#+ the southern politeness and time-taking..... I'm still not used to it I'm always in a rush | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smartycvnt · 4 months

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Black Sheep*

Title: Black Sheep

Pairing: Amanda Rollins x Reader

Prompt: "I know that I said to get laid, but I didn't mean them."

Warnings: smut, top Amanda, bottom reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 2264

The annual Calhoun Hamptons weekend was finally over, and Ash felt like she could breathe again. It was nice to be around family for a little while, but her parents were terribly overbearing. Ash was both the baby and the black sheep, which was an odd combination. She was the only Calhoun who hadn't gone the route or law, medicine, or politics, instead opting to move to Oregon at the age of 17 to follow in the footsteps of her favorite musicians.

"Have you bought your ticket back to Portland yet?" It was unusual for Rita to stay the entire weekend, much less an extra day. Their brother and his family had already left. William left a day early like he always did, claiming some sort of emergency at the hospital in Albany that required his presence.

Ash knew everybody's excuses for leaving early. Their parents were retired, and yet, there was always something they were needed for. Usually, her father claimed that someone needed his political expertise. William had his medical emergencies, which Ash knew meant that he missed the golf course. Rita rarely gave an excuse without being pressed for one, but when she did, she threw around Rafael's name. That usually stopped any and all quesioning from their parents.

"I'm driving. Do you think I have the money to ship my car across the country?" Ash laughed. Rita knew that Ash had her trust, even if she didn't like using it. Despite what Ash wanted everybody to think, there wasn't anyone in their family that was better with money than Ash was. However, Ash had never even looked in that direction as a career choice because she didn't care about it. Unlike Rita, Ash had never let their family pressure her in any sort of direction.

"I know for a fact that you do, but that's not the point of my question. Would you like to come stay in New York with me? You can park the penis envy machine in my parking garage for the week," Rita offered. Ash wasn't sure what compelled her to agree, but she did without hesitation. There must have been nostalgia in the air, enough to make both women forget that they did not get along for prolonged periods of time.

Truthfully, Rita did miss her little sister. It wasn't enough to see the woman a once a year on their family trip. Either Rita worked through the holidays or Ash simply didn't make the trip out. They may not have gotten along whenever they were growing up, but Rita was genuinely proud of the woman that her bratty little sister had grown into.

Three days into the week, however, Rita needed her to get the hell away for a night. Ash could see the signs from the first night, and yet, she continued to push. She didn't know why she kept bothering Rita on purpose, it was like a little sister reflex. They had come pretty close to a fight, one that Rita knew she wouldn't win if it came to blows. It was after the screaming match that Ash decided she'd go out for the night.

That was how she had ended up at a bar far away from anywhere Rita would be caught dead. It was honestly a little low-brow for Ash's own alcohol taste, but Ash appreciated the change of scenery. There was nobody who reminded Ash of her family in the slightest. If she was lucky, Ash would find someone to take her home for the night, and if Ash had her way, she knew exactly who it would be.

"How's the whiskey?" Ash knew that she needed to be casual. There was a good chance that the attractive blonde woman that she had just seated herself by wasn't the slightest bit interested. Ash didn't want to come off too strong, but she still needed to find a way into conversation.

"Bad, but it'll do the trick if you want to get drunk," the woman said with a thick southern accent. It was the kind that Ash would have absolutely lost her mind for in her younger days. Still, she found it extremely charming. Ash hummed as she waved the bartender over to order her drink. She was careful not to pull out any big bills and brand herself as an outsider. "Have we met before, you seem kind of familiar?"

"I can assure you that I'd remember if we knew each other, but maybe you know my sister…" Ash trailed off as her drink came. "I'm Ash, by the way."

"Amanda." Ash shook Amanda's hand. The grip was firm, much firmer than Ash's was. Amanda gave her a funny look for a moment, but then seemingly dropped it. "Hey Ricky, get me and Ash here another drink on her tab."

"Ordering yourself a drink on my tab, that's pretty bold," Ash said. Amanda just shrugged and pointed at the ring on Ash's middle finger. Ash tried to play it cool as she slipped the ring off of her finger and slid it into her pocket.

"It's not a wedding ring, so don't look so guilty," Amanda said. The bartender brought their drinks over, and Ash slid him a hundred. "If you're who I think you are, you do not look it."

"Let's not think about that. I left New York for a reason, and I'd hate to try driving myself all the way back home," Ash said. Amanda hummed as she leaned towards Ash. In their close proximity, Ash could smell the cheap alcohol and cigarettes on her. Amanda smelled almost exactly like every boyfriend that Ash had ever dated to make her parents mad. If only she had known back then that bringing home a woman would have done the trick, Amanda would have been perfect.

"My place is pretty close by if you don't want to go all the back way to the Upper East Side," Amanda offered. Ash smirked as she took Amanda's hand in hers. Amanda downed her drink before Ash could pull her away from the bar. They stumbled out of the bar in a rush to get to Ash's car.

"For the record, I don't live on the Upper East Side," Ash interjected. Amanda didn't seem to hear a word of it, though, as she was far too busy staring at Ash's car. Ash liked to think of herself as down to earth with the exception of her Aston Martin.

"Yeah, but you drive this," Amanda said as she got into the passenger's seat. Ash closed the door for her and walked around to the driver's side. The engine roared to life, and Ash glanced over at Amanda to see her eyes lit up with excitement. That car was the absolute best wingman in Ash's experience. There was almost nothing that car couldn't get her.

Amanda's apartment was barely six blocks from the bar, but Ash did a few laps around the block at Amanda's request. Amanda practically lunged across the center console to kiss Ash when Ash finally pulled into a parking spot. Ash placed her hands on Amanda's jaw and pulled her into the kiss. Amanda's ferocity was quickly and easily matched by Ash.

They could have stayed out there all night making out, but as Amanda started to move further into Ash's personal space, Ash had to break things up. She knew from experience how difficult it was to fuck in that car. And so, Ash urged Amanda to lead up to the apartment. Amanda happily did so, dragging Ash along up the stairwell with occasional pauses to lean against the wall and kiss each other.

Ash felt so much of the tension that had been building up since the family getaway being ripped away with each second that she spent with Amanda. If things had been going fast before, they did so doubly once Ash and Amanda were inside of the apartment. Most of Amanda's clothes didn't make it out of the living room. Once Amanda was done with her own clothes, she immediately moved to get started on Ash's.

There was no question on whether or not they wanted this as the two of them made their way onto Amanda's bed. Amanda would have pinned Ash to the wall then and there, but she felt the need to impress a little more than she had the desire to just take Ash. As far as Amanda could tell, Ash didn't seem to mind the 30 second wait for them to get down to things.

"Oh wow," Ash moaned as she felt Amanda's hand brush against her. Amanda didn't let herself think too hard about what she was doing. The few times that she had let herself think, she had gotten inside of her own head. Amanda knew that she thought Ash was hot and in her bed, which was all that mattered. Amanda could wait until the morning to tell herself that she wasn't gay.

Until then, Amanda was more than happy to bury her face in between Ash's thighs. The sweetness of Ash's arousal clung to Amanda's tongue, like it was something she would never forget. Ash looked down to see Amanda completely lost in fucking her. The sight in and of itself caused a wave of arousal to roll through Ash's body enough to make her tremble.

"Stay still," Amanda mumbled from Ash's cunt. She had just barely backed away, not quite enough for Ash to be spared from feeling the vibrations of her voice. Ash wouldn't have wanted that even with the option. She wanted to feel everything that Amanda was offering. It had been far too long since Ash had hooked up with someone, and even longer since it had been this good.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Ash warned. Amanda pushed her arm down to keep Ash's hips pinned to the mattress as she doubled down. Amanda could feel the little bits of cum drip down her fingers as she curled them inside of Ash. Ash covered her mouth with her hands, biting down to muffle the noise as much as she could. Amanda slowed her movements until she came to a complete stop and waited for Ash to stop moving before she withdrew her fingers.

"I hope you're still here in the morning," Amanda muttered as she laid her head down on Ash's thigh. Ash watched as Amanda started to doze off. Ash closed her eyes and allowed herself to follow suit. It was a fairly peaceful sleep until she woke up to Amanda scrambling around to get ready. "Morning. Hey, so I gotta leave soon for work. They made an arrest pretty late last night, so this guy's attorney is coming in first thing in the morning. I have interview duty on this case, so I gotta get going."

"I'm up, I'm up," Ash grumbled. She cleaned herself up the best that she could in Amanda's bathroom. Amanda had set out some clothes for her to wear. They weren't exactly the right size, but Ash appreciated the oversized hoodie. Ash offered her car to take Amanda to work, not realizing how bad of an idea that was until she pulled into a parking spot and saw Rita walking across the lot. "Fuck!"

"What?" Amanda asked as she looked around. She realized a second too late what Ash was referring to.

"Detective Rollins, I thought for sure that your day would start before mine," Rita teased. Ash buried her head in her hands, hopeful that Rita hadn't spotted her in the front seat yet. "Nice car, my sister has one just like it."

"That is very interesting," Amanda said with a very awkward and forced smile. Rita leaned down and peeked into the car, unsurprised to find Ash sitting in the driver's seat.

"Ashley Margaret Calhoun, is your phone broken?" Rita asked. Ash peered her head up and shook it. "I didn't think so. Next time I call you 10 times, at least text me back so I know that you aren't dead. Detective Rollins, do you mind giving me a moment with my sister please?"

