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chayacat · 1 year

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Road96: Shandara’s Land (2)

Fandom: Road96

Rated M for Language and Violence.

***

A terrible silence descended on the square. On the entire Mont National even. people looked in horror at Tyrak standing in front of Flores, a big smile on his face, arrogant as ever. At his side, Merlina Yung, also smiling, standing straight. Flores remained impassive; she mustn't show the slightest weakness. But deep down she was worried, very worried about what Tyrak was going to do.

“Tyrak... How... How did you manage to get out? Security had been tightened!” said Flores calmly.

“Well. You will have to review your security service. It deserves some upgrades.” responds Tyrak, ironically.

“You’re not welcome here.”

“Oh Lupe. I believed that today was a day when everyone could be reunited, criminal or not. In the meantime, thank you for keeping my place warm. If you don't mind, I'll take it back.”

“Certainly not! Security!"

“If I were you, Miss Flores, I would think twice before acting.” Said Merlina with a smile before snapping her fingers.

Suddenly, some kind of soldiers surrounded the area, weapons in hand. By reflex, Stan and Mitch put Sonya between them, to protect her. Adam covered her back. John hugged Fanny, who hugged Alex. Jarod put a hand on the grip of his weapon, ready to draw. Anna stared at Merlina, a drop of sweat beading on her forehead. Two soldiers arrived behind Flores and without warning, made her fall to her knees pointing their weapons at her.

“I hope you enjoyed your little moment of glory. Because now you will know behind the scenes. Mr Tyrak...the stage is yours.” said Merlina.

“Thank you.” said Tyrak before looking at the public. “Dear Petrians, you disappoint me. I thought we would be a country united against Flores' democratic propaganda, but obviously you are weaker than I would have imagined. But that will change. I will take my place again and thanks to me, Petria will become a great Nation again! But first, our country will have to get rid of its enemies. Of its traitors.”

He looked at Merlina who, with a big smile, pulled out a remote control and pressed a button. three small flying robots arrived, two carried a kind of projection screen and placed themselves between Tyrak and Merlina. The third stood in front and turned on like a spotlight.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are the traitors of the Nation!” said Merlina theatrically.

The screen then displayed, thanks to two other robots, the faces of the "criminals". the two little robots showed Sonya and Adam, as well as Fanny and John. Stan took his brother's crowbar and hit the robot while Mitch hugged his sister tighter, scanning the surroundings to make sure no one was approaching.

“Daggnabit...My sister is NOT a criminal!” say Stan toward the platform.

“Oh, she is. By filming the revolt on election day, she was guilty of high treason against her president. And you will join her, since you protect her. The same goes for you, Campbell. By not arresting this criminal, by putting yourself in a relationship WITH this criminal and his kid, you are therefore an accomplice of the Black Brigade. As the new President, I, Tyrak, decide that Sonya Sanchez and her two idiots, as well as Agent Campbell and his family, are sentenced... to death. And to all those who will not submit to my authority, it is the pit that awaits you!"

With a nod from Merlina, the soldiers prepared to shoot. That's when she saw Anna in the crowd. A big smile appeared on her lips.

“Well, well, Wheatherlaw... It's a small world. Catch the fugitives. Dead or Alive. And take the opportunity to catch Wheatherlaw, alive. That's an order. As for civilians, you heard Tyrak.” said Merlina in a talkie-walkie connected to the small Headsets that the soldiers possessed.

“Yes Madam!” Scream all the soldiers before rushing towards the crowd, causing general panic among them.

People started running to leave. But some were captured and handcuffed by Merlina's soldiers, others were injured by the bullets that were firing. Stan's group was running at full speed so they could hide Sonya as quickly as possible. Stan used his shotgun to shoot those who got too close, Mitch hit them with his crowbar.

“Come on, come on! We have to get out of here quickly!” said Stan, shouting at the soldiers, before avoiding a bullet. “Daggnabit!”

“Stan! We're not going to be able to beat them all!” shouts Mitch.

“Come on Sonya, we have to take you as far as possible.” said Adam taking her by the arm.

On the side of John's group, he and Fanny knocked out the soldiers and helped as many people as possible to escape. they had to reach Mr. Grizzly, John's truck. Alex run as best he could.

“Stay close to us Alex! John, I don’t see Mr Grizzly!” said Fanny.

“... Over here! Look!” shout John, pointing at the truck. “Come on! We have to go!”

“Wait! We can’t let Sonya Sanchez and all here...” said Alex, looking at his parents.

John and Fanny looked at each other for a moment, and with a nod of their heads, they nodded.

“First we reach the truck, then we go looking for them and then we get out of here.” said John.

On Anna's side, things were more complex. She was all alone, no one could protect her. So, she hid under the counters of the stands, without making any noise and tried to think of a solution. But while she was lost in thought, a hand suddenly comes to rest on her mouth, muffling her screams so as not to alert people. She trembled and tried to free herself with all her might, but the person holding her had a stronger grip. The latter made her turn slowly and although she was relieved to see that it was not Yung’s soldier who had found her, the person in front of her didn’t seem at first the most sympathetic. The man pulled on his cigarette while holding his gun firmly.

“Shhhhh. Don’t make any sound. Or else...those guys will catch you.” said the man before taking his hand out of Anna's mouth slowly. “They are after you it seems. Do you know them?”

“In a way, yes. It's a bit complicated to explain. Please, they must not find me.” responds Anna.

“Don't worry. I didn't intend to let them catch you. We have to leave this place. Stay close to me. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks...I'm Anna.”

“...You can call me Jarod.” replied Jarod before getting up and shouting at a soldier who was close to them. “Come on. Follow me.”

“Quite extreme...let’s go.”

The soldiers put the prisoners in their vehicles, some large transport trucks. Among the prisoners, Flores and his prime minister, as well as the police forces present at the scene and some journalists.

“You’re gonna pay for it.” said Flores to Merlina.

“That’s what everyone said when they saw me. Enjoy your vacation in prison.” responds Merlina before closing the gate of the truck. “All we have left are your little fugitives.”

“They should already be in these trucks to go to the iron pit. Your men are slow.” Said Tyrak.

“Patience is the key, Tyrak. Patience is the key.”

The situation was escalating for Stan's group. Yung's soldiers surrounded Sonya's limousine, their only way to escape. If only the two brothers had come with their motorcycle...They were hidden a little further away and were trying to think of a plan.

“What do we do now? They’re everywhere!” said Sonya.

“I don’t know. But we can forget the limo. We have to find another way out." Said Stan.

“Maybe we can try to hide in a truck...” said Adam.

“Bad idea. They’ll surely search in every truck, car and others to find us.” responds Mitch.

Suddenly they felt that something was behind them, when they turned around, soldiers were pointing their weapons at them. As the click was heard, the sound of a truck was heard. Without warning, a truck drove into the soldiers, forcing them to run away. The side door opened, and Fanny beckoned to them.

“Get in! Now!” she said.

“Thanks. You saved us.” said Mitch, helping Sonya to get in the truck.

“You’re welcome.”

“Hey!!!!” said suddenly a woman voice.

“...Anna?!” said Stan happy to see her. But his happiness disappeared when he sees Jarod behind her. He pointed his shotgun at them "Anna! Move! Stay away from this guy!”

“What?”

“I said MOVE.”

“Stan...” said Sonya.

“I knew you was there...i will not let you kill Sonya. You don’t come with us.” replied Stan, ready to shoot at Jarod.

“What?? Stan no! He won’t do anything! He’s with me! He...he saved me. Please...” Said Anna.

“No way I let him in.”

“Stan...We don’t have time for this, we’re all in danger.” said Mitch.

“...Fine! He can come. But stay away from Sonya. Or else...” replied Stan without lowering his weapon.

“Fine by me.” responds simply Jarod.

But as everyone boarded the truck, soldiers arrived. Adam, who was not yet on board, turned to Sonya, seeming to think, stepped back and began to close the doors.

“Adam!!!” said Sonya trying to reach him but was held by Mitch.

“Go. Take Sonya to safety. I will retain them.” Said Adam turning his back to them.

“ADAM NO!”

“Go! Don’t worry for me! They won't kill me. They will put me in jail. The most important is that you are fine. Love you, Sonya.” replied Adam before closing the door.

Adam motioned for John to leave, and despite Sonya's screams, he complied and walked away. Adam faced the soldiers and surrendered. He understood that fighting would kill him, but he didn't care, at least Sonya was alive. He was arrested and taken away in front of Sonya who could see everything from the truck, which continued to move away. She was screaming, but her brother was holding her back. the truck left the scene, escaping Merlina Yung and Tyrak. Now the goal for them was to take shelter.

But in a country that is now once again under dictatorship, where could they hide?

***

(In less than a month, the prequel comes out. I can't wait so much to discover this day! in the meantime I play Hogwarts Legacy and One Piece Odyssey just to pass the time! I hope you’ll like it like the other ones! Feel free to tell me what you think about it! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

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gar-trek · 3 years

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Sometimes i be looking at other peoples interests like “ugh that’s so cringe how could you like that,” ...... GIRL YOU SHIP SPIRK IN 2021 GET OFF THE FUCKIN HIGH HORSE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#not saying that spirk is cringe #i just like it a cringe amount #and i probably hate like every other piece of media that exists rn #i dont even care #literally what do other people watch rn #is there fandoms for active shows ??#like what is happening out there #we have given up #do you think fandom is over #is that why everyone is so mad about polotics #like since the superwholock fandom died #everyone had to join the democrat fandom #or republican fandom #also yes i spelled it polotics it didn't auto correct #that was a genuin attempt

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marveltrumpshate · 4 years

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“Higher, faster, further, baby.”

As we said in our closing message at the end of this year’s auction, that was our mantra coming into MTH 2019, and we certainly carried it off with your help.

Last year, we had 236 creators and 354 auctions… This year, we zipped past that with a tremendous turnout that went beyond our expectations: 324 "Marvel"-ous creators came forward to offer 522 auctions.

Last year, we raised $19,262.52, a mindblowing number we’re still trying to wrap our heads around… This year, we’re excited to announce that together, we raised:

That’s about $8,000 more than the MTH 2018 total 😮💖🎉

We’re going to channel Luke Cage here and exclaim, “SWEET CHRISTMAS!”

Considering just how successful MTH was in its inaugural year, we were unsure whether we could get close to those numbers again, let alone top them. Suffice to say, we were blown away at every single step, from creator registration all the way to donation processing.

We told ourselves we would be happy with any amount, especially if we miraculously matched our total last year, so we were shocked speechless when we hit it days before the auction ended. Then the total kept growing, with no sign of stopping or slowing down, as the donations kept pouring in. Surely it would stop at 20k? 22k?! A few of us, emboldened by the “higher, faster, further” theme this year, dared to wish for the impossible: 25k. We all knocked on wood and referred to this figure in vague terms (“the number we won’t mention,” “the number that must not be named,” etc.).

It was a remarkable experience, and we often found ourselves at a loss for words (we had to resort to heart emojis, keyboard bashing, and exclamation points many a time in our mod chat). We’ve been impatient to share the results with you, not just because of how incredible the final count is but because of how we got there. Each and every one of you was instrumental to our success, and we appreciate your contributions so very much.

Creators, we couldn't have started this auction without you all. We loved seeing so many of last year’s creators sign up again and were pleasantly surprised by how many new faces showed up to the party.

Bidders, as crazy as it sounds, most of the donations were small ones. It just goes to show how much of an impact you can have when you’re part of something bigger than yourself. Each donation has a ripple effect, and with enough ripples, that can cause a wave. You matter, and you can make a difference.

We also owe our success to our wonderful signal boosters. There can’t be an auction without any participants, and thanks to everyone spreading our posts around and encouraging their fandom friends to sign up and/or bid, we reached hundreds of incredible creators and bidders.

Thank you all. We’re so touched by the massive number of people who donated above and beyond their pledged amount, creators who took on multiple auctions and offered up multiple winner slots, and bidders who accepted their second-place wins with such eagerness! We also had people make donations in the spirit of MTH even though they didn’t win an auction, which was beyond generous.

We’ve already seen how our donations are changing the world for the better. To name a few examples:

Your donations to Rainbow Railroad had the double their impact as donations to the organization will be matched from November 1 until December 31.

Flippable helped turn the deep red Virginia into blue this election for the first time in 26 years, an extremely important victory for the Democrats that will have tremendous influence on how things may go in the U.S.A.

The National Women's Law Center won its lawsuit against the Trump administration regarding personal beliefs dictating patient care.

Not to mention that our good deeds haven’t gone unnoticed thanks to bidders who gave us a shoutout this year. The president of RAINN knows about MTH and gave one of our winners a personal thank you for participating and helping raise money for their organization, and BBRF somehow found out about us and emailed us personally as well.

We’re sure that in the months and years to come, we’ll see even more wonderful results.

In addition to the astounding amount of money we were able to raise for charity, MTH was successful in other ways. We strove to be as inclusive as possible, determined to make this event a fandom-wide effort. Considering that the auctions covered over 400 platonic and romantic relationships (if we include "all ships/gen"-inclusive relationships, this number is even higher) across 29 universes within the Marvel multiverse, up from 242 and 19, respectively), we can safely say that we accomplished our goal.

This spirit of inclusion also applies to our charities. Every one of our 30 supported charities received donations. We’re in awe of your commitment to supporting all our creators and charities and thrilled that you spread all the love around, bidders!

