#and your english reads really well too!!!

[stopharassingme]

The sex that the embryo will grow into later is determined at conception. That's what they mean. There is no problem with the wording.

It says the sex (at conception) which will later develop male or female features. Sex is determined at conception, male or female, based on DNA and what cell that DNA is already set to, at conception when the sperm and ovum get their thing on, later produce those cells.

Addendum: You're not parsing the sentence correctly. At conception the sex is defined. It says the sex that will later develop sexual features. Sex is still set at conception, male or female DNA strands.

“‘Female’ means a person belonging, at conception, to the sex that (later) produces the large reproductive cell,” reads the order, which was issued just hours after Trump took office on Monday. “‘Male’ means a person belonging, at conception, to the sex that (later) produces the small reproductive cell.”

That it reproduces the reproductive cell later is implied, the commas delineate it so that it isn't talking about something that produces the small reproductive cell at conception, it's referring only to the sex at conception, male or female, which is set to LATER develop those features. Sex features are determined at conception, confirmed by DNA, which determines which cell will later be produced, and this is all set at conception.

It's a bit confusing but not if you're well versed in logical operators, and this is really just about properly parsing the sentence. There's no association between it producing the reproductive cell and it being at the time of conception, because these pharases are delineated by commas.

In the text, the act of producing the cell is tied to the "sex", rather than being associated with the time of "conception" located in the first part of the language. But sex is determined at the time of conception, based on what cell will later be produced. It's a tricky sentence.

So it's truly a non story that will die out within a few weeks because it has no validity. It is an English language sentence that says exactly what it's supposed to.

So, if you grow up to produce the large reproductive cell you'll be classified as female sex and if you produce the small male. Anything else is in a grey area, but sex is defined as binary, male or female. For now.

As for hermaphrodites, they're not really covered. But whether that really matters is another story. It's as easy as putting an M on a license. Gender and sex are separate, so. But there's probably still room for a third gender, I think. It's just not that big a deal what your ID says. Gender is something you own, but sex is determined at conception. Even for hermaphrodites, although perhaps the Law should be amended to include them. He didn't include them because that would just muddle the issue right now since lefty nitwit nutbags keep trying to ruin everything with their radical nonsense that doesn't matter. So it would be stupid to muddy the waters again trying to make room for a rare third sex. If you want gender as a separate option on your ID that might be something to lobby for, but I'd lose the privileged attitude first. Me me me.

Now, sex and gender are differentiated. So you can lobby to have gender recognized too, but you're going to have to start from the ground up.

Now we won't have men beating up women in the ring because they're calling themselves women. At least that's what the conservatives have said.

Gender politics have done nothing but discriminate against the average person. It's time we stop discriminating based on sex. And it will be easier to do that when we're no longer confusing things with nonsense and quotas instead of letting things work out fairly for all.

And maybe stop spreading lies about women making less than men when women just work less and easier jobs. That'd be a START, thanks.

Plus I'll take ten million in back pay I should've made on the east coast if I had been born with a vag, because I'm in tech and the jobs were all handed out to the (dumb) females right out of college making $300000 while I make five times as less years later. So I quit. Enjoy your economy, Thanks a lot heroes.

Stupid is as stupid does, and it's your own fault the world is full of stupid people, haters.

Anyway, this is just legalese and it parses just fine. So stop making an issue out of something so dumb that isn't even true or valid, it's kind of embarrassing. Geniuses.

Toodles.

[Image ID: The Destiel confession meme edited so that Dean answers 'Trump has made everyone in the US female.' to Cas' 'I love you'. /End ID]

[sansaorgana]

— THE LUCKIEST MAN IN BOSTON

🚨 This fanfic is a repost from 15 May 2022 from my different blog. I kept the Author's Note and everything from the fic the same as it was back then.

PAIRING — Jack Nelson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Jack’s wife is pregnant with their second child while little Maggie is jealous and Gina acts rudely as always. Thankfully, their evening is not completely ruined.

AUTHOR’S NOTE [15 May 2022] — It’s basically a part two of “Welcome Home, Daddy” but can be read as a one-shot, too. I’ve told you back then that I love little Maggie Nelson and I’m gonna make it everybody’s problem 😝 This was my first time ever writing smut with a pregnant Reader so thanks to @violaobanion for encouraging me to treat it as a challenge lol Starts with fluff but ends with filth lmao

WARNINGS — pregnant Reader, soft dom Jack, oral sex

WORD COUNT — 3,260

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE LUCKIEST MAN IN BOSTON

Maggie was running around the living room with Laurence and a white little kitten she had gotten recently from her father as a gift. Her name was Lady and she had a pink ribbon tied around her neck like a real cat princess.

“Be careful, that’s not a toy!” you scolded them and sat down on the sofa next to Jack, caressing your bump that had just started to show recently.

Gina sipped on her wine and looked at you from the corner of her eye with lots of contempt and jealousy at the same time. Her dress was black as she was in mourning but you didn’t pity her. She didn’t look very sad and rumor had it she was already sleeping with other men.

You only pitied little Laurence that he would grow up without a father after Michael’s death. And of course you pitied Michael himself – he was always nice to you and to Maggie. But Michael was a name you’d rather not mention around Jack. He was still angry at Gina’s late husband for fucking up an important operation that caused him some trouble in Boston.

“So, Jack,” she started in that annoying voice of hers and looked at you both, “you must be hoping it’s gonna be a boy this time?”

“Well, would be nice but I’m not picky,” he shrugged his arms and you smirked at Gina. “That’s enough!” He pointed his finger at the children and they froze before looking at him. “Bring that poor cat over here, you’re maltreating her.”

“We’re just playing, daddy!” Maggie picked the kitten up and brought it to him.

“She’s tired, Maggie, don’t you see?” he asked in a much softer voice now.

