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grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

unearthed

chapter one - matched

warnings— canon typical violence, mentions of death, loss, injury, maybe a lil trauma

a/n— and we’re back! just over a year of having this account, and the end of season three, and i’m back where i started. thirsting after the mandalorian. i’m super excited about this one, and even though i think there will be a bit of a wait between chapters i promise its because they are going to be higher quality. also, obviously there will be smut further on (come on, it’s me. of course we are going to fuck him.) so no minors please!! hope you enjoy! big thank-you to @kyberblade for beta reading and saving me from my typos i love u.

also a psa. disregard season three for this fic. it fucked up my timeline so i’m changing it. things might be a bit all over the place, but it’s just going to be what i wanna do with it HAHAH no rhyme or reason :)

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You stared out into the never ending darkness, interspersed by twinkling hints of far away planets, all of them seeming more and more out of reach as you were shuffled out into the hall. Flanked by guards, the view from your room disappeared from sight, replaced by the familiar, safe walls of your palace. This was your life now— being shoved towards the known and away from those giant stretches of sky you longed so much for. Your duty, you say to yourself. This was the way you had to live, destined to the confines of your pre-determined universe. It is what you were born to do.

You knew this day would come. You were, as you were constantly, incessantly reminded, the last of the royal bloodline. After your parents early death, it left you as heir and sole survivor to the throne. All of your life, you had been trained for this moment, but it was something that was always so...distant.

You used to look forward to this time in your life, where you’d get to travel the galaxy, finally earning some of that coveted freedom all the other girls in the palace talked about. You dreamed of seeing the galaxy, being unknown on an Outer Rim planet, going wherever your heart takes you. You thought you’d have time to live. But then, within the blink of an eye, you were rushed through your coronation and left to carry the burden of commanding an entire planet. It was like a rug was ripped out from underneath you, all while someone dropped a fifty pound weight over your head, all the while chiding you for stumbling over.

In the wake of the Empire finally falling around the galaxy, planets all around the suns were scrambling— resources were scarce, trade routes were un-secure and stability was out of reach. This was the same for you, because the future of your planet was now in your hands, and you had no idea what to make of it.

Unfortunately for you, stability in a woman’s world came in the form of a contract. Most usually, a marriage contract.

This meant, much to your dismay, an entourage of young, hopeful (and practically brainless) men arriving on your doorstep, all popping the question in hopes of securing the new Queen's hand in marriage. Your hand. You knew your planet was important and appealing, with its natural resources, expanding economy in spite of the Empire’s devastation, and an abundance of funds for all the newest technologies with the death of two of the greatest ruling minds of the time. Any leader of even a remotely nearby planet would strike on this opportunity— you know you would, if it were someone else.

The whole idea wasn’t new, but it still made your gut twist. Your parents were lucky they had something more– real love, and a home filled with the stuff of fairytales. While you knew this was rare, it made you long for that. Knowing it was real, that a connection like that could be somewhere out there for you, but you’d never reach it because you never got the chance to try... you knew you were lucky, but it didn’t stop your heart from longing for more. You wanted someone to show you the stars, to let you be you, and not just try to win you like a prize or a notch in their belt.

Everyone around you said this was the smart thing to do. Choose someone— anyone who would bring you what you wanted. Your planet, as fertile as it is, is not famous for its army. That was clear during the reign of the Empire, and now the New Republic was thinning their guard posts after the war, you needed manpower. You knew it was a necessity, and you wanted to keep your people safe, but to offer yourself up like a prized mare? You were a Queen, and you were planning to be a good one, with or without a husband.

As you sat on the throne, dismissing yet another suitor with a shake of your head, the collective group of your father’s– now your own Advisors groaned, and one walked up the steps, approaching you with a slightly bowed head.

“Your Majesty, if I may…” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, only because you knew the watchful gaze of neighbouring planet leaders were on you.

“I have a feeling you will anyway.” He shook his head, quickly coming up the stairs to your side. He sighs, and you shrug at him. “What? He wasn’t my type, okay? If I’m going to sleep with the man, I should at least–”

“Your Majesty, this is the fourteenth potential match you have rejected. We are a coveted planet, but if you do not choose someone, we run the risk of having no options at all.” He says, looking down his nose at where you are strung lazily across your throne. He was still harbouring some of that anger from earlier, where you had refused to change into the giant mess of a gown the styling team had chosen for you. If the colour wasn’t enough– a pale puke green measurable to the blood of a Trandoshaan– the fabric was so expansive you would have drowned in it. You loved a pretty dress, but at least one that didn’t eat you whole.

“Would that be so bad?” You dropped your head back, and he shook his head, sighing again.

“Yes— it would mean instability. We would be a target for neighbouring planets. We are strong, but not strong enough to be alone. The New Republic has already thinned their guards to a ghost number compared to four years ago. We cannot wait any longer. We are… vulnerable, without a strong army.”

“We can make allies without forcing me to marry one of them.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. We would never force you to do anything.” He says those words, but every syllable is laced with warning. You may be the last living member of your blood line, but no matter how important, and no matter how beloved by your people you are, there were some things that you couldn’t control.

The worst part was he was right. Sure, you could solidify alliances, but a marriage was a lock and key. If you picked the right one, your people would be safe for years to come, long after you were successful. After what you had seen of the Empire, what they had done here, and all over the galaxy, your people deserved safety. Freedom— whatever the cost.

Your love for your people would get you through this. In them, you saw your parents legacy, and the passion to build something greater than yourself. You would never trade this life for anything... but it didn’t mean you couldn’t have preferences. Just as you were going to justify why you rejected the man now sneering at you from the corner of the room, the doors burst open, and your attention is diverted to the messenger rushing in with a strange look on his face.

“Your Majesty, we’ve just received another request.” He calls, breathless. “I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s… I am not sure how to say this.”

The man is clearly nervous— avoiding your eye and instead staring at his feet. You rise off the throne and move to him, attempting a comforting smile and nodding at him.

“It’s alright. Start at the beginning.”

“This request… It is unusual.” He swallows, and you laugh lightly.

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me the Hutts have thrown themselves into the mix.” You had nothing against them right now, but they were so… slimy. “Whoever it is, as long as they send a message in peace, they will be well received.”

“Well, that is the thing. They do not ask Your Majesty to receive them. They…”

“They don’t want to come here?” Already, you are breathing a sigh of relief. Anything to stop the constant parade of men flapping their money and stupid hair around.

“No, they ask that… they ask that you come to them.” He finishes, and your advisors are next to him in an instant, all attempting to speak over one another. You raise your eyebrows, surprised, but intrigued.

“That is an insult!” The man who challenged you before, known to you as Advisor Corell, spits at the messenger. “Her Majesty only receives guests— she does not travel unless there is cause.”

“Did they say anything else?” You ask, and the room goes quiet again as you step forward. The messenger looks uncomfortable, knowing there are still foreign diplomats in the room. “Everyone else, please go. You’ll be... informed of my decision later.”

The entire room exits quickly at the sound of your voice, all mumbling to themselves, probably still hurt over your rejection and blatant disinterest, but all you could care about was this new message.

“It’s alright. Go ahead.” You encourage. “What else did they say?”

“They asked for your hand, of course. They have a new King, and think the match would be beneficial to both sides.” A new King. Your mind buzzes, trying to think if you’d heard of any close planets going through a succession besides your own. Nothing comes to mind, but if he was new, at least this one would hopefully be closer to your age.

“A new King?” The messenger nods. “And he asked for me personally?”

“Ah... the message was not from him, Your Majesty. It was a hologram from a member of his court. A… Bo-Katan.” You had never heard the name before, but one of your advisors makes a noise of recognition and you spin to her.

“You know this name?” You ask Advisor Kaylen— probably your favourite member and the closest thing you have to a friend. She nods eagerly. “You’ve met them?”

“I have heard it before, but that would be impossible…” She fades off, and you turn back to the messenger.

“This is the most interesting person I’ve heard of since this whole thing started. What’s impossible?” You watch the messenger's face twist, so you reach out and touch his shoulder, the contact surprising him and earning a disapproving hum from Advisor Corell. “You can tell me, just ignore him. I do.”

“Well, that’s just the thing. The planet they claim to come from has been long abandoned.” Advisor Kaylen was still muttering to herself, but you couldn’t focus on her anymore when the messenger finally spoke again. “They say they are calling from Mandalore, and that their new King has asked for you to be his Queen.”

“Stop asking me about that.” Din growled, stopping his swift movement through the makeshift repair station he’d been pulling together. “I’m not interested.”

“This isn’t just about you anymore.” The longer he spent with these Mandalorians, the more the thought of taking off with their precious Dark-Saber and leaving seemed appealing. “An alliance like this is exactly what we need. With all the repairs, we’ve run low in funds. We need resources— we need to outsource, and this is the fastest way to do it. She’s all but waving a flag for us.”

He never thought there would be a time when bounty hunting was the normalcy he craved— but standing surrounded by relics of his people long passed, discussing a potential marriage—he started to miss the reliable frame of the Razor Crest a little too much.

“Mandalore was built on the backs of our people. We can do it again, the same way.” Bo-Katan sighs, giving him a glare after removing her helmet. “Would you do this? Was this a part of your plan to re-take Mandalore?”

“They didn’t have a dwindling empire and economic crisis to deal with. If you do this, we can rebuild the way our ancestors wanted us to live. How we used to live. Welcome our family home. Isn’t that what you want?” He spins, taking two slow steps to face Bo-Katan, who stands with her helmet tucked under her arm. “To answer your question— yes. I would have. I was royalty once, and I know what this is like. And I would still do it. You might even make a friend in her, Din.”

“You aren’t suggesting friends.” To her credit, she doesn’t back down, just raises her eyebrows at him. “You are asking me to get married. You know what that means.”

“It’s not like that. Rulers marry for all kinds of reasons— and if she’s looking, it means she wants to take full advantage of this. It’s the smart thing to do. Her planet is powerful, but vulnerable. Their army numbers are small after the Empire’s attacks, and she needs what we can offer now the Rebellion is squaring off. Good, strong fighters. Besides, I’m sure you aren’t exactly all she hoped for, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly see her after the first few months.” Rolling her eyes, she turns back to the pile of spare parts they had dragged in from outside. “We’ve already sent a hologram inviting her here. If she accepts, you can discuss a potential alliance like adults. If you are still opposed, we’ll cancel it and try it your way. Until then, we have work to do.”

“Send another message. Say I’m no longer interested.” Din stands impossibly still, waiting for Bo-Katan to agree and leave before he lets out a long breath. Clearly, he’d misjudged how set on this idea she was.

“Just think about it, okay?” She turns and disappears from view, and he feels like he’s going to collapse under the pressure. Things were complicated enough— in the last month, he’d learnt his way of life was not the only way at all, inherited a saber he had little idea how to use, and dropped everything he knew to come back home— to Mandalore. To say he had enough on his plate was an understatement.

Truthfully, he had come back with one thing on his mind. The Way declared one could only truly be forgiven for their misdeeds in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore— and Din had a lot to be forgiven for. If there was anywhere he could start fresh, it was here, but before he could do that, he had to find the mines, currently buried under years worth of rubble and debris. The last thing he needed was to disgrace himself in yet another way— which is exactly what Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorian’s were suggesting.

He was not ready for this. Not in any way. He was not a ruler— not a born and bred leader, like Bo-Katan, and he’d never wanted to be. It might have made sense to an outsider, maybe. A new, untested ruler of a planet as economic as yours was bound to attract unwanted attention, and about the only thing Mandalore could offer right now was its ability to fight. It was the only thing it was known for.

He didn’t want to marry, though. Not for a political alliance. He didn’t think about it at all— not right now. He’d heard a few things about you by now— how your parents had passed suddenly, and how you were now being squashed into the same situation as he was, forced to play a role which you had no choice in being cast to. He felt as sorry for you as he did for himself, and he found his thoughts drifting to the Child.

Din looked around, exhausted at just the thought of getting this place into any form of working order. Spare parts to old ships scattered on the floor, and the room was painted in a light purple hue thanks to the reflection of the glass roof overhead. He stood, leaving the mess of a garage and walking back out towards the largest building in this city.

There were streets lined with cracked stone, several Mandalorians dragging and pulling equipment to replace the broken ones. They had been working hard— everyone had, including him, and the place was looking less and less like a war zone by the second. The sight made him feel easier. At least his home wouldn’t be rubble forever. Buildings were gaining foundations, others entirely rebuilt by hand. It had only been a month or two, and already this place was looking like he’d been told in the stories. Like home.

As he walked through them, he didn’t miss the stares of those who’d left their helmets behind, but at least that was familiar. Everyone stared, on every planet he went to, and even with the oddly shaped buildings, some spiralling high, others flat and long enough to park a few speeders in the front, he felt settled here. The cities were huge and spanned far into the horizon, too long to walk everywhere, so the Mandalorians had gone straight to work on the speeder parts, using them to zip around not only around this central city, but between other parts of the planet.

Finally, he began the walk up the steps of the castle. It was giant— bulky and boxed, rooms stacked on top of each other with seemingly no purpose. It was the most well conserved building on the planets surface, and it was what constituted as a home for Din. For now, at least. Either way, it was the safest place to keep Grogu during the day, and he would go wherever it was safest for him.

He could hear him before he saw him, loud chirps and gurgles coming from the throne room. One, giant looking chair was elevated by a few steps at the end of the room, and he saw a flip of green zip over Sasha’s unmasked head.

