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surviveanyemergency · 2 years

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I find it astounding that almost everything in Western culture points to the life of Jesus.

One of the things that surprises me the most is how much our culture points to Jesus. From paintings, sculptures, and music to architecture, everything seems to speak of Jesus' story. I often think it's no coincidence that so many fantastic works of Western civilization were created during the Renaissance--a time when Europe rediscovered its Christian roots. Our culture seems to be trying to tell us something all along: that Jesus is the key to understanding who we are and what we're meant to become.

How Western Culture Points to Jesus

Jesus has been a central figure in shaping Western thought and culture for thousands of years. His influence can be seen in modern society, where He's profoundly influenced the art and literature from the Renaissance. Even up to the present day, Jesus' history continues to play an important role in our culture, shaping it for the better. Here are just a few examples:

Christmastime is usually a time of celebration, which can range from joy to sadness depending on the individual.

There is a democratic tradition that exists in Western societies. Early Christians, like Augustine of Hippo, championed it because they believed it would allow everyone to have a say in the way they were governed.

Yesterday's news articles all relied on the principle that all humans are created equal and deserve dignity and respect.

Many of the world's greatest artists, writers and musicians have been inspired by their faith to create pieces that show religious themes or come from the Bible.

Churches have always been an important part of many people's lives, providing a sense of community and support while teaching participants about Christianity's rich history and culture.

"Jesus of Nazareth and other parts of the world"

No man has had as much influence on the course of history than Jesus of Nazareth. Born in humble circumstances, he was raised in the backwoods of Galilee and worked as a carpenter until he was about 30 years old. At that point, for reasons which are not fully understood, he embarked on a public career as a preacher and miracle worker. However, during only three years, his following grew from a few dozen followers to a movement with dozens of thousands!

Why were people so interested in Jesus? Certainly not for his looks. He was average looking, nothing special. And his messages were simple and straightforward- love God, and love one another. What was the fascination with him then?

It was Jesus' integrity that led him to do the right thing and be completely dedicated in his mission. Even when it meant he had to sacrifice his life, he never wavered or turned out any other way.

It's possible it was His compassion. At a time in which society marginalized the poor, the sick and the outcast, Jesus reached out to them with love and understanding. He showed us that everyone is precious in the eyes of God.

It's undeniable that Jesus changed the world. His teachings have shaped our laws and morality, and his life gave hope to people who are hurting. Two thousand years after his death, he continues to speak to us through people's lives who continue to live according to his teachings.

The influence of Jesus in the arts

In the Western world, it is nearly impossible to overstate the influence of Jesus in the arts. From the great cathedrals and paintings of the Renaissance to modern masterpieces like The Passion of the Christ, the life and message of Jesus has inspired some of the most significant works of art in history.

By the time they were done painting, even secular artists like Leonardo da Vinci were not able to help but be influenced by Jesus. His most famous paintings, The Last Supper, offers themes of sacrifice and redemption that continue to resonate with viewers today.

Known for its profound artistic impact, the life of Jesus continues to inspire many people. As we confront our own mortality and look for meaning in a sometimes frustrating world, it is no wonder that we turn to the one who represents hope, love, and salvation--Jesus.

This paper discusses Jesus's influence on philosophy and thought.

It's impossible to overstate how influential Jesus has been throughout history. It's important to understand the impact he had on philosophy and thought, inspiring some of the greatest minds in Western culture. His example continues to challenge and shape the way we think about the world today.

Jesus was a man who lived in a very specific time and place, but his message is universal. He spoke about love, forgiveness, compassion and hope. These messages are just as important today as they were two thousand years ago. His teachings have been interpreted in myriad ways throughout the centuries, but the core message remains the same: We should treat others with kindness and respect, no matter who they are or what they have done.

In addition to his philosophical impact, Jesus also had a profound effect on the development of Western art, literature, and music. For centuries, artists have used their work to express their religious beliefs. Many of them were moved by the life of Jesus. Michelangelo’s Pietà or Handel’s Messiah are just two examples of an artist's faith in Jesus inspiring their work.

One way to see the Bible's influence is in literature. This influential book has been retold countless times through different mediums, which makes it one of the best-selling books ever. The New Testament story of Julius Caesar influenced William Shakespeare heavily during his writing career. Other great writers like John Milton and C.S. Lewis have also been influenced by the Bible--especially their writings on Christian themes, such as "Paradise Lost" and "The Chronicles of Narnia."

Following the legacy of Jesus in literature

It's amazing how many of the greatest works of Western literature reference the life of Jesus. From epic poems by Homer and Virgil to plays by Shakespeare and Moliere, from King Arthur stories to Russian novels, from Dante and Milton's poems to Dostoevsky - so much of Western literature is tied to Jesus.

In each work there are elements that reflect some aspect of Jesus's life or teachings. For example, we see his heroic self-sacrifice in Achilles' willingness to fight even though he knows he will die; his compassion in Aeneas' care for his wounded friend; and his forgiveness in Prospero's willingness to forgive those who have wronged him.

This is just a small example of how pervasive Jesus' legacy has been. The impact he had on Western literature is unbelievable. It's a testament to how important he is to our culture and society today.

Jesus and Christianity in Western culture

Jesus, the "original rockstar," has been an enduring fascination of Western culture. From art, literature, and music to food and architecture, there's a rich legacy that can be seen all around us today thanks to his life and his teachings centuries ago.

Christianity has been one of the most influential religions in Western society. With over 1.2 billion followers worldwide, Christianity is the largest faith on Earth. There are an estimated 175 million Christians in America alone, and though it has originated from Western culture, Christianity has dramatically shaped every aspect of Western life—especially our values and beliefs.

Jesus has had a significant impact on Western art and literature. Some of the most memorable pieces of art and fiction in history are based on his life and teachings. All throughout history, artists have been inspired by Jesus, who's been an ongoing source of inspiration for writers as well.

The influences of Christ are seen in both Western music and architecture. Some of the most great composers, musicians, and architects were undoubtedly influenced by Jesus while creating their pieces because they are so beautiful. Architecture is a big part of this too: many of the most stunning buildings on earth were inspired by Jesus himself.

The influence of Jesus on Western culture cannot be denied. He shaped our values and beliefs, influenced art and literature, and impacted music and architecture. We owe a lot of what we are to his legacy.

I hope this article has been of some use to you.

My conclusion is that, in nearly every work of literature and art, people have pointed to the life of Jesus. From great architecture and music to inspiring lectures, Christianity has a profound impact on Western society. His teachings have influenced our morals and attitudes, leading us to be better people. I am grateful for all Christian contributions to our world, and I hope we can continue to learn from him.

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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Representing China’s diversity

@hewwo-god-its-me asked:

Hi! I’m Chinese-Canadian, creating a secondary fantasy world completely based off of China and coded as such. (Don’t worry, I know China is a huge country with a vast amount of regional and temporal variation throughout dynasties; I have been doing/will be doing more research so as not to conflate these.) I’m not sure my question has an easy answer, but I think my question sort of extends into the creation of any secondary fantasy world heavily based off of real-world countries (hopefully!). Though media has popularized a particular “type” of Chinese person, in reality, China is a lot more diverse than “pale-skinned, black-haired”, and DOES have migrants from other parts of the world, including other people of color who aren’t Chinese. I want to reflect this diversity, since it seems disingenuous, inaccurate, and downright offensive to say that “X people do not exist at all”, especially since my story will take place in a time period analogous to our “modern” today. However, since my world is coded as Chinese, with the various cultures that exist taking inspiration from (and sometimes, almost wholesale being aspects of) real-life Chinese culture, I’m worried that, in this case, in trying to reflect this diversity, it will come across as assimilation/erasing their own cultural identities. Sorry!! I might just be totally overthinking this, but I’ve been thinking myself in circles about this for a long time now, and being Chinese myself, I thought it would be important to ask how other people of color would feel about this, and am totally open to discussion on the topic!

Han Chinese are the majority group in China forming approximately 90% of the population. They are the majority all over China and originate from northern China.

I recently found out I was Hmong, so I will talk somewhat about minorities in China. There are 55 recognized minority groups in China, and Hmong is one of them. The Hmong have generally darker skin than the Han Chinese majority and mainly reside in southern China. They are also present more so in southeast Asia, but even there, they are still a minority and heavily persecuted because of American interference and the use of them as spies against communism during the Vietnam War in Laos. Many Hmong immigrated to the United States as a result. Because of Chinese imperialism, a lot of minority groups are suppressed. There’s also the Manchu, who founded the Qing Dynasty.

Perhaps you should focus on a couple of cultural groups in China but have it mentioned several times that there are even more groups different than the ones focused on.

–Mod Sci

So I would also like to note that even within Han people, there can be a range of skin tones. I’m Han myself and while I’m currently pale, I’ve been quite tan before when I was out and about in the sun as a kid, and my brother is also much darker than the rest of our immediate family. When my mom was telling me about growing up in Taiwan, I got the impression that tan skin was the default, as one of her friends stood out for being pale among everyone else. From what I remember, pale among Han Chinese is not necessarily the default; there were definitely darker-skinned kids in my Chinese school, and having pale skin was probably more the exception than the norm.

–Mod Jess

I think it’d be incredibly difficult to cover every single cultural group of China but at the same time, obviously a singular pan-Chinese identity doesn’t exist as you’ve mentioned. During worldbuilding (while it is important to clearly code your groups), make it clear that these aren’t indicative of every group that exists in real life; The representation that you cover within the span of your story isn’t exhaustive and cultures exist outside of the main cast.

I think the biggest thing you should remember when doing this is that the media in the West usually doesn’t try to go beyond a single, homogenized Chinese identity. Even within Chinese diasporic circles, I haven’t seen too many attempts to go beyond just “Chinese”, which isn’t horrible because our cultures are super mixed! However, like I said, there’s a lack of exploration of China’s diversity.

Speaking from a Chinese-Singaporean/Taiwanese/Vietnamese/Indonesian standpoint, representation of Chinese diaspora from other East Asian and Southeast Asian nations isn’t something I see a lot of, either! Ethnic Chinese people live in Singapore, Hong Kong, the Philippines… and although I don’t like taking space from those who are marginalized by us in these places, we do exist outside of China and our cultures are influenced by other Asians as well.

Sci gave a great list of identities above that I haven’t seen much representation of above. I think that if you’re even taking a small step like this towards showing the diversity of China, you’re doing a lot already!

–Mod Em

Firstly, I recommend reading about the mummies of Urumqi in Xinjiang, and their importance to Uyghur identity.

Secondly, I recommend that you study Chinese history in depth, particularly:

The Silk Road

The Yuan dynasty (i.e. Mongols)

The treasure ship diplomatic trade missions of the Ming dynasty.

The Silk Road on its own resulted in regular interactions between many ethnic groups bound by trade, including many Central Asian Turkic nomadic and landed populations (of which the Uyghurs are a part).

The Han are the majority ethnic group now and have arguably always been the supermajority (Depending on who you talk to), but to what degree this has been the case will vary from dynasty to dynasty up until the end of the Qing dynasty with the Manchus in the 20th century. Pay particular attention to when dynasties emerge and fall and which ethnic groups are mentioned when this happens. I think you will be surprised by what you find. Thoroughly studying a country’s history is generally the best way to fully appreciate its diversity.

- Marika.

#China #Chinese #ownvoices #representation #Diversity #recommendations #book recommendations #resources #Chinese history #asks #submission

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rebelontheroad · 4 years

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MICHELLE OBAMA FULL SPEECH (Dem Convention)

«Good evening, everyone. It’s a hard time, and everyone’s feeling it in different ways. And I know a lot of folks are reluctant to tune into a political convention right now or to politics in general. Believe me, I get that. But I am here tonight because I love this country with all my heart, and it pains me to see so many people hurting.

I’ve met so many of you. I’ve heard your stories. And through you, I have seen this country’s promise. And thanks to so many who came before me, thanks to their toil and sweat and blood, I’ve been able to live that promise myself.

That’s the story of America. All those folks who sacrificed and overcame so much in their own times because they wanted something more, something better for their kids.

There’s a lot of beauty in that story. There’s a lot of pain in it, too, a lot of struggle and injustice and work left to do. And who we choose as our president in this election will determine whether or not we honor that struggle and chip away at that injustice and keep alive the very possibility of finishing that work.

I am one of a handful of people living today who have seen firsthand the immense weight and awesome power of the presidency. And let me once again tell you this: The job is hard. It requires clearheaded judgment, a mastery of complex and competing issues, a devotion to facts and history, a moral compass, and an ability to listen — and an abiding belief that each of the 330,000,000 lives in this country has meaning and worth.

A president’s words have the power to move markets. They can start wars or broker peace. They can summon our better angels or awaken our worst instincts. You simply cannot fake your way through this job.

As I’ve said before, being president doesn’t change who you are; it reveals who you are. Well, a presidential election can reveal who we are, too. And four years ago, too many people chose to believe that their votes didn’t matter. Maybe they were fed up. Maybe they thought the outcome wouldn’t be close. Maybe the barriers felt too steep. Whatever the reason, in the end, those choices sent someone to the Oval Office who lost the national popular vote by nearly 3,000,000 votes.

In one of the states that determined the outcome, the winning margin averaged out to just two votes per precinct — two votes. And we’ve all been living with the consequences.

When my husband left office with Joe Biden at his side, we had a record-breaking stretch of job creation. We’d secured the right to health care for 20,000,000 people. We were respected around the world, rallying our allies to confront climate change. And our leaders had worked hand-in-hand with scientists to help prevent an Ebola outbreak from becoming a global pandemic.

