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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months ago

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Christopher Brown’s ‘A Natural History of Empty Lots’

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Christopher Brown is an accomplished post-cyberpunk sf writer, a tech lawyer with a sideline in public interest environmental law, the proud owner of one of the most striking homes I have ever seen, and an urban pastoralist who writes about wildlife in ways I've never seen and can't get enough of:

https://fieldnotes.christopherbrown.com/

All of these facets of Brown's identity come together today with the launch of A Natural History of Empty Lots: Field Notes from Urban Edgelands, Back Alleys and other Wild Places:

https://christopherbrown.com/a-natural-history-of-empty-lots/

This is a frustratingly hard to summarize book, because it requires a lot of backstory and explanation, and one of the things that makes this book so! fucking! great! is how skillfully Brown weaves all that stuff into his telling. Which makes me feel self-conscious as I try to summarize things, because there's no way I'll do this as well as he did, but whatever, here goes.

Brown is a transplant from rural Iowa to Austin, where he set out to start a family, practice tech law during the dotcom boom, and write science fiction, as part of a circle of writers loosely associated with cyberpunk icon @brucesterling. After both the economy and his marriage collapsed, Brown started his restless perambulations around Austin's abandoned places, sacrifice zones, the bones of failed housing starts and abandoned dot-crash office parks.

When he did, something changed in him. Slowly, his eyes learned to see things that they had just skipped over. Plants, animals, and spoor and carapaces and dens of all description, all around him, a secret world. These were not pockets of "wilderness" in the city, but they were pockets of wildness. Birds' nests woven with plastic fibers scavenged from nearby industrial dumpsters; trees taking root in half-submerged tires rolled into a creekbed, foxes and rodents playing out a real-life version of the classic ecosystem simulation exercise on the edge of an elevated highway that fills the same function as the edge of a woodland where predator and prey meet.

As Brown fell in love again – with the artist and architect Agustina Rodriguez – he conceived of a genuinely weird and amazing plan to build a house. A very weird house, in a very weird place. He bought a plot of wasteland that had once housed the head-end of an oil pipeline (connected to a nearby oil-storage facility that poisoned the people who lived near it, in an act of wanton environmental racism) and had been used as a construction-waste dump for years.

After securing an extremely unlikely loan, Brown remediated the plot, excavating the oil pipeline, then building the most striking home you have ever seen in the resulting trench. Brown is a pal of mine, and this is where I stay when I'm in Austin, and I can promise you, the pictures don't do it justice:

https://www.texasmonthly.com/style/christopher-brown-edgeland-house-austin/

Formally, A Natural History of Empty Lots is a memoir that explains all of this. But not really. Like I say, this is just the back story. What Natural History really is, is a series of loosely connected essays that explains how everything fits together: colonial conquest, Brown's failed marriage, his experience as a lawyer learning property law, what he learned by mobilizing that learning to help his neighbors defend the pockets of wildness that refuse to budge.

It's an erudite book, skipping back through millennia of history, sidewise through the ecology of Texas, all while somehow serving as a kind of spotter's guide to the wild things you can see in Austin – and maybe, in your town – if you know how to look. It's a book about how people change the land, and how the land changes people. It is filled with pastoral writing that summons Kim Stanley Robinson by way of Thoreau, and it sometimes frames its philosophical points the way a cyberpunk writer would – like Neal Stephenson writing a cyberpunk trilogy that is also the story of Leibniz and Newton fighting over credit for inventing calculus:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/11/20/neal-stephensons-system-of-the-world-concludes-the-baroque-trilogy/

Brown is a stupendous post-cyberpunk writer, and also a post-cyberpunk person, which I've known for sure since I happened upon him one morning, thoughtfully mowing his roof with a scythe:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/46433979075/

You can get a sense of what that means in this lockdown-era joint presentation that Chris, Bruce Sterling and I did on "cyberpunk and post-cyberpunk":

https://archive.org/details/asl-cyberpunk

Brown is a spectacular novelist. His ecofascist civil war trilogy that opens with Tropic of Kansas got so much right about the politics of American demagoguery and was perfectly timed with the Trump presidency:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/07/11/tropic-of-kansas-making-america-great-again-considered-harmful/

The sequel, Rule of Capture, uses the device of courtroom drama in a way that comes uncomfortably close to the Orwell/Kafka mashup that the authorities have created to deal with environmental protesters:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/08/12/rule-of-capture-inside-the-martial-law-tribunals-that-will-come-when-climate-deniers-become-climate-looters-and-start-rendering-environmentalists-for-offshore-torture/

And the final volume, Failed State, is one of the most complicated complicated utopias you could ask for. This is what people mean by "thrilling conclusion":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/12/failed-state/#chris-brown

As brilliant as Brown is in fiction mode, his nonfiction is unclassifiably, unforgettably brilliant. A Natural History of Empty Lots is the kind of book that challenges how you feel about the crossroads we're at, the place you live, and the place you want to be.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/17/cyberpunk-pastoralism/#time-to-mow-the-roof

#pluralistic #books #reviews #gift guide #pastoralism #environmentalism #ecology #cyberpunk #austin #texas #climate #christopher brown #conservation #urbanism #ecosocialism #architecture #environmental racism #writing

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

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Adult Education Part 22 | Hangman x OC

Summary: After visiting Jessica's family in Massachusetts and his family in Texas, it's time to officially finish moving in together. It's also time for Jake to take his girlfriend on a little adventure she has always dreamed about.

Warnings: Fluff, sex in public, language, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Epilogue Part One

Three months later...

The airport in San Diego was absolutely overrun with business travelers and families on summer vacation. It seemed like there were people rushing in every direction, trying to catch connecting flights or grab their luggage and go. But Jake was in no hurry at all. He'd just left the laidback state of Texas. Tomorrow was Saturday. His girlfriend was on term break.

In fact, he missed his luggage going around the baggage carousel twice because Jessica had her lips pressed to his. "You know," he murmured after the second time, "we would already be home by now if you weren't so damn distracting."

She shook her head. "We have to stop by my apartment on the way and pick up the last few boxes."

Jake smiled. "I know. Then it's official, Baby." Her lease was ending on Monday, and they left those boxes of old textbooks and scientific journals so they could still claim she was going to be moving in, not that she essentially already had. Jake didn't want to make a poor impression on her family, but it turned out he didn't have anything to worry about. And neither did she.

"So Thanksgiving back in Massachusetts and Christmas in Texas," she murmured against his neck as she let her head rest on his shoulder. "We're going to be very busy this year."

"There's no escaping my mom now," he told her. "She's probably already crocheting a Christmas stocking with your name on it. I think she almost evaporated into thin air when she hugged you. Physical proof that her son is dating someone with a PhD who looks like a supermodel nearly took her out."

"Jake," she whined with a laugh. "Supermodels don't wear glasses or read the science joke of the day emails."

"Mine does," he insisted. "There's my bag again. Now can we please go home?"

"Absolutely," she replied as he grabbed his luggage before it could sneak by a third time. "I'm determined to cook an edible dinner one night while I'm off. Plus, I really wanted to spend this week while you're at work organizing all of my stuff at the condo."

He grinned as they exited the airport holding hands. "Actually, you're coming to work with me on Monday."

"I am? For what?"

"Well... that's a bit of a surprise."

---------------------------

Jessica watched Jake stack the three remaining boxes of her things in his arms and carry them out to his truck. She could have only managed to take them one at a time, but he even humored her barrage of questions while he went.

"When are you going to tell me what the surprise is? Will you tell me now? How will I know what to wear to base with you on Monday if you don't tell me what it's for?"

He was silent for the first part of the ride from her old neighborhood as they made their way toward the pacific coast and his condo, and she looked out the window while she tapped her foot anxiously. When he took an unexpected right turn instead of a left, she turned to look at him.

"You really want to know?" he asked, his face just gorgeous in the orange and purple light as the sun finished setting.

"Yes!"

He chuckled. "Well, I thought this would be a fun little celebration of sorts since you found out Brian isn't coming back in the fall. And I think it's something you've been wanting to experience."

Jessica tipped her head back against the headrest and smiled. Advanced Calculus had texted her when they were at the airport in Boston about to fly to Texas, letting her know Brian took a position at the local community college. She wouldn't even have to look at him when her classes started up again next month. She had been so excited, she and Jake had very awkward but enthusiastic sex in the airplane lavatory as they flew over Pennsylvania.

When he pulled his truck off the main road and along the bay, Jessica had to hang on as he drove down an unpaved street as the sky darkened. "Where are we going?" she asked, as they bumped along, driving parallel to a tall fence with barbed wire across the top of it.

"I want to show you something," he muttered, coming to a stop between the rocky bay beach and the fence. "There's the hangar, and there's my jet."

Jessica looked to where he was pointing, and she could barely make out HANGMAN printed across the side of one of the aircrafts. "Oh!" she gasped, realizing she'd never even visited him on base before.

"Come here, and I'll tell you the surprise," he crooned, killing the engine and unbuckling her seatbelt. He coaxed her to his lap and said, "If you want to fly with me on Monday, I got special permission to take you up since you're a physics professor."

"What?!" Jessica's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

His smile was soft and genuine as he nodded. "Does that mean you still want to do it?"

"Jake!" She pushed his shoulders back against the seat and shook him slightly as he laughed. "I wrote my PhD thesis on jet propulsion in military aircrafts! Of course I want to fly with you!"

"I know," he drawled as he smirked. "I read your thesis, remember? Barely understood a word, but I did read it."

"Smart Boy," she moaned as she kissed him. "I can't wait for Monday." As she raked her fingers back through his hair, his hands came to rest on her hips. She kissed and nipped at him, pausing to say, "I'm so excited."