“Get down here, you gremlin.” She barked, but laughed at Grogu’s slightly worried face when he spun to a stop in mid air. It was then he finally noticed him, dropping to the ground and wandering over. “He’s been a little pain in my—“

“Patu!” Grogu chirps, and Din laughs roughly, bending down to pick him up. He holds him in front of his helmet, watching as his tiny hands reach out to grab his gloved wrists.

“Have you been causing trouble, Grogu?” He makes a little gurgle sound, like he always does when Din says his name, and he smiles under the helmet.

“Bo-Katan was looking for you.” Sasha says, putting her helmet back on. Most Mandalorian’s that lived around the capital did that when they spoke to him, now, even ones as high ranking as Sasha. Din doesn’t look up from Grogu’s giant eyes.

“She found me. And my answer is still no.” He hears her laugh, but when he looks up at her, she stops.

“She didn’t tell you?” Din turns to face her, letting the kid fiddle with something on his armour.

“Tell me what?” Unlike Bo-Katan, Sasha is a little afraid of him. Everyone is, especially since they had seen him fight with the DarkSaber when they first arrived on the planet. Since then, there had been a quiet fear, a commanding presence Din didn’t think he had earnt, but regardless it was there. She swallowed, tilting her helmet down to the floor. “Tell me.”

“The Queen replied. She accepted your invitation, and is expected to arrive within the week. She also implied, if the meeting goes well— she…”

“She what? What did she say?” Din had no idea why, but his heart was racing a mile a minute. Had she been insulted by the offer? Was she going to stage an attack?

“She said she would marry you.”

“You said I would what?” You shout at the group of advisors, all of whom look like they are about to scramble and run. And they should. “Who’s bright idea was it to send correspondence, with my name attached, without my go-ahead?! What the hell kind of advisor does that?!”

None of them so much as moved, except for Advisor Kaylen, who caught your eye, making a pointed look at Advisor Corell. You shook your head, and a bitter smile curled the ends of your mouth.

“I should have known. Corell. Get up.” He spluttered, stumbling to his feet as you dragged him up the dais, and forced him to his knees. “Was it you? Did you tell Mandalore I would accept their invitation?!”

He shakes his head. “I only said you would meet with them! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“When I was ready!” You want to scream, but your embarrassment and nerves choke your throat. Yes, you were going to accept. Probably. Maybe a month from now... a few months, if you could stretch it. Not this week.

“This is a good thing! Now you get to go! To— to see the cursed land for yourself. To look upon its new ruler! I was only doing what I thought was best! They would have been insulted if we had rejected…and we’re running out of options.”

“The only one insulted here is me, that you truly believe I would buy any of the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He was on thin ice as it was, but your fathers words played in your head, and you saw the faces of your other Advisors in the corner of your eye.

Your father had selected this team of people because he trusted them, and for some reason, you did too. You didn’t know why, or how they were picked, but they were supposed to be the six people you could rely on. The six people who would challenge you, who wouldn’t blindly accept your decision like the rest of the planet. They were a tradition— to ensure the sanity of a ruler and the safety of a planet. You trusted them; or you would, eventually, but they would not overstep. Or at least, they shouldn’t.

“My father trusted you. It is that reason alone that I will let you continue to work underneath me, and forgive this lapse in judgment. But this is the one chance you will receive. I might not be my father, but you work for me now. If you choose to disobey me or do anything without me specifically telling you again, I will send you to Mandalore in my stead, and the King can have you in my place. We will see how far you make it in the ruins before he cuts you down.” They all scurry from the room, Advisor Corell not glancing back as he heads for the door after you drop him.

All that is left is Kaylen, who doesn’t need a title when it’s just you and her. She was a friend— perhaps your only one, so you only used her title around the other Advisors.

“That was exciting.” She says, and you flop down onto the cushioned throne, golden pillows softening the blow as she comes to lean on the armrest. “It’s been too long since we had some real palace gossip.”

“Well, hold on to that, because you might be shipping me off to marry a fish. He’s like a ghost— I couldn’t find anything on the King, and now I’m supposed to just…go?” You sigh, swinging your feet over the edge of the chair and letting your head fall into her lap. “This is insanity. This entire month has been suitor after suitor, none of them with armies strong enough to keep our planet safe. And now it’s like I don’t even have a... it all just happened so fast.”

“I know. You were right to reject them all. But this one is... it’s different.” You sit up, turning to face her.

“You think I should go?”

“Are you asking me as an Advisor, or as a friend?”

“Both.” The throne is huge, made for the large frame of your father, so she can slide right in next to you.

“Well, as your Advisor, Mandalore is famous for one thing— war. Sure, they have lost a tonne, but when they were at their peak, they were unstoppable. Feared throughout the galaxy. With our help, they could be that again. Even having the name attached to us would scare off any potential threats for a while. They are good fighters, they could teach our people ways we would never learn ourselves, and one day we could even be allies. Especially if this goes well.” She sits up when she speaks, and even though she’s only a few years older than you, she seems light years ahead. You understand why your father chose her.

“And as my friend?” She swings an arm over your shoulder.

“As your friend, I think you need this. I think that you haven’t changed a single thing about the palace since you have been crowned because you know once you do, this is real and your parents are gone. I think you know this is the right thing to do, but you’re scared, and you think that when you do this, you’ll finally be alone, and you hate that.” You’re thankful she’s not looking at you because you almost start crying as soon as she mentions your parents. “I think you know that this is different. That this could be a defining moment for you. For your reign. For the planet to come back after the Empire.”

“Why do you have to be right about everything?” You say tightly, and she helps you stand off the throne, leading you towards your bedroom through the maze of winding corridors.

“Just lucky. And, hey, don’t look so sad. Rumor has it he wears a very pretty beskar suit. All shiny and silver. You love shiny stuff.” She gestures at the hallways, all lined with golden and silver detailing. You nudge her on the shoulder and she laughs, peeling off before you open the door to your bedroom.

It was technically your parents room— the room you grew up in now vacated for your future offspring. You didn’t mind, using the room helped you feel a little bit closer to your parents. You remember all the times you’d climbed into bed with them, buried under the covers because you were afraid of the dark.

Kaylen was right. Corell was right, even if he was an asshole. It was selfish to not accept an offer. You hated that you couldn’t do more for your people, that all you had to offer was your arm, but if that was what you needed to do right now, you should just... suck it up. A Mandalorian, though. That was different. You knew they were feared, although scattered throughout the galaxy, and if their words were true, an entire planet of them would make you virtually impenetrable.

You couldn’t help but think about the King. Mandalorians were a confusing bunch, the few you had met, anyways. Very quiet, lethal as anything, and in your experience, solitary. Your mother had hired one years ago to collect a bounty for her, and he completed the four day job in three hours, arriving and leaving on his own, hardly talking if he didn’t have to. Why would someone like that want to be married?

Shrinking out of your outfit, you decided to try and get some sleep. If tomorrow was going to be anything like today, you’d need all the rest you could get, and for some reason, there was a racing in your heart you couldn’t settle. Maybe just nerves from the incoming visit to Mandalore tomorrow.

That had to be it. The myths, legends surrounding the cursed world— it would make anyone nervous. But it was just that. Nerves. It couldn’t be anything else.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #din djarin x y/n #din djaren x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #star wars #star wars fic #pedro pascal

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vaguely-yandere · 2 years

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IDEA

a darling who’s very, very aware of what’s going on and uses it to their advantage.

“hmmmmmmmmm someone who’s willing to literally sell all they own, fight god and satan at the same time, and commit various acts of treason just for me to smile in their general direction’s in love with me????”

“i can definitely use this.”

-poised darling

honestly, me as a darling. call me toxic but i love the idea of someone willing to do literally anything for me!! i need that in this economy!

i think itd be quite fun too. maybe having a yandere as a roommate!

like with girly yan, sensitive, housewife, cannibal, etc, you see how they look at you. you see how their eyes follow you. youve found your clothes in their room multiple times, you can sometimes hear them whimpering in their room at night with quiet little moans of your name, and lets be honest here, youre kind of a snoop by nature! so when theyre out of the house (which is quite frequent), you take a look through their room and find their journals. journals, thick ones at that, coated front to back in scribbles and the occasional coherent sentence of what they want to do to you or what they want you to do to them. a few others thatre labelled, covering everything youve done everyday for the past few years, even before you knew them. wedding vows, scrapbooks, books filled with pages of just your name, its some insane bullshit and the dots finally connect and youve got bills to pay and love attention! why not have some fun with this?

so, you start wearing more comfortable clothes around the house. maybe just a big shirt and underwear. maybe just some sweatpants (and a bra if you wear those). you wear skin tight clothes or even just underwear when you workout in the living room, grunting freely and hiding your smile when you hear your cute little yandere whine when they first see you. you start inviting them to little movie nights where you cuddle right up, pressed right against them. if youre both the same gender, you leave your door open when you undress because "c'mon, its just us here!" you 'accidentally' take their clothes, wearing them around the house just for them to see and if you finally make a move on them? they wont be able to hold themselves together for longer than a minute

as for the others, like rival, big bad, stoic, etc(CEO yan would never have a roommate), i think your teasing would have to be a bit more hands on. purposely pressing against them a little bit when you scootch past them, always finding a way to touch them when you two are sitting together, complimenting them constantly, posting provocative things on your social media and if you bring someone over and loudly have sex in your room??? you might actually break them

(but you know they would just spend the night with their face stuffed into their pillow, shoving their fingers inside of themselves, feeling their insides twitch every time you moan, just wishing and hoping one day theyd be the ones fucking you. they lie to themselves and say its just a coincidence, that its normal to get turned on when you hear someone fucking in the other room, they arent masturbating to the thought of you but deep down, they know and they shame themselves for being so messed up. for being so obsessed with you but that doesnt stop their eyes rolling back when you moan the vague syllables of their name as you cum, doesnt stop them from spending the rest of their night humping their pillow with your clothes shoved in their mouth to keep themselves from moaning too loud, doesnt stop them from clawing at their sheets, wishing they could go into your room and really please you and it certainly doesnt stop them from cleaning themselves up and waiting in the living room so they can see who the fuck dared to try and take what was theirs)

and to seal the final nail in the coffin, you spend breakfast upset. moving away from your one night stand who is overstaying their welcome. acting cold towards them. giving your roommate 'help me/im so fuckin annoyed' glances so they help you out and kick them out and you spend the rest of the morning complaining about how they werent good enough and you were only acting it up because they seemed like they needed a win.

that is one sure fire away to make them put you up on the counter and eat you out until youre moaning out for real <3

#asks #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere smut #poised darling #sensitive yandere #rival yandere #stoic yandere #girly yandere #cannibal yandere #housewife yandere

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marleyswho · 5 days

Text

no woman, no cry (chapter three)

warnings. false awakening/reoccurring dream. fluff. introduction to more oc’s. mention and description of mental breakdown. ex-girlfriend and sisters. that kind of soul connected love. two-sided personality. slight neglect. hinting towards flirting. jealous!tish. possessive!tish. angst. tense arguing. a realization and apologies

tags. @shurislover @s0lam33y @desswright29 @pocketsizedpanther @naftalyspaces @oceean @tishlvr @bbbbbbrilliantly @shurisnovia @kisskourt @blkgworlamplified @prettymrswright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @jordisblogg

notes. this chapter contains… a lot, we’re hitting ALL the emotions. i’ve been ready to write this chapter for weeks as that scene was replaying in my head over and over and now it’s finally here. i hope you all love it ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Milan sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft amber hue over the bustling Malpensa Airport, the first time she’s felt the sun since leaving Jamaica. Genesis stands in the economy boarding line, her dreadlocks tied into a loose bun, tucked under a knit beanie. Her eyes, a reflective pool of thought, wander across the vast terminal, watching the world around her.

Once the line moves enough, she hands over the needed documents, a subtle sigh escaping her lips as she does, fingers brushing against a leather-bound journal in her bag, a collage of sketches and musings that mirror her soul.

Boarding the aircraft, Genesis nestles into her seat, the window to her left granting her a panoramic view of the bright tarmac lights. The seat beside her remains vacant, a small luxury in the cramped quarters of economy, and ahead of her is the curtain that divides the classes. She imagines Letitia, her relaxed posture in the cocoon of first-class comforts.

Genesis blacks out most of takeoff, having done it many times before, and though she doesn’t sleep well normally, there’s times where her body’s just so tired that she doesn’t even realize she falls into it.

And this time, when her eyes droop closed, an image floods her sight. It’s a field, a vast expanse of green that seems to stretch infinitely. And there’s a small child, maybe no older than nine. It’s her, a child with braids, her clothes a couple sizes too large on her skinny frame, billowing around her as she runs. But it isn’t joyous, there’s no laughter, only fear clear on her face, set by the sudden harsh crackle of incoming flames.

She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t scream for help, only her ragged breathes are heard as she runs towards her view of the scene, an intuitive understanding that to turn would be to acknowledge the fear gnawing at her heels. And she’s never been one for that.

She hears the gallop of hooves suddenly, a man on the horse a persistent shadow in her periphery. His presence is ominous as he rides after her, yet there’s something strangely familiar, like a forgotten verse of a once-loved song.

And then she hears the hum.

The tune’s a constant, melodic notes, deep and experienced, echoing a timelessness that feels both foreign and familiar, seemingly etched into her very soul. Yet its origin remains a mystery, obscured like a half-remembered lullaby.

The dream dissolves as the Captain’s voice announces their descent into Heathrow, and Genesis stirs, her eyes opening to the sterile light of the cabin, causing her eyebrows to furrow.

