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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Uhh for the prompt meme, 3 & 13 gives me Anakin and the Jedi Babies vibes, so Jango or Jaster & Anakin or Soka or Ben maybe?

390 Prompts!!!! 3. “Am I supposed to be scared of you?” 13. “BOOM! That oughta show you not to mess with me!”

IDK if I’ll get the actual line in but I’ve been meaning to write a bit about Jango and Sokanth, at minimum. Jango is just barely fifteen, Soka is two. She has very vague memories of her teen self.

EDIT: I GOT THE LINE IN

Objectively, Jango’s main connection to Anakin Skywalker should have been professional.

It wasn’t.

Jango hadn’t been one of the soldiers to bring in the little family. He’d heard about it after they’d already been taken to medical, arrived just in time to see them muttering about how fancy the prosthetic arm was as they removed it--frostbite risk, they said--and stripping the Jedi of his sodden robes. The man was only a few years older than Jango, and covered in battle scars. Attractive, maybe, but Jango wouldn’t be able to even think of that until he wasn’t staring at blue lips on a half-dead face.

“How did he know we were here?” he asks his father, stepping up beside the man at the overlarge window of the ‘secure’ medical room, and receiving half a glance in response.

“He didn’t,” Jaster says, looking supremely unhappy with the entire situation. “Had no idea who I was, when he saw me.”

“He talked to you?”

“For about five seconds before he passed out.” Jaster smiles, thin and grim. “We found an Ident card. It’s got a name, a few details that don’t make sense... we think it might have been prepared for a long-term mission in system with a non-standard calendar; the dates are in the future if we assume it’s Republic.”

“Weird,” Jango mutters. “He doesn’t look much like a Jedi.”

“Adi’ka, you’ve never met a Jedi,” Jaster scoffs, cuffing him on the shoulder.

“Jedi don’t wear black leather,” Jango argues, glancing at the nearest pile of cloth.

Jaster rolls his eyes. “He had four lightsabers on him, if that’s what you’re looking to ask.”

“Haran.” Jango whistles lowly, impressed despite himself. “What’d he need that many for?”

“The brown robes were too short for him,” Jaster says, voice not quite loud enough to carry. “And the other set were fit for a female youngling, even shorter.”

He hadn’t been alone.

And now he was.

“Bodies?” Jango asks.

“None dead,” Jaster says. “And the living are... far too young to match up.”

He gestures, and Jango belatedly sees the tiny, tiny things in cribs to the side.

Jango swears, quiet and angry. He’d heard there were children, but he hadn’t expected anyone quite that small.

Jaster takes the cursing in stride. “They’re estimating the human at six months. Togruta’s maybe two years. Jedi was damn near dead when they found him, but the kids seem fine. Medics are guessing it’s something to do with the Force, because neither of them were even that cold.”

“Any idea how he knows them?”

“Nothing yet, just that he cares about them like they’re his own,” Jaster says. “Scouting party claimed he said they were family. Even used Mando’a, called them aliit. We’re going to keep them together until we know more. No use accidentally enraging a Jedi by separating him from family, if that’s what they are. The Togruta seems to know him, at least.”

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to have families.”

“You also thought Jedi weren’t supposed to wear black leather.”

Jango huffs and turns away from his father, focusing in on how the medics are starting to pack in blankets on the man’s chest while they get to work on the thigh wound. It looks already cauterized, maybe a blaster, but that can still get infected damned easily. Jango’s seen it happen before.

“Can the togruta talk yet?”

“Only enough to ask for her... carer?” Jaster hazards. “She refers to him as ‘Skyguy’ and it’s been pretty much the only word she’s said that isn’t gibberish.”

Jango almost asks if they’re sure it’s not just Togruti.

Even as he watches the area below, the toddler starts crying. A few of the medics dart glances over, but they're busy with the adult. The crying starts increasing in pitch, heading to dangerous territory, and a number of people abruptly remember that a Togruta's cry is much more likely to destroy eardrums than a human child's.

Jango hesitates, but turns from his father and heads for the door. Nobody comments.

Jango slips into the room as quietly as a teenager in most of a beskar kit can, and goes over to the cribs that have been hastily set up. The human infant is quiet, blinking sleepily and furrowing their little brow, but the toddler has gotten to her feet, clinging to the bars and screaming her little head off. He stops in front of her and... tries to figure out what to do.

"Weks?"

He has no idea if that's a word. She's stopped screaming at least, is just rubbing her eyes free of tears and peering up at him. She hiccups.

"Hi," he says, unsure of what else to do.

"No weks," she seemingly decides, and her lip trembles. Kriff. "Obi-obi?"

"I don't know what you're saying," he tells her, but offers a hand that she immediately grabs for. "Do you know Basic?"

"Ya!" she cheers, and then starts trying to climb out of the crib. Jango panics and picks her up, because he's pretty sure this might be a Jedi baby, and if it's a Jedi baby, then what if she can float? He can't deal with an upset, floating baby. Better he just pick her up.

"Hi," he repeats, still unsure of what to do with this small child. She frowns at him, deep in thought, and pats at his face like she's trying to figure it out. "What are you--"

"Shi-ny," she suddenly insists. "Like Tup."

He has no idea what she's trying to say. "Sure."

She frowns harder at him, and then leans forward and drops her head against his beskar, seemingly unaware of how uncomfortable it's going to be. "Shiny. Weks 'n' Cody 'n' Echo 'n' vod."

"You don't even know my name," Jango says, panicking a little. "You can't call me vod."

"Shhhh now," she says, patting blindly at his mouth. He tries to crane his head away. He mostly fails. "Sleepy."

"Wh--okay," he decides. Sure. If it keeps her quiet, sure. He goes to sit down, and she immediately turns and tries to grab for her... fellow child? He has no idea what they are to each other.

"No!"

"Okay, okay, we can stay with the other baby!" Jango assures her, trying to bounce her up and down like he's seen new parents do, looking frantically for a chair to pull over. "I'm going to get a chair and we'll come right back, okay?"

She looks up at him, tears gathering. "Pwomise?"

"Uh, yeah, I promise."

He lets her bury her face back against his chest, and quickly grabs the nearest chair and drags it over to the cribs. He ignores the medics for the most part, just focuses on holding the toddler that he has, mostly against his own will, become temporarily responsible for. "Do you have a name?"

She just whines and cuddles closer. He sighs.

"Well, I'm Jango. So, you don't have to call me that other stuff." He moves a hand to pull her away from where she's about to topple off his lap. She grabs for it and pulls it to her face, apparently forgetting that she'd just declared herself sleepy. She examines the glove in fascination. "Please definitely don't call me vod. You have people here, and I just met you. Wait for your, uh, Skyguy? Wait for your Skyguy to wake up."

She bites his fingers. He pulls his hand away, swearing under his breath and panicking just a little. "Don't put that in your mouth, do you have any idea where my gloves have been?"

She bares her teeth at him and growls. Given that her teeth are barely more than nubs, this doesn't do much. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

"Ya!"

"I am not."

She pouts and whines and throws herself back against the beskar, causing a thunking noise as her montral hits the plate. She does not seem perturbed by the collision, just twists somehow closer and sticks her thumb in her mouth.

That is... also probably covered in germs. He looks over at the crib, spots a pacifier, and awkwardly leans to grab it without dropping the toddler in his lap or standing up and making it harder for her to start falling asleep again. There's a little togruta on it, which he figures means it's not going to be a choking hazard for non-human teeth. "Here, chew this instead."

She makes a curious noise and lifts her head. She wrinkles her nose at the pacifier, and then looks up at him. "Jan-Jan, no."

"Wh--you know what, no, you're a kid, I can't get angry at you for getting my name wrong," he sighs. "Take the pacifier, it's cleaner than your hand."

"No!"

"Please?" He tries.

She glares at him a little harder and then huffs. "Kay. Cuz shiny."

He still has no idea what that means, but if it gets her to fall asleep with this thing in her mouth instead of her dubiously-clean hand, he's fine with it.

(When he learns what shiny means, he will be much less fine with it.)

(It'll be far too late by that point, of course.)

#Ahsoka Tano #Jango Fett #Jaster Mereel #time travel #de aging #star wars #anakin and the jedi babies #Phoenix Answers Memes #Phoenix Posts #if you're wondering 'wait doesn't she NOT recognize him later?'#the answer is that she's literally a toddler and not great at memory

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWO || FOR MYSELF

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mentions of violence and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.0k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : ryomen sukuna

↳ next episode : girl of steel

↳ barista’s notes : since you loved the first one so much, i decided to do episode two for you guys ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also i am now addicted to genshin impact and right now, i am on adventure rank 19 and already cleared the ‘stormterror lair’ thing ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) and come again soon!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’

3. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part three because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ

4. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

“What’s the situation?”

All of a sudden, a new voice came into the area leading you to turn your head to the side to find a rather tall male standing next to Fushiguro. From a quick glance, you could immediately inform yourself that had spiky white hair with a black blindfold covering his eyes, as he carried a paper bag on his arm while wearing a similar outfit to Fushiguro meaning he was another sorcerer.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?” Fushiguro asked in surprise, as he turned to look at what you assumed to be his teacher leading to the shadows around him to immediately disappear from sight.

“Gojo…” you muttered under your breath as you looked at the two male sorcerers right in front of you in horror as you came to the realisation of the situation you were facing.

‘Mother…..I’ve been found…..’

ꕥ

“Hey!’ the teacher cheerfully greeted while waving an arm to his student as a short greeting. “I wasn’t planning on coming, but man, you’re roughed up,” Gojo explained, before leaning forward as if he was taking a closer look at Fushiguro to which then caused lead to his hand to go into his pocket as he proceeded to pull out his mobile phone. “I should show the second years, face this way!” the sorcerer playfully stated as he began to take a multitude of photos of the ‘roughed up’ student, leading to the subject of his images to turn away while covering his face with his arm.

Looking at the scene with anxiety looming above you like a rainy cloud, you swiftly turned your head back to see if you could find a way out without both of them as well as Itadori noticing as they were distracted for the time being.

‘Shit, the only way I can escape is either jumping from this floor or going through the large gap behind me, but that’s gonna make them notice. What am I going to do?!’

“Ah! Miss, I know you are already there, so no need to escape!” Gojo suddenly stated, causing you to quickly turn back with widened eyes - surprised at the fact that he knew what was on your mind - to find the teacher waving at you with the same greeting he gave to Fushiguro as if he had known you for some time, like an old friend one would say.

‘Ah…..what a drag….’ you thought, as you then carefully picked up the katana that had landed in front of you when the curse was exorcised before slowly sliding it back into the casing that was behind your back.

“The higher-ups wouldn’t such up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing,” Gojo explained while looking down his phone like he was checking something when in your mind, you assumed that he was going through the photos that he took of Fushiguro due to his jolly smile that was displayed on his face.

‘Maybe, if you damn sorcerers got the cursed object sooner before the damn protective seal was ripped off, WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION!’ you argued in your head, as you slowly began to realise the reasonings why your mother never took a liking to the higher-ups, to begin with.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

“So, did you find it?” the blindfolded teacher asked, as he looked up from his device only for your schoolmate to interrupt the sorcerer’s conversation as he raised up his hand in a guilty manner. “Um...Sorry, but I ate it,” Itadori confessed, as he then pointed to himself to emphasise the statement leading Fushiguro to look down to the floor in what seemed to be in shame while Gojo turned to look at Itadori with a shocked expression.

“For real?” Gojo asked, trying to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of joke.

“For real,” Itadori and Fushiguro answered simultaneously, confirming that it wasn’t a joke at all.

In a complete rage, you slowly made your way towards your schoolmate before grabbing his shoulders with as much might as you could as you then turned him around to face you.

“I don’t know who broke that damn seal I placed on that stupid little hut, but maybe if you haven’t taken that finger, we wouldn’t be in this situation where these two dumbass sorcerers would be in our lives right now!!” you screamed in frustration leading to the two mentioned sorcerers to look at you with dumbfounded looks painted on their faces while Itadori just peered at you with an extremely surprised expression.

During the school hours, Itadori had seen you a few times around the hallways and in his class when you had to collect something for another teacher. From what he could read off, you were the calm and collective type, someone who was on top of their academics while being able to maintain close relationships with other students between the three-years that Sugisawa Municipal Highschool offered. Even though you came off a bit blunt from time to time when calling something or someone a ‘drag’, the students liked that from you since that meant you were being honest to them as well as to yourself, just like the time when you surprised everyone when you rejected being part of the school’s council's committee much to the President’s begging.

“But...shouldn’t you like sorcerers since you seem like one?” Itadori questioned with a confused tone, leading you to look at him with a rather both understandable but irritated expression which caused him to be nervous somewhat due to you being out of character.

“Just because I am one, doesn’t mean I like any of them!” you counted back, as you pointed towards the direction of Fushiguro and Gojo before continuing with “it was such a drag when Fushiguro was here this afternoon and it’s more of one now that two of them are here!” as you then let go of his shoulders before turning away to lean against the crooked metal balcony to relax your vocal cords after screaming so much.

Taking the opportunity, Gojo leaned to the side as if he was inspecting Itadori like he was painting before coming closer to the teenage boy with his hand on his chin as if he was thinking what he could do now. “Hehe, damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious,” Gojo amusingly stated, causing you to turn back to look at the scene with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘What is hilarious about the situation right now? This isn’t something to find assuming Gojo’

“Anything off with your body?” Gojo questioned, after straightening his back leading itadori to inspect his body for a quick few seconds.

“Not particularly,” Itadori answered.

“Can you swap out with Sukuna?” Gojo then asked, leading you to then fully turn back to look at the special-grade sorcerer with extreme confusion and astonishment as you begin to wonder what hit Gojo’s head before coming here to the school.

“Sukuna?” Itadori confusingly stated as he looked at Gojo with a perplexed expression.

“The curse you stupidly ate,” you quickly answered, as you gave Itadori a serious glance before letting out a sigh of frustration leading Fushguro to quickly tug your arm as you dropped down to his height before you snatched your arm back, worried about what the Zenin relative would do to you.

“Oh…Yeah, I think I can do that,” Itadori clarified, as he placed his hand on his hip before giving a nod to emphasise this statement.

Stepping back, Gojo suddenly began to stretch in a weird position, which suddenly reminded you of a certain baseball player, but you couldn’t recall who before stating with confidence, “then give us ten seconds, once ten seconds are up, come back to us.”

‘Great, I’m going to die young…” you jokingly thought, as you looked to the side with a grim look as if you were staring at the death ripper at this very moment in time.

“But..” Itadori wavered, as he started to be concerned about Gojo's request since he didn’t know what damage Sukuna could do or how the teacher was going to be at the end of it. “Don’t worry, I’m the strongest,” Gojo confidently stated, leading to another grim look to appear on your face, as you were getting annoyed at his constant confidence even though you knew he had the right to be.

“Megumi, hold on to this,” Gojo demanded before throwing the bag towards his student, leading to the catcher to catch it with his hands before looking down on the paper bag with curiosity.

“Megumi?” you quietly questioned as you suddenly discovered that the sorcerer next to you had a feminine name - since it was quite rare to hear a male have a name that was generally used for the female gender.

“What is this?” Fushiguro asked before his teacher stretched his arms right in front of both of you before answering, “Kikufuku from Kikusuian! It’s Sendai’s speciality, and it’s super good! I recommend the zunda and cream flavour!”

‘So...this man bought mochi when people here were dying, ah...that was dumbass~’

“It’s not a souvenir, I’m going to eat it on the bullet train home,” Gojo stated as if he needed an explanation for his actions. However, what got your full attention was the black markings that were gradually coming onto Itadori’s skin before he suddenly jumped up into the air while Gojo was still explaining his reasoning for this purchase.

“Uh Oh~” you commented, as you stared at the sky with widened eyes before Fushiguro screamed for his teacher’s attention at the curse directing an attack from behind. However, it seemed like his teacher wasn’t fazed on second as he continued explaining the reason why he bought the mochi, “Kikufuku’s not like other souvenirs…”

‘I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WASN’T A SOUVENIR!’ you screamed in your mind before ducking your head down as Itadori’s body finally crashed back to the ground, trying to make sure that the debris didn’t blind you at all. Quickly looking back up to check what was happening, you suddenly came into eye to eye contact with a bright shade of ruby mixed with a hint of malevolence. You came to the realisation that it was Sukuan who was now in front of you while Gojo was casually sitting on his hack like a horse.

“And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite..” Gojo continued talking, causing you to give off a confused expression on what really was going on inside the special-grade sorcerer’s mind and what his main priority was right now. Suddenly, Sukuna made a 180 degree turn to aim for another attack, yet the second Gojo clasped his hands together, he once again missed and as well as the other attacks he tried to execute.

Unexpectedly, Gojo appeared behind Sukuna’s back before leaning back to say something within his ear, “my student and a little sorcerer’s watching, so I’m going to show off a little.” Instantaneously, Gojo disappeared once again before grabbing the curse vessel’s arm as he then processed to hit Sukuna’s face with his arm, leading to Itadori’s body to slightly fling itself up in the air.