"Of course," Amanda said. She mouthed an apology towards you as she started to run towards the precinct.

"Rita, before you start, I am a grown woman," Ash started. Rita raised her hand to silence Ash, a trick that unfortunately worked better than when their mother tried it. Rita had always been a bit more of a maternal figure for Ash than their actual in all fairness.

"I know that I said to get laid, but I didn't mean her. I also didn't mean that you had to go out that night. I was going to apologize for our fight, but obviously I seem to have done you a favor," Rita said. She was rambling a little, and Ash felt the guilt bubbling up from her stomach. She had really worried Rita, something that she never intended to do.

"I'm sorry that I didn't call you, I was occupied. If you'd like, I'll stay out here and take you to brunch when you're done?" Ash offered.

"Somewhere nice with good vodka. And Ash?"

"Yes, Rita?" Ash looked up at her older sister.

"I think Amanda would be good for you." Rita hated how sappy saying that felt, but she thought Ash deserved to know. There weren't many cops, if any, Rita would have been okay with dating her sister, but Amanda wasn't a terrible option. Especially if Amanda could convince Ash to visit New York more often.

#law & order #svu x reader #law & order x reader #svu #one shot #my writing #minors dni #amanda rollins #amanda rollins x reader

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queenlua · 3 months

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ugh religion/politics venting

* today i read the latest in the depressingly long series of incidents in the saga of, "the Southern Baptist Convention simping for the goddamn child molesters/enablers in their own church." i know i'm phrasing that in the maximally inflammatory way; i don't care. it's not like there's a whole fucking gross awful history here or anything

anyway i have felt bizarrely emotional about it, for someone who left that church over a decade ago and has no strong attachment to it otherwise. i guess it's like, i read that article and thought to myself "jfc, where are people even going nowadays, like, if your church's senior leadership sucks that much you gotta leave, right." and i was sort of tempted to call up some of my old church-y friends and ask "ok where are you going now," but... (1) hahaha a lot of my church-y friends left all churches whatsoever a long time ago, and (2) the ones who remain, like, i'm not close enough to them to ask, right? if i called them and randomly asked them intrusive questions about their Religious Organization Feelings, they would peg me as the obnoxious chick who left to go become a coastal liberal elite and now is being a dick to them. and i mean i wouldn't be trying to be a dick but i would be being awfully nosy and presumptuous, right

anyway, my wondering about that sent me down a whole rabbithole of "which congregations are actually growing in the US nowadays anyway," and while it's gratifying to see that the SBC shrinking, i don't exactly love the growth of pentecostalism in its place, right, seeing as "pentecostal brainworms" is at least partially responsible for like 50% of my trans friends getting kicked to the fucking curb by their parents the second they Deviated From The Script. so, y'know, fuck that

i did learn that the "free will baptist" denomination skews surprisingly young and, wow, what a kickass name for a denomination. i know nothing else about them but i hope they're as cool as the image in my head

...anyway, all that idle research didn't really do much to assuage how fucking weirdly furious i am over the SBC. like, i sincerely think the SBC mostly sucks and hasn't been redeemable pretty much ever, but it was also a cultural juggernaut in my youth, and one sort of hopes one's cultural juggernauts might find some way to reform into something humane, or at least fade away with grace. it's somehow secondhand humiliating and depressing to see it devolve into what i knew was always there at its core: gross old men power-tripping and protecting their own and never never never coming down on the side of anything that felt good and right in my heart of hearts

* unrelated but since i'm being unvirtuous and Politicsing On Main anyway:

every goddamn thing i've read out of netanyahu's mouth makes me want to punch his stupid face in until his skin is paste and the paste is mush and the mush is fine little bits of organic matter to feed the soil. and still the dude will not have suffered enough. not to be former-southern-baptist or anything but: i hope keeping your precious status & deliberately inflaming the most brainpoisoned rightoids in your nation & all that other shit is worth the fires of hell that await you after buddy!!!!

i don't have a Sophisticated Take on the israel/gaza stuff, but. at the end of the day i have cultivated a caveman's sense of morality, as a reaction to my tendency to over-intellectualize, and that caveman's sense of morality imo has served me pretty well, for instance: when The Big Guy is beating the everloving shit out of The Small Guy, the thing that is happening is fucked and i don't care who started it, it's gotta stop well before, i dunno, "bombing the shit out of a bunch of kids" for fucking starters. this works for an awful lot of Big Guy vs Small Guy scenarios. try it sometime

(i hate that i even remotely feel the urge to caveat it this way but to be clear: bibi & his homicidal campaign != judaism. judsaism rules, antisemitism is bullshit. but no more fucking more kids dying in a stupid campaign, ceasefirenow etc)

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cainluvr69 · 6 months

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Surely, We Can Make Miracles Chapter 2

Previous Chapter

Northern Citizen: When it comes to wizards… They're the only reason we can live in the North, with its harsh nature and strong spirits. I'm grateful to them from the very bottom of my heart… I hope they never abandon us.

✦✧☾✧✦

Western Citizen: Wizards? Magic is soooo old-fashioned! Now we're in the era of magical technology! Just take a look through my shop! Here's a toy made with magical science that lets you produce sparks with just a snap of your fingers! Just put a mana stone in here, and…tada! It's not a magical item, so there's no dangerous curse on it! It's practically a steal!

✦✧☾✧✦

Eastern Citizen: …What's with you…huh? …You want ask me about wizards? … …I don't know much about them, so you should ask someone else. And… …Talking to people you don't know is expressly forbidden on this street. …Be more careful.

✦✧☾✧✦

Southern Citizen: Wizards? We've got a few in town! They're all wonderful people! They're always helpin' us out with their magic! Last time, I gave them some butter as thanks! Our butter's delicious, you know! This country's still developing, so we all work together and help one another out! Tornadoes are way scarier than wizards. Just a while ago, one blew away our shed!

✦✧☾✧✦

And wizards' opinions on humans are also quite varied. Country, age, and personality all influenced them.

Riquet: Humans lack the strange power that we do. That is the chosen ones have a great responsibility to guide them.

Cain: What do you mean by "chosen ones"?

Riquet: The pastor of the church I was raised in, and our very own Prince Arthur.

Arthur: I haven't been chosen, or anything like that. I'm just descended from a lineage with a lot of political power.

Riquet: But you're still a wonderful person who regards both wizards and humans equally, without any arrogance in your heart.

Arthur: That's something anyone could do, not only princes.

Riquet: Cain can't do it. He treats everyone equally during the daylight hours, but excludes me once night falls.

Cain: I'm not trying to exclude you from anything. I just think it's a little too early for you to be joining adult conversations.

Oz: … Regarding these adult conversations…

Cain: Don't worry. Arthur doesn't get to join them, either.

Arthur: Even though it's fine for me to join in.

Oz: You are too young for them.

Cain: Shouldn't we be worrying about the fact that Oz doesn't join in on adult conversations first? I mean, you're two thousand years old. You should join us next time.

Oz: …

Riquet: Oz. Join their discussions and report back to me about what they're about.

Arthur: Tell me about them too, Lord Oz.

Riquet: Anyways, we have an obligation to lead those who lack the mysterious power we have down the right path. We must spare no effort in our dedication to this task.

✦✧☾✧✦

Mithra: Humans? Well, I suppose I like them.

Owen: Liar.

Bradley: Man, don't start telling lies about this. I've never heard any stories about Mithra of the North and humans…that had happy endings, at least.

Painting Snow: Now, now. Let's finish hearing him out.

Painting White: You said you like humans, Mithra?

Mithra: Although I don't remember where… When I was a ferryman, I had the job of ferrying human corpses across the lake. I liked being a ferryman.

Owen: I've heard about that, and it sounds like the most boring job in the world. You were just being made to dispose of corpses.

Mithra: Sigh…

Owen: What's that look for.

Mithra: I was thinking about how stupid you are.

Owen: Excuse me? Do you want me to kill you?

Mithra: Anyways, as I was saying, there was a human settlement around there, and this place here was the land of the dead. When one of them died, they'd load the body onto my boat and then summon me. And then I would take the boat to the land of the dead. See. Doesn't that sound fun?

Owen: Not in the slightest.

Bradley: Haha. So Mithra's customers were all dead humans. And he was the only one alive in the land of the dead, yeah?

Mithra: …

Painting Snow: Being alone as a child in such a lonely place must have led to many quiet days.

Painting White: Though it was for funeral purposes, you must have been happy to have had humans beckon you to their side. Weren't you, Mithra dear?

Mithra: Sigh… I never said that. Anyway, humans die, so I like them.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: To be honest, I'm still a little scared of humans. I'm always worried they'll start to hate me once they find out I'm a wizard.

Rustica: But everyone loves you once they get to know you, Chloe. Because you are a truly lovely person.

Chloe: Ehehe… Thank you, Rustica. But after they find out that I'm a wizard, it's harder to get people to want to know me as a person. I wish that people who hate wizards could see me as Chloe the tailor instead of Chloe the wizard. Like, you know what I mean?

Shylock: My, how very philosophical of you.

Chloe: Murr taught me some stuff! About cognition and psychology and stuff like that. Like, how to interpret how other people think of me.

