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queenshelby · 2 years ago

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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART FOUR: THE ESSAY

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Mentions of Depression, Anxiety

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

PLEASE NOTE THAT I HAVE REWRITTEN THIS STORY AND PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE (rewritten).

A week had passed and you had settled back into drama school without any problem whatsoever which, to you and your best friend Emma, was a surprise.

You had told Emma everything. You told her about the night you spent with Cillian three weeks ago, you told her about who he was and you told her exactly how you felt about this man being your lecturer now. It bothered you and you desperately wanted to quit, feeling torn about the attraction you still felt towards him while being with James.

Luckily for you, however, Emma was the voice of reason. Like always, she supported you, retained your secrets and reminded you that it would just be for four months and then he would move on and so would you. The semester would be over by the end of November. It was your final one and you would probably not see him again after that.

“Don’t forget that you are on a scholarship. You need this and, no doubt, this class will help you with your acting skills” is what Emma reminded you of and, since you were grateful for the place you were in these days, you agreed with her. She was right. You needed this in order to leave your past behind as, just like Emma, you went through the so called “foster system” in the US which was nothing short of horrific.

Both, Emma and you immigrated to the United States without a family to support you. You arrived as refugees at the same processing centre when you were just ten years old, making you both unsuitable for adoption which was largely due to the fact that most families approved for adoption wanted babies or toddlers under the age of three.

As such, you both moved from one foster home to another and the last of them was the worst for you. Your so-called foster parents were strict and any time you did not obey to their rules, you were punished for it. Food was withheld from you and, on occasion, you were even beaten to the point where your skin turned blue. During this time, you had been to hospital five times and no matter how often you complained, nothing changed until you ran away.

You had nowhere to stay for a while and then, when you turned sixteen, you moved out into a home designed for girls like you. It was a home for young women who went through abuse and this was exactly where, after several years, you reunited with Emma.

The facility provided excellent care for anyone who needed it but, on occasion, you felt somewhat worthless and ashamed about having lived there. Thus, you eventually took not one, but three jobs while furthering your studies at night through a state-run school. You moved out shortly after that and the college you went through helped you and Emma to apply for a scholarship abroad.

Together with eight other students in the state, you received some funding to attend different universities and schools across Europe, for which the ones based in Dublin became your choice.

Unlike London, Dublin was affordable for you both. You were now sharing a tiny studio apartment, and the money you received alongside your scholarship helped a lot.

You were an excellent dancer and, because of it, you now only had to have one rather than three jobs to support yourself, making your life relatively easy in comparison to your past.

In accordance to James and Lorraine however, who were rich and entitled, you still worked too hard. You had nothing in common with them and, even though James had been dating you for years, he always criticised you and your life choices.

He criticised you for having run away from your foster-home. He criticised you for working forty hours per week and he criticised you for saving money almost religiously.

On occasion, he also criticized your looks and the fact that you dressed too plainly. Your clothes were largely second hand, a mix of denim, sneakers, and plain coloured shirts. You owned two dresses, both black and wearing make-up was a rarity for you and you were told by your boyfriend that you should be making more of an effort for him.

But then, why should you? He never made an effort for you and being with him made you wonder whether you could ever leave your past behind. He had no idea how good his life had been while the memories of your past kept haunting you, playing with your mind.

You reflected on your past quite often. It was what kept you grounded even when you were around people like James and Lorraine. But speaking about this pain was something you struggled to do ever since you opened up to James about your upbringing. It was almost like he was embarrassed by you because if it and this hurt more than the bruises you sustained all those years ago.

Unfortunately for you though, reflecting on your past was something you were required to do as part of your first essay in PRAC300. You had to write about yourself, in a creative kind of way, drawing parallels between any painful events you encountered and a fictional character you were reading about. You had to write about how you felt in the midst of a difficult situation and then describe how you would show your emotions about such events in front of others.

Why this was relevant to your acting skills you did not know, but you wrote down what you thought anyway without putting much effort into your work. You made something up and when you submitted the paper to Cillian, you also chose to ask him about the curriculum for this unit moving forward. Again, you were playing with the idea of quitting now, but you weren’t quite sure how.

Until such day, you had largely ignored him and he had ignored you. In class, he pretended that you did not exist and rarely ever called you out to answer any questions. Without your knowledge though, this was his very own defence mechanism. It was his way of coping while he adjusted to the fact that he was meant to be teaching you now and by asking him about the essay and upcoming unit content, you took him off guard.

In addition to your questions about the curriculum though, today was also the day where, even if this particular essay was not in play, you could no longer have ignored him as, just last night, photos of him on a date with a fellow actress emerged on Twitter.

Of course, you took no interest in Twitter, but other disappointed students like Lorraine shared this information with you before class. The actresses’ name was Sophie O’Callum and she was currently filming in Dublin. Sophie was in her late thirties which, to you, seemed like an appropriate age for Cillian. She was blonde, skinny and incredibly good looking, creating a fair bit of jealously amongst your peers and this emerging jealousy quickly became evident to you during class.

Usurpingly, after hearing the news, Lorraine was rather upset about the date. She was now trying it on hard with your fellow lecturer and this, in itself, became amusing when Cillian shut her down.

It was obvious to you that he was annoyed by her and whilst you felt sorry for her, you also secretly enjoyed the fact that he retained his professionalism in class especially when Lorraine made advances towards him.

But, that’s not to say that you were not a little jealous too about Cillian’s date with an equally famous actress and you did not know why. You only ever slept with Cillian once and the fact that he was seeing someone else should not have bothered you. But did it. It upset you and, thus, when you finally walked into his office after class to ask him about the essay and unit content, you had to put on an act. You had to pretend that you did not care about his date and, for all you knew, he probably bought it.

***

“Hey Y/N, how can I help you?” Cillian asked after you walked into his office before shutting the door behind you.

“You look like you had a big night” you observed while watching him rub his eyes for the millionth time that day. He did this all throughout class and now he did it again, right in front of you.

“What makes you say that?” he wondered.

“You look a bit dusty” you pointed out with a giggle in order to lighten the mood.

“I may have had a few too many pints, but don’t tell the dean, alright?” Cillian teased, knowing that you would not say a word to the school’s principal.

“As if I would” you pointed out nonetheless before bringing up his date. “Although, you do realise that the pictures of you and Sophie O’Callum are all over the internet, right? You both looked drunk and knackered” you laughed but Cillian simply furrowed his eyebrows.

“Seriously?” he asked after picking up his phone and googling himself.

“Don’t you follow yourself on socials?” you wondered as you watched what he was doing.

“I don’t have social media” Cillian chuckled before telling you that he was too old for it, which was a comment that amused it.

“Oh please” you laughed which was when he quickly and somewhat unexpectedly addressed the rumours he was reading.

“Just for the record though, this was not a date. We went out for drinks and then we went our separate ways” he pointed out and, whilst you secretly felt relieved about what he was saying, you put on your acting hat and furrowed your eyebrows.

“And you are telling me this why?” you asked as if you were not interested in what he had to say and Cillian bought it and snapped out of it.

“Good question” he said before asking why you were in here to see him.

“I have a question about the essay which I handed in earlier today” you said before carrying on. “How are my emotions relevant to this class?” you asked and, before you could point out to him that you felt uncomfortable with the essay topic, Cillian began to explain.

“Well, learning how to act starts with learning about emotions and how to display them on screen or on stage. Often actors can draw from their own experiences and…” he said just before you interrupted him.

“But this stuff is personal” you blurted out to which Cillian simply shrug his shoulders.

“It’s part of the curriculum Y/N. I didn’t write those essay templates. I don’t even get to grade them” he informed you, causing you to sigh.

“But you will read them?” you wondered.

“Yes. I will read them and then pass them on for grading, with my comments…” Cillian began to explain and you interrupted him again.

“Fuck” you spat. “We slept with each other and I don’t want you to know about my past and my fucking emotions” you told him and, to your surprise, Cillian reacted in a gentle kind of way.

“Y/N, I won’t judge you for whatever happened to you in the past. What you write in your essay is confidential and whether we slept with each other or not is irrelevant. We both agreed to put this one-night stand behind us and that is what I am doing, alright?” he said and this was all you needed to hear before storming out of his office.

Three days later…

Three days had passed and, like most Mondays, you arrived at school early that morning. You had just been for a run, showered and sat down with your lunchbox, which is when you saw Cillian walk into the lecture hall with a cup of coffee in his hand.

He was surprised to see you there and, after putting down his mug, he approached you.

“Y/N,” he murmured almost nervously.

“Cillian. Good Morning” you smiled and, after engaging in a little small talk, he addressed the elephant in the room.

“After class, could we, maybe, talk about your essay submission please” was what he said and your heart immediately skipped a beat.

“Yes. Sure. I will see you at your office then? What time works for you?” was your response and, within seconds, you locked in a time while, the truth was, that you had no idea about what you were going to tell him. What was it that he needed to hear from you, you wondered? The truth? You weren’t going to give him that. He was better off failing you and get the professor to give you a bad grade.

So clearly, this was not going to go anywhere and, just as you were sitting in Cillian’s class again, you reflected on all the pain you felt when thinking back at when you were a young teenager.

It was this kind of pain you did not want him to know about so you sat there, awkwardly, like a pathetic loser, raising your hand, answering questions, to make up the credits that you would need after he failed your essay.

You put on act and, luckily for you, he never called you out that day. He left you be, sitting quietly at the back of the class room and then, without giving it any thought whatsoever, you were the first one out the door after a two-hour session, wanting to avoid him at all cost.

Yes, you needed to go and see him at his office. But you had no intention to actually do so, at least not now while your heart was racing and anxiety took over your anxious brain. You had no idea what to tell him and simply wanted to be left alone right now.

“Will I see you in ten?” Cillian reminded you nonetheless in passing as the students behind you were all hanging back, chatting and joking with the others. Lorraine, in particular, attempted to put on an act of her own, flirting with Cillian again.

“Yes, I will see you then” you confirmed nervously before you quickly made your way to the ladies room.

The lady’s lavatory followed a dull theme of light green. It was dated and made you feel a little nauseous.

You were nervous about meeting with Cillian about your essay and thus splashed some cold water on to your face before taking deep breaths. Then, when you looked into the mirror you saw the ghost of a girl who had died a long time ago.

Your face was gaunt and all your features were sunken in. Your eyes, once your best feature, were the only things that seemed to stand out now, as if you were just that, all vacant and lifeless. There was nothing else to look at. You were already disappearing and realised that you were all bones and baggage now, made up of shadows and secrets and nothing, nothing at all.

Then, you recalled what your dance coach had said to you just recently, telling you that you were one of the best dancers in class, but you lacked emotion. You lacked expression and you certainly lacked happiness. It was obvious to him, which is why he suggested an acting class to you. But perhaps acting skills were not what you needed. Perhaps you simply needed some happiness in your life, but felt as though you were not entitled to it.

Then you remembered, that, just a few weeks ago, you did feel alive and happy for one night only and this was the night you had spent with Cillian.

It was strange, exciting and sensual and certainly felt different to when you were with James who did not help the way you felt within your own body. You were insecure and, at least in your mind, there was nothing special about you.

Being with James was like a bad habit, just like smoking. You kept him around and went back to him simply for the fact that he provided something to you which you were familiar with. He provided structure, security and you adored his family.