When Jessica's tongue slipped between his lips, she rolled her hips against him. He groaned and cupped her butt, guiding her to do it again. He was so obviously hard in his jeans now, and she didn't want to wait until they got home. "Feels like you're excited, too," she said with a grin before she licked his lip.

"Fuck, Jessica. If you're like this today, you'll be a mess on Monday after we actually fly together."

She gasped and nodded. "Oh my god. You're right."

"I know I am, Baby. You'll be dripping wet for me by then."

When she clenched around nothing as his hand snaked up the front of her shirt, she admitted, "I already am." She ground down against his cock and whispered, "You know how we had that quickie the other day way out on your parents property?"

Jake moaned and said, "I'll remember that for the rest of my life. Bending you over the tailgate of my dad's old truck."

"Well," she murmured, licking a stripe from his chin slowly back to his ear. "It's pretty dark now. You could bend me over your own tailgate."

Jake's hand was opening his door before she finished her sentence, and he hauled her back behind his truck. He was a little rough, pulling her against him and making her stumble as he dropped the tailgate down. He kissed her lips and rubbed the front of his jeans against hers before he said, "It'll have to be quick again. Before any of the guards drive by."

"Okay," she agreed, and then Jake had her pinned down from behind as she made a surprised noise. She let her head rest on her folded arms as she turned toward the fence. It was now too dark to see the hangar or any of the jets as Jake reached around and undid the front of her jeans. He yanked them down along with her sage green thong before unzipping his own pants and letting his cock rest against her butt.

"You weren't kidding, Smart Girl," he whispered, teasing her clit and running his finger through her slit. "You're soaked."

The evening air was cool on her bare skin, and when he separated her with his long fingers, she shivered for so many reasons. Then he connected them together, plunging inside her as she cried out.

"Shhh," he warned, and she bit her lip. "Be a good girl. I'll make it fast."

"Oh god," she groaned softly, her whole body bouncing against the tailgate with each of his rapid thrusts. She couldn't stop the little grunts and needy sounds she made for him every time his hips slammed into her butt, but he was moaning her name softly too as he fucked her.

He just went harder and harder, and Jessica had to hold onto the tailgate with quivering fingers as he hit the spot that made her shake for him. "Jake," she whispered as he leaned down over her back as she came. But he wasn't done yet.

His voice was rough like the gravel beneath her feet. "I love you. I love fucking you. I can't wait to take you home. I can't wait to fly with you." He grabbed her hips and drove himself deep as she continued to clench softly around him, and then he came too. And this time she had to remind him to be quiet.

"Jake, you're so loud," she warned as his thrusting grew shallow. "And I see headlights," she hissed.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling out of her and sending his cum dribbling down the insides of her thighs as she yanked up her underwear and jeans. There was definitely a security vehicle headed past the hangar on some sort of patrol route. "Let's get out of here," he said, pulling her toward the driver's side door.

Jessica scampered inside, barely making it to the passenger seat before Jake had the engine roaring to life and the truck shifted into reverse. Deftly and with a smile on his face, he reversed back down the bumpy road like it was nothing. "That was a little close," he said as he slowed down before making it back to the pavement.

She bit her lip and said, "What if I said I kind of love tailgate quickies?"

He glanced at her as he slowed at a stop sign. "Well then I would say I'll come up with a list of places we can sneak off to."

Her hand stroked his thigh as she said, "Get to work on that."

-------------------------

The fact that Jake managed to pull this off after weeks and weeks of planning left a smile on his face. On Monday, he watched as Phoenix helped Jessica into a flight suit in the hangar, and then he handed her a helmet. She was grinning at him as she slipped it onto her head. "You look like you're ready to go, Dr. Reed," he said as he fastened it into place for her.

"I'm so ready, Lieutenant Seresin," she replied, bouncing slightly on her booted feet as she ran her fingers along the HANGMAN patch on his own flight suit. "How many Gs do you think we'll hit? Can we roll upside down?"

"Jesus," he laughed. "Next thing you'll be leaving me in the fall to go to flight school."

She pouted and said, "My eyesight is too poor."

He kissed the tip of her nose before picking up his own helmet. "Not to be a WSO."

"Oh my god, Jake! You're right!"

She asked him a million questions in a row as she followed him across the tarmac, and he could only answer about half of them for her. "Why don't you tell me, Reedy," he finally said as she climbed the first rung of the ladder. "You're way smarter than me."

She turned back and looked at him. "Maybe just a little bit. But you know how to do the one thing I'll never get to do. Actually fly this thing!"

He placed a hand on her waist, giving her a squeeze through the rough fabric. "I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. I'll try to answer any questions you have when we're in bed later. How does that sound?"

She nodded at him as her eyes went wide. "That actually sounds great. Let's go." She then climbed the ladder in record time, leaving Jake laughing on the tarmac before he followed after her.

He would be happy to follow her as long as she would let him.

--------------------------

Jessica Reed is just winning so hard now. Fuck off, Brian. One more filthy part of this story to come. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

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vimbry · 7 months ago

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*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

#I know this minor detail might make one obvious but I can't let it slide!#sorry everyone. would you kindly delete any old versions and pass it around again. <3 #tmbg

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mortimermcmirestinks · 8 months ago

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a complete list

so we got the following already:

AFAB = assigned female at birth

AMAB = samesies but for the bros

ACAB = fuck them pigs

AHAB = guy who wants to fuck and/or kill a sperm whale

so I'm gonna give you the other 22. ready? let's go

AAAB: the muuuscle in your miiidseeection

ABAB: 🔥🔥swedish band typo🔥🔥

ACAB: fuck them pigs

ADAB: world's most rad dance move

AEAB: assigned evil at birth

AFAB: doctor said you were a dame right when you slunk out the pusspuss

AGAB: what the doctor said you was when you slopped on outta the verjubit

AHAB: from hell's heart I tap that cetacean or whatever I never read it

AIAB: all investigators are bisexual

AJAB: a friendly poke

AKAB: all kops are bastardz

ALAB: like asexual but for science experiments instead of sexual attraction. short for "alaboratory"

AMAB: doctor said you were a bloke the second you shot out of the ol' utero cannon

ANAB: someone very sneakily trying to name their D&D character after a banana. don't let them get away with it

AOAB: desperately trying to remember the official Maori name for New Zealand but I'm so so bad at spelling

APAB: assigned pussy magnet at birth

AQAB: the guy from the new GAY version of Moby Dick. this version's called Moby Pronouns. the woke agenda has gone too far!!!!!

ARAB: an ethnic group mainly inhabiting the ARAB world in West Asia and North Africa. A significant ARAB diaspora is present in various parts of the world. Arabs have been in the Fertile Crescent for thousands of years. In the 9th century BCE, the As

ASAB: ahh!! stinkyyy!!! aww, baby

ATAB: the thing you start at a bar when you don't want to pay up right away. ALTERNATE JOKE: the thing you hit to go to the next cell in Excel

AUAB: sound a turtle makes when it's ramming ham

AVAB: only known word to be a perfect anagram of both "balaclava" AND "baklava"

AWAB: assigned weeb at boston

AXAB: amnestic XK-class anomalous being

AYAB: alla youse are bullshit

AZAB: mystery option. nobody knows what this one is. if you know what this one is, send your knowledge to the Pentagon and they will send you a shiny American penny.

glad to help out!! just playing my small role in the queer community. fuck cops also

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peachhcs · 11 months ago

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hughes!sister x will smith au ✰

→ samy hughes x will smith

or childhood best friends to lovers

→ mood board & masterlist

★ ☆ au background + timeline ★ ☆

they're family friends + have known each other since they were babies

they were always close, but they didn't start getting closer until will moved to michigan for his development program in summer of 2021 (also when samy met gabe, ryan, drew, etc.)

the guys don't believe will at first when he tells them he knows samy hughes & beg him to meet her (i assume she's fairly known because of her brothers)

samy and will grow a lot closer during those two years and by her senior year of high school and will's last year of ntdp they realize they may have feelings for one another after playing it off as a brother and sister relationship

will realizes his feelings in october when him and some of the guys see samy off for her senior homecoming

samy realizes her feelings a few months later in april when her and her friends decide to bring the guys to their prom since they don't get that experience

after prom, the two don't see one another for months because will is constantly traveling for hockey that whole summer, but they're still constantly texting and calling

they reunite at the draft in nashville! the entire hughes family is there supporting will

at the draft, samy and will realize that their relationship is changing

the confession doesn't come out until will's draft party that night

they're both nervous and afraid to ruin their friendship, so they deicide to give themselves a grace period where they can go on a few dates and see how it goes and if it goes horrible, nothing is ruined between them

obviously it goes well and they decide to start dating!