Shylock: …You talked about philosophy with Murr? Are you quite alright?

Chloe: I'm a-okay! But talking to Murr about philosophy was kind of scary, to be honest… But it was also really interesting! Listening to Murr taught me so much about so many things. How can I put it… It was like he was happy that I wanted to learn.

Shylock: Murr has always been an academic at heart. He has always welcomed those who love to learn, and those with naturally curious hearts. Murr, be a dear and come here. Could you tell me everything you talked about with Chloe?

Murr: You don't need to know that!

Shylock: And why not?

Murr: Because you already know it! You don't need words to understand it! You've listened to as many people as there are stars in the sky over the long years you've spent watching over this bar, and touched each and every one of their lives. You know exactly how you look to others. And you know how to look that way, too. You indulge in pleasure and displeasure as much as you want to. With little more than how you move your fingers, where your line of sight falls, how your tone of voice sounds--with even just a single gesture or change in mannerism, you can pluck on the heartstrings of other people and draw them close to you…or push them away. You let people approach and draw back like waves on a beach. I don't have aaaanything to say to someone who's already such a master of interpersonal connections!

Chloe: Wow…! You're amazing, Shylock! But I never expected any less!

Rustica: There's a very good reason everyone finds themselves so taken with you!

Shylock: Fufu… You only ever praise me reluctantly, Murr. What mischief have you gotten yourself up to this time?

Murr: The raisins you were drying out were really tasty, so I ate them!

Shylock: Oh, how cruel… And I was so looking forward to eating them tonight.

Murr: I didn't eat all of them! I was just feeling like a snack, that's all! I made sure to leave some!

Shylock: Then let us share them with everyone.

Chloe: Wah…! Sounds good! I totally get why Murr would want some for a snack!

Rustica: I believe wine would suit them better than tea.

Shylock: Oh, but of course.

Murr: Are you mad?

Shylock: I am not. Now then, shall we all enjoy ourselves again this fine evening?

Murr & Chloe & Rustica: Cheers!

✦✧☾✧✦

Heathcliff: I'm…pretty shy, so… I'm not good with anyone, human or wizard, that I don't already know…

Nero: Yeah, I totally get it.

Heathcliff: It's not that I dislike them or anything like that. It has less to do with who I'm talking to and more with myself… I get worried about if I'm responding to things the way I'm supposed to…

Shino: Of course you are. You're already perfect, Heath. Just look at Faust. He's supposed to be the instructor for us Eastern wizards, but he just bluntly hates humans in general.

Faust: And?

Heathcliff: Shino, don't be rude.

Shino: I wasn't being rude. I was complimenting you.

Heathcliff: …I'm always happy to get compliments from you, but…

Shino: Yeah. Getting a compliment from you always makes me happier than anything, too. You're the son of the East's illustrious House Blanchett and one of the Sage's chosen wizards, after all. Anyone can tell you're beautiful just looking at you, you're smart, and you're always polite. You're almost too perfect to be real. It only takes half a second to fall for you.

Nero: The Blanchett servant's as obsessed with his beloved master as always today. It's kind of refreshing, somehow.

Faust: Even though he's using a nickname for him, there'll always be that bit of distance, huh.

Heathcliff: … You know, I've thought about this before, but the things Shino compliments me on are things that could be about anyone, not just me.

Shino: What are you talking about?

Heathcliff: It's not like being born to the Blanchett family is something I had to work for… The same goes for my appearance, and it's only because I was given the opportunity that I was taught how to properly compose myself as a noble and receive an extensive education… And even my home is something that my parents gave to me.

Shino: Th…

Heathcliff: You never compliment me for anything on the inside. Even though you say I'm too timid and should be more bold…

Shino: There's no way that's true! Right?!

Nero: Don't ask me!

Heathcliff: If I hadn't been born to the family that I was, if I didn't look the way that I do… Would there even be anything about me that you like, Shino? I worry about that sometimes.

Shino: But…

Nero: There's no way that's true! C'mon, Shino! Tell Heath everything else you love about him!

Shino: I… Uh…

Nero: Hello?!

Heathcliff: …See.

Faust: You're a naturally kind person. You're skilled at using your hands, and you're very tenacious. You try to keep a broad outlook on things, too.

Heathcliff: Mr. Faust…

Shino: That! That's what I wanted to say! I just couldn't get it out…

Heathcliff: Oh, I bet.

Shino: I mean it…!!! You know I'm stupid, Heath!!

Nero: Knock it off, Shino! Just stop talking!

Faust: The reason you lack decisiveness is because you try to take the circumstances and standings of the people around you into account as much as you can. Where a normal person might consider ten possibilities, you consider a hundred. I imagine that's why you find it so tiring to be around people for long. And no matter who you are, I'm proud to have you as my student. I don't think I'd have ever considered teaching anyone magic if I'd never met you. Thank you for letting me be someone who could be a good influence, despite being a curseworker who hates the world.

Heathcliff: …Mr. Faust…

Shino: Get your hands off my master, you misanthrope shut-in!

Nero: That's your followup?!

Heathcliff: Thank you so much… I'm really happy to hear you say that…

Shino: Heath! I feel the same way…

Heathcliff: … Uh-huh…

Shino: …! Fine, whatever! It's not like I--! ….Mmgghh…!

Nero: There, there, it's quiet time now. Now, now, don't start cryin' on me.

Shino: Mmmggghhh…!

Nero: Uh-huh, yep, you're not crying even a little bit. Ow…! Don't freakin' bite me!

✦✧☾✧✦

Lennox: How I feel about humans…?

Figaro: Do you even have any feelings about them at all, Leno? Regardless of if who you're talking to is human or wizard, male or female, or what country they're from… You're so bad at handling them, I swear you liked that sheepdog you used to have more than you like me.

Lennox: Huh…? Is that a bad thing…?

Figaro: Man, are you hearing this guy?

Lennox: I mean, it's my dog.

Figaro: I was thinking that between myself and a dog that only knows how to herd sheep the scales would be tilted in my favor, but I see how it is… …That's true love…

Mitile: Have you been drinking, Dr. Figaro?

Rutile: That would be my fault. The Rheita Mountains are cold, so I put a little alcohol into Dr. Figaro's tea, and into my own.

Mitile: What?! When did you do that?!

Figaro: Oh, and that was supposed to be our little secret. But that's not enough to get me drunk, you know.

Mitile: But, the way you were talking about Leno just now, was kind of…

Lennox: Maybe you never noticed, Mitile, but Dr. Figaro talks about me like that pretty often. And it's not like I have a problem with it. It's fine with me, really.

Figaro: But it'd be more fine if I was your dog.

Mitile: The world of adulthood seems complicated…

Rutile: Don't worry, Mitile. I put snow ginger in your tea and in Leno's! I dried it myself! This way, all of us can stay nice and warm! Cheers!

Figaro: Cheers!

Mitile: Jeez… You don't say cheers about regular tea. If you're saying it, it means you think it's like alcohol, and that means you're drunk. Isn't that right, Leno?

Lennox: Yes. I think so, too.

Rutile & Figaro: Ehehe!

Lennox: Well, as long as they don't try to ride their brooms while under the influence, we can stay at a cottage I built in these mountains overnight.

Mitile: Did the two of you live here?

Lennox: Hm?

Mitile: Both you and your sheepdog.

Lennox: Yes, we did.

Rutile: What did you name it?

Lennox: Courir.

Rutile: Wah, how cute! I wish I could've met it. Did you ever get to see it, Dr. Figaro?

Figaro: Yeah, I did. The two of you got along great.

Lennox: We did. I loved that dog even more than you think I did. Maybe even…the most out of anything in the world.

Figaro: Really?

Lennox: Yes. I have someone I would dedicate my life for. But if he wanted me to, I would've thrown away everything for him. But I don't think I could've thrown away my days with Courir so easily.

Rutile: How wonderful… Your lives must have been lovely, living out in nature's splendor like this.

Lennox: Yes.

Mitile: If you couldn't understand each other's words, how did you make sure of how each of you felt?

Lennox: Hmm… We just understood by looking at each other. We could look into each other's eyes and see what was in there, be it fear, or anger… And that doesn't just go for dogs. The same goes for wizards and humans. We all have hearts somewhere inside… And we use our words and voices to represent our hearts. A dog's barking and howling is the same as that. Though we do tell lies sometimes. But the eyes can let us see someone's true colors. Is someone calm, or are they acting weirdly energetic, and so on…

Mitile: …Do you know what's in my heart, too?

Lennox: I do. Just a general image, though. As long as I don't get that outline wrong, then it's fine.

There are so many different kinds of humans and wizards in the world.

Next Chapter

#.mhyktl #.main story tl #.eventtl #4th anni

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autogyne-redacted · 1 year

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hi! i saw your post abt race primacy and was wondering if you'd be able to expand on that a bit more if you feel like it. i am i guess kind of new to the idea that it's possible to talk about racism without doing what the example you posted does.

Yeah, absolutely.

As far as race primacy goes, the basic, short answer is that you can avoid it by not positioning race as fundentally, across the board more important or more fundamental than other characteristics. The "if you're white you're white before anything else" part of my example post.

Prioritizing race is an analytic approach, and it's certainly an important one, but if it's your only one you're going to miss a lot of what's going on.

To give a more thorough answer means getting into a lot of background and exploring the messy entanglements that lead towards race primacy and race reductionism, so buckle up it's gonna be a Long Post.