Here’s our breakdown of the donations (click to enlarge the image):

We’ve also listed the amount raised per charity on our List of Organizations page.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for helping us turn our second Marvel Trumps Hate auction into such an incredible experience. We cherish every single message of love and support that we received and continue to receive on our Discord server and through DMs, Tumblr messages, emails, tweets, etc. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

If you'd like to keep up-to-date with all of the 2019 Marvel Trumps Hate fills, follow us and/or check out the "mth 2019" tag on our Tumblr. You’ll also be able to find works posted on AO3 in our Marvel Trumps Hate 2019 collection and links to fills in our Discord server, which you can join to brainstorm prompts, chat about fills, and find out about other fandom events.

Thank you once again to everyone who volunteered their services, time, money, and platforms to spread the word.

We can’t wait to see all of your fanworks over the coming year!

Lots of love and gratitude, Your 2019 MTH mods

#mth 2019 #marvel trumps hate #announcement

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claraxbarton · 5 years

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MCU Bucky Barnes

So here’s the thing.

I’m a costume designer by trade, and one thing that I actually really love about Captain America: The Winter Soldier (okay, among the things I love) is the costume design and the rhetorical value given to the clothes and, well, costumes in this movie.

For example - when Sam and Steve have their heart to heart on the bridge that ends with Sam saying “but he doesn’t even know you” and Steve saying “he will” before going to steal his old uniform - the one Bucky last saw him in when he was Bucky. There are some other great costume points in this movie, actually a LOT of them (costumes, not wigs, don’t at me because I KNOW).

But one thing that has always stood out to me, and not in a good way, is the “I’m with you til the end of the line” flashback.

Now, here’s the thing, it’s not JUST about the clothes. We’re in MCU verse, so it’s MCU canon - obviously, the Steve and Bucky duo is drastically different in Marvel comics canon so - and Bucky starts this scene by saying his folks wanted to give Steve a ride to the cemetery.

Which is super cool and nice. So one, we know Bucky’s dad is still alive - and his mom, but two, we know they have a car.

So this is supposed to be when Steve is around 16? So it’s... 1936 (according to MCU wiki it totally is)

So cars.

Crazy popular ever since they started having closed bodies and all that. BUT, were they crazy popular in CITIES in 1936? Especially in the middle of the Great Depression?

There’s some evidence that actually no, that car ownership in a city like NYC was something like 1 car per every 43 people. Then again, looking at the NYC.gov 2015 Mobility Report we see that the population of NYC in 1936 is something like 7.2 million, and the number of registered vehicles in 764,000... or roughly one per every 9.4-ish persons. Which is a pretty drastically different number. This doesn't, of course, account for taxis or fleet cars being registered - so the number might seem inflated. I still think it’s probably something closer to 1 car per every 20 than every 43 but... I’m too lazy to dig that much deeper at the moment. Plus I'm sick, which is fueling this in the first place.

So, anyway you slice it, Bucky’s family was in 11%, 5% or 2.33% of New Yorkers who own cars in 1936. Which says something, I think, about Bucky Barnes that we don’t always - ever? - think of in fandom.

I’m not going to say that Bucky Barnes was loaded. Maybe his family owned a garage or a grocery store or a delivery service or a funeral home...?? or something. So, the vehicle could be occupational as opposed to private usage - but either way it’s a statement. Bucky’s family has money and/or Bucky’s family has steady employment.

I’ve been there. I’ve read the fics where Bucky works at the docks to put Steve through art school and get him his medicine. I love those fics. I love that head canon.

But I... don’t think it’s realistic in light of some evidence showing us that, actually, Bucky wasn’t doing too badly for himself.

Let’s now actually look at CLOTHING. Here’s the whole scene via youtube, if you want to follow along with what is about to get RIDICULOUS.

Actually, before I dive in, who is the costumer for this movie? And should I be like... reading into all this as much as I am?

Judianna Makovsky - fellow New Jersey..Ian?ite?no clue - 3 time Oscar nominee and designer of 5 MCU films and a lot of other big budget movies, including quite a few period pieces dealing with issues of race and class (The Legend of Bagger Vance, Seabiscuit, The Little Princess.. and also like Harry Potter and The Quick and the The Dead.) So, should I have some faith in Judianna Makovsky’s designs? I’m gonna go with yeah, yeah I should.

So, back to the movie. The scene.

This is post funeral. We’re in 1936. As a general rule, the dress, colors and style of mourning wear was pretty much formalized in the early Victorian era. There was a great - read PHENOMENAL - exhibit at the MET a few years back on Mourning-wear and I’m still reeling from how lovely everything was - but the gist of it is this: you wore black when someone died. If you were a lady, and especially if you were a rich lady, you then went through a few different colors (dull black to SHINY black to purple/mauve and gray and white and then back to color within six months to one year). By the 1930s only the really rich were sticking to the actual rules of mourning - or like, really old people. And, of course, really old rich people. Really old rich WHITE people. Because it needs to be said: these are WHITE customs. I'm not saying people of other ethnicities didn’t follow them, but these are basically British Victorian practices that were assimilated into American culture.

I’m not going to go off on a huge sidebar about American fashion following in French dressmaking and British tailoring, but I need to say at least that much. Everyone who was anyone knew you got your dresses made in France or in the French style and you got your suits made in England - Savile Row in specific. I am NOT implying Bucky’s got himself an English suit, fyi. I just... have to be thorough.

BACK TO THE SCENE:

We’ve got our boy Steve. STEVE. Who just buried Sarah Rogers and what is he wearing...?

For starters, he’s wearing a windbreaker, check out the 1933 ad below, he’s the guy almost giving us the Fonz finger gesture, or maybe guy in the fedora on the end.

This thing isn’t falling apart at the seams, but it’s a very nondescript not really gray, not really blue - maybe was at one point. It also doesn’t FIT Steve. It also, in the ad above, would cost about $165.40 in today’s money.

My guess? It’s Bucky’s old windbreaker. Because it’s not cheap and because it’s just a bit too big on Steve.

He’s also wearing a shirt that is maybe tan? And a brown tie and maybe - MAYBE black trousers. And if those trousers are black, it’s the only black thing he’s wearing. Not even a black tie, or a black arm band (which I’m pretty sure - but also pretty aggressively atheist so I don’t know - the Catholic Church would have provided for chief mourners and pall bearers right?). We also have our depressing as all shit Depression surroundings to clue us in: Steve Rogers ain’t loaded. Steve Rogers is poor as dirt. Side note: boys. Hiding a key under the ONE FUCKING BRICK on a walkway is not like... a smart idea???

So we can guess a few things here, we can guess that Steve and Sarah were really struggling - this checks out with the rest of MCU canon (wearing newspapers stuffed in his shoes, even when he had nothing he had Bucky, etc.) - and that all money probably went towards Steve’s numerous ailments, food and then the TB medication or treatment, as it was, that was available to Sarah.

We can maybe guess that Steve and Sarah weren’t very religious -but I don’t feel qualified to impart anything except my own agenda here so I’m not taking that stance. But like, real talk, not even an arm band??

But, well, let’s move on to the point of this whole long ass thing anyway?

Then we go to Mr. Barnes, looking dapper AF. Also, hey, check out this ad from 1933 featuring... pretty much exactly what Bucky is wearing down to the god-damn two-tone shoes:

If you’re curious, yeah $24.98 in 1936 is $475.44. I'm not suggesting Bucky Barnes went out and bought a brand new suit for Steve’s mother’s funeral - for one thing, this ad is from 1933. BUT, that suit fits Bucky. Quite well, and it’s in good shape. He’s also sporting that super stylish mid-late 30s into 40s deeply angled collar shirt - as is our dude up in the ad - and so we know these clothes are at least new-ish. We also can see that the suit is definitely of the mid-30s moving into the boxy silhouette of the later 30s and early 40s and NOT the look of the 20s and early 30s, which has an almost bell-bottom fullness to the legs instead of our straight-leg here (though we can debate nuance if you want to hit up my DMs.)

I should note, Bucky’s shirt is not bright and pristine white - it’s kind of grayish? And I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be an old-timey sepia thing or an indication that Bucky can’t afford to... bleach a white shirt? So that’s an odd choice for sure because we’re still in an age when a crisp, white collar shirt means something (Hey, if you want to hear me go on about the democratization of men’s fashion via shirt collars and 19th century Victorian suits, let me know because I am READY).

All this is to say: I don’t think Bucky Barnes is a poor dock worker. I think Bucky Barnes of MCU canon. Okay, so the MCU wiki on Bucky/The Winter Soldier is an actual mess (because it tells us that Sarah died in 1936 and that’s FINE but I’m not going back to change my math because I’m SICK so just... I went back and changed it. She died in 1936. Fine. The damn wiki also says that “a year later, during their art class, Barnes and Rogers found out that the United States of America had joined World War II. Which, like, I’m sick, but there are a few years between 1936 and December 8 1941... just... I’m no rocket doctor but...

ANYWAY. Bucky is a three time YMCA welterweight boxing champion by this “year later”/ 1941-1942. He and Steve are also in an ART CLASS together. Bucky also trained Steve in boxing at Goldie’s gym before the two of them went to enlist - Steve rejected and Bucky, again quoting MCU wiki, “drafted” (which I'm gonna take to mean he didn’t try to enlist when Steve got rejected, they went home and Bucky got called up later but... hey, who knows?!).

So, I can’t easily find the prices of gym memberships in NYC in the 1930s right now because I don’t feel like wading through all of the articles complaining about Equinox pricing in 2019. But I do know that part of Roosevelt’s WPA (Works Progress Administration) building projects included building more public gyms - as well as libraries, auditoriums, pools, parks etc. Check out your local public buildings - if they are WPA projects they will have a cool plaque like my local NJ library does! All that is to say, there were free or very cheap PUBLIC options where Bucky could have trained Steve.

Bucky trained Steve in a private gym. Do I like to think that this is the same gym Steve and America’s ass are working out in in The Avengers? Yes, Yes I do. Do I like to think that Steve likes to box because it reminds him of Bucky? Yes, yes I do.

But moving on: it’s another sign of wealth.

So is this “art class.” Whether we are in 1937 or 1941 - we’re still in the Depression. Steve still has all of his health issues and presumably accompanying “medication” (wanna talk 1930s medicine? Again, slide into my DMs or shoot me an ask). So Steve either has a side job making enough to cover all of that, rent? and enrollment in an art class.

OR maybe Steve is teaching the art class and Bucky is his model for life drawing instruction (yeah, it’s a fic bunny I’m sharing with the world).

OR maybe... Bucky is paying the rent and other things or Steve is living with Bucky and can afford the class and meds... somehow or...

OR I'm not saying that Steve is Bucky’s kept man because Steve Rogers would punch anyone who dared to say such a thing.

All I’m saying is, Bucky Barnes was not a poor dude. Bucky Barnes... had some money.

And also I’m about to be late for my doctor’s appointment so I gotta run.

At me with your thoughts!

#Bucky barnes #James Buchanan barnes #winter soldier #Steve rogers #captain america #marvel #mcu #meta #head-canon #costume design #character thoughts

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spockismyspermdonor · 4 years

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A Love Letter to Tumblr

My Dearest Tumblr-

Some may scoff at the mention of your name, others may think you are downright awful, and still others won’t understand why you exist. They obviously don’t know what they’re missing. As soon as I found you, I knew that I could be exactly who I wanted to be, identified in whatever way I wanted. I was so young and in need of your guidance, so you swept me into your arms of acceptance. For the past 8 years, you’ve given me a path for self-discovery.

When I was 13, I joined your beautiful community to peruse Marvel fans’ blogs (Avengers had just been released). The universe that Marvel was building with their movies was enticing. The excitement got my imagination flowing and I wanted so much more content.

Through you, I could connect with the thousands of Marvel fans like me to share, create, joke, critique, and theorize about the characters we enjoy so much. But your fandoms go so far beyond mainstream pop culture movies. You are a destination for discussion on nearly every TV show and film I love. I’ve been sure to take advantage of that. You expanded my world.

Some of my favorite Marvel blogs:

https://marveladdicts.tumblr.com

https://mcufam.tumblr.com/

https://womenofmcu.tumblr.com/

https://markruffalo.tumblr.com/

When I was 15, I stumbled upon a video, embedded cozily within your pages. This would mark the beginning of my love for Steam Powered Giraffe, a band that taught me something doesn’t have to be popular to be good. I was instantly hooked. I’d never heard anything like them before!

The band’s fandom was niche, but their lore was rich and the stories they told kept me listening for years to come. The uniqueness of the band gave me something special to love. Not many people know about them. No one ever asked me about them. They were simply mine to enjoy. Having even just one pure thing in your life that makes you happy no matter what can make the world of difference, especially while growing up. You kept me going.

youtube

When I was 16, I finally found names to the feelings I was having about my gender and sexuality while scrolling down your body. See, you give a safe-space to LGBTQ+ individuals to be free and express their true identities. I now understand that both gender and sexuality are on a spectrum and the majority of people are somewhere in the middle. You also gave me exposure to those who identify in all kinds of different ways. Exposure that I would’ve never experienced in real life.

You may not be mainstream, but that’s what makes you special because neither are we. There’s very little fear that someone you don’t want knowing about your sexuality will find out from Tumblr. We’re able to keep our personal information as private as we want. You protected and nourished my identity.