‘What is he manipulating? Time? No, that’s not it….is it like a vacuum? But that means he would be controlling empty space with no particles…’

Suddenly, you slightly noticed the slight manipulated on the air as Gojo’s arm begins to swing leading you to come to the conclusion that Gojo’s cursed technique might be the control of space at an atomic level, leading to a massive pressure to hit the King of Curses as his body smashed into the only part of metal railing that wasn’t bent.

“For crying out loud, you jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna declared as he, once again, jumped into the air while somehow carrying massive pieces of the broken wall along with him before slamming down at Gojo’s direction. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me,” Sukuna arrogantly stated, with a smirk on his face as some of the windows processed to smash.

However, the second the thin debris started to clear up, Sukuna’s expression quickly twisted into shock as a brightly lit barrier enclosed his opponent, yet he wasn’t the one that had a surprised expression on his face. Turning back around, Gojo found you kneeling next to Fushguro with a flat palm on the ground as your curse energy flowed down to the ground as if the box just didn’t just end on the ground that they were standing on right now.

“This is such a drag,” you muttered before standing up straight as you observed the walls making sure that there wasn’t a single crack when the rocks could have hit. “Seven, eight, nine, ten,” you counted and right on time there was a sudden change in curse energy pressure around you leading you to come to the conclusion that Itadori was now switching back, surprising Sukuan once again at the circumstances that he was in.

“Oh, was everything okay?” Itadori innocently asked, one the marking disappearing leading you to undo your curse spell as the walls slowly started to fade away with little blue parts flying away like they were little fireflies.

“I’m shocked, you really can control it!” Gojo cheered while Fushiguro looked onto the scene with such surprise and confusion on what was happening.

“He’s kind of annoying, though,” Itadori commented as he continuously smacked his head, “I can hear his voice.”

‘And is smacking your head gonna make it better, idiot?’

“It’s a miracle that’s all he’s doing,” Gojo stated, with a smirk on his face as he began to walk towards Itadori before suddenly placing his middle and index finger on the salmon-haired forehead, causing Itadori to freeze for a second before giving in to the suddenly unconscious feeling empowering his body to which lead to his falling within the teacher’s arms.

“What did you do?” Fushiguro asked with slight worry in his tone.

“Knocked him out,” Gojo then answered. “If he isn’t possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, he might have potential as a vessel,” the white-haired sorcerer explained as he then turned to his student with a question in mind.

“Now, I have a question for you, what should we do with him and the little miss, who is trying to run away?”

Confused, Fushiguro turned around, only to find you with your back turned to both of them as your foot halted the second his teacher had mentioned you. Turning back around Fushiguro then looked at his teacher with a serious expression displayed on his face, “even if he is a vessel, jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed. However, I don’t want to let him die!”

“Your personal feelings?” Gojo playful asked his student with a smirk on his face before Fushguro quickly answered, “yes, please do something about this.”

“Hehe~ Now it’s a request from a previous student,” Gojo stated, as he proceeded to lift up the unconscious teenager onto this shoulder. “Leave it to me! But also, what do you want to do with Miss runaway?” Gojo commented, once again leading you to halt your movement as you surprisingly made some distance between you and the two sorcerers now staring at your back.

‘Ah…..caught again…..’

Turning around, you looked towards the two sorcerers with a nonchalant expression displayed before giving them the hand gesture of ‘shooing them away. “There’s nothing you got to do with me, take Itadori and make sure to do what you’re planning to do, don’t drag me into your mess,” you commented, as you turned around once again, only to find the infamous sorcerer to be standing right in front of you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Come on~ Jujtutsu Tech is so much fun, you get to make a few friends and you get to bug Megumi!” Gojo cheerfully tried to persuade you, only for you to scoff in annoyance at this futile attempt to invite you to the school that your mother informed you all about.

“I rather not be near anyone belonging with the three clans,” you irritatedly declared as you placed your hand on your hip trying to keep a distance between you and the teacher. However, this statement of yours caused Gojo and Fushiguro to look at you with surprise painted on their faces. How much did you know about the Jujutsu world? How did you have the acknowledgement of the three great families? Who were you and how much you had the strength to stop Sukuna’s attack within a millisecond?

“L/N!” Fushiguro stated, leading you to turn to him with an angered expression on your face which caused Gojo to peer at you with seriousness clouding his entire body.

“L/N huh?” Gojo curiously questioned, “no wonder your curse technique is familiar to what those old documents have told.”

Taken back to his discovery, you turned back to look at Gojo will a deadpan expression leading him to then carefully suggest, “Since you are part of the lost L/N clan, I won’t tell the higher-ups about your existence but rather have you twist your name slightly when you enrol, how does that sound?”

Glancing at the teacher with suspicion, you tried to hide the gut-wrenching feeling that there was not a possible chance of you now escaping from this. You had been caught and found and there was no way to lie yourself out of this situation you were in, not when Gojo had discovered who you really were while Fushiguro seemed to look clueless on what was going on between his teacher and the female sorcerer in front of him.

Letting out a sigh of frustration once again, you looked up at the sky, letting the same moonlight bathe your face as it did for Sukuna a few minutes ago.

“What a drag”

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a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 3 years

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ok i agree w/ everything you said about those ladies besides, lwaxana gives s*xual pr*dator vibes and that is why i dont like her.

I can see that reading for sure and all things are subjective. I do strongly disagree, but hey, fandom is a space for that! Super chill.

to go a little more into this though, since it's not really so much about what any of us feel, but more about how we engage with female characters (and I'll use your example of why you don't like her - not to drag you, your dislike is totally fair, she's fictional, she won't mind, but just because it's a single line that kinda puts her in a box. And not a very nice box to be in, that's for sure...)

a little tw for mild references to some of the shadier writings of star trek vis a vis sexual assault and otherwise sexist and/or strange relationship dynamics

okay so you know how Riker has like. two? episodes that're suuuper shady in terms of his treatment of women and the rest of the time it's pretty chill. and he's one of my favourite characters, but I have gotta skip those episodes, because whatever they were trying to do, they Did Not Succeed - and there's a reading of him that incorporates those elements and if you do you've gotta contend with the character being quite probably someone who's assaulted women.

or how Worf at times espouses sexist shit that makes me roll my eyes outta my head and you're either gonna say "I don't fucking like this character" (and again, totally fair, I've seen people who don't Vibe) or you've gotta find a way to make this work for you if you want to explore that character - or both of those things, you can dislike a character and want to write about them

Or some of the weird shit the writers have Geordi do (which, Geordi is my favourite character in TNG, but sometimes ya gotta breathe and go "the writers are fucking dumb, the writers are fucking dumb")

or - the spiritual successor of Geordi, Julian Bashir (my favourite character from DS9 - clearly I have a Type). You've gotta go: This is stupid writing. I can make it work with my own read of the character, but first and foremost The Writing Is Dumb!

Or hell, Q - since we're talking about Lwaxana and I assume her interactions with Picard and Odo, let's not forget to mention Q, both in TNG and on VOY with Janeway - some of the more urgh-inducing scenes between Q and Janeway are, I think, meant to be charming and funny? And I'm a massive QCard shipper here, okay, I actually vibe so hard with him as an alien who doesn't get shit about boundaries (this mostly with Picard, with Janeway I have gone: "Hm. This doesn't feel good" a fair few times).

or how the writers of DS9 had Garak be in a very uncomfortable relationship with Ziyal, who was a teenager, then not a teenager within much too short a span of episodes (and actress changes)

or Quark. Remember the episode in which Quark tries to get Kira's likeness so he can put it in a sex-fantasy roleplay that she did not consent to? or how there are two cold opens where his female employees are told they have to sleep with him to keep their jobs

or like... Neelix (okay, I am not a fan of Neelix anyway, but for people who are fans, there are times when you've gotta wonder what in the heck the writers are thinking - not the character, the writers)

what I'm trying to say with the post I wrote is that this same graciousness isn't offered to female characters - especially female characters of colour, but in the case of Lwaxana

she's older, she's an ongoing female guest star, she's very (sometimes uncomfortably) sexual towards especially Picard and for a short while Odo, before they become really good friends.

she's also in-text several times in positions in which men are trying to control her (the episode where she gets kidnapped, the episode in which the guy who's married her is a misogynist) and she uses or tries to use her "wiles" to escape these situations.

She's really more of a faded beauty who's putting a pressure onto her daughter (in a rare interesting, complex, fraught mother-daughter dynamic that I loooove) and refuses to let go of the past, because (and here we get into my read, but mildly supported by canon) it's the only way she seems to have learned how to be loved and have relevance. She's terrified of letting that go, because where does she go next, without everything that's defined her? which is why her final episode with Odo is actually so powerful to me.

Picard is never threatened by her in-text. He's not massively fond of her (at first, she grows on him... like a mold), he would prefer to avoid her, but he's not in a powerless situation here. She undoubtedly makes him uncomfortable at times in a way that - like some of the above examples have made me go "mmmmokay" but certainly not the worst example of this in the writing.

With Odo I also don't like how some of her interactions with him go in the first episode they're in together. But once they're friends and you see how easily she accepts him ("I can swim" is always going to be one of my favourite little chuckle lines) that no longer applies. He clearly likes her and enjoys her company. There's something incredibly lifelong platonic partners in their easiness with each other.

You can argue in both cases (and argue well) that there are scenes that are kinda sus. But there are lots of scenes that offer you depth of character. She's not one-note. She's got off moments.

Some of these guys (and others - I haven't watched as much TOS and Voyager so I don't want to misrepresent anyone, but I feel sure that Tom Paris has made me squint once or twice + I've not seen Enterprise yet) have whole episodes that make me shudder.

It's really - within this fandom for sure - open how we interpret characters and I'm not saying anyone needs to read Lwaxana like this or change their minds and like her.

The point of the post is not to say you have to like any of these characters. Or even to say you have to engage with them regardless of how you vibe or don't vibe with them. It's just... I have listened to several up-until-then-enjoyable deeply analytical podcasts where at some point one of the (guys... always guys... I'm guessing white) makes a sneering comment completely dismissing their value within the series.

My point is that Lwaxana (since we're on her) has value as a character within the Trek universe. She added something important. She's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's a big series, we're not all guaranteed to like everyone.

and in the original post I used "shrill" and "cringy" on purpose, because those are descriptors I've heard. And they are absolutely rooted in misogynist dismissals of female characters no matter what shape they take (Keiko, Lwaxana, Michael, and Ezri are radically different from each other and yet all easily brushed aside regardless of screentime, personality, show, age, role/job).

I'm not making points about having to engage with or like characters. I'm just saying we need to be aware of how easily we specifically look down our noses at female characters (and specifically female characters of colour - apologies, this was just because we were talking about Lwaxana, but some of the shit I've heard about especially Michael and Keiko have made me want to bang my head against a wall... or other peoples heads against walls... you know, for a nice change)

so how much sympathy or analysis of behaviour is afforded to female characters vs their male peers. What judgements are we making and how do they compare to our readings of their male counterparts?

sidenote: I hate using male and female about star trek, my brain is just like "why anyone gender? why do this? you're in space? there are aliens? y'all can't chill with the binary for two fucking seconds?"

different post

#lwaxana troi #tng #ds9 #voy #st: tng #st: ds9 #st: voy #star trek disc horse #I don't want to make statements on TOS or Disco guys - I HAVE seen them I just don't rememberrrr too much #i have entirely avoided any and all opinions by white cis dudes on adira and gray btw because I have F E A R #they're not female characters tho but like... tangentially I'm thinking hooboy about them as well #anon just wanna reiterate I'm not telling you to change your opinion or feelings about her

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sirikenobi12 · 3 years

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This Capt' goes down with her Ship

I’m honestly amazed at how many messages I receive both here and on Twitter that ask me why I ship Obi-Wan with Siri Tachi over Satine Kryze. I guess I’m mostly amazed because I can’t believe people actually care enough to take the time to message me about my character preferences, that’s just really fascinating to me.

But, since I’m getting tired of writing this out in individual messages I thought perhaps a blog would be a good idea so that way I can just reference/link them to it later - it’ll be much easier. So, bear with me while I get a little self indulgent (and Satine stans please don’t come at me, I will explain below how I really have nothing against Obitine).

This is going to be really long, and I’m not expecting anyone to actually read this, but here we go!

I’ll begin by answering questions that are sitting in my inbox:

1. Who the hell is Siri Tachi?? For those who don’t know the character of Siri Tachi, she was a female Jedi who was two years younger than Obi-Wan. She was originally from the Legends young reader book series Jedi Apprentice and Jedi Quest (written by Jude Watson). She was in many of the same Padawan classes as Obi-Wan even though she was two years his junior because of her advanced skills. She could hold her own against him in a lightsaber duel even as they grew up. She was chosen as an apprentice to Jedi Council Member Adi Gallia at age 11 which was very impressive given how young she was and the fact that a Council Member chose her.

(I don’t know why she looks like Brittany Spears in this drawing, not my fave)

She did have a hard time fitting in with her peers when she was younger though because she was so focused on her career as a Jedi which didn’t always make her the friendliest person to be around (it was really her masking her insecurities) and it was only after she was paired on several missions with Obi-Wan that they even became friends.

She and Obi-Wan over the years grew very close and eventually discovered their feelings had crossed the line from friends to something more while on a mission when they were older Padawans (Obi was 18). They had been separated from their masters and nearly died while on that mission. So, before they “died” they each confessed their love to the other, but when it turned out they didn’t actually die they decided they’d wait and figure out what their relationship actually meant once the mission was over - putting duty above their feelings. But Qui-Gon and Yoda intervene before the two of them could have the conversation and the Masters reminded Obi-Wan of his dedication to the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan argued that he and Siri would be able to find a way to be together while still being active Jedi, that maybe they could be an exception to the rule or even change the rule entirely. Both he and Siri did end up choosing their commitment to the Jedi over their relationship in the end, because each of them realized they’d regret not being Jedi more than anything, but it did put a strain on their friendship for many years.

At 23 Siri was secretly knighted and her first solo mission was sent undercover to infiltrate and take down a huge pirate slaver operation and she spent 4 years on that mission, all on her own with limited communication with the Council.

In order to do this she had to pretend to have a falling out with her Master and “leave” the Order entirely, everyone thought she had fallen to the dark side. Obi-Wan was devastated, and he spent several months looking for her because he refused to believe she’d actually fall. It was also clear that he was heartbroken that she left, especially knowing what they had given up in order to be Jedi. Upon ending the mission she returned to the Jedi and was then often sent on other undercover missions throughout the rest of her career (including one where she and Obi-Wan had to play a royal married couple which was super cute). Her actually being a Jedi Shadow is not official and is a fanfiction creation - but, it’s one that I 100% headcanon because it just makes sense.

Siri was very different when she returned from her long undercover mission, she had lived as a pirate for 4 years and so she was not as uptight and rule bound as she had been in her youth. She began to wear tight unisuits/flight suits instead of the traditional Jedi tunics and she had grown to be a bit more irreverent - even showing up late to Jedi Council summons. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind the change and the two became a formidable pair as Knights and they were sent together (with their Padawans who hated one another) on several missions.

Obi-Wan and Siri were always written as being equals, never one more powerful than the other. They often shared flirtatious banter (nothing new for Obi-Wan) and they seemed very much in sync on missions that it was clear they shared some kind of bond. They never seemed to let their failed romance stand between them and their duty, and only brought it up once more as adults to admit that they still loved each other, but were content to just be friends because it would be selfish of them to turn their backs on the Jedi simply for their love. Then upon Siri’s untimely death (she of course died in his arms) she told him that she’d always be with him. And he nearly fell to the dark side due to his anger, but stopped himself from killing the man who was responsible for Siri’s death because he knew she’d not want him to fall because of her.

In canon there isn’t much about her (yet), except that Siri is said to be the girl Obi-Wan would hold hands with under the table during mid-day meals which suggests that they had a bit of a secret affair/flirtation for many years.

2. Why don’t you like Satine? This is a bit of a loaded question because even though I tend to write fics centered more on Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy the character of Satine or that I don’t swoon over their relationship from time to time thanks to some very well written fics ( @mahizli I’m looking your way). I just tend to write Siri more than Satine because I can relate to Siri more as a character, but in truth I also feel Siri and Obi-Wan’s relationship is a bit more well rounded than his and Satine’s

*ducks to avoid things being thrown at her*.

Satine and Obi-Wan have a beautiful love story, don’t get me wrong. But for me personally I am a little sick of the Romeo & Juliette/star crossed lovers angle. And that’s totally what they are - She’s a Mandalorian, He’s a Jedi, it’s a forbidden love not just because of his code, but because their “families” were mortal enemies. And I guess I’m just not super inspired by it. Not to mention that they met as children (apparently only 15 years old according to canon), confessed their undying love for one another after a year of knowing one another in a life or death situation and then pined for each other for the next 20 years until they were reunited...I just have a very hard time finding this story relatable (and hate to say it, plausible). Not that they couldn’t have felt love for one another as teenagers (especially in that situation), but that they still felt that same level of love 20 years later without ever seeing one another...at least with Siri they still had to interact with one another on a regular basis so it would be harder to push those feelings aside.

