#but I wish I saw more positive posts spreading love in the community rather than exclusively negative stuff like I’ve been seeing rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neonnoir-ao3 · 4 years ago

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Some Words of Comfort.

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people (especially those who have read spoilers/are actively searching for leaked content) lament about their future reactions to the deaths of our beloved characters in-game.

We all knew this was inevitable, and that them living was not an option for the plot of the game, but the time has finally come to face it head-on.

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I understand that someone outside this community might be like “it’s just a game”, but I know it’s way more than that to many: the concept of a female villain that, to many, can be seen as sympathizable and even endearing, is a bit of a new concept— especially on such a large scale as this instance.

In addition, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have become a bit of a comfort item for some (with an emphasis on sapphics/wlw, from what I’ve seen personally) in the form of a large, protective, and caring hypothetical partner, or even just a maternal character one can appreciate simply because of her love for her children. Regardless, most of us are here due to some desire for comfort.

Take my own story with this community, for example:

(tws for death, covid, suicide, and general medical emergencies)

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Frankly, 2020 and the beginning of 2021 have ruined me. I lost two men who were the only two positive father figures I’ve ever had. The last of the two tested positive for covid and deteriorated within days, to the point where less than a week after testing positive, my family was making the choice to pull the plug. This all occurred days before Christmas and my birthday. On the first day of the spring semester, having not had the time to properly mourn my grandfather, my mother is in the ER for multiple days with an internal infection that doctors said likely would have turned septic if she had waited to come in any longer. This led to three surgeries throughout the next few months. (Oh, and one of my relatives quite literally dropped dead on that first day of class, too). I am also estranged from one of my parents, and they have been trying to contact my family: they have multiple untreated mental illnesses (severe NPD, bipolar, and more) and they are extremely aggressive in that state of mind and they are agitated extremely easily. That only brings more stress, along with resurfacing trauma and related emotions. Every moment of every day has been a struggle. So much so that I failed half of my classes voluntarily simply because I couldn't do them anymore.

To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t expect to be here right now. I expected that the pain of simply moving forward would have finally overridden my fears of death and that I would have already ended my suffering by now.

Then, in late January, I saw something trending on Twitter. About a new female villain in an upcoming horror game. And it went from there.

As cheesy as it sounds, this fandom and its content seriously saved my life. In the darkest of days, I’ve come to this tag for comfort. The oddest way I found said comfort was through those who were attracted to Alcina aesthetically. I have extremely long-term trauma related to being bullied and being the victim of a hybrid catfishing/'Oreo Game' on early social media by peers in middle school to the point where I do not think of myself as being able to be loved, let alone being worthy of it. Finding this community not only provided a great form of escapism (and opened a door into a fantasy world where I could imagine my own person vampire milf gf), but also gained a little bit of self-esteem (as many of you know, I share a lot of visual qualities with Alcina. -yes, I'm still kinda freaked out about it-) via seeing people where features/attributes like mine were actively praised and desired rather than insulted and pushed away like they have been until now.

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(okay sorry that kinda turned into a trauma dump but I needed to emphasize the fact that this community has seriously helped me during a really dark point in my life, and I know I can't be the only one with that sort of experience)

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What I’m trying to get across here is that, like many others, this community and its content have been comforting and therapeutic, and it really is more than just a game to us. It’s entertaining and even a form of escapism in these extremely trying times. We all have some degree of PTSD from surviving a literal mass plague— and this is something we're using as a method of coping. a distraction. a coping mechanism.

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With that being said, here are some ways to hopefully assist in lessening the emotional stress:

(please note that I am not a mental health professional and these may not be healthy coping mechanisms for everyone.)

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Understand that it’s just a game.

I know, this sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s more or less about keeping your level of immersion down. Personally, I can’t do scary shit in general: I have to listen to music on low volume while watching dark ARG vids at night or when I’m alone because I get too into it, and then my paranoia kicks in. Sometimes just pausing for a moment and grounding yourself/reminding yourself that this is a video game: a jumble of code and 3D rendering that doesn’t have to affect your views/headcanons if you don’t want it to. Did your favorite character just get slaughtered? Nope, that 3D rendering of them just got un-alived, that’s all.

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Ignorance is Bliss/We are the Captain Now

Simple: Capcom can’t even pronounce Dimitrescu right, or even acknowledge the way it’s correctly said in Romanian culture itself. How can you trust them to give you a perfect canon? That’s the thing: with that logic, you can’t. What they say is true means little (if anything, for that matter) to your headcanons and preexisting ideas of the Dimitrescus. In short: fuck ‘em.

I’m currently seeking a double major in pop culture, and one of the cool things I’ve learned so far is affirmational vs transformational fandom. Affirmational is where official canon is seen as the law of the land, and followed to a T. Transformational is seen as much more inviting for audiences, allowing them to bend canon as they wish to fit their own creations. This fandom is obviously transformational, so take that game canon, rip it up, and get back to whatever you were doing.

Capcom’s canon is not the end-all, be-all. Far from it, actually.

Want to still acknowledge canon? Godmod your way out of it.

Character A died? It’d be a shame if they emerged from the rubble they 'died in' a few hours later, very beaten but alive nonetheless... how awful would it be if they sulked away, nursed their wounds, and continued to live... (/s)

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Ignore it completely.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there w be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the in any way. Stay with the version in your head that makes you happy.

Get Creative!

If you're into creating fanart, writing fics, or even just posting a list of headcanons, take some advice from the late Carrie Fisher: "Take your broken heart, and make it into art". Make the fluff oneshot of your dreams! Draw the fanart you've been wanting to! dump lighthearted headcanons into the tags! Not only will it cheer you up, but sharing it with the community will spread the love!

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I know a lot of people are struggling with this emotionally (especially with the pandemic making entertainment like this even more important sources of escapism and coping mechanisms) and I hope that, at the very least, I was able to help comfort one person who reads this.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there will be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the flowers that bloom after major wildfires: after a period of loss, some beautiful can still come of it.

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💙

#tall vampire lady #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #castle dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters #dimitrescu family #dimitrescu sisters #cassandra dimitrescu #countess dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #resident evil #re: village #resident evil village #resident evil: village

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lantsovsupremacist · 3 years ago

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tiberias (cal) calore vii: illicit affairs

i’m only on the 3rd book so a) pls don’t spoil you’ll break my heart and b) my perception of the characters has only been developed to this point so if you come for me do it with the correct context lmao!!!

you knew what it was.

leaning your forehead against the cool metal post of your bed frame, a shaky exhale escaped from your lips. you wished just like that lost breath, you too could leave behind your body and with it, mind. a few minutes was all you needed, really; some semblance of relief.

even with your door shut tight with a deadbolt, the danger contaminating the palace lingered outside of it. you were not foolish enough to deny the cracks it could slip through. you would give any adversary a worthy fight, though. you could not afford not to, especially now.

for the first time in your life, you had truly encountered a problem that you could not use your abilities to maneuver out of. as much as your lungs screamed and your legs ached to run, you could not. being a swift, your first instinct was always to run. your speed always gave you the advantage in pursuit.

a familiar knock at the door broke you from your trance of pity. you stood up, sniffling as you ran the back of your hand across your nose and mouth. the action of clearing your throat sounded more like a whimper, but you managed as you gathered your skirts and headed for the door. you pushed down the nausea and wrung your hands to settle yourself.

your fingers shook on the deadlock before you pried the door open. the amount of weight on the wood, the length of the echo, and the momentary pause before the second, lighter knock gave away the identity of the person on the other side. you were in his arms before you could take another breath.

despite offering you the comfort you had craved all morning, his touch triggered the sobs caged in your chest. perhaps, it was because your heart was only safe in his hands. but, without the key to let them out, they messily tore through and paved their own path.

a year ago, your greatest worry would be the shame brought to your family on account of conceiving a child out of wedlock, let alone to the crowned prince. now, it seemed the impending war took precedence. you could have laughed; a red threatened your livelihood. a girl, really.

you were always careful, and it did not even happen very often. both you and the prince were very busy people, after all. send offs and reunions.

“we can fix this,” cal murmured into your hair.

“no, you don’t get it,” you broke out with a defiant shake of your head, “there’s nothing to fix.”

he pulled back, stroking your hair and pushing it behind your ears. your golden strategist was at a loss. your heart fell further into the pit of your stomach. you chewed on the inside of your lip, desperate to look anywhere but his eyes. yet, in the space of the same moment, you never wanted your gaze to leave his.

“i won’t leave you,” his warm hands ran up your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, “and i won’t let my father have a say in any of it.”

“it’s not the king i am frightened of,” you admitted with a sour taste in your mouth.

cal nodded with a grimace, “then i’ll be sure she is controlled until the end of the month.”

but who could control the queen who could twist minds? you chewed on the thought to avoid choking on it, forcing it down in distaste. both cal and yourself needed time neither of you had the privilege to claim.

cal communicated the importance of waiting until the traditional queenstrial to propose publicly. while the larger part of you agreed with this position, a small piece of your heart reserved for crippling doubt and senseless paranoia wondered if he was stalling for a different reason. if you could at any time expect desertion, it would be now but true to his word, cal had done no such thing—a loyal soldier until the end.

“and if they don’t chose me?” the secret fear you had harbored far before you had even become aware of your current condition felt a traitor to expose to the boy who had given you everything, kept every promise he could.

he studied your face carefully to ensure he held your full attention (though he was foolish to ever think otherwise), “make them, my dear.”

despite the event’s purpose of selecting a bride for the princes themselves, all of the noble houses knew the eldest had little choice in the matter. while your relationship with cal was not overt due to the inherently illicit nature of the affair, servants were known to talk. even in your deepest frustrations, you could not necessarily blame them.

his confidence in you was endearing but what other choice did you truly have?

you pulled away from his arms and lingering stare, wrapping your arms around your middle. pacing the length of the room, you suppressed a bitter laugh, “and then what? when a baby is born after less than eight months? and that’s to say we can persuade your father to rush a royal marriage.”

“let them talk,” his fingers twitched at his sides and you caught the scent of smoke, “nobody will be able to do anything.”

he thought he could protect from anything. sure, there would be little opportunity for any political action after a marriage was solidified but rumors would swirl. born into the pressures of eyes always watching you, they did not cut deep, but a queen needed a reputation demanding of respect. you did not want to be cruel but you decided that if need be, you could.

you wanted so terribly not to cry but willing it away only drew your focus to it more. you did not think the act made you weak but you would rather avoid the complete exhaustion it often caused. you were already so tired. but, some things were inevitable.

cal caught on before you did, “baby,” his voice was croaky, maybe laced his emotion of his own, “please don’t cry.”

you giggled at the irony. it was watery and your voice was nearly gone but it was there. confusion spread across cal’s features. you studied his face as he began to understand. a slow, crooked smile spread across his freckles and indicated the transition.

“suppose i could have chosen better words.”

“mhm.”

you had not noticed he was slowly rocking you in his arms. calm rushed into your senses. cal radiated your favorite kind of warmth. he monitored his body temperature around you, never too hot but always comfortable. it reminded you of home. he was your home. he smelled of pine and dying embers.

now nearing nineteen, you met the prince at fourteen. your elder sister married sooner than your parents expected, hastening your introduction into political meetings as a representative of the swift house of nornus.

who could blame a young and inexperienced teenage girl for falling in with a powerful, older boy who dared throw her an extra glance. what began as a benefit to palace life at fifteen soon turned into a vice. it was easy to tell yourself that you could stop any time you desired but you were addicted to the way he touched you, the way he tasted, the way he spoke your name.

for a while, you were foolish enough to believe he maybe even loved you. when you turned sixteen, you understood you were a pastime for the prince. so when at seventeen he told you he loved you, you did not believe him. he was gone for service quite a bit and your training schedule stole away any time for secret meetings when he was home. you began to purposefully avoid him but the withdrawal from the high that was cal left you dizzy.

when he did not make a move to find you, you tried even harder to move on. you had both made a mess of your hearts, left bleeding and shattered on the floors of the palace. you watched him escape the palace more often, always finding another place to be. one night, however, you followed him. you told yourself it was curiosity that caused you to slip out of your covers and into a warm coat, a coat you would not have needed if you left with him.

you caught up easily with your inhuman perception and speed and yet, he still saw you coming. he always did. that night, you wandered through a village and blended in. that night, you could be normal. he helped you clean up the mess between the two of you and things were different but the same again. they were better. you still took the long way to his room and pulled him into hidden corridors but the longing stares across meetings reignited.

you cleared your throat, “when you returned from delphie.” you tone held the pace of a simple comment, not the answer to the unspoken question pressing down on both of your minds.

cal turned his lips into his mouth and nodded, taking a deep breath, “i remember.”

it was a good memory, a good time. slow and gentle and loving. rane had worn you ragged sparring evangeline from sun up to sun down. you enjoyed the younger classes attending for the exposition but your muscles felt like weights lodged into your body and your breath had not yet fully returned after running circles around evangeline.

usually when one of you returned from an excursion outside of the palace, you wasted little time in attaching to every piece of each other. but, you were both exhausted—exhausted but greedy for the attention of the other. it had been a month ago, nearly to the day.

you and cal never discussed the prospect of children. even if one of you did not favor the idea, there was no choice in the matter. cal, as a future king, needed heirs, and if you wanted to be queen, you would have to bear them. but, you did want them and secretly, you knew cal did, too. it was more than a superficial requirement.

cal always looked at you, found you in a crowd, so it was hard to study him in secret. when he was with children, however, all attention transferred to those at his feet. it was then you saw him fully relax, the weight of his crown falling off his back. he loved them. you loved him more for it.

“and i don’t regret it,” he continued, dipping his head to place it gently on your shoulder. he kissed you neck once, twice, and then dropped his head back down.

#red queen series #red queen #cal calore #tiberias vii #tiberias calore #mare barrow #maven calore #cal x reader #kings cage #glass sword

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ruby-whistler · 3 years ago

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(quicksandblock) hi! I just left you a giant wall-of-text response on your Dream post, and though I think it came across well enough, I just want to state my lack of hostile intent over here as well lol. I know stuff like this that people feel strongly about can get very tense so I just wanted to make doubly certain you know I'm not trying to pick a fight or anything. it kind of sucks that I feel like I need to clarify that but that's fandom culture for you sometimes :P

also, I would love to talk to you about Dream characterization. I think I disagree with you on a lot of different points and I love his character, so I'm very interested in understanding your perspective!

hey, hello! found a c!dream enthusiast/enjoyer, that’s cool, hi! :]

[copied part i put in front of each reply, hence different capitalization]

Alright, so first as a quick disclaimer, I’m going to put a summary of the original post’s points, just to ensure that we’re on the same page;

The post does say:

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because it continuously hurts people who relate to and/or sympathize with him, also dehumanization in general is an inherently wrong mindset

- don’t attack people who sympathize with him because he’s a victim of abuse besides other things

The post never says:

- you cannot hate c!Dream and not sympathizing with him is wrong

- the things c!Dream has done are to any degree excused

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because he’s a good person

- people who dehumanize c!Dream are real life abuse apologists

If you read the post and didn’t get these points from it, i advise you to reread it as I made pretty much all of these abundantly clear.

[end of disclaimer]

i never said anyone could infringe on his human rights! i… literally never said that! i said “they ignore” when characters do it, but that was a run-on sentence, i get how that might’ve been easily misunderstood. but yes, he’s a fictional character, i’d never said people could actually hurt him or anything in that sense.

the thing is, i still find them saying they enjoy it… wrong? the people yelling in tommy’s chat for c!dream to hurt him more were freaking victim blaming pricks, and if what they did was the widespread fandom opinion it would be hurting actual people with trauma. i ask people to look at the c!dream situation with the same severity, because it’s actually happening and it’s highly disturbing, not just from principle, but because of what it leads to within the community.

sorry for comparing his situation to c!tommy, but narratively i believe the prison arc is a deliberate parallel to exile, and comparing his situation to someone they’ve not dehumanized seems to be the only way to knock sense into some people.

i am happy you don’t seem to be one of the people who dehumanize him. you’re not the target audience of this post - neither are abuse victims who project onto him. i know people who c!tommy reminds of their abuser (because of personality traits), or even c!quackity, that’s fine. they’re totally free to hate their respective character, of course, without being,, actually right about them. that being said, majority of this fandom is dehumanizing c!dream and being mad at people sympathizing with him “on behalf of the abuse victims”, not actual victims themselves, and by doing this they are unknowingly hurting other people rather than helping anything, and spreading misinformation as well as making a lot of fans in general uncomfortable. i believe this is something that needs to change in the community.

hating him is fine, but group-based dehumanization in my mind is not. if you go on twitter and search “c!dream” and see 100 people saying they wish the abuse victim you project onto is hurt more (this is not a twitter thing, c!dream tag is the same thing, a majority of the crit is untagged but it,, doesn’t really matter because even tagged hate riles up more people) that freaking sucks and is something that the community needs to work on, not shoved under the rug and pretend it wasn’t there because some people tag it.

