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brizadeiro-doce · 3 months ago

Text

🍷 — Arlecchino x Reader

♧ Gender less/Gender neutral Reader. Chapter I. Click here to read on AO3.

DISCLAIMER:

— This is only the first chapter. If it gets positive feedback, I will make more chapters.

— English js not my first language, so this was originally written in Portuguese. Please contact me if you find any translation issues.

— If you liked, pls rb and give me some kudos on AO3. 🔥🔥

You lived in a city in Teyvat, living a peaceful and ordinary life, however, for some time now you kept seeing a strange woman wherever you went. And if you stop and think about it, the first time she appeared in front of you she was distant, with an expression as cold as ice. She stood out from the crowd and that made you notice her. "I've never seen her here before, did she come for work?" You couldn't deny that she was quite beautiful, of course.

First, it all started with your distant admiration, that tall woman with snow-white hair, so serious and sober-looking. Something about her was so magnetic to you. Well, as the days went by — when you passed by her — she began to return your gazes. As if she had finally acknowledged your existence before hers. This sudden exchange of glances made you feel ashamed, "How awkward..", you blamed yourself thinking that you might have made the girl feel uncomfortable. When you finally passed by her, she would open a small smile after you got frustrated in front of her.

One morning, you bought some fruit from a merchant who was already used to seeing you there. It was a fair where colorful tents held tables full of various products, and very cunning merchants with extravagant prices would be waiting behind them. You prepared to pay for the fruit, putting your hand on a bag of morax that you carried with you, until you felt a hand on your shoulder — something that made you goosebumps.

— Don't worry, I'll pay for it — a gentle and clamorous female voice came from behind you. Turning slowly you confront the stranger, looking into her eyes you soon realize that it was the mysterious woman.

The merchant seemed as surprised as you were, facing the presence of the illustrious lady dressed as someone of high rank, at a fair of peasants. He looked at you in shock, who was still calculating how to respond.

— Miss! I appreciate your hospitality, but... — You tried to articulate the words, but they all sounded wrong and your voice was shaky. The woman finally gave a small smile.

— Please accept my gift — She says, still with her hand on his shoulder — I won't charge you for this later, don't worry.

At this point, it would be rude to refuse something from such a refined woman. You accept the gift and she finally pays for the fruit, smiling, as if this brings her a sense of satisfaction. After paying, you thank her — somewhat awkwardly, of course — and then prepare to leave. She waves to you, and soon disappears into the crowd. After this event, she began to appear more and more often. Yes... that's where it all began.

Another morning you were feeding the ducks in a lake that bordered the city, throwing bread crumbs into the water while the white-feathered birds rushed to eat them, quacking and sometimes fighting among themselves. You were alone, feeling calm and laughing at the ducks' reaction as they both crashed into each other in the water while fighting over bread crumbs. When suddenly, you felt a strange sensation... Wait, are you being watched?!

All this restlessness, could it be thieves? People with bad intentions? Or... even hillichurls!? Damn it, you turn around very carefully, preparing yourself, but... Hey, it's just that woman again. This makes you lower your guard and smile, waving at her. The woman responds with a small smile, and approaches you.

— Good morning... what are you doing here alone? — The fennec-looking woman stands beside him, watching the movement of the lake.

— Feeding the ducks! I do that sometimes.. — You say in an embarrassed way, isn't she too close?? — By the way, thank you again for that day...

— It was nothing, I swear! In fact, I found you to be quite interesting... My name is Arlecchino, I'm well known in the city, but I assure you that my reputation is good — She smiles broadly and extends her hand to you, when you shake it you can notice that she has a firm grip, as if she would never let go. She turns your hand gently and kisses it, before finally letting go. — You live in that city, right? I always see you there.

— I'm (Name). I've lived here since I was little. But, Miss Arlecchino, you're not from here, right? I can tell you have a foreign aura.

— Oh, yes, I am a foreigner. — you pause — I come here for business, my job is complicated, you know? Anyway, do you like living here?

— Well, I never leave here, haha.. — you laugh awkwardly — ..then I suppose so. — I can't imagine a life being stuck in one place all the time, don't you have any desire to see what's beyond these walls?

— But I know what's beyond the walls — you throw more crumbs into the lake — There's this lake, and the forest, but I'm not attracted to those dense woods. I can hear the wolves howling from here.

— There are very interesting places, you know? I remember going to Fontaine, it's a fascinating city.

— Really? Haha, you could take me there any day then.. — You throw your last handful of crumbs to the ducks. Meanwhile Arlecchino remains silent.

— And would you really go? If I invited you, would you come with me? — Arlecchino said raising her tone in her last question. As if your words had awakened something in her.

— Well, I have a job at the tavern... speaking of which, I don't have tomorrow off, but I think it would be interesting — you say with an embarrassed smile.

— Quit.

— What? Excuse me?

— Quit, your job. You can spend a week with me in the city and I'll pay for everything, I swear everything will go well. There you can find a better job, don't worry.

— Miss Arlecchino...that would be wonderful, but I don't think it will be necessary — you say with an uncomfortable expression — Besides, I'm fine here.

— I...I'll come visit you at the tavern tomorrow. But please think about it, life is too short to refuse an offer like that, and besides, I'm going to give you a long deadline, okay? Good afternoon. — She turns to leave, until you take her hand.

— No! Wait... I swear I'll think about it, it's just...it's something very difficult to answer right away. I promise I'll think about it better, thank you, Miss Arlechinno.

The woman smiles, with a sweet smile she lets go of your hand and strokes your head.

— No problem, just don't overwhelm yourself too much, okay?

After that she disappeared. You were alone again, like before, but now you felt an emptiness left by the absence of the presence of that woman who wasn't there before. Oh, my, now you found yourself with a dilemma that needed to be resolved, were you really attached to that little town? Gosh, but it had never crossed your mind to leave there, and now you had been put against the wall by that woman. Oh, that woman. Arlechinno... what a name. You repeated it in your mind as if you were savoring the word. Ar-le-cchi-no.

Sitting down on the grass, you looked at the horizon, seeing that not even the ducks were in the same place as before. Everyone moves, except you. You stay where you are. And that... and that starts to bother you. In fact, she touched a wound that you hadn't even realized was open. Lying down, you look at the sky, blue like... like the sea? A sea that you've never seen. Yeah, I think the time has really come.

The next night, you found yourself cleaning the bar of the tavern. Always looking at the door, every time you heard the bell that was connected to the door, you looked quickly, your body trembling, always expecting that woman to come through that door. Little by little, this was embarrassing you, she probably hadn't even remembered it... and you went back to your daily chores. Those drunks disgusted you, always taking their time to pay for what they drank and sometimes even wanting to flirt with you. Anyway, it was a job that could support the simple lifestyle you had.

You felt a little sad that particular night, why didn't Arlecchino come to see you? She promised, right? It's a little confusing, the tightness in your heart that that woman can cause in you. Your eyes tear up a little, how embarrassing. The drunks sing along with the bard in the background. Suddenly the door opens with force. It was her. It was her!! She came. Came to see you.

— (Name)!! Shit, this city had more taverns than I thought. — She says walking, getting close to you, she sits on a bench in front of the bar — Forgive me, (Name), but... Did you even think about what I told you yesterday?

Your face was slightly red. The woman had indeed remembered you and that provoked in you a feeling that, well, was difficult to name. Whatever, you had indeed thought about the answer and, placing a glass on the bar, you say:

— Yes, I did think about it.

— So? — She said looking you in the eyes, as if her happiness depended on your answer

You took a breath to be able to answer, looking around you saw the drunks partying. How annoying.

— I accept.

You expected to see Arlecchino's face light up, but she only gave a satisfied smile.

— Well, when will we leave? I still have to talk to my boss before I resign — You said a little more shyly.

— Tomorrow morning. I've already sorted everything out, you don't have to worry.

Tomorrow morning? The decision seemed so abrupt, but at the same time, something inside you was excited by the idea. The unexpected, the adventure, the unknown. However, it was all wrapped up in a feeling of fear. Leaving everything behind, your routine, your job, your home... It was a choice you never imagined you would have to make so soon.

— Tomorrow... I understand. — You answer, feeling the weight of those words on your tongue.

Arlecchino leans a little closer to you, his eyes shining like ice in the tavern's candlelight.

— Don’t worry about the details, (Name). I’ll take care of everything. — Her voice was low, almost a whisper. — We’ll meet at dawn, outside the city. I’ve already got the carriage ready.

You nodded, your heart beating faster at the thought of leaving, of finally exploring the world beyond the walls of that city. Still, there was something mysterious about Arlecchino that you couldn’t quite figure out, like a puzzle with missing pieces. But maybe that was exactly what drew you here—the curiosity, the unknown.

When the night finally ended, and the tavern began to empty, you retired, locked everything up as Mr. Diluc had taught you, and finally went to the little house you were renting. You went to your small room upstairs and fell into bed. Your thoughts were confused. Why was she so interested in you, someone so ordinary compared to her?

With these thoughts dominating your mind, you finally fell asleep, the image of the snow-white-haired woman haunting your dreams, as dawn approached, bringing with it the beginning of a new and uncertain journey. You were afraid.

The next morning, you woke up before the sun rise. Your body seemed to act on its own, as if it knew that this was a different morning, the beginning of something that would change your life. You dressed quickly, taking only the essentials, but the essentials of the few that you retained, and went down to the door of the house, still closed at that hour. The air was cold and damp, a light fog hung over the city. As you walked through the almost deserted streets, with the guards at their posts and the cats on the rooftops as the only beings in that scene. Silence weighed on the environment, except for the sound of your own footsteps echoing through the cobblestones. It was as if the city was sleeping deeply, everyone tired. You missed your soft bed.

As you approached the meeting point outside the city walls, you spotted Arlecchino’s carriage. It was large and black, adorned with silver trim that gleamed in the dim light of dawn. Beside it, there she stood, imposing as ever, awaiting your arrival. Her white hair stood out against the darkness of the morning, and her eyes seemed to shine with anticipation when she finally noticed your presence.

— (Name), I’m glad you came. — Arlecchino smiled, as the coachman opened the carriage door for you. — Are you ready?

You hesitated for a brief moment, looking back at the walls of the city that had been your home all your life. Now, however, it seemed so far away, so small compared to what Arlecchino offered. The world beyond those walls called to you, and for the first time, you felt truly tempted to answer it.

— I'm ready. — His answer was firm, despite the butterflies in your stomach that were constantly bothering you. How annoying.

Arlecchino nodded in satisfaction. You climbed into the carriage, feeling like a prisoner who had finally had a chance to escape. Arlecchino sat down beside you, and with a firm order to the driver, the carriage began to move. You felt a slight tremor beneath your feet as it picked up speed.

For a while, neither of you said a word. The sound of the carriage wheels on the uneven ground and the trotting of the horses were the only soundtrack as you left the city behind. You stared out the window, watching the landscape slowly change—the plains, the trees, and finally, the unknown horizon you longed to explore.

— I know it’s hard to leave your life behind, (Name). — Arlecchino’s voice broke the silence. — But trust me, the world is much bigger than this city. What awaits us beyond it is something you could never imagine.

You turned your face to her, curious at the conviction in her voice. Arlecchino had something planned, something that seemed bigger than anything you could comprehend at that moment.

— What exactly do you do, Arlecchino? — You finally asked, curiosity growing inside you. — Who are you?

— Oh yes, so you do have that kind of curiosity after all. I thought you'd never ask. — She gives a smile that sends shivers down your spine.

She smiled enigmatically, that same smile that had drawn you in since the first time you’d seen it. Arlecchino leaned forward slightly, her eyes shining with an almost predatory intensity. The smile was still there, but something about it seemed sharper.