Most of the patterns I want to criticize here are (imo) the result of taking useful analysis and loosing the nuance, generalizing sloppily, slipping between different definitions of words, being overly dogmatic, or otherwise taking it in less than helpful directions. I'm not saying to throw out these frameworks, just to recognize that they don't represent absolutely and universal truths.

I'm also not opposing any specific language here. Sometimes ppl are casual and say things that communicate perfectly well but would make shitty philosophic positions if you took them literally and held to them rigidly. That's life.

Whether you're looking at how demographic categories correlate with individual actions or they affect how other ppl treat you, race is significant but saying it is always the most significant factor is a wild position.

To give a clear example, and show one path to race primacy, lots of the conservative Christianity is structured and defined first in terms of religion (obviously), and then around lines of Christian / family values and gender.

The Southern Baptist Convention has had a Black president. Women are still explicitly barred from even being pastors. Out gay and trans ppl are excluded pretty completely.

A common approach, to maintain a focus on race is to say that Christianity (or at least the SBC) is a fundamentally white religion and value system. PoC may participate in it, but that as a political and historical force it is solidly on the side of The West, Europe, Colonialism, etc.

I tend to talk about this as abstracting whiteness.

Whiteness often (even if not in our circles here) gets abstracted to talk about shit like cop calling, assimilationism, middle class values, etc.

"White feminism" is a great example of this, where the term can 100% refer to race, or point to middle class, carceral, cis, imperialist, or other shitty tendencies.

If we talk about the shifting boundaries of whiteness, especially looking back to when whiteness was necessary for full legal rights / personhood, whiteness was very directed the thing you assimilated into thru patriotism, middle class achievement, gender conformity, etc. (This is an explicit note that my knowledge is about a US context and I'm sure this shit varies)

There's a bunch of research that shows lots of minority and immigrant groups having initial disadvantages compared to white ppl (measured thru wealth, income, segregation, education, etc) that shrink over time. And a distinct lack of this gap narrowing by most measures looking at Black Americans. Related (at least in part) to this you get some theory abstracting Blackness as that which is unassimilable (some of which is really powerful).

From this and other angles I think it makes a lot of sense why ppl are drawn to abstract whiteness.

However, the second you do that you're no longer talking about race (in a way that can be mapped to individuals). And I (as a white person) am not necessarily any more a part of this abstracted whiteness than any PoC.

And since race (in the individual, traditional sense) does matter, loosening the terms to this point has significant downsides.

You can see similar dynamics at work when ppl constantly fall back on referring to Far Right groups like the Proud Boys and Patriot Prayer as white nationalist / white supremacist groups.

They're very much not. Both have had PoC leaders, and they're centered around Western Male Chauvinism and Christian Nationalism respectively.

But, if you see The West, right wing Christianity and American Nationalism thru the lens of abstracted whiteness, than these are all white supremacist groups.

And like ..... there's clearly something to that. Having PoC leaders by no means makes these groups less racist. But there's also a clear distinction between them and what you're gonna see in a hardine white supremacist group like, say, the Klan.

If you caught the mess a few years ago when a bunch of ppl decided that Chelsea Manning had joined the far right because whiteness is ultimately all that matters, that's a great example of mixing up abstract and concrete definitions of whiteness to reach completely ridiculous conclusions.

I don't wanna go deep in this point because I haven't seen it since I got off of fb years ago, but I want to briefly mention the argument that the gender binary is inherently European, and thus PoC are inherently non-binary. This is another argument where there lots of individual statements that make sense on their own, and then thru some shifting definitions you reach a wild conclusion.

There's tons to talk about in terms of the imposition of binary gender and specific European norms as part of colonialism. (The Coloniality of Gender is what I think of as the classic piece making this argument).

And there's plenty to say in terms of PoC being held to different standards and negatively framed as too masculine or not masculine enough.

But this argument then acts as if no assimilation to gender whatsoever has happened, and as if there are no differences in levels of gender conformity and the social positions these produce. It's extremely weird and imo the kind of position that imo could only be produced thru a tremendous amount of ppl setting aside their critical thinking due to not having the right identities to see these issues as in their lane.

A lot of this comes down to the question of how we name That Which We Oppose. Identity politics really pushed us to frame it in terms of identity, but the world of hardline identity-based structures is largely gone.

Part of what I love about the language of Civilization and Leviathan is that it provides an answer for this question that recognizes the slippery relationship between both individuals and identity-defined groups of ppl and the structures of hierarchy we want to dismantle.

#Long Post #theory #idpol #writing #this is long and self indulgent but i love analyzing discourse #and leftbook fucked me up with this shit so I'm just letting myself go deep in on it #also i said i was gonna cite a bunch of shit but decides this would be a better approach #there's a different version i almost wrote focusing on hiw Black Feminism handles racial gendered and class entanglements #but this is more to the point #or to a point at least idk if it's what you wanted at all anon

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cyberphuck · 10 months

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So, about the story of how I met my dad and why I love him so much

@qthewhatever asked me to talk about my dad, how he became my dad, and our relationship. I thought this was going to be a fun jaunt through good memories, with maybe a few grateful tears along the way. But the story of why my dad is so special to me can't be told without the context of why my mother *isn't* special to me, and the stark difference between how he treats me, and how I was treated by her. The cliff's notes version (do they even have those anymore?): Dad became my dad kind of by accident, when Seb and I started "pretending" to be siblings in order to be able to rent a room together. Dad is Seb's dad, so it follows that since I'm Seb's sibling, Dad is my dad too. Then he just... fell into the role, because dads gotta dad. He is always proud of me, no matter what, and no matter how badly I fuck something up he could never, ever stop loving me. He cares about me and doesn't get annoyed by the ups and downs of my moods. He lets me cry when I need to. He lets me take a break when I need to. He loves me, *really* loves me, so totally and completely that even though we look absolutely nothing alike, no one who has ever seen us together doubts that he's raised me from birth. That's not what it was like with my mom. I only got so far through recounting her decades of abuse before I found that I couldn't do it anymore. I'm still going to post what I have, because I think other people should read it and maybe become comfortable talking about their abuse *as* abuse and not "I'm sure I was doing something wrong somehow, and it was my fault they were always so angry at me." Also, I spent a long time working on it. This is not a happy story. trigger warnings: child abuse, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental illness, mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, mentions of various serial killers, mentions of psychiatric hospitals, autism portrayed in a negative tone, fatphobia, and brief mentions of drugs and drug use. (this story is also not complete; it stops when I'm around 27, but I added an epilogue.)

My family had been in various financial situations throughout my childhood, but I was raised upper middle class, which was the same tax bracket that my mom had been raised in. My biodad, Ichiro (Dave) left when I was three, and I saw him once ten years later and then never again. So mom raised my older brother Nick and I by herself (except for a 3 year stint with Chris the Coke Addict Who's Dead Now) up until I was thirteen.

I'll admit I was not an easy kid to raise. I was (and still am) weird and awkward and autistic and prone to oversharing with strangers as well as long crying spells over seemingly low-importance things. Nick was also sensitive and somewhere on the spectrum, but it was me who was the loud one, the hyper one, the one who people politely said was a "late bloomer" and "marched to the beat of their own drummer" (at one point my mom told me I was "marching backwards.") I refused or forgot to eat so often that at six I became malnourished enough to warrant a visit by CPS. I was always being called into the principal's office for doing weird shit at school, like making potions out of shampoo and throwing them at passing cars or lion-roaring at boys I didn't like or whatever. When I got sick, I got VERY sick, like the time I straight up got Scarlet Fever and almost died, or the time I had a fever so high I started convulsing, or the lots of times that I had to do fasting blood draws every month because I had a very low red blood cell count and no one could figure out why.

Bottom line I was very weird. Mom was weird too, my grandparents were weird, but they knew how to "show" in public. I didn't. Nick's nickname for me was "The Spaz." Worse, I constantly craved attention and had absolutely no concept of Stranger Danger (I still kind of don't), and the year I was born, Richard Ramirez was active and killing in Southern California where my mom and Dave lived. In 1992, Jeffrey Dahmer was arrested and his apartment full of chunks of Milwaukee's queer community was broadcasted all over the news. In 1978, when my mom was a young woman, Mary Vincent was attacked by a man who picked her up while hitchhiking. He assaulted her and then attacked her with a hatchet, cutting both her arms off above the elbow. She has hooks for hands now.

To keep me by her side and not wandering around out in the open, mom told me about all this. Everything-- that Dahmer was killing and eating people, that Ramirez tortured and murdered people, and how Mary Vincent had asked a strange man for a ride and now she had no arms. There's a scene in the beginning of *A Time to Kill* by John Grisham where a young black girl is being raped and tortured by two white men. It's a page or two long, but very graphic, and when I was eight my mom sat me down and made me read it to show me what could happen to me if I went anywhere alone.

At the time, we lived in Lausanne, Switzerland, which is not exactly a hotbed of violent crime.

All that aside, I was a cute kid and a good-looking teenager. I was adorably freckly with never-neat red hair, and then grew into a curvy teen with long red hair and wore cute clothes. Mom bragged to people that I was an author and an artist, and she would often tell me that she loved how 'cool' I was. (cool, in this sense, meant wearing the clothes she bought me and not styling my hair in any way she found ugly. She often pointed out ugly people on TV or on the street, and say something like 'I'm glad YOU don't dress like that.')

