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ill-skillsgard · 4 years

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Henry’s Birthday Weekend - Saturday - His Mistress

Warning: 18+ sex/mentions of sex work/slight degradation

Note: Hi, guys! How are you all holding up during this Bill drought? I’ve been trying to keep myself busy and distracted from the fact that I can’t really go anywhere except the grocery store. Hopefully, this will serve as a distraction for you as it has for me. Reblogs are extremely appreciated in this dry spell, comments make me happy and likes are great too.

This is a direct continuation of Friday Night, if you haven’t read it.

Enjoy!

Read more Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

You knew he would come home livid. That was all right; you had prepared for the storm by dawning a new set underneath your casual clothes. It was an outfit of black lace and gold accents. But he wouldn’t know until he arrived.

At a quarter past eleven, you heard his keys in the lock of the front door and turned on the couch to greet him with an oily smile. There was no use in playing dumb. You would consider it a miracle if one of his colleagues didn’t reveal you as the culprit during their romp to the nearest and classiest strip-joint. And judging by the way he pushed open the door and settled his eyes on you, the truth had surfaced.

“Why?” he asked.

You let the question resonate through the condo before shrugging.

“Why not?”

“Because! That’s why!”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Because. Yes. An excellent reason.”

“I am so angry with you!” Henry belted.

“How angry?”

He tossed his keys onto the kitchen island and looked down at his jacket, huffing as he dusted glitter from the sleeves. “I don’t even think I can look at you right now.”

“But you’re looking at me,” you pointed out.

“And they took my phone!”

“Good. So everything went according to plan.”

“Plan? What plan? You planned on having me kidnapped and dumped into a den of strippers?”

A giggle escaped your lips, and you touched your fingertips to your mouth, feigning a look of innocence. “Oopsy.”

“No! No oopsy! That was completely out of line. I can’t believe you’d do that! And with Frank, nonetheless!”

“Oh, come on, Henry. What’s so bad about getting some boobies pushed up against your face?”

“Everything!” He shouted.

Henry took several laps around the kitchen, fetching himself a shallow glass of water that went down like soot, then turning back toward you and remembering he did not wish to see your evil grin.

“Babe, come on. Didn’t you have any fun? Not even a little?”

“No. That was horrible. Degrading, even! And they wouldn’t let me leave.”

“Degrading? What’s degrading about it?”

Henry opened his arms wide, pointing out the window at the city below. “Someone’s daughter was rubbing her... Her everything all over my lap!”

“What?” You pouted. “You don’t like the idea of someone’s daughter giving you a lap dance?”

He caught the twist in your tone, softened for a breath, then shook his head and reangled his brows to look exceptionally pissed. “Strip clubs are... They’re disgusting.”

“I thought I told them to bring you to Nikki’s? It’s classy!”

“Oh, right, yeah... is it classy for my coworkers to pay a stripper to pour a shot down her ass-crack? I smell like pussy and Jagermeister!”

You covered your mouth before another giggle could set Henry off on a tangent.

“How is this so funny to you? Are you insane?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just thought you might want a little time with your friends for your birthday.”

Henry shook his head, his frown turning into a cocked grin that still illustrated his objection. “No, no! No, no, no. Those guys aren’t my friends. I can barely stand them in a professional sense, so what makes you think I’d want to go to a strip club with them against my will?”

“You’re a big boy. You could have left.”

“No, for your information, I could not. They confiscated my phone and keys!”

The plan had played out exactly how you imagined it would. You stood up and sauntered over to Henry, who was propping himself on the island. He pulled away from you but didn’t go far enough to evade your embrace for long.

“Henry, do you really dislike naked girls or is this about something else?”

“I’m not going to tell you I like naked women. That’s a trap waiting to happen.”

“It’s not a trap,” you clutched his jaw, facing him so your eyes met. “Do you think I’d be offended if you said you are attracted to women?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“Yes, you do.”

“No. I guess not.”

“If you stood right here and said ‘babe, I think naked women are fun to look at,’ what do you think my response would be?”

“I don’t know. You’d probably have some smart-ass thing to say.”

Henry avoided looking at you, so you stood on the tips of your toes and kissed his cheek until his shoulders slumped and his arms relaxed. “I’d say ‘hell yeah. Naked chicks are great’.”

“I still don’t see your point,”

“Do you watch porn?”

“No!” Henry exclaimed.

“Henry,” your voice dropped an octave. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Okay, yes. I’ve watched some.”

“And did you enjoy it?”

He scoffed again and rolled his eyes, a pinkness creeping over the crests of his cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You liked it,” you said. “You really liked it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your face is turning red as a tomato.”

“What does watching porn have to do with tonight?”

“I’m just trying to make a point to you, Henry. I’m not the kind of person who gets upset over things like that. Hell, I watch porn all the time.”

“You do?” He sounded shocked.

“Yes!”

“Wh-why?” He asked.

“Because it’s hot.”

“But,” Henry shook his head again. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s not like I’m watching it and saying, ‘oh, I’d like that guy to fuck me.’ It’s more like ‘hm, I like sex and watching other people have it arouses me.’ It’s not cheating. It’s human nature.”

“But you’re getting off to another person.”

“So if you were to masturbate while thinking of someone in an erotic situation, is that cheating? Even if you’re completely alone in bed?”

“I suppose not.”

“Do you think about me every time you masturbate?” You asked.

“I don’t... Do that,” Henry said.

“You’ve sent me videos of you playing with yourself.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t count! I did that for you.”

You pulled away from him, turned around, and he followed. “You’ve never rubbed one out on your own for the entire time we’ve been together?”

Henry expelled air from his nose and sighed. “Why would I need to when I have you?”

“What about when we’re not together?”

“When we’re apart, I’m working.”

“Henry, I know you’re trying to sound like the virtuous gentleman to me, but you’re preaching to the wrong choir.”

“I know!” he said. “I know you’re a hundred times more progressive than my ex, but you must understand where I’m coming from. I’m just not used to all this kind of stuff being acceptable topics of conversation.”

You took his hand, but instead of hugging him again, you pushed him into the couch, securing him to the cushion with your foot hovering an inch from his groin.

“What that woman did to you is a crime. I’ll never understand how somebody with access to a cock like that would do anything less than worship it every day, but you need to start getting yourself out of that constrictive little bubble of thinking. I’m not Mary. And even if we were from the same generation, I’d still never understand. Sexuality isn’t a sin, just like paying a dancer to dance is not.”

You took a step back and unfastened the first three buttons of your blouse, exposing a hint of lace to Henry’s wandering eyes. His breath caught in his throat, silencing him as he watched.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy. I suppose... If I were to start stripping for you right now, you wouldn’t have a good time.”

“I would!” He defended.

“But you just said it’s degrading. Do you think I’m degrading myself by showing you this lovely bra underneath my top?”

He chewed his bottom lip while the flush of his face remained stagnant. “It would be degrading if there was a pack of howling men at your feet, throwing singles at you.”

“A woman making money by using her natural gifts is anything but degrading to her. You conservatives need to start understanding that.”

“Oh, so now we’re getting political?” Henry asked with a slight smirk.

“No. You’re being quiet, and I’m dancing for you.”

You opened your blouse, revealing the see-through lace and your nipples peeking around embroidered flower petals. Henry’s eyes locked onto your chest, so you scooped your breasts up with both hands, squeezing them together to show him all he was missing.

“If you slipped a bill into my bra right now, would that be disgusting?” You asked.

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“For the record, I didn’t use any of my own money. Frank paid for it all.”

“Oh, I know,” you dismissed. “He insisted.”

“Fucking asshole,” Henry whispered.

“Tell me something, Henry. Do you like me better with my skirt on, or would you prefer I slide it off and show you the rest?”

“Well, now, you have me intrigued. So, of course, I’d say off.”

“But isn’t it so awful of me to take my clothes off for your viewing pleasure?”

“No, but you are evil.”

“And you’re a nasty boy. Under that suit and that cute smile, you’re a raunchy bastard who loves getting his cock wet whenever he can. I’ve seen how easily you get hard. How all I have to do is bend over and slide this skirt off,” you acted out the narration, looking back to make sure Henry was watching. “And by the time I’m out of it, that dick will be hard.”

“To be honest, I was the second you started undoing your blouse.”

“See? You’re just as dirty as anyone else. Maybe even a bit more. Most guys don’t spring one until they see skin. You get hard just from the thought of me stripping for you.”

Henry spread his feet farther apart, awaiting more criticism. You feigned leaning over to kiss him and grabbed the TV remote from the side table, leaving Henry’s lips wanting.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Since you’re such a nasty fuck who likes to go to strip clubs and watch porn, and, being that it’s your birthday weekend, I reckon you deserve a little overstimulation.”

“Oh, yeah?” Henry watched you flick through a few channels until you found an adult network.

His eyes lit up, and all the dreamy swagger fell away from him. When you turned around, Henry affixed to the television like a deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked porn?” You asked, resuming your slow swaying dance.

Henry cracked a smile and shook his head, which only intrigued you more. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.”

He sighed as though reminded of a long-time joke and wiped his eyes. “It’s just... Mary still gets the cable bill in her name. So she’s going to see the charge for the porn.”

“Good,” you said. “Let her see it. And if she gives you shit for it... Tell her how we put it on so we could copy every sex position. Since, you know, it’s your birthday, and you deserve to have that cock treated right.”

He stared at you with a predatory sheen cutting through the amusement on his face. You had removed all your clothes, and stood before him in lace and mesh, waiting for him to lunge at you like a viper. Henry took hold of your wrist, tugging you closer until you had to climb over his lap, and smothered your mouth while you twisted his tie up in your fist.

“Fuck me exactly how he fucks her,” you whispered, tossing a nod back at the TV.

“Right now, he’s practically assaulting her throat. You want me to do that to you?” Henry asked.

“Make it hurt, daddy.”

He grabbed the meat of your arm, tugging you onto the couch so he could stand up to undo his belt. Henry looked at the screen behind him and then back at you once you arranged yourself to kneel on the couch cushions. Realizing the position made you too tall to reach his groin, you slithered onto the floor and waited.

The bulge in Henry’s slacks elated your eyes, and even more so when his hand dove in to produce said swollen appendage. It sprung out of its hiding spot beneath saxx underwear, coming up like a most welcomed visitor in a sea of wool and cashmere. He took a step closer, pressing you against the sofa until you had no choice but to distend your jaw.

Henry grasped your chin with one hand while tugging his cock a few times in the other. “Let’s get this straight. I’m hard because the whole time I was made to watch those girls on stage, I wished they were you. Not because there’s a woman on TV getting her face fucked, but because, in my good Christian way of thinking, as you say, I’m picturing my cock down your throat. You’re the only one I want grinding on my dick. Ever. You got that?” Henry waggled the head against your outstretched tongue until you nodded eagerly. “Good. Now, open up wide. You know Daddy has a big one.”

The perverse choking sounds playing over the speakers faded into nothing but background noise when Henry dipped his cock halfway into your mouth. He didn’t follow along with the film, as he was far too enraptured in stroking your face as you took him to the back of your throat. Henry was right; his manhood required substantial room to accommodate, and at a tilted angle, he slipped past your uvula and blocked your windpipe. But when he came away with his shaft frothy with saliva, his concern for your comfort faded fast.

“Are you sure you weren’t a porn star before we met? You look so good taking a big fat cock in your mouth.”

“I’ll be your porn star, how about that?” You murmured, lips nipping gently around the tip of his glistening cock. “You can film me doing whatever you want. And you don’t even have to pay me.”

Henry shuddered. There was only so much he could take before the auditory overload got to him. Between the moaning in the background and the purposely sloppy noises you made sucking his dick, he felt his balls hitch and the lovely burning sensation in his gut fan out of control. He stopped and guided you back to the couch, threw you onto your stomach, grasped your garter straps and hauled your ass into the air.

“I’ll pay you. Pay you in orgasms,” he said.

“Just give me that cock,” you wiggled your hips. “That’s all I want.”

The woman on television rode her partner backward, howling at the ceiling as she went. Your scene was slightly more tasteful and twice as authentic even in your lingerie and Henry with slacks around his thighs. The condo was modern and well-decorated, and you couldn’t help thinking about how a homemade porn movie might look filmed there.

Henry slammed himself into your wetness and stayed there to enjoy the heat before pulling out and slamming in again. He kept his hands on your hips, only ever trailing away to grope your thighs as he went. A contented sigh spread over your back as he leaned over to wrap you in his arms.

“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again. I don’t care if it’s my birthday. I belong to you, and I have no desire to have my suit dry-cleaned because I can’t get the stripper glitter off it. So I’m going to fuck you hard enough to prove how much I want you, and only you.”

“I know, Henry,” you whispered.

Fingers slid through your hair, gripping the strands and tugging your head back while he pumped into you from behind. Your spine absorbed the shocks while you whimpered out loud.

“No, I don’t think you do. I think you’re a whore, whose only purpose in life is to tease my dick and drive me up the wall. But... You know what?” He asked, standing up on his knees so he could watch his length jamming up your insides. “I love it. I love my nasty whore. I love that as soon as I pull out my cock, you turn into this cum-hungry slut for me. That’s the best gift anyone could get.”

“Better than ten strippers grinding on your lap for free?” You teased.

“I’d rather fuck your pussy than have a hundred naked girls dancing on me. Don’t play dumb. You know what this cunt does to me.”

“Oh, Daddy... You say such dirty things.”

“It’s all for you, baby.”

#henry deaver x mistress #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard smut #castle rock fanfiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #227

“it’s my party, and i’ll die when i want to.”