When I was 17, I took a day away from you to work at a polling location for the 2016 Presidential election. It was an eye-opening experience, as was the outcome of the election. You are the reason I identify more with the Democratic party, while also being aware of many other stances (I would more accurately label myself as an anti-capitalist socialist now, but usually just tell people I’m a Democrat).

You give everyone a place to express their political ideas, critiques, and opinions with no filters. It was so refreshing and somewhat surprising to see Americans complaining about America instead of the usual blind nationalism I was used to in person. I was reassured that my frustrations were not mine alone. It is crucial that people understand multiple viewpoints because there are so many options and solutions for us to explore. You revealed my beliefs.

A very good post explaining anti-capitalism stance;

https://quinndolyns.tumblr.com/post/159946772655/people-seem-to-have-trouble-understanding-why-im

There’s really so much you’ve influenced; from my sense of humor, tastes in fashion/aesthetics, confidence, self-love, appreciation for animals, climate change awareness... I could go on and on. You truly have no limits (until it comes to nudity).

Yes, anyone can post anything. Sometimes, that can turn out to be a very bad thing, but I think those toxic, hateful ( and often anonymous) people hardly outweigh the joy you generate every day.

Although some people may think I’m lesser than because of my feelings for you, I will never stop having them. Without you, I don’t know if I would know who I am and what’s important to me.

I’m studying video production in college because of my love for movies and TV shows. I have a deep appreciation for all music and even made my own music video (for a Steam Powered Giraffe song, of course). I have friends from all corners of the LGBTQ+ community and I’ve had the opportunity to interview a transitioning friend to better understand some struggles of my fellow gays. I have a firm grasp on my beliefs that push me to work for a better, stronger world.

To anyone who’s reading this, know that you should never be ashamed of things that bring you happiness and a sense of self in this crazy world we live in. Enjoy them unapologetically.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqs1Wni68N0

https://youtu.be/bhiU6LWGMKA

You made me, Tumblr.

Thank you.

Love, S.G.

#school project #digital literacy #how social media shaped me #a love letter to tumblr #marvel #mcu #steam powered giraffe #lgbt #lgbtq+#good omens #sherlock #anti-capitalism #socialist #democrat #me #myself #and i #gay

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alrightsnaps · 5 years

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Your dislike for Clarke is inspiring. I haven't watched the show since season 3 I think, but I stopped liking her in season 1, so yah. Raven deserved lead.

Raven had the potential to become the sci-fi female lead.

An impoverished girl that grew up with an alcoholic, neglectful mother and managed to grow into a strong yet kindhearted woman? A downright genius latina mechanic that inspires admiration and respect and saves the day time after time? A disabled woman with chronic pain that simply does not know the meaning of the word give up, because she's a survivor that will always fight for her life no matter what?

She'd be fucking iconic!

Raven is simply too good to be true, and these idiotic writers reduce her to a side character they only remember when someone has to save everyone's asses, torture porn (which is absolutely disgusting) or shoving her with the next insignificant dude that joins the show as a love interest.

But it's not just that Clarke doesn't hold a candle next to Raven of course– though she sure as hell does not. I could handle a character I dislike, we all have one or two of those in every show. It's her sidelining every other character, constantly putting everyone (including Raven and Bellamy that are my favourites) in danger and betraying her people, constantly whining about how she never asked for power yet repeatedly stepping forward as a self-proclaimed leader (and fucking everything up once again) and never ever facing any consequences for her actions.

If you can believe it, I started watching the show more than biased in favour of Clarke. In favour of Bellarke. In favour of Clexa. (you know how hyped up all these are on social media!). As far as I knew when I decided to give the show a shot, it was a surprisingly good teen drama (that many compared to got.... I'm still laughing about that bit) with a badass bisexual lead character. What's not to like?

Needless to say that's....not how I found Clarke. Or the show. By season 3, her arrogance, insufferable entitlement and hypocrisy is so in-your-face I could hardly stand her. (Season 6 is downright comical in that sense, with the writers coming up with a melodramatic martyresque Clarke centred plot to make her come out as the victim, when in last season's finale she sent Raven to get tortured and Bellamy to die in a fighting pit. The lengths to which they'll go to avoid her actually facing the consequences of her actions never cease to amaze me.)

I guess it has to do in big part with how cw shows are in general– no in depth characters that merely serve as puppets to move an action filled plot forward, and zero logical consequence. The 100 feels like watching a Walmart version of the mess that were seasons 7+8 of GoT on a loop. A constant tell-not-show narattive– we'll tell you who's the good guy and who’s the villain, even though our labels don't make much sense as far as the characters’ actions and motivations are concerned.

For example, D&D decide that Dany is the bad guy and start hinting it since season 7, even though her actual actions up to 8x04 directly contradict it. So she's made out to look like an arrogant bitch for not giving some random guy free pass to her resources or agreeing to help him fight some fairytale ice zombies the moment she sees him, her killing enemies in battle after they brutally wipe out her allies is interpreted as some Mad Queen foreshadowing, her not giving North an independence they have no armies to fight for or the skills to negotiate for, is proof that she'll become a tyrant and so on.

And of course the double standards– Dany is mad and too eager to use violence for not mourning her lifelong abuser, killing rapists and crucifying slave masters after they did the same to literal kids, but Sansa and Arya are kweens for smiling after feeding her rapist to his dogs and massacring a room full of people and baking actual human beings into pies respectively. Daenerys shows the signs of a tyrant for executing the men that betrayed their liege lord and butchered their entire House after actually giving them a choice, but Robb barely an imperfect leader for doing the same to Rickard Karstark, without giving him much of a say in the matter either. (The list could go on forever.)

In the same way in the 100 (or in reverse I guess?) Clarke is supposed to be some heroic leader, even though she lets one of her own get executed for a war crime without even demanding (or at least trying to negotiate) that the same price is paid by the opposing side when it comes to their war criminals (especially since this was a war started by the grounders against a group of defenceless teenage refugees in the first place) all to achieve a fragile alliance (btw I'll never forgive the 100 for making me care for Finn McPlainface, whose scenes I could barely watch without falling asleep, but good god, was his death poorly handled. Are these writers ignorant in politics or plain stupid?). After they are betrayed by their ‘allies’ she abandons her people at a crucial time and then.....jumps into bed with the woman that forced her to kill her boyfriend, left them all to die and had her kidnapped (thanks for the quality sapphic rep cw– I hate it). She falls madly in love with her in the span of five days, immediately reclaiming her role as a leader without even asking the actual people she's supposed to lead (and that's just the first three seasons!).

But a hero and a leader she is.

Then there's, once again, the horrifically obvious double standards. How is it possible to blatantly judge your characters based on different standards even within the same season? Clarke can blow up 250+ of her own people to save her ass and nobody even learns about it, much less have her pay the price for her choice. She can literally get into bed with the enemy while insisting on playing leader without asking anyone, and there are no reprecussions whatsoever. But Bellamy’s s03 massacre of an army of people that had repeatedly chased, tortured, killed, threatened and attempted to massacre them repeatedly (and were once again doing that at the time of Bellamy’s actions), will be brought up again and again and again in future seasons because it makes him a Dark Character Beyond Redemption, which the audience isn't allowed to forget.

Or Pike– a refugee that witnessed countless of his own people persecuted and violently murdered by the locals from the moment he stepped foot on the ground is straight up portrayed as shady for distrusting them (never mind Sky people were once again threatened with a massacre at the time). He was literally paralleled to Trump by this hellish fandom (while mass murderer Lexa is supposed to be some Flower Power Badass Queen I guess) and shoved a shitty trope of the xenophobic entitled colonizer, straight up ignoring the show's context (how anyone could make the Skaikru/colonizers and grounders/Native Americans parallels with no shame is beyond me, but apparently some people have difficulty differentiating between colonizers and refugees, as if the two are even remotely close). I'm not excusing anything he did afterwards of course–he clearly went off the rails. My problem is the show portraying him straight up as the Bad Guy for holding actual democratic elections, while the privileged non elected elite that led them to the Mount Weather mess were supposed to be the Good ones. Much like Dany was the Tyranical Dragon Queen from the moment she set foot in Winterfell, because Sansa had prophetic abilities and could predict the clusterfuck of 8x05 I guess!

At the end of the day, I was a fool to trust any recommendations and take a cw show seriously.. if it weren't for Bellamy and Raven I'd be out of this mess loooooooong ago! I'll hardly last this season really, not when every episode is dedicated to praising Princess Clarke Griffin, Bellamy having turned into her hypnotised lapdog with no personality of his own, and her stans constantly attacking Raven for not kissing her ass and *daring* to hold her responsible for her actions.

#this is a looooooooong answer #but this show frustratea me and I needed to unwind! sorry #♥️#clarke griffin

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adamsvanrhijn · 5 years

Text

fanfiction: to be between two religions

title: to be between two religions fandom: Les Misérables rating: general/teen relationships/characters: Enjolras/Marius; Marius, Enjolras word count: 4,660 keywords/tags: Swimming, Canon Era, Enjolras Has Feelings, Awkward Marius, Physical Fitness as Bonapartist Democrat Praxis summary:

Early one morning, Marius Pontmercy attends the swimming school where Enjolras is a regular.

notes: written for AO3 user CharlesLindberg for the 2019 Chocolate Box exchange.

{read two religions on AO3} {read two religions on Dreamwidth}

Marius is in a daze in the dressing room, in the showers, as he walks from that cloister of dry rooms to the lukewarm and humid area of pool facility.

His visit to the swimming school this morning marks the return of a habit he had many months before discarded: owing to his obligations — concerns at the publishing house which had drawn him from his reveries, forced him to work more than he was inclined — he has not slept properly in some days, and if the years of his adolescence are to be any evidence, the physical exertion of swimming never fails to rejuvenate and reset his body to its natural state. Besides that, newfound independence, penniless independence at that, distracted him from his old routines; he has neglected his body in favor of his mind. But he is here again, and has resolved to continue to be here even on days when it is not strictly necessary to wake him up. Courfeyrac was generous in giving him the sous to spend his morning bathing, indeed, he gave enough for a month's worth of patronage; he does not wish for the loan to be in vain.

(A year ago he would not have accepted a loan at all.)

Once he is in the water he feels momentarily as though he does not remember how he became so, but ducking under solves this problem, and then he is able to attempt once more that rhythm of the arms and legs which is only possible for a man submerged.

The first thirty meters are slow; on the second length he goes a little faster. The third and fourth are taxing, and when he nears the side of the pool where he started, he realizes that in his absence he has forgotten how to properly breathe.

A queue has formed at the end of the lane, in the shallow end. He surfaces to join it, treading water, bobbing: the floor is just enough inches beneath him that he is underwater entirely if he tries to stand upon it.

"Marius Pontmercy?"

In a careful balance, Marius tilts his head sideways to press the water out of his ear, presses his curly wet hair back from his forehead with the heel of his palm. The length is growing bothersome, but with all his distractions he has not yet seen to a barber. Now that he is attempting swimming practise, he is more cognizant of that necessity.

If he remembers, he'll ask Courfeyrac about it later.

"Marius Pontmercy."

He remains in place, another point in the line of swimmers. No one knows him, here, so whatever voice is saying his name must be an imagined one. It does sound a little familiar, but all imaginary voices must; it is not so uncommon to hear one's name amongst a din of human speech. Sound in the natatory room echoes.

Something brushes against his knee under the water, and he flinches.

Then he blinks. The something was someone, and the someone was saying his name indeed. It is Enjolras, Courfeyrac's friend, who is before him now. Marius feels blood rush to his cheeks: in recent months he has spent plenty of time with Courfeyrac, some even with L'Aigle and Jean Prouvaire, and although they have been not too long ago in the same room, his most prominent memory of being alone with Enjolras — even if it is from years ago!— is not one he is fond of. And it is alone, here, a quick glance tells him that everyone else in the swimming school at this hour indeed is a stranger.

"What a pleasure it is to see you, Citizen," says Enjolras, gracious. Although he does not smile, not really, he gazes into Marius with light in his eyes, an earnest turn in his lips; the discomfort dissipates. Looking at him, Marius forgets to paddle his hands and kick his legs, and he nearly sinks.

Then Enjolras takes his elbow and holds him upright, completely level, until he starts again. Marius looks down and sees that only his legs move beneath the water.

"Huh," says Marius, for he sees also that Enjolras looks very different while undressed. And too: were it not for the fact that he has on previous occasions accompanied him elsewhere, alongside Courfeyrac, Marius might assume that the man existed solely in lamplit backrooms, speaking of Thermidor and guillotines and Rousseau and crime and whatever other conversational matters to which republicans so devout as he were prone.

(In fact, Marius has never before in his life heard Enjolras utter the word "guillotine".)

It is difficult to shake the impression that Enjolras should not be here, for in a swimming pool is a far cry from in the street, bathing clothes have little in common with an overcoat, Courfeyrac is not here to mind him, and thus there is nothing about this encounter which Marius can relate to any others.

Enjolras looks at him with an unreadable expression – high forehead smooth, head tilted. Droplets of water are still upon his cheeks, flushed only slightly with exertion; a damp lock of hair falls at his brow. In daylight, when dry, Enjolras's hair is pale but with a golden sheen; here it is nearly translucent. It curls about his face like a girl's.

...he is, however, very much a man, even if Marius had thought them each the same age at one point — that horrible cusp when one is between adult and child — until Courfeyrac had mentioned otherwise. Marius thinks to himself that if young women were to smile at Enjolras, it would be because they think him handsome, whether he wore a threadbare coat or not. Himself, he has no such good fortune.