The other reason I have a hard time writing Satine and Obi-Wan is because the romantic love they seem to have in TCW is written to be very one sided in my opinion. While Obi-Wan clearly cares for her, and admits to having feelings for her at one time it’s only ever Satine who actually seems to want something with him in the current sense. Which honestly makes their relationship feels a bit cringy to me, it doesn’t feel like it’s on equal footing - and makes it seem like Satine is a bit obsessive (I don’t blame her, it is Obi-Wan after all). This is a similar argument I have about Padme’s character, I feel like we’re presented with these incredibly strong women characters who for whatever reason still fall apart when it comes to love...I think it’s a reflection of men trying to write women and it ends up being a bit of a fantasy (the sexy/badass woman who secretly needs a man to save her). So, to sum up - I really do love Satine’s character outside of her relationship with Obi-Wan.

Again, this is just MY interpretation of Satine and Obi-Wan’s relationship...I get other people tend to feel very differently and that’s wonderful!!

I will say, the thing I do like about Obi-Wan and Satine’s relationship and very much appreciate is how it is an opposite parallel to Anakin and Padme’s relationship. And it shows what a Jedi should’ve done - how you can’t have both a commitment to the Jedi Order and a marriage, but you can still care deeply about another person. I do very much appreciate that aspect of their relationship and it’s very well done from that perspective.

3. So, why SiriWan after all these years? Well, I’m drawn to Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship for several reasons, but mostly because they are written as equals/partners (as I had mentioned above), both have moments where you can see the love they hold for one another - their feelings are very much shared and not one sided, but above all it’s not the main defining factor of their relationship. They are Jedi and friends before anything else, and I love that! It may not be as flashy or maybe even as passionate as say Satine or Cody but to me it’s more full and well rounded. I can also see their relationship growing and changing over the years, they aren’t stuck in one place or in the past.

I also tend to find the Jedi culture more fascinating than the Mandalorians. I know, I know, I’m a heretic. That’s not to say, again that I don’t think Satine on her own isn’t fascinating, I just am a little tired of Mandalore’s importance in virtually every aspect of Star Wars these days and I feel like there is only so much you can do with Obi-Wan having feelings for a Mandalorian, where as him navigating a relationship with another Jedi is more interesting. The Jedi are allowed to be intimate with people, contrary to popular belief they are allowed to love, they just can’t become possessive/attached - I feel like two Jedi would have an easier time navigating that than someone who wasn’t raised with that same code. I think Siri and Obi-Wan have more opportunities to have a more realistic and adult relationship and I like writing/exploring that.

The other thing I like about Siri and Obi-Wan specifically is the fact that neither ever really considered leaving the Order for the other. They knew how important being a Jedi was to the other, and I think having a love interest that Obi-Wan didn’t consider leaving for is an important distinction.

Instead he thought they would be able to change the rules/code because he assumed it would be obvious that their love was pure and not an attachment. Now, obviously they both realized later that it was just foolish/young love talking (because I’m sure teenagers have to be extra careful of forming attachments), but what I really adore the concept that Obi-Wan “by the code” Kenobi had loved Siri so much that he’d even remotely consider the idea that he’d want the rules to change for her/them (and Siri “by the code” Tachi felt the same about him). There is something incredibly romantic about that - naïve, but romantic.

I also believe that romantic love doesn’t automatically equal “true love”. I personally feel that Obi-Wan and Siri have a love that is on such a deep level that their relationship doesn’t always have to be romantic. They simply just love one another, in whatever form that takes at any given period in time throughout their lives, sometimes it takes the form of just friends, sometimes lovers, sometimes romantic. And I wish we saw more relationships like that in various media. But I get why we don’t, they are harder to write and less overtly sexy/dramatic.

Also, when someone says the phrase:

“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone.” (Siri)

And it’s followed immediately with:

“You do” (Obi-Wan)

My heart just melts, because that to me is love!!

4. So, you actually think Obi-Wan loved both Siri & Satine? Yes, I do...100%. I think they all loved other people at different points in their lives. I personally feel that most of Obi-Wan’s various ships (with exceptions of Master/Padawan ships...sorry, just not my bag) actually happened. I could see a young Obi-Wan having a fling with Quinlan Vos (I doubt they could handle more than that), I could definitely see him have an attraction/affection towards Cody (I don’t think given the power dynamic Obi-Wan would ever allow anything to actually happen between them though), I even believe he and Ventress had a rather confusing and passionate night together (maybe even more than one), I can see him easily having a relationship at one point with Taria Damsin (to which Siri would give him endless crap about because he seems to have a thing for Jedi Shadows). I’m sure he even had a relationship with Annileen on Tatooine to help find some comfort during his exile. To me all of that makes so much more sense than him (and Satine) pining away for one another for 20+ years.

Allowing Obi-Wan to have multiple loves in his life also helps showcase the idea of non-attachment. It’s not that Jedi promote promiscuity - though they won’t judge anyone for it (I see the Jedi very much in the mindset of: it’s your body/your choice) it’s that the idea of attachment means possessing someone, thinking you own someone and also putting that person’s value over others. The idea that Obi-Wan could find love and value in a multitude of lovers to me shows him capable of loving without attachment - He is able to let these people go when the relationship has run its course...it’s very healthy.

Not to mention that realistically people tend to have multiple relationships and loves throughout their lives. To only ever love one person is incredibly unrealistic, unhealthy and frankly screams attachment to me *cough Anakin, cough*.

In conclusion: If you’re still reading this (did you not have anything better to do with your time???) I do hope you have a bit more of an understanding why I personally like to write Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship instead of his and Satine’s. Though if you read my fics (thank you if you do) I hope you realize that I try to not make the stories all about their relationship - yes, it pops up here and there, but I try not to make it the focal point. I believe both Obi-Wan and Siri are so much more than just a romance and that’s what I really love writing.

But I raise a glass and toast all of those who prefer to ship Obitine or CodyWan or Ventrobi (or whatever Obi-Wan and Quilan’s ship name is) - I love reading your take on those relationships and I hope you don’t mind if an old SiriWan shipper joins the fun!

Phew, rant over...man, does anyone else have to defend their OTP preferences to strangers?? It’s just so odd to me!

Thanks for reading, and if you’re a Siri, Obi-Wan or SiriWan fan drop me a line - I can seriously talk about them for hours!

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #sw meta #long rant #long post #sorry yall #my otp for life #siri tachi #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #siriwan #obi wan x siri #why do people care who I ship?#jedi culture #jedi apprentice #jedi quest

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arminhug · 3 years

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hello, pumpkin || annie leonhardt x reader: chapter two

series masterlist

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

BIRTHDAY GIRL

Annie and I never established that we were friends until her eighth birthday.

In the blossoming spring warmth, I nestled myself in the corner of the bench in the playground’s garden. It was an unspoken fact that nobody really played in the garden; it was a quiet haven for a few of us to read or enjoy solitude, yet it had also become a spot where I waited for Annie every day, and almost every day, had she not been sent home or busy with other obligations, Annie joined me, sometimes speaking, sometimes not. I didn’t mind; I just loved to be in her company.

On this particular day, Annie stood before me, and despite her being the same height as me, her air always made her seem much bigger and powerful.

“My dad says this is for you.”

She handed me a white envelope into which I fervently tore, revealing a gaudy invitation card.

“It’s your birthday on Saturday?” I quizzed.

“No, my birthday is today. But my dad said it was too short notice to invite you to my house today, so you can come on Saturday.”

At this news of Annie’s birthday, I immediately leapt to my feet and braced her in a hug. “Happy birthday! What cake are you having? Are you going to hand out sweets to your class?”

Annie did not hug me back but did not resist. “I don’t like cake, and I don’t like anyone in my class.”

I gasped. “How can you not like cake? Also, who’s going to be at your party if you don’t like anyone in your class?”

“Cake is too heavy and sweet.” She responded monotonously. “Also, you’re the only one coming; it’s not a party, my dad just knows I have a friend now and wanted you to come. You don’t have to.”

Unlike Annie, I didn’t actively avoid the other children in my school. I was still invited to many class birthday parties, I spoke amiably to my peers and I could name a few schoolchildren whom I could consider a friend— yet Annie, the stoic, ash-blonde girl confessing she saw me as a friend elicit such joy within me, I can still remember the feeling to this day if I think about her enough.

“So if I’m your friend, I have to get you a present, right?” I had reminded her of the title that she gave me moments ago.

“No. I don’t want a present.”

“Yes you do, everyone wants presents!” I retorted. “What do you like best in the world?”

“Cats.”

I sat down, sulking. “I can’t get you a cat, Annie. What else do you like?”

Silence.

“Mummy and I can make you something.” I continued, desperate to find something that I could give to my friend. “She’s really good at baking. Do you like cookies?”

“No.”

“Cupcakes?” I refused to give up.

“No! Cupcakes are tiny cakes, you know I hate cakes.”

“Brownies?”

“No.”

“Doughnuts?”

This time, Annie turned away, not meeting the question with a monosyllabic “no”.

“Doughnuts! Annie, I’ll make you lots of doughnuts, okay?”

Annie still refused to look me in the eye. It never bothered me, but I had gathered that she was more inclined to refuse eye contact when she was upset or shy. Before I had the chance to attempt to pry into which flavour of doughnut she would have liked, the bell signalling the end of recess rang. I leapt to my feet and pressed a chaste kiss to Annie's cheek.

“See you later, you doughnut!”

She shoved me towards my line with no malice in the action. “Whatever you say, pumpkin girl.”

“Earth to (y/n)? You’ve been glazed over for the past five minutes. What’s so exciting about the window?”

I blink, snapping out of the saccharine memory of Annie’s birthday. Four pairs of eyes are fixed on me, and I animate myself, taking the doughnut from my plate and shrugging. “I was just thinking,” I respond.

“You sure? Not looking at any hot dudes?” the only other female at the table, Sasha, suggests. Her hazel eyes flicker suggestively over to the group of men kicking a ball about in the park over the road from our favourite local café, which has baked goods to die for (or so Sasha and Connie, the food fanatics of my friendship group claim. I won’t argue—the doughnuts are heavenly.)

“Yeah, c’mon, (y/n)! There are three dashing fellows right here, why do you need to stare at those losers?” Connie chimes in, gesturing to himself and my other two male friends, Jean and Marco.

“Yeah, you wish. My type isn’t idiots,” I playfully smack Connie’s head, the growing stubble brushing my fingertips as I find any way to bring the subjects away from men that I would apparently find attractive.

“On all seriousness, what is your type? We’ve never seen you have anyone about.” Jean interrogates. Great.

It took me a while to figure out that I’m likely not into men. I never quite knew why I got so uncomfortable when middle school brought an array of boy bands that prepubescent teenage girls loved to swoon over, and why I could never answer when somebody asked me who was the hottest, but at the age of sixteen, when I realised my heart was racing upon seeing two women kiss in a film my friends and I had watched, it hit me like a freight train that I was definitely attracted to women.

I chose not to indulge anyone in this knowledge; realistically, I know I don’t have too much to worry about. Sure, my parents aren’t screaming about supporting gay rights from the rooftops, but I know that they have no prejudice towards the community, and my four closest friends would accept me no matter what — hell, Marco told us he was gay when we were fifteen and sixteen years old over a game of Mario Kart and we embraced his queerness with open arms.

So what’s the big deal? I think to myself.

“Does it matter? I’m too busy to date. These university decisions are killing me!”

“Simple,” Jean interrupts, pointing the straw of his ridiculously large iced coffee in my direction. “You come to Marley with Marco and me. Good university, far enough away from your parents, and you get your favourite friends with you for the ride!”

Jean and Marco are one class above Sasha, Connie and I, and decided that Marley University, a small, public school that gained a decent reputation despite it being so new, was the place for them. It was hard to say goodbye once they left school, but the holiday breaks came frequently, and soon enough, they were back for Easter, helping their three younger friends decide on which school to go to.

“Tempting, but probably not. I can’t get over the English department in Sina,” I responded dreamily.

“Yeah, and the crazy entry requirements. You’d have to be a robot to get those grades! Just come to Marley with us, I’m sure the English stuff is fine there, too!” Sasha whined, poking at my hand. I take another bite of my nostalgic treat, shaking my head.

“Guys, I love you all, but I can’t make such an important decision based on my friends. You understand, right?”

“It’s fine, (y/n),” Marco interrupts, his familiar comforting smile gracing his freckled face. “We’ll come to visit you up there, right?”

“Nope. Four of us, one of you. She is coming to Marley.” Jean retorts.

“Jesus, fair enough. I’ll book the plane tickets now!” I tell him sardonically. He elbows me jovially in response and stands, coffee in hand. “Right, we can finish our drinks and snacks on the way outside. It's too nice to be spending it indoors.”

Ignoring the protests from Sasha and Connie, who forlornly protest that they haven't had the chance to order a baked good after their main courses, the majority of the group tail towards the double doors, leaving the duo no choice but to begrudgingly follow suit. The late March sunshine is glorious, beaming down on my face, much like the day twelve years ago I was daydreaming about. It suddenly hit me that today, March 22nd, Annie would be turning twenty years old. This newfound knowledge makes my stomach drop and I cannot control the grief coursing through my being.

It's ever so odd how I can remember every detail about my childhood friend; every memory we shared together, her favourite colour, (black, which I insisted was rather morbid for an eight-year-old, so I coaxed her into putting blue as a second favourite) how on Sunday mornings her father would always pick her up from my house after a sleepover at 10 am sharp to take her to karate, even though she had told me in confidence that she much preferred kickboxing. I couldn't tell you many facts about any other childhood friend who I lost to time; it's only Annie. Every detail of the girl who made my infancy etched into my heart, refusing to leave.

As I force myself back into the present moment, I am aware that maybe Annie was more than just my best friend.

But I was so young. How could I have truly differentiated between innocuous childhood affection and romantic yearning?

“Marco?” I punctuate the spring silence before I can even stop myself. “How did you realise your first crush?”

Marco raises his eyebrows. “Jeez, it was so long ago. I was eleven and I was having a sleepover with my friend. We were on his bed playing Minecraft on his laptop, but I wasn’t even paying attention; I was just admiring his face, how he was so engrossed in the game. My heart was racing because I realised I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t even think it was biologically possible to like the same sex, so I brushed it off. Now I look back…” he laughs awkwardly, before looking me in the eye, his tone suddenly earnest. “Why, what’s up? Anything you want to talk to me about?”

I stop in the street, completely oblivious to the speed of modern day life around me. Suddenly all I care about is how my stomach leapt when I saw her pallid figure walk through the double doors, into the garden, how I found any excuse to hold her hand, how obsessed I was with the topography of her curved nose, icy eyes, lips stark against her pale skin.

“How do you know for sure you’re gay if you’ve only ever had a crush on one person in your life? Somebody who you haven’t spoken to in eight years?”

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

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A SOLDIER’s Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 8

Ah, I love it!

ALSO CONTAINS MAJOR SERIES SPOILERS...Then again, if you don’t know already, what the heck?

Part 8: Frailty

Cloud’s been acting a little odd since our duel at the Gold Saucer. Granted, we’ve been through quite a bit of hell since then so I suppose I should clarify that Cloud has been acting odd around me. I don’t like it. I catch him often staring at me while in the midst of conversations with others. He’s increased his attempts to interact with me or at least put up with my antics. Of course, even in my ridiculousness, I ensure that there are clear boundaries drawn in the sand—there will be no personal bonding time; we’re “work buddies” now, not the love struck teens we used to be. And I will not let my brain convince me he’s the same when he’s not; I don’t need that.

I strut out of town towards the airship, kind of excited to show off my prize to the group. I hop up the steps and walk through the airship, singing, “Lookey lookey what the SOLDIER Queen brought back! Oi, Cid! Bring us some glasses!”

I set the crate on a desk as people gather around.

“What’re you yellin’ about?” grumbles Cid.

Reaching into the box, I hold up a bottle. “Your queen doth provide.”

Tifa peers into the box, a grin on her face like I knew there would be. “Is this what you’ve been getting into all morning?” she scolds playfully.

I shrug. “More or less. There was a monster problem and now there isn’t. They couldn’t afford to pay me though and insisted I take this.” Opening the drink in my hand, I take a swig. “I normally would’ve said no, but I’ve heard talk that you’re one hell of a bartender.”

I spot Cloud coming into the room but before I can focus on him, Barret reaches into the box. “Damn, I knew I liked you SOLDIER.”

“You threatened to off me on multiple occasions,” I quip.

He points at me. “That’s ‘cause you a threat.”

“Damn right. Now let’s drink!” I push the youngest of us away. “Not you, Yuffie. You’re a minor.”

“Aww!”

Tifa starts pouring out glasses and everyone gets to drinking, except Yuffie and Cait Sith; even Red has a one. This is the lightest any of us have been in a long time, just as I hoped.

It’s dark out. Most of the alcohol is gone and several members of our squad are out cold or have retired to bed. It’s only us girls and Cloud but he’s sitting quietly in the corner while we chat away.

“Hey, what’s this?” Yuffie asks, digging through the box and retrieving a piece of paper. She turns it over, revealing several numbers and a name scrawled across it. “Ooo. It’s a phone number. You’re naughty,” she teases.

“Is that how you really got us these drinks?” Tifa joins in.

This is an awkward subject and I kind of want to go back to talking about Barret and Marlene. Still, I go along with it. “No way. Though he was hinting really hard that he’s free tomorrow night,” I laugh, taking another swig of my drink.