Where do you hang your towel to dry after showering? On the rack that's on the bathroom door. What kind of mouse pad do you have? It's just a simple black one. Do you brush your hair with a comb or a brush? A comb. If you had a choice to be a unicorn or mermaid which would it be? Probably a unicorn? Idk. I think unicorns are cooler, but I guess being a mermaid (as depicted in the media, however) would be fun. Can you do a hand stand? No. If you were the opposite sex, how would you style your hair? Fuck man emo hair is the way to go don't even try to change my mind. What movie are you embarrassed to admit you’ve watched? None, really. Would you rather spin upside down going 30 miles or drop 400 ft. into water? Well, dropping 400 ft. into water would literally result in your body exploding upon impact with the water; at that height (I'm pretty sure that's high enough, anyway), the water's surface would be like concrete at the velocity you land. Soooo, the former. I'd like to live. What's your favorite shape? "I don’t really have one. I guess the shape of women’s bodies? Like, all kinds of them? Whooooopsie gaysie!" <<<< HAHAHA YOOOOOOOOO THIS. If you were put in a room with nothing except for a pencil and paper, what would you write? Doodle meerkats or write poetry. Do you use deodorant? Does anyone who can afford it and in America not? I'm ignorant to if that's a societal standard in other places in the world. Do you think you’ve grown as a person since this time last year? I honestly don't know. If you could change one physical trait about yourself, what would it be? Can I PLEASE weigh around 120 again??? Have you ever gone out with someone you didn’t like? Well, I didn't not like him. I kinda had a crush on him in high school for a brief period, but we lost communication throughout school. When he asked me out a few years ago, I only agreed to it as a test, I guess. He was a good person, and again, I had liked him. It was a "get to know one another (again)" thing. It was still very, very unlike me, though; I usually date people only when I know I'm into them. Looking back, it really was mostly an "I don't want to hurt his feelings" thing. What are some of your morals? "I wouldn’t say I have any unique morals or things like that. I just…don’t do harm and treat people like I’d want them to treat me." <<<< Pretty much this. I don't see my morals as unordinary. Just hopefully the usual good person. Would you ever take a bullet for your significant other? I wouldn't even fucking hesitate. Do you like your smile, or are you unhappy with it? I hate it. I look high when I smile. My eyes squint too much. If you were starving on a freezing mountain, would you eat your friend? No. Some things aren't worth living after. Out of all your friends, who can you count on the most? Sara. Do people who say they’re depressed bother you? I actually don't think any other survey question I have EVER come across boils my blood like this one. Fuck no they don't. Depression isn't a goddamn choice. Rot the fuck in Hell if depressed people "bother" you. Their mental illness is far, far, far fucking more an inconvenience to the victim than to you. What do you think of hunting? By this point in my animal/wildlife conservation and welfare eruption, I'm perfectly open in calling you a goddamn asshole if you hunt for any reason other than survival. There is something seriously wrong in your head if you get fucking pleasure out of ending a life without reasonable cause. Damn man, this surveys getting me fired up, lmao. White lies aren’t dangerous; true or false? They can be. Do you pretend your crush is with you when you’re home alone? I mean, I can daydream? But I don't actually like, pretend they're present. How many times do you go behind your parents’ back weekly? Never. Do you tend to go for people older or younger than you? Older or the same age. I don't mind if they're slightly younger though, so long as they're of legal age of course. If you became a doctor, would you help your patients kill themselves? I am 110% in favor of assisted suicide when a patient is diagnosed with a terminal malady. Forcing a human being to suffer 'til their inexorable death via the hands of their illness is, to me, torture. I genuinely do think I'm a very compassionate and gentle person, so while it would be ABSOLUTELY heartbreaking and probably scarring, I actually feel I'd be a good option for a doctor euthanizing a qualified patient. Are you good at haunted houses, or do you scream your head off? I haven't been to very many at all, actually. The one I remember that I've attended a few times, I handled just fine. They're fun to me. If you’ve seen it, what did you think of the Twilight movie? I didn't watch it, so I really can't make a fair judgment, but from what I've seen and heard (so take this with a grain of salt), the acting is horrid and the romance is very poorly composed. Would you rather be called babe or darling? The latter. Does the movie Titanic make you cry? Oh Lord, yes. We (surprisingly) watched it during one of my psych hospital stays, and even some of the guys were teary-eyed. What is your favorite thing to do on your phone? Play PokemonGO when I'm in enough of an urban area to be able to lmao. Which Disney princess resembles you the most? *shrugs* Which fairytale seems closest to your life story? Rapunzel being trapped in her home, lmao. What color was your first phone? Hm... I believe it was blue? Was your first phone a flip phone? I don't believe so; it slid upwards. What is your favorite pizza parlor? I'm a basic bitch that finds Domino's to be the bomb diggity. What is an old website that closed down that you miss? Hm... I'm not sure. Well, the site itself didn't close down, the Animal Planet's Meerkat Manor forum and games are dearly missed by me. Have you ever had an embarrassing period story? If so, what happened? Not that I recall, thankfully. What was your worst experience in high school? My depression. How much did your senior prom dress cost you? I don't remember, but I know it wouldn't have been all that expensive. Did you cry at your high school graduation? I only teared up very slightly. Did you cry at your college graduation (if applicable)? N/A, but I'm sure I will out of so much pride and joy. Do your parents try to stop you from chasing your dreams? Hell no. My parents are so, so supportive Who is a former friend that you wish would come back into your life? I miss Megan so, so much. Have you ever been in a serious romantic relationship? Two. What instrument did you play in the marching band? I wasn't in the marching band, but rather the normal one. I played the flute. Who got kicked off of your favorite talent show that you were mad about? Okay, so I remember one year, there was this very quiet, shy, and darkly-styled young man with a love for metal on America's Got Talent. Everyone was expecting a screamo mess, and then he belts out FUCKING BEAUTIFUL opera. Everyone lost it, myself included, and the sweetheart started crying. Sadly, he was eliminated the next round because his nerves got to him, poor thing. Do you own the entire series on DVD of any TV show? If so, what? Meerkat Manor. What show did you always want to be on when you were a kid? None, really. Can you tell the difference between Mary-Kate and Ashley? I think I could as a kid? I haven't seen them in forever and half. Who is your favorite set of twins? *shrugs* What is the grossest thing you have ever vomited up? Idk? Have you ever thrown up in public, in front of someone else? If yes, was it embarrassing? Yes, but I was in kindergarten, so it wasn't too embarrassing. I was just surprised. Did you ever take your dog to school? Whoa... this brought back memories. I believe I did bring Teddy to school one day in elementary school... 5th grade, maybe? I can't recall what the occasion was, though. Name one person you know who had a baby in high school. I don't remember her name. Describe your dream wedding in three words. Autumnal, personal, memorable. What do you hate the most about summer? The fucking heat. What is your favorite thing to do in a swimming pool? Just swim around. Which part of your body is the most muscular? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA BOY I couldn't even GUESS. My legs are recovering from muscle atrophy, so OBVIOUSLY not them. My arms aren't impressive. Neither is my stomach at all. I honestly don't know. What was the last race you ran called? Brittany??????????????? running a?????????????????? r a c e??????????????????????????????? Which major holiday is closest to your birthday? Valentine's Day. Do you find kite flying boring? I haven't done that since I was a kid, but BOY did I LOOOOOVE it back then! I'd probably still find it kinda fun. What is your favorite musical? Musicals make me cringe. Have you ever seen a Broadway show? No. What is the best summer camp you have ever been to? Well, I remember as a kid, one of the vacation Bible schools I went to was pretty fun. It was Hawaiian-themed. Have you ever ran a cash register? Never. Ever. Fucking. Again. Do you like the feeling in your stomach on a big drop on a roller coaster? I've never been on one, but I hate even just the sensation you get when the elevator goes up or down. I immediately get dizzy and nauseous. It's so bad that I even experience this in video games if you have to jump from a large height. What is your favorite roller coaster? N/A How and when were you baptized, if applicable? Hell if I remember. Have you been baptized more than once? No. Would you rather paint or carve a pumpkin? Carve it. Have you decorated for fall yet this year? No. Do you own pumpkin earrings? No, but now I want some. That sounds so cute. Have you ever asked someone to be your Valentine? I mean, not really? I've had s/os on Valentine's Days, so being each other's is kinda just... a given. What was your favorite video game to play with your brother? My older half-bro, when he lived with us anyway, used to play this mercenary game (I don't remember the name) that I LOVED watching him play. Idk why. Really when he played anything I would sit right beside him and watch. What computer game did you used to play all the time? Amazon Trail 3 was my cocaine, hunny. Do you like the name Ellery? I guess it's kinda cute... but it reminds me of celery. Do you find cemeteries pretty? "Pretty" isn't the word I'd use, but I find them aesthetically pleasing. They're more like... mysterious, enchanting. Does your phone screen freeze a lot? Often enough... Who is the better cook in your household? My mom. What by your definition is the naughtiest thing you have done? I guess the time I was entirely naked and him just in boxers going the fuck at each other on the chaise in the living room when we were home alone one night. Or maybe when we "slept" in my sister's room one night (can't remember exactly why) and we just fooled around the entire night instead. He came on her bed multiple times, hence why I guess it fits "naughtiest." (Yes, yes, he cleaned it up, calm down.) I honestly haven't done anything too wild. What is one thing you’d never want your parents to find out? The Joel situation I've told before. Which room of your house are you in? Mine. How many blankets do you sleep under? One thick one. I miss my school lunch menu.. what’s the fave thing on yours? Okay real talk, my high school chicken sandwiches were The Good Shit. Do you like your best friend's parents? Could you even tell me their names? I love them, and I could, but it's not my business to share that online. Anything silly that annoys you? (I hate hearing nails being clipped) I really hate people going in/out the opposite door. Why are you where you are right now? I absolutely have to take a mental health day from school, so I'm home in my room. Did you used to watch Blues Clues? Of course. What's your opinion on people wearing high heels to school? I feel very sorry for your feet, aha. But I don't care if you do, go for it. What difficulty do you play on Guitar Hero? I used to play like, everything on expert, but now if I do, I can barely manage expert on most and have to do hard. Do you stutter when you get nervous? BADLY. You’re at the grocery store, what 3 fruits do you get? Strawberries, apples, grapes. If you died next week, what would be the cause of death? Sleep deprivation lmao. Love these night terrors + nightmares. What do you think about dating websites? Whatever. I definitely think there are better, safer ways, but it's not a huge deal. Just go into it with a genuine heart and mind of wanting to find love. There's nothing wrong with wanting a partner to enjoy life with. Do you wear contacts or glasses? I wear glasses. I wish I could do contacts, but noooo sir. I had them very briefly again earlier this year, but I just couldn't; all I could do was feel them there, mainly the weighted one in my left eye because my vision is so bad in it. They just bugged me too much. What is one memory you have from elementary school? Making our own butter in 4th grade came to me first. We walked through school singing this annoying song while we shook our jars. Do you own a pair of converses? A few. How many fridges are in your house? One. Are you easy to get along with? I hope so, but idk. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? She's over 800 miles away lmao. What kind of people are you attracted to? Platonically or romantically? Well, with either, I'm drawn to compassion, a tranquil mind, empathy, gentleness, romance if we're talking romantic attraction, a deep thinker, wisdom, creativity, uniqueness/individuality, just, funny, thoughtful, charitable, concerned with nature/love and kindness to animals, intelligence... There's a lot. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? I don't see why I wouldn't be. Do you like it when people play with your hair? My hair's too short now for that. It'd feel weird. I used to like it, though. Do you think there is life on other planets? Probably. Do you like bubble baths? I don't enjoy baths period. Who are you most comfortable around? My mom, or Sara. Depends on the subject matter. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? No. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? I wouldn't. I'm strictly monogamous and to me would feel like cheating. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yeah. What do you say during awkward silences? Nothing, but I panic inside. What are you paranoid about? My loved ones secretly hating me or leaving me, being raped, people thinking I'm weird (and not in a good way), stuff like that. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? I don't think so. Been suspended/expelled? For what? No. Been arrested? For what? No. Craving something? What? Nothing. What color are your towels? They're varied. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two. Favorite animal? MEERKATS. Opossums are #2. Favorite character from Mean Girls? I don't remember the characters at all. Favorite actress? Betty White. Favorite actor? BITCH Markiplier, lmao. But okay if you mean a "real" actor, probably Johnny Depp. Last time you were in an elevator? Thursday when I had to go upstairs to my Writing class. It's absolutely humiliating, but I can't make it up two flights of stairs due to my muscle atrophy without people asking if I'm okay. Even going down is dangerous for me because my legs ABSOLUTELY QUAKE and I have to go extremely slow. I go down via stairs anyway though for practice. I'm going to fall one day, I know it. I’m sure we all know what your name is… so, tell us what your boss’ name is? N/A Do you actually read your friend’s surveys, or do you just copy paste them and fill them out yourself? Yes; I love learning about my friends. When you were a kid, which comic strip was your favorite? I didn't care for them. Would you feel guilty about cheating on your taxes if you got away with it? Well yeah. Have you ever thought about getting your lip pierced? It is pierced. What woke you up this morning? A nightmare that resulted in me screaming almost the loudest I ever have in my life. My throat hurt for quite a while. What was your favorite sweet as a child? Reese's cups. Still are. Do you own a lunch box? Yeah. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once, oops. If there was a fire, what would you take with you? The very first thing I'd grab would be Teddy, then Roman, Venus, and then my laptop, probably. How many people have the same middle name as you? The majority of the white female population lmao. Does your house have a white picket fence? The backyard does. Have you ever needed to call the police? 911 when we thought my mom was having a heart attack. What are you best at? Writing, I guess.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Wonder Twins #7

I didn't realize the Wonder Twins were Gen X.

Oh yeah! Zan had just saved the world by stopping a plot that was going to save the world.

