#IT STILL TREATS YOU LIKE A SECOND OR THIRD CLASS CITIZEN

[elemental-alien]

fuck this shit

vent in the tags

[blackpilljesus]

I find community discourse incredibly annoying. People are often like "Wheres's the community? We need community! People are so individualistic these days". Individualism gets a lot of criticism but nobody ever questions why this happens. While there are some merits to communities, historically communities have mainly benefitted the priviledged. Most communities evolve into divide-and-rule politics where some are seen as more deserving than others (based on things that cannot be controlled). If you're a marginalised person, more often than not you get bs from communities, not love and protection as advertised.

When you're on the short stick side of the divide-and-rule politics in communities, communities are dangerous for you. It will be seen as acceptable to abuse & put you in horrible conditions simply bc of what you are. Those who abuse tend to be in higher positions in communities so when you call them out people wouldn't care or believe you. You'll be punished when you fight back however. When you're marginalised in a community you receive the worst brunts from people and it's seen as okay to be less deserving of support. You wont be supported in community.

People talk about "safety in numbers" but when the community faces trouble, they will have no problem abandoning or sacrificing the marginalised to save themselves at large. Communities have no problem throwing others away or isolating them once it benefits them. Alot of the time people are used & abused in communities so they're fed up with that, fed up of being treated like second class citizens in communities.

Look at the way communties people reminisce about & yearn for actually turned out. "We had community back in the day" yeah the same ones full of predatory uncles that would abuse women & children and get defended, the same communities full of victim blaming & shaming women + girls for being abused, the same communities where some were implicitly told they were more inferior but if they obeyed those higher up in power they can be forgiven. People talk about a lack of a "third place" bc of the rise of secularism so less are going to places of worship but many people leave those communities (even if their faith is still intact) because of corruption & abuse. The judgements & hypocrisy in these places is a lot (one of the reasons I personally left religion & the community too).

Best believe if you can hold your own down, being in a community is more dangerous than being alone bc like i said when things go south your ass will be on the chopping block first. Hell if people just want to abuse, they'll go for the marginalised first & so much abuse is enabled in communities. They'll ostracise & shun you and the threat of that alone keeps many in line to uphold abusive structures in place in communities.

"But humans are natural social creatures that want to be in groups" is something I hear often & that should make you stop and think of how so many people going against this instinct to survive says a lot about how dangerous alot of communities are. It's our nature to socialise, be in groups yet it's chosen to be independent because of the danger groups actually present when you're not seen as a valued member of them.

At this point people would either say "look inwards" or "find better communities out there" but the problem is that status in communities isnt entirely based on the merit of the way you behave. Finding communities where you're accepted & valued IRL tends to be based on things you cant control. It's not like the internet where you put yourself out there & eventually find your community even if they live all over the world. In reality it's another ballgame, people are more closed off & judgemental if you dont fit certain standards so it's more difficult to find places where you'll fit in. Also, as mentioned the determining factors of the way you'll be treated in communities are based on things you cant control, your characteristics will do more speaking and determination for you. So it's not as easy as just "find a better community". Given the way activism is on the internet, many people forget how conservative & hostile the real world actually is. Things like sexism, colorism, racism, ableism, homophobia, lookism etc; play a big role in most communities irl which is why many people seek alt communities online even though those come with issues of their own but to not stray away from the point this is why many people arent fucking with -irl- community shit anymore.

This discource pisses me off because when you constantly receive crap from communities people blame you for it but when you leave you get badgered for not having or being part of community. Communities benefit the priviledged as they uplift those on top, they get to take more from communities & enrich themselves while those at the bottom get fucked over and it's no wonder so many people get fed up and decide to put things into their own hands than risk being in/trusting communities that wont hesitate to risk or end your life over bs. I know that not all communities out there will be horrible but as mentioned finding communities IRL where you'll be accepted as a marginalised person is difficult. Finding equitable communities where everyone is held accountable for their actions, where people genuienly help each other to get by & survive over divide-and-rule politics is difficult.

People complaining about lack of community but wont address the rampant abuse that happens in them tells me they dont care about community spirit as they claim they just want pools of people to exploit and are disguising it under communal spirit & protection. I dont fw communities & sometimes people will tell me i cant do everything alone, no man is an island -good thing i'm a woman then lol- but fr the people this crap comes from are the type of people that make communities suck & i wouldn't want to be in a community with them anyways bc they're horrible & would just exploit. Individualism is on the rise because so many of us marginalised people who grew up in communities realise we're better off alone & idc what anyone says if they feel they're better off within communitities then bet but a lot of the time others are better off alone. And icl one positive of capitalism is that it gives you a chance to rely on communities less & have a more independent lifestyle. Yes there's still a level of people/community engagement but we're not as tightly bound to a community like a small tribe in a village bc tbh i'd probably be dead by now if i had to live & rely on others that way.

Instead of just criticising individualism & guilt tripping people to join communities, if people actually care do inflection about your "communities". Except this wont happen bc this isnt about community spirit but looking for others to exploit which is why it's being aggresively pushed.

[likesunsetorange]

i think eren would kind of enjoy it though even if he pretends to hate it lol he likes her attention!!!

Him trying not to react as she smooths his lapels, gives him another one over, all before telling no and to go back in the fitting room so she can go talk to an associate at whatever fancy store they’re at!

omg anon this is so cute you gave me an idea for this scene i got inspired and i never write chronologically anyways so here's a mini drabble! (will this be the exact version idk, but hope you enjoy anyways!!!)

By no means had Eren ever been poor, his dad was literally a doctor. He had grown up living a comfortable life—one that consisted of the typical upper-middle class luxuries. His college had been paid for in full, he was treated to little luxuries like the newest gaming systems and trendy clothes, and there were certainly never any worries about finances.

But this was certainly a level of wealth he didn't think he would ever get used to. There were crystal chandeliers on the ceilings, glasses of thousand dollar champagne that were being offered to every patron, and suits and dresses lining the racks that cost more than a down payment on a house. When Mikasa told him she was taking him suit shopping, he assumed they’d go to Neiman Marcus at the most, not whatever this was.

He felt like a fish out of water as he stood around in the dressing room, waiting aimlessly for Mikasa and Petra, the sales associate Mikasa seemed to be well acquainted with, to return with their third round of suits. Eren wasn’t sure why a simple black suit wouldn’t suffice, but according to Mikasa, he couldn’t show up to a political event in a just any old regular suit, let alone a rental.

So here he was hours later being forced to try on suit after suit, nothing seeming to please her. His patience was starting to run thin and he was tired, but surprisingly, Mikasa was being oddly… nice? Given the word nice may have been him overreaching, but she was certainly withholding from the insults, and rather than speaking to him like he was a second class citizen, she was being friendlier than usual.

Eren assumed it was because, oddly enough, she seemed to be enjoying making him her own life-sized Ken doll. It was out of the ordinary for her to be directing so much of her attention towards him, let alone having her fuss over him and paying attention to something as small as whether or not the cuff links Petra brought out would match with the watch he always wore (he didn’t even think Mikasa had bothered to notice that he even wore a watch everyday).

He found himself fidgeting with his dress shirt sleeves, until he finally heard Mikasa’s voice growing closer. Eren could hear her laughing over what he assumed was something Petra had said—something he didn’t hear her do very often around the house. Before he knew it, there were three more suits being held through the curtain, the tiny peaking of her manicured hand holding up the hangers.

“Try on the blue one first, and show me once you’re done,” her voice direct, but less bossy than usual. “Please,” she added after, this time her voice almost inaudible.

As usual, he relented, but at least she had the decency to say please for once. Part of him was still annoyed he couldn’t just wear a black suit, but according to Mikasa, “all men wear black suits”, and he “needed to be different.” Why? He didn’t understand. He was just her bodyguard. But he had learned which battles to pick with Mikasa, and this unfortunately just wasn’t going to be one he’d win.

Eren was faster about getting dressed this time, after ten suits, it seemed to have become second nature, and also hoping this would be the last one he had to try on. He didn’t even bother to take a look in the mirror, throwing the curtain open and walking to where Mikasa was in the show room.

Her eyes flickered up from her phone, setting down the champagne glass she had in her other hand onto the table next her, standing up to inspect him.

Eren felt oddly vulnerable as she walked around, poking and prodding at the suit, making sure it was up to her (very high) standards. She stopped in front of him, fixing the lapels of his suit, smoothing them out. He could smell the floral of her perfume from how close she was, not used to her being in such close proximity before. Eren felt his ears growing out, but he was glad that she she took a step back before she could notice, a pleased look on her face.

“Hey, Petra! Can you bring me those two ties we picked out for this one, please?” Mikasa called out, Petra appearing with what seemed to Eren, two versions of the exact same patterned tie, placing them neatly in her hands before she scurried off to another customer. She looked between the two before settling on whichever she seemed to like more, before placing it in his hands. “Okay, put this one on.”

“Oh… Umm… I can’t tie a tie—I normally wear clip-ons,” he confessed, his ears turning red again.

“Tch, of course you can’t,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Okay, lift your collar up, I guess I can help you. And bend down a bit—you’re too tall.”

He followed as instructed, Mikasa’s surprisingly gentle fingers working around his neck to make do with the tie. If they weren’t in public, he’d be a little scared she’d try and choke him or something, but she seemed to be in a good mood today. She hummed to herself softly as she quickly fastened the windsor knot, faster than Eren would’ve done even with help. When she finished, she lightly placed his collar back down, her fingers like ice as they brushed the skin of his neck in the process. She gave him one final pat down, fixing every little detail, before bringing him to the mirror.

“Do you like it?” The tiniest bit of excitement in her voice, almost as if she wanted to be validated in her choice.

Eren eyed himself, and he could admit that he felt like he looked nice. But it didn’t feel like it was that much different than the ten other suits he tried on. He was never one to care about things like this, but he could tell it mattered to her, so at the very least, he could give her the satisfaction she was seeking.

“Yea, think this one’s probably the best out of all of ‘em.”

A small smile flashed across her face, before she ushered him to the fitting room. “Okay, hurry up and get changed then so we can go check out then.”

Eren finally bothered to look at the price tag, his eyes growing wide once he did. “Mikasa, this is like a $7k suit, are you sure?” He asked as he walked into the fitting room.

“We’re using daddy’s credit card, remember?” She replied rolling her eyes. “Plus, this is technically a business expense—you’re an employee—and rich people just love a good tax write off.”

“Okay, fine, if you insist.”

“Of course I do. Now hurry up, we still have to go get you shoes!”

All Eren could do was sigh, hoping Mikasa wouldn’t be nearly as picky with shoes as she was with clothes.

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

Jinx Propaganda for People Who Like Reading:

-Born in a literal underground slum, with toxic air and water whose residents are treated as second class citizens, being brutalized by law enforcement, opressed and exploited by the upper classes, and poisoned by industrial facilities that only make the wealthy elite wealthier.

- First orphaned in a massacre conducted by law enforcement to supress a lower class revolt at around six years old with her sister being her sole surviving relative.

-Gets adopted with her older sister and two adopted brothers (one of whom bullies her) and still poor enough her siblings regularly go out on jobs (aka breaking and entering, robbery, possibly smuggling) to make ends meet. Develops an inferiority complex centred around being "weak" and "useless" from never getting to come along and help on as she is too young.

-Her adopted father her only ever seems to try to parent her sister, and leaves parenting Powder to her teenaged sister instead, so she develops an emotional dependency on her.

-Dad no.2 gets kidnapped by guy he tried to kill, her siblings go to try and save him, leaving her behind. She goes after them with a highly volatile material she knows is explosive as hell (she has a hobby of making bombs, none of which ever work) and sets it off just as her siblings are about to save their father figure. It works, killing both her brothers and likely contributing to dad no.2's death (already dying from stab wounds and ingesting chemicals) in front of her sister's eyes.

-Sister learns she did this and understandably snaps, screaming at her, hitting her and storming off (and gets kidnapped by a third party). Orphaned for the second time and abandoned by her sister, the guy who kidnapped and stabbed dad no. 2, and was seconds from stabbing her too, ends up projecting his own trauma onto her and adopts her instead.

-She becomes up a part of dad no. 3's organization (involving drug trafficking and murder) as he becomes a kingpin. He tells her her sister is dead, instills a great deal of "we can trust each other and no one else, she ditched you, I helped you" and they grow emotionally codependent. She also suffers from psychosis, hallucinating her dead siblings (she also has creepy dolls of them hanging around in her room) and drowning in guilt and abandonment issues.

-In her late teens, she gets to reunite with her sister who has gotten herself a love interest, but their reunion is cut short by both sis and love interest getting kidnapped (a lot of kidnapping ik). She then at some point tries to kill the love interest whom she hallucinates as a straight up demon.

-Fights and tries to commit double suicide with her childhood friend (with whom she may have had romantic undertones) after he beats her bloody for being a psycho (she has killed plenty of his other friends at this point).

-Kidnaps dad no. 3 (whom she thinks betrayed her and whom she's probably planning to kill), sister and sister's love interest to hold a tea party where she asks her sister to kill her love interest to prove she chooses Powder over her. She does not. The party ends with her learning dad no. 3 never betrayed her, gave up his dream for her and still ends up shooting and killing him on accident during a mental breakdown, getting orphaned for the third time and parting ways with her sister knowing she'll never be able to accept her as she is.

[Propaganda]

[frutee]

Peel commision two state solution 1937

two state solution offered where the jews get jerusalem (their historical capital) and coastline and farmlands.

the arabs reject it because they were alloted “the negev desert, which is poor for farming and sparsely populated”.

the jews agreed to this solution. the arabs rejected it.

The first proposal for the creation of Jewish and Arab states in the British Mandate of Palestine was made in the Peel Commission report of 1937, with the Mandate continuing to cover only a small area containing Jerusalem. The plan allotted the poorest lands of Palestine, including the Negev Desert, and areas that are known today as the West Bank and the Gaza Strip to the Arabs; while most of the coastline and some of Palestine's most fertile agricultural land in the Galilee were allotted to the Jews.[16] Consequently, the recommended partition proposal was rejected by the Arab community of Palestine, and was accepted by most of the Jewish leadership.[17][18]

——

UN two state solution 1948

a two state solution is then offered where the arabs get the good farmlands, get to surround jerusalem (jewish historical capital). the jews in this solution get the “the negev desert, which is poor for farming and sparsely populated”.

the jews agreed to this solution, despite getting the short end of the stick, despite not getting their capital.

the arabs argued “we are 2/3 of the population, so we should get more land, including the desert” the desert that they didnt want before and rejected the previous two state solution based on.

The proposed plan is considered to have been pro-Zionist by its detractors, with 62% of the land (mainly the sparsely populated Negev desert) allocated to the Jewish state despite the Palestinian Arab population numbering twice the Jewish population.[6] Consequently, the partition plan was accepted by Jewish Agency for Palestine and most Zionist factions.[7][5] The Arab Higher Committee, the Arab League and other Arab leaders and governments rejected it on the basis that in addition to the Arabs forming a two-thirds majority, they owned a majority of the lands.[8][9]

——-

the palestinians not only rejected the solution where they got the best land, they then proceeded to attack the jews (like they had been doing forever, since before when they had a small native jewish population and treated them as second class citizens, since before when jewish immigrants legally bought land that was for sale, since jews started living in the barren land that was given to them after ww2)

so the palestinians attacked and then so did the 5 surrounding arab nations. they all attacked israel

and so israel fights back.

and what do u do when youre attacked by people who have been violent to you since the start? do you defeat them and then say “ok that was funny, have fun being my neighbor now, bye!”

no. you dont. if a murderer comes into your house with a gang trying to kill you, you dont just kick them out of your house, YOU BUILD A FENCE.

i genuinely dont understand what these people want israel to do. just sit there and let palestinans rain rockets down onto them from the hilltops to the north?

or do they expect israel to give up ALL their land like the palestinians demand. that the jews leave their native homeland once again, maybe the 30th time in the last 4000 years.(of course some jews still stay tho, and get persecuted)

israel already is a nation of equality and equal rights. the only reason the palestinians are not allowed free crossing into and out of israel IS BECAUSE THEY KEEP TERRORIZING PEOPLE they keep shooting, killing, bombing, stabbing, raping, etc.

if that happened to you youd build a wall too!!!

also lets not forget, the jews took that barren desert, those malaria infested swamplands that the arabs rejects in the first solution, and gave to the jews in the second solution. the jews took those lands and revitalized them, made huge human advancements in water purification technology, invented drip irrigation, invented desalination, and built the land up for their people

meanwhile the palestinians take their land and instead of putting money into infrastructure and education, they put ALL their aid money into weapons, terror tunnels, rockets, etc.

there would be peace if palestine would accept that the jews have the right to some of the land as well. and that it can be shared. if they stopped attacking, israel wouldnt have to have the walls and the patrols and the firing BACK. and the search for the rocket sources etc

israel has agreed to every single ceasefire, palestine has broken every single one

israel has agreed to every single two state solution, palestine has rejected every single one

israel gives extra land to palestine asking for peace, palestine responds by sending rockets.

for you guys to not know any of this history, and to parrot the slogans made by a bloodthirsty anti-semetic peoples is insane to me. its literally the modern day equivalent of nazis. this confirms my previous thought that most people on this site would have fallen for nazi propaganda and joined the fight against the “evil jews”.

like palestine has spread and created the most antisemetic nazi rhetoric since BEFORE there were nazis (reminder some palestinian and arab leaders were FRIENDS with nazis leaders)

[sadnesslaughs]

They say you die three times, first when the body dies, second, when your body enters the grave, and third, when your name is spoken for the last time. You were a normal person in life, but hundreds of years later, you still haven't had your "third" death. You decide to find out why.

