#this happens most with like responses to questions about how i feel Christianity or something

[caffeinatedopossum]

If you ask me a question and I really struggle to answer it, it's not because I don't know, it's actually because I need to write a 20 page essay on it to convey the intensity of my passion and knowledge about it to you

#if i dont know the answer i just say i dunno which is easy #this happens most with like responses to questions about how i feel Christianity or something #because there are certain blatantly harmful mainstream beliefs but not everyone that calls themselves a Christian #subscribes to those beliefs so i have to like be very very careful and nuanced with explaining it #to make sure everyone knows that religion itself is not the problem it is the people who subscribe to particular harmful beliefs #which just happen to be so mainstream that they are often seen as synonymous with being religious #i just KNOW this shit is infuriating to the Christians who dont hold those beliefs too. like i cant imagine #yall are rare

[ossidae-passeridae]

4. What’s the worst part of fanon? 😈

Question from here

That'd be the implicit racism thanks for asking!

A non snappy response, aka to explain what I mean by that:

A lot of fanon tropes implicitly reinforce a very white, America-centric POV, and in a universe like the GFFA which lies somewhere between heavily Asian-inspired and gloriously multicultural, that really rubs me the wrong way. (To clarify upfront: it is not racist or whatever to enjoy these tropes or to write them, but it worries me when people don't even seem to realise it)

An obvious, innocuous-seeming example is the tendency to use 'Ben' instead of Obi-Wan's actual name in AUs — especially when others' names (Anakin, Mace, Cody, etc) aren't changed as well. The biggest difference between those names and Obi-Wan's is that Obi-Wan's is obviously Asian inspired, and theirs aren't. It's not something I expect most people even think about! But it always leaves a sinking feeling in my chest.

(Obviously if, like in canon, Obi-Wan is using Ben as a pseudonym while in hiding that's a very different kettle of fish.)

A larger example is how incredibly common it is to cast the Jedi as space-Christians — some common examples being focus on tenets (the Jedi Code, which is a meditation mantra, not a rulebook), the pervasive Catholic Guilt which is very explicitly Christian in nature, the emphasis on worship as ritual rather than a state to work towards, the generalised "all organised religion must be Bad" sentiments that feel very specifically ex-Christian in nature.

Thinking about one's own religion and expressing thoughts through fiction/art isn't an issue in and of itself.

The thing is, the Jedi are explicitly based on Asian Buddhists. Not just in set dressing, but from the ground up, from their beliefs and the way they act, to their clothing to the structure of their temple — to strip that away is to remove what makes the Jedi the Jedi. It's to remove the Asian-ness and replace it with something predominantly white. It implies that Asian influence shouldn't or can't exist in the GFFA, or that there's something inferior or wrong about Buddhism that needs to be "fixed".

Again this isn't something where I think that fan authors are sitting there going "muhahaha I'm going to be RACIST today", I know that's not what's happening. But when so much Jedi-centric content being produced minimises the Asian influence and pushes a western one, it starts to say "there's something wrong with this group, we're trying to erase it because there shouldn't be representation at all" — an issue of scale, at its core.

(Then ofc there's all the "the Jedi steal babies" and "the Jedi ban emotions" and "the Jedi need to be destroyed" which, entirely separate from the above, if you replace 'Jedi' with 'Buddhists' I'm kind of starting to wonder why you hate Asian people/Asian religions, you know?)

I won't even get into the fanon surrounding the clones, because that'd require me to talk about KT far more than I'd like to on any day, but especially today 🤣

(All opinions expressed above are solely those of pass e. ridae and do not express the views or opinions of any affiliates or associates, passerine or otherwise)

#dae asks #star wars #jedi order #racism #as always a single person doing x is not the issue #it's the fandom as a whole doing the thing that can make it more :/ #I don't think people can't or shouldn't write what they like #I just ask that they think about it first! I sure do every time I start a new fic

[skaldish]

What would you say to someone that says something like "I'd rather study hard science than believe in myths made by humans"? Obviously it was a conversation about spirituality and religions and this person very clearly has put science in the place of God, but I'm really speechless when something like that happens.

(it might be a bit of a useless question, I apologize)

I guess it depends.

In my experience, most people dig their heels really hard into "science over religion," as a reaction to something that came up inside them.

For people with religious trauma (whether they recognize it as such or not), hearing someone talk about religion can recall the memory of how it felt to have religion overpower them. When someone says something like the statement you mentioned, it's to reinforce their own sense of agency in the face of that bad somatic memory resurfacing.

Even if such statements are intense, they're rarely actually personal; they're a reaction to the memory, not a reaction to the present conversation.

In these situations, I actually reply with something like, "Yeah, I don't blame you. The way Christianity works has major issues." Or say things like, "I mean, whoever believes mythology literally comes from the mouth of the divine clearly doesn't have their head on straight."

I say these things because it helps people get out of that defensive mindset. When it comes down to it, a big reason why a lot of folks are uncomfortable with religious talk is because they've experienced people trying to convert them that way.

But when it becomes clear to them that I'm not wholly uncritical of religion, it opens the door to further discussion about it, especially if the topic moves away from "our individual beliefs" and towards a discussion about the meta of religion and spirituality; how it functions as an anthropological phenomenon.

I've actually had long conversations with atheists about it. Many of them do in fact have thoughts on the matter and will avidly get into it, and it's during these conversations that I'll offer disambiguation about religion and about science as it comes up. And it really just is disambiguation; I'm not actually trying to persuade them of any one thing or another.

Keep in mind though that mileage varies. Even if you were to engage the person you mentioned this way, you may not be able to point out they're just substituting God with science. This would shed light on the fact they're still thinking like a Christian; that even though their thoughts have changed, their pattern of thinking has not. And if they haven't come to terms with the existence of that thought-pattern yet, then the act of pointing this out will only make them mad.

But I think this is where my advice sort of runs dry. It doesn't really feel invalidating of my spirituality for someone to come at me with a hard "science-only" stance. That's because a) I love science, and b) my own spirituality is not based on "having faith" in any way, so challenging my faith doesn't actually do anything because I don't believe in anything without evidence.

When people bank hard into atheism, my reaction is generally, "Well yeah, that's a reasonable response to have to religion kicking the shit out of you." It's only when an atheist is being an asshole to me because I have a spirituality do we have a problem.

#answered

[tiredbuthappy]

New Romantics

A/N: Long awaited, but surprise! I hope you’re all still out there and that you enjoy this, and I'd love to hear any thoughts you may have. Thanks as always to @haterpenny, and gif credit to @iguessricciardo. More will be coming, and I'm hoping to be posting more regularly again! Words 4k

Previous parts linked on Masterlist

You were seated in the Barcelona press room, sharing the room with two Formula One World Champions- Sebastian Vettel and Lewis Hamilton. You glanced nervously at the pitcher of water on the table, your fingers drumming away as you waited for it to officially begin. You were certain there would be some incredibly uncomfortable questions aimed at you, and you were grateful to have Seb beside you. 

Back in Miami you had received a rather firm talking to from Christian, and your talk with Carlos had certainly not been pleasant either. of course Carlos understood that your heart truly lied with Daniel, and he bowed out rather gracefully. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in your chest as you thought back on the conversation. 

“It’s Daniel, isn’t it?” Carlos had questioned, his strong brow furrowed in thought. You pursed your lips and tried to think of the best way to phrase your feelings. 

“Carlos, I… I care about you, a lot- I really do. I have been honest with you every step of the way and I think you’re an incredible man. But you deserve someone who is ready to commit to you fully. And I’m so grateful for the time we’ve gotten to spend together. I don’t know if I ever would have figured out how I felt without you.” You told him sincerely, albeit a bit clumsily. You searched his eyes, nervously anticipating his response. A small, sad smiled worked its way over his lips. 

“It’s okay. I knew this might happen, but I had to try.” He answered simply. 

“I just would really like to be friends. I understand if that’s asking too much, but I’ll always be here for you.” You said somewhat hopefully, looking at him with an expression you were hoping he couldn’t say no to. 

“Yes, of course. Of course, we can be friends. I’m here for you too.” He assured you, seeming as genuine as ever. You let out a sigh of relief and pulled him into a hug. It felt like a weight had lifted off of you, even with the media shitstorm you found yourself in the middle of. 

You were brought back to the present when Lewis started speaking beside you, answering a question that you hadn’t paid attention to. Based on his response you assumed it was something about the incoming Mercedes upgrades. You were pretty uncomfortable, fidgeting a bit in your seat as you waited for the inevitable questions you would get about your current romantic situation. You chewed on your lip as you heard your name echo through the speakers. 

You glanced up and put on your pageant smile, hoping that the question would be about the car. Or the race. Or hell, even your ‘rivalry’ with Hamilton. 

“We’ve all seen the photos circulating in the press,” The ‘journalist’ began, causing you to groan internally.  

“Do you think that is the reason women are not taken seriously in Formula 1? And I can’t help but ask- who do you have your sights set on next?” The man asked, a smug grin on his face. He looked rather proud of himself, and you thought your jaw may break from how tightly it was clenched. 

“Sorry, but if I could interject,” Seb began, raising his hand to stop you from saying anything. 

“But what the fuck kind of question is that?” Sebastian said candidly, catching you and the rest of the room by surprise. Hamilton just sighed deeply beside you, and you turned just in time to see him roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, mate, that’s a bad look. Would you ask anyone else on the grid that question?” He asked, shaking his head as though embarrassed for the man. You felt some warmth spread through your chest at two of the most recognizable names in Formula One coming to your defense. Your two colleagues that you looked up to perhaps more than any others. You glanced between the two men and leaned towards the microphone. 

“Does that answer your question?” You couldn’t help but quirk your brow, returning the attitude. There was a bit of a response among the crowd of people, mixed snickers and chuckles as the next question was posed. 

Thankfully after that, no one dared to ask anymore about your personal life. At the end of the presser you pulled the two other drivers aside and thanked them for their help. Sebastian wasn’t much concerned about the possibility of garnering his own bad press, but seeing them circle around you made his blood boil. He had been looking out for you for years and it seemed he had no plans of stopping any time soon.

Lewis clasped a hand to your shoulder and gave you a reassuring smile. 

“Look, that’s never okay. If they keep throwing that kind of shit at you, let us know.It’s no ones business but your own. Just remember to breathe, yeah?” He said, bringing back those memories from the night of the Miami GP party where he had come to the rescue. 

“Guys- thank you. Christian’s been giving me a hard time and this is just the last thing I need right now. So thank you, again. It means a lot.” Lewis nodding understandingly and reiterated that he was there if you needed him before he was ducking out. 

“I think you have the healthiest rivalry I’ve ever seen.” Seb commented as the pair of you walked towards the hospitality tent, eager to sneak in some lunch before getting back to the simulator and training. 

“And what did you mean- Christian’s been giving you a hard time? Do you need me to talk to him?” And there Seb went, being Seb again. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your cheeks.

“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” You assured him, holding the door for the pair of you. 

“Yeah, I know, I know. Still, the offer stands.” He told you and you thanked him once again. You settled at a table and went through your phone for the first time since the conference. There was already a few articles online about the drama, one entitled Bless Sebastian Vettel, and another that said Hamilton and Vettel Call Out Misogyny in Motorsport. When they did it, it made headlines. When you did it, you were labeled as ungrateful. You rolled your eyes at the hypocrisy of it all, but were glad they were there to support you nonetheless. 

The truth of the matter was that motorsport was still very much a man’s game. A game that you happened to be winning at the moment, much to the chagrin of many. Your current romantic life was just the latest in a string of small incidents blown far out of proportion. 

Along with all of those fun notifications you had a text waiting from Daniel. 

Big Dick Ricc: Lunchies? 

Y/N: Sure, at the tent now. Seb too. 

You replied, letting him know it wouldn’t just be a cozy meal for two. He gave your message the love react and you assumed he’d be over shortly. 