“Maybe we can talk the others into staying another day. I think you should really consider going to see him.” I know Tifa’s just trying to look out for me, but I’m absolutely not interested in romance right now.

This is where I make my mistake. My automatic response comes out of my mouth before I can think about it. “Nah. I already got a boyfriend.”

Cloud’s spit take from the corner mirrors exactly how my brain is now panicking.

Why did I say that?! I’m such an idiot!

After the Nibelheim Incident, the reply had truly been an automatic response, but as time went on, I came up with this unrealistic hope that if I continued to say it, it would be true. That sure backfired on me. Anyway, I lost all desire to invest in any new personal relationships so I never curbed the habit; men that dared approach me were quickly put down with that statement. If they weren’t, they needed extra special explanations and I don’t want to go into that. I’d done so well in keeping these people, no matter how much I like them, at a distance, but now I’ve finally slipped up and it might be the worst mistake I could’ve made in front of them.

“Cloud, are you okay?!” Tifa shouts. The choking man holds up a thumb. I curse his resilience just a little when the two females turn back on me.

Yuffie puts her hands on my knee, bouncing in her seat. “You have a boyfriend?! What’s his name?! What’s he like?!” She’s a gossip depraved teenager.

I can’t contain the heat of embarrassment and fear rising in my face. “Sorry, no! I-I misspoke.”

She puffs out her cheeks. “What do you mean you misspoke?”

I stare eat the amber liquid in my glass, thumbs running along the rim while my brain attempts to regain composure. I guess I couldn’t hide everything from them forever. Full of nerves, I answer truthfully, well almost. “Well I…had a boyfriend. But he’s gone now.”

“Wait! When did you date? Where is he now? What happened?”

Dammit Yuffie! I just need her to shut up before I strangle her. “He died.”

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room goes south and the girl is no longer all that eager, just as I hoped. “Oh. I’m sorry…”

After attempting to lighten everyone’s mood, I have successfully ruined it for those of us in this room.

“What happened?” asks Tifa softly. I wish she hadn’t.

I heave a sigh. “It was years ago, before I met you guys and I was still in SOLDIER. He was an infantryman working for Shinra too so we ended up working together a lot. Then one day…we went on a mission that didn’t go so well.” My fingers slip around the pendant hiding my dearest memories, the thoughts burning against my fingers. “I know I should’ve let go by now, but I just can’t bring myself to find someone else.”

Tifa rests a hand against my back. “Hey, different people grieve in different ways. He must’ve meant a lot to you, so it’s okay that you still miss him.”

Yuffie’s got far less tact. “So what was he like?”

I didn’t want to share any of my life with these people; I haven’t shared it with anyone in five years. But somehow, in this moment, I can’t help talking about him. A smile sneaks onto my lips. “Heh, he definitely kept me grounded. He could bring me down from any fury within minutes. Got me out of plenty of sticky situations and we argued all the time, but it was never serious. Just for fun, ya know.” Gods, my heart aches, but these were the happiest moments of my life. “But he was always so sweet and would do anything for me. His hair was so soft and I could’ve spent hours looking into his eyes. The way he smelled was always so comforting. I just…” Against my will, my eyes flicker to the blonde. “I miss him.”

There’s silence and I can feel the seams I’d welded together so tightly beginning to crack. I went further down the rabbit hole than I meant to. Before I break, I need to get out of here. I give my head a shake and set my unfinished glass aside.

Putting on my usual guise, I stand and say, “Okay, I think that’s enough for me.” I hate that look they’re giving me. Still, I smile. “You guys have fun, but don’t stay up too late. I’m gonna go crash.” Nobody says a word; all just staring at me with a mix of awe and sympathy. “What?”

Tifa answers with concern. “You’re crying.”

I blink in surprise, realizing that my vision isn’t as clear as I would’ve declared. Now I’m definitely in trouble. I clear my eyes, bringing back my mask. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The bartender stands. “Maybe you should hang out with us a little longer. We can keep you company.”

“No. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” I’m not, but I’m not going to show her that. My muscles strain to maintain my composure and steady breathing and these damn tears keep trying to escape. I need to go. “I’m just gonna get to bed. I worked hard for that alcohol, you know.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” With a brief way, I head for the rooms. “See you guys in the morning.”

Just outside of the room, I pause, stuffing the screams back down. I can hear them.

Yuffie mutters, “I’ve never seen her cry.”

Tifa agrees, “No, even when Aerith died. She was sad, but she didn’t cry…”

More tears fall. Dammit!

I head quickly for my room, desperate to lock the door and hide away, hide my shame and misery. Just as I reach for the handle to my door, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me back around. There’s no time; the tears just keep falling and I don’t have time to hide them from the very cause of it all.

“Cloud?” He can probably hear the grief in my voice, but I try to stay calm. Pulling from his grasp, I wipe at my face. “What’s wrong?”

The man just stands there, staring down at me with a look of pure pity that I loathe. I don’t want to see it, let alone from him.

My words come a bit more sharply this time. “What? What is it?” When I still don’t get a response, I turn back to my room, but again he stops me. This agitates my anger and weakens my control on my tears. “I don’t need your fucking pity! So if you don’t have something to say, you can fuck off!”

Those words get promptly thrown right back in my face. Cloud reaches out, his cool, calloused hand brushing some of the water from my face.

“I’m sorry.”

For a moment, it’s him and it shatters everything. My willpower breaks and I bury my face in his chest, hands desperately grasping at his shirt. All control goes out the window as I sob. At least I might retain some dignity; Cloud moves us from the hallway and into my room. I’m sure he’s uncomfortable, but he still sits on the bed with me, letting me fall to pieces. His presence, his embrace, his heartbeat, all of it makes this whole thing so much worse, but I’m far weaker than the persona I’d built to hide it all. I can’t bring myself to let him go or push him away. I’ve held onto this despair for so long it’s overwhelming; so I’ll take advantage of his presence at least for now.

#cloud strife #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #ffvii cloud #ff7 cloud #fem!reader

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popolitiko · 3 years

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Enemies, a Love Story: Inside the 36-year Biden and McConnell Relationship

The two 78-year-old deal-makers have been parties to the collapse of Capitol culture. Now they’ll need to make Washington work again.

By ALEX THOMPSON 01/22/2021

The last time Joe Biden and Mitch McConnell faced off, Biden blinked first.

It was the winter of 2012. Then, as now, Democrats had just won a presidential election, had a narrow Senate majority, and Biden was earnestly proclaiming that the election would break the Republican “fever” of opposing the Democratic agenda.

The first test came immediately.

A cascade of deadlines on December 31, 2012, set up a world economy-level battle known as the “fiscal cliff.” Without any action by Congress, the next year would bring about $700 billion in combined tax hikes and budget cuts—extreme austerity measures that could cripple the recovering economy.

The Democratic Senate majority leader, Harry Reid, was willing to go over the cliff if McConnell didn’t agree to tax increases for the highest earners, one of Democrats’ signature campaign promises. Reid reasoned that if taxes were to rise automatically, McConnell would have to negotiate from a weakened position. Obama and Biden, however, feared an adverse reaction from the markets and a potential recession.

In a move that angered Reid, Biden took over the negotiations with Obama’s blessing. The outcome—a continuation of the Bush-era tax cuts with a relatively modest hike of 1.8 percent, weighted toward higher earners—was the kind of deal both negotiators could celebrate.

McConnell did, crowing to his fellow Republicans that “in a government controlled two-thirds by the Democrats, we got permanency for 99 percent of the Bush tax cuts.”

Biden did, boasting in a June 2019 debate that “I got Mitch McConnell to raise taxes $600 billion by raising the top rate.”

But many Democrats weren’t celebrating at all and still haven’t gotten over it. At the same 2019 debate, Sen. Michael Bennet of Colorado called it “a complete victory for the Tea Party. It extended the Bush tax cuts permanently. The Democratic Party had been running against that for 10 years.”

Now, eight years later, Biden and McConnell are entering a new phase of their 36-year relationship, and the Democratic left fears a repeat of the 2012 dynamic. Once again, their party wields most of the levers of government. They control the White House and Senate, albeit by the slimmest possible margin. Unlike 2012, they have a slim majority in the House, as well. Nonetheless, they seem destined to be bargaining for half a loaf, at best, for anything that requires 60 votes in the Senate, the level necessary to defeat a filibuster.

That’s because between them and their agenda stands McConnell, an acknowledged master of Senate procedures, famed for his ability to block presidential agendas.

Even as McConnell has seen some of his power ebb away—losing his Senate majority on the clay fields of Georgia, breaking with Donald Trump in the final days of his presidency—he still finds himself an essential figure in Biden’s Washington.

He is the key to the new president’s ability to turn the page from the Trump years. After years of legislative stasis, Biden is betting big that the Senate can return to the deal-making body he and McConnell came of age in. He hopes that he and his 2012 negotiating partner can plumb their shared history to locate a workable middle in a hyperpolarized time.

That’s a special challenge for McConnell, who is already at odds with the Trumpian wing of the Republican Party after defying Trump on Biden’s victory and even privately being open to impeaching him. Fox News’ Sean Hannity on Tuesday called for a new leader in the Senate and said McConnell had revealed himself to be the “king of the establishment Republicans.”

Even if McConnell wanted to cut deals with Biden, any compromise could further undermine his and his members’ position with the Republican base ahead of the 2022 midterms and the next presidential election. Several Republican senators eyeing their own runs in 2024 are already signaling unapologetic opposition to the entire Biden agenda.

Meanwhile, Biden’s allies are loudly insisting that finding common ground is possible and exactly what the American people want after the past decade of partisan warfare. The Biden team is aware that many in their own party are rolling their eyes but argue that it’s just the latest instance of the Democratic establishment underestimating Joe Biden.

“People said it was naive, you know, 18, 19 months ago as he was running, he was criticized for it. But you know what? It's one of the reasons he won,” said a senior Biden White House adviser. Other Biden allies argue that voters will punish Republicans in 2022 if they look like they are being obstructionist in the middle of a crisis.

“A majority of senators have never served in a functional Senate,” said Delaware Sen. Chris Coons, a close Biden ally and friend. “This is the best chance the Senate will have in our lifetimes to get more functional, because we have an incoming president who knows and respects the Senate.”

But what constitutes functionality may be considerably less than Biden’s ambitious campaign promises.

“There are many examples of things that are just really beyond partisanship,” the senior adviser said. Asked for examples, the adviser pointed to second-tier issues like infrastructure spending and broadband internet access.

Jason Furman, who chaired President Barack Obama’s Council of Economic Advisers and is an occasional outside adviser to the Biden team, lowered expectations. “I’m not sure they can accomplish big things together, [but] I do think they can work together to keep the wheels on the bus,” he said.

McConnell, Furman believes, could be a willing partner in the basics—getting budgets passed in a timely manner, not playing chicken with the debt ceiling, and other incremental, good government measures.

Most skeptical of all is Obama himself, no fan of McConnell and someone who has chafed at the idea that his vice president might be able to achieve things that he himself could not.

“I’m enjoying reading now about how Joe Biden and Mitch have been friends for a long time,” the former president quipped to the Atlantic shortly after the 2020 election. “They’ve known each other for a long time.”

Washington friends aren’t normal friends. While some outliers like Ted Kennedy or John McCain genuinely relished their personal relationships across the aisle, the more enduring bond between long-serving senators is having belonged to such an exclusive club, and respect for its unwritten rules. Among these institutionalists, outsiders just don’t get it, whether they’re an earnest reformer like Obama or an imperious novice like Trump.

Biden, who joined the Senate in 1973, won his third term in the same year a former Senate staffer named Mitch McConnell won his first.

Like Biden, who began his Senate career by surprising the pundits with a razor-thin, upset win over two-term Republican Sen. J. Caleb Boggs, McConnell surprised much of the political world by edging out two-term Democrat Walter “Dee” Huddleston in the 1984 Senate race in Kentucky.

Despite being born nine months apart and sharing an interest in Senate history, the two men weren’t initially close during the 24 years they overlapped in the chamber, according to aides to both men.

“They are both good politicians, but they couldn't be more different as politicians and that was from the get go,” said Janet Mullins Grissom, who managed McConnell’s 1984 race against Huddleston and was one of the Senate’s first female chiefs of staff when McConnell appointed her in 1985.

Biden was loquacious, while McConnell was a man of few words. Biden had the grip and grin of a salesman, while McConnell displayed a tactician’s discipline climbing up the leadership ladder. Biden was a people pleaser, while McConnell at times reveled in criticism, even decorating an entire wall of his office with negative newspaper cartoons about himself.

In high school and college, Biden had been a popular kid, a jock and senior class president. McConnell was more of a nerd—he wore an “I Like Ike” button in his 5th-grade school picture—but with an enormous drive to figure out how to win over his peers in elections.

When facing off against a popular kid to be his school’s senior-class president, McConnell outmaneuvered him by courting the endorsement of other popular students. “I was prepared to ask for their vote using the only tool in my arsenal, the one thing teenagers most desire. Flattery,” he wrote in his memoir.

But there are some similarities, too.

Both have clan loyalties. Biden’s are mainly to members of his family, such as his sister Val, who managed all seven of his political campaigns before 2020. In later years, his sons joined his inner circle, as well, along with longtime aides like Ted Kaufman and Mike Donilon.

McConnell regards his political team as family. “He has a posse,” said Mullins Grissom. “It’s like the opposite of Donald Trump, but I think that that speaks to the person, and that he is an incredibly, incredibly loyal person.” Aides say that, for decades after they have left his office, they still refer to him as “boss.” And while McConnell’s daughters seem to be liberals like their mother and shun his politics, his second wife, two-time GOP Cabinet member Elaine Chao, is a Washington power broker and a political partner as well as a romantic one.

“When I picked Elaine up at her apartment at the Watergate, I was taken by her beauty, and proud to have her on my arm that evening,” McConnell wrote of their first date, a party for then-Vice President George H.W. Bush hosted by Saudi Arabia’s ambassador, Prince Bandar bin Sultan.

Former aides note that Biden and McConnell are also similar in that they are ideologically flexible: Each started off as a moderate and then moved left and right with their parties.

KEEP READING.....

https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2021/01/22/joe-biden-mitch-mcconnell-relationship-460385?utm_source=pocket-newtab

#Enemies #Love Story #Biden and McConnell Relationship #Capitol culture

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uncloseted · 4 years

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I’m responding to your posting nudes/underwear pics response, ‘cause I think it’s a cool discussion to have. In my opinion, I agree that a lot of the sexy pics women post due tend to pander to the male gaze like you said. However, I think oftentimes it just sorta happens to appeal to what straight guys like instead of every woman out there thinking stuff like “I want guys to think I’m sexy, yet easily attainable and submissive!” or something like that (1/7)

and posting something sexy while actively trying to seek out men’s approval. I’m not saying the latter never happens, just that it’s not always the case. In my experience, I’ve seen women who are even in loving relationships post sexy photos, but it never seems to come off (at least to me) as “Look at my body! I’m so hot!” as much as (2/7)

it comes off as just feeling confident and wanting to share it, and if you get compliments from guys on the way, that’s just a bonus. Female sexuality is really cool to me, and the cool thing about feminism is that it’s giving women the choice to be anything they wanna be. I don’t think women have some weird instinctual primal nature to be seen as sexy and receive validation for that, (3/7)

but I also think the desire to feel liked and validated is just human nature and it manifests in different ways. Sometimes it manifests in academics, sometimes in sports, and sometimes as a promiscuous e-girl on Instagram (as in being seen as smart, or strong, or attractive, etc). So when women express their sexuality on the internet, there’s always gonna be a response from straight (4/7)

guys who find her attractive, whether she’s posing in some weird sex position or just posing confidently in front of the ocean in a bikini, and they’re gonna say stuff ranging from “Wow you look hot” to “I wanna have you in 60 different positions”, and the woman posting it is either going to feel validated or not really care because she’s posting them (5/7)

because she thinks she looks good, and that’s enough. Maybe there is some psychological evidence out there to prove me wrong and say that people never post pictures like that just for themselves, and they will always have a subconscious need for men to like them. But for now, I’m gonna believe that it can be for validation or for oneself. (6/7)

I also agree with you on people trying to act like posting racy pictures is a feminist movement; I think it’s awesome that women can express themselves however they want, but there’s still way larger issues out there that deserve way more attention. Sorry for the essay! (7/7) (Hope these last two come through!)

Thanks for sending these in and for putting up with Tumblr’s technical difficulties! I’m happy someone wants to continue this discussion with me. I think you’re correct in saying that a lot of people aren’t posting naked pictures of themselves specifically with the male gaze in mind or with the conscious goal of seeking out male attention. But I think we need to dig into where those “felt cute/confident, might delete later” naked picture type posts are coming from, what people are hoping to get out of posting them, and whether that can truly be an empowering act. I also want to note here that I’m not talking about all pictures where women are naked. I’m talking about a specific type of image where women are naked and intentionally posing “sexily”.