Another man begins his next length; they move up in the line. Marius grabs the curved edge of the wall so that he need not exert effort simply to stay in place.

Enjolras does no such thing. It seems to Marius that he ought to have better things to do than attend open hours at the swimming pool so early in the day. He nearly asks the question — 'why are you here, at a quarter to seven in the morning?' — then thinks better of it, but he senses that his mouth is opening and closing like that of a fish.

A fitting comparison for the setting, even if any respectable fish ought be far more comfortable in the water than Marius himself.

"You think it odd that I attend the swimming school."

...even after time apart, it is as though Enjolras knows everything he has ever thought, and thinks him wrong for it.

Marius presses his lips together and nods.

"Man ought to be in water as he is on land."

Dimly Marius recalls that this was an opinion published by Rousseau, and determines that his impression of Enjolras was at least not entirely inaccurate.

He makes no reply, however. What is there to say?

They are splashed by a turning swimmer. The wall is not really meant for conversation.

Enjolras touches his shoulder, and a thrill travels down Marius's back. "And indeed," he says, "my mother will need her navymen," and then he moves nearer to the wall, bends his knees, and pushes into a swift, effortless crawl stroke.

Marius watches the contraction of his back and curve of his elbow, dazed.

So he continues swimming laps. So early in the morning is an unusual time to be at the pool; the room is hardly crowded. There are but four other men in his lane besides Enjolras, each of whom seem to match his own capability and speed. Enjolras passes them all at various points and is utterly considerate about it.

Swimming, Marius believes, develops his mind and body at once. He once regularly attended the school at the quai d'Orsay to hone the skill, for lessons and for free-time alike, but with all his practice he has not become exceptional, and his year upon dryland only has certainly not done him any favors. It is very well, he supposes, for while Enjolras has mentioned the Navy, the Emperor's conquests were made upon land, not water; a honeybee can fly but not swim. There were no seas to be crossed at Marengo or Borodino.

In any case, he does not aspire to join the military, or at least, not for a France under the House of Bourbon. Still, he would like to be skilled at it, and devotes himself to lessons wholeheartedly, practices on his own time. Physical fitness is important. He imagines, too, that his father would have valued a son who strives to be competent in all man's capacities, being ranked so in the military, and dreams that he is growing up in the fashion of Baron Colonel Georges Pontmercy. Yes, Marius would like to be an upstanding young man in his father's image: versatile, well-rounded, a superlative version of himself, suited for a nation united under the Empire.

Since leaving his grandfather's house he has lapsed in discipline; it used to be that he might go swimming whenever the thought passed his mind — on his returns from Vernon, after a lecture, upon waking, before retiring. He did not exert himself only when he thought he needed to, but regularly, with the cognizance that to do so improved him as a man; once he learned the truth of his lineage, his desire for that improvement only increased.

Well: he has lapsed in this discipline; without discipline he could not have learned to read in German or English, nor maintained steady work, earned his keep. Without discipline, he would not have made up his mind upon his employment and devoted his free-time to pondering and reading and listening, to taking walks in the city and dining at old-fashioned restaurants. But while his thoughts have flourished, his form has suffered.

Luckily, even after time away, the water still refreshes him. He will much prefer it to accompanying Courfeyrac to see his friends on his days off, and at times when he is not inclined to be social, to passing the hours with old Mabeuf, as well. He will allow himself plenty of time to improve again.

Meanwhile, Enjolras is as comfortable in the water as a dolphin – although perhaps he would not prefer precisely that comparison. His technique and his vigor are mesmerizing; he cannot help but watch whenever he has the chance. He glides more than double the length of his body at once and turns his head to breathe without altering the positioning of his torso and legs; the muscles in his narrow shoulders and back tense and relax in rhythm. His strokes and kicks have strength behind them. The wool of his bathing costume conforms to his thighs and his shoulders and — to his body, generally, in a manner that would be inappropriate, were ladies present. When he swims upon his back, Marius finds that he must avert his eyes.

The hour continues on, and Enjolras does not leave.

Each time Marius feels they are distant from one another, he then notices Enjolras approaching from behind him. Enjolras simply has more stamina. It is unfortunate, thinks Marius, that the months of absence from the swimming school have rendered his own body foreign to him. He must breathe more frequently, pause at the end of the course for longer – once, he was more capable. He feels as though he has entered into a competition against his will, that he need prove something, he begins to kick harder, pull with more effort.

But it is too much, too soon, and so as he finishes the fourth length of a repetition of 120 metres, pause he does.

Some seconds later, Enjolras performs a gymnastic somersault beneath the water beside him, and continues on without taking a breath.

Marius lays his forearms upon the edge of the floor above the pool and rests his head upon his elbow, breathing heavily. His pulse is still racing from the exertion.

He stays like that for a little longer, allowing the other men to pass him by, until an old man in an impermeable waistcoat and garish taffeta water-cap leans over to him to say, "have you finished, then?"

Marius, his arms keeping him buoyant at the wall, feeling as dazed as he had upon his arrival, can do nothing but blink up at him dumbly. The old man tuts and begins to dip his toes into the water beside his shoulder.

He understands this message, and so hoists himself out of the pool, the session concluded.

When Enjolras enters the dressing area from the shower room, holding his wrung-out swimming costume in one hand and a linen towel around his waist with the other, Marius himself is nude and examining a hole in his chemise. He tries not to let this new presence phase him, but finds he can think only of the thoughts which must run through Enjolras's head: he is poor, he cannot afford even a patch for his shirt, he thinks little of his own appearance, he is foolish, he does not finish what he starts, he lacks in self-government... He cannot imagine the words in Enjolras's voice, for Enjolras has only ever been kind to him; nonetheless he cannot shake the sensation that he is being sneered at.

"In the interest of verity," begins Enjolras abruptly, "I shall say that I may speak only on my own behalf." He retrieves a stack of folded garments from the shelves, sets them upon one of the benches — diagonally from Marius — and then lays the towel down and sits, begins patting himself down with a smaller one. Marius turns from him before he sees more than he ought to. "But, I have missed your presence at society gatherings."

This is not sneering.

Marius does not look at him.

"Thank you?" he manages to reply, but the words leave his lips with garbled intonation; he sounds to his own ear a schoolboy unsure of his recitation. He has not actually attended a meeting of the society of the Friends of the ABC in nearly two years.

"No need." This is accompanied by a sound resembling a laugh, but softer, somehow kinder. He has the impression that behind him Enjolras is watching him – waiting for him, perhaps, to say that he misses attending them, or that he would like to come again soon. But there is nothing to wait for: Marius has long-since made his decision upon the state of things, and though he maintains friendly relations with some of the society's members, he does not wish to be a friend himself.

"I am glad that I am graced with it here, nevertheless," Enjolras continues. "Do you swim often?"

He sets down his shirt. In any other circumstance, confronted with a man he knows in such a strange environment, he is sure he would feel compelled to dress and depart as quickly as possible. To do this to Enjolras, however, seems as though it might be disrespectful —

The fact that he is even considering this facet of etiquette makes him feel as though he ought to follow his instinct, and stay.

"I used to."

"Perhaps you might begin again."

Marius does not look at him.

"Perhaps. Yourself?"

"Yes, thrice a week, in winter."

Marius says, "it is very cold this year."

In an ordinary conversation they would be seated or standing across from one another, able to observe the other's countenance, and fully clothed. Owing to the latter aspect, Marius is unwilling to turn around. He gazes at the wall, instead, and simply hears: an occasional splash from the corridor to the pool, the squeak of a hand-crank in the shower room next door, the whir of water through pipes. He feels his arms hang limp at his sides and becomes suddenly aware of his own body and his state of undress, as though he ought be doing something with himself; he crosses his arms at his belly and clenches his hands, a little.

"And to be moving is to be warm," says Enjolras, breaking the quiet. His tone gives Marius the impression he might be quoting something, but he cannot imagine what. It is not so complex a thought. "In summer, there is more to do out of doors; I maintain the habit in winter for the body's sake. One does not feel cold so much if he exerts himself regularly."

"That is true," says Marius, and he fidgets, rubbing his knees together awkwardly, before adding softly — "you do swim very well."

"Ah — thank you, as do you."

There it is: perhaps Enjolras intends to mock him, perhaps his flattery is insincere. Marius scoffs a little too loudly, and begins to arrange his clothing that he can depart sooner.

"You do not think so? You've excellent technique, Marius; I imagine only that you are out of practice. Yours is a problem of stamina."

Excellent technique, with a problem of stamina.

Perhaps Enjolras is simply the most earnest man he has ever met, and wishes only for the improvement of others. Perhaps Marius is being stupid and ought to stop thinking that Courfeyrac's friends see him a half-wit.

"I do not intend to give unwelcome criticism. Indeed, I hope to see you continue. Yes, I come here to be warm, but so too does swimming develop not only the musculature of a man but also his discipline and character — a regular practice from which we may all benefit," comes his voice again, falling into the same, lofty tone from before, and uncharacteristically wistful.

"Are those your words?" blurts Marius, for he cannot help himself.

"No, in fact, they are my father's, though the idea cannot be attributed to any one man."

"Your father!"

Yes, this conversation is sincere, after all.

Marius attempts to picture Enjolras-the-senior, and only succeeds in imagining a broad and graying Enjolras-Courfeyrac's-friend. He thinks to himself, with some bitterness, that Enjolras has words from his father, in his father's voice; perhaps Enjolras visits his father at Christmastime in the provinces, wherever he is from, and swimming in winter is a strange sort of family tradition that began there.

"How — yes, my father."

"How splendid!"

"Among numerous other things, he taught me to swim himself; I learned in the Loire. I am fond of those memories."

Questions come to him at a rapid pace; he says everything that comes into his mind at once, unable to stop himself.

"The river, you mean? Wouldn't it be cold, in wintertime? Well, you are from the South, I can tell by the way you — never mind, perhaps it is warmer there, do you swim together still?"

"Indeed the river, and yes, very cold in all seasons. We swam out of doors only, and only in summer: the water comes from the mountains. There were no heated baths and steam pumps as in Paris."

This only partially satisfies Marius, yet he stops himself from continuing the interrogation, cognizant of his running mouth. After a moment, Enjolras adds quietly, "My father died, however, when I was twelve. By that time I was living with my uncle and did not see him regularly."

Marius's heart stutters, and he at last turns around to look at him.

Enjolras sits with his back straight as a soldier's, his legs parted at the thighs and crossed at the ankles. His hair is soaked, still; Marius watches a drop of water fall from a curl to his shoulder, along his toned chest and abdomen. No matter how frail or feeble he may seem while clothed, owing to lean limbs and reedy hands and skin that at times was more wan than rosy, in the water, clad in clinging wool and always in motion, it had been clear that Enjolras had the build more of a warrior than a wilting flower. Perhaps he was raised as Marius imagines he himself might have been, in different circumstances: he mentioned lessons, so it is that his uprightness and his constitution and his fitness are products of his parentage.

Here, stripped, the look of him makes Marius wonder for a moment what else about Enjolras ought be obvious to him that isn't.

He feels heat rise to his cheeks when he realizes that Enjolras sees him looking, and turns his gaze to the floor, instead, just for a moment, to rid himself of the sense of impropriety.

"I didn't know," he says, mouth suddenly dry, and then he looks at Enjolras once more — now in the eyes. Here they can hold one another's gaze, where before Marius was utterly incapable of it.

"Thus I have told you. I do not think of him often; you needn't offer commiseration."

"But you see — you see — I was seventeen."

"Pardon?"

Breathe.

"When my own father died, I was seventeen. I never knew him. As a boy he did not teach me to swim, nor anything else, but I come here now in his honor. My mother died when I was five. I have a grandfather, but he is nothing to me now, and an aunt, but she lives in his house."

Enjolras tilts his head to one side, quizzical, and says nothing. Marius cannot think of what to do, but once more his mouth continues for him, and once he has started he finds he cannot stop — whether or not Enjolras understands, or wishes to hear it, is of no consequence, for the need to justify himself has risen in him, and can only be satisfied in this way. "I was kept from my father. I've neither fond nor unfavorable memories of him in life, for I learned the truth about him only upon his death, from reading a letter he left me and then the newspapers, the army bulletins. I never knew him at all. At my age he was fighting in the Army of the Rhine — you will know about the battles of Jemappes, and Pirmasens, and Mainz, surely — "

"Of course — under the Republic."

A font seems to come up from within Marius at Enjolras's hallowed tone as he pronounces the word, Republic.

"He fought under the Republic in his youth, and he fought under the Empire as a man. Under the Republic he rose in the ranks, but achieved no glory; the Republic was a stepping stone for my father as it was for France. I respect it, do not have that air; I respect the Republic. I must respect what laid the foundation, but it is the construction which I venerate. The Emperor was the builder; his method was as conqueror. To France he brought triumph, the gleam of the future, a territory united in greatness; that is what my father fought for. Under the Emperor my father became a captain and then a Major. At Waterloo it was he who seized the regimental colours of the Limburg Rifles; doing so earned for him a Legion of Honor and a barony, and now that is mine. I cannot be all what he wished for me, not after my childhood, not after the theft of the throne, but I — "

From experience, he is careful not to end his speech with a question.

"I endeavor to honor him in all that I do."

Enjolras is neither solemn nor amused; he does not scoff, but he has lost a little of the approval in his gaze. He seems almost sad. He says, "thus you admire Buonaparte," and clasps his hands before him, looks at Marius with searching eyes.