The two of you had decided to keep your relationship as under wraps as possible. Sure there was loads of speculation, but you didn’t feel comfortable confirming things just yet. It was all still new for you and Daniel and you wanted more of an opportunity to be familiar with the new parameters of your relationship before putting yourselves on blast. 

“Cool if Daniel joins us?” You asked Seb, flashing a little smile. 

“Of course. So- I can’t not ask. Are you two finally..?” He questioned, eyes narrowed. You inhaled through your teeth, already preparing yourself for whatever fatherly advice Seb was about to impart. 

“Yeah, we finally decided to stop being idiots.” You replied, taking what you hoped would be the words right out of his mouth. 

“It’s about time. Seriously though, I’m happy for you. Daniel’s a good one- and probably just now mature enough to handle a real relationship.” You laughed at that. Daniel was quite a few years older than you, but something told you Seb was right. Hell, just admitting his feelings for you had taken nearly an entire year. 

“Yeah, I’m happy. This season has been my hardest yet. And when those pictures got out- I wanted to die. I’ve been so careful trying to blend in and make as few waves as possible… but I don’t think I care anymore.” You decided with a shrug. Seb smiled widely at that. 

“That’s my girl.” You rolled your eyes, and tried to look annoyed, but you couldn’t hide your grin. 

Then Daniel was approaching in that blinding papaya color, his big, equally-blinding smile on display. You felt little butterflies flutter through you at the sight of him, but tried your best to look casual. There may still be media lurking about, and while you were determined not to care about what they wrote about you, that didn’t mean you needed to make it easy for them to find material. 

He grabbed the seat beside you and nodded his hi’s to you and Seb. 

“How was the presser?” He asked obliviously, his bright demeanor unchanged. Seb glanced at you, allowing you to take the lead. 

“It was… rough. Luckily I had some help.” You replied truthfully, causing a crack in Dan’s good mood. 

“The pictures?” He asked with concern in his expression, as though it could be something else. 

“Yeah. Fortunately Seb and Lewis really shut it down. So it definitely could have been worse.” You told him, your mind reeling at the thought of what May happen in Dan’s press conference. 

“I’ll be right back.” You said, raising from your seat and giving Dan’s shoulder a little squeeze as you snuck past and headed towards the bathroom for a moment to breathe.

————————————————————

Seb and Dan watched as you walked away, and suddenly Daniel was acutely aware of the fact that the two of them were alone. Sebastian wasted no time before breaking the silence. 

“Are you going to take this seriously?” He asked, catching Dan a bit by surprise. Daniel furrowed his brow and looked at the more seasoned driver, a bit confused by the question. 

“She has a whole lot more at stake than you do.” Sebastian continued on, hoping Dan may be able to catch up. 

“Yeah, I’m- I’m taking it seriously.” Dan replied, doing his best to assure him with serious eyes and a nod for confirmation. 

“Just make her happy. Treat her right.” Seb said, his eyes piercing Daniel’s. 

“I love her.” Dan replied simply, yet sincerely. He held Seb’s gaze, not one to be intimidated. Seb smiled just slightly and nodded. 

“Good.” 

————————————————————

You returned from the bathroom and picked up on the weird vibes at the table, your brow quirking at Daniel inquisitively. He shook his head minutely and you decided to let it go. 

The three of you shared a pleasant and uneventful lunch, which you were grateful for. The drama had begun to seem never-ending recently, and a meal shared with your favorite people was just the kind of break you needed from the media circus you constantly seemed to find yourself in the middle of. 

You blushed as Seb recounted a story about one of your W-Series races from years ago, embarrassed by how aggressive he made you sound. Another driver had fought you for the inside line and edged you off the track- although you swore the advantage was clearly yours. You crashed and hopped out of your car in seconds, arms flailing in search of a penalty for the other driver before your threw your gloves to the ground and stormed off towards your garage. 

“She was worse than Schumacher- I swear. Really intimidating stuff.” Seb said, making Dan’s chest rumble with laughter, his head thrown back as he imagined the scene that had been so vividly described to him. 

“Okay, okay. I was a kid… and that was my line.” You defended, aiming your fork in his direction. Daniel looked over at you adoringly, a wide smile stretched across his face. 

“We call her Trouble for a reason.” Daniel agreed, an elbow shoved playfully into your side. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at their good-natured teasing. You did your best to hide the smile tugging at your lips but found yourself failing. 

“Alright, alright. I think that’s enough.” You said with a chuckle. Dan and Seb looked amused, until Seb glanced at his phone. 

“Shit- I’ve got to go.” He murmured, before looking up to meet your gaze. 

“I’m happy for you two, really.” He told you, sure to speak lowly enough that no one else would hear. You thanked him and smiled warmly as Dan used all of his self-control to not slip his arm around you. Then Seb was wandering off, and you hoped it wouldn’t be long before the three of you shared another meal. 

“I’ve got to go, too. Conference is about to start.” Dan told you. 

“Good luck. It was brutal.” You warned, forcing a sad looking smile to your lips. 

“Yeah- we need to talk about that. I’ll come to your room tonight and we can have dinner.” He said, although it really was more of a question. You agreed and gave him a very casual-looking hug before he was off. You felt another wave of butterflies ripple through you, nervous about what kind of questions they may throw his way. 

It was no secret that Daniel wasn’t having the best season, and you knew he tormented himself over it far more than the media ever could. Adding your personal drama into the mix seemed like a perfect recipe for disaster. 

You scurried off to the Red Bull garage and worked in the simulator for a bit before finally calling it a day and heading back to your room. You stayed off your phone, desperate to have a break from the constant chaos that each notification seemed to bring. 

Still, you were anxious about how Daniel’s conference had gone. 

Finally after taking a shower and some time to decompress you grabbed your phone. Again- there were nearly  fifty notifications waiting for you. A specific one from Twitter caught your eye. 

Daniel Ricciardo And Carlos Sainz Silence Reporters Amid Love Triagnle Rumors 

You clicked the link and it felt as though your phone took an eternity to load. Finally you were watching a video clip of Daniel, his signature goofy grin spread across his face. He sat between Carlos and Mick. Of course, Carlos had to be there. Any whiff of drama had to be fully milked.

A journalist stood and asked their question. 

“Daniel- apart from your surprise podium, this year has been rather disappointing. Do you think your personal life is keeping you from performing to the best of your abilities?”

Daniel’s smile faltered, but only slightly. Ever the professional, he carefully spoke through his response. 

“Joining a new team- there’s always growing pains. I’m doing everything I can to be the best I can be. My personal life is personal- I don’t bring it on the track.” Honestly, it was a much better answer than you would have given. Still, it didn’t prepare you for what came next. 

“Do you believe Y/N is setting a bad example for women in motorsport? And what’s it like sharing her with Sainz?” The reporter asked, surely a brow quirked in villainous delight. You know they were just trying to get a rise out of Daniel, but it didn’t make their words sting any less.

Now Daniel had lost his smile entirely. Mick looked like a deer caught in headlights, while Carlos had his jaw clenched. 

“Honestly, she’s the most accomplished female driver in the history of motorsport. She’s going to be a multi- champion. Which is something most of her male colleagues can’t achieve. The fact that these questions are being asked shows what’s wrong with this sport and why there aren’t more women here. I won’t be discussing this again.” Hearing him speak so firmly and seriously started a little spark in your belly. Once Daniel finished, Carlos spoke. 

“I also want to say that I won’t be discussing Y/N at all. She’s an incredible person and an incredible driver and the way she’s been treated is wrong.” The room fell quiet but you could see Dan and Carlos exchange a quick look of mutual understanding. 

You were distracted from the video as you heard a knock at your door. You tossed your phone onto the big plush bed and checked the peephole. 

You opened the door and Daniel came casually walking through, a big smile once more on his cheeks. You didn’t much feel like smiling though. One look at you and his expression fell. 

“I know- it was a shit day. But the worst of it is over.” Dan looked like he had more to say, but the way your lip quivered silenced his thoughts. 

“Hey, hey. Come here,” He told you soothingly, taking you in his arms and immediately carding his fingers through your hair.

“They’re never going to take me seriously- they’ll never want me here. Why am I doing this?” The anguish in your voice truly alarmed him. He had seen you feel down before, but this time it felt different. 

“C’mon, don’t talk like that. Fuck them! They’re all- fuckers!” He finally decided, his mind refusing to find him another adequate word. You chuckled slightly, looking up at him through bleary eyes. 

“Anyone who knows anything about this sport knows why you’re here. Everyone else is just trying to start shit because you’re different. You’re beating Lewis, you’re beating Sebastian- you’re even beating me- the best F1 driver of all time.” He said that last bit sarcastically, and you really did laugh. 

“You’ve never cared what people thought before. Why start now?” You carefully considered his words. He was right, you’d spent your whole career laughing in the face of those that doubted you. 

You nodded at him and wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. He gently tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. 

“I love you. I’m here for you.” He assured you before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You couldn’t help but think about how lucky you had gotten to have him beside you. Daniel seemed to know just the right thing to say to make you feel better. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, your chest shaking slightly with the effort. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I don’t know why things have been getting to me so much. But it doesn’t matter what I do, they’ll always find something to hate about me.” 

“So do whatever you want, fuck ‘em all.” The way he believed in you made you feel powerful. You chewed on the side of your lip, the wheels in your mind suddenly turning. 

“Yeah. You’re right. Fuck ‘em. Let’s go public.” You said, shrugging as his eyes widened at your words. Going public was a huge step. You had barely “officially” been together a week or so, and having even more attention on you seemed daunting to say the least. Still, Daniel was smiling and nodding his agreement. 

“Let’s let them know, Sugar.” He said, his forehead gently meeting yours before he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze as the meaning behind your words settled in the air. 

The next morning you awoke to a stomach tangled in knots, though the nerves lessened when your eyes found Daniel’s peaceful form beside you. You pressed a light kiss to his forehead and crawled out of bed before digging through the clothes you had packed. 

You peeked over at Dan and caught his tired eyes blinking at you in slight confusion. 

“Is that your new merch?” He asked, his voice groggy and his curls unruly from sleep. 

“Yup. I’ve got an idea.” You told him, a smile too lovely for him to look away from etched across your face. 

You arrived at the track shortly thereafter, you in Daniel’s Enchanté merch and him in your newest collection. It would have been impossible to look like bigger fan’s of each other. Your hands securely held one-another’s as you walked through security, a bit of excitement bubbling within you to be so forward about your relationship status for once. 

Soon, you were very aware of the stares and cameras that followed the two of you through the paddock and you turned your gaze to Daniel to keep yourself calm. The tender way in which his hand held yours and the soft smile that graced his lips was more than enough to reassure you that you were making the right decision. 

You wore a pair of sunglasses and hoped that they were dark enough to hide the minor panic you felt as the media tried to interject their questions into your morning walk. 

“Are you finally coming out as a couple?” A journalist asked, a hopeful smile spread across his face at the prospect of being the first to confirm the story. With a quick glance exchanged between Dan and yourself you were agreeing. 

“I finally wore her down.” Daniel said, a goofy grin across his lips. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that confirmed his comment. 

“So it’s official?” Another journalist asked, clamoring to join the pack of cameras that were quickly growing around the pair of you. 

“Yes, we’re together. Now, how about we go racing?” You questioned with your brow quirked, hoping that this would finally shift the narrative surrounding you to be about your career, rather than your personal life. You fed the vultures, so perhaps they would just let you be.  

You waltzed past the Red Bulll garage, nodding your greeting to a mildly flustered Christian Horner that looked onward with crossed arms. 

You headed into the driver’s meeting, it was a brief that you all had before each race. George usually spoke as he was the Director of the GPDA. 

You exchanged an uncertain look with Daniel before slipping your sunglasses down and dropping his hand. His touch shifted to the small of your back, his eyes staring daggers at any driver that dare comment on your relationship revelation. You settled into chairs at the back of the room, an awkward cough serving as the only thing that filled the silence. 

“Yeah, alright, I’ll go. What the hell is going on with you two?” Of course, Lando broke the silence, turning all the way around in his seat to look at you and Daniel. 