Four years later, the state of this nation is very different. More than 150,000 people have died, and our economy is in shambles because of a virus that this president downplayed for too long. It has left millions of people jobless. Too many have lost their health care; too many are struggling to take care of basic necessities like food and rent; too many communities have been left in the lurch to grapple with whether and how to open our schools safely. Internationally, we’ve turned our back, not just on agreements forged by my husband, but on alliances championed by presidents like Reagan and Eisenhower.

And here at home, as George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and a never-ending list of innocent people of color continue to be murdered, stating the simple fact that a Black life matters is still met with derision from the nation’s highest office.

Because whenever we look to this White House for some leadership or consolation or any semblance of steadiness, what we get instead is chaos, division, and a total and utter lack of empathy.

Empathy: that’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. The ability to walk in someone else’s shoes; the recognition that someone else’s experience has value, too. Most of us practice this without a second thought. If we see someone suffering or struggling, we don’t stand in judgment. We reach out because, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” It is not a hard concept to grasp. It’s what we teach our children.

And like so many of you, Barack and I have tried our best to instill in our girls a strong moral foundation to carry forward the values that our parents and grandparents poured into us. But right now, kids in this country are seeing what happens when we stop requiring empathy of one another. They’re looking around wondering if we’ve been lying to them this whole time about who we are and what we truly value.

They see people shouting in grocery stores, unwilling to wear a mask to keep us all safe. They see people calling the police on folks minding their own business just because of the color of their skin. They see an entitlement that says only certain people belong here, that greed is good, and winning is everything because as long as you come out on top, it doesn’t matter what happens to everyone else. And they see what happens when that lack of empathy is ginned up into outright disdain.

They see our leaders labeling fellow citizens enemies of the state while emboldening torch-bearing white supremacists. They watch in horror as children are torn from their families and thrown into cages, and pepper spray and rubber bullets are used on peaceful protesters for a photo op.

Sadly, this is the America that is on display for the next generation. A nation that’s underperforming not simply on matters of policy but on matters of character. And that’s not just disappointing; it’s downright infuriating, because I know the goodness and the grace that is out there in households and neighborhoods all across this nation.

And I know that regardless of our race, age, religion, or politics, when we close out the noise and the fear and truly open our hearts, we know that what’s going on in this country is just not right. This is not who we want to be.

So what do we do now? What’s our strategy? Over the past four years, a lot of people have asked me, “When others are going so low, does going high still really work?” My answer: going high is the only thing that works, because when we go low, when we use those same tactics of degrading and dehumanizing others, we just become part of the ugly noise that’s drowning out everything else. We degrade ourselves. We degrade the very causes for which we fight.

But let’s be clear: going high does not mean putting on a smile and saying nice things when confronted by viciousness and cruelty. Going high means taking the harder path. It means scraping and clawing our way to that mountain top. Going high means standing fierce against hatred while remembering that we are one nation under God, and if we want to survive, we’ve got to find a way to live together and work together across our differences.

And going high means unlocking the shackles of lies and mistrust with the only thing that can truly set us free: the cold, hard truth.

So let me be as honest and clear as I possibly can. Donald Trump is the wrong president for our country. He has had more than enough time to prove that he can do the job, but he is clearly in over his head. He cannot meet this moment. He simply cannot be who we need him to be for us. It is what it is.

Now, I understand that my message won’t be heard by some people. We live in a nation that is deeply divided, and I am a Black woman speaking at the Democratic Convention. But enough of you know me by now. You know that I tell you exactly what I’m feeling. You know I hate politics. But you also know that I care about this nation. You know how much I care about all of our children.

So if you take one thing from my words tonight, it is this: if you think things cannot possibly get worse, trust me, they can; and they will if we don’t make a change in this election. If we have any hope of ending this chaos, we have got to vote for Joe Biden like our lives depend on it.

I know Joe. He is a profoundly decent man, guided by faith. He was a terrific vice president. He knows what it takes to rescue an economy, beat back a pandemic, and lead our country. And he listens. He will tell the truth and trust science. He will make smart plans and manage a good team. And he will govern as someone who’s lived a life that the rest of us can recognize.

When he was a kid, Joe’s father lost his job. When he was a young senator, Joe lost his wife and his baby daughter. And when he was vice president, he lost his beloved son. So Joe knows the anguish of sitting at a table with an empty chair, which is why he gives his time so freely to grieving parents. Joe knows what it’s like to struggle, which is why he gives his personal phone number to kids overcoming a stutter of their own.

His life is a testament to getting back up, and he is going to channel that same grit and passion to pick us all up, to help us heal and guide us forward.

Now, Joe is not perfect. And he’d be the first to tell you that. But there is no perfect candidate, no perfect president. And his ability to learn and grow — we find in that the kind of humility and maturity that so many of us yearn for right now. Because Joe Biden has served this nation his entire life without ever losing sight of who he is; but more than that, he has never lost sight of who we are, all of us.

Joe Biden wants all of our kids to go to a good school, see a doctor when they’re sick, live on a healthy planet. And he’s got plans to make all of that happen. Joe Biden wants all of our kids, no matter what they look like, to be able to walk out the door without worrying about being harassed or arrested or killed. He wants all of our kids to be able to go to a movie or a math class without being afraid of getting shot. He wants all our kids to grow up with leaders who won’t just serve themselves and their wealthy peers but will provide a safety net for people facing hard times.

And if we want a chance to pursue any of these goals, any of these most basic requirements for a functioning society, we have to vote for Joe Biden in numbers that cannot be ignored. Because right now, folks who know they cannot win fair and square at the ballot box are doing everything they can to stop us from voting. They’re closing down polling places in minority neighborhoods. They’re purging voter rolls. They’re sending people out to intimidate voters, and they’re lying about the security of our ballots. These tactics are not new.

But this is not the time to withhold our votes in protest or play games with candidates who have no chance of winning. We have got to vote like we did in 2008 and 2012. We’ve got to show up with the same level of passion and hope for Joe Biden. We’ve got to vote early, in person if we can. We’ve got to request our mail-in ballots right now, tonight, and send them back immediately and follow-up to make sure they’re received. And then, make sure our friends and families do the same.

We have got to grab our comfortable shoes, put on our masks, pack a brown bag dinner and maybe breakfast too, because we’ve got to be willing to stand in line all night if we have to.

Look, we have already sacrificed so much this year. So many of you are already going that extra mile. Even when you’re exhausted, you’re mustering up unimaginable courage to put on those scrubs and give our loved ones a fighting chance. Even when you’re anxious, you’re delivering those packages, stocking those shelves, and doing all that essential work so that all of us can keep moving forward.

Even when it all feels so overwhelming, working parents are somehow piecing it all together without child care. Teachers are getting creative so that our kids can still learn and grow. Our young people are desperately fighting to pursue their dreams.

And when the horrors of systemic racism shook our country and our consciences, millions of Americans of every age, every background rose up to march for each other, crying out for justice and progress.

This is who we still are: compassionate, resilient, decent people whose fortunes are bound up with one another. And it is well past time for our leaders to once again reflect our truth.

So, it is up to us to add our voices and our votes to the course of history, echoing heroes like John Lewis who said, “When you see something that is not right, you must say something. You must do something.” That is the truest form of empathy: not just feeling, but doing; not just for ourselves or our kids, but for everyone, for all our kids.

And if we want to keep the possibility of progress alive in our time, if we want to be able to look our children in the eye after this election, we have got to reassert our place in American history. And we have got to do everything we can to elect my friend, Joe Biden, as the next president of the United States.

Thank you all. God bless.»

Michelle Obama

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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The Oncoming Storm Part 16: The Road Ahead

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Here we go! Yay! I'm excited for the decision you guys made and worked on planning it out last night. Looking forward to some more Kung Lao followed by some delightful Liu Kang, followed by some shenanigans- and then the big choice. Then the fic will split and change names depending on who you wish to follow. I also have two more new fics on the way. I'm still sorting out the notes for those. One will be Liu, the other Lao. Lao's will be very action oriented and Liu's will be a bit more psychological. Hope you are all having a fantastic Monday! Much love and thanks for reading!

Part 15 Part 17 Chapter Index

You mulled over the decision but not for long. It wasn’t a difficult one. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t do it how you’re suggesting.” You shrugged. Kung Lao adjusted behind you. You were still weary but felt stronger as time passed, though marginally so. “If Kung Lao is excited about going to Japan, then he can come with me to Japan.” Just to prove that you could, you sat upright though you felt the weight of your body was still a bit too much for you. Kung Lao placed his hand on your lower back to help support you without drawing any attention to your wobbliness. You were very appreciative of his discretion. Every movement you made that was off, sent Liu Kang’s blood pressure through the roof. “And if Liu Kang is familiar with Huangshan, then that will give us a leg up there. We could use any advantage we can find. If I remember correctly, the Yellow Mountains are huge.”

Liu Kang nodded to confirm that it was true. You didn’t remember much about Huangshan other than what you had read about in school. From the little you did remember you were grateful to have a guide so you wouldn’t have to hike for days to search for an obscure point hidden amongst the rocks.

“Then it is decided.” Raiden looked to you for confirmation and you nodded.

“For the record, I promise that I’m not just excited about Japan and the festival. I’ve spent some time there so I’m familiar with getting around. Not specifically Mount Osore, of course but some familiarity is better than none.” Kung Lao then leaned closer to you and whispered with a grin in Japanese. “I’ll make sure that we’re both safe.” You smiled fondly. You spoke enough Japanese to get by. Your mother had grown up in Chiba and had spoken it often in your youth. You weren’t practiced and would likely be barely conversational but could get by better than most. You’d always wanted to go to Japan. This was a funny way to go about achieving that dream. Honestly, you’d never left home other than a few trips to Vietnam to take your students to competitions.

“Your trip will give me time to do a bit of research in Huangshan. I’ll do my best to see what I can find out before you meet me there.”

You urged Kung Lao’s hand away from your lower back and scooted away from his lap where he’d held you. Liu Kang, still crouched nearby, reached for your hand, and urged his fingers to your wrist to check for a pulse. You sighed and watched as Kung Lao tried not to laugh at your frustration. You waited patiently for Liu to get what he needed but when he didn’t let go, you decided to swat his hand away.

He smiled and turned his gaze, aware that he had lingered for much longer than necessary. The air in Raiden’s chamber was stifling. Between the haze of magic that you’d cooked up and being somewhat sandwiched between two of your favorite people, you could barely breathe. You were suddenly ecstatic to spend some time away from Raiden’s Temple. Not that you didn’t appreciate it. You did! But it would be nice to see the rest of the world. Yours had shrunk from your hometown to this temple and even though it was technically bigger than your hometown it was also out of time, in a way.

“We can head out as soon as Lord Raiden is ready to send us off.” Kung Lao seemed excited. “Right?”

“Immediately?” Liu objected.

“Why not? What are we waiting on, you think?”

“Do you really think that it’s the best idea to leave right this second, Kung Lao? Y/N just had a vision last night. And after what we just witnessed she can barely sit upright.” Liu Kang counted the reasons on his fingers. “Not to mention that I’m burnt out. I need rest.”

“Wow, the pun.”

“…not intended.” Liu considered and seemed pleased.

“Bull.” You teased and Kung Lao laughed and offered you a high five which you reciprocated. Liu rolled his eyes at them both with a heavy sigh.

“Joking aside, wouldn’t it be wise to take a day and be better prepared?”

“That seems like a waste of time.”

“There’s plenty to do today, Kung Lao. Find a place to stay while we’re there. Food. Clothing. Timing. Research where and how to approach this…” Liu counted the reasons again on his fingers.

“I…” You began.

“We can figure that out just as easily when we get to where we’re going.”

“And what if we’re attacked?”

“You really think that something’s going to hunt us the moment we arrive?”

“I don’t think-“ You tried again.

“Not the moment we arrive but we have to consider the possibility considering the way that voice spoke and what Lord Raiden saw.”

You decided to tune them out as they argued. Considering it was about you and your trip you were a little annoyed that they were talking as though you were not there in the room to help decide. You could feel Lord Raiden’s piercing gaze on you as if he were curious to see how you would handle being talked over.

“Listen, boys, your both pretty,” you spoke loud enough to interrupt them. Liu Kang and Kung Lao silenced, looking to you with wide eyes. “And you both make valid points but I’m making the decision. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I need a chance to rest and prepare. And no, I’m not making this decision on either of your recommendations. This is what I think is best. I know that I’m too tired to do what needs to be done there today.” You scolded them but did so with a smile. It felt nice to be listened to. “This is my quest and you will follow my lead. Got it? I won’t be talked over and steam rolled by you two.”

“Got it loud and clear.” Kung Lao smirked. “I like take charge Y/N. She’s fun.”

Liu Kang on the other hand still looked incredibly worried. “Yes, of course. I’ll follow where you lead, Y/N.”

Raiden stepped closer and you could see the hint of a smile on his face. You were glad that you’d taken his silent encouragement to interrupt the two brothers. “Tomorrow morning you will meet me here and I will send you on your way.” He then turned to Kung Lao and offered him a look that was also a warning. “Remember, this is important.” Liu Kang narrowed his eyes at his brother as if to warn the same thing. You couldn’t hide your curiosity as to why that was. You would absolutely be asking about it later. What kind of trouble was Kung Lao know for getting into exactly?