But he did not excite you. Life did not excite you. It never did. It was painful to be who you were and, thus, you wanted to break every mirror in the bathroom. Every time you saw yourself you saw the sad little girl you used to be and still were, caught in this viscous cycle of negative thoughts. You were afraid to take risks because it had been enshrined in to you throughout foster care that taking risks was wrong. You lacked your very own family and love and often wondered whether your life would change one day.

Then, eventually, you locked yourself into a stall to get away from your reflection. You knew that you were nearing another mental breakdown any minute now and began to scream, quietly, but loud enough for others to hear.

It was quarter past ten now and you had been there, inside the lavatory stall, for fifteen minutes. You put your head in your hands, your fingernails digging into your face, wanting to scream but not having the nerve to do it.

Traumatising thoughts about your past visited you just like bad dreams did at night. You were losing your mind or maybe you have lost it already.

Some time passed, but you could not tell how much. You just let yourself slip away from reality for a bit but then, suddenly, the sound of the restroom door swishing open made you jump, startling you out of your mad, mad thoughts. A familiar pair of brown leather shoes came to stop outside of your stall.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" were the words you heard next and, suddenly, time slowed. Your skin burned and your voice was shaky when you spoke.

"Please go. You are not meant to be in here" you said although you were not even sure if you really wanted him to, but you said it anyways.

"But I am in here now and I am not leaving. Lorraine said that you have been in the lavatory for over half an hour. So, please come out before I tare the door open and embarrass myself in front of the entire school” Cillian chuckled, but with great concern in his voice. He knew that you were simply hiding in there and he was clearly worried about you and your wellbeing.

“Fuck. Seriously?” you stammered as you got up slowly and opened the stall door.

“Yes! Seriously Y/N! Clearly, you are avoiding me and I thought that we talked about everything that we needed to talk about. But, I supppose I was wrong as, first, you submit this ridiculous paper to me and now you are hiding from me…’ Cillian then said quietly as he was facing away from you in what you presumed to be an effort to give you some privacy, but his eyes then met yours when you looked in the reflection of the mirror.

You saw yourself too, standing in front of him with tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, fuck, are you okay? Did something happen? Should I call the student counsellor?” Cillian then asked anxiously when he noticed your tears and you tried to hold his gaze, but his eyes were too intense so you looked down at the tiled floor.

"God no, please. I just had a moment. I am okay” you stammered quickly but Cillian looked sceptical.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he then asked politely but you shook your head.

“I think I embarrassed myself enough already” you then told him but his eyebrows furrowed quickly.

“You are afraid of your own emotions and I get that. Most people are. But you know what I have learned throughout many years of acting?” Cillian said quietly again but, this time, with a warm and gentle smile.

“What?” you asked, wondering where he was going with this.

“That accepting and dealing with your emotions is an integral part of life. Unless you do that, you are not going to be happy and you most certainly will struggle with the line of work you chose. So, if you need to talk with someone about the way you feel, then talk to me. I am here to listen and what happened between us doesn’t matter, alright? I am not the kind of person who sees things superficially and, I don’t know why, but I do care about you. I want you to be okay” Cillian then explained while gently rubbing his palms over your upper arms and you were glad for his words and the way he spoke them, in a gentle and caring way.

“Thank you, Cillian” you cried before taking a deep breath. “Can I redo my paper?” you then asked. You still did not want to talk with him about your past just yet and hoped that he would accept your offer in lieu of an explanation as to why you were so anxious right now.

“I was hoping that you would and I want you to know that, when you do, I will not judge you or think any less of you for what you write” Cillian reassured you and, after you gave him a quick nod and wiped away your tears, he walked towards the door of the lavatory and held it open for you.

“Can you redo the paper by Wednesday? I need to pass it on to the unit co-ordinator” Cillian then said with a slight chuckle and unbothered by the fact that he just came walking out of the ladies’ bathroom with you.

“I can. And I am sorry for my slobby work” you then said and Cillian smiled. God, he was so beautiful and you stared shamelessly at him. He should not have become a lecturer at school full of young female students. Temptation was going to come knocking at his door, hordes of twenty something year olds begging to be noticed, to be loved, to be fucked. It was insanity and, just like Lorraine and some others, you wanted him and that was another form of madness.

A few days later…

Eventually, Wednesday came about and, when it did, your first stop was at Cillian’s office. You had promised to hand in your revised paper by nine and so you did.

This time, your effort was six pages long and included a large spiel about the foster care system in the US and how it shaped you from an emotional perspective.

It also included an array of emotions you believed many others like you felt when dealing with every-day life and you drew an analysis about them to the character you read about.

It was a paper which you had prepared with great care and thought and, in the end, the references to pieces of literature within your writing impressed Cillian so much so that, on Thursday evening, he sent you a message on the school’s online portal.

“I am impressed. This was certainly worth the wait” he said with an emoji on the end and his message certainly made you laugh.

“I am glad, because it wasn’t easy to write knowing that you would be the one reading it” you responded quickly after you saw Cillian’s message pop up as a notification on your phone at around 10 o’clock that night and, the fact that he wrote to you that late made you wondered whether he was thinking about you.

Clearly, he had read the paper on Wednesday morning already before making his notes on it and sending it to the unit co-ordinator, so why did he only message you now? There must have been a reason for it, right?

Unbeknownst to you, there was most certainly a reason behind this message. Cillian had, indeed, been thinking about you and the truth was that he was taken by what you wrote in your essay.

He saw the care you took in writing down your every thought and your very own emotions and, whilst he could sense that you were hurt by the system, he did not consider you to be weak. To the contrary, he considered you to be much stronger than you thought yourself you were. You took matters into your own hands after the system had failed you. Unlike James, Cillian was impressed by your courage and soon realised why it was you who had been chosen for the scholarship.

You were determined and, whilst you struggled to come to terms with your feelings about what happened to you, you were emotionally intelligent. You knew what you needed to do and you knew about the bad influences in your life. You just had to act upon your desires, follow your goals and leave your pain and restraints in past.

As such, Cillian had nothing to add to your paper and thought about it every night since. There was something about you which intrigued him even more now and his thoughts about you were not just sexual anymore. His interest in you was on a different kind of level now and the feelings he was starting to have for you bothered him, causing him to supress his very own emotions.

He had to put on an act of his own, pretending that he was not interested in you but, every time he had a pint with his best mate Dermont, Cillian’s true feelings surfaced as, suddenly, the conversations they shared were about you.

Even though Cillian assured him that he had forgotten all about your short lived fling, Dermont did not believe him as his friend spoke about you with a lot of admiration.

In addition to that, Dermont also knew that Cillian was not the type of guy who would engage in one-night stands and then never think about them again. He must have liked you if he took you home, to his house that night. And he most certainly had not forgotten about you now that you were his student as every conversation about his work was also about you, your talent and the way you interacted with him.

A few days later…

Eventually, Friday came around and it was another day where you had a lecture in PRAC300 before commencing your on-stage experience for which you were each given an on-stage character role and a script to read.

The roles were allocated randomly and when you were assigned the role of a mother who had recently lost her child, you could not help but sigh. It was not a role you were confident to act out and, yet, you knew that you had no choice. You had to take the role just as the other students had to take theirs. This included James who, also, ended up with a role that he was unhappy about but, unlike you, he spoke about it in Cillian’s class.

“Cillian, man, I think there is a mistake” he said in an arrogant way. “This role should be given to a girl” James determined, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

“Why?” Cillian asked, seeing that James had been drawn for the role of a character named Tina.

“Because Tina is a girl. I am playing a fucking girl” James laughed but Cillian did not think that his comment was funny and neither did you.

“Not exactly James. The role is non-binary” Cillian explained before telling him that this was an acting class. “It is important for you to step out of your comfort zone” Cillian furthermore said before pointing out that two female students in the class are portraying male characters as well.

“Now, if I can get everyone to schedule a time with me for the next week so that we can go through your role, one on one, that would be fantastic. I intend to allocate half an hour to each student” Cillian said and, of course, Lorraine and some of the other female students were quick to snap up the first available spots, leaving them with next to no time to prepare.

Luckily for Lorraine, she was portraying a young female teacher who was in love with her student. It was a role based on a book you had read quite recently and the fact that she got this role was rather amusing to you. She had an interest in Cillian and it was basically a matter of roles in reverse, if only Cillian had known.

When it was finally your turn to book in a time with Cillian however, you realised that your work schedule clashed with his remaining availabilities and it was at this point that he made an exception for you which was something that got you talking.

“I give dance classes from 3 o’clock to 6 o’clock each day and I cannot get out of them. It pays the bills and I am teaching ten teens for their upcoming dance competition in Cork so I have no idea what to do” you told him after the last student left the room and, sure enough, he remembered your passion for dancing.

“You teach dance? I did not know that. Are you enjoying it?” Cillian asked surprised and you nodded.

“Yes. I love it” you told him while he looked at his calendar.

“Alright, so how about 7 o’clock on Thursday then? It is after hours but I could come in and see you here” Cillian offered and you were surprised by his suggestion.

“Is that not too late for you?” you wondered, knowing that he had children as well.

“Well, generally speaking, Thursdays and Fridays are good for me. My ex has the kids those days and, even if they were to come over, they are old enough to look after themselves for an hour or two” Cillian responded before telling you that they often do their own thing now that they are older, meeting up with friends after school and playing games at the local arcade.

“So, where do you teach dancing?” Cillian then wanted to know, being more chatty than usual.

“At the Dublin School of Dance. I teach contemporary dance and ballet” you told Cillian who, again furrowed his eyebrows.

“My daughter goes to that school twice a week” Cillian told you before showing you a photograph of her which he took during her last class.

“No way! I think I have met your daughter then” you said while Cillian was sliding through the photographs and you could immediately see the resembles of him in his daughter. They had the same pale freckled skin and light-coloured hair.

“Really?” he asked with great surprise and a hint of concern.

“Yes. She is in Miriam Mill’s class, isn’t she?” you asked and Cillian nodded before telling you that Miriam was leaving soon. She had an offer from another Dance School in London which she took.

“She is leaving, yes. But, your daughter will get another pretty awesome teacher soon, so don’t you worry” you then teased and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows quickly.

“Really? Is that new teacher good?” he asked without realising that you were going to be his daughter’s new teacher.

“She is the best” you joked before telling him that you would be taking on the classes for her age group in a couple of weeks.

“Talking about awkwardness” Cillian then said with concern, seeing that this may become a little weird but, to you, it meant nothing. If anything, you were looking forward to meeting Cillian’s daughter properly and preparing her for the dance competitions.

“Yeah, I mean, you could enrol her into another dance school if you like” you said nonetheless but he chuckled.

“And explain this to my ex how?” Cillian asked while cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, you could tell her that you slept with the ballet teacher who also happens to be your student at drama school. I am sure that would make quite a story” you joked and Cillian quickly reminded you to be discreet.

“Y/N, please…” he said while you laughed.

“God, relax Cillian. I am going to make sure that she has fun and excels with her routine for the finals. There is no bad blood between us and, like I said, nothing ever happened right? It was just sex, a one off, that is it. No one will ever know about it. My lips are sealed” you promised him and Cillian gave you a reluctant nod.

“Yes, it was just sex” he repeated quietly after ensuring that there was no one around. “So, Thursday, 7 o’clock then?” he then asked and you confirmed.

“Yes, 7 o’clock is great. Thank you. But I must go now. I am already late for training. Thanks Cillian” you said before grabbing your things and walking through the door.