— I do what is necessary, (Name) — she said in a soft tone — The world is full of chaos, of uncertainty. And me? I put things in place. In my own way, of course.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. Something in the back of your mind told you that she wasn’t just talking about solving simple or ordinary problems. There was a depth and darkness to what Arlecchino did—something that transcended what you understood as “normal.”

— Put things in place? — You repeated, trying to get more information, but cautiously.

She laughed, a low, mysterious sound, and leaned back in the carriage seat, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest.

— The balance of the world depends on difficult decisions, on sacrifices that most are unwilling to make. I am the one who acts when others hesitate. I do what needs to be done, and the consequences… well, they are none of my business.

The carriage passed through a dense area of trees, the shadows of the canopies creating a somber atmosphere around it. The silence intensified, and the air seemed to grow heavy inside the carriage. You noticed that Arlecchino was watching you closely, as if he was gauging your reaction.

— Who am I? — She repeated the question, as if savoring every word. — I am the invisible hand that manipulates fate, (Name). But to you, I am the key to a future you never imagined. .

She leaned closer, her eyes locked on his, and her voice dropped to a whisper.

— The only question you need to ask yourself now is: are you willing to pay the price for the power you desire?

The world seemed to close in around you. Arlecchino was offering something dangerous, yet incredibly tempting. The weight of decision was about to fall on your shoulders—and in that moment, you realized that the path ahead would not only be about adventures, but about choices that could define not only your destiny, but that of many others.

— But why me? Why did you offer me this? — You said, now you wondered if you had really made the right choice.

Arlecchino kept his gaze fixed on you, and for the first time, the intensity in his eyes seemed to soften, but only slightly. She shifted in her seat, her fingers clasped calmly in her lap, as if she was considering her next words carefully.

— Why you? — She repeated in an almost thoughtful tone. — Ah, (Name), don’t you realize? — She tilted her head slightly, the smile still present, but more mysterious than ever. — Fate has a funny way of choosing those who least expect it. And you... you have something inside you, something that interests me.

She paused, allowing her words to hang in the air. The tension in the carriage was increasing by the second.

— Don’t think I’m someone who makes random, purposeless offers — she continued, her voice now low and controlled. — I’ve watched you from afar for a long time now, and I know you’ve watched me back. Many have desires, (Name), but few have the courage to pursue them. And even fewer have the potential to shape the world around them.

She leaned in a little closer, and her presence seemed to fill the space between you, as if she were revealing a truth you hadn’t yet been able to see.

— I chose you because I saw in your eyes the same hunger I've seen in others before you. But unlike them, you still have a chance to do something great... or to fall into an abyss. It all depends on the choice you make now. What about me? I offer you the opportunity, but it's up to you to take advantage of what I put on the table for you.

Her gaze sharpened. The air around her seemed to vibrate with a dense energy, and the reality of the situation sank in. Arlecchino had ulterior motives, you knew that, but there was something about her—an unshakable confidence, a promise of power and change—that made the offer seem almost irresistible.

— So tell me, (Name), what will it be? Will you accept my invitation into the unknown, or will you rather continue on the path everyone else follows?

The carriage seemed frozen in time, each second dragging by as you pondered Arlecchino’s words. The silence that followed your question echoed louder than the sound of the wheels on the stone path. She watched patiently, her eyes calculating, as if she were waiting for a mouse to approach the trap. It was almost impossible to ignore the intensity of the situation—this woman, with a power and influence that clearly surpassed your comprehension, was offering you something beyond what you could understand at that moment.

— I’m not asking for your trust, (Name), — Arlecchino said, his voice soft, as if he was reading her thoughts. — Trust is something that is earned over time. What I’m offering is an opportunity. A single choice that can change everything.

Your breathing quickened. You felt a mixture of fear and excitement running down your spine. It was like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss, with the option of jumping or retreating.

— What if I accept? — His voice came out hesitant, almost a whisper.

Her eyes lit up in a way you had never seen before, as if she had been waiting for that exact question.

— If you accept... — She began slowly, choosing her words with precision. — You will not be alone. I will be by your side, guiding you on paths few dare to tread. Paths of power, of influence... of freedom.

She leaned forward, her eyes locking with his, like a predator sure of her prey.

— But know that once the choice is made, there is no turning back. Accepting my invitation is to give up certainties and embrace chaos. But chaos, (Name), has its own order. And those who know how to dance to the rhythm of the music can achieve everything they desire.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you realized that you were at a crossroads, one that could change the course of your life. Arlecchino’s offer was tempting, a promise of something beyond ordinary life. But with it came the unknown, the risk, and the shadows that lurked behind his smile.

Your thoughts were racing at a thousand miles an hour, as the distant sound of the carriage wheels finally filled the silence again. And then, you knew that the decision was in your hands.

— I accept.

Arlecchino’s smile widened at your words. For an instant, you felt as if you had released something much greater than you could comprehend, but at the same time, a strange sensation enveloped you.

— Excellent choice. — Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was laced with dangerous satisfaction. — Now, (Name), you are about to discover that the world as you know it is just a thin layer over something much deeper. And I am going to make sure you see it all.

She reached out her hand, her black leather glove against your skin. As you touched it, you felt a chill run down your arm, she was cold.

— From now on, there will be no secrets between us. — She stepped closer, the tone of her voice becoming lower, almost intimate. — I will give you the tools, the vision, and the power you need. The rest, (Name), is up to you. — Arlecchino held her hand firmly, his eyes never leaving hers.

With that, she leaned back again, releasing his hand slowly, as if sealing an invisible agreement. The air in the carriage felt denser now, the air almost palpable with the promise of an uncertain but possible future.

You had made your choice. And somehow you knew there was no going back. You were on a tightrope.

The carriage rocked gently as the city unfolded around you, a blur of shadows and lights. Arlecchino watched out the window, his gaze lost, as if he saw something beyond what was before you. The silence between you became charged with meaning, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of journey you were about to embark on.

— Are you nervous? — Arlecchino asked, his eyes never leaving the landscape. Her voice was soft, but there was an underlying challenge in her words.

— A little — you admitted, sincerity slipping out before you could think twice — There’s no need to be nervous, I’m on your side.

You blushed. Your cheeks heated up, and you looked away for a moment, trying to hide the blush that was taking over your face. Arlecchino’s words sounded unexpectedly gentle, a subtle change in her usual enigmatic tone. You tried to maintain your composure, but your heart beat faster at her proximity.

She laughed softly, the sound warm yet laden with a slight teasing tone.

— Now, (Name), do you really think you’d be alone on this journey? — Arlecchino leaned in slightly, and his piercing eyes met hers. — I’m not the type to abandon an ally.

You felt the intensity of her gaze, and her words, while comforting, also carried a weight that you couldn't yet fully understand. Still, something about her presence made it seem like, no matter how complex the path ahead was, you wouldn't face it alone.

— I'm here — she said in a softer tone now, almost intimate. — From beginning to end.

The promise contained in those words echoed within you, and the feeling of nervousness slowly transformed into something different: a strange mix of confidence and anticipation.

— Thank you — you replied, still feeling the heat on your face, but now firmer.

#👘》 fanfiction #👘》 my fics #proshipper safe #proshippers against censorship #op is a proshipper #proship #proship positivity #proshipp #proshippers are valid #proshippers please interact #proshippers are welcome

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stormblessed95 · 3 years ago

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There is enough homophobia to deal with on a regular basis without logging on here and reading the 'takes' of people who think they are doing a moral service by calling Jikook 'shippers' out for 'shipping', or 'taking things too far', or being 'too convinced', or 'labeling people' (who must be presumed straight until explicitly stating otherwise). Until homosexuality is normalized in every society; until the trauma of centuries worth of generational stigma has been processed; until no one is expected to 'come out' or address their sexuality as if it falls outside of the norm; until we have equal rights, safety, dignity and representation everywhere; until no one on earth is murdered,fired, or lawfully 'punished' on the basis of their orientation, I reserve my right to interpret queerness and homoromanticism in art and actions where there is cause for me to do so.

By condemning all readings of romance in Jikook's content (see, Dynamite Christmas Remix selfie cam, MOTS1 Hickey, 'I'm Still Me', Tokyo GCF, Saipan GCF, 'Waking up and seeing Jungkook', ear sucking at RB, and much much more) you play into covert systems of homophobia. Is it ok for entertainment companies to "market using ships", but not ok for LGBTQ fans to engage in queer readings of content that explicitly seems to invite this? Is it ok for companies to wink at you and tease homoeroticism as long as you don't see it as in any way indicative of actual queerness, homoromanticism or coming from a subjective experience?

Art is sensual and often plays with aspects of eros. So must all reactions and interpretations of eroticism be natured heterosexual in order to not be seen as presuming, incorrect, or perverse?

There are many ways to say that you are intolerant of queerness. This one happens to be infuriating because so many people think they have a moral high ground. Just say you don't want your faves implicated in gay shit or that you don't even mind them seeming gay as long as we all assume it's just for show and for $$$ and move on.

I can't say why certain Jikook content is the way it is. I do not pretend to know their motivations or the motivations of their company. I think it would be very odd to think of certain things as nothing more than a string of coincidences or bad takes/wishful thinking. I may be incorrect. But please stop seeing queer people's expressions of connectedness, resonance and 'seen-ness' as crimes against the artists themselves.

Hi, sorry. Sorry. You dropped this, please allow me to return it to you 😍

You said this perfectly anon. Thank you. I have nothing to add.

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kelca13 · 4 years ago

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Like you, I have not noticed any disparity between Jungkook initiating touch with Jimin vs doing it with others. It seems like a truly irrelevant issue and a red herring. It isn't like we are hanging out with Bangtan 24/7 without the intrusion of cameras or watching an unedited, unmediated 24/7 live stream. We don't have a full picture of all of their daily interactions. Personally, seeing men express tactile, platonic affection for one another without shame or fear about it compromising their masculinity feels important. Generally, this is not the way cis men, especially heart throb/sex symbol types, are presented in western media.

Sociocultural mores for men touching are different in SK than in the anglosphere. It's the expectation or presumption that, somehow, LGBTQ men are just going to remove themselves from this paradigm that gets me 😠🧐. If someone literally grew up surrounded by one extremely close and intimate social group, why would comprehension of their sexual identity *possibly* or getting into a relationship *possibly* suddenly disqualify them from expressing bonds with a same sex freind group in the normalized and expected way? If you exprience a same sex attraction, does that mean you are suddenly likely to fall for every same sex person you see? Should you stop hugging your platonic same sex best freind? No. Why would someone feel disrespected watching their partner hug their mutual best freinds, when there obviously isn't any underlying attraction there?

Maybe we are just too used to physical contact between adult men fitting exclusively into 'sex' or 'violence' categories in our media. Maybe this is why some fans brains short circuit when there are thigh pats etc. Purely from a subjective standpoint, I do not feel ANY sense of eroticism when I see, say, Hobi and Jungkook snuggling or touching. Ditto for Jinkook etc. When Taehyung plays with Jungkook's hair or earring during an interview, I find it cute and sweet. There might also be a slight bristle of age hierarchy and its power dynamic going on there, with Taehyung being Jungkook's elder and so able to treat him as a bit of a doll, as one blogger on here so aptly put it. (I love Tae! I love Vminkook! Please don't get me wrong. Their interactions are straight up healing and lovely).

Jikook feel different to me and I can't use the scientific method to validate this. It is just a feeling and impression that many other people also seem to share. Apprehending a unique intimacy between two people is different from being able to quantify it.