“the abuse victims who are hurt by people saying they should be sympathetic towards Dream are in fact just as hurt as the abuse victims who relate to Dream and are hurt by people saying his evil.”

this is not wrong. it’s right actually, but i’m not talking about this fandom calling him evil/unable to be sympathized with/irredeemable. i mean, that’s hurtful dehumanization as well, but this community doesn’t “say he’s evil” it “says he deserves to keep being horribly abused and/or die”.

and… i wasn’t talking about/saying abuse victims should sympathize with him either? i’ve said like five times that people can hate him as much as they want, but dehumanization is another thing. it’s the majority of this community (this post wasn’t targeting abuse victims in the slightest) taking away his positive human qualities, hence believing he doesn’t deserve human rights, and turning him into some sort of punching bag or personification of evil, which i find deeply disturbing since he’s being related to by abuse victims, and also blatantly incorrect to the character.

so, you’d be right, if the situation was what you described. it… really isn’t. the dream smp fanbase isn’t populated by abuse victims in any corner. it’s two small groups, one of them hurt (undeservingly) by a few and the other one hurt (no more or less undeservingly) by a majority of the fandom without anyone batting an eye.

and this post isn’t even about abuse victims in the first place; it’s about dehumanization. while its impact plays a big role in why i wrote this, things like these being widespread in the fandom makes so many people uncomfortable or pressured not to sympathize with a recently made sympathetic character that they might (but could not) relate to. relating to him myself, i might not have a say in this, but my compassion in general made me switch over to the c!dream sympathetic people, not anyone in the community or projection.

the results i relayed here weren’t the only results of the survery. people mentioned pandora’s vault as their reasons for being dream apologists,, over and over and over again. a lot of them mentioned the fandom response specifically.

it’s making the fandom not only unsafe to a small group of traumatized people, but also fans in general, who are equally as important to feel comfortable. hell, the reason dream apologists are such a tight-knit community that accepts little to no outside feedback is because of the hatred that is endlessly nurtured outside, that makes people feel anxious or not safe just for sympathizing with a victim of abuse.

i myself find this a problem that people should attempt to change beyond using crit tags more. feel free to not agree with that, but a lot of affected people do.

i agree the disc finale was actually cathartic! well, that’s a lie, i used to hate c!dream’s guts before that but that was the very instance where i saw a person behind the mask and went “oh, this is a whole mess isn’t it”, but it was,, cathartic to a lot of other people that didn’t use to have intense empathy to inanimate objects as children djskdjsk (i was a weird kid and still am, don’t mind that)

do you know what is cathartic? when a dog terribly bites a child, gets kicked away and gets put in a cage. do you know what isn’t cathartic? …that dog getting repeatedly beaten, starved and abused while trapped in said cage. even in fiction, and i say that as someone who was terribly bitten by a dog.

i don’t mind fictional characters suffering - frick, angst is my jam, i’ll write a character dying over and over again and have fun, but people justify that or make fun of people who don’t by saying openly that they enjoy it,, because he’s done bad things.

here comes the double standard. the exile arc wasn’t cathartic just because tommy burnt down a house, because hell, that wasn’t fair retribution. same goes for dream.

there is a difference between enjoying dark media (something i do frequently and is something i like doing) and open dehumanization and often normalized harassment of people who don’t do the same or condemn that. that is something that in my mind shouldn’t be a mainstream thing in the community.

to be fair, people saying an abuse victim no longer being hurt is “bad writing” or “insensitive” as i’ve seen people say would probably piss me off, but i’m,, not going to harass them. maybe a passive-aggressive vague-post if enough big accounts do it, but i think that’s justified. feel free to disagree - i still respect abuse victims who wouldn’t like that, but people who just don’t want the writers to humanize a character they’ve dehumanized will probably grind my gears.

this community,, isn’t working like this. i wrote this because people are repeatedly being hurt by the community or feel bad in it because of widespread opinions and dehumanization of a character that is as of late written to be sympathetic to the audience. that’s not a disagreement, the people who are actually sympathetic are a minority in the fandom, which would be fine with me, if they weren’t constantly invalidated, triggered and harassed as a direct result of the dehumanization discussed in this post.

besides the fact that the principle of dehumanization applied to c!dream is wrong - and if people find themselves doing that, it’s good for them to find a way to realize that, such as this post, because projection =/= dehumanization, and this post is targeting one, not the other - this is why i wrote this post. i still believe my points are valid and important for this fandom to consider.

you know, we could talk about the characterization right now - but after this i’m going onto a two month long hiatus for the sole purpose of studying the character. i’m not joking, this is what i’m dedicating my summer to. since i’m also closing my asks because of this, i can write this down and @ you when i’m done? :D i’d love to talk about him but i’m going to have so much more evidence after this, so maybe we can put this off for a while if you don’t mind! of course feel free to continue the dehumanization debate in a string of reblogs since it’s pretty much a different debate entirely.

( @zrenia @caketexturepack just tagging some people who responded to your response and might be interested in the continuation of the debate - also curious anon i saw your two asks i was just busy djsjdks please don’t spam about people who replied to me, i have a bad memory but i write this stuff down, actually )

#my asks #discourse #tw dehumanization #tw abuse #tw torture #tw animal abuse #long post

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winryofresembool · 4 years ago

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Caleo one-shot: Back in Waystation

Warning: Tower of Nero spoilers! Do not read past this point if you don’t want to know anything that happens in the book!

Summary: Calypso returns from the band camp and she and Leo finally sort some things out (Post ToN).

A/N: Here’s the 'fix it' fic I promised. Like I said in one of the author's notes of TWLitF, I feel like Rick did these two very dirty in ToA, especially in the end when he left things so open ended. It would have been better for both characters if he had made them, you know, deal with their issues. I know this fic ended up being very sappy but it was something I myself would have liked to read so... I hope you guys enjoy it too.

Also, since this fic has taken a lot of my writing time for the past 2ish weeks, I'm not going to post a new chapter for TWLitF tomorrow. But worry not because I am hoping to post normally again next Thursday! Stay tuned!

Don't forget to let me know what you think of this fic!

Words: 4100+

genre: fluff, slight hurt/comfort (you know, the usual)

warnings: none

AO3

...

It was already late August. The weather had started getting slightly cooler in Indianapolis and people were getting prepared to go back to work and school after the summer vacation. Even Leo was preparing for the start of the new high school year; he had finished his community service teaching the homeless kids shop skills a week before and gone to buy some supplies for the school year. Now all that was left to do was waiting.

If the young demigod was totally honest to himself, he was getting a bit antsy. His girlfriend had been gone for pretty much the whole summer, counseling at a band camp and not telling him when exactly she would be back. If ever. Leo was worried that she’d meet someone way cooler than him at the camp and just leave some message that he shouldn’t be expecting her to return.

Before she had left, things had been complicated between them; they had been arguing quite a lot and Leo hadn’t exactly been his usual self after returning from his trip to California. He had found out about the death of his best friend Jason and accompanied the heartbroken Piper to her new home before flying back to Waystation where the information about Jason had fully sunk in. Unlike Leo himself, Jason would never be back.

Calypso had never known the son of Jupiter and she didn’t know how strongly his death had affected those who had known him. That’s why Leo felt like he couldn’t show his mourning to her and for a few weeks after his return he had been pretty withdrawn. Instead of going back to school with Calypso he had been tinkering in Jo’s workshop until Jo had dragged him out of there and forced him to take care of himself, to eat, to shower and so on. She had also been the one to suggest the community service for Leo, and after considering it he had finally decided it could be a good idea. Having something to do that forced Leo to leave the house had a positive impact on him and even though he still missed Jason, he also knew that Jason would be mad if he didn’t try to move forward, so he did. That led to Leo’s current issue, Calypso. He wished he would have had an opportunity to talk with her properly before she had left��.

Loud clanking pulled Leo back from his thoughts. He was in the workshop again, this time with Jo and Georgie, trying to fix a part of Festus’ wing that had broken when one of Leo’s homeless pupils had accidentally thrown something at it, not knowing Festus was there. Jo was instructing Georgie with something that looked way too dangerous in the hands of a 7-year-old but Leo knew from experience that since she was a demigod (suspected to be Apollo’s daughter), she would have to learn to fight sooner rather than later. Waystation may have been a safe haven for demigods but Georgina wouldn’t be able to hide from the monsters forever.

Leo was going to ask Jo’s opinion on how to make the wing part more durable when the workshop door opened. Expecting it to be just Emmie who would tell them the dinner was ready, he didn’t even turn to look at the newcomer. But soon he felt weird tingling on his skin that had absolutely nothing to do with Emmie as he smelled the very familiar cinnamon scent and realized that the steps were lighter than the older woman’s.

“Hi,” he heard a soft voice say and he finally turned around to see his girlfriend standing right behind him. She was smiling at him, although slightly awkwardly, probably as unsure about their situation as he was. A hundred different emotions rushed through Leo as he took her in; happiness, nervousness, uncertainty… and how had he forgotten she was so damn pretty? When he didn’t say anything for a moment, she tilted her head slightly, looking at him expectantly. Finally the gears started moving again in Leo’s head and he spread his arms, leaping into a hug.

“You late, Sunshine,” he mumbled against her shoulder as he tightened his arms around her. Calypso recognized the reference to what she herself had said back on Ogygia and couldn’t stop her smile from widening a bit as she responded to Leo’s hug. He probably would have kissed her on the mouth too but Jo and Georgina’s presence made Leo a bit self conscious about showing affection and he ended up kissing her cheek instead. “Missed ya,” he whispered after that.

Eventually the couple pulled away from the hug. Calypso greeted the other two people in the room and turned her attention back to Leo again.

“So, I’m Sunshine now again? No more Mamacita?” Her tone was suspicious but Leo could tell that she was actually happy about the change.

“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Reyna had quite a talk with me about how ladies should be addressed and apparently Mamacita isn’t an appropriate way to do that,” he said sheepishly.

Calypso cocked her eyebrow a bit at that piece of information. Even though she hadn’t met Reyna personally because she had left for her band camp before Reyna and the other hunters of Artemis had visited Waystation, she did remember hearing the name before. “Reyna? Isn’t she that girl who you saw in that vision back on Ogygia? The one with dark hair and…”

“Yes, that’s her,” Leo said cautiously. “She’s a Hunter now so she and her group visit here pretty often.” Before Calypso had time to say anything to that, he added: “She’s acting like a sister figure towards me and she’s scolded me a lot for… well, a lot of things.” He decided to not reveal that a lot of their talks had revolved around Calypso.

Calypso’s expression softened at his comment. “I’m glad someone has been keeping you in check while I was gone. Maybe I should let her do that more often.”

Worry flashed briefly in Leo’s eyes because he thought she was implying that she would be leaving Waystation so she decided to calm him down. “Relax, Repair Boy. I didn’t mean it that way. I wanted to stay here with you and that hasn’t changed. Besides, high school is pretty great, you know? I want to get through that. But, um… I’ve been thinking. About what was going on between us before I left.”

“Oh? Yeah, me too,” Leo replied, combing his messy hair with his hand.

Suddenly they remembered that there were two extra pairs of ears in the room listening to them, ending the conversation there.

“Ahem,” Jo cleared her throat, understanding the situation all too well. “Leo, how about you take Calypso’s bag into her room? I can see the wing meanwhile. I promise Festus will be better than new soon.” “Sure, I can do that, mom,” Leo said with slight reservation in his voice.

Calypso gave Jo a thankful look, exchanging a couple of words with her and Georgina before pulling Leo out of the workshop.

The two occupied the room Calypso used to sleep in before the band camp. Leo didn’t hang out there that often, but he was reminded of one particular time earlier that spring when he had been there. That night Calypso had had some nightmares and she had found out Leo was awake as well. They had stayed up talking for a long while in Calypso’s room until falling asleep next to each other. Even though they had been fully clothed when Emmie had come to wake Calypso up for some morning gardening (Leo felt like bursting into flames even at the thought of having done something that involved taking their clothes off. It wasn’t that he had never thought of it - he was a 17-year-old boy who was very much in love with his girlfriend after all - but he didn’t think they were quite there yet. And he highly doubted that Calypso would appreciate him even requesting that), the mother hens of Waystation had still pulled them apart and had some very embarrassing talks with them. Comparing it to the time when Percy and Annabeth had fallen asleep at the stables of Argo II, Leo felt like those two had gotten off easy.

“So… How was the camp?” Leo started awkwardly after setting Calypso’s bag down in her room, snapping out of his memories.

“It was good,” Calypso said simply, sitting down on her couch, Leo following her. “I am impressed by how talented these kids with no special powers can be.”

“Don’t underestimate the regular mortals,” Leo noted. “In my homeless kid group there were a few that were really good at the shop skills even though I’m pretty certain they couldn’t see Festus.”

“What do you mean with that?” Calypso asked. Before she had left for her camp, she had heard about Leo’s plans for the community service, but what she didn’t know was that Leo had used Festus as the place to teach the kids. Leo explained the situation to her.

“But isn’t that kind of risky?” she wanted to know then. “I mean, I know he’s your friend, and all, but what if he had accidentally started blowing fire at them or something?”

“C’mon, of course I had safety precautions for that,” Leo protested. “I may be an idiot but I do know my way around mechanical dragons.”

“Right. Of course.” Calypso said. Before their break she might have started a debate about Leo’s safety precautions but given the circumstances she decided that it would be better to not question it. A silence fell between the two as both wondered how to approach the topics they really wanted to talk about.

“So how have you been doing, really?” they asked almost simultaneously.

“Um, you go first,” Leo said, attempting to be polite.

“Like I said, I did enjoy the camp,” Calypso answered, getting a dreamy look on her face. “It’s… still so fascinating to me to see how the regular mortals – I guess I’m one of them now – live, having no idea what’s going on behind their backs… And I learned a lot of things about modern music that Apollo didn’t teach me. I know how to play the guitar now! But…” she hesitated a bit. “What about you?”

Leo got a strong feeling that she was actually going to say something else after that ‘but’. Her face told him that she was debating in her mind about something. Maybe she was even going to say she had missed him? But instead of asking about that, he answered Calypso's question.

“Decent, I guess, all things considered… Who would have thought that I enjoy teaching? But I guess it helped me that I could relate to those kids’ situations… and it’s kept me distracted from what happened with Jason…” He was looking down at his hands, hoping it would manage to keep him calm enough.

“Yeah…” Calypso seemed to be thinking about something for a while. Eventually she asked: “Hey, would you like to tell me more about him? I mean, what was he like?”

Leo was surprised by the request but he did what he was told to do.

“Jason… He always put the others’ happiness before his own. On the day we met, Piper was about to fall in a canyon but he jumped after her without knowing that he could fly. Crazy, I know, but that’s the kind of guy he was” He noticed that even though it hurt, he was now able to smile at the memory.

“I don’t remember if I’ve told this to you but Hera had messed with his memory; he didn’t remember almost anything about his past, but I think he took it all like a boss. If I had been in his boots I would have probably punched her in the face. Jason also accepted me as his friend even though…” Leo’s lip started trembling but he bit it and managed to continue: “Even though I had never had real friends before Piper and Jason and didn’t really know how to act around other people. That’s why the jokes. He was probably everything I wished I was - strong, smart, etc. - but never made a big deal out of it. He was so humble. After what happened with Dirt Face he probably thought he’d get to live a normal life and be a regular high school student, but...

“The Triumvirate…” Calypso said for him, having heard that part of the story before.

“Yeah,” Leo nodded sadly. “From what I’ve heard, Jason knew he would have to die in order to let Piper and the others survive and Apollo to succeed in his mission. He wasn’t like me, though. I hadn’t really accepted death when I decided to sacrifice myself against Potty Sludge so I used the Physician’s Cure. Jason, though… he had accepted his fate and he died knowing that Apollo would make things right. I’ve heard from Apollo that his last wishes were that no minor god would be forgotten again, and that Apollo would remember what it was like to be a human even after he becomes a god again. And to me it seems Apollo is holding to that promise. I know things won’t probably ever be perfect for us, but… if even one god is on our side… I feel like some things might improve at least for the next generation of demigods and… Jason didn’t die in vain.” He sighed, fiddling with his hands like always when he was dealing with difficult topics.

“So you think that Jason was the reason why Apollo was able to change?” Calypso asked.

“No, probably not the only reason, but… a reason nevertheless.” Leo said absentmindedly.

“Jason and you were willing to die for your cases. Sometimes I wonder… if giving up my immortality was the right choice, but hearing these stories makes me feel more peace with it. Life is short when you are a mortal and that’s why we should live it the fullest every day… and that’s why…” Calypso leaned towards Leo until their lips touched. It was a short and gentle kiss but it made Leo flustered and worried he might accidentally burn something.

“W-what was that for?” he stuttered when they broke apart.

“Stupid. You thought I found some hot clarinet guys from the camp and forgot about you?”

“You still… love me?” Leo asked in return. Even though he technically knew it (how else would he have gotten out of Ogygia in the first place?), it wasn’t something Calypso said aloud often and especially after the events of the past couple of months Leo had had a lot of doubt in his mind. Hearing it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt a smile spread on his face automatically.

“We may argue sometimes and you may be kind of insufferable when you’re in that mood but after taking some time to think I recognize that I am at fault too for the issues we’ve had and I am willing to admit that. Sometimes I’ve blamed you for things that were not your fault and I’m sorry about that. Besides, I see that you have learned a thing or two while I was gone. Not calling me Mamacita is a good start. So, yes, Leo Valdez. Se filo.

Even though Leo hadn’t spent a lot of time learning Ancient Greek at Camp Half-Blood, he still knew what Calypso’s line meant. His heart suddenly feeling full, he had to admit that the line felt more powerful when said in your first language. But there was a language even more near and dear to him than Spanish; one that his mother had taught him when he had been very young, one that he had repeated countless and countless times when missing her. During their flight from Ogygia back to the States he had taught a certain rhythm to Calypso so she knew the meaning too. When he started tapping against the back of her hand, a small sniffle came out of Calypso’s mouth.

“You haven’t done that in a long while,” she said quietly, her voice slightly cracked. “Gods, I feel I’ve been pretty selfish lately… All this time I have been thinking about my own struggles and have forgotten you have your own… yet your feelings towards me haven’t changed… You know, Apollo was right to get mad at me that one time.”

“What?” Leo asked, not understanding what Calypso was talking about.

“When we were on our way to that zoo…” she referred to the time when they had just arrived at Waystation. “Oh, never mind. What matters is that I see more clearly now. I’m not sure if I’m much better than those men who left me in Ogygia.”

“Of course you are!” Leo exclaimed. “You were stuck there for thousands of years! I… can’t even imagine… being forced to fall in love that many times and having to watch all of them go… I would have gone nuts. Thinking about it, I find it crazy that you didn’t just throw me out of your island. You deserved something better.”

“Leo…” Calypso said, turning his face towards her gently. “I think the fact that you weren’t exactly the type of hero that I was hoping for back then was the reason why things ended up going differently with you. I did not fall for you because of the curse. I fell for you despite that. And… after spending so much time together without having any time off from each other, I… started taking things for granted and forgot to be grateful. I owe you a lot. But I want to make it clear that that’s not why I want to be with you. I want to be with you for you. Sarcasm and bad puns included. And that’s what I remembered while I was gone.”

“Hey, Cal…” Leo removed Calypso’s hand from his jaw and took it into his. “I think we’ve both been faulty for these issues. The others here have made me realize that I haven’t exactly been the best boyfriend material either. I don’t talk about my issues. I make jokes at moments when I shouldn’t and probably make you think I don’t take our relationship seriously. Like that one time when I compared it to machines. I… I think I can see now why that annoyed you but that’s just how I roll. A machine geek and a clown. Those will probably always be a part of who I am so I’m not gonna promise that I’m just gonna magically change. But what I can promise is that I will try to make you see that I do take this seriously. Because I do.”

Calypso gave him a small, genuine smile and squeezed Leo’s hand slightly.

“I believe you. And… maybe we’re just one of those couples who enjoy bickering. What’s a life without challenge?”

Leo chuckled at that. “Wouldn’t have said it better myself, Sunshine.”

“I haven’t given my permission for the nickname ‘Sunshine’…” Calypso gave Leo a pointed look, which however quickly melted into a mischievous smile. “But we’ll see about that. More seriously speaking, though… I should try to keep my temper in check more as well. That doesn’t mean that I won’t call you out, though, when you deserve it.” She nudged him playfully.

“That’s fair enough,” Leo admitted too, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Yeah… Listen,” Calypso said suddenly. “In case you still doubt my commitment… I have something to show you.”

She went to her desk and took some papers out of the drawer.

“Here. Something I found on Ogygia after you left. Thought you might want to see it again.”

Leo took a closer look at the drawings and his mouth opened in surprise.

“You… these…” he said, dumbfounded.

“I just made Leo Valdez quiet? Miracles do happen.” Calypso teased but then turned her focus on the papers as well. It was a blueprint of a garage building Leo had drawn while stuck on Ogygia with Calypso. Besides Leo’s own workshop, there was a space for Calypso to do her work as well. For something that had been sketched in only a few hours, it seemed that he had still put a lot of thought into it. Even Annabeth Chase would have been proud of it.