“We’re dating. Okay?” You said, although you couldn’t help the way your eyes glanced in Carlos’ direction. You knew you had made the right choice, but you didn’t want to hurt him or rub it in. His gaze seemed to be focused on anything other than you. 

“And where did this come from? When did-”

“That’s not why we’re here.” Seb said before you had the opportunity to give Lando the finger. He really was like your little brother- you hated him but of course you loved him just the same. He had that annoyed look on his face, an exaggerated eye roll as he returned his attention to George who stood and shifted uncomfortably at the front of the room. Seb shot a wink your way before turning around as well. 

“Anyway,” George finally began, but you didn’t listen to a word he said. Instead, you were far more focused on the careful way that Daniel’s hand reached for yours. 

He leaned over and whispered lowly. 

“It’s official. You’re mine.” Your felt goosebumps spread across your skin. 

You had your man- now it was time to take the championship home with you. 

Tags:

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[jessicalprice]

it was about right then and it’s still about right now

(reposted from Twitter)

(Image: a Tweet by @ ErinGreenbean that says: “Most of Jesus’ parables confront the listener with moving away from self-sufficiency/individualism and toward the whole/community.”)

This is literally what like every Jew who reads the parables has been trying to tell you,  but y'all keep insisting these stories are about how Judaism is bad.

These are stories from a teacher addressing an audience suffering under a brutal and exploitative occupation and they're literally about "you know how the Torah tells us to take care of each other? if we're gonna survive, we have to do that."

We have a text that uses the language of divine kingship frequently to convey a moral imperative if God is truly your leader, you will follow these laws. Jesus talks about the "kingdom of God" and Christians are like HE IS TALKING ABOUT THE AFTERLIFE. 

No, he's fucking talking about a community that existed in his here and now and was suffering and desperate and being militarily and economically and socially pressured to abandon their principles and exploit each other as they were being exploited by the Romans.

And he's reminding them that while the Romans may be occupying them, they don't have to rule them. Resisting hegemony and not letting it reshape you always involves, in a way, creating and choosing to occupy a different reality. 

In a society that--to use the language of the time, which I will be upfront that I do NOT like--acknowledges God as king, no one starves unless literally everyone is starving, because there are laws insisting that we share. Like, that's the whole point of every Jewish law touching on economics: what we have, even if it doesn't feel like much, can be enough when we understand that we are enough for each other. That’s there in the lost sheep, coin, and son(s) parables: you don't leave anyone behind.

There's the two men on the road to Jericho: The Samaritans are actually our family. We remembered that once, when they put Jewish prisoners on donkeys and sent them home with wine and oil. We have to take care of each other.

Then the men named above proceeded to take the captives in hand, and with the booty they clothed all the naked among them—they clothed them and shod them and gave them to eat and drink and anointed them and provided donkeys for all who were failing and brought them to Jericho, the city of palms, back to their kinsmen. Then they returned to Samaria. (II Chronicles 28:15)

All of these stories are about remembering that we're supposed to be family and taking care of each other and upholding a society that's an alternative to the hegemonic Roman war machine. And then Christian exegesis is all: how do we make these stories about how being Jewish is bad? We're in a whole different millennium and y'all are still insisting that Judaism was the problem Jesus came to solve.

Jesus tells a trilogy of stories about noticing when you've lost track of someone or something and Christians are like, "This must be a story about how Judaism hates the idea of accepting someone's repentance." 

Excuse me while I go build a menorah constructed of middle fingers.

Jesus tells a story about the relationship between two men in the Temple in which the real question is What does each of them do next and what is their responsibility to each other? and Christians are like this is about how the tax collector is good and the Pharisee is bad.

Y'all want so badly to make these stories about an us vs. them when the focus of most of them is just about "how can we do better as an 'us'?"

Like look at the parable of the four fates for seeds--what was actually happening to most of the harvest was that people were taking it, but Jesus puts it in terms of natural phenomena to take focus off that and put it on the hardship itself.

Most of the time, when there is an implied "them" to the "us" he's focused on, he tries to portray it as if it's inevitable/natural/etc. 

The focus isn't on "what are they doing to us?" 

It's on "what are we doing FOR each other?"

And you know what we know now, what we have terms and framing and concepts for? We know that in the wake of disaster, human beings get really good at caring for each other. We suck at being a society when things are good, but if a monsoon hits? We fucking get to work. 

But you know what got documented in heartbreaking detail after the Exxon Valdez spill? When the disaster is human-caused, communities tend to fall apart.

So what's the difference? 

Well, we can frame it in terms of human-created versus natural disasters but we can also frame it in terms of the victims' response.

It seems like, if we feel like it wasn't anyone's fault, it was just chance or nature or whatever, we get energized to take care of each other. If, on the other hand, we feel like it was someone's fault, we fracture.

Now, I don't think people around the Mediterranean in the first century CE were thinking in terms of disaster trauma or spontaneous prosocial behavior, but that doesn't mean they weren't thinking about what to focus on when they were suffering. 

To be honest, I don't see a consistent through-line in 100% of Jesus's parables. I don't even believe that all of the parables attributed to him were actually his, if he even existed as portrayed. But I do see a through-line in most of them. And that through-line is a direction of attention toward the needs of others and away from blame. And I genuinely believe that was because he was trying to keep his community whole and hopeful.

And it's ironic to me that even supposedly progressive Christian interpreters are still sitting there being like "he as calling out problems with Judaism.”

No, he was doing exactly the opposite.

#judaism #jewish readings of the new testament #jewish parables #good samaritan #antisemitism #christian exegesis #prodigal son #pharisee and tax collector #why can't christians just do their own thing and leave jews and judaism alone #jumblr

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

I want to share something that I haven't told most people. At least not in detail. Maybe it will just end up being a shout into the void. But I hope that maybe it'll help someone who went through something similar or who is questioning their church.

My family was always Christian, but we rarely went to church. When I was in...maybe 5th grade? I got invited to a Christian youth group. For the first time, I started hearing about what the Bible said about specific topics, not just generic lessons. The pastors told us how

We were all sinful and evil.

We were all more aware of what we did than we thought, so a lot of "accidents" were intentional sins.

Even babies and toddlers sinned.

Jesus was the only one who could save people...so anyone who had never heard of him or who didn't believe in him went to Hell. But they didn't say how someone could be saved....they just talked a lot about how sinful we were.

Every sin was equal, so if we told a lie or disobeyed our parents, it was just as bad as of we had murdered someone. And as for obedience to our parents, a pastor once said in response to whether kids needed to obey their parents in everything, "Jesus' father told Him to die, and he did it."

The Bible was always right, so if we questioned it, we were evil.

Now, you need to understand that as horrible as all of this sounds, it was communicated in a gentle tone. Before and after lessons, there would be snacks. Pastors would play games with kids, like dodgeball or basketball. It made the lessons more insidious because kids are less likely to question the adults who are also forming positive associations with them.

By the time I was old enough to move to the next youth group, I was 100% convinced that the youth group leaders were right. That I was evil. In this group, they didn't just tell us how sinful we were and how we needed to turn to Christ (but again, not what way we could do that), they screamed it at us.

I don't remember a whole lot of specific sermons, but one that stands out is the pastor saying how this woman he talked to clearly wasn't a Christian because Christians should want to die to go to Heaven and this woman wasn't ready to die.

I became deeply traumatized. I stayed awake some nights crying because of lies I'd told in Kindergarten. I became convinced I was irreedemable...but then felt guilty, because wasn't that doubting that Jesus could save me somehow? I started yelling at my friends, repeating the sermons I'd heard, because I didn't want them to go to Hell. I'm not proud of that. I wish I'd been strong enough to see through the gaslighting, but I wasn't.

Even when my parents realized what was happening, I didn't have anyone sitting down to talk to me about it. I was just yelled at for believing it, so it took me years to break the conditioning.

I'm posting this because I've heard other churches express beliefs similar to the youth group, so I don't think this group was an anomaly. If what I described sounds familiar, please start to question what your church is telling you. Leave. Church should not leave you feeling drained of any self-esteem and terrified to question.

#Christianity #Church #Cults

[karahalloway]

Sleepless in New York: Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: Drake locates Christian... but that doesn't mean his night's over.

Word Count: 6,600

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Apologies this took sooo long to get out! I started working on this chapter back in November, but I got stuck several times, then I went to chase the shiny butterfly that was Polo!, and then I was busy collaborating on the Mardi Gras Mayhem fic. But... after much ado, here is the (long-awaited!) chapter! Hope it meets expectations!

A/N2: A day early, but this is also my submission for the Choices April Challenge. This chapter would fall under the ‘Just want to be with you’.

Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night

Ten minutes later, I'm standing at the St. George Ferry Terminal on Staten Island, wearing a standard-issue NYPD leather jacket (courtesy of O'Sullivan), scanning the disembarking passengers, on the lookout for Chris.

I chew the inside of my mouth nervously as I feel my foot tap against the polished concrete floor.

Time is everything right now, and unfortunately, I don’t have much of it in the bank.

I can only hope that Hayley hasn’t had a chance to post the photo yet. Because if she has, then it’s only a matter of time before someone recognises Chris and blows up the carefully faked narrative of his whereabouts.

And then all bets are off...

Because even if we manage to make it back to Cordonia without any nasty surprises, chances are good that the paps will twist even the most innocent selfie into some kind of dig about Chris and his fitness to rule. While a snap of him getting kissed by an American girl days before the start of the social season where he is supposed to choose a wife...? There’s only one way that’s gonna end. With him smack bang in the middle of a scandal that we definitely don’t need right now.

And hence my one rule for this trip — no fuckin' photos.

Not that anyone ever listens to me...

Thankfully, I don't have to wait long. At this time of night, the ferry is basically empty and the terminal deserted.

The automatic doors in front of me whoosh open and I catch sight of Chris, holding hands with Hayley, laughing at something she'd just said.

My gut tightens.

I've never seen him happier.

But unfortunately for my best friend, this impromptu escapade's about to get shut down.

"Pleasant trip?" I ask, striding up to them.

Chris throws his head up in surprise. "Drake?"

"You're a cop?" gasps Hayley in disbelief.

I follow her gaze to the NYPD insignia patched onto the jacket's sleeve. "Heh. No. This ain't mine."

"Then how did y—?"

"Put two-and-two together?" I ask dryly, deliberately sidestepping the question she’s actually asking. "Simple maths."

Chris' shoulders drop as he lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I guess I am rather predictable..."

"Good thing, too," I drawl. "Otherwise I'd've had to call in the cavalry, and then we'd be having a very different kind of conversation."

Hayley's widen. "The caval—? You mean the FBI? Is that what you are?"

I suppress a snort. Seriously? The second time in just as many nights? Maybe I should drop my resumé off at Quantico...

"No," I reply simply before shifting my focus back to Chris.

"I am sorry," he sighs, catching fully onto my meaning. "I didn't intend to cause a ruckus. I honestly thought we could get here and back before anyone noticed."

"You know you could've just said the word, and we would've made this happen, right?" I ask. "There was no need for you to cut and run like that."

"To be fair, this was all quite spur of the moment, wasn't it?" he admits, sneaking a glance at Hayley, who blushes in response. "We were just talking back at the club, and I happened to mention that we never got to see the Statue of Liberty this morning... To which Hayley admitted to always having wanted to take a night-time ferry tour... And all of a sudden, one thing led to another, and—"

"Yeah, I get it," I interject. "And I don't blame you for doing it. But next time, leave your phone on. Regardless of whatever kind of BS Leo tries to sell you." I fix him with a pointed look.

Chris has the good graces to flush embarrassedly. "Duly noted."

Hayley shakes her head. "But his phone was—"

"And speaking of phones..." adds O'Sullivan, strolling up with a half-eaten Boston Cream donut in his hand, "I'm going to have to ask you to hand yours over, ma'am."

Hayley's mouth drops open. "My phone?"

"Yes, ma'am," O'Sullivan affirms, popping the rest of the donut into his mouth.