“A third death! As if the first two aren’t traumatic enough. One day you’re wandering around, loving life and the next you’re struggling as your soul erupts from your corpse like some strange butterfly springing out of its fleshy cocoon. Maybe it’s a good thing I haven’t died my third death. It’s rumored that after your third death, you return to the mortal world and reincarnate. You know, go back and make yourself known again. Honestly, that sounds more hellish than hell.” I said, imparting my wisdom on the newly deceased bartender at Wings cocktail bar. The twenty something year old sighed, wiping a glass clean, going through the same introduction to heaven that all the others went through. When you first died, you had to earn your wings, as the angels called it. Which meant helping out at the facilities, and this lucky duck was my bartender for the evening.

“Sir. Please, this is more painful than the car crash I was in. Can you have your drink in silence? I’m not in hell am I?” He asked, having a youthful air that screamed I don’t respect my elders. Ugh, what was it with kids these days? Back in my day, I loved listening to old kooks rant about nothing. It kept me feeling superior, knowing how easy it would be to take their jobs when they went senile. Not about to let this kid miss my free introduction to heaven, I continued.

“That’s kind of funny, too. You have all these great conquers and dictators going around thinking they’ll be remembered for centuries for the things they’ve done. Each one writing about all their sins in history books, making sure that everyone will remember them. All of them having this misconception that it will grant them immortality, when all that does is grant you an eternity in hell. Of course, they’ll be allowed to reincarnate too, after their third death. If that ever happens. I’m sure there are a lot of great dictators now who wish they kept their mouths shut. How funny is life? Honestly. What a laugh it is.” I finished my whiskey sour, savoring that last mouthful, before nudging the counter with my glass. “Another.”

“Sir, surely you have something better to do. What’s the point of drinking when you can’t get drunk? Why don’t you go enjoy a massage or, better yet, find out why you’re still in this ‘heaven’?” Even if he reeked of sarcasm and petrol, he had a point. Why was I still here? I could always ask an angel, but sometimes it was nice to walk around the mortal world. It sure beat sitting around here with all the other souls.

“You know what, I think I’ll do that sonny. Here’s a tip for your trouble.” He smiled at the word tip, like a dog hearing the word treat. “Don’t expect tips in heaven. No one carries cash. That’s my tip.” I snapped my finger at him, certain he cursed at me as I left the bar, heading to the mortal elevator.

“Excuse me, senior citizen, coming through.” I muttered, pushing my way through the crowd that were waiting for the elevator. That was the funny thing about heaven. Everyone was so polite. Scared that they would be sent to hell for the slightest misstep. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Only deadly sins would get you plunged into hell. Being annoying wasn’t a sin. It was rude, but not bad enough to get you into eternal torment territory. Sometimes you would have to attend a ‘Politeness class’ if you got caught, but even then it was only a few hours of your day and I had all the time in the world.

When I got to the front, I squished into the next available ride, nodding to the other passengers inside. “Hey, how are you going? Weather’s perfect, ain’t it?” I laughed, the weather was always perfect, it’s heaven. No one appreciated my joke, talking amongst themselves, again another sign of how rude the whippersnappers were getting. Even those forty something year olds were really asking for a stern talking to.

You would think heaven would have a better form of transportation to get people to the mortal realm. An elevator seemed old-fashioned. Guess I couldn’t complain. I didn’t trust the newfangled technology, anyway. The elevator descended, passing by different realms as it did. It even passed hell momentarily, the little window in the elevator door flashing a hellish red as we started going past it. All the first-timers winced, scurrying away from the door while I approached, pressing my face against the window, feeling the warmth heating my cheek.

“HEEEEEEY, HOW’S THE WEATHER DOWN THERE?” I laughed, seeing a tattooed biker pause, glaring daggers at the elevator. He tried to keep a tough face even while the demon’s pike poked into his ankle.

“I’LL KILL YA.” He screamed, which only made me laugh more.

“Yeah, maybe in another life, buddy. Oi, horns, poke his shoulder.” I cheered. The demon gave me a puzzled look, trying to figure out what sort of reaction they should have. I could read that demon perfectly. The way his eyebrow raised gave it all away. He was thinking. ‘I should tell an angel about this idiot, but he’s also tormenting my prisoner, which is good.’ The demon gave the man’s shoulder a poke, accelerating his anger towards me.

“Raaaraagh. I’ll TEAR YOUR GUTS OUT.”

“Can’t wait.” I smiled, giving the demon a wave, which the demon returned, tipping an imaginary hat to me before we descended to Earth.

“Y-y…. you talked to a demon?” A young girl whimpered, looking at me as if I was crazed.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Demons aren’t that dangerous if you’re not a sinner. Think of them like German Shepards. Scary if you’re their enemy, but pretty friendly things if you’re not. Well, maybe not exactly like that, but you get what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.” She said, with a shake of her head.

“You’ll understand the longer you stay in heaven. Here’s a free tip. An actual one. Hell is both cold and hot. Even though it looks like it’s on fire, it can be rather cold. The temperature adjusts as soon as they get acclimatized to it. So, everyone’s experiencing their own temperatures and personal hell. Isn’t that fun?” The look of horror on her face told me she didn’t find it fun. Oh, well. She would see the brighter side of things someday.

On Earth, I made my way to my next of kin, not having a hard time finding them. Everyone remains connected to their bloodlines, even after death. Which is why it’s so easy for your relatives to visit you. I always thought it was stupid how people would claim an animal was actually their great-great uncle. But it’s all true. You can take many forms when you visit, you just can’t ever say it’s you. Which is pretty easy, since most creatures can’t talk. Except maybe parrots. Maybe that’s why you’re not allowed to come back as a parrot?

“That man’s a real Jerry Stamper.” The man huffed, hanging up his phone in frustration. That certainly wasn’t what I expected to see when I walked into the house of my great-great-grandson. Wanting to know why he shouted my name, I sat on the couch, watching his curious son put down his toys, walking over to his father.

“Daddy. What’s a Jerry Stamper?” He asked, reaching up for his father, who let out an exhausted breath before collecting his son, smiling as he cuddled his darling boy.

“A Jerry Stamper? I’m not sure, son. Dad just started saying it all the time and I kind of picked it up. Next time I ring him, I’ll ask, ok? Anyway, did you need some help with your toy?”

“Ah, huh. I don’t know which cape to put on Captain Fantastical. Can you choose?”

“Sure.”

I laid on the couch, watching the two play with the figures, groaning. When I groaned, they both stared at the couch, trying to find the source of the sound before the dad shrugged. Nothing interesting happened for the rest of the day, at least not until his wife walked in. I was glad to see the Stamper charm passed through the generations. He picked a beauty. The couple talked as they made dinner, discussing their days.

“The Funniest thing happened today. Brenden asked about Jerry Stamper.” The man said, cutting a few carrots.

“Jerry Stamper? That word you and your family say all the time? What even is a Jerry Stamper? I never thought to ask. Sounds like a curse when you all shout it.” She laughed.

“I’ll call dad and ask.” A phone call later and I was standing right by the man, giving him goosebumps. “Hey dad, what’s a Jerry Stamper?”

“A Jerry Stamper. Jeez, let me think.” The man on the other end of the line blew air into the phone, filling the silence as he thought. “It was something my grandad always used to say. Why did he say it, though?”

“It’s ok if you don’t know, just thought I would ask.”

“I know. I know. Don’t rush me.” A few more puffs of air later, and the answer came. “I think it was actually the name of a relative of ours. Apparently, he was a real bastard. A loveable one, but still a bastard. So, when he died, the family used to say his name as a curse, and I guess it caught on. Hah, maybe we should stop saying it. It’s wrong to speak ill of the dead, isn’t it?”

“Heh, he’s probably laughing at us right now, finding it really funny that we still remember his name.” I couldn’t hear the rest of the call, too busy sniffing back any emotions that were trying to escape.

“Those rascals. I should really give them a stern talking to when I get back to heaven. How dare you remember me in such a crass way?” I wiped my eyes, unable to stop myself from tearing up. “You, Jerry Stampers. You dirty Jerry Stampers. I love you all so much. Bless ya hearts, kids. Hope you live a good life with your hot wife.” As I went to leave the house, I paused, watching Brenden try to put together a toy truck. After a failed attempt, he sighed, going to the tv.

When I was sure he was distracted, I put together the truck, rolling it over to the couch. When it bumped his leg, he jumped, trying to figure out where it came from. It’s funny, kids really don’t question much, do they? He experienced a first hand supernatural experience, and he’s too excited about a truck to question it. Reminds me of myself when I was his age. “Hooroo.”

“Bye.”

I stopped, looking at the kid. He answered? He wasn’t looking at me, but he responded? Kids did apparently pick up on some supernatural stuff, so maybe he had heard that. I gave a wave before leaving, heading back to the elevator. Since I was in a good mood, I didn’t push all the way to the front, only going to the middle, taking some time to think about my experience before I got into the elevator. “Life’s a Jerry Stamper, aint it?”

[pi1d3rse]

_/\(:)/\_

hello person, would you like to know about BACKROOMS SPIDERS ???????????????????????? :)

BACKROOMS SPIDERS are politically united under the SPIDER KING, however there are many small groups that do not acknowledge his command. However due to most factions believing that the SPIDER KING is a direct descendant of the SPIDER GODS, he is still respected. Other groups that break off from the SPIDER KING are not respected by any

The SPIDER KING is the most powerful SPIDER to exist, he is said to be the child of two of the original spiders. Most SPIDERS, especially those who have seen him in person, believe that he is immortal. The SPIDER KING is very kind to most of the members of the community, except for when they threaten his or fellow spiders families. He has a large family and is the father of around 30% of SPIDERS in the backrooms

the SPIDER KING power is not only in his physical strength but also his ability to influence and charm others, he is also able to get information from anywhere and is able to communicate with the SPIDER GODS directly

---- There are three main SPIDER GODS who created the backrooms and all SPIDER life. The GREAT MOTHER, also known as the web, created the SPIDERS and allowed them to thrive. The SPIDER LORD created rules that allowed other insects to coexist with the SPIDERS, and is the one that the SPIDER KING was born of. The SPIDER GOD OF CHAOS created most of the dangers and threats in the BACKROOMS that the SPIDERS have adapted to

The SPIDER GODS are the most intelligent beings to exist in the BACKROOMS and are said to be infinitely powerful. They can be talked to through the mind of the SPIDER KING using his connections with them The SPIDER KING is known throughout the SPIDER community and is respected and treated like a living god, his influence is what holds BACKROOMS SPIDER POLITICS from devolving into all out civil war. The SPIDER LORD main use politically is in deciding rules and the treatment of NON-SPIDER life, and can make rules that the SPIDER KING might be unable to make and enforce. The SPIDER GOD OF CHAOS, however, has no say in backrooms politics and has no interest in the SPIDERS nor anyone else in the BACKROOMS The SPIDER GOD OF CHAOS is primarily interested in creating chaos and destruction in the BACKROOMS, with no motive or goal. This can be seen in the creation of things like SKIN STEALERS and the other dangers of the BACKROOMS ------ SKIN STEALERS are a type of hostile entity that lurks in the BACKROOMS. They are known for their signature loud footsteps and the feeling of immense cold when one is close. SKIN STEALERS are known to be aggressive and unpredictable, with them not being able to be reasoned with, they are known to eat humans and wear their skin to blend in ------ As far as SPIDERS are aware, humans are not a major threat to them, so they do not have any plans to harm them. However, they do feel a general dislike for them and do not respect them as equals Generally humans are excluded from BACKROOMS POLITICS and are treated as second class citizens by SPIDER society. However some SPIDERS are okay with humans and will make an effort to befriend them SPIDERS are typically very cautious of humans and may run away in fear if a large or sudden movement is made. The best way to approach them is by crouching and slowly reaching a hand out to be sniffed. This shows that you have no harmful intentions and the SPIDERS likely will feel more comfortable around you If you want to befriend a SPIDER, there are a few easy steps you can take. First, act curious and respectful, SPIDERS do not like to be treated as just another insect or creature. Second, be gentle and patient, SPIDERS may be wary of new people, and showing fear may result in them feeling threatened and leaving. Third, be open to learning about SPIDERS, as talking about SPIDERS with them will show your interest in them and help you two bond. Finally, be patient and know that befriending a SPIDER takes time !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE NOTE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There have been no known instances of BACKROOMS SPIDERS attempting to send humans back to the real world, and it is incredibly unlikely that they would help, due to their caution of humans. The only way to escape the BACKROOMS is to find an exit, which are extremely rare

[newberyandchai]

When You Trap a Tiger (2020)

I chose When You Trap a Tiger as my first Newbery Medal winner to read for several reasons. First, the cover looked colorful and enticing. Second, it was a newer book that I thought might give me a good idea of what more modern children's literature is like.

...And third, it was about a girl with Korean ancestry, which reminded me of a book I finished a few years ago called Pachinko. The book details three generations of a Korean family living in Japan and the hardships they faced while being treated as second-class citizens. I don't know a lot about Korean history, so I was curious if this book would give any insight into that from a child's perspective.

And I was kind of right, in a way. The story is largely about interpersonal relationships — the main character Lily's changing relationship with her sister Sam as they both grow older; Lily's halmoni (Korean for grandmother) keeping the magic of childhood and her culture alive for her granddaughter while attempting to hide her terminal illness; and Lily's mother, who has been uptight and distant since the death of Lily and Sam's father.

Their heritage colors every part of their relationships with one another. Sam wants Lily to grow up and stop being childish for still wanting to follow and believe in the more mystical aspects of Korean culture, such as leaving out food for spirits (although it's later revealed that Sam snuck out on multiple occasions to scatter rice and protect against the same spirits she claimed to not believe in).

Halmoni is the only one who believes Lily when Lily confesses she's been seeing tigers that no one else can see. However, Lily doesn't defend her in front of some boys in the neighborhood who call her halmoni a "crazy witch lady" and ask Lily if she curses people. Lily later regrets not saying anything in defense of her halmoni, but it's clear she struggles in that moment with understanding the full weight of the stigmas and assumptions that come with being Korean in modern Western society.

Lily's mom sees Halmoni's talk of spirits and rituals as just a symptom of the brain cancer Halmoni is suffering from, as though those things are just part of a fantasy land her mother is living in at the end of her life. To her, those old stories are like Santa Claus: you grow up believing in them, but you eventually come to find they aren't real and move on to more practical things. But this book asks, "What if they were?", all told through the eyes of a girl in that confusing transitional period between childhood and teenhood.

Instead of Korean history, I got a sense of how cultural practices and traditions change through time and across places, as well as how those things are both perceived and preserved in modern times.