“You two worry too much. I’m taking this very seriously.”

“When you are finished in Japan then Kung Lao will call me.” Raiden addressed you without further explanation. “I will return him here and send you to meet with Liu Kang in Huangshan.” How exactly would Kung Lao call upon him? You supposed that he was a god, so there was probably some unspoken magic. You’d make a point to ask Kung Lao about that later, too. It would be easier than asking Raiden. He really was intimidating.

“Will do.” Kung Lao smiled and Liu Kang nodded his agreement.

“I’m going to stop by the infirmary to get checked out now. Just in case. I don’t remember any of what went on here, but I can feel how tired I am.” You were nervous to try and stand on your own, but you also didn’t want to feel anyone else’s worry that day. You’d had enough from Liu the other night. You found his worry sweet, but also a little excessive. Liu Kang seemed surprised and impressed that you were going there on your own without him twisting your arm. Before he could say anything, Kung Lao had jumped to his feet.

“I’ll walk you there.” He offered you a hand. You rejected it and stood on your own, just to prove that you could, even if you hadn’t been positive that you could. It had been worth the effort it turned out, even if your legs were wobbly. Kung Lao had a way of making you wish to prove that you could do things beyond what you thought you were capable of. Even so, he offered his arm, unbothered that you’d ignored his hand. You took it. Your body was exhausted, after all. At least your neck had decided to continue supporting your head. You’d been through a lot lately and were grateful that your body listened to you at all.

“I’ll check in on you later.” Liu assured you and you smiled.

“See you then. Raiden? Thank you.” You bowed politely to them both and Raiden silently acknowledged your gratitude with a bow of his own. There was more that you’d wanted to say to Liu Kang, but Kung Lao was already leading you out of the room. You’d have time to talk to him later. You stole a glance over your shoulder and found him watching you go. Usually when you caught him staring, he would avert his eyes and go about his business but this time he offered you a knowing smile that made your heart flutter. Then he went to speak with Lord Raiden.

Kung Lao led you down the long hallway and around the corner. You pulled from his arm and leaned heavily against the wall once out of sight of Raiden’s chamber. With an exasperated noise, you let your full weight rest against the wall and caught your breath that you’d practically been holding. Your whole body was sore as if you’d worked out far beyond your limit. “I need a second.”

Kung Lao laughed and stood before you, amused. “Exhausted, huh?”

“So exhausted.” You swatted his hand as he reached for you and then whined as he urged his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the wall. You continued like that toward the stairs. He supported most of your weight but didn’t drag you or hurry you too quickly. “Thanks, Lao.”

“No problem, Y/N. Figured you needed an out and a little help to get it. Liu was radiating with worry. Kinda knew you were trying to save face especially after your cute little speech.” He teased but you were grateful that instead of making you sit and breathe, he was just dragging you along like it was no big deal. You did kind of want to lay down and sleep for a year though.

“He worries about me a bit too much, I think. I don’t want him to stress over me. Thank you for helping me do that and not just picking me up like I’m an invalid.”

“I get it. Happy to help.” He shrugged. “Definitely thought about picking you up and doing just that but you seemed particularly defiant after your episode, there.”

“I am feeling particularly defiant.”

“I can tell. And those dragons, Y/N, well, I’m impressed.”

“…how long was I out like that, by the way?”

“Oh, a long while. About an hour, I’d say.”

“An hour?” You gasped, stopping your walk and pulling a bit away from him, just so you could turn to face him. “Raiden and Liu had to keep all that back for that long?” What the hell? You could barely summon an ink jian yesterday and had made dragons, a vortex, and a throne for an hour while you were unconscious!

“Who’s worrying now?”

“No wonder he’s burnt out, Kung Lao! No wonder my body hates me.” You shook out your fingers. They were tingling on and off with numbness. Kung Lao urged you onward.

“Don’t feel bad about it, Y/N. It was awesome.” Kung Lao was beaming with pride. His smile was just like it had been when you were kids, but it suited him better now- with just the slightest hint of dimples and the cutest little wrinkle on his chin.

“It was terrifying. My body did all that without me.”

“When you can control it then you’ll change your tune.”

“Probably but still!” You weren’t sure that you would ever be able to control it to that extent at this point. Honestly, you were still perturbed that it had happened in the first place. Your body and arcana doing things without your permission, speaking in other voices? It was spooky and not in a fun Halloween sort of way. More of in a possessed-by-demons way.

“When we get to Japan, we’ll stop and pick something up to wear to the festival. Probably yukata? Going to look into the appropriate garb.” Kung Lao was apparently done talking about that now.

“You have no idea how much I long for new clothing.”

“Oh? But why?” Kung Lao looked you over while you walked. You were steadier as you went, less losing your footing and wobbling. His grip had relaxed on you, but he still kept his arm around you just in case. Probably. “You’re very cute in the hanfu.”

“Yeah, well your fancy Raiden’s Temple clothing is easier to function in. I need jeans, Kung Lao. Jeans and comfortable shirts! These are pretty but they’re a little too delicate for me. I certainly can’t fight in them. I’m not delicate. You know that.”

“I do. All too well.”

You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let go of you. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. I get it. Still like the hanfu though.”

“Where did you get all yours, anyway?” You tugged on the jade ring on his belt. You loved what he wore. It was as though it had been personally tailored just for him. He smirked.

“You earn cool clothing with great power, Y/N. Someday you’ll earn your own too.”

“That’s a dumb answer.” You rolled your eyes at him. The trip to the infirmary was just about over and you were grateful for his conversation along the way. Your legs were tired of carrying your body around. Once inside, you waved at Chen who was across the room and surrounded by boxes. Chen smiled at you and held up a finger as if to tell you that she’d be with you in a moment.

You escaped Kung Lao’s arms and turned instead to face him. He folded his arms over his chest and smiled down at you. “Kind of feels like we’re in one of those movies we used to watch at your Grandma’s.” He sounded amused.

“Like Disciples of the 36thChamber?” You recalled one of your favorites. You had nearly destroyed the old VHS tape that your Grandma had recorded it on for you. You’d fast forward through the commercials, seated way too close to the television.

“Or Police Story.”

You smiled fondly in remembrance. Those were some of your happiest memories. You’d spent hours watching your Grandma’s tapes and then you’d go outside and pretend that you were skilled enough to be part of them. You’d held onto those memories tighter than most because he had died. It was still amazing to you that he was there and alive. You really should have talked about it but now wasn’t the time. When would it be though? “I’m not sure that what we’re about to do is going to be anything like those movies but I am pretty excited to remember what the rest of the planet looks like outside of this temple.”

“It’s a healthy reminder. Grounding. This place can be all consuming and a little overwhelming.” You were surprised to find that he understood the idea better than you had expected him to. Kung Lao was very much full of surprises. “Do you need me to stick around or are you okay down here on your own? I don’t love this place. Bad memories. Besides, I’ve got a dozen things to do before the day’s over and we’re on our way to Japan.”

“Oh? Is that so? You were pretty adamant that we leave immediately.” You teased.

“Does that mean you don’t want me to leave? Is that what you’re getting at?” He grinned, eyes sparkling in amusement. His whole face lit up when he smiled. It was remarkable.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just calling your bluff.”

“What bluff?”

“Boy, you can be frustrating.” You shoved his shoulder and he pretended to be pushed back and then smiled.

“Really though, can I go?”

“Go, Kung Lao. I’m fine here. Chen will help me if I need it.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed and then walked backwards toward the doorway into the hall. “But if you need me then just send someone to find me.”

“Just go!” You laughed and as you turned away, you heard a crash behind you, as though Kung Lao had knocked something over while walking backwards. You did your best to resist looking backwards so that he could save face, but you laughed anyway. Then you took a seat against the far wall of the infirmary, waiting near where Chen was working. Moments later, Chen took the seat next to you with a smile. She looked tired but still happy to see you.

“I noticed that it wasn’t Liu Kang who brought you here today. And that Kung Lao was fully clothed.”

“…do you think that I’m strategically permanently disrobing them or something? I told you what happened this morning.” You furrowed your brow in sincere confusion at the accusation.

“One could hope. Perhaps I gave you too much credit.” Chen laughed and folded her hands neatly in her lap. You sat then in silence for a moment. “Are you here to gush more about Liu or…?”

“Or what? I’m actually here for medical reasons as I so frequently am? Since I have never once ever come to you just to gossip? Especially gossip about myself?”

“Or you could be here to talk about that dopey smile Kung Lao had on and the fact that he knocked over a whole stand of medical supplies on his way out. Or that he was in the infirmary willingly again. I can count the number of times he’s been here on one hand. At least before you got here. And those times were dragged in bloody and beaten.” You didn’t like the mental image of him bloody and beaten.

“You’re the most ridiculous gossip I have ever met.” You whispered in an accusatory tone.

“I know!” She shouted and you held your face in your hands and laughed. Chen had a way of making you smile more than anyone ever had. “Besides, you can do both those things while here. Gossip and the medical stuff. It’s called multitasking, Y/N.”

“I’m leaving for a few days on an errand. Wanted to check in before I go. Today was a lot too and I’m feeling particularly drained.”

Chen frowned.

You felt instantly slighted and turned your gaze to the floor. You were capable. Everyone worried about you, but you’d be fine. You knew this was scary and you kept repeating Raiden’s warning of death in your head, but you could do this. You would fight until your last breath.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Everyone looks at me like that, Chen. I’m fine.” That wasn’t true, you supposed. Kung Lao didn’t often look at you like that. Even as kids he hadn’t.

“Do you want me to list all the reasons that’s a lie? Because I could. I won’t and since you probably have to do this, I’ll send you with extra supplies just in case.” Chen shook her upset away and mustered optimism for your sake. You were grateful. “Are you going with Liu Kang? And more importantly, will you get to have any fun with Liu Kang? Or Kung Lao? I’m not picky at this point. Both very good looking.”

You ignored the gossipy remark and instead explained your vision that morning and very vaguely touched on where you had to go and what you had to do. You weren’t sure how much you should share so you were careful to leave out the most important details. To be honest, you had no idea what you expected to find in either place but it felt good to have a purpose that you knew you could achieve. You very briefly touched on the disturbing incident with Lord Raiden but avoided most of the messy details. You’d been dead unconscious through it, anyway. Chen’s face flickered back and forth between worry and trying to keep a smile up for you. You supposed you couldn’t blame Chen.

“Well, then I’ll make you a little kit to travel with.” Chen patted your shoulder and stood, setting about shoving supplies into a portable first aid kit nearby. She was filling it with the basics but also small bottles of pills and several syringes. She then set about writing instructions for how to use each of them. You were almost certain that you wouldn’t need any of it but were still grateful. “Just in case. Better to have it and not need it then need it and not have it.” She closed the small case and then handed it to you where you placed it in your lap. Then she took both of your hands and sat next to you.

“Thank you, Chen.”

“It’s no problem. This one though? This is a personal prescription given to you by your friend and doctor. Please. Please, I’m begging you. Get drunk. Make some stupid, immature mistakes with one or both of those men. Please? For me? I’m begging. Literally.”

“Ch… I… what?” You stuttered and felt your face burning again. You thought you’d gotten past that today. “Did you not hear the whole part about ancient sacred objects hidden away by a demon creature that I have to find? Or… were you not listening?”

“Oh, no, I heard you. But please… also do the other thing. You can do both. Really. I mean that in every way you can interpret it.” Chen let go of your hands and then tapped the medical kit. “Also, glance over the notes I wrote for you just in case you do need any of this stuff.”

“Oh my God, Chen.” You laughed, leaning your head back against the wall behind your chair. “…thank you for bringing some levity to all this.”

“Thank you for bringing me such delicious gossip all the time.”

You rolled your eyes but still smiled. You were grateful to have Chen looking out for your well-being both physically and mentally. It was so easy to get lost in the haze that was Liu Kang and Kung Lao but with Chen’s constant teasing and joking, it helped you from getting consumed by it. “Would you walk me back to my room by any chance? Not so great on my feet today.”

“Sure, but I’m going to tease you the entire time about Liu Kang being half naked in your room first thing this morning. Still not completely convinced that he was just being comforting unless that word had changed its meaning since I learned it. You kids these days and your slang.”

“Could you possibly keep your voice down?” You stood, slipping the medical kit under your arm.

“It’s fine, Y/N. Everyone in here knows already.”

“I-Chen! What?” You were stuttering again. They all knew? You looked around the room and several of the nearby monks nodded to confirm this was true. Your face was on fire again.

“You’re a fool if you think it’s not super obvious or something. In fact, we have a pool going on down here. One of us is going to be much wealthier after you’ve sorted things out.” Chen shrugged. “I am one of the only people voting for both.”

“You are all terrible monks. Every single one of you.” You said very loudly, and the other monks laughed. Some waved as you and Chen made your way out of the infirmary. Others wished you luck on your journey. One even whispered he was betting on Kung Lao. You suddenly felt very exposed. Were you really that obvious? Chen stayed close to you as you walked and steadied you as she needed to. After you were sure you could talk without dying of embarrassment, you couldn’t help but be curious. “…who’s winning this pool?”

“We all agreed that you’re not allowed to know. I’ll tell you much, much later down the road.”

You laughed, again grateful for Chen and how ridiculous she could be. You were exhausted but also excited for the journey ahead. The next morning you’d be meeting with Kung Lao and travel to Japan to a Buddhist shrine inside a caldera. It was enough to look forward to that it would keep you from dwelling on Chen’s teasing and what Raiden had barely touched upon that morning.