You melted at the sight of a small kitten in his big hand. Lady yawned and Maggie giggled before sitting next to her father on the sofa and looking at him playing with her cat.

Laurence approached Gina and whined about something but she only rolled her eyes.

“Come here, darling,” you encouraged him to sit on your lap and he ran up to you with sparkles in his eyes before jumping on your legs and sitting on your lap. You fixed his dark blond hair and kissed the top of his head as he cuddled you.

“Be careful, Laurence, you don’t want to squeeze aunt (Y/N) too tight now,” Gina scolded him with sarcasm in her voice.

“It’s alright, he’s not squeezing me,” you decided to play dumb and ignored her irony.

“Daddy, she’s so small,” Maggie pressed her cheek to Jack’s arm and sighed while watching her kitten biting on her father’s fingers. “Can’t she stay that small forever?”

“I know what you mean, dollie,” Jack chuckled. “You used to be as small as her, you know?”

“No way!” Maggie’s eyes widened.

“Yes, yes, you were just as small. But you were in mommy’s belly back then just like your brother or sister is now,” Jack explained and Laurence looked down at your bump before pressing his little hand there.

“I can’t wait for the baby to come out, daddy,” Maggie batted her eyelashes.

“Oh, really?” Gina snorted suddenly and everyone looked at her.

“What do you mean, aunt Gina?” Maggie squealed.

“Once this baby is born, you will no longer be your parent’s favorite girl, don’t you know?” Gina explained with a smirk.

“That is not true…!” you tried to protest but Maggie burst into tears already.

“Margaret…” Jack tried to calm her down after giving Gina a dirty look.

“I don’t want them to be born then! I don’t!” your daughter cried and ran out of the room as your heart broke.

“Why did you say that?” Jack put the sleepy kitten on the empty seat next to him and confronted his niece.

“She should start getting used to that.”

“But it’s not true!” you gasped as Jack stood up to leave the living room and follow your daughter. Laurence started to fall asleep with his head in the crook of your neck as you were caressing his back in a soothing manner.

“Newborn babies require more attention than five year olds. It’s obvious you will spend more time with the new child,” Gina rolled her eyes and finished her glass of wine.

“Well, we were supposed to have a talk with her about that the other day but thank you very much,” you gritted your teeth. “We wanted to say it in a different way. I guess now we don’t have to at all.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now you’re being insolent,” you pointed out and she shrugged her arms. “Really, you’re being a bitch, Gina.”

She gasped and put the empty wine glass down before standing up and approaching you with extended hands.

“Give me my son back, (Y/N). You can’t use such language with him in the room.”

“It’s Aunt (Y/N) to you, sweetie,” you batted your eyelashes and handed her Laurence back carefully.

Gina let out a snort and took Laurence from you. That was when Jack came back inside while holding Maggie’s hand. Your daughter’s face was wet from tears and she was rubbing her left eye with her free hand.

“What’s happening?” your husband sensed the mood immediately.

“Oh, nothing, uncle Jack. Aunt (Y/N) is using bad language around Laurence, that’s all,” Gina pretended to sound sweet and took a few steps back.

“I don’t want to hear anything about it,” he shook his head while making a serious face. Jack had never liked you and Gina having fights. “Maggie, now be a good girl, dollie,” he looked down and Maggie nodded before running up to you and cuddling your waist before pressing her cheek to your bump.

“I’m sorry, mommy, I’m so sorry for what I’ve said!” she cried. “Baby, I’m sorry, too!” she nuzzled her face into your belly even further.

“Such a drama queen,” you chuckled and caressed her ruffled hair. “It’s okay, dollie, I’m accepting your apology.”

“And the baby?” she looked up with puppy eyes and sniffled.

“The baby, too. Now, what made you change your mind?”

“Daddy told me I made you sad,” she looked down, embarrassed.

“It doesn’t matter now, darling. And it’s late today, you should go to bed now. But tomorrow we’ll talk about the baby, okay?” you lifted her chin up gently. “We have to explain a few things.”

“About you not loving me anymore?” her lower lip trembled.

“Margaret, stop,” you scolded her. “We are never going to stop loving you, my little princess. Now, say goodnight to Aunt Gina and Laurence and go upstairs,” you pinched her cheek and she smiled.

“Goodnight, Aunt Gina. Goodnight, Laurence,” Maggie waved her hand at them. “Goodnight, mommy. Goodnight, daddy,” she kissed your cheeks and went upstairs with sleeping Lady and the maid already waiting for her by the door.

“I'm going home,” Gina said.

“You’re not staying over for the night?” Jack poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down on the couch next to you, putting his arm around you. “We can tell the maid to prepare the room for you and Laurence.”

“No. I have a meeting. Laurence will be put to sleep and I’m going out,” Gina explained.

“With who?” you asked and she clenched her jaw.

“With a friend,” she answered rudely.

“Gina, you’re a mourning woman,” Jack tried to explain carefully but she rolled her eyes and left to the hall. Your husband sighed and stood up to follow her there but you didn’t.

Instead, you went straight to your bedroom upstairs. Listening to them argue about reputation, good name of the family and such things would only stress you out and that was something you didn’t need at all.

Since you had already taken a bath before Gina’s arrival, you just took off your dress and put a nightgown on; noticing how difficult it was starting to get and how tight your nightwear was getting around your curves.

You sighed and approached the mirror to look at yourself from the side with your hands on your abdomen. You caressed the bump gently and smiled to yourself when the door opened.

Jack entered the bedroom and froze at the sight of you. He leaned on the wall with a smirk and started to watch you. You saw his dreamy gaze in the reflection of the mirror and you turned your head around.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“You know what, doll,” he chuckled and crossed his arms, still staring at you in awe.

“No, I don’t, Mr. Nelson. Care to enlighten me?” you asked teasingly and approached him slowly to put your arms around his neck. He immediately put his hands on your waist and proceeded to caress the sides of your bump.