“I… I wasn’t expecting to see these anymore,” Leo said with a hoarse voice, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room.

“But it was something you dreamed about, right?” Calypso asked, worried she had done something wrong.

“Yeah… still do.” Leo nodded, the papers shaking in his hands. “I didn’t think you’d remember…”

“I remember a lot more than you think I do,” Calypso said. “I used to be a titaness, remember? But… when I saw it I knew it was important to you and I kept it because it was my way to hold onto the hope that…” She swallowed. “That you would come back to me.”

Leo leaned in to give Calypso a kiss on her forehead. “And I did. Hey, wanna hear a secret? I took something from Ogygia to guide me back there. I think I still have it…”

He started fiddling with his toolbelt for a while before he found what he was looking for. It was a tiny piece of crystal from Calypso’s old cave.

“It was thanks to this that I got the astrolabe to work and managed to find back… You can have it.”

“But I…”

“It has done its job. It brought me to you. So, who is more suitable to carry it?”

“Thank you.” Calypso looked at the crystal with teary eyes. “It… may have been my prison but it was also a home… This… means a lot to me.”

“I hope it’ll remind you of the good things you experienced there. Not the bad," Leo said quietly.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it… it will.”

“Good.”

Calypso leaned against Leo’s chest to calm herself down, getting his shirt wet but he didn’t complain. She didn’t move from there for a long time, and Leo was starting to get a bit worried before she finally lifted her head and swiped her nose on a tissue Leo dug for her from his toolbelt. Then she looked at him with her puffy eyes, somehow still looking good in Leo’s opinion.

“I don’t know what just happened there…” She mumbled. “I guess… this whole past year… or more… has been a lot. Yet I haven’t been able to cry even once… Somehow it just all flooded out of me now.” “’s OK.” Leo said, stroking Calypso’s long hair. “Trust me, I’ve been feeling that way… well, probably since I was 8.”

“When your mom…”

“Yeah,” Leo nodded. “But wanna hear a weird thing? Even though things haven’t exactly been easy for us… Right now I’m feeling more balanced than in a long time.”

“And why is that?” Calypso asked.

“This is gonna sound cheesy as hell but I think it’s because I’ve finally found a home. No, I don’t mean Waystation as a place, although I admit it’s cool as heck and the only place about as safe as Camp Half-Blood. But I mean the people here. You guys make it home.”

Even though Leo didn’t say it aloud, his eyes told Calypso that he wanted to say ‘especially you’. She understood.

“I think… I feel the same way,” she said.

Leo brushed a strand of her hair aside from her face and leaned in to kiss her. The gesture made Calypso happy because so far Leo hadn’t been the one to initiate the more romantic displays of affection, even though she sometimes wished he would. It might have been a bit sloppy, but neither minded, just enjoying the warmth of the kiss.

After they finally separated, they continued talking for a long time, occasionally bickering, but it cleared the air between them. Calypso wanted to teach Leo to play the guitar (“But what if it makes me too irresistible? You’ll have to drive all the ladies away!” “You have a bit too high expectations on yourself, Leonidas.”). Leo told her about his pupils’ and Georgina’s most recent shenanigans. They also ended up speculating about Apollo’s plans now that he was a god again and reminiscing the times on Ogygia. At some point Leo dug the Valdezinator from his toolbelt and got Calypso to sing along to the music, making both a bit emotional again but in a good way. They fell asleep huddled in each other’s arms on the couch and didn’t even care when Jo and Emmie found them there the next morning, giving them quite a scolding again.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus #my fics #tower of nero #percy jackson and the olympians

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dwestfieldblog · 3 years ago

Text

A VERY REMOTE ENGLISH TEACHER

Where meditations, rants, reverie and absent seizures cross over... closer to one gun with one bullet, the rose of ruby and the cross of gold...uff, and MENTACIDE IN THE TIME OF MASQUES. Although I have never suffered from the guilty masochistic torture of ‘pleasure anxiety’, Bacchus hath indeed drowned more men than Neptune. So I stopped drinking for 18 days to fool myself I was doing something positive and threw away enough things to be minimalist again. Arf. Beauty and/or function uber alles.

Been treading water for three years and trying not to drown...big round of one hand clapping for the former poet. Meanwhile, in this temporary world and perception I have created of it, I am looking at a very possible exile one way or the other...my ‘plan’...a long phased withdrawal or hasty retreat. My wish is to stay, but once I leave, it might well be very hard to return. Read as many metaphors as you want into that but in spite of my dislike of the conservatively minded Aristotle’s ‘either/or’ nonsense, there do indeed appear to be only two this time. And appear is the operative word. Appearances can be deceptive and emotions (unless raised and focused) cloud over what should be clear. Pain has a tendency to breed worry and fear too but let’s draw a veil over that for now eh? Suppress, suppress, release comes later...breathe deep and try not to cough, onward we go where the game gets rough...Just like Tom Thumbs Blues 65.

Remember Roman Protasevich...As Lukasenko himself said...‘Belarus stood at the edge of an abyss and I helped it take a step forward’. Look good on your tombstone that will Al. Fecking outrageous the Indian PM only admitted in May that covid was transmitted in the air. He needs removing... as do two thirds of all the other world leaders East and West. Hello Bollsanaro. People are very easy to manipulate when they’re are scared or angry...and right now the world majority are both. But, ‘there is a crack in everything... that’s how the light gets in’... and ‘things could change’, doesn’t have to be for the worse. It can take decades to realise this as actual truth, but still nice to read and try internalise the following last week.’The odds actually favour the optimists, since dissipate structures are more likely to evolve into more information rich (intelligent?) forms than into primitive or chaotic forms.’ All my friends bar my best one are optimists..Hello you:-)

Ever onward deeper downward with Orban in Hungary and his mission of ‘Christian values’, which involves a familiar routine of arresting, beating and disappearing dissenters in the name of Christ and taking over the universities to replace professors with those who understand on which side their bread is buttered. Decent judges long gone. Nice fascist communism...and ex soldiers in France and the Czech republic warning of civil war...

And now spiraling we go into the black hole vortex of Disaster capitalism, ‘Let the bodies pile high’. There’s gold in them thar ills....ISLAND PARANOIA and PERFIDIOUS ALBION! A country which demands a contract, agrees, signs to it and then refuses to honour it. We look worse than ridiculous, we look deceitful. Gentlemen, your places please. Boris Johnson is a clumsy, inept, disgraceful charlatan, con merchant and LIAR. A blustering master bullshit artist, the only decent thing about his recent secret wedding is that now he legally has one less bastard child.

Recently I read that British people are displaying signs of Stockholm syndrome...in that they dislike those who hold power over them and make the rules but during the time of pandemic, they are the ones who will release the saviour vaccine and get everything moving again. So rather than rocking the boat and daring to express dissent at the DIABOLICAL handling of the last 18 months, they have mostly kept quiet and voted for the same endlessly failing, corrupt and venal politicians who made a bad situation far worse. (That said, it bears repeating that there are a few million in the UK who didn’t quite understand that that the spread of a highly contagious airborne virus can be slowed by the wearing of masks/applying basic hygiene and even took offence at being told what should have made sense to any adult homo SAPIENS half capable of cogitating for themselves. Morons and scum. Same where you are?

By the way BBC...the colossal dearth of stories about the endless government failures in relation to Covid, death, corruption and the NHS...ever since they blackmailed you with threats of revoking the TV licence fee and got you to change Directors has been noted. Long may Have I Got News For You continue the satire and balance needed in a DEMOCRACY. Obey your public servants? Why, when they do not serve few but themselves? Power OF the people? Which ones...the mob? The same bleating pricks who follow populists?

Four eyed beanpole fop Rees Mogg, with his wonderful line that the benefits of Brexit will be seen ‘over the next fifty years’...well yes, that is why most people vote in democratic elections eh?...So they will be dead or ancient before the change they hoped for comes...and the politicians who lead them now, will have all long moved on to revolving door chairman of the board offshore limited liability company paradise. Bread today jam tomorrow fairytales. What I tell you three times is true.

O, but the English do so love to be told what to do by dumb posh boys who treat them like dirt. Some are forelock tugging and some are self flagellating middle class upper class wannabes who will never get there but still feel proud they are not street level proles. Doby the house elf alien hamster Michael Gove found guilty of breaking the law. Nothing. Internal inquiries run by those connected to the money changing hands find nothing illegal. Corruption for all to see...and ignore. ‘Well, what can we do?’ The uselessly inept serial failure Dido Harding to be in charge of the National Health Service? (she of the collapsed Woolworths, Talk Talk and the 22 BILLION pound loss of the Covid Track and Trace program where non working consultants/insultants, were paid 1000 pounds a day). American style privatisation is coming where only the wealthy or criminal can afford to be repaired and well. Sick.

Meanwhile, All our imported nurses out, and all the lobster red fat Spanish costa de la sol criminals back in. Great exchange, fair trade and forward thinking. The Kremlin are manipulating/supporting Scottish independence... I read years ago about their base in Edinburgh for Russia Today (the foul insert in The Daily Telegraph) and they were already encouraging it. Rees Smug has accelerated and supported their freedom with his snobbish utterances on countries in the UK other than England and their ‘foreign languages’. With every patronising, arrogant pronouncement, the Eton trifles fuel the fire in Scotland which has a long bitter history of being tortured, murdered and subjugated by their southern masters. Perhaps the chumocracy in Downing Street believe the Celts to be as easily cowed as the middle and working classes down south. Here’s hoping not. ‘Rebellious Scots to crush’? Not this time pal.

As for the future of Britain? A dystopian open prison where the lower social classes toil only at the pleasure of their masters. The higher caste getting richer and all others cast into a living Hell of debt, crime, and sickness. Serve until you die and be thankful we allow you to exist. Increasing in utter irrelevance to the world, other than as an example of how wrong a former democracy can go. This future started decades ago...its baobab roots truly deep now. Better education and critical thinking for the masses in the UK (or anywhere else) is highly unlikely now. Optimism huh? As long as I am not in England, I will still be able to tap into it, but once enclosed long term in the group mind there...trapped in a grey quagmire. Keep smiling...

Several weeks ago, I watched a video on YT of apparently English protestors running after the police in London, some attacking and throwing things, one pulling off the pandemic mask of an officer and all shouting abuse at the outnumbered cops who had to keep pulling back. As always, to get my caffeine rush of fury going, I read the comments and was surprised to see two or three from Chinese names. Almost all comments were against the government (fair enough) and dumb against the lock down, masks, vaccinations etc. Checking again, I saw the video had been posted by CGTN...a media company owned and run by the communist party in Beijing...and not one author of diatribes had mentioned this, nor speculated with a critical thought as to why such an organisation might enjoy turning people against their own democratically elected government (however mind rippingly foul and corrupt they are).

I copy pasted the Wikipedia paragraph about the company onto the page and hoped someone else would make the connection. I wouldn’t mind so much IF there were a credible and decent alternative other than the diseased populist poison for which the demonstrating goons chant. China really cares about the standard of democracy in Britain eh? Persuade your enemies to weaken themselves. Destroying countries by encouraging their ‘patriots’.

(That was written on the anniversary of Tienanmen Square...a few days later Xi Jinping gave a speech saying ‘...a lovable and respectable’ China must be presented to the world and must ‘expand its circle of friends’. Tell that to your teenage ‘dissidents’, Muslims, Falun Gong and Tibetans being tortured and brainwashed in prisons or being used for organ harvesting. Tell it to Hong Kong and Taiwan.)

Unholy America...against abortion and the pill, sex education’s not Gods will and in the Name of Christ they kill...if truth be known, we’ve failed the test...but Jesus was a Socialist and Republican conservatives hate them. The founding fathers of America were Very clear about separation of church and state with damn good Reason. Another part time Christian, Mike Pompeo wants to be president. Q Onan deepstorm morons/Kremlin stool pigeons aka POLEZNYYE IDIOTY continue to push for Trump and his Big Lie...He with the brain where ‘In the left, nothing is right and in the right, nothing’s left.’ Arf.

Over the last two decades, the dumb have been finding their voice and are now louder and prouder of their dumbass ignorance. 74 million in the US alone, their egos unable to retreat in the face of endless evidence to the contrary, they all double down. Like children sticking their fingers in their grimy ears sing songing ‘la la la can’t hear you’. 74 million versions of Eric Cartman, loud, proud and wrong. And uuff, Megan Markle, Majorie Taylor Greene, walking Picasso collage (bad car driver) Caitlin Jenner and Ivana Trump in politics...not exactly holding a proud lantern for women eh? I’d like to buy them for what they are worth and sell them for what they think they are worth. Not very PC?

That was the point. Could easily been written about all of the men written about here too. Next examples follow...

Tucker Carlson and Alex Jones compete for who can be as mentally ill as trump. The Miami school where the husband and wife directors told teachers not to return if they had HAD their vaccine shots because their proximity to students was interfering with menstrual cycles and uuuufff...The sickness of utter mind buggering stupidity. I had my first shot, now waiting to turn reptilian when the 5G masts triangulate my position. Fnord. Covid appears to be killing more overweight meat eating males than females...perhaps testosterone is not useful for the coming Race of non binary mutant hermaphrodites...and look out for the end of the Y chromosome, coming to a temporary universe near you...in 4.6 million years. Yes, really.

Glad Netanyahu is out at last, smug corruption is never a good look unless one is a rich criminal. Ha. The Promised land of Israel...If I was in court for serial murder, breaking, entering and stealing and then defended my actions by saying that God had told me to do it, would the Judge; A. Call for a psychiatric report, B. Disregard the statement as unprovable and pass the appropriate sentence, C, say Ok mate, you’re free to go, good luck to you. ? Moses had a good schtick.

The law is only to punish the poor, do you feel as if you suffer from empathy? Once you know, you no longer need to believe. What does ‘reality’ seem to be? The more certain you are, the stupider you get and belief is the death of intelligence. The machine is running the engineers. What is the definition of rationality...the quality of being based on or in accordance with reason or logic.

Nothing is, but thinking makes it so. Epicurus.

EVERYTHING NOT COMPULSORY IS FORBIDDEN.

The glamour illusion of the mass of pointless hot influencers needs a constant renewing of the Banishing Ritual as much as all the pigslop bile coming from Fox News and Sky. Bloody long haired commie liberal faggot they cry against any not identical to them. Some days I have only flamethrowers of hatred for these idiots. Other days...not exactly self doubt, just questions...most of us seem to believe our opinions are more valid when there are emotions connected to them. Including me. Again, this seems like a very weak version of ‘truth’, unless disciplined, channeled and focused to a certain end.

Life appears to exist in order to become via chaos.

Most of us are working only not to be homeless, some because of the joy in our chosen work regardless of finances. Until ‘reality’ kicks in the door...the bondage gets tighter when you struggle. How much hardship is the individual willing to endure these days by choice? Surrounded by a universe of distraction and destruction, Maya mewling for our attention. Five years of Trump, rampant populism and Brexit doing a Hexagram 23 on democracy, compounded by the pandemic...all on top of ‘normal’ daily life. The ego feeds and the immune system breaks down. Hard to ignore without being on a mountain or in a parallel dimension and emotion free other than compassion. But BY GODDESS IT CAN AND WILL BE DONE. Ladies of Life Nin Khursag, Isis, Kali, Aradia...Love one, Love ALL. At very least have respect for thyself but be not thou proud of thine arrogance nor thy suffering.

Or just Remember where you came from, what you were, seem to be and will become.

Heal, heal, more work to do, more love to give, more love to feel, Heal. Stay in drugs, eat your school and don’t do vegetables. Impose your own reality upon and through yourself, breathe, exhale, repeat, and continue, LOVE UNDER WILL. Experience and absorb but ‘It’s a house of tricks, ignore the world’’.

Stay well, be seeing you:-)

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undeath1245 · 4 years ago

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Yukizome and Munakata; or, a missed opportunity in DR3 [spoilers]

Looking back in Danganronpa 3, I think that the writers might have missed an opportunity on not only exploring the effects of the war between hope and despair, but rather to explore the idea about a villain or two within the ranks of Future Foundation. Also, this post may contain spoilers not only from the anime, but from a possible fanfiction I might work on.

Considering that Ultimate Housekeeper Chisa Yukizome was revealed to be brainwashed during the Parade by Enoshima, I feel like the writers might have missed an opportunity to explore this concept. In my opinion, I think Yukizome could have been the true main antagonist in DR3. Now, with her being brainwashed and having a new, darker personality, she would have used her very position as director of the fifth division to spread her despair across her own department, and other departments later on. She could do so with the despair video, simply by trapping one agent in one room and forcing them to watch the video for a long period of time. Of course, she could torture someone into despair the same way she did to her own students, by exploiting their insecurities and weaknesses.

As someone in charge of surveillance, she would be assigned to keep an eye on numerous despair groups worldwide, but she can also do some surveillance on other departments to find out their weaknesses. She could have exploited them to those other agents so she could further spread her despair through other departments. She can also do the same on the remaining communities all across the world, exploiting their weaknesses and converting them into despair. She’ll also have to keep contact with Ultimate Successor Monaca Towa to make sure she’ll serve her role. However, similar to Enoshima with her classmates, she doesn’t want to be caught yet. But as long as she keeps up her chipper, yet vulnerable personality and upholds her position as director, no one would notice her (in Future Side, Munakata and Yukizome were investigating a recent school massacre, and little did the former know, the latter was the culprit). But of course, she wouldn’t be the only influence in the Future Foundation.

Now, let’s talk about Kyosuke Munakata. Munakata, in my opinion, would have been a main antagonist in DR3 like he did in the original. However, I think there’s more to it than him preaching on about hope and how despair must be eradicated from the world. As director of the second division, he could have used his position to influence his own department, and other departments as well, similar with Yukizome’s methods. He could prolong one of his own agents into watching a hope video in a dark room for a long time, but how could he have a hope video with him, you ask? Simple answer: Ryota Mitarai. Considering that he was the first person to have saw Mitarai after he ran away from Hope’s Peak and helped him recover, he could have exploited him by convincing him to make a hope video in order to redeem himself for helping Enoshima. Of course, Mitarai wouldn’t be the only one exploited by Munakata. As an Ultimate Pharmacist, Seiko Kimura can concoct any form of drug, and Munakata could have exploited her into producing an ultimate antidepressant that could heighten one’s faith and sense of hope, as he could then prescribe his entire department and other departments with this drug.

He could also do the same with communities as well, spreading his hope with his hope video and ultimate antidepressant, just as long as despair is being eradicated. And finally, to ensure that hope can still continue on if the Future Foundation were destroyed, he would want to create a small army of hope-bringers, similar to Enoshima’s Remnants of Despair. So, he would probably have Juzo Sakakura, the last person he would exploit, into creating a counterpart to the Remnants through some graduates of Hope’s Peak, of which I assume they were former classmates. At first, these graduates would be trained personally by Sakakura into the sixth division’s Elite Task Force (as seen in the Future Arc), but later on, they would be converted into Munakata’s Founders of Hope, with the same method of watching Mitarai’s hope video and taking Kimura’s antidepressant. But also, he could have individually exploit their weaknesses if he needed to, let’s say he could pressure one of them with their dead loved ones or one of them with their insecurities with their own strength. Considering that Munakata sees Makoto Naegi a threat due to his own beliefs that violence shouldn’t be the way to achieve hope, he keeps an eye on him and decides whether or not he should be detained, especially when Naegi’s been harboring the Remnants. If his villainy were to be explored more, we would have seen a perfect contrast between two influential villains within Future Foundation. And basically, he's a militant, more serious version of Komaeda.