→ samy hughes:

samy (samantha) poppy hughes

younger sister to luke, jack, and quinn

she's very close with her brothers and they all have a two year age gap

birthday is january 17th, 2005!

she's 16 when will moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college about to be 19!

she played hockey growing up wanting to be like her brothers and was very good on the ice (still is)

switched to soccer full time sophomore year (10th grade) and now plays at the university of michigan

is roommates with dylan's (fake) younger sister, hannah which is a bit of full circle since luke was roommates with dylan at umich

luke's michigan friends love her and take her under their wing as their own little sister — especially ethan and mark

samy loves going to the yost for every home game as well as watching will's games on her computer whenever bc plays

even though she doesn't play hockey regularly anymore, she still loves the sport and will always have a special place in her heart for it

she becomes one of the best freshman on the soccer team her first year and helps lead the team to the ncaa finals for the first time in awhile. she wins her first national title her 2nd year!

our girl is ridiculously smart with a near 4.0 majoring in political science! will admires her so much how she can balance everything

she's about half a foot shorter than will and she always teased him when they were younger how taller she was before he had his growth spurt

she goes for earthy tones

she's very outgoing + extroverted + loves talking. she can and will talk will's ear off at any given time

will calls her "pretty girl" the most

→ will smith

younger brother to grace

they have a close relationship and will goes to her when he needs relationship advice (he did this a lot when he first realized he liked samy)

birthday is march 17th, 2005!

he's 16 when he moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college

he's been playing hockey since he could walk and would always play with quinn, jack, and luke when they were younger

he's now a forward at boston college and was drafted 4th overall for the san jose sharks

he's roommates with his best friend, gabe perreault

he loved going to samy's soccer games in high school and would always drag the guys with him and now he still loves watching her games online

he fell first and harder (gabe and ryan knew will liked her before will knew himself)

very much golden retriever energy

he's constantly calling and texting samy throughout the day to update her about his life at bc

will's a bit more introverted when it comes to new people he doesn't really know, so samy always does all the talking when they're together and he just enjoys sitting or standing beside her while smiling and nodding along

his clothes are her clothes whenever they're together, especially over the summers when they spend time together with their families

he likes neutral colors and doesn't wear bright ones unless samy picks out clothes for him or she suggests it (literally does whatever she says and the guys always tease him for it)

samy likes calling him "pretty boy" or "willie"

→ quick authors note:

hi! i'm joining the hockey bandwagon and writing my own au :) i know i sort of wrote a lot here, but i've got a lot of lore for these two and a lot of short blurbs written already to start publishing soon. i'm also open to requests for them and any of your own ideas too!! send things in & i hope you guys like this new au. p.s. i'm not an expert in hockey, but i'll try not to get anything wrong when writing, but bare with me :))

#will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #uofmichigan #hughes!sister x will smith au #ice hockey #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #samy hughes #will smith x oc #umich hockey #will smith imagine #bc hockey #boston college hockey

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whencyclopedia · 1 month ago

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Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) was an American author and poet, often credited as the father of the short story, a pioneer of science fiction, the inventor of the detective story, and the master of the horror genre. He is best known for his poems The Raven, Annabel Lee, and Helen, the short stories The Fall of the House of Usher, The Cask of Amontillado, and The Masque of Red Death; and the detective story The Purloined Letter.

Poe was one of the most influential writers in his own time as well as generations later. Robert Mead in his Literature of the American Nation wrote that Poe's stories, poems and essays, "convey the conviction of intensity felt experience, the authority of extraordinary intelligence. That was Poe's genius" (71). One of his best themes is the difficulty of establishing a discrete limit between the living and the dead, the exploration of the border between things that one may wish to remain separate: life from death, the human from the animal, and the real from the imaginary.

Although Poe was a brilliant writer, his life was one of poverty and misery, and his short stories and poems reflect the deep sense of loss Poe experienced throughout his life. Charlotte Montagne in her book on Poe called him a giant of American literature "but his life was a disaster, a tale of unremitting misery, constant poverty and repented frustration and disappointment" (Intro). He was the first American writer to try to support his family through his writing. Unfortunately, he failed. While he may have lived in poverty, he changed American literature forever. Despite his tragic death at the age of 40, he left behind over 70 macabre stories, poems, and one novel "filled with suspense and brilliantly twisted plots." (Montagne, Intro)

Early Life

Edgar Allan Poe was born on 19 January 1809 in a boarding house near the Boston Commons in Boston, Massachusetts. Mead wrote that, from the beginning, his life seemed destined for destruction. Both of his parents were actors, not a respectable occupation at the time. His father, David Poe, Jr. (1784-1811) was a member of the Boston Thespian Group. He proved to be a major disappointment to his parents, who wanted him to become a lawyer. He and Elizabeth (Eliza) Arnold Hopkins, an expatriate English actress, met in Norfolk, Virginia, and were soon married. She was a widow. Her husband Charles Hopkins had died six months earlier. Poe's brother William Henry was born nine months later in 1807; he would die in 1831 of tuberculosis.

David and Eliza traveled the theater circuit up and down the East Coast leaving young Poe and his sister Rosalie (1810-1874) with David's parents David Sr. and Elizabeth in Baltimore. By 1811, David had abandoned his family. Never getting any respect for his acting ability, his stage career had stalled owing to his heavy drinking. He died in December of 1811 in Norfolk. Considered a talented actress by most reviewers, Eliza became ill with tuberculosis and died at the age of 24 on 8 December 1811. The young couple died within three days of each other.

Although he was only two years old, with little memory of his father, many believe Poe inherited his father's character and bad habits. Since his grandparents were financially unable to care for Poe and his little sister, Rosalie was adopted by the Richmond merchant William Mackenzie. Although never formally adopted, Poe was taken in by John Allan, a tobacco merchant and his wife Frances. Poe was given Allan as his middle name. John was said to be impulsive and quick-tempered, but Poe wanted for nothing. He was encouraged and given opportunities to indulge in his literary pursuits. He had the unique ability at a young age to memorize and recite long passages of poetry.

#History #Literature #EdgarAllanPoe

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burntheedges-updates · 1 year ago

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over again, chapter 5: staying over

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, implied heavy angst (sorry), kissing, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (no condom this time, he’s 56 and she’s 49, but use a condom, y’all), creampie, masturbation, praise kink, light anal play, face sitting, if I missed anything please let me know! a/n: Well, this is part 5 of the 5+1. I can’t believe it. Next week we have the +1, which is the epilogue. I’m sorry in advance for the first part. Check ao3 for notes to skip the smut. word count: 5.5k | series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4

Chapter 5: Staying Over

Boston, September 26, 2003

Your phone rang at 6:30 AM, rudely interrupting a dream that involved Joel, no pants, and a very sturdy table.

“...h’llo?” you mumbled into the receiver.

“Morning, darlin’.”

“Joel?” You yawned. “Baby, it’s 5:30 in the morning in Austin. Why are you calling me?”

“Well, baby, you see, it’s my birthday, but my fiance is all the way across the country in Boston at some fancy conference. I thought maybe she might like to help me start my day right, put me in a good mood before our daughter wakes up and makes me eat one of her culinary science experiments.” You heard what sounded like sheets rustling on his end of the phone and you started to smile.

“Joel, she cooks the eggs that way because it’s how you taught her.”

He hummed and murmured your name. “Come on, baby.”

“You looking for a little phone sex, Miller? What are you wearing?”

He laughed, but he answered, “Nothing, pretty girl. What are you wearing?”

As he asked, you were already kicking off your pajamas. “What a coincidence! Nothing here, either.”

“Mmm wish I could see it.”

“Just one more day, baby, and then I’ll be home and you can keep me naked in your bed all night.”

“That’s our bed, darlin’. For the rest of our lives.”

You smiled, just like you did every time Joel reminded you that you’d be waking up next to each other every day from now on. He’d done this a lot since you’d moved in at the start of the summer, taking advantage of your free time after the school year ended. Though really you’d spent almost every night together since he proposed in December.

“Well, tell me what you’re doing, baby. Or what you want me to do. What do you want, birthday boy?”

“I want you to touch yourself. Tell me everything you’re doing and how it feels. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” You hummed, and slipped your hand between your legs. “Of course you can. That’s my good girl.”

...

Jackson, Spring 2024

(the same night you went to the bar)

You feel like you’ve lived a thousand lives since you met Tommy and Joel outside your house earlier. First the dance, then the panic attack, then the kiss. The almost-more-than-a kiss. Outside. Where people could see you. Your face gets hot again at the thought of it.

Slumped by your door, you tell yourself to breathe and calm down. You put your palms over your eyes and tilt your head back against the door, taking some time to breathe deeply and slow your racing heart.

You’re afraid to let yourself think about it — you can feel the tears behind your eyes, ready to fall. You focus on your breath.

It sort of works, enough for you to get yourself together and stand, starting to move away from the door.

You’ve only made it a few steps away when there’s a knock, and your heart starts to race again. Your hands are shaking.

Before you even open it, you know who’s standing on the other side. You barely pull it open a few inches before you see his hand appear as he grabs the side of the door, and then his arm as he pushes it open, and then Joel himself is in front of you again, moving straight towards you. He doesn’t even step inside all the way before he’s kissing you, the hand on the door pushing it shut and the other grabbing you by the neck. You wrap your arms around him, opening for him and deepening the kiss immediately. He turns and pushes you against the door, from the inside this time, palm flat against your collar bone.

You gasp, chest heaving. Joel rests his forehead against yours. “I was standing in my empty house, frozen, and realized I had no idea what I was doing there, away from you.” He brushes his hands down your arms and around your waist, pulling you closer. “What the hell was I thinking? Can’t believe I kissed you like that ‘n walked away.”

You laugh, so, so relieved, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Me neither, baby.”

He turns his head, nosing along your ear and then down your neck, skimming his lips lightly across your shoulder. You shiver.

“You got plans tonight, pretty girl?” He says it playfully, knowing you’ll pick up on it, that you’ll remember it too. It makes you laugh again and tear up at the same time.

“Just s- some cowboy who wants t- to get in my pants.” You know your lines, but you can barely get them out past the emotions bubbling up inside of you. You can feel him smirk against your neck.

“Oh?” His left hand moves from your waist around to the front of your jeans, deftly undoing the button and starting to lower the zipper slowly. “And are you going to let him?”

“I dunno. You think he’s any good?” You’re smiling so wide it hurts.

At that, Joel moves his hand inside your open pants to cup your pussy firmly, holding you tight over your underwear. You’re on fire, blood rushing in your ears. “You know he is, baby.”

You have to ask, even when all you want is to let him fuck you right there, against the door. You push your hands through his hair. “Not taking it slow after all?”