Also, hypothetically, isn't it possible that one might be slightly more trepidatious to grope and touch someone with whom one is in a same sex relationship in a discriminating and traditional society? There is more to be said for context and intimate quality of touches than frequency. Jikook's touches at the beginning of Jungkook's 190518 vlive feel infinitely more vulnerable and revealing (even to the point of some viewers feeling worried or uncomfortable on their behalf) than when Jungkook drapes himself adorably over Jin and Hobi in the pool. One of the reasons that something like RB is so moving- even almost 2 years later- is how exposed it feels. The gesture is so deeply intimate and yet it is done so casually, and the response to it so overflowing with love and awe. This single instance of physicality, with its full context of emotions, is really something. It breaches sociocultural norms. It is unguarded. It is speaks louder than a howling wilderness of thigh pats.

“It speaks louder than a howling wilderness of thigh pats.”

👏 👏 👏

Thank you for sending this, Anon. I don’t have much to add because you said it all so well!

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 5 years ago

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Aaahh- May you write a story about team rwby going off and exploring and they split into rb and wy and the bumbles talk about each other while apart? I had a dream about this and I thought it'd be cute! I love your writing and I thought you'd be best to bring it to life. If you don't want to just ignore this!

I may. Not sure how it turned out in comparison to your dream but I hope you enjoy, mate 😊

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Blake, I need you with me. I need your eyes. Yang, you’re with Weiss.”

Blake instantly shot Yang a worried glance. They hadn’t been separated from each other to such a degree since the intercom tower in Argus. She wanted Yang to understand that that wouldn’t happen again. She needed Yang to know that she wouldn’t let anything happen again.

“It’s okay.” Yang said, voice soft and eyes softer. “Go.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Blake said, head tilted up stubbornly.

“I know you will.” Yang whispered, gently grasping her hand for a moment before Ruby and Weiss called out to them respectively.

“Show time.” Yang said to Blake, giving her a two fingered salute and a wink before her expression softened and she slowly turned around to walk to Weiss, sending a final look over her shoulder to Blake.

Blake gave a worried hum and turned to Ruby. Yang was right. Time to go. Even if it did feel like a physical pain.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Mine cart to your right.”

“Oh! Thanks Blake!”

Blake smiled. She supposed it was a testament to how much her friend and leader trusted her to lead her through an environment where the young reaper was at a disadvantage.

Ruby was using her scroll’s torch to light the way but there were several dangers that presented themselves so that Blake’s night vision was needed.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Blake.” Ruby said softly as they made their way through the mine.

“I’m glad that my eyes are appreciated, then.” Blake said dryly, smirking slightly at the exasperated sigh that escaped her friend.

“You known that’s not what I mean.” Ruby huffed, carefully stepping over the tracks. “I just mean that- well. Team RWBY’s not the same without you. We all missed you. Especially Yang.”

“I missed you all too.” Blake said shakily into the air. It still seemed so… unreal to be back with her favourite people. To be fighting alongside them.

“Especially Yang?” Ruby asked, a clear smirk in her voice.

“Well. She’s- you know, she’s my partner! We’re compatible. We work well together.” Blake said stiffly. She did not need to be teased by her partner’s sister right now. Not when she was still sorting out her emotions.

“Yeah. Compatible. In more ways than one.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What are you trying to say, Weiss?”

Yang huffed as they moved along through the mine master’s quarters. She loved Weiss like a sister and she was certainly living up to the annoying aspect of such a title.

“I’m just saying that it’s nice to see you letting Blake in again. You two work well together and have the hardest hitting combination attack in our team.” Weiss said simply, opening a data base with a grimace as dust flew off of it. “But I suppose it makes sense.”

“How do you mean?” Yang asked hesitantly. When Weiss turned around with a sly smirk, Yang knew she was in trouble.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me.” Ruby sang playfully as she sent Crescent Rose through a Sabyr.

“Ruby. Soulmates are not a thing. They’re a fairytale.” Blake said, agitation spiking. This is not the kind of conversation she wanted to be having. Not when she and Yang were still stuck in some kind of limbo!

“Okay. So tell me that you never felt like it was destiny. Tell me that you never felt a pull to her.” Ruby asked gently.

“Of course it’s not destiny! I chose her for a reason, Ruby! Not because of some red string of fate!”

“Then why did you choose her?”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Because Ruby needed a friend and Blake helped her.” Yang said quietly. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face what she and Blake had. Or at least ready to admit it out loud.

“And?” Weiss prompted gently.

“And because she was pretty? Alluring? What do you want from me, here?” Yang sighed wearily as she lifted a box down from a cupboard.

“Alluring? In what way?”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“She was so different to everything I had known. Obviously strong and capable, but she seemed kind. Joyful and light. Happy. I… had forgotten what that was like. I missed it.” Blake said softly as she and Ruby walked past another SDC crate. Gods. How could she undo all that hatred?

“So you chose her because she was happy?” Ruby asked curiously. “Because you wanted to be happy again?”

“No, I knew there was more to her than met the eye. I don’t know!” She said, frustrated with her own feelings. “She just… was the exact opposite of what I was used to! And when I saw her fight, it was like I already knew her moves!” Blake felt her breath hitch. No… it was impossible… but she continued, hands shaking as she slowly came to a realisation. “And when we first made proper eye contact, I could have sworn I met her somewhere before. It was like… I may not have known her but I knew her…” Blake came to a stop and turned to Ruby, voice thick and eyes wide with tears as she finished in a whisper; “it was like I knew her soul.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“… like I knew her soul.” Yang murmured, a small, shy smile forming on her face. “And as I got to know her, it was just confirming everything I already knew. Her smile and her laugh. Her fears and passion. Her dedication and loyalty. The way she doesn’t give up. It was like I was always meant to know all of these little things about her. Like she just fitted perfectly into every missing piece.” Yang said distantly. “Oh God.” She breathed as she turned to Weiss, eyes wide.

“Well. I think that that confirms my theory.” Weiss said, a soft, fond smile on her face.

“I wonder if she felt it too. If she still does.” Yang said quietly. She looked down at her feet anxiously. A hand on her bicep made her look up at Weiss.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“I’m pretty sure that Yang felt it too, Blake. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Blake swallowed thickly. Once upon a time, she had believed in soulmates and meant to be’s. She had believed in Adam and thought he was hers. But when that belief shattered, she assured herself she would never let herself believe again.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Both women had had their wings broken by life. But perhaps what they truly needed was to heal alongside another. Somebody who could lift them up when they needed it. Somebody who believes in them.

Maybe it wasn’t a red string of fate that bound them but a feather. As light and free as girls themselves. Never trapped, but always returning to what grounds them; each other.

#rwby #blake belladonna #bumbleby #yang xiao long #fanfic

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imthepunchlord · 5 years ago

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For all the new things, I kinda wished they showed all of this before SwSh was released, now it's a bit more pricey and I feel like it's kinda rushed. Also for the Mystery Dungeon, I'm excited for that bit I really hope that include all the starters and non starters as well in the final.

I wish they went ahead and pushed back SaS so it’d be released 2020, with this expansion back already included, and the new places we go to can be unlocked during our adventure or as postgame. I would’ve fine waiting and would’ve preferred it, especially to give them a chance to do more with the main story which is pretty weak and made little sense, and Rose was a very forced in villain. Also made no sense in the story climax. Watching playthroughs and seeing the climax of SaS I’m just...

Its also frustrating that you get to hear about things happening and not actually witness or help. Like, its nice having adults acknowledge that you’re a kid, don’t worry about it we’ll handle it, but at the same time, that’s a chunk of story we have a right to see, and we’re kids in this game, we don’t always do what adults say we should follow and see what’s going on. That could’ve been something optional. Go to event to see what’s happening or skip it to go to the next gym.

And this is turning into a rant so I’m going to put this below. For those that just want to read my comments on Mystery Dungeon, scroll down till you get to the Pikachu gif, I’ll talk about it below.

Also there could’ve been improvements with the rivals. Marnie is suuuuper intriguing and I love her, Bede I also like though that’s more me missing mean rivals and man, he’s a brat and I say that with affection. But in the grand scheme of things, they felt pointless. More could’ve been done to include them. And Hop. God, Hop. I know people like him, but from what I’ve seen, he seems like the most annoying “friend rival” made to date. He does not know what personal space is. He waits for you in front of gyms. He waits for you on new routes. He has to comment on almost every move you make in your fights with him.

I don’t even own the games but just from the playthroughs I’ve watched I’m just... go away. Leave the lead alone. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, waiting for you. It also feels like he only got endorsed because he’s Leon’s younger brother. There’s nothing about him that I like. And, I don’t know why he gets the other wolf legendary? What makes him worthy?What makes him want to be a Professor in the future? That’s out of nowhere.

Something more could’ve been done with Hop, maybe an arc of him resenting you a little because every match you beat him, and he’s the Champion’s younger brother and you just seem to stay ahead. Maybe let us have more scene of him talking with Sonia since he’s going to be her future assistant. If he’s going to be constantly stalking us and waiting for us, then yeah, let’s at least better build up where his character will go.

Then there’s the issue of pokemon. With it pretty much confirmed they just reused models from gen 7, yeah, there’s no reason to not include more pokemon. If not the National Dex, which wouldn’t bother me too much, then go ahead and add about half. At most, I’d love pokemon included that would make the most sense. Like, lion is a big symbol throughout all of Europe. There should be a lion in Galar, either Litleo or Shinx returning if not a new lion pokemon. And with the expansion packs, yeah, they’re already adding 200 each pack.

And a lot of this dlc should already be in the game. If 400 pokemon are going to be added in, they should already be there. The new Giga forms should already be there and we should’ve seen the Giga Venusaur and Blastoise the same time as Charizard.

I’m also salty that there’s no going to Kalos. Maybe it’ll be a future expansion, and that’s a dlc I wouldn’t mind, but those are two very linked countries they’re based on. And Galar truly isn’t a big region. The Wild Area isn’t as big as it could be. Like, it doesn’t have to be BotW big, but it could’ve been bigger than what we got. And if not expanding the Wild Area, we could’ve had Kalos as a new region to go to, and more gyms for us to do.

ALSO.

I am not a fan of you refacing the gyms and having them act as your “Elite Four”.

They’ve already been fought. Aside from the first two, you’ve already fought all the star Giga forms they have. Its a really lazy decision. At least, you can have the two first gym leaders come in since you didn’t fight their star Giga forms, and include the other two version exclusive gym leaders as the other two. Just for some freshness in this final challenge.

I know they’re not big on voice acting, but, they should’ve put some form of VA into these games. Its a little awkward to get animated cutscenes and there’s no voices coming forth. And its at its worst when you get to Piers and you see him singing away, I presume loudly, into his mic and its just awkward cause there’s no voice and you can hear him tapping his foot to the music and its just so off putting to watch cause something is missing: a voice! And you know what’s the kicker? Pokemon has included voice acting before.

youtube

There is no reason to not do something similar, at least for Piers’ intro so its not so awkward to watch.

And then post game... the official post game... I, I honestly can’t say what is even going on? Those two blonde bimbos, those designs, who agreed to pass them? For sword guy, I don’t know whether I should be laughing or uncomfortable. Its like, an in between especially when his hair flops around. Also, their reasoning, they’re causing chaos in Galar because they didn’t like a book Sonia wrote???

The villains in these games are just so dumb.

Like, Rose had a good motive but, he is still forced in. And he activates the climax for no reason. He was promised by Leon that he would help with Eternatus, all he had to do was wait through one match. One match that would’ve been 30 minutes at most, roughly. Yet he couldn’t wait for one match and went ahead and woke up Eternatus, does a video asking for help, and when you arrive, stops you for a battle that doesn’t make sense to have cause he asked for help why is he holding you up with a battle??