For example, Lily gets to see the full spectrum of how her halmoni is viewed by the rest of the town:

As a helpful spiritual expert, but only to the townsfolk who also believe in pseudoscience like TV psychics.

As the crazy lady who curses people to the other kids Lily's age.

As a poor sick woman who should be pitied because she still follows spiritual practices.

There are so many other aspects of this book I could talk about — the stereotype of the Quiet Asian Girl that Sam wants Lily to rebel against, the "bad stories" Lily her grandmother stole from the tigers in her youth that Lily returns to them, and Sam's relationship with Lily from Sam's perspective...

...but in short, I teared up twice near the end and read the whole thing in one day. It's written very simply for a younger audience, but I had forgotten how many different themes can be conveyed while staying under a 4th-grade reading level.

The verdict? 8/10 and certified Recommendable.

[yasmijn]

On drawing lines

I am pretty good at reading between the lines. And it helped me to emit the right signal to the corresponding person. And yet at times, certain people might send puzzling messages that confuse me. But I make sure to steer clear from the unclear and go for people who are as straightforward and as sure as I am. 

When I was in Delft, I had two pretty close guy friends. The first one is an Estonian guy who belonged to my orientation group. We were the only two people from the same program, there were no other Estonian in the class, and he was very friendly. He looked so much like a typical Russian guy with pale blonde hair and light blue eyes, with big muscly body like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. We studied together several times, and we worked on some assignments in the same group. He was just super friendly. I made sure that I kept my distance, and I remembered a particular chunk of his WhatsApp messages where he said that he was so grateful to have me as a friend in the class. 

And that’s one way on how you draw a line. 

The second guy, I can say that he is the closest foreigner I have as a friend. A very, very close one. He knew some stories I never shared with anyone, and we talked about so many things. He showed me his drafts of personal essays (which were similarly written like a telenovela). Sent me videos of his playing the guitar (unfortunately he does not have the voice). Asked me out to ramen joints. He invited me over for multiple lunch, dinner, and even to his baptism (me with probably 6+ people from our class). In some of the occasions, I also met with his friends and cousins (and also his then girlfriend). I also kept my distance with him - I almost never send a message to him first. But I must admit that I was confused, many times. But I shrugged things off and normalize them in my head - after all he is an Italian-Venezuelan with starkly different culture and courtesies compared to my eastern background. I took everything at face value, telling myself that that is how he treats people. I invited him over to our Eid al Adha feast. 

But in our chats, both on WhatsApp and in real life, he always refer to me as a ‘friend’. Pretty much like how an Australian would end their messages with ‘mate’. I enjoyed the friendship that we had in Delft. Partly because I enjoyed having him cook for me, and partly because I enjoyed being able to discuss about what we discussed. From our shared experience as a citizen from a third world country, to our thoughts on Kurzgesagt or Alain de Botton or Jiddu Krishnamurti or Doug Stanhope or Sam Morril or Jordan Peterson. So whenever he invited me over, or ask me out, I would cling to the word ‘friend’ and rolled with whatever he offered. He would still send me a message every once in a while. Last year he called me right after he broke up with his girlfriend (this guy go from one relationship to the next like no other). 

And there was also another guy friend from the same class. He was a muslim Indian so I was even more careful with how we interact. Unlike my two other friends, for which our cultural and religious difference might be enough to keep the relationship normal, this other guy differs slightly. At first I didn’t even realize that he was a muslim (my being a pretty stereotyping girl, I thought all Indians are Hindus), but he would first ask about islamic community (I thought he was just curious). And he sent some messages to discuss about Ramadan. And there was this one time he asked me out on lunch. He started talking about being a muslim in India, about Kashmir (which was actually a very interesting topic), and other things. But I was uncomfortable and when we parted I told him that I had a boyfriend (fact), that I would be fine with talking over WhatsApp but in case he has plans on inviting me over for lunch, I would say no. 

I knew that his interest for me was unconfirmed but I did not want to take any risk. I’d rather be viewed as someone who is ‘kegeeran’ rather than to led people on and giving them mixed signals. (What is a right translation for the term ‘kegeeran’, anyway?)

For other people, when I felt like their advances might lead somewhere out of the ‘friends’ zone, one of my many moves is to start telling them about the people I have a crush on. And send them updates on a regular basis. Tee-hee.

Well, anyway. Conclusion: Lines are helpful.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley I

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower’s shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

Chapter One: Hatred & Pride

“Lilies are considered a beautiful, popular flower but the orange variations actually symbolize hatred, pride, and disdain.”

Release Date: 05/18/20 @ 7 pm

next

 YN stumbled haphazardly into her apartment, as she tried to kick off heels and steer her way into her apartment's small bathroom. In her hand lay a crumpled up business card that scorched her skin, yet she couldn't let go of it. As she reached the bathroom, she flickered the yellow lighting on and stared at herself in the dirty mirror. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged making her resemble a panda, a frown etched between her brows, and colored lips turned downward. It was not her wretched appearance that had her sorrowful, but rather the bite that was visible right where her neck met her shoulder. It looked fresh, harsh red marks that displayed to the world that she was taken. "What a fucking lie."

She took off her makeup and jumped into the shower scrubbing off every trace she could of the alpha. Not wanting his scent permeating on her body any longer, then it would truly prove people's perception of her to be true. A small ding as she was exiting the shower alerted her towards her phone.

           Mark Lee: Sorry about how I acted. I just don't understand, but I don't think we should see each other anymore.

"Great," YN grumbled. There went another one that she'd managed to drive away. It would be a lot easier if she could simply date someone like her - not that it would ever be allowed. Still, there would be less judgment and she wouldn't have to feel like a let down to society or her family every time a holiday passed and she failed to present with a mate. "Fuck society." Though truly it was more like fuck Jeon Jungkook. None of this would've happened if it weren't for the alpha and his hormones. Truly none of this would've happened if his mates kept a tighter grip on the newly presenting alpha, but she couldn't blame the others for his mistake.

           On second thought, fuck them all. Why the fuck are sub-genders a thing anyway? This wasn't the first time said thoughts had filled her head. Presenting as an Omega in a family full of beta's had been difficult, not to mention the events that followed afterward. YN dragged her feet into her bed, thankful for once that she lived in such a small apartment that things were never so far apart. Though her current apartment was about the size of the kitchen in her parent's home, she couldn't complain. Few people rented unmated omegas. She was lucky that her landladies were two female betas with small children. YN doesn’t have anything against alphas but she’s aware enough to know how they perceive her: a means to an end rather than a human being. Or half of one at the very least.

           Her cell phone screen lit up again, but YN was far too tired to check it. Until it stayed on as a plethora of messages appeared. Rolling her eyes, YN grabbed her phone and unlocked it planning to send to hell whoever sent so many messages this late at night.

           Unknown: Please consider it.

           Unknown: I know you blame me for a lot of things and it is my fault, but I’d like to fix things.

           Unknown: or help at the very least.

           Unknown: Please just answer me.

           Unknown: I’m very sorry. You know I am. It was a mistake, I was presenting and couldn’t control myself. Please YN.

           Unknown: You’re my mate.

YN slammed her phone down on her bed with tears in her eyes. She regretted ever going on the date tonight, regretted ever meeting Jungkook, regretted presenting as an Omega. YN regretted being alive. She knew others felt the same way, she'd seen the look in her father's eyes when he had gone to the police station. None of this would've ever happened if she were a beta. YN would be able to get a good education, a good job, a decent place to live. She wouldn't be treated like a third-class citizen because of her sub-gender - she would just be YN. The way she'd been in school before all this happened. The way she spent seventeen years of her life living. Sobs racked throughout her body and she bit into her arm to keep the sound from reaching her neighbors. She didn't want to get into any more trouble tonight.  

           Exhaustion eventually won over and YN slipped into a restless sleep, plagued by the events of her past and the ones that occurred a few hours earlier.

          “So there was nothing you did in high school? No clubs or anything like that?”

YN shook her head, shrugging slightly. "I helped some teachers, dabbled in a couple of things but wasn't like the head cheerleader or class president." Tentatively she reached for her drink, making sure Mark didn't notice her smelling it for anything. It wasn't that he wasn't nice, but one could never be too careful. Mark laughed, "Alright you got me there, but I'll let you know the only reason I became class president is that I promised I'd get us a pool."

           “How did that work out?”

           “Terrible. The school was convinced our stupid asses would drown or something. Can’t say it wasn’t true.”

           YN giggled, taking another bite of her food. Mark was cute and he seemed aware of things, enough to not try too hard. He hadn’t asked to pick her up or asked about exes, he’d agreed to meet at the restaurant and even arrived early. Then again it might also be because they have a friend in between and it was Rosé who’d set them up together. “So YN what school did you go to?” Mark leaned forward resting his face in his hands. The warm lighting in the restaurant cast a nice glow on his features, it made him look more attractive. Or perhaps the alcohol had finally set in.

           “I went to Yeong-gwang Academy.” As soon as YN uttered the name Mark’s eyes widened exponentially. “No way, I’ve heard about that school. Isn’t it like a rich kid central or something? Wait didn’t you go to school with the Kims?!” It was an involuntary reaction the way she shivered whenever she heard that name, but her date must not have noticed. He stood waiting for her confirmation and all it took was a curt nod, for the man to begin rambling about all the rumors he’d heard over the years. It was difficult to keep up with them all, but she did manage to correct a few.

           “Haven’t you guys been ranked number one school in Korea for like thirty years or something?”

           “I think it’s only twenty.”

           “I heard all your sports teams are national champions.”

           “We only really had like five or so.”

           “Don’t you have the largest private collection of flowers in Asia?!”

           “Um, it’s Lilies and I think that’s an exaggeration.”

On and on it went, YN was now beginning to regret opening her mouth. She'd heard of Academy fans before, but it was mainly people who wanted to go there and couldn't or alumni. The way Mark spoke about it made her seem like she was an olympiad or a part of history. The date was drawing to an end, YN couldn't help but feel disappointed but it could have gone worse. Mark could have seen her mark and it would've caused conflict, hearing the boy ramble about her school was the lesser of the two evils.  

           It was when YN lifted her drink to her lips that she sensed it. A hint of musk and the smell of fresh linen, she couldn’t explain how she knew it was him. It was almost instinctual the fear that spread throughout her. As discreetly as she could, YN cast a glance around the room trying to find him almost exhaling with relief when she didn’t. It’s probably a mistake.

           “Hey isn’t that Kim Jungkook right there?”

It was said a little too loudly, just enough that YN knew he'd heard it. It didn't take long for her to feel eyes peering at her, goosebumps rose through her arms. Her bite began to throb and YN could feel her heart skip a beat. Mark's eyes focused on him and eventually crawled up, letting her know the alpha was approaching. Now the scent hit her entirely, shaking her to her core. YN gripped the table to steady herself but found that near impossible when the alpha kept sending his pheromones at her.  

"Does there seem to be a problem here?" His voice had deepened over the years, no longer the voice of a teenager but that of a man.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to call your name so loudly. Um, I'm Mark Lee. A pleasure to meet you." Mark turned his attention towards YN expecting her to acknowledge Jungkook or greet him as a classmate. YN couldn't. She couldn't look at him. It didn't help that there was a tense atmosphere between the two, the tension was palpable and it seemed Mark had enough.

           “Aren’t you going to greet him, YN?”

           Greet the man responsible for everything wrong in my life, sure. Yn’s eyes trailed upwards from the table to Jungkook’s face until her warm eyes met his golden ones. As YN parted her lips to speak, she felt it: the heat spreading throughout her body. An uncontrollable feeling that raked throughout her body. The fucker was trying to trigger a pseudo-heat. Instantly YN’s grip tightened on the table, her fingertips becoming white as she fought with nature to keep control over herself.

           “Do you two know each other?” It seems Mark was catching on and truly she couldn’t blame him if he misunderstood. She would too if the roles were reversed. Suddenly Jungkook turned to face Mark, holding his hand out to greet him.

           “I’m Kim Jungkook, her mate.”

"What?! No, he isn't. Don't listen to him, Mark." Her outcry had caused quite a few patrons to turn her way, now all paying close attention to what was happening.

"Uh -" Jungkook quickly interceded whatever Mark was going to say. "Did you not notice her mark? Or do you make a habit of seeking mated people?" At this a few people gasped, Mark looked between the two of them confused. YN snapped, "It's a partial bond. It was never completed so it doesn't mean anything." Her words only confused Mark even more. Whispers from surrounding tables began to reach her ears and it only fueled YN's rage more. This was all a big misunderstanding, but Jungkook was thriving off it. Mark and YN's eyes met as she silently pleaded with him to listen to her.

"Hey beta," Jungkook snapped his fingers together, "look at me." YN should've known she'd lost then and there. As a beta, it was impossible to resist the order of alpha, not to mention one that exuded the stench that Jungkook did.

           “You know who I am right?” Mark nodded, eyes wide as if aiming to please. “Then you know don’t you? You know…” When Mark looked back at her, there was sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry YN.” was all the beta said before standing up and walking away. YN had so many things to say, so many more explanations, but they all died in her tongue.

           Jungkook tsked, “What an asshole. Could’ve at least paid for the meal.” That was the final strand for YN, she gathered her stuff and threw all the money she had down on the table. Walking fast out of the restaurant trying to avoid the judgemental stares directed towards her, she swore some people hissed at her under their breaths. Once outside YN leaned against the side entrance of the restaurant trying to steady her breath and stop the incoming tears.

"YN. Hey!" Jungkook raced out the front, staring around panicked until his gaze landed on her. YN tried to walk away, but his long legs gave him an advantage and he reached her in a few steps. "Please YN. I'm sorry, I just- I couldn't control myself." YN rolled her eyes, trying to push the alpha aside.  

           “No please YN look.” His hands gripped her forearms and tugged her close to him. “I’ve been trying to find you, we’ve been trying to find you. But you disappeared off the map.”

           “That’s because of you. I left because of you.” YN tried to get him to release her arms, but his hold was too tight. “Wasn’t it enough for you? Isn’t it enough for you? You ruined my life and my reputation Jungkook. The least you could do is leave me alone.” She was begging at this point, trying to make him see reason.

           “I can’t leave you alone, YN. You’re my mate.”

           “You already have mates Jungkook. Fucking six of them! How could you want more?!”

           “It isn’t like that and you know it. You’re all our mates. You're the pack omega, you just don’t see it yet.”

           This wasn’t the first time Jungkook had tried to excuse his behavior by using the pack bond. Yes, it was true all seven of them shared it but that didn’t mean she did too. “Omega’s don’t have the pack bond, Jungkook. Stop trying to lie.” YN couldn’t see what he gained from this.

           “I’m not lying. It’s rare but it happens, please if you just speak to Namjoon you’ll see-”

           “Leave me alone Jungkook.” YN mustered all her strength and managed to finally push him off. The alpha looked shocked at her display of aggression, YN strongly desired to hit him but knew it wouldn’t end well if she triggered his instincts. “I’d rather die alone than be mated to you.” YN could see the spear driven through the boy’s heart because she felt something similar go through hers. YN let out a shaky breath, she leaned over resting on her knees for fear of falling over.

"I get it. I'm sorry, I ruined your date. I embarrassed you in front of all those people and that wasn't right. I'm sorry YN, I truly am. For everything, I've ever done to you. But it doesn't change the truth. You know this isn't something I can lie about: you are my mate. Our mate."

YN groaned and went to walk away, knowing that there wouldn't be an end to Jungkook's madness. As she walked past the shaken alpha, he grasped her hand placing something in it. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate, please." YN didn't even spare him a look as she walked away. It wasn't until she could no longer smell him that YN broke down, her body shaking as she tried to hold it all in. She was still in a public place and a vulnerable omega might draw unwanted attention. YN took a deep breath and steadied herself. Heading straight to her apartment and refusing to look back.

           A loud abrupt ringing awoke YN from her sleep, she jumped so high she practically touched the ceiling. Grabbing the phone, she saw Rosé’s contact picture pop-up on the screen. It was rare for her to call, especially since it was nearly six a.m.

           “Hey.”