“I think I might be the luckiest man in Boston,” he confessed in a surprisingly serious manner.

“Far from it,” you laughed softly.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “The luckiest man in the whole USA,” he fixed himself and leaned in to place a kiss on your lips. You kissed him back and turned around in his arms to lean your back on his chest as he wrapped his hands around your swollen stomach.

Jack pulled you even closer and started to place open mouth kisses on your jaw, neck and shoulders that sent shivers down your spine and caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“Oh, Jack…” you let out a moan and you could feel his lips on your skin curling into a smirk.

“Yes, my beautiful wife?” he slurred out.

“Don’t be a tease…” you sighed and his hands started to pull your nightgown up; the material so tightly wrapped around your body that you felt like it was about to rip open.

“Me? It’s you being a tease, (Y/N),” he whispered into your ear and put his right hand between your legs to pull your panties aside and caress you there as his left hand squeezed one of your breasts. You hissed out of pain.

“They’re sensitive, Jack,” you whined.

“Well, then, let me ease the tension, hm?” he smiled and you chuckled.

Jack led you to the bed and laid you down carefully before leaning over you. You cupped his face and smiled gently.

“And I am the luckiest woman in Boston,” you told him.

“Far from it,” he laughed.

“You’re right. The luckiest woman in the whole continent,” you winked at him and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“So beautiful, look at you, full of my baby,” he hummed as he looked down and began to untie your nightgown with one of his hands while the other kept caressing your belly.

The moment he set you free from the nightwear was when you spread your legs open, already aching with need. Pregnancy hormones were making you feel horny most of the time and Jack had known it perfectly well. He smirked at the sight.

“And so needy, am I right, my girl?” he asked and you bit your lower lip before nodding. “Shh, let me take care of that,” he tossed the nightgown aside and leaned in to connect your lips together in a heated kiss.

Jack put one of his knees between your legs to give you friction but his hands got busy with your breasts; massaging the sore flesh and making you moan into his mouth out of pain mixed with pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged on it to signalize when there was more pain than pleasure.

Your hips worked up and down while grinding on his knee and wetting your panties with your juices. He could feel you through his suit pants.

“Jack,” you breathed out and he furrowed his brow as you worked your fingers on his shirt quickly to take it off and throw it on the floor, “I need you, baby, I need to feel you in me, please, I need you…” you kept mumbling in a rush and he chuckled before stopping your hands by grabbing your wrists.

“Easy, doll, don’t be impatient,” he scolded you and you whined. “Let me take care of you properly, my Queen of Boston, hm?” he asked and you giggled at the silly but flattering nickname.

“As you wish, my King,” you nodded and threw your hands back on the silky, cool pillow, allowing Jack to take control over your body.

He got rid of his shirt first and threw it on the floor. His undershirt and pants followed before he proceeded with kissing you all over your face while caressing your sides.

Then he started to travel down; kissing your jaw and neck and then all the way between your breasts until he found himself placing soft kisses on your bump that made you chuckle softly.

“Hello, little peanut,” he whispered between the kisses, “it’s daddy here. Can you hear me?”

“I doubt,” you giggled and caressed Jack’s ruffled hair as he looked up. “They’re just too little yet, I think…” you explained softly. “But soon they will kick whenever you talk, just like Maggie did,” you reminded him.

“Well, daddy’s waiting then,” he kissed your bump one last time before going down and disappearing between your legs.

“Oh, fuck, Jack,” you moaned and arched your back when he wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep them apart and pressed his face to your wet entrance.

You kept your hand tangled in his hair, pushing him even closer. He didn’t protest; licking and kissing every spot before eventually sucking on your clit. You shivered and tried to close your thighs but his strong grip held them open.

“Fuck,” you breathed out and could feel him smirk as the knot in your abdoment started to form. “Baby, I’m gonna…” you hissed out and Jack nuzzled his face into your pussy even further, making you moan and whine. “Jack… I’m…” you went speechless after that and tugged on his hair as you came with a soft gasp but Jack didn’t stop. When you came out of your high and started to push him away was the time when he eventually let go with a smirk.

Jack sat up and ran his hands through his face and hair before you pulled him to lay down next to you to taste yourself on his lips. You put one of your legs over his waist to feel the hard cock through the material of his boxer shorts.

“Already hungry for more, doll?” he teased.

“Oh, that was just an aperitif,” you chuckled and he rolled his eyes playfully.

You went back to kissing him and caressing his cheeks as Jack adjusted your thigh on his hip and started playing with your pussy with his fingers. You trembled at first; still too sensitive, but soon enough his fingers circling your clit were making you feel dizzy out of pleasure again.

“Gotta stretch you out now, doll, so you can take my cock later,” Jack mumbled between the kisses and you nodded. He put two of his long fingers inside and curled them to hit all the sweet spots that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, you’re a sight,” he sighed and proceeded to place soft kisses all over your dazed face.

You squeezed on his bicep and pressed your forehead to his, circling your hips to get even more pleasure from his fingers inside of you as his thumb brushed your clit.

“Ja-Jack, I’m…” you stuttered.

“Already?” he raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“I’m s-sensitive now,” you moaned and he chuckled.

“Not yet, baby,” he took his hand away and you whined at that.

Jack continued with his soft kisses all over your face but in the meantime he laid you down on your back again and got rid of his boxer shorts. You spread your legs apart to welcome him between them.

“I think you should lay on your side,” he froze suddenly.

“Jack, come on…” you rolled your eyes.

“You’ve started showing,” he pointed out. “I don’t want to risk it. Lay on your side, doll, be a good girl,” he ordered and helped you to roll over gently.

Jack positioned himself behind you; his hard cock grinding against your ass as you leaned back to rest comfortably on his chest. He attached his lips to the crook of your neck and lifted your leg up carefully as you reached behind you to guide his cock into your wet entrance.