If you didn’t get rid of the shadow hanging over you then you weren’t going to live to see Mortal Kombat.

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geekynichelle · 3 years

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So, I saw this tweet, and it started a conversation about the appeal of Harley Quinn, and I wrote this because I was possessed. It’s long so I put it below the cut. All opinions are my own.

Is Harleen Quinzel overrated? Honestly, I don’t know. Nor do I really care. Plenty of people love characters that others find overdone, and that shouldn’t have any bearing on whether or not they are liked on a personal level. You could equally say that Loki or Deadpool are overrated, and while I do believe race plays a role in why all three of these chaos agents are popular, gender is obviously why more people are vocal about finding Harley played out.

Getting that out of the way, let’s dive into the nitty gritty. What the hell is appealing about this clown to a Black, queer and neurodivergent woman? To start I want to bring into play the idea that what Black women do and don’t enjoy is often put in a narrow box. Growing up I knew my mother liked action movies (even more so than my step-dad- huzzah for breaking gender stereotypes), and in her own words the reason for that is that she likes to see “people who deserve it get their ass kicked”. In our real life, society rarely dishes out justice for Black people the way we deserve, and while the action genre is made up of mostly white dudes, who is good and who is bad are clear cut, and we can always root for someone who punches out racists and misogynists. As a result I should have been less surprised that my mother would like Deadpool, but it still amuses me to this day.

Deadpool, in his sequel film, has a moment when he with no hesitation shoots a man who he knows to be a child abuser, because unlike a traditional heroic figure there’s no question in his mind that that was the right thing to do. Whether this would be good in the real world or not is irrelevant because the catharsis comes from the fact that to Deadpool the child harmed mattered way more than anything other factors in that scenario.

This is the appeal of those types of characters in general. Translating this to Harley Quinn in that way is easy. Evil deeds aside, her initial/general backstory is that she was a doctor (of psychology) that fresh out of grad school was sent to talk to the Joker, who in turn manipulated her compassion and convinced her to free him/join him. In the 90s animated series, which is where she first appears, the episode Mad Love shows us that not only was Harley taken advantage of, but also that she is extremely capable on her own. Batman point blank tells the Joker (after he’s hit her/tossed her out a window) that Harley is the only person that’s come that close to killing him. The Joker (who was initially going to leave her for good) realizes that he’s unleashed someone arguably better than him into the world, and like any abuser decides to get back on her good side to maintain control over her chaos rather than let her realize her worth.

The new animated series dedicated just to Quinn, explores that notion further, and at some point during the second season sees Harley realize that she isn’t a hero or a villain, but rather a reactionary. She seems to have a soft spot for other abuse victims and in the series draws the line at over excessive killing, especially of innocent people. Ivy even states that while Harley is a criminal she is (at least in Ivy’s eyes) a good person. She has after all genuinely helped Ivy, and on occasion has helped save the day of her own free will.

Obviously, like with any comic book character, how she is characterized depends on the writer, but it’s fair to say based on the media I’ve personally consumed putting Harley in a morality box is a wasted effort. What makes her special is that she resides in those grey areas. As I mentioned earlier her ability to reside there and remain popular of course relates to her whiteness, however I do think it’s important to remember that Harley Quinn is also Jewish and is therefore not a complete stranger to concepts of oppression. She is also in recent years officially considered Bisexual, and while all Batman villains are vaguely mental ill, she does fill up that category as well.

I came across a tweet earlier today that suggested her whiteness is why many of her fans have turned her into a girlboss and downplayed her violence. I can certainly see where that person was coming from, but on a personal note, based on the above information that is certainly not the case for me. I know that I would enjoy Harley just as much (if not more) if she was a non-white woman, and that her violence and moral ambiguity are apart of what makes her a fun character. I’d never downplay her evil deeds. Granted, what I consider canon has a lot to do with the stories I’ve consumed (i.e I’ve never read anything about her involvement in the Jason Todd storyline therefore to me it doesn’t really exist), but ultimately Harley is no girlboss. She is a mess, and to quote Marie Kondo, “I love mess.”

To put this further in perspective, when I was a kid I didn’t even know Bisexuality was a thing, but I did know that I liked when Harley and Ivy were together, and now as an adult who is out, seeing them officially canon affected me a bit more than I thought it would. They might not be good people, but I don’t think representation needs to always be about being squeaky clean. And ultimately that’s the rub isn’t it? Harley isn’t exactly like me and I’m not exactly like her, but she represents a level of chaos that yeah, as a marginalized person I’m not allowed to express. She can be a good person, but she can also be extremely outrageous. She shows that being the victim of abuse isn’t about how smart you are and that it can happen to anyone. She also shows that you can leave that behind and get stronger mentally and physically. In the case of the new animated series she does this without motherhood/babies thrust upon her, but through good friends who love her.

Why Harley Quinn? Well, for me my current answer is because she’s complex. If you asked me as a child though, I’d probably say it’s because she was goofy and fun, and I wanted better for her than the Joker. Either way she’s currently being written by a Black, Disabled, Queer writer and as a long time fan, I absolutely look forward to the nuisances that’ll be added to the character as a result.

#Harley Quinn #Harleen Quinzel #character analysis #kinda #at least analysis of the characters appeal to me #long post #I only looked over this twice and I've got ADHD so hopefully it's readable

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hopefullystillatheatrestudent · 3 years

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okay so i’ve been going crazy these past few days. all about cockles/jensmish and obsessively watching their panels or reading the transcripts BECAUSE. THEY ARE LOUD. LIKE. i saw some fancams on twt and i thought people were just exaggerating but noooooooooo!!!???? so, getting to the point. you said that how do we know that jensen is performing masculinity? because jared isn’t and THAT IS A BIG BRAIN MOMENT. ON POINT. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. a particular moment from gag reel that jumps out (which you’ve talked about) when jensen goes ‘cas, you are my baby daddy’ and misha goes, ‘i know i love you too’ and jensen goes, ‘i didn’t say i love you’ and misha goes, ‘i know you wanted to’ and jensen says, ‘i love you’ WHAT THE FUCK! that was NOT a joke. yes, people took it as a joke and had a good laugh BUT I HAVE WATCHED IT TOO MANY TIMES AND IT LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE BECAUSE IT WAS NOT A PERFORMANCE. THAT WAS JENSEN. THAT WAS MISHA. jensen has a had trouble with the pda and being all touch feely (the breakup theory) and he gradually grew into it, accepted it and misha was right there all along, never pushed it. it was like a deancas au but tbh, 99% of destiel is because of cockles and we all know it. i just. jensen has latched onto dean as an emotional support because he tunes with it. understands it. projects on to it. yeah, i just had to say it and get it off my chest. (and what about those poetry pages on instagram? alma? what is your opinion?) btw, you have a lovely blog and your analysis are right on target.

so there is a LOT i’m going to address here(how dare you bring up [gunshot] i HAVE to talk about it now) so again!!!! under a cut it goes but i hope you appreciate my rambles anon it seems like you do :,)

1. jared vs. jensen and performing masculinity. hell yeah man. jared and jensen are both just ‘guys from texas’ but they are still so vastly different. today i actually had a revelation that i’m pretty sure has to do with me being bi. and it’s that i have a group of straight friends(that i love dearly but they care too much about hockey and pitbull imo could not be me) and i have a group of queer friends(who are also batshit[affectionate]). and it’s like whichever group i hang out with a different side of me emerges? they’re both me, it’s just that certain aspects of who i am as a person only surface depending on who i am around. however, i will say i feel like i watch what i say around my straight friends more. i see that very clearly in jensen as well. around jared during panels and on set, he’s definitely putting on an air of machismo and engages in typical guy talk. i do think an element of it is performative, because he wants validation from jared that they’re still just two dudes from texas taking on the world together despite his sexual identity. does that make any sense??? i hope so. but when he’s with misha he is an entirely different person and his sense of humour becomes wildly different. the machismo fades away, he’s way less caught up in what people think about him, lets his guard down, etc. to go back to my original point which is how j2 are different in that regard....jared does not do this. he is a constant. he does not flip a switch between ‘performing masculinity’ and ‘not’ because he isn’t performing any part of who he is. he just IS. so yeah these two are similar in many regards but there’s somewhat of a dissonance between them when it comes to how they perform masculinity because one of them is putting on a show and the other is merely being.

2. that crypt scene blooper(here just in case you need to see it again. do it. as a treat.) when i tell you i have easily seen this over thirty times??? since it first came out??? i mean it. it is such an overlooked(r*mantic) moment and it means so much more than people think it does. i’ve talked about the context behind it, and i think that’s why this blooper was so meaningful, so i’ll mention it again. jensen and misha had a LOT of trouble with this scene. the reason is that jensen couldn’t wrap his head around why dean would be saying these things, if i remember correctly, and both of them sat down and scoured over how they should play it for a while before filming(teamwork ;) teammates *ahem*). [to be honest we all know why jensen had a hard time with that scene and it is because it is blatantly romantic. rip to him but i would simply give in to it at that point but oh well] so anyway, their heads were scattered going into shooting, which is NEVER a good headspace to be in for a scene, ESPECIALLY not a pivotal one. but they had each other to help them through said weird energy on set that couldn’t possibly have invoked the best feelings, especially considering jensen STILL doesn’t think he played that correctly(but he praised misha on his performance :,) ). and with that context every single part of that video hits haRD

-’stop pulling my face towards your crotch’ i think this is objectively hilarious because it really really looks like jensen is pulling HIMSELF towards misha’s crotch. again, you’re fooling no one, jensen. misha’s wheezing laugh and the way he wraps himself around jensen is also,,,sweet??? like i don’t know how else to describe how i see it but this moment really reads as jensen, in his weird ‘constructing elaborate rituals’ way is asking for security through a physical touch from misha and he happily obliges and gives jensen what he needs. because i mean...watch it again. jensen ‘fights back’, but not really at all, actually. pretty wimpy counterattack. he literally lets himself be smothered by misha, and i would literally describe what they end up doing as cuddling.

-’i need you, cas. you’re my baby daddy’ i love having an actor’s perspective on things bc i think i can explain what’s going on here. jensen just delivered what was(in his own mind) a rotten take of the lines he’s most scared of delivering. so the scene was already messed up. therefore; ensuing fuckery is warranted to help him feel better. but there’s also for sure more than meets the eye for what he says here because of misha’s reaction after??? like he seemed genuinely touched. first of all, he’s saying ‘you’re my baby daddy’ as half-jensen, but not necessarily dean either(because he didn’t say the previous lines as true to his character...you get it), to misha, not cas. i think i’ve made this point before, but every single innuendo in the gag reels is to misha specifically, never once cas. therefore; logical conclusion: ‘you’re my baby daddy’ was for misha and it meant something deeper than we think because of what follows it

-this part. jensen’s giddy ass smile after he sees misha crack and then misha says ‘yeah, i know’ (can i just say his voice when he says this is so intimate???? like am i intruding guys??? sorry i’ll let myself out) also he is smiling SO BIG

- ‘i know’ ‘why are you laughing?’ ‘no i know i love you too’ this analysis is already so long but i still want to get into what THAT whole exchange means. ‘why are you laughing?’ to me sounds like jensen’s pretending to be affronted by misha laughing at something that is serious. and it’s serious because he quite literally meant ‘i love you’. he did. misha knows it. misha’s really REALLY good at cutting the bs and just getting to what people are actually trying to say. he has an innate sharpness to his sense of humour. so yes, misha is being 100% accurate when he says ‘i know, but you wanted to say it.’ misha isn’t lying here. jensen did want and mean to say ‘i love you’. and then he actually does say it(in a jokey way but not really).

- so yeah. it is actually so romantic??? like in a weird way jensen was professing his love for misha here?????? and that’s why this clip will NEVER. ever. get old.

3. jensen having trouble with pda and projecting onto dean: we can all call ourselves dean coded cas girls but NO one deserves that title more than jensen ackles himself. he is dean winchester but marginally less repressed because he actually did admit he was in love with his best friend and let himself be happy, and pretty early on too. one year and two months as opposed to twelve years. so. happy deancas au is correct. and yes about the pda thing: one day i want to write my own post about both of their body language when it comes to each other, but all i can tell is jensen, even in the early days, couldn’t help himself from flirting with misha, but if misha ever crossed a line, jensen would not be happy. clearly he’s come around, however. what i find sweet is that misha always follows jensen’s lead when it comes to how much affection they’re allowed to show each other onstage. it touches my soul

4. destiel is cockles fault. yeah. and the thing is everyone knows it, too. even non-cockles shippers will explain early destiel as entirely dependant on jensen and misha’s wild chemistry. and that chemistry is easily explained by the fact that misha and jensen are literally just wildly horny bisexuals who were crazily attracted to one another and were falling in love on screen before our very eyes. and when you have THAT insider info(which sounds cray doesn’t it!!!! the destiel actors are in love irl??? huh???) everything really does click into place. why destiel got SO popular when the show and actors never ever intended for it to happen.(i know some people think misha was playing cas as gay the whole time for shits and giggles, and i won’t deny that[especially considering he found out early on that destiel was why he was staying on the show], but i don’t think he really wanted it to amount to anything, nor did he care??? i mean he has the real thing with jensen, for one, so their characters aren’t really as important. for two, he loves joking about destiel because it’s a cultural phenomenon and it’s fascinating, and i’m sure he did ship it because he’s unhinged, but i don’t think it was vastly important to him either way.) destiel got popular because everyone was and is unintentionally reading into the real deal. i could pull up countless gifs that people have used as destiel proof that is actually just jensen and misha being messy. mainly jensen. if i’m being honest. the symbiotic relationship between destiel and cockles is why i’ve stayed onboard the destielcule and shellerscape for three solid months now; because it is utterly fascinating to witness and kind of super beautiful, too.