Marius is incapable of processing this. "Why — "

"You do not care for my pronunciation; I do not care for yours. '95 was a service, '97 a warning, '99 a betrayal. I shall call a tyrant as I please."

"It is a matter of principle," says Marius, and there is more he wishes to say, but Enjolras's tone is sobering, final. Enjolras looks him up and down; he becomes once more aware of his undress, and turns away a little.

"It is good for a man to have principles," begins Enjolras. "You have them, as you say, and you've a vehemence about them; for that I respect you. Apathy is the adversary of progress and good-will, Marius, and that is a matter upon which I daresay we agree. You speak of foundations: that laid by the people in '89 and '93 has not crumbled despite the efforts of those who sought to rule France by force, but I cannot agree with you that Buonaparte built upon its legacy, and I should not agree were someone to say the same of Louis XVIII or Charles X." – then he pauses, and goes on only with, "forgive me for my untowardness, Citizen, for I do not wish to discomfit you. You are an intelligent, impassioned man; you have bared your soul to me; you have confided in me, and I have met you not with consideration but with contrarianism."

The contrarianism itself is of no consequence, for Marius cannot imagine that Enjolras will ever understand him, nor he Enjolras. This matter is one upon which he has made his mind, but now he is confronted with it again. Marius does not want to be a pupil, as Courfeyrac said once; he wants to keep to himself, stay true to what he knows is right, remain steadfast. In a way, this is worse than the scorn he has imagined receiving, than the words he perceived as mockery, from Enjolras, for now that he is receiving such clear praise, he cannot even think ill of his intentions.

He and Enjolras are different in their views, in their routines, in their beliefs.

But they are alike, in some ways, too.

"You are not untoward."

"No?"

"You are always discussing politics. It would be foolish of me to expect otherwise, but I am not uncomfortable to do so as well; it is only that I disagree with you on the fundamentals. I have laid out my reasons for you."

"Which of them?"

This gives Marius pause.

Enjolras looks almost pleased with himself.

"I refer, of course, to your fundamentals, Marius."

"I — have we not established this? You want to discuss now?" For it is rather a miracle they've not been intruded upon, in the state they're in, the conversation they've had. Neither of their philosophies are particularly palatable for most, Marius imagines, but to please the palate is not why they keep them.

"Of course there are better venues for this discourse," he continues, and at long last he pats himself down with the ends of the towel before retrieving and donning his shirt, which is bright white and seems freshly laundered. "Have you yet plans for your day, Marius?"

Now Marius turns from him entirely, back to where he started, and he picks up his own to do the same. The new tear in his chemise - he has a little money now, Madame Bourgon can darn it, if he remembers to ask - is right at the collar; his coat will not conceal it. The old one is inconveniently revealing. It is laundered, but worn and yellowed.

Another difference between them.

"No," he says, shirt over his head. He pushes his arms through, adjusts it, and fastens each button of the placket — Enjolras does the same, and at the same time.

Each across from the other they wrap their shirts, don their trousers; Enjolras has more pieces in his outfit than Marius but takes somehow less time to dress. Enjolras fastens his overcoat at his throat.

Another similarity.

He gathers his own things; Enjolras offers assistance. Once they are orderly he clasps Marius's shoulder, just like in times before, and then his hand slides along his back that they may link arms.

"Allow me to take you to breakfast."

"Oh," replies Marius, a little caught off-guard. "All right."

And so he allows himself be lead, just this once, and they depart together.

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mystopience-system · 5 years

Text

hi take my awful drawing

this is. ch oc! her name is United Englandia I’ve actually had her for a while now- somewhere after September cuz that’s when I joined the ch fandom hecc. this is actually a redesign for her but eh i need to put her on tumblr. that’s why I put MyriadVeritas/Truth cuz my dA is MyriadVeritas but my tumblr is Myriad-Truth hh

technically she’s a British Isles- that’s like. her base? kind of. her father was Britain though, (and he also gave her her bow before he died) and each of the countries there have autonomy (headcanon, countries with not enough autonomy will be like ghosts that only the country can see, so England, Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and Ireland are ghosts to Dia.)

Her history- uh, she was formed.. idk, 2018 i think in history- after a kinda coup thing and they unified the entire british isles (so yes there was a war fite me). everyone was kinda just.. well fuck um. that’s not very good is it? and a while later Germany actually declared war on Dia, which would’ve been great except Germany got defeated and turned into the Protectorate of the Iron Cross (which is why Dia is wearing an Iron Cross.) during the war her eye also got stabbed out which is why she wears an eyepatch. After that, everyone started calling her an empire, so they took that and Dia’s official name is the United Imperial Kingdoms of United Englandia. (yay creativity) She also closed off the borders, so people in the empire can only travel to the different islands and Germany.

this bit gets a bit fantastical (and involves frens ocs from dA) but she also invented time travel. now keep in mind her government, whilst being labour, (kinda democratic-socialist, at least aiming to be) they’re not evil. so as they travel from world to world, they offer military protection, which can vary from army to navy to air support and other things, letting the state they help become a protectorate and choose how much autonomy they want, aslong as they get something in return- food imports, ect. (which is how the people in the main universe get food n shit. closed borders yo). she also formed an alliance with the Britannian Empire and the Nalarenian Empire (two of my friend’s ocs!)

...i guess that’s it. fuck that’s a lot tho kill me

(also COUGH dia x germany still COUGH i love shipping COUGH)

oh yeah she has nationstates https://www.nationstates.net/nation=united_englandia

#god fuck my hands hurt #my art #countryhumans #countryhumans ocs #ch #faklsdkadjasdas kill me #united englandia

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lokgifsandmusings · 5 years

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Cover and summary for Part 2 of Ruins of an Empire are out on the publisher’s website. Thoughts?

Lots!

I also have another ask relating to this, but it’s vaguely spoilerly, so below the cut it goes.

~spoilers ahead~

Anonymous said to lokgifsandmusings: Just looked at the new cover for Ruins of the Empire part 2, and from the description it’s more so gonna focus on Kuvira and Korra working together. The more information I’m seeing, the more I feel they are going to woobify her more than they did in the finale. I don’t think I’ll be reading. Su is involved but it doesn’t seem Kuvira’s interactions are going to be mostly with her, but with Korra instead. That is upsetting, unless I’m proven wrong.

Okay, so first things first, the new cover/description can be found here. For anyone who doesn’t recall, the part 1 preview pages are here, and the description is this:

Korra must decide who to trust as the fate of the Earth Kingdom hangs in the balance!On the eve of its first elections, the Earth Kingdom finds its future endangered by its past. Even as Kuvira stands trial for her crimes, vestiges of her imperial ambitions threaten to undermine the nation’s democratic hopes. But when Korra, Asami, Mako, and Bolin don’t all see eye-to-eye as to the solution, drastic measures will be taken to halt a new march to war!

Part 2′s description, follows:

King Wu’s dreams of peacefully transitioning the Earth Kingdom into a democracy are in danger when Commander Guan throws his political hat in the ring, hoping to subvert the new system from the inside out. But playing fair was never part of his plan; Guan and Dr. Sheng are using terrifying new technology to cement Guan’s win! In a desperate attempt to save the Earth Kingdom from falling back into the dark days of conquest and empire, Korra and Kuvira convince an old friend to return and take the former commander on in the polls. But will it be enough?

Now, I absolutely LOVED the preview pages, and part 1′s description. To me, this felt in character for everyone on the page. I also have to say I’m one of the most hesitant people about Kuvira’s character.

I hate the way the fandom leather-pantsed her, I hate the way “korvira” became this ship immediately that while totally in good faith for some (even if I have very strong preferences against it), for others it was this weird shield against any homophobic charges that may have followed a particularly virulent Korrasami reaction. This was like, actually a thing and a thing that was prevalent.

At the same time, with some distance from all…that, I’ve found Kuvira to be interesting to dig into. I explored her headspace a bit in Half the Pieces (the 2 weeks after she surrendered), and I came to the same place largely that the preview pages seem to be at too; that she knows she made mistakes and did these bad things (hell, she basically confessed to all the charges in the preview pages), but that she still has this extreme pride, she still feels like she really did materially help the EK, and that her punishment isn’ to taking anything into consideration other than like…Suyin’s ego and her need to see Kuvira humiliated.

With this set-up, I 100% could see Korra willing to work with Kuvira as a means-to-an end sort of thing. I don’t think she’d want to join in Su with the fist-shaking, and their are pragmatic ways Kuvira could help move the EK towards Wu’s democratic vision, given the sway Kuvira must still have in the EK. My guess is part 1 is going to be exploring whether that pride of hers (”imperial ambitions”) will be her undoing in this context. I don’t think Korra is so much an ally, and certainly not forgiving of anything done, but would at least want to let Kuvira have that chance to step towards reform. She seems herself in Kuvira, in the sense that they’ve both acted out of fear in that way, even if Kuvira’s actions themselves were obviously in a completely different league than anything Korra ever did (morally speaking).

I’ll admit, Part 2′s description is surprising that they’d bring in Guan as a figure to endanger the democratic vision–Kuvira is sufficient for that, unless they felt there wasn’t 3 70-page volumes out of it. I do have concerns about this, especially since Mike as a comics writer has demonstrated a bit of a shortfall in his ability to plan and introduce story elements. The Turf Wars volumes as a narrative were super, super uneven. Plot threads were introduced in 1, only to be dropped. Characters would get tossed in here and there, to little overarching effect. The resolution itself was incongruent to the call-to-action from the beginning, and there were no actual character arcs for anyone but like…Keum.

It’s possible it’s not as straight-forward as the part 2 description is making it seem; perhaps Guan is a Kuvira supporter specifically, and there’s still that ongoing tension with Kuvira. I can’t imagine Kuvira’s crimes being listed like that in part 1, and her more or less confessing before claiming she’s not guilty in what’s clearly not the healthiest mindset, only for us to be asked to forgive her and isn’t it great she’s so cooperative. Even if Mike is truly going for a redemption arc, I’d have to think that would span the 3 volumes. I personally would still have a difficult time with that, since there’s no undoing the labor camps, and especially in today’s cultural context, Kuvira’s language is unquestionably fashy, whatever historical parallel Bryke had been going for originally.

I don’t think it’s a forgone conclusion that Kuvira is going to be portrayed in a positive light within these comics, however. And given what we’ve seen of part 1, I actually remain cautiously optimistic. But we’ll see, for sure.

#asks #anonymous #lok comics #ruins of an empire

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sometimesrosy · 5 years

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people are mad that bob suggested that Bellamy may have not forgiven Clarke. but like Bellamy only said that he ain’t mad at her. and not being mad at someone and forgiving them are two very different thing.

Bob didn’t even suggest it. He just asked if the fan’s assumptions were correct, and told her to watch the show to find out. He basically said, “stick to the text,” honestly.

The way I look at it, he’s telling us that next season will be ABOUT forgiveness… or at least, the story of forgiveness is not done. And as far as I can tell, seeing as we have ALL the characters having to make up for things they have done to others– literally ALL of them– then that is a good question to ask people… getting them to think about the issue of forgiveness, rather than settling on their interpretation as a definitive interpretation.

People are mad because people like to get mad. Because getting other people angry and upset is a better way to get hits and notes and comments. Getting people mad or outraged, getting them to feel like they have enemies and are being attacked is how they gain control in our communities.

Starting WARS is how people get others to follow them, how they get people on their side.

I mean, in fandom it’s part of the landscape, isn’t it? Shipwars? I know when I first joined fandom and was a little naive about it, I was singled out as one of the “enemies” and the entire CL fandom rallied around destroying me. I’m not the only one, but it definitely happened. To the point where they’d lie about what I said and send people to attack me for their lies.

I’ve watched as “krus” developed around calling someone the enemy. ANYONE. Sometimes it’s specific other fans, sometimes it’s a ship, sometimes it’s a character, an actor, the show runner, I have seen people bond over deciding an actor’s GIRLFRIEND was the enemy and they needed to attack her, and they were RIGHTEOUS to do so. And if you’re paying attention and honest with yourself, you’ve seen it too. Having a defense squad entails having an enemy against which to defend/fight. If there’s no one to fight, they have to make up enemies to keep their squad. Hmm. They make up shipwars. They make up fanwars. They turn creators into the enemy who hates them. It might be hard to make Bob into the enemy, since there are so many to “defend” him, since he’s been placed as the center of our fictional war, but I’ve seen it happen before. Unstanning has happened.

Then this morning, someone on twitter makes the point that when Trump had control of all three branches of the government, he was busy getting tax cuts for millionaires and corporations, but as soon as the dems gained a bit of power, that’s when he started in on this wall business. They made the point that Trump didn’t want the wall…. he wanted the DEMOCRATS NOT TO GIVE IT TO HIM.

He wanted A WAR. In fandom, we call that a shipwar. Two factions within the same community, fighting over opposing endgames. In order to mobilize his base, he needs a war, he needs an ENEMY, he needs someone to that they can say is wrong, so HE can be right, so he can raise the flag for everyone to fall in line behind him.

He fights his own government, not to get things done, but to get more power.

We talk a lot about parallels in fiction. And how you can see a storyline repeating, and it says something about what the narrative is about and where it is going.

So when you see patterns in real life, if you start imagining it as a story that people are telling you, you can start to see the themes, the characterization, the goals.

