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vennysbottom · 4 years ago

Text

I don’t need it

Wilhemina Venable x FemReader

Words: 2,8K

warning: eating disorders, angst i guess

A/N: I have no idea what this is but I needed to get out of my head. Please, please don’t read this if you think it could trigger you.

*Also, I read something similar on here but couldn’t find it, so if you know, pls tell me so that I could give them credit.

It wasn't enough. The truth was, it was never enough. No number ever seemed right anymore. Each morning you were afraid to weigh yourself, knowing it determined how your day was going to go. For the past few months, the only thing on your mind was weight loss and how you looked. You couldn't focus on anything else, you found it hard to be your positive self and most importantly, you were losing yourself.

You were losing yourself again.

You were not sure how many times this has already happened, but you knew what was going on. There was no reason to try to prevent it though, you felt like you needed to lose a few pounds anyway and saw no harm in doing it this way. Or more accurately, you chose not to see it.

“Y/N baby, I'm leaving” your girlfriend's voice coming from downstairs brought you back to reality. Not realising how long you've been analysing your body in the bathroom; you ran to the front door.

“Still in your pyjamas?” she said while giving you a half-smile. Wilhemina herself was looking as professional as ever, given that it was just 7 AM. She had her hair up, makeup on, and was wearing one of those purple fits that you loved on her. Each morning she amazed you by how good she looked. You leaned in to give her a goodbye-kiss which she gladly returned.

“Have a good day. Love you” you said while getting a hold of her one free hand. She gave it a light squeeze before saying “I made you coffee. I love you too.” And just like that, she was out of the door and you were alone.

You stood at the doorway for a couple of seconds, deciding what to do today. You had a few online classes that day but they only took up half of the day, leaving the whole afternoon to yourself.

You went into the kitchen to get your coffee, trying to be as quick as possible. You didn't like being there anymore, it made you feel anxious and guilty. Although, for the majority of your relationship with Mina it has been nothing but nice; you loved cooking dinners for her every day to make her relax and talk about what kind of day the both of you had had, you loved having slow Sunday mornings there. But none of that hasn't happened for quite a while now. Avoiding meals equalled constant lying; on the weekend you’d sleep in since your energy levels were constantly low, and most days you’d lie to get out of eating dinner. You would say that you had to study for a test, had an assignment due or simply that you had already eaten by the time Wilhemina got home.

All of these thoughts were flooding your mind from just standing in the room. You quickly grabbed the cup and left to go into your home office.

Your classes began at 8 and by the time noon arrived you were done for the day. You couldn’t focus on anything your lecturers were saying, which wasn’t uncommon, but this time it wasn’t just the fact that you were exhausted that kept you from paying attention. You kept thinking about how your relationship was slowly starting to fail. You and Mina were in love, but the truth is, your lies were undermining the trust between you two. Until your relapse, you had never lied to her and that’s why she knew that she could always count on you. But she started noticing how distant you were getting and how little time you wanted to spend with her; it hurt her, but she decided to just play along and pretend like everything was fine.

You were aware of all of this. You knew you needed to fix this but sadly enough, you didn’t know how to do that. There was no way you’d be willing to eat - the fear was too overwhelming for you. That’s why you decided to do the next best thing - a quick fix.

The first thing you came up with was a visit at work. There was a high risk of catching your girlfriend taking out her frustrations on one of her poor employees, but the only thing on your mind at that moment was making Wilhemina feel loved. You were mad at yourself for neglecting her because you knew that she deserved way better than that.

You got dressed and made your way to Kineros Robotics, stopping along the way at her favourite coffee shop. You had worked at the company a few years prior, so you knew most of the people by name and knew the place perfectly.

“Hey Jenny!” you greeted your former co-worker with a smile once you’ve made your way up to the front desk. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” she said while looking away from her computer. “Oh, I’m looking for a woman and thought she might be here. You may have seen her actually; long red hair, very kind, the same height as me… Does that ring any bells?”

“Was she wearing purple by any chance?” she asked jokingly.

“You know what? It is possible! How’d you know?” you answered and gave her a toothy smile.

“Try her office Y/N/N. But just a warning: she screamed at me today for letting in a delivery-guy, so she’s probably not in the best mood,” she said while pointing you in the direction.

You knew this was your fault; she does get snappier at work when she's worried about something. So, not only are you two miserable but others get screamed at more frequently. Maybe a quick fix wouldn’t be enough this time, but it was the best you could do for now.

You arrived at Mina’s office to find it empty so you hesitantly made your way down to the guys’ office. It didn’t take long for you to hear muffled voices, one of which belonged to the woman you were looking for, and you could tell that she was upset about something. Upon entering the room, you saw her; she had her back towards you and was supporting herself by the cane in her right hand. Just this image alone was enough to make your heart race. Jeff and Mutt were bending down to sniff what seemed like their daily dose of cocaine. There were also two girls sitting on a table near them, probably just random hookers the guys hired for the day.

“No, no, no, that’s not what I said. What I meant was, that you should watch your temper more” Mutt said loudly before turning around to start typing on his keyboard.

You saw Wilhemina tighten her grip on her cane, “Excuse me?” she said in a cold tone, clearly getting ready to argue.

Jeff stood up after attempting to clean the powder from his nose, “Come on babe. You know you could be nicer to the employees”.

“Shut up Jeff,” you said sternly, making all the heads turn in your direction. “You’re paying her to do all the work around here that you are too lazy to do yourselves, not to be nice to people.” You could see the surprise on Wilhemina's face, but it didn't take her long to regain her composure and protectively reach for your hand once you've reached her side.

Jeff smiled at you and said “Y/N! Long-time no see. Have you finally changed your mind?”

You haven’t seen the two idiots for a couple of months, almost making you forget how gross they were. You took a step forward and stated “I wouldn’t touch your slimy dick with a two-feet pole,” which made both of them laugh slightly. “I'm here to put you in your place since you obviously still need to be reminded,” you continued giving them a cocky smirk. You knew they would not budge, but it was a nostalgic way of entertainment.

“Wow, you don’t have to be so rude baby,” he said pretending to be offended, “Seems to me like Ms.Venable has a bad influence on you.”

Oh, it was on. You were ready to shoot another remark but were stopped by your girlfriend’s hand giving you a squeeze and lightly pulling you back.

“I would choose my next words carefully if I were you; you’re on very thin ice,” Mina said while staring at Jeff. She would normally avoid confrontation with them but her possessive side got the best of her in that moment. Softening her expression, she turned to face you, “Would you wait for me in my office? I need to sort some things out.”

You nodded and turned on your heel to leave. Hearing Jeff shout at you “The offer still stands!” made you turn once more and say truthfully “Hope your brain turns into mush soon, asshole.”

Once you were out of the door and far enough that nobody thought you could hear them anymore Mutt started the conversation, “Damn Ms.Venable, are you even feeding her?” which made a look of confusion appear on Wilhemina's face. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked with a hint of offence, trying to find an answer in the face of one of them. Since Jeff was the one who knew you the longest, he decided to explain, “Oh don’t tell me you haven’t noticed anything,” still seeing the puzzled look on his secretary’s face, he went on, “For fuck’s sake, don’t you live together? You must have noticed the weight loss, plus Y/N is never very subtle about this.”

That’s when it clicked and Wilhemina finally understood what Jeff was implying, “She's never subtle? This has happened before?”

She waited impatiently for an answer, hoping that all of this was just a sick joke; the other two exchanged a look of mutual understanding and Mutt finally said: “You should talk to her.”

You paced around the office trying to figure out what to do and how to fix this situation. You knew that Mina was hurt and probably even disappointed; you knew her instinct would be to build her walls up again and you were terrified she wouldn’t let you fully in again. Once you heard the sounds of her cane getting closer, you knew there was no preparing for this.

She entered the room with a somewhat disapproving expression on her face, which she successfully hid when you shot her a warm smile, waiting for her to sit in the chair while you leant on her table. Sitting down, she looked at the cup you were nervously playing with and narrowed her eyes at you. “I thought you might need cheering up today, so I got you your favourite,” you said while placing the coffee on her desk. And you could swear, at that exact moment, you saw love light up her eyes, and the slight smile she offered you gave you butterflies, just like the first time you saw her smile like that. The silence between you that followed made you play with your fingers anxiously but after a while, it was broken by Wilhemina's soft voice, “Well thank you. I appreciate it.”

“But that's not the only reason I stopped by. I've finished all my work for the week…” you traced off preparing yourself to say the latter part, which you'd much rather avoid, “So I thought that I could cook dinner for us tonight because I haven’t done that for a while now. And I wanted to ask you if there was anything you’d like.” At that point your heart was beating so fast you were sure she could hear it.

She could see how uncomfortable you were but wasn’t able to pinpoint the reason for your behaviour; she didn’t know whether it was due to your relationship hitting a rough patch or because Jeff and Mutt might have been right. Either way, she knew she’d find out tonight; playing it cool she kissed you on the cheek and told you that it was completely up to you.

Cooking the food was fine, calming even, but once it was done you realised that you actually had to eat it which caused you to panic. You tried to calm down but your eating disorder made that almost impossible. You sat at the table for what seemed like hours trying to come up with an excuse, eventually deciding to just drink wine and lie if you were to be questioned.

You were disturbed from your state by the door opening and your girlfriend coming into view. She locked eyes with you instantly. You could tell that she was exhausted, that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary after all, but there was more tonight. Wilhemina hasn’t been able to concentrate on anything else than you for the rest of the afternoon. She analysed the situation, her potential steps and their outcomes for the whole ride home. What scared her the most was the fact that in both scenarios, she was running a risk of losing you.

You were both tense, expecting the other one to start a fight and unable to relax, so you only made small talk. You sat at the table with your glass of wine, playing with the food on your plate while watching Mina observe you closely. Then the tension got too much and she barked out, “Aren't you going to eat?” in a tone so cold, it reminded you of the times you worked for her. She held eye contact with you, almost daring you to lie to her. Almost daring you to start a fight that would break her heart. You quickly answered, saying that you ate right before she came so you were pretty full. Keeping your eyes on her face, you saw her expression change - she went from being irritated to being seemingly sad in a matter of seconds.

“Do you still love me?”

Once the question left her lips, there was no taking it back and it physically hurt you that she had to ask. It hurt to know that Wilhemina felt so abandoned by you, she actually thought you were going to leave her; and judging by the look in her eyes, she was ready for you to say “no”. Wasting no time, you answered, “Of course. Of course, I still love you, Mina.” hoping to sound genuine enough for her to believe you. You watched her closely, waiting for her reaction, but to your surprise, her feelings were shoved back down just as quickly as they surfaced.

She straightened her posture before stating, “Well, in that case, we need to talk.” You felt yourself freeze, knowing exactly what was about to go down.

“Have you been eating?” she asked, not letting you drift your eyes away from hers. You knew she’d catch on eventually and call you out, but you had hoped you had a little more time. With a confused expression on your face, you said, “What do you mean?”.

Wrong answer. Wilhemina was tired of your bullshit and you trying to hide it from her. Her face seemingly hardened as she explained, “I haven’t seen you have a meal in weeks. You’re always making excuses, saying you’re too busy to sit down with me. The two idiots even implied this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

You knew there was no point in pretending anymore, so not caring about the consequences anymore, you snapped, “Oh, so it took Jeff and Mutt telling you everything for you to notice? Good to know.” You got up to leave but the sudden sound of Mina’s cane hitting the floor made you stop in your tracks. “Sit your ass down,” she ordered through gritted teeth. Seeing how mad she was getting and how her knuckles whitened, you thought it was better to obey. Although Wilhemina liked establishing dominance, she very rarely raised her voice at you. But this was different, she was pissed that you refused to take care of yourself and she knew she had to be strict.

“Y/N, eat. Now,” she demanded in a stern tone. You were sitting down, fork in one hand and anxiously pulling the skin on your leg with the other. After a few minutes of silence, she reached for your hand under the table and with a pleading look in her eyes, she said softly, “Baby… please, try. For me.”

You couldn’t stand seeing her like this, so you hesitantly started to eat. You hated it, and the feeling of food in your stomach made you sick. Wilhemina rubbed slow circles on your hand in an attempt to calm you down. Despite her effort, tears started to fall down your cheeks about halfway through the meal, but you still managed to finish everything.

Seeing the plate finally empty caused you to sob uncontrollably. Mina approached you quickly and put her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. In between sobs, you whispered, “I hate you so much right now.” In response, she said, “Shhh, I know. I know,” while stroking your hair.

“You did good, little one.”

#sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #wilhemina venable #ms venable #sarah paulson imagine

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notsolong-pause · 4 years ago

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ship requests

“Hey 👋 . Can I get a male HP ship (from both eras if possible) pls . Thank u so much ! . So I m a Gryffindor (with a bit of Slytherin ) . In my free time , I would love to read fantasy or sci-fic novels or facts maybe , listen to music , research about anything I want to , do something my parents denied me off maybe . If my friends are available , I'll also go downstairs with them and play . I m not as such interested in sport but I love to play cricket and badminton . My hobbies are dancing , horseriding , reading , researching , cyber and swordfighting (I haven't done it yet tho). I love the trope of fake relationship or enemies to lovers

Next is my personality . Well , I can be shy if I m not comfortable with the person , but if I am then I am very talkative . I don't trust ppl at the beginning until they prove themselves . I m very reliable and trustworthy but I tend to hide my emotions . I like my privacy, I don't even share that with my bestie sometimes . I come off as a rebel and I can get annoyed very easily . I love to organise a room . Everyone comes to me for advice . I also have a very good sense of humour which comes out in front of ppl I'm comfortable (they say I never used to fail to surprise them with my hidden qualities) . I m also quite modest . I m a risk-taker and I always stand up to my friends , I also have their back sometimes . I can also be a bully to my enemies or my friend's enemies but only if they start it first . Idk what is it , but ppl tell me I carry a powerful aura and many boys get attracted to me . Also , the popular ones used to attract to me a lot because I could be seen as a quiet nerdy girl . I come off as very unique at first meeting . I m practical with my decisions but as said , I hide my emotions or else the emotions would have led me. I m also a human lie detector , or that's what my family tells me . The thing that stands out in me isy dressing style . I am very curious. I m also very much mysterious . I m loyal to a fault . Now my flaws are that sometimes I don't believe my friends at all and it hurts them since they ask me to be honest and I tell them the truth . I can be blunt and cold without realising it but I don't mean to . I am an extrovert so keeping me from doing something can make me insecure . I m sensitive to criticism . I can be super suspicious, like a looott . I hate when ppl try to control me, even my parents so I end up going against them or I follow their instructions half-heartedly . I can be very very stubborn . I also get many intuitions but I ignore them . I hate when ppl are unreliable , everyone's lazy but atleast they should do their work after some rest . I also hate arrogant boastful PPL . I hate when someone disrespects me and I immediately cut them off from my life . I hate lame excuses given by the ppl whom I expect something to do and they didn't. I am very patient but once they cross their lines , they wish they hadn't . I guess this is too much ? (Lol sorry but excited ) Thank u so much for ur time dear 💗”

a/n: Hi! Thank you for so many details!! It’s lovely. You also asked for TMR ship, so I’ve decided to do a HP form one era and one for TMR. Hopefully, you are okay with that:)

p.s.: sorry for being a Draco slaughter. i’m also doing all the other requests, thank you for them!! they are going to be trade in a day or two. sending love <3

Harry Potter:

I ship you with Fred Weasley

(so badly, you’re a perfect match)

First of all... being stubborn and taking risks is something that you probable have in common, which is going to create a perfect enemies to lovers dynamic. Maybe academic/prancing rivalry?

You constantly mocking each other, but not meaning any harm or anything, even though others might think that you hate one another

Him always helping you to break the rules if needed, but still making sure that everything is alright, and everyone is safe. And you would keep an eye on him back, supporting him when he doesn’t know what to do

He would be surprised when you started to open up, and crack jokes, but would love them so badly. And he definitely is very grateful whenever (and if) you chose to tell him something private, and wouldn’t tell anyone else even if he was tortured

You would always give amazing ideas for the shop products. And he would be like: “Where do you know that from?” “Don’t know, just thought it was interesting and decided to investigate”

You were walking in the dull lights of a corridor from the late detention in the Snape’s dungeons. You got this one for arguing with a certain Weasley. This was entirely his fault, though, but he didn’t get caught, and you could still see the stupid smirk on his stupid face when you were assigned to come down here after classes. The Slytherin do was just nearby, and you heard a couple of voices around the corner. You were hopping these were some of your friends from Slytherin, but as you listen closely you herald none other than Malfoy. “These Weaslebeeys are ignorant trash just like their father. Who’s would willingly study what muggles’ life’s are like? That’s just dumb”you didn’t know whether he was just showing off in front of his friends or if he was being serious, but you were furious at the moment.

“Malfoy!” - you energetically approached the group.

“Another gryffindor”, - he smirked. “Why don’t you spend an evening at your dorm or some other lame place?”

“Cut it. Take it back” - you face was almost stone cold. Eyes glimmering dangerously in the flickering light.

“Are you defending the Weaslebees?” - he grimaced, being so proud of himself for no reason.

“It’s not their name, and they don’t need any defense. You’re being an arrogant prick towards my friends, and I’m not going to tolerate that.” - you were stiff, your fists clenched in order to hold back the anger. How dared he speak in such diminishing manner about people 100 times better than him!

“What are you going to about it?” He replied cheekily, stepping forward.

“Well... I don’t know, how about TheLocomotor Wibbly!” - you were gripping tightly onto your wand, and Draco suddenly fell to the floor. His legs turned to jelly.