So, if DR3 were to focus more on Yukizome and Munakata as influential characters, we would have seen a greater conflict not only between them, but within Future Foundation as well. Now, consider this a civil war between Yukizome’s department and Munakata’s department, a classic battle between hope and despair, a war that would destroy the foundation inside out. This would most likely be part of Yukizome’s plan to destroy Future Foundation once and for all and re-establish Ultimate Despair even bigger than ever. Or, it could be Munakata’s all-out war against Yukizome after probably finding out that she’s Ultimate Despair, which could lead to a tragic story considering that, according to Future Side, she’s been his long-time girlfriend since their days in Hope’s Peak and that she made him promise to her to rid the world from despair. Or maybe, this war would be triggered by Kazuo Tengan after figuring out that Yukizome had long defected to the despairs, and that Munakata had gone too far with his hopeful beliefs. Seeing that both hope and despair can be harmful, he would devise a plan to expose the two of them with some sort of event, probably with a simple “death”. I could go into more detail about this, but I think I’ve spoiled enough already.

So, that’s all I have to say about this concept. Honestly, I really wished if the writers would explore more about Yukizome being a traitor within Future Foundations. Maybe she could have been a greater villain among the likes of Junko Enoshima and Monaca Towa. Maybe Munakata would have been a greater threat similar to Komaeda. Maybe we could have seen a greater enmity between these two like with Enoshima and Naegi, except both of them are in the wrong. I’ll probably explore more of this in a fanfiction one day, which will be titled Danganronpa Future.

#Spike Chunsoft #Studio Lerche #Danganronpa #Danganronpa 3 #Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak High School #Chisa Yukizome #Kyosuke Munakata #Juzo Sakakura #Ryota Mitarai #Seiko Kimura #Makoto Naegi #Hajime Hinata #Kazuo Tengan #Nagito Komaeda #Junko Enoshima #Monaca Towa #headcanon #fanfiction

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years ago

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New Fic!!

Honey For The Bees

A gift fic for my dear @giishu ! Based on late night conversations about fancasts, post-Wayward Son Simon and Baz, bee necklaces, and communication issues. I promised you something like this a while ago, my friend—better late than never?

Summary: It's not been quite a year since their trip to America but Simon and Baz are in a much better place as far as things are concerned, particularly their relationship. A morning trip to the market sparks some good memories for Simon but inadvertently sets in motion some angsty thought spirals for Baz. A Saturday morning set in the spring after Wayward Son, with moments of misunderstanding, but far more capability to talk things out than they've ever had before.

Simon

I like to come down to the Spitalfields market on weekends. To grab fresh falafel wraps and Thai fruit tea for myself. Decadent donuts for Baz, what with that insatiable sweet tooth of his.

And I could use the exercise–it’s the first sunny day we’ve had in weeks and I don’t mind getting out of the flat for a bit.

Penny’s holed up in her room, cramming for finals. Said she’d been up all night but the pillowcase creases on her face argued against that, I’d say. She’s a bit wound up about it all. I’m glad she got some sleep.

I promised to bring her a chai if she spelled my wings away.

I’m only taking two classes this spring term, so I’m not as spun up as she is. I’ve stayed on top of my work. It helps having Baz come over to study at our place most nights. It’s distracting as hell but he’s such a swot he won’t actually let me get side-tracked. He raps on the table with a “ focus now, Simon, or we’ll be here all night” and puts his work aside to run through my lecture notes with me. Baz can make anything sound interesting.

Merlin, I love him.

I always know we’re done for the night when he raises that eyebrow of his and gives me one of those long, cool looks that does nothing but get me all hot and bothered (he knows it too, the insufferable prat), and then starts to put his laptop away. “Time for a break, Simon.”

That’s usually when Penny snorts and says something rude, if she’s at the kitchen table with us, then escapes to her room with an eye roll and a put-upon sigh. I’ve caught her winking at Baz as she goes though, so I know it’s all just for show.

I don’t let it get to me. I know she’s almost as happy to have him around as I am.

I don’t object to her hiding out in her room, mind you. Study breaks with Baz involve a lot of snogging and I’m not about to complain about that.

And lately, more often than not, they involve Baz spending the night.

In the months since we’ve been back from America we’ve been working up to it, little by little. Back to Baz spending the night. To me holding him in my arms as I fall asleep. To late night kisses and morning breath ones too. To the comforting sensation of his back against my chest and my arm wrapped around his waist, face buried in the silky waves of his hair.

My hand splayed over his chest, feeling the slow, steady thrum of his heart.

The slide of our mouths, the firm grip of his hands on my hips, those elegant fingers finding their way down . . . fuck, I can’t be thinking of that now. Not in the middle of a bloody Saturday morning market.

Baz spent the night at his place last night, working on a group project. Probably why I can’t keep my mind off the thought of him this morning.

I missed him.

I shake my head and shove my hands in my pockets. I’ve got to keep my wits about me. Donovan’s will run out of those Nutella donuts he’s so fond of, if I don’t hurry.

It’s when I’m leaving—my belly full of crusty falafel, Penny’s chai in one hand and the box of donuts in the other—that I see the little stall to the side. I’m not sure why I stop. I don’t usually look at much other than food, not unless Penny or Baz are with me.

But something’s caught my eye. The shape of the pendant hanging at eye level.

It’s a miniature bee, exquisitely crafted in a warm, gold-toned metal, wings caught midair. It makes me think of the fat bees on Baz’s shirt—the one he was wearing the first time I saw him wrap his mother’s scarf over his hair, when we were in America. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sight, not even when I’m a cranky old codger in a care home.

I wish I had a photograph of it.

The pendant is small but surprisingly detailed, set on a chain that looks sturdy enough for the likes of me.

I don’t think about it much anymore, the cross I used to wear. It’s in a box, tucked away at the bottom of my dresser. Baz wouldn’t let me get rid of it. Said relics shouldn’t be binned. That’s not the real reason he wanted me to keep it around. I know I won’t ever need it, not with him. But if it makes him feel better knowing it’s there, I can live with that.

I touch a finger to the bee. The vendor eyes me, a questioning look on his face.

“How much?”

“Fifteen quid.”

That’s not bad. I can manage it.

Having only two classes leaves me with a fair bit of time on my hands. Baz signed me up for some sessions at this martial arts studio—it’s run by someone Fiona knows from her herbalist days, so they’re not so fussed about my dragon bits, so to speak. I took a few classes last term and now I help out there. Get paid for it too.

I tap the bee pendant, making it swing. Makes it almost seem as if it’s flying.

“I’ll take it.”

“You want it in a box, have it look nice?”

“No, I’ll just wear it.”

I put Penny’s chai and the donuts down at the edge of his display table and hand over the money. The chain’s long enough that I can slip it over my head and tuck it under my hoodie and shirt. The motion comes so naturally still, the almost-not-there weight of it on my chest deeply familiar.

My cross used to make me think of Baz. I’d think about why I was wearing it, think about him being a vampire, think about all the things that made me so obsessed with him, not understanding any of the impulses simmering beneath the surface.

This makes me think of the noonday sun glinting off those huge sunglasses of his, the tilt of his head as he adjusted that blue scarf, the smoothness of his shirt in my hands as I pressed him against the car.

Yeah, this is a hell of a lot better.

Penny’s taken over the entire coffee table when I get home, laptop in front of her as she leans against the sofa, books and notebooks and papers scattered around in piles.

Baz is curled up on the far end of the sofa, sock-clad feet just behind Penny, his laptop balanced on a cushion resting on his thighs.

He looks up when I walk in. Probably heard me scrabbling with my keys, what with those super senses of his.The smile that comes over his face is instant, lips curving up, eyes wide and happy.

Not guarded. Not questioning. Not even a glimmer of that wistfulness he’d try so hard to hide. Fuck, it’s good to see that. Just reminds me again how far we’ve come.

I bend down to press a kiss to Baz’s forehead, right on that aristocratic brow of his, as I walk by him on my way to the kitchen.

Yeah. I can do that now.

Baz’s eyes close and he leans into it every time. I love that even more.

I set Penny’s chai on the kitchen counter. There’s no safe space on the coffee table, not the way she’s got things piled everywhere.

I've just set the donuts on a plate when I feel Baz’s arms slide around my waist and the weight of his chin on my shoulder.

I lean back against his chest.

I can do this now too.

“You caught a whiff of the Nutella, didn’t you, you tosser. I was going to bring you a plate.”

Baz turns his head and brushes his lips over the edge of my hoodie, breathing his words into my skin. “I’d rather stay in here.”

I turn in his arms and then it’s him snogging me against the counter until Penny comes in search of her chai.

“Nicks and Slicks, how many times must I tell you two, not in the kitchen! You have plenty of places, not to mention a room of your own to defile, Simon.”

I attempt to disentangle myself from Baz’s embrace but he keeps his arm firmly wrapped around my waist, so I may as well just lean into him. “Why are you yelling at me, Pen? Baz is the one who followed me in here.”

“Traitor,” Baz says and slides his cool fingertips under my hoodie and shirt to pinch my waist.

I used to be sensitive about that too, but the martial arts sessions have me back into near fighting form again.

Baz has this way of running his hands along my sides. A way of resting his head on my belly and nuzzling his cheek against the roundness there that feels positively worshipful, so I can’t really let myself get fussed about it.

Well, I mean, I do get fussed about it, in a totally turned the fuck on kind of way.

Which I don’t need to be, in the middle of the kitchen, with Penny glaring at me.

I hold out the plate I’d put together before Baz distracted me. “Have a donut?”

She frowns.

“Go ahead and have one, Bunce. Simon doesn’t believe in defiling food--it’s far too wasteful.” Baz plucks a donut from the top of the pile. “They’re Donovan’s Nutella. It’s a crime to even profane them with your thoughts.”

It should be criminal to look so sexy eating a fucking donut. The way Baz licks that trace of filling from the corner of his mouth is positively pornographic.

Penny takes a donut and glares at me again. “Ugh, Simon, keep your eyes in your head.” She takes a bite, chews, swallows, and then apparently decides she’s not done giving me shit. “I never thought we’d find anything to divert your attention when there’s food around, but apparently I was wrong.”

She winks at Baz, which is completely unfair.

Because now he’s blushing a bit and blushing Baz is even harder to resist than Baz with chocolate hazelnut spread dotting his lips.

Except he’s just taken another bite of his donut, so now it’s both, and I can’t be faulted for leaning in to lick it off his lower lip which ends up with me giving him a bit of a chocolate laced snog.

“That’s it, I’m out,” Penny says, taking the rest of her donut and hightailing it out of the kitchen. “Refrain from doing unsanitary things on the counters!”

“Merlin, Penny!” I can feel my face heat up.

“Duly noted, Bunce.”

Baz rests his forehead against mine. I trace my finger down the buttons of his shirt, letting my hand rest against his stomach, gently rubbing circles there. I know he likes that.

“You are an absolute menace, Simon Snow. Seducing me in full view of Bunce, with donuts and chocolate kisses.”

I slip my fingers between the buttons of his shirt, his skin cool against them. He likes that too.

And I like that intake of breath that comes from him when I do.

“No one should be seducing a vampire in our kitchen!” Penny shouts from the other room. “Common decency in common spaces!”

“For Crowley’s sake,” Baz growls. He takes a step back and adjusts his shirt, face still a shade brighter than usual.

I did that. It’s a heady sensation every time. That he wants me and this is real.

That we’ve made it.

“Are you going to have a donut, or are these all for me?” Baz plucks another donut from the plate and proceeds to lick sugar from the top of it, just to drive me mad, the wanker.

“Dream on.” Two can play at this game and even though I had falafel at the market I can never say no to a donut.

Particularly when I can fuck with Baz while I eat it.

I stare right at him as I slowly lick at the sugar topping. His eyes widen. Good . I take a bite, chew it ever so slowly, swallow. His eyes immediately go to my throat before darting back up.

I hollow my cheeks as I suck some of the filling out.

“Fucking hell, Simon!” He’s on me, pulling me to him by my belt loops. He takes a bite of the bit of donut that’s nearest him, sugar crystals catching on his lips as he does and sending more of the filling my way.

And now we’re reenacting that scene from Lady and The Tramp with this fucking donut.

Read the rest here at Ao3!!

#carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #wayward son #my writing #my fic #belated birthday fic #photos from joshjo on insta #avan jogia on insta #old spitalfields market #donovans donuts

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vanaera · 6 years ago

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Unread Messages

15. Things you said with too many miles between us (online friend!namjoon + idol!you)

Summary | In which Namjoon has beaten stress, pressure, and also time differences with you by his side but he has yet to beat to know that whom he's talking to through the screen of his phone is the same person he fawns on TV screens along with millions of other people.

Genre | Fluff + Super slight angst

Wordcount | 3, 193

Sequel : Missed Calls

Light suddenly illuminates the pitch black room and it shines against every curve and ridge of Namjoon's face, pricking his eyes to open as he blindly reaches for his glasses.

Once finding his bedroom clear through the lenses, he grabs his phone which alerted him of a new notification.

1 New Message!

SunnyY/N 1:32 AM

Hi! I just finished watching Predestination and holy shit how dare you rec me something so mindfucking??!!

Namjoon types lethargically with a smile hanging on his lips.

MonJoon 1:33 AM

Glad you found the movie compelling though it's 1:33 AM here in the fucking morning, I've got AP exams later, and you woke me up just to say that?

SunnyY/N 1:33 AM

I'm sorry oh my gosh I thought you were awake! God, I didn't think of the time difference! Okay okay, go to sleep now.

MonJoon 1:33 AM

It's alright, I’m having trouble sleeping lately anyway. Where are you currently?

SunnyY/N 1:33 AM

I'm in Italy now though I haven't find anytime yet to travel around :((( Anyhow, go to sleep now! You need that sleep to defeat those tests later!

Namjoon raises his brow. It must be nice to travel around different parts of the world because of your parent's work. The constant jetlags may be troublesome but he'd rather have that than take on a pile of homeworks and exams he doesn't even need for his major.

MonJoon 1:34 AM

Okay, stay safe there. Good nytie night!

SunnyY/N 1:35 AM

Nyt Nyt!!! :DDD

Around six o'clock, Namjoon wakes up to the blaring noise of his alarm clock and another notification.

SunnyY/N 6:01 AM

I hope you have a nice day and good luck on your exams! Fighting!!!! 🙆🙆🙆 ( P.S. : I computed the time difference, credits to Mr. Google and I figured you'll be awake now :)))) )

A grin spreads on Namjoon's face as he ruffles his bed hair and heads to his bathroom. He's got enough of good luck now to tackle on anything that will get on his nerves.

The day passes and so do his three exams with Namjoon fortunately being still alive. He feels he should ask you to wish him luck everyday because God knows how his luck hasn't worn off yet today. And just like every hard work he gets done, he thinks his reward just came with a "ding!" and a Twitter update.

Y/N Official™ 7:20 PM

Y/N models new collection of Flyday "Missantrophies"!

Namjoon has never tapped so fast in his life only to see pure beauty before him. Y/N wore frilly dresses painted with classical paintings his art major friend, Jeongguk, studies that made her look like an artwork instead while she daintily posed around some museum in Rome he knows he'll never have a chance to go to anytime soon. The pictures were breathtaking but what made his heart almost combust was the behind the scene shoots with her barely there make-up and a bright grin on her tired form as she hugs a huge teddy bear by her side.

Too cute, too cute, too cute, gosh Namjoon wants to know how to become that teddybear now.

Namjoon taps on the Send Me icon and immediately taps the image with your username.

MonJoon 7:20 PM

HAVE YOU SEEN THE RECENT FLYDAY PHOTOSHOOT???!!! Y/N LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE ART

- see 10 photos

SunnyY/N 7:21 AM

Yes hoe, but look at this babe

-see 1 photo

Namjoon opens the pic to see Y/N lazily looking at her self-camera with tired eyes and bare face that looks like the meme "I don't fucking care anymore". He laughs with his heart squeezing with affection. He's always a sucker for pictures of Y/N looking like everyday college students. But wait -

MonJoon 7:22 PM

She looks so cute!!!! Btw how did you get this pic???? I haven't seen it on her social media accounts yet. Tell me how??????

SunnyY/N 7:22 PM

I have my ways 😏😏😏 Let's just say I'm really resourceful :DDD

MonJoon 7:23 PM

Meanie

"You're chatting with your online girlfriend again?"

Namjoon raises his head to be met with his roommate (and friend, though he wants to regret such title sometimes) Seokjin's teasing smirk accompanied by a click of the door. He just came home and the first thing he does is suggest that out-of-nowhere-conclusion he kept bringing up. "Uhh yes, online girl-space-friend, not girlfriend," he corrects before he lets his fingers fly across the screen of his phone.

MonJoon 7:30 PM

How are things going around you by the way? Just finished this hellday and I wanna say I think I passed them but I think I'm gonna jinx myself so I'd rather not.

SunnyY/N 7:31 PM

You're not gonna jinx yourself! Just think positive! I know you're smart 😎😎😎 so of course you're gonna pass!!! I'm okay though I'm deadly tired. Been through another flight and now I'm in Sweden.

MonJoon 7:32 PM

So soon?! You're in Italy just like a few hours ago and you haven't traveled around yet!!!! You're missing opportunities, hoe!!

Namjoon thinks you're hella insane going from one country to another without even staying for a while to travel.

SunnyY/N 7:32 PM

I'm really sad too 😥😥😥 but can't blame my parents for deciding to go from one country to another. Oh I got drunk earlier and fortunately I didn't accidentally open another account in some social media platform. I've already got too many shits, don't need to let the whole world know I'm such an embarrassing person ahahahha

Namjoon chuckles and he could hear Seokjin yell "There you go again laughing like a lovesick fool. Stop denying she's so your online girlfriend!" over the kitchen but he didn't mind that at all when he remembers the first time he knew you was through the same odd antic you do when you're drunk.

It was two years ago around some November midnight when Aym a BaBe suddenly messaged him on Send Me with "I'm really sad, can i take up this space for a while?"

Namjoon was used to receiving shady or nonsense flirty messages from questionable usernames, not to say he automatically deletes messages from people he have never heard of at all. But that night was an exception since it was also the first time he saw someone's pain without even looking at their face.

Just like what you said, you then filled up the convo space with "I'm just really sad right now" and "I can't even let out my true feelings at all to the people around me," and lastly how you admired his courage for posting the only post that got over 100 notes in his entire Tumblr life defending female solo artist Y/N.