I just realized I hadn't scanned the cover yet and as I did, I noticed the Wonder Twins fist/star emblem marks a striking resemblance to a goat.se riff. Zan and Jayna get taken off of monitor duty at the Hall of Justice now that they've stopped the League of Annoyance. You'd think that doing a good job would get you a promotion but those of use who have always done spectacularly good jobs know better. While everybody else works down to the lowest common denominator (because who wants to do more work than the next guy?! A fool, that's who!), good workers just put on blinders and do the job they were hired for until the time they're being paid for is up. Sure, that sounds like I'm describing a sucker who's been completely manipulated by the man! But I'm also describing a person who fulfills their end of whatever bargain they've agreed to! So when I say Zan and Jayna wind up giving tours at the Hall of Justice because they were too good at catching criminals, you'll understand why I went into the previous digression. Maybe? I don't know. Have you seen what state the U.S. is in?! Why are you picking apart my writing style?! Mark Russell takes a few pages to shit all over hockey fans and now I hate Mark Russell with a burning passion. Even though I'd hardly call myself a hockey fan. I mean, I loved NHL '93 (unless it was '92 (or maybe '94?)) and I loved going to San Jose Sharks games when I was still living in the Bay Area (plus my friend worked equipment for the Sharks and would get us free tickets). But it's not like I follow it much anymore. I just like the feeling of being angry at somebody for writing a satirical critique of sports fans rioting because they're so happy that their team won. Although why would I be angry when I've never done that nor think Russell's wrong in his pointed and humorous critique?! Oh, who cares why! Being angry is just more fun! Oh shit! I finally understand people's attraction to Fox News! I just watched a YouTube clip of somebody's Jeremy Roenick highlights from NHL '94 set to the song "More Than a Feeling" and it was pretty awesome. Also, that was definitely the one we played nonstop back in 1993 and 94 and maybe even into 95. Roenick unstoppable down with the puck while Sharks players lay splayed out on their back all across the ice. To stop the riot, Superman calls in Repulso! He's a guy whose super power is super stink and he's kept in a locked room with a bare table and a microwave and nobody wants to be his friend because he smells like a garbage dumb that vomited on top of the diarrhea it shit out while standing on its head so the stanky muck ran down his body absorbing all of his body odor and then somebody cut up a durian and tossed it in the mix.

Superman is a dick. Get this guy some friends with no sense of smell. Or at the very least, an Xbox Gold account.

After the hockey riots, some "the end of the world" riots take place because Zan and Jayna screw up something or other. Basically what that means is that Repulso gets to be let out of his airtight containment unit again! He's a pretty optimistic guy for being sealed away by Superman (which is just Superman's way! Is somebody a problem? No problem! Put them in the Phantom Zone!). He's so happy and not bitter about his living arrangements that I feel like Zan and Jayna had better figure out a way to give him a better life before this issue ends. Because if Mark Russell fails this character he created before this issue is over and I have to face reality after snot crying about a fictional person, I'm going to be pretty upset when I continue to buy Mark Russell comic books because what other choice do I have? Am I going to stop reading DC's best written comic books because Mark Russell betrayed poor Repulso? Of course not! What am I? A person with integrity?! Repulso winds up getting his ass beat by rioters as Repulso's handlers flee the chaotic "end of the world" downtown riot scene. Luckily the Wonder Twins are headed downtown to save his life and maybe become his friend or something? Please? After Zan and Jayna save Repulso, Jayna goes to Superman to tell him everything sucks. He gives her a big speech about how being a hero is lonely work because you don't always get to fuck the hot chick at your secret identity's workplace and also fuck an Amazon warrior while also getting to fuck anybody at all whose initials are "L.L." and also have a best friend who is the coolest guy in the world with a butler who makes the best pancakes. Sometimes you're a fat jerk who smells who even Superman won't fucking give the time of day because Superman has this speech about how being a hero is lonely and that's a good thing so you should embrace your loneliness because who wants to put up with your super stink, fatty?

Jayna is a way better hero than Superman. At least in this comic book that's all about her and not Superman so of course she's going to outshine him!

Oh yeah, the ant in the above picture is Jayna. It can't smell. Wonder Twins #7 Rating: A+. I should probably be less cynical when reading Mark Russell comic books because he's as earnest and serious as he can be while also providing lots of jokes. He takes writing seriously because what else is there? If your message isn't going to matter, why bother? (is his philosophy. I think. It's not my philosophy! I don't think? Maybe it is! I just write things that matter in a much different way than Mark Russell writes things that matter.) I should probably read Superman's speech and be inspired by the idea that you don't do good because you want adulation; you do good because it's the right thing to do, even if the entire world thinks you're an asshole for doing it. Even if all of the other superheroes think you're a stinky fuck and only keep you around to use as a tool to oppress and manipulate the masses without having to use logic and reason on them (because, let's face it, the people doing terrible things don't understand logic and reason. Or they're do but they're just selfish and greedy so nothing is going to reach them anyway (which maybe is part of Superman's message?)), you're still a hero at the end of the day. You can still be proud of your stinky self. And even if the life is lonely, you should remain positive and upbeat because Superman really doesn't want to be reminded that you exist every time you complain about the lack of reasonable living conditions. Being a hero is a state of mind, says the guy who also looks great and is invulnerable and has the best wife and a cool son and doesn't have to fear death! So inspiring!

#Wonder Twins #Mark Russell #Stephen Byrne #DC Comics #DC

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regular-lord-reckoner · 5 years

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So, I just heard about a situation I need to like...rant about for a second because my blood is fucking boiling

I was watching drama YouTube (it’s a not-so-guilty secret that I enjoy that type of shit, I’m a Scorpio what can I say?) and I just watched a video about a recent concert at the O2.

It was Hayley Kiyoko and basically like...she kept stopping her songs and even starting over because she wanted everyone to stand up, including the people up in the balcony and the security kept telling them to sit down.

Sounds like a non-issue, right? Sounds like she was just trying to be good to her fans and shit, right?

The problem was...the balcony section had A LOT of disabled people in it and beforehand they could see perfectly fine and were enjoying themselves, but the second she told everyone to stand up like...game over. They couldn’t see shit.

And like...I get it, man. I get that people who don’t have disabilities will literally just....never understand this and that’s fine, I don’t expect anyone to.

But man oh MAN does it feel like shit.

I’ve been in that situation so many times where like...I just cannot stand up, I know I don’t have the energy and it’s already breaking my heart enough that I can’t and then my view gets blocked by people standing and you don’t want to be a dick and rain on anyone’s parade, especially when asking someone to move or sit down usually just gets you dirty looks and sneers because I think people honestly think that like...disabled people don’t go to places like that ??

And granted, a lot of us don’t specifically for reasons like this, because we don’t want to cause anyone problems or be a wet blanket or need even more special accommodations. We already know we don’t belong and we’re not wanted, but sometimes, crazily enough, we like to have fun just like everyone else.

I’ve already gone through the processes of grief just accepting that I’m pretty sure my days of standing close to stages is over. When I was younger I could kiiind of manage it. It was tough and I’d have to pretty much be carried out by whoever I came with and then felt drained for days, but anymore it’s just really hard so I either have to have it be somewhere that has seating or somewhere I know I can at least hug a wall and sit down if I need to and that fucking SUCKS. I HATE that. I hate it so fucking much and I watched a video of someone’s footage from the concert the moment they weren’t able to see and it’s absolutely heart breaking.

The fact of the matter is, the security were trying to help those people so they could still see. They were keeping everyone in their seats to be NICE (and also because it’s apparently just...not safe to have a bunch of people enjoying a concert and probably drinking to be standing up and dancing around a balcony barrier but ANYWAY)

Because of the noise and because it’s a fucking concert, security were having to wave their lights at people to get their attention and I guess when Hayley saw that (combined with the fact that this evil security team kept making people sit down) she pitched a fit on stage and got the whole crowd booing the security guards and calling them assholes and shit.

And then in just...the most upsetting thing I’ve seen yet, one person manages to make her way to the front of the balcony, holding their fucking walking aid, and tries to tell Hayley that there’s disabled people in the back and that’s why security wanted everyone to sit down and she just...doesn’t seem to give a fuck

And later she “apologizes” for it by putting out some bullshit statement about how she just wanted everyone to have a good time and she didn’t really know the whole situation, blah blah blah but like...doesn’t just straight up say, “Hey, sorry to all my disabled fans for the misunderstanding, I’ll do better in the future to make sure you guys are able to see” or something like that. Nope just...Heeeey man, I wanted there to be good vibes, sorry for misreading the energy~

Fuck ALL the way off.

I know this probably isn’t that big of a deal, but it just...really hit me right where it hurt.

A few years back I went to see AFI for like the billionth time and...here again, I used to be capable of just being in the crowd like normal, their shows that I’ve been too haven’t been like...stadium shows, by any means, it’s just kind of been a big room with a lot of people and a stage and it’s kinda nice because it’s so close, really.

But I thought I’d at least try for as long as I could to be where I usually am, sort of in the middle with a good view of the stage, but not so close I’d be constantly getting crushed

I wanna say they had two opening acts that show, which isn’t uncommon for them at least the times I’ve seen them, but I realized pretty early on I should try to conserve my energy as much as possible so I figured in between sets I’d just...sit on the ground for a minute.

I tried to take up as little space as possible, but mind you like...this was the time people were leaving to go to the bathroom or go get drinks or go do whatever so it’s not like we were all in our perfect places where we planned on being once the next thing started up.

I had every intention of standing back up once the lights went out again, I just...needed a moment and I didn’t want to lose my place in the crowd completely, so I just sat where I was. Figured it wouldn’t be a huge deal, but...much like Hayley, a group of girls started yelling at me to stand up and I think maybe at first they thought they were just...being cute, I guess? Like, “Hey, it’s a concert, stand up!” and shit, but...no, man I’m good.

I tried to just kind of wave it off and ignore it, but they kept on so I snapped and said something to the effect of, “I’m sitting down for a second because I’m disabled, is that okay with you?!” I think.

Which...y’know, was fucking HILARIOUS, apparently. I honestly don’t even remember what all else they said, I know they kept taunting me and being assholes and there was something in there about like...was I just gonna have a picnic there on the floor and because they were just the worst kind of people they had to push past not just me, but a bunch of other people to be even closer and as they stepped over me like the piece of trash I am, apparently, one of them pretended to offer me a picnic basket and they just kept laughing about it.

Like...I’ve had people have some pretty shitty reactions to me before and have dealt with discrimination, but there’s something soul-crushing about being in a place you thought was somehow apart from all of that and being treated like that.

I know music’s a safe haven for a lot of people and a source of comfort and even a life support and that’s no different for people with disabilities. To go somewhere that you already felt out of place at to begin with because you know you’re not able to enjoy this experience the same was as everyone else is already hard enough, but on top of that to be treated like complete dog shit is just...really upsetting.

And like, at least in my case it was just other concert goers being mean to me. I can’t imagine how shitty I’d have felt if Davey Havok was the one standing on stage ring leading that shit, regardless of what he thought was happening and then if on TOP of that he got on social media later and couldn’t even apologize for it?

I dunno, man.

Put yourself in the shoes of someone who just wanted to enjoy a concert and is now having the entire crowd boo and scream insults at the only people who were looking out for your best interest.

I dunno if other disabled people get this feeling, but...I want to VANISH on the spot whenever it’s called to attention that I need something. Asking for help is HARD. Having to need something is DIFFICULT.

And I know to anyone else that sounds silly and just like regular-old-anxiety issues but it’s...it’s not. I really don’t know how to articulate it or put it into words and maybe it is just me, but like...I dunno.

Point is, it’s just...hard to be singled out for needing something, even if it’s something you need to just function, and I can’t imagine an entire crowd of people like...yelling in my direction all because some people were trying to look out for me.

Apparently someone even started having a panic attack up in the balcony because of it all and the fact that there are still people online treating this like...Hero Hayley Kiyoko bravely stood up for her fans when security told them to sit down!!! just really fucking sucks.

Just...real bad shit all around and I’m sure eventually the whole story will get out and I hope maybe if nothing else people will just...kinda think next time? Maybe be a little more considerate?

I get that you can’t possibility anticipate every person’s individuals needs in any given situation, especially if it’s something outside of your norm and not something you personally have to experience or deal with, but like...fuck, man. I just feel so bad after watching that.

#cw ableism //////

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

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A Light in the Dark (Chapter 83)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so sorry it took me this ridiculously long to post this chapter. After this awful 5H divorce, I lost my inspiration to write Camren fics, it was brutal. When things slowly started to settle, I tried to write again, because this story became too important to me to not finish it. I had, like, over six versions of this chapter, but nothing seemed right until I finally decided on this one. I doubt anyone of you even remember what this story is even about after this long hiatus, but yeah. Sorry, guys!

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The annual Christmas Eve party of her parents had not changed a bit since the last time she had been forced to attend. It was as dreadful as ever. Camila let her eyes wander over the crowd of men in black tuxedos and women in various elegant dresses. It were always the same kind of people. They came from church, law enforcement or the hospital. It was the most boring evening of the year – by far.

Camila took a sip from the flute glass in her hand and fought the urge to scream out her frustrations. Not only were her shoes slowly but surely killing her, but constantly having to fake a smile was starting to strain her facial muscles. It was a Christmas miracle that her smile did not look like a grimace. She really should have pretended to have fallen ill instead of coming.

But as her gaze settled on her little sister next to some other unfortunate children a few feet away, that thought disappeared as fast as it had come. No, nothing would have made her leave Sofi again. Especially not with those people. It was bad enough that Sofi had had to endure one of those parties on her own last year.

These annual parties were not a normal Christmas get-together with colleagues and friends. Tonight was all about making connections and passing judgment upon others. The conversation topics usually varied between crime rates, upcoming cases, complicated surgeries, politics, sports, the judicial system, and – of course – gossip.