Still in a sleepy haze, she stows her journal, making an internal commitment to try and decipher the dream’s meaning later, wether be in sketch or writing, and she checks the seat pocket and the floor before zipping up her carry-on, knowing she has everything, now ready for landing, ready for the return back to urban life in its entirety. And the humming retreats into the recesses of her mind, where it will wait, patient and steadfast, for the night’s sleep, or a moment of meditation, or even revelation, when she’ll finally be able to recognize it for what it is.

Once she’s able to get off the plane, she steps into limited space of the tunnel, and she’s not sure she’s excited or even relieved of the arrival. But then she sees her, Letitia, standing in the slightly more open space next to some workers, a soft smile turning her lips up slightly. Her presence is a balm to the fatigue and anxiety that clings to Genesis like a second skin.

“Hey,” Letitia says quietly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers, her palm providing gentle warmth against Genesis’ almost chronically cold skin.

“Hey,” Genesis mirrors her, voice a little raspy, tinged with the remnants of sleep.

Together, they navigate the throngs of passengers, moving in silent harmony towards the assigned baggage claim, the carousel churning out suitcases in a rhythmic clunk. And Genesis watches as Letitia grabs hers with easy grace, seemingly a contrast to the tension she feels in her own limbs, happy she only traveled with her crossbody bag.

Suddenly, a whistle, sharp and clear, cuts through the murmurs around them and Genesis’ head turns instinctively towards the sound, her heart recognizing it before her mind even can, her eyes instantly falling on the form that made it.

Julian, a head above the crowd, his dreadlocks a cascade over his shoulders, his smile seeming to reach his eyes, igniting a furry of emotions within Genesis, a mixture of joy, nostalgia, and an unspoken trepidation.

“Gen!” He calls out her name and the sound brings with it a flood of memories. Sun-drenched afternoons and the smell of rain hitting the earth.

“Julian…” She breathes out, her voice quiet, yet there’s the smallest smile forming on her lips.

His arms wrap around her easily, his six foot frame towering over Genesis’ five-four one, an invitation back to the days of their youth where a hug would fix all the scrapes on knees and hearts alike. The familiarity of the embrace envelopes Genesis like a blanket, the kind of hug that doesn’t shy away from the past.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Julian murmurs, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through their joined bodies, and Genesis breathes in the scent that’s unmistakably Julian, the faint trace of sandalwood and the crispness of open air that always seems to cling to him.

They pull away slowly, reluctance threaded in Julian’s movements, his hands lingering on her shoulders for a moment longer, eyes searching her green ones, for the friend he knew, the one that climbed trees to their highest branch and dreamt as big as the sky.

“Yuh alright?”

“I think so…” Genesis nods, voice steady, and Julian can’t help but chuckle, pulling back fully now. And in that moment, she feels Letitia’s hand take hers again, a gentle squeeze felt, and Julian notices the subtle entwining, looking between them before his eyes fall on their hands.

“Letitia, yeah?” He questions, looking at her with a slightly narrowed expression. Letitia nods, extending a hand to his, feeling his tight grip as he shakes. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” Letitia replies, voice steady.

With the luggage secured and the hustle of the airport now behind them after walking out, Genesis and Letitia stand on the curb, the cool London air wrapping around them. Julian, having gone to retrieve the car, pulls up on their place by the sidewalk, his presence a reminder of the incoming departure.

“I always dreaded this part.” Genesis looks at Letitia, eyes softening as she remembers back to the moments of goodbyes between them, after months together for filming and press.

“Only for the night. Tomorrow we can grab coffee or tea at that little place you love. What is it… Exmouth Coffee?”

“You remembered?” Genesis cant stop the smile from appearing on her lips. She maybe only mentioned that fact once, at least five years ago now.

“Of course,” Letitia says, a playful rebuke in her tone. “I remember everything when it comes to you.”

And they move closer, a hug enveloping them with a deep warmth, one that fills Genesis’ heart, and Letitia’s whisper fills her ear.

“Nine tomorrow? Meet you there?”

Genesis nods as they pull away, but not too far, pressing a soft peck against Letitia’s lips before they finally step apart fully, Letitia opening the passenger side door for her before closing it again, leaning down to look at Julian through the window.

“Take care of her, yeah?”

“Always.” Julian nods with reassurance from the driver’s seat, and she straightens, about to step back, when she hears his voice again. “Oh, and Letitia?”

Her eyes meet his in curious question.

“Thank you for bringing her home.”

A warmth fills Letitia’s heart, nodding, sharing one last glance with Genesis, the finality of the moment hanging heavy in the air before she finally steps back onto the curb, watching as Julian pulls away, soon disappearing around the corner.

The ride to Tottenham is shrouded in the kind of silence that allows the soul to speak. She sits there, her gaze fixed on the world racing by the window as the city transitions from the polished streets of London to the more rugged, lived-in spaces of Tottenham. She always thought of Tottenham as London’s Trench Town, in ways, those who grew up normally try and get out.

Letitia did… but Genesis isn’t there yet.

Yet, Chronixx’s soulful voice plays through the speakers, the lyrics of his version of “Smile Jamaica”, a balm to the scenes she sees. The soft hum of the music is a reminder of Jamaica, of the days spent looking for peace within herself.

As Julian’s car turns onto their street, the familiarity of the terraced apartments, each baring scars and stories of so many generations, cause Genesis’ heartbeat to pick up, just slightly. Soon, Julian parks and the engine’s cessation marks their arrival, but they just sit for a moment, neither of them making a move to leave, letting the silence between them stretch comfortably.

“Yuh sure you okay?” Julian questions quietly, finally, his voice soft, yet carrying in the small space of the car.

“Yeah.” Genesis’ reply is simple, only a short pause from the question, turning her head to offer a sheepish, closed-lipped, smile.

She then steps out of the car first, the night air flowing against her and Julian follows, leading her up to the door before unlocking it with his key and letting her in.

Ziggy was there to greet them as they enter, his presence almost a larger-than-life force in the modest entry-way. His dreadlocks are tucked into a natural toned beanie, almost framing his head, and his eyes light up when he sees Genesis.

“Gen,” He smiles gently, his arms already open for a hug.

“Zig…” Genesis replies, mustering a small smile as she walks into his embrace, his hug enveloping her easily.

They stay like that for a moment, no words said, just remaining the same, but eventually Ziggy pulls back and he steps out the way for Genesis to get to the stairs, watching as she walks past and she hears his voice say something about going out tonight, though she’s not sure if it’s directed towards her or Julian, or both, but she just keeps walking up.

Her room sits at the sharp turn right from the stairs, finding her door creaked open, and she pushes on it to reveal the chaos that awaits her. She takes in a sharp breath as she steps in, standing in the middle of the mess as she looks around, rubbing the back of her neck in annoyance with herself as she remembers the events coming back to her mind.

She was mad, pissed. She remembers turning to go walk out the room before her anger just took over, slamming her hands into the closet on her right before slamming her shoulder into it and turning to walk back into the middle of the room.

She remembers pulling down the curtains and blinds, the ones that still aren’t there, and she remembers grabbing the broom, because she was using it earlier that day to actually clean, and she just started hitting it into the window, intent on breaking it. When it wasn’t working she swung it like a bat and broke off the tail-end, but she kept going until she did manage to break the window, leaving broken glass all over her carpet.

She threw so much stuff after that, leaving it haphazardly on the floor before turning and kicking at the wall because she was still so uncontrollably mad. She had raised her leg like during knee-ups and just shoved her foot down, stumbling back slightly after the impact, but that didn’t stop her, not even when she paced a little, she continued to kick the same place repeatedly until there was a shoe sized hole there.

And that’s when she dropped to the floor, knees to her chest as she sat against her bed, arms leaning on her knees as her head dropped into her hands, and she broke down into tears, sobbing.

“We repaired the window and the wall.”

Genesis jumps, her heart skipping a beat literally as she’s harshly pulled from her memories, whirling around to find Ragga in the doorway, his presence as grounding as earth itself. He’s always had a way of moving silently, a gentle giant with eyes that seem to see through everyone’s soul.

“Me and Junior…” He continues as Genesis’ hand goes to her heart, taking in a deep breath that almost hurts, and she can’t help but chuckle slightly, turning and looking towards both objects, finding them surely fixed.

“Thank you…” She says after a moment, her voice quiet, carrying the vulnerability she normally doesn’t show out to the world.

“We’re family, Gen. We look out for each other, yeah?”

Genesis gives him a nod of understanding, watching as Ragga leaves, heading towards the stairs and Genesis turns back to the mess, glancing around the space once more, taking in all of her past before starting to clean up.

It’s not until close to midnight that things are back in place, organized, or thrown away. And exhausted from the journey and the emotional toll of the day, Genesis lets herself fall backwards onto her bed. The ceiling above is a blank canvas, stark and unyielding in its simplicity, so different from the complex tapestry of her mind. For a moment, she just lays there, breathing deeply with her eyes closed, grounding, feeling the rise and fall of her chest and listening to the hush of her room.

But soon she opens her eyes, turning her head to the right, her gaze settles on a picture that’s frame is propped up against the soft glow of her crystal lamp. The photograph— black and white, its edges worn from touch before she was able to frame it— is of a man with a joyous smile, dreads tucked under a knit beanie that lays very loosely on his head. His eyes are crinkled with genuine delight as he holds a baby close to his chest. The infant, secured in the safety of her father’s embrace, is oblivious to the depth of the moment now captured forever in time.

And Genesis whispers, a greeting that carries weight of years passed and words unspoken.

“Hi, Baba.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s grey and windy in London, as Genesis makes her way to Exmouth Coffee. The city’s waking, the air filled with the familiar cacophony of distant traffic and the talkings from early risers. The smell of coffee from the coffee shops that seem to litter every corner fill her nose, mingling with the city’s exhaust, an urban scene that Genesis has come to associate as home.

As she nears her destination, her pace slows just a little, allowing her to take in the sights and sounds of the city more. It’s so different to her now, how she sees it.

Her eyes also catch sight of Letitia waiting ahead, her silhouette unmistakable against the classical facade of the cafe. Dressed casual, she seems absorbed in her phone, a thumb moving swiftly across her screen, but the soft sound of Genesis’ footsteps on the pavement reach her ears and she looks up, her expression softening, eyes lighting up with a gentle smile.

“Morning.” Letitia murmurs as Genesis gets close, their greeting culminating in a small, affectionate, peck of lips that feel like the final piece of Genesis’ morning clicking into place.

“Morning.” Genesis repeats, her voice low but infused with warmth.

They head inside, the air thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries. They both order hot chocolate, rich and decadent, a comforting switch from the usual morning caffeine, though Genesis has never been a coffee person at all.

Sitting at a small, intimate, table, their hot chocolates steam before them as Genesis recounts the previous evening, the homecoming. Letitia listens intently, her hand over Genesis’, offering silent comfort with a gentle rub of her thumb against Genesis’ wrist.

“…I don’t know, it just felt… different.” Genesis continues, her gaze flickering to their intertwined hands.

“A lot’s changed,” Letitia nods slightly, offering the smallest closed-lipped smile.

Genesis nods, a silent agreement, eyes moving to her untouched hot chocolate, a little steam still coming off of it, by surely drinkable by now. Yet, she doesn’t take a sip. And after a moment, Letitia’s grip on Genesis’ hand tightens slightly.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” Letitia begins tentatively, breaking the silence.

Genesis meets Letitia’s gaze, her brows furrowing slightly in curiosity.

“Would you want to come to Portugal with me?”

Genesis’ eyebrows furrow even more at her question, at the randomness of it. She doesn’t understand why she would have to be there, but before she can question it, Letitia continues.

“It’s only for a couple days with a few friends.” Letitia’s voice is hesitant, a touch quieter now. “And… Fidji’s going to be-“

“Your ex?” Genesis cuts her off in question.

“Yes, but-“

“I and I…” Genesis mutters, hanging her head slightly in annoyance, causing Letitia to lean closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s not like that, I promise. This trip was planned months before.” Letitia attempts to plead her case quickly, keeping her tone as calm as possible. “I just… need you there, Gens.”

Letitia’s thumb had paused in its motion, her hand now squeezing Genesis’ gently and Genesis lifts her head, eyes searching Letitia’s worried expression, searching her eyes, looking at her.

She takes a deep breath after a moment, heavy, the weight of the decision weighing down on her chest, yet she still trusts Letitia, just enough.

“I’ll go with you.” Genesis says quietly, but firm, watching as Letitia’s face lights up. “But, to make sure yuh head stays on straight.”

“Nothing about me is straight.” Letitia murmurs in a playful tone, causing Genesis to playfully roll her eyes as Letitia chuckles giddily at herself before Genesis looks to her phone, a reminder that she has therapy in half an hour.

“‘Ight… I gotta go.” Genesis pushes herself up, her and Letitia’s hands finally separating as she grabs her hot chocolate, already in a to-go cup, slinging her bag back across her body. “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Letitia catches the reluctance in Genesis’ voice and there’s a pang of sadness in her heart, a mixture of her overthinking their conversation and the overall emotion of not wanting Genesis to leave so soon. But she nods, and Genesis leans down slightly, kissing the top of Letitia’s head, on her cornrows before she moves towards the door, and Letitia’s head turns, watching her as she walks outside, turning right, heading opposite of Letitia’s position, the cold air greeting her quickly.

The days leading up to the trip slipped by like sand through an hourglass, each grain a moment of contemplation. Genesis stands before her open crossbody bag, its contents sparse but essential. She’s never been one to overpack, not that she’s ever had too much to work with, a few items of clothing, necessary toiletries, her sketchbook, and her camera.