"What is the meaning of this, officer?" demands Chris, moving in front of a shocked Hayley.

"Chris..." I warn in a low voice. "Back off."

He throws me a disbelieving look. "But—"

"We have reason to believe that the device contains information pertinent to a matter under investigation," O'Sullivan clarifies.

Chris reels back. "What investigation?"

"A joint investigation," comes the stone-faced reply.

Hayley's face drains of colour.

I shake my head. Christ, O'Sullivan can be a bastard when he wants to be.

But the situation can’t be helped.

There are sensitive pictures of Chris and Hayley on that device that cannot be allowed to see the light of day. And despite the fact that O'Sullivan’s skirting a very dangerous line right now, we have to sacrifice one form of privacy to protect another.

Because even though O'Sullivan’s an NYPD officer, sworn to uphold the laws of the Empire State, he’s also duty bound to look out for his principle. So, he offered to play bad cop. In part because he actually is a cop.

He turns back to Hayley. "Were you aboard the recently docked Staten Island Ferry?"

Chris heaves an exasperated sigh. "How is that—?"

O'Sullivan ignores him. "Answer the question, ma'am."

"Yes," squeaks Hayley.

"Damn it, Drake!" snaps Chris. "Do something!"

"Can't, buddy..." I inform him flatly. "Don't have jurisdiction here, remember?"

"So, you're just going to let him—?"

"Impeding a police officer from carrying out their public duties is a criminal offence," I point out, folding my arms. "So, I suggest you let the man do his job."

Chris glares at me.

But he’s gonna have to suck it up.

Because he got himself into this avoidable mess as a result of his impulsiveness and complete disregard for our standard security protocols. So, now it’s my job to clean up after him.

Regardless of how it makes him — or Hayley — feel.

"While onboard, did you take photographs with a cellular device?" continues O'Sullivan.

Hayley's basically quaking in her boots. "Yes, but—"

"And in the course of taking such photographs, did you—?"

"—but, I didn't use my phone!"

The intensity of Hayley's outburst catches everyone off guard.

I shake my head. "Then what—?"

"She used my phone," explains Chris tersely. "To take a picture of me with the Statue of Liberty in the background... so I could commemorate the once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"But she—"

"—may have taken a few additional pictures as well," admits Chris with a self-conscious smile, as his eyes finds Hayley again. "Somewhat spontaneously, I'll admit, but—"

"None on hers?" I press.

Chris lifts his eyes to mine steadfastly. "No. Her phone stayed in her purse the whole time. So, whatever it is that you are accusing her of, she did at my behest and therefore should be relieved of any and all responsibility."

I feel the tension in my shoulders unwind slightly. Some goddamn common sense, at last!

But Chris isn’t off the hook yet...

"Did you share any pictures with her?" I ask.

"He tried," Hayley admits. "But for some reason, there was no signal on the ferry."

I let out an explosive breath. Thank Christ for that signal jammer!

Never thought I'd actually be thanking Leo for anything. But here we are...

Hayley is still glaring at us. "Well, aren't you going to ask to see his phone, then? Seeing as you're so concerned about... whatever it is that you're concerned about?"

I glance at Chris. She's got a point...

He pulls out his phone with a nod of acknowledgment, knowing we have to continue playing this game for the sake of his cover. "Here you are, officer."

Taking it, O'Sullivan makes a bit of a show of flipping through Chris' camera roll before handing the device back. "Thank you, sir. Looks like we got bad intel. None of the images contain anything pertinent to our investigation." He throws me a dirty look.

I shrug. Shit happens.

But the important thing is that we’re in the clear... and my ass is no longer on the line.

"So... that's it? asks Hayley cautiously. "We're free to go?"

"Not quite," I admit, meeting Chris' eye.

He drops his gaze in resignation before turning to Hayley. "As delightful as this spontaneous outing has been, I am afraid we must call it a night."

Her mouth falls open. "Just like that?"

"Unfortunately so," he confirms, lifting her hand gently to his lips. "But believe me when I say that you made my night, Hayley."

A blush rises to her cheeks. "I don't know about that..."

"Truly," he asserts, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. "I am forever grateful..."

"Jesus, I'm about to get diabetes..." huffs O'Sullivan under his breath.

I elbow him in the ribs.

"...and as a small token of my appreciation, I hope you would allow us to escort you home," finishes Chris with a meaningful look in my direction.

I can't help but scoff. Well played, buddy. Well played.

But I guess I owe him one after gatecrashing his date the way I have. And let's face it — we can’t exactly leave the girl stranded on the wrong side of the Hudson without a safe way to get home. So, we might as well kill two birds with one stone.

"Sure," I concede. "She can ride back with us."

"In your drea—"

O'Sullivan grunts as I nail him in the side again.

"Oh, you really don't have t—" demurs Hayley.

"But I want to," insists Chris, turning the full force of his emerald gaze on her.

She wilts under his sincerity with a blush. "Well, in that case..."

"What the hell, Walker?" hisses O'Sullivan under his breath as Chris offers his arm to Hayley to lead her from the ferry terminal. "Finding your missing prince is one thing, but you can't just go around handing out free rides to civilians like—"

"Trust me," I reply quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'll make it worth your while."

He snorts. "I already paid for the donuts."

"This is a bit more substantial than some Dunkin's," I assure him.

"Better be," he declares. "Kerosene ain't cheap, Lieutenant."

I throw my head up. "You've done your homework."

"What can I say?" he shrugs with a smirk. "I'm good at my job."

"And if you've read my file," I reply, recovering quickly, "you'll know that I am too."

"Seeing is believing, Walker," O'Sullivan reminds me as we exit the terminal hot on Chris and Hayley's heels.

I roll my eyes. "Hardass..."

But, I can understand his scepticism. This is the first time the two of us have officially worked together, and in this job, trust doesn’t come easy, or cheap.

So, I’m gonna let his attitude slide.

Hayley stumbles to a stop in front of us. "Why is there a—?"

"Had to get here somehow..."

Her jaw drops as she turns to gape at me. "So, you flew in a helicopter?"

"Faster than swimming," I tell her with a shrug.

Hayley stares at me like I was insane.

"And it's not waiting for stragglers, so if you want a lift, you'd better move it," prompts O'Sullivan, striding past her towards the idling chopper.

"Hold on. He's coming with us?" asks Hayley in disbelief.

"It's his bird," I shout over the roar of the rotor blades. "So, yeah."

"His—?" Her eyes widen. "Wait. Are you guys... arresting us?"

I fix her with a pointed look. "See any handcuffs?"

"Then why are we getting into a helicopter with a cop!" she demands, stubbornly throwing the breaks on a few feet from the aircraft.

"Because he's doing us a favour," I explain with a sigh. "So if you—"

"No!" she protests. "Not until you tell me who the hell you are! Because if you're not cops and you're not FBI then—"

Chris steps assuringly up to her. "Hayley. There is nothing nefarious underfoot. I promise. We are simply—"

"Diplomats," I interject quickly, not 100% confident that Chris won't choose this moment to come clean about who he really is. "From Europe."

"Diplomats?" queries Hayley, eyeing the two of us uncertainly.

"Here on an unofficial, turn-and-burn visit," I confirm. It’s basically the truth. The best lies always are.

"Unofficial?" she frowns. "You mean secret?"

"You make it sound much more suspenseful than it in fact is," chuckles Chris, holding a hand out to help her into the ‘copter.

"But we are trying to keep a low profile," I remind them.

She mulls over our responses. "So, that cop—?"

"Doing us a favour, like I said."

"What's the holdup, boys?" shouts O'Sullivan from the cockpit.

"Nothing!" I holler back over my shoulder as Hayley finally climbs in...

...while simultaneously throwing a hand out to intercept Chris as he's about to follow suit.

He meets my eye quizzically.

"Not with that kit in your pocket, buddy," I tell him. "I've had more than enough excitement for one night."

His brows furrow. "Isn't it just—?"

"It can down the chopper," I reply flatly, holding out my hand.

Chris pales. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he quickly palms me the signal jammer without further protest.

Killing the power to the device, I pocket it and hop in after Chris.

"'Bout time, Walker," observes O'Sullivan dryly as I pull the door closed.

Securing the hatch, I flick my middle finger 'round, giving O'Sullivan the go to take off while simultaneously flipping him off.

He throws his head back with a laugh as he relays the instructions to Hendricks.

The pilot revs the throttle, and we start to lift into the air.

Dropping into the seat across from Chris, I pull the seatbelt on as I fire off a quick text to Schweitzer to let him know that we were inbound back to the hotel. Stowing the device, I pull the headset on just in time to hear Hayley's gasp over the intercom.

Glancing up, I see her latched onto Chris, eyeing the rapid retreat of the terra firma with a confused mix of emotions on her face.

Chris's voice crackles over the intercom. "Exciting, isn't it?"

She swallows hard, tightening her hold on his arm. "You... you could say that..."

His face clouds with concern. "Do you... suffer from acrophobia by any chance?"

"W-what?" she stammers, glancing back at him nervously.

"Acrophobia," he repeats. "Fear of heights."

She shakes her head. "I... I've just never flown before."

"Ah," nods Chris in understanding. "Some trepidation is perfectly understandable, then. But, as someone who has been flying since infancy, I can assure you that it is quite safe."

"Promise?"

"Solemnly," he assures her, covering her hand in his. "I wouldn't dream of putting you in harm's way. And, if it helps at all, you are welcome to focus your attention on me."

I scoff under my breath as Hayley lifts her gaze to Chris' like clockwork.

Guy’s slicker'n a greased pig on ice...

But I can’t really blame him. It’s his last shot at freedom before the start of the season, so he’s entitled to bring his A-game...

...even if his play had cost me mine.

I give myself a mental kick.

Quit it, you ass.

This is Chris' time. Not mine.

And I’m not gonna let some misplaced sense of resentment fuck up what’s left of this trip.

Especially since I only have myself to blame.

For dragging my feet around Gale. For second-guessing myself... and her. And for letting myself fall for her in the first place.

I heave a breath as I stare out of the cockpit.

I fucked up. Big time.

Don't get hooked.

That’s my number one rule.

Because I have no time and zero interest in anything resembling a serious relationship. It’s too distracting, too much work and I probably wouldn't be able to sustain it anyway. At least not without a level of disclosure that’s way higher than what I’m prepared to give after just a handful of dates. And even then there’s no guarantee that all the late nights, erratic schedules and constant jet-setting won’t drive a massive wedge between whatever promises we make to each other.

Hell, this life literally destroyed my family.

Yet, here I am, despite everything, wishing it’s Harper that I’m sat next to right now, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine, smelling the honey scent of her hair as we whip over the city.

Would she be clutching my hand nervously, like Hayley is Chris'? Or would she be pressed up against the window, hazel-green eyes sparkling with excitement as she sought out each famous landmark? Or would she be on my lap, taking me for a very different kind of ride 2,000 feet over the city, the view outside forgotten?

I swallow a groan as I shift uncomfortably in the hard seat.

Christ, I’m in trouble...

Not only had I torpedoed my own rules like a bull in a china shop, but I've decided that it'd be a great fuckin’ idea to fall for a girl who lives literally on the other side of the world, and who I have no chance of ever seeing again.

Because the social season is starting in a few short days, and it’s going to eat up literally all of my time. In part because the season’s a mess of high-profile public engagements across disparate venues around the country, and in part because Chris is now the Heir Apparent and that means that I’m going to have to be even more on the ball when it comes to security arrangements.

So, there’s no way in hell that — even if I want to — I’m going to be able to hop back over the Pond and find Gale, much less spend any kind of meaningful time with her.

And I want to. Desperately. Beyond the fact that I have an incurable itch in my pants from having failed to close the deal.

Because no girl has ever had such a lightning bolt effect on me. And I can’t ignore the lodestone-like attraction that went beyond anything I've ever felt before.

But life obviously has a malicious sense of humour when it comes to throwing curve balls, because short of giving Bast — and Chris — the finger and resigning, I literally have no cards to play.