“God, it’s like heaven,” he mumbled into your neck as you arched your back to push him inside even deeper and let out a moan of pleasure.

Jack placed his hand on your belly to rub it gently as he continued with the gentle and slow but deep thrusts that were making you gasp and moan. As usual, he was trying to stop himself from being too loud but he eventually started to grunt right into your ear.

“You alright, baby?” he asked after a while to make sure and leaned in to look at your face from behind your shoulder.

“Yes,” you whispered and squeezed his hand on your belly, “please, don’t stop.”

Jack pressed himself even closer and began to place kisses up and down your cheeks, jaw and throat while his hips picked up the pace with his thrusts.

“I’m close, doll,” he muttered. “You gonna cum for me now?”

“Y-yes,” you nodded and threw your head back to kiss him. Jack moved his hand from your belly to grab your face and that was when you reached your high while letting out a loud moan muffled by the kiss.

A moment later you could feel his hips slow down as he spilled himself deep inside of you. He eventually stopped all the movement and laid down on the cool pillow while breathing heavily. You carefully put his cock out of your pussy with your hands and you turned around to face him while batting your eyelashes and caressing his torso.

“You okay, doll?” he asked as he looked down at your face placed on his chest. He put his arm around you and caressed your back gently.

“Yes, Jack, perfectly fine,” you chuckled and kissed his chest. “And you?”

“Heavenly, baby,” he laughed and patted your shoulder before sitting up and looking at the floor. “You want the nightgown back?”

“No,” you shrugged your arms. “It’s too tight anyway.”

“Looks like I gotta buy you a plenty of new ones… or not,” he smirked.

“Or not,” you hummed to yourself as your eyelids were getting heavy.

“But,” he added as he put the covers on your bodies, “I have to keep the baby warm, hm?” he laid back on the pillow next to you and placed a kiss on your forehead while his hands caressed your belly.

“Yes, daddy,” you yawned and closed your arms, “safe and warm.”

“Safe and warm,” he nodded before wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep with his chin on the top of your head.

MASTERLIST

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

get to know your moots

Thank you for the tags @ace-turned-confused, @beefrobeefcal, @sp00kymulderr --- what's the origin of your blog title?: Escaping reality one run-on sentence at a time. Easy. I use run-on sentences in the fiction I write to escape reality. 🫡

OTP(s) + shipname: Idk. Like, Gordon Brittas and Laura? So I guess like.. Laurdon? Arthur Morgan and Sadie Adler? Me and Pedro Pascal. Maldro, if you will.

favorite color: Orange. A very specific orange too. Tangerine Tease. Pantone #17-1349 Do I know that # by heart? Of course I do.

favorite game: The Sims, Red Dead Redemption 2, Assassins Creed Valhalla, the noises that Balatro makes when my husband plays it.

song stuck in your head: "Never Run Away" by Kurt Vile.

weirdest habit/trait?: Too much self reflection here. Maybe the way I say certain words? Breb, birb, chippies. Or like do I just mention I'm freakishly good at multiplication? People make fun of how high pitched my sneezes are. I also will run a mile to avoid a moth. (besides @mothandpidgeon)

hobbies: Writing, baseball, cooking, losing the PS5 media remote.

if you work, what's your profession?: I'll just paste my normal Mallory tagline. I sell toys for a living, that should tell you enough.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?: Probably like the secret girlfriend/wife of a 49 year old Chilean born actor. Or interior designer. Sometimes I dream of going back to school for it.

something you're good at: Tossing something in the air and catching it over and over. Losing the PS5 media remote.

something you're bad at: Not feeling overwhelmed by laundry. Not losing the PS5 media remote.

something you love: When I find the PS5 media remote quickly.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Baseball, my favorite music, Jimmy Stewart, Disney World.

something you hate: MOTHS (sans @mothandpidgeon), weird 70's fabric that's itchy, Freddy Krueger, the lack of Martian Manhunter in DC properties.

something you collect: Lapel pins, action figures, tchotchkes, cool picture frames, Joey Votto cards. I own four Disney Cuddleez (Wicket, Grogu, Figment, Donald) I think that's a lot for a woman in her 30's.

something you forget: To leave my car sunglasses in the car.

what's your love language?: My Scottish ass is definitely not answering physical touch. Acts of service and giving/receiving gifts.

favorite movie/show: 28 Days Later/Anything Smosh has done the past few years.

favorite food: Sandwiches. Your girl loves mayo.

favorite animal: Otters, birbs, quokkas, cats (though my husband is allergic to them), Schnauzers.

what were you like as a child?: So many of my toddler photos include me, mouth wide open, sans pants... lookin' like a terror. Though, my parents say I was very well behaved (until teenagedom) sooooo I guess wacky but within the rules allowed.

favorite subject at school?: English, history and art. I really loved earth science.

least favorite subject?: Math once algebra entered my life.

what's your best character trait?: Good question. I think I've very good at reading people and adjusting myself to help to improve their mood. I'm incredibly empathetic.

what's your worst character trait?: Impostor syndrome. Being incredibly empathetic.

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?:

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?: Groucho Marx and Marquis de Lafayette. I think they'd get along WONDERFULLY.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!): I think about The Road Not Taken by @guiltyasdave often. It's so gorgeous and haunts me in the best way possible.

No Pressure Tags: @ohheypedrito, @mothandpidgeon, @schnarfer, @devineconjuring, @secretelephanttattoo @sawymredfox, @almostfoxglove, @maggiemayhemnj, @yourcoolauntie, @yopossum @hellfire-state-of-mind, @justagalwhowrites, @thelightsandtheroses, @bitchesuntitled, @jennaispunk

[wayfayrr]

I absolutely adore your link self awake AU and cant stop thinking about reader having adhd and get distracted all the time.. that is a big mood for me

I got curious of how would the links react to reader if they boot up the game just to use them like a white noise for reader to sleep?(i do that alot),,,

Or with the rage quit one, but instead of reader just rage quitting and turn off the game completely, they just go non verbal, lay and took a power nap(maybe if i take this nap im miraculously better kinda way) and doesnt turn the game off either

Im sorry if my grammar is bad awuu,, English is not my first language,, and i wanna tell you agaon that i really love your writing!!!