To be continued… Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please! Tag List

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x oc

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wistfulcynic · 4 months ago

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i teach english as a foreign language to corporate clients. What that means is that companies hire the school i contract for to enrol their employees in courses that include a run of online grammar, vocabulary, listening, and reading exercises; accompanying speaking classes with a teacher (that's where i come in); and supplementary "skills" exercises including writing.

the *only* one of these that matters to their ultimate success or failure in their course is the online exercises. That's bad for a number of reasons i won't bore you with but tl;dr the students "pass" the class if they complete the online course.

which means that the supplementary writing exercises have ZERO impact on their success or failure. They aren't even required. The ONLY reason to complete them is to practice writing as a skill and get feedback from a teacher (me et al). Mistakes are corrected but never criticised. This isn't a scenario where anyone loses face by using the wrong preposition or verb tense. It's an opportunity to practice and improve, that's all.

and yet. Increasingly i am getting writing assignments that are clearly, obviously written by genAI. They are grammatically flawless in a way that is impossible for students at the levels i teach to produce. Which means there's nothing to correct. No feedback to give. No learning opportunity whatsoever.

my school's policy is just to ignore this. Our students aren't students in the traditional sense, they are clients. More precisely, they're employees of clients but the effect is the same. Their employers are paying us for the expertise, guidance, etc that we can provide and if they choose not to make full use of what we offer then that's their call.

still it pisses me off. Because why. Why use genAI to complete an optional exercise that has no impact on your ultimate course success? There is zero reason to do that. No benefit to anyone. The students learn nothing and i get paid to make up some bullshit "feedback" to a paragraph i know the student didn't write. Why? Why waste all our time with an obvious farce?

(i mean, i know why. Because it's easy. Because they believe that the product and not the process is what's important. Because they don't want to learn, they want to have learned. They are the ones who are always trying to get me to reveal some secret magic trick that will make them able to speak perfectly without them putting any effort into it whatsoever. They are, if i tell the stark honest truth, on the whole not people i can help.)

this is, ultimately, why i am against any and all use of genAI in education. Full stop. There's simply no pedagogical benefit to it. The learning process involves trying, failing, receiving correction, and then trying again. Over and over and over if necessary. We have already seriously damaged this process by caring only about results--test scores, essay marks, etc, achieved by any means necessary--and forgetting both as students and teachers that failure (or at least not perfect success the very first time) is an essential element of learning. Use of genAI skips over the learning process entirely. It basically finishes what years of over-testing and grade inflation started. It's bad and it's wrong and it accomplishes nothing other than giving people more of an excuse not to think for themselves, not to try, not to learn.

it needs to be stopped.

#ai #anti-ai #genai #anti genai #ai in education #takes that are controversial but should not be

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bromfieldhall · 2 months ago

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All’s Fair in Love and War

Read from the start on AO3 or here:

Prologue

Chapter 2 - In The Trenches

Penelope stared at the reflection in the looking glass and barely recognised herself. The pale green dress with embroidered floral accents she wore flattered her figure exceedingly. Her hair, usually tightly curled, hung in loose waves around her face and down her back, cleverly concealing the reasonably sized lump she still had from the accident.

It was due to her injury that she had asked her maid, Rae, for no hair adornments. Her head was still very tender and she had no wish to exacerbate it any further.

It had been nearly a week since she’d awoken. Although she had been allowed to rise and sit by her bed for the last couple of days, it was the first time that she’d felt able to actually get dressed.

It had also been the first time that she’d had a chance to get to her Whistledown sheets and read them. Something that she’d been wanting to do ever since she’d woken up because, in addition to her physical injury, she’d found that there was the very troubling problem of her memory being…hazy, as well.

Frighteningly so, in fact.

For she had little to no recollection of anything that had happened since she’d returned to London.

Oh, there were vague flashes of colours; images that hovered on the edges of her mind before slipping away unrealised and, for some inexplicable reason, arms, seemed important. Even so, recollections were elusive, to say the least.

It was vexing.

She stared down at the papers she held in her hand and read them again. Nothing made sense. Nor did her writings marry up with what her mama had been telling her ever since she’d awoken. For there was no mention of her new wardrobe…nor her new suitor.

One, Lord Debling.

His name did not prompt any memories whatsoever and yet her mother could not stop talking about him. How he was rich and had a large estate. How he had the best manners and was so handsome.

And to top it all off, this paragon of perfection had been the one to save her when she’d had her accident.

What a shame then, that she could not remember him at all – nor had deemed him enough of note to have even made mention of him thus far.

She raised a hand to her head and briefly closed her eyes against the dull ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence.

In truth, she had been finding everything a trifle overwhelming. Between her mother’s constant talk and her loss of memory, it had felt like she’d been fighting to keep her head above water for the past six days.

Especially as she hadn’t told anyone of her predicament. Not all of it, anyway. She had informed the doctor that she couldn’t recall her accident and he had said that it wasn’t an unusual occurrence considering her injury. He’d added that he supposed her recollection would return in time.

She sincerely hoped that the same would be true for the rest of her memories as well. The secret weighed heavily on her mind and she knew she ought to let everyone know about her quandary, but she could never find the right time. That’s what she’d convinced herself of anyway. In truth, she simply did not want to have to admit to her family that she had more of a problem than they’d realised. Lord knows her mother and her sisters needed very little encouragement to criticise everything she did at the best of times. Now at one of her worst, there was no doubt in her mind that they’d likely consider her memory loss as yet another flaw to ridicule.

And that is why she’d been so eager to read her sheets. She’d hoped that they would provide an insight as to what had been happening with herself and Lord Debling, because surely she would have written something, even if it had been in the form of a slight.

And yet there was nothing. Not about Debling anyway.

No, apart from the usual observations on this season’s debutantes, a few salacious bits of gossip and the trifling matter of issuing a challenge to the Queen, it seemed that the only person she had particularly written about in relation to herself was…Colin Bridgerton.

And what a thing she had written. First there had been rather harsh criticism of a new persona and then a withering account of his helping her to find a husband.

Well, it seems he had certainly succeeded in that regard and yet the knowledge brought her nothing but feeling of complete dejection.

Honestly, it wasn’t as if she needed any further confirmation to add to the damning indictment he’d uttered at her mama’s ball last season when he’d loudly proclaimed he’d never court her. But if there were ever to be a last nail so firmly struck into the coffin of her unrequited love for him, it would be his actively pushing her into the path of another man.

She let out a sudden huff of annoyance and turned away from the mirror to go and sit on her bed. Her hope that Whistledown would clear everything up had only made things cloudier than before.

When had she and Colin become friends again? Why had she allowed it to happen?

She had purposely not responded to any of his correspondence during his time away. She’d not even read them for fear that she might relent and send a letter back. Instead, she’d hidden them away with her Whistledown money and tried to forget all about them. And him.

What had made her change her mind then, to allow him back into her favour? To have her accept an offer of his help? To find a husband for her, no less?

She looked down at her dress. It could explain her entirely new wardrobe at least.

Was that at his suggestion or hers?

Her head started to throb. There were so many questions and no way to find the answers it seemed. Had she still been friends with Eloise, she could have asked her without anyone else knowing. However, considering the lack of any correspondence from that particular Bridgerton since her accident, she assumed they were still not on good terms.

She glanced over at a small bouquet of bluebells and lily of the valley that sat in a vase near her bed and reached out to touch one of the blooms. These were another part of the never-ending puzzle she was trying to solve. The flowers were starting to wilt now. The petals drooping and turning brown with age. The sweet scent fading away.

They had been delivered the day after she’d woken up, but she hadn’t noticed them then. Those first couple of days she’d mainly spent in and out of slumber. When she finally was able to stay awake for longer periods and had seen the beautiful blooms, she’d asked Rae who they were from. It had been a shock to discover that it was Colin who had brought them.

By hand, no less and not delivered by a florist.

She absolutely wasn’t going to read anything into it of course. Colin had his own sense of propriety as she well knew. The flowers meant nothing more than a get-well gift to a ‘friend’. As did the note he’d sent enquiring after her health.

And yet, her heart had still beaten that little bit faster. The hope she’d squashed down had still given a determined flutter. The love she’d tried to abandon had still clung onto her soul just that tiny bit tighter.

Really, she supposed in hindsight, it was no surprise that she’d apparently let Colin back into her life. She was, is and always would be completely in love with the man.

A knock on the door broke into her thoughts and she quickly put the Whistledown sheets under her pillow then called out for the person to come in.

“You have a visitor, Miss,” Rae announced with a small smile as she entered the room.

Penelope felt her stomach drop a little. Her mother had informed her earlier, as they’d broken their fast, that Lord Debling would be paying her a call that afternoon.

She glanced at the clock on the mantlepiece and saw that it wasn’t quite yet calling hour.

He was keen at least.

That knowledge should have made her feel better, but it really didn’t. It merely made her feel anxious. Made her realise that this was all very real. That she had a suitor. One she couldn’t remember.

“Thank you,” she murmured, giving her maid a nod.

She stood and glanced at herself in the mirror one last time before following Rae out of her bed chamber.

As they neared the drawing room, the growing trepidation of the upcoming encounter had her feet faltering to a stop. Was she ready for this? Could she not feign feeling unwell still? It wouldn’t be so very far from the truth, she decided, as her stomach began to churn.

“Miss?”

Penelope stared at her maid’s concerned face a moment then summoned a smile and nodded. She could do this.

Bracing herself, she straightened up, took a breath and forced herself forward, her stride slow but determined. Rae opened the door then stood back so that Penelope could enter the room.

She hadn’t gone two paces when she came to an abrupt halt and stared at the last person she’d expected to see seated on one of the settee’s.

“Colin?”

She stared at him and blinked. He looked well. Very well. His skin lightly bronzed. Curly hair slightly longer. His features slightly sharper than the last memories she had of him. He had matured physically during his time away, that was obvious.

His attire had also changed. No longer in boyish bright colours, he sat before her in dark blues and a stylish waistcoat of silver-grey tones.

It suited him very well indeed.

He had been looking at a rather garish painting on the wall but upon hearing her voice, his gaze snapped to hers and a ready smile immediately formed on his lips.

“Pen,” he greeted happily, rising quickly to his feet. He closed the distance between them in three eager strides and came to a stop just in front of her. His hands reached out as though to take hold of hers but then, as if remembering propriety, they dropped back to his sides and he cleared his throat a little. “It is good to see you.”

The warmth in his voice washed over her and, for a moment, her heart responded to it as it always had. Fluttering over his words, skipping a beat as if it meant more.

Then she froze as she remembered Whistledown and how he was helping her find a husband.

Swiftly after that came the crushing memory of his scathing words that she’d overheard during her mama’s ball, the pain of them suddenly as fresh as if he’d uttered them mere moments before.

Her feelings jumbled around in her faltering head, each warring for supremacy. Love, anger, humiliation…hurt.

So much hurt.

And the overwhelming sting of rejection.

“Is it?” she suddenly bit out curtly.

She saw his brows rise in surprise and then a puzzled frown settled upon his handsome face.

“Truly,” he replied slowly, “I-We have all been worried about you.”

Penelope gave him a brittle smile.

“I thank you for your concern, Mr Bridgerton, but as you can see, I am quite over my accident,” she informed him primly.

His eyes narrowed at her tone. He was clearly confused and she couldn’t blame him. Not really. She hardly knew herself what she was about, her emotions were so all over the place.

“Pen, is something wrong?” he ventured carefully. He took a step closer and tilted his head slightly as he stared into her eyes. “You do not seem quite yourself.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she retorted defensively. “Of course I am myself. Who else would I be?”

His lips quirked up into a wry smile at that and this time when he moved, it was to take a gentle hold of one of her hands.