As the day of departure dawns bright and early, still a grey sky filling the expanse, Genesis feels a flutter of nerves as she walks into the busy airport. Letitia had texted her the meeting point, past security, and after an hour of slow lines, she’s finally able to walk towards the space, her eyes landing on the familiar figure quickly.

Letitia’s presence is a beacon, her excitement palpable even from a distance with a big smile, and as their eyes meet, her eyes light up even more as she quickly closes the gap between them, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you.” Letitia whispers, words muffled by Genesis’ shoulder.

“You just saw me.”

But Letitia just shakes her head and they hold each other a moment longer before Letitia pulls back, taking Genesis’ hand gently, intertwining their fingers, and leading her to where the rest of the group sits, a small circle of mostly unfamiliar faces, yet Letitia doesn’t push any introductions or small talk, just leading Genesis to sit, staying close, her world seemingly shrinking to just the two of them.

The whispers they exchange are soft and intimate, gentle musings, reminiscent of actors sharing a secret joke between takes, a moment of genuine connection in midst of a scripted world. Letitia’s laughter is quiet, a sound that seems reserved just for Genesis in this last week together, her eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. Their shoulders brush together occasionally, a subtle contact that speaks of a mutual desire to remain connected.

And Genesis leans in closer, just a little, her face the same as it was when she arrived, calm, collected, yet her whisper brings a small knowing smile to Letitia’s lips. It’s a dance of dialogue, tender and loving.

Across from them, Fidji observes the scene unfold. The quiet exchanges don’t escape her notice, nor does the gentle way Genesis’ fingers reach up to gently run against Letitia’s cornrows. There’s a familiarity in these gestures, a language of touch and glance that speaks volumes.

Fidji’s glance is sharp, analytical, as if she’s trying to read this new and sudden dynamic. The way Letitia’s head tilts towards Genesis, the soft glow in her eyes. It wasn’t like that when Fidji was the one on her left side. Her lips press into a thin line, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, ice clinking against the glass like a punctuation to her unspoken thoughts. There’s an unmistakeable hint of distaste in her expression that reveals more than any words can, and she looks away before either of them notice, looking back to her sisters as they still continue to converse.

The boarding call for their flight eventually breaks the cocoon around Genesis and Letitia, the group gathering their belongings, the transition from the lounge shifting the energy surrounding them. Letitia stands, her hand slipping into Genesis’ with ease once more.

They join the line, the group’s dynamic subtly shifting at the reality of the departure setting in. Letitia’s hand gently squeezes Genesis’ as she leans in close to her ear, whispering.

“You okay?”

Genesis only nods and soon they finally cross the threshold into the bridge, the tight space bringing them even closer together, their quiet whispers seeming to funnel back to them, a reflection of their words and Letitia’s laughter remains quiet but heartfelt, an affectionate sound that seeps into Genesis’ heart.

Fidji walks several paces ahead, her posture perfect and stride confident, yet there’s a tightness around her eyes, acutely aware of Genesis and Letitia’s closeness from behind her. But she doesn’t look back, her grip on her boarding pass tightening, betraying her seemingly cool exterior, but they don’t notice.

The group files onto the plane, the seats of first-class wide and inviting, something Genesis has never experienced, a promise of comfort and isolation away from others.

They find their seats, beside one another, sinking into them, and Genesis looks around at all that’s available in this small space, and her eyes fall to Letitia, who gives her an almost teasing smile. But Genesis just slowly raises the cover between them, chuckling at Letitia’s playfully offended voice, before stopping, lowering it again, only doing it originally to mess with her.

As the plane eventually begins to taxi, Genesis slouches back in her seat, head resting back, allowing the engine to be her lullaby as her eyes start to fall closed, body still recovering from jet lag, and everything around her fades into darkness.

Suddenly, she sees the expansive field in Guyana, in the distance a fire roaring, casting the sky in an ominous glow. Yet, there’s nothing more.

But a single sound pierces through— the hum. A melody that seems to emerge from the very depths of her mind, the sound leaving the same effect it always does.

It’s a tune laden with emotion and history, yet she still doesn’t recognize it, she doesn’t see it as a thread connecting her to her past, calling to her. It’s just simply there, a calming vibration in the expanse of her subconscious, pulling her gently, leading her deeper in sleep.

As Genesis fades further into the dream, the landscape of which she sees begins to dissolve into shadow and the hum becomes everything, a soothing lullaby carrying her away and into the darkness. And soon, there’s only stillness.

Just the hum and the dark

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Morning in Lisbon greets Genesis with a subtle shift, one she been observing silently since the night prior, Letitia’s generosity in paying for the suite, now seemingly fostering a sense of entitlement among the sisters, the ease in which they take her kindness as due.

They spent the morning exploring the city’s streets, walking as a group, but Letitia, who was a constant at Genesis’ side the day before, now moves with fluidity ahead, and Genesis’ eyes are on her back as she walks slightly behind Fidji, talking with her quietly and Genesis hears her laugh.

She lags behind, letting the distance grow, a small experiment to test if her absence from the constellation is noticed. But the movement and conversation just continues to move forward without pause, laughter and playful musings rising over the quiet-ish streets.

And Genesis only sighs, maintaining her pace as the pieces in her mind start to connect.

As the day trails on, Genesis notices the same things over and over, Letitia’s personality shifting to a person she’s not even sure she recognizes. It’s been her fear since that night in Milan, maybe even a little before that, and she knew she was going to have to keep an eye on it, and it’s what she expected.

They’re at a club in the night, a little separation in the group, maybe needed. Letitia and her friends are kind of gathered, drinking wine or whatever thing of alcohol is desired at the time, but Genesis remains in her quiet corner.

Letitia’s gaze lingers on Genesis from across the room, watching as she’s engaged in easy conversation with a girl who’s a stranger to them both. There’s an unmistakable tightness that grips Letitia’s heart, an unbidden discomfort at the sight of Genesis’ gentle laughter, even tentative, being shared with someone else. When the girl departs, leaving Genesis in her peace against the wall, Letitia feels the pull towards her, discarding her half-finished drink on the bar, weaving through the crowd towards Genesis.

“Who was that?” Letitia questions, standing close enough now to notice the subtle shift in Genesis’ demeanor.

“Nobody you need to be worried of,” Genesis replies, her voice light, almost teasing, chuckling slightly as she relaxes further against the cool wall.

“And you’re laughing?” Letitia can’t help but add, the tightness in her chest now manifesting in her words.

A beat of silence falls between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and Genesis pushes off from the wall and edged toward the exit after a moment.

“I need some air.” She mutters, eyes remaining away from Letitia and heading outside. Yet, she doesn’t get far before she hears Letitia’s footsteps behind her, followed by her voice.

“Where are you going?” Letitia asks, following after her quickly, yet Genesis continues forward. But Letitia soon catches her, moving her body in front of hers, blocking her path.

“Move!” She calls out to her, but Letitia doesn’t budge, and Genesis pushes her back lightly, freezing in her steps. “Move, Tish!”

The reaction causes for Letitia to look at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed towards her, but Genesis’ expression is firm.

“Why you acting like some jealous teenage boy? Now you notice me, eh?”

“You think things changed suddenly? To make you go do that?” She motions to the club.

“Some things definitely changed.” Genesis says bitterly, eyes remaining on Letitia’s. “Whenever you used to do all this, the parties, the clubs, go with all types of people from who knows where doing who knows what. I know why yuh friends leave-“

“They left cause them didn’t like the life.” Letitia’s very adamant, speaking with her hands, but Genesis shakes her head. “What do you want me to do? Just suffer and suffer-“

“We are suffering, I done suffer and you didn’t even know!“ Genesis raises her voice. “Yuh used to come and go, I had to watch you with all those women-“

“And you’re any different?”

In that moment, a sound falls off of Genesis’ lips, a slight sucking sound, audible of distaste and annoyance as she attempts to walk past her again, only to have her bicep grabbed and Genesis swings, her hand coming into contact with Letitia’s cheek, the sound not too harsh, but audible enough to turn Letitia’s head, her hand flying to her cheek as she turns her head back towards her, yet it’s not from pain, but from the surprise of Genesis’ action. A rare break in her always steady composure both of them staring at each other in the tension.

“Who really care for you, Tish? Your ‘friends’… spending all your money, using your likeness…”

In the aftermath of the unexpected contact, a shock runs through both women, an electric current of reality jarring them from the night’s indulgent fantasy.

“You swim in pollution, you get polluted,” Genesis continues, pressing her finger to her chest with conviction, her gesture punctuating her plea. It’s a reminder of their shared values, of conversations that had previously woven the fabric of their bond—conversations about authenticity, integrity, and the seductive danger of losing oneself to a world that takes more than it gives.

Their eyes lock then, two forces of nature caught in a moment of raw honesty. Genesis’ words hanging in the air between them, a stark truth that strips away the veneer of the evening’s glamour.

“We used to talk of this and everything else when you only had a few fancy shirts!” Genesis’s fingers grip the material of Letitia’s jacket, a tactile echo of her words. “It’s time to wake up. Wake up, Tish!”

The air around them is charged with the intensity of the moment. Letitia’s eyes, previously hardened by defensiveness, are now more gentle, the layers of realization and vulnerability blending into a look of awakening. She can see Genesis— not just the woman before her, but the essence of the person she knows, the one who has always dared to speak the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. The one who’s always been there to catch her.

And she can finally see the reality of the life she’s brought onto herself

Increasing overwhelmed and overstimulated, Genesis attempts to pull away, a well of emotions churning inside her, starting to walk off, but Letitia’s instincts kick in quickly. She catches up, reaching out swiftly, her fingers wrapping around Genesis’s forearm, an unspoken plea for her to not react like she did a moment ago. Genesis’ muscles tense in response, her instinct to flee momentarily overwhelming her desire to reconcile, something Letitia can feel.

“Genesis, wait,” Letitia implores, her voice tinged with desperation.

Genesis’s movement doesn’t halt much, though her body language speaks of her inner turmoil. She continues to try and step forward, to extricate herself from the situation, but Letitia isn’t letting her slip away, not now, not like this.

In a fluid motion born out of urgency, Letitia steps closer, her arms encircling Genesis in a firm yet gentle hold.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, her voice a whisper against the night. “Please.”

Genesis’ natural instinct is to resist, to shake off the hold and find refuge in the quiet streets of Lisbon. She still tries to pull away, her movements born of a reflex to escape confrontation and vulnerability. But Letitia, driven by a sudden clarity of what’s at stake, refuses to let her go again.

“I’m sorry…” Letitia murmurs again, a mantra of reconciliation. “I’m sorry…”

The words reverberate through the small space they occupy, weaving a spell that seems to slow the world around them. Genesis can hear the genuine regret in Letitia’s tone, the vibration of her voice repeating the words over and over in her ear, resonating with a truth that’s impossible to ignore.

And something in Genesis yields, a wall within her crumbling, allowing the sincerity of the moment to seep through the cracks. Her body relaxes against Letitia’s, the fight to pull away diminishing with each shared breath, each whispered word.

In the cocoon of Letitia’s arms, Genesis allows the silence to envelop them, a sanctuary from the night’s earlier chaos, now filled only with the sound of their breathing and the distant melody from the club’s interior.

The embrace becomes their entire world, a haven amidst uncertainty. Letitia’s apologies still continue, even more hushed, hanging in the air, her breath warm on Genesis’s ear, a silent testament to the intensity of the moment.

Genesis soon shifts ever so slightly, her movements delicate but intentional, gently pulling Letitia back enough to see her face, and without a word, Genesis closes the small distance between them, pressing her lips to Letitia’s, shutting up her quiet ramble, grounding her.

The kiss lingers, a slow and gentle mingling that speaks volumes, each soft brush of their lips a reaffirmation of connection and care. And when they finally pull away, there’s a breathless quality to the space between them, as if the air itself is charged with the intensity and tension radiating off of them.

Letitia’s eyes remain closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling. Genesis’ does as well, brushing a thumb across Letitia’s cheek, tracing the line where her own hand had made contact earlier, erasing any remnants of the night’s earlier tension.

“Don’t lose yourself… yuh hear?” Genesis voices quietly, voice still breathless. “And you do all that again and I’m gone.”

There’s silence between them even as Letitia nods in understanding, relaxing under Genesis’ touch.

Letitia’s eyes flutter open, her gaze looking upon Genesis with a vulnerability that only the raw honesty of love can elicit, the threat hanging in the air between them is a revelation, a crystallizing moment that anchors Letitia to the spot.

They head back to the hotel with fingers entwined, Letitia leading the way to a newly acquired room, a decision made in silent understanding that they need isolation from the sisters, from everything that can intrude on the sanctity of the newfound understanding. She procurers them their own space, a quiet sanctuary where the outside world can be kept at bay, allowing them to be alone with each other and their thoughts.

The room’s dimly lit, the soft glow of bedside lamps casting gentle shadows across the walls, creating a cocoon of warmth and privacy. They lay side by side on the bed, their bodies close but not touching, enveloped in a shared silence that’s as comforting as it is communicative. The tumultuous emotions of the night have given way to a calm understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the depth of their connection.

As they lay there, the noise of the city seems distant, irrelevant even. The quiet between them, a healing space, a soft fabric woven from threads of tension and tender realization. Letitia soon turns her head to look at Genesis, her eyes conveying the emotions that words can scarcely capture.

“Thank you,” She whispered, her voice barely audible yet clear in the stillness of the room. “Thank you for finding me.”