And as luck would have it, tonight the majority of guests thought that she was the most interesting topic of the evening. Where had she been last year? What was she doing? Were those awful rumors true? And weren’t her parents wonderful with their unwavering support despite her controversial lifestyle? How loved she must be feeling! They were truly remarkable human beings! Saints even!

Accustomed to play the perfect daughter, Camila had answered every question as politely and patiently as possible. Even the most ridiculous and offensive ones. Would it wonder anyone that her alcohol-free champagne was in fact not free of alcohol at all? Or that she was already on her fourth glass? Probably not. Was it stupid to drink alcohol in a room full of law enforcement people? Not to mention to mix it with her medication? Camila glanced towards the chief of police on the other side of the room and took another sip. Probably yes. Did she care? Not really.

Not that her girlfriend knew this little detail, of course. Lauren was already nervous enough as it was.

“You were right,” Lauren muttered beside her and sighed. “I can’t believe the amount of weird comments and looks we have been receiving about our relationship. What is wrong with these people?”

“They’re bored. The last time they saw a lesbian couple was probably Ellen and Portia on TV or something.”

“That’s no excuse. Do you see that guy over there? Near the buffet? White hair, neatly trimmed beard, a blonde woman on his arm that I hope is only his granddaughter? He’s been glaring at us since we got here!” Lauren frowned. “How rude can someone be?! Mind your own damn business, you bigoted moron. I’m not judging you either.”

Following Lauren’s directions, Camila immediately spotted the man. It was not difficult to do so. He was one of the few people who openly showed their utmost contempt towards them. Most other homophobic guests had either kept their opinions to themselves or only talked about them behind their backs. Or gave them some backhanded compliments. As if they would not understand the true meaning behind them or notice the whispers and quickly averted eyes whenever they caught them staring. And these people were supposed to be intelligent? Camila honestly doubted that.

“You mean Judge Anderson?” she asked.

Lauren drew in a sharp breath. “Judge?! He’s a judge?”

“He’s one of the most conservative judges here in Miami, so it’s not a wonder he’s been glaring at us. He’s a homophobic asshole,” Camila replied rather loudly, not seeing the need to lower her voice for the other guests. It was not like it was a secret anyway. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a few people stiffening slightly and smirked. Maybe this party had the potential to become better after all. Even though her girlfriend kept giving her those suspicious looks as if she tried to figure out why she was more blunt than usual. But she would deal with that later. “Or a devoted Christian, as he likes to call it. And that woman next to him is his third… no, I think his fourth wife. They get younger each time.”

The scandalized looks the closest guests were throwing her way only contributed in lifting Camila’s mood. This was fun! Although it was maybe not that great for the perfect daughter image she had been trying to portray for the last three hours. Oh well, people couldn’t have everything.

“A devoted –? Him? Yeah, right,” Lauren muttered darkly. “What a fucking joke. Please tell me he’s got nothing to do with the trial. If he’s the judge –”

“He’s not. My father wouldn’t have invited them, if that was the case. It wouldn’t look good, if you know what I mean.”

“Why did he even invite him in the first place?”

Camila shrugged disinterested. She had given up on understanding the world her father lived in. It had brought her too many headaches. “Politics. And he used to be his mentor – before he became a judge, of course.”

Lauren reeled back. “Wait.That…that person used to be the state’s attorney?! He’s openly homophobic! How can he even be a judge? He’s probably biased as hell!”

She couldn’t stop herself from chuckling at her girlfriend and shook her head in amusement. No matter how intelligent Lauren was, times like these truly showed the idealism and naivety she still possessed. It was kind of cute, if she was being honest. Lauren wanted to become a lawyer to fight injustice, but somehow she overlooked quite a few things. “You act as if the system is free of racism, sexism, homophobia and the like.”

“He swore an oath!”

Camila sighed. It would be amazing if everything was as simple as Lauren tried to make it out to be. “It’s been years since he was the state’s attorney – almost two decades, if I remember correctly. For the most part of Judge Anderson’s life homophobia was okay. He was doing his job when he prosecuted people like us, Lauren. The Supreme Court only ruled in 2003 that sodomy laws for same-sex couples were unconstitutional and yet Florida still has them on the books. Granted, officially they’re against unnatural and lascivious acts, but it’s up for interpretation whether it concerns same-sex couples and they definitely used it legally against us. It was legal to discriminate others. Hell, it still is, if we’re honest about it. It’s still legal to send minors to those awful conversion therapies. My own father would have sent me to that if I had come out sooner and even as an adult he still asked me to do it.”

“But…” Lauren frowned and looked from her to the judge. “It’s not fair.”

“Unfortunately life is rarely fair. I thought you wanted to become a lawyer to fight things like that?” Seeing Lauren’s frustration plain on her face, Camila looked at her glass. Maybe she should have offered Lauren some too. It made everything seem less bad. When she had arrived, her stomach had churned, she had tensed up at the thought of even setting foot in this place where it had happened. After a few glasses, however – well, who cared what any of those idiots thought anyway? “Not many things are okay in this country or in the world, you know that. Him having a position like that is only a minor one.”

“I would be careful with your words, Ms Cabello, considering your surroundings,” a deep voice behind them suddenly spoke up, causing Camila to whirl around to face the man that had sneaked up on them. “Publicly insulting judges – no matter how true your words might be – is not the smartest thing to do.”

Behind them stood a dark-skinned man in his mid-forties, dark brown almost black eyes were shining with a warmth that Camila had neither anticipated nor seen in any of the other guests tonight. As he regarded them, the genuine smile on his lips never wavered – not even when his eyes landed on their intertwined hands.

“My name is Michael Sanchez. I had the overall pleasure to work with your father on some cases,” he introduced himself after a short awkward pause. “I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation with the lovely lady to your left. Your girlfriend, I assume?”

“I…” Camila trailed off, unsure how to proceed. He obviously seemed to know her, but she was convinced she had never seen him in her entire life. “Nice to meet you, sir. And, uh, yes. This is Lauren Jauregui.”

“My pleasure,” he said charmingly and bowed his head. “Your mother wanted to introduce us, but it seems I have lost her somewhere between the cocktail bar and the buffet. So when I saw you standing over here, I couldn’t help but take the opportunity to do it myself.”

He knew her mother as well? And her mother wanted to introduce him to her? This was getting more mysterious by the second. If he was only a colleague of her father, he would have been the one to handle the introductions. Not her mother. “How exactly –”

Another man’s voice interrupted her before she was able to kill her curiosity. “Mike, there you are! Why do you always disappear just like that?! You’re worse than Waldo!”

Camila furrowed her brow as a very familiar man walked up to Mr Sanchez, her mother not far behind him. It was certainly not that surprising that hewas here. She almost expected to run into him this evening. But – Camila threw a puzzled look from him to Mr Sanchez – what a weird coincidence.

Or maybe it was no coincidence at all.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as Mr Sanchez suddenly leaned in and gave the newcomer a peck on the lips.

Maybe four glasses of champagne had been too much. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of this. She was clearly drunk and hallucinating. Was it her medication that did not mix well with alcohol? There was just no other way that her doctor was kissing a man who worked with her father, right in front of her mother.

Camila numbly shook her head and pinched herself, desperately trying to become sober, but it was no use. There they were, holding hands, smiling at each other like only couples in love could, and her mother was still standing next to them, acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Her mind raced as her eyes darted between the three people in front of her that were now chatting like old friends. There was no way that her mother had been friends with an openly gay person, a gay man, while acting the way she did after her own daughter’s coming out. No, that was just impossible. She was losing her sanity. Maybe she was having a mental breakdown. Or she was asleep and everything was a dream. But wasn’t it impossible to feel pain in dreams? And had she not just pinched herself? The stinging ache in her arm had definitely been real. No, they probably only had grown closer when her mother started to change her view on homosexuality. That had to be it. Maybe she hadn’t even known about his sexual orientation for a long time. She doubted that many people were telling others at their workplace about delicate things like that.

“Dr Sanchez, it’s so nice to see you again,” Lauren said, successfully snapping Camila out of her thoughts. She was stunned to see that her girlfriend was not as shocked as her over the latest crazy development. “Thank you so much for everything you did –”

He stopped her with a wave of his hand. “You don’t have to thank me. Seeing Ms Cabello happy and healthy is more than enough. I see my husband introduced himself already?”

Husband?! Camila knew she shouldn’t be that surprised considering they carried the same last name, but… this was her mother’s friend. Someone she had worked with for years. With whom she apparently got along very well. And he was married to another man. How crazy was that?

She took a deep breath. “You’re…?”

“Married?” Michael joked. “Yes, I know, hard to believe. But I took pity on him.”

“You’re lucky to have me!”

“Of course, honey. Luckiest man alive, four years in a row.”

Camila swallowed and tore her eyes away from the couple to stare at her mother who watched them with a smile. Four. Years. Those two words alone felt like a slap in the face. She somehow doubted that her mother could not have known about that. “How… how long have you been friends?”

“How long has it been, Sinuhe, three years?” Dr Sanchez gave her mother a warm smile as she nodded. “It was a tough start, but in the end she couldn’t resist my charm. Sadly our busy schedules never allowed us to come to this lovely party before this evening.”

So it was true. There was no way of her not knowing about his marriage. He wouldn’t have treated it like a dirty little secret, if he proudly brought his husband to a party like this. Her mother had no problem to be friends with an openly gay man for three years? But when it came to her own flesh and blood…

She blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the lump that formed in her throat. Throughout all this heartache, all this talk about her sexuality being a phase, about how it was something abnormal, some kind of mental disease that had to be treated – during all this nonsense her mother had been friends with a gay man. An openly gay man. A married gay man. For three years. And it had not bothered her mother one bit. She had never seen anything wrong with it.

Camila was only vaguely aware that Lauren had started a conversation with the Sanchez couple. Her mother had no problems being friends with a man living in a homosexual marriage, but when her own daughter had come out, she could only sit there and urge her to go to conversion therapy? How fucked up was that?

Taking another deep breath, she tried to calm down and blinked the tears away that were slowly welling up. This was definitely not the time to create a scene. It was not the time to think about her mother’s hypocrisy. She could not change the past. Her mother accepted her and the relationship with Lauren now. Couldn’t this be enough? Was it important with whom she was friends?

“Shut up,” Lauren’s gasp brought her out of the unpleasant thoughts. “You’re an attorney for the ACLU? The ACLU?”

“I wasn’t aware that there was a different one.” Michael grinned. “I work for the one in Florida, yes.”

The look on Lauren’s face could only be described as completely awestruck. It was as if a child had just been introduced to the real Santa Claus, but Camila could barely find joy in seeing her girlfriend like this. Not only was her mother good friends with a gay man, his husband was also involved with the ACLU. Of course. It just had to get better.

“You guys are my heroes!”

Raising an eyebrow, Camila took another sip of champagne, trying to ignore the anger that was slowly bubbling up in her. Of course Lauren would be the one to fangirl over a civil rights organization. Although Michael didn’t seem to mind. He chuckled and threw his husband and her mother an amused look.

“Word is, you might be interested in becoming an attorney yourself?” Michael asked knowingly. Was her father telling everyone at the party about her girlfriend’s plans? This topic could not have come up in a normal conversation between her mother and… her friends. Camila frowned. Her friends, indeed. “You know, the ACLU in New York City offers a few internships for grad students each year, Ms Jauregui. You can always apply for one in the future, if this is something you’re interested in.”

Did they know how her mother had reacted to her coming out? Probably not. Her parents had probably kept it as quiet as possible. After all, wasn’t it shameful to have a disgrace like her in the family?

“Interested?!” Lauren’s eyes widened. “I-I’m – yes, I think I’ll look into it. Thank you, sir. I never thought about that option!”

Why had her mother reacted like that anyway? Yes, she had stopped her father from immediately disowning her – but she had given her the pamphlets of those horrifying facilities, asking her to go to those because they would help her to become normal. She had said they could cure her.

Camila’s grip on her glass tightened as she glanced between her mother and the Sanchez couple. Her own mother had turned her head away when her father had thrown her out of the house. She had not lifted a finger to protect her. Not uttered a single word. All the while being friends with a gay man.

But it was in the past, wasn’t it? Her mother had apologized. Since then she had been supportive. She had worked to understand it, to accept it. Although it had taken the disappearance of her daughter for her to change in the first place. Just like she almost had to die for her father to see her as a human being and not as an inconvinience.

“Ms Cabello?” She blinked a few times and focused back on Dr Sanchez who gave her a tiny smile. She really needed to get a grip. This was neither the time nor the place to lose control. “I asked whether you’re excited about getting cleared next week?”

“Um, yes. Yes, I am, I can’t wait. The last weeks were a nightmare.”

“I can imagine.” Dr Sanchez chuckled. “But I’m sure Ms Jauregui took great care of you, if my first impression was right.”

“Oh, your first impression was spot on,” her mother answered before she could say anything. “Lauren is a true angel. Karla could not have found a better partner.”

“I think I need some fresh air,” Camila blurted out, unable to take it any longer. The champagne was not going to help her in keeping her emotions in check, it was the opposite. She needed to get out of here before she said anything bad. Before she ruined her parents’ precious Christmas Eve party and gave them another reason to hate her. “It’s a bit hot in here. Excuse me.”

Without waiting for a reply, she let go of Lauren’s hand and hurried towards the open glass doors that led to the backyard. She didn’t care that she would receive a lecture later about how rude she had been acting in front of the guests or that she had probably confused Lauren quite a bit with her sudden exit.

It was too much. Everything was too much. The party, the guests, her parents, the part she was forced to portray for the sake of her father’s reputation – even that stupid playlist of the string quartet playing Christmas songs in the background.

Without looking back, she reached the terrace and followed the small path that led through the garden. It looked beautiful, illuminated by various lanterns and torches, but she didn’t have the mind to admire it.