           “YN? Oh my god.” Rosé’s tone was panicked and YN could hear the way she panted. “Someone broke into my apartment while I was sleeping.”

           “What?! Are you alright?!” YN jumped out of bed and raced to put on pants and hoodie, before grabbing her keys and wallet. “Where are you?”

           “I’m at the police station. I couldn’t see very clearly, but they’re looking at security cam footage from around the area to figure out who it is.”

           “I’m on my way. Did you call Lucas?” Lucas was Rosé’s foster sibling, his husband worked in the police and was certain to make the whole process smoother.

           Rosé hesitated, “He isn't answering. Please come, I’m here alone and I-”

           “It’s alright I’ll be there soon I promise.” YN had managed to wave down a cab and told him to drive as quickly as he could.

The sight of her best friend in tears triggered something innate in YN. She pulled Rosé into a hug and refused to let her go, terrified at the thought of what could have happened to her friend. "It's alright, I'm here." Rosé dug her head into YN's neck using her scent to calm her nerves and trying to muffle her cries. Already she could feel the sympathetic stares of some of the officers. Out of the corner of her eye, YN saw someone approaching his bloodshot eyes, and the tall way in which he stood made it seem like he owned the place.

"I told you to call your mate, not your girlfriend." He remarked voice dull yet mocking. Rosé stepped away from YN turning towards him, "I don't have a mate and my brother isn't answering." Her tone was meek and eyes were downcast, YN knew she wasn't a confrontational person and this event likely further caused her to become more introverted. The cop rolled his eyes, "Where is your mate then?" He turned his attention towards YN, now she could see the name inscribed on his uniform: Officer Hwang. "I don't have one." Her tone was too blunt, YN knew she could see the way his eyebrows raised at it.

           “Don’t lie to me, I can see your mark.”

           “I don’t have a mate.”

Annoyance was now visible in Hwang's tone before his eyes widened. "Ah, now I get it." The officer turned back towards one of his colleagues and called out, "Bo, it seems we have a cat house on our hands." Rosé's eyes widened and YN spoke quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth. "No. You're misunderstanding." Bo had already stood up from his desk and was making his way towards them.  

           “Ladies if you could please follow me.”

The two of them were talking over each other trying to explain the situation, but the officers had made up their minds about what was occurring. YN cast a glance around the room trying to find anyone who could help them, but everyone kept their eyes downward. They'd been titled as prostitutes and it would be difficult to change people's minds. Officer Bo guided them, pushed would've been a better term, towards the basement where the holding cells were.

           “Please sir, you’ve misunderstood.”

           Officer Hwang shrugged, a cruel smirk on his face. “Call your alpha then and everything will be solved.” YN resigned herself as they were dragged downstairs and locked up.

Rosé and YN were separated in different cells while a guard stood watching. Tears streamed endlessly down her best friend's face, whilst YN told herself that hers were tears of frustration rather than humiliation at everything that had occurred tonight. Eventually, as they hit the two-hour mark the guard spoke up, "I'd call your mates if I were you. The boarding house bus swing's by at nine." Both omegas stilled in fear at his words. YN turned towards Rosé, "Ro can't you try your brother?" She was pleading with her friend, but Rosé shook her head. "He won't come." There was something she wasn't telling her, but YN figured now was not the moment to press it.

           “Don’t you know someone who can help YN? What about Mark?”

Mark would be no help, considering everything that went down at the date it would be a further embarrassment to ask him to come to pick her up at the station. If he even answered that is. Unless? No, there was no way. Her pride wouldn’t be able to take it.

            "Thirty minutes, girls."

It seemed as if fate was pushing her into a corner. YN had heard about what kind of things occurred to Omega's who were taken to the boarding house, it was not a nice place. It certainly didn't provide the comfort or protection that was promised to unmated troubled omegas. Hesitantly YN cleared her throat, "Can I please make a call?"

~ Please lmk if you would like to be added to the tag list. Thank you

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 76

“There is nothing I support more than mothers caring for their children. Our Democracy is built on the combined efforts of our mothers. Baroness Bunny Pear Howlett swore before God and the world to joyously welcome every life she will be given the gift of bringing into this world and raise them in a God fearing home. I will never oppose her honoring that vow and raising more citizens of this fine country and our neighbor to the North, Canada. We have no right to lay our opinion higher in respect than that vow and her responsibility to love and cherish the precious gift those children are. That is all I have to say on the matter.” The words were a bullet to the head of any try to shoot down a try to erase your achievements for the simple stolen glimpse of your cleavage exposed to the world.

On the cusp of speechless Truman had called you and had wanted to see where you stood on the issue. All you had tried to do to mend the issue led to his argument in support of said efforts no matter what his personal thoughts of showing nursing mothers on the front page. In truth you were clearly as blown over by the story and after calls from the Brocks and even Father Thomas, who offered words of support agreeing that it was a beautiful intruded upon moment and any effort you could use to support any other struggling mothers should be acted upon.

It seemed that this would blow over and papers dug back to what they knew, it was a beautiful moment, because you didn’t have very many of those left and James was supportive to not blemish the legacy of his daughters’ mother for them to grow up aspiring to. Even Mr Yarbrough had to admit it was a bit amusing for how people had gone to such extremes in this matter and calmed after to at least a dull roar. And was all the more pleased as he sat grading your latest assignments while you sat for the exams in History, Geography and Religion to see that the issue had not thrown you off of your school work.

.

“Is that me?” Loki asked in his stroll into the sun lit room that had a few easels propped up and drying. From the easel you turned lowering your paint brush having painted a portrait of Loki lounged on one of your armchairs with a bouquet of fireworks hovering above his palm. “It is almost lifelike.”

“Took me a while to get the fingers right, I think I might have made Beau and Jeff’s arms go numb in letting me stare at their hands.”

Lowly he chuckled and stated, “It is masterfully done. I am flattered, thank you.” He stepped to the other easels noting the portrait of James and Victor both seated in armchairs in front of the fireplace with their children from their first marriages, Xander on the arm of his father’s chair and Victor’s children on his lap. A portrait now that they had their younger daughters would grant some proof of their elder siblings for them to grow up with that the men treasured and readied a nail in a special place to hang it when it was properly dried and framed. “This one is beautiful, more relatives?”

You caught his eye answering, “That is Xander, James’ son from his first marriage and Victor with his daughter and his son from his first marriage.” Loki’s eyes swept over your face taking in the hint of sadness in your expression. “They’re all buried in the family graveyard on these lands with their mothers. We talked about when Leanora was born having some sort of portrait for the girls to know what their older siblings looked like. The guys asked it just be the kids, didn’t want to have me and Jeanie having to peer up at our predecessors.”

“You have done them justice. Our grandfather does not have as skilled a portrait executed with such love in it.”

“They’re beautiful babies. Almost makes me wish there was easier access to cameras back then to have given them more to hold onto. Part of why they have taken trunks of pictures since we’ve met I bet. Deep down they’re making notes to hold onto for when they imagine they will have to bury me.” Loki chortled and you said, “They’re going to be so disappointed when we have to build a new house for the pictures we’ve accumulated by the time I hit a century and have still refused to die.”

“I doubt disappointment would cross their minds in reaching the first century mark on your second lifetime.” His eyes traveled to the third couple portrait that could be hung separately or together of a trio of people seated for tea, “And these?”

“Friends, Howard Stark and Ana and Edwin Jarvis. They chose some cribs for the girls for our Brooklyn home and I’m terrible at picking gifts for them. Howard is very rich and I believe Ana and Jarvis have all they could want already.”

“A gift of this caliber would be treasured.”

“What do you do for fun?” You asked making him grin at you as you finished a detail on the edges of his finely draped velvet cape down the front of the leg of his chair of a charming bit of speckled fur that he now dearly ached to have one just like it.

“I have taken up glass blowing recently. Quite agitating at first, however I am told that I am improving, perhaps a different view point of a Master Smith could see my efforts is helpful in such a discovery.”

“I could imagine burning myself rather frequently in that hobby.” You said making him chuckle again.

“The heat is rather a fickle aspect of the hobby. Remaining hydrated is key, a pitcher of water is always nearby in case of overheating.”

“Loki, welcome back,” James said carrying two of his girls with the third in a sling he fashioned across his chest. “I’ve found a way to grow another arm.” He said making the Prince chuckle again. “You are just in time for lunch, Sarah made some lemon squares, don’t know what’s in them but you look up for an adventure.”

“That I am.” He said smiling in the excited coo of the girls who saw him when he came closer. “Their curls are coming in nicely. A very good sign for healthy childhoods for my people full head of hair early on.”

“Yes, dad said I had a full head of curls by my first month too.” Drying the brush you rinsed off with a half damp and paint stained rag you left on the table to say, “Should be time to pump again, before they get fussy on you.”

“They would never,” James teased as you came closer kissing the trio on their heads and raised palms to lead the duo to the sitting room in your wing.

As the pump worked underneath your bra and t shirt against your bent legs you gave each of the girls some personal time while Victor lounged with his Petal reading her a story to Teddy and Loki’s artistic battle in making their own castles out of the hoard of colorful blocks while Marigold stretched for a nap across the Prince’s lap. The phone ringing turned your head and with a stretch of your fingers the phone floated closer so you could lift the receiver, “Hello, Howlett Pear, Creed residence.”

“Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth is calling for the Baroness,” an aid spoke through the line in a cool crisp tone.

“Oh, of course, I’ll hold for her Majesty.”

“Just a moment, Baroness.”

The line switched and her voice came through the line, “Bunny, how are you this morning? We have gotten a copy of Mother magazine it was quite a masterful spin on the hassle at hand.”

“Thank you, and we’re all doing well here.”

“And your classes are going well, the papers have all stated that your grades are pristine top marks.”

“Classes are going well, still tutors at home twice a week until next Tuesday when I start on campus.”

“We all certainly hope that you will be treated with ample respect.”

“I will be, everyone is very respectful up here. If I can how is Princess Elizabeth’s pregnancy going?”

“Swimmingly, the first trimester was rough but on her way to the third she is very strong. Thank you for asking. She has been very happy to hear that things are lightening up for you. Have your girls gained any more weight?”

Questions continued as more information was shared and eventually she had to hang up and see to other matters leaving you to return to focus on your family and keeping Teddy and Marigold from Lording over the Prince more than he could handle for as long as he could.

“We finished another bundle of the Spain trunk, did you want to give it a look?” Jeff asked and after a moment to register what he meant from the mindset of playing you gave him a nod.

“Sure, where would we have to go?”

Beau smiled saying, “The directory is in the sitting room by our room. Not far of a walk.”

Once on your feet with the whole group including the children, the elder three watched the brothers guide you to the sitting room with a bronze fountain shaped like a tree with layered branches topped with groupings of bronze leaves layered with crystal leaves settled inside of a bronze basin filled with pebbles shaped from crystals. “I’ve seen this before,”

Beau stated with a smile, “Not uncommon a reaction for the first return to using it.”

In your step closer Loki took notice of the familiar structure to the one back on the abandoned Beserker territory on Asgard that with a lift of your palm had the top of the fountain light up and release a fine mist that in the more it pooled out into the room and darkening as it did. Similar to your galaxy mist in silvery blue it chose a more silver and pink tinted hue with soft hints of cheerful chimes from the creatures who dwelled inside of it that let out in recognition of who was tapping into the hive minded database.

Jeff to the list of runes that hovered in front of your raised palm stated, “We should start here,” and showed you the meaning of the runes. “This shares the translations both in written word, spoken and in reenactments. And we can show by means of the map that will show exactly where it took place and when.”

Up to your lap when you took a seat for the replay of your history you took hold of one of your girls with James at your side treasuring the tales while holding his other two daughters while they napped. Perfectly content in knowledge of the path that helped to lead you three here to this coveted moment. Both of the brothers however took enjoyment in the end of the translated bits to hear what had been learned on their own travels before this lifetime. All of it a road map to now with details that even stunned Loki, including in his trips to Norway as a child that you had been there, a fact that stunned not just himself but his mother when he returned and as usual gave her an update on how things with your family were going.

That tv of yours however had Frigga on the visit before gather up a collection of books from their own schools for children to help advance your knowledge even more as she had grown to see how unfair it was to keep you from copies on such an ignorant planet compared to their own. Materials would be far from accessible to you but at least in time until your full power had awoken she might be taken as an ally in hastening the growth of your ever hungry intellect that scoured for more. Even she could sense that the gap in knowledge was hindering your return and when she approached Himdall his grin eased out along with his palms to accept the books bound together in a leather set of straps.

“Heimdall, kindly gift these to Mother.”

He bowed his head, “I shall, and she will be ever grateful for the gift.” She nodded and timidly turned to head back to the doorway she would transport herself back into the Palace. However she paused and looked back at him when he said, “Mother bears you no ill will, Queen Frigga. The decisions of Odin and his father long ago shall not bear down upon you or your sons and people. These books will help greatly to improve her capabilities to effect change upon Midgard as she always had. You have no reason to fear her growth in the coming years, in fact a friendship should very well grow if you would welcome it. For now, I shall deliver your gift.” There was no time for an answer as in a galaxy colored mist his body vanished to appear at the doorway of your library in a final touch up of readying the table for your tutoring the following day.

A gentle knock on the door had you look up to find Heimdall there who bowed his head and approached as you greeted him, “Heimdall, you can come in. Hope it’s nothing serious to bring you out here to our little planet.”

In a shake of his head he lifted the books on his palms stating, “Not at all, Queen Frigga sent me with these for you,”

When he came closer his eyes adoringly shifted over your girls, namely Nova in your arms who let out an excited squeal that had you and everyone around you chuckle, “Our girls have learned they can be very loud.”

“A joyful greeting, I am honored.” He said lowering the books onto the table that your fingertips smoothed across the leather bound cover of the top textbook larger than a phone book with runes you couldn’t read across the cover.

“Are these in your language from Asgard?” you asked and he nodded offering his hand to the girl who wiggled her fingers his way that wrapped around his fingers in a cross eyed awed stare.

“Yes, Ancient Asgardian.”

Elliot spoke next, “I have some ledgers that we can help teach you from when you are ready.”

And your father said next, “Those books can be quite dense at times, best to take it gradually and we will explain the lessons thoroughly as they tend to build upon the prior lessons as you work your way through in several of their subjects.”

When you looked to Heimdall you said, “I thought Asgard was afraid of me. Why would Queen Frigga give me these?”

“With aid of our Brothers in time you would have learned of these some day, Prince Loki has shared the difficulties of education here and its limits so far with Queen Frigga. Our lessons to what you are learning now would have you equal to a child’s lessons on Asgard. That is unfair, and in the coming years a great deal more to gift you would be helpful for what you might face.”

“I suppose it might help, every now and then there’s mention of the ship headed this way. Can’t help but think if they know so much more that I might be taken as an ignorant fool far below what they expected when they get here.”

Heimdall gave you a comforting grin, “This physical form of yours is merely a piece of a far more breathtaking whole. Mother is with us, always, and while you come to remember that path is all the more beautiful. Midgard is far beyond what we are accustomed, your travels and time here will gift them knowledge in their own ignorance. There is no need to fear, love is patience and trust, together we will learn and grow.”

“Thank you,” you said as Nova released his hand, “And please tell Queen Frigga thank you.”

“I am certain in time we will add a good deal more to your library and when our Brothers will arrive they will have possession of a supply of the records of our people for you to explore as well.”

He bid you and your family a farewell and Elliot called the journal he added to the books he moved to a nearby shelf to be looked over when you were ready so that the dinner your stomachs demanded could be finished and enjoyed.

.

Across the top of your bed James laid with view of his girls in their squirms calming down to the bedtime story he was reading to them to lull them off to sleep. They had no clue what he was saying but to every stolen kiss or nuzzle of his face against their little selves savoring their scents and tries to keep hold of his head and hands. He absolutely loved these moments and didn’t even look up when you snapped pictures of them as he loved to do when you stole your own time cuddling with the trio. The roll of film was filled and you sighed taking the camera to its usual spot on a table outside the dark room where Victor would see it and in the usual pattern develop the film to give to you later.