It’s a simple statement, but laden with meaning—recognition of how Genesis has seen through the facade, has reached past the surface and pulled Letitia back from the brink of losing herself. It’s an acknowledgment of Genesis’s strength, her unwillingness to let Letitia drift away, and her courage in confronting the painful truths.

Genesis turns to face Letitia, their eyes meeting in the semi-darkness, a silent conversation passing between them. She reaches out then, her hand gently brushing Letitia’s cheek once more, a mirror of the earlier gesture that had marked the beginning of their night’s emotional journey.

Her gaze is full of emotion and in the semi-darkness, their eyes lock, communicating more than words ever can. The air around them seems charged with the intensity of their connection, each breath a shared rhythm.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Genesis leans in, pressing her lips to Letitia’s in a kiss.

And she can feel it. How the woman she knew had returned to her.

#letitia wright #letitia wright fanfic #letitia fanfic #shai’s oc #no woman no cry fic

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ohyousillything · 1 year

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I love the idea of Cody being anakin's superior officer. Like i know anakin is general, but the clones have the only real war training here, so Maybe Cody is like supervisor to generals with no experience.

I imagine Cody loathes anakin at first sight. He dislikes his brash Nature and the way he seems to have obiwan wrapped around his little finger. He hates that Rex worships anakin and that more often than not anakin's leadership choices end up with his vode in danger or injury, and that obi wan is just that tad bit more reckless when anakin is around. I see Cody as this inherently logical, practical guy, and anakin is the absolute opposite.

But i also picture Cody as a selfless, emphatetic person, and i think he wouldnt hold any of his own feelings against anakin. so he challenges anakin's every reckless plan with well Made strategies. He cuts into anakin's rash desicion making process and shows him how to weight odds and calculate risks. He makes him walk through every possible outcome before setting things in motion and teaches him how to deal with the fallout of a Bad desicion. He makes anakin walk through the aftermath of a battle, tend to the wounded, learn about wasted economies and hunger and the pain of civilians in destroyer worlds and helps anakin reach into the part of himself that understands all that, helps him work through his anger and negative Feelings by helping others, running relief missions, doing papaework. Because anakin was a tatooine slave, he knows about pain and poverty, so Cody makes him help people in menial missions between battle and it helps him connect with himself and his past experiences.

Anakin likes Cody Because he takes no shit from anyone and Because he never lets up, even when anakin is a brat or when he blows up after a failed mission. Where the Jedi would give him a lecture about cotrolling his Feelings and the darkside, where obi wan would look at him with dissapointment and guilt, Cody just raises an eyebrow and dares him to do better next time. And so anakin tries harder next time, and he does better.

and maybe they Bond over shared experiences of being belittled, of being treated as less than a person, and over their shared love of obi wan. And maybe anakin learns that having Feelings is ok, so long as You don't let them get in the way of being a good person.

Maybe Cody tells anakin about how the fear of losing his vode is a part of himself, but he never lets it drive him. Maybe he teaches anakin the recitation he says every night, where he lists all his vode that now march the stars. And maybe anakin tells Cody about shmi and about his dreams, and maybe Cody ads her to his list, and they start saying it together. Maybe anakin learns how to grieve without loss becoming a festering wound.

Maybe when he starts dreaming of padme's death he tells Cody first, and maybe Cody actually listens, seeing as the kid's dreams have come true before. Maybe its Cody anakin goes to, when the order makes him spy on palpatine. And maybe Cody tells him about his doubts regarding the Republic and the Chancellor, and maybe anakin listens. And maybe it's Cody anakin calls first, when palpatine reveals himself, and maybe Cody listens to him and trusts him, and they make a plan, they filter the info to obi wan and other Jedi through the vode. Maybe it helps them ride out order 66.

Maybe people still die and things Go to shit, but at least anakin has someone in his corner that gives less than two fucks about the force or the darkside, and who trusts him Because he's anakin and not Because he's the chosen one or whatever, someone who understands, and that helps him make better choices.

Cody's just a good guy doing his job and doing it well, and if that means he has to become a father figure to a guy 10+ years older than himself then so be it. And maybe a bunch of random acts of kindness make the galaxy a better place.

#anakin headcanon #anakin skywalker #commander cody #codywan #the clone wars #sw tcw #star wars #obi wan kenobi #Stern but loving father Cody #Anakin fears and respects him #Cody as anakin's mentor

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ironstakes · 7 months

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Naturalized Etho design sketch for my thing. I figure totems and maybe some armor can be jewelry but I'm working on that, hence the totem armband. More rambles under the cut.

I'm pondering about modded armor that the narturalized Hermits might be able to wear and I think that enchanted jewelry could be pretty flexible with connecting the minecraft mechanics to how Naruto's world works. Impulse is a gem merchant outside of Hermittown if you remember all the way back to chapter 1 and I think it'd be cool if I could tie that back in to minecraft logic. Plus it would mesh better with locations I've described like the marble bridge- what if the gems light up or ward away endermen or protect carved details from the elements? As of now Kakashi has no explanation for the opulence and with how capitalistic Hermits can be I need a reason for them to not have tanked the economy of the elemental nations. So the gems need to have some kind of function beyond tool making.

If you guys saw the (now kinda outdated) Grian design then you might have noticed that the workgloves are shorter... a lot shorter. I'm debating glove lengths and drew them short here but I'm considering giving Etho long gloves. Notice the marring on his arm- that's a redstone burn. My thinking is that redstone is dangerous to non-minecraft entity peeps and so the naturalized Hermits that work with redstone regularly would have larger, thicker work gloves to protect their hands and arms. I am toying with the idea of having gems in the gloves. I'm not sure what they'd do yet but gem gloves feel very modded minecraft to me.

The belt is pretty thick... but that feels minecrafty to me and I hate drawing the edges of well fitted shirts. So thick leather belt. The sticks with the gems in the tops (and the bottoms) are the modded tools (they are collapsible and the gems correspond to the material the tool/weapon is made of) and the book is basically an inventory, but can store more. The naturalized hermits may not be minecrafters at the minute but that's not going to stop them from emulating their normal selves to the best of their abilities.

I've been going back and forth on long v short hair designs for Etho and I've narrowed the designs down to two different possibilities... but one is still long and one is still short (this one actually). Ugh. I'm working on fleshing it out.

Etho doesn't have a red eye, he's got a "blind" eye. Basically with the mods of the Naruto world the replacement eye looks physically blind but is functionally a regular eye. They haven't figured out/haven't looked into how to change its color (yet). Why does he have a replacement eye? Well, that'd be because Etho had two eyes after being naturalized, the world recognized that's not what the real Etho looks like and put him in a position to get it "fixed" (and the same is true of other traits in this universe, like Scar's scars which were gained in the same event actually).

Similarly to the glove dilemma I'm trying to see if I can work in patterns onto the Hermit's sleeveless shirt things. But as I look into Naruto's design choices and such it seems increasingly unlikely; it'd be too distinct in-world. Originally Etho had a creeper-face pattern on his shirt.

But I am giving every naturalized Hermit ugly leather boots, no way around that.

Etho is 32 here and I want him to be just slightly taller or shorter than Kakashi... I haven't decided which.

#etho #digitalsketch #I used the kakashi sheets from setti liberally #This is my third version of yctib Etho btw #And I'm like 80% sure I'm going to change it again #thoughtful rambles #yctib #hcxnaruto #hermitcraftxnaruto

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soldier-poet-king · 4 months

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Anyway made myself upset thinking about my parents again (ofc it's nearly Christmas)

and like how they weren't technically abusive and it was all just kinda. Emotional neglect, unintentional(?) manipulation, so much shit born out of their own issues and immaturity and their own suffering. And like yeah. Okay. Maybe it (mostly) wasn't intentional, and wasn't my fault. But it still feels like my fault, my responsibility. It's still my burden to live with for the rest of my life, and it's still my personality, my inability to make connections and trust, my fucked up 'attachment style's or whatever, that suffered the consequences.

And maybe things are marginally better than they were when I was peak vulnerable and they were peak bad. But that just makes me fear I made it all up? In my head? And it IS just me and all my fault, despite my father outright admitting all these horrible things about the way my mother feels about me, despite their ongoing bullshit, despite the consensus amongst all the siblings about how fucked it is, and how I specifically was the least loved child?

Idk. Its a guilty wish, sometimes, that things had been worse. That there was some definitive /event/ to point to, as proof, as an excuse, as a reason that I'm Like This, and not just the slow, near invisible grinding down beneath their passive aggression over the years. How can you measure the effect of their behaviour on a child who was already of an anxious disposition, but never to this extent? How can you count the costs, see what was lost, when I was never allowed to grow into a person outside of it all? I'm STILL not a person, not really, not a full one at least.

And still, still the enduring wish that it had been worse. So I'd feel less crazy. More justified. So I'd have an excuse to leave and cut the strings with finality. So I wouldn't have to keep playing this game, balancing this dance, even as I reap the (financial) benefits of of not having to be completely independent in this economy. And yet. And yet. How can we count the costs?

If things are marginally better, is it because I made it up? Because I matured and put in the work on my end and am trying to handle myself? Because I learned how to more carefully walk on eggshells and navigate this? Because I simply stopped outwardly caring? Or are they better? Are they capable of being better? They're still awful to each other, and it spills over onto me constantly, but it's not /as/ bad as it was when I was my youngest brother's age. Were they always capable of that? Was I simply not worth the effort to change for? Not worth the effort to try and help, to save?

And I have to live the rest of my life like this? Not just with all the fragile shattered spiky bits of my non-self, but also always doing this dance with them? Always the tension and the guilt because I want and need to leave, but that's just Not Done, and I can't, won't, be my mother, practically glued at the hip to her aging mother. But I know I'm the only one of my siblings responsible enough to be the one to step up at take care of them as they age, regardless if I need to move cross country and change my name and never return. I know it'll fall to me, even as I was the one most damaged by them. There is no way our, no reconciliation at the happy ending, no fixing this in a way that matters. But there's no justification for my leaving, my escape either. If I cannot wish evil on my genuine enemies, how can I not care for them when they eventually age? My conscience won't let me, even as I know it'll kill whatever's left of my heart, to be stuck with them, again. Its a long ways off, they're young still. And yet. And yet.

Idk. I hate the holidays. I'm glad I'll be out of the house for most of them save Christmas Eve & day itself. It'll be lonely, perhaps, it usually is, and I'll be melancholy and drink too much wine and lay about being morose. But at least it'll be on my own terms.

#the duality of fran #ignore this i just. idm #i was suddenly very sad and upset #and if i didn't write it out i wouldnt be able to get back to work #and i rlly wanted to get thru this fonds by the end of the day

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ghelgheli · 18 days

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What did you think of the 2022-23 protests in Iran? Were they an attempted color revolution? I've seen that argument which is strange but at the same time it seems like any power vacuum would lead to chaos and a US approved puppet taking over so maybe the protesters were wrong even if sincere

i don't know that i can make any claims about "the" protesters being wrong or right—there was never a unified base in the protests that followed the killing of jina emini, and those involved included such varied groups as ethnic minorities demanding autonomy, ethnic persian feminists (sometimes bourgeoisie) claiming the struggle for themselves, working class demonstrators connecting the ethnic struggle to a broader labour struggle, anarchist blocs protesting the state as a whole, various intersections of these, and yes, certainly some who would have been pushing for american interventionism and something that you might call a colour revolution. in pretty much all of these cases we are talking about causes with long continuity, connected to ongoing movements protesting e.g. the rapidly worsening economic conditions under sanctions and inflation, water food and fuel scarcity, women's and lgbt struggles... the killing was a flashpoint but i do not think i can talk about the subsequent protests in isolation. some of the protesters may have been well-intentioned but ideologically misled, and i am sure that plenty of others knew exactly what it is they needed to do

in any case, what concerns me are claims to the effect of the one here, that revolutionary action is too risky as it will compromise the strength of the iranian state and invite american intervention. i don't know that i'd call myself a third-worldist, but this is strikes me as the precise converse of third-worldism, i.e. the claim that there is no revolutionary potential in the global south until the global north is unseated from its hegemony. and that is imo just wrong. the IRI, as a country with a pretty straightforwardly capitalist economy which has spent the last century undergoing massive industrialization and corresponding urbanization + proletarianization, can only transition into a socialist mode of production by a revolution. afaik the present state of labour organization is very weak, but to take a principled opposition to revolution because it would invite the US to assert its power is pessimistic in the extreme, fatalistic even.

it is the nature of revolutionary struggle in the global south that everything that is done must take into account the omnipresent threat of imperialism, but that is not to say that this is impossible. the '79 revolution was itself an anti-imperialist success, for all of its failures. i don't think revolution is coming soon to iran, but nor do i think it has to wait for the further decline of the usamerican empire; in fact, i think it can play a role in this decline, eventually

#ask answer #sry that this is pretty sketchy #the specifics of contemporary iranian economy are smth i am behind on

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crunchchute · 4 months

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need to know when exactly hw2 is taking place so that i can work it into my headcanons cause right now its just not fitting at all. a lot of "..unless?" but i wont know until i get the timeline (more under cut i guess. spoiler territory ahead 🚨🚨)

also i had 6 hours of copium for my sleeptime. if youre a hater just take this as if i was pulling this out of my ass, unless you agree, in which case youre welcome to comment or. nod in agreement.

so how does this help wanted economy affect the fazcoin?

but no for real now. to preface im very forgetful when it comes to fnaf lore and i sometimes miss some plot points and many times they affect my headcanons (once i remember them) but i cant check everything. im just forming my own little timeline with my own ideas i guess, but i still want it to be canon adjacent So!