It was likely that her reaction was overly dramatic. But it hurt. All she had ever wanted in life was to be accepted and loved by her parents. And while her mother seemed to have reached that stage of acceptance – was it wrong of her to feel hurt that her mother had accepted complete strangers for the same thing she had resented about her own daughter?

She took in a shaky breath and tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. She was not going to cry. Not tonight. It was in the past. Wasn’t it normal that parents felt more strongly about what their children were doing with their lives than what non-relatives did?

“Karla? What are you doing here?”

Startled, her head snapped up and her wide eyes met her father’s. Trees and bushes had obstructed her view of him until she had walked around a corner. It was just her luck that she was not going to get a break tonight.

She hesitantly glanced into the direction of the house and back to him. She was so not in the mood for his criticism. “I… I needed some air. Shouldn’t you be with your guests?”

“Is everything okay?” Ignoring her question, he gave her a quick once-over. “Are you feeling ill? Do we need to call Dr Sanchez out here?”

“No,” Camila drawled. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

He nodded and let his gaze wander over the bushes and trees around them. “Thank you for coming to the party this year. I know you don’t particularly enjoy these functions and I appreciate your attendance.”

Surprised, she raised her eyebrows. “Wasn’t it mandatory?”

“Karla, you’re an adult – you can do as you please. It’s not like you ever had a problem with that.”

“Seriously?” Camila glared at him, unable to hold herself back. She heard the hidden meaning loud and clear and she was done. “How many jabs at my sexual orientation do you want to throw at me before it gets boring?”

He sighed and shook his head. “This is neither the time nor the place –”

“No, I’m done with this bullshit!”

“Karla –”

There was a warning in his voice, but she didn’t care anymore. Perhaps it was the mixture of her medication and alcohol that loosened her tongue, maybe it were the last three hours full of bigotry or the latest revelation about her mother’s friend.

“I like women – big fucking deal, Papá! So do more than fifty percent of the world population! You like women too. Women are awesome, why can’t we just agree on that and call it a freaking day?!”

“Language.” Her father’s eyes turned cold as they bored into her own. “Don’t play dumb, Karla. Despite your less than intelligent decisions in the past, I know that you are not actually an idiot.”

“Why do you care so much with whom I hold hands with or who I kiss anyway? Why is gender so damn important to you? It’s my life, not yours.” Camila noticed that he clenched his jaw. It was probably unwise to provoke him any further, but she was past the point of caring. The alcohol in her system didn’t help either. “I love Lauren. I don’t tell you to stay away from Mamá either, do I?”

“Do not – I repeat, do not compare our marriage to your sinful lifestyle, Karla.”

“Sinful?” Camila couldn’t help it, she snorted. He wanted to use the religion card? “If God had anything against me being a lesbian or our relationship, he would not have made me gay or brought us together. God is about love, not hate. Jesus preached about love. But if I really should go to hell for loving Lauren, then I gladly will. None of this, however, is in any shape or form your problem, Papá. Don’t use religion as an excuse to hate me or as a reason why seeing two women or two men holding hands makes you uncomfortable or disgusted. You know that there are many things the bible tells us to not do and yet no one cares about them. If you can’t handle it even though it is none of your business, you should look for the answer in your own behavior – not in mine.”

Her father took a deep breath, trying to stay as collected as possible. “I am not going to have this – this discussion on Christmas Eve mere feet away from a house full of guests. However, I will tolerate your choices in public. We will present a united front, especially with the upcoming trial.”

Camila stared at him in pure disbelief. “Is your reputation all you ever care about?”

“It’s my career, Karla!” he suddenly snapped. “Of course I care! Do you think I want to stay the state’s attorney for all eternity? The last election was already a close call because people kept wondering where the heck you were!”

Unbelievable. Camila opened her mouth only to close it again. She had no words. What could she even say after that? Her father had just told her that he would only pretend to tolerate her sexual orientation for the sake of his future career. He basically said that he only cared about her disappearance because it made him look like a fool.

“As I already said in the hospital,” he continued much calmer than before, “maybe it was my fault that you turned out like this. That you somehow felt so repelled by men due to my actions that you sought love in women. Or maybe it was Mr Forster who turned you –”

“No one turned me into a lesbian,” Camila muttered, turning her head away from him. The crushing disappointment she was feeling surprised her. Had a small part of her actually dared to hope that he was coming around?

“I did research, Karla. There are scientific studies that show that this… this thing is not genetic. You were not born like this, no matter how much the mainstream media is trying to convince you. If you just gave men a chance, I’m sure you would find a suitable husband one day! Don’t you want a normal family? A relationship that is not frowned upon? You could have it! What about Mr Vanderbilt? You seem to be fond of him. Yesterday evening I noticed the relief on your face when Ms Jauregui told you he would not spend Christmas alone. You care about him.”

“Because he is my friend! And what part of me saying that I’m in love with Lauren did you not understand?” she asked, frustrated beyond belief.

“I am sure Ms Jauregui is a lovely girl, but this is your life we’re talking about! Karla, wake up. You almost died because of this silly thing! If you had not been so stubborn and lived a normal life, nothing like that would have happened in the first place!”

Camila took a step back, staring at him in complete shock. This evening was becoming a real nightmare. “You’re – you’re saying it was my own fault?”

He paused and raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“You… you just said…” Shaking her head, she took another step back. “You’re blaming me for everything Gabriel wanted to do to me?”

“That’s ludicrous. I was merely stating that this – this lifestyle of yours is dangerous. Why do you insist on living this way when you could so easily find a boy and live a carefree life?” He sighed in frustration. “Your mother said I should give you a chance. She says that this is more than just some sort of rebellion or choice. I love you, Karla, and I want what is best for you. But I don’t want someone to hurt you because of something as ridiculous and as easily fixed as this.”

Camila watched him, taking in the worried frown, his clenched fists and the desperate look in his eyes. With a start, she realized that he actually meant those words. He was not lying. He was not trying to deliberately hurt her. He was trying to protect her in the best way he knew how. A wave of sadness overcame her when the truth set in. Would he ever understand that her loving other women was not a choice she made?

“Maybe Lauren and I should leave now,” she mumbled and turned back to the house. Staying overnight for Christmas suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. She could very well just visit Sofi during the day and take her out for a few hours. “Thanks for the invitation.”

“Karla, please –”

Pausing, she looked over her shoulder. “If you really loved me, you would try to understand that being gay is not something I can change. You wouldn’t look for excuses and studies that tell you how you’re right and that I’m wrong instead of looking at all the facts. You wouldn’t tell me that I should try to date a boy I have no romantic feelings for just because it would be more convenient. You wouldn’t have tried to send me to conversion therapy multiple times. You wouldn’t say that it’s me who has to change in order to be safe in this country instead of those lunatics who want to hurt me or even kill me just because I’m attracted to women. And you certainly wouldn’t have said that you wished I was never born when you stopped by my apartment after a year of no contact. Not even in anger, Papá.”

Her father visibly winced, but not a second later his posture changed. Camila watched with fascination as every emotion left his face and he became the cold man she had always known growing up. He didn’t make the impression as if he wanted to say anything else. His eyes were rooted to a spot just above her head, but when she turned back around, nothing was there.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “Maybe you and Ms Jauregui should leave. Thank you for attending the party.”

Swallowing thickly, she cast a last glance over her shoulder and nodded. She hadn’t meant for the evening to turn out like this, but she felt a little better after getting it off her chest. She knew it was likely that she had erased any kind of progress she had achieved with her father in the last few weeks. But what kind of relationship would they have had, if she had held her tongue and let him think she could still be saved?

“She is not going anywhere.”

Camila’s head snapped back to the path in front of her. Wide-eyed, she stared at her mother who had suddenly stepped away from the bushes that had hidden them from the house. The icy glare that had been directed at her father, immediately softened when she made brief eye-contact with her. How long had she been standing there? Had she followed her outside after she fled the room? It was likely that she had wanted to check on her, seeing how concerned her mom was about her injury.

Unsure, she glanced between her parents as an awkward and tense silence filled the air. She really didn’t need to be the reason why Christmas would suck again for her sister. Not when Sofi had told her how different the last Christmas had been from their usual ones. “Mamá, I don’t mind –”

“No. You will not go anywhere, if you don’t really want to. Christmas is about family and I’m not going to let you spend it by yourself instead of celebrating it with Sofia. You should not feel as if you’re not welcome in your own home and by your family.” She narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Your father needs to act like the adult he is. Now go inside, mija. You don’t want to get sick.”

Gnawing on her lip, Camila hesitated for a few more seconds before she listened to her mom’s order and walked past her, back towards the house. She really did not want to be in the middle of her parents’ argument – especially not if her mom had heard everything she had said. Including the bit about her father telling her he wished she was never born. Wincing, she quickened her steps. She really didn’t want to be here for that.

But her mother coming to her defense – she didn’t quite know what to make of that. It was obvious that her mom was not the same woman she used to be. She was in her corner, Camila was almost sure of that now. Maybe she even had a valid reason why she was okay with befriending gay people and not liking the idea of having a lesbian as a daughter. Perhaps it had only been an overreaction of her to assume things. She only needed to ask.

════════════

A/N: Okay, I hope this wasn’t too bad. I can promise that the next update will not take another year, haha. If you liked the chapter and are not too mad at me for the hiatus…

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#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #submission #A Light in the Dark

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nothingman · 7 years

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South Park turns 20 years old this summer, meaning that if those foulmouthed, crudely fashioned 8-year-olds that were first introduced on August 13, 1997 followed the rules of linear time, they’d all be adults farting down the barrel of 30. Similarly, there’s now an entire generation of people—spanning high-schoolers to middle-aged people who remember watching its early seasons in college, and who can’t believe they’re reading/writing 20-year retrospectives on it now—who were actually raised on South Park.

The show celebrated this existential crisis-inducing fact last year with a tongue-in-cheek ad, depicting South Park as a sort of benevolent guarantor keeping reliable watch over a girl from infancy until her first trip to college. It was a typically self-effacing joke, but it’s true: Our world is now filled with people for whom South Park has always been there, a cultural influence that, in some cases, is completely foundational to their point of view. The ad doesn’t end with the girl logging onto Twitter to complain that social justice warriors are ruining the world, but otherwise, spot on.

After all, for most of its 20 years, South Park’s own point of view has more or less been this: “Everything and everyone are full of shit—hey, relax, guy.” It’s a scorched-earth, deconstructionist approach steeped in equal-opportunity offensiveness that’s made South Park one of the funniest satires ever produced, and particularly potent in the time in which it debuted. “When we started, [it was] Beavis And Butt-Head, and us, and in some ways The Simpsons, and Married With Children—shit like that,” Matt Stone told Vanity Fair last year, putting the Comedy Central cartoon in the company of other ’90s series that diverged from the “bland… shitty sitcoms that were just so lifeless” Stone and co-creator Trey Parker were reacting against. But South Park has now lived long enough to see the experimental become the conventional. And it’s outlasted all but one of those series not just by subverting formulaic TV, but by feeding directly off current events. As a result, for many of those raised by South Park, the show has functioned as sort of a scatological op-ed—in some cases, maybe the only op-ed they’ve ever been interested in.

To these acolytes, Parker and Stone have spent two decades preaching a philosophy of pragmatic self-reliance, a distrust of elitism, in all its compartmentalized forms, and a virulent dislike of anything that smacks of dogma, be it organized religion, the way society polices itself, or whatever George Clooney is on his high horse about. Theirs can be a tricky ideology to pin down: “I hate conservatives, but I really fucking hate liberals,” Stone said once, a quote that has reverberated across the scores of articles, books, and message-board forums spent trying to parse the duo’s politics, arguing over which side can rightfully claim South Park as its own. Nominally, Parker and Stone are libertarians, professing a straight-down-the-middle empathy for the little guy who just wants to be left alone by meddling political and cultural forces. But their only true allegiance is to whatever is funniest; their only tenet is that everything and everyone has the potential to suck equally. More than anything, they’ve taught their most devoted followers that taking anything too seriously is hella lame.

So while they’ve advocated, in their own fucked-up way, for stuff like the right to abortion, drug legalization, and general tolerance for others, they’ve also found their biggest, easiest targets in liberalism’s pet causes, those formerly rebellious ideals that had become safely sitcom-bland over the Bill Clinton years—all of which were steeped in actually, lamely caring about stuff. Taking the piss out of the era’s priggish, speech-policing, Earth Day-brainwashed hippies was the most transgressive—and therefore funniest—thing you could possibly do. And so, South Park joked, global warming is just a dumb myth perpetrated by “super cereal” losers. Prius drivers are smug douches who love the smell of their own farts. Vegetarians end up growing vaginas on their face. “Transgender people” are just mixed-up, surgical abominations. The word “fag” is fine. Casual anti-Semitism is all in good fun. “Hate crimes” are silly. Maybe all you pussies just need a safe space.

“Did South Park accidentally invent the alt-right?” Janan Ganesh asked recently in the Financial Times, articulating a theory that began gaining traction as an entire political movement seemed to crystallize around the show’s “anti-PC chic” and general fuck-your-feelings attitude. Way back in 2001, political blogger Andrew Sullivan had already coined the term “South Park Republican” to describe the supposedly emerging group of young people who, like the show, were moderate on social issues like abortion and gay marriage, but also rejected the stuffy doctrines of diversity and environmentalism. They also believed, as Parker and Stone would soon illustrate in Team America: World Police, that the world needed American dicks to fuck assholes, over the objections of liberal pussies and F.A.G. celebrities. That voting bloc never actually materialized—though to be fair, the show was only four years old at the time. It would take at least another decade of people with Cartman avatars just joshin’ about hating Jews before the South Park generation would truly come of age.