I also think you’re right in saying that a desire for validation is normal for all humans. I would even go so far as to say that we very rarely do things that aren’t for validation, whether directly (posting a picture of yourself on social media or talking about how great you are so that people will agree with you) or indirectly (getting good grades so that you’ll be valedictorian and the school will recognize you, continuing with a hobby you don’t really like because it’s important to your parents and you want them to be proud of you). But I think it’s also important to consider whose validation we seek out most (or are getting most) and what kinds of actions we take to get that validation from others. Validation is not created equal; striving for excellence is a very different type of validation-seeking behavior than, for example, joining a gang or sleeping with someone who you know doesn’t respect you. I think it’s important that people get the right kind of validation from the right people.

In general, girls are socialized from a young age to seek social validation in a way that young boys are not. We’re taught to seek validation from our friends, our teachers, our parents. Many of us are told that it’s important to be nice, to be polite, to be liked above all else. We’re also told, either directly or through our consumption of media, that the way to get people to like you is by being pretty. Disney princesses are pretty; the villains are ugly. Nobody likes Ursula, but they sure like Ariel. As we get a bit older, that messaging morphs into something new- we’re told that it’s important to be “hot”. Hot is an extension of pretty, and so it’s easy messaging to absorb. The protagonists of our favorite movies and TV shows are hot (and often, in their 20s); they’re our model for who we should aspire to be like. And that’s complicated, because women are not the arbiters of hotness. In order to be validated as “hot”, we (largely) rely on our male peers’ approval. In some ways, I think this is also natural. It makes sense that you would want to be attractive for the people that you’re attracted to. That’s evolutionary psychology at work. But the flip side is that more and more of our self-worth and self-esteem is mitigated by how men view us, and our ideas of what we “should” be are mitigated by that messaging and desire as well.

There’s this bit in Peggy Orenstein’s book “Girls & Sex” where she talks about a teenager she interviewed. They were talking about what this girl feels like she gets out of dressing provocatively. This is Peggy’s take on it: “[when I asked her why] she would say, I’m proud of my body. And then a few minutes later she would say but if she gained a few pounds she would no longer want to dress like that because she’d be afraid that if she went to a party that some boys would called her what she said was, you know, the fat girl. And I started thinking, well, proud of your body but who gets to be proud of which body under what circumstances? And how liberating is it if humiliation lurks right around the corner? And that idea of hot, that idea that we [are] our bodies and that how our bodies look to other people is more important than how they feel to ourselves is something that an earlier generation might have protested against. But today’s generation is sold that as a form of personal empowerment and confidence”

And so when we post sexy naked pictures of ourselves in a “felt hot, might delete later” type of way, all of that cultural baggage that we’re so used to carrying around that we don’t even notice it’s there is manifesting in our choices. Okay, you feel confident in your body, but why? What influences shaped your idea of what kind of body is worthy of being confident in? What influences determined what you think of as, “hot”? Would you still be proud of your body if it changed? And if it changed and you no longer felt proud of it, why? Where did you pick up the idea that those changes are bad and shameful? Who’s approval are you seeking when posting those images, and whose approval are you afraid you’re going to lose?

We can tell ourselves that we post on social media “for ourselves”, but it’s not true. When we do things for ourselves, we keep it to ourselves. When we post on social media, we’re seeking validation. I would contend that more than any other technology, social media exists to allow people to seek validation, whether that’s from their friends, their peers, or strangers. Social interaction is, at its core, about validation. We want the people around us to like us, to care about us, to validate our ideas about ourselves, to think of us in a certain way. Social media only exacerbates that. I don’t think anyone on social media is intentionally shouting into the void. I think everyone is hoping their posts will be seen, be appreciated, that someone will interact with them. Instagram is no different.

So then we have to consider whose validation these posts are really seeking out, whether it’s conscious or subconscious on the poster’s part. In my original response, I posited that if someone is trying to gain validation from their female peers, they wouldn’t pose naked in a sexy way, and I believe that. I think most people seeking validation from other women post aspirational photos- OOTDs or pictures of their latest trip or their perfect matcha latte from the cafe down the street. Sometimes those pictures are body pictures, but I would argue that it’s very rare those pictures are overtly sexy, naked pictures. I think they tend to be more like, “having fun in a bikini with my friends” or “lounging in my house in my underwear”.

So then, who are the sexy naked photos really for? Whose validation do we want when we post them? I think if you asked people, they would say that they want a confidence boost or that it’s “just for fun” or it’s because they “felt hot”. I don’t think many people would say, “I’m posting this picture because I know it will get a lot of attention, and I don’t care who that attention is from.” But I think that’s the truth. We know sexy naked pictures will get a lot of attention, and, if pressed, I think people would admit that they know a lot of that attention will be from creepy guys. But validation is validation, and you won’t get nearly as much validation for your picture of your matcha latte as you will for your naked boobs. I don’t think people are necessarily seeking out male validation in particular. But I do think they’re seeking validation, and pandering to the male gaze is the quickest way to do that. Again, I don’t think that’s necessarily a conscious process. I think for a lot of people it’s more like, “I look hot, I should take a picture of myself and post it because it will get a ton of likes.” But that skips the question of, “who determines whether or not you’re hot”, “who’s consuming these pictures”, and “whose validation are you actually seeking out when you’re fishing for likes this way?” And I think that’s a self-perpetuating cycle, as well. If you post a picture where you’re less sexy/more clothed and it doesn’t do as well as your sexy, naked pictures, that’s indirect feedback that people like you better, that you’re easier to validate, when you’re being sexy. And so you post another naked picture, because it will get the most likes and you want the validation of likes. And so on.

Our actions don’t exist in a vacuum. Someone thinking that they look good one day is predicated on a whole host of arguably problematic beliefs, and so is the desire to post that picture to get validation from others. Like I said before, the ability to choose whether to post the picture or not is feminist; the choice to post itself, maybe not. I personally don’t think these types of pictures can be empowering, even if they feel good in the moment or come from a place of confidence, because they’re seeking external validation from the largest common denominator, in this case, men. The idea that when we’re confident about ourselves, we just “sort of happen to appeal to what straight white guys like” is inherently problematic because it speaks to just how formed by their opinions our own views of ourselves are. I think it’s telling that you don’t see, like, “feel sexy and powerful in my business suit I’m wearing for the big meeting I have today, might delete later”.

I hope I answered your question and wasn’t too long-winded or off topic in my response. It’s such a hard issue to parse out and something that people spend their entire lives thinking about, so I only hope that I can do their work a little bit of justice here.

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scripttorture · 5 years

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Torture in Fiction: Carrie (1976)

I thought this one was an interesting request, I read Stephen King’s book Carrie as a young teenager but I’d never actually watched the movie. My first impression was that it was strangely sexual in a way that the book wasn’t.

But I’m not here to talk about the strange relationship the horror genre has with female sexuality. I’m rating the depiction and use of torture, not the movie itself. I’m trying to take into account realism (regardless of fantasy or sci fi elements), presence of any apologist arguments, stereotypes and the narrative treatment of victims and torturers.

Carrie is about a teenage girl who is severely bullied at school. She’s ostracised and tormented by her peers, ignored by staff and raised by an abusive extremist. In the midst of this she develops telekinetic powers.

The movie starts with a volley ball game that’s used to establish Carrie’s isolation and the casual way other students verbally abuse her. Later in the shower room Carrie starts to menstruate. She’s completely unaware of the process and panics thinking she’s dying.

As she pleads with the other girls to help her they start to laugh. They corner her in the shower pelting her with tampons and pads. The teacher who comes to intervene slaps and shakes Carrie as she huddles in the corner.

Carrie is sent home. Her mother responds to the news that Carrie’s period has started by hitting her with a book and trying to make her recite misogynist verses about Eve’s sin and the weakness of women. She then drags Carrie to a cupboard and locks her in.

The PE teacher punishes the group of girls who tormented Carrie earlier, their detention period is essentially a forced exercise regime designed to exhaust them. One of the girls, Chris, objects, she’s told the punishment for leaving is refusal of her prom tickets. She argues with the teacher and the teacher slaps and shakes her. Chris leaves.

One of the girls, Sue, appears to regret what she did and persuades her boyfriend Tommy to ask Carrie to the prom in Sue’s place.

Carrie initially refuses, suspecting that it’s a ruse to humiliate her again. Tommy tracks her down to her home and repeatedly asks her to come, not taking Carrie’s repeated refusals for an answer. With her mother calling in the background Carrie eventually gives her very unenthusiastic consent. The scene strongly suggests she does this to get rid of Tommy.

In the mean time Chris blames Carrie for her problems and enlists her boyfriend to take revenge. They break into a farm and kill a pig. The blood is put in a bucket over the stage in the prom hall and another of Chris’ friends volunteers to collect the ballots for prom king and queen.

Carrie argues with her mother about going to the prom. Her mother tries to order Carrie into the closet and Carrie refuses to go. Her mother shakes and berates her and Carrie uses her abilities to close the windows in the house. Her mother calls her a witch and tells her to renounce her powers. Carrie refuses.

Later Carrie’s mother tries to persuade Carrie not to go to the prom. She tells Carrie it’s sinful, tries to make Carrie ashamed of her body, says Tommy isn’t coming and then starts hitting herself and pulling out her own hair in a bid to ‘make’ Carrie stay. Carrie throws her mother on to the bed with her powers.

Carrie and Tommy go to the prom and Carrie appears to be enjoying herself. Chris’ friends rig the voting so that Tommy and Carrie are announced as the prom king and queen. Carrie appears overjoyed.

Sue happily watches them take the stage from the sidelines. Then she notices the rope and the bucket of blood above Carrie. Sue follows the rope under the stage where Chris and her boyfriend are hiding but a teacher tugs her away.

Chris pulls the rope and Carrie is drenched in blood in front of the school. Tommy is hit on the head with the bucket and falls to the floor.

Carrie uses her powers to barricade the doors and turns the fire hose on the trapped crowd. She shorts out the electrics and begins bringing objects down on the crowd, killing the PE teacher. Wires from the microphone wrap around the Principal and he’s thrown against the stage backdrop. The stage catches fire and Carrie walks calmly down from it while the other students panic and scream around her.

As she walks out down the road Chris and her boyfriend drive up behind her and try to hit her with the car. Carrie makes the car swerve, it crashes and explodes.

Carrie returns home and finds lit candles all over the house. When she finds her mother she asks for comfort and her mother asks her to pray. Then she stabs Carrie.

Carrie falls down the stairs and tries to crawl away, but her mother follows with the knife, smiling. The doors are locked and as her mother advances Carrie uses her powers to stab her mother repeatedly. This seems to be instinctual because she later takes her mother’s body in her arms.

The roof starts to collapse and Carrie drags herself and her mother’s body into the cupboard she was locked in to pray. The house collapses around them and catches fire.

In this case most of what I’m reviewing isn’t legally torture, because the legal definition in most countries requires the abuser to be in an official position of power. Carrie is mostly tormented by her peers, people who don’t hold any legal power over her.

There’s a lot going on here and I found it quite hard to categorise the movie. In the end I decided to give it 5/10

The Good

The movie doesn't show abuse as a successful method of control. Slapping Carrie doesn't calm her down. Verbal and physical abuse from her classmates doesn't change her behaviour. Her mother's abuse doesn't stop her wanting, or seeking, 'normal' high school things. Abuse directed towards Chris doesn't change her objectives or make her submit to what she sees as an unfair punishment.

Carrie does show appeasement behaviour towards her mother at several points, but the movie puts this in a larger emotional context. Carrie might thank her mother and kiss her after being abused but the following scene shows her crying in her room. In fact I think what this film shows is how victims often feel constrained by circumstances beyond their control. As soon as the balance of power shifts Carrie starts to defy her mother.

One of the things that stood out for me throughout this movie was the way it portrayed abuse and isolation as intertwined. Carrie is abused at home and hence she is 'weird' and hence she is isolated at school and hence she's an easy target for bullying and more abuse. That's unfortunately very true to life. And it applies to adult survivors just as much as children.

The movie also shows a systematic failure in the school when it comes to tackling abuse. The PE teacher’s response is reactive; she doesn’t actually protect Carrie from her peers and her failure to get through to Chris arguably prompts the ‘prank’ that drives Carrie to violence. This also seems very true to life.

Emotional abuse isn’t dismissed at any point. Most of the physical abuse throughout the movie isn’t scarring; it’s isolation and slaps and small rooms which is often presented as if it does no lasting harm. This isn’t the case here.

The responses different characters have to abuse throughout all seem possible. Carrie’s attempts to defy her mother, withdrawal and appeasement behaviour are all plausible behaviours in abused children. Anger, aggression and violent outbursts are possible and Chris demonstrates them as well as Carrie.

Symptoms also seem apparent even though they’re never named. The ending shows Sue suffering from night terrors and possibly PTSD. Carrie’s behaviour before the prom can be interpreted as showing anxiety and depression.

The Bad

Throughout the movie I didn’t feel as though there was any moral judgement placed on any of the characters. Their actions were presented and the way other characters responded to those actions was presented. For the majority of the abusive incidents I don’t think this is a bad thing. I don’t usually think it’s necessary to spoon feed readers moral messages. But I found the casual use of violence by a teacher who is framed as sympathetic troubling. I also found the way violence between Chris and her boyfriend was framed as normal troubling.

In a similar vein I found the attitude to consent worrying. Carrie is essentially harassed into agreeing to go to the prom. Tommy is pressured by Sue into asking Carrie. Chris pressures her boyfriend into bullying Carrie. Carrie’s mother states that she was raped and then that she enjoyed it.

While the movie clearly shows the reasons Carrie turns on her teachers and school-mates it’s still centred on a young, vulnerable abuse survivor being a danger to the people around her. Which is an unfortunately common narrative.

The idea that abuse survivors are dangerous is propped up by Carrie’s mother claiming she was raped moments before trying to murder her daughter.

Miscellaneous

I was surprised by the level of casual violence and abuse in the movie. Within the first half hour there are several depictions of teachers hitting students (which can be classed as torture), parental abuse, partner abuse and abuse by peers. I suspect much of this reflects different attitudes to violence at the time the film was made.

Overall

I think there are probably a lot of cultural references and touchstones I’m missing throughout this. Even without the bullying and violence it isn’t a school experience I recognise. I can’t help but wonder how different the effect is on an audience that had a mix of genders at school and had things like ‘the prom’ shape their adolescence. In fact just the casual portrayal of teenagers having cars seems unusual to me.

I didn’t really feel moved by the story and I didn’t feel like I recognised or sympathised with any of the characters. It’s certainly not how I would write a story about abuse.

But that doesn’t make it a bad portrayal. My interpretation is that it’s primarily a story which shows characters making a string of bad decisions rather than one which endorses those decisions. The narrative itself seems to present very little judgement, it shows the characters judging each other but doesn’t really seem to support any one.

That lack of internal judgement means it’s possible to interpret Carrie as a narrative about a survivor who feels she has no choice but violence because she faces systematic abuse and a systematic lack of practical support. It’s also possible to interpret Carrie as a narrative about how survivors are a danger to the community at large.

Everything that Carrie shows in terms of responses to abuse and its effects seems plausible to me. None of the abusive practices are portrayed as harmless. Nothing that would cause death or serious injury is portrayed as harmless.

Having said that, Carrie herself is still the villain.

I think we should have room for stories about survivors ‘taking revenge’ and survivors who are just bad people. There are violent and abusive survivors in real life but it’s not nearly as common as most people think.

I’m not sure this story is nuanced enough to successfully make the distinction between showing a violent survivor and showing survivors as violent.

There’s still some good stuff here. The story never dismisses or belittles abuse. It’s focused on the effects and fallout of abuse in a way that seems quite unusual for a horror story. I particularly liked the way the movie showed the communal failure to support or protect Carrie because that is so true to life. It also does a fantastic job of highlighting how interconnected abuse and isolation can be as well as the ways that can make survivors vulnerable.

If this was written today I’d say it was a good first draft. As it is I think this is a little dated and some of the narrative choices leave very unfortunate implications. But there’s a lot of good in here too.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#tw torture #tw rape #tw familial abuse #torture in fiction #Carrie #fantasy #torture in schools #emotional abuse #clean torture #writing victims

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sunlightdances · 5 years

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Blooming in the Shadows (1/6)

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Rating: Overall PG-13 because of canon-typical violence. Also swearing. Words: 2,573 (this part) Warnings: Angst! Dean and the Reader swearing like sailors! Mutual pining with a dash of bed sharing and a slow burn romance added in for extra fluffy goodness. Summary: You and Dean Winchester are barely friends. His sudden reappearance from Hell brings you together, and you find yourself right back in the life you ran away from when you were a teenager. (Canon AU that takes place during season 4, specifically starting at 4.01 - for reference, Dean is 29) Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Dean Winchester. I also don’t own “Love is a Wild Thing” by Kacey Musgraves, which I used lyrics from for the title. I do own original elements of the plot. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites (ao3 and wattpad included!) - reblogs are welcomed, as are replies and likes!

Links in posts are acting dumb, but you can find the master list for this fic on my blog, as well as my full master list :)

The gravel crunches under your boots as you walk slowly across the parking lot, your gun at the ready, your heart hammering in your ears. You feel half-deaf - the high pitched noise from a few minutes earlier enough to knock out the windows in this gas station, and the hearing from your ears.

It makes you jumpy - worried that something is going to have an advantage over you because your senses are muted.