She tensed and looked down, belatedly realising that her maid was no longer in the room with them. Oh Lord. She knew she shouldn’t allow his touch, but it just felt so warm and so soothing. So…right. Indeed, it was the first time since she’d awoken that she’d had any real sense of comfort. Of calm. A certainty, almost, that everything would be well.

She almost let out a laugh at that thought.

How was it that the one person with whom she could find such peace, could also be the one person that, conversely, stirred up quite the opposite feeling in her?

It was truly exasperating.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she glanced up at him to see an apologetic smile now gracing his full lips.

“Forgive me,” he replied as he leaned in towards her a little. A subtle hint of bergamot and musk reached her nose and she had to stop herself from taking a deep breath of him in as he continued ruefully, “Only, this feels very much like when I first returned from my tour and you were, understandably, very angry with me over my careless words last season. I had thought that as we’d talked everything out between us, we were well now. It is clear, however, that there is something else bothering you, Penelope.”

She shook her head. That at least explained why they were friends again. They had talked and she had forgiven him it seemed. She was pleased that it sounded as though she had held him to account and, in turn, felt a vast amount of her unhappiness suddenly ease. She took no pleasure in being at odds with him even if he did not realise that they still were - in her head anyway.

“I’m sure I do not know what you mean,” she replied, trying to sound dismissive.

She knew she had failed when he continued to stare back at her and his frown returned.

“Is it to do with your accident?” he asked suddenly. He looked down then, his hand tightening around hers slightly as he added with an almost guilty edge, “My mother told me that you did not remember any of it, but…”

“I do not,” she answered, wondering at his odd tone as he trailed off. “I only know what my mother has told me.”

His gaze returned to hers, searching for the truth of her words and then his shoulders slumped a little.

“Well, if it is not that, then have I done something else to offend you?” he queried in bafflement.

“No! No, of course not,” she refuted quickly and pulled her hand from his grasp.

She felt the loss of his touch immediately, but she couldn’t think properly when he was that close. Putting some distance between them, she fidgeted with her hair, running a light hand over the bump there. Her head still hurt and she closed her eyes with a slight grimace. She was starting to think that she might be better off going back to her bed chamber instead.

“You are not well, Pen. Please, let me call your maid.”

Opening her eyes, she saw him standing right before her, concern etched all over his face. He was so close again and his gaze was so tender, so kind and his eyes were so…so…

‘Your eyes are the most remarkable shade of blue. Yet, somehow, they shine even brighter when you are kind.’

Words. Her words. Her voice. Them standing together in the drawing room of Bridgerton House. The memory burst forth so quickly that she drew in a sharp breath. Oh.

“Pen?”

Colin took a step forward, worry deepening on his features as he reached out to take both of her hands this time.

She stared back at him, the moment in time replaying in her head. It was…a lesson? He was merely helping her. It did not mean anything. Not to him anyway. It was just further proof that he held no such idea of her above being his friend.

But, oh, it had meant everything to her. A few scant seconds when she could tell him the truth. Reveal her feelings without worry of rejection or discourse.

It had been…freeing.

“I remember,” she breathed out softly.

He stiffened then, his hands clenching around hers as his face suddenly assumed an impassive look.

“You remember? The accident?” he asked a trifle guardedly.

She shook her head.

“No, something else.”

She said it without thought and only belatedly realised that she had likely given herself away.

There was a moment’s pause as he stared at her clearly trying to comprehend what she was saying and then his eyes widened.

“Something else? Do you mean to tell me that you have forgotten more than just the accident?” he questioned, shock colouring his tone.

She was tempted to deny it but there was a part of her that desperately wanted to tell someone. Tell him.

“Yes,” she finally admitted tautly before rushing on, eager to get it all out now that she’d started, “But I have not told my mother. I have not told anyone. You are the only one who knows. Please do not say anything.”

She’d practically begged the last part and was relieved to see Colin nodding almost at once.

“Of course,” he assured her with a tentative, but gentle smile. “You know you can trust me.”

She did. Despite her feelings for him, they were friends after all. Perhaps her only friend now as things stood. And it felt good to share her burden with him. She didn’t know how, but he would help her, she was sure.

“Thank you,” she murmured gratefully and gave him a hesitant smile back.

Some emotion flickered briefly across his face that she couldn’t quite define but then it was gone and he was smiling more assuredly at her.

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“Nothing since we returned to Mayfair,” she confessed with a sigh.

He seemed to pale a little at that, his smile wavering somewhat before he drew in a steadying breath and nodded.

“All will be well, Pen, I’m sure of it,” he told her kindly. “You are already starting to recall things. What is it that came back to you just now? Lady Danbury’s ball, perhaps? I might be able to fill in some gaps if so.”

Heat started to invade her cheeks and she gave a little cough then shook her head, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. Pulling her hands from his grasp again, she stepped back and let out a strained sort of laugh that only furthered her internal embarrassment.

“Uh, no, it was nothing of import,” she told him and took another step backwards.

Colin looked unsure whether to press her further and she shook her head again. She couldn’t tell him, even though it was he that had been on the receiving end of her compliment. It had caused acute discomfiture for both of them at the time from her recollection. She didn’t feel like inviting the same again.

A clock nearby suddenly chimed on the hour, drawing their attention and it was swiftly followed by the sound of rapid footsteps and voices along the corridor outside.

“It is Mama,” Penelope told him in an urgent whisper.

Colin nodded and moved further away from her towards the settee just as Lady Featherington opened the door and swept hurriedly into the room.

“Penelope, make haste…” she began, then stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Colin. “Mr Bridgerton,” she greeted half-heartedly, “What a…pleasant surprise.”

Clearly by her tone, it wasn’t and both Penelope and Colin knew it too.

“Lady Featherington, it is good to see you,” he responded politely and bowed. “I am just here visiting with your daughter after her accident. My family were all very concerned for her wellbeing.”

“Well, that is very considerate of you, Mr Bridgerton and as you can see Penelope is quite well now,” she replied, gesturing vaguely in her direction. “But it is calling hour and we are expecting Lord Debling to pay a visit.”

Colin felt a spark of annoyance ignite in his gut. He was being dismissed and he did not like it one little bit.

Still, Portia clearly did not think too much of propriety, having walked in on Penelope and him alone together, so why should he?

Without even truly thinking about what it’d mean, his head followed his heart. He summoned a smile in Lady Featherington’s direction, then made a show of sitting down.

He heard Penelope audibly gasp and shot her a quick reassuring glance before turning back to Portia.

“Well, it is a happy coincidence, is it not, that I am calling on your daughter at the appropriate time then,” he told her affably.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Penelope’s mouth drop open in surprise at his words, but he determinedly kept his focus on her mother instead. He took a great deal of satisfaction upon seeing the slow, red stain of ire rise hotly up the older woman’s cheeks. She looked incensed at his actions but as he steeled himself for whatever retort she’d been preparing to deliver, her housekeeper, Varley, knocked on the door and walked in.

It seemed that Debling had arrived. He was punctual, he’d give the man that at least.

He watched him enter and exchange the usual pleasantries with both Portia and Penelope and then he turned his attention to him. Debling hid it well, but Colin could tell he wasn’t happy at seeing him there.

Good.

“Mr Bridgerton,” he acknowledged curtly.

Colin bristled at the obvious slight to his lack of a title and gave him a cursory nod back.

He looked over at Penelope as the gentleman sat down on the other end of the settee he already occupied. She was gazing at Debling with a slight frown but, as far as he could tell, there was no recognition on her part.

Suddenly, she glanced over at him and he raised a brow in question before darting a look at Debling and back to her. She gave the slightest shake of her head in negation, confirming his suspicions.

She had no memory of Debling at all.

He allowed himself a tight smile. It was a knowledge that pleased him excessively.

Tea was sent for and Colin spent the next thirty minutes or so in what was, quite frankly, a self-inflicted purgatory.

Maintaining an outward façade of polite interest proved harder than he’d envisioned as he sat through Portia extolling, rather effusively, the many virtues of Debling while said Lord modestly accepted her praise. And the role of Penelope’s saviour.

Apparently, his running to her after she’d been hit was deemed heroic in Lady Featherington’s eyes.

He might have laughed at the ridiculousness of them both if he hadn’t also been trying to temper the added guilt he now felt after hearing Penelope’s startling revelation.

Into all this he offered little to the conversation. A few words to Portia, a few more to Penelope, but absolutely nothing to Debling.

It was petty of him, he knew, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

And all the while his concerned gaze kept straying to his beautiful red-haired friend who unknowingly held his heart. She had been looking paler as the minutes ticked on, her hand touching her head more and more frequently. It was clear she was in some discomfort but didn’t want to say anything. He tried to catch her eye on more than one occasion, but when he saw her visibly wince, he could remain silent no more.

“You seem in pain, Pen,” he said, worry outweighing propriety as he rose from his seat. “Perhaps it would be best if we took our leave so that you may get some rest.”

He shot Debling a look and to his credit, the other man immediately stood and nodded his agreement.

“It is true, you do not look at all well, Miss Featherington,” he concurred, his eyes raking over her face and taking in her wan appearance.

“Oh, I’m sure she is fine, my Lord,” Portia interjected quickly with a bright smile. She turned to her daughter with an expectant look. “Tell him, Penelope, you are quite well, are you not?”

Penelope opened her mouth to reply but all that came out was a low groan as she placed her hand once more to her head and closed her eyes with a grimace.

“I think you’ll find you have your answer, Lady Featherington,” Colin replied curtly, giving her a stern look.

“Indeed,” Debling asserted with a nod.

Faced with both men in agreement, Portia forced a smile to her lips.

“You are right of course, gentlemen,” she conceded.

Her attempt at graciousness fell short to Colin’s ears but at least she wouldn’t make Penelope sit there any longer. It was clear she was unwell and it was all he could do to stop himself taking her hand and offering even a modicum of comfort.

Heaven knows, her own mother wouldn’t do it.

Penelope mumbled out an apology that both men assured her was not needed and then they took their leave.

Once outside, Debling placed his hat, that he’d collected along with his gloves on the way out, firmly upon his head and turned to Colin.

“I must say, I was not expecting to see you here today, Bridgerton,” he remarked with an assessing look. “I’m not blind. I had noticed there was some…affection on your part, but I had been most assured that it was nothing more than friendship between the two of you at most.”

Not sure how he could respond to that honestly, Colin merely stared back at him and raised a brow.

Debling smirked.

“Indeed, when Lady Featherington very kindly kept me informed, almost daily, by letter as to Miss Featherington’s recovery, it was my understanding that I would be her only suitor.”

Colin felt his stomach lurch a little at that revelation. Debling had been personally kept informed while he had had to learn any sparse news through his mother.

Debling’s smile turned smug and he looked down as he began to tug on the black gloves he carried.

“It matters not, of course. I don’t see anything in her demeanour that suggests Miss Featherington feels anything for you in return. If I did, I would not continue my suit. With as large an estate to manage such as mine and the length of time I shall be from home, I am in need of a woman whose affection I am certain does not lie elsewhere. A woman who will entertain herself, by herself, until I return. Miss Featherington will do very well, I think.”

Colin’s jaw clenched in aggravation as he fought hard to keep his composure. Glaring balefully at the man, he bit back the scathing retort that lay on the tip of his tongue, dying to be released. It was becoming rapidly clear to him that what Debling really wanted was a housekeeper and bed warmer. It was most certainly not a wife.

And it most certainly was not going to be Penelope. Not if he could help it.