You think that wouldn't be their most favourite thing? not only are you letting them stay while you're at your most vulnerable but you're giving them more time to try and find a way out - and to get out without causing you as much panic. if it's something that you do often then there is a very high chance that one morning you'll wake up with a link laying on top of you with the proudest look on his face, he did such a good job didn't he? Won't you simply give him some praise for it?

and if you stepping back from the game like that doesn't just give them the final push to do something about their situation :3c

*tap tap tap* "[name]? [name], I'm going to get out now if that's okay." They're really asleep then, well. No point in wasting the chance I have is there? who knows when I'll get another one. "Okay just, gotta get through this barrier, it's solid so if I just" Focus so that you can move how the 'camera' to above you then just. Ascend should work, it's never failed me before. And then I'm through, I - it worked. it worked and I'm finally out? "ouch- should've thought about the landing..."

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

You know what, I'm fucking done arguing with a brick wall.

Hon you can just concede, agree to disagree, and be done with it, you don't have to pretend like I'm a "brick wall" who hasn't been making well-wrought points to refute yours. I took the time to respond very exhaustively to you, point-by-point — give me a fucking break, lmao

Send my apologies to your English literature teachers for having to put up with you.

I mean several of them are dead (it's been quite a long while since I was in school), so I'm gonna stop you right there. All I'll say is: people who are really truly into literature on a professional level, such as my mentors, or myself, have a strong appreciation for deep engagement with a text. What you think of as a "brick wall" (debate, exegesis, and fondness for overlooked details), my English lit teachers held in high regard. We had a hell of a lot of fun dissecting material together. It's fine that you don't enjoy this kind of thing, but don't pretend that it's somehow a slight against you, or that my points aren't worth seeing.

Let me leave you with one thought though, honey. If this is just "reading from the text" then presumably you think Winnie and Stephen agree with your delusions?

Winnie and Stephen pretty transparently wrote Fiyero to be the Early 2000s Slightly Rebellious Male Heartthrob For the Girls to Fight Over and not much else. He's been improved greatly in the film adaptation by NOT being that, and as I've said many times, I would love if they've ended up canonizing the double agent idea in the second film; albeit, as I've explained, I think that he'd lose something if he were made too straightforwardly "good". It doesn't matter whether Winnie, Stephen, or any of the directors or actors that have interpreted Fiyero over the years, specifically "agree" with me. Theatre of all mediums lends itself especially to a panoply of readings. There is no set-in-stone "canon". I just find certain takes to be ignorant of the details of the text, and I've argued against those takes. I happened, in the process, to do analysis which spawned further discourse. But it isn't like my analysis is Word of God: it's just fun to discuss ultima facie instead of prima facie. Your reading may well be closer to prima facie in certain ways — but that's not somehow an argument in and of itself for being "correct". You and I both made our arguments and apparently mine are now left to stand as ultima facie, as you have run out of counters.

Seems awfully cruel of them to go out of their way to save Elphaba from dying at the end of the story to leave her with an oh so awful fascist soldier?

The fact you seem to believe I think of Fiyero as "oh so awful" just tells me you haven't been engaging seriously with anything I've said.

He's a fascist soldier. That is something that should be reckoned with and examined in any real analysis of his character. He isn't "awful" — I never claimed he was, far from it — and he is certainly not the first or last character to have the narrative gloss over more troubling details and implications about what was written for them. But don't come at me for pointing those details and implications out, just because you personally dislike them, lol. I'm not the one who came up with Fiyero volunteering to become a fascist soldier: take that up with Holzman, lol

Also, if Elphaba was happy to fuck Fiyero in the woods and later leave with him, she clearly thought what he did was justified given the circumstance.

Hon, it's not that deep, lmao. They boned because they're passionate people with unresolved sexual tension suddenly given an opportunity — the only opportunity — to resolve it. Elphaba was not weighing his past several years for their moral soundness whilst riding him, lmfao

And I think the biggest Animal rights activist probably knows better than either of us the about the situation :)

Perhaps she does, perhaps she doesn't. We can only speculate. All we know is that she was frightened of him, and was worried he'd bought into the propaganda against her — which is a fair concern, given how he spent those years. She's relieved to find that he hasn't succumb to the hate against her, and that he isn't trying to harm her, and... that's really all that's stated, and that's all that need be stated. It's probably the first time in years that a human hasn't been her enemy — I don't think she wants to go there and review his choices, for her own sake, and I don't blame her for that one bit. But just because she doesn't go there doesn't mean that we shouldn't. We aren't bound to the POV of any singular character: we get to study them from beyond the fourth wall as much as we want, and there's a TON of interesting stuff there.

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[lxvi-gloria]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[daincrediblegg]

personally I think the best thing that the joker sequel did for me was expose the exact degree to which how much of internet/public criticism is not based on genuine analysis of the content using social and cultural resources to support an actual argument but is actually adult children whining because someone took their batman toys and put them up on a high shelf for once and they, as a consumer, feel like they're entitled to throw a tantrum about it

[sciderman]

howard the duck (1976) #10

[arrimorr]

WHATS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP? GO

If I have to choose one I will go with the Beast and Enoch from Over the garden wall 😭 they have zero interactions (outside of that one scene of the Beast's lantern ending up in Pottsfield in the epilogue) but I will go down with this one. Oh the eldritch romance stuck in between autumn and winter...