Your car had all but died driving down this lonely stretch of highway, your hunter senses instantly on alert when the radio fizzled and faded out, your engine following suit soon after. Your car windows were the next things to bite it - the sound so piercing it shattered every window. You’ll have time to be embarrassed about the pained scream you had let out later.

“What the hell…” you whisper, looking at the doorway and the blown out windows, seeing salt lines spread across.

“Hands up.” A deep voice from behind you startles you, and you curse as you flinch. “Where I can see both of them.”

You turn slowly, and your hand drops when you realize who you’re looking at. “Jesus Christ--” you curse, gun flying back up at the ready.

His eyes widen as he recognizes you, and your own eyes harden, because no matter what your eyes are telling you, your heart knows this is not Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester is in hell.

“Kid, you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

Another strike. The Dean you know would never be happy to see you, no matter the circumstances. “Don’t move,” you hiss, taking a step towards it. “Don’t fucking move or I swear, I’ll--”

“It’s me.”

Strike three.

“Bullshit. Give me one reason I shouldn’t take a shot right now.” You will your hands not to shake. You need to have the upper hand here.

“Do the checks.” His voice is sharp. You flinch again, cursing under your breath softly. “Do it.”

Still aiming your gun with one hand, you take a step closer, pulling a knife from your back pocket. He’s in short sleeves, so it’s not difficult to slowly move down, eyes on his, nicking him with the silver knife.

If he hears your audible sigh of relief, he doesn’t say anything.

“Wait,” you say before he can move, “One more.” The knife goes back in your pocket. You did your flask out of your other pocket. A quick flick of your wrist and his face is doused in holy water. His eyes scrunch in discomfort, but otherwise there’s no sizzling of flesh, no screams of fury.

It’s him. It’s Dean.

You both stare at each other, not sure what to do. You’ve never been huggers, so you say the only thing you can think of.