i believed that its taking place post SB, pre Ruin. which i was super happy with as i was worried it would be pre-SB and not give enough lore that i crave. however, just as ive seen some people say, this didnt help with the lore much, and it just got more confusing for me. still a fantastic game but from a lore point it doesnt give us anything too big or a conclusion (well. maybe one) i also saw people say its post ruin, which i dont agree with but i would agree with during ruin. (when ppl say cassie is the player, i dont think so, need more arguments) its unclear once people bring in other arguments than the obvious roxy's mask or the state of the pizzaplex. but basically as an afton believer its hard for me to work around this, but i will try. never back down never what?

so my hc is iykyk, scraptrap->man in the room->ghost/amalgamation->latching onto tech and the mimic in the form of glitch and burntrap->mimic "shedding" him->wills ghost forming mxes; it also works without the frights books but the afton amalgamation and everything around it is too cool to not use. i fucking love ruinborn afton graaaaah *tears shirt apart* i also liked the idea of his spirit shattering and a piece of it forming glitchtrap for years, and i believe it can coexist with mimic, i think burntrap was real and is both mimic and afton.

now. this game. really messing it up for me as glitchtrap existing post or during burntrap just doesnt make sense, i dont want -trap multiples or something (sounds like the years old 2-3 purple guys theory lmao) but i will look into it as glitchtrap and mxes connection..? honestly, i really expected getting to see burntrap here (or at least mimic shown). was burntrap like retconned or something for real??? also still dont understand when people say burntrap isnt the mimic or whatever. no, it is, just with something a little extra on. and that extra is again, wills ghost or remnant or whatever you wanna call it, symbolized by the bonnie parts on his endo, but theres also flesh so yeah, as funny as it sounds i fuck with the afton homunculus growing over mimic theory. its stupid enough, he would do it.

but i wanna focus on mxes, i knew we wouldnt see the entity in the game, didnt expect it. but i also didnt expect the system to show up, which it did, but obviously not the entity yet as i believe they were formed only after burntrap has been "scooped" by tangle (comparing the scooper mimic ending and the burntrap one as a parallel) i just dont understand how glitchtrap is in here. thats the thing i cant figure out! this is 100% post SB so at that point glitchtrap is just gone. how did we get him back now? only ends up with me reaching with like MEGA SPOILERS the vanny ending crushing glitchtrap being a metaphor of her locking away or deleting the code. extreme reaching would be stuffing it into the mxes system where glitch would turn into the entity. but thats way too loose, but ive seen many people call the mxes entity glitchtrap, which doesnt even work with their theory that glitchtrap is mimic, because the entity is obviously not the mimic. like you have to consider this too, not just mimicmimicmimic but then agree that a glitchy rabbit is similar to another glitchy rabbit

lost my thread of thought. and thought of how this all is just, an end to glitchtrap era and only mimic in the future. well.. without an evil rabbit, fnaf will lose its charm for me, i dont know if vanny!cassie would save it for me, i only want wiwi. more wiwi, no mimi *starts glowing red and then explodes* anyway its not that bad. as long as i get to see the mxes entity again i will be good. and as long as im right about the clickteam game, i will be happy :D

also im intrigued by the fallfest showing up again, i really want to see how the maps look and look at all the details.. but in general the area is either underneath or next to the pizzaplex, the body of water in curse of dreadbear imo is the same as the underground water in ruin and hw2 to me confirmed that it truly is all in one place (goes nowhere with this). i love how the hw2 hub is in the pizzasim building. also, another thing, need to check it out again but i want to see if scrap baby is in a vr level or reality so i can theorize about scraptrap, as in, if at least tangle and scrap baby are still around and real in the plex, it would make sense for scraptrap to not show up because he has gone through digitization /j you know the whole pipeline. and so on and so forth

anyway im gonna pet my dogs and maybe read tse and then get back to hw2 in the afternoon. just getting this out of the system and my brain

#i love how when i write these thoughts my english just devolves into a 7yo writing an essay #but yeah. im like 7 and im writing about my favorite character :]#sorry i never have better words or think of better sentences i just translate my thoughts. bare minimum #crunching #gave up on writing more actually. would be longer but im facing reality 😔#i also accept counter arguments if youre civil #but id rather just stay in my daydream and think that bnuyy wiwi :]#thatse it #waffling about william 2 #<- will use this tag to find my rants later and laugh and lmao at them because i always get shit wrong in these #the one i did about the fnaf movie and my expectations for it was hilarious to look back at. what a naive little guy #wrote this in like an hour. maybe two. time well spent (lie)#long post

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fumblingmusings · 1 year

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Imagine being Portugal in the 1760s. You've just had that awful awful awful earthquake and so many have died and your capital kind of went kapoot but the Netherlands and Hamburg have sent aid and of course England gives you like £200,000 worth of aid in food and money as well as ships to protect Lisbon from pirates and of course you take it considering that its England and you're Portugal and they've sent you more than anyone else in Europe (never-mind that they kind of maybe made you turn down French and Spanish aid for fear of upsetting them and they kind of maybe are exerting just a bit too much control over your economy shhhhhhhhh) only to get invaded by Spain and then you then read that the reason for this is that some in Europe (fucking Spain) blame England for all the death like

"...in a famous pamphlet, printed lately at Madrid... It is entitled a Spanish prophecy, and endeavours to show, that all these calamities have befallen the Portuguese, solely because of their connection with the heretic English..."

So the pamphlet was written at the time Spain had invaded Portugal (again) for the sake of 'liberating' it (again) and now English soldiers have arrived to help boot them out (again) so the Spanish were trying to justify whatever way they could for rocking up.

We're invading you to free you from foreign influences honest...

#when you kiss a person who worships God wrong your city falls into the sea: true facts in 18th Century Europe #hetalia #hws england #hws portugal #hws spain #porteng #headcanon #~jealousy~#op #historical hetalia

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sugar-petals · 2 years

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masterpost | instinct variants

since there’s been a rennaissance of mbti in kpop, i’ll introduce you to a related personality typing tool that might interest you. instinct variants!

the three instincts in this system are commonly combined with the mbti to further specify/subtype it (hence it’s called ‘variant’) and, maybe you’ve heard of it, one’s enneagram personality type. but you can also type yourself or others separately, it’s not 100% tied to it. this post will introduce the typology on its own so you can apply it however you want.

:: why “instincts”? because these archetypes indicate the person’s priority in life to secure their well-being, survival, and self-fulfillment. it’s about human instinct, orientation, what compels you.

🍓if you like motivation psychology, this is a great basic way to find out and categorize what drives you/someone. it’s absolutely eye-opening.

so what are the three instincts?

let’s just jump right into it.

we all use ‘em, just by different intensity:

↦ self-preservation (SP), sexual (SX), and social (SO).

that basically covers every area of life. they can be described and associated with the symbolic 6 elements (fire, water, earth, air, metal, wood) like this:

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:: 🍎 SELF-PRESERVATION INSTINCT

SP - being preoccupied with the body, immediate environment, daily life, food intake, state of health, housing/home, room temperature, mundane affairs, weather/climate, close-by nature, money, physicality, pleasure or harm of the senses, decor/interior, your things: ‘stuff’, stability, maintenance, economy, cleanliness, transport, property, errands, constancy, business, boundaries, stress, clothing, travel, any living foundations and resources. # PRIMARY FEAR: mortality, sickness, annihilation, poverty

🌳 ELEMENT: earth/wood/metal - solidity, lasting, groundwork

+ common misconception: “only sensing types = self-preservation!”. intuitives can also tap into SP, especially when they use logic. say, an ENTJ could use the self-pres instinct more than an ISFP in some cases.

🌹 SP EXAMPLE. bts’ min yoongi

yoongi is most known for copious producing. he surrounds himself with work, being a calming presence in person. he’s reserved rather than an energizer bunny or a deliberate center of attention. yoongi handles living area repairs, keeping his body warm, cooking, material/financial security, music equipment, and his sleep to a fault. extremely domestic, grounded, and task-oriented. his personality is very ‘earth’.

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:: 🍎 SEXUAL INSTINCT

SX - seeking stimulation, merging, passionate outlets, immersion, one’s impulses/urge, chemistry, aliveness, excitement, fusion with/taking in whole an abstract subject/person/activity, fiery thrill, desire, steaminess, arousal, turn-ons/offs, craving VS repulsion, one’s impact, showing the underbelly, risk, surrender, obsession-compulsion, bonding, taboo, attraction or disruption, mating strategy, rawness, grit, edge, being a peacock = flaunting yourself. # PRIMARY FEAR: incompleteness, attraction loss, non-desirability

🔥💧ELEMENT: fire/water - instability, energy, back and forth

+ common misconception: “only this instinct is responsible for relationship topics and sex”. SP also entails stable relations in the home, and reproduction. while SO is a major component in forming interpersonal bonds.

🌹 SX EXAMPLE. shinee’s lee taemin

taemin captivates with alluring stage displays focused on seduction, attractiveness, eroticism, dare. he toys with danger, darkness, S&M, and his work explores gender-nonconformity. taemin gets under the viewer’s skin. he’s characterized as a cheeky flirt, fashionable tease, and provocateur with interests and choreos that would make other people flinch. his personality is very ‘fire & water´.

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:: 🍎 SOCIAL INSTINCT

SO - an interest in social surrounding, community, harmonious connection, social protocol, pecking order, looking to others, being a member of sth to derive identity, group safety, bigger causes, competitions, affiliations, broadcasting, self-display, social movements, good/bad people distinction, social graces, upbringing, acceptance, altruism, etiquette, herd mentality, cohesion, family orientation, politics, history/tradition, being ‘seen as ___’, language, articulation, social media, trends. # PRIMARY FEAR: loneliness, alienation, inferiority

💨ELEMENT: air/wind - mobility, communication, fluidity

+ common misconceptions: “people who use SO a lot are extroverts/social butterflies/feelers with a high EQ”. while that is often true, you could be an ISTJ who very much values keeping up community-wise over SP and SX.

🌹 SO EXAMPLE. nct’s mark lee

mark is everywhere you look. he can fit into any subgroup that’s new on the scene. he’s equipped with the latest internet slang and memes - always following the pulse of time and its thousand people projects. mark is seen as a posterboy of his generation, everyone’s younger brother. he’s a guy who can strike conversation with anybody, juggling several fandoms in several languages. his personality is very ‘air´.

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typing people is only the beginning, you can also apply the instincts to general phenomena! for instance.

- instinct examples from the kpop world:

🍒 SP: merch giveaways, ticketing process, designers/sponsors, advertisements, filming and setting equipment, stocks, pop-up stores, physical fanart, food as variety show competition prizes, idol’s dorms, concert logistics, dance studios, physical copies/photocards, organization and schedule, cooking shows, diets, sales, airport touchdowns, idols working out, staff and directors, companies

🍒 SX: music video concepts, fanfic and scenario writers, wake-up bubble messages, one-on-one fanmeets, shipping, youtube fancam compilations, relay cams, aegyo, high note battles, dating bans, things you write in the tags, banger music, choreography, delulus/sasaengs, controversies, group visuals, attractive makeup, niche content creators, romance drama acting, the group center, choosing your bias

🍒 SO: huge scale fansigns, meme creators, multifandom, comebacks, halloween parties, fandom wars, variety shows, clout, viral moments, mascots, fanzines, censorship, music & award shows, kpop slang words, stan twitter, scandals, popular content creators, hierarchy roles (maknae etc), kpop blogs and news outlets/kpop journalism, photoshoots, a concert queue/audience, trainees, debuts and releases, fanchants

☞ see what you pay the most attention to and care the most, where you’re sort of up to date/care a little, and where you don’t keep up with/have no clue. it’ll say everything about which instinct is how strong in you.

how instincts come together

needless to say, these areas overlap and merge. mistyping can be common as this theory intersects three instincts /in relation/ to one another rather than assigning you only one and you’re ready to go.

↳ 🍉 everyone will use a combination of two (!) at once most of the time, one stronger, the other moderate, while disregarding the third. mark, for instance, uses extra SP with his SO, and SX less so. he is an idol that’s more of a cozy social butterfly (SO + SP) rather than having an enticing, intense sensual image like say skz’ hyunjin (SX + SP) that cuts to the chase.

↳ 🍉 almost everyone will hyperfocus on a singular area. attention: SX being a sort of hyperfocus itself, it’s sometimes hard to distinguish. so remember that SX is about human chemistry. in any case — there’s always one strongest instinct contender. hence the other two diminish. the instinct of secondary priority to you will sort of operate in the background. for instance, bts’ jhope’s tidy SP works behind his upbeat SO instinct.

↳ 🍉 in the rare case of someone using all three instincts equally well, they will still have a preference towards one or two and shrug off the third. two instincts always develop at the expense of another one. but are there such people who can do it all? nct’s taeyong strikes me as such:

he looks after over 20 people to ensure inclusion (SO), projects an immense attractive effect on others (SX), cares about cooking/clothing/caring for himself, others and animals (SP). he might have been appointed as nct’s leader as he’s so capable in all instincts. nevertheless, his caregiving SP is his strongest drive, the major theme, added to his sensing function.

...most people have a tendency and crucial order of priority anyway, which i’ll show you now:

instinct stackings

you have a primary instinct, secondary instinct, and blind spot.