He softens his grip on you and brings his lips to your ear, resting his forehead against the side of your head. Your eyes slip shut. “We’ve got a lot to work out, sure, but I was standing there alone and I just realized I don’t want to spend any more of my life away from you, not if I don’t have to. Not when you’re right here barely 50 feet away from me.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find you twice in this fucked up life, but I ain’t turning it down.” He brings his right palm up to cup your face. “We’ve never let fear take over before and I don’t want to now. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to do this together. I want you.”

You inhale sharply and feel a tear run down your cheek. He sees it and thumbs it away. “What about you, baby? What do you want?”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze in the dim light of your hallway. Your hands are in his hair and his hand is still cupping your pussy, holding you gently. You know he can feel how wet you are, just from this. You curve your hips forwards and watch his eyes darken.

“Fuck slow. I never stopped wanting you, Joel. I want you to take me to my bed and make me forget the 20 years I spent without you in it. And I want you to do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and to keep doing it every night for the rest of our lives.”

His grip tightens on your pussy as he smiles at you, slow. You see a glimpse of that cocky cowboy who swept you off your feet in 2001 in the corners of his mouth and the tilt of his brow.

So fast it makes your head spin, he pulls his hand from your pants and goes to whisk you away towards the stairs with his arms around your waist. He pulls you close to lean on him, taking some of your weight. “Let’s get to it, then.”

“Joel Miller! Let me walk. We’re going to need those ancient back muscles, in a minute.” He laughs.

“Alright, alright.” He slides his hands to rest on your hips. “I know we’re old now, baby, but I bet I can still make you come at least three times tonight.” You laugh, even as you feel his effect on you running through your veins and pooling in your underwear.

“Big talk, cowboy. Don’t count on that everytime, not these days.”

He hums in your ear. “You know I’m good for it.”

You grab his hand and pull him up the stairs behind you and into your bedroom, turning and sitting on the bed. He’s on you before you can move, pulling your shoes off and your pants down your legs and tossing them somewhere across the room. You take the opportunity to strip off your shirt, moving your hands to his belt once you’re done.

He takes off his shirt and it makes you stop and stare, eyes roving over his strong chest and arms, somehow stronger than when you last saw him like this. You look up at him and realize you’re sitting frozen on the bed with your hands on his belt, and you smirk as you loosen it and then undo his jeans.

He inhales slowly and reaches forward to brush his thumb across your lips as you pull him from his underwear, shifting your gaze from his face to his hard cock.

You begin to lean forward, mouth opening, tongue darting out for a taste, when he catches you by the throat and your eyes dart back up to meet his gaze. He’s looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk on his face.

“Now, pretty girl, did I say you could do that?”

You squirm, so aroused you can feel the mess you’re making. “Please, baby?” You meet his eyes and run your tongue across your bottom lip. “It’s been so long.”

“You know I love that pretty mouth. But I think we should make sure of something right quick.”

You tilt your head, questioning. Not sure what he means. He shoves your shoulder, pushing you to back up and lie on the bed before kicking off his jeans and underwear and crawling over you. He lowers himself so that his cock is brushing your stomach and whispers in your left ear, “Only good girls get to suck this cock, baby, you know that. Are you still my good girl?”

You breathe in so sharply it’s almost a sob, and clutch at him. “Yes, Joel,” you breathe. “Always.”

He sits up a bit and smiles at you, and you can see it all there in his expression. This man is the love of your life, and it’s still mutual. You still fit together like this perfectly. You close your eyes against the swell of emotion you feel at realizing how well you go together, even after all this time.

“I thought so. Why don’t you show me how good you can be, pretty girl, and touch yourself.” You immediately move to do as he says, and he leans to the side to watch. “Let me see you get wet for me, baby.”

“I’m already wet, Joel.” You feel him settle in next to you as he watches your hand move between your legs. He pushes your left leg up and to the side, opening you up for his view.

“I want you so wet you soak the bed, baby. I want you so wet it feels like silk when my cock slips inside that pussy.” You moan at his words, watching him watch your hand. He sits up to get a better look.

You open your legs wider and use your fingers to spread your folds with one hand while you start to tease yourself with the other. You move your fingers lightly from your hole to your clit, dancing around it as you watch his reaction. You know your body looks different now, but under his gaze you feel the same as you did every time he looked at you back then – beautiful, desirable. Loved. Like he looks at you and sees you.

You circle your clit, letting the feeling build just a bit before moving your fingers down to your entrance. You push your hips forward slightly, watching as he leans forward. You slip one finger inside and he licks his bottom lip, gaze intent.

“So pretty, baby. Such a pretty pussy, always so pretty for me.” He doesn’t look away from your fingers as he says it.

You slip a second finger inside you, starting to pump them in and out, but it’s not enough. Your fingers aren’t big enough, never have been, not after having his. You squirm a little, trying to go deeper. He sees your struggle and smirks. “You need help, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, nodding. “Please, Joel. I need your fingers, baby, I missed them so much.”

“Yeah?” He smooths his hand up your leg, closer and closer to where you want him. “You need it that bad?”

“Yes!” You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shhh, let me help you. I’ll give you everything you want, baby.” He pulls your hands from your pussy and pins them to the bed by your hips. He holds them here as he leans down, inches away from your open pussy, taking a good, long look. You squirm. “Joel–”

“Patience.” He nips at your thigh. “Let me look at you.” He does, and you watch him do it, helpless. “I missed this, so much. This right here.”

He leans down and slowly licks you, tongue flat and mouth wide open, lingering over your clit and meeting your eyes. “You taste so damn good, baby, thought I’d never get to taste this again.” You revel in the feeling of his beard scratching against your pussy as he licks you again, slow. You feel yourself getting wetter as you clutch the sheets in your fists.

He lifts one hand but eyes you, so you know he wants you to keep your hand where it is. He uses his fingers to spread open your folds, and looks down again, licking his lips. He looks up to meet your eyes again – you can feel yourself staring, mouth open, breathing hard but silent – and he smirks. “I don’t think you’re wet enough yet, baby.”

You know what’s coming before he does it, but the anticipation makes you squirm. He opens his mouth and lets you see him gather the spit on his tongue before he lets it slip off the tip, right onto your clit, exposed by his fingers holding you open. You throw your head back and moan. “That’s my girl.” With that, he leans back down, and puts his mouth to work right where you both want it. You buck your hips up and he pushes them back down with his right hand. “Easy, pretty girl. Let me get my taste of this perfect pussy.”

He takes both hands and throws your legs over his shoulders, returning his mouth to your clit and sucking lightly. You whine, and it spurs him on. “Fuck, Joel.” He reaches down with one hand to tease you at your entrance while the other reaches up around your leg to pinch your nipple as he takes your clit in your teeth. He looks up and catches your eye, keeping eye contact as his touch sets you aflame – twisting your nipple gently, sucking and tonguing your clit, and slowly sinking his finger inside you, all at once. You stop breathing for a moment, overwhelmed at the competing sensations.

Joel winks at you and then returns to his work. He thrusts one finger inside of you, curling it upwards at the end of every thrust. You’re astonished to feel your orgasm building, right then and there, so quick and so strong. You know he can tell – your breath speeds up and you clench your fists tight. Your legs start to shake and you clench down on his fingers, a second joining the first, fucking you perfectly.

Joel plays your entire body perfectly, even though he hasn’t touched it in 20 years. It’s masterful, like he never forgot a single detail, and it brings tears to your eyes. Fuck.

You’re so close, but you’re teetering right on the edge. He smooths his left hand down your torso, pressing down gently on your pelvis. He lifts his head up, fingers twisting inside of you, and says, “show me how good you are, pretty girl. Come on my face.”

And you do. He immediately returns his mouth to your clit, sucking on it, and it tips you over the edge. You haven’t had an orgasm like this in 20 years and it launches through your body like a rocket. It overwhelms every bit of you, body and mind, setting you on fire in its wake. You cry out and lose yourself in it.

You’re slow to come down but as you do you realize you’ve locked your thighs around Joel’s head.

He seems happy with his plight, though, as he continues licking at your hole, teasing his tongue up inside of you as he removes his fingers. Like a man dying of thirst, finally given water.

You open your legs and tug him away by the hair, overstimulated. “I missed the way you taste, baby. Even better than I remembered.” His face is glistening and his eyelids are heavy, dark eyes watching you. He clears his throat. “That was one. You ready for another?” He grins. You shake your head at him, and laugh, incredulous.

“Show me what you can do, cowboy.” You’re breathless, boneless.

He turns his head and kisses your thigh, leaving a trail of moisture from his face as he moves slowly up to your knee. Then he licks, tongue flat, all the way from your knee back to your hip, where he digs in a little with his tongue at the crease of your thigh. You let your legs fall apart at the sensation. “I want you to give me another one, baby. Turn over.” You think you know what he wants, and your heart starts to race even faster.

You sit up, a little unsteady, arms shaking, and turn over so you’re on all fours. He nips at your ass and you know it’s because he approves. You feel him shifting around as you hang your head between your shoulders. Then you feel his hands smooth up the back of your thighs and you realize he’s on his back, face right under your pussy.

“Sit down, baby. Put that pretty pussy right on my face.” You shiver. You know he means it. He taps your ass when you don’t move right away.

You lower your hips, sliding your knees apart on the bed and feeling them ache a little, sitting up at the same time. You look down and you can see him waiting for you, a wicked grin on his face. “That’s it, be a good girl and sit down right here for me.”

He reaches up and pulls your hips down and you do. Back Before, you used to worry you’d smother him like this, until one night he made you sit down, weight dropped fully onto him, and he moaned louder than you’d ever heard him. He wanted you like that, all over him, smothering him, taking over all of his senses. You were happy to oblige.

You sink onto his face and you feel his mouth open to meet you. His tongue licks at you and then sinks right inside, smooth and soft. “Yes, baby,” you sigh. He twists his tongue inside and then closes his lips around your hole, kissing you there like he would kiss your mouth. And then he sucks, lightly, making your entire body shiver in response.