“Dean, what the hell?”

~~~~

Hours later, your hearing is almost back to normal as you sit with Dean in the grimy restroom of the gas station, watching as he washes his face and takes some antiseptic to the cuts littering his forearms and face. He winces, meeting your eyes in the mirror. You look away quickly.

“So…” He starts, clearing his throat. “Come here often?”

You meet his gaze with a blank look. “I was driving. Car stopped. Then the noise, and… you know the rest, I guess.” You stand, starting to pace. “How are you here? How is this possible? Sam--”

“Sam said I was in hell.”

You shrug. “Well, yeah.”

“Didn’t know you two still talked.”

You roll your eyes. “Are we really going to do this right now? One of you was going to hell - he thought I should know about it.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you’re about to tell him how typical it is that he’s ignoring you even though you’re literally the only one who can get him out of here right now-- you see that he’s staring at his shoulder.

There’s a fucking handprint burned into his arm.

“What the--”

“Fuck.” Dean finishes, and you think it’s the only time the two of you have ever been on the same page in your entire lives.

“Don’t panic,” you say, more to yourself than him, but he takes offense anyway.

“I’m not panicking. You don’t panic.”

“I wasn’t--” You stop yourself with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Never mind. We have to get out of here. Whatever that was… I don’t really feel like sticking around to find out how pissed it’s going to be when it comes back.”

Begrudgingly, he agrees. You gather up your bag and sling it over your shoulder, Dean following you out of the building, the sunlight reflecting off the broken glass making you shield your eyes.

Your car is only about fifty feet away. Dean stops halfway there. “Your car?”

You groan. “Really, Dean? How else are we supposed to get out of here?”

He glares. “I meant -- you said your engine died. Am I going to have to work on this car?” The again goes without saying, images of a teenage Dean grumbling as he changes the oil in your car flashing through your head.

You shrug. “I guess so, I don’t know. I didn’t do this on purpose, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he’s not arguing either, so you take it as a win. He opens the hood and you watch as he goes to work with the few tools you had in the trunk, grumbling to himself the entire time.

You can’t help but be on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop - either for whatever blew out the windows in town to show up again, or for Dean to decide he’s had enough and leave you here.

“Get inside and turn the key, kid,” Dean says, and for once you don’t argue. You get in the driver’s seat and start the engine, laughing triumphantly when it starts right up. Dean peers around the hood, an answering grin on his face. He shuts the hood and slides into the passenger seat, tossing both of your bags over his shoulder and into the back seat.

“Careful, the glass--”

“Just drive,” Dean says, “You remember the way to Bobby’s?”

You glare at him, the car still in park. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Just wondered if you remembered where it was, seeing as how you turned tail and never came back as soon as you were old enough--”

“You can walk there, if you’d like.” Your voice is cold. You hate him. You hate that he has the ability to make you feel like you’re the absolute scum of the earth. As if you don’t feel enough guilt about the way you left things all those years ago.

“I’m--” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly. He lets out a deep exhale. “Sorry. I’m just--”

“I know.” You keep your voice quiet. “Let’s just-- we’ll get to Bobby’s and he’ll know what to do.” Almost to yourself, you repeat it. “He’ll know what to do.”

Your foot hits the gas, and you start to drive.

Bobby reacts much in the same way you had, splashing holy water in both of your faces before he grabs Dean into a bone crushing hug. You stand there, arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to remind yourself that there’s clearly something bigger going on here, so you don’t have time to feel like an outsider.

“Don’t just stand there,” Bobby says, gruff, grabbing your elbow and tugging you in, so you’re awkwardly pinned underneath Bobby’s arm and pressed up against Dean’s side, the weirdest group hug in the history of mankind.

“Okay, okay,” Dean says, “I hate to break up this happy family moment, but we have to figure out what the hell is going on. How long have I been gone? Where’s Sam?”

You could hear a pin drop.

“It’s been four months,” You say quietly.

“That’s it?” Dean looks back and forth between you and Bobby. “That doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I haven’t seen or heard from Sam since we buried you.” Bobby says, and you freeze. Yikes, that’s not what you were expecting.

“Since you buried me? What the hell?” Dean asks through grit teeth.

“Sam was dead set against a hunter’s funeral. I couldn’t-- it wasn’t my decision to make. Lucky for you,” He adds, glaring at Dean, who rolls his eyes.

“No one’s heard from Sam in months?” He looks back at you.

You shrug. “He called me when-- when you died. That’s the last I heard from him.”

“He doesn’t want to be found, Dean.” Bobby says.

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “I-- I need some air. We need to find him.” Dean says, voice tight, before he pushes through the screen door and out into the yard.

You watch him go, wary, before looking back over at Bobby, who’s already looking at you. “What?”

“Did you get him out?” Bobby asks, almost a growl.

“Excuse me?”

“You brought him here. He was supposed to be in hell.” Bobby takes a step closer. “Did you make a deal?”

The air is practically sucked out of your lungs. Jesus, no wonder Bobby is so pissed all of a sudden. “No! God, Bobby.” You cross your arms tight over your chest. “I found him. It was coincidence, the whole thing. I don’t know any more than you do about how he got out.”

“I’m just saying, I know how you feel--”

You hold your hand up, “Stop right there. I don’t feel anything.” You’re so angry you can barely see straight. It’s not like you’re not relieved Dean isn’t being tortured in hell. No matter how much you two can’t stand each other, you’d never wish that on him. But you absolutely do not have feelings for him.

Maybe you did once, when you were young and stupid and didn’t know how the world worked. Before you realized what a fucking cliche it was - a young, starry-eyed hunter and the over-protective, broody type. God. What a riot. Sure, you thought he was attractive. You knew deep down he was a good person. It was easy for you to develop a crush on him when you were sixteen and constantly in close quarters with him.

But then he developed a mean streak, and you received the message loud and clear. You hit the road as soon as you felt confident enough to hunt on your own, and didn’t look back.

10 years earlier…

You’re struggling to keep your voice down as you stand almost toe to toe with Bobby in the kitchen, very aware of the Winchesters asleep in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

“I’m not asking for your permission,” you tell him.

“Good, because I’m not giving it.” He fires back.

You resist the urge to stomp your foot. Certainly wouldn’t help your case. “Bobby, I-- I am so grateful to you. You have no idea. But I have to do this. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m just in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What’s going on?” A deep voice interrupts, and you turn to look at Dean standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He looks between you and Bobby, and then his gaze finally settles on the bag at your feet.

“Going somewhere?”

“I’m not doing this. I’ll call when I get to a motel,” you say, leaning in to give Bobby a hug before he can say anything else.

Dean says your name, but you ignore him. You shoulder your way out the front door, trying like hell to keep your tears at bay, because despite what Bobby thinks, this actually isn’t the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Hey!”

You stop, shoulders slumping as you hear his voice. Jesus, you really don’t want to argue with him. Not now.

“What the hell is going on?” His eyes are a little wild. You chalk it up to it being the middle of the night. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” You take the few remaining steps towards your car, wrenching open the driver’s side back door to toss your bag onto the seat.

“What are you talking about?”

“God!” You whirl around, “Why is this so hard for everyone to understand! I’m leaving. I’m going to hunt on my own, or find some friends, or whatever. I’m going.”

Dean actually looks a little speechless, which would be a first for him. “Why?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. You laugh so hard you know he’s probably thinking you’re possessed. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Dean? Now it’ll be just the three of you, the way it was before I came along and ruined everything.”

He looks like you’ve slapped him across the face. “I never--”

“Yes, you did. Look, I don’t know what I ever did to make you hate me so much, after all, it wasn’t my fault that demon killed my parents and I had nowhere else to go. But you do, and I can’t-- living here with all of you and constantly feeling like I don’t belong here is… it’s suffocating. I can’t stand it anymore. So I’m going.”

Dean shifts his weight, his hands going to his hips. “What about Bobby? Sam? You’re just going to turn your back on them.”

You try not to flinch at the way he pointedly leaves himself out of the list of people you care about.

“I’m not turning my back on anyone. I don’t belong here. I never have.” You can’t help but add, “You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

His mouth opens and closes again, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. You hate yourself for the tiny flare of hope that springs up inside you.

“If you go now, you don’t get to come back.”

And… that’s it. The last piece of your already fragile heart breaks. You’re surprised it isn’t an audible sound. A tear slips down your cheek, but you’re too exhausted to wipe it away.

“I have to go,” Is all you can say, softly, and you watch as he takes a half step towards you before stopping, clenching his fists at his sides. He turns on his heel and heads inside without so much as a backwards glance, and only when you’re in the car, pulling out onto the main road, do you let the rest of your tears fall.

Now

Bobby checks you over for a concussion even though you insist you’re fine, and you convince him to go check on Dean, too.

You take the precious few minutes you’re alone to reacquaint yourself with the old house, running your fingers reverently over the spines of the books on the shelves, and smiling at the pictures of the Winchesters and Bobby.

You have to remember that whatever is going on here is bigger than you. It’s bigger than whatever bad blood there is between you and Dean. You decide you’re going to take the high road and help them with whatever this is, but leave as soon as they’ve got it handled. You won’t be a burden to them. Not anymore.

When they come back in, Dean’s sleeve is rolled up again, the edges of that burn mark peeking out underneath black cotton. You try not to stare at it.

“I got a hit on the GPS on Sam’s phone.”

Tag list for this fic is OPEN. Please send me an ASK to be added - they’re much easier for me to keep track of!

New chapters posted every Friday!

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #dean winchester imagine #blooming in the shadows fic

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deafchild2000 · 5 years

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I Never Really Liked Rikki

Alright before y'all go on and say I'm "shitposting" or degrading your favorite mermaid, just let me let it out!

Rikki Chadwick is one of the 5 mermaids (yes, counting Bella and Charlotte) on H2O: Just Add Water. When she she became a mermaid, she got heating powers, essentially leading to actual fire and lightning powers in Season 2.

On the Wikia, she's described as: Rikki is quite rebellious, independent, sarcastic and carefree, making the two argue often.Rikki frequently speaks her mind without euphemism or without care that her opinions might hurt other people's feelings. She has a hard time sympathizing with people who are in pain, as seen in "Dangerous Waters." She can be very stubborn and has a short temper. Rikki has a strong adventurous streak and is the first to fully embrace the possibilities of the girls' new powers. Despite their arguments, Rikki and Emma do get along a lot of the times, and Rikki genuinely cares for her friends. This is demonstrated when she takes Emma and Cleo out on a shopping spree with her new money in "Dangerous Waters." To make up for her previous blunder in the same episode, she also does her best to buy Cleo the perfect new fish (as thanks, Cleo dubs the fish "Hot Stuff," in honor of Rikki). Rikki also shows her care for Emma when Rikki prods Byron to apologize to her friend in "Sink or Swim," revealing that Emma is not as tough and thick-skinned as she lets on.

Not only does Rikki shows her rebellious nature freely, but she encourage it in her friends as well. In "Pressure Cooker", Rikki encouraged Cleo and Emma to rebel against Charlotte Watsford and her mother, Annette Watsford who were invited by Don Sertori to stay over for dinner. Thinking that Don is getting remarried and that Charlotte will become Cleo's step sister, Rikki encouraged the others to use their powers to ruin the food, not knowing that Annette was only invited as a business partner. Despite her carefree nature, Rikki is capable of displaying a sense of responsibility especially when it comes to money. In the episode "Hook, Line and Sinker", Rikki attempted to look for some financial security for her family by attending Harrison Bennett's seminar, only to find it to be a scam. In "In Over Our Heads", Rikki attempted to help her father by trying to find a lost treasure for the reward money because her family was struggling with the bills. During her stay as café manager in season three, she was able to show her ability in running a business successful. When Rikki left after breaking up with Zane, the café started to struggle despite Sophie replacing her as manager, showing her organizational and monetary abilities.

But the things is, I never connected to her. Actually, I could never relate to any of the trio, but Rikki at most (ironically it's Charlotte and Bella that has my favor.).

See, by technically, I should like her because I'm sarcastic, independent, rebellious, stubborn, easily vengeful, unapologetically blunt at times and savvy business-wise (side hustle - jobs- for money). Plus I've been borderline homeless and raised by a single parent.

But for myself and others, I had needed to be more than that. Where I'm sarcastic, I am concerned and loyal when it needs to be regardless of circumstances. Where I'm independent, even I have to admit defeat and ask for help because I accept I don't know everything. When I'm stubborn, while admitting for fighting in what I believe in, I do my best to set it aside when need be or else Karma would be on my ass. For my rebelliousness, I have to know when I draw the line and go too far. Same goes for being vengeful, but I at least have someone (mom and uncle) on my corner to steer me away and even get a good laugh out of it while I can still reverse it. I'm legit working on being blunt since past experiences taught me sugarcoating isny always the best option, but I do have basic understanding why people do it. Sometimes the bandaid does need gently peeling to get the job done - especially if it's for the sake of a child.

So in comparison, between me and Rikki, felt that aside from a few glimpses of her realizing her mistakes and vulnerability, in those 3 years of being a mermaid, she never really took on the lessons she learned and developed Empathy. Empathy is all about understanding someone and their feelings, especially if their in a place you've been before. And considering that Rikki had a bunch of friends to pull her from the dark side of her personality, no one really bothered to do that when her personality took a turn for the worse in Season 2. Season 3 was when she nearly reached the point of No Return if Will hadn't intervene to stop her from borderline killing Ryan in the moon pool.

Then, I've talked to friends about this and perhaps it originally stemmed from the mermaid aspect of her life. Yes, H2O is just a tv show, and it aired years before I entered my own teenhood, but people are drawn to it because they can relate to the girls in the show. So, when it came to being a mermaid, I believed that it was because all teenagers struggled with being different and that what usually (or generally) sets them apart from their peers.

Now, I live in the US, and I'm an African-American female who's smart (book and street-wise) and has an internal, physical disability: I'm deaf in my right ear. Add in a potential fact that I might have Aspergers (a form of Autism), I never really stood a chance growing up. I knew how to be apart of a group (most of the time), but I was essentially a wall flower in it. There was/are time when I had to dive into things trending for pre/teens just so I had to understand what the big fuss was about. (Plus watching people deal with unnecessary teen drama has always been a turnoff for me.)

Thus leading me to believe Rikki never really had to fight for anything. Yeah, she was pure but not poor enough to live in a single house of multiple strangers (which was my life in 5th grade). She didn't have to struggle to fit in, whether or not that was the case, since she basically had her own little niche of mermaid sisters and (a) boyfriend. In my case, that's more than anyone could ever get in high school- minus the mermaid aspect. But if you add that in, Rikki literally had a whole separate life all to herself where she could get away and in my case, I never had that. Reading and writing was the only escape I had from reality and there were times even that wasn't enough.

So, during that time, if I was one, being a mermaid, like Rikki, would be embeaced but with the rightful amount of shock of the situation would also be there as well.

And maybe I would be prone to abuse my powers, who wouldn't? Having a supernatural ability, using it as I see fit to work for me or against others? I actually thing having something no one else has tend to make anyone else selfish, whether they are all alone or in a small group of those like them. It's Human Nature to be like that. Besides, look when the trio had done so on multiple occasions, yet were hypocrites in regard to Charlotte when she did so to Nate. (Which I will happily point out all the times Rikki did just that, like when she found out she was a part of a fish scheme and all the other times she blantatly almost killed someone with her powers.)

However, I also knew that "With Great Power, Comes Great Repsonibility" is true, regardless of fictional or realistic obligations. If I did want to just pranks someone, I would do it so obviously- with potentially witnesses- and then make it a recurring gag.

(To be honest, if I did and did it so often to a sibling like Kim Sertori, well, let's just say I'd accept responsibility If I got found out because I had it coming for doing said pranks in the first place.)

If I had wanted to use my powers like a weapon to harm someone, I knew I better have a damn good reason to do so, especially if said powers were as dangerous as Rikki's. And then question if that said person was a threat or just someone I really didn't like. And add in the fact if it was on purpose or a genuine accident (like, for example, how I'd like to believe Emma was traumatized after realizing ahe had frozen Miriam alive. Sure the girls saved her in time, but still, that should have been a hint to the girls to not only expand the knowledge of their powers, but become increasingly aware of how dangerous they are. So if they hadn't saved Miriam or Rikki ended up killing her....)

Basically summarizing above, Rikki was shown on more than one regard just how careless and irresponsible she is with her powers and then had the nerve to be self-righteous and hypocritical when someone else does it, and it's someone she doesn't like.

However, while I admit to giving her cudos on some of her ocean adventure - definitely as she's a career diver as an adult- I don't think she really took into account just how much of an advantage she had as a mermaid. While she wasn't a full-on superhero, she probably spent more time in the ocean more than anyone else since getting her tail. Meaning you'd finished being more awareness to the issues on the ocean such as trash and oil spills, taking in for granted having a rich boyfriend could technically help achieve resources to do so. Yeah, they shouldn't be drawing attention to themselves, like at all, but if the ocean is your second home, you can't tell me you'd wouldn't try to help keep that home alive and healthy.

So maybe the producers didn't show it or it just never occurred to them (or in Rikki's case, until her job profession), but if I had mermaid powers and a tail, Lord knows I would have been kept busy for all my teen years cleaning the beaches and pulling up trash after trash to at least somebody caught onto it and started taking action themselves. Not starting a trend, but a chain reaction. And it wouldn't be a seasonal thing either. Basically, if you had the ability to be a live like a fish, you use your human life to bring awareness to sustain that life. We caught maybe a few glimpses btwn H2O and Mako Mermaids, but that would have been a great way for Rikki to express just how much she clearly cared about being a mermaid. But thus she didn't, so I have no reason to believe she did or had a basic understanding of what oppertunities she had offered to her as a mermaid.

I would see it before anyone told me.

And sensing that I'm going off topic, I'll just steer myself back to the point: All other reasons aside, here are my main reasons I never liked her:

Rikki never really grew to have Empathy, or understand when someone is in a place where she once was. She stayed mentally the same as she grew up and it wasn't until she was an adult and found herself back where she started, that she finally developed it.

She actually had more than any other teenage girl can want and more. A roof over her head to call her own, friends and a chance for a significant other? Plus an amazing double life you had to see to believe? For someone like me, who has to fight through obstacles everyday between my race and disability, everything about that spells something worth taking for granted.

She never really took responsibility for her powers or learned from the trouble she caused. Maybe at the time, things seemed necessary, but overall, she was extremely careless and selfish in regards for it. And then some, in regards for using her powers in public and nearly exposed herself, especially when nearly seriously hurting someone, but then had the nerve to berate someone who did just that when she'd done the exact same or worse (adding in potentially murdering someone in the midst of her anger). Season 2 was the so best example of how bad that got and frankly, turned me against her completely to be honest. And Season 3 was basically like Season 1, only Cleo was in Emma's place plus a crazed obsession with protection the moon pool. (Which proven right considered how many damn people found it in the show's history, but still!)

While debatable, she never shown and consideration to the environment ( the Ocean) until it fit her needs. I can name a hundred of ways she could have shown concern and and helped environmental impacts and sea animals affected by it, and do it anonymously, especially considering her future job as a diver.

Like all stories, the 2000s H2O trio is supposed to be 3-dimensial characters who change throughout the story - or in this case, a show - where Emma was a responsible girl who learned to enjoy life, Cleo was a kind girl who learned to grow a backbone and Rikki was a loner who got friends.

As a child, it's easy to see it that way. And considering how Rikki is viewed as someone you'd want to grow up into -Strong, opinionated, stand firm in what's right - who wouldn't idolize that. Anyone, even young girls, should be like that because, in the real world, values like that are rarer than your led to believe.

But when you take into to account of whether or not Rikki is the type of role model you should look up to, then that's why I labeled and the things she's done under:

Static Character.

Rikki started and ended H2O as a mermaid with a rebellious streak. But though she's made mistakes and apologized, she never changed who she was and truly learned from her mistakes, leading me to believe she just kept getting things without any real consequences, thus no character developement.

As I'm ending this, I will acknowledge that I know this sounds like a rant degrading Rikki - and someone will chew me out defending her for it- but after watching all the seasons and how taken Rikki into consideration I came to see if she was real, we'd never get along. So while I'm not going "I hate her so much!" or "She's so ugly!", I'm simply stating why that I don't believe Rikki deserves all the fanfare she's got over the years.

#h2o just add water #mermaids #rikki chadwick #rant #why I don't like this character

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rootfauna · 6 years

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A Handmaiden’s Tale. Specifically, Mine.

I’e been debating on whether or not to make this post for a while now, and I’ve decided that the benefits of saying my piece outweigh any hate I’ll get for this. It’s really long but I have no more fucks to give.

I am so, so, sick of the trend in radical feminism of calling women who aren’t radical feminists “cocksuckers” “wastes of time” “dick riders” “sellouts” “cowards” and “handmaidens”. Anti feminist women and liberal feminist women can be incredibly annoying and have made me want to put my head through a wall, and I honestly can’t blame anyone for making a snide remark about them here or there. But I absolutely cannot wrap my mind around the fact that a group of women who supposedly A) understands the misogyny of using a woman’s (real of hypothetical) sexual interactions with a man as an insult against her, B) acknowledges the realities of female socialization in a patriarchal society and C) understands the potential dangerous outcomes of a woman speaking up against misogyny, can go around unabashedly talking about women this way. Every time I scroll through my dash I’ll come across at least one post lamenting how young girls are indoctrinated into believing their worth lies in their beauty, femininity, and (hetero)sexuality. Why then, do I see so much vitriol directed at the ones who believed it?

The last time I spoke about this I was accused of ‘making it all about myself’ because I shared a snippet of my personal experience. Well, I’m about to share more than a snippet. Yet this isn’t about me, and I will be the first one to tell you that I am nowhere near unique in this sense. So I guess this is actually the experience of thousands and thousands of women, this is just how it happened to me:

To start with, y’all need to understand where I grew up. If the ‘y’all’ wasn’t a big enough clue, I grew up in bumfuck nowhere USA. Here’s another fact that’s vital to my story: I was born in 1991. That fact, coupled with my geographic location, meant that when I started school in 1996, corporal punishment was still legal (to be carried out by the principal) and up until around that time my mother could still legally sign documents as “mrs” *insert my father’s name*.

Growing up in this environment meant that gender roles were highly enforced around me and that at an early age I saw deviance from them met with hatred and scorn. I could name plenty of examples, but really, haven’t we all seen that? Even the respectable women who dared not be housewives never rose to a more prominent position than a teacher, bank clerk, or selling Mary Kay. Before the age of about 10 I have absolutely no memory of seeing a woman in a position of skill and power beyond these things except for Terry Irwin on tv. It might be noted that I grew up wanting to be a zookeeper. I don’t remember the first time I heard the word “feminist” but from my earliest recollection it was not a good word. Then, as today in my neck of the woods, “feminist” is an insult. I can remember sitting in the back seat of the car listening to my father and his friend ranting about something they heard on the radio about how “the feminists” (word spat out like tobacco juice) were ruining something or other. It was clear to me that whatever these feminists were, they were bad.

Things really kicked into gear once I got into middle school. What had been a vague concept in the back of my mind was now pulled to the front of the classroom. I distinctly remember sitting in 7th grade biology and learning about the inherent differences between male and female brains. The teacher explained how our brains were wired differently, and that male brains were designed so that logical and analytical thought came naturally to them, but expressing emotion and communicating did not. This, the teacher said, is why men often erupt into fits of anger rather than say how they feel. On the other hand, female brains were designed to have ease of communication, and to be more aware of our own emotions and those of others. They were not designed for quick, logical, rational thinking. Don’t get me wrong; it was never taught to me that women were incapable of logical, rational, thinking, just that we were biologically at a disadvantage to men in that regard. I tried (like other girls in the class) to have some pride in my lady-brain. I’m wired to be better at something than a boy! Ha! Though it was around this time I began to shift my focus away from scientific pursuits and towards the arts. 7th grade was also the beginning of outright public sexual harassment that no adult seemed to give a shit about. There was “thong Thursday”, for example. We 12-13 year old girls were encouraged by the boys to wear thongs and lean over so that they could see the tops of them, or to wear our jeans low enough for them to peek over. This happened openly in the halls, but never once addressed by the adults. And woe to any girl who spoke out about it. That much feared “feminist!” accusation could be hurled at her, and she’d be publicly humiliated and mocked, and no one would dare help her lest they be feminist by association. There was also ‘grab-ass Wednesday’ which makes absolutely no sense but is exactly what you’re thinking.