[sege-h]

Like some kinda shark fin a now unrebloggable post on my dash has let me know whats going on on Twitter right now

Which is people going "UMMM NOT EVERYONE LIVES IN AMERICA OFC I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE ODYSSEY IS NOT ALL OF US HAD TO READ YOUR AMERICAN BOOK IN AMERICAN SCHOOLS" about being told it kinda sucks they dont know what the Odyssey is

Brother

Brother

I'm from Macedonia. That's like NOWHERE. WE had to read the Odyssey for school. And I knew of it BEFORE we had to read it for school because it was common knowledge. There was also some multi part Hallmark adaptation of it they kept playing on TV

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

hang on are cougars like panthers

[bmpmp3]

the epic highs and lows of trying to read an ongoing shounen manga

[deathsmallcaps]

Replying to tags but then I ran out of room and I think i was if not cooking then at least microwaving

#dude when I was in 6th grade I read #the veldt #and at the time it disgusted and genuinely scared me because I was #just so surprised that people - children! - could be raised to be so heartless #idk if I read it for the first time as a 23 year old it would scare me so much #but goddamn

#I think we're both people who are *at least* good at literacy but we're both a little too STEMmy #to look at it the way some English teachers want us to? #like they want people to go from 'damn that's fucked up → what themes are the authors trying to explore here → what about the world #made them think of that and perhaps what are they trying to get us to consider and think about and perhaps change' #obviously not all writing is a fable with a moral at the end #but a lot of good writing has some sort of central belief that it wants the reader to consider

#(I struggle in creating that with my fiction ugh and I think a lot of booktok books do too and it bugs me that we have that connection)

#but anyway #I think you and I'd first reactions are like #’that's horrible → how can we prevent that specific problem from occurring again' #like take the lottery. my (and maybe your?) first reaction is like 'that's horrible → they should ban the lottery' #but the English teacher is going to want us to think 'oh gee okay so this is a commentary on traditions. why would this tradition be started #/necessary? does the lottery reflect the overall morals and sensibilities of the overall society (aka fond of the death penalty etc). #what sort of tradition might this mirror today? connecting to historical events and the fact that the person stoned and the author were #women. aka the gender commonly stoned for witchcraft in New England #do you think that's related?' etc etc etc wrapped in metaphors and shit. and tbh that's how I learned a lot of my religious and political #philosophy as well as history. I really like Thomas swift's 'a modest proposal' (satire) for that reason.

but that was NOT my initial #thought process for English class. I had to be heavily trained into thinking that way and often my first instinct is to not engage with the #metaphor an just go straight to the logic/sensible answer. blah blah blah. I really respect lit and history teachers as a profession but boy #do I not want to teach it because I would be so slack on writing the kinds of questions that would get the kids to engage with the meta. #once I got a piece I got it but it was a struggle every damn time. because I had to get over my feelings of well why didn't they just not #do that'

the biggest one I can think of is 'song of Solomon' by Toni Morrison. I think my senior AP English teacher wanted us to really #consider authors and characters of color (he was white but it was 2018-2019 aka Trump era) so he taught us othello and TM. othello is a #little easier to understand because iago is just being a little bitch about a Black foreigner getting a promotion and a hot wife and no longer being able to convince himself that he was better than Othello

But TM’s main character Milkman? Unlikeable, spoiled little shit who doesn’t give a damn that he’s the 1 percent of his marginalized community and he’s frittering his privileges away so hard that it literally induces suicidal and murderous tendencies into the people around him. Among other things.

It took me foreverrrrrr to engage with the text beyond GOD I HATE THIS GUY but once I was able to examine his psychology and the mean flip side of ‘if you want to fly, you have to get rid of earthly attachments’, which he does at the end of the story.

Was it a chore? Absolutely. But have I ever forgotten the story or the literary tools it gave me? No.

Maybe I’m just speaking for myself in this longass response - you and I usually talk animals and men not books 😅 - but yeah every English class is full of these annoying stories that are meant to rattle one’s brain and I REALLY avoid rattling lmao. Tbqh again I respect lot classes but I’m glad they’re over lmao

But anyways I listened to Levar Burton’s podcast ‘Levar Burton Reads’ from start to finish, and he once read (as a three parter) Toni Morrison’s Recitatif. It’s the story of two girls, one Black one white, who grew up around and with and against each other during the mid 1900s.

I didn’t know what the story was getting at, aside from the surface ideas of the American Civil Rights Movement and privilege and stuff. But LB usually asked questions or briefly mentioned the author’s main idea at the end. And when he did? HOLY FUCK.

If you ever decide to listen to it (I’ve never gotten my hands to a print copy so idk if they usually have some sort of author’s note at the end to ask the reader this question)(I love LB’s voice he’s a pleasure to listen to if you listen to Recitatif) please @ me and tell me if it also blew your mind and made you consider how you viewed the POV character of the story.

Because it blew my mind and made me really consider why I assumed things about the pov character. Im not going to say anything further because I feel like I’m spoiling the point but yeah.

Anyways again this could be just me but I’ve always had trouble moving on from the straight solution mindset. When I was 12 I was in a model UN and I was told to write a report about Togo and its healthcare issues. I took this to mean that I had to research the common issues there (such as unclean water and mosquito bite diseases) and then come up with solutions.

It was incredibly embarrassing to do all that and then hear every other group explain their countries healthcare issues and WHY (historically, monetarily, etc) their countries struggled with such things. And my ass went up there and talked about affordable mosquito deterrent changes to water sources and cheap water cleaning services.

I didn’t realize it then but like. It perfectly exemplified my lack of instinct to subtextually interact with instructions and prompts.

