that's actually kinda going against canon, but don't rain on other's parades if they're happy he's exhibiting healthy growth. besides, and i repeat: what could cartman exploit out of faking sincerity for several seasons? nothing, so why bother? he wouldn't, unless it's literal in-show subconscious growth.

does that mean he's magically developed empathy? no. is it becoming less probable he's a legitimate sociopath/psychopath (while still possibly having better-disguised antisocial tendencies)? yes. does he seem to have better coping or anger management skills? somehow, yes! he seems to be legitimately healthier. does this mean he's no longer accountable for his past misdeeds, and even his present, less-severe ones? of course not! and you can still hate him all you want, but modern cartman is not the same as older cartman, and shouldn't be treated as such. because is this growth? absolutely.

he's clearly healthier, even happier. he's less angry, he's still a little shit but he no longer relies on bigotry or cruelty or anger to get the negative attention he thrives off, rather he gravitates towards being simply annoying. you know why he called ice? pettiness, immaturity, a little bit of spite, and a need for silly revenge. he's being intentionally petty, but going about it in a sly but no longer psychopathic way. less hannibal lector and more, idk, regina george, lol. extremely different on the antagonist scale. and cartman's been both.

and maybe it's personal bias on what type of human is worse within fiction, someone unstable and bizarre with violent tendencies (which is how he's come to be viewed in pop culture & some of the fandom, as a result of eps like scott tenorman must die), versus someone inclined towards pettiness and more silent and, i dunno, social-status-and-pride-driven types of revenge (cartman in general when he's not being particularly awful, tbh)... but i think it'd be pretty universally agreed that the latter is at the very least more tolerable, manageable, and even likeable - and certainly more redeemable. let's put it this way; if cartman continued on the path he was on, he'd be one of those tiki holding fucks, wearing a confederate flag hat, and he'd treat kyle soooo much worse. instead, m&t have turned him into a hypocritical false-woke ignorant dumbass - but that's strongly less problematique than it's counterpart, and it works.

because cartman simply serves a different narrative purpose now. and that's not sloppy writing; it's well-timed evolution of a character that stepped into a pre-9/11, pre-trump, pre-social media world! so much has changed, and south park is reflecting that in its characters, most notably in a character who was stuck in the, what, 1960s with his beliefs? that was fine way back when, but matt&trey are smart dudes - they understand that sometimes things have to change. besides, they love cartman, too. he's their favorite. but they understand that when real people act like him, it's not so comedic or satirical or funny, & they don't want to look at cartman, at their creation who they've invested twenty-two years in, and see the all-too-real hate of modern radical white america.

i think we know enough about matt&trey's social stances these days, and the empathy they've seemed to develop after having kids, to understand that they're no longer in their "apathy is best, everyone is stupid" phase. current south park is left-leaning and admittedly preachy at times, but i wouldn't want it any other way. g-d knows it's better this way than if they'd embraced and decided to appeal to their right-libertarian following instead. cartman's evolved in a progressive and positive way, and it's fucking dope, especially to us cartman stans who so badly want him to be good. and he is good right! he's doing so good!

and i know im up my own ass rn but yall know how much i myself have campaigned for jewish kyman/cartman and how much i just deeply and truly adore it, and to see it actualized in a canon episode to some extent? that meant the world to me. i couldn't believe my eyes. i was tellin lai - that's the most genuine, pure, almost violent happiness ive felt in my soul in years. that was like a straight shot of serotonin to the heart. that simple little scene made me so fucken happy yall dont even know. & theres a lot to be said about the political commentary and plenty of other people are analyzing that, but im a simple jewish kyman & cartman stan and boy ive been fed good fjskfkdkdkfk!!!

#in other news #sickly jew shay had her vision white out at school today and almost fell down the stairs #my grandpa has been given a week to live #AND the anniversary of the most important person in my life's death is approaching #and i turn fucking 19 soon and i always have birthday crisises #so fucken superb!#in happier news family guy airs soon and it's unfortunately still a fixation of mine so im unjustly excited #lissen stewie's worn a yarmulke twice in fg canon and i cried then #i love cartman approximately... 50x more than stewie jus bc of longevity and. nostalgia and favoritism #i was in legitimate hysterics #sp continues to be my light at the end of the tunnel jfkskf #mine #txt #sp spoilers #theres so much here im sorry i ramble sm #i struggle w wordz and usin em ironically

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velvyy · 5 years

Text

Some thoughts.

I think it's very important that we recognize that the shooter's manifesto as something that's part of a trend that exists within the realm of political discourse, and we ought to be careful when singling out a single person. We can simplify it and say that this man was a troll, but at the end of the day, he was what everyone knows he was and was not simply "a troll" and if said individual could only be labeled as a troll, then maybe we should ask ourselves if the little cute personification of "the troll" has contributed to undermining the effects bullying has on people.