And I’m not gonna leave my brother or my commanding officer (who’s also my uncle in all but name) in the lurch during one of the busiest periods of the royal calendar, just so I can chase after a girl who may or may not actually want to see me again.

Especially after the way I walked out on her earlier...

I shake my head morosely as we begin our descent onto the hotel roof.

There’s no two ways about it. Because regardless of what’s happened — and didn't — I’m going to have to accept that I've been dealt a shit hand and the only available option is to cut my losses and fold.

Because me and her? Not gonna happen. On any level.

So, if I’m to have any hope of extricating myself from this irrational infatuation that I've inadvertently thrown myself into, I know that I’m just gonna have to pretend that the past two nights never happened...

...and maybe that way I can salvage some semblance of sanity before I lose my mind completely.

The chopper touches down.

Yanking my headset and seatbelt off, I immediately set about throwing the door open and helping Chris and Hayley disembark.

Because if there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I have two options for pulling myself out of my ass: getting physical, or getting shit-faced drunk. And since alcohol’s not a possibility right now — at least not until Chris is safely back in his hotel room and the door has been locked for the night — I’m going to have to keep moving and keep myself busy.

"Get her inside," I shout to Chris. "I'll be over in a sec."

With a nod, he wraps his arm around Hayley to help shield her from the worst of the down draft as he begins leading her towards the hotel-access door on the other side of the roof.

Turning back towards the chopper, I yell up O'Sullivan, "Thanks for the assist!"

"Any time, Lieutenant," he winks back at me as I shrug out of the loaner jacket. "You Cordonians sure know how to make a guy's night interesting!"

"Yeah," I scoff, tossing the heavy leather up to him. "A little too interesting..."

"Beats sitting at a desk all night," he grins, deftly snapping the jacket out of the air... until his expression changes as he clocks the added weight. "You leave your Tic-Tac's in here, or something, Walker?"

"Nope," I reply. "That lil' keepsake's for you, Deputy Inspector."

O'Sullivan frowns as he reaches into the inner-left pocket... and blanches as he pulls out the signal jammer. "You've got to be shitting me!"

I catch his eye with a level look. “Told you I'd make this trip worth your while..."

"Yeah, when you said that, I thought you were talking about a case of Bud, or something," he admits dryly, inspecting the jammer. Looking back up, he adds, "You realise this isn't some rookie tech off Amazon, right?"

I nod. "It's why I figured you'd want it off the streets."

Leo'd probably filched it from the Guard armoury, the sneaky bastard. Which means it’s military-grade and has no place in a civilian setting.

O'Sullivan chuckles. "You figured right. This bad boy could've landed your Prince Charming with a hefty fine... or some serious jail time if he'd been caught with it."

"Trust me, I know," I grunt. "But at least this way you have a plausible story for commandeering the chopper."

"Not to mention a shit load of paperwork," he grumbles with a sour look. But I can see that he's not that begrudging of the situation.

"Yeah, well," I shrug, "no pain, no gain, O'Sullivan. And speaking of, I should get going before Chris blows up all our hard work by disappearing again."

"No sweat, Walker," grins O'Sullivan. "Like I said, it's been interesting."

"Glad to’ve been of service," I smirk in reply as I yank the chopper door closed again.

From behind the cockpit window, O'Sullivan lifts two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before turning back Hendricks.

As the rotors start to pick up speed again, I quickly vacate the landing circle. Loping across the roof, I catch up with Chris and Hayley just before the stairwell door slams shut behind them.

"Everything alright?" queries Chris as the motion-sensitive lights flicker on overhead in the tight space.

"Yup," I confirm, quickly moving to the front. I’m not expecting any nasty surprises on our way down, but you can never be too careful. "Just had to square a few lose ends."

"What happened to your shirt?" exclaims Hayley, suddenly catching sight of my bare chest.

"Functional breakdown," I mutter, yanking the wayward front panels together as I start making my way down the steps.

"He means it ripped," clarifies Chris wryly in response to Hayley's confused silence.

"Yeah, I can see that, but—"

"It ain't important," I cut in gruffly, picking up the pace.

It’s bad enough that I can’t get Gale out of my head. I don’t need the remnants of my unfulfilled night with her turning into a conversation piece.

Because the last thing I feel like doing — after everything that’s gone wrong tonight — is talking. About any of it. As it sure as hell isn’t gonna change anything, and it’s definitely not anyone’s business but mine and Gale's.

Reaching the landing, I divert towards the nondescript door that’s our gateway back into the hotel proper. Cracking it open, I do a quick visual sweep for potential threats before opening it more fully to let Chris and Hayley through as well.

Hayley frowns as she surveys our surroundings. "You brought us to... a gym?"

"It's the fastest way to the elevators," I tell her, striding past the glass-encased room that houses the top-of-the-line fitness equipment. "Unless you want to tackle a dozen flight of stairs in those heels?"

"No, thanks."

"Yeah. Didn't think so."

"Is he always so grumpy?" whispers Hayley to Chris... loud enough for me to hear.

"Only on Thursdays and Fridays," replies Chris in equally (un)hushed tones.

Hayley snorts in response.

I feel my jaw clench.

But we’re two yards from the elevators and the end of this fucked up night.

So, I don't let myself rise to the needling, and focus instead on the task at hand, which is making sure that Chris got back to his room without incident.

Arriving at the metal doors, I press the button to call the lift. One arrives almost instantaneously and we file in, Chris and Hayley trying and failing to hide their conspiratorial sniggers as they cast me sidelong glances.

I roll my eyes, but otherwise remain silent.

Just have to drop Chris off, and then escort Hayley down to the lobby and into a cab.

Then I’m done.

Luckily, the well-greased elevator ride is mercifully short, and we arrive on our booked-out floor within seconds.

The doors ping open.

I open my mouth...

...but Chris is faster.

"Could I tempt you with a nightcap?" he asks Hayley, extending his hand hopefully down towards the end of the hallway. "My room has quite an impressive selection of refreshments."

"Sounds like being a diplomat comes with perks," she observes with a smile.

"Absolutely," agrees Chris, placing a hand in the small of her back to guide her towards his room. “Especially when you have a beautiful companion to share them with.”

I slam my mouth shut as I step out of the lift after them.

So much for that plan...

Chris obviously isn’t ready to call it a night. But who can blame him? He has a hot girl hanging on his every word and gesture, who just agreed to come back to his hotel room. He'd be a fool not to take full advantage of the opportunity.

And honestly? With the way they’re looking at each other, I'll be surprised if they even made it to the mini bar (let alone to the bed) before they jump each other like a pair of horny jackrabbits...

...Christ knew Gale and I hadn't.

I shake my head. 

Put a sock in it, Walker!

Yanking my phone out of my pocket to distract myself from the relentlessly graphic memories, I send a quick sit-rep to Schweitzer to let him know that we've made it safely back to the hotel, and everyone can finally unclench their sphincters.

That said, I have no idea what Leo, Max and Tariq are up to… or where the hell they even are. But they’re not my priority. If they got themselves lost, locked up, or killed, that’s their problem. Not mine.

I've had enough of running around the greater New York metropolitan area for one night, praying and hoping while chasing down partial leads and best-guesses. And I’m not gettin' paid to stress about nobody but Chris, so everyone else can fall down an open man-hole and break their neck for all I care.

I’m fuckin' done with this night.

"Care to join us?"

Chris’ voice jars me from my thoughts. Glancing up, I can see him standing in the doorway of the Carnegie Suite, looking at me expectantly.

"Huh?"

"For a drink," he clarifies, no doubt catching the dumbass expression on my face. "Seeing as I ended up pulling you away from... whatever you were doing—" his gaze flicks pointedly to the ripped buttons of my shirt, "—I feel I should offer you at least some recompense. Even if it is just a late-night libation."

"Nah," I say with a shake of my head, slotting my phone away. "I'm beat. I'm calling it a night."

"Well, if you change your mind..."

I scoff. "Trust me, I won't. You don't need me crashing that particular party."

I nod my chin towards the inside of the room where Hayley is already in the process of shrugging out of her sparkly jacket as she stands silhouetted by the glow emanating from the Manhattan nightscape behind her.

Chris glances briefly over his shoulder with a wry grin. "No, I suppose not. Rain check?"

"Rain check," I agree, bumping my fist against his. "On the condition your ass stays in that room 'til departure time. And you don’t take or share any photos with her. Including the ones from the ferry. Otherwise you'll be owing me a helluva lot more than a fancy, overpriced drink.”

Chris cracks a laugh as he pulls the door around. "Duly noted! 'Night, mate! I owe you one!”

"Damn right you do!”I reply with a smirk, pulling my own keycard out. "Play safe."

"I always do," winks Chris, reaching around to slip the 'Do Not Disturb' placard onto the door handle.

A low exhale escapes me as the door — at last — clicks softly closed.

Christ, what a clusterfuck...!

Had I known that this day’s going to devolve into a never-abating conflagration of wildfires, I'd've probably got myself hammered before breakfast.

Because getting though the past 24 hours even partially sober has tested every one of my nerves. And given the fact that I've gotten basically no sleep the night before, I’m near about past going.

Which is probably why I can’t think one straight thought without tripping over Gale.

I clench my eyes shut. Definitely time to clock out...

Opening my eye, I slide the keycard into the reader with a chirp. Pushing the door handle down, I step into the darkened room.

Not bothering with the lights — given that the curtains were still open and the background glare of the nearby buildings provided plenty of illumination — I punt the door shut behind me, and head straight for the mini bar.

I may have turned down Chris's offer for a late-night drink, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna crash out sober. If anything, after the way this trip has snowballed into the definition of 'fucked up beyond all recognition', I’m in half a mind to straight up kill my liver...

...I just don’t want to do it while playing awkward third-wheel in the other room.

Arriving at the fridge, I yank the door open and survey the cop-out offerings of water, soda, beer and champagne.

I heave a breath. Well, ain’t nobody getting drunk off of this shit...

Still. It’s better than nothing.

Grabbing two bottles of beer out — because no way am I touching the champagne... even if it's Krug; the last thing I need right now on top of everything else is a motherfuckin' migraine — I pop the cap off one and take a hard swallow.

The cool malt hits the back of my throat, and I chug the rest of it down greedily, suddenly realising how parched I am.

Dropping the empty bottle back on the bar top, I’m reaching for the second when I catch sight of my reflection in the large mirror sitting behind the shelving in front of me.

Sweet Jesus, I look like death warmed up...

My hair looks like it's been chewed up and spat out by a yak, my skin’s ashen, my eyes tired and bloodshot, and I have a large, blueish welt on my jaw from where Tattoos had decked me, in addition to the claw marks that the asshole’s girlfriend left on my face.

I pull a face as I untwist the second cap.

I haven’t looked this much like buzzard bait since the literal beating I received during — and after — the one and only polo match I ever subjected myself to.

And it was clear that — just like then — I’m in desperate need of a shower.

Draining the second beer, I quickly draw the curtains before resignedly turning back the way I'd come.

Dropping my keycard into the holder on the wall to turn the lights on, I kick my boots off by the door and trudge into the bathroom.

Grabbing some towels, I throw them onto the floor and shove the faucet of the glass-panelled shower onto the hottest setting.

While waiting for the water to warm up, I bend down to pull off the ankle holsters that held the Sig P365 and tactical knife that I never go anywhere without.

Placing them carefully on the vanity, so they remained within reach, I proceed to strip off the rest of my clothes. The ruined shirt ends up on the floor, followed by the clang of my belt buckle as my jeans and boxers hit the ground.

Pulling my socks off and throwing them on top of the pile, I step into the now rapidly rising steam. A low hiss escapes me as the scalding water hits my chest. But rather than flinching away, or turning the temperature down, I lean into the spray, letting the hot water beat down onto me, like a hammer on an anvil, working the tension out of my muscles.

I have no clue how long I stand there for, head hanging down, hands braced against the wall, just soaking.