And the thing is. May the universe bless and boost the fucking lit teachers out there because my poor students are entering math class with lit skills 6 grades under where they should be and are genuinely unable to interact with straightforward STEM instructions. My college had every ed major take a ‘teaching literacy’ class and sure I passed but the thing is. I’m not really the person that’s supposed to catch these kids on that subject. I’m supposed to be a secondary math teacher. So a lot of the advice in that class simply wasn’t applicable and I wish it was!!! I’d be happy to help in that subject but also I WAS TRAINED TO BE A MATH TEACHER. AND MOST LITERACY AND LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY COURSES ARE NOT DESIGNED WITH STEM IN MIND. (Which is why I want to learn enough Spanish that I can teach kids learning English math as well because that’s an area that doesn’t get a lot of crossover and a lot of kids fall through).

Well this turned into a ramble goodnight lmao. I’d say this was a decently microwaved thought track lol

[sansaorgana]

— WELCOME HOME, DADDY

🚨 This fanfic is a repost from 22 Apr 2022 from my different blog. I kept the Author's Note and everything from the fic the same as it was back then.

PAIRING — Jack Nelson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Little Maggie Nelson can’t wait for her daddy to come back home from his business London trip.

AUTHOR’S NOTE [22 Apr 2022] — Maggie Nelson is absolutely made up by me and she absolutely lives in my head rent free, I have like 100 headcanons with her at this point and I’m going to make it everybody else’s problem! Here's a smutty one-shot that can be treated as Part Two!

WORD COUNT — 2,160

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

WELCOME HOME, DADDY

It was no secret that Jack wanted a boy. When you were pregnant, he was often patting your belly and smirking while commenting on the fact that it had been his son growing there. He seemed to be so fixated on the idea of having a male heir that you started to believe it would be a boy as well – you didn’t even want to imagine not having a son.

When you were giving birth, Jack was in another room, drinking whiskey nervously in an old-fashioned manner while your screams and groans filled the whole house. And then you pushed the baby out and one more voice joined your cries. You sighed with relief when…

“Go tell Mr. Nelson that he’s got a daughter,” the Doctor told the midwife. She nodded and left the room.

You were petrified. He handed you a crying baby still covered in blood and put her on your chest. You looked down with widened eyes and swallowed thickly. She was beautiful – she was your baby girl and you already knew you would die to protect her but… But the sound of Jack’s footsteps made you flinch.

He stormed inside the room rapidly as his eyes immediately found yours. It was difficult to read his facial expression but he was even paler than usual.

“I-I-I’m so sorry, Jack,” you sobbed, instinctively pressing the baby closer to your chest and staining your nightgown even further with blood.

But he looked like he wasn’t even listening to you. Instead, he approached the bed and leaned over your shoulder to take a look at his crying daughter.

“Aw, baby, don’t you cry, daddy’s gotcha,” he cooed to her and his big hands reached out for her. You let him do that, watching him carefully. His steel eyes were set on the newborn girl, though, and on her only. He was mesmerized, didn’t even care about getting his suit dirty.

And she stopped crying the moment she was set in his arms. The midwife approached him to show him how to hold her properly and he adjusted his hands without looking away even for a second.

“Jack, the next one will be a boy,” you whispered.

“Look at you, so beautiful,” he ignored you and cooed to the baby. “My little Princess. Daddy will give you a world, I promise, my little lady.”

You shut your mouth and sighed. That was the day when you lost your husband but you weren't even mad about it.

For now, there wasn’t any other yet, there was still only her – four years old Margaret but everyone called her Maggie. Little Maggie Nelson was a sensation all over Boston and anywhere she’d go, really.

Spoiled but sweet, in her neat dresses and pretty bows in her hair, she looked like a real-life doll. Jack was not the type who would spend all his days at home but whenever he was there, she would occupy his lap. She was so charming that all his business partners adored her and Jack was of course taking advantage of it.

But he hadn’t taken you two to London. He had gone there to buy import licenses but also to do a job for President Roosevelt himself. A job you had no idea of but you didn’t really want to know either. You stayed in Boston with Maggie and waited for your husband’s return, hoping he wouldn’t catch anything contagious while fucking all the whores in London.

That was the way Jack had been but you loved him nevertheless. And you knew that he had loved you, too. When you’re married to a man like Jack, there are some things you just have to accept.

“Mrs. Nelson,” the maid walked inside the living room where you had been laying on the sofa and reading a magazine.

“Yes?” you didn’t even look up.

“It’s about Miss Nelson… She’s throwing a tantrum over the color of the bow in her hair,” she sighed and you chuckled before putting the magazine down and standing up.

“She’s just excited. Jack comes back today,” you reminded the maid with a smile.

“She doesn’t know which color Mr. Nelson would like the most.”

“Oh, silly little Maggie,” you shook your head and went upstairs to her room.

Maggie was sitting on the edge of her bed, her little legs dangling above the floor cutely. Her arms were crossed and she was pouting.

“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie…” you started with a chuckle while leaning on the doorway and she huffed. “Don’t you know, my little dollie, that daddy would love every color on you?”

“And what are you wearing for daddy’s return, mommy?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, to be honest…” you admitted and looked down at the dress you were wearing. “Just it, I think.”

“But daddy’s coming back home today!” Maggie gasped. “You have to dress up for him real nice!”

“Alright then, I will,” you smiled kindly and approached the wardrobe to take out the box with all her ribbons. “I’ll wear a blue one, okay?” you handed her a blue ribbon.

“No, not that one,” she shook her head.

“Pink?” you handed her another.

“You’ll wear a pink dress for daddy?”

“Well, if I have to,” you chuckled. “Pink is a pretty color and before you were born I used to wear it more often.”

“Why not anymore?” Maggie asked out of curiosity as the maid approached you to take the pink ribbon out of your hand.

“Because it’s your color now, Maggie.”

“Oh, mommy, I can share!” she gasped and you chuckled before leaning in to peck her cheek.

“Alright, dollie, we will share.”

You left her alone with the maid again and went to your own bedroom to change the dress as you had promised.