I’m just saying. WHY are we angry when Bob say something that doesn’t fit with what our fandom believes? Why can’t we just take his question as it is, something to ask ourselves, rather than an attack on our very identity?

What do we gain from being angry at a person for having a different way of looking at a story than we have? If we’re not gaining anything from it, is there someone ELSE who is gaining something?

Is feeling righteous about our questionable choices making our lives better? Is asking yourself if your actions and thoughts and decisions are RIGHT *really* an attack on you?

Look. If you take these fictional parallels as practice for understanding how people and society and history and current events work, then you can see an echo here. In The 100, Bellamy is asking himself and the people around him “Is this the right thing to do, or are we just doing it for our people, no matter the cost?”

Are our thoughts/actions the RIGHT thing to do? Or are we making these choices because it gives our side more power regardless of how inaccurate it is, or how it may hurt others?

Are we thinking this about the story because this interpretation feeds our desired outcome for the story or because this is really what happened in that scene? ASKING yourself to question your assumptions or choices or actions or interpretation is not an attack on you. It’s asking you to be thoughtful and considerate and make SURE you are clearsighted about the issues at hand.

Jumping to anger?

That is not clearsighted. Even if you feel it. You can, you are allowed to and you are capable of, stopping, and asking yourself where your anger comes from, if it is a knee jerk reaction or about your personal desires or fears, or being instigated by someone else who GAINS POWER when you are angry and afraid.

Always question your assumptions. And always question the agenda of people who are trying to tell you what to think and what to feel and what to do.

#the 100 #bob on bellamy #critical thinking #there is actually SO much more depth to his question than just shipping or being angry or having our interpretations questioned #but no one looks because all they feel is anger and if they are angry then someone must be wrong #right?#humanities ftw

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watanabes-cum-dump · 3 years

Text

Second Tries part 1: Shadowhunter

Second Tries will be a series where I revisit my old fandom OCs and tweak them around to be less OP and more like a fucking person.

Today on Second Tries, we have Shadowhunter (edgy I know) and old Transformers (yes, that Transformers) OC that I came up with when I was around nine or ten, I dropped her at elven years old because I became obsessed with Magi.

(There was a rewrite of the original story, but I'm not taking that into account as there’s only one chapter versus the original’s 20+ chapter of nine year old me’s crack enabled ramblings)

Let me first explain to you the plot of the show, since this show in particular was Transformers Prime and not the original or the more popular movies. I still love this show, but not to the extent of writing fanfiction. In depth character analyses maybe, but no fanfiction.

So in Transformers Prime, there aretwo sides to a war over the planet Cybertron’s political system, the Autobots (good guys) are on Earth and are collaborating with basically the FBI. The Decepticons (bad guys) are the ones with the advantage here, with larger numbers and legions of drones, plus they have more experienced and smarter minds on their ship with an advanced hacker, two scientists, and a leader who is basically the golden standard of villain.

I won’t refer to them as heroes or villains because both sides have very understandable goals and ways of thinking. I myself leaned more towards the Decepticons because I understood that they were all in all fighting for equality and to overthrow the old order. They were more competent and should have won in my opinion. Both sides ultimately chased the same goal but it was the way they handled it and how it would be settled when one side won that tied the whole thing together.

Transformers Prime was a war and though I couldn’t really tell back then, wars have no right or wrong. There are no good guys and bad guys, the goal is peace, but peace means different things for different people and the way that peace is achieved is also different.

Now that you know the plot of the show this is based off, this is what I could gather of her character:

- Shadowhunter is apparently some sort of divine guardian or something, of what I don’t know, but from looking at old notes, these guardians all sort of reside over specific sets of principals that are important to society in some way. Hers are, get ready for the edge; darkness, war, violence, and most notably, fear.

- Bless my nine year old soul for realizing that having someone with corresponding powers would be too powerful, so I dumbed her down and had her exiled for her rash behavior, stripped of her power but given immortality in exchange to correct her mistakes. Which is actually a very interesting concept.

- Her origin is even more fucked up: she’s half god (they’re called Primes in Transformers, Optimus is sort of like a trial god. Like a demigod?) her dad is the MANEFESTATION OF EVIL (his name is Unicron and he’s like, a fucking planet + was exiled and is only half alive so idk how he even had a kid???) but she was obviously not raised by him, her mother died after giving birth to her (???) and she’s raised by her verbally abusive step father and her step brother, the canon character Soundwave.

(I want to fucking die)

- She, get this, grows up to be seriously fucked in the head but still loves her brother who by the way, she looks nothing like in my old drawings. Maybe I described her as looking more like him but whatever.

- The thing is she acts perfectly sane and I hate it. She acts like a perfectly normal person when described to be basically Azula and she even cries and apologizes for her mistakes THREE CHAPTERS INTO THE STORY.

I find that my issue back then was execution, which is honestly my problem now but back then I didn’t even write any notes, I was sort of on track for the first two chapters and then I fucked off thirty miles south and basically dropped this exiled god concept.

The thing is, she was also written as a canon character’s love interest and I wrote everyone out of character. With her love interest it’s even worst because her boyfriend is a psychotic, merciless, and not to mention abusive war tyrant.

I think that Shadowhunter over here has amazing potential to be a villain and the abusive one in the relationship but I digress, she is the main character and my entire point to her arc was for her to be redeemed. As much as I love this idea, she was supposed to be redeemed.

Shadowhunter was shown to have a soft side, but her soft side shouldn’t get in the way of her ideals. Her whole idea was: camp out with the winning team and hope this war gets over with. She clearly did not care how the war ended, just that it ended and that she be on the right side when it did in the hopes that if this war ended, she technically did what she was supposed to do since she contributed to both the start and ending of the war.

If you’re wondering how she “started the war” I made it so that she got into Megatron’s (the leader of the Decepticons and her love interest) head and fucked him up real good, pushing him to start a war since she was the guardian of violence and by extension, war.

Now, here’s what I would change if I were to rewrite her story:

- I would definitely have her still be violent and overstep her boundaries a lot, the other characters are shown to fear her slightly and wouldn’t stop her then. She gets beaten up for this in the original but I’m not going to include that since the beater in question was her love interest.

- She isn’t the leader, more of a high ranked commander and I need to remember that. Despite her lower statues, she does come from a lot more than her superiors so I would find a way to integrate that since class plays a big role in their society.

- What I really am not comfortable with anymore is the fact that she is written like an emotionally unstable teenager whilst her love interest is clearly older and more mature

- I would make her more mature since I think it was just the way I used to write

- I would make the romance more slow burn and problematic, it was way too fast and turned out way too perfect when both parties are clearly mentally unstable. Perhaps there isn’t really any love, one both sides the end goal is power.

- Seeing as she is to be redeemed, I don’t think their romance should end perfectly. Megatron is still violent and messed up while she has come to terms with her mistakes and has redeemed herself in some way.

- Having her join the other side would be perfect, she isn’t a fan of their methods, but they share the same goal as her: a democratic and peaceful society instead of dictatorship and violence.

- Joining the other side would also be problematic with most of the Autobots seeming to not like her, I like this a lot, since despite her being a very difficult and rash person, she is still powerful and could give them the upper hand on the enemy as an ex commander with inside information.

- Now as for her brother, Soundwave, I’d definitely have them disagree and he would still end up on the losing side in a bad predicament. Perhaps it’d be the turning point for her, and her trying to convince him to join her would definitely add to her redemption and mellow her out

- Her brother dying because of his stubbornness since he’s shown to be extremely loyal to his faction in the show. I like sibling dynamics a lot, especially when they don't share the same goals. It makes for a compelling story and it’s very emotional watching one rise and the other fall when you know they care for each other.

- Maybe she would have genuine love for Megatron, but it actually isn’t shown what happens to him. He actually just flies off in the end, a lot of people presume he’s either committed suicide or lives in exile. So I will yeet that off the table and have her just be content with whatever comes after the war since she most likely can’t have her emotionally unstable boyfriend

- I personally think she’d keep her position as this divine guardian, but be a lot more tamed. I think her problem was that she only listened to herself back then and never actually took the word of anyone she supposedly held close to her, spending time on a cohesive team like the Autobots would definitely help her a lot.

And I think that’s where I’ll wrap it up. I love her concept and I’d like her even more if I chose to keep her evil, but I have to stay true to young me’s vision and redeem her. Either way, I definitely think she’s less Mary Sue now because she always got her way and was friends with everyone. Having her earn people’s trust is a lot better than the “everyone just likes her dude” she was in the story.

Anyways, that’s it for this part of Second Tries. I’d love to know what you guys think!

#oc #original character #transformers #transformers prime #transformer oc #oc rewrite #Second Tries

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jo-the-schmo · 6 years

Text

Traveling...Ch.4

Chapter 3

A/N: Yeeeet! First chapter of December!

Wordcount: 1868

Warnings: Just language and being sad this time.

Tags: @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demigod-runner-who-potter @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @lexannani @pinkyiger7 @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandom-panda-221 @hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-51 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic@robotic-space @tayahqr @asprinkleofmermaids @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism @okie-dokie-artichokeme @pandartist @apandawithcookies @kitcatgirl2016

Traveling in Secret

Dear scraped paper I stole from Alex,

I guess this is my first entry since everything I had worked on before technically doesn’t exist anymore? This is all getting more confusing by the second. It’s been about a week since I showed up here, and it seems that my calculations were a bit off. We’re still about two weeks or so away from when Lee is supposed to ride out ahead. No wonder everyone has been suspicious of me, I was giving out information that was only referenced by five people. They haven’t even finished the full idea yet and I tell them I know about it. If I didn’t have to be careful before, I sure as hell do now. I’m trapped in the most influential part of American history. The actual start of the country. This is going to be difficult. Things have also been a bit tense between me and Alex recently. Every night, he’s been trying to keep tabs on me. I know that he wants to know what happened, but I don’t think I can tell him. I don’t think I can tell anyone, at least I don’t want to. But I appreciate that he hasn’t told anyone else. It’s just not something I talk about, not anymore. I feel like I’m breaking just thinking about it. I think out of everyone, Alex would understand the most. This entry will have to be short, I have a lot of work to do.

I sigh, clutching my head in my head in my hands. For now, you were put in charge of organizing everything. You kept tabs on what people were doing, what they needed, and if we even had it. Basically, you were Mama’s personal assistant. If you weren’t sitting at this desk and going through papers, you were doing errands with Mama. No one calls her by her real name, you’re not even sure if anyone knows her real name. She’s just Mama. But that didn’t bother you, after all, is that not what you’re doing? Just as you were having that thought, you saw a splotch of dark blue in the sea of black forms coming towards you.

“Oh, Mr. Laurens, what are you doing here?” Honestly, you felt a bit uncomfortable around John. It wasn’t his fault, he was extremely kind. It was more of how he looked that got to you, as bad as that sounds.

“Mama asked me to make sure you take a break, and I can’t tell her no.” He smiled at you and gesture for you to follow him. “So, take a break with me.” Say no, you are allowed to say no, you aren’t obligated to do this!

“Thank you, a break is probably needed.” God damnit! Anxiety, why do you do this to me?! You reluctantly stand up from your seat, following close behind since it was impossible to walk side by side. When the two of you exited the tent, you were relieved to see that it was cloudy. The heat has been the worst about this, everyone else has even been saying it’s unusually hot as well. You picked up the pace a bit to walk next to John. He looks so much like Philip…

“Who’s Philip?” He asked curiously. WHY DO I KEEP DOING THAT?!

“Uh! No one, just an old friend of mine!” Is that why I get uncomfortable around him? John’s eyebrows furrow but he shrugs.

“So, Miss Titania-“

“I told you to call me Titania, Miss is too formal.” You corrected.

“Well, then you can’t call me Mr. Laurens. It’s just Laurens.” He retorted. You held in a laugh, you didn’t expect that from him.

“That sounded like sass, Mama would be very disappointed!” He smirked at your joke.

“What are you going to do? Tell on me?”

“No, I’m not a snitch.” John went silent for a moment.

“So, this is what you are truly like?” He asked, you didn’t exactly get what he meant.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, forgive me. That must have sounded rude. I just, have not gotten the chance to be around you, I was unsure of your personality.”

“I see, is that why you asked me to have my break with you?” You stopped walking. John scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Yes, well, that’s one of my reasons…” He chuckled, you raised an eyebrow.

“And what’s the other reason?” You questioned, crossing your arms. John’s eyes widened, as if he just remembered something.

“Right! I almost forgot!” He reached his hand inside his jacket, soon pulling something out. It was wrapped in a white cloth, so you couldn’t tell what it was. “This is for you.” He held it out and you took it reluctantly. You took an inquisitive look at it before unwrapping the cloth.

“It’s…a piece of bread.” You were oddly surprised.

“You and Alex are pretty similar. When he gets focused on something, he forgets to take care of himself. He’ll get so distracted that he won’t even realize that he’s hungry. I do this for him all the time!” He admitted. Is he really that nice? Now I feel bad…

“Laurens! We need a bit of help over here!” A voice called out from a few yards away. John nodded, dipping his head down apologetically.

“I am afraid my break must be cut short. Perhaps I’ll run into you at supper?” Before you could answer, the voice cawed once more, asking for John to hurry. With a roll of his eyes, he turned and began to head towards the man. “Goodbye for now, Titania.” He waved, his curls bouncing behind him.