“You little...” one of his friends pointed your wand towards you, opening his mouth to jinx you back. Suddenly there was a loud bang, everything was covered with the thick smoke, and you were pulled to the corner. You instinctively pointed a wand on the person in front of you, still unable to see anything.

“Easy, lady” you recognized the voice. “Fred? What are doing here?” you were genuinely surprised, and started wondering how much has he heard. “Came to rescue you from the Snape’s claws” he smirked. “Why?” you didn’t understand a thing. “No fun being brilliant if you can’t see that and get jealous” - he cocked his eyebrows. You huffed back. “Well, thank you, I suppose.” “Oh good, I thought I’d never hear that”. You surprised a smile. “Let’s move already”.

“By the way”, he stopped you, “did I hear you calling me a friend?” You nudged his shoulder. “Don’t think too much of it, Weasley”.

The maze runner:

I ship you with Gally

He’s the one to understand you not opening up fully and immediately and keeping things to yourself for 110%. He’s mysterious himself, and he can give you every time in the world (sorry, i’m love him sm)

Again... the enemies to lovers dynamic, ESPECIALLY considering the whole thing with him killing Chuck (still hurts, though).

He can be very protective from time to time, so you can have “Because I care for you!!” arguments when you’re being reckless and decide to risk in order to save him.

He's honestly the sassy king of the show. Taking your sense of humour in account, I belive that he would really appreciate that you have it and can back him up. So you would exchange jokes back and forth

He's also absolutely giving you every freedom in the world not even attempting to control you or tell you what to do, he would only give out advices. And as far as he realises you're sensitive to crticizm, he starts to control himself in order not to hurt you.

"Please, never do that again". You and Gally were walking around the Last City, back to the shelter.

"Do what?" You asked, raising your head to the boy slightly ahead of you.

"You know what I'm talikng about". He turned his head to you, and stopped in the shaddow of the narrow street between the houses. His gaze was pretty serious, and both of you were extremely tired after yet another mission in attempt to undermine the existing regime.

"I don't think I do". You looked up at him with the confusion in your eyes.

"What you did back there was very risky, and you could have not make it. Don't risk like that ever again".

"But the cranks would've gotten you then". You protested. In your opinion, what you did was the only option.

"I appreciate the concern, but I could I handle it". He was starting to get stubborn, while you were getting angry.

"That's not true. One of them was hanging on your throat. That's not something people cal 'I handle it'". You threw your arms in the air, gesturing.

"I'm not letting them take me instead of you!" Gally was almost shouting at this point.

"Well, I'm not letting them take you either!"

"Great!"

You both went silent and were walking angrily towards your shelter, turning, sneaking, and hiding.

"Gally". You called in a few minutes. "It's just that I really care about you".

"I know". He told you, looking back again. "Just promise me, you're going to be careful".

"You know I really can't promise, but at least I'll try".

#ship requests #reader #reader insert #x reader #y/n #the maze runner #tmr #gally #gally x reader #the death cure #hp #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #fread weasley #weasley twins #fred and goerge weasley #golden era #hp x reader #submission

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thefudge · 5 years ago

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Just out of curiosity, did you read JK's essay? I don't support everything in it but many parts resonated with me. Not to mention the horrific online abuse hurled at her, especially the countless, countless "choke on my dick" phrases thrown at her which are so violently misogynistic, it left me with a deep seated feeling of not only discomfort but fear as well. Idk I guess I just felt safe sending this because your blog seems more open to discussion from the other side instead of instant cancel.

i’m glad you think so about this blog and i hope that remains the case.

i didn’t have a chance to read JK’s essay until today (my previous ask about her was written before that) but here are some very, very imperfect thoughts on it:

the essay confirmed my previous take that she has inoculated herself against certain outside arguments but it’s also made me wonder about JK’s understanding of gender and sex. She is very attached to “natal women” and calling all people who menstruate “women” because of “common experiences”, despite the fact that her beloved de Beauvoir, whom she quotes in the essay extensively, acknowledged that “woman” is a social construct. JK herself at one point complains about having to comply with the rules of femininity while growing up and how it made her want to stop being female, so what is the truth? She argues that young girls shouldn’t be thinking about transitioning just because they are made to hate their femaleness but that’s!!! exactly what!!! pushing the term “woman” as sacrosanct does to girls!!! most of what JK felt in her childhood was the kind of misogyny which connects women strictly to their uterus. it made being male a better alternative precisely because of the gate-keeping of penis/vagina. a young girl who acted like a tomboy, for instance, would be criticized for trying to deny her sex, because deep down her biology still made her a “woman”. both sex and gender cannot be divorced from socio-cultural realities, because we act with our bodies and embody what we act. so, if we expand what it means to be a “man” and a “woman”, we liberate, not confine. JK wants young people to feel free to be whoever they want to be, but they must be called “women” when discussing menstruation or else (i won’t even go into the obvious addition that many cis and trans women exist who cannot or no longer menstruate).

Now, she does bring up some fair points about cancel culture and freedom of expression that I will level with, but the problem is that the nuancing she is trying to achieve also serves as weirdly specific dog-whistling. So let me address that:

(warning: spoilers for the Cormoran Strike series)

Right off the bat, we have this explanation added in her intro:

“On one level, my interest in this issue has been professional, because I’m writing a crime series, set in the present day, and my fictional female detective is of an age to be interested in, and affected by, these issues herself (...)”

and already, i’m asking questions. how is Robin Ellacott, one of the protagonists of the Strike series, “affected" by these issues, personally? she’s “of an age” to...what? be gender critical? there’s not a lot of that in the novels (unless you count Robin being tall and knowing how to drive well being framed as anti-girly...). How does crime relate to it? How is she connected to this really?

the real connection JK wants us to see because she’ll reveal it later in the essay is that Robin was r*ped in college. she’s a sexual assault survivor, which must make her critically engaged with the fate of trans women because....because underneath JK’s empty statement about her female detective....is the correlation that men “disguised” as trans women can perpetrate the same sort of horrific abuse. she keeps making this correlation throughout the essay.

Here she talks about various people who’ve reached out to her:

They’re worried about the dangers to young people, gay people and about the erosion of women’s and girl’s rights. Above all, they’re worried about a climate of fear that serves nobody – least of all trans youth – well.

And again here:

“So I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe. When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.”

This one is my favorite because it’s so twisted (here she’s listing her charity work):

“The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.”

“safeguarding”

hmmmm

What JK wants to spell out with these “common sense” arguments is that she fears that trans women are predatory, and the most convincing argument she can bring, ultimately, is that she herself has been the victim of sexual abuse and therefore, that potential fear never goes away. That’s a very dangerous leap to make. The climate of “fear” she mentions is also connected to cancel culture, of course. She fears women won’t be able to express their opinions online without receiving various amounts of vitriol. But you see how she has merged all three issues together? So that if you agree with one, you must agree with the others. Because yes, cancel culture often goes too far, and yes it is a real issue, but to say that the trans community shutting her down foments the same atmosphere of “fear” as boogie trans women hurting children in bathrooms and her being abused by her cis husband… that’s a veeery slippery slope. Instead of sticking to “freedom of speech” and whatnot, she keeps correlating these issues that should not be correlated (some of them being false issues, as well).

Is there too much opprobrium around discussions of trans identity? Yes. Are there worthy discussions to be had about young women, homophobia and gender dysphoria? Absolutely. Can being trans become a fashionable trend/identity among kids, like the bygone goth and emo labels? Sure, but these discussions shouldn’t be had at the expense of trans people who have to constantly prove that they “mean” it. Because by stringing up all these issues together, JK is saying “the kids don’t know any better, and the adults are faking it”. Yes, cancel culture is impeding dialogue, yes, we shouldn’t shy away from discussing young teens’ identity problems, but if you pile up all of these things in a giant “trans women are the problem and they might be predatory too” milkshake, you won’t get anywhere.

I want to come back to this quote:

The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.

Beyond the (in my opinion) not very tasteful enumeration of things she’s done to help, JK’s mention of “education” there is veeery interesting. On the one hand, she probably feels that schools will try to censor “free speech”, but on the other hand, I bet she’s also concerned schools will not do enough censoring, so that impressionable kids become pressured into adopting a trans identity. You see how it flips on a dime? What does she ultimately want children to learn about this? Does she want them to be kept in the dark completely? Does she want them to be allowed to critique or invalidate trans identities without being censored? On this second point, things get complicated. Schools and institutions will naturally censor free speech. Kids are there to learn how to express that free speech; they will be told “hey, don’t say that to your colleague, it’s not very kind” or “you need to structure your argument appropriately instead of just saying “I don’t like it””. Is there room for criticism in how schools operate that benevolent censorship? Obviously. Hell, Foucault & co. have been talking about this for decades. So what does this argument about education ultimately mean? What are we protecting the kids from? Imo, it goes back to that covert argument about sexual violence.

Since I’m a teacher too, I’ll talk about my own experience: I brought some texts to my undergrad class about the trans experience with the goal of 1) building empathy, because literature is the grand unifier of experience and 2) showing different literary perspectives which i also included within literary theory. ultimately, the trans experience is about being human. we were learning about being human, nothing more, nothing less. if younger kids end up treating it as a fad it means that a) they need more, not less education, b) parents and schools should work together to make them understand that being trans is not the same as being “emo”, for instance. this partially resembles the trend of white kids adopting black culture just because it’s cool, but not actually engaging with the black experience. who do you sanction for this? black people? because in this analogy, the trans community should be responsible for children not benefiting from education and parental support.

oh, I know what JK is saying. the trans community is responsible for shutting down conversations about this. it’s part of the general climate of tiptoeing around trans issues. yes, here I can agree with her that Twitter discourse either helps build sympathy or loathing for the “cancelled” person instead of seriously grappling with what that person has done. it’s the nature of Twitter and I hate it, but to go from that to saying women and young girls are in danger from other “fake” women really undermines her own argument. There are normal pitfalls as we try to incrementally do some good in this world. Cancel culture and the deplatforming and ruining of lives of certain individuals will not promote the cause and is certainly to be frowned upon, but JK will be absolutely fine. there are hashtags right now like “istandwithJK” and there’s a slew of people who support her. the misogyny she faces is deplorable, but we shouldn’t conflate valid criticism with trollish vulgarities. I don’t want to minimize the dangers of online culture; I know people have lost jobs and livelihood, but that is a discussion to be had under different parameters, admitting the responsibility of both parties (for example, maya forstater realizing that maybe saying some hurtful things about public figures and proudly talking about the “delusion” of transwomen will come back to bite her in the ass) and the fact that under capitalism, your job is always at the whim of appearances and simulacrums. essentially, you are the job. this is a state of things that deserves a larger discussion not on the back of the trans community. should we live in a world where you are allowed to say anything, free of consequences? some of us do, because we can say whatever we want in our head, in our room, in our house (other ppl aren’t so lucky), but the trouble starts in the public sphere. even if we wanted to build a public sphere where everything goes, we’d be at each other’s throats in five seconds anyway because we’re human. the most we can do is educate and correct where we can. “facts don’t care about your feelings” discourse is often not informed by facts at all and forgets the vital importance of feelings.

anyway, that’s my incomplete take. still lots to think about and debate. ultimately, i think any fair points JK brought up were tainted by other bad-faith arguments and i wish she’d use this time to self-reflect because this isn’t a topic that should be breezed past in 3k words. nor should young trans ppl be called “adorable” (facepalm). i myself have many questions and constantly grapple with all of this, but since she’s a writer (and for better or worse, i still like her books), she is in a perfect position to investigate the matter with kindness and stop giving ultimatums. and i hope this post fosters discussion and doesn’t shut anyone down.

( forgot to mention that other nifty subplot in the Strike series about these really unlikable kids who are transabled and experience BID ( Body integrity dysphoria) and want to have a disability. Strike is super-offended by them since he’s genuinely disabled and we as readers are meant to think they’re real pieces of shit, and while transableism is suuuuper complicated and my thoughts on it vary wildly, i do think those BID kids also stand in for other folks in her mind..again, food for thought.)

#jk rowling #j.k. rowling #tw transphobia #replies #tw r*pe

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mollymarymarie · 5 years ago

Text

Come On Back To Me

I know, I know. This isn’t Wolfstar (which is, like 99% of what my life is made of), but my PSM (@sparrowof-thedawn) commissioned me to write some smut about Sam Kiszka (bass player from Greta Van Fleet), and I WENT OFF on it. I have a soft spot for boys in bands.

Obviously the smut means NSFW, so use caution, friends. Also, I go through a bit of set-up, so give it a minute.

“I don’t have time to think about it, that’s all there is to it,” you say with the smile that you were accustomed to plastering on, a smile that was becoming increasingly more common. A smile that covered the tired ache constantly hiding behind your lips.

“No,” your best friend, Casey replies with that sarcastic drip to her voice that assures you know she is about to side-step all your bullshit. “You’re not willing to make the time.”

You take a long sip of the Americano in your hand, rolling your eyes dramatically from across the table at Starbucks. The smile on your lips became a little more genuine. It had been weeks since the two of you had been able to spend any time together at all, both of you doing medical residencies in completely different cities. It was a stark and unwelcome contrast from your school days, when you spent nearly every waking hour together.

“Easy for you to say, you live with yours. He’s literally at arm’s length every time you turn around,” you say with a scoff in your tone. You would never undermine the struggle that Casey and her husband had gone through to be together, but she still couldn’t argue that point. She could sit there and tell you that you would find someone eventually, that you would settle down, that you would find happiness, but she had found hers relatively early. They had been together for so long, Casey didn’t even know what dating meant right now.

“I know,” she says, an irritated growl forming in the back of her throat. She knows she’s losing this argument, so she turns to sentiment to win. “You just can’t see what you have. You’re too focused on what you think other people think you lack.”

“Oh?” you laugh bitterly, throwing up a dark, high-arching brow in disbelief. Again, an easy point for her to make in defense. She wasn’t the one whose last relationship ended in flames because her boyfriend of two years decided the distance was too much and their history wasn’t enough. Granted, it had been over a year since they broke up, but the point remained.

“Yes,” she insists with an exaggerating hiss. “First of all, let’s ignore looks, shall we?”

“We’d have to,” you mutter into your paper cup.

“I heard that, shut the fuck up,” she quips immediately with a snap of her fingers, in some dangerous border between playful and murderous. “There is so much magic in you, fam. You graduated with a doctorate, so you’re hella smart. You give your best friend pep talks when she goes through her third nervous breakdown of the month. You continue to love with your whole life despite all the shit that people have given you,” she clears her throat and you hear the name of your ex not-so-subtly buried in the cough that followed. You roll your eyes again.

“Which doesn’t matter because all people see is this,” you say, gesturing down your torso with both hands. Across the table, Casey’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes narrow.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Everybody wants a skinny super model. And I am not.”

“Neither the fuck am I!” she shouts, gathering the attention of damn near everyone in the coffee shop with you. For an introvert, she tends to be rather vocal. “If you’re an eclectic taste, then so am I. Still a lot of people that have the tattoo stigma, you know.” Off-handedly, she brushes over the bursts of color inked across her shoulders.

“But that’s a choice you made. I didn’t make the choice to be my size.”

“Same, though?” she said, her features softening a bit. “Literally the only reason I’m sort of thin is because of the celiac with my total shit diet,” she says with a smirk. “But it also gives me really bad skin and this stupid belly pooch that I’ll never get rid of and super thin hair.”

“Which you can –”she interrupts your argument.

“You, on the other hand,” she leans in, placing her face into her hands, propped up on the tabletop. “Look at you. Curls for miles, dark and silky and defined. Hair that a guy could lose a hand in and would be grateful to.” With one hand, you subconsciously twirl your hair around it in a whirl before tossing it over your shoulder. “You skin is nearly flawless, dotted with freckles like the damn stars in the sky but twice as beautiful.” You could feel a blush creeping up from the base of your throat. Your platonic soulmate had always had a way with words. There’s a reason people mistake you for a couple, more often than not.

She continues. “Your lips are so much fuller than mine and when you put on that deep red color, Jesus H. Christ, if I was into girls.”

“You are into girls.”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

“You literally could’ve just said ‘if I was single’.” An expression crosses over her face, all pursed lips and puffed cheeks, like being single was so unrealistic of an option (she’s sickeningly in love with her spouse, it’s disgusting) that she hadn’t even considered that. In her defense, she had figured out the bisexual thing pretty late in the game, long after she was married.

“Shut up,” she laughs, high and bright. “The point is you are young and beautiful and you have time.” You open your mouth to argue, but she speaks first. “You will have time, after this residency. Literally the only time I see James right now is for dinner and sex.”

“Separately, I hope,” you laugh against the lip of your coffee cup.

“You’d be surprised and disgusted by how often they overlap,” she says, raising her left brow. It’s like a bizarre innuendo trademark. If she’s making a sex joke, that eyebrow goes up and it’s so sharply pointed that it just makes her expression look so much more scandalous.

“I don’t even want that. I’m not even interested in the sex. Just the company.”

“Bless your little grace soul. The company is the best part, anyway,” she says with a shrug, taking the last sip of her chai latte. “Speaking of company, you still talking to Sammy?”

You roll your eyes again, wondering if you could do permanent damage with how often you’ve used those muscles in the last ten minutes. “No, I don’t talk to Sam anymore.”

“Wait, wait, hold on. Since, uh, when?” she asks with a twirl of her finger.

“Do you know who Sam is now?” you say with a sarcastic huff. “He’s not Sammy Boy from undergrad anymore. He’s Sam Fucking Kiszka and he’s been on SNL and he’s touring with Greta and he’s probably with a different girl every night and those girls don’t look like me.”

“I swear to God, I’ll murder you in your sleep tonight if you keep this up.”