As you start to rock your hips he encourages it, squeezing your hips and pulling you up and down on his face, thrusting his tongue in time with your hips. His nose starts to catch on your clit and your breath hitches at every thrust. You moan, loudly. You start to lose yourself in it, head flung back, thrusting harder than you’d let yourself if you could think straight, but he moans in response and scrapes his teeth lightly around your hole.

The noises he’s making are obscene.

Joel’s hands leave your hips and sneak around to your ass, grabbing both cheeks and squeezing. On the next rock of your hips he lets go with his left hand and lightly trails his fingers between your cheeks, touching the pad of one finger to your asshole. You whine and push your hips back to meet it. You can feel his grin at your response.

He uses his right hand to pull you towards his face while his left toys with your ass and his tongue continues to stoke the fire inside of you. You grab his right wrist with one hand and his hair with the other as you grind down on his face. He sucks at your hole and pulls down with his hands to hold you down.

You throw your head back again, lost in the moment. Your orgasm is close, creeping over you, sending tingles down your spine. You clench around his tongue. “Fuck, Joel, your mouth. I’m gonna come, baby,” you whisper, overcome.

You don’t know if he can hear you, but you know he can tell. He always could, and he always knew just how to push you over the edge. He pushes you back a little with his right hand, and then tugs you back down, thrusting his tongue inside of you and curling it upwards.

His mouth is open wide, so wide you feel it everywhere as he sucks at your hole and grinds his nose into your clit.The tip of middle finger just breaches your asshole.

Your orgasm slams into you and you cry out, tensing all over and closing his head between your thighs. You clench on his tongue and his finger, holding him inside you in both places as the fire rushes over you again. This one is stronger but it passes more quickly and you find yourself toppling forward as it leaves you. You catch yourself on one hand, and look down at Joel.

He’s fucking wrecked, face covered in your juices, and totally blissed out. He looks like he’s achieved a higher plane of existence, eyes closed, breathing heavy and licking his lips. You both just breathe for a moment, completely winded.

And then he opens his eyes.

His gaze immediately locks on yours, and he growls. It happens so fast you barely follow it, but suddenly he’s up again and flips you onto your back. “Never thought I’d get to have this again.” His voice is low and you feel it rumble deep through your chest. He pulls you down the bed by the hips, spreading your legs and wrapping them around his waist. “This perfect fucking pussy, fucking made for me.” His left hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just holding you, as his right reaches down to rest the tip of his cock at your entrance. You can feel it there, just barely pushing at you, notched in place.

You gasp, overwhelmed, and beg him, “please, Joel. I need you.”

He leans over you, right hand coming to rest by your head, forehead pressed to yours as he whispers your name. “I want to live right here, in bed, with you. I want to pass my days with my face buried in your pussy. I want you to sit on my cock until you can’t take it, until you cry, until you forget what it feels like not to be full of me. I want you right here with me every day until I die. Just like we promised.” With the last word, he sinks into you, steadily, filling you all the way up until his hips meet yours. You sob and clutch at his shoulders.

“I want you just like this. Beautiful and overwhelmed. Full of my cock. So wet you’re dripping. Needy and at my mercy.” He squeezes your neck gently, just the way you like. He leans down and captures your mouth, tangling your tongues together as he twists his hips a little, keeping himself fully inside of you. You taste yourself on his tongue.

“I want you, honey. What do you want?”

You reach up and grab his ass in both hands, squeezing.

“I want that too, baby, want to do that, be that for you.” You take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye.

“And right now I want you to fuck me, Joel Miller, and I want you to mean it.”

He grins wider than you’ve seen him, since you found him again. He looks younger and a bit wild. “That’s my good girl.” His words sink into you like a stone falling into a pool, sending ripples down your spine.

And then he does.

He pulls out, almost all the way, and then pounds into you. He finds a rhythm and keeps it up, resting his forehead on yours and sliding his left hand behind your neck. You breathe each other in as you lift your hips to his, chasing the same high. You can feel it, dancing ahead of you, as his cock fills you just right with every thrust. He drops his head to your shoulder and moves his right hand down to your clit. “One more, baby,” he murmurs in your right ear. “Give me one more. I need to feel your pussy squeeze me tight.” You close your eyes and fall into it, letting him sweep you away. His hips speed up as his fingers match his thrusts in rhythm on your clit and you cling to him, just trying to hold on with your arms and legs.

He’s pushing you higher and higher, just about there, and you squeeze your pussy tight right when he squeezes the back of your neck. He opens his mouth and bites down on your shoulder and your vision goes white. You clench around him, crying out his name, and his hips stutter as he follows you upwards and over. You hear him say your name, over and over again, as your orgasms slam into you both and then leave you loose and tingling in their wake.

You’re both breathing hard when he reaches down to ease his cock out of you before flopping down on his back at your side. He groans. You can’t move your legs, and you tell him so. He huffs a weak laugh in response.

Somehow Joel finds the strength to roll over and reach for his shirt, which he uses to clean you both up. You smile, knowing he’s going to be annoyed with himself for doing that in the morning. He flops back down and pulls you into him on his left, hitching your thigh over his leg and pulling you close with an arm around your waist. The position is at once so familiar, like an echo, and so longed for that it makes you dizzy.

“Not sure our backs ‘n knees are up for all that vigorous activity anymore, darlin’.” He’s breathless as he says it, and you can hear his heart racing under your ear on his chest.

You know he’s right - your pussy is throbbing a little and you know it won’t go that way every time, not these days. But you tease him anyway. “Speak for yourself, old man, I’m still young and limber.” He laughs. “Got seven years on you, anyway.”

He nuzzles into your hair, squeezing the wrist you’ve thrown across his chest with his right hand. “Still blew me away, baby, even if my back is killing me. Fucking made for me, I told you.”

You inhale deeply, and settle onto his chest. His scent is comforting and it settles something inside of you that hasn’t been settled in a long, long time. “Made for each other, more like. I missed you so goddamn much, Joel.”

“I missed you too, darlin’. Every fucking day. Even when I pretended I wasn’t thinking about it.” He takes a deep breath, pulling you closer. “I hope you weren’t alone for all of it. I – well, I –” You know what he’s getting at, so you interrupt before he can twist himself up into knots.

“I know about Tess, Joel. Tommy told me. I’m glad you had someone.”

“Course he did. Well, I’m glad you know.” He sighs.

“I do, but Joel, I had someone too. For a little while, anyway. That’s why he told me, I told him first.” You take a deep breath. “It was in Atlanta. We were as much as we could be for each other, which wasn’t enough probably. But we did ok. She was…” You close your eyes, remembering Michelle. He brushes his hand down your back, soothing you. “She was good, and kind, even in the apocalypse when most of us were hard. Including me.”

“I’m glad you had someone. I wish I was there, of course, but I wouldn’t want you to be alone, all that time.”

You nod against his chest, agreeing. “We’ll tell each other all about it, eventually.”

He goes quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t let myself do it often, but sometimes I tried to imagine we were wrong. That you were alive. And what it would have been like if that were true.”

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“What it would be like to just run into you on the street. I… well. I didn’t think about it often. Because I was pretty sure you would have hated the man I’d become.” You try to pick your head up to look at him but he brings his hand up to smooth over your hair, keeping you where you are. “I wasn’t… they were never happy thoughts. I couldn’t imagine a reunion where you saw what I’d become and didn’t turn right back around and leave me there. ‘N I would’a deserved it. So I tried not to think about it.”

“Joel, I-.” He interrupts, continuing like he’s afraid he’ll stop if he doesn’t.

“In some ways I’m glad I found you now. I wish I’d known earlier, of course I do. But I’m more… me, now. I was a ghost, in Boston. I said barely living, but I felt barely human.” He pulls you tighter against him. “You wouldn’t have deserved being around me like that. No one did. Ellie didn’t, that’s for sure. Somehow she stuck around me long enough for me to remember how to be human again anyway.”

You push yourself up and don’t let him hold you down. Looking at him, you see that his eyes are teary, and he’s frowning.

“Joel, I used to think about it too. And I worried the same thing - that I’d become something you wouldn’t want anymore. Someone hard, and mean, and unyielding. But neither of us were right, baby. I didn’t fall in love with only one part of you. I fell in love with all of you. And I think we both know how ruthless we might have become at times in the last 20 years, to survive.”

He closes his eyes and nods.

“It was never a question for us back then, how much you’d do to protect us. How far you’d go. And I didn’t exactly shy away from it myself.” He huffs a laugh like he agrees with you, eyes still closed. You reach out to cup his face.

“I know we didn’t get to say it back then, baby, but we would have said for better or for worse, and I would have meant it. That’s what I used to wonder about and try not to let myself want too much - to have you there for the worst of it. Not to have to go it alone.”

He finally opens his eyes again and he’s looking at you with not a little wonder. He brushes his fingers down your cheek.

“I forgot, for a long time, what it was like to be trusted like that. To be someone’s safe place. I couldn’t, or wouldn’t maybe, let myself with Tess, and, well. She deserved more than I could give her.” You can see the regret in his eyes, and it’s so familiar. You used to think the same thing about Michelle, wishing you could give her more of you, knowing there wasn’t more to give. Not back then. “I remembered it, with Ellie. It was hard as shit, don’t get me wrong.” You laugh a bit, and he smiles. “Thought caring like that would take me out for good. Feels like it sometimes, still. But I’m remembering how, with her. And now with you.” He tucks your head back down on his chest and pulls you closer, almost on top of him.

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“This doesn’t feel real. It’s too… I’m too happy.”

“I know. I feel it too, baby.” He kisses you softly right at your hairline. “I feel it too.”

...

a/n: See you next week for the +1/epilogue! It's... not short. lol

ch 6/epilogue now posted!