5. alma(and others). so. i do NOT want to really REALLY get into this in its entirety here and now so i will just give you my opinion on if i think alma is misha or not. also; i don’t want to mention the other poetry accounts here bc i feel like that’s a bigger breach in privacy, but a lot of people do know about alma now. way too many, actually. this is why we can’t have nice things. anyway-to answer your question-there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that yes, misha is running that alma poetry account. i am 100% certain. some people think it’s actually three people and they’re all connected to misha in some way but that is so needlessly complicated. as it goes in psychology; the easiest explanation is probably the right one. it’s just one person running that account, and it is misha collins. i don’t know why it’s so hard to believe KNOWN POET misha collins(who is known to spend most of his free time writing poetry anyway) would have created a secret poetry account to write about his intense secret relationship under an alias and also get legitimate feedback since no one used to know it was him. oh and the handwriting is identical??? you are blind if you do not see that i am sorry. and a million other things prove it’s misha too but yeah all you need to know is yes. it’s him. it would take a literal livestream from a random woman on that account to convince me otherwise. and honestly not even that because a random woman could technically still log in if misha asked her too. so. it would take a hell of a lot to convince me otherwise, clearly. that said DO NOTTTTTTTTTTTT GO ONTO THAT ACCOUNT WITH A SUPERNATURAL RELATED USERNAME AND COMMENT THINGS THAT ARE COCKLES RELATED. ARE YOU BRAIN DEAD WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT’S OKAY. sorry i got heated but god please just don’t be dumb so many people have already gone way too far

6. thank you for your lovely compliment on my analyses!!! i love doing them but i don’t know if people actually like reading them so i really appreciate it

#liz answers #cockles ask #mini analysis #spec #mine

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amostimprobabledream · 3 years

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And He Walks With Flames (Dabi x Reader) - Part One

They say humans, in a strange, ironic twist of fate, owe their magic to demons. A thousand years ago, they walked the earth, wreaking destruction and chaos wherever they tread. Humans were no more than meat for the slaughter, or glorified playthings for their amusement. The first generation of humans to fight back against their monstrous oppressors did so by a peculiar, ancient magic. A power that could repel demons and bring hope to all humanity. A terrible war raged for the fate of the world and the humans managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. The demons were banished to their land of origin, sealed away in defeat. But seals don't last forever. While historians argue on how literal these legends may be, there is no denying that ancient creature have begun to stir, appearing in our world again with growing frequency. And soon there might- The last paragraph was torn away. "Oh, for god's sake," you tsk. Sunlight pours through the large, high window of your lecture room, dust motes dancing in the golden rays. Though you were engrossed in your book, once you look up, the spell is broken, and the clear sky outside once again has your eyes wandering to it. It seems that you are not the only one getting distracted, either - even the professor keeps tapering off at the promise of an afternoon outside in the gorgeous spring weather. "Well," the professor says, shuffling the papers in front of her. "That's all for today. Please revise over the material and we'll discuss it in further detail next time. You are all free to go." You're only too happy to comply, putting your things away and scrambling to your feet. Everyone else is hurrying to get outside, pouring down the stairs to the doors, chattering to one another as they go. Normally you love going to lectures, but it's just too nice outside to be cooped up indoors. You push open the doors and step outside, a muted sigh of pleasure leaving your mouth. Your university, the Royal Academy of Magic, has the reputation for being tough, but so far, you've been enjoying the work. Learning about the different faces of magic, its uses, and the history of it, it's all so very fascinating to you. You've been able to use magic since you were young, but it's studying it here that will really help you unlock your true potential, and hopefully give you a concrete idea of what to aim for with your career. So far there are so many options a magic-user might do that it's been a little overwhelming trying to decide. As you cross the lawns, grass crunching beneath your feet, you decide to swing by your dorm first to drop off your books - they may contain a lot of knowledge, but damn if they're not heavy - your mother pointed out that you've developed something of a slouch since you started studying here. "I'm back!" you call as you push open the door of your dormitory. "Huh?" Kendou looks up from her bed, where she has a couple of books sprawled out next to her head, notes scribbled in the margins of her notebook as she looks over her textbook. Her red hair spills down her shoulder, coming loose from its signature ponytail. "You're back early!" "Yeah, they let us out sooner than I expected," you reply with a shrug and a small laugh, dropping your bag on your own bed and stretching, wincing as a kink in your shoulder pops. "Oh, well, that's good timing, someone came by earlier with a message for you," Kendou says, pushing herself up into a sitting position, apparently deciding your arrival is a good a reason as any to take a break from studying. "Your mother wants you to go down to the Imperial Research Centre to get your father." "Did she come by here?" you ask in surprise. Normally your mother arranges to meet you after lectures or seminars if she wants to see you during the week, and she's a rather busy woman besides. "No, she left a message at the front desk and someone passed it along," Kendou shrugs. "But she also said you guys are doing something tonight, right?" "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten all about that!" you say, feeling silly that it could

possibly have slipped your mind - you love it when you get to go out for a meal with your parents and often it means one of them has some exciting news to share. "Thanks, Kendou, I'll head over there now." She grins and gives a little wave. “No problem!” You suppose it's fortunate that the Imperial Research Centre is only a short walk from the campus and that you're very familiar with the place, since your father's been working there for so long. Anyway, it's a pleasant walk, the way there is lined with rows of trees that are only a week or two away from growing from dark to light pink and shedding their blossoms. When the street is in full bloom, it's like there's been a wedding. You even find yourself humming as you walk, breathing in the subtle smell of flowers on the breeze, wondering to yourself if the blossom trees were planted before or after the buildings were founded, but either way, whoever was responsible for them made a good call. The Imperial Research Centre is a peculiar building, made of blue stone and with a roof that boasts four conical points, one in each corner, making it resemble a castle from bygone days just plopped in the middle of the city. There's an aura of mystery to it, too, hinting at the all-important, life-changing work that’s always going on inside. If ever cutting-edge technology is released to the public, odds were that the Centre had a hand in making it. The building is cooler on the inside than it is outdoors, powered by a system designed to spread cool or warm air throughout the entire building, depending on the system. You approach the front desk, wishing that you'd thought to bring a jacket, because it’s always cold in here during the warm seasons, and the receptionist glances up on you with a slightly dismissive expression on her face. It's probably because she thinks you're an overeager student or some hapless intern, it's very rare a researcher your age would be able to work here. "May I help you?" the receptionist asks in a cool, professional tone. "Yes, I'm here to see my father," you reply. "He's one of the vice executives here." You give his surname, and the woman pauses. Is that a trace of nervousness you can see? "He's downstairs in Containment Room 1A," she says, checking a sheet of paper on the desk, which is littered with various papers, random pieces of stationary and one of those magitech intercom systems that they use. They have something similar at the Academy too, though of course, the Centre get the most high-tech version of everything. "All right, thanks," you say, turning to head for the elevator. "Wait!" the woman cries out and you glance back, confused. "I'm sorry, but you can't just walk through here, especially to the lower levels! You don't have the clearance and it can be dangerous." You scoff in disbelief. You have visited your father here before, many times, and this has never been a problem for you before. You always just tell them who you are and then get a visitor's pass. You even know some of the codes to the doors, thanks to waiting around for your father to finish work so often. "Well, please can you have someone go fetch him for me?" you ask, going to reluctantly perching on one of the chairs in the waiting area. "Can't it wait?" the receptionist asks impatiently, and maybe it can, but her attitude is starting to piss you off, so you shoot her a frosty smile you've perfected after watching your mother pull a similar face at people who don't meet her standards. "No, it can't." The woman sighs but she dutifully presses a button on the intercom system and speaks quietly into it for a moment or two, while you idly pick at a loose thread on the chair you're sitting on. She then glances back at you, eyebrows raised. "A messenger has been sent down to speak to him. Hopefully he should be upstairs shortly." "Thank you so much." you reply sweetly, the last words with heavy emphasis. After that, the two of you sit in a mutually frosty silence, with the woman sorting through paperwork on her desk and occasionally

directing people who approach her desk to the correct floor (which seems redundant to you - why can't people just read the clearly printed sign on the wall next to her desk ?), while you flick through some glossy magazines without actually taking in a single word. But you're not leaving until you've spoken to your father. Minutes tick by and you start drumming your heel lightly on the floor, leg jiggling with impatience. You wonder if the woman just lied about sending a messenger down to the Containment Room in an effort to pacify you, in the hopes you'll just get bored and leave. You grit your jaw at the thought, ignoring how cold you're getting, sitting here doing nothing. After maybe ten minutes, a man in a lab coat approaches the front desk, leaning over to speak to the woman. "Kino, could you come with me a moment? Hannah can start her shift." "Oh, I'll be right there!" Kino says, flustered, getting out from behind the desk and following the man as he walks briskly down the corridor, without a backwards glance at you. No doubt her replacement will be along any moment - perhaps she's running late? But you don't plan on sticking around. As soon as the receptionist rounds the corner, out of sight, you spring up and walk briskly across the room to the elevators, stabbing the button and stepping through the doors. You don't bother to fight the smile that spreads across your face as the doors slide shut. ~ "Father?" There's always something slightly creepy about the lower floors. The orbs lining the walls that are designed to keep the machinery running in case of a power shortage cast an eerie glow in the corridors, washing everything with a pale blue light that makes it seem far colder than it actually is. It reminds you a bit of walking through a tunnel of ice. Your boots click on the stone floor as you follow the lights to Containment Room A1. Finally, you reach the double doors leading inside, flanked by two windows each side. You can see your father inside, his back to you, so you rap on the windows. Nothing. You try again with more force, hurting your knuckles, but he still doesn't turn around. Perhaps it's soundproofed, so whatever's out here can't disturb whatever's going on in there? You glance at the keypad next to the doors, but you've never been to this particular room before so the code for the doors on the upper level is unlikely to be the same one for down here. Then you see movement, shadows beneath the crack between door and floor, and the doors slide open with a mechanical swish and two scientists in lab coats come out, comparing notes and murmuring together excitedly. You slip inside before they can slam shut again, unwilling to stand outside in the chilly corridor for any longer than necessary. "Father!" you call out as you enter. But then you stop dead in your tracks. Ahead of you, trapped behind some kind of containment field...is a monster. "What-?!" you hear your father say in surprise at his daughter suddenly marching through the doors. "What are you doing in here?!" But you don't answer. You can't look away from what's in front of you, even if you wanted to. You know without being told that this is a demon, but it's certainly not what they looked like in any of your history books. A tall, humanoid being that is undoubtedly male and you can tell from where you’re standing that he’s tall. The demon's huge, black wings arch out from behind him, reminding you of a bat. Two horns jut out from a crown of spiky black hair, but aside from that, you're surprised by how… human he looks. Your cheeks warm up as you notice he is shirtless, peculiar burn marks covering over half of his body and seemingly crudely stitched together like a patchwork doll. Despite that, he's impressively sculpted, sinewy muscles on full display and you know that demons were said to be uncommonly strong. Your eyes drift further down, and you spot a whiplike tail wrapped around one leg, topped with a pointed barb at the end, like a club in a game of cards. His arms are in restraints and so are his

ankles, yet he doesn't seem stressed in any way, leaning against the back wall of his holding cell as though he's waiting for something. "What...is this?" you breathe out, finally turning to your father. "This is our latest research subject," your father replies beside you, also staring at the demon, though his expression is surprisingly somber, considering just how amazing it is that they have been able to capture and contain a demon. You've never seen a live demon before, and something tells you that the one before you certainly isn't any garden variety one. "Director Fuji is very excited about this. It's not every day you see a demon this high ranking." Slowly, the demon stirs, raising his head a little. You're perfectly safe outside the containment field, as well was the multiple other safety measures both inside the cell and out of it, yet the sensation of being watched makes your flesh break out in goosebumps. From beneath spiky fronds of hair, the demon's eyes - so blue they almost don't look real - stare right at you, his gaze alone rooting you to the spot, laying all your defenses bare and leaving you feeling bizarrely naked before that look. Watching you without once blinking or breaking his gaze, his lips part in a sneer to reveal two rows of teeth, the fangs sharp and white as an icicle. You find yourself holding your breath as your father speaks again. "Sweetheart, meet Dabi."

#Dabi #My Hero Academia #Dabi x Reader #my hero academia #Touya Todoroki #Boku No Hero Academia #BHNA #Fanfiction #Reader-Insert #F!Reader #Demon AU #Supernatural AU #Writing

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eretzyisrael · 3 years

Text

Israel’s Second Struggle for Independence

The USA has been Israel’s greatest friend and supporter in recent years.

It is also Israel’s biggest problem.

Our dependence on American military aid has sharply limited our freedom of action, distorted our decisions about procurement of weapons, crippled the development of our own military industries, corrupted our decision-makers, and damaged our standing as a sovereign state.