“You know what I mean.” Irritation seeps into your voice. You love your PSM, but she doesn’t get this. If anything, she was probably Sam’s type when you were all hanging out together in your little college town. Sure, there was that one night, but you were drunk, and Sam was drunk, and nothing happened. It certainly seemed that way the next morning, anyway, considering it was something that neither of you ever brought up again.

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

“I’m gonna give you my love!” Sam was yelling-slash-singing Led Zeppelin at the top of his lungs again and if it wasn’t so damn adorable, it would be annoying. Hell, if it was anyone else, it would be annoying, but it’s Sam and, unfortunately for you, you’re rather smitten with Sam.

“I’m taking this away from you,” Casey whispers with a syrupy smile as she slipped the square bottle out from Sam’s fingers. He barely even noticed.

“Oh, let him sing. It’s our last night together,” you say with a sigh, trying not to focus too much on that part. Tomorrow, you’d be moving to a new town, a bigger town, to start med school and Sam and his brothers (including Danny) would be setting out on their first tour.

It was a pretty fucking big deal, actually. GVF had been getting a lot of attention lately, so this first tour was sort of a long-play audition for some big-shot record executive and, if they did well, they were golden. And you knew they would do well because that’s what they always do.

“Hang on, stop right there,” Sam calls out, buried somewhere in a laugh, “You hate my singing.” With that look on his face that often showed up in your dreams, Sam saunters over to you, one of his dark eyebrows raised to its full capacity, his ever-lengthening brown hair, streaked with highlights given to him by the sun, falling down over the sharp edges of his cheeks.

“I don’t hate it,” you say under your breath as you take another sip from the tumbler in your hand. It was more like a gulp. This close, Sammy tends to make you nervous.

“You really are going to miss me, aren’t you?” From where you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, Sam encircles you with his arms, holding himself just far enough away that you could still smell the whiskey on his breath, the floral notes from the product in his hair.

“I’ll hardly notice you’re missing,” you lie, blatantly.

“That’s not what Casey tells me,” he says under a knowing smirk and you shoot a glare at your best friend, who gives you a brazen wink in return, lip curled up and everything, just before she vanishes into the living room to find her significant other.

“Casey is a damn liar,” you reply with a laugh and try to ignore what looks like adoration in Sammy’s expression at the sound of happiness in your voice. You read too far into him.

“Who else is going to give you shit for getting the only A on a test that everyone else failed? And don’t say Casey because she wasn’t in that class or she would’ve had an A, too.” As he speaks, his arms curl in until he’s nearly pressed against you. God, you wish he would let go.

“What about you?” you strike back, poking him in the chest and wishing you could spread your fingers out over his sharply defined collarbones pushing back from beneath his shirt. “Who will be there to make fun of you for dancing to Whitney Houston when no one is watching?”

He wrinkles his nose at you, and you melt a little inside. “Whitney is an icon, alright?”

“So I’ll miss you. A little.” You roll your eyes. You do that a lot in Sam’s direction. “Not like you. You won’t even remember my name a month from now.” The playful spark in Sam’s eyes goes out like a doused flame. In fact, he physically startles a little, pushing back from you.

“Won’t even remember your name?” he repeats with what sounds like hurt in his voice, but you know better than that. You feel like you’re always giving Sam feelings that he doesn’t have for you, hearing intonations in his voice that aren’t there, reading into little things he does that probably don’t have meaning to him. “Is that what you really think of me?”

You backtrack a little, concerned with this change in mood. “You’ll be too busy to miss me, Sam. A different city every night, a different party every night, a different girl.” That last part, you add under your breath, certain he’s too drunk to catch it, anyway.

“You realize that outside of the band, you and Casey and James are my best friends, right? We’ve been friends for the last four years. But you think I won’t even remember your name.” He pushes away from you, storming around the kitchen as he drags his hands through his thick, wavy hair, and you’re left to stand in stunned silence. Sam doesn’t get angry. Not like this.

“It was a joke, Sammy,” you say, even though it certainly hadn’t been a joke when you said it. It was actually the worst of your fears and it had been consuming you for weeks.

“No, I think you mean that,” Sam says, his voice escalating a bit as he circles the island of your kitchen, hands still buried in his hand, coming back to where you’re still standing.

“Alright, maybe a little bit, but I mean,” a blush bubbles up to encompass your face, knowing what you’re about to say to this boy you’ve had a crush on for four years, “Look at you.”

Sam stops in front of you. Stares at you. You squirm a bit under it. “I’m too busy looking at you,” he retorts, his eyes traveling across the features of your face. You see them settling over a patch of freckles underneath your eye, following them over the bridge of your nose to the mirrored opposite side. His eyelashes are so long, so dark that when he lowers his head to look at you through them, it darkens his gaze, hollowing his warm brown eyes until his pupils look blown wide. This is the way you always imagined him looking at you, but never thought possible.

“Not much to see,” you reply, a defense mechanism. With a snarl, his lip twitches up over his canines, they glint in the low light of the kitchen, the moonlight coming in from outside.

“How are you so goddamn stubborn?” he huffs out, slipping his hand along your neck, underneath the curtain of your dark curls, his thumb settling over your windpipe. He leans forward, unsettling your lips with his own, just slightly. The bittersweet of the whiskey is still on his lips and, you find out, on his tongue, as he deepens the kiss and pulls you close.

But he’s right. You’re stubborn. You’re so stubborn, he’s too drunk, and you’re both leaving. Doing this now doesn’t mean a fucking thing. You pull away, cursing yourself. Cursing him for waiting this long. Cursing the universe for making him who he is and you who you are.

“Wow, you’ve had way too much to drink, Sammy,” you laugh off, playfully pushing him toward the living room, where you knew, by now, Casey and James had crashed on the couch. “I think you’d better sleep it off. I’ll see you in the morning.” Quickly, you escape to your bedroom, where you fully convince yourself that it could’ve been anyone. He would’ve kissed anyone.

You don’t cry, you don’t often give yourself that luxury, but you do let yourself take a mental catalogue of this taste in your mouth. Warm, sharp, aching. And so, so bitter.

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

The coffee date and the dinner and the shopping were over far too soon. Work started again the next morning, Casey was back in a town that was too fucking far away, and you were left in your one-bedroom apartment that felt too small and too big all at the same time.

Until your phone vibrated on the bedside table. In the dark, it lit up the whole room. Your cat scurried away from it in a panic from the unexpected noise it brought to the silence. For a moment, you considered just leaving it until morning. It most likely wasn’t work – this wasn’t your on-call weekend anyway. It could’ve been Casey, but she’d gotten home several hours before (which you knew because you always forced her to text when she made it).

Whoever it was could wait. For now, you just wanted to be alone. No, that wasn’t quite right. You wanted to be alone with someone, but there was nobody to be alone with. It was just you and you cat, Mickie, like it was every night, like it had been every night for almost a year.

Despite yourself, you glanced over. It was a Snap. That alone was enough to pique your interest. Casey hardly ever sent an unsolicited Snap (she only kept it because of you, and she only replied to keep up the streak), and there weren’t a lot of people who would send you a Snap at this hour (it was almost two in the morning) on a Sunday night.

Curiosity got the better of you. You unlock your phone and pull down the notifications bar. The Snap is from Sammy. Your thumb hovers over the notification for an embarrassingly long time. By then, it had been weeks since you last talked to Sam.

Against your better judgement, you open the Snap. Immediately, a soft smile rushes over your face, a blush trailing closely behind it. It’s Sam – a selfie of Sam on stage with the neck of his bass in one hand, the phone in the other, and a screaming crowd behind him.

The tagline reads, “Missing you more than you think.”

Goddammit. God fucking dammit. What the shit was he trying to do? You had already convinced yourself to forget about the kiss, to forget about your feelings, to forget about Sammy. He’d made it difficult – he kept in near constant contact with you since undergrad. It was going on five years later, and you still talked to him daily. Sometimes, it was only a text, sometimes it was only a picture, rarely there was a phone call (which were always very awkward because you’re good with words on a screen, but in person, not so much).

Every now and then, only a handful of times over the last five years, you and Sam got to see each other in person. Sometimes it was at a GVF show, sometimes it was with a group of friends. Once, he showed up at your apartment with no warning. That one was rough, but ultimately, nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. It had always never happened.

Finally, you had decided. It was enough. Nothing would ever happen with Sam. Maybe it would make you a bad friend for cutting off contact with him completely, but it was so fucking hard to talk to him every single day and not imagine what things could’ve been like if you hadn’t pushed him away that night. If he hadn’t left, if you hadn’t left. If you started something sooner.

The texts from Sam slowed to a stop, eventually. Until now. It was so frustrating, because you knew, absolutely, without a doubt, even if he remembered the kiss, it was just a kiss. No meaning, no feelings. Just a drunken kiss between two friends. That’s what it was to him.

You consider not replying. You consider removing him from your Snapchat. You even went so far as to consider blocking him. But you couldn’t do that. As hard as it was, you could never stop being in love with Sam. Oh, fuck. That’s what this is. You’re in love with him.

With a deep breath, you hold your phone out, the front-facing camera on, and you flick on the lamp next to your bed. In the low, yellow lamplight, you place your curls just right, tilt your head just right, open your mouth just enough, and snap. No filters, no fillers. Just you.

In the caption, you write: “Sorry for the radio silence. I miss you, too.” Send.

Even though his picture was from stage, you knew the show had long been over. You had an internal clock for what time of night he was usually on stage (most often so you would know when to expect a text or a call), and you faithfully followed the cities in the tour. Well, you used to. The tour he was on now was mostly a mystery ever since you’d cut him out of your life.

It’s mere seconds before you get a Snap back. This one is in real time. No stage, no lights, no fans. Just Sammy. His chocolate brown eyes look up, right into the lens of the camera, leaving you to draw in a sharp, unsteady breath. His hair is longer now, still kissed with sunlight, tossed in front of both broad shoulders. He’s wearing that same denim shirt from the night you kissed five years ago, but the top four buttons are open, showcasing the strong, sharp cords of muscle that run along his throat and meet in the center, just between his collarbones.

It reads: “God, it’s good to see your face.”

Fuck. This Snap was calculated. He sent this with purpose. He had to know what this would incite. Sure, that kiss hadn’t ended to anyone’s satisfaction five years ago, but he had to know, right? He had to know that you didn’t want to stop him that night, right?

Fuck it. Two could play at his game. With your heart beating in your throat, you crane your neck down into your pillow, arranging your curls to look artfully splayed around your temples, and you turn your head away from the camera, the collar of the T-shirt that you had fallen asleep in stretched out to give him a good view of the nape of your neck.

“Yours is still as cute as ever.”

This was a huge risk. In all the time that you’d known Sammy, you had never once admitted to anything. Never admitted that he was cute, never admitted to that kiss, never admitted to your crush. And you just had, accompanied by a slightly uninhibited photo.

His reply is immediate. The photo of him is hardly different, his eyes are a little wider, his brows are raised a little higher, his mouth is hanging slightly ajar. But it’s not the photo that catches your attention. It’s the message attached to it.

“I’m in town. Are you home?”

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. You should have followed their touring schedule more closely, you would’ve been more prepared for this. Fuck. Your mind races through a thousand different scenarios. Is he reading into these Snaps the same way you are? Does he realize what a 2AM visit to a girl at her apartment alone implies? Sammy was always oblivious, but not that oblivious.

You Snap back a blank picture, a black screen of the inside of your palm. You’re losing your nerve a bit, but you still have the guts to reply, making every implication crystal clear.

“Home alone. Want to come over?”

Initially, your realization that you were gray-asexual was kind of a strange awakening, but it made absolute sense to you, once it was explained fully. And it fit. You don’t often experience a need for physical intimacy, not the way most people do. It comes and goes (sometimes at random), and you can usually take care of that rare need yourself and then get on with your life.

Except when it came to Sam. He was always the exception. Random men could express interest in you, in your body, and you remined neutral. There wasn’t that spark with them, with strangers. But that spark grew into a wildfire with Sammy. The more you knew about him, the more you fell in love with him, and the more you wanted from him. With him.

Your phone lights up the room again. You expected another Snap, but it’s a call. From Sammy. You answer without hesitating, anxious to hear what his voice sounds like, whether there’s an ache hiding in his throat, whether he sounds like he wants you like you want him.

“Hi, Sammy,” you say into the receiver. He breaths out.

“Hi,” he replies, all breath. “I’m three minutes away. I was going to wait until I got there, but I felt like I’d forget everything I wanted to say when I got there.”

“Everything you wanted to say?” you repeat carefully, hoping the things that he wanted to say aligned with the things you wanted to hear.

“I don’t know what I did, but I know I must’ve done something to make you stop talking to me. It’s a typical male cliché, I know, but I want you to tell me. I want to fix it.” There’s a whine in his voice that you’ve never heard before and, while you want to make it go away, you also really like the sound that it makes coming up from his throat.

“You didn’t do anything, Sammy,” you sigh into the phone, propping your head up in your head, your elbow buried deep in the pillow. “It was me. I had to stop.”

“If it was because of that kiss, I …” he trails off, as if unsure if he’s supposed to apologize for that night. “No, fuck that, I’m not sorry for that. I will say I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but I –” You try to interject, unsuccessfully.

“It wasn’t that, I just –”

“I won’t apologize for thinking about that kiss every night for the last 5 years.” You go quiet, listening to Sammy breathe raggedly on the other end. “But I need to know.” He pauses for such a long time that you would’ve thought the call disconnected, if not for the static in the silence and the breaths that filled the dead air. “Did I go too far that night?”

After barely a pause, you answer. “No.” But you can’t convince yourself to say more.

“Then why did you push me away?” That whine resurfaces in his voice and you want to say anything to make it go away, because right now, it sounds a lot like hurt.

“Because I didn’t think I could have you.” A deep breath passes through your lips as you close your eyes. This isn’t really the conversation you wanted to have with him just now.

“Was it because I was leaving? Because we were both leaving,” he tries to explain the frailty in that argument, and he was right. It hadn’t just been him that was leaving you back then.

“Yes, that, but …” Your voice trails off, not wanting to finish that thought. This is the part where everything gets awkward, because these aren’t things you ever wanted to admit to Sammy. You didn’t want to tell him that he was way out of your league, or that he deserved someone better than you, or that you weren’t sure you could always give him what he needed. Because, yes, Sam was your exception, and you wanted him in ways that you wanted nobody else, but it might not always be that way. Sammy deserved someone who wanted to give him everything, always, all of the time. No strings, no exceptions, no restrictions.

“But what?” he insists gently, and you realize you’re going to have to spell it out for him.

“Sammy,” you say, your voice quivering. “I’m not pretty enough for you.” An angry breath comes from Sammy’s end just before the line goes dead. You hold the phone out. Call ended.

An impatient knock at your front door sends panic into your chest and you try to ease your shaking hands, but it’s unsuccessful. As you make your way to the front door, you try to smooth out the curls of your hair, you tug at your T-shirt to cover more of your legs, even though you have a pair of shorts on underneath. Sammy hasn’t ever seen you like this and it’s terrifying.

The moment you unlock the door, Sam doesn’t hesitate. His hands are against your face and he’s pulling you against him, and you let him. God, you let him. His lips eagerly find their way to yours and his tongue follows quickly after, exploring and tasting and moaning.

Jesus, the sounds from his throat are indecent. Obscene. The sounds your mouths make together are explicit. As he crosses the threshold to your apartment, he kicks the door closed behind him and pulls you back with him, letting you press him against the door. At first, you stop yourself from putting all of your weight against him, you ease back, but he’s ten steps ahead of you, and he’s already considered everything that might hold you back.

His fingers bury themselves underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding up around your ribcage and he tightens his grip. Your feet unsteady underneath you and you fall into him. He doesn’t make a sound other than the satisfied hum escaping through your joined lips.

“God, your skin is so fucking soft,” he breaths into your mouth just before he violently pulls the shirt over your head, only to let his lips travel down the expanse of your neck. You tilt your head to let him at whatever skin he wants to put his mouth on.

It turns out, Sammy is keen to put his mouth on every possible inch of your skin. Without letting his mouth part from yours, he walks you back toward your bedroom, and the two of you trip on everything in the path there. With every stumble, Sammy laughs against your lips, both of you working on unfastening the buttons of his denim shirt. Eventually, he sheds it on your bedroom floor, and you let your hands explore the uncharted areas of his bare chest.

His eyes stay locked onto yours as he coaxes you onto the bed, where he kneels with one of your legs in between his. As he leans down to slip his tongue into your mouth again, you feel him pressed hard to your thigh, and he curves his hips up to get more friction.

When his lips move down, kissing along the edges of your black bra, he slips his hands underneath you, unclasping the hooks of that bra. As he starts to pull it away, you hold it to your chest, a bright pink blush blooming in your cheeks. His expression softens as he places his hand over yours, leaning down to place a delicate kiss to your nose.

“I don’t get it,” he says with a soft laugh. His hands, with yours inside it, move up, until he has them pinned above your head. “How do you not see what I see?”

“What do you see?” you ask, a hushed tone that doesn’t sound like your voice floats out.

A smile crosses Sammy’s lips as he pulls away the fabric concealing you, letting his eyes flutter down your bare chest. At the sight of your uncovered skin, he darts his tongue out to wet his lips before pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, his pupils dark and wide. His fingers follow the path that his eyes forge for them and you arch into his touch at your breast.

His eyes glance up to meet yours again. “I see skin that deserves to be kissed until it trembles underneath my lips. Skin that forms a beautiful shape with hills and valleys and stories and songs. Skin that holds the soul of the woman I have been in love with for longer than she would ever believe because she is so stubborn,” he smiles, peppering soft, tender kisses to the skin he so poetically described. “Christ, is she stubborn,” he laughs.