And Team Yell. Supposed to be like, a 2nd Team Skull and these guys could dream to live up to Team Skull. They can’t. They’re not funny or enjoyable at all. And my friend brought up a good point on the issue of having Team Yell based on punks when they’re supposed to be the “villainous” team. Punks, historically, were rebelling against an unfair system, they were progressive and revolutionary. They stood up for LBGT rights, they stood for having individual freedom, and just wanted to break the restrictions society wanted to place on people, let people express themselves and be who they want to be.

If you want Team Yell to be a 2nd Skull and play around with punks as their theme, then they should’ve been set up to be red herrings as well. Be wary at first and then later find that they have hearts of gold, and mean well, even if they can be a tad extreme sometimes. And maybe they can help build up the danger of Rose, who in turn wants to paint them in with a bad image since they’re going against him and what’s normal in society.

Anyway... Sword and Shield honestly should’ve been pushed back. They should’ve been saved for 2020, or even 2021, or however how much time they need. I would’ve been fine waiting. A lot of fans would be. But what we got wasn’t worth the $60 it was being sold at, and definitely not worth the $90 its being sold at with the expansion packs, and as far as I know, these are very, very small areas to explore. Cause as we’ve seen with SaS, they built it up to be big and grand and, well, the Wild Area was smaller than expected and the whole was far shorter than expected. You could beat it in 20 hours roughly.

I even have mixed feelings on there being no enhanced version, cause these games do have potential, they just needed more time and polish, and then it could’ve worth the $60 price. But also thankful that there’s not another 2nd version and we may be getting a few expansion packs instead.

Though I do think a lot they’re bringing in should already be in the game.

Anyway, enough ranting about Sas, onto Mystery Dungeon!

Demo I think could’ve been a little longer, they stop you before you go on the Skarmory mission, I think it could’ve been a better placement to end after the Skarmory mission.

Anyway, I like the changes so far. I love you can choose a different pokemon if you don’t like what you got from the test. I love that you have an updated move pool, though I feel kinda OP but you also kinda need it for these games cause I remember them being so hard and as a starter that can’t evolve till like, post game, yeah you’re going to need that help. I love that you get to wear a little scarf. Design wise, a little weird at first but it grew on me. Kinda reminds me of Okami.

By trailer, for sure they’re adding more pokemon in. Lucario is seen in the team, when before, you only saw Lucario as a statue in Red Blue, I believe? Its been a long time. But they only had Gen 1-3 in RB, and Lucario is there so I would think they’d add in a lot more pokemon.

For starters, I’m hopeful that beating the game, if you replay, you’ll get more options for the starters to play as and have as your partner. I’d loooove to have a chance to play as Popplio. Mega Evolution is confirmed, I wonder if regional forms would also be playable, like if we could evolve into Alolan Marowak or be one of the other two regional Meowths. Otherwise, everyone you could be in the old game is there, with no gender restriction! You can be a female Cubone! A male Eevee! A female Cyndaquil! I’m so happy about that since as a kid, I wanted to play Cyndaquil but never got it in the test and had to look it up and was bummed that it was male only and I wanted to be a girl.

My biggest hope though is that with this, we’ll have a chance to play two player, since you have a team of two usually, and your friend or sibling or SO can play your partner.

I am pleasantly surprised with it so far, though I will be holding off when its released in a few months, just going to listen to all reviews once they beat the game and if its very positive, cause SaS had a strong start and then went down hill with Gamefreak rushing it and cutting corners. I’m hopeful for this remake but cautious still.

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himiko-yumehellno · 5 years ago

Text

Saiouma Week Day Six: Appreciation Day

Title: Three Days to Set Up a Confession is As Easy As Cookies and Roses

Summary: Shuichi employs Rantaro's help to confess to Kokichi. Rantaro's got this.

Word Count: 2260

Note: I don't really talk about other writers or artists I like (I mostly just rb their stuff on Tumblr and leave comments when I can), buuut... I chose one of my favorite saiouma artists, @natsumiheart , for this day of Saiouma Week! The piece that inspired this fic can be found here. I'll admit that this fic only briefly mentions the comic that inspired it, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

+++

Rantaro wasn't new to being a wingman. He'd done it for plenty of his sisters before, and he was a frequent choice for people to go to for romance advice, even if he himself was aro. Still, he can't say that he had ever been in a wingman situation quite like this before.

Because not only was Shuichi requesting help from him in confessing to someone, but he was asking for help in confessing to Kokichi Ouma. AKA, the person literally everyone knew had a crush on Shuichi.

Except, it seems, Shuichi himself.

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that? I want to make sure I heard right." Rantaro would have pinched his nose in exasperation if he wasn't so polite. Instead, he merely crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Shuichi, who was glancing to the side and not making eye contact. "You want my help in confessing to Kokichi?" The guy who calls you his beloved? The guy who flirts with you every other day? The guy who I hear endless talking from about how you're so amazing it should be a crime?

Shuichi shifted his weight, a frown on his face. "Er, yes, of course, if you don't want to, that's fine too, I just thought I should ask since you helped Kaede out with her and Kirumi, and, well..."

As Shuichi trailed off, Rantaro took a deep breath, letting it out and starting to plan how he could do this. Since he already knew both of them loved each other... "Alright, give me like, three days."

"What?!" Shuichi snapped his head up to look at him, jaw dropped. For once, he didn't seem to care that he was being loud, and his eyes were wide and he visibly struggled to find the words to express his surprise. "But – three?! How – I know you're friends with him, but –"

Shuichi's rambling stopped as Rantaro calmly put a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him with his trademark easygoing grin. Shuichi blinked at him, and Rantaro squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Hey, don't worry about it, I'm serious. I'm gonna go find Kokichi and talk to him, so don't wait up on me, okay?"

Shuichi nodded slowly, seemingly coming out of his shock as he stepped back from Rantaro. "You... Are you sure you can help me in only three days?"

Rantaro wasn't surprised at Shuichi's surprise, since it had taken weeks for Kaede and Kirumi to get together, even with Rantaro's help. But on the other hand, what Shuichi didn't know was that his crush liked him back, and Rantaro was going to use that to his full advantage. "Yeah, I got it. I'm not a suspicious guy, remember?"

Shuichi couldn't hide his snicker at the inside joke that had come from one time the class played Clue, and Rantaro waved as he walked away, already pulling out his phone to call Kokichi and request a hang out.

Now, let's see if he can put this plan into action...

—

Day one of Rantaro's plan: a hangout where Kokichi and Shuichi baked cookies together.

Rantaro hadn't needed to say anything more than "cookies" to get Kokichi to agree, and after a quick text to Shuichi to meet them in the school kitchen, the three of them found themselves mixing batter that Rantaro bought from the store yesterday after hanging out with Kokichi.

So far, Rantaro's favorite part of this whole thing had got to be when Shuichi walked into breakfast with Kaito and Maki, and Kokichi muttered to him, "Do we even need the sun anymore?" only to find, with quickly covered up elation, that Shuichi stayed after breakfast to bake with them.

Rantaro had snorted at seeing Kokichi hide his real emotions behind a cocky attitude. Kokichi had socked him in the arm.

That said, a close second favorite would have been when Kokichi called him over to "check if the batter looked right." Of course, he only called Rantaro over to talk without Shuichi hearing.

"Alright, avocado dork," Kokichi had hissed at him; his batter was perfectly fine, and Kokichi had wasted no time getting to the point. "I know you and your weird matchmaking thing. Are you trying to set me up with Shuichi?"

Rantaro only shrugged. "Maybe," he replied nonchalantly, and Kokichi punched him again, both because there was no way to tell whether or not that was a lie, and because it could be true. Thankfully, Kokichi wasn't very strong, and Rantaro didn't see any bruises when they finished up, and he went home with two happy friends, and a bagful of cookies.

Shuichi texted him and thanked him for the help getting closer to Kokichi today. Kokichi called and said he was going to steal all his cookies at midnight for trying to set him and Shuichi up today. Rantaro just laughed, made a tick mark on his calendar, and started preparing for the next day's matchmaking event.

—

Day two of Rantaro's plan: trying to convince Kokichi to confess.

"C'mon, I'm sure nothing bad will come of telling him."

"'Nothing bad' my ass! He'll hate me even more than he normally does, obviously!"

Rantaro rubbed his forehead, giving Kokichi a deadpan look as Kokichi huffed and turned away, staring at the books laid out on the table in front of him. The few others in the school library didn't pay them much attention; their whispered debate was going nowhere, and Rantaro was starting to wonder if he should have brought Kokichi somewhere else to talk about this.

"Kokichi, Shuichi isn't really the 'hating' type. You know this. I know this. He's so far from the type of person to hate someone we have a literal fan club for him. You started it, shouldn't you know this?"

Kokichi muttered something under his breath that Rantaro couldn't hear. "Sorry, what was that?"

Kokichi picked his head up from where he had been scowling at a page about the physical geography of Mongolia. "I said, that he wouldn't believe me anyway! I'm too much of a liar; remember when I tried to warn Kaede about Miu pulling a prank on her and the dummie walked right into it anyway?"

"You're not much of a liar with me," Rantaro offered, but privately he had to admit Kokichi had a point. That hadn't been one of Kaede's better days, but oddly enough she became a little better at spotting Kokichi's lies after that incident. "And Shuichi knows you well enough to believe you when you're being serious."

"Hah!" Kokichi scoffed, just a tad too loudly, and quickly got shushed by a library assistant. Kokichi stuck his tongue out at them when their back was turned, then turned back to Rantaro with one of his more serious expressions, slumping in his chair. "I only lie less with you cause you buy me Panta – but that's a lie! ... And why should I trust that he won't start hating me after he knows a liar like me thinks of him like that? He hates liars like me; just accept it..."

Rantaro took in a slow breath as he watched Kokichi deflate. He hadn't wanted to play this card, but if Kokichi left him no choice...

"Give it a go, tomorrow afternoon, and if you do it I'll be DICE's getaway driver for the next month." Rantaro closed his eyes, but he already knew Kokichi was probably gaping at him. After months of pestering for Rantaro to join DICE or take part in their pranks, he was offering to be their driver, just like that? Rantaro held up a hand before Kokichi could say anything. "If it goes badly, you can just say your confession was a lie, right? Just make sure I'm there to see it happen."

Rantaro opened one eye, and was pleased to see Kokichi with a blank expression. That probably meant he was thinking it over; Rantaro knew he couldn't resist an offer like that, and smiled as he rested his head on one hand.

Kokichi took his time thinking. Rantaro waited patiently.

"Alright, fine!" Kokichi agreed finally, again being shushed as he had grown too loud again. Kokichi didn't stick his tongue out this time, instead grinning as he stuck a hand out at Rantaro. "You better buy me a box full of Panta too!"

"Of course." Rantaro took the offered hand, and as Kokichi shook it with a pretend air of dignity, Rantaro chuckled. Now, to see if he could get Shuichi to confess as a bonus...

—

Day three of Rantaro's plan: picking out flowers with Shuichi.

It hadn't taken much pushing from Rantaro for Shuichi to agree to buy Kokichi flowers. Sure, he had been embarrassed about the idea at first, but they weren't arguing about confessing for a half hour (unlike with Kokichi), so Rantaro counted his wins. Plus, Kokichi was going to be stopping by Shuichi's place to confess in... Half an hour? Twenty minutes? Fifty? Kokichi was finicky like that, but Rantaro didn't mind. He just had to make sure they were done and back to the dorms by three pm.

Easy as... Oh, hey, cool, they dyed roses blue!

"Hey Shuichi, take a look at this," Rantaro called. Shuichi, a little down the aisle looking at some bellflowers, glanced up at him before heading over, eyes analytical.

"Blue... Roses?" Shuichi smiled, shaking his head as Rantaro chuckled. "Well, they do look nice. Do you think Kokichi would like them?"