It is true that on some occasions Israel has acted against America’s wishes, such as the bombing of the Iraqi nuclear reactor in 1981. It is also true that far more frequently, Israel has been forced to bow to US demands, even when they are not in her best interests. In several wars and smaller operations, cease-fires have been dictated by American pressure, although Israel would have preferred to continue fighting longer in order to achieve a decisive victory. During the Gulf War, the US prevented Israel from retaliating for Iraqi Scud attacks. In peacetime, US pressure has prevented Israel from building in Judea and Samaria, and forced Israel to accept Palestinian demands for the release of prisoners. American opposition was a major factor in the decision not to attack Iranian nuclear facilities in the 2010-2012 period.

Israel’s relationship with the US has been better or worse depending on the direction of political winds there, but pressure to reverse the outcome of the 1967 war has been a constant ever since – with the notable exception of the Trump administration, which for the first time recognized Israeli rights to Jerusalem and the Golan heights. But now it seems that the US is taking a turn in the other direction; and this time – thanks to Israel’s conclusive loss of the cognitive war for the consciousness of American elites, the partisan division of attitudes toward Israel, and the new strength of the radical Left in American politics – our time in the wilderness may turn out to be much longer than before.

The inroads being made by elements hostile to Israel into the American educational system, previously limited to higher education, but now reaching into high school and even grade school levels, are troubling. The “intersectional” connections being made between every progressive cause, and the politicization of almost every field of endeavor, have injected the issue of Israel vs. the Palestinians into places where it was not found before.

This is a problem, because our enemies – particularly Iran – are taking advantage of the less pro-Israel climate in the US. The Biden Administration, which has already significantly released the pressure on Iran, appears to be galloping toward a full removal of sanctions, whether or not it will gain significant leverage over their nuclear weapons program. Trump’s sanctions had sent the Iranian economy into a tailspin, which helped energize the Iranian opposition to the repressive and backward regime of the Ayatollahs. Even today, Iranians are in the streets protesting against the regime. But the removal of sanctions will not help them; the regime will funnel cash into its nuclear program, into the pro-Iranian militias in Iraq, Yemen, and Syria, and to build up Israel’s most dangerous enemy, Hezbollah.

At the same time, the Biden Administration, which has staffed its echelons dealing with the Middle East with people less than friendly to Israel – including some with a history of anti-Israel activism (see here, here, and here) – has already restored funding to the Palestinian Authority and UNRWA, plans to re-open the Jerusalem consulate, the unofficial “US Embassy to the State of Palestine” in Jerusalem, and to allow the PLO to restore its embassy in Washington.

A recent poll shows that the Democratic Party, which now controls the House, Senate and the Presidency, has moved significantly away from its formerly solid support for Israel in recent years, with sympathy for Israel among Democrats maintaining a slight edge of only 3 percentage points over sympathy for the Palestinians. The “liberal” wing of the party is far worse, with the Palestinians holding a 15% margin over Israel. Younger respondents also were more likely to favor the Palestinians, which argues for a continuation of the trend. And there is a very vocal contingent in the US Congress that is strongly anti-Israel, and not at all constrained from giving voice to the most extreme anti-Israel propaganda.

The Israeli leadership must come to understand that the continued expectation that Israel will receive military and diplomatic support from the US is unrealistic and dangerous. Israel needs to take action now, to reduce its dependence on the US, to increase its freedom of action, and to build up its own resources in important areas.

There is only one way for a small country in a strategic area to obtain independence from the various empires that wish to make it a satellite, and it is difficult and precarious. That is to play the empires off against one another, and to make alliances with other unaligned nations. I believe that Binyamin Netanyahu understood this, and made small but steady progress in this direction. It remains to be seen if the present government, whose foreign policy appears to be in the hands of the obsequious Yair Lapid, can pull this off.

From the military standpoint, Israel needs to be its own main source of supply. That has implications for the kind of military forces it can field. For example, it may be unrealistic to try to maintain a large fleet of the most sophisticated manned combat aircraft. Drones and precision-guided missiles are far less expensive than F-35s, and while they can’t entirely replace conventional aircraft, a small country will find it more practical to produce and maintain them.

There are also economic considerations. Iron Dome is a wonderful thing, but if it costs $100,000 to intercept a $500 rocket, then massive-scale use of it will bankrupt us. It is much less expensive to deter rocket attacks with the threat of forceful reprisals than to depend on antimissile systems to ward them off. The former strategy is more appropriate for a smaller country whose defense budget is not bottomless. I don’t suggest doing away with antimissile systems entirely, just changing our strategy so that we will not need so many of them.

I recommend that we start moving in this direction now, by agreeing with the US to a gradual phase-out of military aid. At the same time, we will have to revitalize our domestic military industries. Barack Obama very cleverly did not decrease the level of military aid we received, to maintain the maximum leverage over our actions. But the percentage of that aid that could be spent outside of the US was set to gradually drop to zero over the next few years. This had the effect of increasing the subsidy that aid to Israel provided to US defense contractors, and weakening Israel’s home-grown industry. This made us more dependent and at the same time reduced the competition to American weapons suppliers in the world market. A win-win-win for the US, but a loss for us.

America is changing in ways that are not good for America, and not good for us. I hope that the political/cultural pendulum in the US will swing the other way. Probably it will, if the nation survives the present storm intact. But here on the other side of the world, Israel’s enemies are not waiting with their hands folded. She will either adapt to the new situation or find herself in deep trouble.

Abu Yehuda

#American Politics #Israel - USA relations #War

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canchewread · 3 years

Photo

Editor’s note: this post is part of the Recommended Reading series here on Can’t You Read; an ongoing and evolving feature that combines an easy to swipe info-graphic, a short journal, and a link to an important related discussion I’d like to share with readers.

A Culture of Predation Can’t Stop Fascist Pig Violence

In the wake of the frankly surprising (but extremely welcome) guilty verdicts in the trial of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd, I’ve tried very hard to reign in my cynicism. After all, the conviction of a cop for murder “in the line of duty,” let alone a white cop who murdered an African American man with an impoverished background, is about as common as a goddamn unicorn fart, and on that account alone the verdict is worth commemorating, if not necessarily celebrating.

While it would be unspeakably obtuse to suggest that the verdict represented some sort of positive justice, it’s also undeniable that many feel this moment may indeed be a starting point; a chance to at least begin to imagine what a positive justice for African Americans might look like. In particular numerous observers have pointed to the very public crumbling of the proverbial “blue wall” of silence, the fact that Chauvin’s fellow police officers passionately testified against him with the whole world watching, as a positive omen for the future of police reform.

Unfortunately I (and many other observers) have doubts about this position. I don’t mean to be a downer, but the truth is that nobody, not even immunized murderpigs and their commanders, can justify the horrifying video of Chauvin mindlessly executing George Floyd over the course of nine and a half minutes. Faced with the choice of openly embracing their own “little Eichmanns” in front of an outraged public, the Blue Meanies decided that ultimately it wasn’t worth protecting a fuck up like Derek Chauvin. The cost, both to his fellow thug cops, and the profession of policing as a whole, would simply have been too damn high to justify the reward.

The sad and horrifying truth here is that if Derek Chauvin had simply shot George Floyd, instead of casually kneeling on his neck for almost ten minutes, he’d probably be a free man today; just like so many cracker murderpigs before him. Furthermore, even this smallest of concessions probably wouldn’t have happened without months of nationwide protests conducted under a state of constant assault by violent, openly rioting police officers. That last reality is certainly not lost on fascists and neoliberal authoritarians; why else do you think reactionary lawmakers are rushing to pass legislation that criminalizes mass protest against racialized police violence?

Still, you can’t blame folks for hoping; hope can be a good thing if it gives you the strength and courage to continue a seemingly impossible fight for actual justice. Perhaps some long day from now we will look back on this moment and say “and the conviction of Derek Chauvin was the point when the wave ultimately broke, and the tide of cracker police violence finally rolled back” - even if it’s clear that these convictions, by themselves, do not have the power to enact the change we so desperately need.

Where I can and will find fault however, is with those deluded and disingenuous souls who have used this moment to once again champion the doomed cause of police reform; blithely ignorant or willfully oblivious to the fact that police reforms already failed to prevent the murder of George Floyd, and so many others like him. The bald truth is that the current establishment movement towards police reform is about maintaining the power and funding of the very same violent uniformed thugs who’re murdering poor people on behalf of the capitalist state in the first place; that’s why nobody is talking about removing qualified immunity for police officers, and that’s why even some cops themselves are coming around to the idea of reform at this late a date. In many ways, the real importance of the movement to “Defund the Police” is that the mere threat of taking away the sweet filthy ducats that pay murderpig salaries has already shifted the carceral establishment’s position towards bargaining; albeit, in bad faith.

The road to neofeudalist hell is paved with dark intentions however, and what establishment reformers, even and perhaps especially those who’re prepared to acknowledge the fundamentally racialized aspects of police violence, aren’t prepared to discuss in the open is the nature and purpose of policing itself in a capitalist society. There is no public examination of why it is that we keep hiring folks who turn out to be violent white supremacists to be police; and there certainly will be no discussion about the ways class relationships intersect with race through the designed function of racialized policing.

Despite the pro-police propaganda you’ve been fed all your life to suggest otherwise, the vast majority of what police actually do in America is to protect the wealth, property, and feelings of affluent white people and the corporations they own. Far from solving major crimes and preventing violence, modern policing in the Pig Empire revolves around nuisance violations, so-called broken windows policing, and other methods of harassing poor people for minor infractions of the law; remember, the police encounter that lead to the murder of George Floyd started over the purchase of cigarettes and a dodgy twenty dollar bill. The reason murderpigs can get away with violently assaulting protestors and journalists who threaten the established order is because that is precisely what they’re being paid to do, and indeed what their predecessors before them have always been paid to do.

On the surface, this class and capitalism analysis may appear to create a tension with the narrative that white supremacy and racism are also driving the crisis of police violence, but that’s really just about the same old establishment spin. As I’ve discussed in numerous prior essays, you simply cannot separate capitalism from white supremacy, or even racism, because bigoted ideas are propagated and spread for the specific purpose of marking out certain marginalized groups for exploitation and highly-lucrative (for some) repression.

Do you want to know what systemic racism in policing really looks like? It looks like hiring murderpigs to repress the poor, knowing full well that due to centuries of slavery and exploitation, the nonwhite and particularly African American population will be vastly overrepresented in the targeted communities. It looks like a supposedly colorblind war on drugs, the ongoing use of demonstratively racist stop and frisk practices, and expanded powers for your community’s “gang squad” in pretty much any neighborhood that just happens to be predominantly Black. It looks like literally profiting from these practices in ways that are sometimes extremely brazen and obvious, but sometimes hidden from everyday sight; even if they’re hardly much of a secret. The fact that the police are ultimately enforcers for the capitalist ruling class, also makes them enforcers of the white supremacist order that capitalism is so dependent upon in our society; there is no contradiction involved here.

Look; you don’t get rid of fascist murderpigs and white supremacists in law enforcement by throwing more money at nazi cops. Joe Biden can summon up all the pretty words he likes, but you can’t address the racialized nature of police violence without fundamentally altering either the racialized nature of inequality in American life, or the very purpose of policing in our society; and he’s sure as shit not talking about doing any of that at all. Thus, no matter how surprised and hopeful I am after the Chauvin guilty verdicts, that sense of positivity is ultimately tempered by the realization that “nothing will fundamentally change” - and that includes cracker thug pigs executing unarmed Black men on camera.

Although they might finally be better than openly fascist Republicans, the Democrats still don’t have answers to the problem of racialized police violence because ultimately, they don’t have answers to the crisis of capitalism itself. It’s not a question of reform or changing the law; murder is already illegal, even if you’re a white cop. Inequality, and the security force violence necessary to maintain it, is a festering sore inside the American body politic, and there are indeed consequences for essentially ignoring a crisis now so obvious and enraging to the public at large.

What kind of consequences? Well, let’s ask researcher and professor Temitope Oriola who provides one terrifying answer in the public journal, The Conversation:

“The United States is at Risk of an Armed Anti-Police Insurgency“ by Temitope Oriola

Or, you know, we could just abolish the murderpigs first; your call really - but don’t expect Palooka Joe to be much help, either way.

- nina illingworth

Independent writer, critic and analyst with a left focus. Please help me fight corporate censorship by sharing my articles with your friends online!

You can find my work at ninaillingworth.com, Can’t You Read, Media Madness and my Patreon Blog

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“It’s ok Willie; swing heil, swing heil…”

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sarita-daniele · 3 years

Note

Hi, angel! Hope you're doing alright 💓 (hola ángel! También hablo español :) ) I was wondering if you could give some advices in starting out in an arts career?

Hola amigx, ¡perdón que nunca vi tu mensajito! I’m not on my Tumblr very often and definitely forget to check my messages. Luckily my favorite causita @luthienne told me you’d messaged me!

I don’t know what arts discipline you’re in, so feel free to let me know if the advice I have doesn’t apply to you (and ignore it!). There are so many ways to build an arts career, but I’m happy to share some things I’ve learned through trial and error along the way.

(Outrageously long post below break!)

Educate yourself in arts technique, but also study widely.

Techniques are important in art, but only as important as the concepts behind them. When I was younger, I wowed people by drawing near-photographic portraits, but that technical talent and skill alone couldn’t make me a professional artist. Memorable artwork has not just a how, but a why. It isn’t just the object but the story behind the object, and the meaning of the object in the world. Art is about what interests you, what makes you think, what you most value and want to change in this world. So as you build an arts career, learn the techniques behind drawing, woodworking, casting, writing, music-making, whatever your discipline is, but take time, if you can, to also study history, sociology, anthropology, ecology, linguistics, politics, or whatever else you’re drawn to conceptually. Study as widely as you can.