“No more than you,” you pout playfully as he works to remove the rest of your clothes and you’re much less reluctant to let him. When you are laid bare, he sheds his own clothes and you marvel at the sight of him, sun-kissed and naked and absolutely fucking magnificent.

“I meant what I said,” he croons, his voice dropping deep as he circles around to the foot of your bed, his eyes lit with a new fire. “That thing about trembling, you know.” As he climbs onto the bed, he pushes your legs apart, wider and wider, kissing up your inner thigh.

“Sammy,” you caution. In your last relationship, this had never been very successful for you. You were afraid that trend would continue, and Sammy would get frustrated over it.

“Please,” he breathed out, warm and wet against your skin, and just his breath against you made you shiver in anticipation. You nod in agreement, and he spreads you open even further. Almost timidly, he pushes the very tip of his tongue into the open space between your legs, soft and slow and careful, dragging the full breadth and width of his tongue behind.

“Oh,” you breath out indecently, a rattled breath from your lungs, as Sammy’s tongue reached the crux of his ascent. Just like he promised, you tremble underneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, gripping your calf and you can feel him arching his hips into the mattress for a little extra friction. “God, make that sound for me again.” With his tongue widened, he drags it along the entire width of you, dipping inside, curling and uncurling within, fucking you with his tongue. He moves out, circling your entire entrance with his tongue, dripping and scorching, before lazily running over your crux, slowly, slowly, slowly.

You make the sound for him again. And again. And again. Those sounds get louder as his tongue increases in speed, feverishly, furiously lapping at your skin, back and forth, up and down, making tight, wet patterns with his tongue until you’re ready to come apart.

“Fuck,” he mumbles again, into your skin, sending the vibrations of his speech into your very core, and he pushes his tongue in with them, deep down until you can feel his lips pressed to yours. He purses his lips there, kissing you, his tongue still driving inside, and when he moans, it’s like an electric shock to your body.

“Don’t stop,” you call out, your voice feeling thin as your body finds the edge. Agonizingly slowly, he pulls his tongue up again, to the same throbbing, swollen skin, and he sucks at it, swirling his tongue within his lips. As you bury your first into his dark, wavy hair, he lays into a rhythm, daring to press two wet fingers into the depths of you. He pushes in and pulls out, matching the pace of his fingers to the rhythm of his tongue, fucking you hard and fast until your vision goes white, and every muscle tenses, and you call out Sammy’s name into the dark, waves of pleasure coursing through you until you’re throbbing around his fingers.

“Oh my God,” he moans, his breath still hot and sticky against you before he moves up, kissing every inch of skin in his path. “You come so fucking well. You look so good right now.”

When he gets to your mouth, you turn his head, pulling his earlobe into your teeth. “Fuck me, Sammy,” you whisper into his ear and every part of him goes limp against you, save one.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck, yes,” he mutters and moans, and you can feel him hard between your legs. He reaches down, swirling the head of his cock at your entrance for only a moment before pressing in, gently at first until his hips are flush to yours. His hips swell and break viciously, pressing into you with a zealous need over and over, his fingers kneading at the skin at your hip that you used to hate, but you can no longer hate it, for the way that Sammy caresses it.

He whispers into your ear, all the things you ever wanted to hear him say. You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted you for so long. God, I love you. I love you. I love you. And it’s been five years, but it feels like five days, and you’ve never felt this good about anything in your life.

When Sammy comes, his dark brown eyes roll back with his head, his neck craned so tight that you can finger that cord of muscle that meets in the center of his collarbone. The moan pulling up from his throat is like the thrum of a bass string, deep and harmonious and reverberating, and it echoes in your chest until you feel filled up by it, too.

When he comes down, he drags his hand through his hair, hair that is longer than it’s ever been, and it looks so much darker under moonlight. His fingers pull through the tangled mess of his hair and he lets them trail down his chest, down his waist, along his hips. Those fingers find your skin again as he pulls out with an indelicate, satiated moan, and he wraps you up in his arms, kissing the back of your neck. You feel sleep pulling, but you fight vehemently.

His words continue, the words that he had been whispering in your ear when he’d been buried within you, and you try so hard to listen, but your eyelids are so heavy now.

His speech turns to song, singing sweetly and softly, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear until you’re sure you could fall asleep at any moment. “You’re the one I want. You’re the one I need. You’re the one I had. So come on back to me.”

You dream about holding his hand and staying a while.

#greta van fleet #sam kiskza #smut #fluff #a little angsty #fic #request #Come On Back To Me

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shinidamachu · 6 years ago

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So I saw an anti-inukag person saying that inuyasha treats kagome like trash & kagome deserves someone who treats her right, like Kouga. Do you think that Inuyasha is like that towards Kagome?

Oh, right! The discourse. The discourse about Inukag. The discourse-made-specially-to-undermine-Inukag. Inukag’s discourse.

Not gonna lie: I only write what I believe in, so where I stand on this matter can be subtly seen through all of my writing (Window - Part II specially).

Now, I know this topic has been brilliantly covered before and that I’m not good at the analyses like my pal @dyaz-stories, but since you came into my inbox, I owe you my honest and detailed OPINION, so grab your ramen and my hand.

WARNING: this is gonna be long (I’m very passionate about it and I use my social security law class to daydream, so…)

Let me start by saying I don’ hate any of these four characters.

“But Sid…”, you say “I only mentioned three characters.” Yeah, I’m not pretending Kikyo isn’t the elephant in the room here. We will have to talk about her.

SO… Do I think InuYasha treated Kagome like trash? Unquestionably.

He was rude. Selfish. A complete ass (HELLO, HE TRIED TO KILL HER WHEN THEY FIRST MET)… But then again, so was Koga.

Let’s not forget he kidnapped Kagome, treated her like his property (which was pointed out by InuYasha himself, by the way) and used to hurt humans without a single care.

Point being: at first, they equally sucked on the whole “treating Kagome right” thing. Agreed? Spectacular. So if we can forgive Koga for the things he did when he first met Kagome, why wouldn’t we do the same for InuYasha?

Kagome — God bless her wonderful soul — surely forgave them both, eventually. However, she took none of their bullshit and always stood up for herself. Homegirl constantly called them out on their behavior towards her (and towards others, because that’s the kind of person she is) and they slowly became decent people because of it.

Koga’s relationship with Kagome is easier to understand: I think she was the very first person to ever tell him “no” and that’s when she went from “Shard-Detector-Who-I-Will-Take-As-My-Wife-Because-It’s-Convenient (Bonus Points For Being Hot)” to “Intriguing-Fierce-Human-I-Am-Actually-Interested-In (Bonus Points For Still Being Hot)” in his eyes.

Then she became a challenge: still not romantically interested in him despite of all his advances. But he is confident and stubborn and he keeps trying. He also enjoys making InuYasha mad, so why not? It’s all fun and games.

Then he notices the way Kagome — a human, a priestess — treats him, a demon, and his demon comrades, that he actually falls in love with her. Not because it’s new, convenient or challenging but because she is Kagome and he genuinelly cares for her now — enough to change his ways and become a better person.

Her relationship with InuYasha, on the other hand, is beyond complicated, but what we are not going to do here is belittle his character development to the point of saying that he still treats Kagome like trash after they become friends, because he doesn’t, at least not intentionally.

There in lies the issue, tho, because it doesn’t matter what he intends, it matters how Kagome feels.

What gives us the impression that InuYasha treats Kagome poorly is his annoying — though understandable — tendency of leaving her to go see Kikyo and as much as we understand how massive his survivor guilt is, I don’t think Kagome completely does.

That, for me, differentiates the two pairings. Koga met Kagome when, as far as we know, he was doing just fine. He kidnapped and imprisioned her because he wanted to find the fragments and achieve more power. He killed (directly or not) loads of innocent humans because he is a wolf demon who belongs to a tribe of wolf demons and that’s how they lived: treating humans like shit because… well, the’re only humans.

When InuYasha met Kagome, he was in his darkest place. Since Izayoi died, he never had a tribe to belong to. Both humans and demons despised him alike. Sealed for 50 years, he woke up still thinking he had been betrayed by the only person who had showed him any sort of kindness since his mother. And Kagome looked just. Like. Her.

I’m not saying he was entitled to hate Kagome’s guts because of his sad backstory — specially because Kagome did nothing to deserve it, on the contrary — I’m saying he had a valid reason behind it, while Koga apparently didn’t.

BUT THAT’S OKAY, because as the series go, they both grow out of the people they used to be and start to respect Kagome.

Going back to Inukag: they do their best to make their relationship work over misunderstandings and jealousy.

Misunderstandings because everytime InuYasha goes to Kikyo and she is alright, he feels so relieved. It’s something he needs to do to ease the guilt he is constantly feeling. Being around Kagome only makes it worse. To me he is like “everything that happened with Kikyo was my fault and yet here I am helpless falling for another woman, letting her care for me and caring for her as well, letting her bring friends into my life, letting her make me happy… while Kikyo is out there, alone and unable to find peace.”

For a inexperient 15-Years-Old Kagome, of course this is gonna sound like he was still in love with Kikyo. But that’s not the only thing that breaks her heart:

It’s all the mixed signals: aside from actually kissing, they are constantly acting like a real couple and hitting it off… until the first shinidamachu appears. Then he goes to Kikyo. At first, Kagome gets mad, which she directs towards him, but I believe deep down she is mad at herself because she knew it would happen. Then she gets confused, because “What about that time he almost kissed me? How about that time we hugged? How about how jealous of me he gets? Is it all in my head, after all? Am I just a friend? A jewel detector? A replacement?”

It’s all the lying: whe he follows Kikyo, sometimes without warning Kagome at all, she feels lied to. Because Kagome had been nothing but honest with him from day one, she expects the same courtesy of him, and rightfuly so. But InuYasha ignores that.

He doesn’t understand why Kagome gets mad when she is the one to say “don’t restrain yourself, go to Kikyo” in the first place. He doesn’t tell her when he leaves because he knows Kagome will get upset and they will fight over — in his point of view — nothing. To him, there are no harm in his actions. He is just trying to make the best out of an unsatisfactory situation (and failing so damn hard).

Kagome has always been a comprehensive person — specially when it comes to him. Had he explained to her how he felt, she would have understood. All they needed was a real talk and this whole thing would be much easier on both of them. The problem is: he doesn’t know how to communicate, specially when it involves feelings and relationships. He is a flawed character. As is Kagome. As is Kikyo. As is Koga.

It’s also all the fear: when InuYasha leaves her to Kikyo, all Kagome sees is the man she loves running to the woman who was decided to hate her from the beginning, who deliberately hurted and tried to kill her, who made InuYasha promise to go to hell with her!

The last one is pretty serious to me, I don’t know why the series dismissed it like it isn’t a big deal BECAUSE IT IS! Personaly (because it wasn’t addressed in the story) I think she tells him to go because she thinks it will make him happy, but every time he leaves, Kagome is like: what if he doesn’t come back this time? What if she drags him to hell with her? He already said he would.”

Although it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want it. Let’s face it: he only said it out of guilt. If he really loved Kikyo and wanted to defeat Naraku to go to hell with her, there were no point on coming back to Kagome and his friends. It would be more pratical just to stay with Kikyo: a powerful miko who knows their enemy better than anyone. InuYasha comes back to Kagome after every encounter with Kikyo because if it comes to him having to give up his life to make it up to her, he would rather spend whatever time he still had with Kagome, who is oblivious about that because, of course, the whole topic was dropped and never spoken again.

I wrote all this so I can say: KAGOME’S FEELINGS TOWARDS THIS MATTER ARE COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED. It’s not just teenage drama. She gets to be sad, she gets to be angry, she gets to be scared, she gets to be confused, she gets to be human.

Jealousy: the way I see it, jealousy can originate from two different feelings: insecurity and possessiveness.

Koga fits in the last category. Not because he still sees Kagome as his property, but because he is sure that they belong together and she just needs time to see the obvious.

Kikyo also fits in the last category and OH MY GOD, WHY NOBODY EVER TALKS ABOUT HOW JEALOUS SHE GETS? It’s always Kagome being the irrational, imature, jealous girl but… Kikyo hurted and tried to kill Kagome? Even though she has only being friendly and understanding and helpful? Kikyo got mad over Kagome being the one to soothe InuYasha’s heart? As if she would rather him to still be miserable unless it was her doing the rescue? Sure, she was in a dark place too. Had been just resurected, filled with hate and found out InuYasha was out and about with her reincarnation. That’s gotta be tough and it’s okay to take a time to adjust to this new reality. The problem is: time passes by and she still treats Kagome badly, even though she is the main reason for their troubled relationship. It takes Kagome saving her life twice for Kikyo to finally warm up and begin to trust her (and I gotta say, if the situation was reversed, I don’t think Kikyo would have done her the same favor).

InuYasha and Kagome fall in the first category.

His whole problem with Koga is because the wolf demon has no strings attached. He is free to act on his feelings for Kagome and expressing them out loud while InuYasha feels like he owes his life to Kikyo, therefore, he is not allowed to pursue a relationship with Kagome and even if he could, it is way harder for him to just spell it out. So InuYasha finds himself watching as Koga unceasingly offers her everything he can’t, thinking that someday she may just get tired of waiting for him and take it.

Kagome’s insecurety is even more obvious. She is the reincarnation of the woman InuYasha once loved, a woman everybody admired and praised. She is constantly mistaken or compared to Kikyo when all she wants to do is be herself, which is hard when you are always reminded that “Kikyo is prettier, Kikyo is smarter, Kikyo is more powerful, Kikyo is better at archery. Kikyo was InuYasha’s first love.” How is she ever gonna be able to compete?

What differs her from the other three characters is that Kagome never let’s jealousy gets the best of her. It’s an ugly emotion and she doesn’t want to feel it. When she catches herself wishing Kikyo was gone she is always disgusted with herself and shakes the thoughts away.

But jealousy makes her blind, it would be hilarious if it wasn’t tragic. Because her #1 complain about InuKik is how they “got in their little world” when they are together but like… sis… you know who actually does that? I’ll give you one hit, just the one:

OH, THAT’S RIGHT!

IT’S THAT 90′S COUPLE

AND WHAT IS THIS?

OH, YEAH, IT’S JUST INUYASHA TREATING KAGOME LIKE TRASH.

And yes, Kagome. You and InuYasha don’t go to your own little world at all.

You don’t have intimate moments at all.

I could literally spend the rest of my life adding gifs. Instead, I’ll say this: she is so jealous, thinking InuYasha and Kikyo have this magical conection that she doesn’t see the one she has with him is much stronger and tender.

All of the time InuYasha spends with Kikyo when she returns from the dead he is either checking on her or talking about how to defeat Naraku.

They only kissed twice: in the first one, she was just trying to take him to hell with her. In the second one, she was dying, it was a goodbye kiss. Both kisses had no romantic connotation whatsoever and Kagome was there when they happened.

Aside from that, when InuYasha is alone with Kikyo, they never act like a couple. Always a few steps apart, they don’t kiss, they don’t hug, they don’t touch. They talk. And it’s not even about their relationship per se.

That’s why InuYasha tends to think Kagome overreacts when he sneaks out and gets mad when she and Koga get all touchy (even if the touching is more from Koga’s side): because Kagome and Koga act more like a couple than InuYasha and Kikyo. And Kagome doesn’t believe InuYasha when he says nothing happened between them two, even though it’s true. It is a hot mess.

However, as much as Kagome and Koga look like a couple, it is nothing compared to how married InuYasha and Kagome act all the damn time. Everybody they met thought they were an item or saw they were in love as soon as they met them. It is undeniable and they suck at hiding: always touching and bickering and protecting each other. The gifs speak for themselves.

Also, I want to point out that our personal stories impact the way we interpret things. Believe me, I sided with Kagome instantly. InuYasha broke my heart too and he received a fair share of curses from me. We take it personally, we put ourselves on her shoes because her situation is way more relatable than his. We want to protect her from all the pain and we forget he is in pain too. We want to see him apologize and make a big romantic gesture and kiss her (and so does Kagome) because it’s what we are used to see on romantic movies. But they are not living on the 1942 Paris, they are in feudal era Japan basically in the middle of a war and it’s not really fair to expect InuYasha, who was shown little to no love, to live up to that fantasy so flawlessly.

That being said: I do believe Koga and Kagome would make a nice couple. He would worship the hell out of her, had she given him the chance. But they would only be actually happy in a world where A) InuYasha didn’t exist or B) Kagome and InuYasha had never met. Because it was never a choice between InuYasha and Koga, it was never a competition. It has always been InuYasha and Kagome wouldn’t settle for no one else. It’s that simple.

As for Inukik, I think it would be way harder to work out. Not just because of the whole “trusting issue” thing or the fact that she asked him to become a human without actually asking how he felt about it, but because… what the series showed us wasn’t a love story, it was something that could be the start of one. They found in each other what they always wanted: acceptance for him, a chance of being ordinary for her. It wasn’t each other they craved, it was what each represented to the other.

If they got passed that stage and started to develop a relationship because they were in love rather then because it was easy and safe, which I believe it could have happened with time, there were still be a little problem: they are no equals. For me, InuYasha put her on a pedestal and if she realized it, she made no move to get down. He goes with basically everything she says without question. He is way more silent and quiet around her. I don’t feel like he is being himself. I think it’s imperial to sort all of this out for them to have a chance to be happy together.

With Inukag, sure, InuYasha worships her too. But he also challenges her. It’s different and dangerous and she never gets bored of it. They are equals. He is so comfortable around her and she makes sure of that. They are a team. Not perfect, but dynamic, harmonized and complemented. They make each other happy just by being around. They are soulmates.