Taglist:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe @huffle-punk (@poodlebae just realized I forgot to tag you!! Sorry!!)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #over again fic #tlou fanfiction #my fic #x reader

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up2123753theories · 10 months ago

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Identity

Definitions

The fact of being who or what a person or thing is

A close similarity or affinity

Rem Koolhaas: National Identity In Architecture

As said on ‘Psychology today’, a person’s “identity encompasses the memories, experiences, relationships and values that create one’s sense of self”. As much as this quote is in reference to a person’s identity it can also be related to architecture. For example, the style of buildings and placement in certain countries and cities can be seen as part of that locations identity as sometimes architects use a places’ history as inspiration for new buildings. Identity plays a large role in everyday life, from personal identity to a companies identity to a nations.

Utilities One explains the link between architecture and personal identity: “Physical spaces and places play a significant role in shaping our well-being and personal identity.” This quote really shows the importance of our surroundings and how it affects our identities. A colourful surrounding could make some very colourful and happy but it could also make others almost ‘rebel’ and dislike colour.

Even though identity is usually recognised within people it is also applicable to buildings, objects and places. Everything has different memories and characteristics which identify them.

Quotes:

“Identity encompasses the memories, experiences, relationships and values that create one’s sense of self” – Psychology Today “Physical spaces and places play a significant role in shaping our well-being and personal identity” – Psychology Today “It should be people-specific and should also represent the way of life of such people” – Chukwuali “Architecture As Identity” – Abel

References:

Abel, Chris. Architecture and Identity : Towards a Global Eco-Culture. Oxford England ; Boston, Architectural Press, 1997.

Adebayo, Anthony, et al. “Architecture: The Quest for Cultural Identity.” Facta Universitatis - Series: Architecture and Civil Engineering, vol. 11, no. 2, 2013, pp. 169–177, www.researchgate.net/publication/274829351_Architecture_The_quest_for_cultural_identity, https://doi.org/10.2298/fuace1302169a.

C. B. Chukwuali, "The influence of cultural pluralism on architectural practice in Nigeria: The content,

the context and the imperatives", Journal of Nigerian Institute of Architects, Enugu State Chapter, Vol. 1, No. 3, 2005, pp 13-20.

“Construction Spaces and the Influence on Personal Identity and Self-Expression.” Utilities One, 6 Nov. 2023, utilitiesone.com/construction-spaces-and-the-influence-on-personal-identity-and-self-expression. Accessed 20 Jan. 2024.

“Identity | Psychology Today.” Www.psychologytoday.com, www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/identity#:~:text=Identity%20encompasses%20the%20memories%2C%20experiences.

Oxford Dictionary. “Oxford Languages.” Oxford Languages, Oxford University Press, 2023, languages.oup.com/google-dictionary-en/.

WA Contents. “ Rem Koolhaas: National Identity in Architecture,” WorldArchitecture.org, 26 Mar. 2014, worldarchitecture.org/article-links/pmezp/rem-koolhaas-national-identity-in-architecture.html.

During my research on identity I came to the realisation that even structures have their own identity and that they also help to create the identity of a place. For example, New York wouldn’t be the same without all its skylines which use their height to show off the powerful and wealthy identity of New York.

Chris Abel is a writer and educator who focuses on architectural practices, based in Malta. He has visited and taught in many big universities across the world. He is the author of a book called ‘Architecture and Identity’ which consists of a variety of his key essays that look into cultural and technological changes that are reshaping modern architecture. ‘Architecture and Identity’ is separated into three separate parts: Science and technology, Critical Theory, and Regionalism and Globalization. Within the section on Regionalism and Globalization he has a sub-section called “Architecture as Identity”. Within this chapter Chris looks at how architecture is used to show a places’ identity.

I strongly agree with, “Architecture as Identity” as a quote itself. This is because it shows that our architecture will and has always been used as a way to show a society or communities identity and what they find important and what they believe in, which they have done for centuries through the use of temples, churches and houses, etc.

I believe that as much as our personal identities are important, the identity of our architecture and what it tells others is and has always been equally as important. It shows off power, beliefs, religions and how our society works with each other.

Throughout my research I found that identity is such a broad subject that it is fairly tricky to pin point it to one specific topic. I tried to focus on identity within architecture as best I could to avoid going completely off-topic.

#architecture #interior architecture #design #history

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covid-safer-hotties · 2 months ago

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Also preserved on our archive

By Adam Piore

There’s still no cure for the debilitating condition. But some front-line clinicians are finding ways to help patients feel better.

Until Elizabeth Kenny shuffled into Dr. David M. Systrom’s clinic at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in May 2022, she’d pretty much given up hope.

Two years earlier, the 50-something actress took to her bed with COVID-19, feverish and exhausted, to wait for her body to repair itself. Instead, Kenny’s 101-degree fever lasted 70 days and left behind a series of life-altering symptoms that perplexed every doctor she’d consulted. She’d stopped sweating. Her body fluctuated between feeling hot and freezing cold. She had so much trouble digesting food that she became malnourished. She developed a stutter. Bright lights made her vision blur. The back of her head often felt like someone had whacked it with a frying pan. Her heart raced. But the worst part was the relentless, soul-crushing exhaustion.

Systrom, she recalls, “was the first person that when I was describing my symptoms, wasn’t going ‘weird,’” said Kenny, who lives in Arlington. “He was like, ‘yep.’ And then asking me questions that nobody had asked.” Systrom told her that “obviously” Kenny had long COVID. Then he introduced her to a series of unfamiliar words that she would come to know intimately in the weeks that followed: “dysautonomia,” “small fiber neuropathy,” and “mast cell disorder.” It was the beginning of a new phase in her illness. One with hope.

The US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates almost 7 percent, or close to 18 million Americans, are afflicted with the mysterious condition known as long COVID, a syndrome that is so heterogenous, elusive, and difficult to treat, it took a year for some doctors to even acknowledge it was real. In the years that followed, the federal government has doled out more than $1.6 billion to study it, helping to make it one of the most researched diseases in any four years of recorded history. Yet we have little to show for it.

In July, the National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine, at the behest of the Biden administration, published an official definition of the condition. Long COVID occurs after a COVID-19 infection, lasts for at least 3 months, affects one or more organ systems, and includes hundreds of possible symptoms and diagnosable conditions, scientists wrote. But there are still no approved blood tests to diagnose long COVID, no clinically validated treatments, and no cure.

The news is not all bad. Five years in, a small but growing cadre of front-line clinicians such as Systrom are beginning to unravel some of long COVID’s most vexing mysteries. In the process, they are achieving something that once seemed impossible: they are finding ways to help patients, including Kenny, get their lives back.

Doing so requires improvisation, experimentation, and a willingness to work at the edge of medical knowledge. Systrom and his colleagues discuss promising scientific papers and trade tips at conferences, on Zoom calls, and in email chains. Their growing well of anecdotal experience is pointing the way toward the groundbreaking research and clinical trials that will be needed to develop a standard of care in the years ahead as we grapple with a slow-burning public health crisis that shows no sign of abating. While the incidence of long COVID has dropped from roughly 10 percent at the peak of the pandemic to about 3.5 percent among the vaccinated, only about 25 percent of those who develop the condition recover, according to Systrom and other front-line clinicians.

In September 2021, Systrom was among the first clinicians in the nation to demonstrate a measurable change in the physiology of patients suffering from long COVID — and explain how those changes might account for the crushing fatigue that is among its most debilitating symptoms. The study helped establish long COVID as a legitimate condition and overcome the skeptics, said Dr. David Putrino, who runs a long COVID clinic at New York’s Mt. Sinai Hospital.

The study grew out of his experiences with patients: Prior to the arrival of COVID-19, Systrom, a critical care physician who runs a pulmonary clinic at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, had spent years studying chronic fatigue syndrome, also known as myalgic encephalomyelitis, an illness afflicting more than 3 million Americans. When Systrom saw his first long COVID patients — before the condition even had a name — he recognized their symptoms immediately. They were similar if not identical to those reported by patients with chronic fatigue.

To prove it, Systrom had 10 patients don masks and threaded thin, flexible tubes into their jugular veins and major arteries in the forearm to measure the concentration of oxygen absorbed into the lungs, passed into the bloodstream, and taken up by the body’s muscles as they underwent rigorous workouts on stationary bicycles.

Patients who reported symptoms of long COVID absorbed just as much oxygen into their lungs as those without it. But the amount reaching their muscles — oxygen needed to produce the energy required by the exercise — was dramatically reduced, Systrom found.

A growing body of research suggests that both long COVID and chronic fatigue are post-viral syndromes that result in chronic, low-grade inflammation that can damage healthy tissue and, in some cases, the production of auto-antibodies that can attack it.

Systrom and others have begun to catalog the scope of the microscopic carnage caused by the immune system’s friendly fire. Using skin biopsies, Systrom has identified damage to the vast microscopic network of small nerve fibers responsible for sending a wide array of sensory information to the brain. The brain uses that information to regulate involuntary physiologic processes including heart rate, blood flow, temperature, breathing, digestion, and sexual arousal. The result is a condition called “dysautonomia,” a failure of the autonomic nervous system often associated with diabetes as well as autoimmune and degenerative nerve disorders.

They have also identified reductions in mitochondria, the microscopic powerhouses that produce the chemical energy needed to perform basic cellular functions.

For many patients, these findings have been a revelation.

“He’s taken me from feeling completely lost in the woods to at least now just being on the edge of the woods,” Kenny said. “At least now I have a partial understanding of what’s happening to me.” Perhaps more important, Systrom and others have begun to find ways to blunt the condition’s most debilitating symptoms.

Most front-line treatments are still “anecdotal, based on our hunch and experience that we’ve amassed in the clinic over the past several years,” said Ziyad Al-Aly, a clinical epidemiologist at Washington University in St. Louis and leading long COVID researcher, who runs a long COVID clinic.