😱 the first is the burning focus that’s very set in its tracks: something you almost anxiously/desperately push for. you feel like this piece is missing in your life, so you follow a strong pull. this prevailing motivation is intrinstic, powerful, and on auto pilot. other people will immediately see it in you, while you take it for granted to such a degree you might be unaware. even if you’re not good at it, you want to handle it all by yourself. this area in life is constantly sought-out.

😊 the second is your successful and more laid-back way of going about the first. sort of like a carefree playground, a resource, the home base. it’s the somewhat stashed-away superpower, your area of supporting adjustment to satisfy your dominant 1st drive. the pressure is off here, it’s ‘not that deep’ to you. you ask for help but also can manage by yourself, always adequately so. the secondary instinct feels available and comfortable to the person. there is no extra effort needed. this instinct also keeps other people (!) who overuse or underuse it at bay.

😴 the last is the sacrifice or consequence. your dormant drive that’s blocked out, underdeveloped. it can exhaust you easily when tapped into. it’s an area of awkward insecurity; something you will not wanna talk about. you’re too unbothered, so it wreaks havoc, but you’re also rather ‘free’ from its chains until it suddenly becomes necessary in a situation. you dismiss this overwhelming area of life, compensate with the other instincts. you depend on other people to help you with it.

see how like with stacking together blocks of mbti functions, we slowly move into building individual types by putting instincts into positions of preference?

in essence, the first aka dominant and last instinct positions take things to an extreme (too much VS lack). the middle instinct is usually in perfect tune rather than biting off more than it can chew, or underperforming and never minding the topic at all. you have an entire ‘scale’ right there. and so it follows:

🍓SP in the stacking

SP doms overemphasize dealing with material safety nets and their own body, tidying and organizing and preserving and hustling to survive, building things up to last. they chase their every personal need and self-protect at all costs. (e.g. kun, jennie, xiumin, bom, shownu)

SP 2nds take care of themselves/others as a means to an end checking off all basic survival boxes (e.g. healthy diet, stable income), but don’t take material safety and health to an extreme. they are adequately hands-on, bothering with climate, finance, and living structures in balance. (e.g. wonho, j-hope, chen)

SP blind spots neglect their physical wellbeing and would rather not self-monitor. they eschew topics of proper providing, long-term resources, their living situation/environment. they are anti-conservation with everything and prefer deep transformation, going all out and creating a spark. (e.g. jimin, felix, lisa)

🍓SX in the stacking

SX doms recklessly pursue the juice of a situation, dig deep, divide the masses, go buckwild, and come on very strong, explicit, and shocking. they’re the flame that burns too bright. they want to be polarizingly interesting and feel truly alive jumping from one high to the other: they want all the spice. (e.g. changkyun, yuta, ten, lay, hyuna, jessi)

SX 2nds regularly seek to be rather energized and refreshed, but don’t overdo the heated give and take of SX craving. they’re not obsessive or self-destructive. they control and tame the game of sex appeal and attraction rather than going haywire or fearing to tap into it. they can uphold chemistry. (e.g. chanyeol, minho, bangchan)

SX blind spots are understated, avoid being overly thrilled and immersed in something. they don’t let the guard down. they don’t go at something full throttle and would rather stay too grounded and sterile/bored than getting too much of an emotional, intimate high from something. they’re overcautious. they couldn’t rub the wrong way if they tried and are more subtle in social settings. (e.g. seokjin, johnny, onew, jisoo, suho, boa)

🍓SO in the stacking

SO doms are involved to exhaustion. they know the ropes and ranks, but to a fault, paying attention to influence, connection, status, or acclaim/leadership. they have lots of communication output-input. they screen others all the time. social cues and presentation skills are everything to them. their goal is popularity, display, fitting in, being the 200% team player. (e.g. haechan, baekhyun, s.coups, cl)

SO 2nds will mingle on the occasion. they’re decently community-driven and civil, however not compulsively social nor clout chasers. they are in the loop, but don’t crave ultra-attention. they accurately size up others and curate their friendship/family circle, firm yet flexible in their social identity and position. they join the big cause for its own sake. (e.g. yeonjun, taeyong)

SO blind spots can be out of touch and fall out of social activity, being a one-person island. they don’t want to enter a social order. they omit to ‘present’ themselves and are unaware how they relate to others; don’t maintain social bonds after an initial high. they don’t communicate a ‘brand’ off their identity and character being out there in the herd all the time. (e.g. xiaojun, kyungsoo, hyunjin)

🌹 EXAMPLE. exo’s kai

widely known as passionately ardent to painful extremes with dancing, kai comes forth with intimate solo albums and sultry viral stage moments. he’s an all or nothing magnetic performer, unafraid of doing over-the-top racy concepts that drop jaws (primary SX = the overdrive).

in the meantime, he enjoys general popularity and a lively fandom connection, drawing people in wherever he goes and being the go-to ambassador. he can blend in well, he’s sweet, measured, and lovely with crowds. the will keep disruptive people who step out of line in check. (secondary SO = the adjustment).

“i’d have no regrets dying on stage” — the detriment of his fierce practice have been repetitve injuries to his spine and overwork. kai wants to go the extra mile rather than sparing and protecting himself. jongin also regularly blows up his kitchen 💀🙈 (SP last = the awkward area).

to sum things up:

dominant instinct - most untamed energy is directed and spent here. secondary instinct - stakes are lower, the least problems occur. blind spot - a disregarded area, only ever indirectly or clumsily dealt with.

we use slashes to indicate that stacking order, relinquishing the blind spot.

primary/secondary(/blind spot).

so, kai’s stacking would be called:

“SX/SO”.

meaning: the sexual instinct bleeds into the social one. an individual who will utilize their carnal, expressive display (SX) to entertain/galvanize crowds (SO). it’s a very common stacking among k-pop idols. they embody the sex symbol archetype surrounded by their people/the fandom the most believably, it holds the attention. kai has always gained traction by doing just that.

------

the two flows.

there are two ways of “sorting” instinct stackings by the person’s priorities. as in all human history: one camp goes with the flow, the other swims against the stream. you have those instinct sequences that conform or rebel. synflow as in synergy (”with”), and contraflow as in contrary (”against”).

❤️ SYN-FLOW (oriented towards people): sp → so → sx → sp. aka the dominant culture. here, instincts all follow each other logically by evolution. first, humans would secure themselves and their home (SP). then, their tribe to belong somewhere (SO), and then find then intimate attractions and a joie de vivre, a zest for life (SX), only then to settle (SP), and then again orient themselves by their community (SO). and so on, as the arrows show: it’s a cycle. synflow is very “life > decay/downfall”.

🌶 CONTRA-FLOW (compelled away from people): sp → sx → so → sp. aka the counterculture. here, instincts become utopian. individuals of this flow would first secure their own safety elusively (SP), aim for metamorphosis looking for mates (SX), and only then become social animals meeting fellow outsiders (SO), only to settle down (SP), only to break it up again causing a spark not to become complacent (SX). synflow favors revolution over harmonious stability.

[- note: SX/SP can seem contraflow since their SO is so low, and SO/SP can feel synflow because their SO is so high, e.g. like j-hope.]

TIP: you can get a feeling where someone belongs by how against the grain they go or whether they nurture what they have. example:

taeyong is synflow SP/SO. wholesome, uniting everyone. he gains the respect of all he’s surrounded by, being the reliable pillar of his sphere. synflow creates community expansion (SP -> SO): nct centering around him is just that. taeyong takes care (SP) of literally everyone (SO).

but, rather than relying on flow alone, it’s always better to type by what you think the preferred instinct is, their secondary drive, and the blind spot. the same goes for having an overview of the theory before taking frankly mediocre internet tests. look at the person’s vita, find the dominant instinct first. and then the blindspot, which is often easier to determine than the 2nd, simply by its sheer absence.

6 overall types emerge.

if you look at your friends or the people whose personality you crush on, you’ll usually either share your dominant instinct and/or come from the same flow. going by the idea that we use two instincts mostly, in a certain order, this results in 6 instinctual archetypes:

synflow: SP/SO, SO/SX, SX/SP contraflow: SP/SX, SX/SO, SO/SP

so the motivations, topics, actions, and blind spots of the 6 types will look like the following. i love the idea of stepping this up a whole notch (beginner learners bear with me) using symbolic ‘realms’ matching the types in the advanced typology of instincts.

SP/SO (realm of animals) - handling resources/the body to manage people/affiliations. one does not chase a craving for chemistry.

SO/SX (realm of humans) - being out there to act out your desire/passion. one forgets to take care of body and home.

SX/SP (realm of hungry ghosts) - exuding magnetic sexuality to establish stability. one does not consciously join a social cause.

SP/SX (realm of the underworld) - assuring resources to bond with something/somebody. one will eschew other’s social game rules.

SX/SO (realm of gods) - flaunting one’s attraction to socialize. one leaves health, safety, and material things to fate.

SO/SP (realm of titans/demons) - navigating community to acquire material benefit. one does not dive into obsessive self-immersion.

compare the tibetan buddhist wheel of life (called bhāvacakra; bhāva (भाव) = “becoming”, chakra (चक्र) = cycle). it explains our ever-revolving existence and root of striving/suffering like a giant populated rosetta stone of the instincts.

the six inner compartments are meant, this is the wheel’s labelled overview to show what goes on in each section:

the theory is not rooted in tibetan buddhism, this is just an example where instincts can be spotted in overarching concepts/archetypes worldwide. i found this analogy incredible and illustrative to remember an allegory for the stackings. since i learned it like this, it hasn’t left my mind.

example. we talked about SX/SO being a common type of kpop idols. they’re found in the realm of gods/heaven so to speak, which is about creating ecstasy, beauty — makes some major sense to me.

instinct health

why do we strive at all? the whole system depends on an imbalance. if neurosis happens, it will show up in an overly pursued primary instinct or a thoroughly discarded blind spot, which tends to coincide with one’s least implemented mbti function(s), but not always. rather, the idea of health goes like this:

the first instinct is often overused. (= ‘unhealthy’)

the second is mostly balanced, supporting the 1st. (= ‘healthy’)

the third is underused. (= ‘unhealthy’)

the term of health is used pretty loosely in this theory, all it means is: there’s either too much, just right, or not enough of an instinct at work. some people’s first instinct may be less intense than another’s, and we all have blind spots of different severity. some use the second instinct effortlessly, others still do baby steps and encounter some road blocks. no stacking is the same.

regardless, the overall tenet is: your instinct stacking is like a subconscious seesaw.

one point high up doing the most (1st instinct), the other down low pushing against (3rd instinct), and everybody forgets what is going on in the middle (2nd instinct) to keep things running 😂

HACKS:

- 🍓a primary instinct overdrive, your ‘demons’, can usually be dealt with by the mellowing secondary influence. it’s the natural consequence of the first instinct anyway. we all use our secondary to cool off the heat. we saw in the evolution history how these things move in circles. however! the dominant instinct will always be one’s #1 inevitable motivation. it is learned and ingrained. you can’t forcibly change your stacking, only focus differently with deliberation to develop yourself. the more you practice the 2nd instinct, the healthier the first will be: the weight is taken off.

- 🍓the 2nd instinct being almost always ‘healthy’ (= not extreme in either direction, too strong or too weak) can help you type someone. where in life have you or the person achieved an equilibrium? something that neither irks you all day and consumes your attention (first), or something you always forget or brush away (blind spot)? by the way: you might awkwardly clash with the stacking that has the same second instinct as you, but they are from the other flow. SX/SP and SO/SP, for instance. you will prioritize entirely different things (1st), and are excellent where the other lacks (3rd), but act the same way (2nd).

- 🍓with most people, one’s blind spot will remain the somewhat helpless enfant terrible. unless... there are other people of the same flow that take on that task for you. but! say you’re SO/SX, you meet an SP/SX who has your dormant instinct as their hyperfocus: it might solve your problems, but... they too unhealthily use self-preservation, and they’re contraflow, while you are synflow! rather, your best bet is an SO/SP. they use secondary self-pres in a balanced way to help your blindspot, and are 100% on board with your 1st instinct focus. and vice versa. hence:

instinct pairings: intertype relations!

yes, there are patterns, even if this aspect of the theory is less explored and not set in stone. as i see it, people of the same instinctual stack are usually besties by being birds of a feather, have you noticed? e.g., stray kids’ felix and chan are both SO/SX! they both bond (= secondary SX) over being aussies publically (= dominant SO).

all stacks within their own flow are rather compatible, and any pairing can work under the right circumstances. don’t discard someone if they seemingly don’t fit your instinct; they could have same ideal love language, a matching mbti type (e.g. ESFJ + INTJ), instinct isn’t everything, et cetera.