Jack was back right before dinner. You were waiting in the hall, squeezing your little girl’s hand. For her those two weeks were like two years and when she heard the sound of Jack’s car parking on the driveway, she ran out of the house.

“Maggie, be careful!” you rushed after her.

She was running and jumping at the same time to be faster, which had been a terrible idea to do while going down the stairs. Thankfully, her daddy’s arms saved her from a spectacular fall.

“Easy, Princess, daddy’s gotcha,” Jack chuckled and you sighed with relief.

“Daddy! Daddy! I missed you! I missed you so much!” she screamed and literally jumped into his arms. Jack laughed at that and put his arms around her.

“Welcome home, Jack,” you greeted him more nonchalantly than your daughter and you leaned in for a kiss. The corners of your mouths touched while giving each other a peck on the cheek.

“My girls all in pink today?” he teased with a grin.

“Oh, daddy, it’s for you!” Maggie cupped his face and started kissing it all over.

“Maggie, that’s enough, daddy’s tired,” you sighed and tried to take her from him but she protested.

“It’s fine,” he nodded and went inside the house. A butler nodded at him and took his car keys to park the car and take the bags out of the trunk. You followed your husband and a daughter.

“The dinner will be served soon,” you told Jack and put your hand on his arm after he had placed Maggie on the floor.

“Good, I’m starving,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek once again. “I bought you lots of pretty things in London,” he whispered into your ear and you chuckled. Then he looked down on Maggie. “Daddy bought you lots of things, too, Princess.”

“Oh, daddy, you didn’t have to!” her eyes widened.

“So… I can send them back to London then?” he teased.

“I didn’t say that!” she huffed and crossed her arms. Jack laughed.

“Of course I won’t, dollie. Now, what have I missed?” He put his hands into his pockets.

“I was writing you letters every day, daddy!” Maggie made puppy eyes. “Mommy said that sending them would be a waste because it’s been only two weeks and you wouldn’t get some of them. But I will give them to you now!” She decided and went upstairs.

“She can write now?” Jack scratched the back of his head.

“She’s slowly learning how to. I was the hand,” you chuckled and led him to the living room. “How was the business?”

“Good. I got licenses, “ he nodded and sat down on the sofa in a lazy manner.

“And… And the job for The President?” you lowered your voice nervously.

“It’s done, don’t you worry, doll. Told you not to worry about anything.”

“I’m sorry… I… I seem to worry even more now…” you sighed and sat down next to him.

“That’s bad. You don’t have to worry at all anymore, (Y/N),” he put his arm around you and kissed your temple. “You hear me? Worrying days are over for you, baby.”

“Yes, Jack, I understand,” you nodded. “Did Gina have fun?” you rolled your eyes. You didn’t like his niece much.

“Gina’s always having fun,” he chuckled. “She was all over the society. Upper class, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Next time I’ll take you with me,” he caressed your cheek and you hugged him tight. “You’ll show them bastards some class.”

“Me? Class?!” you laughed.

“Baby, once you’ll meet their ladies, you’ll understand that you’re a real class indeed.”

“Jack, you’re being too sweet! Makes me want to eat you up!” you teased.

“You gotta wait for the evening with that, doll.”

“Daddy!” Maggie ran inside the living room with a small box in her hand. You smiled at the sight and moved away to let her sit on her father’s lap.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“My letters!” she reminded him.

“Ah, yes,” he nodded and opened the box. There were 14 pastel pink envelopes, all tied with a red thread.

“They’re all addressed to you! Mommy helped me with that,” Maggie added and grabbed Jack’s pinky finger to play with his ring.

“Should I read them all now?” Jack tried to sound enthusiastic.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nelson,” the maid walked in with a smile, “I’m about to serve dinner.”

“Excellent!” you stood up and moved the magazine away to put the box down on the table. “Maggie, we will read the letters to daddy after dinner. He’s hungry after the trip and he must eat.”

“Alright then,” she sighed and left Jack’s lap to hold your hand. “But after we read letters, we will also show daddy the new song I have learnt, okay?”

“Of course,” you nodded and caressed her head. She ran out of the living room to follow the maid.

You smiled to yourself and turned around but then you froze at the sight of Jack. He suddenly had a very serious expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“What is this?” he handed you a familiar card and you swallowed thickly. “It was laying on the carpet. Fell out of your magazine.”

“It’s a card… With a doctor’s name,” you approached him to take the card from him.

“I don’t know this doctor,” he pointed out and squinted his eyes at the printed name once again. “What’s going on?”

“Jack, I just wanted a new doctor, that’s it.”

“What did you need one for?” He kept being suspicious.

“I needed a checkup,” you sighed and then you hung your head. “Fuck, you ruined it.”

“Ruined what?”

“A surprise. I wanted to tell you when we’d be alone in the evening… I’m pregnant,” you muttered and put the card back into the magazine. It was your bookmark.

“Wait, you’re… You really are?” Jack’s eyes sparkled and you looked up to meet his gaze. You nodded.

“Got my blood test’s results over the phone two days ago. I am,” you nodded.

“Does Maggie know?”

“For God’s sake, of course she doesn’t! She’d tell you straight away!” you chuckled. “But… I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, doll?” Jack furrowed his brow and approached you to put his hands around your waist.

“That she’s gonna be jealous. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah, I know what she’s like. She’s just like her mommy,” Jack teased. “Adorable, beautiful, smart and very fucking jealous,” he leaned in to kiss you but once again you got interrupted by the irritated voice of your daughter.

“Are you two coming or not?!”

“We’re coming,” you chuckled and turned around to face her. “The faster we eat, the faster we get our presents, am I right, Maggie?”

“Oh, mommy, unbelievable!” she exclaimed. “You’re sooooo spoiled! Daddy, you should do something about it!”

MASTERLIST

[neverendingford]

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[joshuamj]

can college just like, pause for a moment. I wanna catch up on linktober :(