I was smart-- I didn't get good grades because I could never get around to doing my homework, but I scored high on tests and most teachers liked me. I wasn't one of the popular kids, but I was always the leader of whatever little gang I was in, deciding where we went and what we did, and mom loved that, too. And she really, *really* wanted me to go into medicine.

Junior and senior year was where it all started to fall apart.

Mom's husband is a veteran with severe PTSD. 2001 - 2005 were the worst years with him; he was overbearing at the best of times and the fact that he was a boomer from Brooklyn and I was a millenial from LA really didn't help us see eye to eye. But he had a hair trigger and would back me against a wall to loom over you and scream in your face. Nick, who was taller and angrier than me, would scream back. Once, Nick was sent to the store for parmesan cheese and came home with the powder kind in the green can instead of the tub of the fancy grated cheese, and the resulting shouting match almost ended in a fist fight.

My depression started getting really bad when I was 17. By 18, I started self-harming, and for the first time had the thought that if I died, if I was gone and were nothing, everything would be better. I also had my first hospitalization.

I'm at 21 inpatient psychiatric stays now.

Worse, I was an adult now and had not transferred gracefully from high school to college (to go into medicine, nothing else was enough for her). I didn't even have a graduation-- I tested out of school in early 2003 and the only pomp and circumstance I got was a half-sheet of paper with 'CALIFORNIA HIGH SCHOOL PROFICIENCY EXAMINATION' printed on it. I had gained a lot of weight, partly due to meds and partly from depression and post-school downtime. She told me my hair looked like a rat's nest and once remarked to her husband, 'look at the size of her!' I no longer wore cute clothes and was not actively trying to turn my art or writing into a profitable career.

Mom and her husband told me that I absolutely had to go back to school again, or they'd kick me out. The closest community college was two counties away (counties in California are really big). They told me they'd only take me to the nearest bus stop (still an hours' drive) and then I'd have to take a three-hour bus ride to the campus. The absolute earliest bus left at six am, which meant that I could only take classes starting at 10 am, and then had to leave by 2 pm to take the bus back home (the return bus did go all the way back to my area, but didn't run as often).

They treated my trek back and forth to campus every day not with pride or pity, but contempt, as in "this is what you get for not succeeding." I had two more hospital stays.

After a particularly bad episode with mom's husband where he tried to force his way through a door and I had to climb out a window to get to neighbor's house and call 911, I moved out to stay with Nick, who had left about a year earlier. I was determined to be an adult and build a life for myself, but my depression and self-harming got steadily worse, and though I had several jobs and tried to go to college, every few months I'd do some serious damage to myself and end up back in the psych ward, pushing all my plans back to zero.

Nick moved in with his girlfriend, leaving me to shoulder the rent on our room on my own. I managed for about six months, but I couldn't stay at any job for long. I went to live with Skittle, where my depression took such a nosedive that a lot of nights were just spent huddled in a ball and sobbing. I felt worthless. I felt like I was nothing.

Skittle and I broke up, and with nowhere to go, I moved back in with my mom. There were short periods thereafter that I would move out again, but basically, after I turned 23, I didn't get away from her again for five years.

Mom was never really happy with me again. I helped out wherever I could, going with her to the ranch where her horses were and volunteering to do all the dirty or hard tasks so she could have more time to ride. I did not and still do not like horses and have no interest in riding them. I went to make her happy. I wanted to do whatever I could to make her like me.

(Mom's ranch friends loved me, because I had been taught to show well in public. With them, I was witty and hard-working, and so sweet to come there to help my mom. Didn't I want to get on a horse, just once? No?)

I brought my mom breakfast and her meds when she woke up, so she could lay in bed while they took effect instead of having to hobble to the kitchen. I did chores around the house. I took the laundry to the laundromat twice a week, and brought them home clean and folded. I walked the dogs and took them to the park.

My mom told me that I was a draw on finances. I started cleaning houses, and eventually lucked into a job cleaning weed for a hefty sum of money. I made enough money in one three-day weekend to buy my own car, which was a good thing since mom's truck was repossessed not long after. I'd gotten the trimming job in November. I sometimes stayed over at the weed guy's house so I could do two or three days of trimming in a row. In December mom told me that all I cared about was money.

Early the next year, my boss was between sales, so he was late paying me. I owed my mom two hundred dollars (I can't remember for what), and she treated me with open hatred for every day I didn't have it. Bitter and upset, I posted something on facebook to the effect of "does anyone know where I can find two hundred dollars so my mom will love me again?" Mom saw it and sent me a message:

"you want to play this game? better not call for a while I better not see you for a while. a person must learn to keep family business private [Jaydee]."

I also got:

“Just sit there and pretend you’re not here.”

“I’m trying to reminisce about happier times, before all this.”

“You know you think it’s all about you, but I had your brother first.”

“If you don’t like the things I say to you, leave and find someplace with someone nicer.”

“Go get a shrink and figure out why you’re like this all the time.”

[epilogue: the next year, I was planning to commit suicide because I saw no other way out. Seb offered to let me stay with him in Texas; my options were Texas, or death. I pondered that for a while. A few weeks later, I got a refund of a Pell Grant from my college that they'd mistakenly taken two years earlier. Mom and her husband made it expressly clear that as soon as the money hit my account, I was to hand it over to them. Instead, I bought a plane ticket, pulled out the rest of the money in cash, wiped my ass with her husband's face towel, and snuck out with two suitcases in the middle of the night. I had left a note for mom saying I didn't want to be abused anymore and told her I was going to stay with a friend in Central California to throw her off my trail. I also told her that if she ever tried to find me, or bothered any of my friends to get information, I would put all of her secrets and records of her abuse on facebook for all her friends and relatives to read.

I didn't see her or speak to her again for nearly ten years, until this May. Then I flipped her off.]

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw verbal abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw mental illness #tw suicide mention #tw self harm #tw depression #tw mental hospital #tw fatphobia #tw my mom sucks

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tianshiisdead · 1 year

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5, 7 and 36!

5. how accurately is your country depicted?

(For Canada) He fits the global stereotype but, like some people have pointed out, I'd have expected him to be a bit more rugged and woodsy loll the amount of people I grew up with who just hiked and camped and mountain climbed and hunted all over the place all the time every weekend 🤯 I'm also from Alb*rta though so my opinions basically mean nothing! Now that I'm living in Ottawa for school, I think Canada should've been meaner underneath his veneer of shy politeness (noah fence to Ontarians I'm just not used to how you guys interact with each other kdjslhgf)

(For China) Hmm this is a difficult question ngl LOL there are some things that I was super pleasantly surprised about, Hima once said he made China more cold and cruel/intimidating seeming but after meeting actual Chinese people ended up making him more cutesy, I think the affection for pandas and hello kitty and cute things is accurate, these things are popular in China! I like that he's a little bad-tempered and irritable with western countries and the way he's proud and overbearing and clearly ancient both in a humourous grandpa way and in a serious and slightly tragic way.

However, parts of his characterization bother me a little... low-hanging fruit, but I hate 'aru' deeply and with a passion, whether or not the concept of Chinese people saying 'aru' really did come from the colonial era, it's just tired either way and I cringe whenever I hear it. I don't love how clumsy and stupid he acts, like I think it's cute in an isolated way, but in the greater context...

Ultimately, I don't think it's horribly egregious. A lot of Chinese and Sino diaspo fans enjoy his character and/or have interpretations that still clearly have their roots in canon, and I'm personally fairly satisfied with it. Oh, and one thing I loved is how originally all of the provinces were supposed to be their own characters who live in China's house! I wish Hima had brought that up more than once, I love that idea.

7. food-related headcanons?

MAN ok hmm! China has 8 great food regions, Anhui, Cantonese, Fujian, Hunan, Jiangsu, Shandong, Szechuan and Zhejiang, and I'd imagine he can cook them all, but as Han Chinese culture has always been more concentrated in the vaguely more Southern regions, I'd imagine he'd prefer relatively more Southern food... dishes from Dongbei and Inner Mongolia, the north, in general, all have heavy influences from Mongolia and northern groups, and tend to be more wheat, butter, and milk heavy. and I'd imagine he's lactose intolerant and prefers rice LOL although he still enjoys Northern food that he can digest! For an example, breakfast.

I think China likes to make food from scratch sometimes taking days at a time to cook, but also enjoys instant noodles (though he modifies them and adds eggs and veggies) and pre-made food but he would never admit it. This is based off of canon, but he also likes fusion food and international food! Hotpot with cheese-filled rice cake and fried chicken, salmon sashimi was popular in parts of China for a while recently iirc, he's just a big foodie who likes a variety of flavours. He's very adventurous.

I think he likes to cook most of his meals but goes out for breakfast a lot, before a meeting or while out on his morning walk he just swings by one of Beijing's many breakfast stalls for a doufunao, some youtiao, shaobing, some doujiang, etc. I can't speak on Southern breakfasts, but when he spends time down there, I imagine they would also have a lot of cheap and fast breakfast shops, though the food is very different.