But eventually, I force myself to blink my eyes open. Because the hour’s already late, and even though I can probably stay under the spray all night, I know I need to catch some shut eye before the inevitable morning scramble to get everyone back home in time for the Masquerade Ball.

So, reaching for the travel-sized bottle of three-in-one wash that I brought with me, I proceed to lather myself from head to toe. Once done, I rinse myself off, letting the water pummel me for a few more minutes before reluctantly turning the spray off.

Unfurling one of the towels, I drop it on the marble floor so I can step out of the shower without breaking my neck. Grabbing the other towel, I run it over myself to get the worst of the moisture off before wrapping it around my waist.

Moving over to the vanity, I lift a hand to wipe the condensation off the oversized mirror and note that the hot soak has managed to bring some colour back to my face... albeit at the expense of my bruise, which has grown more pronounced as a result of the prolonged heat treatment.

Oh, well. Shit happens...

It's not like I’m a stranger to bruises. Growing up, I collected plenty of them from all the stupid shit I got up to, climbing up rickety ladders, falling out of trees, off my bike, not to mention off horses that were unquestionably too big for me.

And the hits only intensified as I got older and tried my hand at pretty much every type of sport imaginable — most of them in the contact category. Soccer, basketball, rugby, water polo, judo... I've done it all. Including American football, which Dad had begun indoctrinating me into since before I could even walk, and which I actually got a chance to play at uni as a running back.

So, a black-and-blue shiner on my face isn’t gonna faze me.

Badge of a battle well-fought, Dad always used to say.

Plus it's not like I’m reliant on my looks to get me through life. I’m not constantly in the limelight, being forced to present some kind of idealised image to the world. That’s Chris' lot. Not mine.

Thank fuck...

Though if I actually want to be able to eat anything tomorrow that’s more substantial than a milkshake, I probably should ice the bastarding thing down.

I feel a wry smirk pull at my mouth as I reach for my wash bag. 

That bottle of Krug might get a lease on life, after all...

Quickly brushing and flossing my teeth — wincing a bit at the growing tightness in my jaw — I gather up my discarded clothes (as well as my holsters) and make my way back into the room.

Placing the weapons on the bedside table — contrary to what pop culture may have you believe, it ain't a good idea to sleep with a loaded gun beneath your pillow — along with my phone and wallet, I set about sorting out my threads.

A quick once-over reveals that after all the literal running around I ended up doing, the jeans probably could do with a wash. But I only brought the one pair, so they’re going to have to do for tomorrow. The socks and boxers are unquestionably dead, so I roll them up to stow away in my duffle.

That leaves the shirt.

Grabbing either end of the split yolk, I bring the busted button-down up to eye-level to determine it's fate.

All in all, four buttons are missing, so the damage isn’t as bad as I—

From beneath the lingering hum of stale sweat, old leather and jet fuel, I suddenly catch a whiff of her honey-camomile scent, soft and sweet, like a half-remembered dream... and I nearly choke.

Goddammit...

I launch the cotton across the room with a growl of frustration.

As much as I like the shirt — it’s one of the few dressier ones that I own — there’s no way I’m gonna be able to salvage it.

Because even if it hadn't still smelled like her, the mere sight of it had been enough to throw me back into that cramped apartment... and the litany of missed opportunities that had preceded it.

And, even if I do fix it back up, I'll never be able to wear the damn thing without a stark reminder of the cold, hard fact that that's all Gale is now — a memory.

So, the sooner I burn it, the better.

Along with the shirt.

But, since I don’t have a blowtorch with me — and, in any event, setting fire to the highly flammable material in the hotel room would definitely cause a building-wide evacuation — I’m going to have to make do with simply stuffing the rag in the trash.

Heaving a beleaguered breath, I force myself to march around to the other side of the bed and pick up the shirt again. Balling it up, I dump it in the bin next to the desk.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Dropping the towel from my waist, I shuffle over to my duffle to stow my dirty clothes away and grab a fresh pair of boxers out.

Pulling the underwear on, I do a final sweep of the room before hitting the lights, grabbing the Krug to serve as an impromptu ice pack, and crawl beneath the cool sheets.

But instead of passing out as soon as my head hits the pillow, I find myself lying awake, staring into the darkness.

...fuck's sake.

The story continues in Chapter 10 - Darkfall

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Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits

Staten Island Terminal - Shower - Drake - Statue of Liberty - Hayley & Chris - NYPD - Helicopter - Night

#sleepless in new york #drake walker #prince liam #new york #drake x mc #the royal romance #trr fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #choices April monthly challenge #choices monthly challenge #Spotify

[apollos-olives]

Hi, this is the anon who vented to you earlier. I'm really sorry I put all that on you when you're struggling yourself. I can't imagine how you must be feeling being Palestinian yourself. It wasn't right for me to do that I'm so sorry.

I really appreciated your advice. I was born into a white, atheist/christian family so I've never known religion, but after reading your reply I might consider looking into Islam. It sounds like it's helped you maintain your sense of hope for justice and a better future. I'm glad you have that.

I'm of the belief that there will be justice. And one day our future generations will look back on this in history books and wonder how any of this was ever allowed to happen, in the same way they speak about the holocaust today. Those responsible will be vilified, it's just a question of when.

But remind yourself that you're doing everything you can and you have made a difference. I've been living a dull, meaningless life but your posts have ignited a spark in me. I had no idea how horrific things were until I saw your posts and they've given my life meaning. Your posts have been the reason why I'm taking my friends to a pro Palestine protest outside our local representative's office this Thursday. So even when you feel small and powerless, know that the information you've shared has made a difference. Because of you there will be 5 extra protestors this Thursday. It may not seem like much but there's no doubt in my mind that you've motivated so many more.

And remember to go easy on yourself. Take a break from the news from time to time. I know it's so hard and every minute spent not doing something makes you feel useless. But just for an hour or so. Give your mind a rest. You need to live too. I hope that doesn't seem rude. I just want you to be okay.

awh anon don't apologize at all. i absolutely understand your grief and how you must feel so utterly powerless right now. believe me, i understand. but you're not powerless. here you are, taking you and your friends to a protest. that in itself is wonderful, and every single palestinian in the world right now appreciates you. don't apologize for sharing your struggles, we all need someone to help us sometimes.

i'm so delighted you're looking into islam! even if you don't feel like it's right for you, just learning about it can help you educate yourself by tenfold. i truly think islam is one of the most beautiful things in life, and often times it's the only thing that keeps me going. even if not everyone believes in it, doing some research and learning about other ways of life will only benefit you and others around you. islam has helped me through so much, and i only hope that it can maybe help you find some peace as well.

and you are right for your belief in justice. there will always be justice in the end. no matter how long or how hard we must fight, there will be justice, and palestine will be free. the world will keep making the same mistakes and keep committing horrific crimes but we MUST stay strong and fight injustice in the face of our oppressors.

i'm so delighted that i've helped you in some way. sometimes i really do feel like a speck of dust compared to the sun, but your message is genuinely so heartwarming, so thank you. i'm glad to have inspired you and your friends to take action. things will get better inshallah. thank you for your kind words, and don't worry about it. you are always welcome here <3

#this was genuinely so sweet thank you

[thoughtsaboutautism]

I suffer with autism: a response to Chloe Hayden's post on instagram.

I started writing this as a response to someone's question on Twitter, but as I kept getting involved into all the reasons why autism causes daily suffering for me, I decided to turn this into a longer post. The language might sound harsh if you're not used to it. I don't hate myself, I don't even hate my autism because I know I was born this way and there is absolutely nothing that can change that. However, when faced with affirmations that all my struggles are caused by society by others, then I have to come forward and say this type of stuff because I know I am not the only one that feels this way, and I know most people who feel this way are afraid to say this or can't even put into words like I can. So, here we go.

My biggest struggle in life in loneliness. I suffer with being lonely everyday, all day. And this happens because of my autism. I feel that my autism keeps me from establishing true connections and relationships to others. A Portuguese nonverbal autistic man once wrote: "autism takes from us what is most valuable and unique in a human life: the ability to connect to others". This is exactly how I feel. I find it extremely hard, boring and tiring to talk about things that aren't of my interest. As you can imagine this makes interacting with anyone an extremely difficult task because friendship is made of two sides, not only one. My speech and language difficulties also make it hard for me to speak, I can only speak for a certain amount of time before I get too tired of decoding my thoughts into phrases. It feels like a manual job for me: while everyone else is able to speak freely as their thoughts come in mind, I have to do the work manually. Does AAC help? Yeah, it does, but not entirely, because I still have language difficulties, which means that using language in anyway is difficult, not only speaking is a challenge, but communicating.

My cognitive rigidity also makes it very hard to make friends. I find it difficult to interact with people who have different set of beliefs than mine and I don't mean difficult like everyone finds it difficult. I mean difficult in a way that my best friend from school converted to christianity 3 years ago and I still have written long lists of pros and cons of being her friend, I have tons of writings on my notebook about what I should do, how I should act, researching morality to understand if I can keep a friend like her: has she adopted any radical beliefs since she converted? Would I invite her to my (lesbian) wedding if I ever get married? Does she believe in hell and heaven? Is she pro-choice? She is still nice to me, but I don't agree to certain beliefs, what should I do? All of these questions "live" in my head almost daily and it's been 3 whole years.

My rigidity also makes it almost impossible to go to new places, which is something all young adults my age like to do. Not only I find it difficult to visit new places, these places have to be quiet, they have to be somewhere where I can easily get home or a place where my parents can pick me up (because I have a hard time going places on my own), they have to have something I eat, or I have to bring my own food. With all of those needs, you can imagine that most young adults don't want to take care of someone like me when going out, but rather they want a friend and the sad truth is, I can't be a friend. Because my needs are almost always too much to deal with. And I don't blame others, I don't expect a friend to be a carer. This is the reality I've come to accept and why I work so hard in therapy to improve my issues with autism.

Sensory sensitivity and motor skills difficulties make my daily life a living hell. I can't stand the sun, the wind blowing on my face, dogs barking, cars, motorbikes, babies, kids, sometimes I have to leave my own piano lessons early because the piano is too loud or sometimes too shrill. Everything I do like getting food at the Cafeteria at University needs to be done with extremely careful movements. I easily let stuff fall down, break stuff, when eating I make a whole mess because I have difficulty holding the fork and knife and everything related. I constantly hurt myself badly. I have bad posture and bad ankles because of tiptoeing, which cause me excruciating pain.

I have trouble understanding simple concepts, simple social skills. I have trouble reading books and articles because of my language. I have trouble following whatever the Professor's talking about in class if they don't follow a straight line of thought, any distraction, any deviation from the original topic confuses me. I can't organize things in my head anymore. I need three times the time to get through a paragraph a normal person needs because language is so hard for me to comprehend. Yes, it's not all bad, I am myself a language genius (not really a genius, but let's just pretend). Yes, I can memorize grammar structures extremely easily. But I can't comprehend a sentence with any hidden meaning. I can't interpret a text that uses different meanings of words and different figures of speech. And when I get frustrated because of these difficulties that are cause by my autism, my first instinct is to bang my head against the wall. Scream. Hit myself. That's how my meltdowns are. I feel too much and I don't know how to express my feelings because sometimes I cannot communicate or comprehend them. And then I bang my head against the wall and give myself a concussion.

Yes, my autism causes me suffering. I am glad it doesn't cause you suffering, Chloe. But don't erase or deny my existence.