The official school lesson on male and female brains resurfaced again, this time in 10th grade sociology class. This time in addition to the physical differences in the brains, we learned about inherent differences in behavior and societal roles. It was honestly something taken straight from some MRA’s drivel; men evolved to be the Strong Hunter Protector of the species, brain different, this why big words make man ANGRY he hit you because his brain can’t make his mouth talk feelings he want to BREED. Woman want BABY lots of emotions need man to protec blah blah blah. To us at this point, all of this was objective fact. Also at this point, the effects and impact of female socialization were starting to become disgustingly apparent. Around this time the security officer at the school was fired for ‘having sex’ with a fourteen year old freshman. It was so SCANDALOUS because...what a SLUT! It would not occur to me until YEARS later that maybe sex between a 14 year old girl and the adult male security officer hired to protect her was...uh, rape. As high school continued, so did the development of our female anti-feminism. I’ve seen radfems on here discuss how men are socialized to think that their thoughts and emotions are objective fact, but I’ve never seen it pointed out that women are socialized to believe so, too. As interactions with boys became more frequent their attention became more and more prized. When a boy said “you’re beautiful” or “you’re not like the other girls” or “you’re smart” it was seen as a pure and shining compliment, a shining nugget of truth. If a girl said the same thing? You never knew, she could just be two-faced, she would change her mind in a matter of seconds, or just be on her period. Of course, we began to strive to receive more compliments from boys because what teenager DOESN’T want to be respected and valued by their peers?

By the end of high school several of my peers were married and/or had a baby already. I had intended to go to school for journalism, but in a sudden fit of either teenage rebellion or wisdom, I took the plunge into working with animals. This saw me moving about a thousand miles away from my home town, my parents, friends, and all forms of social support. As it turns out, animal training and handling, particularly dog training and handling, is an incredibly male dominated field. Even compared to my previous life experience, it was extremely misogynistic. I found myself working long shifts at night, often with only male coworkers who were near universally older, larger, and stronger than I was. Here, I was expected to laugh it off when one of them said that if the world were about to end, the first thing he’d do was rape me. Or when my boss joked about raping me. Or when one of them (more or less out of nowhere) said that he didn’t think there would ever be a female president because “when I think “president” I think “man””. I did what I was supposed to do and took some satisfaction in their approval despite my first, suppressed, twinge of discomfort. In a strange city, in a strange area of the country, sleeping during the day and working long hours, I had little elsewhere to look for friendship and social interaction. So I made friends. Long night shifts with no one else to talk to and little else to do will do that to people. Of course, I wasn’t the ONLY woman at my place of work. I was friendly with the other women but the lifelong effects of being socialized to view women as inferior kept any of us from growing too close to each other. After all, despite growing up elsewhere they had similar upbringings. When they weren’t present the men openly chatted about who they thought the woman had slept with, how smelly her vagina must be, what her nipples probably looked like, and I held my tongue still under the delusion that if I was Good and Not Like the Other Girls, they wouldn’t speak like that about me behind my back. Feminism was only mentioned to mock women, or, more importantly, to bring up how the the country was sexist against men. The men lamented about how “in this country a man can’t be raped I guess” and “female special privileges” and “the DRAFT” and I believed them, because I didn’t have much of a reason or incentive not to. Women were viewed and treated as walking cries of rape unless they laughed when groped.

I called one of these male friends one night, in tears. My kitten, a tiny little thing named Ginkgo, had escaped from my apartment and I pleaded with him to help me search for her. He came over and we searched in vain for her. I was heartbroken, sobbing, and desperate for comfort and when the hug I was given became lustful I tried to refuse. He argued that I had woken him up in the middle of the night to come all the way to my home to look for a lost kitten; I owed it to him. That it wasn’t fair for me to refuse him and that it was selfish of me to expect compassion and company for nothing in return. And at that time in my life, I believed him. It was only fair. Afterwards, alone in my apartment, I was confronted with the reality that the only reason anyone would ever show me compassion, love, or kindness was because I was female and therefore potential sex. At the time, I was beginning to realize I was asexual (though it would be many years before I had a word for it). It was like I had been shown that my worth, my worthiness of love and life, and all my achievements were housed in my sensuality and sexuality. And I didn’t posses either. Dark times, I tell ya. Of course, there was no chance of me seeking sympathy from any female friends or acquaintances for what took place. Years later when a man in a bar shoved his finger inside me and I smashed a beer mug over his head I was berated by my female companions for overreacting and ruining the night. Further blows to any sense of being anything other than “woman” came in the form, ironically, of my achievements. I excelled at dog handling, particularly scent detection and received many an award for it, each time being told by my male peers that the only reason I received it was because I was a woman. I took my awards with a pinch of shame, believing I had taken it from a more deserving man.

It was around this time I first dipped my toes in the shallow end of feminism. I got a Tumblr! I was about 23. The internet wasn’t too big a thing when I was growing up and I got my first social media account when I was 17, the year I moved out. Until I logged onto the blue hell site, I didn’t use the internet outside of facebook (with only my irl friends there to form an echo chamber) and looking up definitions of words. Now, for the first time, I discovered that feminism wasn’t taboo everywhere. Fascinating! Of course, the “feminism” I found was pretty much identical to the patriarchal world I lived in, just with more lipstick. But it was a step. Secret radfem blog? Shit, I had a secret libfem blog and was still terrified of being found out by people I knew. I had good reason, too. When I tried to, very tentatively, voice some opinions that were not male-approved, I was met with swift and immediate backlash. I mentioned to a male coworker that I didn’t want children, which ended with him screaming at me to go out and have a hysterectomy right now if I really didn’t want any because I was being stupid and of course I wasn’t serious otherwise I’d just rip my uterus out. Or when I voiced concern over that one politician that said women should be forced to deliver stillbirths naturally because that’s what happened on his farm and was publicly berated for being a crybaby and a little girl, freaking out over ‘one weird fluke’. Still, I grew more and more interested in feminism. I spent a year deeeep in the libbiest-of libfem glitter-choked hells until one fateful day: I saw a study that proved there was no such thing as brainsex.

My entire perception of reality was irreparably shattered. Over the course of a few days, I was forced to realize that I had been lied to my entire life. I had been lied to by my teachers and the adults in my life as a kid, I was forced to realize how deeply sexist and inappropriate the boys at schools were being, that I was taught in school to excuse male violence as not their fault, that no one ever owed anyone sex, that what my coworkers and ‘friends’ were saying was blatantly false and not ok, that I was just as capable of pursuing a scientific field as a man, to realize just how much the most important people in my life really hated me. And I was forced to confront the fact that I had backed myself into a corner, cut off any escape routes, and that I relied on the acceptance of these men for my safety and job security. That made the next few years......uncomfortable. And yet, bit by bit, little by little, I’ve pulled myself away from that world and set up a new life for myself. I’ve said goodbye to a lot of people. I’ve hurt a lot. I’ve cringed a lot. The antifeminist keyboard smashing seen on radfem posts is something I could have (and probably would have) typed myself back then, safe in the conviction that I was right.

“No one held a gun to your head and forced you to be an antifeminist” I’ve been told. That’s true, I guess. At nine, after riding my bike to the one small library in town I could have checked out a book by Dworkin (whom I’d never heard of) from the feminist section (which may or may not have existed) instead of Animorphs. I could have walked around shouting “hey, anyone want to be a feminist so I can see how it’s done?” to try and find someone to look up to. I could have, upon getting internet in my late teens, immediately googled “how to be a feminist”, but I didn’t so my bad. Certainly there were girls who grew up in similar circumstances who were always feminists, and certainly there are women who grew up with outlets for feminism that are antifeminist, but I feel my story is a much more common one and in the end at least I made it. I think most radfems have had a libfem phase and I think most of us would cringe at it, but in so many ways I’m grateful for it. Not only did it introduce me to the movement that would change my life, but it was inviting and welcoming. I cannot, and DO NOT want to imagine what would have happened if, seeking to find voice for my discomfort, I had come across radical feminism first and saw the words that were beginning to cut so deeply echoed by the women who claimed to be for women. Cocksucker. Waste of time. Stupid. Coward. Being told I ‘lapped it all up’. The thought of it really makes me uncomfortable, and I think the only message it all would have sent was “Your entire world is against you and hates you but also you wanted it and it’s your fault.”.

I see radfems speak often about non western women and how they face and view sexism. It’s quite universally accepted that non western women are acutely aware of biological sex and wouldn’t stand for this gemgender floridesexual nonsense and that’s lauded as a sort of....kinship I guess. When I see radfems speak about non western women in this way, I feel they have a sense of kinship with them, like they’re one of the radfem crowd. I wonder, however, what the women who grew up and lived in those environments would really think about everything radical feminism stands for? Surely some would agree completely, but how often do you see women in these situations agree that rape is sometimes (or always) the girl’s fault? Or that women should not be educated? Are they still our sisters, or cock sucking cowards? And is the extension of sisterhood dependent on their hypothetical ability to, if they hold these beliefs, listen to what feminists have to say and change their minds to agree? Let’s say the woman in your gifsets is presented with these resources and never changes her mind. What then? Even still I've seen it said that anti feminist women will never change so there’s no point in trying. I see libfems pointing to non western cultures with ‘other’ genders and saying ‘see? see? THEY agree with me! They’d agree with liberal feminism!’ and I see radfems pointing to non western women and saying ‘see? see? THEY agree with me! They’d agree with radical feminism!’ and I can’t help but see these cultures and women within them being pressed into an ideal of one argument or the other purely for internet posturing.

I’m very disheartened to see the movement which once seemed so academic and helpful to me seeming to become a ‘cool girls’ club. Sisterhood, compassion, and help, but only for women who think the way we do. Others are there to be mocked. It’s eerily similar to the way we laughed at the ‘other’ girls in high school, completely full of ourselves and thinking we were so much better.

When I think of anti feminist women, I see the little girl being told men were prone to violence instead of talking because that’s how they were built, I see the girl being called a whore for being raped by someone she was told to trust, and I see the women pitted against each other, who have never had a feminist role model, and the girls who harbor a strange feeling of discontent and isolation they can’t articulate. I don’t see wastes of time.

If you’re still reading, thank you.

#hooooooboy #that was long

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54fangirl · 6 years

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Out of Sight, Out of Mind (Pt. 3)

Sweet Pea X OC

Summary: Danika and her younger brother, Anthony, are abandoned by their mother. She can’t handle her daughter’s mental state anymore so she leaves the siblings with her mother back in Riverdale, both kids assuring their grandmother that she’s not coming back. Tony is a genius at only 10 and back in their hometown, he was in a promising education program, on the road to an ivy league school with a full scholarship, but in the southside? Danika just needs to keep him away from gang activity, which is hard when she herself gets a little too close.

Pairings: Sweet Pea x Female!OC

Words: 1381

Warnings: swearing, talk of suicide/drug use/alcoholism, allusions to some past trauma, (Future Warning) Mentions of and references to suicide and self-harm

A/N: O M F G I am the worst at updating. So much has been going on- too much. And everything got really out of hand and the world was kind of against me. Anyway, I’m sorry again.

Disclaimers: I own nothing but the plot and the OC’s

Part 1 | Part 2

Danika slammed the door shut when she got home.

“I can see you’re in a great mood.” Her grandmother commented, flipping through a magazine.

“What the hell did my mom tell you and what the hell did you tell the school?”

“What do you mean, darling?”

“I mean I got called into the counselor's office because ‘my grandmother stated some concerns about me’ and now everyone I know there thinks I’m a fucking nutjob.”

“You watch your tone, missy-”

“No! I don’t know what you think you know but I assure you it’s wrong!”

“Really? So you didn’t try to end your life? You didn’t stay in the hospital for over two months because they were concerned you’d try and do it again? None of that happened? How about the drugs? The drinking? Was that fake too?” Her mom really went all out to ensure her grandmother didn’t trust her.

“You don’t know the whole story-”

“I don’t need to! Your mother told me to keep you safe! I will do that, no matter what! You are the most important thing, I’m sorry if you feel wronged but you are everything in this situation-”

“I’m not going to have any friends because of this! I need friends to feel sane for christ sake-”

“Watch it! You’re on thin ice young lady!”

Danika wanted to scream and rip her hair out, she wanted to go back. She wanted to destroy everything she worked so hard to achieve.

“There’s going to be some changes in your life and you’re just going to have to deal with them.”

At this point, not even her pills could give her the energy to deal with this argument so she nodded for her grandmother to continue.

“For starters, you’re going to start coming to church with me and Abuelo on Sundays.” Danika only nodded, “I gave you the summer to adjust to living here but now you’re going back to your routine which means therapy.”

“Abuela! No!”

“I’m not arguing about it, you’re going. It’s a group at the hospitals that meets Sundays, Mondays, and Wednesdays.”

“So I have to go to church and group therapy every Sunday?”

“Yup. And you’re not getting out of it. You also have private sessions on Thursdays.”

“So I won’t be having a social life at all then?”

“Did you really expect one?”

No, but she didn’t need to know that.

“You’re also not allowed to date and you will stay away from any and all gangs.” That one was going to be hard considering that the only people she went to school with were gang members and she was pretty sure one of them had a crush on her.

Her grandmother continued listing off rules that just brought her down, they only stopped because Abuelo was home and with him was Anthony.

“Antonio, my boy, how was school?” Maya squished his face together.

“Good, boring though. My teacher wouldn’t let me do my Algebra at recess, she took my book and said I should go play with the other kids.”

“You should, Tony. Make some friends, algebra is not as exciting as you think.” Danika told her brother.

“But I already finished the medical textbook, I wanna learn math.”

“You can do math instead of watching cartoons then, but you need to interact with kids your own age so you don’t dissociate yourself from the population, get it?” He hated it when she talked to him like he was ten, so she tried to use bigger words so he could expand his vocabulary as they had regular conversations.

“Fine, I suppose that makes sense.”

“Good, now go get started on your homework and you can read mine with me.”

He ran upstairs happily, followed by their grandfather. Abuela looked back at Danika.

“He’s smart, so I know he knows something but I know he doesn’t know everything because I know you. And you may treat him like your peer but he’s still your baby brother.”

“He knows I went to the hospital for a while because mom told him I was sick. That’s why he had the medical textbooks. He wanted to fix me when she said the doctors couldn’t.”

It broke her heart everytime he visted her and told her he found something new in his book. After a while their mom stopped bringing him, per her doctors orders it wasn’t helping her recovery to lie to him.

xxx

The next day at school, Sweet Pea intercepted her before she saw anyone else.

“So, what the hell happened yesterday?”

“What do you mean?” She kept her head down, not trying to break her grandmothers rules less than twenty-four hours after she’d given them.

“I mean Toni said you left class and she didn’t see you for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, the office had some issues with my paperwork from my old school and I guess I just don’t have any other classes with her.” She lied easily.

“No, but you do have two more with me at the end of the day...” He said with a slight smirk.

“Oh, I uh left a little early. I needed to check on my brother.” She lied again.

“Ah, yes, the little medical expert.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s like an actual genius- reads the textbooks for fun.”

“Huh, he seems kinda young.”

“Yeah, he’s only ten.”

“Christ, I’m pretty sure at ten I was just annoying the girls on the playground.”

She let out and awkward laugh, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

The two continued to their first shared class but said no more words. When the bell rang Danika ran out of the class before he could even call after her.

Going through her normal day, turns out every class that she didn’t share with Sweet Pea, she shared with either Fangs or Toni.

xxx

Three weeks had passed. Therapy was boring as it always, chruch made her want to die on a whole new level, and group was just a bunch of other teens who didn’t want to be there, same as her.

Three weeks passed and every other day Toni invited her to hang out, maybe she found someone who didn’t think she was crazy. Or someone who just didn’t care.

It was Monday night of the fourth week that her brother finally spoke up.

“You’re never home but you never talk about hanaging out with your friends.”

“Uh, yeah I don’t really have friends.” Her grandparents looked up at her from their dinners.

“If I have to make friends, why don’t you?”

“Um...”

“I find it hard to believe that you haven’t made a single friend since you showed up,” Abuelo speaks.

Danika coughs, “Um, actually there’s this girl- she’s in a bunch of my classes, she wanted to hang out after school tomorrow.”

Everyone’s eyes widened.

“And you said you had no friends. If you had no friends, then who would ask you to hang out. Of course you can go! Just be home by a reasonable time.” Her grandmother spoke quickly, not letting anyone say anything to contradict her. She changed the subject quick too.

The next day when Toni asked if she wanted to come over, she agreed.

“Wait- really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve said no for like a month straight, why now?”

“Uh, I don’t know. My grandma is still not used to teenagers so she was being pretty strict about me going places.”

“Oh, well cool. We need to stop by my work before we go to my place but after that we’ll have fun.”

“Okay, sounds great, I’ll meet you...”

“By my bike. Sweet Pea can show you.”

Sweet Pea. She hadn’t wanted to, but they became so close so fast. She wanted him to know eveything about her and she wanted to know everything about him. But they weren’t close to that yet.

She wanted him to be everything to her, but knew that wasn’t a smart move. It wouldn’t only break several of her grandmothers rules, but a few of her own as well. Number one being, don’t let anyone get close enough to push her over the edge again. He was right on the border of that and it was an unsettling feeling, one she hadn’t felt in a long time.

#sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea #fangs fogarty #toni topaz #OC: Danika Ruiz #OC #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fandom #riverdale imagines #southside serpents #OOSOOM #sorry #unedited

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Germany's third gender law is celebrated as a revolution. But some say it's just the first step

https://www.cnn.com/2018/12/29/health/third-gender-law-germany-grm-intl/index.html

Germany's third gender law is celebrated as a revolution. But some say it's just the first step

By Nadine Schmidt and Kara Fox, CNN | Dec 29, 2018 | Posted December 29, 2018 |

Berlin (CNN) - By the time Lynn D. turned 2, he had already undergone seven surgeries. His childhood memories -- in the German states of Bavaria and Hesse -- were shaped by monthly visits to the doctor, where he says up to 50 researchers would observe examinations of his naked body.

When he reached puberty, Lynn was given growth blockers and high doses of hormones; as a teenager, he started self-harming, developed post-traumatic stress disorder and became suicidal.

Lynn, 34 -- who has asked CNN to identify him by his preferred name -- was born with both male and female sex organs. His doctors and parents decided shortly after he was born that his sex would be female, so his penis and testicles were surgically removed. His ovaries were also removed.

Doctors had told Lynn's parents the surgeries were preventative, citing concerns that he could develop cancer, but Lynn says there was no medical reason for him to be operated on and that the surgeries were carried out with a "dubious motivation."

"The doctors advised my parents not to tell me about my sex and simply raise me as a girl," Lynn told CNN. "And of course, it didn't work -- because I'm not a girl."

Lynn is intersex, an umbrella term used to describe a variety of conditions in which a person is born with reproductive or sexual anatomy that does not fit into binary definitions of female or male.

"I was labeled a girl; I wanted to be a girl and fit in -- but it did not work. I got along better with boys so I thought, 'I'm a boy'. But then I realized that I'm not a boy either ... boys also started to marginalize me. I did not have a good connection with my body and nobody helped me to establish a good connection with my body," Lynn said.

Lynn only learned that he was intersex during a therapy session at the age of 20. It was a revelation for Lynn, who had struggled to fit in with his peers for so many years.

While it helped him to move forward with his relationship with his own body, Lynn says it damaged his relationship with his parents.

"My body was changed so much to fit in -- whether it happened consciously or unconsciously. The whole experience broke my relationship with my parents. We still have not gotten over this yet," Lynn said.

When he first learned he was intersex, Lynn said, "it felt like as if someone said I am an alien, you are from someplace else. You are a mutant."

"It took me a while to come to terms with my diagnosis and for me to (come to) grips with it. But then I understood -- everything made sense to me. I no longer felt restless. Suddenly I understood who I was."

More than a decade later, Lynn said he has evolved into an "enormously happy" person, someone who is in a loving relationship with a woman, and who is fulfilled by a career in engineering and gigging in a punk band.

While Lynn said he accepts being called "him" for now, he wishes that there was a specific German pronoun to describe intersex people, and hopes that society will one day understand what it means to live outside of binary definitions of sex and gender -- and to accept intersex people for who they are.

A change to the German constitution could be the first step toward that recognition.

On January 1, Germany will become the first country in the European Union to offer a "third gender" option on birth certificates.

Intersex people -- and parents of intersex babies -- will be able to register as "divers," or miscellaneous, on birth certificates, instead of having to choose between male or female.

The law, passed in Germany's Bundestag earlier this month, was hailed as a "small revolution" by some intersex activists. It came after a 2017 constitutional court ruled in favor of an intersex person's right to change their birth certificate from female to "divers."

The court ruled that Vanja -- an intersex person who goes by a one-name pseudonym and uses the gender-neutral pronouns "they" and "them" -- had their "right to positive gender recognition" violated and found that the current law was unconstitutional.

Vanja, whose case was supported by advocacy group, "Dritte Option" or, the Third Option, told CNN that having to decide between being a woman or a man on official documents left them feeling "left out and overlooked."

While Vanja's official identification documents said they were female, this led to "a lot of irritations with people" because they presented -- or physically appeared in society -- as male.

Vanja initially considered changing their documents to male, but eventually decided that decision would devalue their identity, which is intersex.

"I thought to myself, if I am going at lengths to change something within the red tape system in Germany, I want to have something that suits me," they said.

Vanja plans to celebrate the new law by changing their birth certificate category to "divers" in the new year, calling it both a personal and a practical step.

"I asked myself so many times what it means to be intersex; I often was upset when I had to decide which box to tick -- male or female. I felt (like I was) being pushed into the corner, that I had to adjust non-voluntarily. I think it will give me a new feeling of peace," Vanja said, adding that they hope other countries in Europe will follow suit.

But, like many in the intersex community, Vanja believes the law is just a stepping stone.

"Societal acceptance cannot be mandated by a court ruling, but it is a step in the right direction," Vanja said.

Lynn agrees. While he also plans to register as intersex -- and to officially change his name to Lynn -- he said there are still many steps that need to be taken for intersex people to be "fully integrated into society."

Still, he is hopeful the new law will help to bring attention to the medical treatment of intersex people and open conversations for change.

'RITUALIZED , SEXUALIZED VIOLENCE '

Infants born with visible variations in their sexual characteristics, like Lynn, often undergo painful and irreversible surgery to give them the appearance of a conventional male or female gender, according to an Amnesty International report published last year.

The surgeries stem from a theory popularized in the United States in the 1960s by the psychologist John Money, who believed that an intersex person's make-up was a product of abnormal processes. Money believed that intersex people ought to become either male or female and as a result, were in need of medical treatment.

Although that theory is no longer widely accepted in the medical community, its "echoes can still be found within the medical establishment today," according to the Amnesty report, citing interviews with medical professionals across Denmark, Germany and the UK.

Those surgeries stripped Lynn of his bodily autonomy and left him with painful scars.

"When they (doctors and parents) talked about my body, I had to go out and leave the room. In hindsight, it was a practice I would now compare with a ritualized, sexualized violence. It was massively traumatizing," Lynn says of his childhood visits to the doctor.

A group of United Nations and international human rights experts called for "an urgent end to human rights violations against intersex children and adults" in 2016, calling on governments to ban harmful medical practices and protect intersex people from discrimination.

Between 0.5% and 1.7% of the global population are born with intersex traits, and are at risk of human rights violations that include surgery, discrimination and torture, according to the UN.

In July, a group of European medical experts published a set of new guidelines that urge doctors to defer medically unnecessary surgeries on intersex children until they are old enough to consent. The European consensus said: "For sensitive and/or irreversible procedures, such as genital surgery, we advise that the intervention be postponed until the individual is old enough to be actively involved in the decision whenever possible."

Grietje Baars, a senior lecturer at The City Law School in London, told CNN that while the new law demonstrates a "greater recognition of life beyond the binary," the "third gender" option doesn't go far enough to fully recognize gender diversity.

Under the new law, people wanting to change their birth certificate to read "divers" will only be able to do so with a medical certificate to prove it.

Baars -- who also goes by the gender-neutral pronouns, "they" and "them" -- says that requirement could subject intersex people, who often have a history of "traumatic medical interference with their genitalia" to additional trauma. Plus, Baars says, the medical requirement reinforces an antiquated definition of gender based solely on biology.

"You can not simply decide gender by looking at people's genitalia," they said, adding that it might be time to remove gender from official documents altogether. While Baars understands that this might sound radical, they argue that "abolishing gender registration does not mean abolishing gender as such."

"It's like abolishing registering your religion or race on your ID or documents -- it does not mean you can no longer be Catholic or black ... those things are not the same. I am just saying that it is no business of the state to register and categorize people in that manner," they said.

CHALLENGING SOCIAL NORMS

Although German law has allowed parents to leave the gender box blank on birth certificates since 2013 -- and this will still be an option under the new legislation -- some experts say parents will still be inclined to choose a more traditional approach, noting that in the two years after the blank box option came into effect, only 12 children were registered without a sex marker in the birth registry.

Anike Krämer, a Ph.D. candidate in gender studies at Germany's Ruhr-University Bochum, told CNN that she believes that parents of intersex children will have "difficulties" with the choices presented with the new law.

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