To tamp down the toxic low-level inflammation, Systrom often prescribes a low dosage of naltrexone, an anti-addiction drug. He and others recently launched a randomized clinical trial to demonstrate the success they have seen in the clinic. He uses Midodrine, a drug that can cause blood vessels to tighten, to increase blood pressure, which can fall dangerously low due to the problems with autonomic nerve signaling. And he offers Mestinon, approved to treat a chronic autoimmune neuromuscular disease called myasthenia gravis, to improve communication between the small nerve fibers and the brain.

Other promising off-label therapies listed by Al-Awy, Putrino, and others include emergency opioid medications that seem to attenuate brain fog, transdermal patches that deliver mitochondrial supplements, and antihistamines, which can be used to tamp down the overactivation of the immune system’s mast cells in tissues.

These treatments have not been validated by the Food and Drug Administration and the success rate varies by patient type, symptoms, and clinical practice. While Putrino and Systrom both believe the transdermal patches have helped their patients with mitochondrial dysfunction, for instance, Al-Awy has less confidence in their efficacy and is thus far less likely to prescribe them.

For Kenny, these medications make a difference. Today, she can move around her house and do things for five hours a day, instead of just two. Her brain fog has lifted enough that she can write for small windows of time. She no longer suffers from intestinal distress so severe she has to use the bathroom five times a day.

Her disease feels like a disability, not a death sentence.

“There’s this huge difference depending on which doctor you end up with,” she said. “I could have just as easily been put with a different doctor who doesn’t have Systrom’s background, who would give me that speech: ‘This is a brand new disease. We don’t know anything. This is all emerging. We still don’t know.’ I got lucky.”

#mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #public health #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #wear a respirator

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griffther · 2 years ago

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there’s so many ppl enabling me in the notes of this post, so here enjoy some Thoughts i’ve had about the nurseydex maine road trip so far:

they do a road trip up the coast of maine over fall break their senior year so that nursey can see acadia national park while the leaves are changing

william “acts of service” poindexter decides that it is his Responsibility as nursey’s captain and fellow d-man to become maine’s official tour guide barbie. he plans the entire thing out and even prints them little itineraries and maps and shit because this boy is nothing is not Efficient

nursey makes them stop to see every single lighthouse they go anywhere near just to be a little shit (there are 65 lighthouses in maine, this would take So Long even if you just stopped at like a quarter of them)

the only canonical reference i could find for any actual locations in maine in the comic is that dex said his uncle who owned the lobster fishing boat he worked on over the summers lived in portland

(a side note to the above, i find this hilarious. portland is an pretty solidly liberal urban city - imagine a very small boston - and not somewhere you’re very likely to find small family-owned lobster fishing boats, at least in my experience. it would make way more sense for his uncle to live somewhere like rockland but i digress)

dex is 100% positive that nursey would Love portland so he carves out two whole days of their trip for them to stay with his uncle and explore. they go to the art museum and old port and the port head lighthouse and the top of the world lookout at fort sumner park and all the little shops and hidden places dex had found from living there every summer for years

nursey does end up loving portland but it might be more about the boy that shows it to him

even though his uncle lives in portland, i am still personally convinced that dex’s family mostly lives around the rockland area. i will go on a rant about nursey meeting dex’s close family another time, but while they’re in rockland, nursey continues his dedication to seeing all the lighthouses he can by forcing dex to make the almost mile long trek out to the breakwater lighthouse with him (don’t think about them standing alone next to this little building almost a mile out from land. the wind is chilly and strong and it makes dex’s hair look ridiculous and his cheeks flush and nursey definitely doesn’t want to kiss him ITS FINE ITS CHILL)

dex has them make a detour up to bangor and surprises nursey with going to see stephen king’s house. he doesnt understand why people are interested in looking at some dudes house At All but he does know nursey would love it so he does it anyways. the fence is cool and nursey gets so excited he almost face plants jumping out of the car, so dex counts it as a success

some random places i feel like dex would make them stop at along the way: freeport (nursey is both so confused and so delighted by just Everything about that place, but he loses his mind over the mcdonald’s and the ll bean outlet), ogunquit (dex purposefully takes highway 1 instead of the maine turnpike going towards portland so that they drive through ogunquit and he can see nursey’s face when he realizes they’re driving through the single gayest town he’s ever seen in his life and it’s in southern maine), moose point state park (there are a billion lil state parks in maine but i just randomly like this one in particular idk i think it’s cute), camden hills state park (it’s too foggy when they get there to drive up to the top so nursey makes them go on a hike instead so they didn’t “waste their time.” they get lost within like 10 minutes and are wet from the fog by the time they make it back to the car like 2 hours later), the desert of maine (it’s kinda boring to dex bc he’s seen it a dozen times since he was a kid, but nursey gets enthralled by the science behind it so it’s worth it), cushing (this is where the famous painter andrew wyeth lived at the olson house and was the subject of a lot of his work and i just feel like nursey would have fun seeing this place)

when they eventually make it to acadia, nursey ends up spending like two solid hours just sitting at sargent peak staring out over everything and desperately scrawling out lines of poetry into his notebook (dex spends most of those 2 hours staring at nursey but somehow doesn’t notice that nursey definitely isn’t writing about the scenery)

#im thinking about legitimately writing this out but hoo boy it'd end up being so long #will anyone actually see this? no probably not but it was fun to get it out of my head lol #lmk if any of you want me to add pics of these places so you have reference for wtf im talking about without having to google everything #nurseydex #derek nurse #william poindexter #omgcp #nurseydex maine roadtrip au

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maniacwatchestheworld · 10 months ago

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About Metahuman Bigotry in the DC Universe

So as I keep browsing things within the DPxDC space, I continue to find it... Off... How people portray bigotry against metahumans within the DC universe. Because like... No. The Justice League would not see ghosts as so much of a threat that they would try to hunt down and exterminate them. They would not discriminate against Danny for being half ghost and deny him entry into the Justice League on those grounds alone. And I think that a lot of this is just kinda a misunderstanding of how bigotry against metahumans is typically portrayed within the DC universe.

As always, what I am about to discuss is highly subjective and is purely based around my own understanding from what DC media I have been consuming within the past year or so of being in this fandom space and my own experiences within minority communities. I have no doubts that media offering examples of the contrary exist out there, and I could easily be missing something HUGE from past comic runs. I'm not an expert, but these are some general trends that I myself have noticed. Proceed under the cut for more discussion. (This post got LONG very quickly!) And of course, trigger/content warning for discussions of bigotry of all kinds under the cut. (Not a lot of specifics are mentioned, but it's still worth saying.)

(Also as a brief aside, I am a person of color (mostly a Filipino/Caucasian (Irish/Scottish) mix), I am asexual (panromantic) and nonbinary, and am neurodivergent, but also come from a privileged middle class background and am often white-passing, so I do very much have my own blind spots and personal biases when discussing this kind of stuff. In any case, here we gooooo!)

Now, first off, what do I mean by metahuman? I know that there is a specific metahuman condition within the DC universe that has to do with Nth metal and genes or something, but that's not what I'm using it for here in this context. Because truth be told, within my last year of gorging myself on DC comics and related media, I have barely heard that term used at all. And where I have heard it used, it is not in that context! "Metahuman" as a descriptor in my experience is more generally used to refer to anyone who is basically a person, but isn't necessarily a human or humans with powers and abilities that are beyond what a typical person may have that can change their appearance or biology to be non-human within the DC universe. Big example? Superman. If you do an image search of "metahuman dc" on Google or anything like that, what will likely come up is a bunch of images of Superman first and foremost! Superman is strictly speaking, not a human being. Because he is a Kryptonian. But for all intents and purposes, he is a person and ought to be treated as a human. Hence, metahuman. He is human in a more overarchingly general or meta sense than as a biological fact. So aliens like Superman, Starfire, or Martian Manhunter? Metahumans. People with supernatural conditions that can make them look or biologically be non-human like Poison Ivy, Killer Croc, Beast Boy, Ebon, or Plastic Man? Metahumans. Species born on Earth with intelligence and abilities comparable to humans like King Shark, Aquaman, Gorilla Grodd, or Red Tornado? Metahumans. Demons, gods, Amazonians, Antlanteans, aliens, androids, science experiments gone wrong, bang babies, people born with strange abilities, and yes. Even ghosts and half-ghosts would all be counted under the umbrella term of "metahuman"! So very VERY clearly the Justice League wouldn't discriminate against ghosts... NOT WHEN THEY ACTUALLY HAVE GHOSTS LIKE BOSTON BRAND ON THEIR TEAM! And not when the majority of the Justice League consists of people that could fall under the metahuman umbrella!

So with that out of the way, let's get to the actual bigotry!

Now I assume that a lot of how people think about metahumans and how bigotry against them would manifest in a universe like DC's comes from pieces of media like what is seen in the X-Men movies or Captain America: Civil War aka Marvel properties. Mobs of people protesting the existence of metahumans, trying to legislate them. Open, outright, hostile bigotry where people speculate on whether certain groups of people ought to be allowed to live or not. Metahuman characters within the Marvel Universe (like the X-Men specifically) have to face the very real threat of genocide from a world that looks at them with disdain and wants them gone. It's a very real, very pressing issue that does face many people in real life today! Their metahumans are often a metaphor for oppressed minorities. Which is a great way to get people within the hegemony to understand and sympathize with people who exist outside of it and it is wonderful for people within minority groups to see these fictional groups that are facing the same issues as them to be able to fight against, and win in their battles against bigotry!