#autism #asd #autism level 2 #actually autistic

[strangestcase]

ok genuine question here. as someone who has a special interest on jekyll and hyde (the book) and its social impact as a piece of media: where the hell did the tumblr fandom trend of infantilizing hyde come from.

i know the trend of depicting hyde as the evil alter trope comes from a combination of factors in the pop culture derive of jekyll and hyde adaptations and their social impact

for instance, DID/OSDD being first described and presented to the public (at least in the way we do know them now, since earlier descriptions were less specific) the same month strange case came out, kickstarting a Victorian fascination with dissociative disorders and what their existence means to the paradigm of the christian soul, how those discoveries would shape proto-psychiatry (which strange case was touching upon), a chronic impossibility to accept a fictional character could be as complex and contradictory as jekyll, the hard pill to swallow that the book's themes and morals are, the story being simplified for adaptations, and Stevenson being contacted by the brother of dr Myers (the man who first described DID and OSDD as we know them today, albeit using terminology that is considered outdated and offensive nowadays).

like all that added itself to the unreliably narrated plot twist to build up, year after year, adaptation after adaptation, a pop culture derive that culminates with 21st century readers assuming strange case depicts the evil alter trope (to the point of systems and their allies being wary of the book!) and modern retellings thinking using the evil alter trope is more accurate, realistic, or edgy, than the classic and more correct -and much less problematic- concept of jekyll literally playing a part and it spiraling into him losing sight of who he really is. ok? ok

but like

while a lot of adaptations have toyed with this concept, and some (fortunately, a minority) have gone full steam with it, i can't think of any adaptations that depict hyde as a "child", be it literally or metaphorically, with the exception of (siiighs) The Glass Scientists (in which Hyde being infantilized by other adults is treated as a joke, everybody laugh now)

but i get the feeling that this wasn't as much as an adaptation starting a trend but as an adaptation cementing it; i've seen my fair share of posts calling hyde "a baby man" or "a baby" or whatever with various degrees of irony (which is weird but funny at first, fucking gross once you become aware of the implications). and i think a fair share of them predate the "official" tgs run (2015 onwards). in fact i would say that fandom trend is what made tgs hyde be as infantilized as he is currently, because he certainly wasnt infantilized in the concept art stage of the comic, in which he was consistently depicted as a dangerous, violent person (if rather childish, silly, and immature; but those traits a child dont make, and i will say, they are also shared by book!hyde, who isnt infantilized at all beyond ironic comparisons to a child wearing adult clothes, and i remind you that those comparisons are played for horror rather than humor)

so like. when did it start, and why? is it because tumblr users can't be fucking normal about a short adult, is it because tumblr users are by nature contrarian and begun to infantilize him as a "response" to hyde being depicted as a sexual predator in most adaptations, or did something else happen?

#jekyll and hyde #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #dr jekyll and mr hyde

[imnobodyuknow]

Ladies and gentlemen...

Or your papas, whichever suits the occasion.  😉

It only took forever, but here it is: “big reveal” number 59!

***Doki Doki Literature Club Spoilers Ahead!!!***

So, this drawing is a bit on the abstract side -- a simple scene with a deeper meaning than meets the eye (especially if you happen to be familiar with the game it’s made after).  What kind of scene, you ask?  Just a happy hypothetical scenario in which the cast of Doki Doki Literature Club get to meet their maker!

Uh, no, not that one.  I’m talking about Dan Salvato, the game’s creator!  If we assume they all know who he is (which I realize implies that they all became self-aware somehow -- y’know, minor details), I imagined they’d be all too happy to meet him in the flesh!

Well, heh...  All but one.

So, while I don’t actually know Dan Salvato or what he’d do if he could interact with his brainchildren this way, I couldn’t help but smile at the idea of him showing up in their world to share some love with them.  (I know that’s what I’d do, anyway.  😊)  As you can see, three of them are enjoying his company, and Natsuki has even been moved to tears.

This might seem a little out of character for her unless you consider these two words: Better dad.  Need I say more?

Monika, on the other hand, isn’t quite so thrilled to see him.

Oh, and the protagonist is there, too, of course.  Let’s just pretend we’re looking at this scene from his point of view.  😏

Why the stark contrast in their reactions?  As you know if you’re familiar with the game’s story, these girls each have their own burden to bear, all of which are a lot heavier than you might think just by looking at them.  Monika’s burden, however, was of a somewhat different nature than the others -- she became aware of the game’s existence and her role in it, decided to use it to her advantage, and it blew up in her face.  She ended up coming to terms with it, but not without lashing out a bit at the player first, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she felt the same way toward the game’s creator.

With that in mind, I can imagine the other three girls forgiving good ol’ Dan for what he put them through (again, assuming they understand the whole situation now), but in Monika’s case, I doubt she’d be willing to forgive him quite so easily, if at all.  You may have noticed Sayori inviting her into their group hug:

She’s essentially saying with her face, “Come on, Monika, just let it go!”  Monika’s response would likely be something like, “He puts me through an existential crisis, a lack of purpose, and a painful rejection, and you expect me to forgive him just like that?”

Or maybe something simpler like, “It’s not that easy.”

One other thing I want to point out is how Dan is looking straight at her, ready to let her into the group whenever she’s prepared to.  He’s giving her the look of a loving father, in other words.  😊

And now, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to take a look at this scenario from a Christian point of view (’cause that’s what I do 😉).

Suppose, hypothetically, your life had an author (either the God of the Bible or a different one, whichever you prefer) and you had a chance to meet them (either in a vision, a dream, after death, or something else -- again, whichever you prefer).  Knowing that they were responsible for everything that happened to you -- good and bad -- what would you say to them, if anything?  Would you be like Monika in this drawing, showing them bitterness (or flat-out hatred) for all the suffering you and your loved ones have had to go through in your life?  Would you be like Yuri, Natsuki, and Sayori, showing them gratitude for the good things you and your loved ones have experienced in your life, as well as the gift of life itself?  Or would you feel a mixture of the two and try to decide which attitude would be most appropriate?  Even as a die-hard Christian, I wouldn’t blame anyone for having trouble deciding what kind of tone they would take.

Anyway, while you’re pondering that question, here are the images I used for the characters.  For Natsuki and Yuri’s profiles, I used these:

For the characters’ facial expressions, I used these:

(I combined two different sprites for that one)

For Sayori’s arm, I used Monika’s main menu sprite:

For Dan Salvato, I used a photo of him from the DDLC wiki:

Drawing that hairstyle was a challenge, but a fun one.  I’m a little disappointed with how ugly the color of his shorts turned out.  Sorry about that, Mr. Salvato!  😓

And finally, the setting is based on the residential area from the game:

I just have to say, I long for the day when I can draw something with that level of detail.  That’s just nuts!  😳

Anyway, I hope this drawing sparked some deep, deep thoughts for you, or that it was enjoyable at the very least.  And if it turns out there is an Ultimate Being who crafted the world, life, and you...cut ‘em some slack.  You wouldn’t want to have their job, after all.  😐

#wreck it ralph #hero's duty #sergeant calhoun #doki doki literature club #natsuki #sayori #monika #yuri #dan salvato #lilo and stitch #jumba jookiba #stitch #pencil art #colored pencil art #isaiah 29:16 #try to ignore the fact that they're standing in the middle of the street 😅

[ndostairlyrium]

peeks >:3

Questions you said??

for Ela: Family, n6; Specific question n2, 10, 22.

for Hawke: Party, n2; Specific question n3, 7 (very important.), 12

for Ankh: Family, n4; Specific question n2, 3 and 8

Too many? in Eric Idle's voice

Ela:

6 - [Life, I assume?] Which aspects of the culture they were born into holds the most significance for them?

She was a noblewoman, but not a firstborn, so she has spent less time than Fergus studying for perfecting a role of responsibility. Being proud while acting charitable towards who's in need, I would reply. First one coming from her upbringing, second one coming from her religious beliefs - she claims she's not a believer but I doubt you can cleanse entirely from a cult so similar to christianity.

2 - [DA:O] How did they feel about being recruited into the Grey Wardens? What were Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds like for them?

She didn't really want to be recruited, her ambitions were different. Also it wasn't her decision and she fucking hates when she's forced to do something so massive without her consent. It was frustrating, to say the least, so she tried to read into it as if it was her father's last gift to her before they parted ways. An honorable cause for an honorable woman. That helped her to familiarize better with what was going on. Ostagar was terrifying, because she could see everything that was wrong with fereldan society in a smaller scale. The Korcari Wilds were haunting but at least it was a good chance for her to blow off some steam.

10 - [DA:O] What was their nightmare in the Fade during Broken Circle?

I think I already elaborated on this somewhere else, hold on

Adding the original post from @zevsurana >here< - I really suggest you to follow them as well, because they always share some quality a++ content 👌👌👌

22 - [DA:O] If your Warden survived, did they continue to serve the Grey Wardens? What is their life like after the Blight?

She survived and she continued to serve the Grey Wardens. Her main goal after the Blight was to find a role within the order's ranks, because she felt like her job wasn't done after all. What happened during Awakening confirmed this, so when the Mother was defeated, she started to investigate more on that, by traveling through Thedas to find more clues.

Hawke:

2- [Party] Which companions (or advisors) are they closest friends with? Who do they respect?

He's super attached to Varric and Isabela, being the ones that constantly offer him drinks and shoulders to cry on. But the real deal is Fenris. The two of them started to talk more once Carver got recruited into the Wardens. Hawke felt like he could really avoid to shoot jokes to lighten the mood in his presence, he became comfortable enough with him to just speak his mind and show - to himself first - that he can allow himself to be serious and sad sometimes.

3 - [DA2] What was their relationship like with their father before he died?

Actually, I don't think I've ever explored this! O: I think they were close, but there was some resentment because the twins weren't treated fairly. They both had to count bigger responsibilities than their ages combined in one way or another. Carver was being left behind constantly, Bethany was instructed to keep a low profile and act proper, as if they both were nuisances. He was the best teacher, but he wasn't the perfect dad - but who is tho?

7 - [DA2] What did they name their Mabari?

Cane Dog. Just Dog.

12 - [DA2] How did they feel about becoming the Champion of Kirkwall?

Would have been better if a salary came along with the title. It was fine, well deserved, also it provided him free food and drinks for a while. He boasts about it, but in truth he just doesn't care about titles.

Ankh:

4 - [Life] Describe their family. Who were they close to? Were there any particular childhood friends?

I often talked about her mom and dad, but I never mentioned her inner circle! She has four best friends back home, experienced hunters and overall cuties (except for Fern, Fern is there to look good and somatize). Two of them go back to childhood, the others came along later. I will draw them one day once the chapter is out and about lmao Are step-mothers a thing in dalish culture? Because if so, Deshanna would totally fit that role. Luckily, she's not a Cinderella step mother kinda deal. She was there when Ankh's real mother died, she taught her how to read and behave with other people, and she helped her being independent and responsible for herself and the clan.

2 - [DA:I] What was their reason for attending the Conclave?

To spy on the humans, mostly. She offered to get there to take notes and report back to the Arlathven, as an ambassador. Actually, she wasn't supposed to be alone as she would meet with others to represent her people officially. The clans needed to know if what was happening was a real threat and she was ready to go, along with others from different clans. Another reason would be that she urgently needed to change air because in her opinion the Dalish can be quite shy and selfish when it comes to interacting with other cultures.

3 - [DA:I] How do they feel about bearing the Anchor? For what did they declare the Inquisition stood for?

About the Anchor, she's torn between believing it was destiny, and thinking she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. About the second question, for her I picked "the Inquisition is for all" option. She wants her people to be recognized as equals (socially and bureaucratically), and at the same time she knows that's a slow process that will continue way after she'll die. However, she's trying her best to set an example, being a clever and graceful leader.

8 - [DA:I] What did their Nightmare appear as in the Fade? What was on their gravestone?

Already replied it here💛

The ask meme

#long post #ask meme #ASK ME WHY IT TOOK ME YEARS TO REPLY LMAO #I'm buying him that farm is2g #ndo sta l'art tag #elanor cousland #hawke #kerry #ankh #I really should be less ambitious with sketches :' it's becoming a problem

[the-least-undefinable-ordinal]

hello! in a recent post you ask:

what would happen when people realize there is no punishment for violent crimes?

this has an interesting parallel to a question i often see christians ask atheists which is:

what would happen if people decide there is no god to punish sins? if murder isn't a sin why wouldn't people just go out and kill everyone they dislike?