"Honestly? Yes, completely." Rantaro smirked as he imagined Kokichi's face, being given blue roses by Shuichi. He didn't blush often, but Rantaro knew Kokichi's face would be bright red if Shuichi gave him something he found cool. "I think he'd find them interesting, don't you think?"

Shuichi narrowed his eyes at the flowers and tilted his head in thought; Rantaro shrugged and left him to it, checking his phone to text Kokichi and ask where he was currently.

Twenty minutes and a purchase later, Rantaro was giving Shuichi a last-minute pep talk as they headed towards the dorms of Hope's Peak. Shuichi brought up a couple of his concerns with Rantaro, but Rantaro shot them down as swiftly as they were spoken. Shuichi was nervous about what to say? "Just keep it short and simple. Offer the roses, say you like him, and wait for his answer." Shuichi was worried Kokichi would be lying if he said he liked him back? "Knowing him, he'll probably immediately declare his love was a lie, so you don't have to worry about being tricked, just accept that this is his way of turning you down. It's not the best way, but on the other hand, it's not the worst."

The pep talk was kept short, because as soon as they reached the second floor of the dorms, Rantaro paused, gave Shuichi a thumbs up, and pointed to where Kokichi was waiting with a tapping foot and an unusually sharp outfit outside Shuichi's room.

Shuichi gave a light gasp; he glanced to Rantaro once more for reassurance, and slowly, hesitantly, he made his way towards Kokichi. As Kokichi checked the watch Rantaro wasn't even aware he had, Shuichi quietly brought out the roses in front of him, seeming to shake off his nerves as he took a deep breath.

Rantaro held in a chuckle as he leaned on the wall next to the stairwell door.

C'mon... C'mon, notice hi – yes! Haha, eye contact made!

Kokichi had glanced up, and Rantaro had to try hard to hold in his giggles as he saw how red Kokichi got within a few seconds. Of course, a blink later and the blush was gone, and Kokichi was casually talking with Shuichi with his hands behind his head.

Rantaro couldn't hear them well, but that was a normal experience for him when it came to match making. He simply leaned forward a tad and strained to make out what they were saying.

"... -cy... ting you here!"

".... Wanted ... Wait, this is my room, why – nevermind."

"So? Does Shuichi ... something... say to me?"

Rantaro crossed his fingers. Do it, do it, do it, do it!

"Yeah, actually. I... you these."

Shuichi offered Kokichi the flowers, and Rantaro silently cheered as he watched Kokichi blush again, taking the flowers with what was probably a snarky comment, though Rantaro couldn't hear it from here. Shuichi went red as well, though not on the same level as Kokichi, and Rantaro inwardly happy danced.

Ooh, but it seems the show wasn't over yet. There were still the mutual feelings to confess!

"Ooh, why... Shuichi... ?

"Er... You see..."

Shuichi glanced back at Rantaro discreetly. Rantaro made sure to give him the very specific thumbs up and grin found in that HTTYD3 meme. Shuichi gave him a light nod, smiling, and turned back to Kokichi, taking a deep breath.

"I really like you, Kokichi. Romantically."

Rantaro beamed, pumped the air with his fist; he had to restrain himself from outwardly celebrating too much, but c'mon, who wouldn't be excited?! Especially when it involved a best friend? Rantaro sighed in relief as he thought about how he'd no longer have to listen to Kokichi's pining rants, and as he realized that he should probably leave and start planning how to tease Kokichi at their next hang out, he nearly missed Kokichi pull Shuichi down into their first kiss.

Rantaro chuckled and left, humming a song that played while he was at the flower shop.

Now, if only he could get Kaito and Korekiyo to stop being oblivious that easily...

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bundeslihaha · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 11: Under the Spotlight

The Media Days have started! Join the Bundesliga boys and girls as they prepare for the part of the season they wished they could skip!

Whoever’s documenting us, SV Darmstadt 98 thought as she reread the address on her phone, must be lazy as fuck…

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised at her vocabulary – hanging out (well, arguing) with Karlsruhe, Kaiserslautern and Braunschweig would do that to anyone…

Hmm, speaking of those three, it was unfortunate for such big clubs with rich history to not get promoted, wasn’t it? But naaaah, Darmstadt grinned mischievously. She was definitely looking forward to filling the next page of her football fairytale!

FC Ingolstadt 04 looked up at his coach slowly. “Papa?” he called, tugging the sleeve of Ralph Hasenhüttl’s shirt.

“Yes, Ingolstadt?” Papa asked. His face looked sooo bored, but Ingolstadt knew anyone would be, like really! It seemed like they’d been on this train for years! “Papa, are we there yet?” he whined, secretly hoping that asking would make the trip faster.

“Not yet, Ingolstadt,” Papa replied, messing his hair. “No, Papa, don’t do that!” he protested, swatting his large hand off his head, “I’m not a kid anymore!” He was already eleven years old, okay? He didn’t need a Papa. He wanted to live alone like RB Leipzig, to do whatever and whenever he wanted! Why did the bosses still force him to live with a “father figure”? He’s a personification, not a normal kid! Why should he go to a boring school? Why should he be watched while eating? Everyone knew he hated vegetables! Why?!

“Ingolstadt,” Papa said, touching his cheek instead, “I’m sorry, okay? You know I like your hair when it’s neatly trimmed like this.” He chuckled a little. Ingolstadt pouted. “Of course you like it, Papa, you trimmed it yourself!” the boy playfully punched his caretaker, “Why can’t I have long hair like Bochum?”

“Bochum?” Papa asked, raising an eyebrow, “His hair is awful. Especially with that hairclip.”

The little Bavarian groaned. “But- but I want my hair to touch my shoulders! It’s so cool, Papa!” He patted Papa’s shoulder for good measure, but all he got was an unconvinced glare. “Fine,” he grumbled, “at least I can grow bangs? Like Karlsruhe?”

Papa’s eyes were unfocused. Maybe he was picturing his (old, haha!) bully, with his shaggy brown hair.

“He looks like he doesn’t have a comb,” Papa finally said. Ingolstadt decided to change tactics. In a second, he was staring at his coach with dark eyes as big as saucers, causing Hasenhüttl to wince and changed the topic himself. “Anyway, are you excited for the Media Days?”

Ingolstadt’s face brightened that instant. “Of course, Papa! I can’t wait to meet the others!” He was jumping on his seat now, earning him annoyed looks from other passengers. “Especially Bayern. She’s so… so badass!”

When Ingolstadt realized what he’d just said, his hands comically flew to cover his mouth. “Sorry, Papa,” he squeaked.

Now, Ralph Hasenhüttl couldn’t bring himself to be harsh to the spoiled, irritating boy that was the physical embodiment of FC Ingolstadt, but he couldn’t the child grow up with no manners, either.

“Ingolstadt,” Hasenhüttl said, a patronizing hand on the 11-year-old’s shoulder, “what did I tell you about bad words?”

The personification sighed, head hung in shame. “I must not say them, Papa,”

“Good,” the manager nodded. Let’s all pray the first division clubs wouldn’t undo everything he’d taught his ‘son’…

Elsewhere…

As usual, Europe-bound clubs gather on a corner of whatever meeting place they were in (in this case, studio), FC Augsburg looking out of place.

The UEL club was sandwiched between 25-time-German champions, FC Bayern München, and her chaser, VfL Wolfsburg, his lean body a stark contrast from the fanservice muscles of the two. It didn’t trouble Augsburg much, though. What troubled him was how… casually the six other clubs spoke of trebles, Spanish giants and the like, and though he was an expert at poker faces, intimidation froze him in place.

“Earth to Augsburg,” Bayern called with a hard pat on his back, “you still there?”

He blinked before meeting her gaze. “Yeah.”

“Don’t be so shy, mate,” Gladbach added, flashing the ginger a toothy grin. “It’s my first time in Champions League, too. Ish."

“But you’ve been in Europa,” Augsburg said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but you’ll make it!” Dortmund cheered from opposite his seat, a fist punching the air. “Sure, I’ll be your rival later on, but I’m rooting for you! You’re too good to go down…” He trailed off. Must be remembering Freiburg, Augsburg mused, feeling a pang of sympathy for the relegated club and the friend she’d left behind. Would he have to sacrifice Europe for domestic survival, like she had?

“Tch. No one’s ‘too good’ to go down,” Gladbach spat as if forcing everyone to recall his recent brushes with relegation.

“But I think you’ll do well, FCA,” Schalke piped up, a grudging note in his deep voice. “You’re more consistent than Lüdenscheid over here,” he poked his fellow Ruhr club right on his ‘BVB 09, Echte Liebe’ tattoo.

“Oh, shut up, Scheiße,” Dortmund snapped, “just because you consistently suck, doesn’t mean you can bully those who don’t.” A sneer twisted Die Schwarzgelben’s handsome face, practically begging the Royal Blues to punch it. And so, Schalke did.

“Ouch,” Gladbach snickered. That was one hell of a punch. Leverkusen hid his snicker behind his hands.

“You…” Dortmund growled, rubbing his aching nose.

With Schalke sneering back, they left the group for a more physical Revierderby.

A chuckle escaped Bayern at her enemies’ antics. “Oi, Augsburg!” she called again. The ginger beside her responded with a ‘hmm’. “How does it feel to watch the two up close?”

Wolfsburg and the Rhine boys stared hard at the younger Bavarian, trying to coax an answer out of the stoic man.

“Funny?” Augsburg answered, with a tone that made it sound like a question. Wolfsburg laughed. “You don’t sound like you mean it!”

The Fuggerstädter shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it.” He really was used to seeing clubs fight. Nürnberg and Fürth's drunken Oktoberfest brawls weren't much different from the Ruhr Valley rivals', really. He hoped he could be used to being in the company of these giants, too…

There were confident people, and then there was Hamburger SV.

Six-time German champion, playoff specialist (Fürth and Karlsruhe could stay in 2. Bundesliga forever, he didn’t care) and especially beater of “oh-so-great” Gladbach, Augsburg and Bayern was entering the studio with a swagger unseen in him before.

Unfortunately, his swag didn't impressed anyone, except if you count Hannover’s friendly ‘hi’ as an expression of awe. Even worse, Mainz and Frankfurt didn’t even try to hide their laughter (or in the case of Hoffenheim, his derisive remarks). Ugh. He should find Werder lest he died of boredom here. He opened his mouth to ask his boyfriend where the shit is, but when he saw Hertha’s suspicious glances, an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head.

“Yo, Karlsruhe’s whore!”

At her death glare, he couldn’t help but think: This photoshoot won’t be so boring after all.

“Welcome to the Bundesliga!” Eintracht Frankfurt exclaimed, snaking a hand around Darmstadt's shoulders with a less-than-friendly laugh. At the physical contact, she tensed, but took it in stride a moment later. “Thank you, Frankfurt. How are you?”

“Great,” the Eagles replied. “And you, Darmstadt?”

She looked up at him with a beam. “Never better!”

“How can you not?” Frankfurt’s hearty laugh rang in the hallway, “really, I can congratulate you all day.” There was a strangely comfortable silence as they walked inside the studio. “Anyway,” the taller man continued, “Ready for the derby?” Challenge sparkled in his red eyes, dangerous yet inviting.

“Of course,” Darmstadt accepted, her blue eyes echoing his. “And I’m gonna win them all!”

If there was one thing every club preferred their archenemy over, that thing would be a makeover.

Bayern was insisting “Hertha’s kind of makeup” didn’t suit her, demanding the poor makeup artist to 'fix her up' the way she did the male personifications.

Stuttgart had had his dark brown dye forcefully removed, leaving his hair very, very blond. “It will bring out your eyes,” the makeup artist had said, his green eyes glinting with evil.

Even Hertha almost cried when they said she had to take off her bow (a parting gift from her lover years ago) despite accepting her new, layered hairstyle.