🍎 but there are still some (semi-)duals ([rather] ideal partners), activators (energizers), benefactors (helpers), supervisors (leaders), and conflictors (opposers) as type relations that have been theorized to rank like this. the dual is the most, the conflictor the least compatible.

if you want the whole shebang in one go:

- SX/SO: Sx/sp (dual) > Sx/So (activity) > So/sx (semi-dual) > So/sp (benefactor) > sp/sx (supervisor) > sp/so (conflict) - SX/SP: Sx/so(dual) > Sx/sp (activity) > Sp/sx (semi-dual) > Sp/so (benefactor) > So/sx (supervisor) > So/sp (conflict) - SO/SP: So/sz (dual) > So/Sp (activity) > Sp/so (semi-dual) > Sp/sx (benefactor) > sx/so (supervisor) > sx/sp (conflict) - SP/SO: Sp/sx (dual) > Sp/So (activity) > So/sp (semi-dual) > So/sx (benefactor) > sx/sp (supervisor) > sx/so (conflict) -SO/SX: So/sp (dual) > So/Sx (activity) > Sx/so(semi-dual) > Sx/sp (benefactor) > sp/so (supervisor) > sp/sx (conflict) - SP/SX: Sp/so (dual) > Sp/Sx (activity) > Sx/Sp (semi-dual) > Sx/so (benefactor) > so/sp (supervisor) > so/sx (conflict)

you don’t have to memorize this. it’s just some extra theorizing and playing around with types. let’s break it down with one specific intertype relation:

🍒 synflow benefactors:

SP/SO needs SO/SX

but SO/SX needs SX/SP

but SX/SP needs SP/SO (and repeat)

you can see how the supervisor’s own blind spot is the supervisee’s raging first intinct! so the story of this benefit chain goes on and on. 😅 back to the cycle! the less integrated the blind spot, the harder it is to transcend it.

ideally, you would ‘group’ humans as three in each flow: a perpetuum mobile. a family like that would be extremely functional, or a poly relationship. they all cover each other’s weak areas + balance another’s excess energy. meanwhile: love triangles can happen when a person from the opposing flow but the right secondary instinct, or the same dominant instinct enters the scene.

... but let’s talk about which pairings are the most complementary and drama-free.

the ideal dyad constellation is actually pairing instincts that are from different flows, but have the other’s blind spot as their second instinct: and the same first. 💡

shared values and concerns, they click immediately. their ‘home turf’ being the same sticks like glue. their occupied areas in life are synonymous so they will not drift apart. (primary instincts),

and their way of acting healthily in the world (2nd instincts)...

compensates for the other’s skeleton in the closet (=blind spots).

and the fact that they are from opposing flows ironically creates another balance, but enough tension to keep things fresh and dynamic. so let’s announce ‘em!

🍒 instinct duals / ideal pairings / dream teams:

SP/SO and SP/SX SO/SX and SO/SP SX/SP and SX/SO

so far so good, but as mentioned, it’s not set in stone. you find healthy friendships, parenting, work relations, and lovers of the most random stacking combos. instinct isn’t all there is, it only explains motivation and general focus in life.

and that’s it for now. hope you enjoyed a little deep dive into this theory and got a feeling for why people act the way they do based on their variant. as always: happy typing of your favorites ✍️

- related bonus article for the advanced readers: all enneagram variants described

#instinctual variants #mbti #enneagram #instinct variants #personality theory #typing #personality types #enneagram types #enneagram variants #bts #nct #skz #exo #blackpink #mx #svt #long post

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transmutationisms · 1 year

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hi! so i dont know much about 2008 finantial crisis, i think you mentioned something that succ fans should learn about it to understand economy better and all that jazz, so question;

would a good deep dive into it significantly improve the succession experience

AND

do you think the show looses its full narrative when one is watching without understanding much about anything bussiness related, or is it more of a "if you get it you get it but if you don't its whatever" kinda thing

well im biased because this is what happened to me, but i think it's impossible to study 2008 in any depth and not come away with a profoundly cynical understanding of how finance and global capital works. like the way capitalism demands the use of risky financial derivatives (because it demands increasing profits, always) means that vast swathes of the economy are several layers abstracted from any material product or process; are essentially gambling games in which owners of capital can bet either side and banks can bet both; and are consequently at constant risk of collapse and meltdown because their normal mode of operation is fuelled by bullshit and confidence. it's like when you read about anna delvey, and then you realise the way she faked having wealth was essentially donald trump's entire business strategy forever, because you don't actually need to have money to be wealthy as long as you have a name or connections and banks are willing to keep writing you lines of credit. like it makes you a little insane to think about. words are just complicated airflow.

also i think there's a degree of intertextuality between succession and the big short specifically, partly by subject matter and partly because adam mckay directed the succession pilot and is still a producer on the show. and this is not me defending mckay (bitch ass liberal) or michael lewis (rules but also sucks) but i've always thought the succession ending is going to hit a lot of the same notes as the big short ending: here is a system that is fundamentally unjust, that puts working people at risk, and that runs not on some kind of mystical business genius but on brazen greed, reputation, and wilful ignorance of economic risk; the people who are granted access into the upper echelons of this system will not face consequences for participating in it, and they will continue to make the world worse and meaner as long as they are allowed to do so, by the state of deregulation and by capital's tacit reliance on such practices for its own continued growth.

business-wise... i don't know a ton about business honestly, and i think the show does a pretty good job of conveying the plot points you absolutely need to understand. like there are maybe some nuances some viewers have a tendency to miss (the psychological ramifications of stewy being in private equity?) but i think it's possible to get a lot out of the show without necessarily understanding the intricacies of business practices. this is hard for me to answer though because i guess it really depends on what baseline level of knowledge you're coming from here. i guess i would say if something confuses you in an episode, no harm in googling?

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sonthechest · 6 months

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This post isn't full of pretty pictures or entirely made of all caps shouting about how a show sucked to bring in the engagement which means so many of those who could do with a read and reflect probably won't even see it. Never the less here goes:

Please can you stop directing your burning hatred about something you felt personally wronged by in a show at the creators, writers or even actors of that thing you love! In almost *all* cases it will be the studio/company who payed for it who are at fault for the things that are annoying you (and having worked in tv and film I can guarantee it would have annoyed the show runners, creators and writers too).

Especially in the age of streaming.

Angry that stories feel like they dont get the character development and emotional depth you remember from shows of the past? Its because the 'studios' (which are now really huge mega-companies that operate more like the economies of some kind of ultra capitalist country crossed with an unregulated hedge fund) insist on less episodes (to make it so they pay no residuals) meaning your show that should have been 10 or 12 eps is now 6 or 8 and reduced down to rocketing the plot along, briefly introducing characters and fitting in its action scenes with no time for enough of that emotional development you want (see Ahsoka).

Are you lamenting the 'terrible writing' of something? Well maybe now, thanks to the strike, the writers will be given more time to write and, as they also now have the right to second drafts and rewrites of content during filming, perhaps writing across all content will now improve. But imagine trying to get *anything* done right first draft - especially something as complicated as scripted entertainment in a high budget show with lots of effects - and being asked to churn it out in an ever shorter time frame for less and less money all the time and you could see how plot points could remain undeveloped, character relationships left out, seemingly obvious (to the viewer) connections not made. Now we know what restrictions were on the writing we as fans start to understand why with many shows they don't have their best episode until half way through or more because the writing team has by then at least had a little more time with what they are writing and understanding of the characters!

You know who's fault it is writers are given the shortest possible writing time frame (in the case of the Willow series it was just 6 weeks!) and no budget for multiple drafts and rewrites in response to shooting? Yes that's right - the studios.

You also know who likes to cancel content even if it did absolute gangbuster streaming numbers and was critically praised (like A League of Their Own) with no warning - the studios.

As fans we have every right to criticise what we love but as fans we also have power - so lets make sure we are directing that power in the right way and at the right people.

#star wars fandom #marvel #star wars #marvel fandom #dc universe #Netflix #amazon #warner bros #hbo #Ahsoka #willow the series #a league of their own #writers strike #actors strike

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conspiracyofequals · 9 months

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tagged by @kommunarde to talk about five things i like. i can definitely do that :-)

1. i like history and recently i've been focusing on the nineteenth century for some reason because it's a time period we tend to not study a lot in schools anymore. and when we do study it i start having amnesia because of unrelated factors (in quatrième i was suicidal and in première i was too busy getting brain damage from supernatural. i only started really killing it in history class in my last year of high school when we talked about economy and politics as factors all the time). it has been crazy to realize specifically the articulation between the french revolution the empire the other revolutions in france the second empire the commune the first world war and so on and so on. like to me until recently there was a huge hole between 1794 and 1914 and i knew about the events that happened in between obviously but i wasn't really connecting them well. and right now i am making the connections it's actually maddening. for example victor hugo author of les misérables french poet novelist playwright politician and overall legend lived at the same time as karl marx which somehow never occured to me. but now it has and i feel like i've unlocked a secret of the universe. & we'll be studying a time period from the late nineteenth century to the 30s next year. i fr can't wait to go back to history class in september it's going to be so awesome!!!

2. dark netflix is one of my favorite tv shows of all time it's basically about becoming your own worst enemy and how fate might or might not be inescapable. it's a circular narrative spanning multiple generations and decades and universes. it's awesome it has everything important namely philosophy failed marriages and killing people with rocks. it's a crime tv show slash horror slash mystery except then it becomes something else i can't tell you about but fleabag voice this is a love story. it's like stranger things if stranger things was better and about something else entirely. it's incredibly smart and it's the only tv show i've rewatched so far in my life because it's just so well made i don't think i'll ever see something like that again. i can't tell you about it without spoiling it and it's definitely necessary to not look at anything online before finishing the show but please watch it please please please

3. i love falling into wikipedia rabbit holes!! everyone makes fun of me for it because apparently that's not a "reliable source" (some students don't go to the source section and look up the sources listed, and instead they mindlessly copy what the page says instead of going deeper in research or at least rephrasing it a little or just. at least at the very least deleting the hyperlinks. that could not be me! wikipedia is a great tool when you know how to use it and when you use it to its full potentialities. i could never hate wikipedia my beautiful website. it's just that some people are really not smart when it comes to plagiarism). and also because reading stuff for fun and remembering all of it forever is not "something everyone does" and i need to "get diagnosed with autism". WHATEVER. i'll remain cool and knowledgeable about many fun facts and you'll do nothing about it. what i have open right now: prépa as a system, the far left in france, a bunch of pages about the weimar republic, republican calendar, pierre-sur-haute military radio station, les cloches de bâle, rené girard, lycurgus, junge welt, sdaj (i've been looking up far left looking stuff i see stickers for as a desperate attempt to understand the political landscape of this country but alas it's something that wikipedia cannot bring me i think), harmodius and aristogeiton, maquis du limousin, acéphale. also chronology of social movements in france (i am cooking something)

4. okay bear with me for this one because it's going to sound insane and parasocial but i'm aware that it is so it's basically fine. maybe. it's not that i "like" him he's just extremely entertaining and something is wrong with him in a way that is also wrong with me. so there's this guy who used to be in charge of the social media strategy for arguably the most famous french left-wing politician (jean-luc mélenchon, our bernie sanders, even though that's not an adequate comparison because france is a pays finito as i like to call it but not as finito as the united states of america. anyway) and said politician is like 70 but every once in a while during the presidential campaign he made this really funny social media post and every jeune con dépolitisé was like oh mr mélenchon you know memes you're so cool i'm going to vote for you. not me because i'm a critical thinker and i can't even vote but i do love myself a good reformist grandpa post i'm sorry. the first half of 2022 was a weird time. and we knew the guy behind that it was the guy i'm going to be talking about next. so we did not win that presidential election obviously (insert image of me crying tears of blood) (it's fine haha reformism is a dead end) and we have this second round between margaret thatcher and a fascist. but since we do not have a loser mindset and need to bounce back (this country is rotten to the core and we are never going to win electorally or otherwise unless a biblical level miracle happens. when i talk to my neighbors and my family members and my classmates i realize how fucked we are and how truly awful it could get and how easy it would be for a lot of us to look away. it makes me a little sick to think about. but there is much pain in the world but not in this room right?) they said hey! vote for us in the legislative elections! and in france we have a constituency system basically you have a local mp. so our social media guy became a candidate! and he was elected! and then inexplicably (i've followed him for several years and can confirm it came out of the blue) the man turned into a hardcore robespierrist like a month into it. i got really into the french revolution in may to cope with well everything so i was like oh okay interesting that's cool. it's cringe because he's a grown man with a job but it's also sort of funny, in an absurd way. it's a waste of taxpayer money but he's a good mp as far as mps go and i don't pay taxes so i don't care. and at first it was just like a few tweets here and there, he also invited a ya author who makes educational tiktoks about the terror to the national assembly in robespierre cosplay, but recently well uh. he quotes either robespierre or the 1793 constitution literally every intervention. he wore a wig. we're technically in the same political movement because i was peer pressured into joining and in my city the choice is between them or maoists (which way modern man). but i don't have the time to be that invested unfortunately since i have to go to my beautiful torture labyrinth (prépa) every day. during the pension reform protests (don't even talk to me about it.......) a few videos of him surfaced going to face the police in order to well i don't know intimidate them with his écharpe de député into not being violent anymore. it didn't work he got hit tear gassed multiple times but then he had proof of police violence and he could say look at this it's not normal and it didn't achieve much because this country may be beyond hope but it's very brave of him i think. or in another video he was being kettled with a colleague and said colleague was like hey antoine can you quote an article of the declaration of the rights of man and of the citizen at this policeman? and he did. like overall he's a really cool mp he's just also very dedicated to rehabilitating robespierre for some kind of reason. and the real life embodiment of this emoji combination 🤓☝️. and he has a child i think. and we're twitter mutuals

5. i like this poem i think about it so often i have bits of it memorized bouncing around in my head like a dvd screensaver. the way i want you has its own climate like how storms are magnetic. shortest war on earth. every room i enter is empty and i wake searching for you still. and so on and so on i actually want to chew on the poem a little it's like a really comfortable mattress but for my brain if that makes sense

okay this got long!! tagging @isaidilovedu2death @brutalistarchitecture2 @vassyflorence @sotiriabellou and anyone else who wants to do it really. please tell me about things you like!! i haven't written most of this tonight but tonight i am sad and there is a chance i'll be sad for a little while so tell me about you. i care. i love to hear about the things you all are passionate about. if not in public send me a dm. actually you can send me a dm about virtually anything

#yelling #tag games

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