I think the responses to both of these questions are potentially very similar.

neither the police nor god even pretend to prevent crime, they merely punish it. its well established that increasing threatened punishments is not an effective method of preventing crime. most people simply don't have an urge to do such things and threats from the gods or from the state are mostly not needed to prevent such actions.

being overly concerned with punishment seems counter productive. providing greater quality of life, and stability that gives faith in a meaningful and worthwhile future is a much more effective method of preventing crime. its hard to say specifically how to address the crimes that would still occur after this, but it seems to me that the question should be how to redress people who have been harmed and how to minimize potential for future recurrences. i don't think punishment is a great answer to either of these questions.

i don't really expect this to full persuade you away from wanting to depend on punishment, but i do hope that this at least feels worth thinking about, and hopefully you'll be slightly more open to the possibility the next time you meet someone arguing against punishment as a solution for crime or social issues.

i hope you're doing well whenever you read this.

I know I'm setting the bar really low, but I appreciate the respectful way in which you sent this, police abolition seems to be a topic that riles people up in here I expected this ask to be a death threat or something.

I am an atheist and there are two main reason I don't commit crimes: I don't like the feeling of harming others and I understand the society I live in would be improved if everyone tried to follow the law.

Both of these reasons could be discarded if I was desperate enough, if I had to choose between going hungry and harming others I don't think I would be above the latter.

You mentioned that increasing punishments does not necessarily prevent crime and while I haven't seen the studies proving that, I don't find it hard to believe: if I was going to prison for stealing it wouldn't affect my decision too much if I was going 5 or 10 years.

However, I'm not talking about increasing or decreasing punishment here, I'm talking about the existence versus the non-existence of punishment; I don't know if there are any good studies documenting what happens when people know they can get away with anything, what I do know is in my city the police went on strike for a couple of days about 5 years ago and it was mayhem: the hospitals were overflowing with stab victims, stores were cleaned out (not just the big ones leftists love to brand as enemies), my friends had to stay away from the windows because they kept hearing gunshots.

Again, I don't have much hard data on this, but I am inclined to hope most violent crimes are commited out of necessity and the most effective way to prevent them would be to better the material conditions of the possible perpetrators; but this is an incredibly difficult problem and in fact one that hasn't been solved yet on a large scale.

The existence of punishment works as a deterrent, as it is in practice it's horrible and it is about reformation only in name, but it will be a necessary evil as long as there are people who suffer and are willing to cause harm to others to end or postpone that suffering.

To conclude, I don't think I'm overly concerned with punishment, I just think it's a necessary part of a flawed system with no known improvement.

#text #politics #discourse #i really should learn how to write better #i feel like im too disorganized in my way of writing :/ #pleasantly surprised anon didnt tell me to kill myself

[spacelazarwolf]

in which i, a queer trans jew, rip a goy a new asshole

hoo boy where the fuck to start.

i’m only addressing this part of this post because i don’t have the energy to discuss the fearmongering that was in the first part. i’m also not linking the original post because 1. it was deleted moments after i asked if you were jewish, which from your phrasing of the post and your reaction to my question i’m assuming you’re not, and 2. i’m hoping you learn from this and never do something like this again.

1. how dare you invoke the holocaust like this.

it’s clear from the way you speak about it that you are not educated enough to talk about this with the sense of authority you seem to have. if the first thing you think of when you think of jews is one of the worst genocides to happen in modern history, then you’re not fucking ready to talk about jews or the holocaust. there were other groups targeted in the holocaust as well, specifically romani people who were part of the ‘final solution’ alongside jews, who are also still being persecuted, but i doubt you even know they exist. you also seem to think that jews only existed in europe or that only jews that lived in europe were affected by the holocaust, but again that’s incorrect. the holocaust was a communal trauma. it affected us all, ashkenazi, sephardi, italki, mizrahi, all across the world we saw what was happening and tried to help our people while the world sat and watched and turned us away. so don’t you fucking dare invoke the holocaust. you do not ‘understand the gravity of such implications’ because if you did you would never have posted this.

2. we are a tiny community that has still not recovered from the atrocity you chose to trivialize

jews make up about 2% of the us population, and about 0.2% of the global population. despite this fact, there are dozens of conspiracy theories saying that we control the world, the weather, the banks, that we’re hellbent on world domination because we are power-hungry vermin that need to be exterminated before we attain that power. we have been persecuted and murdered for centuries because of these conspiracy theories. we have no control or power, but people like you seem to think that we do. calling on us specifically to save you because you think we have some sort of special obligation or special power implies that if we don’t somehow stop what’s happening to trans people (who, by the way, we apparently created as a way to spread degeneracy and destroy good white christian values) that we will be responsible for another holocaust, and i hope you realize how fucking atrocious that is.

3. jews are also in grave fucking danger

but why would you know that? you’ve probably never spoken to a jew intentionally in your life. our elders have been saying for years that this country is slipping into fascism, our entire community has been begging y’all to see what’s happening, but y’all called us sensitive and attention seekers and ‘perpetual victims.’ 

4. as i said before, antisemites already think we created trans people

antisemitism and transphobia are intertwined, but in progressive circles it is very rare to see people advocating for jews. i feel safer in even the most conservative jewish spaces as a queer person than i do in queer spaces as a jew, and i’m not the only one. queer jews have been ejected from queer spaces for simply carrying pride flags with a star of david on them. 

5. we’ve been fighting for you. where the fuck have you been? 

jews are overwhelmingly left leaning in the us. we are very active in social justice movements and have been for decades, and 76% of us support lgbtq+ rights and nondiscrimination legislation. we support reproductive rights, we create summer camps for trans kids, all while it becomes more and more dangerous to exist as a jew in the united states. queer jews have been a foundational part of queer liberation for decades.  

so please fucking spare me the lecture about how, because we were murdered by the millions a couple decades ago, and despite the fact the queer community continues to push us out of queer spaces, we are apparently uniquely responsible for the actions of the same white christofascists who have been targeting us for centuries. do fucking better.

#jewish #jumblr #trans #trans community #queer #trans jew #queer jew #goyim shut up challenge #holocaust #shoah

[qqueenofhades]

Hi Hilary! First of all, I need you to know that you have my utmost respect for how patiently and thoroughly you keep analyzing and explaining the current political clusterfuck regarding *gestures vaguely at everything*. That said, if you feel like a short break from that, I've got an entirely selfish question: if the two dudes in the fic I'm thinking of writing were very old vampires (like 1500 years or the like), what would be a good historical event for them to have vastly conflicting takes on where both viewpoints are more or less equally valid and they can have, uh, heated arguments? Sending you lots of positive vibes 💕

Thank you, my dear. Oh God, how I long for a break from All This Fucking Shit, but I suspect, unfortunately, that all the Shit will keep happening whether I want it to or not, so I have to figure out how to deal with that. On the other hand, I am MORE than happy to talk about something else, and this is an obviously delightful question.

There are a few good choices for your vampires to argue about, depending on exactly how old they are and where in the world they come from. The first possibility is the Council of Nicaea in 325 CE, which set what we recognize as Catholic Christian doctrine and formally outlawed all the other competing textual interpretations. This was the culmination of a HUGE knock-down, drag-out fight, between western and eastern theologies that tried to precisely define the relation of Jesus Christ to God the Father, whether he actually had a human body, whether he had ever actually committed a sin, whether he had ever physically died, and etc. There were countless sects and branches of various size and influence, usually named after their most prominent intellectual figure; i.e., Arianism, Marcionism, etc etc. After two hundred years of heated nerd fights, the Council of Nicaea tried to settle them in the favor of establishing a unified Christian creed (this is where we get the Nicene Creed). If your vampires are of a religious, philosophical, or particular regional bent (since certain geographic areas were more affiliated with certain strands of "heresy" than others), this is an excellent way for them to have the most bogglingly obscure technical/theological arguments known to mankind. MARCIONISM IS JUST REPACKAGED GNOSTICISM!!! yells one. INTOLERANT SANCTIMONIOUS NICENE BASTARD! yells the other. OH MY GOD, GET A ROOM AND ALSO SOME EARPLUGS FOR US, yells everyone else.

Likewise, they could also argue about Justinian and Theodora, Emperor and Empress of the Byzantine Empire in the mid-sixth century (527-65 for Justinian and 527-48 for Theodora). The Secret History by the Byzantinian historian Procopius is both wildly entertaining and shall we say, uh, colorful, and contains all kinds of sexual innuendos and slander about them, particularly Theodora. Justinian was the most influential ruler of the time, there are plenty of political events for the vampires to disagree on, angst related to losing loved ones in the Plague of Justinian, whether Theodora was a no-good scheming con woman or a powerful ambitious badass, what exactly Procopius was smoking, and so forth. They could also argue endlessly over who was really responsible for the end of the Western Roman Empire (c. 476): was it the barbarians, the bad emperors, the endless wars, the overexpansion, the taxes, the natural limits of effective control, etc.? They could also take sides on Carthage v. Rome, though Hannibal and his elephants are much earlier (3rd century BC) and the vampires, unless they're even older, would probably not have known him personally. One of them could likewise have a terrible grudge against the Goths for sacking Rome in 410, and amusingly mistakes every modern "goth" in black nail polish and a spiky collar for a Descendant of the Enemy, while the other one is like oh my god you idiot.

Anyway, if you want more options, let me know, as I am nothing if not good for generating obscure historical background context for fic. We all have to have our talents. :)

#mykingdomcomeundone #ask #history #ancient history

[funkymbtifiction]

I guess an effect that may describe Fe is [them] assuming that their personal qualities, characteristics, beliefs, and actions are relatively widespread through the general population …[...] they tend to believe everybody thinks the same way.”

This is true, and the source of many an argument between my ENFJ father and I. He boiled it down to this simple statement: "Everyone always thinks that others think the way they do, and care about what they care about." It's true. If you were bothered by X in a movie, you will assume will also bother someone else and mention it to them.

But I get what you mean in a broader context, as you expressed here:

My mom (an ISFJ 2w1) tends to say things like “All mothers want…” or “All mothers would…” or “All Chinese people…” There’s also this ESFJ singer (Ariana Grande) who says in one of her songs: “All girls want to be like that. Bad girls underneath like that.” They assume everyone else acts like them when this is not necessarily the case.

This is somewhat Fe-ish, because Fe puts everyone on a level playing field. It assume we all basically want the same things in life, and that we are all generally equals. Seeing us as equals makes it easier for Fe types to find the commonalities that unite us and bring us together.

This is, of course, the opposite of how Te and Fi thinks, which is to divide people according to their skills and abilities. A Te would not think everyone is equal, because the evidence shows that not everyone has the same IQ or capabilities. Fred is good at computer diagnostics, and Pam is the best welder I know; they are not equals, because they are two different skill sets.

But Te can also make broad assumptions, often reinforced if Si lies in the stack (and brings with it a certain respect for what has worked for a long time, or what the Te has seen happen again and again). If you read the book Tiger Mother, about an overbearing 1 ETJ parent, you will see some of these stereotypes present in her thinking -- "All Chinese mothers..." She's assuming her experience as one is somewhat universal, but as a 1, is deciding that she won't "be one of those mothers who lets her children become westernized."

Extroverted Judging types (FJ/TJ) rely on generalizations the most, and it's the P types that quibble with the definitions, ether from a Ti based "well, ACTUALLY..." perspective or an angry internal Fi response of "THAT is NOT how *I* feel about it! Don't lump me in with a bunch of other people!"

I think it’s important not to generalize people because we’re all individuals at the end of the day.

I agree, but also find some generalizations useful at times. It's impossible to eliminate generalizations from your vocabulary, but it's also unfortunate that the "us vs them" mentality of being human makes it all too easy to do this ("Christians all believe..." "Muslims all believe..." "Democrats all believe..." "Republicans all believe..."). The generalizations taught in society precondition us to meet others not with interest in discovering their unique qualities, but assumptions in that we already know what their "stance" on something might be. You can't get rid of these preconditioned biases, but you can ask them sincere questions, in an attempt to get to know them better.

#question #mbti