General headcanons: I think when he's tired he just gets a flavourless bowl of congee with some salted duck egg for breakfast, and that when one of his kids are sick he makes them steamed eggs and boiled pear soup. He has a strong grasp on the different elements of food in Chinese medicine and can integrate it into his cooking easily! He also makes his own xiancai (pickled veg) and has a doujiang machine for homemade fast soy milk. His cabinet filled with spices and vinegars and chili oils and cooking wine and so on and so forth is this huge walk-in closet of a place organized with homemade labels and filled from the top to the bottom. When he cooks, he has several stoves going at a time, frying and boiling and steaming and chopping all at once, before celebrations like new years he spends days in the kitchen. The only thing he doesn't make from scratch himself for celebrations are dumplings, while he's working away everyone gathers around the cleared-off dining table and Macau shapes the dough and they all make dumplings together and Hong Kong puts weird fillings in some dumplings as pranks and Taiwan folds them into cute little animal shapes and fills them with brown sugar.

I have a lot of things to say about food but if I say anymore it'll turn into a book, so I'll leave it at that for now hehe maybe I'll make a proper post on it's own sometime!

36. if you could, what event would you host?

Hmm maybe one for OCs, or minority/native culture OCs! I don't think it would get enough traction, but I'd also love to host a China based event LOL I just don't think there would be enough people to participate :')

#ask #ask game #kitaychan #hetalia #hws china #long post #food #thank u for the askk mwah

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microlm · 1 year

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“Fodlan’s insular culture” as proven by…Shamir being one of Rhea’s top officials, Petra and Dedue attending the academy, AG’s Sreng and Duscur paralogues, Adrestia and Leicester having warm water ports they use extensively for trade with outside nations? Almyra pillaging for funsies, Nader talking about looting Faerghus to bring home “souvenirs?” The Western Church (closest to Adrestia btw) hating the Central Church because they’re mad that Rhea isn’t racist? Hopes Claude is a selfish, opportunistic weathervane rewritten to make waifu emperor not look so bad in comparison, don’t insult our intelligence by trying to make excuses for the story butchering him and Almyra. Good luck trying to pin that as Byleth’s fault too when Byleth opposes waifu emperor on 3/4 routes in Houses and Claude not being swayed by them or Ms Emperor, and by the fact that not recruiting Byleth on SB has them persuading Claude of Edelgard’s bad intentions.

Rhea literally did nothing wrong, Claude is just a character the devs didn’t really give a shit about and wrote poorly in one game to save time and wrote poorly in another to deflect from their waifu character’s bad actions.

Some of this I'm going to just copy & paste what I've written elsewhere because...I already wrote it so might as well reuse it!

“Fodlan’s insular culture” as proven by…Shamir being one of Rhea’s top officials, Petra and Dedue attending the academy,

"Tokens and exceptions are not proper rebuttals to things that are stated to be systemic issues. Rhea the individual may hire foreigners, but Rhea the archbishop isn’t exactly attempting to improve things overall for all foreigners, because again, Lorenz directly cites the church as a reason why they should reject contact with foreigners. Claude directly sites the church as being the reason why official diplomatic channels were never established with foreign nations, and Dimitri does not disagree. Edelgard directly states that the Central Church was used to uphold colonization of Duscur and Sreng. And outside of Cyril or Shamir who are under Rhea’s employ, the only foreigners we see outside of the literal underground slums are people hiding their backgrounds, political prisoners, or people who were colonized by Faerghus."

AG’s Sreng and Duscur paralogues. Adrestia and Leicester having warm water ports they use extensively for trade with outside nations?

Sometimes insular policies still have trade at the ports, while limiting what is allowed in. See japan under the sakoku policy. It doesn't change the fact that apparently no official diplomatic channels exist. Also the existence of conflict and the taking of land while expelling/slaughtering it's original inhabitants isn't exactly something you want to use as a positive example of good international relations.

Almyra pillaging for funsies, Nader talking about looting Faerghus to bring home “souvenirs?”

Indeed, I have always had a problem with IS' onesided portrayal of Fodlan's conflicts with the outside. There's hints that there's something deeper and more nuance--like Sreng having it's southern half taken, both of Cyril's parents dying, Brigid being invaded by Adrestia first historically--but there is never enough focus on those perspectives. And 3Hopes' made it worse with regards to Almyra, and I can't say I'm too fond of some other choices they made regarding Sreng. But that's probably not what you're here to discuss.

The Western Church (closest to Adrestia btw) hating the Central Church because they’re mad that Rhea isn’t racist?

Yeah, the western church does suck! I hope Dimitri goes through with making a northern church in GW.

Hopes Claude is a selfish, opportunistic weathervane rewritten to make waifu emperor not look so bad in comparison, don’t insult our intelligence by trying to make excuses for the story butchering him and Almyra. Good luck trying to pin that as Byleth’s fault too when Byleth opposes waifu emperor on 3/4 routes in Houses and Claude not being swayed by them or Ms Emperor, and by the fact that not recruiting Byleth on SB has them persuading Claude of Edelgard’s bad intentions.

I think the story does him and Almyra wrong in a lot of ways, I just don't agree with where it does him wrong and where the emphasis of those critiques lie. I've never blamed Byleth for anything?? "Claude doesn’t look to Byleth to see whether or not he should attack Rhea, but Claude having Byleth as an ally means that he has a direct line to the new archbishop of the Central Church to change its current doctrines. In VW, he doesn’t mind joining with the weakened Central Church because Rhea has already been deposed, and the one who now heads the church agrees with his ideals. In CF, Rhea is still in power, so he doesn’t join with Faerghus.

However, Byleth choosing to attack Rhea doesn’t move him to attack Rhea because in the war, Rhea is only one side of the equation--the other side is Edelgard wanting to conquer the continent. Byleth’s decisions alone don’t move Claude, and that’s a misrepresentation of what Byleth being his ally actually means for Claude."

And I enjoyed Claude's betrayal in SB! In SB he didn't hold any cards because he was defeated in his initial attempt to hold ground, unlike GW. As a result, he is unable to solidify the Alliance as a united entity to push back against the Empire, losing both Ordelia and Gloucestor as Imperial vassals in the process. Lorenz even chooses to neglect his own responsibilities as an Alliance noble in favor of currying favor wit the Empire. Claude can't use Edelgard and freely manuever as much in SB. But there was never a sense that it was an entirely willing process, Claude even says it was under duress. That's why Byleth being a military trump card also against Edelgard gave him the push he needed to openly push back against her. That's kind of what Byleth tends to be: a card that can be used for his goals (and a friend but like let's not pretend he's not also using them). But also keep in mind, that he is also against the Kingdom and the Church in this betrayal scenario, so even there he is displaying that he is his own faction. He's neither fully allied with Dimitri or Edelgard or Rhea. His flexibility is my favorite quality of his.

#fe3h #claude discourse #i guess I should have a tag for that in case someone wants to mute it lol

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odds-tales · 1 year

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The Proposition (rewritten)

Hans sat in his Cell on the way back to the southern isles, he expected to feel dread or something negative but really he just felt numb. He thought back to his plan and how royally he messed it up. He saved Elsa, everything could have gone to plan if he didn't save her.

Why did he save her? She was a pawn, if he had just let her die he would have won. The Duke would have taken the fall and Hans would have been seen as a charming prince doing his best. Unlucky number thirteen until the end. He would be lucky to live when he got home. The shadows of the bars on his cell wall cemented his hopelessness.

Hans was Jarred from his thoughts by a scream above him. Shooting, shuffling and the clashing of swords. He rose to his feet and leaned against the bars, he caught a glimpse of fire outside the door. A short chubby man with spectacles he didn't recognize peeked on unbothered. "Capn! There's a man in here!" He called, leaving before Hans could question him.

The next stranger to walk in was a scrawny looking man in a red coat that looked a little big on him. He looked a little outdated in terms of his fashion. He had long black hair tied back and dark brown eyes looking intently at him. "Prince Hans it's a pleasure to meet you, I am Captain James the mysterious." He said giving a polite bow.

"You've heard of me?" Hans questioned. "It's hard to not hear about a prince with such an... interesting history." He responded. "You know why I'm in this Cell?" Hans asked with an unreadable expression. "I could always use new crew members. Since I'm feeling polite I'll give you two options will you take this ship....or sail under my flag?" He asked.

Hans raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of how to respond. The current ship he was on was apparently on fire, so if he chose that option he would most certainly be left to die. Hans looked at the captain his smug expression got on Hans's nerves. He wouldn't work for him forever, he'd simply stroke his ego a bit and take James out when the time is right. He wouldn't be outsmarted.

"I'll sail with you... Captain." He said straightening his posture." James unlocked Hans Cell with the keys on the opposite side of the wall , the door swung open with a creak. "Excellent choice Hans." He said leading him through the flames on the burning ship with an unnerving nonchalance he noticed a few crew members pouring the loot into a big chest.

"An eye for treasure eh?" James asked as if they didn't just meet in an extremely dangerous situation. "Doesn't everyone?" Hans responded with a smirk. "You'll make your cut of the loot soon, I pay my men well. In the meantime do you read any good books?" James asked. "Always a fan of adventure books." Hans responded. "Then you're in good company, why don't you have some tea in my quarters?" James suggested gestureing to a door.

Hans hesitated, he didn't really want to be alone with a pirate. Then again looking at his thin body and well groomed handsome face his fear disappeared quickly. "Of course." He replied confidently, he was more of a threat than this pathetic captain.