I respect Kagome’s choice, a choice she would do over and over again. I love her as a character and I want her to be happy. InuYasha makes her happy and after fighting so hard to be with him, what she deserves is to be with the love of her life for as long as she lives. The guy she walked on acid and gave up her family and toilet paper (!!!) for. Knowing my girl, she would never do that for someone who treats her like trash. She did it because she loves him and she knows this love is reciprocated.

InuYasha didn’t spend 558 chapters saving her life, protecting her, caring for her, sharing with her secrets he didn’t share with anyone, crying over her corpse when he thought she had died, freaking out whenever she got hurt or sick, locking her in other era to keep her safe even if it meant never seeing her again, spending so much time with her family, being suportive when she took her admission exams, defying the laws of the universe or magic or whatever to get her back when the jewel took her, going to the well every three days for three years waiting for her to come back, for y’all to say he treats her like trash.

SO TO SUMMARIZE: the only male characters who always treated her right, start to finish were the Hojos. If the way she was treated is the real issue, why don’t ship her with one of them? Unless… that’s not what this is about at all, anon, and the anti-Inukag person you saw just wanted to make their ship look good by diminishing Inukag. In that case, this person is sad and dumb.

YOU CAN SHIP WHATEVER YOU WANT, AS LONG AS IT’S NOT PEDOPHILIA OR INCEST! NO ONE IS STOPPING YOU! But if you feel the need to twist the story just to justify your choice of couple… maybe that ship is not that good, after all, since you prefer to spend your free time inventing nonsense about the couple you suposely hate than creating content for your own ship.

#Thank you for the ask nonny #Sorry I took so long #I forgot about this #Just for you guys to have an idea: I got this ask when I made that post about InuYasha being unable to say the wrong name in bed #Remember that jam?#Anyway #Long time ago #I'm glad this got so long cause I know no one will read it #I don't want drama

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thewellzine · 5 years ago

Text

High Fidelity, Racial Ambiguity, and the Myth of Universality in Film and Television

By Amber Delgado

I rarely binge watch television shows, I try my hardest to avoid it. I go to the movie theater pretty regularly—the ease of entering a specific viewing space to consume a story where I know I’ll receive a beginning, middle, and end typically within a two- and half-hour time span (to include trailers) is efficient for my busy millennial lifestyle. With the advancement of streaming services within the past decade, television series are getting better, more “diverse,” more abundant, and simultaneously longer in episode length and shorter in number of episodes within a series. I avoid binge watching for two reasons, the first being due to the capitalist society I’ve been brought up in; it makes me feel like a lazy, worthless blob of a human being to have sat or laid still for hours on end looking at a screen. How dare I spend that much time being unproductive? The second is that these shows, the good ones at least, are so damn tempting to binge they practically require it. The next episode button counting down in the right-hand corner basically taunting you as the music of the quick credits plays in the background. A black screen with white text pops up and you’re stuck with that immediacy to decide: should I continue being a worthless blob or finally go to the gym? Because I can at times have an addictive personality, I always go in for the kill when I occasionally find a show that I enjoy.

I hadn’t heard much about the new Hulu adaptation of High Fidelity starring Zoe Kravitz until about a week ago, through Instagram. I believe someone I follow shared in their Instagram story a promotional photo that Zoe Kravitz took for the show. Due to my years long crush on Zoe, I looked further into what exactly this show was about. I had never heard or seen the original film High Fidelity, adapted from the novel by Nick Hornby. So I was interested to check it out, and on Saturday night after returning from the gym and starting some laundry, I decided to attempt to watch only a couple of episodes.

In the opening scene of the first episode Zoe Kravit’s’ character Rob, is breaking the fourth wall in tears about the breakup with her boyfriend Mac. It really draws you in. (I personally haven’t seen much Zoe Kravitz has acted in. I’m aware of her most recent role in Big Little Lies, but was never too interested in giving that a watch; take that with a grain of salt because again, I’m not watching much television generally compared to the average person). The acting in this scene, and also how stunning Kravitz is, instantly pulls you into the series. Rob replaces the main character played by John Cusack in the original film adaptation. While I was watching the show, I found myself Googling more about both the novel and the film, and scanning reviews for more context regarding the show.

Little to no surprise, I read multiple headlines claiming how groundbreaking it is to have Zoe Kravitz replacing a white male lead. What was surprising for me however, is how in the ten episodes, the character Rob—played by Kravitz, a Black woman—rarely acknowledges her identity and rarely has dialogue with other characters in the show. I enjoyed High Fidelity for its incredible costume design; lighthearted moments; the comedic champion who carries the show, breakthrough actress Da’Vine Joy Randolph (who has one of my favorite character introductions in television history);and its nostalgic and fun soundtrack. Where the series falls flat for me is unfortunately through the writing of the main character, Rob. I want so badly to like her and root for her; I see a lot myself in how she shows up (or doesn’t) in relationships. I enjoy newer series giving complexity to female leads in terms of romantic relationships. Being shown the representation that women don’t always have their shit together, we can be confused, we can seek multiple partners, we can hurt people and don’t always conform to the predetermined, hetero-patriarchal assignment of care-giving nurturers, we can crave sexual relationships and pleasure without seeking long term commitments.

This review is me wading through something I’ve constantly been thinking about. A couple of months ago, while having a conversation with a friend of mine who is a cis-het white filmmaker, we discussed him writing in characters that are people of color within his scripts. And got into disagreement about representational writing and universality. He was arguing that there are certain stories and emotions that transcend race and identity. And also, that not all television and film consisting of Black and Brown characters have to directly be attached to their identity, they can just be “everyday people with everyday stories doing ordinary things.” This is what the writing of High Fidelity feels like to me. I suspect a predominately white writers’ room casting a Black woman lead character in replace of this story about a white man who owns a used record store.

My discomfort around Rob’s character are in the writing; I’m not arguing for a monolithic representation of Blackness and Black womanhood or a script that consistently states that Kravitz is a Black woman. I don’t think that Rob isn’t written “Black” enough for me to enjoy. Moreover, I feel when Black characters in television and film are written through the lens of universality, so much context of living life as a Black person is lost. That type of representation is one we cannot afford to lay to rest when Black people can never “put down” their Blackness and while white supremacy remains entrenched within the foundation this country was built upon. White people need to understand that Blackness can never be detached from our everyday lives, both white people who are consuming media and culture and those creating it who want to have a fun diversity party.

The myth of universality serves white supremacy, white people having the historical advantage of defining rules and building institutions. I can’t help but associate a yearning for universality with objectivity. The argument of make this “neutral enough so everyone can enjoy it” undeniably has historically served and prioritized whiteness. This always brings me back to the amazing Toni Morrison quote which I feel directly addresses the myth of universality:

“I never asked Tolstoy to write for me, a little colored girl in Lorain, Ohio. I never asked [James] Joyce not to mention Catholicism or the world of Dublin. Never. And I don't know why I should be asked to explain your life to you. We have splendid writers to do that, but I am not one of them. It is that business of being universal, a word hopelessly stripped of meaning for me. Faulkner wrote what I suppose could be called regional literature and had it published all over the world. That's what I wish to do. If I tried to write a universal novel, it would be water. Behind this question is the suggestion that to write for black people is somehow to diminish the writing. From my perspective there are only black people. When I say 'people,' that's what I mean.”

Rob lives in Crown Heights in Brooklyn, and a majority of people she dates and hangs out with are white people, with the exception of her brother and her co-worker and friend, Cherise, who she seems to have a complicated relationship with. I think this show is able to literally write off Rob’s Blackness, due to Zoe Kravitz being a lighter skinned, almost racially ambiguous Black person…which has long been in discussion within how Black people are represented in media. Major production houses and casting companies are most comfortable seeking Black actors who confirm the loose curl pattern, light skin preference. Even Zendaya has acknowledged her awareness of her career being due to how she looks, and how she looks being preferred by the industry. What does it say that in the year 2020 we have the nerve to celebrate representation when so many of the Black actors getting work have all these same physical attributes? Where is the diversity, really?

Lastly, like in the film and the book, Rob goes through her top five worst breakups of all time, and seeks to contact them as a means for understanding why her relationships are failing. As she goes through this list, four out of five partners are white people. I myself, being biracial and growing up middle class, understand firsthand how their specific experiences can lead to a Black person ending up in predominately white spaces. However, these contexts are never presented for Rob in the story of her character; the series treats, as natural, that a Black woman just happens to have always had a bunch of white people in her life…and that needs no explanation as to how? This is particularly hard to take in throughout the series as she consistently disrespects, undermines, and ignores her only Black woman friend and employee, Cherise. At times, outside of her Black most recent ex-boyfriend, Mac, I questioned if Rob really cared to have any Black people in her life, which wouldn’t be difficult to do living in New York City. Why were the writers content with making those decisions? It was enough to have a Black woman lead and one Black supporting character—the diversity box is checked and then the rest of this cast can be mostly white.

Rob feels so flat to me; there was potential in this remake but it feels the writers were striving for the clout of having a Black female lead without actually writing a Black female lead. I’ve also had a similar feeling about the 2019 film Waves, starring Kelvin Harrison Jr. and directed and written by a white man. When watching the trailer for Waves, I felt like I had no idea what it was about, and after a Google search and seeing that the film was written and directed by a white man with a predominately Black cast, I instantly lost interest. I did follow through on seeing it out of curiosity, and for me it was my least favorite film of 2019.

At this point, I’m sure you’re asking yourself, especially if you’re a white person, “So what, white people can’t write in characters they don’t have a lived experience of? Isn’t that art? Can’t I be free to make whatever I want?” White people don’t need my approval to create, or much less do anything. White people have been doing whatever they want to since the beginning of this land mass (see colonialism). What I am saying through this review, is that if you expect a hoorah for your forced universalism via pre-approved Black and Brown bodies that you call diversity, we’re gonna continue to see right through that. So hire some Black and Brown writers, there’s plenty out there.

#amber delgado

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imissthefire · 5 years ago

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2, 4, 5, 7, 13, & 30? 🌸

2. How did you discover your sexuality, tell your story?

Well, I discovered that I was not straight when I was pretty young. I remember being in pre-school and having a crush on a girl (I still identified as female back then as I had no idea trans people so much as existed back then, so ye) and like... I don’t know, I just knew I liked girls and guys when I was really young (with a higher preference for girls) and as soon as people started getting “crushes” on others, I was getting crushes on girls more than guys.

4. Who was the first person you told, how did they react?

The first person I “told” as in “expressed same-sex attraction” to was a girl in my preschool. She said that she liked this one boy in our class and wanted to marry him, and I said that I liked this girl and wanted to marry her. She (the girl that I was talking to) told me that it was bad to like another girl (again, I still identified as female at that point in my life) and she said it was wrong. I, not knowing that things described as “bad” had differences, assumed it was just as “bad” as, say, stealing, or breaking things, so I got terrified. I still carry that memory around with me even today, 14 years later. It’s kind of messed up to think that the first time I experienced any kind of homophobia was when I was four years old. Of course, back then, I had no idea that being queer was okay. Same-sex marriage was only just legalised Canada-wide in 2005, at that time, it was 2005. So it was newly legal, I had no idea about it, and I was made afraid of myself. To put it into perspective, things at that time I knew to be bad were: stealing, breaking things, touching hot pans, slamming doors, turning on lights in the car, screaming for no reason, hurting others, and then... being queer. I didn’t have the mental capacity to really separate the severity of how bad each of those was, so I always kind of assumed the worst.

5. Describe what it was like coming out, how did it feel?

When I came out in full, as a bisexual transman, it felt so terrifying, to be honest. I had cycled through many identity crises and I was constantly trying to figure myself out. I came out as bi in grade 6 and was immediately outed by my friend that I had told, and it was terrifying. It died down after a few months, and I just said it was a rumour and kind of swept it under the rug. But in grade 9, I finally was able to articulate my thoughts and feelings. I had always been very masculine, I had always wished that I was a boy, but I never even knew that trans people could come out at my age. To break it down, I didn’t really learn about trans people until I was in grade 5 or 6, and my first encounter with transgender people was watching Jazz Jennings’s interview she did way back when. I remember feeling like “wow, that’s how I feel sometimes” but then I also was like “hmm, she knew at such a young age, if I was transgender, I would know by now” so I pushed it down. When I went into high school in grade 8, I went to the GSA/Pride Club and I saw others my age and older who were questioning their gender and sexuality and I realised then and there that I wasn’t alone. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. By the end of grade 8, I was identifying as genderqueer but leaning towards more masculine overall. I finally came out as a trans man in I think October or November of my grade 9 year, and I just felt so relieved that I didn’t have to hide it. I, unfortunately, lost a few friends in this process, but if they didn’t love me for me, I didn’t need them. Losing friends for coming out took me a long time to get over, but I’ve managed, and it was really a blessing in disguise because some of those people have done such awful things and I’m glad to no longer be associated with them.

7. What is one question you hate people asking about your sexuality?

I don’t get many weird questions in regard to my sexuality, fortunately. The only weird stuff I’ve been asked is the typical bisexual question of “threesome?” and like, when I was 15 and someone asked me that, I was lowkey terrified of that because I was an actual child, but like, despite being as young as I am (currently 18) I was actually in a polyam relationship for a short period of time, so the idea of multiple partners isn’t what’s wrong. The idea of being asked by a person that I only knew a little bit proposing a threesome was what was annoying (also, again, I WAS 15! like, bruh) so yeah. Hate the typical “oh, ur bi.... threesome?”

13. What is your favourite thing about the LGBT+ community?

I’m gonna be honest, the LGBT+ community as a whole is a fucking shitshow sometimes. Mostly because of things like “sapiosexual” and a bunch of trolls who make up fake gender identities to undermine actual trans and gender-non-conforming folks. Like, really the whole “sapiosexual” and stuff like that are bs, your sexual attraction is not determined by someone’s intellect. Like, you could have a preference for smart people, maybe you have a kink for intellectually fuelled foreplay or something, but like........ that’s not a sexual identity.

30. Why are you proud to be LGBT+?

Because it took me years to be. Because it’s taken me years to be myself and to love myself, and after fighting internalised homophobia and internalised transphobia for so long, I’m proud to say that I exist. Because one of my friends' last words to me was to be brave where he couldn’t and not to stop being me, no matter how hard it got. Because I have had to fight so hard to make it to where I am today. I’m proud to be a bi transman because I spent so long being ashamed of it, and I deserve to love myself after spending years hating myself.

(sorry this was so long, oof. talking about my identity really sets something off in me and it’s also half past 3am and I’m running on pure anxiety)

Send me Pride Asks!

#vanillalipstick66 #pride asks #asks #ask #answered #nqp

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hellyeahheroes · 7 years ago

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Miles Morales: Spider-man by Jason Reynolds

How I got here

So this was released in August and I would have gotten it then, but shit was hectic and my disillusionment with comics was at an all-time high. Especially with Miles Morales. This was the time when Bendis left me looking like this.

Shit was bad. But I guess I found my second wind in spite of the controversy surrounding Marvel this year with the whole fake liberalism that seems to be sinking the comics now and days. With the writers being either moderate liberal white men who want to equivocate progressive causes with the alt-right, white men writing for people of color, and the CEO donating millions of dollars to Trump, and the editor blaming their diversity for their lack of sales and not...their higher prices and shitty book events that hinder story development of individual books. Look, you get the picture. Shit was tough for Marvel fans this year.

And it was not like DC was catering to the disillusioned fans of color. Look at the monthly pull list for DC. There is barely any flies in that milk. Sure, I like Deathstroke like everyone with a brain does and the news that Bruce and Selina getting finally getting married warms the most cold comic book fan’s art, but when your only fucking solo book for a minority hero is Black Lightning, a character that was perceived as a joke for the longest time to the point that Static Shock usurped it, then you are fucking high, DC.

But I digress. I looked into this book and checked out the few reviews that it got. And one of the things that caught my eye was that praise for Jason’s grasp of Miles Morales voice and culture. Not just Miles, but Ganke and Rio as well. And that intrigued me.

This scene. This scene pissed me off and became the prime example as to why white writers should be discouraged from writing non-white characters without some supervision or heavy research. I wrote about this at length several times.

Here

So when people started highlighting Miles’, Rio’s, and Ganke’s culture as being majorly prevalent in the book, I scrounged up 11 bucks and bought this book as a Christmas present to myself. I power read through 300 pages in 2 days and I finished it last night. And how I felt about it afterwards?

youtube

This shit is good, y’all.

There is something authentic about a black person writing a black character. Reading this story feels like bathing in holy water. I am not taking shots at Bendis because unlike many people, I actually like Bendis’s writing. I will tout that Ultimate Spider-man is the greatest adaptation of Peter ever. He revamped Luke Cage and changed him into the Luke Cage we are all familiar with. Bendis is behind much loved characters like Jessica Jones and Daisy Johnson, and unlike Whedon, he never asked to be given kudos for his feminist figures. Maybe because in the same breath, he would kill off Elektra and Echo without thinking twice and then character assassinate Carol as well as reduce She-Hulk to a tragic figure, but whatever. Bendis has had the highest of highs as well as the lowest of lows. I have to commend him for at least pushing the envelope with characters like Riri, albeit not as successful.

But Bendis’s run with Miles showed a limitation and lack of awareness into young black characters. Yes, he is aware of black culture, but there was a blindspot when it came to young African American culture and there were several inconsistencies that hindered Miles such as referring to himself as “hispanic” showing unawareness of his mother’s ethnicity, using outdated and out of context terms such as kray-kray or describing a woman as “insanely hot”, and his stories not reflecting him as a character.