The studio art program I went through (a public university in the US) was very technique-forward; we signed up for classes according to technique, like printmaking or small metals, learned those techniques, completed technique-based assignments. Then I did a one-term exchange at arts university in the UK that was very concept-forward. We had no technical courses, just exhibition deadlines, and what mattered in critique was the concept. Both of these schools had their strengths and flaws, but what I learned was that, to be a practicing artist, I needed both technique and concepts that I genuinely cared about and could stand behind. If I could go back and change anything, I would probably take fewer studio courses (after graduating, I couldn’t afford access to a wood shop, metal shop, or expensive casting materials, and lost many of those skills) and more courses in sociology, Latin American studies, linguistics, ecology, anthropology, etc., because my artwork today centers on social justice, racial justice, Latinx stories and histories, educational access and justice, the politics of language, and community ethics.

And please know that whenever I talk about seeking an education, I’m not talking solely about institutional spaces. College career tracks in the arts (BFA, MFA, etc., much less high-cost conservatory programs) are not accessible to everyone and aren’t the only way to establish an arts career. You can study technique and learn about the world using any educational space accessible to you: nonprofits that offer programming in your community, online resources, Continuing Education programs. And of course, self-education: read as much as you possibly can!

Know the value of your story.

I come from a Cuban/Peruvian family and grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA. My father’s family fled political violence surrounding the Cuban Revolution and came to the U.S. when he was a teenager. My mother was born in Brooklyn to Peruvian parents on work visas and moved back to Lima in her childhood. I grew up with these two cultures present and deeply embedded in our household, in our language, our food, our sense of humor, our sense of history. And yet, some residual assimilation trauma still affected me. I drifted towards the most American things, the whitest things, English authors and Irish music, in part because I enjoyed them but also because those were the things I saw valued in society. I wanted to fit in, wanted to be unique but not different, wanted to prove that I could navigate all spaces. The reality of marginalized identities in America is that our country tells us our identities are only valuable when they can be seen as exotic, while still kept inferior to the dominant, white American narrative (note that this “us” is a general statement, not meant to make assumptions about how you identify or what country you live in).

But as an artist, all I have is my story, and who I am. I wasn’t willing to look at it directly. For years, I avoided doing so. It turns out, though, that I couldn’t actually begin my career until I reckoned with myself and learned to value everything about myself. To fully acknowledge my story, my history, my cultural reality, my sense of language, and my privileges. So I encourage young artists to look always inward, to ask questions about themselves, their families, and what made them who they are.

The reason for doing this is to understand the source from which you make art. Sometimes, however, for marginalized artists, the world warps this introspection into a trap, pigeonholing us into making art only “about” our identities, because that work is capital-I-Important to white audiences who want to tokenize our traumas. This is the white lens, and if anything, I try to understand myself as deeply as I can so that I can make art consciously for my community, not for that assumed white audience.

Know that your career doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s, or like anything you’ve envisioned up to this point.

As a high schooler I imagined that a life in the arts meant me in a studio, drawing and making, selling my work, getting exhibitions near and far, and gaining recognition. It was a solitary vision, one with a long history in the arts, rooted in the idea of individual genius. My career ended up completely different. Today, my arts projects involve teaching, collaborating, collecting interviews and oral histories, and creating public installations, rarely in traditional galleries or museums.

As you work towards an arts career, figure out what does and doesn’t work for you: the kind of art you like and don’t like, the kinds of spaces that feel comfortable and those that don’t. I always thought I wanted to be part of traditional galleries, so I got a job working in a high-end art gallery in Boston during my grad program. Once in that space, however— even though I found the space calming and the work beautiful— I realized that there was something that I deeply disliked about the commodified art world. I didn’t like that we were selling art for over $10,000, that our exhibitions were geared exclusively towards collectors and wealthy art-buyers. The work was often technically masterful, but didn’t move or connect with me on a deeper level, and I realized that was because it wasn’t creating any change in the world. I liked work that shifted the needle, that made the world more inclusive and equitable, that centered marginalized stories (that gallery represented 90% white artists). I liked artwork that people made together, which drew me to collaborative art. I liked artwork that was accessible to everyone, not just the wealthy, which drew me to public art. I liked art exhibited in non-institutional spaces, which led me to community spaces. Since I was in an MFA for Creative Writing, I liked interdisciplinary art that engaged performance, technology, text, that was participatory and not just a 2D or 3D object. Figuring out all of these things led me to apply to my first major arts job: as a teaching artist in a community nonprofit that made art for social change in collaboration with local youth, in a predominantly Latinx neighborhood.

My career path didn’t look like anything I expected, but I love it. The bulk of my income comes from teaching creative writing and art classes for nonprofits, working as a core member of a public arts nonprofit, and freelance consulting for book manuscripts. I love being an educator and consider it part of my creative practice. I love that I’m constantly collaborating with and talking to other artists. I love working with books and public art every day. I publish poetry, fiction, and literary translations, and exhibit artwork I’ve created in the studio and through funded opportunities.

Fellow artists tell me often that I’m lucky, that my “day jobs” are all within the arts. But there are downsides to the way I’ve chosen to structure my career. I’m constantly balancing many projects, and my income is unstable. It’s difficult to save and plan towards the future,. I get by, but financial instability isn’t an option for many artists with families and dependents, with debts, medical expenses, and just isn’t the preferred lifestyle for a lot of people. I know artists who worked office jobs for years to support their practice and gain financial stability. I know artists who had entire careers as lawyers or accountants before becoming artists full time. I know artists who teach in public schools or work as substitute teachers. I know artists who are business owners and artists who work in policy and politics. I know artists who work in framing stores and shipping warehouses while being represented by galleries. These are all arts careers, and I admire every one of them. So as you build your career, don’t feel like it has to look like anyone’s else’s, like there’s anything you “should” be doing. Focus on the kind of artwork you want to make and what kind of work-life balance is best for you, then structure your career around that as best you can.

Any job you use to support yourself can connect to an arts career!

I get asked often by young people looking for jobs what kinds of jobs will best propel them towards an arts career. I believe that any kind of job can connect to and support an arts career, and I know that some suggestions out there in the arts world (like “get an unpaid internship at an art gallery!” or “become a studio apprentice to a well-known artist!”) assume a certain amount of privilege. So I want to break down how different kinds of jobs can connect to your art career:

1) Jobs that allow for the flexibility and mental capacity to create. My friends who work restaurant jobs while going to auditions fall into this category. Who work as bartenders in evening so that they can be in the studio by day. Who dog-walk or babysit or nanny because the timing and flexibility allows for arts opportunities. My friends who are Lyft drivers or work in deliveries. These are often jobs outside of a creative field, but they can be beneficial because they don’t drain your creative batteries, so to speak. You still have your creative brain fully charged, and some jobs (like dog-walking) even allow for good mental processing (you can think through creative problems). As long as the job doesn’t drain you to the point where you have no energy at all, these kinds of jobs can be great because they allow time and space for your creative work.

2) Jobs that place you in arts spaces, arts adjacent spaces, or spaces where you can learn about material/technique. My sculptor friends who work in hardware stores, quarries, foundries, or in construction. My printmaker friend who interned with graphic designers. My writer friends who work in bookstores and libraries, artists who work in art supply stores. My friend who worked with her dad’s painting company and got to improve her precision as a painter, which she then took back to the canvas. My teen students who get paid to work on murals or get stipend payments for making art at the nonprofit I work for. My filmmaker friends who worked on film crews. Friends who worked as theater ushers, in ticket sales, or as janitorial staff at museums. All of these jobs kept these artists adjacent to their artwork, whether through access to tools, materials, supplies, or books, through networking and conversations with other artists, or through skillsets that could enhance their art.

3) Jobs that deeply engage another interest of yours, that bring you joy or can influence your work in other ways. If there’s a job that has nothing to do with your art but that you would love, do it! First, because I believe that the things we’re passionate about get integrated into our art, and second, because any job that gives you peace of mind and joy creates a positive base from which you can create. My friend who worked at a stable because she got to be around horses. My friends who worked at gyms or coaching sports because it kept them active. My friend who worked in a bike repair shop because he was obsessed with biking. An artist I knew who worked at the children’s science museum because she loved being around kids and planetariums. An artist who worked at a mineral store because rocks made her happy. If you have the opportunity, work doing things you like without worrying about whether it directly feeds your arts career.

Because believe it or not, all jobs you work can intersect in some way with your art. You’re creative— you find those connections! A Nobel-Prize winning poet helped his dad on the potato farm and wrote his best-known poem about it. Successful novelists have written about their time working in hair salons and convenience stores. A great printmaker I know who worked in a flower shop began weaving botanical forms and plant knowledge into her designs. The key in an arts career is to see all your experiences as valuable, to find ways that they can influence your art, and to be constantly thinking about and observing the world around you.

As for me, I worked as a tennis instructor, a tennis court site supervisor, an academic advisor, an art gallery intern, and a coffee shop barista before and during my work in the arts!

Let go of objective measures of what it means to be good.

I was always an academic overachiever. Top of my class, merit scholarships, science fair awards, AP credit overload, the whole thing. On the one hand, I grew up in a house where education was valued and celebrated, and my parents emphasized the importance of doing my best in school— not getting good grades, but working hard, doing my personal best, and reading and learning all I could. I loved school. I loved academics. And I’m not saying this to brag, but to lay the groundwork for something I struggled with in the arts.

It is jarring to be an academic overachiever and enter an arts career. I thrived off of objective value systems: study, work hard, get an A. If I worked hard and learned what I was supposed to learn, I earned recognition, validation, and opportunity.

And then I entered the arts. The arts are entirely subjective. We hear it over and over— great artists get rejected hundreds of times, certain art forms require cutthroat competition, etc. —but it’s hard to understand the subjectivity of the art world (and the entrenched discrimination and commercial interests that affect who gets opportunities and who doesn’t) until you’re trying to live as an artist. That you can work hard on something, give all of your time and physical effort and mental and emotional energy to it, only to have it rejected. That what you think is good isn’t what another person thinks is good. That there is a magical alchemy in the act of creation that can’t be taught, or learned, but must be felt, and that you can be working to find that light while actively others try to extinguish it. That you can be good and work hard, yet still not get chosen for the awards, the exhibitions, the publications. If you chased being “the best” your whole life, you’re now in a world where there is no “best”, where greatness is subjective, where the idea of competitive greatness is actually detrimental to artists supporting each other, and where work that sells or connects to white, cishetero traditions is still the most valued.

After struggling with this for a long time, I came to the conclusion that the most important thing to me now is making the art I want to make, the art only I can make, whether or not it fits what arts industries are looking for or what’s going to win awards. If I make art I believe in from a healthy mental and emotional place, doors will open, even if they aren’t the doors I expected. So try to let go of any sense that worth comes from external validation. Learn to accept critical feedback when it is given kindly, thoughtfully, and constructively. Surround yourself with friends and artists who who can talk to about your work, who build up your work and help you think through it rather than cutting you down. Don’t believe anyone in the arts world who thinks they get to be the arbiters of what’s “good” and who has “what it takes”. People have probably said things like that to the artists you most admire, and if they’d listened, you wouldn’t have experienced art that changed your life.

Work to gain skills in basic business, marketing, and finances for artists.

Many artists (at least where I am in the U.S.) go through an entire arts education without receiving resources or training in the financial side of the arts world. Your arts career will likely involve some degree of self-promotion and marketing, creating project budgets and grant proposals, artist statements and bios, sorting out taxes, and other economic elements. I can’t speak to other countries, but for artists in the U.S., taxes can be extremely complex. If you’re awarded a stipend, grant, fellowship, or employed for gigs or one-time projects, you’ll likely be taxed as an independent contractor and have to deduct your own taxes. Through residencies and exhibitions, you may pull income in multiple states and countries, which can also affect taxation. If you’re an artist who doesn’t have access to resources about finance and taxation in your arts program or who doesn’t independently have expertise in those fields, I recommend finding ways to educate yourself early: online resources, low cost courses, or even just taking your financially-savvy friends out for a coffee!

ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE LONG POST I HOPE SOMETHING IN THIS DIATRIBE WAS HELPFUL I HOPE THERE WEREN’T TOO MANY TYPOS AND I hope you have the most wonderful, fulfilling arts career! <3

#resources #writing life #arts life #arts career #visual art #studio art program #mfa #bfa #arts education #i have no chill when you ask me questions like this #long post

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bored-storyteller · 4 years

Text

Okay, I humbly apologize. I had a bad time - and unfortunately it's not over 😩- but here's the second part with three other leaders. I know I know I know! Malleus is missing! I'll try to post Mal today too- tomorrow, it depends on where you are - I promise.

Please I know you love him so much but love me anyway 🥺

14- Dorm leaders x down!s/o pt.2

Kalim Al-Asim

· Kalim is magical and exhausting at the same time. Yes, s/o love him from the bottom of their hearts, but dealing with him in times of stress is exhausting.

· The young nobleman does not really know the stress, at least, for what s/o can see, and this leads him to overcome any worries. It's not that he doesn't want to see other people's problems, it's just that he can't think of them.

· S/o as the days go by they feel worse and worse. The head often hurts and tiredness brings them into a state of almost half asleep. If Kalim saw this he would be very worried about them, but their presence for him is a fact. He is convinced that if something went wrong s/o would tell him, right?