So when 1. FC Köln came in to a horde of dissatisfied clubs, he feared for himself as he took his seat on the torture chair.

“Hi, Köln,” his makeup artist, a young woman whose build reminded him of Nuernberg. “Don’t be afraid, ‘kay?”

“Uh…” Köln said, “do I have to take this off?” He indicated at the thin hair tie holding his ponytail.

“Of course,” she smirked.

And then, the torture began.

“Afternoon, everyone!”

Seventeen Bundesliga clubs gathered in the middle of the spacious studio, prepped and pumped for the so-called ‘BL Media Days’. Or for it to be over, but that didn’t really matter. A DFL official welcomed them in their headquarters. The greetings/bullshit was followed by Darmstadt’s introduction, and of course: “But most importantly, have fun!”

The first photoshoot was standard – they’d be photographed head to waist with hands on their hips, a plain white wall their background.

To make things simpler, the officials would call the impatient personifications in alphabetical order, because of which, Werder Bremen and Wolfsburg decided to treat themselves (and the others, on the officials’ insistence) lunch.

“FC Augsburg!” came the first call, and true to his no-nonsense personality, it only took him a minute or two, even with the touch-ups.

“Bayer 04 Leverkusen!”

The Retortenclub rolled his eyes. “Later, okay” he told Bayern, who gave him a thumb up in reply. As a true PR man, Leverkusen stepped up to the stage with confidence, a charming smile set to melt fangirls and fanboys’ hearts on his face.

“Hello, cutie,” the makeup artist teased, applying a dash of bronzer on Leverkusen’s cheek. He responded accordingly – with a wink and “Hello to you too!”

Then crash! The door to the studio slammed open, causing almost everyone to jump in surprise, and came in Ralph Hasenhüttl, red-faced and panting as he helped his charge up from his face-down fall. “We… apologize for our lateness,” the coach said. Beside him, FC Ingolstadt 04 stood with a broken nose and tearful eyes. A laugh could be heard from his fellow Aufsteiger, but she disguised it as a cough before Hasenhüttl could do anything.

“No problem, Sir!” one of the officials said amicably. After a grateful nod from the manager (and a three-minute chiding to Germany’s youngest club), he left. “Use Darmstadt’s phone to call me when I’m done, okay?”

Darmstadt’s fists clenched - she couldn’t make a bad impression in front of the Bundesligists, but everyone was laughing at her! Not to mention Inge’s annoying ‘okay, Papa! See you later!’

Like she hadn’t had enough of that squirt in the second division…

Desperate to stop the laughter directed at him, the club nicknamed Die Schanzer turned to face his new ‘friends’. “Hi, guys!” he shouted, waving his hands in the air. “I’m FC Ingolstadt! And you?” He jumped to a bench where two clubs, one in green and the other blue, sat. “What’s your name?”

The guy in green stood up, and damn he was huge! Ingolstadt had to stand on his toes just to see his beard! Fortunately, he could see his arms, his legs, and woah he had so much hair… how cool! I wish I had a body like that, the little boy thought, hand almost touching his muscular calf… almost… almost…

“Wolfsburg,” the huge man answered, snatching Ingolstadt’s hand to shake it. “And this is Hoffenheim,” he gestured to the man in blue, who was black-haired, blue-eyed and sulking.

(The introductions, unnecessary as they were, continued, much to the officials’ annoyance – to make it worse, everyone was either too amused or too mesmerized by the pint-sized Bavarian’s “cuteness” to stop him.

Seven minutes and thirty-one seconds later – “THANK GOD!” one of the officials whooped – Ingolstadt had made himself known to every club but Die Werkself, who had just finished posing for the cameras.)

When Leverkusen stepped off the stage with another stranger’s (well, at least she wasn’t a Scheißbock fan) phone number, a red-haired boy – promoted Ingolstadt, Leverkusen read his club crest – approached him, confusion narrowing his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong, Ingolstadt?” he asked, letting his persona do the job.

“I’m confused, Sir,” the boy replied, scratching his head with a pudgy finger. “This thing is for… personifications only, right?”

He’s more stupid than I thought, Leverkusen made a mental groan, but outwardly, he kneeled to the Audi-backed club’s eye level, his hands on his small shoulders. “Yes, it is,” he said, his voice as soft as the gaze he sent the Bavarian, “you may be young, Ingolstadt dear… but you are one of us.”

To Leverkusen’s surprise, Ingolstadt didn’t jump up and down with renewed self-esteem, but gave him a blank stare instead. “’Us’? Who are you?!” the boy shrieked, as if Leverkusen was some kind of intruder. He resisted the urge to kick the newbie in the groin by offering him a hand to shake. “Bayer Leverkusen,” he introduced himself, grinning eye-to-eye, “nice to meet you!”

“You’re Bayer Leverkusen?!” the boy echoed, dumbstruck as he squinted at the cross and lions on his chest. “I thought… I thought you were a player!”

He could hear Gladbach and Köln’s too-loud whispers of ‘The guy looks like Kießling and he doesn't even admit it'.

"Fuck you," Leverkusen muttered, turning on his heel to leave the baby boy. He'd give those two assholes a lesson... but first, he needed a plastic surgery.

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amarynceus · 8 years ago

Text

Political Blitherings, et c.

Preface 0.1. Politics, race issues, anger. Part venting, part thinking. Below the cut.

Questions? Responses? Acknowledge my right to exist and equal treatment, and I’ll debate almost anything. There’s an ask button, use it. Fail to acknowledge that basic point and we are done, full stop.

Preface: NDN = decendant of indigenous peoples of the continents located between Western and Eastern Eurasia, in case you didn’t know.

Second preface; I hope even if you don’t agree with me on very many things, so long as you agree on my basic premiss, that you will read this through if you care about current events. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that you already like one or two of the drawings I’ve made, if you’re still watching me at this point.

I’d just like to note that I might be occasionally strident and political from time to time for the next, well, foreseeable future, as long as we have an ACTUAL. FUCKING. TOOL. OF.THE. KREMLIN. IN. WASHINGTON. I would prefer just to paint sailing ships and stupid pones, but times are what they are and people like me are now under attack from my own fucking government in this climate. I love the Socialism. I hate Fascism, Soviet communism, and their various interbred ancestors and descendants, and hate the idea of them growing stronger here.

Creating art is an essentially political act, and don’t let any two-bit neo-nazi pieces of shit tell you otherwise. What difference it makes is debatable, but what isn’t is that silence is complicity. Do not be silent. Do not let others tell you that your fear, that your oppression, that your experience and your identity do not matter. Do not be gaslighted. There are four lights, and let no one tell you otherwise.

My first President, and the last I felt any respect for, was Carter. The first I could vote for was Clinton, and I couldn’t stand him. The first I could actually vote FOR, rather than against, was Obama, and only the first time around. I’m an NDN. I hate the fucking United States, the agent of physical and cultural genocide, that destroyed so much of my people and my culture and my very social fabric. I hate the flag, I hate the government, I hate every shred of this godsdamn pathetic farce of a Republic that has the balls to call itself a Democracy. I want to see the US burn, fall, fail harder than Rome ever did.

But. I still live here. This is my land. My ancestors’ land, ripped away by the white man’s (and woman’s - the white woman’s complicity in colonial oppression is deep and rarely conveyed) violence and greed. We have been here, and I mean my cultural group, the NDNs of the Columbian Plateau, TEN THOUSAND years at a BARE MINIMUM -- even white anthropologists and archæologists, some of the most racist academic disciplines, acknowledge this. When humans in the middle east were first starting to put one sun-fired brick on top of another, we were figuring out how to balance the recources we had and the needs we had. For thousands of years, my people lived a way that did not degrade the land, and did not require war, or conquest, to maintain that way of life. What kind of mis-steps led to such a thing, I do not know - I have long assumed that some kind of gross overharvesting/overexploitation of the available resources led to the realization that resources must be managed, and human populations controlled, if there was to be any balance between humans and the landscape that gives us life.

So. Where am I going? I don’t know. I’ve had a cider and just now a beer. So I’m just expressing at this point, because I’m starting to feel a tiny bit comfortable about my audience here, small (but growing! thank you!) as it is.

Basically, silence is no longer an option at this point. Those of you still in your early twenties or so (I don’t want to assume, but demographics say almost half of you are under 24), might not really get what an important place we stand in, right now. But let me say this directly right now. Even if you’re well aware of it.

All of our values, and all of the values our founding folks held (regardless of their hypocrisies or defects, etc., etc.) are under attack right now. The very essence of what is a ‘fact’ is under assault right now. Science is under assault now. People who are not white, straight, and devoted to the myth that this is a white, straight nation are under attack right now.

If you’re white, stop criticising the anger and rage of POC right now. If you’re male, stop criticising the anger and rage of women right now. If you’re a Nazi, kindly fuck off and live in the most excruciatingly painful manner possible. If you see a Nazi get punched in the face and you say ‘well, but...’ fucking ditto, I have no time for your temporizing. Say ‘well, but...’ one more time, and as a lifelong pacifist who has never yet dirtied their knuckles on anything more offensive than a sheetrock wall, I will happily break your nose and dislocate your testicles, free of charge.

We need to pull together. I’ll say for one time, and hopefully one time only, I have a hard time with white liberals. I’ve been betrayed so many times by them. But we do need you to come to your senses and stop attacking the rest of us who are now genuinely under threat. Unless you thrust the topic under my nose, I don’t intend to bring it up again (might RB stuff about it tho). But y’all have had the reins for centuries now, sit down, shut up, and listen. And that’s the end of that topic.

We all have our own concerns. I’m not exactly proud, but I have a difficult time in a lot of political debates concerning race, due to the fact that NDNs are consistently shut out. I try my best to rally myself behind other folks’ suffering, but when it’s usually <this group this group us us us us> or <that group that group me me me me> one gets left on the sidelines sometimes, it is true. Trumping another victim’s card with your own weighty suit is bullshit, though. The IDEA of the White Man has fucked us all.

Let me come back to that, because I think it’s important.

THE IDEA OF THE WHITE MAN HAS FUCKED US ALL.

The IDEA of unique importance. The IDEA of a special place in history and destiny. The very IDEA of anyone being inferiour. The IDEA of a mandate over others not of our own people. The IDEA of absolute rule. The IDEA of divine right. The IDEA that being stronger and more violent has anything to do with superiority.

Sadly, all of these are pretty much true of us all, regardless of time or place. Humans are pretty shitty. But a certain concatenation of events conspired to place white European males at the temporary top of the heap of worldwide power intrigue, and they went fucking crazy with it. Crazy in a way that the world has never before seen sort of crazy, setting aside all those cautionary tales of Mu or Atlantea or whatever. Crazy as in this-single-way-to-live-is-the-only-way-or-else-I’ll-kill-you sort of way (which is, sadly, almost universal). Whether it be the worship this dead man on a stick or die, or dig gold or die, or slave-in-the-fields-because-you-happen-to-be-darker-than-me-therefore-you-deserve-to-die-horribly-because-this-guy-who-has-the-building-with-the-gold-but-don’t-die-until-I’ve-extracted-every-last-bit-of-labour-I-can-without-expending-any-capital-or-indeed-meaningful-effort-of-my-own.

Again, do I have structure here? No. I don’t care about structure. I’m fed up with being constrained on discourse. I’m done with letting conventional liberals, white or not, dictate the path and the method by which I expound ideas and express my emotions. I’ve had a Cider and a Beer, and these days that’s about enough to make it slightly difficult to type straight and copy-edit as I go. Make that two Beers as I’m half through with the second. I’m just done with excessive self-restraint in general - though that’s my limit with drinks.