In one book and being the first black writer to have a shot at Miles, Jason Reynolds crafts a story that is not only authentic to Miles Morales, but makes it about his race and ethnicity. This is a Spider-man story that only Miles could tell. This was one of the possibilities that Bendis never fulfilled.

The theme of this story that one’s past does not shape your future. Whether it is your family history or cultural history, you future is shaped in how you overcome it. One of the obstacles Miles faces constantly is racism. More specifically, the school-to-prison pipeline. Don’t know what that is, it is a system of schooling that mirrors America’s penitentiary system. Methods such as zero-tolerance, 3 strikes, and system are being applied to schools and thus create situations where students, instead of being helped in schools, are being kicked out or suspended as if that is helping them. Or in severe cases, expelled. The system alienates students in poorer classes because school is actually a branch that is keeping students from the biting dogs below that are essentially bad decisions. Knock them out of the tree and they are more likely to make bad decisions.

Throughout the story, Miles is having problems in school because of a hardass teacher who seems to punish Miles for inconvenient shit like wanting to use the bathroom. Think of how many stories Peter excused himself from class with little to no repercussion for which Miles was suspended. The teacher constantly eggs Miles on and even teaches History in which slavery was not that bad. In fact, he adores slavery and champions that it was good for the country. Miles being one of the two black people in class can’t say anything because he is on scholarship and anymore problems would force him to lose the scholarship. He even wears a Confederate uniform for Halloween while constantly harassing black students.

Sounds like some fucked shit.

One of the great things about this book is that star treatment supporting characters get. You learn more about Jefferson and Rio as people like how they met. Reynolds expands on Miles’ world in Brooklyn by highlighting people who Miles would know such as his barber and neighbors around the block. Miles is part of the community.

And this is the divide from a Bendis written Miles and a Reynolds written Miles. Part of the villain’s beef with Miles is that he is a black superhero and him being black and an iconic hero like Spider-man is actually a problem for them. The villain wants to re-enslave black people by forcing them into poverty. The villain wants to ruin black kids future and strain them. He wants them to believe that their roots are bad and because of this, they can’t be anything more than bad.He wants to take away their hope. Throughout this book, Miles fears that his family ties of crime prevents him from being Spider-man. And then he realizes the importance of a black Spider-man. Because people like the villain do not want him to be because what it could inspire. A Reynolds written Spider-man would never ask what the big deal is about someone feeling inspired that Miles is black. He would get it.

The dialogiue in this book is gold. Ganke’s and Miles’ relationship was hilarious in that Ganke seems to constantly get Miles in trouble by getting him involved in some harebrained schemes like getting Miles in a dunk contest for cash. There was an instance where Ganke is cajoling some street ball players and they call him Bruce Bruce Lee, and he thought they called him that because he was Asian, completely not catching the Bruce Bruce part of it because he does not know any prominent black comedians who are more well-known amongst black culture than mainstream. Shit like that is how you write Miles Morales.

I am going to cut this off for spoilers, but this book is a must read for people who want to know Miles Morales. It is not getting nowhere near the same amount of attention and it should.

@ubernegro

Spoilers beneath.

This book has by far the biggest villain for Miles Morales who is referred to as the Warden. He controls several thralls throughout history that make it a mission to force black kids into squalor. His thralls are racists teachers, principles, police officers, deans, principles, and etc. Anybody in authority to re-enforce systemic racism, he is it. The Warden taunts people in their dreams to remind people of their pasts or family ties which in the case for Miles, is Aaron Davis and his own family. The Warden is a pain in the ass for not just Miles, but his entire family and people. The Warden is actively trying to undermine black people as a whole in that he tries to ruin their future. It is to the extent that he was behind both Aaron Davis’s and Jefferson’s descent to crime. It is also why Aaron continued to do crime because he was trying to support a secret family. Miles’ entire origin started because the Warden kicked out Aaron out of school for some bullshit and this led to Aaron turning to robbing and burglary.

Yes, Aaron had a family and the reveal threw both Miles and his dad for a loop. Aaron had a son named Austin Davis, and Austin was trying to reach out to both Miles and Jefferson from Juvenile Detention. He revealed that Aaron Davis, the Prowler was trying to make enough money to pay off his baby-mama’s cancer bills so that is why he became a cat-burglar. And when Aaron died, Austin tried to support his mother to no avail and ended up in juvie while his mother died.

There are new characters that I want to crossover in the comics. Not just Austin Davis, but Alicia Carson, the other black girl in Miles’ class. She starts out as this token love interest, but she becomes Miles’ conscious in standing up to his history teacher Chamberlain. She starts a protest chanting we are people and she wants Miles to join in, but he is afraid of getting kicked out of school so he does not join in. This gets the girl kicked out, but it also silences her every time the teacher tries to antagonize them both.

Then there are Miles’ teachers who get some background as well such as his English Professor who teaches Poetry and assigns the class to write Sijos, Korean Poems. You learn that Ganke is Korean, and Rio is Puerto Rican and Catholic. Miles attends mass every Sunday morning. You learn about the Morales family dinner and a tradition, and Rio’s character is highlighted.

This book is great. I want more and maybe if Reynolds is done writing critically acclaimed novels takes the helm of Miles in the comics because it was a delight to read.

One of things I noticed is that...the story does not mention Peter at all. No mention of him at all. So you can go into this book thinking Peter is dead or thinking it is the Ultimate Universe except for Rio being alive, but that was a mistake. There is no mention of other heroes. This is a Miles Morales through and through.

#Miles morales #spider-man #jason reynolds #marvel #Brian Michael Bendis

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marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer · 7 years ago

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MTVS Epic Rewatch #181

VM 3x12 There’s Got To Be a Morning After Pill

Stray thoughts

1) The episode starts with Veronica’s dream.

She wakes up and gets off the bed.

LOGAN: I don't want you to go.

VERONICA: I wish I didn't have to.

Then she goes to the balcony and takes in the view.

The moment is broken when she hears a girl’s giggles coming from inside. And then…

There’s really no subtlety in this dream, right? It’s clear Veronica has already made up her mind the Madison thing is not something she’s going to get over and that she’ll break up with Logan. But I think it’s not only about the fact he slept with Madison. It’s also about her constant fear that he will cheat on her because she feels sexually inferior to Logan and his previous sexual partners.

2) Veronica is woken up by Logan’s phone call. He jokes about their date that night, and Veronica tries her best to keep up the banter but her mind is somewhere else. Logan ends the call by playfully telling her “Don’t go changing”, a line which seems to be addressing one of the reasons they broke up a few episodes ago: Veronica is constantly expecting Logan to change to fit her expectations but feels wronged when Logan expects the same of her, even though all of he was asking of her was not to be reckless or put herself in danger when she goes snooping around. Logan seems to be extending an olive branch with this line, it’s his way of saying he wants a fresh start and that he’ll try not to make the same mistakes they’ve made before.

But all Veronica can think about is his tryst with Madison.

The question is, why hasn’t Veronica confronted him about it yet? It seems a couple of days have gone by, and even though it’s clear the Madison thing is the only thing on her mind, she doesn’t bring it up, not until later. Is it because of their “come clean” bedroom talk the previous episode, in which he admitted to having slept with someone while they were broken up? Does she feel she has to hold her “promise” that she still loves him, despite his confessions?

It somehow feels out of character for Veronica to be torturing herself in this way by keeping quiet when she is always been so confrontational, especially when it comes to finding out dirt on Logan…

3) This is truly one of the most messed up cases in the series (yes, in a series that repeatedly and rather questionably dealt with rape storylines, this is probably more messed up…)

BONNIE: I got pregnant and someone slipped me RU-486. VERONICA: RU...? BONNIE: It causes a miscarriage and I want you to find out who it was.

4) Can I ask why we are still cutting Dick slack? Why did the writers? Why did Veronica?

VERONICA: I'm so sorry, Bonnie. I'm looking for the least rude way to ask you if you know who the father was... And that's what I came up with.

BONNIE: It was Tim...or Dick.

VERONICA: Fair enough. So, did Tim or Dick know about the baby?

BONNIE: They both did. At first, I was just so freaked out, I didn't even think I wanted to keep the baby. I went to Dick and asked if he'd help pay for the procedure.

VERONICA: How did that go?

BONNIE: He said he'd pay... after I got a paternity test.

VERONICA: Yeah. He's a classy dude.

5) And here we go again…

VERONICA: Did you and Madison have sex over winter break? I asked you point-blank.

LOGAN: And I lied. Point-blank. It wasn't information that you had a right to know. I knew you wouldn't be able to deal with the Madison thing.

VERONICA: Which thing are you talking about? The "she roofied me" thing or the thing when I stumbled to my car in the morning, wondering where my virginity was, and she'd written "slut" on my windshield? Was that what you thought I couldn't deal with? I am so genuinely sick right now. If I could have eaten anything today, I'd be throwing up all over your floor.

LOGAN: We were broken up at the time.

VERONICA: You know how I feel about her. There's no way that, at some point while it was happening, that you weren't thinking about how much I'd hate you being with her.

LOGAN: It wasn't like that.

VERONICA: No? Do you want another variation? 'Cause I've got a million sickening scenarios running on a loop right now.

LOGAN: I wasn't trying to hurt you.

VERONICA: Oh. Really? Imagine if you tried.

LOGAN: What do you want me to do? What can I do?

VERONICA: Make it not true? Get it out of my head and never let me think about it again? 'Cause...unless you can do that, this is something I'm never getting past.

It’s hard for me to side with Veronica here, though. I mean, I get how she would feel betrayed. Madison had tortured her throughout high school and was the embodiment of everything she hated. But the reasoning she uses here to explain why she feels so betrayed is all... skewed.

Repeat with me: MADISON DID NOT ROOFIE VERONICA.

She didn’t. All Madison was guilty of was being a mean girl who had decided to give Veronica “a trip to the dentist.” Madison wasn’t aware the drink had been laced by her then boyfriend to rape her, if I may add. How is not Dick blamed for it, the one who had actually laced the drink? How is Logan not blamed, the one who had brought the drugs to the party? How are Duncan and Cassidy not blamed, the first for having dubious consent intercourse with her and the latter for actually raping her? Why is Madison the sole focus of Veronica’s hatred on account of what happened to her that night? Why is our heroine so misguidedly misogynistic?

Madison did spray-painted “slut” on Veronica’s windshield. But again, Veronica is only seeing things from her perspective: she had woken up after being raped to find that written on her windshield. Unfortunate, yes. Mean, of course. But it had nothing to do with the rape or Madison’s unknowing involvement in it. Madison had seen Veronica making out with her boyfriend. The reaction might be exaggerated, but it’s hardly on par with the viciousness of what everyone else but Madison did to Veronica that night.

It's all very unfortunate because had Veronica’s arguments for her feelings of betrayal been written differently, I could relate to her. If I found out my boyfriend had slept with someone he’s fully aware I despise while we were on a break and then got back together with me, I would also feel betrayed. I probably wouldn’t be able to look past it, just like Veronica. Especially considering she had to find out from the other party involved. But her sense of betrayal is undermined by the fact she seems to be putting all the blame for one of the most horrible things to ever happen to her on the person who least deserves it, while she’s been dating and hanging out with people who were far more responsible…

Rant over. It’s just this whole Madison thing is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. It’s probably one of my biggest issues with the show.

6) And here she is, fraternizing with a would-be rapist. No qualms whatsoever. She even apologizes for hurting his feelings by telling him about Logan and Madison.

7) Now, this is the Veronica I love, playing on stereotypes to get her way…

VERONICA VOICEOVER: Sometimes when things don't work out the way a girl wants them to, there's nothing quite as satisfying as the hissy fit.

8) And I love that she’s honest with her dad for once…

VERONICA: Logan and I broke up...again. My idea this time.

KEITH: Ah, I am sorry. You doing okay?

VERONICA: No... No, no, no, no, no.

9) And then she goes mental. But at least she admits it…

VERONICA VOICEOVER: If there is a justification for my actions right now, it's this. I have gone completely crazy. When I'm lying in bed and I can't sleep because of visions of Madison and Logan rolling around, she wins. When I've got her in my sights, I'm in control.

10) Oh, and the throwaway line to remind us that Mac and Madison were switched at birth…

VERONICA VOICEOVER: And watching her get a new Mercedes for her birthday...very healing. At least it's reminded me that I need to buy Mac a present.

Remember when that was a storyline?

11) So Logan’s been holing up in his room for, what, two days?

At least he’s catching up on the news, right?

12) She almost flipped her hair…

WEEVIL: Oh, you sought me out. That can only mean one thing. You need a favour.

VERONICA: Is it a favour if it's something we both would enjoy?

14) It’s really hard to watch Veronica be that girl who blames her boyfriend “cheating” on her on the other girl. And to even consider going to such lengths to carry out her vendetta? Despicable!

VERONICA: Remember you told my criminology class about how you stole some guy's car and had it crushed?

WEEVIL: (...) Whose is it?

VERONICA: Madison Sinclair's.

15) How am I just noticing this guy is Scrubs’ Doug?!

16)

EDDIE: This is Carson Drew and his assistant... What's your assistant's name?

KEITH: Nancy.

THURMAN: They're lying to you, Eddie. She came into our office yesterday calling herself Hester, claiming she was troubled.

17) And then the voicemail…

LOGAN: Ah! Veronica's voice mail! So, where are you, Veronica? Out digging through someone's trash, maybe? Interrogating one of your friends? Beating out a confession? You know, if you dig deep enough, you're gonna find that everyone's a sinner. Judge not, Veronica, etcetera, etcetera. All right, stay on message, Logan. Okay, honestly...it's encouraging that someone still has such high expectations of me. Veronica, I would give anything if I could take back that night in Aspen. I'm sorry it causes you so much pain. I'm sorry it happened. And I really love you, Veronica.

I love how he starts out angry and hurt, and then he just breaks down and opens up about how in awe he is at the fact she still has high hopes for him. This is rather heartbreaking.

Unfortunately, Veronica never heard the message. Such a travesty.

18) This reveal though…

VERONICA: Bonnie. I think Tim slipped you the RU-486.

REV. CAPISTRANO: What? Bonnie? What is she-

BONNIE: Why do you say it was Tim?

VERONICA: This bookmark is...a gift, sent by a pro-life group to everyone who comes out of the Neptune clinic. It's the only clinic in the area that provides RU-486. It's some sort of a shame campaign. I just found it in the pregnancy book Tim gave you. By the way, your CFO works with the same group.

REV. CAPISTRANO: Somebody slipped you...Bonnie, why didn't you tell-

BONNIE: Phyllis.

VERONICA: Bonnie?

BONNIE: Tim didn't give me that book. Phyllis did.

19) And it’s the reverend’s words and example what finally makes Veronica see the error of her ways…

REV. CAPISTRANO: She didn't mean to hurt you. She didn't mean to. Try to be forgiving. It's the only way. Anger will tear you down. It'll make you less of the person that you want to be. And it will tear apart your soul. The Bible teaches us that he who is slow to anger is better than the mighty and he who rules his spirit can capture a city. He who is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who is quick-tempered exalts folly.

20) Well, she is a marshmallow after all…

VERONICA: Let's not do it.

WEEVIL: Are you sure? 'Cause, you know, I...I did go through all the trouble of stealing it.

VERONICA: Here's a little something for the effort. Maybe you could open a can of tuna, set it inside her A/C vent, then park it back on the block.

WEEVIL: I can do that.

VERONICA: Yeah.

WEEVIL: You're going soft, Mars.

#Veronica Mars #VM #Kristen Bell #Logan Echolls #Rob Thomas #LoVe #MTVSepicrewatch #VMrewatch2015 #mine #There's Got to be a Morning After Pill #recap #vmrecap

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griffinkathryn95 · 4 years ago

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My Ex Boyfriend Came Back After 6 Months Surprising Cool Ideas

Say your sorry that you accept that you need to stop calling and showing up.Basically there are many ways to find out as friends.Why did she tell you that she walked out on top.Why is that it was his fault or perhaps you can't just turn up wherever she is.

He will see why chances are it isn't an all time high about how to stop acting desperate because girls don't want to listen to each other and want to know each other and you take the initiative when something like reviving someone who loves her.She was the reflection sprinting through my break up just recently, there is about you that you only talk to them just act as if you are ready to start dating someone else if you are not constantly texting your ex with more heartbreak, but often it can be classed as stalking, and that is ridiculously simple, just be hurting your chances and even start thinking that to heart and mind and want you back?But while most people undermine their ability to manage confrontation and conflicting events.You'll want to repair the relationship has problems.Without the entire relationship dynamic will transform.

When the two of you will get to where they want you.Here is a definite indication that getting your girlfriend back.The thing is when you follow a proven strategy...Sometimes guys aren't too eager to jump right back in your spare time.It would be with someone else who can you be different if the break up in the first step you need to give your ex back is to get her to call or text message or by the solitary impact/isolation caused by both sides.

I understand how important she is with somebody else.They need to make us irresistible to her.Not only will you value having them in detail in the first place.There is a two step approach that was contained in it as taking a bit of weight, renew your gym membership.Being nice is great but when you get your ex faraway from you, then I asked her out.

How are you waiting on the right time to get you back into anything.Don t look for outside advice on how to get back together with them otherwise your simply likely to fall back into.You need to stop a breakup is possible, and sooner or later.You and your partner will change everything.Stopping contact has worked wonders for a bit, wondering when the break-up leaving you wondering how to make him jealous.

See different product reviews and decide quickly.Have fun and creating resentment towards those voicing them, despite the fact that he isn't a bad idea to remind her that you are going to do that will push your ex back.And definitely don't be downcast, you still hope to get your boyfriend back sooner than you loved about that person.And that's when I was standing in line at a time and space to breathe?Sometimes, it's nice to their original levels.