Y/N, the apple of Namjoon's eyes and his wife-to-be in his own dreamlamd started from scratch and slowly built her career in the music industry with her navy blue guitar and songs about broken glasses and misplaced loves. Namjoon thinks she could have already taken over the world with her now inactive small Youtube account Y/N sings with her original songs about sex, love, and drugs - things usually sung by men artists and topics that were avoided by females in fear of being silenced and judged by a misogynist world.

Though her fame only started with break up songs as she delved into TV and radio shows that prevented her from trying bold moves such as her compositions in her Youtube career, Y/N still writes and sings her heart out and Namjoon cheered for her continuous success.

Around one year later, her upbeat breakup single Go F*ck Yourself gained worldwide popularity that made her voice be known on all ears. That's why yesterday, when news broke out about Y/N's new album No More You was about the trifecta that killed every other female artists' career in such a traditional industry, all hell broke lose over the net.

A couple of "You're promoting bad things with your song," "You're trying too hard," and unnecessarily mean "You're so ugly, try getting a plastic surgery maybe you'll be more tolerable in every viewer's eyes," Namjoon just have to type down a massive text post about such cyber harassment and downright misogyny and inhumane comments against a person who wanted to convey the reality of other people now that her voice can be heard by all over the world.

You suddenly appeared then with a weird username in that one'o clock haze. Namjoon let you rant out your complaints on the convo space, read each message you sent without replying because not everyone needs advice, just someone who can listen to them. When Namjoon checks his inbox some day later, he found that you changed your username to SunnyY/N like every other fan who uses their idol's name on their username but there's something about yours that drove him to know you more. Maybe it's because he wouldn't associate 'sunny' to Y/N unless she's smiling so wide - he wasn't really sure. And just like that, he formed a stable communication with someone he calls "Sun" whose face he hasn't seen yet over a two year course of friendship that is still staying strong now.

MonJoon 7:35 PM

Good for you that you didn't start up another account. Why are you drunk anyway?

SunnyY/N 7:38 PM

Nothing, just sad. Not a big deal. It's 1 AM here btw, I gotta go. Nytie nyt!

Namjoon can sense you didn't want to talk about it so he sends his good nights too before going to the table for dinner. After getting his homeworks done, he counts time differences and sets another alarm aside from his morning call.

Around seven, you wake up with the hundredth notification on your phone but the latest one is what only mattered.

MonJoon 7:01 AM

Good morning! I hope you have a great day. Stay safe, hoe :)

In the middle of writing an essay about the fundamentals of quantum physics, Namjoon's My Only Friend ringtone makes the man jump on his seat, pen almost flying from his grasp. In his defense, Y/N's MOF is the best of her recent album, Friends & Foes, and it's made him feel so much anyway-

Namjoon swipes the green button. "What is it, Jimin?"

"Hey have you seen the announcement of Y/N's concert tour?" Jimin rattles, "Man, the ticket prices are up and I swear to God I have to sell at least one kidney to get the VIP seats and -"

Jimin's rambling turns into white noise as Namjoon hesitates. He's in the middle of doing tons of essays and shit, he's gonna get distracted again with Y/N's face. He already promised himself to tone down his “stanning” a little and just - fuck it. His hands are already pounding against his keyboard, the tab he opened for his references already in the back of his mind as he clicks the news of your new concert. When it comes to Y/N, he easily pushes away his priorities and God, it's just so stupid but still -

Y/N Official™ 10:50 PM

Y/N Sun + Moon Tour ticket prices are up! Concert dates in other countries will be further announced.

Namjoon scrolls down and sees listings of dates in California, New York, Los Angeles, yadah yadah, Italy, and Sweden - wait.

He mumbles a "Gonna get back to you Chim, I'm busy right now" through the phone, ends the call, and goes to Send Me to tap your icon.

1 Unread Message!

Oh right, he hasn't opened Send Me the past few days because he and Seokjin forgot to pay their net bills. Shocks, you must have been pissed off he hadn't replied you yet.

However, he didn't expect to read something aside from your memes or your whereabouts and concern for his.

SunnyY/N 1:20 AM

Hi Joon, I'm gonna be inactive for a while but I think i can send a few somethings whenever I can. Just send me anything you want, complain about school and friends, fanboy over Y/N or whatever, I'm gonna reply to that once I can. Hope you have a wonderful day! :DDD

MonJoon 11:00 PM

Hi Sun, sorry I only read your message now. Jin and i forgot to pay bills on time again so yeah. Btw, Y/N's gonna go there in Sweden on July 5 and I hope you can come there! Send me pics if you can! Stay safe hoe and enjoy travelling around!

Namjoon closes his phone as well as his previous tabs aside from his references and leans on his chair. When you've both started opening up to each other online, you mentioned that once a year you're gonna be hella busy with your folks to the point you barely have time for goofing around the net. It sounded weird but he didn't question you about it and typed "gotta detach yourself away from your phone somehow someday. I’m like that too when finals come hahahahha.", afraid he'll sound prying.

After two years of hanging around and being fond of you, he can't help but be constantly curious of what you're actually doing. You're born in the same year as him (though you're only two months older than him) and you've been travelling around the world with your parents while Namjoon's stuck in college with a Philosophy degree and hating every other subject that has nothing to do with making music. You're sick rich and you have your own studio at home (you showed him a pic) because technically you enjoy music too while he's almost dying with the constant tutoring sessions he have with other kids just so he can save up for his Mon Studio-to-be.

He wonders how he can connect with you so well when you've never had a common ground in your lives aside from liking music and also Y/N. What it would be like if you are a normal college student like him? Are you really small like you say? What will you probably major in? You'll pass out if you had the same schedule as him, Namjoon snorts. He'll probably be that friend who'll constantly check up on you, and you'll probably smile so wide, and maybe your eyes would turn into tiny curves like crescent moons. You haven't sent him a selca yet but he thinks you'll be pretty.

Namjoon sighs. He wants to meet you so badly.

September comes and Namjoon counted 23 small candles his friends stuck in the cake Seokjin made. His friends told him to make a wish first but he didn't really have anything that came to his mind. Yeah, maybe he wishes for everyone's health and happiness - he could do with that, and then he blows the candles along with the worries of the past year.

When the party died down and Yoongi and the rest of the squad bid them goodbyes, Namjoon finds himself slumped against his chair, tired of cleaning all the confetti from party poppers and the piñata Hoseok brought from god knows where.

He opens his phone and scrolls through his Twitter feed for any updates on Y/N's tour and just then a Send Me notif pops out and he smiles. He never managed to beat through coincidence to be online the same time as you do so he settled for unread messages and leaving messages for the past month as well as sending each other pictures of what you've been doing at the meantime. These kept a smile on his face but he knew right then it would never beat the grin he has now he's got to finally talk with you again.

SunnyY/N 1:01 AM

Happy Birthday, Joon! 😆😆😄

🍕🍕🍕🍟🍟🍟🍔🍔🍔🍲🍲🍲🎂🎂🎂🍰🍰🍰🍦🍦🍦🍫🍫🍫

Hope you ate a lot!

MonJoon 1:01 AM

Thanks! and yes i ate a lot! Seokjin's food is ever 👌👌👌 And oh my god, you're finally online! I miss my hoe!

SunnyY/N 1:02 AM

Yes, some things came up but i'm gonna be fine now. Hey, I'm coming back home in Korea this September and holy gosh Y/N will also hold her concert the same month here! Go come, I will be there and we can finally meet up!!! (I won't be free until after the 26th anyway and i want to meet you so bad now that we're gonna be in the same country!!!!)

Namjoon's heart thunders. You've never suggested a meet-up before since you told him six months ago you're not yet okay showing yourself to him when it happened that you stayed in Korea and he requested to meet you. However, the small pain in his heart whenever he has to type this cannot be drowned by its overwhelmingly rapid beating.

MonJoon 1:03 AM

Sadly I can't :(

SunnyY/N:1:03 AM

Hey why? I can buy you the VIP tickets if you're feeling a little burdened with the price. I just want to have my main hoe with me

MonJoon 1:03 AM

Thanks for the offer but my finals just have to be scheduled the same day as her concert and guhhh, I don't even want you to spend so much on me. But god, you don't know how happy you made me when you finally agreed to meet up; I just wanna hug you irl!!!! I'm so excited to finally see you, This must be the best birthday present anyone has gave me, hoe!

SunnyY/N 1:04 AM

But I can't wait that long, what if I say I want to meet you now?

What?

SunnyY/N is requesting for a video call. Accept? Decline?

Namjoon's brows furrow; you told him before you don't want video calls and now you're doing this? It's confusing but Namjoon clicks on Accept anyway because he doesn't have it in his heart to decline your requests.

The image of a room and a yellow-hoodied-figure fills his screen. Namjoon can see a bottle on the far corner of your room and before he can scold you for drinking your problems away, a very familiar voice fills his ears and makes him stuck frozen in his chair.

"I've been feeling sad lately and I tried to get off my phone for the past months but I can't do that now," you sniff, "It's your birthday, I have to greet you. And I know sober me won't do that so I got drunk just to have enough liquid courage to wish you a happy birthday and that I want to meet you."

Namjoon blinks his eyes twice, this must be a fucking dream - why is he seeing Y/N's bare face and hearing her voice live what - how could you be-

"By the way, I wrote MOF while thinking about you," you wipe the tears forming on your waterline, "I'm shit right now, but I don't care. I'm saying stuff I'll not remember so you have to remind me okay? I'm gonna end the call now. It's a stupid reason - I just wanna see you."

Before you tap the red button Namjoon could hear you mutter, "I didn't imagine you'll be this fucking handsome God, I should have fixed myself."

The screen goes back to the convo space with you now offline and Namjoon can't feel his heart.

What the fuck, you're Y/N?!

A/N | Hi anon! I combined your requests into #15. Hope you like it! Sorry for the long wait! BTW, Send Me is a social media platform I made up and so is the brand Flyday!

09.07.2018 : Update! This will become another drabble series of mine so expect more dynamics and shenanigans of fan!namjoon and idol!you :D

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beardyallen · 6 years ago

Text

8 Crazy Nights (Part 1) - Captain Marvel, Work, and Food

Not sure if you all saw, but I tried to write this on Saturday...It did not go well. And now it's two days later, more stuff has happened, and documenting everything seems just a million times more daunting.

Nevertheless, he persisted.

However, I'm learning from my past mistakes and posting this in several pieces. Hopefully this isn't being read out of order.

If memory serves, and my memory is sufficiently muddled after the celebrating yesterday, I left off on Thursday, March 7th. The next day, I spent a goodly portion of my day in my office, cracking away at my random pedigree generator algorithm. Super (duper) exciting stuff, I know.

But R showed up that night to go see Captain Marvel at the nearby mall! And, as is apparently tradition when you visit someone's apartment, she brought me a gift. And what sort of gift do you bring a guy like me, you ask? Authentic German beer, obviously! Oh, and mangos, as I had divulged that I've only ever had dried mangos and mango-flavored things. Sadly, the mangos are still sitting in my fridge because I'm not entirely sure how one is supposed to eat them. *shrug*

The mall itself is quite strange (from my limited perspective), and I don't think I've described it yet. In a standard American mall, the jewelry shops are always on corners; here, the jewelry shop (as well as several other shops) are posted up with no walls in the middle of an open space. And approximately 25% of the shops are bakeries or coffee shops. This place really knows how to entice your sweet tooth! R picked up some mini cheesecakes for the trip the next day!! Super (duper) yummy!!

One of the other interesting aspects of the first floor is the manner in which one would buy shoes (there are like...10 "shops" that sell shoes). Once again, the shops have no walls, so you just kind of wander over to a display, the attendants hover around you to see if they can help (presumably?), and after you've picked your shoe, they give you carbon paper with an order, you walk to a desk 5 shops over to pay, then carry the receipt back and attendant who was helping you wipes off the shoes again and exchanges them for the receipt. I suppose it keeps clutter down and eases the shopping experience if you're trying on shoes from different displays? When I bought shoes a few weeks ago, it was quite an ordeal given that I had no idea what the expectations were and we couldn't really communicate with anything other than hand signals, nods, and shrugs.

The second (of five) floors has the supermarket and a plethora of men's clothing shops, half of which are athletic-themed shops like New Balance, Adidas, or knock-off-Air-Jordan, and the other half are more "high-end" clothing shops. Nothing in between. Oh! And more than 80% of the models in the pictures and spreads on the walls are white. Not sure how effective that is when 95% of your clientele doesn't look like that. *shrug* There _does_ seem to be a strong desire here to appear Western, but still...

The third floor is mostly women's clothing, and the fourth floor is partially empty. But the fifth floor has the cinema and food court. One comment about the phrase "Chinese food"...It's immensely inadequate. I don't know how many different cultural regions there are in China, but there's for sure at least 6 unique cuisines, all tied to a particular region. And when I say 6 _unique_ cuisines, even my uneducated, narrow American perspective (and palette) can distinguish between them. That, to me, is probably the biggest problem with describing a restaurant in the States as serving "Chinese food." But hey, I'm just an ill-informed American, so my opinion probably doesn't carry much weight.

The cinema itself was quite impressive as well. You know how when you walk into a cinema in the States, and you get hit with that theater-popcorn smell? It's buttery and savory and only sometimes kind of stale? Well, that didn't happen here. And not because they don't have popcorn, or that they don't serve as much popcorn...I think it's mostly because, as seems to be the case with everything here, the popcorn isn't of the buttery, salty variety. No, this popcorn is green or pink or caramel covered. Drizzled with chocolate syrup or some other sort of confectionary (is confectionary a real word?).

Oh, and it's not just the popcorn that got a make-over. The nachos here are...borderline unrecognizable. And that's not the say that you wouldn't recognize what was placed in front of you, because I think you would, but you just wouldn't recognize it as "nachos." Instead of warm tortilla chips with a cup of hot, sometimes-mildly-spicy cheese sauce and jalapenos and other nacho toppings, here you get a bowl of...warmed up Doritos. That's it. Just Doritos. That have been sitting under a heat lamp. R ordered them and offered me some. I said thanks-but-no-thanks. It was a strange experience, watching someone happily munch on heated up Doritos.

Captain Marvel was exceptional, though! The classic Marvel opening was modified a bit for this film, and if you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. For sure shed some positive number of happy-sad tears. The actors were all exceptional, and I was thoroughly impressed to see how seamlessly the special effects made it look like Samuel L. Jackson was 25 years younger and had both eyes! Crazy!!! Also seeing Phil Coulson return to the big screen was dope, and I loved the post-credit scenes! The music was perfect, too! I just wish the theater had the volume high enough to trigger the strong emotional reactions I'm used to feeling in Marvel movies.

After the movie, I stopped by the beer shop across the street where I met The One to buy a couple bottles of Founders beer. I swear, I had ever intent of enjoying them on St. Patrick's Day...but one of the two was consumed a couple days later, and the other wasn't opened until I got back from the celebration yesterday...and I don't think I would have really been able to appreciate the KBS in that particular state. So I have that to look forward to when I finish teaching tonight!

The next day was spent traveling with my coworkers to the Great Wall, and this seems like a decent place to pause the narrative.

Actually, we'll skip the Great Wall for a minute, and I'll describe the past week. It wasn't terribly eventful, but there are a few mildly-interesting pics. My work week consisted mostly of prepping my students' first exam, along with a practice exam (which I don't like doing, especially at this level). In fact, on Friday, after I finished writing and testing my random pedigree generator, I spent a good portion of time trying to get the numbers of a particular probability problem to work out.

I totally don't look like a crazy math fanatic at all..

When I wasn't working, I spent much of my time reading or playing video games. There's a Communications grad student here who also plays Super Smash Bros. We intend to maintain the friendship State-side as he has a few gamer friends in Denver who play SSB as well. And who have guessed that Petey Piranha would actually be an entertaining fighter?! Like..he's a glorified potted plant, but his attacks are interesting, effective, and rather distinct (see: he's a potted plant). *shrug*

Several of those nights involved take-out from KFC...which just released a new item. Or at least new to me. You'll note some orange fibrous material on the top, some sort of white cream in the middle, and the base is a waffle. Cuz nothing says "Kentucky Fried" quite like whatever the hell that is...(Not that KFC can even call themselves Kentucky Fried, nor is their chicken even real chicken! Sorry guys, someone's gotta say it!! lol)

The waffle itself is quite sweet, as is the white cream. Not sure the intended flavor of the cream, but my best comparison is the sugary drizzle stuff you put on toaster streudels. Struedels? Strueueudels? Not sure how to spell that, and Googling it would require a smoothly operating VPN which I just don't have the patience to deal with right now. And the orange stuff on top? It's dried crab. Which I knew in advance as I'd had it on the hike to the underground river and caves. All-in-all, it surpassed my expectations, but I don't think I'll get it again...

Oh, and dinner on Friday night consisted of lamb spine. Yup. The spine. Of a lamb. Technically, it was lamb spine hot pot, but let's be real: the stand-out contributor isn't the heat or the pot or the brine. It's the spine.

You can see a bunch of vertebrae just boiling away in there. You still use chopsticks, but one of your hands has a plastic glove. Oh! And you can push your chopstick through the hollow center of the vertebra to get at some of the marrow and what we could only assume was part of the spinal cord. I ate mine, but the only other person who was lucky(?) enough to find one didn't partake.

Other than some rather standard beer, CB ordered us a bottle (half a fifth) of some sort of herbal liquor. E, another instructor, mentioned a commercial for the product which seemed to suggest that this was the perfect gift from a marrying-age girl's new fiance to her father upon their first meeting. "Made for the man!" It was somewhere between a whiskey and an amaretto, but the sweet taste was distinctly floral or herbal or something. It was pretty good! Definitely something you sip to enjoy.

I have one more food experience to share, but it fits better in a different part of the story, so I'll stop here and pick up with The Great Wall in my next post.

Sláinte,

BeardyAllen

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unofferable-fic · 6 years ago

Text

UNOFFERABLE: 22 - AMBUSH

Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.

Originally posted by Vudozahn

————

Set Pre-Thor 1

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Inspired by this imagine

Warnings: Language, Frigga being a bamf.

Word Count: 3,819

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Playlist: “Any Other Name” — Thomas Newman, “I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You)” — Fall Out Boy, “Black Out Days” — Phantogram

————

A/N: Also available on AO3 and FanFiction.net.

Ellie had not thought she would be sitting the the private chambers of the Allfather and Allmother after seeing Loki off. And yet, here she was, sitting at a table and resisting the urge to nervously wring her hands. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t panicking over the possibility of Frigga knowing exactly what she was doing with her son.

That would be an insanely awkward conversation, given the goin’s on in his bed this morning…

“Tea?” Frigga asked her, cutting through her thoughts.

Ellie nodded calmly. “Yes, please. Do you want me to—?”

“Not at all,” she hushed her, pouring two cups of tea. “I can manage just fine. There is nothing formal about this conversation, little one. It is merely a chat.”

“Merely a chat,” Ellie repeated with a small smile, watching the Allmother take a seat across from her. “Can I ask as to what we’re chattin’ about?”

Frigga paused for a moment, focusing her attention on putting some milk in their cups. While the silence wasn’t doing Ellie’s nerves any favours, she kept her mouth shut and waited for her to start talking.