Along with his own pictures and those from Dawn and Eddie he savored his time in that dark room surrounded by loving moments with his ever growing family. Proud more and more on the echoes of giggles and racing tiny feet through the manor that had sat empty for so long. Stone and earth held memory and even this place in its neglect since that flood bore a depression much like their own and now seemed to glow all its own glee for the souls now claiming shelter inside its refurbished borders.

Film was bought by the barrel on top of your gifted supply it seemed and a welcome expense to have permanent copies of the gradual growth of every child and the woman he loved who had gifted him his own. Always a bit of doubt lingered he might not be the right choice as a husband but as a father he knew she treasured him for that and wouldn’t have picked another to share this with. Mixed within the pictures of the girls was one of yourself. Normally quite casual the moments James wanted to keep were tame, this one had you in just your underwear, perhaps in a try to lure a more adventurous night when he was in a late shower or changing.

Spread across the bed slumped back comfortably from an alluring pose on your side with curls sprawled about your face that widened his smile. It wasn’t just the moment he’d stumbled across to lure an intrusion but much like the photograph of James on your honeymoon the dance of flame and shadow across your skin had turned this stolen moment into art. Show of his adoration for you and a try to begin again what you formerly had to have him stumble into a far more intimate moment. He knew what his brother felt, pure love and awe at the strong force of a woman who put to test the meaning of labor to birth the girls who looked more like you by the day. A couple more weeks and far from that time in London when you walked out in the underwear gifted to you to see if it was correctly draped across your starved frame now he could see their efforts to coat you with leisurely weight to suit daily energy requirements and to signal you were well fed.

He left it to dry and carried on until he saw the image of the tiny hands tangled in James’ hair and arms holding his head down at his bend to their whim he could but wouldn’t break no matter how easily he could. Every image was left hung to dry to be handed over later and sorted to be added to the collection of others on his way to finish readying for the day trip ahead to go and visit Norma on set as you’d been promised a trip to do so and see how your project was coming about.

.

Economics, Government, Political science, Anthropology tests and an afternoon trip to town that ended with a rainy drive back home for an early night to cuddle in bed for the drive and flight in the morning. Norma still was on set but now that you had settled a suitable schedule for feedings the brothers zapped you all closer to the airport where Howard’s plane waited to fly you all out to the location that he was filming in today. To keep your girls safe they would remain at home and not even Leonora would be coming at Norma’s request knowing how much press was around to keep her safe from being plastered around the world more than she could manage.

Ample milk had been stored and your parents gladly took charge with Edie of the children while Elliot and the twins delved more into translations of those documents as they had daily to make use of the summer while they had it. Eddie stayed with you as you parked and the stroll over to the waiting plane while Dawn took Teddy and Marigold to her family’s home to get more work done on their paper.

“Bunny, glad to see you, today should be fun.” Howard said when he came close post stroll out of his plane from final checks.

“I’m sure it will be.” Victor said carrying the bag with the paintings in it turning Howard’s head to them.

James said, “Brought you something, Bunny made them.”

Howard said, “You didn’t have to make me anything, not even my birthday.”

“Well consider it payback for the cribs and filming my story.”

“Ooh, now I’m really curious.” He said with a smirk following you inside the plane he sealed the steps to get to his seat saying, “You can sit up front if you like, Bunny.”

Jarvis who was securing your bags gave you a nod and watched you timidly join Howard up at the cockpit to ease down onto the co-pilot seat in the Douglas DC-3 that had you tuck your legs up to sit on to be able to see over the nose of the plane. Howard chuckled saying, “I will be sure to pack a few phone books next time.”

“It’s alright, have to use them for our truck too. Nothing new, I live in the land of giants.” You said making him smirk.

He began to flip switches and start up the plane explaining what he was doing all through the roll to the runway and lift off until you were in the air. “Maybe one day I could give you some lessons. You know the time I flew Steve into enemy lines to rescue Bucky was on one of these. You been in a few in the service I bet.”

“Couple, only it’s a bit odd without the gunfire.”

After another glance your way he asked, “You still doing well? You look well fed a bit more than last time.”

“Still good, first time so far from the girls, but I suppose I have to get used to that for what class on campus start next week.”

“If I can say, we’re all proud of how you handled that press with your magazine spread. Masterful, downright masterful on the shift of it. Everyone on set agreed. You should have never had to face that but you handled it well. Hate that you have to, press can be vultures, but I imagined they had standards.”

“All spilled milk at this point.” After a moment you asked, “Would it be rude to ask if you have another Mrs Stark on the horizon to anger someone else’s dad?”

That had him chuckle again, “Not yet. Always up to help a woman out of a sticky situation if I can help it.”

.

While others were setting up things for the first scene and gathering the cast that gradually was getting ready your focus turned to Ana Jarvis who came into view with a wrapped bundle laid against her chest. The heartbeat inside had your smile widen and you asked, “Now where did you find this angel?” Widening her smile.

“This is our daughter, Celeste. Last year we found out we could not have children, but there was an orphanage back in New York who called us, a young mother could not provide for her child and put her up for adoption. She is beautiful and has orange hair and eyes like Edwin’s.” She said on the verge of tearing up for how fated the move turned out to be.

“Congratulations,” you said to the both of them and from the bag Victor handed you to bring out the portrait of the couple parting their lips. “If I would have known I’d have added her. A sort of thank you, for the cribs and being so kind.”

Ana said, “Oh thank you,” she said using her free arm to give you a hug that when she ended she turned to look at it again, “It is beautiful, did you paint it?”

“Yes, I have one for Howard too.”

“You have what for Howard?” He asked with a smirk on his path back on his way to check something else only to gape at the portrait and the one of him you offered him. “Bunny, I love it, thank you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hang them together or separately, however you liked.”

Howard smiled and said in collecting the both of them, “I’m going to put these somewhere safe until we get the clear to head home later, be back in a few, get comfortable.”

Sure enough like a magnet in the silent nightclub of a set to the piano as the guys took in the artwork and other details soft notes filled the air. Just a few random notes bled into a familiar tune. One that would frequent the radio station Steve tuned into at night when he thought everyone else was asleep. Without thought your fingers continued in their dance across the keys without comment until murmurs could be heard from outside the set, “Did they hire another band?”

Another said, “We aren’t even late!”

“We got a contract! They can’t do this!”

Sight of you however in a blue off the shoulder lace dress with a knee visible under the hem of the skirt on the bench had the band that you had met years prior at the White House dinner after receiving your medals. Jarvis with a grin eased into his usual fix it mode and clarified you were merely passing time. Your notice of the band as they approached had you grin and ease off the bench, “Hello.”

“Baroness Pear Howlett,” they each said offering their hands you shook then looked to their horn player who said, “We have to do a sound check and warm up before the scenes, care to play with us?”

“Don’t you need the piano?” you asked and they chuckled.

Their piano player said, “I am good on a dime, if you don’t mind that is.”

Without anything else to do again the song ‘Into Every Life A Little Rain Must Fall’ recorded by The Ink Spots and Ella Fitzgerald was what you began with after they named the tune you had been tapping out. A nod from you had the pianist sit beside you on the spacious bench ready to help you liven up the tune to give a wider range for the others to jump into. Hushed giggles and conversation on ways to shift the tune made for a smile worthy sight when Norma hurried onto set to claim a hug and kiss from Victor and cuddled with him as the other actors bled into sight to fill the seating and standing room.

Shirley Temple and her mom beside Howard’s side had him smirk at Shirley’s soft gasp and comment to her mother, “Momma, it’s really Bunny Pear,” clinging to a magazine spread on you from when you had been featured in Kodak’s magazine.

Howard’s arrival had you and the guys stop playing luring a grin from you for a slip away to his side where he said, “Aren’t you just a treasure trove of talents. Guess your Priest wasn’t kidding about those times you snuck in to play the piano.”

“Well you can blame Steve and Bucky. One would get sick or hurt and they’d play the radio or their few records all night.”

“A rude habit that comes in handy, Bunny, come meet Shirley,”

The teen’s wide smile and flash of the magazine had you smile as she said, “I always cut out stories on you.”

“Well I hope last year’s stories didn’t upset you, papers had some fun with the whole frog debacle.”

“I just knew it wasn’t true,” and she asked, “Could you sign my magazine?”

You smirked and accepted the pocket journal and pen James handed you from your purse widening her grin, “Only if you sign my book too.” She gladly agreed and you traded then traded back and the conversations and introductions continued through the rest of the main cast. Beginning with Lawrence Olivier and Vivien Leigh who proudly signed your book trading for a signature of their own to comments on favorite films as Cary Grant shyly traded his own set for yours before a group picture one of the extras gladly took on your camera James remembered to grab.

Howard however stunned you by placing your family in the crowd and had you up again at the piano for the stunning addition for the background music bits of dialog for a few takes of those scenes. However when it came time to have the band perform fully you, for giggles as Howard suggested with the band’s blessing you helped to sing along as they played, ‘If I Didn’t Care’ also by The Ink Spots. With minimal conversation between the leading men that took two takes after you had excused yourself to join the men in the audience. When the lighting and wardrobe was being shifted to move to a different scene earlier in the film for two more of the band’s own songs you accepted a bottle of apple juice Eddie opened for you Cary Grant came over to your side with a nervous glance your way.

“Thank you,” he said luring a widening grin across your lips. “Howard said you picked me specifically for this role, it’s a heck of a role. You wrote a fantastic screenplay.”

“Well you certainly were at the top of the list for who I would have chosen for Roger,” in the twitch of his brow taking the hint that he might not have been your first choice you said, “I actually had the idea from a dream I had when I was pregnant. Though I do have to admit Roger was a tap dancing rhino in my dream.” You said widening his smile again in an amused chuckle. “But outside of a horn and tail you were at the top of the list.”

“Consider me tickled pink the rhinos are all on strike,” he joked making you giggle and smile as Norma came over to help you share more on the story for the continued series of pictures an approved photographer was allowed to take for a spread on the filming so far. Namely a glimpse at the story of yours Howard was bringing to life.

Lunch however for Howard came with his flying you back for the drive home, and when you were safe on the ground again he said, “Don’t you worry. I’ll keep taking good care of your paperback baby.” He said making you grin in his move back to the steps to climb back in the plane not wanting to leave his friends just yet while also knowing that he had to get back to finish filming for the day.

Victor looped his arm around your back needing someone to cuddle with as Eddie said, “That was fun. And that much fun deserves a big lunch. Seems like they are killing the nightclub scenes.”

James smiled at you and said, “I think for certain now we’ll have a spot in the film at least. If he doesn’t put you singing in it.”

“Oh he better not, I’m not in the screenplay.”

You said and Victor chuckled out, “I highly doubt that matters. He’s got exclusive footage with Bunny singing live. Who wouldn’t buy a ticket for that and to see my Nora on the silver screen.”

“Jeanie, yes, me, no. Leave the band to the job they were hired for.” You were helped into the car for the drive back you all joked through until the excited swarm of babies welcomed you back to your home and main jobs of the summer.

Pt 77

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam​​, @swoopswishsward

[originalhybridloverfics]

I Can't Let Her Die - Ch 10

A/N: Over the last week, my uncle passed away. And then I found out my cousin who came down for the funeral passed away.

My uncle was in his sixties but my cousin was only 34, he was perfectly healthy. My family is having a hard time with it all.

I will be taking time away to be with them. I won't be able to devote my time and headspace to write for a bit and I don't want my writing to suffer because of it.

Never take family for granted, death happens unexpectedly.

For now, I will be helping my cousin's wife in her time of need, my cousin had four young children and she could use the help during this difficult time.

This will be the last update until I am ready to get back to writing until then I will be on hiatus.

Felicity pressed her lips into a thin line. Laurel’s rudeness was not surprising. She had always had the feeling since their first meeting that Laurel didn’t like her.

Felicity knew it was because of Oliver but she didn’t understand it. Laurel had a history with Oliver. Not good history but it was still there. She had years of memories and moments with Oliver that no other woman who had been in his life did.

Though Felicity was glad she didn’t share the same history. Oliver and Laurel’s relationship was a place where romance, love, and loyalty went to die a slow painful agonizing death.

Still, she knew Laurel held a place in Oliver’s heart that no one could touch. Not even her.

Which is why she didn’t understand why the other woman was so threatened by her. Oliver loved her and held her on a pedestal above everyone else in life.

She was Gorgeous Laurel for a reason.

“You don’t get to come in and demand things.” Future Oliver’s voice was sharp like a blade. “And you sure as hell don’t get to come down here and speak to Felicity in such a way.”

“Ollie-”

“Don’t, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it is an apology.” his eyes were like burning daggers, his jaw ticking in anger.

“I’m sorry,” Laurel said immediately. “I was just surprised is all.”

“I don’t mean to apologize to me, I mean apologize to Felicity.” He steps next to Felicity, his hand coming to wrap around her shoulder.

Laurel looked at them and felt something twist inside her. “You want me to apologize to her?”

“Yes, she deserves your respect. Not for you to treat her like some second or third-class citizen.” He ground out, his hand tightening on Felicity’s shoulder.

Felicity covered his hand with hers and looked up at him. “It’s okay, Oliver.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, his other hand came up to brush a strand of her hair back. “You deserve respect. It does not matter who it is. No one has the right to speak down to you. No one.”

Felicity’s heart pounded in her chest, she wasn’t surprised he spoke up for her not this new Oliver she was getting to know but the intensity in which he spoke had butterflies swirling in her stomach, his arms were practically surrounding her and she liked it. She wanted to stay there in the circle of his arms. If felt right. It felt like she belonged there, the heat coming from his body warming her.

The look in his eyes made her want to surge up and press her lips against his but she held herself back. She couldn’t do that.

She took a shaky step back only to feel another presence, her Oliver’s hand settled over her other shoulder. “He’s right. If you’re going to be coming down here I expect you to treat everyone equally,” he spoke to Laurel.

Digg came forward. “Why are you here Laurel?”

“I need to speak with Oliver,” Laurel looked between the two Oliver’s, “but now I just really need to know what is going on. How are there two of you?”

“It’s complicated.” The future Oliver said. “And it’s not something we can get into right now. Tell me what you came for.”

“Right,” Laurel stepped closer to him. “I know when Sara was here you would partner up with her out there on the streets but she’s gone with Nyssa and you’re out there alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Felicity interjected.

“Yes but neither Roy nor John are the Canary,” Laurel argued.

“Neither are you,” Felicity said and went on before Laurel could continue. “And don’t diminish John or Roy’s place on this team. Every night they go out into the field and have Oliver’s back. Each one of them makes sure they make it back home every night. This isn’t a one or two-person unit. It’s a team.”

“And where do you fit in all this?” Laurel didn’t like feeling like she was being talked down to but that’s what it felt like to her. “Is an IT girl really necessary?”

“Yes, and she is not just an IT girl. She’s Felicity” Future Oliver cut in sharply while Digg and Roy bristled at her words. “Before her, John and I were half-assing it at best. We were just two soldiers but with Felicity, we became a team. A family. And that expanded with Roy and Sara. Felicity is the heart of the team. Without her, it doesn’t work.” His expression darkened. “Trust me, I would know.”

“Oliver,” Felicity’s tone was soft as she looked at him, their gaze saying the words their lips weren’t. She slipped her hand in his, squeezing it in comfort.

Oliver automatically lifted her hand to his lips, and then held it to his heart.

Laurel’s eyes narrowed. “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

“A place on this team.” Said Roy and John nudged him.

Present Oliver looked at the others, “Can you guys give us a moment with Laurel?”

John and Roy walked back to the back of the lair.

Felicity squeezed future Oliver’s hand one more time before joining Roy and John.

Laurel didn’t like the way both Oliver’s watch her go, one holding his hand out like her putting distance between them was too painful and the other like he wanted to call out to her for her to come back.

What the hell was going on with them and the babble mouth blonde.

“Furthermore, Felicity is more than the heart of the team, she’s brilliant and kind and she knows when to call our bullshit and force us to pull our heads out of our asses. Namely me. She is more valuable to the team and me than anyone, especially you could even begin to understand.” Future Oliver was vehement in his defense of Felicity.

“Ollie, I-”

“Don’t,” future Oliver said harshly. “I don’t want to hear an apology unless the words mean something to you.”