James led the moron into his office, it was obvious Hans was sucking up to him. He didn't trust many men as far as he could throw them but Hans? He was a documented liar the guard he questioned had filled him in about how he had tried to kill the princesses of Arendelle. Still, it would be nice to have someone besides Smee reading with him, shame it wouldn't last. What other reason would a Prince have to stare so intently at him? He smiled a little wider opening the door for Hans. He had learned long ago not to turn his back on new members.

Hans walked in his boots hitting the wooden floor hard, he was surprised to see an actual porcelain tea set. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't the truth. "One lump or two?" James asked sitting down excited for his first intellectually stimulating conversation in months, Hans thought about the burning ship they were sailing away from and smiled. To everyone else he was dead, he sat down and replied. "Two."

youtube

#traitorous bastards crossover au #disney #captain hook #fanfic #peter pan #the pirate fairy #frozen #frozen hans #prince hans #crossover #disney crossover #fanfiction #Youtube

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kidnappedbycartoons · 2 years

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Realistically, if Zuko and Katara were to get together, it probably wouldn't happen until they were in their late 20s or early 30s. I see Katara and Aang being together for a few years before they realize that they work better as friends than partners. They break up in their early twenties. Zuko and Mai canonically break up in the comics and I'm keeping it as that. They broke up in their late teens.

Katara is an ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe and is heavily involved with politics and restoring balance to the world. Because of this, she meets with world leaders a lot and this means she runs into Zuko. The two already have a strong friendship that was established in the series, but as they begin to spend more time with each other and visit each other, they start to see the other in a different light. Maybe those feelings were always there but they swallowed them down? Who knows.

The one to recognize their feelings first is Zuko. He keeps it hidden though, out of respect for Aang and also because he doesn't know if Katara would see him that way. Eventually, she does and she is actually the one to confess her feelings. The two begin dating and there is some pushback from both the Fire Nation and the Southern Water Tribe, but not enough to deny their union.

As for the gaang, Sokka and Suki are happy for them and they had a bet on who would confess first (Suki won). Toph doesn't care that much, but is happy for them. It takes Aang some time to get used to it, but eventually he sees how happy and well suited they are for each other that he becomes their biggest cheerleader. And Iroh saw this coming a mile away. When the two marry, they incorporate traditions from both of their cultures and even though Katara is the Fire Lady now, she is still heavily involved with the Water Tribes.

When their eldest child is ready to take the throne and Zuko abdicates from the throne, the two most of their year in the Southern Water Tribe, but spend the summers in Ember Island. And yes. Katara gets a statue and recognition for her role in ending the hundred year war, bringing peace to the world, her involvement in politics and world affairs, and is known as one of the best Water Benders of all time.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #zutara #atla katara #atla zuko

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

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Please note I when refer to south or southern, Im referring to south east/west United States.

Howdy Pinnie, this ask will determine if I throw hands with the mushroom man.😤

What fuel does he prefer when grilling and smoking ?

Wood : A wonderful fuel for grilling and smoking. Tho it does take a while to get the full flavor experience. The wood provides a delicious smokey taste and depending on the wood the meat can get a sweet taste to it as well.

Charcoal: A solid choicemperhaps not able get a strong smokey taste or not able get the sweet taste that wood can get. but its still gives the meat a good smokey taste.

Propane: a fast and somewhat clean way of grilling. Your best type for cooking meat fast but can lack full flavor.

IF THAT MUSHROOM PICKS PROPANE, WE FIGHTING. I DON'T CARE IF DIE , IM FIND A WAY BACK TO COME BACK LIFE SOMEHOW AND TANNING THAT POOR EXCUSE OF A SOUTHERN CHIEF HIDE UNTIL THAT TAIL OF HIS IS FLAT.

(😆 please don't take this to seriously. Honestly all choices of fuel have their ups and downs. Each can produce delicious food 😋. Just personally I prefer wood as explained above. ) It's a very southern thing to debate grilling fuel 🤣🤣. Also Tanning your hide where I'm from is an expression basically saying your going to whip that person's ass. 🤣🤣 Tail also another way to say butt.

Also saying something like Bless your heart/soul is can actually be an insult. It's for sure way to cause a fight. Its a more polite fuck you. Depending on if you say it with conniving attitude or your actually trying to be nice.

I imagine Morrell is south eastern given his swamp upbringing. Southwest is more famous for its deserts and while Southeast for its swamps and forests.

Thank you for educating me, I'm dumb as a door. I haven't really decided where exactly he comes from, but I'm leaning towards Southeast as you said.

Though Morell is an odd mixture of a lot of things, since not all his family members are from the same place, and he's also picked up on different mannerisms/expressions/idioms from working at The Clergy. He tries to keep some of his more southern quirks buried at work, getting a little embarrassed when he catches himself without filter.

I think he uses all of them, switching depending on how many resources he has in storage or how many clients he has to juggle at a time. A big part of his job is being able to adapt whenever it's necessary, so he has to know how to handle different methods at least decently.

His preference would no doubt be wood however, it reminds Morell of home. And everything done in the comfort of one's home, with family, always tastes better.

#Morell oc #tiredidot

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fearofahumanplanet · 2 years

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I've honestly just been contemplating what Vermont is like all day so far, like, idk maybe my perception is fucky because I'm a skier but I fully did not expect Vermont to be hick?? Like????? That's where the bougie ski resorts are ski manufacturers are, what do you mean they're surrounded by hicks?

(This very chill ask game is kinda fun ngl @andromedatalksaboutstuff)

Okay for some context to everyone who isn't Andi: I was born in Vermont and I was telling him about how perplexing its mere existence is. Now, my perspective is that of a poor person, so I have no idea what's going on in the ski industry, but when it comes to the rest of it....

Like, just to illustrate how fucking weird this state is (obviously this is all anecdotal):

The culture and aesthetic, I think, can be best described as some bizarre mixture of standard New English, Canadian, and Southern (???)

The houses and such are all very New English. Everyone in Vermont seems to love hockey an absurd amount (don't go to a sports bar during the Stanley, you will die a horrible death from your ears bleeding out) and we're basically renowned for our maple syrup, so we've got all the Canadian stereotypes. Also Vermont's politics are mostly incredibly left, especially by American standards - they have pretty much always been a very blue state, the queer acceptance is off the charts (there's still some shitheads in rural areas, but would you expect anything else?) like it tends to be one of the very first states to pass any queer bills whatsoever

I say "mostly" because everyone in Vermont has a goddamn gun. Literally everyone. There's actually not much crime there that I've ever seen, mostly bc if you tried to rob a store fifteen patrons would draw guns on you and shoot you dead. Now I'm pro-gun control, for the record, to a LARGE degree, however seeing the way this shit works in a mostly leftist state is incredibly odd. I'm pretty sure I knew how to fire a rifle before I knew how to talk

The Southern culture exists in that everyone in Vermont ever seems to spend all their time fishing, drinking, four-wheeling, hunting, or otherwise giving Cabela's good reason to put up twenty-five stores in every square mile of this state. (Don't bring up Bass Pro in Vermont, you will spark a lynch mob). Which is really bizarre in combination with its politics? Also, everyone listens to country and classic/Southern rock for some reason, like, compulsively, everywhere.

The FOOD is great. It's all a bunch of East Coast standards, a lot of seafood (a LOT of seafood) and (again, oddly) a lot of Southern staples (chili in particular I tend to find a lot)

We also have a lot of odd vernacular and slang that I've never seen literally anywhere else. Like they say "hamburg" to separate hamburger meat from hamburger (as in the full meal), or they say "idear" instead of idea (?????)

Every winter is just a war waged upon the inhabitants by Mother Nature. It is quite common to have to dig out of your own goddamn home when it snows over, and Vermonters ELEVATE THEIR HOUSES TOO. Also, the hail is no joke, that shit will take your head off (literally)

There aren't that many big cities outside of Burlington and even that is only big in comparison to Vermont and not the whole of America, most people just live in scattered rural towns and/or ass-deep 2 miles into the woods away from civilization (I used to do that and I miss it)

Literally everyone is white and yet I have seen very little racism in Vermont for some reason (it exists, don't get me wrong, it exists everywhere, but comparatively?? very little). Also a lot of religious nutjobs but the only problems I've had being trans and gay in Vermont came exclusively from my family, who I do not think are indicative of the entire state (my family is batshit insane, for the record)

Also I don't think this is indicative of the entire state either but my aunt literally has a full decked-out bar in her basement, it's not public or anything it's just her personal bar that looks like it got plucked out of a noir novel. People in Vermont are just incredibly weird

Oh yeah and sometimes I'd have bears wander into my front yard. You know, as you do. :P

#besties tag #asks

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john-langley-bristol-blogger · 4 months

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#Bristol_Election_2024.

Someone once described me as being about as subtle as a chainsaw because I've always spoken my mind, regardless. Having spent many years living up in the Northwest where speaking one's mind is pretty much de rigueur, speaking openly may ruffle many a feather or two, however, there is also an amount of respect given for people being honest with one another, and someone would have to have exceptionally weak back vertebrae to be as ready to take offense as southerners would. I guess that's always been one of the main differences between what was very much the industrial north, and the white-collar south.