Let’s be real, though. South Park didn’t “invent” the “alt-right,” even accidentally. The “alt-right” is the product of lots of things—disenfranchisement; internet echo chambers; aggrieved Gamergaters; boredom; the same ugly, latent racism that’s coursed beneath civilization’s veneer for millennia; etc. The growing, bipartisan distaste for Wall Street-backed career politicians and the epically bungled machinations of the Democratic Party certainly didn’t help, nor did the frustrating inability of the social justice movement to pick its battles—or its enemies. Furthermore, it’s always dangerous to assign too much influence to pop culture, even something that’s been part of our lives for this long. And as South Park itself derided in “The Tale Of Scrotie McBoogerballs,” you shouldn’t go looking for deep sociopolitical messages in your cartoon dick jokes. (Then again, only three years earlier, it also argued that imaginary characters really can change people’s lives and even “change the way [you] act on Earth,” making them “more realer” than any of us—so you decide.)

Still, it’s not that much of a stretch to see how one might have fed the other, if only through the sort of intangible osmosis that happens whenever an influential artwork spawns imitators, both on screen and off. South Park may not have “invented” the “alt-right,” but at their roots are the same bored, irritated distaste for politically correct wokeness, the same impish thrill at saying the things you’re not supposed to say, the same button-pushing racism and sexism, now scrubbed of all irony.

There’s also the same co-opting of anti-liberal stances as the highest possible form of rebellion: Parker and Stone used to brag that they were “punk rock” for telling their Hollywood friends how much they loved George W. Bush; Parker even told Rolling Stone in 2007, “The only way to be more hardcore than everyone else is to tell the people who think they’re the most hardcore that they’re pussies, to go up to a tattooed, pierced vegan and say, ‘Whatever, you tattooed faggot, you’re a pierced faggot and whatever’”—a quote that may as well have been taken from 4chan’s /pol/ board this morning. “Conservatism is the new punk rock,” echoed a bunch of human cringes a decade later. Whatever, you faggot, a dozen Pepes tweeted a few seconds ago.

But well beyond the “alt-right,” South Park’s influence echoes through every modern manifestation of the kind of hostile apathy—nurtured along by Xbox Live shit-talk and comment-board flame wars and Twitter—that’s mutated in our cultural petri dish to create a rhetorical world where whoever cares, loses. Today, everyone with any kind of grievance probably just has sand in their vagina; expressing it with anything beyond a reaction GIF means you’re “whining”; cry more, your tears are delicious. We live in Generation U Mad Bro, and from its very infancy, South Park has armed it with enough prefab eye-rolling retorts (“ManBearPig!” “I’m a dolphin!” “Gay Fish!” “…’Member?”) to sneeringly shut down discussions on everything from climate change and identity politics to Kanye West and movie reboots. Why not? Everything sucks equally, anyway. Voting is just choosing between some Douche and a Turd Sandwich. Bullying is just a part of life. Suck it up and take it, until it’s your turn to do the bullying. Relax, guy.

Again, it’s a world that South Park didn’t create intentionally, just by setting out to make us laugh, or by Parker and Stone trying to get rich off a bunch of farting construction paper cutouts. But even Parker and Stone seem slightly, if only occasionally uneasy about the overarching life lessons they’ve imparted—often expressing that anxiety in the show itself. In “You’re Getting Old,” South Park’s most moving half-hour, Parker and Stone grappled directly with the cumulative effects of perpetually shitting on things—of allowing a healthy, amused skepticism to ossify into cynicism and self-satisfied superiority, then into nihilism, then into blanket, misanthropic hatred. That dark night of the soul later formed the through-lines of seasons 19 and 20, where South Park wryly, semi-sincerely confronted the series’ place as a “relic from another time” by putting the town under the heavy thumb of PC Principal.

Then—after hooking its red-pilled fans with an extended critique of the emptiness of neoliberalism, epitomized by a sneering, “safe space”-mocking character that was literally named Reality—it tried confronting the audience who had most embraced their ramped-up anti-PC crusades. Last season kicked off with Cartman admitting to Kyle, “We’re two privileged, straight white boys who have their laughs about things we never had to deal with,” a confession rendered only slightly tongue-in-cheek by the fact of who was saying it. And it culminated in Gerald, who’d spent the year gleefully harassing people online, squaring off with the Danish prime minister, a stand-in for every troll the show’s ever nurtured:

I want to stand here and tell you that you and I are different, but it’s not true. All we’ve been doing is making excuses for being horrible people. I don’t know if you tried to teach me a lesson, but you have. I have to stand here and look at you. And all I see is a big fat reflection of myself.

Ultimately, of course, Gerald comes to a familiar conclusion: “Fuck you, what I do is fucking funny, bitch!” he cries, before kicking the prime minister in the balls. Fair enough. South Park is, and always will be, funnier than any of the maladjusted creeps who have spent decades internalizing the show’s many false equivalencies and ironic racism, then lazily regurgitating them in an attempt to mimic its edginess—or worse, by treating them as some sort of scripture for living. And to be certain, there are millions of Poe’s law-defying viewers for whom South Park really is just a comedy, one that satisfies the most basic requirement of saying the things you shouldn’t say, in a far more clever way than you could say them. But regardless of their satirical intent, or the humanity that grounds even their nastiest attacks, it’s clear that even Parker and Stone sometimes question the influence they’ve had on the world, and who is and isn’t in on the joke.

Which brings us (as all 2017 articles must) to Donald Trump, the ultimate troll, and one that Parker sees as a natural outgrowth of South Park’s appeal to a nation bored with politeness. As he recently told the Los Angeles Times:

He’s not intentionally funny but he is intentionally using comedic art to propel himself. The things that we do—being outrageous and taking things to the extreme to get a reaction out of people—he’s using those tools. At his rallies he gets people laughing and whooping. I don’t think he’s good at it. But it obviously sells—it made him president.

Trump’s blithe offensiveness, rampant narcissism, and faith that everyone but him is stupid makes him a natural analog to Eric Cartman. But instead, South Park made him into Mr. Garrison—a decision that makes some logical sense (Mr. Garrison is of constitutional age, hates Mexicans and women, and doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself), though it also felt a bit like dissembling. Nevertheless, as the election wore on, South Park again seemed to acknowledge its role in helping to create a world where someone like Trump could seem like an exciting, entertaining alternative to conventional blandness. And it made a real, concerted effort to stymie any suggestion of support by having Garrison declare repeatedly that he was “a sick, angry little man” who “will fuck this country up beyond repair,” all while openly mocking those who still loved him anyway as nostalgia-drunk idiots.

“Is it just me or has South Park gone full cuck?” wondered fans on Reddit’s The_Donald immediately after that episode aired, and probably not for the first (or last) time. But in the aftermath of Trump/Garrison’s election, those same, vigilant cuck-watchers were back to crowing over how South Park had really stuck it to politically correct types in a scene where Trump/Garrison tells PC Principal, “You helped create me.” That South Park positioned this as less of a triumphant comeuppance than a suicidal backfire didn’t seem to matter. And the show more or less left it there—portraying Trump/Garrison as a dangerously incompetent buffoon, but also as the ultimate “u mad?” to all those liberals they fucking hate.

All of which makes Parker and Stone’s recent declaration to lay off Trump in the coming 21st season a real disappointment at best, cowardice at worst. The duo is, of course, under no obligation to tackle politics—or anything else they don’t want to, for that matter. They’re also right that mocking Trump is both redundant and “boring,” and also that everyone does it. For two dyed-in-the-wool contrarians, Trump comedy feels every bit as bland, lifeless, and sitcom-safe as an episode of, say, Veronica’s Closet. Furthermore, Parker’s complaints of the show just “becoming CNN now” and not wanting to spend every week endlessly restacking the sloppy Jenga pile of Trump-related outrage is completely understandable. Believe me, I get it.

That said: Man, what a cop out. South Park has already spent the past 20 years being CNN for its CNN-hating audience. Meanwhile, Parker and Stone have proudly, loudly thumped for a “fearless” brand of satire that’s willing to mock everyone from George W. Bush to Scientology to Mormonism to Muhammad, even under death threats. To shrug now and say, as Parker did, “I don’t give a shit anymore”—right when, by their own admission, the influence of the show’s worldview has reached all the way to the White House—feels especially disingenuous, and suspiciously like caving to the young, Trump-loving fans with whom they have forged such an uneasy relationship. (“South Park bends the knee on their fake-news-fueled portrayal of President Trump,” one The_Donald post gloated, followed by many, many more.) If they truly believe that those trolls in the mirror are “horrible people” who are helping to “fuck the country up beyond repair,” it would be truly fearless to tell them why, with no hint of ambiguous, everything-sucks irony that can be willfully misinterpreted.

Instead, Parker now says he’s eager to get back to “the bread and butter of South Park: kids being kids and being ridiculous and outrageous.” Which is great! South Park is absolutely at its best when it focuses on that stuff, and I look forward to watching it all on my hurting butt. Still, after 20 years, even they seem to realize that many of those ridiculous, outrageous kids for whom it’s “always been there” have long since grown up—and some of them have gone on to do some real, destructive adult shit. Like their inspirations, South Park’s generation of trolls are tiny but loud, and they’ve had the strange effect of changing the world. It sure would be nice if South Park would grow up as well and take responsibility for them.

Or, you know, maybe I just have sand in my vagina.

via A.V. Club

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nightcoremoon · 7 years

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now that I've driven home and had a few minutes to cool off and collect my thoughts, I feel I should explain myself to the people who have been following me and know who i am so I don't damage my relationship or reputation more than I probably already have. there was a post that an autistic person I follow made, where he vented about bigotry against autistic people, and ended with a passive aggressive "...janice". there was another post that a nonbinary person I follow made where they vented about bigotry against gender nonconforming people, and ended with a passive aggressive "...denise". I'm not 100% sure which was which but I DEFINITELY remember the posts, as well as the profile pictures of the people who posted them. I don't remember the urls though, and even if I did remember them I wouldn't list them in case the people who are now harassing and spamming me in my inbox and activity feeds decided to also hop on their [proverbial] dicks as well as mine because they apparently culturally appropriated those post templates, of ending extended rants about various bigots and ending them with names befitting of middle aged suburban soccermoms, karen. now, when listing people of this demographic, I used to include white among those adjectives. however, there are black middle aged suburban soccermoms, hispanic middle aged suburban soccermoms, and asian middle aged suburban soccermoms, and pretty much people of every race who have the potential to be this type of person the practice strawmans. obviously not every single middle aged suburban parent of children who participate heavily in after school activities is going to be the type of person to scream at retail workers or starbucks baristas or people who cut off their minivans when they're driving 15 under the speed limit in the left lane. not every single middle aged suburban person is an undeducated bible thumping bigot with their head shoved up their ass. not every one of them is a problematic piece of shit that stands by the #alllivesmatter crew or trump or whatever the republicans are rallying around this week. not even all of the white ones, and there are some people who fit the trope who are not white. I've dealt with many of them during my days at target, but I always stood by including white. until recently. when I learned it made black people uncomfortable when white people made white jokes, I was of course initially hesitant. "that's fucking stupid!" I though. "I'm not assuaging white guilt by doing this, I'm just finding it in me to laugh at myself". and then I read a bit more about the subject and figured it isn't worth the potential heartache if I fought it because in all honesty it kind of makes sense. my mom's boyfriend's son is black (and hispanic), and I had once made a white girl joke to my sister in front of him and mom told me later that both he and her boyfriend were uncomfortable with me saying that. after seeing the post that talked about it, and my... slight breakdown where I may have dramatically overreacted... I decided to try and stop with the white people jokes because I want to unlearn all of the racist shit that my dad, stepmom, aunts, uncles, grandparents, former friends, former acquaintances, and society in general that I possibly could, because racism as a concept digs into my skin and fucks me up. it used to make me absolutely seethe with rage, and I still get a little steamed by it. in fact I once got in a LOT of trouble with my high school sociology student teacher because I got really shitty with her when she- an anthropology student no less- kept calling one kid in our class by his initial because apparently kudsai is just Too Hard™ to pronounce. one day, an off day where I forgot to take my medicine, she called him that and I yelled at her "he has a name, so use it". granted I didn't like the kid. I thought he was annoying; loud, obnoxious, constantly making sex jokes while we were studying freud (and even the fucking holocaust), in the choir and the football team... basically like any other cishet teenage boy. but being annoying is no excuse for a teacher to not take five fucking seconds of her day to learn how to say his name right just because it wasn't franklin or gregory, two of the other black kids who I went to school with. anyone following me as far back as when annie got remade with quvenzhane wallis as the titular role might have read my thoughts on the matter of pronouncing people's names right. i'm not saying this to pat myself on the back for not being racist, because WOW was I a rough mess of things back then, but I was never like my dad's side of the family about race. back when michael brown's death and ferguson were still talked about, I found myself agreeing with rush limbaugh about some of the things he said, so clearly I haven't been a perfect angel my whole life. anyway, back to white people jokes making black people feel uncomfortable. I've been trying to make myself agree with that, which as anyone who has the syndrome formerly known as aspergers can probably attest to, is hard as shit to do. possible but hard. like, I'm even now still unlearning some acephobia, transphobia, queerphobia, islamophobia, and even though I know the occasional fleeting thoughts that I think are wrong and bad, they still happen very frequently. same goes with various forms of racism and xenophobia. my dad (and former stepdad's) influences are probably so deep because of various issues with abandonment and abuse that I'm not gonna discuss here, and they're both absolutely reeking with white supremacist microaggressions. so I'm definitely trying my hardest. part of that is why I reacted so negatively when people misinterpreted what I said, put words in my mouth, and straight up told me to kill myself in all of these messages that are still flooding in. another part is because I truly do stand by the things that I meant to say, rather than the things that it appears I've said. I really do think that it's unreasonable to say that it's racist for people who aren't black to make posts where we vent about various injustices we face from people who are misinformed and ignorant and straight up smarmy condescending assholes and then end it with a passive aggressive name of some baby boomer fuckwit, peggy. because these baby boomer fuckwits come in many colors (black people are still capable of being racist [against hispanic/asian/etc people, not whites, I need to make that abundantly clear], classist, misogynist, queerphobic, ableist, otherwise bigoted prejudiced assholes), and these names that are heralded as "typically white", like henry or franklin or gregory or harold or penelope or alice or etc, are not exclusively white names. I've seen or met black people with names like this and while it's definitely not the majority (not even close), and it's definitely partially due to cultural erasure perpetuated by gentrification, it still exists. so it doesn't make sense to me why the person who wrote the post that started me on this whole sequence of posts about this topic insisted that it was a 'white people names' thing. especially when white people names are more like khaeylieghhe or miakkaylia or annedeeye or some other ridiculous bastardisation of english language in order to make your child feel special and unique and end up growing to be a cookie cutter member of the conservative party that tries to take down affirmative action because they feel like it's reverse discriminatory or some shit. if it was something like that, making fun of those names that are actually like making jokes at the expense of white people [I think I should apologize in advance because technically this counts as a white people joke even if it's just an example] would make perfect sense. however I have not only seen posts in this template of ending with baby boomer names being used as tools to express their distaste in queerphobia, ableism, classism, xenophobia, and intolerance of other sorts, but I've made them before, and it has had not a god damn bit of racial connotation to it at all unless it's been specifically a black millennial on tumblr venting specifically about a white people-ism, and to make a post that shits on everybody who uses this template to cope if they're not black, and causes those kids who use it to cope to ask why not, and then get immediately shit on by assholes who treat them just like people are treating me, who tell them that it doesn't matter if they're neurodivergent or gay or trans or whatever because they're being Big Bad Evil Racists™ by ending their rant posts with names like becky, allison. I don't care if you're black. if you treat queer or disabled kids like shit and call them racist when they're not being racist, no matter what color your skin is, you're an asshole. and to act like fucking salem massachusetts when confronted with legitimate criticism of your ill-informed unbridled assault of an angry mama bear to queer and disabled kids, is just DISGUSTING. WEAK. and PATHETIC. and only serves to strengthen my points. so you know what, go ahead. keep sending me your hate anons. keep sending me the smarmy condescension. I can take it. just stop being fucking assholes to my family. your race isn't something I have any authority over but I won't let you use it as a weapon to beat people over the head with just because you get high off of the power you get from the veil of anonymity. false accusations of being a tier 6 skinhead is more palatable than telling us to kill ourselves.