Laurel fell silent for a moment before finally. “I didn’t come here to cause problems. I wanted to talk about the Canary.”

“Sara is the Canary.” Future Oliver’s response was abrupt.

“Yes, but she’s not here. She left with Nyssa and I know you could use the help.”

“I have a team to help me.” Future Oliver glared harshly. “A team you are not a part of.”

“I can be,” Laurel argued.

“Are you out of your damn mind? You are not trained. If you go out there, you will get yourself killed or one of us.” Present Oliver said, his tone less harsh than his future self.

“Then train me!” Laurel saw the opening she was looking for.

A growl not unlike the one when he was under the hood, came from low in the back of future Oliver’s throat. “I don’t want you here in my space.”

Laurel flinched back.

“Hey, would you let me talk to her?” Present Oliver said, sending himself a look.

“You are too soft with her.” he accused before walking away.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as his future self walked back to Felicity his hand easily finding hers, and hating as they seemed to be sharing food.

Seeing Felicity acting like a couple with him made him envious in a way he has never felt before.

“Laurel it is not that simple,” Oliver said gently, forcing himself to focus on her. “This life, being a member of this team-”

“I know that,” Laurel interjected. “I know this life is dangerous.” she took another step forward. “But saving people, fighting for a cause that is bigger than yourself, working with you,” she laid her hand on his arm. “This is what we were meant to do.”

Oliver looked at her hand on his arm, watching as it slid down to hold his hand. It felt wrong.

His eyes moved away from Laurel to Felicity, meeting her blues eyes. He flinched at the hurt look in her eyes as she watched him and Laurel.

He jerked his hand back as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t but it was too late. Felicity looked away from him. She turned her whole body away from him.

He watched as his future self, stepped closer to her, tucking her into his side, and glared at him like he wanted to put an arrow through him.

Oliver frowned, wryly. His future self took self-loathing to another level. He was pretty sure his future self hated him to a certain degree.

“Laurel if you’re going to get into this it has to be for the right reasons.” Oliver turned back to her, forcing himself to look at her and not Felicity.

“What other reasons do I have,” Laurel was hurt when he pulled away from her she quickly covered it up, forcing a determined look. “Look, Ollie, I am going to help people just like Sara and you can either help me or I will do it on my own though I would feel better if you were with me.”

Oliver breathed out through his nose, fighting annoyance. Laurel never listened until she got her way and at this rate, she was going to get herself killed. “If you’re dead set on this regardless of the risk to yourself then you will not go out there until I say you are ready.”

“Does that mean you’re going to train me?” Laurel smiled cautiously.

“It does,” Oliver paused. “On one condition.”

“Which is?” Laurel asked, drawing closer to him, biting down on her lip.

“Felicity. I expect you to treat her with the same respect you would me and that goes for the whole team. If you are going to be a part of it you will not insult them and make anyone out to be inferior to you, do you understand?”

Laurel felt her hackles rise at the thought of treating the blonde as if she was on her level. She forced a smile. “Of course, Ollie.”

“C’mon,” said Oliver. “Felicity brought food. We were going to eat. We’ll discuss the new arrangement with the rest of the team.”

Laurel fell into step with him, feeling like she won, she flashed everyone a smile. “I look forward to fighting beside you,” she said before Oliver could.

“What’s happening now?” Roy shot Oliver a glare.

Felicity looked from Oliver and Laurel, brow furrowed.

“You’re not serious?” Future Oliver’s eyes were hard on his younger self. “She does not belong out there. She doesn’t belong down here.”

“We are going to work with her. It’s better than letting her get herself killed.” his younger self argued.

“We don’t have time for this!” Future Oliver growled, voice rising. “You know that! We have one goal. One! We don’t need distractions if we’re going to change my future.”

“You’re from the future?” Laurel jumped on the information like a dog with a bone.

She however was completely ignored by the two Oliver’s as the rest of Team Arrow watch them as if they were watching a ping pong match.

“We will change it but we can’t let Laurel get herself killed either.” present Oliver argued.

“I will not lose the woman I love because you can’t see the bigger picture here and focus on the only goal that matters.”

Felicity’s eyes widened, not expecting Oliver to proclaim his love in front of everyone.

But of course, Laurel took his words to mean her. Her heart skipped in her chest and a smile pulled at her lips. “You’re not going to lose me, Ollie. I am right here. This will-”

“I wasn’t talking about you!” Future Oliver growled in annoyance. “You are not the woman I love. Felicity is,”

“What?” Laurel recoiled as if he had hit her.

“I was talking about Felicity.” Future Oliver repeated

Laurel’s expression twisted. “So you are with Felicity? Really, Ollie? Screwing the EA is beneath you.”

“We are not sleeping together,” Felicity interjected.

Laurel scoffed, disbelievingly.

“Shut up,” future Oliver snapped angrily at the brunette, he stepped closer to Laurel and her eyes flared with desire.

Future Oliver’s annoyance flared more, he didn’t care for her attraction to him. He needed her to understand, she was not going to have everything go her way.

“Felicity and I have never been together, we have never slept together,”

“Then you can’t possibly love her,” Laurel said her tone, condescending. “Don’t mistake friendship for something more.”

“Love isn’t just fucking someone,” Oliver growled out. “It’s connection, it’s chemistry, understanding, belief, faith. It’s looking into their eyes and knowing that you’re safe, it’s that feeling of home when you’re with them, it’s the way your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The way your skin feels heated by a simple touch, it the quiet dreams, it’s in the way you look at them. It’s all the little things.”

Laurel’s breath quickened with every word and she felt a pang because he wasn’t describing them.

“I am not in love with you, Laurel and the truth is I never was but Felicity,” he turned to look at her and found her, smiling at something Digg said. “Felicity is everything.” he turned back to Laurel. “I came back to save her life and that is the only thing that I care about. Don’t get in my way I can promise you won't like the results.”

“Alright,” his younger self stepped in front of Laurel. “I think she gets it.”

“If she doesn’t it’s on her.” Future Oliver moved, going back to Felicity.

Present Oliver forced himself to turn away. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of seeing the easy way his older self interacted with Felicity.

He wasn’t surprised to see Laurel had tears in her eyes, a hurt look on her face. His future self was harsh.

“I don’t understand,” Laurel shook her head. “He came back here to save Felicity but if that’s was possible why didn’t he do this for his mom or God, Tommy? How is Felicity’s life more important?”

“It’s complicated. I can’t speak for him, I can only speak for myself and the experience I had and all I can tell you is that I can’t imagine getting through the last year without Felicity or the year before.” Oliver said. “I can’t imagine a future where she is not down here with me.”

Laurel shook her head and crossed her arms, her eyes landing on future Oliver and Felicity. The way he couldn’t get close enough, the absolute trust in Felicity’s eyes, the longing in his.

She couldn’t bring herself to understand no matter what Oliver said that out of everyone Oliver had lost Felicity was the one he came back to save. It didn’t make sense.

Who the hell was she to him to hold such a place in his life?

Laurel felt her stomach twist with anger and resentment with the realization that Oliver had never once felt about her with such strength and devotion.

What the hell was so special about Felicity?

She was the one who spent years putting up with his acts, the antics he got into with Tommy. The constant cheating, being fodder for the media because he didn’t know how to be faithful and now she was just going to be tossed aside for some blonde who came out of nowhere and brainwashed Ollie into thinking friendship was the same as being in love with someone?

No, she would make him see reason.

All she had to do was show him how great they were together and everything would be okay. She just had to suffer through this infatuation he seemed to have for Felicity.

She wouldn’t have to wait long. She was certain of it. When it came to women he was quick to grow bored. She was the exception. She has always been the exception. He always came back to her and she had no doubt he would come back to her again.

“Laurel, if you are going to be down here you will need to accept Felicity. Any grudges you might have for her need to be checked at the door.” present Oliver stressed.

Laurel dropped her arms and plastered on a fake smile. “I have no grudges. I just didn’t realize how important she is to you and u now that I do, I want to get to know her. Any friend of yours Ollie is a friend of mine.”

Future Oliver glowered when Laurel joined them with his younger self. He honestly didn’t have time for her.

It’s the only reason he told her the truth. He didn’t have time for games or keeping up with cover stories. He had more important things to deal with. Namely, keeping Felicity alive and ending the life of the bastard to take her from him.

Lunch was finished quietly a tenseness settling around them.

Laurel didn’t leave, not even when the boys headed out for patrol as night fell.

Felicity felt uncomfortable in her presence as she ran coms. She didn’t like that she was alone with Laurel.

Maybe she shouldn’t have convinced Future Oliver to join the rest of the team for patrol.

“How hard is it to do this?” Laurel asked, coming to look over her shoulder, staring at the computer screens.

“It’s the hardest thing in the world,” Felicity answered.

Laurel snorted. “I doubt sitting behind a computer is very hard.”

Felicity couldn’t stop her glare if she tried. “I meant the sacrifices Oliver, Roy, and John make going out there every night, living double lives, risking their safety to protect the city.”

Laurel couldn’t wait to be included in that. She wanted to make that kind of difference.

“And to answer the question. Yes, it’s not easy to run coms. it more than watching a computer screen, and it calls for more. It requires knowing your way around computer code and that’s something not easily taught to some individuals with less understanding of technology and not as much intellect.”

The boys were on the way back from patrol which Felicity couldn’t be happier about because she didn’t think she was prepared to deal with Laurel. Not tonight.

“It doesn’t look that difficult,” Laurel insisted. “I think I might want to try my hand at it.”

Felicity’s soul died on the inside at just the thought of Laurel touching her babies.

Oliver, Roy, and Digg made their way in through the back entrance, neither woman noticing the four men’s arrival.

“Oliver might have agreed to train you,” Felicity stood from her desk. “But you will not be going anywhere near my computers. I won’t have anyone messing with my babies.”

“I am good with computers.” Laurel insisted.

“Laurel, no one touches Felicity’s set up.” Future Oliver said drawing their eyes to him and the rest of the team.

“Not even you,” Laurel crossed her arms and cocked her head.

“Not even me,” present Oliver confirmed. “Can we talk?”

Laurel smiled brilliantly. Felicity tried not to show her hurt as he pulled Laurel to the other side of the room. Like the pair were sharing secret no one else was privileged enough to hear.

Felicity turned back to her computers, setting them to send alerts to her phone. “I am going to call it a night.”

She really just needed to get away from the Oliver and Laurel show. It was not good enough for her mental health.

Future Oliver set the bow he wielded down and grabbed Felicity’s coat from the back of her chair. “I’ll get you home,”

Felicity looked back at future Oliver and her chest warmed. “Do you think you can fit in the passenger seat of my car?”

“I’ll manage,” he said with a smile that was just for her.

Felicity said goodnight to Roy and John and allowed Oliver to take her by the hand.

Oliver chanced a look back to see his past self in a heated discussion with Laurel and he shook his head. If he had to make himself pull his head out of his ass to protect Felicity’s heart he damn well would do it. Facing forward again he laced his fingers with Felicity.

Felicity looked up at him and the smile on her face was enough to tear anyones’ walls down. “Let’s go home.”

His heart skipped in his chest, his stomach flipping.

Home. With Felicity.

Nothing had ever sounded more perfect.

Tags: @erika-amber @msbeccieboo @faegal04 @eloiselili @jendiaz69 @omglovechrissie @icannotbelieveiamhere @hope-for-olicity @keabbs @lageniuswannabe @it-was-a-red-heeler @aguschaer @memcjo

[theotherace]

This might be an idea you've already touched on in one of your past works, but I'll give it a try here: In a taang marriage AU, how would you see Toph handling the role of basically being the Lady of the new Air Nomads (made up of both their future children and Aang's followers from the other 3 nations)?

Hmmm.

Well, usually there are Air Nomads other than Aang around in my AUs, so that question actually hasn't come up too much. The short answer is: I think she'd hate it.

For the long answer, let's look at the AUs I have where Aang actually is the last airbender. Boy, this is getting long.

Pre-LoK AU: By the time they get together, they each have a child from previous relationships; an airbending daughter and a nonbending son. Which means in this AU, she's not the (only) woman who helps bring back the airbenders, and she's not at all interested in encroaching on Yee Li's territory when her and Aang get married. Yee-Li knows what she's doing, she's been raising an airbender for the past six or so years, and she's been actively learning about their culture since she was a teenager. Toph can't compete with that kind of knowledge, and she doesn't want to, either.

Doesn't change the fact that people very quickly start looking at her like they previously did at Yee-Li. And it's infuriating because she didn't spend the last two and a half decades building an image only to then be made into something she isn't by the world just because she married Twinkle Toes.

She'd do her very best to learn and understand Aang's culture, of course, and not only because of the kids, but she's not an Acolyte, and if anyone called her "Mother of the Air Nomads" or some shit like that, I think they'd have to limp home. She also would absolutely not tolerate the Acolytes putting any of the kids on a pedestal just because they happen to be airbenders. Appreciate all of the Avatar's kids or appreciate none of them, but all of them are more Air Nomad than you'll ever be, so stop treating them like second-class citizens just because they're an earth/nonbender.

She'd absolutely be by Aang's side no matter what he does and how much he wants to teach their kids about their culture, as long as he's teaching all of them, but she's Toph Beifong while doing that, Greatest Earthbender in the World, and don't you forget it.

She'd reject the role in the beginning, and then begrudgingly accept that this is how it is now, while making sure nobody forgets who she is behind that. She'd help Aang rebuild, because she loves him, because it's important, because this is her children's heritage, too, but she very firmly stay herself, an Earth Kingdom woman at the end of the day.

(Also, the airbenders do come back in this AU eventually, but not through some Spirit Portal bullshit.)

His Father's Weight AU: This one's a little different, because Aang dies incredibly young, and their son is only born after Aang's death.

There's a lot of rumors surrounding the kid; not everybody thinks he's actually Aang's, some people think he's adopted, not even all the Acolytes know for sure who his father is because, well, his father was violently murdered, and nobody would like to see that happen to Kelsang.

In this AU, nobody treats Toph with any sort of reverence for being the mother of the last airbender. On the contrary, there's plenty of people who believe she had an affair or slept with some rando immediately after Aang's death. Nobody but some very close friends even know he's an airbender until he's about 15.

Toph would take being the mother of an airbender seriously in a much different way here. She has to find him teachers, she has to teach him what she remembers, she would curse herself for not listening to Aang better, and the Acolytes for sneering at her when she has questions. She would hate this, as well, but in another way entirely.

She'd take her role much more seriously in this AU, because there's nobody but fate forcing it on her, so she can tell herself that she's chosen it herself. It's not like there's anybody else around to make sure Kelsang knows about his father's culture, and she doesn't care so much who she goes down in history as, as long as it's not as the woman who cut off the last airbender from his Air Nomad heritage. And if it's as the Mother/Lady of the Air Nomads, well, that's not what she would've wished for, but at least it means she did a good job with her son, and that she did right by Aang. She's still Toph, of course, and unapologetically so, but she has much less energy to fight idiots. Call her what you want. Look at her however. She's got a kid to raise.

And once Kelsang reveals himself as an airbender, the music changes, of course, but by that time, she's fed up with suck-ups, especially those who had nothing better to do than rumor and whisper over the previous years. She doesn't change her behaviour, she still stands with the Air Acolytes (specifically Teo and the kid, obviously) at important events, she more fully immerses herself in Air Nomad culture in this AU than in any other and is somehow still the most disconnected from the Acoyltes in this than in most of my other stories. She's not the most happy person in this AU. Things are difficult.

Main AU: In which Aang isn't the last airbender, so any notions of her being some sort of important figure to the Air Nomads is quickly dispelled, should it come up. There's still weirdos around, of course, but she would shut them down quickly. The Acolytes would be more interested in the actual Air Nomads than her, which is more than fine by her. All in all, this would be very similiar to the Pre-Lok AU, with maybe a little more annoyance, because it's less understandable. There's Air Nomads! Airbender! Men, women, everything outside and in between! Leave her be, she isn't even the person who gave birth to the most airbenders in the last ten years. Still surportive of Aang and the kids. Still learning. But don't call her anything but Toph unless it's "Greatest Earthbender in the World".