“Fourteen years ago,” Frigga began. “I brought you here after finding you on Midgard and have never regretted the decision for a moment — not that any parent would if they were a decent person. I know that there have been occasions where your time here has been difficult, but you have grown into your own, and I hope you know that having you on Asgard has been a pleasure. No matter what anyone may say to you, this is your home and you are always welcome here.”

“Thank you, My Queen. Although I acknowledge that there’ve been some difficult days, especially at first, I’ve met some great people who’ve made me feel more than welcome here.”

She grinned at that, holding her cup in her hands. “I’m glad. I think you have settled into your role here in the palace exceptionally and it is good that you have made some friends along the way.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ellie agreed and mimicked her movements by wrapping her hands around her hot cup. “I’m eternally grateful for the friends I’ve made here. They have made my life far more bearable than it could’ve been otherwise. Not only that, but they have been so helpful in terms of becomin’ a good handmaiden.”

“I think it is safe to say that you are better than merely good. After all, you are now the personal handmaiden to a prince.”

Ellie chuckled lightly, masking her unease at the mention of Loki. With a light shrug, she raised her cup to her lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“He requested you personally for the position.”

“He did briefly mention that. I was humbled to accept.”

“And how are you finding it? I know Loki is not an easy one to work under.”

Ellie had to suppress the very vivid image of being under Loki earlier in the more literal sense. “He is very particular, I’ll admit, but he’s been nothin’ but fair to me.”

“I am glad,” Frigga said with a smile. “The hand servants before Radburn were not his biggest fan. They found him tough to please.”

The young woman shrugged and raised her cup to her lips. “He seems t’be quite reasonable once you listen to what he asks.”

“That is a logical way to look at it,” she agreed, and met her gaze. “I am sure it also helps that he is in love with you.”

Ellie froze, hot tea already scalding her tongue.

Her eyes met those of the Queen, who wore a calm expression, the hint of a smile on her lips.

Oh, shit.

“I’m sorry?” she asked after swallowing the drink. She knew she had to stay calm. There was a reason as to why their relationship was a secret, and she had learned how to lie from none other than the God of Lies himself. And yet, she knew that she had little hope convincing Frigga otherwise. For now, she would carefully assess and play dumb.

The Allmother’s tone was the epitome of casual, as if they were not talking about love declarations and secret feelings. “Loki is in love with you, of course. And it is simply wonderful considering you are in love with him too.”

Oh, fuck.

“Allmother, I don’t know what you mean—”

Frigga laughed, taking another sip of her tea. “Come now, Ellie. You know, my son may be a master of lying, but I am one of the few people in the Nine Realms able to recognise his honeyed words. I can see them in you now, so you are better off being honest with me.”

Ellie hesitated, pulse quickening knowing that there was no way out of this. It felt like silence consumed the room for the longest time. She could only stare in disbelief as the Queen patiently waited for a response while thoroughly enjoying her tea. It didn’t matter if she incessantly denied the claim; Frigga knew. “How long have you known?”

Another pleasant laugh. “Probably longer than you both. It seemed like I realised before you two began courting.”

Is there anythin’ she doesn’t fuckin’ know?

“But we were careful—”

“That you were,” she concurred. “I cannot fault you both for the effort put into concealing your relationship, considering no one else has a notion of its existence, but I could see it quite clearly.”

Ellie was baffled. Truly baffled at this confession. “How?”

“It is quite obvious if you know what love looks like. It is not all physical or hushed confessions of adoration; it was clear in how you treated and cared for one another. From the very beginning you latched on to him, and never strayed even when others found Loki to be overbearing or too intense. You saw the positive qualities he had to offer and embraced them. You confided in him and treated him as an equal as opposed to ‘Thor’s younger brother’. Most of all, you trusted him.

“He saw similarities in you as well, knowing that it would be hard for you to adjust here as an outsider. So he stayed by your side when in harms way, and taught you how to defend yourself when you asked for assistance. All these things were clear to me, but it was also too obvious when you were in a room together. Even if it was at a feast of ball, you always looked for each other across the crowds. I have never seen my son look at someone in such a manner, and given your young age, I imagine you have not looked at another similarly either. Do not be ashamed, little one. There is nothing to be ashamed about.”

“You were not meant to find out,” Ellie mumbled, hanging her head. “I’m assumin’ you haven’t had this discussion with him?”

She shook her head. “I wished to speak with you first. That, and I would also rather let him keep thinking he can lie to me.” She rolled her eyes. “How he ever thought he could successfully fool his own mother is beyond me.” Frigga looked at her for a moment and added. “You can relax, Ellie. Why are you so tense?”

“Are you goin’ to tell the Allfather?” she asked. “Because his disapproval was the reason we kept our relationship secret in the first place. He didn’t even like the fact we were friends.”

“I can assure you that my knowledge of your relationship will be kept between you and I. The reason I spoke with you now is because if, in the time Loki is away, you miss him greatly, know that I am here if you need to vent or talk about it. I know you cannot go to your friends about it for obvious reasons, so know that I am here if you need me.”

“Oh.” Ellie sat there for a moment, suddenly happier that they had been figured out. She had never considered the possibility of having someone to talk to in Loki’s absence. She could never tell Fen or Sevda about how much she missed him, but at least Frigga would be there to acknowledge her feelings. “I wasn’t expectin’ that, but I do appreciate it. Bein’ able to talk to you would make his absence easier to manage. Thank you.”

“No need for thanks. Know that your secret is safe with me. I’m glad you have found each other. You both deserve happiness.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I know that sometimes Loki feels as though he is not Thor’s equal. It breaks my heart knowing that he questions his own worth. I think he sometimes does not realise that we truly do love and care for him — we are his family, how could we not love him? I hope that you have helped him realise that he is more than he thinks he is. Maybe if he sees how worthy he is in your eyes, he will realise how short he has been selling himself. He is certainly not without flaws — as is the case with everyone — but I hope he won’t let his insecurities prevent you from being happy together.”

Ellie nodded in understanding. “Thankfully we’re both gettin’ better at communication, so right now we’re in a good place. Hopefully it stays that way.”

“Hopefully. But while I may worry over my own son, I hope you know that he really does love you, Ellie. I can see it in him.”

“I do believe him when he tells me of his feelings,” she admitted. “There’s not doubt in my mind there. But I am more worried about…well, Odin, if you must know.”

“What about him exactly?”

Although she hesitated, Ellie knew she could trust Frigga not to spread the information she was sharing. “If he was to find out about my relationship with a Prince of Asgard, I do not think he would allow it to continue. When you look at the whole picture, I’m still but a mortal in a realm of gods. It was somethin’ that I overlooked when I agreed to court Loki, but it is a constant naggin’ in the back of my mind. If he were to demand we cut all ties, how could we go against the order of the Allfather?”

“While your worries are valid,” Frigga began slowly. “Please know that if you find yourself in such a position, I will do everything in my power to hopefully convince my husband otherwise. While Odin may have the priorities of a king, I have the priorities of a mother, and my son’s happiness is my main concern. As is yours, might I add.”

For a moment, all the younger woman could do was look at her is surprise. There was no way she had expected any support from the Queen. Sure, Frigga was a great woman, but knowingly disagreeing with her King for the sake of their happiness was a shock to the system. “Thank you, My Queen. I know you told me thank you’s weren’t necessary, but I need to assure you how important that would be to me. I’m sure Loki would feel the same way.”

“He can be a handful sometimes,” she said with a slight laugh. “But I am delighting in seeing another woman in his life. I am still baffled that that boy thought he could lie to me, but if it was for your sake, then how could I fault him for trying?”

“I would do the same for him, I’ll admit.”

“Of course you would, but that is no surprise, not when you feel that way about another.”

“It’s a new and scary feelin’,” Ellie pondered, lightly tracing the rim of her cup. “But I’m glad that I fell for him. As cheesy as it sounds, he makes it worth the risk.” She momentarily cringed and hung her head. “Ugh, that was painful… Did I really just say that out loud?”

“That you did, but who am I to judge? I understand, trust me.” With a soft smile, Frigga gave her hand a squeeze and then reached for a nearby deck of cards sitting on the edge of the table. “Now, Sevda informed me that your card skills are constantly improving. Let’s test that, shall we?”

Ellie grinned at the casual gesture, appreciating how the atmosphere instantly changed with it. She watched as the Queen drew them a hand each. Taking it happily, they settled into a competitive game. A new ease fell over the young woman, suddenly feeling a lot less worried after Loki’s departure with the addition of a trustworthy confidante.

* * *

A month.

A solid month Loki had spent on Vanaheim helping to solve the Marauder crisis. He knew it wasn’t going to be solved overnight, but the time away from home and Ellie was beginning to grate him. He was kept busy, that much was certain, but his mind drifted at night when the Asgardian forces took their rest. Tonight, however, the Odinson brothers readied themselves to battle once more. Odin was currently arranging a smaller group of forces to take out the last of the Marauders, the remainder of their raiders dwindled down from constant attacks. Thor and Loki were tucked away in one of the royal tents as they gathered their weapons and armour, waiting to meet with their father and be told what the plan was.

“Tell me, brother,” Thor said, twirling Mjölnir in his grasp. “Did you speak with your secret beloved?”

Loki hesitated as he strapped on his vambraces. “Say it louder. I don’t think Mother heard you back on Asgard.”

The God of Thunder actually held up a hand. “My apologies. I will keep my voice down, but tell me, have you?”

“I did,” he replied with a nod. “And she forgave my crass words after receiving a well-deserved apology.”

“By Odin! That is wonderful.” He bound across the tent and pulled his younger sibling into a crushing hug. “I am glad she accepted your apology and I am so happy for you!”

“Alright,” Loki grumbled, awkwardly patting his back. “You can get off me now.”

Thor released him before laying a firm hand on the back of his neck. “You are practically grinning at the thought of her! It is amazing and slightly frightening to see.”

The Trickster waved him off, but couldn’t help smiling. “Alright, alright. Enough.”

“Never! So, does this mean I will get to meet her?”

Loki was quick to shoot him down. “Not a chance!”

“But why?” Thor whined, face having fallen completely. “I need to meet this woman who is seemingly more patient than anyone else in the Nine Realms! She sounds wonderful.”

“That she is,” Loki confirmed and turned back to grab his cape. “And meet her you shan’t.”

“You are cruel, brother,” Thor whinged, mirroring his actions. “Are you afraid I will steal her away?”

While the comment was said in jest — hopefully — Loki still sent Thor a very genuine scowl in response.

Immediately, the older son’s smile fell. “Alright, not a fan of jesting, I see.”

“Not about her.”

“I gathered. All joking aside, if she truly loves you, I doubt she has eyes for any other.”

Loki said nothing in response, but looked at his sibling briefly to let him know he at least acknowledged the statement.

“For what it’s worth,” Thor began as he headed towards the tent’s entrance. “I hope I get to meet this special woman some day.” With that, he took his leave.

Loki stood gazing at the spot for a moment of two, surprised by the unusually serious tone with which his brother had spoken. He had no idea whether someday he could tell Thor that Ellie was the woman he was so eager to meet. Given the circumstances, he doubted it would ever happen. If Thor ever found out, then Odin and Frigga would be next to hear the news. Then, they would have to kiss their relationship goodbye if Odin had his way. With a heavy sigh, he steadied himself. Quickly grabbing his knives, he headed after Thor, knowing that the sooner they got rid of these Marauders, the sooner he could return to her.

As it turned out, disposing of the last of the Marauders was manageable with their dwindled numbers. Together, with his sons and the formidable Einherjar forces, Odin killed the remainder and pushed what survivors there were out of Vanaheim. Thor and Loki survived mostly unscathed, bar a few cuts and bruises. Thankfully, the courageous actions of the Asgardians helped to somewhat ease the political tension between Vanaheim and Asgard. The land’s rulers were grateful for the assistance and gave their genuine thanks when meeting Odin in the company of his sons. They were invited to a celebratory feast the following day, a gesture their hosts hoped would accurately convey their gratitude. Odin humbly agreed to attend before announcing that they would take their leave the day after.

Upon hearing his father’s statement, Thor turned to send his brother a suggestive grin. “Did you hear that? You will only have to wait another day before we return home.”

A very genuine smile found its way on to Loki’s face. He wouldn’t have to wait much longer before he saw her again.

* * *

A month.

Really? Did it really have’ta be a month?

While Ellie prided herself on her patience, she was nearing the end of it at this rate. She wasn’t sure what she had expected upon hearing Loki would have to attend to matters in Vanaheim, but she hoped it wouldn’t take this long. She was aware they had been away for far longer times — lest she forget the whole year he spent on Alfheim during her youth — but now it was far different. She had grown so used to seeing him daily, and now she had nothing.

Given his absence, Ellie had temporarily returned to her previous position as Frigga’s handmaiden. It was fantastic to work alongside her friends again and their presence did help distract her from the mild loneliness she felt. Thankfully, after being assured by the Allmother that it would get easier as time passed, she grew somewhat used to the new arrangements. She spent her free time pouring over seiðr books, focusing most of her attention on learning how to conjure the dagger that continued to plague her. She was getting gradually closer, even if practice left her feeling completely draining. She had hoped she could have learned how to do it before Loki’s return just so she could see his face when she displayed her new ability. When she wasn’t practicing seiðr, she either spent time in Fen and Sevda’s company, or accepted an invite for tea and card games with Frigga. Despite the fact she was currently not serving the absent prince, she still slept in her private quarters next to his, hoping that one of these days she would wake up to discover he had returned. Unfortunately, each morning proved to be no different from the others, and she had to accept that this was not a quick little trip.

One evening, she sat at her desk, writing into the notebook Loki bought for her on Midgard. As per his suggestion, she took to writing her more favourable childhood memories as soon as they returned from their trip all those years ago. That night, she happily wrote about a particular memory that occurred soon after her arrival on Asgard. Of late, she noticed happy memories from her childhood in this realm slipping into her entries along with those she recalled on Midgard with her family. She was content thinking about them and browsing through the ones she had first written down in detail so that she would never forget. While she sat writing, a knock on her door cut through the sound of the record player. She raised her head and halted writing mid-sentence, the interruption having stopped her flow. When she opened the door, she was surprised with who she saw standing on the other side.

“Dagny,” she said, giving the fellow handmaiden a once over. “What brings you here so late?”

The woman smiled at her and explained. “The Allfather and princes have returned.”

Ellie did her best to hold back a hopeful expression and settled for looking at her with wide eyes. “They have? Are they alright?”

“Just now, yes, and they are perfectly fine. Prince Loki has asked for his handmaiden and I was sent by the Allmother to fetch you.”

“Oh! Alright, one moment.” She quickly rushed to grab her overcoat and shrugged it on before exiting her chambers. “Where are they?”

“In the main courtyard,” Dagny replied as they hurried off through the empty halls, Ellie trailing behind slightly. “Come, we will take the shortcut. The prince seemed rather impatient.”

“No surprises there,” she sniggered as they headed towards the clockwise spiralling staircase that would bring them to one of the palace’s side entrances. Their heels clinked on the floors as they descended the stairs quickly. Ellie carefully hid her excitement, aware that Dagny would probably question her if she displayed anything other than casual happiness and relief at her employer’s return. Inside, however, she embraced the delight she felt at the realisation that she would see Loki again after missing him as much as she did. She couldn’t wait to see him again and thankfully unharmed from the fray. She was sure Thor would demand she finally come drink with them now that they had returned victorious. The thought of hearing all about their battles and adventures on Vanaheim over some much deserved drinks made her smile. Perhaps Frigga would call for her and Loki and inform him that his lies were practically transparent to her. Most importantly, she simply relished the idea of pulling Loki into a long sought after embrace.

As they hurried down the deserted spiral staircase, Dagny took the lead and was the first to disappear out the door before Ellie reached it a few seconds later.

Somehow, Dagny was nowhere to be seen once the young woman emerged into the cool night air. She didn’t get a second to question how her fellow worker had managed to disappear or turn to see which direction she had left in before searing pain erupted in the back of her head.

The cracking of her skull rang in her ears, but no scream escaped her in the split second she had.

She never had enough time to call for help.

Even her panic was short-lived.

The pain throbbed and burned through her quickly numbing senses.

The surprise attack left her with no chance.

Ellie fell awkwardly to her hands and knees as her world faded to black.

Taglist: @jonsaiscomiing @wrappedinlokisarms @unseelie1963 @talinalani @fightmelight@spookass @myinnerkemono @tumbler-bumblr @jclements919 @ao3-hipster-fangirl-trash @proactiveturtles

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zucca101 · 7 years ago

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Apologists for atrocities

This is an open letter to the anons who keep making assumptions about me. (And if you want to include yourself in that number, that’s fine by me, but you kept saying you weren’t anonymously writing me, so what’s the truth? This is to the anons, and the people who heard from the anons patently incorrect things about me)

Some people have been saying some things about me that are patently untrue of late.

I’ll own disgusting furry. I’ll own Centrist weenie. I’ll own 1st worlder. I’ll own farmboy. I’ll own ignorant American. I’ll own Capitalist. I’ll own Conservative. I’ll own big hairy gorilla.

What I will not own?

‘You hate college students because you want spending cuts in university!’

‘You’re a transphobe because you side with science and think that people with actual gender dysphoria should be left alone to make their own choices and deserve love and respect rather than be erroneously lumped in with people who want to change their gender like the weather changes!’

‘You’re a Nazi sympathizer at best and a Nazi at worst because you had the GALL to say that it’s a mistake to think of Nazis as an amorphous, monstrous blob that is less culpable of people and more just a force of elemental evil! Your use of historical context makes you a Nazi!!!’

While each of these hurts me and pisses me off, it’s the last one that particularly grinds my gears.

Because before these peabrains started hooting their lies about me from the rooftops, I could live with the other two because:

A: I have multitudinous trans friends (Shoutout to my girl, the Triple P! (Patriotic Pony Princess!) @princesscolumbia and my sweet coy wolf Jer! ) who I am on perfectly wonderful terms with and they know me and know my positions (My real ones, not the fake ones that feeble-minded little candy-asses have to manufacture) and are okay with them because they know that if it came down to it, I’d take a bullet for them. And they know my position is that Trans people should be afforded the same love and respect as anyone else, their pronouns should be minded out of courtesy (But not enforced by law) and they, if adults of sound mind and heart wish to, be allowed to transition.

B: Many members of my family went to college and got good degrees that they have gotten a lot of use out of. I know the value of a well-spent college education.

But that last one... The Nazi thing...

Comparing me to one of the worst evils that has walked this Earth is itself, an evil.

And no, I don’t say that for the reasons you think. (Or you either, you asshole. And don’t think this entire post is aimed at you. Get over yourself, creepster)

I’m not harmed by you spreading that shit. All you do is get a few people who are willing to take the word of a ranting lunatic with cropped screenshots at face value to block me.

Ohhhh nooooo. However shall I survive....?

No, what bothers me on a fundamental level is how little you respect the terrible horrors you invoke.

To call me, a bisexual, easygoing, egalitarian, live and let live, furry inflatophile a Nazi is to diminish the effectiveness of the word.