It's also important to not fulfill what this man wanted by unintentionally doing what he wanted everyone to do. The idea that certain people have normalized radically conservative ideas isn't something that's hard to acknowledge because it's obviously true, and you don't need him to make that obvious, especially when you realize this incident wasn't even isolated. The issues arise when we point out singular points and state "Oh, this person's named was mentioned! Told you he was shit." And then things become blurry.

That's not to say said individual can't be problematic, but it's a lot better to let this serve as a lesson that the "harmless jokes" were never harmless. The man's actions and what served to inspire those actions are a trend that need to be stopped, and I feel like people who go on the deep end and tell anyone who acknowledges the trends as "giving him what he wants" is counter-intuitive since it fails to solve anything. Only way to get a solution is to acknowledge how society through internet meme culture and it's association with white supremacy creates murderers, and honestly, I wouldn't even say it's specific to meme culture. Simply putting the ideas out there and not taking it seriously whilst letting it fester through the various means it has is what let events like these come into fruition, or at least part of what made it come into fruition. The people who were complacent and being told now that because they refused to listen to what the "SJWS" had to say, are now being really defensive because now their stance is "don't acknowledge anything" despite that not being a viable option. Refusing to look at how white supremacists thrive from lack of criticism and normalizing their ideas through "satire" is why there's so many now. It's not affordable to just say "Oh you're giving him what he wants by acknowledging anything related to the event." And simply saying "pay attention to the victims" doesn't do all it should because... There's people who are sympathetic towards the killer and have anti-immigrant sentiments that reinforces that.

That being said, the media doesn't make it easier by highlighting parts of the situation without giving any real nuance. Their nuance comes down to "Christchurch killer displays white nationalist calling symbol" and of course you as the reader are supposed to go "See! Look at the signs! I told you so." but it's not enough really. A lot of these are really just symptoms of a major illness, and it can't be cured unless we look at the entire picture as a whole. You don't pick out the trends overall and how it contributes to people feeling justified by killing people in Mosques and Synagogues, then you inevitably miss what conditions people to believe certain things, and fail to acknowledge how the media and what you consume in your daily lives plays a big role. How your socioeconomic status plays a role, and how you were brought up. What ideas become normalize and spread to you, and what rhetoric is used to dehumanize someone. Acknowledging the manifesto and what is being stated in it only works efficiently seemingly if you look at it all together, rather than looking at one thing and pointing that out alone. The manifesto itself seemingly is an amalgamation of things that people have pointed out for a while and how certain things being said in media leads to action and ideologically driven crimes because of how extremist thought no longer remains extremist. I mean, fascism for the longest time was considered a taboo subject. Now, it's just viewed as another opinion.

If there's anything to really learn from this though, is that inviting your nazi friend for mimosas really doesn't solve anything in the scheme of the more grand idea of fascism being an attractive ideology to some. These people are self-aware, and none of them had to become what they are now. Better to use your time and energy to deradicalize people who can be deradicalized rather than trying to work with people who thrive on 4chan and praise murderers.

There's a point to be made about acknowledging the victims though because it's obviously important to show the loss of life for those who certainly can sympathize with those individuals. Giving all the attention to the person who committed the crime doesn't look good and works in opposition to what needs to be said in the end, but we still need to acknowledge what inspired the incident in the first place because like I said earlier, we won't be able to prevent this again if we don't. Thoughts and prayers only go so far.

At the end of the day, it's important to acknowledge that these things exist. It's also important to not share them either. Acknowledge these things but don't give the man what he wants. Best way to not give this terrorist what he wants is for people to collectively acknowledge that the conversation we’ve been having about white supremacy has not been constructive. Too many people undermine just how much of an influence media distribution has and how people who are already off the crazy end use the irony and exposure as a recruitment tool. We also have to collectively acknowledge that maybe the way actual fascists operate in a covert yet seemingly obvious manner is having an effect. These things really can’t be ignored, and unfortunately, it seems like only one side of the conversation have been looking at this critically, whilst the other side is either is still on the side of “It’s just a meme bruv. Nobody actually uses memes and shit satire to try and normalize fascist ideology!” despite this being proven time and time again that this is exactly how they operate, or just.. points the finger are people criticizing the lack of genuine conversation surrounding this issue.

#christchurch

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ardentmuse · 6 years

Text

Wild One (Eggsy x Reader)

Kingsman - Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin x fem!Reader

Summary: You are a Statesman agent brought in to assist the Kingsman, but Eggsy would much rather seduce you. If only you’d succumb to his advances.