· But no. How could they say no to his requests? That is, actually there is not even time to refuse.

· Jamil is worried. He sees what is going on and tries to marginalize the problems. S/o should rest, they could ask him for help - as if he wasn't already doing everything in the dormitory-. But s/o know that the vice leader is already very busy, burdening him with their study problems and their worries is not the case.

Having to deal with Kalim really means having almost never breath. Even his affection can sometimes be a problem.

Yes, s/o certainly love him, but three days before the start of the test session, the thing more than making them happy is shaking them.

They have studied practically nothing and really feel their strength failing. While everyone is studying carefully, they are struggling to finish their homework for the next day.

The nights for s/o are now nothing more than a staring at the ceiling in desperate search for information that does not exist in their head. And the lessons are so heavy in the morning that their hope of getting through the year is almost zero.

Sometimes the idea of dropping out of school even went through their mind. They would certainly be freer.

Right now, s/o they are hiding in the bedroom, surrounded by study books.

It doesn't matter how much they read and reread those words, their overfull mind wanders over their fears, not making them memorize anything.

There is no way they can overcome this. They curl up on the bed, clutching their knees to their chests and doing everything they can to keep from crying.

Suddenly the door swings open. Kalim comes in with his cheer, filling the room with his happy voice.

It seems that he is excited about something, but s/o can’t help but look at him with wide eyes without understanding.

His exclamations echo in their heads as if it were empty, breaking the delicate crystal walls.

"Stop!" They cry when even the last fragile column of their sanity is brought down.

"Stop!" They repeat, bringing their hands to their faces and collapsing supine on the bed.

"Stop it! I can't take it any more! If I continue like this I will go crazy!"

The arms cover the face wet with tears. They are not really shouting at Kalim.

He stops suddenly, a little frightened by that reaction.

What happened? Where did he go wrong this time?

When the silence weighs too much, they still speak: "I ... I need to get out of here, I... don't want to be in this school anymore. "

Kalim listens in silence for a few moments to their sobs, then slowly, shyly, sits beside them on the bed.

"No ..." he murmurs, "I will help you, whatever your problem is." His voice is that of an injured child, but his arms raise s/o to his chest, to hold them against him and protect them.

"Everything will pass, I promise you. But I can't be without you."

The fingers pass slowly through the hair of s/o while his crimson eyes scan the books around them.

Kalim's arms hold them desperately. Right, how could they leave him alone? In short, who would help Jamil then?

That thought makes them smile, and while s/o get up seated they give to the boy a simple and light "ok", and then they resume the study with a quieter mind.

Kalim no longer talks, but neither does he leave, he simply remains close to them a little to comfort them, a little for the fear that they will move away from him, until he ends up falling asleep on their lap.

Vil Schoenheit

· Here, another guy who made stress his life. Some type of stress. Obviously, he must meet expectations.

· This also applies to those around him, or rather, to those who are close to his heart. If he demands so much from someone, it means that he cares about them. In a sense, even his insult when it is constructive is flattering.

· But for an already stressed s/o, dealing with him is extremely anxiety-provoking. You have to be perfect, everything has to be in order, and for an already fragile mind, well, the step to break is not far away.

· Still, he bears a great deal of stress on his shoulders without showing it, but he doesn't notice that others can sometimes be overwhelmed, and his manners aren't exactly delicate when it comes to appearances.

· S/o are almost afraid of him every time his eyes meet them. What will he say? What's wrong with them?

Yes, they know how important the smile is, but they can't do it. In the library they leaf through the book they hold in their hands with empty and dull eyes.

They don't have to look good, on the other hand disappointment for themselves keeps them up all night.

There is no way they can get through this period, not for how they are.

They sigh, placing the book on the shelves and giving up. They fold their arms on the table as they sit, and there they hide their tired faces.

S/o would like to go into hibernation, everything would be easier. No commitment, no judging eye ...

"S/o, my dear." The firm voice of the Poemfiore leader makes itself heard. It is firm, severe even if placid.

What's up now? Oh sure. They are not sitting upright with their backs. Hair is probably a mess and their eyes have been ruined for days. They already know to suck, there is no need for him to say it. They already hate each other, and there is no need for him to see how ugly their sticky face is with tears.

S/o do not move, as if he were not there, they remain closed inside themselves, in such a state of surrender that not even Vil can grasp immediately. But he understands that something is wrong. It never happened that they ignored him.

“S/o.” the name is repeated again, but this time it is accompanied by the delicate hand of the leader who touches the hair of s/o.

As soon as the fingertips touch the head, as if they were of fire, s/o spring back, scared as if they had a ferocious beast in front of them.

Vil stares at those eyes so full of fear. Afraid of him.

In their dark circles he sees all the suffering of those days, all the dozing sadness. And in that situation of desolation, they feared him as if he were their enemy, the one who wants to harm them.

"No… Please..."

A prayer comes out of their fragile lips as if he is ready to kill them. He's not sure if they're clear-headed... no, they seem to be in another world. A dark and lonely world.

Vil's white fingers caress s/o's chin. They do not retreat, but tremble as if they were blades.

"I won't hurt you. I'm just worried about you."

His words are clear, as always, but a little sweeter than usual. He patiently sits in front of them, without losing contact.

"You can tell me what troubles you."

Finally the gaze of s/o meets the beautiful eyes of the boy. Eyes so beautiful, admired, and at this moment sincere.

S/o they bend down again, resting their forehead on Vil's hand while holding it with theirs. There they cry, for once without the weight of the angry gaze, but only surrounded by affection, while Vil gently caresses their head.

Idia Shroud

· Ok, how to say, this guy is made of stress.

· Idia fears the social relationship, people stress him, what is not his room and his computer stresses him. He is not an easy person to manage.

· S/o are practically elected. They are fortunate to be admitted to his. In short, they can remain curled up on his bed without him saying anything.

· Usually are s/o who take care of him, who try to support him and calm him down, but sometimes of course they are the ones who need support ... but well, Idia practically doesn't exist.

· It is not his fault, but even if he cares about s/o in a way that even he did not believe possible, he is not good at social relationships. Very often he will limit himself and stay next to them, still connected to the internet. They don't mind, usually.

But this time the boy's body isn't even close to them. He is far away, in the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the screens. Yes, they are not even totally sure that he is aware of their presence.

Ortho, to their disappointment, is not present.

S/o don't need to be there, but for some time now they have felt a lump in their throat that they can't swallow. They have failed a test, and there is no way to recover it, or so they believe.

The truth is that they are nothingness.

They have to study, but loneliness echoes in their head. Nobody wants them.

So they slipped from the leader of Ignihyde to find comfort. It would have been fine even if he had been silently beside them, but no, he was elsewhere. They had seen an excited light in his eyes when they arrived. Maybe chat with someone online? Of course, those friends are better than them.

A failure, a weight, that's s/o.

Small tears wet the already dimly lit page.

In the darkness in which they find themselves, they sink into the anxiety and fear that they have been holding inside for weeks.

That horrible feeling of emptiness that causes the brain to tilt.

Idia does not notice the sobs. S/o are hidden, curled up into a ball on the boy's bed. Nothing makes sense to them anymore. More they cry, more they lose consciousness of their surroundings, and everything disappears.

Idia is too caught up in his game. He does not really notice that s/o are not well.

Only when he turns enthusiastically to communicate something to them does he hear them.

Sobs are louder now, but they don't know it.

Heart breaks in Idia. How long have they been crying? Two hours will have passed since they arrived. Why didn't they speak?

Oh God, it's his fault ... he sucks with people so badly, and he always ends up hurting them.

Maybe they came to him because somehow they believed he made them feel good, didn't they?

He gets up from his chair, unsure of what to do. Embarrassed he approaches them.

God, they seem so fragile. Will he break them if he touches them?

Slowly, as if he were dealing with a kitten, he places his sweatshirt on them, and then, a little scared, he sits next to them.

They seem lost, s/o don't react.

Idia feels the butterflies in his stomach from agitation. Suddenly, it seems to him that the figure of s/o is fading away in the dark of the room. It's scary.

Shyly he stretches his arms around the small figure and carefully pulls them into his chest.

He feels their sobs freeze for a moment, almost frightened, and then finally the muscles relax, while they abandon themselves to him.

"Sorry, I'm a delusion..." They murmur, clinging to him.

So is this what they think?

"No ... you ... I ... find you beautiful ..."

He speaks shyly. He's not exactly that these words are what they need, but that's what he really thinks.

His cheek is warm against their head. Maybe he's blushing.

How can they not smile at this?

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twisted wonderland idia #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst headcanons #scenarios #headcanons #request

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tamiettitami · 3 years

Note

24 and/or 34 for the soft fic prompts! :)

rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 1,084 words; TAGGED for Bad Days, we all have them, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, Hugs, Post-Canon, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek), Pet Names, Fluff

find the original prompt list here and read on ao3 here !

While David is making his way back to the store after what was supposed to be a quick run to Café Tropical turned into a 20-minute long outing byway of Twyla's innate inclination to talk, he notices the Apothecary's sign is flipped to close. That's odd, he thinks to himself. I left it on open since Patrick is there. He threads his eyebrows together and furrows his mouth upward before realization hits:

Patrick.

Patrick must've turned it.

But why?

Before David allows himself to dwell any further, he pulls out his phone to send a quick text to his husband after quietly shaking his head back and forth a few times.

can you let me in?

He decides to leave it at that and do the interrogating in-person, not that he'd ever force Patrick into telling him something he's uncomfortable with saying aloud; however, he's worried about him.

David's phone pings moments following with a straightforward Yea. The door is cracked open for him once he's finished looking at the notification.

"Hi," David says simply in his slow, shy voice used when he's carefully approaching Patrick and trying to avoid cracking the eggshells he's ever so precariously walking atop. He closes the door lightly behind him and locks it suit after it clicks in place. "How are you?" He's sure he knows the answer, though it never hurts to ask.

Patrick simply shrugs. Without a second thought, he plops down on the stool next to the register.

"Can I help?" David inquires, making sure to keep his distance. He knows Patrick is a sensitive person, and while there's nothing wrong with that, the absolute last thing he wants to do is upset him by crossing the invisible line drawn in the sand. He's come awfully close before and let's just say he slept on the couch that evening.

"A customer yelled at me today." Patrick taps his foot on the leg of the stool. His eyes aimlessly wander around the sales floor until they land on a box of eye creams. "I was putting those away," He gestures towards the cardboard vessel with a quick jerk of his head. "And someone walked in here looking for a new moisturizer. I told them you'd be back soon to help them choose because I'm just the numbers guy. They got all upset with me for 'not doing my job' since they had somewhere to be in ten minutes and couldn't wait for you."

David frowns and shakes his head with a sigh. Patrick will raise his voice from time to time when it's absolutely necessary although he despises people who raise theirs at him. Is it hypocritical? Yeah, it is, except that won't stop Patrick from feeling worthless like he's a single speck of dirt in an antique store. Despite his efforts to make himself known, it seems as if people always find a way to cut him down.

It breaks David's heart to see Patrick like this. He isn't exactly known for standing up for himself and David doesn't blame him. With the past he has, he's more than well aware of how horrifying it can be to stick up for yourself in situations where you're marginalized. He wouldn't wish this feeling on his worst enemy, God forbid his husband.

"First off, you're so much more than just the numbers guy. Rose Apothecary wouldn't exist without you and I can confidently say that." Patrick shifts his body closer to David's like he's yearning for his touch, so David takes a few steps towards him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you, but we don't deserve the business of someone who thinks it's okay to yell at a store owner when we're providing a service for them to begin with."

"Sometimes, I feel like I don't deserve to be apart of this store," Patrick confesses. "Like I'm a dead weight and you're forced to drag me along."

David closes his eyes and shakes his head as he continues to make his way into Patrick's personal bubble. "We're married, honey, I love having you around. Work would be miserable if you weren't behind the counter every morning to greet me with a kiss or hand me a cup of coffee."

A long stretch of silence hangs over them before its broken by Patrick speaking up. "Can I have a hug?" He looks at David through his lashes where he was busy picking at the skin around the base of his fingernails.

"What?" David is caught off guard by his request. Sure, Patrick is a take-charge kind of guy, but he's always had a difficult time voicing what he wants; it's easier for him to act instead of ask, and clearly, acting was off the table right now given his current state of vulnerability.

Patrick redirects his gaze down towards the floor. "Nothing, it's stupid."

"If it's something you want, it's not stupid, babe." David tries his best to reassure him with anything besides empty words.

Instead of verbalizing his desire again, Patrick simply holds out his arms. It takes David a moment to get the memo. As soon as he does, however, he closes the gap between them as if his life depends on it.

They stay still for what feels like an eternity, neither party wanting to let go.

There's something so comforting about feeling safe enough around a person to relish in their embrace like this.

Every so often, David will tighten his grip around Patrick's waist or Patrick will bury his head further into the crook of David's neck.

It's clichè, but David is Patrick's home.

He's the place where Patrick feels most sheltered, protected from the outside world in their own little universe filled with secretly exchanged looks and quietly whispered words.

Except right now, there's no pulling back to look into the other's eyes or repeated sentiments of I love you like there normally is when they hug; they're merely caressing in silence.

Even though Patrick is the one who needs the hug, David would be lying if he said he isn't enjoying it, too.

For the next five minutes, hugging is all they do. They hug, and hug, and hug like there's no tomorrow.

Neither of them would trade this moment for anything else.

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