“Bye…” You mumbled, looking back down at the bread. You tried to take a bite, assuming it would be impossible since all the bread here is as hard as a rock. To your astonishment, the bread was easy to bite into. It’s soft…and it tastes good?! You didn’t realize how hungry you were. You ended up scarfing down bread quickly. But then you had a second of realization. If he didn’t get that from here, then where did it come from? Suddenly, an arm linked with yours.

“Wh-“

“There is no time, Titania! The General wishes to see you immediately!” It was Alex, dragging you by the arm, to Washington’s tent.

“Wait! Wait! Alex! I’m not ready! Noooooo!” Alex shushed you before you came too close to the tent. He let go of you once you reached the entrance, motioning for you to go first. Taking a deep gasp of air, you took a step inside. He looked up from his desk, a map in front of him. You felt oddly guilty for breaking his concentration.

“Ah, Miss Taylor, please, sit down.” You looked behind you, you expected Alex to come in with you but he either left or was waiting outside.

“Yes sir.” You took a seat in a chair in front of his desk, you felt like you were in the principal’s office. “Is something wrong, sir? You haven’t called me in before…” He sensed your nervousness and quickly reassured you.

“Do not worry, I’m just going to ask you some questions.” NO! MY WORST FEAR! You tried to swallow your fears. He stood up, walking around you. This is an interrogation, I know what these look like… “When you first arrived, you told Colonel Laurens and Alexander that you knew of top secret plans that hadn’t left this very tent…how is it that you came upon such information.” God damnit! What do I say?!

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” Way to be vague, Y/N! George’s eyes narrowed, urging you to continue. “I overheard it!” Good start!

“From who?”

“Y-You?” Today is not my day! A mixture of surprise, concern, and amazement poured into his pupils. “The day I talked to Laurens and Alex…wasn’t the first time I was here. I overheard you discussing the concept originally.” This is risky, but it’s all I’ve got right now…

“A spy.” He stated.

“Wh-What are you-“

“I’m talking about you.” His voice wasn’t cold, more analytical, focused. But you were panicking.

“No! I swear! I’m not a spy! I wou-“ He held up his hand to signal for you to be quiet.

“I believe you.” Wait…didn’t he just say I was a spy?! “I’m a General, I wouldn’t risk the safety of my army just for a random woman who appeared out of thin air. I was suspicious of you from the beginning.” Of…course he was… “That being said, you’re clearly no longer in league with the red coats-“

“But how do you know that?” Honestly, you were tired of some of this shit going on today.

“I’ve had Mama keep close tabs on you, she personally requested it. On top of that, you don’t fit the mold of an active spy. And I know because we have one here with us that I also had help me with this endeavor.” Hercules Mulligan…That sly bitch! “Spies lay low, don’t get involved, don’t cause a scene. They would never try to break into our ranks without joining first. They also wouldn’t make the scene as dramatic. And most importantly, they wouldn’t get as close as you have.” Close? “A spy will silently work their way through the day, avoiding making attachments. You, have been nothing but trusting. You go out of your way to prove yourself. You have exceptional skills on top of that. I may not agree with the crown, but they are not idiots. No way in hell they would send a wealthy woman to become a spy in this manner.” That’s right, woman were usually used as mistresses acquire information…on top of that, they’d never let a woman with a sliver of power taste freedom during this period. It would have been democratic suicide. “So that leaves one option…” The whole time, he had been walking around you, but now he came to a sudden stop to look down at you. “It was your idea to become a spy…what I can’t figure out is why.” It was a statement but you knew it was a question. Okay, you can do this. Just go with it.

“I was threatened. They were planning on killing me. It was the only thing I could come up with to let them spare me.”

“What was your crime?” He asked, not missing a beat.

“Being the daughter of a traitor.” You took a deep breath. “My father, he openly degraded the kingship. He was rallying protests in the streets. He was caught and…” These stories get harder to tell the longer I’m here… George nodded, he seemed to understand enough from what you were saying. And the few stray tears dancing off your lashes weren’t exactly incriminating you.

“You needn’t say anymore. Unfortunately, I cannot simply let you go with this information.”

“Wait! Please, I-“

“Let me finish. However, I can still make a deal with you.” A deal? “I will allow you continue your work here, as you clearly wish to do. On one condition…”

“And what is this condition?”

“You give us all the information you have on the British’s plans.”

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trainsinanime · 6 years

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RWBY Volume 5 Episode 12

That was a good episode. Except for the part where it ended on several cliffhangers, but that’s not unexpected and they’re good cliffhangers. I have some (spoilery) thoughts on that, not all of them original.

First of, I see a lot of posts that go „RIP Vernal“. That is weird, because Vernal didn’t die. It’s true that she did collapse and that she may have a Cinder-caused hole in her body, but this very same episode also canonically established that this doesn’t have to be fatal. I’m not going to say she’s definitely not going to die in the future, but that doesn’t mean that she’s dead.

It is possible that she may need help from Jaune. Seems like everyone was correct on the healing semblance. Some people are also arguing that it might just be an Aura recharging semblance, which makes perfect sense. I don’t think that the difference matters all that much at this point. What I will say is that Ruby taking his hands off of Weiss, then telling him to keep doing what he was doing, is just strange but also in some way oddly charming. I think what they were going for is Ruby looking at the wound.

Would Jaune save Vernal if necessary? I’m kind of leaning yes. Vernal is slightly antagonistic, but the only thing that comes close to „evil“ was fighting Weiss on Raven’s orders. That’s considerably less than Ilia did, and she was allowed to join team good without any trouble. It’s also interesting that if you tilt your head juuuuust right, Vernal can be kind of seen as another sister to Yang and Ruby (there’s also nothing contradicting a head canon that she’s actually their sister, but nothing really supporting it either). I’m not sure many people will see it that way, but I do think Ruby „I have a stump speech about the power of friendship“ Rose just might. Or at least I can’t imagine her denying kindness to Vernal, no matter how angry Ruby is right now.

Angry Ruby! That’s a new development, and I’m looking forward to what this means. I’m a bit surprised, to be honest, because we seem to be heading to the next phase of the fight: Our heroes are coordinated, fighting together, and Ruby’s plan explicitly gives everyone someone to protect or support, but not a specific enemy. That lays all the groundwork for making the next fight one that team RNJR-WY can win. That difference from the earlier uncoordinated „pick one to hit them really hard“ fight of episode 11 is crucial and something I’m really looking forward to. I just kind of expected this to happen only once Blake arrived. But I guess this will be a finale with a lot of stages.

One part I’m really looking forward to is the Maiden-off. Raven as the Spring Maiden? Count me among the „never would have guessed“ masses. This opens so many possibilities, questions and theories, and the only thing I will say for sure is that the fallout of that reveal will take more than the remainder of this volume to process.

I’m thinking about whether Vernal knew that she’s not actually the spring maiden. I think so, and the story makes a lot more sense that way, but it would be an amazing twist if she didn’t.

The main obvious question that comes up here is: Since when is Raven the Spring Maiden, how did she become it, and did it have anything to do with her decision to abandon her team, her husband and her child and start living in the woods again? Then there’s the question of whether that means Yang is destined to inherit the Spring powers - personally I would have always picked her as more of a Summer person. But then Summer is Ruby’s mom, and the question of whether she was a Maiden (and if so, whether she chose her first name herself) appears. Either way, though, some tie between Maiden powers/duties and disappointment in Ozpin seems like a good bet.

The real figurehead for disappointment in Ozpin appears to be Hazel, though, and it’s interesting how he voices a lot of the common fandom criticism of Ozpin. He’s not the only one, of course, Ironwood already complained at length about being kept in the dark. But Hazel explicitly questions the morality of super-powered child soldiers. I can already see the outlines of the counter-argument forming, in Oscar’s speech and in how Ruby acts. So I don’t think we’ll get a deeper investigation of this, just a very heartfelt speech about making the choice to stand up for what is right.

(Part of me wonders whether Hazel’s sister died on her first day because she didn’t have a proper landing strategy. If yes, then I would argue that Hazel’s anger is entirely justified.)

This episode also hinted that Oscar’s ethos is more influenced by Ruby’s attitude than by Ozpin’s, which is a nice touch. It’s in general fascinating to see Ruby’s leadership position: Most of the time it’s purely nominal (Team RWBY is entirely democratic in almost all situations), but in times of crisis she seems to get it almost by default, regardless of appointment. This isn’t new, it’s how she defeated the Nevermore, but it’s always nice to see in action. Note how she clearly and explicitly got the leadership over Team RNJR here. When Oscar calls for Ruby to wake up and that they need her, it’s not (only?) because of feelings that make the Rosegarden shippers squee, it’s because she’s the leader of the team and the emotional source of strength for all of them, and a huge influence on him. To me that’s more interesting than any shipping, to be honest.

Going forward, I wonder how this will play out. Team RWBY’s end-of-season ratio is so far one success in a minor operation where most weren’t even involved (Volume 1), failure (Volume 2), big failure (Volume 3) and nothing much happening (Volume 4). I can’t imagine this one going entirely positively for our heroes, especially since there is too much stuff that needs more time to develop. E.g. while it seems like Yang, Blake and Adam will all meet here, it’s seems very unlikely that they will already resolve their issues (by brutally murdering Adam if I had my way). On the other hand, they have too many heroes on hand and too much character development for a Volume 3-like total failure. So as a wild guess: What if it is possible to destroy the relics? What if RAB already took it? What end goal do the good guys even have, here, other than „keep the relic where it is“, which is probably not going to be an option? Difficult and interesting questions. I’m looking forward to next week.

#rwby #rwby5 #rwby spoilers #rwby5 spoilers #thoughts i had on the a3 autobahn

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jouissezduprintemps · 7 years

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Operation Horror Movie (Part 2/2)

Rating: T - Swearing Words: 3428 Fandom: Naruto Summary: Sequel to Short Attention Span. After Hinata successfully spends time with Naruto, the kunoichi are determined to make it happen again.

Part One

Temari walked down the street, a stack of rented movies in her hand. The best way to go about choosing the movie would be a democratic vote; while everyone might not like the movie, at least their frustration would be on the majority rather than directed at Temari herself for choosing poorly. It was a constant learning process when she spent time in Konoha. She sometimes felt as drained as she did that one time when Kankuro kept himself awake for thirty-six hours. To quote Ino, it could be ‘a lot’.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Shikamaru snapped his fingers in front of her face. She swatted away his hand. “You okay?” he asked, shaking his stinging hand.

“Fine. I’m just trying to think of how to get through this with as little trouble as possible.”

Shikamaru stopped walking, and Temari turned back to see why. He studied her face as he asked, “Why are you doing all this?”

Temari paused, trying to think of a valid response. If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t entirely sure. “Hinata’s a good person. I think she could do a helluva lot better than Naruto, but if it makes her happy…” she shrugged.

He smirked in a way that made her skin crawl. Leaning forward, he extended his index finger and poked her shoulder; it was a rare moment when he knew he wouldn’t face retaliation for being snide. “You’re getting attached.”

“So? I’m here so damned much, I might as well make some friends. Sometimes I want to do more than play shogi.”

“We do more than that.”

“Or watch the clouds and smoke.”

“Don’t make this into a fight.”

“I’m not, but I also want to do something different every now and then. As much as I like what we do, you have to admit, it can be nice to be around people who are higher-energy.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Shikamaru looked up at the sky. “But I still don’t know why you’re letting everyone over.”

“I’m taking one for the team,” Temari admitted. “It’s not like anyone’s parents would want that many of us over. It’s just easier.”

“You know this means that people will know where you stay when you’re here, right?”

Temari grimaced, and Shikamaru chuckled at the look on her face. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around before walking again. “If you’re not careful, people are going to start thinking that you’re nice.”

“That’s not hard to fix.” Temari lifted the curtain that hung over the entryway to their next destination.

The pair approached the counter, where Temari turned to Shikamaru. “What did you put the food under?”

“Nara,” Shimakaru informed the employee, who disappeared into the back. When he reappeared, he had two large bags in his arms. He set them down, and Temari pulled out her wallet to pay. When she looked back up, he was gone.

“How much did you order?” she asked incredulously, eyes widening by a fraction.

“Enough to feed all of us, plus Choji and Kiba.”

Temari grabbed him by the wrist and turned his hand palm-up before handing him her wallet. “I don’t want to know how much this cost. Just use the money in the back pocket.”

The employee returned, this time carrying two more bags. Temari paled, worried that he would go back for more. To her relief, he stayed at the counter. She did her best to ignore the exchange at the counter, busying herself by reading a flier taped to the wall, which advertised the release of the latest Icha Icha movie adaptation.

“Little help?”

She turned to the counter, where Shikmaru was struggling with the load. She took one of the bags from him, and he could steady the rest. Once they were back on the street, Temari hesitated before asking, “Just tell me: is there any money left in my travel fund?”

“A little.”

Temari flinched. “How little?”

“Let’s just say that your highness isn’t going to be living the royal lifestyle.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I was being serious.”

“Every time you use a title or honorific you sound like you’re insulting me.”

“Not all the time.” Shikamaru frowned.

As they rounded the corner of the apartment building, they saw Ino sitting at the top of the steps. Shikamaru and Temari exchanged a glance before approaching the staircase. When Ino noticed them, her head shot up and her face brightened. “There you are!”

“You’re early,” Temari commented, stating the obvious.

“Really early.” Shikamaru looked at his teammate with suspicious eyes.

Ino took the bag from Temari so she could open the door, at which point she shot back, “What, am I interrupting?”