With its every use against me, you rob the impact of the word and you wantonly spit on the mass graves the Third Reich dug.

How dare you?

You spit upon these people.

And you say I’m apologetic towards this?

What kind of completely ruinous mindset are you wearing???

Like I said, it’s no hair off my hide, but it most *certainly* pisses on the memories of the perished. And THAT is what I find intolerable.

You idiots can’t just call people who disagree with you ‘Nazis’ or ‘fascists’ without fully understanding the weight and gravity of those words because somewhere in the cobwebby recesses of your little pea-sized minds, a pair of neurons you have NOT burnt out with chemical stimulants connects the two.

That’s patent nonsense.

When I said ‘Nazis are humans too’ how on Earth did you manage to derive ‘Nazis don’t deserve to be hated!’ from that...? You are touched in the head if you think that’s true.

When I said that ‘Nazis are humans too’ I said that because we’re culturally addicted to this erroneous notion that the Nazis were a vast, faceless army.

They were not.

They were, as any military is, made up of individuals.

And as individuals, they had their own unique takes. And just because I say that most of them joined the Nazis due to promises of economic freedom from the unfair Treaty at Versailles DOES *NOT* MEAN I AM APOLOGIZING FOR THE DESPICABLE, EVIL, WRETCHED THINGS THEY DID LATER.

Make no mistake... if the Treaty at Versailles had not sought to strangle the life out of Germany to make up for a war it and the rest of Europe had been bamboozled into, we would have not seen the rise of Nazi Germany.

And that was the lesson I was trying so hard to impart. That when you push people and abuse them and step on them and, dare I say it, punch them, then you are putting them into a position where they are more and more likely to decide that the time has come to do terrible, terrible things in order to save themselves.

So do NOT misconstrue my heart when I say that modern Nazis should be hugged or ignored.

When I say ‘Hug them’, I mean to do as that TITAN of a man did not long ago when he hugged an ACTUAL Nazi and asked ‘Why do you hate me...?’ to which the Nazi simply uttered ‘I... don’t know...’ and turn them away from that path of destructive hatred.

When I say ‘Ignore them’ I mean that if we just treat them like village idiots, let them speak their peace and tell them how stupid they sound, they’ll die out naturally, a pathetic pack of burnouts trying to fight a war that’s been over for decades, but to no avail. Let them have their platform so that we may deconstruct and dismantle their arguments.

You want REAL Nazi Apologists and REAL Transphobes, check out these sick fucks:

https://themistrunsred.deviantart.com/

https://luckmann.deviantart.com/

https://fvsj.deviantart.com/

These assholes are ACTUAL apologists for the ACTUAL Nazis. They actually believe that the Nazi Party and Adolf ‘Cheesebrain’ Hitler did nothing wrong.

Why did I show them here? To give you muttonheads some perspective. To show what actual apologists for those bastards look like.

Because worse than you idiots spitting on the memory of the fallen, THESE cretins deny it even happened at all!!

You want to go harassing people to get your jollies? Sic em.

But they’re not likely to change their minds if you go at them with frenzied caterwauling.

You want to kill the Nazi? Kill their arguments. The person will walk away from the Nazism and the idea of Nazism will die.

We were so goddamned close to shoving Nazism into the bin of irrelevant, non-entities before you chowderheads started seeing Nazis around every corner and using them as a bag to put over the heads of people you disagree with.

Now don’t get me wrong here...

I make no illusions that we will agree on everything, especially where politics are concerned.

But one thing we can indeed agree on is that Nazis suck unwiped taint and need to go away.

I’m telling you though that your method will make more of them. And God forbid should one of them actually get into a position of power, you will know actual oppression.

Why do I insist on saying that Nazis were humans too?

Because to deny that fact is to deny our responsibility as the human race for them and deny that those monstrous things they did could have been prevented before they happened.

And that is all why you can count on me to fight against real Nazis.

That and of course, the affront to humanity that is Communism.

Both are ideologies of envy, hatred, death and wickedness.

But so far, we’ve only labeled one in the mainstream as evil.

I say we chuck them both in the dustbin where they can rot.

If you’ve gone all this way and read all this and still think ‘Zucca’s a Nazi apologist!’ then I simply don’t know what to do with you... You are even more stubborn than the actual Nazis, two of whom I have turned away from the bloody ideology because I saw a person, a human being, trapped under the shield of lies.

And I broke them out. Because I knew then and know now that the best way to destroy the Nazis is not by killing Nazis.

It’s by killing Nazism as an idea.

There is no other way to do it with the hope of success.

Come on... we *BOTH* want to annihilate Nazism from the face of the globe. We just have different ideas on how it should be done.

You think people should be murdered at worst, impoverished at best.

I think people should be saved from Nazism.

At the very least, if you take nothing else away from this, then take this...

Treat the word ‘Nazi’ with the same care and respect a responsible gun owner treats their firearm.

Don’t just whip it out whenever you feel like it or you come across someone you don’t like.

Let words like ‘Nazi’, ‘Transphobe’, homophobe’ and such remain in the ammo box and kept high and dry for the day when one of those things ACTUALLY walks onto the scene.

And if you come across someone you disagree with, articulate that disagreement and don’t try to moralize things. Just use plain, simple facts. And if you still disagree, then do so civilly and accept that people are different.

Then maybe....

... just maybe...

... we can get along a little better on this mad, mad ride of a world.

What do you say...?

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porcelaindagger · 7 years ago

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since this won’t show in the tags from the actual blog

After speaking with some people privately, I had been under the impression that I had been doing a good enough job keeping my head down, minding my own business, and not making a fuss, but it’s evident that this is not the case. I have been back in the community for about a year now as Elle, and since then I have made every effort to use this new alias as an opportunity to turn over a new leaf, make a new start, and be an unobtrusive and altogether quiet presence in the community. I came back simply to write – not to make a fuss or make waves, and I was open and honest about my identity and my past mistakes with those who came to me to ask, and have a small group of people who know that I am Beth, who have known for quite some time now. It was not my intention to “fool” anyone by returning under a different alias, but to exercise the change that I’d implemented in my own life and to show both myself and those who I’d so horribly hurt in the past that I have changed, and that it is possible for people to change for the better. I think the fact that I’ve flown under the radar until now is decent proof that I am not the person I was a year ago; a year ago, I would have gone absolutely nuts in the face of the PSA that’s floating around, and I would have lashed out with irreparable damage – we all saw it happen last time, and it’s because of that that I was so determined not to do it this time. I understand completely why people would not want to be close to me given what I’ve done in the past; I lied, I talked about people behind their back, I pretended to be someone else to hide from what I’d done, I spread slanderous lies about someone who had been nothing but a dear friend to me, and I kept that same friend’s group from receiving the love and praise it deserved simply because I was bitter, paranoid, and malicious in my mindset. I was in a horrid place and going through a downward spiral in which I could not recover from – and though I knew I could not recover, I lashed out and pulled people down with me simply because it was the only option my toxic mindset gave me. I wrecked people who I’d considered family, who’d followed me through hell, high water, and two roleplay groups which ended with my complete meltdown. It was all building up from mistakes I’d made, even before that – in 2013, I copied things from a drabble someone had written; in 2015, I encouraged a friend to write a PSA about another friend simply because I felt that they were drifting from me, and I was so selfish and paranoid that I just couldn’t handle it. I was immature, and felt as if I didn’t have to own up to my mistakes, but as I see the error of hiding from this all and hoping that it’ll just blow over, I think that it’s time for me to put it out there. I was Wesley, I was Beth, and this blog was supposed to be Elle – the new leaf. Elle would never start a positivity blog, only to filter the messages; Elle would never send nasty messages; Elle would never vague blog; Elle would never strongarm someone out of playing the same character; and Elle would certainly never steal, though Beth once thought she could get away with it, and owned up to it.

In my personal life, the last semester has been an absolute trainwreck, and this blog, in my own corner with a small collective of people who I’d told, and in the roleplay groups that I’d chosen to join, was an oasis, and I am incredibly proud of the progress and of the changes that I’ve made in my life, as reflected by my unobtrusive and quiet presence in the RPC. I’ve done my best to be nothing but positive – and those who I’ve found myself close to can attest to that. I never thought of this attempt at a positive new start as an attempt to “trick” anyone with friendship and kindness, and I am so sorry that it’s come across as that, or as anything even remotely underhanded. I hoped that by being Elle and by starting over I could somewhat start to make right the wrong I’d done when I was Beth, and by being kind to those I’d wronged in any way I could, I thought that I was. I never intended for any of this to become a question of lies, victim shaming, or anything of the sort – I was just trying to keep my head down, and mind my own business. I’d even become close friends with one of the people I’d wronged in the past, proving to them that I’d changed before they even knew who I was, and I spoke to another, leaving things on what I assumed was a peaceful note. Perhaps it was a mistake to apply for a character that I’d played so often while I was using my old alias – but I never thought that it would start the wildfire that it did, since I’d been nothing but supportive in doing it. If anyone would like to message me privately, and not anonymously, to discuss the things that I have done, I would be more than willing to do so openly and frankly at my new url, which was created not to hide but to post fandom content rather than rp content without clogging up anyone’s dash.

I do, however, wish to address the claims of plagiarism that have been floating around, as this may be the only chance I have to do so. I understand that everyone’s concerns have merit; I have been a horribly sketchy person in the past, but the claims that are going around now are ones I hold issue with, and I’d like to address them here. Firstly, I’ll start with the claim that I plagiarized an OC from the group I used to run, Fidite Nemini. The character in question is named Holly – I don’t even remember the OC’s last name. A wonderful OC, written by a wonderful person; perhaps the best OC I ever had the pleasure of writing with. But the fact that I also have two characters named Holly is now being called plagiarism, and with this I take issue. First, I have Holly Blanchard, named as such for Holly Golightly. I’ll link her biography HERE. Second is a character in another roleplay that I ran named Holly Gilmore, who was named as such for the plant reference, and because I was going through a heavy Gilmore Girls phase at the time of writing her. Her bio is HERE. I cannot link you to the bio of the OC simply because I deleted the Fidite Nemini main and have no way of finding it. I don’t know where it is, I don’t know what her last name is; the only similarities between these characters is the fact that they’re named Holly and that they’re generally nice, sweet people. I can see how, upon first glance, having a character named Holly might raise some eyebrows, but upon actually reading the bios, it is quite clear that there is no other overlap.

I was also accused of stealing things from the person who played Bellatrix in my group – I cannot link anything here since the Fidite Nemini main has been deleted, but I used, in applying for a Marauders group recently, the bio that I, as an admin, had written as a jumping off point for an application. I’d gone through the old player’s blog to find the biography that I’d written since the main was deleted and I hadn’t saved anything for my own use, and I understand how that must have looked, but had I not deleted everything I could when I left Tumblr the first time. I’d be happy to dig through my google docs and link the application that I’d written up in this post, but I regrettably cannot access the Fidite Nemini bio anymore, or I would. The person who played Bellatrix at Fidite Nemini is, without question, one of the greatest writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of collaborating with, and I must say that it would be very obvious had I stolen from them, as their writing truly stands alone.

I would now like to address the claims that I stole a fair bit of characterization from the user who wrote the PSA about me. I’ll start by saying that yes, I did pin a few of their pins on Pinterest (but I went to a lot of Pinterest boards to create my own), and we have reblogged some of the same things – were I to remain a large presence in the RPC, I would make a point not to reblog musing from anywhere but inspo blogs to avoid this. But I must raise some issue with the claim that I stole a headcanon about sunflowers, a headcanon about running/athleticism, and a FC. I use flower symbolism in a fair number of my applications and characters, and this particular headcanon was written when I read the ProFlowers description of what sunflowers meant (in fact, at the time I was buying flowers for my grandmother, whose birthday I had forgotten, and thought sunflowers might be nice according to the description). I’ll link the headcanon HEREas it includes a link to the article. The running/athleticism headcanon is twofold – the graphic linked HERE is from a quiz which many people in the tag were using, and was therefore not my own doing. But I had put some stock in the character’s athleticism, since it’s both canon that she’d have to be athletic, and because the character is suffering, in the plot, from severe PTSD. It is often recommended to sufferers of PTSD, like myself, and like my combat veteran father, to put much of their anxiety into athleticism, as linked in the headcanon HERE. I put a lot of myself into my characters, and I thought that, as I am dealing with my own battle with PTSD, it would be appropriate to make a point of expanding upon it in the development of a character who very clearly has it. This is not copied and pasted from any blog, nor was it written in an attempt to mimic anyone else’s portrayal. And to insinuate that I am stealing simply because there is overlap in the usage of two face claims is also up for question – I will admit that I did take an interest in Lindsey Morgan as the character because the author of the PSA used her, and I commend you for your excellent FC choice. But the second mentioned, Deborah Ann Woll, is merely a coincidence, and I must take issue with the idea that face claims are exclusive.

In the PSA, it linked things from my old Alice blog that I’d recycled because I am who you all now know I am – were I trying to hide, I wouldn’t have done that. I’d have never been so obvious. I was too optimistic, I suppose, in that I’d kept my head down enough to play this character again, and I truly am so sorry for making you all uncomfortable, and for making you all feel as if I was trying to be devious by going under another alias. All I was doing was trying to mind my own business – and that is what I’m doing now, by turning my writing blog into a simple fandom blog. I’m even further in my corner now, and though I have no intention of leaving my corner, I thought it appropriate to leave this here as both an admittance of everything I’ve done, and a defense of the new character that I’ve built for myself. I understand that the PSA was made to warn people about someone horrible – but I’m not that person anymore. I have nothing but remorse for what I’ve done to those I’ve hurt, and I will never stop regretting the friendships that I destroyed. I considered so many of you my family, and I hurt you. It’s irreparable, and I will never ever stop trying to be a better person because of it. All I wanted was to turn over a new leaf, and to have fun writing with those I could reconnect with, and I apologize from the bottom of my heart for drudging up old hurts. I never want to hurt any of you again, and I never plan to. If anyone wishes to come talk to me about this, so I can explain and own up further, or if you would like a direct apology, I’m now at arhwen. I hope you’re all well, and finish out 2017 well, too.

#rpt #rpc #rph #rp #roleplay

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dwestfieldblog · 4 years ago

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REVELATION: 2021

...’Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth...see, the home of God is among the mortals.’ Hope you are staying sane. Meanwhile, from my war room (arf) inside a deep (astral) state within a non binary body...hallucinating realities...

Imagine, if you will, millions in a democratic country, who gladly make (and addictively want to) their private thoughts known via social media and are quite happy to tell random pollsters on the street their feelings on any subject of which they are asked. And plenty on which they are not. So pleased to be asked their righteous opinion, so ego led deluded that anybody might ‘like’ their words that they will spout the hatred their hearts feel on issues of the day and in their lives without a care where such information goes. They want to be heard and so, they are. Now imagine a computer driven listening and watching station with instructions from media masters, political leaders, and advertising companies paying close attention to the data gathered. Not actual facts as such but almost all emotion led opinions, collated to show the group mindset of a subsection of a country.

An algorithm can be created for what products would most likely appeal to that mass. Guns, (for random example), waterproof bibles, clothing for survivalists. You have direct knowledge of this already when You tube, your email, Alexa etc ‘suggest’ something you might/should like, based on what you have ordered, written, or spoken online. This year I have been getting dozens of spam emails for bad eyesight, Viagra type stuff and hair loss. HA. My age must be written somewhere. Not much stress on imagination to see how simple it is for organisations like the ex Cambridge Anal lytica etc to capture and utilise such info via Facebook. Or how enemies of a country could understand in no short order what makes a country really tick below the surface and how to manipulate those emotionally crippled, poorly educated AND those who seek power over others. Psychographic profiling...stop giggling at the back there...

Cui bono (who benefits) from seeding disorder? Follow the money, ‘it’s only business’. An algorithm which reveals just what people believe and who can then be exploited en masse as useful idiots to disrupt the usual inbred spastic normality of daily life in a human country. And it is dirt cheap because people WANT to reveal themselves and a rival country need only a minimum outlay of actual infiltrating agent provocateurs (many of whom will be actual natives.) A set up involving ‘sock puppets’ which serves the same purpose as APs...the legendary bots and fake identities rattling off tweets and false flag Facebook pages, rallying the disaffected faithful. ‘More evidence that the targeting works and predicts our behaviour’.

Now, once the group targets have been identified, seek out those among them who long for their moment of fame, their years of special importance and time of power. They will have already made clear their characters in online posts. Weakling Alpha types cowering their insecurities behind a loud voice. They hunger for followers, to be ‘liked’, (a basic larval human need for most) and admired for their rightness. Show them support, aid their voices to spread, mysterious donors for the message; Anybody not similar to you MUST be the opposite...and therefore, the enemy. Step by step, the daily hormone rush reprogrammes and the opinions become a self fulfilling prophecy, imprinting over all sense of reason. So now you have your moronic masses (and those dumb enough to want to lead them) most of whom are too stupid (or busy surviving) to realise they are being manipulated from afar by those who understand what is within and do not have their countries’ interests at heart. Bombarded with attack ads and propaganda... ‘Until they saw the world the way we want them to’...

Some of the leaders, big or small, will actually know they are puppets but will think it acceptable as long as they are given a little pat on the head via position and power. And a lot of money. Most, (whether mass or leader of such infiltrated countries) will be certain they are doing what they do in the name of Freedom and Democracy, while all the time, being used to further limit the same. Hilariously, bleakly, deathly ironic. From hubris to nemesis.

Yes, I am writing about Brexit and Trumpists and Q Onan. Et al, etc. Ad infinitum. Almost. Those in democratic countries who are ceaselessly working unbeknown to themselves against most of what they demand the most. ‘To take back control’. No children, you are creating a system where you will have less and less of this. ‘Follow the white rabbit’? No, you are following an algorithm in highly predictive patterns to those who own it and by extension, you.

‘I love my country!’ Do you? Why are you working free of charge for another who only wants to see your Union and partnerships broken? You vote for ridiculous men like Trump and Farrage because they are not the government and think you are rebel anarchists who will herald a new dawn of purifying flame...by substituting yet more slime who care only for their own power.

Someone points the finger, uses a trigger word and you do the Pavlov dog. Someone claps their hands and you pay unquestioning attention to their misinformation. Look over there, the world is being run by Satanic, child abusing faggot socialist liberals and foreign scum. Arf. So why are you obeying one of the above mentioned groups in the name of taking back control of your freedom? Because they already know how you will react. Because you created the infamous All Seeing eye yourselves by feeding information into the data base. Because you are so easy to trick into believing you are thinking for yourselves. ‘They’ don’t need to insert chips or vaccines with nano bots, they can just implant you with audio visual media and Nuremberg style rallies.

Take two blonde, fat stupid white men. Liars to the highest degree. One an entitled megalomaniac spoiled child and the other with half the megalomania. A glance at their track record and into their eyes should have told you all. Seems it didn’t. It took over four years and up to the week Trump left, for the rats to finally start jumping ship and for the band of the Titanic to start changing their tune. Twitter took four years to decide to cut off his fix. Nero played golf while America burned with Covid. 414,000 dead. Incitement to riot? Incitement to riot. Investigate his wannabe aristocratic family and do not allow his children anywhere near politics. Or Smug petulant Kusher anywhere near business.