Wordcount: 1.8k

Warnings: mild cursing, heavy petting, talk of sex

Masterlist

(NOTE: courtesy of google. Credit to original creator)

God, Eggsy had screwed up. Big this time if Harry’s sideways glances were any clear indication. He didn’t mean to offend you and you didn’t seem offended, at least not really. But Harry had trained him to be a proper gentleman, so this slight would not go unnoticed.

When Eggsy had seen you standing outside the Kingsman tailor shop, how could he have guessed you were the biological weapons specialist Tequila requested to come from Statesman for your latest mission. You were just an attractive woman standing on the curb, cheeks colored by the cold, with a look of confusion reading on your face that brought your lips into the most kissable pout. You seemed so out of place compared to the otherwise dull street. Eggsy was not a man to pass up an opportunity to win a date with a breath-taking woman. Plus, he still had ten minutes to kill before his meeting. He might as well help you find your destination and get your number in the meantime.

“‘Ello, Gorgeous,” Eggsy called to you as he approached with confident strides. “Can I help you find something?”

When you turned to meet his eyes, he felt the wind knocked out of his chest. You were perfect. Literal perfection standing before him, lips quickly turning into a precious shy smirk that he initially read as innocence but now realized must have been exacerbation.

“Actually, I’m quite alright, thanks,” you said with a polite nod before you turned back to face down the sidewalk. The man before you was near flawless, so masculine and refined, with a strong jaw and beautiful smile, your two biggest weaknesses. But if he wanted to get your attention, you’d prefer something more direct and real, not flippant words or false chivalry.

“Sweetheart,” Eggsy said before taking a step closer and leaning back into your line of vision, “Are you sure I can’t be of assistance? Anything you need? I’d be happy to escort you to your destination if you’re lost.”

You laughed at his insistence. “Actually, I’m right where I am supposed to be. I’m meeting a friend here.”

“Your friend has a strange taste in meeting spots,” Eggsy said, now moving fully into your view again, hands casually in the pockets of his slacks, drawing attention to the breadth of his shoulders. “Maybe I might be able to show you a better time?”

Before you even had a chance to finish your eye roll, you heard Tequila call to you from the opposite street corner.

“Rosey,” Tequila hollered with near endless enthusiasm, “I’ve missed you!” After a few seconds, he had made his way towards you, picking you up by the waist and hugging you close, twisting you side to side like a beloved childhood toy. You couldn’t help but laugh at your best friend’s exuberant attentions.

“Hey there, T,” you said into his ear as you nuzzled into his shoulder.

Eggsy stood stunned at the scene before him, of the casual intimacy that you shared with his newest colleague. His brain put the pieces together and he was immediately dreading having to work alongside you for the next several weeks.

“Eggsy, this is Rosé, the best biochemist Statesman has to offer and my closest friend in the entire world,” Tequila said, his words dripping with pride as he pulled you into his side.

You blushed at the compliments and nudged Tequila with your shoulder, “I’m the only biochemist Statesman has to offer.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not the best, sugar.” With that, Tequila pulled you into the tailor shop, leaving Eggsy out on the sidewalk still stunned and embarrassed.

When he finally made his way inside, Eggsy found you in the middle of introductions with Harry.

“And you must be Agent Rosé, is that it?” Harry asks, still confused by the Statesman naming system.

“Yes,” you said, taking Harry’s outstretched hand for a proper shake, “But I believe little Galahad here renamed me outside.” You turned to look at the now nervous young man standing at the door. “What was it now? ‘Gorgeous’? Or was it ‘Sweetheart’?”

Eggsy flushed at being called out on his shameless flirting. He felt Harry eyeing him but refused to look his way. He didn’t need to feel anything else. He was already overwhelmed with embarrassment, but also this heat in his chest at your boldness, so quick to retort. No one ever gave him sass back, but you did. You had spirit unlike any girl before you, and he knew he couldn’t move on that easily.

After a few days of prep for this mission to destroy the bio-weapons currently being perfected by an organization based in Morocco, Eggsy still found himself infatuated, but no closer to winning you over. During a particularly dull meeting in the Kingsman board room, Eggsy leaned over to engage Tequila in conversation.

“Bruv, she’s perfect,” he says, flicking his chin across the table to you, attention rapt in the conversation currently being exchanged between Harry and Ginger on the other end of the conference line about security in the dessert estate that served as headquarters for the terrorist organization. “How do I get her to notice me?”

“Don’t bother,” Tequila said under his breath, “I tried for years. Nothing gets her.”