Gloves now on, Debling stared out across the square and took in a deep, fortifying breath. Exhaling slowly, he glanced over at Colin once more.

“Just a word of advice before you decide whether to continue your suit,” he warned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Perhaps you should stop and consider what you have to offer Miss Featherington.” He paused. “Then consider what I have to offer Miss Featherington.” Another pause. “I think you will find that there simply is no comparison, Mr Bridgerton.”

Straightening up, he gazed at Colin for a moment longer in a superior fashion that rankled, then delivered his parting shot.

“To the victor the spoils, eh?”

Then with self-satisfied smile and a nod, he sauntered off towards his waiting carriage.

Colin stared after him feeling a rage he’d never known begin to course through his veins. Each word Debling had uttered had landed blow after shattering blow directly to his own insecurities with a precision that was unnerving.

The gauntlet, it seemed, had been lifted, struck firmly against each of his cheeks then well and truly thrown down at his feet.

And Colin was more than ready to accept the challenge.

He was not going to walk away. Not when he’d finally realised the true depth of his feelings. And while he knew it was true that Penelope did not love him, they were still friends. Good friends. And if his feelings could turn into something more then perhaps hers could too.

He dearly hoped they could.

He set off across the square towards Bridgerton House, a plan rapidly forming in his mind.

He had come back a changed man this season, hadn't he? For all the outward pretence on display for the Ton, underneath he was older and wiser and now knew how to use his charm to full affect.

He also knew Penelope.

It was the one thing he had to his advantage over Debling and he was bloody well going to use it to win her over, even if it killed him.

All’s fair in love and war, he told himself resolutely.

And as far as he was concerned, this was well and truly both.

END CHAPTER 2

#afilaw fic #all's fair in love and war chapter 2 #polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 fic #multi chap fic #polin fanfiction #polin fanfic #polin afilaw fic #polin afilaw

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xpoisoned-stardustx · 1 year ago

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THE SHOWS ARE HOLDING BACK!!!

Tw: mentions of sewer-slide, mentions of mental illness, mentions of trauma (I’m just putting this here for cautions)

And by that I mean holding back on angst

I’m not just talking about TSAMS or TLAES, I’m talkin’ ALL SHOWS (granted, i haven’t watched all of the recent show things but I do know they haven’t been to angst)

Now, you might think, “oh stardust, but we’ve had lots of angst! I mean think of Cassie on TRWAGS-“

Yeah, Cassie, the only one who has recently had a lot of angst, and it was only really her being mad her phone wasn’t working and talking a bit about her dad (im not including The Musical btw). I also feel like we should’ve had a lot more Gregory angst after Rocky’s death. I mean Gregory blamed himself for that, it wouldn’t just go away. And Circus Baby should be had more angst after Gregory almost frickin died!!! The characters recover so quickly and just go back to their goofy normal lives. Obviously I won’t cover everything for these shows but some of my main thoughts.

“uh but what about Glamrock Chica on TFFAGCS?”

Not. Enough. Glamrock Chica was easily back to normal after blaming herself for their whole issue because of stuff out of her control, having an exstistential crisis after being kicked out of the PizzaPlex, getting a message from her parents she doesn’t remember and so on. Also if ANYONE is getting angst it should be Funtime Foxy and his brother. Funtime Foxy almost drowned when he was around 10, Fexy (the brother) tried to stab FT.Foxy while screaming “THIS IS MY BODY, I WANT IT BACK” because they were in the same body at some point, he and his brother burned their house down because when FT.Foxy was running away from his brother they knocked over candles, then his brother literally tried to commit s—-ide by not leaving the burning building and saying “if I can’t have this I’d rather die” so FT.Foxy had to drag him out the house, then Fexy got sent to a mental hospital/asylum/psych ward (idk which one exactly) and lots of other things. And we haven’t seen ANY Lolbit angst whatsoever. Don’t even get me started on Mangle or Ray. (You can just tell this is my favourite show, can’t you?)

“…uhhh TFAFFS??”

Tbh I don’t watch that one alot but FT.Freddy Deffinetly has abondonment issues, as far as I know we never find out where that came from, Shadow Freddy had a bit of angst, Freddy is doing loads of things that I’m not bothered to say and ‘The Evil Gang’ or whatever their name is are another case of ‘comic relief villains’ I think.

“TLAES or TSAMS?????”

I already posted about this by rebloggin soemthing but ‘Sun gets Therapy’ was so disappointing, Lunar acts like things are normal, I feel like Solar should be seeing things after killing his Moon because as the Old Moon said “when you kill someone, they’re not there, but you can see them” or something like that, Moon just screams and gets mad at people for angst and he did apologise to Monty and have that whole “I’m a loser blah blah blah” but that’s it, Sun is hiding ALOT and other things.

“but TMGAFS has alot of angst”

which is why it’s my second favourite show. I’m just sad Foxy said him and Monty are more acquaintances than friends :(… I respect that show. If anyone else wants to criticise the angst there, be my guest.

Anyways I’m just rambling here. I’m gonna go listen to the entire C.C.C.C. album again, toodles.

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futurequibblerjournalist · 3 months ago

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I am a creature of habit and I have to say, you and Katie changing ur pfp has thrown me for a loop, don't get me wrong they look gorgeous (also take this as a grain of salt obviously it's ur blog and I have no say so in what u do with it and I'm not criticising u whatsoever) but I feel like it's going to take me so long to get used to them and I can't recognize ur blogs anymore😔

Chndjcnfjf I so get this tho,,, it happens to me every time anyone I follow change their profile pictures, it even happened to me with my own profile now that I changed it cjnfncnc hopefully you’ll get used to it soon,,,, I don’t think I’ll change it again soon?? I at least don’t plan to rn

#ask #anon ask #quibblernox

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goldenmusicmoments · 8 months ago

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The Discourse After The Release Of The Tortured Poets Department:

A week has now passed since the release of Taylor Swift’s new album The Tortured Poets Department and since then there has been quite the discourse surrounding it. Which seems to still be on going. The magnitude of the conversation in itself highlights Taylor Swift’s impact and popularity. With those that claim to dislike her taking centre stage. Many of these haters went running to listen to the leak or stream the album. All so that they could pick it apart to criticise and tear apart.

So you had a surge of fans from the Beyhive, Little Monsters, Arianators, Billie Eilish fans, Olivia Rodrigo fans, Adele fans and others. They have been tweeting nonstop and are still going. All in the desperate pursuit to impact her success. Though they claim not to care, their actions are extremely opposing of that. They clearly are threatened by another artist out doing those they support. They themselves make it a competition and then the tears roll when they don’t get their way. Or they yell ‘This isn’t even a worthwhile achievement’ or ‘Her numbers aren’t impressive’, as a way to ease their pain.

Over on TikTok there has been a range of people who all of a sudden think they are music critics pulling up with think pieces. Then you’ve had those that are regurgitating the same conversations once again that people make in regard to Taylor Swift’s lack of activism or her private jet usage to name a few. They go as far as to exaggerate or make things up in order to heighten the reaction to their ill founded content. At this point it’s become rather tiresome. As why would you be so dedicated on spending such a significant amount of time speaking about someone you clearly don’t like. The answer to that is that, only then do they get content engagement. Outside of that their content gets little to no traction. On top of that of course they’ll have their fellow haters lapping up all the ignorant commentary.

In relation to the album itself they’ve been criticising its sound, lyrical content and length. From people saying the entire record sounds like one long song, the songwriting is poor and immature, and that it is unnecessarily long. On most it proves they didn’t even bother to listen to the record. They only listened in order to pick it apart. The lack of comprehension skills are outstanding as many of them took to social media asking what some of the lyrics meant. For an artist who makes ‘basic’ music, the haters themselves are proof of its complexity. Of course there was no effort whatsoever to think on what the lyrics could signify as they had no true desire to do so. They took a lyric or two that on their own seem odd, and ran. Yes the album is cohesive in sound, however there is clear variation. If it were to all sound the same, when listening to the album you’d not be completely aware of what track you are now on. However that isn’t the issue.

Concerning maturity, how exactly is she immature in her songwriting. Many were asked that question and their responses proved what was expected. They didn’t pay attention. One person said she’s immature because she has a song titled ‘So High School’ on the album. Which is comical. Criticising her for still working with Jack Antonof is understandable, yes you can hope for her to find new collaborators. However she’s past the point of having a need to prove anything to anyone. So she should be allowed to do what she wants to do. Her male counterparts are never picked apart for churning out the same record.

Now on to the actual critics. The album received a mixed reaction. However Taylor was also attacked for sharing the positive reviews. Taylor’s always acknowledged the positive reviews from the start of her career. It’s nothing new. She always shows appreciation to those that are kind to her. However again those that have made disliking her their entirety are claiming she’s doing so as a manipulation tactic. In order to push more publications to leave rave reviews as they’ll receive recognition from her and generate more clicks. If that was true then people wouldn’t be posting the negative reviews anymore. The opposition will say anything in order to tarnish her. There were alterations made to some of the reviews and it has pointed to the fact that no one can seem to handle a female artist that is doing so well. The negative reviews on most part didn’t even focus on the album they were reviewing. Instead they took talking points from Stan Twitter and ran with that. Losing all sense of credibility.

Playlists on streaming platforms caused quite the stir with people complaining about songs from the album being placed on them. They should be aware that there is an algorithm in place that curates those playlists. They could very well create their own playlists and thus take full control in what they want to listen to. On top of that they could block Taylor Swift on the streaming services they use. However they’d not do that as they secretly do listen to her and keep close tabs on her every move.

Those in disbelief will do anything to convince themselves that her ability to sell is due to everything else but her talent. The ‘What do you expect when she releases so many variants?’. If variants were what helped boost sales, then why aren’t all the other artists that have released so many variants not able to do so. Logic exceeds the dumb as they say. Now that the first week sales figure was revealed, Taylor Swift’s reaction to it garnered a reaction from the haters. As they started yelling ‘Why is she acting surprised?’. Was she meant to expect that she’d sell that much?. How was she to predict the scale of the first week figures, yes she’d have an ideas. However why should that bother any of you, is what is hard to understand.

Madonna just broke an attendance record at show in Rio de Janeiro and the Taylor haters decided to make it about her instead. Saying that she was now plotting a way to outdo that record. They themselves at this point out themselves, that she is constantly on their mind. They make up scenarios in their own heads to get mad over. Comical to say the least, showing her impact and scale of stardom. As no one else receives the reaction she does.

As said many times, you don’t have to like an artist or their music. However you must have nothing better to do in life, if you’ve dedicated everything to hating on them. It is rather sad. Though regardless the haters will always do what they do as they thrive off of their hate driven content. So be sure to keep a look out for my breakdown of the album, I was hoping to have done it much faster. However life has been hectic.