I think that’s my limit on discourse here, though. I streamed all day, and chatted all day, which was fucking awesome (seriously, you know who you are, I appreciate your support and your interest). I’m worn out -- by now some of you know fairly well just why that is, and in time all of you who stick around will. Like so many who differ from the norm, I’m tired of defending the very basics of rational discourse. I’m tired of Nazis. I’m tired of Nazi sympathizers. I’m tired of racists. I’m tired of those who will ally themselves with racists to further their own worldviews. I’m tired of White Liberals who try to balance everything because it all comes out of a fucking Textbook and -- well, I’d disgrace myself totally and forfeit any right whatsoever to rational discourse if I posted the clauses I just deleted. D: Let’s just wrap that up and say I’m tired. Unless you’ve got a serious legacy of oppression and trauma in your own life as well as your family’s -- this is the time to shut up, sit down, support, and spread your ears wide fucking open.

You might be ‘white’ right now and you might have this shitty legacy of oppression, too. It’s important to realize that ‘race’ is such an arbitrary constrict -- a good modern starting point is ‘Whiteness of a Different Colour’ (ISBN-13: 978-0674951914) -- and that many of you that might be considered ‘white’ now weren’t ‘white’ a mere century or less ago. If you’re of Irish, or Scottish, or Italian, or any country with any modicum of Catholicism, or anywhere near Poland at all (for fuck’s sake I want the US to burn but I wish I could apologise for those Polish jokes), I hope you’re nodding right now. ‘Whiteness’ has always been a fluid definition, subject to the convenience of those who are in power. Sometimes you’re in, sometimes you’re out. A lot of people last year were convinced along these lines, alas. Especially white women -- it’s hard to say, but I am deeply disappointed in any gender whose space I drift into regularly --- where’s my fucking third option, thank you very much, please, reality, let LeGuin’s writing instantiate. The amount of white women who voted for a... thing that despised their very gender was, quite frankly, so astonishing, even disgusting, that it was hard to credit.

So at this point I think it’s important to distinguish between two groups: those that explicitly benefit form the current regime, and those who don’t. Establishing the basic premiss that I’m not particularly inclined to either nuance or compromise at this point, I think I can draw the lines thus:

With the Orange one are Nazis (or Neo-Nazis if you want to split hairs, I see zero fucking difference), other forms of White Nationalists, the KKK, Kremlin sympathizers, and a general cadre of the most ignorant and least qualified set of people ever set to take government positions, even factoring in the presidencies of Grant and Hoover. These people deny science, deny facts, deny the right of people like me to exist. I don’t believe in anything but the serious danger of absolute belief. But I do trust and have some shred, some modicum of faith, one might even go so far as to say, in scientific method, rational skepticism, tolerance, and love.

These people that are scrabbling for the levers of power have none of these things. They want unquestioning obedience, slavish devotion, denial of diversity. They want us to believe their lies, their ‘alternative facts’ or whatever the shit was that’s so ridiculous my fore-brain refuses to scrabble for the correct terminology.

But this isn’t the 1920s or the 1930s. Remember that the well-nigh universal lesson from that time regarding Fascism is that people didn’t strike back hard enough, fast enough, strong enough. Don’t succumb to the idea that it’s worth your while to debate people who don’t accept your simple existence and your equal rights as a basic, fundamental point. If they don’t, punch them if you can. Or find a bigger friend to punch them. Kick them in the balls -- most of these Nazis have balls, I know not how -- or hit them with a bat, or a bat with nails in.

Remember.

If.

They.

Do.

Not.

Unconditionally.

Acknowledge.

Your.

Right.

To.

Exist.

As.

Basic.

Premise.

There.

Is.

No.

Intellectual.

Debate.

Nazis and their ilk don’t want people like me, or many of you, to even exist. (I look at every follower’s profile, you delightful people and sometimes perverts [me too, no worries - even some aces get saucy every few dozen moons or so! I love you all, apart from those strange porn blogs, I don’t draw naked anything yet, please go away.]) Even after deflecting myself there, I re-emphasize that:

DEBATE CAN ONLY OCCUR WHEN BOTH PARTIES AGREE TO A CERTAIN SET OF FACTS AND PHILOSOPHICAL PREMISES. Foremost in 2017 being: an acceptance of the scientific method and of the complexities and conclusions of modern science, an acceptance to the basic freedoms of the press and of political discourse as established from our flawed founding fuckers to the current day, and an acceptance of the basic rights of all human beings irrespective of ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation.

Anyone who can’t agree to this basic, fundamental, and fundamentally inoffensive set of premises is not worth your time or energy. If they try and throw sand in your face, avert them. If they put up a mask of civility, state the basics and deflect them. If they assault or insult you, ignore them, or if appropriate, punch them -- at this point, they deserve it. As a life-long pacifist -- they so deserve it.

Keep your thumb outside of your fingers, please. I want you to be able to draw even after you punch Nazis.

Remember:

Anyone who does not acknowledge your right to exist has not established the most fundamental level of Rational Discourse.

I’ll try as best I can to keep this blog to mainly just art, but I refuse and reject all notions that I should keep politics out of my art. The act of intentionally creating a piece of art is an essentially political act, it always has been, and it always shall be.

On that point, I’ll allow one exchange to give you a chance before I block your arse on whatever platform. I DGAF about followers, sales, or bottom lines, tiny though they may be. All I want are people who I can have a rational discourse with.

I wish I could say I’m sorry to be so angry.

I am absolutely not

. I refuse to let my anger dominate my day to day living, but I also refuse to put it aside, and I think you should too. Don’t let go of that anger, but don’t let it eat your heart (it will eviscerate you in a breath if you let it.) Forge it into a sword, into a shield, into a bow and arrows to give cover to your loved ones. This is not a time for complacency, for conciliation for those who would not have us live at all. Recognize that there is a point at which rational debate has come to an end, that there are those who want us dead and are not at all joking with all those oven threats. NAZIS FUCKING EXIST RIGHT NOW. Just as their vile counterparts have existed at so many times throughout history.I could name to you ancestors that were killed, or sent to prison, or locked in mad-houses, or worse, simply because they were NDN and said that we should have rights, that we should be treated like human beings, that we DESERVED to EXIST. I have zero patience for the establishment or the White Man in Washington. I have some patience for the White Woman, even though they have often been a worse oppressor than the Man (seriously -- look at the treatment of ‘Natives’ in ‘America’ and Indians in India in the periods when it was just the by far majority male explorers, trappers, traders, etc, compared to when the women come in -- rapid swings between Tolerance and Accomodation, to Prejudice and Exclusion, all overcome with the Sickening Sweet Smell of Straight-Laced Biblical Morality and okay I can’t go on, if you are still reading I haven’t completely offended you and I would honestly not prefer to do so excessively.) but it’s really hard to trust in straight white women at this point. So many sold us out to a self-confessed ‘p*ssy grabber’ in November. ANYWAY. Anger blah blah arg razzle frazzle argiuhalsdkfgjalkdfgjh lasidfuyao psidgyoiasdygoi asydfgo iasdygpoiasdo et cetera, et cetera, et. cetera. yeah. welcome to 2017. Let’s all go punch Nazis. Or, if we can’t punch Nazis, let’s all support those who do. Because what’s more American than punching a Nazi in his (or her) Godsdamned face.

#blah blah #not art #punch nazis #punch nazis in the face #always and forever

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loud-hands · 5 years ago

Text

A Message Sent to Autism/Asperger's Hate Blog

Definite trigger warning, the website left me actually nauseated. Mentions of abuse and death, hate toward those with autism spectrum disorders, and just. Horrible stuff.

I came across heartlessaspergers/.com (seriously) and the neurotypical/.com and it was rather upsetting. Claims that we have no empathy and destroy families and ruin partners' lives. So. Autism S/peaks × 10. I know I probably won't be listened to but I had to say this. I know I probably won't change anyone's mind, open anyone's eyes, but here's my message:

I want to start by saying this isn't meant as an attack and I'm really, really sorry if it comes across that way. I'm an eighteen-year-old with autism. Asperger's Syndrome has been removed from the DSM-5 but were I diagnosed some years ago, I would have been diagnosed with Asperger's.

I know it may sound biased coming from the type of person your page warns against, but I very much disagree with the assumption that we lack empathy. Some of us have lessened empathy, I see this with my autistic brother and my, admittedly, abusive father I speculate may be on the spectrum, but this is not to say we're unemotional and lack empathy. Some autistic people can be downright bad. Some are good, some are neutral, as is the moral spectrum with all. My brother, for example, tends to lecture or make rather callous jokes to lighten the mood at someone's plight. He dislikes animals but when my pet died, he was awkward with it, I think struggling with his contempt and sympathy. He said, very sincerely, that he was sorry for my loss.

I myself feel overwhelmed with empathy at times, feeling upset when my friend is, and she, also an autistic adult, shares this trait. I've cried to documentaries that show people grieving dead relatives or people suffering, I've cried at fictional books once in a while. Today, one of my neurotypical brothers was upset and I was left distressed when I could only bring him a drink and offer to listen when/if he wanted to talk.

I know this is just my experience, not documented research, but studies have supported that we're not devoid of empathy:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/people-with-autism-can-read-emotions-feel-empathy1/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4048168/ (This one discusses lessened affective empathy in ASD, though it highlights the differences between cognitive and affective empathy.)

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/people-with-autism-can-read-emotions-feel-empathy1/

Many of us show empathy in different ways than our neurotypical peers. I notice that I tend to start spouting what I think is a logical approach and try to give advice instead of offering hugs. I spend the next hour worrying that I seemed unsympathetic or that I was overstepping by offering advice when I wasn't asked for it. We often struggle to recognize emotion by someone's facial expression or tone, which leads to some of us seeming aloof. Even when I can detect it, I never know how to react.

And I won't deny some of us truly ARE unempathetic and/or cruel. But I don't think this is purely genetics - I think this is how the environment shapes and interacts with these traits. I know I keep citing my own experience and I'm sorry for that, but from my own upbringing, I can see how I could have become a very different and much colder person. After about kindergarten my "quirks" stopped being just little kids being little kids. Friendships were difficult, the other kids matured faster than me with some things, and teachers assumed I was deliberately spacey and slow with my work. None of this was helped by a difficult home life (unrelated to my autism). In fifth grade I had a teacher who actually bullied me and ruined my desire to try in school for some time. I was playing imaginary games while the other girls were well past that. I am and have always been a bit of a pushover and I let a group of girls choose what I wore and paint up my face in makeup, all the while calling me ugly and insulting the clothes I wore to school. I thought this was just the way friends were and that they were being kind and helping me. I wound up violent, argumentative, hating everyone for years. It took my home life cooling down and my mother putting me in an online school for me to be able to assess my behavior and what I had become.

I'm by no means perfect, not a saint. I'm struggling with my mental health and the responsibilities of adulthood. My relationships, I feel, are different from that of neurotypical young adults. For a long time I didn't have any friends and though we're often seen as loners (and we truly can be), I was incredibly lonely. I have a friend now, and for my entire life I could only handle one friend at a time, latching on and driving them away. It worked out well this time around as we're both equally clingy. I feel regular labels can't properly define out friendship, transcending friends but not romantically involved. I can't imagine myself having a romantic relationship and the idea of balancing my best friend and a hypothetical girlfriend overwhelms me. I show my appreciation by knitting and drawing for her, and she's like me and recognizes my affection. I don't like hugs or much touch. I don't know if I could have a romantic relationship or sometimes even a platonic friendship with someone who was neurotypical because I'm not sure how our ways of affection would mesh. Many autistic adults can and do manage happy relationships with neurotypicals but I know that I and others like myself might have an unhealthy relationship because the neurotypical overwhelms them and the neurotypical feels unfulfilled.