I'm one of those marmite people, so, you'll either take to me, or you won't. There's no in-between at all. Am I bothered either way? Absolutely not, because none of us can be all things to all people, and, quite frankly, you don't pay for the roof over my head, my bills, or the food on my table, so, why should I even care? I own myself 100%, and that's what matters to me more than anything else. Take it, or leave it. Like it, or lump it. Your choice entirely. I will still be my honest self, and speak my mind.

Therefore, when it comes to the bullshit I read and hear it will be unsurprising that I pass comments, as my social media and blog site respectively reflect. Take, for instance, the splash headlines regarding the Royal Highmesses William, and Kate. Actually no, I'll take that back. It's the two ex-pats that are Highmesses. Never mind, the point being a bloke of royal personage visits his wife in hospital and it's reported as being something groundbreaking for him to do. He'd better watch it or he'll be starting a whole new trend before we know it, and Okay magazine will be heralding the royal prince as the next best thing to the second coming. Utter bullshit! Ah, well, I suppose on the brighter side it makes a change from stories such as Wolverhampton's Sandra, who had her toenails clipped by a gorilla while on safari at Whipsnade.

Of course, if you really want the real deal where bullshit of the highest possible level is concerned, look no further than our politicians, the grandmasters of it. If there was ever a Nobel Prize for bullshit, Britain would probably win time, and time again. Did that seem at all biased, by the way? Okay, so maybe it'll be between us lot on this side of the pond, and Trump on t'other. You know what I mean. Anyway, sticking to this side of that great divide known as the Atlantic, right now we have a choice between Titchy Suitsize in number ten, and Schizoid Starmer in wait, and not in number ten. I won't even bother mentioning the Postmasters/Mistresses all-time favourite, Second class Davey who, despite recent revelations of him being perhaps, one of the all time great political bullshitters, isn't worth any further tapping of the keyboard. Oh yes, let's not forget the Greens, but there again.

So, moving quickly on, is there anyone actually out there with a beating heart who still, and wholeheartedly believes in our politicians, I wonder, or is that pig I see flying past my window as I type going to stop and ask how my day is going? Maybe Red Rum will resurface as the winner of this year's Grand National, who knows? For sure, I don't. That's why, for the most part, I let it all drift by as being potentially harmful to my chakras - wherever they are! You see, I did once, possibly twice, and potentially three times take an interest in politics and being elected on both a local and national basis, and, perhaps more surprisingly, without the intervention of a psychiatrist - despite my neurodivergency diagnosis.

Although, and it's a big ALTHOUGH, I have to declare my surge of interest towards standing again, and I'm almost convinced it has nothing whatsoever to do with the medication I'm on. In fact, I've taken great lengths in doing my research as to potential side effects, and so far, there are no contraindications that in any way suggest the manifestation of political hallucinations when digesting pills for a malfunctioning pancreas, arterial sclerosis, and emphysema. Although there's still time yet, and who knows, I may well be on morphine by the time the next election, and if I am, then this is likely to be an election no one in Bristol will forget! It'll either be the best or worst ever, so, if I were you I'd begin crossing my fingers, revert to your by now dusty rosary beads, start going to whatever place of worship takes your fancy, or, keep both legs crossed and hope you don't start a leakage pattern anytime soon.

I'll have you know I've spent a great many seconds giving thought to why I should stand again, sometimes even minutes - spaced out of course. No, I'm not saying I've been spaced out, fool. Just that the opportunity is being considered as to what I would have to offer as a potential candidate, other than a much-needed sense of humour to deal with all the crap that would come my way, given my well documented, and superbly, illustrious past. Perhaps I should ask myself again. So, please hold, and enjoy the ambient sounds of subliminal whales in mating season against crashing waves while I check. You'll feel so much better in yourself for doing so. I can almost, but not quite guarantee it as you begin to breathe and relax.

Have you breathed? Excellent, it does help. Especially as I may require you to still be around with functioning lungs whenever the election is in progress. Please remember, at all times that votes are counted as null and void when you're six feet under.

That said, I have now fully consulted with myself, and adjudication was deemed unnecessary on this occasion.

Of course, it goes without saying that I also have a very serious side, and this is where I segue into questioning where the real people are in politics. Now, when I say 'real' I'm referring to ordinary folks, like myself. Those who haven't benefitted from a university degree, or a cosseted upbringing. Not that I have anything against that, of course, as everyone has their part to play. Or do they? Where's the roadsweeper who made his way up the ladder to become a director of the company? Where's the care home worker who, after years of wiping backsides enters politics because their experience gives them something to offer that's based on hard work? Where's the bus driver who climbed that ladder over many years to reach a senior level within his company, or the postman who, just like former MP Alan Johnson, entered politics? Where are these ordinary, working-class people? More importantly, where in parliament is there a balance between those who have had the benefit of university degrees and those who have not?

To me, this present system feels somewhat elitist with, in general, people who have never had to live through the voracities of life, and who don't know what hardship really means because it's never been part of their journey, and, to Labour's credit, at least they have names such as Angela Rayner, who was brought up on a council estate and began her working life as a care worker. Using a well-known saying - she literally is "one of the few, not the many" in politics today. Again, Raynor is one of those typically down-to-earth northerners who speaks her mind and tells you what you need to know, rather than what you want to hear - in no uncertain terms. You get the cake with no icing, unlike just about everyone else within the higher echelons of frontline national politics.

There's a class war within politics I don't resonate with, perhaps even a certain snobbery regarding the selection process for those we elect, of which I go against the grain. I'm an outsider who has never toed the line of life, as most people would know it, they find it uncomfortable. There is little they can relate to about my life because few have done the things I have. Am I about to change in a way that would please others? Absolutely not, because I am not a people pleaser As I said before, I am my own person, and therefore presumed to be a danger to the status quo. Which, of course, is total bullshit. Besides, as I've also said before, we cannot please all of the people all of the time, and who would want to anyway?

So, I would stand for election as an independent, simply because, to my mind, it is fairer to the electorate by not being bound to a party whip, not playing the favourites game, and being freely able to decide in my own best opinion and based on the evidence presented, what provides the best possible and fairest outcome all around given the circumstances laid out before me at that time. I've seen how Bristol has declined faster than a Japanese kamikaze pilot over recent years under Labour's Mayoral leadership, and it concerns me that the council may be teetering on 'special measures' - even though it may well be regarded by some as a bit of a stretch. I don't know what it is, or where it comes from, I just have this acute gut feeling that all is not well concerning the city's finances, and whatever's there and amiss will become apparent following the departure of our current elected mayor.

In my honest opinion, the administration of Bristol will require exceptionally long bootstraps to pull itself up by, and I have some continued hard thinking to do.

#john langley blog #john langley author #john langley bristol writer #john langley tumblr #bristol #election 2024 #bristol election 2024 #Bristol Live #Marvin Rees #Bristol Mayor

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psychologeek · 6 months

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(I'm crying 😢)

My translation probably suck, bc it's 3 AM, i didn't sleep more then 3 hours for a month, and my hands are shaking.

I'm just... going to cry a bit. Yes.

(I heard this story during the first week, and there's a lot more to it. May add later.)

Watch it!

Title: Little Heroine

*scream* "help us!"

Girl: Lia! Lia!

Narrator: that's a recording of Romi, that wittily cried for help. That cry saved her and her baby sister's life.

Girl: No, please, no!

Man1: lay down, lay down!

Man2: No fire, no fire!

Man1: police, police, police

Girl: you're police?

Man (on radio): we have a (female) killed here

Girl: You're of Israel (police)?

Man: yes, sweetheart, yes

Girl: take us

Man: we'll take you

Girl (crying): take us

Narrator: all of a sudden showed up a man who heard her cry, pulled the two of them out of the car, and moved them to safty.

Man: come

(Big explosion in the background, shooting is heard all the time)

Girl: I'm here with a baby!

Man: you're okay, I'm with you.

Baby: no

Girl: no, save us

*loud shooting in the background*

Man2: officer down! Come, come here!

Man? : where are they? (The girls)

Man: stay with the girls. I'll be here,you go with the girls!

Narrator: with pure luck, the rescuer came across Yinon, who went armed to the prayers at the synagogue and came across the situation.

(Yinon) manage to smuggle the girls with him to his home Mamad (shelter/safe room.)

Grandma: "Granny, we wanted to go out of town, and as we were by 7 (the southern exit) the car stopped, we stopped. There was boom, boom, boom. Granny, there were many booms"

G: then, when she told me that, I still don't know that her parents are dead. Not yet.

"and one man came... And people came and took daddy and I didn't see anymore"

And then I said "ok, and what about mom?"

Then she told me "granny, she had lots of blood. I talked to her and she didn't answer. I think that she's dead, granny."

Officer: hi.

Man: those two (pointing)

Man: do you remember us? Yes? Wow.

Officer: she didn't.. she screamed "Help us, Help us!"

Woman: she's always polite

Officer: and as I arrived, she sayed one sentence that completely tore me apart.

She told me: "I don't want my sister to die."

(turn to the girl) do you remember?

Officer: And then I told her "stand on my leg, we run." She (point at the baby) didn't want to get out of the car. She was terrified to death. She didn't want. That's why I picked her up.

(Looking at Romi, the girl): She's the hero. She's the greatest hero.

Narrator: And that's how Little Romi and Lia were saved. Alone, without their parents. Now they are in a safe place, hugged, and only little Lia asks, from time to time,

"How could we go see mommy and daddy?"

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