#Taylor Swift #Madonna #Beyhive #Arianators #Billie Eilish #Olivia Rodrigo #Adele #TTDP #The Tortured Poets Department #Fans #Stan Twitter #Twitter #TikTok

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gingerbreadmonsters · 3 years ago

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Hello there! I just wanted to say that i absolutely adore all of your redacted asmr works, i just finished 'ivory tower' and i can't be more in love with your writing and the original way to tell their story, it's so well done it feels so special and magical, great work!<33

(in reference to this post!)

hello lovie!! it's a pleasure to meet you 🥰 i'm so so glad to hear you're enjoying my writing - i kind of tumbled face-first into the tag a few months ago with no idea of what i was doing, so i'm v happy that i can make you happy! 💕💕

oh ivory tower... 🤠🤠 definitely not one of my particularly popular works, but i do love it a lot - i'd never really tried that kind of canon re-telling before?? and the fairytale aesthetic is just too perfect for vincent and lovely, plus it was fun to work out how to translate canon story into fantasy tropes, and add those little snippets of dialogue every now and then 🏰🏰

#🥺🥺🥺 you're too kind to me bby!! thank you v v much 😘😘#i'm never quite sure how my redacted works go down because not a lot of writers that i see in the tag use second person in the same way??#like i tend to write in a quite traditional x reader style - using 'you' in place of a nickname #idk i come from the obey me! tag where you get a lot of named MCs so that sort of thing is not unusual to me #but i've always preferred using the second person 'you' because i feel like it suits my style better #like within the fiction of the universe names like 'lovely' or 'sweetheart' ARE nicknames - the characters do have actual names #(i.e. the listener's actual name)#so i try to preserve that by using those canon nicknames as.... y'know.... nicknames #this is not to bash anyone in ANY way #i think it's just bc i don't tend to have OCs for the listeners but see it as more of a classic self-insert #again this is not to criticise anyone whatsoever #i adore the OCs that you guys come up with and i love seeing them sm 🥰🥰#this is a v long winded way to say: thank you i am blushing 😘😘#ginger speaks to lovely blogs

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

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Candlelight dinner with Dwalin? 🥺👉🏼 👈🏼 he's such moshi softy I need to melt. Love your writing!

Hey hey...Slowly settling in the new house!

Here's your story

Candles

Words: 1,1 k

“Are you taking me for a fool?” Dwalin shook the tiny candles – three at a time – in annoyance and, for a moment, Kíli thought that he’d throw them at his head.

“Why is everything I procure for people always wrong?” the young man complained; he was of half a mind to let his friends and family members get their shit on their own if they always had something to criticise about the items he brought them.

“Lad,” Dwalin sighed, “I am well afraid that I’ll need bigger candles for a candlelight dinner. It will look ridiculous…”

He relapsed into silence, kneading his huge hands nervously.

Kíli knew what a great, big oaf Dwalin could be and patted his shoulder with affectionate brutality.

“They love you,” Kíli giggled, “they won’t object to tiny candles that make you look even bigger and bulkier for that’s your worry, isn’t it?”

Thorin claimed that Dwalin had looked like a rock upon birth already, and Kí had no trouble believing that seeing how broad and strong the old dwarf was nowadays, but he could also understand that he longed to look right in a romantic setting.

“It kind of is,” Dwalin admitted in an annoyed tone, “I am just not good at this whole spiel; the candles, the tablecloth, the tiny cutlery…I feel like a bumbling fool.”

“It was your idea!” Kíli exclaimed; he was of course unbeatable when it came to spontaneous romantic gestures and could only shake his head at the extreme pains Dwalin – once again – had taken in the meticulous courting of a person who was utterly infatuated with him anyway.

“Well, maybe it was not a good idea!” Dwalin shouted back, always easily drawn into a screaming match by the flippant youth.

“Stop it!” Kíli laughed and gave his old friend and honorary uncle a tiny push, “it will be quite okay. The food is good, I know because I convinced Bombur to let me taste everything, you look dapper, and the candles will be very pretty once they’re lit.”

“You are an old romantic, Dwalin son of Fundin,” they laughed as soon as they came through the door and saw Dwalin trying to fumble the tiny candles into their holder without the flame going out in the process.

His half-bald head snapped up and one of the candles – alight – was crumbled to a clump of wax in his massive fist as his whole body tensed.

“I am a foolish dwarf,” Dwalin mused aloud, “that’s what I am.”

“Dwalin,” they said softly, stepping closer to thread their hand between his arm – pressed tightly against his massive chest – and his torso gently, “I have told you before that you don’t need to do anything you are not comfortable with for my sake.”

Dwalin sighed; it was true that those had been their words, but they deserved all the things he had heard about – and laughed at dismissively as he had to admit ruefully now – from his friends and kinsmen.

If one truly loved another person, one was to show them by lighting candles and organising romantic dinners; everybody said so and he could not imagine loving anyone deeper or more helplessly than them.

“You’re a good man,” they purred, feeling a little guilty for having mocked him ever so lightly for his efforts; to them, it was ludicrous how much he worried about these things when there was no need whatsoever for it.

They knew him to be awkward in those things and hence, they couldn’t quite understand why he kept putting himself through them; it was so painfully obvious how kind and generous he was whenever they saw him interact with other people. How could he still believe that they needed something other or beyond that knowledge?

“Those are very nice candles,” they complimented him – thinking that it might put him at ease – but his face scrunched up in frustration as he explained that he thought that they were too small.

“It doesn’t matter how big or how small the candle is, Dwalin,” his own true love smiled, “it’s all about the light!”

Indeed, the whole room seemed to gleam with the many tiny accents of love and devotion he had sprinkled about; Dwalin usually had no eye for these things, so they took special notice of the wildflowers someone had collected from their favourite spot in the woods and the delicious aroma of wild boar which was one of the dishes they loved the most.

“I just wanted it to be perfect for you,” Dwalin breathed, brushing his lips carefully across theirs before applying a little more pressure and plunging into a passionate kiss as they reciprocated his caresses immediately.

“It is,” they replied, a little breathlessly, “it always is where you are concerned, my love.”

As the meal was served, Dwalin could not help staring at their beauty; no matter how dumb and unsatisfying he found the candles that Kíli had gotten from Nori who probably had stolen them right out of the pot-warmer of some poor unsuspecting widow, he had to admit that the soft golden glow flattered his beloved exceedingly.

They had been made for soft lighting: the afternoon sun, the diamond shine of a starry night or a full moon, candlelight, and lanterns in dark corners.

It seemed as if every single ray was multiplied and reflected by their complexion, their eyes, and their smile; they were wreathed and crowned in ethereal bands of pulsating gold, and he could not avert his eyes.

Once or twice, he stabbed himself in the lip with his fork because he was so distracted by his company.

“Love,” they chuckled, “I will not dissolve into thin air. Eat!”

Dwalin took them by their word but lowering his gaze onto his plate felt like blasphemy and so, his head shot up again and again, washing over them like a soft mist of purest love.

The food tasted better in their company, Dwalin found; the feeling of perfect and utter bliss made him unclench his jaw and relax his shoulders which may have contributed to that effect, but mainly, he felt like their presence amplified everything good and precious in the world.

“Thank you for this lovely evening,” they said as they wiped their rosy mouth on the fine cloth napkin without disturbing the serene smile that lingered on their face every time they were around the gruff warrior with the surprisingly soft heart.

“It was my pleasure,” Dwalin replied, a little embarrassed by the compliment and his inability to reply appropriately.

“May I invite you to walk me home and take some coffee in my sitting room?”

There was a twinkle in their eyes that he could not entirely place; his mouth went dry, and he tried to swallow against the rising tide of panic before nodding slowly.

“Lovely,” they grinned and took his hand to lead him onto that mysterious path only known to them.

And this (most probably) concludes the February Challenge for me!

I am sorry about the delay and I hope you've liked this. Thank you for sending a prompt, it means so much to me <3

#fotfics #fotfics bingo #february challenge #fluffy prompts #writing #fanfiction #the hobbit #Dwalin #Dwalin x reader #GN reader #candlelight dinner #Kíli is a treasure #follow-up of last Dwalin fic

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randomnameless · 3 years ago

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oh boy, I just saw the post about dragons in FE are inherintly bad and I'm gonna weigh in about Jugdral cause that's where my braincells are.

as already pointed out, the evil dragon Loptous became a problem after Galle/Gair/whatever his localised name is went out of his way to travel to Archanea in search of power and found it in the form of a bloodpact with Loptous. Also nobody said Loptous is innocent whatsoever, so no idea where that came from?? (And yes, Loptous resided in the tome and descends into anyone with the fitting Holy Blood. Only at the end he's released after Julius is defeated.) Anyways, Galle returns, establish his funky new empire and everything starts going awry for several years. "When it came to that, the other group of dragons who were then living in secret came to discuss what they ought to do. So, in the middle of that discussion, their leader proposed tentatively trusting the humans and intervening, and they distributed their power to the soldiers who remained until the end--that's a summary of the event that we call The Miracle at Darna Fortress. [...] Afterward, humanity preserved the teachings of the gods AKA dragons, and for several decades, continued the era of peace. However…… as time passed, the teachings of the gods were slowly forgotten, and humanity became arrogant." - Kaga [Source]

And that's quite literally the theme of FE4! Humanity's hubris once someone gains an inch of power. In the span of barely 100 years the people went from waging war against Loptous to waging war against one another because everyone believes themselves to be in the right. (Importance of the word "seisen" and the implications it has in Japan) "Seeing this, the dragons from whom the Twelve Crusaders drew their power regretted aiding the humans, and agreed never to intervene in the human world again."

That is until Forseti/Lewyn, who helped out a little. He only sheltered Julia for several years, taught Arthur wind magic, helped out in Leonster, watched over Lene (if he's her father) and basically provided guidance for the new generation. So yeah, I guees he helped out "a little". He also delivered this banger of a quote: "Yeah... Consider this a lesson, Seliph. Good and evil can't be easily reduced to such simple, black-and-white ideals. If you must hate, hate the evil which lurks in us all, not the individual. Never forget this."

In short, FE4 is not a game about "dragons bad". Yes, there is a dragon, who is bad but overall the shittiness in Jugdral stems from people being greedy and arrogant. Galle also would have established his empire if the power came from a freaking salmon, it's all about power and what it does to people! And Julius in the end is just a vicitm of circumstances.

Oh damn, this is long but I couldn't just let this be, sorry for that. Also I wouldn't think too hard about Ced/Sety being named after the crusader. I think this is more of a case of Kaga not being subtle/being biased towards Lewyn x Erin, why else would she name her son after an crusader even if Lewyn isn't her husband. Of course, there can be an analysis in that direction but Kaga had his clear biases and I think this is one of them.

Nah, don't worry!

I'm not posting as much about Jugdral as I used to be, but I welcome any kind of discussion about the verse!

I don't know what was wrong with that person, but they apparently didn't want to talk, because if you rebuked them or disagreed, you were apparently a terf and whatnot, and then they brought their degree and I nope'd out of it because it just isn't worth it - like, seriously, I do not understand how you can brag about academics when we're talking about video games, but the more you know...

Imagine if everytime someone criticised Thatcher and some people would immediately jump on you affirming you said she was "stupid because she has ovaries" - no mate, I've never talked about ovaries, and quite frankly I don't really want to.

Anyways, I agree with everything you said!

Jugdral is the verse where we don't see manaketes and physical dragons ruining things - Jugdral is the verse where humans abuse power, let it come from a dragon or a jack'o'latern, to do cruel, petty or stupid things because Jugdralians are shitty people.

But for every Raydrick out there, we also have an Amalda, an Eyvel or a Siggy.

Dragons left, Forseti tries to help and guide... it doesn't always work - and the world would have been doomed if Manfroy wasn't a petty bastard - but his MO is to let humans deal with their own mess, he is just here to give directions.

IDK about Ced/Sety, but I thought it was maybe just a callback to the OG Crusader and founder of Silesse - since Erinys becomes Queen, maybe she would have found it nice for her child to be named after the previous Hero and founder of Silesse?

And this is mainly why I really do not want a remake for Jugdral to be announced, I know some people like that person did would, not misunderstand, but refuse even to listen or to consider what the game wanted to tell, if it can be used to prop, usually, Supreme Leader and her nauseabond take that people with scales are the reason why humans suffer.