And also, because re-reading made me unsure if you weren't maybe talking about some sort of arranged marriage, the Arragend Marriage AU: Toph would hate to be put in this situation and she would resent everybody who put her there. Maybe in this AU, the Gaang never stumbled upon her, and then one way or another, she ends up Aang's wife, anyway.

She hates him. She hates, hates, hates, hates, hates him. She hates that she'll never be more than what she was supposed to be now, and she hates that he's okay with just marrying this random girl who he knows nothing about. So she makes an effort to learn nothing and be as uncooperative as possible until she realises ... he's not pissed? In fact, he doesn't seem much of anything. He avoids her most days. He hasn't even touched her hand since they got married. He's gone a lot, and he always offers her to come with him, so one day, she does.

And they get to know each other, a little bit. And he promises he'll never do anything she doesn't want, and that she can leave whenever; he was just worn down after months and months of people urging him to take a wife. So neither of them were exactly excited about this marriage. And they aren't for quite a long time.

So this AU is very similar to the first and third once she's fallen in love with Aang, but she is just a giant dick in the beginning -- and she's earned that, too. Call her Lady of the Air Nomads again and catch these hands. She's not even bending, she's just kicking where it hurts the most. Also, leave her kids alone, she had those for herself, not for the world to gawk at. This Toph is very "Fuck off" in general; more so than in canon, and if an Acolyte (or whoever) gets weird about Aang/any kid being an airbender, they are banned from the family. ("Toph, I can't ban them from the Temple, this is their home, too." "Well, I can throw them off the mountain, if you'd prefer, Aang.")

Aaand ... I hope I answered your question? Sometimes I get lost in a thought and then talk right past an actual answer. In any case, thank you for the ask!

[justforbooks]

February 20, 1943 – The Saturday Evening Post publishes the first of Norman Rockwell's Four Freedoms in support of United States President Franklin Roosevelt's 1941 State of the Union address theme of Four Freedoms.

The Four Freedoms is a series of four 1943 oil paintings by the American artist Norman Rockwell. The paintings—Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear—are each approximately 45.75 inches (116.2 cm) × 35.5 inches (90 cm), and are now in the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. The four freedoms refer to President Franklin D. Roosevelt's January 1941 Four Freedoms State of the Union address in which he identified essential human rights that should be universally protected. The theme was incorporated into the Atlantic Charter, and became part of the charter of the United Nations. The paintings were reproduced in The Saturday Evening Post over four consecutive weeks in 1943, alongside essays by prominent thinkers of the day. They became the highlight of a touring exhibition sponsored by The Post and the U.S. Department of the Treasury. The exhibition and accompanying sales drives of war bonds raised over $132 million.

This series has been the cornerstone of retrospective art exhibits presenting the career of Rockwell, who was the most widely known and popular commercial artist of the mid-20th century, but did not achieve critical acclaim. These are his best-known works, and by some accounts became the most widely distributed paintings. At one time they were commonly displayed in post offices, schools, clubs, railroad stations, and a variety of public and semi-public buildings.

Critical review of these images, like most of Rockwell's work, has not been entirely positive. Rockwell's idyllic and nostalgic approach to regionalism made him a popular illustrator but a lightly regarded fine artist during his lifetime, a view still prevalent today. However, he has created an enduring niche in the social fabric with Freedom from Want, emblematic of what is now known as the "Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving".

Rockwell's Four Freedoms—Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear—were first published on February 20, February 27, March 6, and March 13, 1943 along with commissioned essays from leading American writers and historians (Booth Tarkington, Will Durant, Carlos Bulosan, and Stephen Vincent Benét, respectively). They measure 45.75 inches (116.2 cm) × 35.5 inches (90 cm) except Freedom of Worship which measures 46.0 inches (116.8 cm) × 35.5 inches (90 cm). Rockwell used live models for all his paintings. In 1935, he began using black-and-white photographs of these live models extensively, although he did not publicly reveal he did so until 1940. The use of photography expanded the possibilities for Rockwell who could ask models to pose in positions they could hold only for brief periods of time. He could also produce works from new perspectives and the Four Freedoms represented "low vantage point of Freedom of Speech, to close-up in Freedom of Worship, midrange in Freedom from Fear, and wide angle in Freedom from Want".

In 1939, Rockwell moved to Arlington, Vermont, which was an artist-friendly community that had hosted Robert Frost, Rockwell Kent, and Dorothy Canfield Fisher. Of the move from New Rochelle, New York, Rockwell said "I was restless ... The town [of New Rochelle] seemed tinged with everything that happened to me". In New Rochelle, he had both endured a divorce and run with a fast crowd. Artists John Atherton, Mead Schaeffer and George Hughes established residences in Arlington soon after Rockwell. The resident artists, Rockwell included, were mutually supportive and hired local citizens as their amateur models. Using photography and Arlington residents as models, Rockwell was able to capture what he referred to as "human-looking humans", who were generally working-class people, in an hour or so rather than hire professional models for the entire day. Rockwell paid his models modestly. Rose Hoyt, who was engaged for a total of three photographic sessions for Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Worship, earned $15 ($234.71 in 2019 dollars) for her sittings.

When the US entered the war in 1941, it had three agencies responsible for war propaganda: The Office of Facts and Figures (OFF), The Division of Information of the Office of Emergency Management (OEM), and Office of Government Reports (OGR). The OFF was responsible for commissioned artwork and for assembling a corps of writers, led by Librarian of Congress Archibald MacLeish. By mid-1942, the Office of War Information determined that despite the efforts of OFF in distributing pamphlets, posters, displays, and other media, only a third of the general public was familiar with Roosevelt's Four Freedoms and at most one in fifty could enumerate them. The Four Freedoms had been a "campaign to educate Americans about participation in World War II".

By 1942, Rockwell had been illustrating professionally for thirty years and was having a successful career. Additionally, by mid-1942 Rockwell's Gillis was becoming famous. Lorimer had been the editor of The Post from 1898 to 1936. He was followed by Wesley W. Stout for five years. In early 1942, Stout ran an article entitled "The Case Against the Jew", which led to advertising and subscription cancellations. The Post was rumored to be in financial trouble in 1942. Soon Stout was replaced by Hibbs who revamped the magazine.

On May 24, 1942, Rockwell was seeking approval for a poster design at The Pentagon because the Artists Guild had designated that he advocate for the U.S. Army Ordnance Department. Robert Patterson, who was then United States Undersecretary of War, suggested revisions. On the same day, he visited with Thomas Mabry of the Graphic Division of the War Department's Office of Facts and Figures, which coordinated war-themed posters and billboards. Mabry relayed the need for Four Freedoms artwork. Rockwell returned home pondering the Atlantic Charter, which had incorporated the Four Freedoms.

Rockwell remembered a scene of a local town meeting in which one person spoke out in lone dissent, but was given the floor, and was listened to respectfully, despite his solitary opposition. He was inspired to use this scene to illustrate Freedom of Speech, and Rockwell decided to use his Vermont neighbors as models for an inspirational set of posters depicting the themes laid out by Roosevelt the previous year in a Four Freedoms series. He spent three days making charcoal sketches of the series, which some sources describe as colour sketches. Rockwell's patriotic gesture was to travel to Washington, D.C. and volunteer his free services to the government for this cause. In mid-June, accompanied by Schaeffer, he took four charcoal sketches to Washington, where they stayed at the Mayflower Hotel, as the two sought commissions to design war art. During the trip, Rockwell was asked by the Boy Scouts of America to continue his annual creation of a new painting for their annual calendar by publishing representative Orion Winford. He was unable to hold Patterson's attention during their meeting, so he met with the new Office of War Information (OWI), where he was told "The last war you illustrators did the posters. This war we're going to use fine artists men, real artists."

On his return trip to Vermont with Schaeffer on June 16, they stopped in Philadelphia to meet with new Saturday Evening Post editor Ben Hibbs. Many accounts portray this visit as unplanned, but whether it was is unclear. Hibbs liked Rockwell's Four Freedoms sketches, and he gave Rockwell two months to complete the works. A June 24 correspondence from The Post clarified that both Rockwell's and Schaeffer's series would be published. By June 26, The Post's art editor James Yates notified Rockwell of plans for a layout of paintings with an accompanying essay or accompanying essays by President Roosevelt.

Rockwell's summer was full of distractions. At one point a Manhattan gastroenterologist prescribed a surgery of uncertain nature, though it was not performed. He had commissions for other magazines, and business complications regarding second reproduction rights. He also had his Boy Scout commitment. Under time constraints, Rockwell made every excuse to avoid all other distracting assignments. In October, The Post sent its art editor to Arlington to check on Rockwell's progress. At about the same time, despite its Graphics Division chief's, Francis Brennan's outrage, the OWI began showing signs of renewed interest. In fact, after Rockwell was chosen the entire OWI Writers' Division resigned. The press release associated with the resignation asserted that the OWI was dominated by "high-pressure promoters who prefer slick salesmanship to honest information. These promoters would treat as stupid and reluctant customers the men and women of the United States." There was further turmoil in the OWI from a faction supporting work by Ben Shahn; Shahn's work was not used in propaganda because it lacked general appeal. There were several artists who were commissioned to promote the war, including Jean Carlu, Gerard Hordyke, Hugo Ballin, and Walter Russell. Russell created a Four Freedoms Monument that was eventually dedicated at Madison Square Garden in New York City.

The series took seven months to complete, and was finished by year end. Supposedly, Rockwell lost 10 pounds (4.54 kg) from the assignment. As Rockwell was completing the series, he was motivated by news of Allied setbacks, a fact that gives the work a sense of urgency. Models included a Mrs. Harrington who became the devout old woman in Freedom of Worship and a man named Jim Martin who appears in each painting in the series (most prominently in Freedom from Fear). The intention was to remind America what they were fighting for: freedom of speech and worship, freedom from want and fear. All the paintings used a muted palette and are devoid of the vermilion Rockwell is known for.

Some sources published after Rockwell's death question whether the government was truly as discouraging as Rockwell claimed. They cite an encouraging April 23, 1943 correspondence with Thomas D. Mabry of the OWI (a former Executive Director of the Museum of Modern Art). At the time, the three government propaganda agencies were disjointed until they were unified under the OWI on June 13, 1942 by a Presidential Executive Order. Furthermore, the writers' division, led by MacLeish, was under pressure for failing to deliver a message intelligible to people of varying intelligence.

Upon completion, Rockwell's works were briefly exhibited at the West Arlington Grange before being delivered to The Post in Philadelphia. The series arrived in Philadelphia in January 1943. Roosevelt was shown the paintings in early February, and The Post sought Roosevelt's approval for the series of paintings and essays. Roosevelt responded with both a personal letter to Rockwell and an "official" letter of commendation to The Post dated February 10. Roosevelt instructed The Post to have the OWI have the essays translated into foreign languages so they could be presented to leaders at the United Nations.

The Freedoms were published in a series of four full-colour, full-page editions, each accompanied by an essay of the same title. The panels were published in successive weeks in the order corresponding to Roosevelt's speech: Freedom of Speech (February 20), Freedom of Worship (February 27), Freedom from Want (March 6), and Freedom from Fear (March 13). For the authors of the accompanying essays, Hibbs had numerous options given the number of regular contributors to The Post.

Rockwell is considered the "quintessential middlebrow American artist" by Michael Kelly. As an artist he is an illustrator rather than a fine arts painter. Although his style is painterly, his work is produced for the purpose of mass reproduction, and it is produced with the intent of delivering a common message to its viewers via a detailed narrative style. Furthermore, the vast majority of Rockwell's work was viewed in reproduced format and almost none of his contemporaneous audience ever saw his original work. Also, Rockwell's style of backwoods New England small-town realism, known as regionalism, was sometimes viewed as out of step with the oncoming wave of abstract modern art. Some say his realism is so direct that he abstains from using artistic license. John Canaday, a New York Times art critic once referred to Rockwell as the "Rembrandt of Punkin' Crick" for his aversion to the vices of big city life. Dave Hickey derided Rockwell for painting without inflection. Some critics also view his sentimental and nostalgic vision out of step with the harsh realities of American life, such as the Great Depression. Deborah Solomon views the works as being "based on lofty civic principles", but rather than dealing with the warring patriots, they present themes with "civic and familial rituals" for "emblematic scenes".

Post editor Hibbs said the Four Freedoms were an "inspiration ... in the same way that the clock tower of old Independence Hall, which I can see from my office window, inspires me." Roosevelt wrote to Rockwell "I think you have done a superb job in bringing home to the plain, everyday citizen the plain, everyday truths behind the Four Freedoms ... I congratulate you not alone on the execution but also for the spirit which impelled you to make this contribution to the common cause of a freer, happier world". Roosevelt wrote to The Post, "This is the first pictorial representation I have seen of the staunchly American values contained in the rights of free speech and free worship and our goals of freedom from fear and want." Roosevelt also wrote of the corresponding essays, "Their words should inspire all who read them with a deeper appreciation of the way of life we are striving to preserve."

The Four Freedoms are perhaps Rockwell's most famous work. Some have said Rockwell's Four Freedoms lack artistic maturity. Others have pointed to the universality of the Freedom of Religion as disconcerting to practitioners of particular faiths. Others complained that he idealized American life because by depicting wholesome, healthy, and happy sentiments, Rockwell depicted the good that was remembered or wished for, but by avoiding misery, poverty, and social unrest, he failed to demonstrate command of the bad and the ugly parts of American life. Rockwell's response to this criticism was, "I paint life as I would like it to be." Rockwell made it known that he hoped these would be his masterpieces, but was disappointed. Nonetheless, he was satisfied with the public acceptance of the series and that the series was able to serve such a patriotic purpose. Laura Claridge feels he might have achieved his ambition if he had pursued the "quiet small scenes" he later became known for.

Although all four images were intended to promote patriotism in a time of war, Freedom from Want, which depicts an elderly couple serving a fat turkey to what looks like a table of happy and eager children and grandchildren has given the idyllic Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving work as important a place in the enduring marketplace of promoting family togetherness, peace and plenty as Hallmark at Christmas. Some say the Four Freedoms were unable to live up to the role of "illustrating grandiose concepts with humble correlatives" because they are too loud.

The commercial success of the series was in part because each painting is considered to be a model of understandable art by the general public. The success of Rockwell's depictions was due to his use of long-standing American cultural values about unity and respect of certain institutions while using symbols that enabled a broad audience to identify with his images. This understandability made it one extreme on the scale of artistic complexity when comparing the series to contemporaneous art. It was diametrically opposed to abstract art and far removed from the intrigue of surrealism.

In 1999, the High Museum of Art and the Norman Rockwell Museum produced the first comprehensive exhibition of Rockwell's career that started at the High Museum on November 6, 1999, stopped at the Chicago Historical Society, Corcoran Gallery of Art, San Diego Museum of Art, Phoenix Art Museum, and Norman Rockwell Museum before concluding at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum on February 11, 2002. Although there has been a long history of Rockwell detractors, during this Norman Rockwell: Pictures for the American People touring exhibition attendance was record-setting and critical reviews were quite favorable. The nostalgia seemed to cause a bit of revisionism in the art world, according to The New York Times which said, "What's odd is the show's enthusiastic reception by the art world, which in a lather of revisionism is falling all over itself to embrace what it once reviled: the comfy, folksy narrative visions of a self-deprecating illustrator..."

Some found Rockwell's presentation somewhat patronizing, but most were satisfied. The New Yorker remarked two years later: "They were received by the public with more enthusiasm, perhaps, than any other paintings in the history of American Art". Claridge notes that the series is an example in which the sum is greater than its parts. She notes the inspiration comes in part from their cumulative "heft".