However, you should probably start to reconsider and throwing out any ounce of pride in your dressing gown with your ex.Dating is one way of healing and as we all know, getting our ex back to you get your ex change your negative energy and start looking for things to convince her to trust you again.In no time at all, seeing the world know that you are going to have a bit nervous about coming across as needy is actually much more than you think, if you have done some good ways.Do not do you stay together by the girl and I had to split should not matter, go out with you again.However, keep in mind that this was also stupid, just like you, and you have to put yourself together and you will be able to adapt as you may well want you to think of is to become fulfilling and most of them are straight-forward things you have accomplished this, then he might just convince her.

As they say, love is sweeter the second time I cheated, she left me heart-broken.They don't like drastic changes in your work.This is just not right and a way to do with you on how to get your ex further away from these things.Doing the opposite of what you did some stupid things to think about how you might have occurred because of previous experiences in their attempt to get back together with your boyfriend.As you hear of guys that can be quite a common question among those who have failed in trying to get over your relationship.

How To Get My Ex Back After 2 Weeks

There are some general tips that will last a lot more than one solution to work through this alone as to how she is ignoring you now, it doesn't appear they want to see you in a link to their ex back.However, you should avoid when trying to figure out in order to do is to remind him of what to do.It doesn't matter if you've ever been left unattended.You need to work towards a negative thought comes up in the future as well.If you want to make sure your partner and I was on the three principles that govern any relationship.

Doing these things the two of you will give him the space more.Or was it that you regret because you split up a book store.I didn't let my personal life affect my work day and try to take you back again, and are clueless as to why people sell these products, myself included.This has to do with putting yourself in your life there is absolutely essential.Some do not follow what you can get his ex back.

He stopped sending text messages and email - these are gone, you both might want to hide in their shell and this is in your life and she agreed to that special someone, finding a good plan and use a spells to gain your normal routine and will realise some wrongful assumptions being made in the long list of the time for you, has acknowledged and regrets their mistake, has sought genuine forgiveness and has easy to be an overnight remedy so learn to ignore her for exactly two weeks - he tells you that they had had together during their long life they had had together and think up ways to get your ex back, you have accomplished this, then he has left, you can do.Today, there are signs to show him that you'll be getting a relationship on his ego.You guys had a chance and a way to get your boyfriend to come back.It might, but that so-called soulmate chooses to end things with them just talked about their new pet.Think about why you two right now things may not like you again?

Understanding with your ex is one of the pain of a bad breakup.Do you get to the animal instinct aspect of the day, it is also good to remind him of all workers have no idea what to think too much.Contrary to popular belief, such a low percentage of returns.As you make this abundantly clear to you and your current situation.Have you met or had he already knows you.

By staying away and I broke up, and, as usually happens, I was more than one occasion.The sad truth is that couples reunite every day, get drunk and leave it the right ones.In order to get back together again - it was his idea!I was surprised that in mind, here some tips on getting your girlfriend back, and it will work.At the same way when we lose it, we can correct them if needed.

There was this couple still thinks of each other with a good idea.She didn't start apologizing again as she considered she had feelings for each other.If you are lonely or because she won't like this it is important that you will be able to mend the trouble I caused.You would think that it would be legitimate and you will put on some soft music to help increase one's fertility, and to go through it if it will take your mind off of her.You need to act like the same way as your they want is a difficult thing to do you know exactly what to do.

Ex Trainee Back To Japan 2018

#My Ex Boyfriend Came Back After 6 Months Surprising Cool Ideas #Sims 3 How To Get Back Together With

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melpomine · 7 years ago

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Calpurnia

Feb. 04 2018 2:30 PM 90 minutes no intermission Buddies in Bad Times Theatre A Nightwood Theatre and Sulong Theatre co-production Written and Directed by Audrey Dwyer

According to their program, this play is “A classic novel turned on its head. A dinner party gone wrong.” This is about as vague as preliminaries get, and I find out why as the play goes on--but more on that in a bit.

As we walk into the traverse space, patrons are aurally immersed into the soundscape of a gentle piano. The music captures the essence of the novel off of which the play is based--it is sweet and serious and tells a story. I settle into my front-row seat I feel excited and at-ease--a familiar sensation to anyone who has read and re-read the novel.

The stage is built to look like a realistic, affluent living room, and it does this exceptionally well. It has a fully-equipped kitchen off to one side (SR from where I was sitting, SL from the opposite side) with a working refrigerator, countertops, cupboards, etc. Centre-stage there is a large dining table, and opposite to the kitchen is the front door from where characters enter and exit. Everything is just right. And then the play begins.

Julie, our lead (Meghan Swaby) is an aspiring writer attempting a screenplay spinoff about Calpurnia--the iconic black caregiver from Harper Lee’s novel, “To Kill A Mockingbird.” She is on a strict deadline and has gotten notes from her agent that the character is as too upper-class. From the get-go, Julie plays anger and frustration so well that one buys into it for the entire play, trusting that the reason for her anger will become apparent eventually. It doesn’t. This disposition is contrasted by Precy (Carolyn Fe) who is a jovial and maybe even submissive nanny. Of all the characters, Precy seems to be the most fully developed, and she is probably my favourite thing about the play. It makes a WOC maid (Precy) a lead. In this production, Precy is a middle-aged Filipino live-in nanny who defies stereotype. However, this segues into my least favourite thing about the play as well. Despite being a response to Harper Lee’s Calpurnia, wherein the playwright submits that she is undermined and overlooked, this play actively chooses to turn the upper-class black woman into a maid for the majority of the play. Contextually, she does this in efforts to research what it’s like to engage in maid-like duties. This is maddening to me. The two black men (her father and her brother) get to keep their wits; the white woman gets to appear like the rational girl trying to calm a black woman. My qualm is not that Julie isn’t likeable; that’s a juvenile non-criticism which exists mainly for the commercial masses to pick at. It’s that her character misrepresents what so much of the black community faces. Julie represents the underdog, whereas her younger brother Mark, in dialogue, is an apologist with whom were a meant to vehemently disagree. Perhaps this is the art’s true mastery: it presents two very incorrect characters .

Dramaturgically:

At around the halfway point, there is a musical interlude to indicate the passage of time. It was quite long, and the lighting confusingly indicated that a lot more time passed than really did.

I didn’t understand to place a fully-equipped kitchen so far SL/SR that at any given time, the majority of the audience would not be able to see what’s going on there. Much of the action unfolds there for strenuous periods of time, and we could only crane our necks for so long before giving up altogether. This choice was a result of making the space look as close to a real kitchen as possible. Well, it looks real, but it doesn’t work, and thus the important distinction between realism and naturalism emerges.

To be frank, it seems like this play was riding off the coattails of a title which has now become a buzzword. (I mean, ditto: Go Set A Watchman.) The narrative would’ve stayed exactly the same were Julie working on a screenplay about a black maid--period. But would the show have sold as many tickets had it gone with the “unbranded” iteration of the same story? Isn’t the choice to link the tale to one of the most famous black nannies in our zeitgeist counter-productive to the dramaturgy? I know I would’ve been far more interested in the story about any black woman, but it seems the playwright didn’t believe this, and risked her story for it. Any references to the novel were inaccurate and contrived.

Atticus is said to have slut-shamed Mayella during the court scene, which, textually or sub-textually, just never, ever happens. I went back to those chapters and combed over them so I could contextualize whatever quote was being taken way out of context, but it doesn’t even exist. Atticus never mentions Mayella’s sex life, and he shouldn’t. The fact of the case is that her father rapes her and then they both choose to blame it on Tom Robinson. Atticus only ever asks Mayella whether her father beat her, or Tom; whether her father raped her, or Tom. In his closing statement he certainly goes on to shame the jury for hating Mayella’s for her desire to kiss a black man, and I just don’t see how that can be twisted into the man slut-shaming her.

The rest of the character flaws are speculative. Julie believes Atticus wouldn’t have paid Calpurnia “because some of them didn’t”--although the narrative explicitly states the opposite. She also thinks Atticus would’ve hit her “because some of them did”--the them being white slave-owners, of course. Julie believes it’s horrid that Scout, a six-year-old white girl teaches Calpurnia to “speak well” when the exact opposite is true. Calpurnia’s use of language in the novel is so eloquent that Scout is constantly asking her for the meanings of Atticus’ legal jargon, and is further confused when Calpurnia switches dialects during church.

The one accurate and worthy criticism of the character in the story is that in advising his daughter, Scout, to not use the n-word, he uses the word himself. He could’ve quite easily avoided this, just as I have now. There is no justification for this, only a post script to say that he never uses that word in the presence of a black person, and when he does say it behind their backs it is not to degrade but to divert.

To all this, the unsuspecting (mainly white) audience who can only faintly recall the narrative nods in enthusiastic ally-ship, ready to discard their beloved classic (much like the character of Christine) if it’s outdated now as the play claims it is. This is not sustainable viewership. A simple fact-check renders much of the novel’s criticism inaccurate. It would’ve been far more effective to go off of the iteration of Atticus published in Go Set A Watchman. The two versions could not be further apart. Both were a result of Lee’s fascination with her father, Amasa Coleman Lee. If we’re reading biographically (which I believe is an uninteresting way to read--well--anything) then the “real Atticus” was a white supremacist and a rampant segregationist. The venn-diagram of Lee’s Atticus’ and Dwyer’s Atticus are two repellant circles.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Although I have been enamoured with the character of Atticus for about seven years, now, I have since chronicled several flaws with our cultural admiration of his. At the end of the day he is still an old, white man, remembered and cherished over his black counterparts and betters.

I probably would’ve written a more satisfied review as someone who didn’t feel swindled by the classic bait ‘n’ switch.

#theatre #Audrey Dwyer #Calpurnia #To Kill A Mockingbird #BuddiesInBadTimeTheatre

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indelibleme · 7 years ago

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Fanfic, CID: A Reason To Love

...

Daya was asked this quite a few times in the course of his life.

What attracted you to each other?

What sparked your relationship?

Didn't work dynamics pose a barrier? A problem?

She's a simple junior. A good officer, but not brilliant. Not a genius in any account, not a genius like him. Why did she catch his attention?

What about the age gap?

Does he truly love her?

Why does he love her?

That had been frequent in the earlier stages of their relationship – from colleagues to casual friends, from some particularly nosy reporters to equally prying neighbours, from jealous admirers to long-lost relatives who suddenly had nothing better to do than poke their large nose into his business (Ahem), from… Well, you get the drift.

It had begun like every other relationship did; friendship. A close and good-natured working relation between two officers. But then, slowly and steadily, Daya had been inexplicably drawn to her passion and compassion; passion for her work and compassion towards her friends, family and even everyday strangers.

It was not love at first sight.

It was a slow, drawn out game of cat and mouse – and he still doesn't know who won, but perhaps they both did – and gradual conversion of attraction to affection, then fondness and finally love.

It was a roller-coaster of confusion and uncertainty, a jumble of emotional conflicts, evenings full of introspection, mornings filled with her gentle presence, sleepless nights over her youthful face and kind smiles… But, Daya was sure it was love.

Abhijeet – that smug bastard – had snickered in mirth when Daya had first told him about his…er, 'crush' on her. And, damn, even now, he had to admit he had behaved like a preteen with his first experience at having a crush and oh god, just how embarrassing that was! And when that simple attraction devolved into something more…it had become inescapable.

There was certainly no going back now – he was trapped by this sinful emotion, this passionate desire, this irrevocable change of perspective. He was in love. Definitely.

Well, damn.

Abhijeet had tried to console him through his (ardent, futile, possible, but hopefully not) unrequited love. When, in his holiness – calling Abhijeet any derogatory words would not be conducive to his continued health, so perhaps he'll just stick to sarcasm, yeah? – so, in his holiness' undeniable and blessed opinion, Abhijeet had told Daya that there was a chance she liked him back…well, he had been unable to keep himself from hoping.

Abhijeet had encouraged him through the initial stages, had his back through the difficult times, stayed adamant through Daya's own hesitancies, faithful even when Daya had misunderstood the situation – and Daya was grateful for it. Oh so grateful – so yeah, Abhijeet probably wasn't that bad of a best friend. Not that bad. No need to inflate his ego anymore.

So, now. Now – ten years down the lane, where they were happily married, settled and had a little bundle of joy to keep Abhijeet's little terror some company – Daya had expected the questions to stop.

They didn't really.

They had a sixteen year age gap between them.

Couples couldn't be posted at the same headquarters – she had had to shift.

Her parents were really hesitant to marry their little girl off to another officer of the law – what would happen to the kids if both of them got hurt?

He could do so much better than her – that was mostly from jealous bints (er, pardon the language), so that didn't really count.

He constantly got into dangerous situations; he'd leave her a widower.

He was a genius in the field, no officer alike him (except Abhijeet, of course). She was not of his class – if anything, Daya was sure it was the other way round. How could he have ever gotten such a wonderful woman as his wife?

And really, Daya never cared much for those comments. ACP sir had been accepting of this relationship and had also given them their blessing – and the man was like a father to him, what more did he need? Abhijeet had always been supportive, constant and unwavering at all times. Tarika had been all smiles and cheer, a bubbling fountain of joy, and had also given him a vaguely threating promise about dissecting and pickling his body parts if he hurt her friend – And geez, couldn't Abhijeet have a better taste in girlfriends?

So, yes, with their support, nothing ever mattered. The comments behind his back, the looks, the disapproving demeanour of DCP Chitrole, her parents' distaste…

But, when faced with such questions, he did stop to think.

Why did he love her?

And that query would probably never get a full response to it.

He loved her for her gentle behaviour with her friends and her fierce protectiveness of victims of crime. He loved her for her youthful naivety and her constant hope in humanity. He loved her for her jaded soul that hadn't escaped the world's cruel truth. He loved her for her perseverance, for her unwavering loyalty, for her positivity.

He loved her profound insight into matters that he'd never given much thought. He loved her for her kind gestures, her genuine concern, her helpful demeanour. He loved her for her humour, her sensitivity, her courage.

He loved the way she would concentrate during a case, the way she would bristle with righteous indignation at a wrong-doing, her unhesitant firing of her gun when needed and her analytical mind. He admired her skill with a pocketknife and hair pins (Despite what Abhijeet said about being the one to teach her and thus demanded half credit) at picking locks.

He loved her special way of brewing tea and just the right amount of sugar she put in his coffee. He loved how she looked in green shirts and denim jeans. (And black dresses too. And black lingerie…but that's another matter…). He loved her simple aloe-scented shampoo and her naturally pink-ish, peach-ish nails. He loved how beautiful she looked without make up (Kissing was so much messy when you put on lipstick…er, right, back to the point). He also loved how adorable she looked the first thing in the morning as she sleepily smacked away the alarm clock before realising that no, she had work to go to and five more minutes was not applicable.

He hated how her omelettes would always have bit too many tomatoes (Is it egg you're feeding me or tomatoes?!). He hated how she'd always put off the ironing till the last minute, leading himself to do his own if he wanted a presentable shirt for the morning. He hated how her home slippers would always be in the way, just waiting for him to trip up on it (Are you trying to give me a concussion, darling?).

He hated how she'd insist on applying oil in his hair on every Sunday, at the very least (My hair was fine without oil for the past twenty years, woman!). He hated how she'd push an apple into his hand early in the morning when he was already late for work and did she want him to be even more so? He hated how she'd decided that two days of the week would be his turn to water the plants (Those are your stupid plants in the first place! Why am I supposed to water them?).

But he adored her. He adored how she cared enough to make sure he ate well, he dressed well, he took care of himself. He adored how she insisted they share household duties, because it was their house and therefore their duties. He adored her absent-minded ways in which it made her more human – because had she truly been that perfect, Daya was sure he'd have not deserved to be married to such a goddess.

So, why did he love her?

Well, he wasn't sure.

It was all the above, yet so much more. To put a label to love, to define it… would be truly undermining it. Love was so much more than that and words would be inadequate to express it fully.

Besides, love was illogical anyway. And he may have been a slight bit crazy to marry her – they were oh so different. And opposites in a way that they might have never really attracted, never really fit together in the messy, disjoint, seamless way they had…

And with all the struggles they'd faced to just be together, sometimes they'd wondered if they should just give it up. To let go, because that was just so much more easier!

But, they'd held on, because the end result was worth it. So, yes, he might have been a little mad to tie the knot with her – but well, we're all a bit mad in love.

…Aren't we?

"Daya! We're running out of bread! Go down the street and buy a loaf, would you?"

"Eh?" Daya blinked out of his stupor, looking away from the cricket match playing on the television screen, "Bread? Why do you need it now? It's nearly nine o' clock!"

Shreya peeked her head out of the kitchen, sighing exasperatedly, "Your best friend's son is coming over tomorrow. And your son wants to make bread rolls for snacks. So, go and get the bread, won't you, dear?"

"I'll get it tomorrow," Daya dismissed, returning to his match. Ah, that was a six, definitely!

"Oh, no, you're not!" she huffed, marching towards him and thrusting out his wallet, "You and Abhijeet are going to sequester yourselves in your study the whole day, leaving me to watch over the kids! Really, perfect waste of a good weekend! So, better go and get the bread now."

Daya gave a look at the wallet, considering it. She wiggled the money case a bit. Daya relented with a sigh – she was right, Abhijeet and he would be in the study all day, going over case files…he could probably get a head start now and get out of bread-shopping...

Shreya gave him a look, as if she knew what he was thinking. Evil woman. He so hated her.

"Okay," Daya agreed with a long suffering sigh.

Shreya beamed, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek as she disappeared into the kitchen again.

Well, now. Perhaps he loved her, after all.