There can be no discussion with someone who refuses to engage, and I've seen it in real life, it becomes quickly tiresome.

In real life, I cannot block those people but in the fandom?

I can cure my own experience, and yet, as we saw with FE16, it will spread around like an unattended chamber pot. At first I thought Serenes might be the last bastion of common sense, since people who played and talked about past games, who (used?) are open to discussion could kindly rebuke them, and if it ever escalated mods are here to remove their access to debating spaces if it becomes clear they do not want to engage in any discussion and are just here to troll...

But Serenes let Beta ruin the FE16 subforum for several months, with the famous "one day one bad take" and everyone who disagreed would either be harshly rebuked or straight out ignored, so...

So I don't know if it counts as gatekeeping, I hope not, but even being worried about the question raises an issue about the current state of the fandom, are you really gatekeeping when you just ask of someone who wants to debate/talk/engage to play the game or read the script? When you ask them to answer and reply with canon material, and not their latest recipe on how to make egg-less mayo?

#tomeofthoron #jugdral stuff #to this day I'm still baffled at how you can use Jugdral to say dragon bads when Jugdral is the land where McBeth sucks bcs he is McBeth #what even counts as gatekeeping in a fandom?#back in my days people said if you're asking of someone to play the older games you were an elitist #but how can you talk about something you never played/watched/read?#and how can you miss the 'humans suck' message from jugdral and put everything on lizards?#does it come back to the general death of the author circle - i'll use X to say whatever I want despite X's meaning and themes?#back to jugdral thoughts #I found it nice how in FE4 Erinys is Queen in her own right and not only as the wife of #maybe in the FE4 canon Kaga thought Erinys would need to name her son after the Crusader to gain some legitimacy despite his lack of HB #if his dad isn't Lewyn?#idk

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bearkunin · 2 years ago

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And sorry to be a bother, but I again really want to re-iterate a key point. If you look at that 2018 data 53% of the casualties occurred in Syria. These are mainly from villages in Idlib being bombed by Syrian government forces in a terror campaign to subdue a civilian population (using Russian rockets). This is the sort of environment being deliberately targeted by the Syrian military:

It is a campaign against dense urban areas against an entrenched-guerrilla style armed force heavily integrated into civilian areas, being waged by an authoritarian dictator.

If you look at some more recent attacks in Syria, such as a number of strikes on November 6, 2022, you can see that they are targeting literal refugee camps on the outskirts of the major city of Idlib:

These are areas of heavy civilian traffic, being deliberately targeted, and held by rebel forces that do not have the means to conduct ongoing effective UXO management under fire. Maram Camp after being hit by cluster munitions:

One of the other major areas where cluster munitions is causing civilian harm is Yemen. And if people want to criticise the then-US support for the Saudi air campaign over Yemen, I 100% support them. Saudi Arabia was rather-indiscriminately bombing civilian areas, targeting an entrenched guerrilla force heavily embedded in civilian areas. So deaths associated with cluster munitions includes things like bombing a 1,500 person cement factory maybe-at-one-time-or-another occupied by Houthi forces.

Even then, the deaths by cluster munitions were completely insignificant compared to just air strikes in general. See this one week period from 2015:

The issue was 99.83% Saudi's conduct in the air campaign, and like 0.17% related to the type of munition being used. As per your linked source, there were 31 recorded casualties of cluster munitions in Yemen in 2018. There were 19,226 civilian casualties the same year according to the YemenDataProject. Even assuming 31 is a massive undercount, it could be 20x worse and still be insignificant.

And this is not how these munitions will be used in Ukraine! As I mentioned elsewhere, the Ukrainian Minister of Defence has already outlined how their use will be very different, not targeting urban areas whatsoever and focused on trenches to enable a breakthrough. Anyone trying to use these figures to make judgement about likely civilian casualties in Ukraine is not thinking fully through at best and being deliberately disingenuous at worst.

Biden both giving Eliot Abrams a job and deciding to send cluster munitions to Ukraine in the same week, just as a reminder that “evil” is a perfectly appropriate and neutral term for describing US foreign policy

#ukraine war #ukraine #cluster munitions #strategic studies

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madara-fate · 4 years ago

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I also wasn't insinuating that MinaKushi or DanTsu are the only good examples of good romantic relationships (I don't even care about these pairing for the record, or any other pairing in Naruto). I'm just pointing out that people do not doubt that Minato loves Kushina or that Dan loves Tsunade. If Sasuke genuinely loved Sakura and Kishimoto did a good job at showing it, then there would not be a huge debate on whether he does love her or not, because it would be obvious to pretty much everyone that he does, whether they like the ship or not. The fact that it's not and that so many people still debate on this to this day either shows that Kishimoto did a poor job at showing Sasuke as a loving husband either that Sasuke does not love her, despite that "love is the real deal" line or his reply to Sarada's question. It's show vs tell if you know what I mean. On one hand he tells us that "love is the real deal" but on the other hand he does not really show it all too well, which makes many people think whether he truly meant those words or he was being sarcastic and simply mocked the fans. It's either a case of bad writing either Sasuke simply does not love Sakura. I personally don't know what to think. I tend to lean towards the first option, it may just be bad writing after all. He admitted he's not great at writing romance and to be honest? It shows. It is even implied they haven't kissed in Gaiden by Sakura looking sad when Sarada asked her if they ever kissed. And I know you like to refute that by saying that it's preposterous to think they haven't kissed when they obviously had sex in order to concieve Sarada, but the thing is, it is entirely possible to have sex with someone but not kiss. It really is. When you're having sex but you're not really enjoying it or when you have simply been pressured and pestered into having sex with a person. Sakura Hiden confirmed the fact that Sakura was determined to confess her feelings to Sasuke over and over again until he would've eventually reciprocated. She compared that with punching a villain over and over until they're defeated. Now please tell me, would it be so far fetched to consider that harassment? If someone tells you no once, you have to respect their rejection and stop pursuing them, not take it as a challenge to persist in reaffirming your feelings over and over again until they eventually get tired or take pity in you and accept to give you a chance. And even in Gaiden it was confirmed that Sakura had to chase after Sasuke. It's really easy to see this ship as... problematic, to say the least. I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt tho and blame it on bad writing rather than on Kishimoto simply implying SS is not really a loving relationship, but if other people are not convinced or deny that Sasuke loves Sakura, you have to let your bias aside and admit that they have reasons to believe that. The writing makes it really easy to interpret it either way, depending on your preferences.

I already answered a lot of the points you made here in my response to your previous ask, but it's important for people to remember the type of person Sasuke is, and understand that the manner in which he shows affection isn't the same as Dan or Minato. It's a lot more subtle. Are people doubting that Vegeta loves Bulma and Trunks? No, so then people need to ask themselves - in which ways has Vegeta demonstrated that he loves his family in ways that Sasuke hasn't? Both of them aren't outwardly affectionate, both of them aren't romantic, but both of them have undoubtedly demonstrated that they love their family. Yet, only one of them is questioned. It really is just a "damned if you do and damned if you don't" situation. If Sasuke acts all affectionate like Dan and Minato, people will claim that he's OOC (like they did for Sasuke Retsuden), but if he stays reserved and demonstrates affection in his own way, people will just turn a blind eye and say he doesn't care. It really just shows how little they actually know Sasuke's character. To think that Sasuke, who hails from the clan which values love above all else, would marry and start a family with someone he doesn't love.

On one hand he tells us that "love is the real deal" but on the other hand he does not really show it all too well, which makes many people think whether he truly meant those words or he was being sarcastic and simply mocked the fans.

People actually think that Kishi may have been "sarcastic" when he described their love as the real deal. Oh my goodness. Why would Kishi purposely give wrong information to the readers (and never reveal what's actually going on)? Why would he intentionally want the readers to misunderstand his story and characters? Why would he want to portray his 2nd biggest character as someone who would enter a loveless marriage when that literally goes against the ways of his clan and his entire character? Do people not listen to themselves?

It's like how so many people claim that Sasuke saying "because you exist" means that the only reason he and Sakura are still together is because of Sarada, and people really don't realise how stupid that sounds. They don't stop and ask themselves why Sarada would be brought to happy tears, why Chouchou would describe her as lucky, and why Naruto would give her a knowing smile, if Sasuke had really just insinuated that she was the only thing that was keeping her parents together:

They just don't think. They apparently believe that Chouchou was happily thinking to herself "aww, lucky Sarada, you're the only thing keeping your parents together!", and that makes sense to them apparently, Chouchou being so happy for Sarada after hearing such awful news. It's unbelievable.

And I know you like to refute that by saying that it's preposterous to think they haven't kissed when they obviously had sex in order to conceive Sarada, but the thing is, it is entirely possible to have sex with someone but not kiss. It really is. When you're having sex but you're not really enjoying it or when you have simply been pressured and pestered into having sex with a person.

This is just like the people who believe that Sasuke is gay, justifying their ridiculous claims by pointing out how "you can be gay and still marry a woman", and to that I always say - Why would Sasuke do that? Just like to you I'll say - Why would Sasuke do that? To have sex and not kiss? Why would Sasuke of all people be "pressured and pestered" into entering a relationship with someone? He obviously has no problem whatsoever with bluntly turning people down. If he doesn't want to do something, he's not gonna do it. Heck, if you're using Sakura Hiden to try and prove your points then I'll also use a novel to prove this one - The lipstick stain scene during Sasuke Shinden: The Teacher's Star Pupil, explicitly indicates that Sakura and Sasuke had kissed earlier that day. The motorbike scene during Naruto Retsuden has Sakura kiss Sasuke. Sasuke and Sakura having kissed, is not (and has never been) a topic that's open to discussion.

Sakura Hiden confirmed the fact that Sakura was determined to confess her feelings to Sasuke over and over again until he would've eventually reciprocated. She compared that with punching a villain over and over until they're defeated. Now please tell me, would it be so far fetched to consider that harassment? If someone tells you no once, you have to respect their rejection and stop pursuing them, not take it as a challenge to persist in reaffirming your feelings over and over again until they eventually get tired or take pity in you and accept to give you a chance. And even in Gaiden it was confirmed that Sakura had to chase after Sasuke.

I've already talked at length about that scene from Sakura Hiden so I won't do so again here, but I'll link the relevant post where I explained how that scene obviously was not meant to be taken as a negative comment, but people will of course just twist things in order to suit their own anti Sakura/SS agenda.

But if other people are not convinced or deny that Sasuke loves Sakura, you have to let your bias aside and admit that they have reasons to believe that. The writing makes it really easy to interpret it either way, depending on your preferences.

No, here's what people need to understand. If people think that Sasuke's love towards Sakura was not adequately shown, then that's a reason to criticise the writing. It is not however, a reason to deny what is canon. They are stating that Sasuke does not love Sakura, despite the fact that this has explicitly been stated. Sasuke loving Sakura is a canon fact, whether they like it or not. Criticise the execution all you want, I know I have plenty of times, but don't deny the truth. Hell, since you wanted to use the novels...

During Sakura Hiden, Sasuke rushed back for Sakura's sake, despite having ignored the village's prior pleas for help. What does that say about his feelings for her?

During Akatsuki Hiden, Sasuke described Sakura as "The Spring Sunshine" which illuminated his dark life. What does that say about his feelings for her?

What does basically the entirety of Sasuke Retsuden say about his feelings for her?