Eggsy sighed, staring at you like some lovesick fool. But in some ways, he was exactly that. Your beauty drew him in, but then you teased him, stood up to him when he tried to treat you just like any other pretty girl. Now every day listening to you discuss your work in detail, lighting up as you impart your knowledge on the group, passion and joy making your face glow with each word, he couldn’t stop finding new and lovely things about you. Your wit, your charm, your adorable little laugh, everything was cute to him. Even that sneeze you let out yesterday when you and him went into the storage closet to find some of Merlin’s communication prototypes was beautiful. If he learned one more new thing about you, he was sure he’d be fully and irrevocably smitten.

Each day, he tried something new. He tried discussing the mission with you and getting your opinions on things outside of regular meetings. He tried asking you about biology and chemistry so you could impart your expertise. He tried anticipating your needs, bringing you coffee before meetings. He even tried giving you a gift in the form of flowers he saw as he walked around the Kingsman grounds. But each thing only earned him a curt thank you before you ran off to join Tequila, laughing and chatting in your easy companionship.

And so before you packed up your things to head with Tequila to Morocco, Eggsy decided he’d do what he’d never done with a woman before you; he’d leave all the flirtatious words behind and just be honest with his feelings.

As you stepped into the dressing room to try on your own Kingsman suit, as you and Tequila needed to match in order for the ruse to work, you felt a hand catch the door and slip in behind you. You instinctively yelped and turned, fists in the air ready to strike.

Eggsy threw his hands up in surrender, “Y/N, it’s just me.”

You lowered your stance, but crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Why did you follow me in here, Eggsy?”

“To tell you that I like you. And that I am sorry for being so forward on the sidewalk when we first met. And for trying so hard to impress you every day since. I guess I’m just not used to a woman not being interested so I’m having a hard time accepting that from you. But I’m going to do better. I just thought you deserved to know,” Eggsy lifted his eyes to meet yours and took a deep breath before turning towards the door.

You interrupted his movement with your words. “Who’s to say I’m not interested?”

Eggsy turned to you and laughed. “You do. Every day when you ignore my advances.”

“Maybe it is the advance I don’t like, not the man making them.” Your cheeks blushed as you smirked at your own boldness.

Eggsy took a step closer to you. “How’d you like me to advance, love? Whatever you say, I’ll do it. You have me completely enchanted.” With those last words, his hands came up to gently hold your wrists to match the pleading of his words.

“This honesty is a good start,” you said as you stepped deeper into his touch.

“And what might be a good second step?” Eggsy whispered as his hands slid up your arms towards your elbows, pulling you so his lips now ghosted over your forehead.

“Maybe ask me on a proper date?”

“Y/N, I would love to get to know you better. Would you join me for dinner tonight?” Eggsy asked as he held your gaze, a smile already on his lips as you had already made your answer clear.

“That sounds nice,” you said, smiling in return. “A kiss also sounds nice, especially since we have all this privacy, don’t you think,” you continued suppressing a laugh at your own mischief.

Eggsy was stunned for a moment by your boldness, but quickly recovered, pulling you now flush to him, whispering his next words directly into your ear, “Rosé, I didn’t take you for such a naughty little vixen.”

“Well, you definitely have a lot to learn about me,” you said before taking his earlobe between your teeth for the briefest of moments, now allowing yourself to fully succumb to your wicked side.

Eggsy growled and quickly moved his mouth to your neck, beginning the delicious kissing and sucking that you knew was going to lead you to do more than was probably appropriate before you’d even had your first date.

Within seconds, the door of the changing room was flung open, Tequila on the other side. He looked shocked at first as you both pulled yourself from your embrace, your neck reddened from where Eggsy practically attacked your pulse point. Tequila just laughed.

“Good job, Eggsy. I knew you’d figure it out.”

Eggsy took a second, “You knew how to get her to like me?”

Tequila chuckled a little once more, “No, man, I already knew she liked you. You just needed to figure out how to tell her. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to help you. If you couldn’t get the balls to be honest, then you didn’t deserve this precious sweetheart.”

Tequila really was the best friend you could hope for. “Thanks, T. He’s taking me out tonight,” you said, beaming. You shuffled past the two men, taking your new clothes with you. “See you tonight, Eggsy. Text me a time and place, yeah?”

Both men’s gazes followed you as you near skipped out the store.

Tequila leaned in to whisper to Eggsy, “Bring some condoms. That girl there is a wild one.”

Eggsy laughed, unable to contain his happiness at the change of events. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa

#eggsy #eggsy unwin #eggsy x reader #eggsy imagine #kingsman #kingsman imagine #kingsman: the secret service #kingsman: the golden circle #reader insert #agent!reader

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