But this isn't really how DC does things. Because when DC decides to tackle subjects of bigotry, they do not tend to shroud their meaning under the veil of metaphor. They just deal with it outright. When DC wants to talk about white supremacy and why it's terrible, they have Superman battle against the Ku Klux Klan. When they want to show the unfair treatment of black people within our society, they retcon the way that the Big Bang happened and how Static got his powers for it to have been because of police brutality against protestors during a Black Rights Matter protest! There was recently a book in which the Alan Scott Green Lantern went to get and saw firsthand the horrors of conversion therapy. When they want to show how shitty people can be towards trans people, Xanthe visits their parents who deadname and do not respect their pronouns (while Constantine does)! Superhuman abilities and powers are not a metaphor for being a downtrodden minority within the DC universe. These characters are just often and outright already a part of these minority communities! Being a metahuman is just another layer of bullshit that they have to deal with on top of that! And that's intersectionality right there baybee! A character's metahumaness can bleed into how they perceive their race or gender or disability or other status and vice versa! Characters still very much face bigotry and live in an unequal society that may seek to eliminate them within the DC universe. But they are just not necessarily being targeted for their metahumaness specifically.

Of course bigotry still exists in the DC universe, but bigotry against metahumans specifically tends to happen on a different scale than in Marvel. People don't tend to go out en masse and protest Superman's existence, telling him to go home. People generally like Superman being in Metropolis and understand that his home planet was destroyed and that he's a refugee living here on Earth... But there are still people out there who don't think that Superman can be trusted because he's an alien. There are people who think that his kindness is just a front and that he is just the first arrival to prepare the Earth for "his kind" to invade Earth. There are people who would find the idea of him falling in love with and having children with a human being to be absolutely abhorrent! But those people would never say those things about such a kind and friendly Kansas boy like Clark Kent! DC tends to deal with more of the little bigotries that society deems "acceptable," whether they intend to or not. People aren't calling for the genocide of Atlantis or Themyscira... But men will force their way onto Themyscira when they are strictly not allowed, or assume that everyone there MUST be a lesbian, or desperate for some action from a man! People who know about another person's metahumaness will often make assumptions based off of them. No, Gorilla Grodd does not want a banana since you're being an asshole about it and treating him like a mere animal, and no, Manbat does not drink blood- his species is a fruit bat and not a vampire bat, but he would prefer a sandwich regardless to be honest. Also, please stop screaming. He may be a giant bat, but he's actually here to help. Some people can go through most of their lives being seen as entirely "normal" and pass others by invisibly as a metahuman. But others are not so lucky and have a condition that makes people run the moment others see them. Robin, Raven, and Terra could go out and get some pizza without anyone batting an eye. But if Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Starfire did the same thing, people might stare and keep their distance. Clayface can choose to look like an ordinary human to go on a date or go Christmas shopping, but if Killer Croc tried to do the same thing, people would notice, scream and run. But just because Clayface can look human, that doesn't mean that his condition can't be debilitating, or that he is able to find stable employment. People with metahuman abilities face problems because of their abilities and appearances. And these problems can lead to escalation, thus trapping said metahumans in a cycle of pain, not brought on by themselves, but rather by how people choose to discriminate against them. Ritchie and Static may still be able to go to school and pretend to be normal kids, no one being the wiser, but Ebon and Talon? Would people really feel comfortable with them attending classes with how they look and their abilities? They are young. They are poor. They have no support. Who would want to hire them for a job when they look like... THAT!? And so they live on the fringes where people won't bother them. But they still need to eat and dress themselves. So they steal what they need to survive. They now have criminal records. And since they are metahumans, they're dangerous, right? So when the police hunt after them, they shoot to kill. And so they need to avoid the police as much as possible and therefore have to keep moving, hiding, and stealing just to survive. They have no stability. And so they can't improve their lives. They are caught in this cycle and can't escape. And even if they could try to hide what they are to "pass" in "normal" society... Why should they have to? It's not their fault that they ended up like this. This is just part of who they are now.

These are systemic issues. Microaggressions and discrimination based around ignorance and fear alike. Sure, a lot of these bits of discrimination are not as obvious or loud as genocide, but they are no less real, and they come with their own host of harmful behaviors. DC doesn't usually tend to handle the big bigotries with their metahumans in the ways that are as loud as with how Marvel handles them. Because you know what? There is enough of that in the real world based around real minorities and real people. They don't have to make up fictional movements against fictional bigotries for fictional people when there are real issues to be tackled and discussed! Why make up something fictional for these characters to have to face discrimination against when you can just make those characters be members of groups that are ACTUALLY being discriminated against right now in our real world!??? That doesn't mean that bigotry against metahumans isn't a thing in DC, but rather that the bigotries that metahumans face in their universe are the exact same as the bigotries that real people face in the real world. People being judged for how they look. People being judged for who they love. People being judged for how their anatomy works. People being judged for the accommodations they need. It's all the same. The prejudice faced by metahumans is the same racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, classism, and all the other little prejudices that real people face in real life, but with a bit of a fantastical flair! They are interconnected, just as these problems are interconnected in real life! And not until all of these groups work together to solve all of their collective problems and make life better for everyone because all of these problems overlap, can they all be free!

Neither of these ways of portraying bigotry is inherently better than the other. Both have their strengths, both have their place, and both are needed by different sorts of people! But what fits in the Marvel Universe feels off when seen in the DC Universe and vice versa. So seeing the Marvel-esque in your face, life or death bigotry against matahumans in what is supposed to be the DC universe just feels... Off.

Something very important to keep in mind when thinking about how things within the DC Universe operate relative to the Marvel Universe is this. The Marvel Universe tries to be Inspirational, and the DC Universe tries to be Aspirational. Both have their uses and place, and both can be very good, but for very different reasons! Just look at the biggest heroes within each company. Spiderman is supposed to be like you. And with enough intelligence, guile, hard work, and a bit of good luck, you can become someone like Spiderman. A hero. Marvel is good at creating heroes like you and showing you how you can be better and help out the lives of everyone around you. DC prefers to do something else. You probably weren't born as a multi-billionaire, nor will you likely be adopted by one. You are probably not an alien refugee from an exploded planet or raised on an island in a female only society and are a nigh immortal demi-goddess made out of clay. You aren't supposed to relate to these characters one to one. But DC likes to take these extraordinary people and show those people choosing to use their extraordinary abilities for good and to help others. It takes these incredible beings and tries to show us how, for all of their differences to us, they are still people who struggle and also love and care just as much as any of us. DC's universe is largely inhabited by larger than life people for you to aspire to be like, and shows them choosing to be good. They are characters for you to look up to, and if you were to be in a position like them where you had the ability and power to help... Wouldn't you want to be like them...? And I think that the worlds that these stories take place in reflect that. If you are someone who has seen people protest your existence and attack you just for being alive, then you will probably see yourself in the X-Men, and seeing them rise above it and prove those people wrong is going to be very inspiring! But there is also the need to see a world where that kind of bigotry is rare and unusual. It's good to sometimes see a world where stuff like that largely doesn't happen because people have collectively decided to be better for the sake of everyone! But just because the outright and obvious bigotry doesn't usually happen in this ideal world, that doesn't mean that bigotry is gone entirely either. But it is a better world than the one we have now and something to aspire to. I don't doubt that DC has stories which really tackle the big bigotries like that of which Marvel's mutants so often have to face. And I don't doubt that Marvel's characters have to face the interconnected little bigotries that DC characters sometimes have to face. But one thing that's nice about reading DC stories is just... Because they examine the smaller problems... We also get to see the small victories as well! We have yet to defeat the forces that lead to genocide of the oppressed. But when we don't wallow in that, we get to see what kind of world we might have without that. And in that world. It's okay to just be who you are, and to be just... Happy! Victor Stone is disabled and black and is able to grow up. Alan Scott is gay and survived conversion therapy and is able to grow old. Harley Quinn is able to escape her abusive situation, get into a more healthy place for her mentally, and find genuine, mutual love with Poison Ivy. Yes, people still have their biases and bigotries. Yes, problems still happen. But problems can be overcome. And in spite of these problems, you can still live and be happy. And the DC universe is one in which no matter what you are, you can be happy for who you are without compromises. The DC Universe is one that celebrates our differences in all of our myriad, uncategorical, and incalculable ways!

And so in these stories that are obstensively supposed to be in the DC universe, when people react to Danny being half ghost and it's met with disgust, derision, and fear by everyone including the Justice League...? When that's not what the story is about or criticizing or commenting on, but is rather done as a matter of course...? It just feels... Off. It feels wrong. For the Batfamily to look at Danny turn into a ghost with confusion or assurances that this isn't possible in the way Danny says it does, it's just odd. It feels off in a similar way as Batman making a joke about dead babies. Is it something that he could do and might have done in the past at some point? Sure. But that's not what Batman and his family should be! Because they SHOULD be reacting to Danny being half ghost with curiosity, excitement, acceptance, and assertions that they KNEW IT! And the Justice League shouldn't automatically see this new population of ghosts as invaders that need to be destroyed, but rather as a people who need to be understood. Sure, if they are looking to invade, that's one thing, but very few ghosts would be looking to do that. They are just more refugees looking to make a life on Earth. They are more possible friends and allies that might fight with them in their quest to protect everyone! And hey! If nothing else, they're more people for Boston Brand to be able to talk to and hang out with! The DC universe celebrates diversity! And this includes in terms of powers and abilities! The DC universe largely does not humor ideas of metahuman genocide on Earth because there is enough of that in the real world. And so they would not do that in a DPxDC universe either. At least I don't think that they would. But that's just my view on this subject and these ideas. I have no doubts that works saying the contrary are out there. You can certainly still play with these ideas in your works. But I want to see more diversity of ideas and more loving acceptance of ghosts and half-ghosts in these works too! Because that feels so much more DC!

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc #dc x dp #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #metahuman #bigotry #discrimination #prejudice #long post

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