Following the 1943–44 War Bond Show, the Four Freedoms toured the country further by train in a specially-designed car. Through the 1950s the Four Freedoms hung in Hibbs' offices at The Post. Hibb retired in 1961 and by the time The Post was discontinued in 1969, Rockwell regained possession of the original paintings. Norman Rockwell bequeathed his personal collection in trust to the Norman Rockwell Museum in 1973 for the "advancement of art appreciation and art education". This collection included the Four Freedoms paintings. The works remained on exhibit at "The Norman Rockwell Museum at The Old Corner House" for nearly 25 years. In 1993, when the Rockwell Museum moved from its original location, the Four Freedoms were displayed in the new museum's central gallery. As of 2014, the Four Freedoms remain in the collection of the Museum. In 2011, the Williamstown Art Conservation Center did some work on the Four Freedoms, including reducing exposure to various elements and preventing further wear.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Prisoner Of OTP-Love: Sunset Shimmer x Scourge The Hedgehog

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Credit for My Little Pony goes to Bonnie Zacherle

Credit for My Little Pony Friendship is Magic goes to Lauren Faust

Credit for Sonic The Hedgehog goes to Sega

Credit for Archie Sonic The Hedgehog Comics goes to Archie Comics

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I had to edit this drawing today, because I needed to put my tumblr name on it, as well as edit out Sunset's third arm that wasn't being held by Scourge.

I mean it is possible for some humans to be born with more than two arms, or only being born with one.

and besides that one error I made on this drawing, I also had to edit the ends of Sunset's hair to have some yellow.

I believe that if I remember right,

this was inspired by Shadow Meets Equestria Girls,

it's a crossover and it's on Cryil Smith VA's Youtube Channel,

their channel and works is one of many Youtubers,

I want to be protected from the video/episode stealing shisno.

I really REALLY can not stand those toxic-youtubers,

you do NOT re-upload a episode of Helluva Boss on your channel,

to share it, if your gonna share it, put it in a link to someone.

I’m still not okay with finding out what that youtuber today.

and there is a reason why I put Redacted instead of their real youtube name.

when I was first looking up Helluva Boss, it was to see if episode 6 was out yet, but then I found that there was another episode stealing jerk.

if a youtuber is gonna re-upload a video from another youtuber,

it should only be if the original is off of youtube.

it’s because of most toxic-youtubers, that half of other youtubers

who don’t know where the original videos come from

and don’t bother checking the description below more carefully,

that the original ones end up getting false reported,

and if I had to guess, if you don’t inform that you have a youtube amv you made and uploaded on both youtube and at another video sharing site, and a person sees it over at the other place first

and then see it on youtube, it is possible they will not think they are the same person and will falsely report the video.

that might of been the reason for what happen to one of

the Undertale Amvs. either the person who false reported saw the sub version of it by a person who got permission, or they saw it on another video sharing site and then didn’t bother to ask before jumping the gun.

 later I am gonna write about how the Toxic-Youtubers

need to be stop, because of their taking episodes or amv and gmvs

without permission of the other youtubers that end up the victims.

right now I’m just going to post some drawings up on here.

I don’t think Sunset will end up in Shadow Meets Equestria Girls,

at least not to my knowledge.

too bad she couldn’t stop Discord, Celestia and Luna

from turning Cozy Glow, Tirek and Chrysalis to a stone statue.

could of used the Element of Empathy during that battle.

I still love the last episodes and all the other episodes of MLPFIM.

but if characters like Discord, Celestia, Luna, Star Butterfly, Scrooge McDuck (from the ducktales reboot) , Pink “Rose” Diamond,

and Mr Death’s girlfriend Miss Life from Adventure Time series

(worst Mom Ever of all time.)

do a Anti-Hero move, and end up hurting others who for what they believe is the fully the right thing to do.

no matter if Discord had turned Cozy bad or not,

it is possible that the reason why she was trying to get rid of the magic,

was because of how Unicorns (even if it’s not all Unicorns)

treat Earth-Ponies and Pegasus as second class citizens.

the only ponies that seem to higher in rank than Unicorns,

would be Alicorns.

in theory, the Bat-Ponies might be treated third class citizens,

seeing as no filly or colt or equine of the bat-ponies

have ever made much appearances or went to Twilight’s school of friendship.

let’s turn to the Buffalo in MLPFIM,

we know that the earth-ponies took over their lands and planted apple trees.

but it is possible that the Buffalo weren’t the only ones who lived in the land that would then become Equestria II.

before they were driven out, Tirek’s family ruled the land that would then become the new equestria.

and the three wendigos are possibly from the Equestria I,

before Equestria II was founded.

I believe that the wendigos are the spirits of the original sirens

that Stygian met and when he went to get help,

the three original sirens end up tricking three little filly sisters

those being Adagio Dazzle (the eldest sister)  Aria Blaze (the middle sister), Sonata Dusk (the youngest sister)

the siren gems end up bonding to the three young fillies,

and transforming them to sirens, while the originals

become the wendigos.

wendigos go after ponies with negative energy/magic,

the dazzling’s use to do the same until their power was taken away,

but it returned to them when they re-learned how to sing,

and it appears their powers might of changed a bit.

 find the magic is one of my favorite songs that is sung by the dazzlings.      

when the three of those sisters

(and yes they are really sisters in canon)

were tricked by the original sirens who then became wendigos,

Stygian did not see this and because of him and Starswirl and the others, innocent fillies that were overcome by the power that was given to them by the wendigos, were banished from equestria I.

over time the Wendigos frozen the land beyond healing,

and all ponies moved to another land, taking it over,

and driving it’s original ruling family and half of their people

to a new place, possibly underground.

the only ones that were left, was the native animals

such as the bugbear, chimera, cockatrice and other monster type animals.

the animals that weren’t originally from the land that would become Equestria II, were brought from Equestria I by the ponies.

the other natives of Equestria II besides Tirek and maybe even the changelings,

would be the Buffalo.

before earth-ponies became crystal ponies,

they took the original Queen Changelings Crystal Empire,

this was long before they become what they look like when we are first introduce them, in theory, I think they look like their reform selves

but possibly in Crystal form.

I wont force other fans to believe that theory,

but I see it as headcanon.

the earth-ponies that would become crystal ponies,

were welcome into the crystal changelings home,

but then were exiled by them and without the crystal heart,

they slowly became corrupt and starve.

over time the earth-ponies that took over their rightful home

became the Crystal Ponies, maybe by Princess Amore’s Grandmother.

I guess it could be possible that Amore didn’t know how the Crystal Ponies and her grandmother had founded the Crystal Empire,

not knowing it was the original home of the changelings,

and without the power of the crystal heart to share their love that would then in return feed them, they would slowly become the changelings that we end up introduce to.

I also have a theory that Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie

and Rainbow Dash from the human world, might really be the original ponies from Equestria, from the first season of when Nightmare Moon returns.

like what if when any pony finds out the truth about the history of Equestria, they were taken to that magic pool, cloned

and then banished to another portal to the human world

or the mirror to the human world was open by Alicorn Magic.

the only one who possibly didn’t have a human counterpart,

was Sunset Shimmer and Starlight Glimmer, well they might have in the fanon.

but we know that most of the humans we see in the human counterpart world, aren’t seen in Equestria.

what if Trixie from the human world, was really the original Trixie

who had used the Alicorn Amulet and after everything seem to work out in the end, Trixie was taken by Celestia to the magic pool,

cloned and then the real Trixie was banished to the human world.

even if most of the humans from the human world,

would be originally born humans, most of the humans could turn out to be ponies who were banished by at first Starswirl and then later Celestia.

at some point Celestia stop that kind of banishment,

and started to turn ponies into stone instead.

I think that half of the pony statues we see along with Discord,

were real ponies once, who perhaps were the original elements of harmony along with Celestia and Luna.

but they were betrayed by Celestia,

and when Luna found out the truth of what happen to their friends,

it gave her the final push (besides the other being jealous that their subjects seem to love Celestia more than her.)

to give in to the negative side of Alicorn Magic,

and transform into her dark half.....which is Nightmare Moon.

the Statue Pony that looks like they are holding a stroll,

might be the element of inspiration.

the book of the elements of harmony, was perhaps rewritten,

to hide the fact there was more than just six elements.

to hide this truth, Celestia took the elements that she and her sister could not use, and destroyed them and threw their shards into the human world, where they would end up in a cave

and then grow into a new tree of harmony for the human world,

and later their power will be given to Sunset and her friends.

Rarity was original suppose to be the element of inspiration,

but because of the word might not be understood,

it was changed to generosity.

it is easy to explain the element of inspiration,

it’s like you get a idea that inspires you, like drawing a fan art

or writing a fan fic or writing a story or drawing that doesn’t have to do with fan art or fan fic and or if you write a song or poem.

that is what is the true element of inspiration is like.

Trixie being the element of forgiveness in Princess Trixie Sparkle,

is awesome.

in theory if she ends up meeting Starlight in that fan series,

I think they would still end up becoming friends because of the bond they shared in the canon.

if my theory ended up being true, and not just a fan theory.

if the shards of the lost elements of harmony were destroyed by Celestia, then thrown into the human world and ended up in a cave,

and then grew into a new element of harmony tree, or what appears like a broken tree crystal rock thing.

then those broken shards would have some of the original powers of the elements that are still in equestria, in them which would grow each of all the elements, first the ones that are needed by Sunset and her friends, then when the time comes the lost elements would grow from that crystal rock tree stump.

one of those who might be the ones who represent the lost elements of harmony.

might be Trixie, Moondancer, Starlight Glimmer, Wallflower Blush,

Juniper Montage, Maud Pie, Vinyl Scratch possibly.

those who are the Neo-Elements of Harmony,

would have to be Smolder, Yona, Gallus, Sandbar, Ocellus

and Silverstream.

and if Cozy ended up forming a friendship and deep bond with those six.....she might of became someone who represented the element of empathy.

and those who represent the lost elements of harmony

might be Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Diamond Tiara,

Silver Spoon and Silverstream’s brother.

there is always the comic series of MLPFIM,

and maybe Cozy, Tirek and Chrysalis

will be given freedom in the comic series...maybe, I don’t know.   

anyway I hope some of you like this drawing that has a ship

of Nicolette x Fiona and Scourge x Sunset.

 even if this was partly inspired by Shadow Meets Equestria Girls,

it is still possible that Sunset might not end up in that fan series.

but it be nice if she was, and Scourge fell in love with her.

if anyone can reform Scourge and understand why he became the way he did, it would be Sunset Shimmer. 

in this drawing Scourge captures Sunset, that is why he is the only one smiling and she is not too happy,

but it also hints that they will fall in love. 

and it is Scourge and Sunset’s love and bonding with each other,

will help Scourge reform, he will still be himself,

but be a bit different too.

well that is how I view it anyway.              

[thedreadvampy]

Also like about your “don’t say you hate British people” post - whenever people say “British” I’m always a bit eh since it lumps Scotland and Wales fully in with England. And like yeah Scotland and Wales are not like innocent when it comes to the empire (and colonisation in general. Wales still has a colony of its own) but they were still basically just expendable soldiers to the english army. I mean the two countries were colonised by England, Wales being the first country to ever be colonised by England I think. Like they might have been more involved but that doesn’t stop them from being victims of England’s colonisation too. And like I know when people say Britain they usually just mean England but like,,, that’s not what we hear you know. Idk I’m not like trying to excuse bad actions but it’s just,,, there’s nuance that people outside the UK just don’t know because colonisation of the celtic countries isn’t much considered

Ehhhhhhh I somewhat agree and somewhat disagree, and I may get kicked out of Scotland for saying this, but honestly yes Scotland and Wales have been long-term colonised and their cultures actively and vindictively wiped out and yes I am a believer in the argument for Scottish independence but on the other hand I severely disagree with the idea that they have been “expendable foot soldiers” for England in the peak of empire. 

I want you to look at the wealth that came into Scotland through the Atlantic slave trade - look at Edinburgh New Town, and almost every historic building in Glasgow, of which there were many, and remember that the vast majority of wealth in Glasgow was built from profiteering on trading in human lives. The royal line which created the Empire was Scottish - the vast majority of colonial expansion took place under the Stuarts. So many majorly fucked military and political leaders have been born and educated in Scotland, from Gladstone to Haig to Blair, and that’s not to absolve England but one of the things that I find most objectionable about the tone of Scottish and Welsh nationalist discourse is the eagerness to push blame for imperial crimes as some uniquely English thing, as if the wealth of both countries hadn’t largely come from sea trade from the Empire, as if both countries weren’t also active, energetic participants in colonialism and racism - I spend a lot of time in lefty circles which obviously overlap a lot with scotnats and as I say I do believe in the future of an independent Scotland but I hate the idea that once Scotland throws off the shackles of Westminster it will hold no culpability for the ongoing legacy of colonialism, that Scotland and Wales don’t have a strong vested interest in continued imperialism, and that the work of Dealing With The Shadow Of Empire will be done. A country can be both historically colonised and fully and entirely complicit in the colonisation of others. Sorry bout it.

Sorry. I know you’re not trying to start something here and that you do recognise that Scotland and Wales outside the Union would not be some post-racial post-colonial wonderland. But. I’m not really reacting to you but to this consistent grating idea that independence is all it takes to make Scotland Not Colonisers.

Also I do have one other thought on the Union and that thought is: I grew up in the North East of England, in the highest area of rural deprivation in England and I think the second or third highest in the UK. I don’t feel that Durham is any more fairly represented in the Union than Dundee (and the North doesn’t have a devolved governance, despite facing many of the same policy mismatches with the reality of constituents’ lives as Scotland). The North, like Scotland or Wales, has been largely treated as disposable by the UK government, and the North, like Scotland and Wales, was substantially culturally separate from Southern England before being violently annexed and submitted to cultural and linguistic genocide (the Scouring of the North in 1067). Unlike Scotland, I don’t think there’s a strong argument for Northern independence, but I also don’t feel like Northern England is any more (or less) culpable for the ongoing colonial crimes of the United Kingdom than Scotland or Wales. Nor do I think London is. 

As I said in my post about Britishness as a whole - maybe the problem isn’t national borders or nationality but the actions and ideas of a) the ruling classes and b) the political system upheld through trying to atomise down which entire area/nation is to blame (oh, it’s the British, no, it’s the English, no, it’s the Southerners, no, it’s the Londoners) because until we get down to the level of ‘no, it’s Westminster, no, it’s the priorities of government, no, it’s an institutional unwillingness to apply critical thinking about our histories’ we are always lumping together those currently complicit in the system, those being shat on by it, those fighting against it and those actively profiting from it. What I don’t like about ‘it’s the British’ or ‘it’s the English’ or ‘it’s the Southerners’ isn’t just that it’s broad, it’s also externalising the problem. It isn’t a country! A country isn’t a real thing! It’s the people in the country, all of whom have different relationships to the history of imperialism and the present of colonialist exploitation which yes, are inevitably connected to our cultural and political surroundings and heritage but ugh, I’m not explaining this well. I just think that any attempt to say ‘the problem is inherent to [Britishness/Englishness/Londonness]’ both creates a blindness to the broader issue (see: why I take objection to people conflating colonialism and England while ignoring the crimes of France, Spain, Belgium, Portugal, Italy, Germany, Sweden, Russia, the USA, Canada...) and sort of insists against a possibility for change from within. A lot of British people (including, and particularly, as you say, Scottish and Welsh and especially Northern Irish people, and I’m using the phrase British in the understanding that they probably shouldn’t be lumped in together but are, but also a lot of English people) are more harmed than helped by Britain’s continuing colonial legacy, and there is room for substantial grassroots resistance from the people being harmed. I think any citizen of the UK with any degree of historical and political consciousness must necessarily have a very complex relationship with Britishness, Englishness/Scottishness/Welshness, and the responsibility both for past crimes and future change.

it’s 1:30 AM I’m talking some crap and not expressing myself well. idk. I just think there’s a tension for me where I very strongly believe in independence but I also think framing British colonial history as purely the English forcing the Celtic nations into doing Bad Things is and unfortunately common and aggressively short-sighted issue which underpins a lot of people’s arguments for Scottish and Welsh nationalism and is simply not that easy. In 800 years of occupation for Wales and 300-400 years for Scotland (depending if you count from the Union of Crowns or the Acts of Union), with a Scottish royal line and a consistent if underrepresentative political and social presence in the Union, sorry, but Scotland can’t wash its hands of 300 years of active enthusiastic participation in the Empire any more than Yorkshire or Cornwall can. The boundaries are arbitrary, nations are invented, but history is real and present and so is the ongoing legacy of Empire in all countries of the Union (largely excepting Northern Ireland to my knowledge, but the very existence of Northern Ireland as a concept is a hangover of Empire)