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irkimatsu · 7 years

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Talking about OCs makes me miss my old crew... would anyone want to read little profiles on them? It's been a long time, so this is just little things I remember about them as I try to regain contact with them... this post has a main plot summary and profiles for one of the teams, the main team the story focused on. I think it'd take two more posts to cover my entire cast; one for the other plot relevant team, and one for a bunch of side characters that weren't as fleshed out, but that I still had fun with.

One issue with this is that a lot of plot and character details did come from two other people I used to roleplay with... I’m still in contact with both, but we stopped roleplaying years ago. I sometimes struggle to remember what was my idea and what was theirs...

LONG POST ALERT

The main setup of the story was, there's an alternate dimension that's a lot like ours. Everyone looks human, and they developed pretty much the same way we did, with a similar technological level. (For better, and for worse. People are assholes no matter what dimension they're in, sadly.) The main difference, however, is that the people here have the power to manipulate things around them. The elements, objects around them, human bodies... (I had a lot about how this influenced certain major events, including their technology, but alas, those notes are lost to time.) I called these people "Mages", but was always trying to come up with something better. A high-level Mage called Sura discovers the secret to inter-dimensional travel, and gets the idea to travel to other dimensions and see what she can find out there - valuable treasures, powerful secrets, just raid these places with no regard for the people living there. And... the rest of the Mages didn't really have much regard for other people from other dimensions, either. They were generally a very snobbish sort, regarding their magic and way of life as better than any other dimension could possibly have. But they knew on an intellectual level that this was probably bad, so a large number of adult Mages regardless of skill level ended up drafted by the government, known as the Council, and sent to these other worlds to recruit armies and stop Sura. These armies weren't treated very well, more like pawns than anything, but they must listen, it's for their own good, don't they understand? There was very much a "no side of this is innocent" element to the whole thing.

One particular dimension involved in this was Earth. Earth was a curious case; unlike most other peoples, the population here doesn't seem to have any inherent magic at all. Oh, those poor things, how do they survive? But they have one unique trait; they may not have any inner magic of their own, but if they can ally themselves with a magic user - the exact details of this allegiance varies depending on where the magic user came from - they can wield any sort of magic imaginable. They may not be much innately, but when it comes to magical potential, they're the most diverse population anyone has ever seen.

No wonder Sura's interested in studying these people, even if that means tearing their auras apart in the name of science...

Ven:

-A Mage who was drafted to be sent to Earth to train an army. He wants nothing to do with this, but his hands are tied. Responsibility is not his favorite thing in the world.

-Back in his dimension, he worked as a bar host. A total social butterfly; loves talking to and meeting new people, and is very good at modifying his behavior to blend in with groups. ...for the most part. He's also a hopeless flirt, and his social skills drop the more attracted to someone he is. He can be incredibly brazen. Some people like his straightforward style. Others smack him. He's never deterred, though. ...well, he'll probably stop flirting with that particular person once he reaches the smack point, but that's fine, he'll happily skip off to the next possible prospect. He doesn't dwell on missed opportunities for long.

-In general, he's a total perv and slob. Having him as a roomate is... exhausting. Prepare to fish his late night guest's underwear out from the couch cushions and to accept regular deliveries from Internet porn shops...

-Skilled at elemental magic, particularly wind, but that's more from innate talent than actual effort. He could have happily grown up in a world where he didn't have magical powers, and barely uses them in his daily life if he doesn't have to. It's more of a chore than anything. Not very good at anything else at the start. He honestly never expected to be drafted in the first place, given his poor skills, but it seems the higher-ups didn't have many qualifications for the people they chose besides "pulse". Ven is of low status, so he's cattle.

-Doesn't generally agree with his society's high-and-mighty act; would actually love to travel to other dimensions and meet the people there. That's the main reason he doesn't fight against his drafting. He doesn't normally pay attention to politics, though, so it's not like he fights against their bigotry, and he tends to be out of the loop when it comes to more complicated political issues. As time goes on and he learns more about the war, though, he becomes more and more frustrated, to the point where he'll denounce his people entirely if it means protecting Earth. He's met people here that are very worth protecting.

-Sexual preference is "Sure, how much?" Will screw anyone who'll let him, gender be damned. He'd never dream of violating consent, but the second you do consent, Ven can't get to the nearest soft, stable surface with you fast enough. He can be wild and pervy, but he's still a respectful partner who wants to make sure you have a good time, too. He does have a flaw here, though - he's aromantic and doesn't form any particular bond with anyone he sleeps with. He's had plenty of partners he'd never seen before or since. This in itself isn't a flaw, but the idea of bonding through sex is such a foreign concept to him that he tends to ignore the possibility that the other person might not feel the same way. He's upfront about his intentions and believes that's enough; if his partner later ends up developing feelings for him, this can lead to awkward situations that Ven takes no responsibility for, because hey, weren't they warned? Will hopefully get better at this through character development. Will always be aromantic, but could stand to learn some sensitivity toward people who aren’t.

-Short blonde hair, white skin, average height. Usually wearing a white suit. Looking proper is a good way of fitting in with social situations and setting people at ease, you know. (Until someone hot walks in and he turns into a drooling idiot, anyway. And when he's not lounging around on the couch in his boxers. His public and private presentations are VERY different.)

-In an alliance with two Earth girls. They’re teenagers at the start, but some adventures progress through their adulthood. He regards these two as his family and can be very protective of them. They are...

Nicole:

-Hyper!!! Loud!!! Stop!!!

-Actually a bit of a jab against "weeaboo" culture - she definitely had some pretty bad traits there. Random Japanese, shipping people who she had no business shipping... she meant well, she could just be... kind of annoying. She grows out of it.

-The second she's offered the opportunity to be a magical girl she's right on that, hell yeah, gonna be an anime hero! Is stunned to realize it actually takes effort. Comes to like that effort as part of her growth, though.

-After she grows up a little, is the nicest friend you could ever meet. Would give you the shirt off her back, unless she already gave it to someone else, in which case she'll go buy you one. Even if you didn't ask her. Even if you'd rather she didn't. She doesn’t expect anything in return, she just likes helping. It’s what magical girls do! Even if sometimes her ideas of helpful are off the mark.

-Tends to jump into things without thinking. Whether this makes her brave or stupid is your call. You know things have gotten bad when even Nicole is showing hesitation and concern.

-Has a bit of a rave girl aesthetic. Isn't involved in drugs or anything, but she likes going to raves and wearing bright colors. (Her friends don't let her go out to party alone, though. Love her dearly, but they don't trust her recklessness. She'd be way too easy to take advantage of...)

-Her main specialty is in elemental magic, particularly water and ice. Kind of okay at defensive/strength enhancing spells. Crap at healing.

-Pan, and poly in a sense. Romantically monogamous, but doesn't mind physical intimacy with friends, including sex. Wouldn't sleep with a stranger, but could end up with some friends with benefits. Wouldn't mind the same from her partner. As long as everyone's clear on the expectations. Intimacy is good! Love is good! She loves her friends! Why not make them feel good?

-Her skin tone was kind of... ambiguously brown? I never fully settled on an ethnicity for her. My initial instinct is Latina, but given how loud and obnoxious she can be... don't want to fall into stereotypes. Need to think about this one.

-Short little chubber. I used to have an idea where she'd lose weight from her strenuous magical training... but, you know what, fuck that, actually, Nicole's a chubber and always will be

Alice:

-Very different from Nicole. Quiet, hesitant, wants to fade into the background. This is difficult when you're tall and big-chested.

-I purposely tried to design her as a "conventional beauty" - long legs, large chest, long blonde hair, thin... but frankly, she hates it. Dressed very conservatively. Long skirts or pants; thick, high-cut sweaters in a desperate attempt to hide her chest. No case of "and then one day she learned to embrace how very beautiful she was and everyone loved her". No. She'd rather people notice literally anything else about her besides her chest. She didn't ask for the stupid thing...

-Very kind in her own way; is the sort of person who will talk gently to you and listen if that's what you need. She’s a good person to be around if you need someone who seems safe and not intimidating. But on the other hand, if you're loud and brash like a certain someone, she has very little patience. She's easily overwhelmed around obnoxious people, and can very quickly become sarcastic in that case. She didn't so much befriend Nicole; rather, Nicole latched onto her one day and wouldn't leave, constantly yapping at her during lunch and walks home and such, then they ended up on the same magical team and bonded that way. She eventually reaches a point where she'd do anything for Nicole, but at the start, she's more likely to just want to... not kill her, she's pacifistic. But go far, far away from her.

-So much of a pacifist that there's no capacity for combative magic at all in her aura. She can't control the elements like Nicole can; it's just not possible. She's one hell of a healer, though. This makes training her very frustrating for Ven, since he has no idea how healing works. They may need to ask someone else...

-Vegan. Not high and mighty about it, just doesn't like the taste of meat or dairy, so she doesn't eat it.

-Loves reading, especially mystery novels. (Nicole takes this as her cue to get Alice into mystery anime. It actually works.) Anything that involves logical puzzle solving, Alice is into. She's the planner and thinker while Nicole rushes at things. However, this does mean she's generally hesitant to act - nothing would get done without Nicole as the doer.

-Rejected the call to be a magical girl initially. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with the whole mess. But after her parents were kidnapped and killed for Sura's experiments, she felt she had no choice. Ven uses his natural charm (and probably some magical trickery) to convince people that he's Alice's adult brother who'd been living abroad, but came back upon the death of his parents to pay his final respects and to raise Alice. He's moving back into Alice's childhood home so that Alice doesn't have to move halfway across the planet and disrupt her studies and friendships.

-Being on the same team as Ven and Nicole soon becomes frustrating for her. The two of them have so much in common - similar magical specialties, an affinity for socializing, "doer" type personalities... they don't seem to be taking this seriously at all, and Alice feels left out. Ven doesn't even seem to believe they'll ever have to do anything major; let the Council take care of that stuff, he's just here to mess around and because Nicole seems to enjoy learning. Of course they can afford not to take this seriously, they haven't lost someone... one of Sura's minions manages to use Alice's frustrations to manipulate her and turn her against them for some time. It takes them a while to realize this new dark magical girl is Alice, but once they find out, they do eventually snap her out of it.

-Panromantic in the sense that she'll date someone if she really, really likes them, but not too worried about it and wouldn't mind being single forever. She'd rather be single than date someone who isn't perfect for her. Asexual. Not sex-repulsed, but finds it very boring. Might perform some very vanilla acts if her romantic partner really wanted her to, but honestly, that's just time she could be using to read a book or wash dishes or something. Their happiness during the act is nice, but that's all she can get out of it.

#Irk blubbers about nothing

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beautifulrzilience · 7 years

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GRATITUDE, a way of life that has shown me the value of Love & Reciprocity as an up and coming Professor

Wow. Like WOW. WOW. WOW. Where do I even begin ya’ll?

Well first of all, Good after noon. I hope that today is treating you well. As you know (if you’ve kept up with my life and all), yesterday marked my first week back as a PhD student and man! It was interesting, fun, a bit stressful, exhausting, and relieving all at the same time.