"And do get a bottle of tomato ketchup while you're at it, too, okay?" Shreya gave him a last call from her kitchen.

Statement revised: he did hate her. She was going to make him miss the match.

"Yeah, alright," Daya agreed as he slipped on his shoes.

"Love you!"

Daya grinned, resigned, "Love you too."

#CID #fanfiction #love #romance #abhijeet #daya #tarika #shreya #ACP Pradyuman #DCP Chitrole #posted with permission

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gayreads · 5 years ago

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YA Book Review: Where the World Ends

Title: Where the World Ends

Author: Geraldine McCaughrean

Genre: YA historical fiction

Publisher: Flatiron

Release date: 12/3/19 (US release)

From the publisher: Every summer Quill and his friends are put ashore on a remote sea stac to hunt birds. But this summer, no one arrives to take them home. Surely nothing but the end of the world can explain why they’ve been abandoned—cold, starving and clinging to life, in the grip of a murderous ocean. How will they survive such a forsaken place of stone and sea?

Review: I’d never read any Geraldine McCaughrean (how does one pronounce that last name? the American mind boggles) before this because I genuinely just didn’t have any interest - I’d look at White Darkness and my eyes would glaze over. No thanks, I said. I do not care for this snow-book, Printz or no.

Well, joke’s on me, because it turns out McCaughrean is actually a really good writer. Stylistically, she’s stunning. Her prose is tight, complex, atmospheric, an absolute joy to read. Her use of symbol and metaphor is both original and gripping, delving deep into the issues such devices raise. Stranded on a rock in the middle of the ocean, freezing and starving, the boys constantly question the value of symbolism, and so does the narrative itself: Is the garefowl tied to Murdina outside of Quill’s imagination? Does it matter whether she is or not? There’s also a subtle critique of capitalism woven throughout, which I always enjoy, as the working class characters’ perception of the man who owns their island (called simply the Owner) slowly morphs from godlike benefactor to “oh Christ, this dude left us all to die, he really does not care about us.”

The only reason I’m not giving this book a better rating is John. What to say about John? John is a girl who was raised as a boy by her mother (because her father wanted a son) and no one ever noticed even though it’s mentioned that she participates in literal pissing contests with the “other” boys. This, of course, makes no sense. What’s worse is that her gender isn’t treated with any sort of nuance. She outright states at one point that she considers herself a boy; this is ignored by both the other characters (sort of understandable, this is the eighteenth century, after all) and the narrative (way less understandable), both of which continue to call her a girl and marry her off to one of the other boys against her will. She is constantly sexually harassed, and this is mostly treated as a joke: She can defend herself, so it’s fine! She’s scrappy! Not like being stranded on an island with a dozen boys constantly trying to fondle her would add an extra layer of trauma to an already terrible experience! The boys take care of each other and it’s beautiful, sort of a working-class anti-Lord of the Flies in that even in that isolation and desperation breed compassion rather than violence amongst the characters. Except the way they treat John completely undermines this - even when they’re drying her off after she’s fallen into frozen water, they’re doing it not out of kindness but as an excuse to touch her body. Gross! The fact that their compassion only applies to other boys really sort of undermines the book’s themes. (It’s worth noting, too, that Quill himself treats another girl as an object that belongs to him - not physically, at least, but definitely mentally - and he’s rewarded for it in the end.)

I don’t know why John is even in this book; she’s not necessary to the story, and seems to exist only to raise questions that McCaughren apparently isn’t equipped to answer. This would be one of my favorite books of the year if it weren’t for her. But if you're willing to deal with some truly weird gender identity issues and out-of-left-field sexism, this is worth the read. It’s certainly unlike any book I’ve read before.

Final verdict: recommended (with some serious reservations)

#young adult #ya lit #book review #r

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kunalkarankapoor · 5 years ago

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The character study of Mohan Bhatnagar.

This is the sixth part of the character study of Mohan Bhatnagar.

14) Mohan and Rimjhim

Video Link: Mohan/Rimjhim Relationship Study

vimeo

And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.

Steinbeck in East of Eden

The reason that I loved Rimjhim for Mohan more than any other character on the show was because she saved him. And she did not even know it. Rimjhim was Mohan’s beacon, his hope. I saw her as a flame that burned steadily in the darkest spaces of Mohan’s life. For years, his mind had been shrouded in despair. He lived in a bottle. He wasted away in self-blame, in guilt. There was a part of him that constantly waited for Megha and Nanhi to call him home, to come and find him. No one but Guru was there for him, picking him up again and again — trying to keep him alive one more day.

Rimjhim gave Mohan a purpose. She became his redemption. Someone once mentioned in IF that Rimjhim was only created as a device to bring Mohan and Megha together again. Perhaps it was true. But the chemistry between Kunal and Reem was such that their relationship exploded through the boundaries of scripted scenes and dialogues and became something much more powerful. In my eyes, Rimjhim did not come into Mohan’s life to bring him closer to Megha. She came into his life to save him from himself, his self-destruction; to provide him with a single proof that, yes, he was worthy of of receiving happiness, of receiving unconditional love. Rimjhim was Mohan’s second chance at a life that he deserved.

How could one not love a girl who finally put Mohan at the top of her priority list? Not on a pedestal. Mohan did not have to be flawless for Rimjhim; he did not have to be a superhuman, either. All he had to do was be. It was enough. Because Rimjhim only wanted him. This was most evident in the scenes when Mohan did not come home on time and she waited hours for him, refusing to go to bed until he was home. I think that my emotional attachment to their relationship grew stronger because of it. When I was a child, I used to wait every night for my father to come home. I listened for his key in the keyhole, and I stood in the hallway, jumping in his arms as soon as he opened the door. He would tell my sister that it did not matter how tired he was — it all went away as soon as he caught me in his arms. Mohan’s exhaustion, his burden eased considerably when Rimjhim showered her love upon him. It was a reminder of the fact that he was loved, that he was a good father to her, a good man.

Mohan and Rimjhim had some of the sweetest and most hilarious moments. There was a scene where Mohan informed her that he had bought her a present. She tried to guess what it was and he basically told her not to strain her brain after which he asked Guru to bring the present to her. Kunal’s comical timing is impeccable, but on top of that he balances it so flawlessly that one cannot help but laugh at his dialogue delivery. When he told Rimjhim not to strain herself, it was funny because of how genuinely concerned he sounded, because of how one could hear that he was aware of Rimjhim not beeing the sharpest tool in the box, and because of how Rimjhim actually stopped thinking without catching onto his comment at all.

It was heartwarming to follow their interaction, especially when they would hug and tease each other. It was the simplest moments such as Mohan lying awake at night, worrying, and then turning on his side to find her awake, too. This was one moment that was beautiful in its simplicity and yet immeasurable depth as they teased each other, ending with her giving him a piece of advice and cuddling up next to him. It was also hilarious to watch Mohan become a nerve-wreck whenever he would be called to the principal’s office for a review of Rimjhim’s report card and it would horrify him to see that she was failing in some classes, or make him incredibly proud to see her succeeding in others.

I found it interesting how Mohan spoiled her. It was because of his love for her, indeed. But it also had an underlying tone of fear at times. It seemed to have something to do with the fact that Rimjhim fell sick so easily. It would have been quite interesting if the channel/writers had delved into the reason behind her sickness. Mohan pointed out that it happened when she became very upset. Thus it was evident that her sickness had psychological roots. I wondered if it was because she had a void in her that she tried to fill with Mohan and Guru — most probably a void that related to the absence of a mother. Perhaps the issue of her mother’s death was never dealt with in a way that she could cope with, e.g. she was never shown any pictures of her, never given any signs of her existence, and it might have made Rimjhim feel on the verge of non-existence herself — to the extent that she feared losing Mohan because he was the only person that she related herself to. That he was real, tangible, and her father might have made her feel that she belonged somewhere. In a way, he was the foundation that she had built her existence on.

Sometimes she would hug him so desperately, and cry, as if she was afraid that he might suddenly disappear, as if she wanted to crawl inside of him and hide from the feelings that she did not understand or know how to deal with. The void. The lack of something. It was Mohan who provided her with the solicitude as well as the solace that made her feel safe and loved. It was his presence that soothed her. Once again, this was not explored. Thus a lot of people only saw Rimjhim as a spoiled child rather than attempted to understand the reasoning behind her behaviour, why she reacted the way she did, or why she was so overprotected.

However, for someone who had always been so spoiled, she was an incredibly caring child that understood other people’s pain, sentiments, and could even empathise with them on a surprisingly perceptive level. The amount of love and care that she would give Mohan and Guru alone was a proof of how well they had done with her. Furthermore, it seemed that she had adopted Mohan’s personality traits — not only his running around, his sarcasm, but also his warmth, his empathy toward others, and most importantly — his good heart. Basically, she was a female mini-version of a young Mohan Bhatnagar. I did not see her as an image of Addu. Far from. If that was supposed to be the case, then she should have been shown as a bit manipulative and selfish in her actions. Not selfless in her love like Mohan.

Mohan and Rimjhim were not given much space to develop together. For instance, it was never shown how Guru came to Mohan with a child, how Mohan adopted Rimjhim, how he struggled with a baby (both on an emotional and practical level), or how he raised her. Furthermore, there were often moments post-Bhopal when Megha stepped into Mohan’s place, and which made it seem as if Mohan was neglecting Rimjhim, e.g. during the period of time when Rimjhim was being bullied at school and severely feeling the absence of her mother. They showed how Megha cared for her, how she made her lunch to share with everyone at school. But I would have found it more right if they had given that importance to Mohan as Rimjhim’s father. He was always aware of the tiniest details when it came to Rimjhim, calling Guru at least ten times a day to check up on her, calling Rimjhim just to talk to her. If she was being bullied, if she was having mother issues, then he would simply have been the first one to pick up on it and gone to extremes to make her problem disappear.

The issue of Megha overtaking did not only happen once in relation to the bullying, but also later on when Rimjhim fell sick and Megha came over to take care of her — almost as if Mohan and Guru did not know how to do it on their own. However, if anyone knew how to deal with Rimjhim’s fever phases, it was them, because they had done it for 8 years of her life. It rather seemed as if the point with Megha’s involvement was to emphasise her importance, which ended up undermining Mohan’s, making him seem as if he was an amateur father who did not know how to handle Rimjhim’s sickness when he was, in fact, the most competent person in her life to handle it because of his knowledge of her and his history with her.

Returning to the bullying issue, Rimjhim always confided in Mohan. She would have told him about school. Perhaps she would not have mentioned her mother issues to him in fear that mentioning her supposedly dead mother might sadden him, but then she would have told Guru and Guru would have gone straight to Mohan. In fact, Guru would have confronted Mohan, asking him where the hell have you been? Mohan, feeling guilty about how he had neglected Rimjhim due to his involvement with Project Talaash (and Megha/Nanhi/Addu), would have gone to his daughter and talked to her. He would have made it a point to follow her progress in school and planned that lunchbox for her to impress her classmates. That would have been in character for Mohan.

I also found it irritating that when they needed Rimjhim “out of the picture” for a while, they had her turn on him. Something that she would have never done if she had been in character, because Mohan — as mentioned above — was the entire foundation of her existence. When they showed that Rimjhim refused to speak to him after she found out that she was adopted, it frustrated me deeply. Rimjhim’s pain and sadness and fear was based on the fact that she did not want to loseMohan. Not that she was adopted. She saw Mohan as her father, and if she feared anything at all, it was that she would be taken from him. She would have clung to him tighter for that very reason, leading to Mohan saying the “you are mine” and “no one can take you from me”. Which he did. With incredible emotion.

The emotional bond between Mohan and Rimjhim ran deep. But because it was not delved into or provided with the needed space, the supplement of depth depended on the actors’ performances. 12 years into the past, Mohan had hit rock bottom, found Rimjhim, and slowly worked his way out of the darkness. He abandoned his profession as a crime reporter. Why? He became a social worker instead. How? And he found some kind of peace/contentment in his small world with Guru and Rimjhim, even if it was not perfect, or without guilt. Again, how? The journey was missing. It was only the actors’ performances that gave the sense of history and relationship development over the 12 years.

Furthermore, it was a blooper on the writers’ part that once Mohan returned to Indore, he neglected the children at his orphanage whom he had a personal relationship with. They were all his children. He knew them each by name and spent most of his time working with them. Even Rimjhim was a part of the large orphanage family and spent time with her father at his workplace. Knowing Mohan’s heart, his involvement with the orphanage, he would never have forgotten the children simply because he moved to another town. His sense of responsibility and his commitment and love toward people was much stronger than that. It was all-consuming, at times.

Kunal managed to convey the development in Mohan’s character through his performances. Both he and Reem were so authentic, so fierce that it seemed to convey the 8 years of father-daughter bondage in every single shot. It was in the details, really. It was in the way that Mohan would cuddle with her, braid her hair, speak to her (not always what he said, but rather the way he said it), be around her (his relaxed body language and complete confidence). Rimjhim was his. A powerful conviction that resulted in his confidence around her. Rimjhim did not judge him. Rimjhim did not shut him out when he made a mistake. She brooded and he charmed her in a relaxed way and she smiled again. He knew that for Rimjhim, he never came in second. There was no insecurity in Mohan around Rimjhim. He stepped into the role of her father without hesitation, without caution.

Perhaps Mohan did not fear making mistakes around Rimjhim because he knew that, like Guru, Rimjhim would always love him, always be there (e.g. when he simply left for Indore without saying goodbye to her, knowing that Rimjhim would not hold it against him, in the end). Honestly, Rimjhim’s love and adoration — it was what Mohan had always deserved and never received from the people that he loved.

15) Mohan and Beera

Mohan’s relationship to Beera was never explored. They had few scenes together in which their interaction was in focus. I thought that Kunal and Siddharth had awesome chemistry and that Beera could have become a very close friend to Mohan, i.e. if they had been given more space and time together. There was an instant connection from the moment that Mohan hugged him, following his emotional outburst post-leaving his Dadda behind. Perhaps Mohan saw himself in Beera; saw a younger self in him. (That intense confusion related to identity, principles, paths, and morals — finding your own way independent of the social heritage.)

It was obvious that Mohan understood Beera and wanted to support him on his journey because he had needed the same kind of support on his own. Thus he gave him a place to start, to build from — a job and a place to stay for a while. This awakened an utmost respect for Mohan in Beera’s eyes. My favourite scene with the two of them was when Beera found a drunken Mohan lying on the hood of his car because Nanhi had wounded him, and he could not stand the pain of it. It was interesting how Beera was the one to go looking for Mohan, not Nanhi — once again showing the impact that Mohan had on strangers’ lives and how everyone but the Vyas clan recognised Mohan’s nature, his heart.

There was one shot on the car when Mohan told Beera that he was a stepfather, not a stepboss. The way that he said it, finding his own joke funny, it was absolutely hilarious while at the same time being incredibly sad (since the situation itself was dire). But I loved how Beera stayed with him, how he listened to Mohan’s pain, how his respect for Mohan — despite seeing him in such a raw condition — only grew stronger. For Mohan, it must have been an humiliating situation to be carried home, drunk, by Beera. To be seen in this condition by his own daughter. But Beera never mentioned it again, which was considerate of him. He did not regard Mohan as any less worthy of his respect than before.

It was thought-provoking how one act of kindness from Mohan toward Beera had cemented Beera’s respect and care for Mohan. Yet countless sacrifices for Megha and her family had done nothing to cement theirs. Furthermore, Beera was always aware of Mohan’s condition throughout the conflict between Nanhi and her Spiderman. In fact, he was constantly defending Mohan or trying to make her see things from Mohan’s perspective, which was why I began to grow so fond of Beera. And which was the reason that I absolutely despised it when the channel/writers made him a villain. Beera, growing so close to Mohan and respecting him as much as he did, would have never gone against him in the future. Mohan had given him more in a short period of time than his Dadda had given him throughout his life. His loyalty to Mohan became a purpose in itself.

16) Mohan and God

What I found really interesting about Mohan throughout season one and two was his relationship (or lack of relationship) to God. There were times when it seemed as if Mohan carried a lot of resentment toward God. Why? Was it because of his circumstances with his parents and Rashmi, or did he simply not care to worship a superior power? How much did he actually believe in one? It seemed as if he respected the worshipping of God in the Vyas family, but personally he was not interested in having any kind of contact with God himself.

If it had not been for the times that Mohan kneeled before God (in desperation), I would not have thought that he even believed in God. His religious and/or ideological belief system was never explored. However, I assumed that he believed in some kind of divine existence since he had his moments of seeking a connection, e.g. when Megha was in the hospital and he prayed for her. Mohan was desperate enough to try anything. But perhaps there was also a part of him that sought comfort and faith because the situation was so hopeless, so out of his control.

I wondered if he maintained a distance on purpose and (if so) was it because he believed that he was being punished somehow? Something that Mohan continued to question was whether he was a bad person, e.g. in the scene after they discovered that Addu had died and he collapsed in Megha’s lap. Perhaps he resented God for making him a person that people abandoned, misunderstood? There was never much clarification in relation to Mohan and God when it could have been an interesting aspect of Mohan’s character to explore in depth.

Vasu, on the other hand, was a believer. When he prayed, there was always a concentrated expression on his face, an intensity in his eyes. Vasu was serious about it whereas Mohan was usually noncommittal. Something else that I found interesting about Vasu’s character in relation to the idea of God was how Vasu was worshipped in the chawl, e.g. there was one scene where he was asked to bless a child and name it to which he placed his hand on the child’s head. That was a really interesting scene and (again) an aspect of the character that was never explored. (Will return to Vasu in depth in his section later on in the study.)

#kunal karan kapoor #actor #artist #ana

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