Shikamaru sighed and walked past her, setting the bags down on the table. “Are you coming in, or what?” he asked as he removed his flak vest.

Still not sure if she was welcome, Ino stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “I thought I’d come early and help set up.”

“There’s not a whole lot to set up,” Temari mused. “Shikamaru was going to move the coffee table, but there’s not much else we can do with limited space.”

“There should be a futon in the bedroom closet,” Shikamaru pointed out as he moved the table out of the way. “It’ll fit if we move the chairs back by the couch.”

“I’ve got it!” Ino exclaimed, happy to be of use. It was weird how she was feeling like a third wheel, and she didn’t understand it. She resisted the temptation to poke around Temari’s room and headed straight for the closet, focusing on her mission. The futon was cumbersome, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She set it down on the living room floor with a ‘fwump,’ rather pleased with herself. A glance at the clock told her it was fifty after six; in retrospect, she was glad that Temari and Shikamaru hadn’t been there when she arrived twenty minutes ago. Talk about a social faux pas.

Relief washed over her when there was a knock at the door, announcing Sakura and Hinata’s arrival. Hinata looked like a scared fawn, and Ino pulled her to the couch, spouting reassurances.

“I told him that everyone was coming here to watch a movie, and the only thing he texted back was ‘ok,’” Hinata rambled anxiously. “Did any of you hear from him? Maybe you, Shikamaru?”

“Nah. I don’t use my cellphone for that kind of stuff,” Shikamaru shrugged.

Temari sat a glass down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “For the love of God, Nara, no one cares about your personal crap. If your technology was compromised, and if they cared enough to look through your texts and emails, they’re not gonna find anything.”

“No, they wouldn’t, because I don’t use it.”

“For a genius, you’re really fucking stupid.”

“Shikamaru, do you really not use text or email?” Ino asked hesitantly, looking at her teammate with skepticism.

“This isn’t about me,” Shikamaru snapped, trying to divert the conversation. “We were talking about Naruto. No, Hinata, I haven’t talked to him.” Behind his back, Temari answered Ino’s question with a dramatic shake of her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sakura assured Hinata, patting her hand. “It’s Naruto. The fact that he texted you back at all is a good sign.”

“What about Naruto?” Choji asked, taking advantage of the door Hinata and Sakura had forgotten to close.

“He didn’t respond to a text that asked if he was coming,” Ino clarified.

“Yeah, he’s really bad at that,” Choji mused, unintentionally lifting Hinata’s spirits. The conversation was forgotten when he saw the bags of takeout on the table.

Tenten peered around the doorway into the apartment, rapping her knuckles against the door before entering, a very reluctant Neji in tow. “I hope you don’t mind that I asked Neji to join us.” Tenten smiled, realizing that she should have asked first.

“It’s fine,” Shikamaru answered, to Temari’s annoyance. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Neji; she thought that Shikamaru was presumptuous to give a response for her. “I didn’t think you were into movies, Neji.”

“I’m not,” he admitted when Tenten left his side to speak to Hinata. “But, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“It’ll be fun,” Choji assured him with a pat on the shoulder.

A large, white dog bolted through the doorway and jumped on Hinata, bathing her in licks. Temari watched on in disbelief as Hinata laughed, allowing this to happen.

Kiba brought the dog. No one asked me if he could bring the dog. There’s a dog on my couch. She was pulled from her thoughts when Shikamaru sighed, looking at the figure standing over the threshold.

“Kiba, what’s Akamaru doing here?”

“He wanted to come, too,” Kiba explained like it was completely natural. “He loves scary movies.” A sharp whistle caught the ninja hound’s attention, and he obediently put all four paws on the ground. His tail beat heavily against the side of the couch.

“Man, you know you’ve gotta ask-” Shikamaru cut himself off when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Naruto. The yellow-haired ninja was clad in a vibrant set of pyjamas.

“Umm, Naruto?” Sakura probed hesitantly. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s movie night, right? I thought this was a pyjama thing.” Naruto shrugged as he kicked off his shoes. “I don’t know why you guys are wearing your everyday clothes.”

“But aren’t you scared of horror movies?” Sakura pressed, looking at him warily.

“Me? What? No.” Naruto scoffed and stood a little taller. “I’m a shinobi! Like I’d be scared of some stupid movie.”

“Oh, my god,” Ino whispered to herself. This wasn’t just a plan gone wrong. It was a plan that was taken out back and shot with 100 senbon. It was a massacre, and there was no way to save it.

“So what’re we watching?” Naruto demanded as he threw himself down on the futon.

A silent exchange passed between Shikamaru and Temari. Neither of them had planned on this. It was so unlikely that they hadn’t bothered. Taking his cue, Shikamaru picked up the stack of movies and walked into the living room. “Well, we got a few, so we’ll have to vote.”

“Double feature!” Kiba suggested, and Akamaru barked his agreement.

Ino shuffled across the floor, panic in her eyes. “What do we do?” she hissed through clenched teeth, tugging on Temari’s sleeve.

“Nothing.” She saw that Ino needed more explanation. “We have no way of controlling him now that he’s here. He won’t leave with Hinata, and we can’t guarantee that he’ll even acknowledge her. We did this so that she wouldn’t have to worry about getting his attention on her own.”

“I know,” Ino lamented. “But what about Hinata?”

Before Temari could answer, Sai knocked on the open door, offering a smile. He was dressed in a set of pyjamas more outrageously printed than Naruto’s.

“Sai? What are you wearing?” Ino gaped, having never seen him in a color that wasn’t black.

“Naruto lent them to me. He said to wear pyjamas, but I don’t own any.”

Ino shot an accusing glance at Sakura, who mouthed ‘what am I supposed to do about it?’

“Sai!” Naruto exclaimed, waving him over. “Come on, we’re gonna vote on the first movie!”

First? Temari fought to keep from groaning aloud. Shikamaru had tried to tell her that she didn’t know what she’d done by inviting them over, but she assumed he was being dramatic because he didn’t want to put in the effort. Well, if she couldn’t beat them… “I’m going to put on some sweats,” she informed her guests as she walked to her bedroom. “Ino, Sakura, Tenten, Hinata? Do you want to borrow some?” Her eyes told them to come with her, and they all picked up her signal. Temari shut the door behind them before whispering, “What the hell?”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Sakura growled quietly.

Tenten turned sympathetically to Hinata. “It’s okay if you want to go home. I know you don’t like these movies. I’m sorry Naruto’s such an idiot.”

“It’s okay.” Hinata focused on the string pull on her jacket. “I’m just sorry you went through so much trouble.”

“It’s not your fault,” Temari reassured her. “I should have planned for this.”

“Please. Even Shikamaru was surprised,” Ino countered. “There was no planning for him to be a complete dumbass.”

Temari rifled through her drawers, searching for comfortable clothing. “If we go back out there dressed like this, they’re going to get suspicious. Here.” She pulled out some loose-fitting bottoms and handed them to Ino and Tenten, who would fit in them the best; she was worried that Sakura’s slighter hips wouldn’t keep them up. Sakura was handed a pair of drawstring shorts, which she could take in as much as she needed. For herself, she kept her favorite lounge pants.

“Pick whatever shirt you like,” Temari offered, pulling out the drawer above. She took first pick, opting for her favorite tanktop, before letting her friends rifle through. She had just undone her obi when she heard Ino say her name.

“Umm, Tema?” Ino held up a well-worn, faded tee-shirt that she had found. The fabric was soft from wear, and she hadn’t noticed anything odd about it until she unfolded it. She held the back toward Temari, her fingertip tapping the washed-out symbol of the Nara clan just below the collar.

The color drained from Temari’s face. She had borrowed that shirt years ago, and she’d hung onto it because it was comfortable. That was why. They’d buy that, right?

Ino snorted at the look Temari was giving her, and Sakura laughed outright.

“Stop it,” Tenten scolded, taking the shirt from Ino.

“Come on, let me wear it. I want to see Shikamaru’s face,” Ino insisted.

Tenten hid it behind her back and narrowed her eyes. “We’re not here to meddle with Temari’s love life. We’re here to meddle with Hinata’s.”

“It’s not like everyone here hasn’t figured it out,” Ino protested with a frown. “I just wanted to have some fun.”

“Leave them alone, Ino.” Sakura withdrew another shirt and shoved it against her friend’s chest. “Don’t make me play the Sai card, because I will.”

“Whatever.” Ino took the shirt she had been handed. She would have plenty of time to mess with her teammate later on, after Temari left.

Temari pulled the wraps from her hair and shared a glance with Hinata, who gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Hurry up, already!” Naruto shouted as he knocked on the bedroom door.

Sakura opened the door and glared at him in a way that sent a chill down his spine. Naruto glanced past her, having noticed that Hinata hadn’t taken the same liberties as everyone else. “You know, if you want to go home and change, we’ll wait.”

Hinata shook her head, slipping out the door. “I think I’m just going to go home,” she admitted, feeling awkward.

“Well, I mean, if you want to.” The disappointment in Naruto’s voice was clear.

She looked down at her feet, mumbling “I guess I could stay.”

“Yeah, get over here, Hinata!” Kiba shouted. “Don’t worry, Akamaru won’t let you get scared!”

“Come on.” Naruto placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her over to the living room.

Thinking ahead, Sakura lay claim to the smaller chair. She knew that Naruto would sit with her if given the chance. With her move, the scramble began for the best viewing spaces.

Neji claimed a seat on the couch and looked ready to fight anyone who tried to take it. He’d grabbed Tenten’s wrist in the fray and pulled her with him, earning her the second seat. Sai had already been sitting on the couch, suspecting that this might happen. He beckoned Ino to join him; it would be a bit of a squeeze for four, but not anything uncomfortable.

Shikamaru had taken the large, plush chair for himself.

“Move,” Temari told him, and he gave her a strange look. “Move over,” she repeated, and he obliged, confused by her instigation of physical proximity.

This left Choji and Kiba on the floor, along with Naruto and Hinata. Choji had been preoccupied with the food, and Naruto and Kiba were too focused on getting Hinata to stay. None of them were pleased with the result, but they had no one to blame but themselves.

“So, what did you pick?” Ino asked when Kiba put the movie in.

“Presumed Dead. It’s some reanimation, zombie thing.” Shikamaru shrugged. “It sounds pretty cheesy, but hey, majority rules.”

The film itself was, from the very beginning, gratuitous in every way. It became clear that Hinata did not like body horror. Her face was buried in Naruto’s shoulder, trying to trap out even the light on the screen. Naruto sat ramrod straight, like he was watching a train wreck. He couldn’t look away even though he wanted to.

Kiba lay on his stomach, completely dedicated to the movie. He’d tried yelling at the screen, but Tenten pelted him with a chopstick with alarming accuracy. She’d made him get up and bring it back to her, adding insult to injury.

Sakura watched, almost bored. She’d been a medical ninja for years now; after working in a hospital, nothing was quite as scary anymore. Sai was also unfazed, although his detachment came from an entirely different training. Ino had grabbed his knee when she jumped at a pop scare, and her fingers were digging into his skin. She was unaware of it, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Tenten was riveted, repeatedly telling Neji to focus on the movie. Neji was feeling sick to his stomach, and although he tried to look out the window and avoid the film, there were only so many times a man could take a punch to the shoulder.

Temari had twisted around in the chair so that her back rested against Shikamaru’s side, her legs thrown over one of the arm rests. Both of them kept gesturing at the television and whispering in harsh tones as they critiqued the movie and the poorly-written protagonists.

As time went on, they became invested in the film. The plot was at least somewhat compelling, and the series of plot twists kept them on their toes. Even Hinata had started watching.

Unable to get his master’s attention, Akamaru let out a loud, sharp bark. Ino shot clean off the couch and over the back. Neji seemed frozen in place, whereas Hinata swayed and fell back on the futon. Naruto was on his feet, trying to hide his terror by being aggressive. Once their hearts stopped pounding, Kiba snapped, “Damn it, Akamaru!”

“Your dog’s an asshole!” Naruto shouted, glaring at his friend.

“Oh yeah? Well, screw you. He just needs to go out.” Kiba stood and walked to the door, stopping to scratch Akamaru’s head. “I’m sorry, boy. I should have realized.”

Tenten started to laugh at the absurdity of it all, which snapped Neji back to reality. Sai turned in his seat and leaned over the back of the couch. “You can come out now, beautiful.”

Trying to maintain some of her dignity, Ino stood and walked around the couch to take her seat. Sakura couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s mildly disheveled appearance.

“Damn, woman,” Shikamaru grumbled, prying Temari’s hand from on top of his. She’d left fingernail marks in his skin. “What’d I do?”

“C’mon, Hinata,” Naruto urged as he helped her sit back up, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Hinata put a hand to her head. “I’m okay.”

“God, you people are dramatic,” Kiba complained once he opened the door. Akamaru let out an apologetic whimper when Naruto and Ino glared daggers at him. Kiba stalked back to his spot and sat down in a huff before pressing play on the movie again.

Ino abandoned watching the movie, instead noticing that Naruto hadn’t bothered to move his arm. She cheered internally when Hinata found the courage to rest her head on his shoulder. She leaned over Sai and tapped Sakura, gesturing to the miracle. Tenten caught on and made Neji get Shikamaru’s attention, then gestured for him to make Temari look. With a tap against her leg and a point, he succeeded in showing her what Tenten wanted.

Ino leaned in so that she could whisper to Sakura. “This is a helluva lot better than ramen!”

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