My morning today... was a bit rocky. I’m on my moon cycle and I woke up from a nightmare, only to find that I had bled through my chonies. So I got up washed off the blood from my sheets, took a light shower, put some new clothes on and went back to sleep. I then woke back up at about 9:30 am. I felt good and opened up my Acts of Faith For People of Color meditation book and opened it up to September 1st. I Am all right with me. I repeated it 4 times, to honor the 4 directions and 4 vital elements of life: earth, wind, water, & fire. I then proceeded to make myself a little smoothie and watered my baby girl Mochi. She is definitely growing! If you’ve never planted anything in your life, you have to try it. You feel such a special connection to las plantitas. My mother has always had plants in our home, and I feel like now I am learning the beauty of (albeit urban) gardening. And in this special case, I am blessed to have access to the medicines of our Native & Indigenous Elders that they left behind for us, medicine like Sage. I’m looking forward to when I can harvest my little sage plant. Check her out:

And after I sat and enjoyed the morning silence, for whatever reason, I felt like cleaning my whole apartment. I burned some Sierra Nevada Cedar (it makes me feel really calm and grounded) and I just began cleaning away. And before I knew it, I was receiving calls from work, mentees, and my partner. My day was beginning to take shape.

Then all of a sudden, I get an e-mail notification that I have a package waiting for me in the mail room, so I went downstairs (put my laundry in first) and headed towards the building manager (and my second dad) Don Miguel. And low and behold, a care package from my former student--sister--friend--and comrade in the struggle, Diana.

I was really excited and happy because well--who doesn’t like surprises?! I mean, I knew she was sending me something, but I did not expect this....

Can ya’ll just sit down with me and absorb my joy? I can’t even explain it. As I stood there, opening my package, read Diana’s card, I felt a splash of orange and white light surround my whole body, and I felt a warm embrace of positive energy, love and gratitude. Lately, in my life, I keep going back to this word because it truly has reshaped the way I look at my service for others, and how important it is to receive as well. Especially, as People of Color, our spirits and bodies have been extracted of all that we can give, with little or nothing ever given back to us in return.

I mean can I just show off a little bit??! Like this care package was extremely intentional and a demonstration of the gratitude I believe Diana has for me because what else can explain her time, love, energy, and effort she took to send this to me?

I had been craving sage, and well here it is. I love aroma therapy and she sent me incences for relaxation and reflection. She sent me Palo Santo. Lavendar and Sage oils for my oil diffuser. Beautiful pins. Beautiful necklace.

She sent me books. Both for my intellectual work and my spiritual growth. I know she’s been reading my blog and keeping up with my FB because before coming out here, I had posted a wish list of books for my research, and she got me Linda Tuhiwai Smith’s Decolonizing Methodologies. I truly appreciate it because as I have seen thus far in my program, any time I have mentioned that I am anti-police and anti-prisons, colleagues and professors have given me puzzled looks. Or made comments like, “Every time I hear you say that you’re anti prisons/police you leave me pensive, or “That’s something to say in a department that has fostered police.” Although I am not getting a PhD in Ethnic Studies as I had dreamt of, you can’t take the Ethnic Studies scholar out of me. So while I am in a conservative and traditional CJ department, I have my intellectual weapons to be critical of the field I am diving into. I don’t feel so alone and crazy for believing the visions I have for our world: free of prisons and police.

I met Diana 4 years ago when I was a Graduate Student Instructor for a Big Ideas Course on Prison at UC Berkeley and I’m never going to forget our first encounter. Her partner Thomas, and she walked in late to my class. Diana had a scowl on her face and TJ just had a blank stare. They sat in the back and after class let me know that they weren’t enrolled in my section but were hoping to switch in. So I let them. I was young, eager, and excited to have students of color and students in general in my space.

I would always get on them for being late, but as time went by I think both of them began to warm up to me and our friendship and mentorship began.

Sometimes as teachers we get caught up in our ego, you see a student with “an attitude” and you-we-I can (and often time do) assume that students are just assholes. But usually, in my experience, that is far from the truth. Students are human beings. They go through shit. Again, my students of color, often times carry so much trauma, pain, fear, and anxiety from home, and bring into the classroom without realizing it. But remembering where I came from, and the love and compassion most of my professors have shown me since undergraduate, I wanted to be that teacher too. So I am glad that that wasn’t the attitude I took because Diana ended up being one of my top students in that class and we became really good friends--still are. Talking about our dreams of liberating our Black, Brown, and Native/Indigenous brothers, sisters, and siblings from oppression. We would talk about self care, self love, and pursuing higher education. Our dreams. Our desires. Our fears.

Even with all the distance between us now, it is clear to me that our friendship and sisterhood is a lifetime. She has taught me the value of teaching with love and compassion. My life is a blessing. I can’t wait to see when she decides to go for her PhD.

She has what it takes, and so much more.

Thank you Diana, for showing me reciprocity and gratitude through your intentionality, love, and bond.

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Team Titans #24

Zero Hour is here, business itches!

Ending sentences with "bitches" has always been a super fun way to emphasize a sentence and pretend that you're about to cap a motherfucker in the ass. But since I'm trying to stop using the word "bitches" and my friends all keep yelling at me that my replacement word, "retards," is way worse, I needed to come up with a word that rhymes with bitches. I'm not sure "business itches" works perfectly but it almost sounds like I'm jazzing up bitches in a white person trying to be more urban kind of way. And I don't mean "black" when I say "urban," although I wouldn't argue with somebody who says I did just that. I don't have time to go to law school at one of the top fourteen elite colleges just to learn how to argue that lies are truth and truth are lies! But I do have time to say, "We'll just have to agree to disagree!" What about "Zero Hour is here, Quidditchers!"? No? You know who the most tiresome people in the world are? People who constantly declare that we can't say anything anymore. You can say whatever you want! But you're expressing something inherent in yourself when you go to bat for specific things you want to keep saying. I don't know what the things people can't say anymore are because they never tell you specifically the things they want to keep saying that they can't. Which seems telling, doesn't it? It's as if they want their argument to seem reasonable by including a bunch of things that they can't comprehend people being angry at them for saying. Maybe things like "kittens" or "can of beer" or "onstage masturbation cage." But they never say anything that makes me think, "Whoa. You shouldn't say that," when they say that people can't say anything anymore. Give me some examples! But you know you won't get any examples because then they'll have to defend wanting to say some things that might make people ask, "What kind of person wants to keep saying that?!" Some dumb people might feel the gears in their brain beginning to spring to life, leading them to respond, "But didn't you just say you're not going to say 'bitches' and that your friends yell at you for saying 'retards'?! See? You can't say anything anymore!" To those people, I'd just like to point out that A. I just said both of those words so you're wrong and B. I've made the personal choice not to use certain language in casual ways. My use of the word "retards" in the previous context was carefully chosen for the joke. You'll notice I didn't call anybody that no matter how slow the gears in their brains took to spring to life. Plus, I have also used the word "dumb" at the beginning of this sentence which would get some people up in arms at me. But even if they messaged me and said, "You're an ableist motherfucker, you motherfucker!" (but with a word that probably isn't shaming people who fuck mothers. I actually don't know any curse words that somebody can't make problematic with a hot take!), remember that thing I said about law school? I don't have time to learn to argue these things! Maybe at some future date, I'll come around to their way of thinking and stop calling stupid morons dumb (and maybe morons too (and stupid? Is stupid bad?!)) but until then, I don't feel like I can't say it just because some people get mad at me for saying it. I'll take the verbal haranguing and just get on with my life. And if I feel that they've made a great point, maybe I'll apologize. I mean, I won't apologize or admit I did anything wrong! But maybe I'll surreptitiously change my behavior in the future! We can't all be fucking Tumblr saints like Wil Motherfucking Wheaton! Man, I really heard it that time. The term "motherfucker" is really problematic! The people with the slowest gears in their brains probably just finally spat out the term "virtue-signaler" after reading all of that. Interesting how a certain type of people who think they can't say anything anymore have come up with a specific term to shout at people saying things they'd rather those people didn't say. It's weird how they ignore how being angry that they can't say certain things sort of signals their anti-virtue? I mean, that might not be true but there's an easy way to prove me wrong: be specific with the things you can't say when you say you can't say anything. If you just want to call your dog fat in public, you might want to realize that, by not expressing that specific expression, people might think you want to spout the n-word willy-nilly. See how maybe you'd want to clarify that? Unless, I mean, is it possible you just want to go around saying the n-word? Normally, I'd actually type out the n-word in a conversation like this. But you can't say anything anymore! Without consequences, I mean! You know, I think I'd be fine with their argument if they just added "without consequences" to the end of it. It would be a hell of a lot more honest. "But it makes life so hard when you have to deal with repercussions!" For transparency's sake, I just did a search of the word "nigger" on my site and found it used in seventeen different reviews (eighteen counting this one now too, I suppose!) which seems like an awful lot (even considering I've got over four thousand reviews. That's less than half of a percent! I guess I have to admit to being 0.5% racist now. Hmm, that seems like a lot written out like that. I am the monster everybody has been telling me I am!). Most of the entries seem to be discussions on the conservative use of the word thug as a stand-in for the n-word or discussing the "euphemism treadmill." A few of them are discussing Quentin Tarantino. At least one was me parodying Xbox users. Obviously none of them were derogatory or meant to be hurtful. But a few may have been too casual and edgelord-y in the mentioning of the word. I'd say out of those seventeen uses, only one really made me cringe. It was less the usage of the word and more the anti-Tumblr rant I went on that day. I almost sounded like one of those assholes who blames their retreat into right-wing fascism on being called out by social justice warriors! I must have had a bad day where somebody complained that I called a woman a barn owl and I had and I knew that I shouldn't have and I was acting defensive. Sorry about that, Internet! I'll do better! I was going to link to some of those posts but then I thought, "Why should I?! If somebody is so obsessed with my use of a word, they should have to damn themselves by typing it into the search bar!" See? Sometimes using a word is a necessary evil! Now that I've completely ruined my reputation and confused people with my personal non-rhyming slang "barn owl," I should probably read Team Titans #24. According to the cover, it has dinosaurs!

The weirdest part of Zero Hour was the laugh track.

Proclaiming the story you just spent years writing was so terribly written that only idiots would enjoy it might not be the great meta-dialogue you thought it was. The editors at DC were like Australians importing foxes and cats to get rid of their imported rabbit problem. But instead of using invasive species to manage other invasive species, they decided using time travel and alternate timelines were the best way to cure the DC Universe of a time travel and alternate timeline problem. You would have thought destroying all of the alternate Earths would have taken care of the problems with alternate timelines. But you and the DC editors forgot that terrible writers would still use alternate futures of the same Earth to prop up their inability to write well. But also, since Crisis fucked up so many characters' points of origins (see my non-existent Infinity, Inc. reviews in an alternate timeline where I actually purchased those comics), Zero Hour was needed to just restate all the origins of all the characters. What better way to do that than to fuck with the main DC timeline?! What could go wrong (aside from losing all of the Hal Jordan fans)?! Monarch explains that to create a world where he controls everything, he had to send 600 Team Titans into specific points in the past to change things just the right way for events to bring him to power. It's a good thing that, naturally, events happened to bring him to a point where he could send 600 Team Titans into the past to change the future that made his future control of everything possible! Fucking time travel. Suck every dick! The issue begins like any other confusing, contrived, and convoluted Team Titans issue:

With a boy just recently resurrected getting trampled to death by mammoths.

The randomly resurrected people and feral mammoths probably weren't specifically part of Monarch's plan. But when you fuck with time, you're going to have to deal with some truly fucked up consequences. Herald and Bumblebee save the rest of the pioneer family from being killed. But afterward, the racist pioneer calls Herald a derogatory name and he's all, "Their remarks were offensive as hell!" And Bumblebee's response is, "You've become so political since you reached legal drinking age." What the fuck kind of response is that?! How is not wanting to be called a racial slur political?! And why the fuck would turning twenty-one make any difference?! Maybe it would make more sense if I knew anything about Herald and Bumblebee. I think they were important to the Titans in the early series which I never read. Meanwhile, dinosaurs are rampaging around Seattle's Capitol Hill district. And then Hero X, a Team Titan, gets eaten by a pterodactyl. I feel like it's supposed to be a funny moment but the laughs from the laugh track are missing and, I mean, a character just died. And that shouldn't be funny, even if the character was some jerk named Hero X. Unsure what might be happening, Bumblebee and Herald decide to take the Team Titans back to New Jersey to regroup with the other teams.

Ha ha! Automation! Artificial Intelligence hasn't gotten any better in the future if it's coming up with terrible super-hero names like that. Also, not everybody is there, Herald. Have you forgotten about poor Hero X already?!

Ugh. The same boring dinosaur fights around earthquakes with Titans saving people at the last second happens over and over and over again. Finally, Terra says, "I think we were being manipulated like pawns on a chessboard!" And, in the future, Monarch answers her! "Oh, if you only knew the extent of it, Terra! How my confusing and contrived and convoluted plan worked to a tea! Or is that a tee? Oh, fuck it! Who cares?! I am Captain Atom and I will...I mean, I am Hank Hall, also known as Haw, and I now rule the world! I think. How does time work again? Shouldn't my plan have already come to pass since I'm in the future? Why am I the future me that existed before I changed the past and still exist now that I've changed it? No, no! Don't think about it for too long! Just think about the name I'll use after Monarch. It has to be dignified and glorious and intimidating! So far I'm having a tough time picking between Bloodfestor and Extant!" Team Titans #24 Rating: F. What a terrible fucking end to a mostly terrible comic book. And I don't feel like I'm being mean or that my rating would hurt Jeff Jensen's feelings. He's the guy who called his own run on the Team Titans "confusing, contrived, and convoluted!"

#Team Titans #Teen Titans #DC Comics #DC #Comic Book Reviews

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