I love the idea of fostering children one day and I'm majoring in special education, and sometimes I really do worry I might be emotionally negligent, but that I truly feel I can handle, and this is where the overwhelming empathy comes in, to the point that I feel an immense sense of duty to help kids in need and those with special needs and daydream about my teaching plan, baking together and other bonding activities with future foster kids.

I'm sorry for the ramble, but from what I've seen of your page, it seems you mostly hear from neurotypical people. I want to give an autistic voice and try to show that many of us really DO feel empathy, and give experiences of my own. It's often upsetting to see us painted as monsters. I'm sorry for this dark turn but there are so many autistic kids, teenagers, adults that are MURDERED for being a "burden" and such. There are facebook groups where parents feed their kids bleach to try to cure them of autism. I've really cried for these people, especially the children. I feel like I need to be a voice, an advocate, especially for those on the more severe end of the spectrum who often can't or struggle to do it for themselves. Autistics have an increased risk of depression and suicide. I myself am taking a few antidepressants, but I don't think depression is an effect of autism itself. Stigma hurts us. I won't defend autistic abusers, there is no justification for ANY abuse, but we're not all evil. People are born autistic, but autistic people aren't born evil. No one is.

Thank you for reading,

R.B.

- Mod RB

#mod rb #ableism #ableism mention #tw abuse #tw death #trigger warning #autism #aspergers

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fortlauderdalemodel · 6 years ago

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Queen of Soul Aretha Franklin Has Died of Pancreatic Cancer at Age 76

QUEEN OF SOUL ARETHA FRANKLIN IS ‘GRAVELY ILL’: REPORTS

PEOPLE STAFF

Aretha Franklin, the self-taught piano prodigy, vocalist and songwriter who first conquered the charts in the late ’60s and never relinquished her throne, died Thursday morning of advance pancreatic cancer of the neuroendocrine type, her publicist confirms to PEOPLE. She was 76.

“In one of the darkest moments of our lives, we are not able to find the appropriate words to express the pain in our heart. We have lost the matriarch and rock of our family. The love she had for her children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and cousins knew no bounds,” the family said in a statement.

“We have been deeply touched by the incredible outpouring of love and support we have received from close friends, supporters and fans all around the world. Thank you for your compassion and prayers. We have felt your love for Aretha and it brings us comfort to know that her legacy will live on. As we grieve, we ask that you respect our privacy during this difficult time.”

Funeral arrangements will be announced in the coming days.

RELATED: Remembering the Queen of Soul — Aretha Franklin’s Life in Photos

Aretha Franklin

Monica Morgan/Getty

RELATED: Inside Aretha Franklin’s Lifelong Need for ‘Extreme’ Privacy: It’s Been Her ‘Strategy’ for ‘Survival’ Says Biographer

The Queen of Soul had struggled with her health for years. A source told PEOPLE Monday that Franklin had taken a turn for the worse and that her death was “imminent.”

“She has been ill for a long time,” the longtime friend told PEOPLE. “She did not want people to know and she didn’t make it public.”

A musical phenomenon who crossed musical, racial and gender barriers, Franklin began her vocal career as a teenager, singing gospel hymns in her father’s Detroit church. From these humble beginnings she scaled to the very heights of stardom, scoring her first national chart-topper in 1967 with a searing version of “Respect.”

Since then, the artist has notched 77 Hot 100 chart entries, and earned an astounding 18 Grammys out of 44 nominations. In 1987, two decades after her first No. 1, Franklin became the first woman to be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, and was later named the Greatest Singer of All Time by Rolling Stone.

RELATED: Aretha Franklin’s Death Is ‘Imminent’ as Source Confirms ‘She Has Been Ill for a Long Time’

Aretha Franklin performs in August 2017

Cory Clark/NurPhoto via Getty Images

RELATED: Aretha Franklin Dead at 76: Celebrities Pay Tribute to the Queen of Soul

A source close to the singer spoke to the Associated Press on Monday to confirm that Franklin was “seriously ill,” although they did not provide any additional details as to the severity or the cause of the singer’s illness.

Showbiz 411 reporter Roger Friedman was first to report the singer was “gravely ill,” sharing that Franklin’s family were “asking for prayers and privacy.”

“I am so saddened to report that the Queen of Soul and my good friend, Aretha Franklin is gravely ill,” wrote Local 4 Detroit news anchor Evrod Cassimy on Twitter Sunday. “I spoke with her family members this evening. She is asking for your prayers at this time. I’ll have more details as I’m allowed to release.”

RELATED: Remember Aretha Franklin with the Queen of Soul’s Top 10 Greatest Songs

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Aretha Franklin

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In February of 2017, the Queen of Soul told a Detroit TV station that she was retiring from music that year. “I will be recording, but this will be my last year in concert. This is it,” she said, though Franklin admitted she would perform at “some select things.”

Despite her failing health in recent years, Franklin returned to the stage in August for what would be her final public performance at the Mann Center in Philadelphia, despite noticeable changes in her appearance that caused concern about her well-being.

Aretha Franklin in November 2017

Invision/AP/REX/Shutterstock

She also sang at the Elton John AIDS Foundation’s Enduring Vision benefit gala in November of last year. Despite two concerts scheduled for March and April of this year, the singer was forced to cancel the shows.

“Aretha Franklin has been ordered by her doctor to stay off the road and rest completely for at least the next two months,” Franklin’s management said in a statement at the time. She was expected to release her next album, entitled A Brand New Me, in November.

RELATED: Teen Motherhood, Losing Her Dad and Her Quiet Health Battle: Aretha Franklin’s Personal Struggles

Aretha Franklin performing in November 2017

Nicholas Hunt/WireImage

In summer of 2011, Franklin performed live at several concerts and talk shows to promote her album, Aretha: A Woman Falling Out of Love”, looking svelte and healthy.

In April of that year, she sat down for an interview with PEOPLE just months after being hospitalized for an unspecified operation. Though she strongly denied having bariatric surgery, the singer — who had lost 85 lbs. — did not directly address the rumors that she had cancer.

“I feel fabulous, really,” she told PEOPLE. “And I’m so thankful to all of the people who said a little prayer for me. People at the check out line in the market were telling me that they prayed for me. It’s amazing how beautiful people can be.”

Aretha Franklin in 2012

Monica Morgan/WireImage

On Dec. 1, 2010, a vigil was held in Franklin’s hometown of Detroit after it had been announced she was headed to the hospital for unspecified surgery. Only the night before, Franklin was nominated for another Grammy, this time for her duet with Ron Isley, “You’ve Got a Friend.”

By the middle of that month, as news spread from family members that she was suffering from pancreatic cancer, Franklin was recovering at home, and saying she was up and about — and feeling better, too. In January 2011, the Queen went so far as to pronounce the matter resolved.

An electrifying stage presence who was also frightfully shy offstage, Franklin, under doctors’ orders, in November 2010 canceled all tour dates and personal appearances for the next six months — a sudden announcement that both disappointed and worried her fans, who could well see for the past few years she was not in the best of health.

RELATED: ‘Every Day Is a Gift’ and More of Aretha Franklin’s Deepest Quotes

Aretha Franklin at President Obama’s 2009 inauguration

Alex Wong/Getty Images

Awards and R-E-S-P-E-C-T

While her four-octave range, phrasing and breath control have elicited critical raves for decades, Franklin’s records — “Respect,” “Chain of Fools,” “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman,” “I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Loved You),” among the hundreds of others — and her record of accomplishments speak for themselves: the first woman to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, in 1987; the holder of the record for most Grammys for best female R&B vocal performance (11); the most million-selling singles of any female artist (14); 18 competitive Grammy victories; two honorary Grammys; the sole (let alone soul) singer at Barack Obama’s 2009 Presidential inauguration — the accolades, including a 2010 honorary doctorate in music from Yale, are literally too numerous to mention.

In 1968, when Franklin was 26 with the first string of early hits to her credit, TIME magazine featured her on its cover under a banner that read, in all capital letters, “The Sound of Soul.” Describing her voice, the news magazine reported, “She does not seem to be performing so much as bearing witness to a reality so simple and compelling that she could not possibly fake it.”

Courtesy of Time Magazine

Father Knew Best

“Fake” was never in Aretha Franklin’s vocabulary. One of five children, Franklin was born in Memphis, but at the age of 6 moved with her family to a large, tree-shaded house not far from Detroit’s East Side, in the same neighborhood as Diana Ross and Smokey Robinson.

Her mother Barbara left at about that time, then died four years later. Aretha’s father, the Rev. C. L. (for Clarence LaVaughn) Franklin, was the fiery preacher of Detroit’s 4,500-member New Bethel Baptist Church — the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was a family friend — and it was Aretha’s father who steered the shy girl through her first gospel recording when she was 14 and later oversaw her transition into a soul singer.

“She and my dad were very, very, very close,” Aretha’s sister, Erma, told PEOPLE in 1985. “She depended on him and his advice, and when she was living in California, she’d call him three or four times a day.”

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Tragedy struck, however, with Rev. Franklin’s 1979 shooting during a burglary at his home that left him in an irreversible coma. Stunned by the incident, Aretha began an almost weekly pilgrimage from Los Angeles back to Detroit, and in 1982 finally bought the house she occupied for the rest of her life.

During her father’s years of unconsciousness (he died in 1984, as a final result of the shooting), “she spent over a half million dollars on him, $1,500 a week just for nurses,” said Erma. “But she still can’t talk about it, not even with her own family. You can’t even say the word ‘death’ around her. You have to say ‘passed away’ or find some other expression.”

The move from L.A. back to Detroit was followed by a divorce from her second husband, actor Glynn Turman after nearly six years of marriage. Her first marriage, to Ted White, lasted from 1961 until their divorce in 1969. In all, she had four sons: Clarence, Jr., born when Franklin was 14; Edward (“Eddie”), born two years later, Ted White, Jr., born 1964; and Kecalf, born 1970 and whose father is Ken Cunningham.

Aretha Franklin

Rick Diamond/Getty

Eddie Franklin, then 52, was the victim of a physical attack in 2010 at a Detroit gas station that required him to undergo surgery.

Another setback took place in 1983, when during a late-night flight home from Atlanta the small plane Franklin was on “did one of those dipsy-doodles” in midair and shocked the singer into a sudden fear of flying, she told PEOPLE. The all-but-paralyzing aerophobia, which remained a lifelong problem, led to a string of canceled or postponed projects, including a starring role in a stage bio of Mahalia Jackson and the lead in a Broadway musical about Bessie Smith.

And yet, despite her troubles, as Rolling Stone has said, “Aretha Franklin is not only the definitive female soul singer of the ’60s, she’s also one of the most influential and important voices in pop history.”

Stephen Jaffe/Getty

Feuding and Fussing

Protective of her title “Queen of Soul,” Franklin was miffed by Beyoncé for introducing Tina Turner as the “Queen of Soul” at the 2008 Grammys, which led to a minor controversy — and barbs being exchanged — at the time.

In fact, Franklin took tremendous pride in her status as a diva, but could also be baffled by diva behavior in others. While before a concert Franklin would drink hot tea and maintain a temporary silence for the sake of her voice, ”Someone told me that Céline [Dion] will go for a day without talking,” Franklin, in a rare interview, told The New York Times in 2003.

She then said, ”Excuse me? What? You kidding? I might go 20 minutes, maybe 30 minutes. That’s enough. Unbelievable.’”

Daniel Boczarski/Getty

But off-stage, she told PEOPLE previously, it was a different story.

“I’m a diva when it’s time to be a diva,” she said. “When I leave the stage, I am the lady next door.” Watching her 2011 Grammy tribute at home in February with a cup of banana pudding, the legendary singer said she was floored by the performances in her honor.

“I was sitting in front of the TV, waiting for it,” said Franklin. “It was wonderful, and a very special moment. When an industry as big as the recording industry pays tribute to you, on that level, you don’t forget that.”