Many anti SS fans are always so quick to use the novels when it suits them. And then when a novel like Sasuke Retsuden comes along and completely shits over all their theories, they're just as quick to dismiss the novel as an OOC fan fic by a sub par author, figures. As far as I'm concerned, the manga is more than enough to show that Sasuke loves his family (seriously this really isn't up for debate), but I'll also definitely say that anyone who criticises SS and uses the novels as a point of reference, is in way over their heads.

#Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #sasusaku

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lymmsweb · 4 years ago

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Hello it's my first time here, I would like a fanfic if possible or if you can't, it could be headcanons Yanderes! Sniper Mask.

Imagine a scenario where Yandere! Sniper Mask arrives late somewhere and sees the reader dead, but something strange happens and the day starts again and the reader returns from death? [just like in the movie Happy Death Day]. As if the reader had a kind of power to come back from death and remember how they died and only she and the yandere remember what happened... What will happen next?

Thank you for requesting @sweetpotato-97 ,this is my first fic! I hope you like it, if you don’t, feel free to criticise it and tell me what to do better next time! <3

I actually haven’t watched Happy Death Day but i definitely want to watch it since I’m into horror movies, I’ve seen some trailers and some reviews so i can get the general gist of it.

Yandere! Sniper Mask x gn!reader death time loop

Tw: Details of blood, Mentions of suicide, Swearing

705 words

“So we’re going to meet on the top floor, not the roof though, I’ll go cover from top to down, you start at the bottom. Okay?” You were nervous about splitting up from him, but you wanted to ‘test’ your strength.

“But you’re going to be alone!” He protested, truth be told you didn’t want to split up. “Without me?”

“Yeah”

——————————————————————————

“Fuck I had to meet them 5 minutes ago,” he mentally curses himself “this stupid mask was being a fucking nuisance.” He gave the corpse next to him a second glance when he heard a scream that was a little too familiar for his liking.

His heart stopped. That was your scream. The rendezvous spot wasn’t that far away from him, only 2 flights of stairs. Hoisting the rifle onto his shoulder, he bolted, the quickest that he ever has before.

“Please no, no please, be alive,” Panic started to flood in, “don’t die on me, don’t you dare” He’s cleared one flight. “C’mon we’re supposed to stay together, we promised!” He was met with silence, no sounds whatsoever “You wouldn’t break it, right?” He’s about to clear the second flight.

A mask was hovering over a body. It was covered in blood, the face was unrecognisable.

“Y/N?” No that couldn’t be you, right? But as he gave a look to the mask it had similar proportions of you but something felt off. The body underneath the mask was dead still. All you could hear was his heavy breathing.

“Y/N.” He repeated “Y/N answer me right now.” Anger started to rise in him, was this some sick joke that you decided to play on him? If that Mask hurt you, he’d give them a slow and painful death. As he started to weigh out his options of what to do the bloodied body moved. His eyes widened, fuck, that person is still alive? Not that he’d truly care though, if it’s not you then he doesn’t really care.

“Ba.....babe.” A hoarse voice tried to reach out to him, slowly extending their hand. ‘Babe’? Who were they calling babe? He stood there frozen, sure this wasn’t the bloodiest thing that he’s seen but something wasn’t right.

“Who are you call- no” he connected all the dots, that was you, the person he loved, the person he swore to protect, the person who he’s killed for, on the ground, blood gushing out like a water fountain. Even from a mile away anyone could tell that you were about to die, nothing could save you.

“Y/N!” His vision started to become blurry, tears were forming. How dare they lay a finger on his Y/N. “You mother fucker!” His sniper fell into his hands, his rage couldn’t make him see straight. It’d be like asking a blind person to read a book. He would have a better shot of killing the mask by stabbing or pushing it through a window. What was the point of living if you weren’t in his life, he’d kill this mask and think of what he’d do with himself after that. Loading up the rifle, stabilising his aim, right where their forehead is.

“So we’re going to meet on the to-“ Y/N. The same Y/N who was just on the floor with their guts visible was standing there infront of him, with his rifle a few inches away from their forehead.

“Am i dea- what the fuck? Did that mask somehow kill me?” As he looked around he was in their shared hideout, the rays of sunshine in the same place as it was a couple of hours ago. Everything was the same as when he saw Y/N alive and well for the last time.

“Nope, you’re not dead and neither am i” He lowered his rifle “I see, so you can remember?”

“Remember what?” He didn’t know what to think, was he day dreaming? No it felt too real.

“Me, dying. Remember?”

He hesitantly nodded, what the actual fuck was going on?

“Explain yourself right now. If i find out your a fake Y/N i will not hesitate to blow your brains out” His voice was dangerously low, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Calm down shithead. Whenever i die, the day resets. I’m pretty sure that i have this power until i get out of here. I’ve died 6 times already and no one has said anything, but i don’t want to find out if i can use this infinitely. How come you remember?”

“I-“ His voice faltered. You have ‘powers’? Who hurt you? Did someone try to do something with you? 6 times, dying? Thoughts were running in and out of his mind, so that wasn’t a dream?

The image of your bloodied body moving kept repeating in his head. What the fuck was going on?

“I don’t know how I remember”

A/N : I kinda realised i wrote this weirdly. Sorry that it’s taken so long to write this! Also this wasn’t exactly Yandere but i tried my best :(

#sniper mask #anime #simping #fanfic #yandere #high rise invasion #tenku shinpan #he knows he looks good #he knows he’s hot #deja vú #happy death day #request #my husband #i hope this is okay!#i hope you're happy #ily <3

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just-another-tortured-poet · 3 years ago

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Dr Strange into the Multiverse of Madness

So I watched the movie and... I have some thoughts. Mostly negative ones since I haven't really been a huge fan of Marvel anyway but I still found some of the movies to be enjoyable.

For a start, the whole thing feels like a frat boy learned a new word and is repeating it mindlessly. Like, okay Marvel, we get it, you discovered the concept of the Multiverse. And now in the next decade so many movies will probably revolve around that concept that it's honestly gonna become a headache. But to be honest this is the least of this movie's problems.

Moving on from the fact that we won't be rid of the multiverse concept for at least a decade in any movie. To me it felt like Dr Strange: Into the Multiverse was way too heavily inspired by Inception. Like borderline plagiarism imo, especially when it comes to the visuals. I mean, it's my fault I expected an ounce of originality from a superhero movie but come on, with the technology that exist nowadays when it comes to visuals and special effects in movies, they could have at least made an effort to not rip off Inception - from the poster to the visuals it was pretty much 1:1. I understand drawing inspiration from a movie/director you admire but that should not stop you from making something original and good.

And while we're on the topic of visuals and special effects and CGI etc, that movie barely had anything aside from those things. And again, I realise that it's a superhero movie and it is all about the special effects but would it fucking kill them to have *some* meaningful dialogue between the characters? Everything that was said, everything that happened was extremely underwhelming and predictable. Especially the last ~20 minutes of the movie where the dialogue was so flat and cheesy that it makes you wonder whether it's satirical and making fun of how predictable movies have become or if they're being for real with the banality of it. And to clarify, even if it is satirical, if that does not become clear to the audience that means the idea flopped.

Honestly, because of the excessive amount of special effects the movie felt way too fast paced to the point where I actually found myself thinking 'Am I supposed to care about any of these new characters?' Take America for example, she was introduced way too quickly, given no backstory and barely any purpose. Strange's character felt extremely two dimensional - like he had absolutely no personality whatsoever. In the first movie he did have a personality - he was cocky, snarky, sarcastic and here he was just your basic superhero. You could put anyone else in his place and the movie wouldn't change a bit. Sure, they tried to save that with a few snarky remarks but they felt forced and kind of... fell flat. And I am honestly not even going to criticise Cumberbatch because he is a brilliant actor. It's just that he wasn't really given much to work with.

And don't even get me started on the AU avengers x illuminati bullshit. Like what the fuck lmaooooooo. When you get to the illuminati plotline unironically is when you've not only hit rock bottom but gotten the shovel and started digging down more. That part of the movie genuinely made me wanna leave the theater and go home istg.

And now I really wanna get to the part that genuinely bothers me the most - the character of Wanda Maximoff/the Scarlet Witch. I will begin by saying that I don't feel like she was given enough screen time in previous MCU movies to justify the decision to make a separate show for her but go off I guess. Despite feeling like she doesn't have enough backstory either I watched the show. It isn't my favourite but I liked it, it was good. Wanda is someone who has lost everything and everyone she loves - her psychotic break is justified and actually understandable to the point that I was actively rooting for her both in the show and in the movie though for different reasons. In the show they managed to showcase her insanity in a chilling and captivating way and they had the opportunity to make her so much more terrifying in the movie. She had the potential to be an actually horrifying villain but, like all Marvel villains, they turned her into barely an inconvenience.

At the beginning we find out that Wanda wants to kill America, a child, for personal reasons. And if you don't know the personal reasons your like okay damn she's really gone crazy. They hype her up so much and make her out to be this terrifying villain but... at the end they still defeated her fairly easily? I am in general frustrated with Marvel because their female characters reaaaallly lack any depth. But I am genuinely angry cause it looked like they were adequately developing Wanda. They had started shaping her into this great villain and then... her motivation to kill a child was because she wanted to go to an AU and be a mother to her kids? The reason this frustrates me is because she would have been so much more scary if she just wanted to kill and be evil just because - she's lost everything and everyone she loves so she has nothing left to loose; might as well do whatever the fuck. But noooo the *female* villain's aspiration is to be a mom, to be with her kids. That's why she is gonna kill another kid. If the villain was a dude would they give such a lame excuse? Not to mention how she suddenly decided to do the right thing and stop being evil at the end. She saw one example of what devastation her actions would cause to her children in another universe and... she suddenly gives up what she had fought for the entire movie and just... collapsed the Scarlet Witch's temple on herself? That isn't very believable lmaoooo. And we have two options here a) they did actually kill her off in this pathetic fucking way or b) they did not kill her off and she will keep appearing but is gonna be good or at least morally grey or something? And I honestly don't know which one of these options is worse.

Like I feel like we were lead to believe that Wanda is too far gone in her insanity so for her to be presented as so evil and scary the entire movie for her to be like 'oops sorry lemme fix stuff real quick' in the last five minutes just felt so fabricated and unnatural? Like it broke the entire flow of the movie and there was no true character development. Which is genuinely sad because despite Wanda being the 'evil' one she was still the most likeable character in the movie. She was still pretty two dimensional but at least she had some shading. Until the end of the movie, that is. I dunno, it's just mind blowing to me how we got this pretty cool show showing Wanda spiraling and then an entire movie hyping her up as this strong villain/strongest magic possessing character and then have the ending of the movie be so underwhelming and anticlimactic.

And then as a post credit scene teasing the next Dr Strange movie... I was genuinely like seriously? You made this shitty ass movie and you have the audacity to advertise the next one?

Overall I went to watch Dr Strange into the multiverse without any expectations and I still walked out of the theater pretty fucking disappointed. Imo this movie feels like a filler episode in some tv show, and a bad filler at that. I genuinely feel like this it does not contribute anything to the MCU whatsoever. For all I care it could have never existed. But you know... I get it... Disney bought Marvel and you gotta do what you gotta do for the greedy mouse. Still, Marvel and all its actors are complete sell-outs imo. Ang again, it's unrealistic to have high expectations for a superhero movie but this one didn't even meet the bare minimum in my eyes. Overall, I'd say it was really not worth the money to go see Dr Strange into the multiverse in the theater. Now excuse me while i go bleach my brain with Inception.

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