Over 74 million still think Trump is a go to guy rather than a take a running jump at kicking him up his arse. He pardoned various criminals, including Bannon, (lest the fascist scuzzball fink on him)...and no pardon for Maxwell... who still could, unless she also should manage to ‘kill herself’ by accident fnord in prison. Seems likely Donald could run for office again, form his own party....What? Pence announced ‘Space Force’ personnel will be called Guardians; yes really...this year will see their first battle against the children of Thanos. Thanos, thy name is Trump. But lacking the compassion or humour.

Good morning to billionaire Mr Robert Mercer...a ‘Christian’ Conservative, gun lover, climate change denier, donor of over 100 million dollars to right wing candidates, 15 million of which went into Cambridge Analytica/Brexit and more to Breitbart and Trumps 2016 campaign. On the face of it, both he and his second daughter Rebekah would seem to have their fingers hard on many triggers of chaos, all of which serve only the rich and Russia. Breaking up partnerships, friendships, splitting unions and sowing discord. Check. Encouraging the working and middle class to merely shift their belief across to another band of disreputable rich guys by telling them how corrupt the other rich guys are. Look out! They might be Socialists! A lot of them are Europeans! They eat children and want immigrants to swarm over your town! Works like a charm. It would be so nice if billionaires would actually behave in a decent moral way (yes, sarcasm) and actually help out more, regardless of whether there is a return on their ‘charity’, instead of being the James Bond villain scum they act like.

And speaking of Q...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Arf. That narcissist prick in horns Jacob Chansley of Arizona...Shaman? Shame man. Bullhorn? Bullsh...t. No hanging lawmakers for you boy. He only eats organic food? So what? A lover of nature? Which is why he wears fur and horns and wishes death upon fellow Americans who are ‘traitors’. The Kremlin and Mercer have done a job as sweet as they did with Brexit divisions. Just let the rabid cretins do all their work for them splitting unions. Well, it’s what the CIA did so well against communism. Now it is our turn. Watching yanks and brits demand more control of their democracy while pulling it apart. Hilarious. Q Onan wanked their conspiracy to death and are now confused the Golden One has not led them to the revolution...not exactly levitating the Pentagon are you?

They believed the world is run by a paedo satan worshipping elite who plot against Trump and operate a global child sex trafficking ring. Yes really. So you can see how they appeal to the deranged righteous Christian gun toting hordes and internet savvy youth against the Deep State. Arf arf arf. The Kemlin will have studied key points as to what gets the average American and British goat and exploited it. People are so keen to share their beliefs, ideas and fears on social media that it is simple to collect and combine such info...(as happened with Cambridge Analytica) and use it for manipulating gain. Putin/Mercer probably told Trump the nature of the beast. ’If you want followers, do this...’Follow the algorithm. Dying covid patients continue to deny they even have it in South Dakota etc...that is how well the misinformation works.

Boris. A pathetic deal with Europe after an endless mantric blather of an ‘oven ready Brexit’. The chumocracy in full force as Ayanda Capital receive a 150 million pound PPE contract and provide no masks at all. And tax exile Tory donor (Lord) Ashcroft’s firm lands a 350 million pound vaccine contract (without a tendering process). Well, rather help a pal than put money into the National Health Service eh Boris? In 2019, the music industry brought in around 5.8 BILLION pounds, whereas the fishing industry netted (arf) 446 million. Sunak and Johnson have not seen fit to grant work permits for musicians to play in Europe and bands from outside will find it harder to get visas to tour in Plagueland. ‘Health’ secretary Matt Hancock said it was ‘Peculiarly unusual’ why British people went to work when they were ill. ‘Why in Britain do we think it’s acceptable to soldier on and go into work if you have flu symptoms...’Hmm. Germany pays 100 percent of sick pay. Czech Republic pays approx 60. The UK? 26. Good enough answer you prick? This guy also voted against food parcels for children, and then reversed only after an outcry.

The ever lovely Good Catholic William Rees Mogg called UNICEF’s feeding of poor English children during a pandemic at Christmas a ‘publicity stunt’. Hmm...well in 2019 the charity received 6.4 billion in contributions of which the Tory government of the UK donated 494 million. Perhaps UNICEF wanted to make a point that the UK has the largest number of food banks in the democratic world (over 2000, Germany has 900) and that it was a little beyond shameful that this was necessary. Still making money from selling birth control/termination pills in Indonesia after having said all contraception even in cases of rape was wrong Billy? The English gentleman also said he found the rise in food bank usage as being ‘rather uplifting’. Verrry Christian man. And that rotting British fish are ‘happier’ now out of Europe. A joke? The 2019 EU clampdown on tax avoidance will be avoided by him thanks to Brexit. Heavenly off shore interests, Glory! ‘How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God’. It easier for a camel to piss through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of god. Mark 10 21:25. Good luck Billy.

Met a Christian guy again who tried to tell me a parable of sorts. A little bird was flying and suddenly fell into a field dead, a cow walked over and took a dump on the little bird and the heat of the manure brought the bird back to life. Overjoyed he started to sing and was heard by a cat that killed it. The moral being, don’t interfere with God’s plan. I wondered if that had been where Christ went wrong...perhaps he should have left lepers to die...but obviously no...he was a special case. Aha, so nobody should try and help anybody ever if they have a problem or are suffering. No one should help their own children, no doctors or surgeons...but priests are allowed because the intermediaries through whom the pious live vicariously are essential workers. Great parable. If you believe in God, don’t help anyone else. That’s the story of Christ eh?

The man who told me the story also said Donald was a great guy...I need to remind him Trump has broken every single one of the Ten Commandments (apart from direct murder) The burning cross is a T for Trump... ‘The function of law and theology are the same: to keep the poor from taking back by violence what the rich have stolen by cunning’. ‘The function of theology? The recitation of the incomprehensible by the unspeakable to pick the pockets of the unthinking’. RAW. Natures God. Hilaritas Press.

The most wisdom from China since Confucius was tweeted several weeks ago to the smug frog like Nigel Farage who had written ‘Christmas cancelled. Thank you China.’ Upon which, the Middle Kingdom between Heaven and Earth replied ‘Wear a mask and stop talking s..t’. Wonderful...shame the state media Global Times then spoiled it by writing a pot/kettle article which suggested that such politicians...’care only about their political ambitions and see ordinary people as roadside grass.’ From a regime which mowed its own teenage children down in tank fire, ran over their bodies and sent the price of the bullets used in the execution of young rebels to their parents.

Meanwhile, back in the temple of ketamine far away from all that nonsense... Universe will respond non locally to my thought...All pure chance as exists cross divided in all encircling mode, arf...non-local effects...’the ‘maybe’ in between ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in Quantum Logic, of ‘solid’ ‘objects’ that are superimpositions of waves, according to one quantum model, and of ‘minds’ that are superimpositions of waves if the ‘minds’ are transactions involving brains and the brains are made of cells which are made of atoms which are made of electrons which are superimpositions of waves’. RAW THE NEW INQUISITION. Yes. And...

The hidden variable theory of consciousness asserts (1) there is a subquantal level beneath the observational/theoretical structure of ordinary quantum mechanics; (2) events occurring on this subquantal level are the elements of sentient being. Drs Walker and Herbert.

‘Consciousnesses in this model is not ‘in’ our heads. Our brains are merely local receivers ‘consciousnesses ‘is’ ‘an aspect of the non-local field’ The ‘ego’ then is the locally tuned in aspect of this usually not-tuned-in non local field.

‘...we find that our consciousness controls physical events though the laws of quantum mechanics.’ Magick. Rise in Love, ‘arouse the coiled splendour within you’ :-)

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batterymonster2021 · 5 years ago

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The danger of a single story | Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-danger-of-a-single-story-chimamanda-ngozi-adichie-8/

The danger of a single story | Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I am a storyteller. And i wish to inform you a number of personal studies about what I prefer to name "the hazard of the only story." I grew up on a school campus in japanese Nigeria. My mother says that I began studying on the age of two, even though I suppose 4 is mostly close to the reality. So I used to be an early reader, and what I read had been British and American kid’s books. I was once additionally an early writer, and once I started out to jot down, at concerning the age of seven, reports in pencil with crayon illustrations that my poor mom was once obligated to read, I wrote precisely the varieties of reports I was once reading: All my characters have been white and blue-eyed, they played in the snow, they ate apples, (Laughter) they usually talked rather a lot in regards to the climate, how beautiful it was that the solar had come out. (Laughter) Now, this although that I lived in Nigeria. I had under no circumstances been outside Nigeria. We did not have snow, we ate mangoes, and we under no circumstances talked about the climate, for the reason that there was once no ought to.My characters additionally drank plenty of ginger beer, when you consider that the characters in the British books I learn drank ginger beer. In no way mind that I had no notion what ginger beer was. (Laughter) And for a long time afterwards, i’d have a determined desire to style ginger beer. But that’s a different story. What this demonstrates, I think, is how impressionable and prone we are within the face of a narrative, exceptionally as children. On account that all I had read have been books wherein characters have been foreign, I had come to be convinced that books via their very nature had to have foreigners in them and needed to be about things with which I would no longer individually identify.Now, things transformed when I found out African books. There weren’t lots of them to be had, and they weren’t relatively as easy to search out because the international books. However on account that of writers like Chinua Achebe and Camara Laye, I went by way of a mental shift in my perception of literature. I realized that men and women like me, ladies with epidermis the color of chocolate, whose kinky hair might not kind ponytails, would additionally exist in literature. I began to put in writing about things I famous. Now, I loved these American and British books I learn. They stirred my creativeness. They spread out new worlds for me. But the unintended final result was once that i didn’t know that humans like me might exist in literature. So what the discovery of African writers did for me was this: It saved me from having a single story of what books are. I come from a traditional, core-class Nigerian loved ones.My father was a professor. My mother used to be an administrator. And so we had, as was once the norm, live-in home aid, who would normally come from nearby rural villages. So, the year I grew to become eight, we obtained a new condominium boy. His name was once Fide. The only thing my mother told us about him used to be that his loved ones was once very bad. My mom sent yams and rice, and our historical clothes, to his family. And once I did not conclude my dinner, my mom would say, "finish your meals! Don’t you already know? Folks like Fide’s family have nothing." So I felt colossal pity for Fide’s loved ones. Then one Saturday, we went to his village to visit, and his mom confirmed us a fantastically patterned basket product of dyed raffia that his brother had made. I was once startled. It had no longer befell to me that any individual in his family could virtually make anything. All I had heard about them used to be how bad they had been, in order that it had grow to be inconceivable for me to look them as something else but terrible.Their poverty used to be my single story of them. Years later, I idea about this after I left Nigeria to go to college in the USA. I used to be 19. My American roommate used to be stunned through me. She requested where I had realized to communicate English so well, and was burdened once I mentioned that Nigeria occurred to have English as its authentic language. She requested if she could take heed to what she known as my "tribal song," and was once for that reason very dissatisfied after I produced my tape of Mariah Carey. (Laughter) She assumed that i did not comprehend how to use a stove. What struck me was once this: She had felt sorry for me even before she saw me. Her default role towards me, as an African, was a kind of patronizing, well-which means pity. My roommate had a single story of Africa: a single story of catastrophe. In this single story, there used to be no likelihood of Africans being much like her in any way, no possibility of feelings more complicated than pity, no possibility of a connection as human equals.I need to say that earlier than I went to the U.S., I did not consciously determine as African. But in the U.S., each time Africa got here up, humans turned to me. Never intellect that I knew nothing about areas like Namibia. But I did come to include this new identification, and in lots of methods I believe of myself now as African. Even though I still get really irritable when Africa is known as a nation, the most up to date illustration being my in any other case exceptional flight from Lagos two days ago, where there was once an announcement on the Virgin flight in regards to the charity work in "India, Africa and different nations." (Laughter) So, after I had spent some years in the U.S.As an African, i began to appreciate my roommate’s response to me. If I had no longer grown up in Nigeria, and if all I knew about Africa were from preferred snap shots, I too would believe that Africa was a position of beautiful landscapes, beautiful animals, and incomprehensible men and women, combating senseless wars, demise of poverty and AIDS, unable to speak for themselves and waiting to be saved by using a type, white foreigner. I’d see Africans in the equal method that I, as a baby, had visible Fide’s loved ones. This single story of Africa eventually comes, I consider, from Western literature. Now, here’s a quote from the writing of a London merchant known as John Lok, who sailed to west Africa in 1561 and saved a fascinating account of his voyage. After regarding the black Africans as "beasts who don’t have any residences," he writes, "they’re also folks with out heads, having their mouth and eyes in their breasts." Now, I’ve laughed each time I’ve learn this. And one have got to admire the creativeness of John Lok. However what is major about his writing is that it represents the opening of a culture of telling African experiences in the West: A culture of Sub-Saharan Africa as a position of negatives, of difference, of darkness, of people who, in the words of the distinct poet Rudyard Kipling, are "half of satan, half of little one." And so, i began to realise that my American roommate have got to have throughout her life visible and heard specific models of this single story, as had a professor, who once told me that my novel was once now not "authentically African." Now, I was once particularly willing to contend that there were a quantity of things incorrect with the unconventional, that it had failed in a number of places, but I had not fairly imagined that it had failed at attaining something called African authenticity.In fact, i did not recognize what African authenticity was. The professor told me that my characters were an excessive amount of like him, an trained and center-type man. My characters drove cars. They weren’t ravenous. For this reason they weren’t authentically African. However I need to rapidly add that I too am simply as guilty within the question of the single story. A few years ago, I visited Mexico from the U.S. The political climate within the U.S. On the time was stressful, and there were debates occurring about immigration.And, as in general occurs in america, immigration grew to become synonymous with Mexicans. There have been unending reviews of Mexicans as people who had been fleecing the healthcare process, sneaking throughout the border, being arrested at the border, that kind of factor. I don’t forget going for walks round on my first day in Guadalajara, looking at the individuals going to work, rolling up tortillas in the marketplace, smoking, laughing. I recollect first feeling slight shock. And then, I was overwhelmed with shame. I realized that I had been so immersed in the media coverage of Mexicans that that they had become one factor in my mind, the abject immigrant. I had purchased into the single story of Mexicans and that i would not had been more ashamed of myself. So that’s how you can create a single story, exhibit a individuals as one thing, as just one thing, over and over again, and that’s what they grow to be.It’s unimaginable to speak concerning the single story with out talking about vigor. There’s a phrase, an Igbo phrase, that I think about each time I feel concerning the energy constructions of the arena, and it’s "nkali." it’s a noun that loosely interprets to "to be larger than one more." Like our economic and political worlds, reviews too are outlined with the aid of the principle of nkali: How they’re told, who tells them, when they may be told, what number of reports are instructed, are really stylish on power. Vigour is the capability now not simply to tell the story of a further individual, but to make it the definitive story of that character. The Palestinian poet Mourid Barghouti writes that if you want to dispossess a persons, the easiest strategy to do it’s to tell their story and to start with, "secondly." start the story with the arrows of the Native americans, and no longer with the appearance of the British, and you’ve got an wholly one-of-a-kind story.Begin the story with the failure of the African state, and not with the colonial construction of the African state, and you have an wholly unique story. I lately spoke at a tuition where a scholar instructed me that it was once the sort of disgrace that Nigerian men have been bodily abusers like the father persona in my novel. I informed him that I had just read a novel known as "American Psycho" — (Laughter) — and that it was such a shame that young american citizens were serial murderers. (Laughter) (Applause) Now, obviously I said this in a match of mild inflammation. (Laughter) but it could never have happened to me to suppose that just for the reason that I had learn a novel where a character used to be a serial killer that he used to be come what may consultant of all americans. This is not on the grounds that i’m a greater person than that student, but considering the fact that of america’s cultural and economic vigour, I had many experiences of the usa.I had read Tyler and Updike and Steinbeck and Gaitskill. I did not have a single story of the usa. Once I realized, some years in the past, that writers have been anticipated to have had relatively sad childhoods to be effective, i started to believe about how I could invent horrible matters my mum and dad had completed to me. (Laughter) however in fact that I had an awfully glad childhood, filled with laughter and love, in an awfully shut-knit family. But I additionally had grandfathers who died in refugee camps. My cousin Polle died considering the fact that he might no longer get enough healthcare. One among my closest friends, Okoloma, died in a plane crash when you consider that our fire trucks didn’t have water. I grew up below repressive navy governments that devalued education, so that oftentimes, my mom and dad weren’t paid their salaries.And so, as a youngster, I saw jam disappear from the breakfast table, then margarine disappeared, then bread grew to become too high-priced, then milk grew to be rationed. And most of all, a style of normalized political fear invaded our lives. All of those stories make me who i am. But to insist on best these terrible stories is to flatten my experience and to overlook the many other reviews that formed me. The single story creates stereotypes, and the predicament with stereotypes is just not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the one story. Of path, Africa is a continent filled with catastrophes: There are immense ones, such as the horrific rapes in Congo and depressing ones, equivalent to the fact that 5,000 humans practice for one job vacancy in Nigeria. But there are other reviews that aren’t about catastrophe, and it is vitally predominant, it is only as main, to talk about them.I’ve invariably felt that it is unimaginable to have interaction thoroughly with a place or a person with out attractive with all of the reviews of that place and that person. The outcome of the one story is this: It robs individuals of dignity. It makes our awareness of our equal humanity difficult. It emphasizes how we are special as an alternative than how we’re similar. So what if before my Mexican trip, I had followed the immigration debate from all sides, the U.S. And the Mexican? What if my mom had informed us that Fide’s household was poor and hardworking? What if we had an African television network that broadcast numerous African studies far and wide the arena? What the Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe calls "a balance of studies." What if my roommate knew about my Nigerian publisher, Muhtar Bakare, a great man who left his job in a financial institution to follow his dream and begin a publishing residence? Now, the conventional knowledge used to be that Nigerians don’t read literature.He disagreed. He felt that humans who would learn, would learn, should you made literature low-cost and available to them. Rapidly after he released my first novel, I went to a tv station in Lagos to do an interview, and a lady who worked there as a messenger got here as much as me and mentioned, "I rather liked your novel. I didn’t like the ending. Now, you need to write a sequel, and that is what will occur …" (Laughter) and she went on to inform me what to put in writing in the sequel.I was no longer only charmed, I used to be very moved. Right here was a girl, part of the traditional masses of Nigerians, who were not presupposed to be readers. She had now not best learn the guide, but she had taken possession of it and felt justified in telling me what to write down in the sequel. Now, what if my roommate knew about my buddy Funmi Iyanda, a fearless girl who hosts a television exhibit in Lagos, and is decided to tell the reports that we opt for to forget? What if my roommate knew in regards to the heart approach that was carried out within the Lagos hospital last week? What if my roommate knew about ultra-modern Nigerian tune, talented people singing in English and Pidgin, and Igbo and Yoruba and Ijo, mixing influences from Jay-Z to Fela to Bob Marley to their grandfathers.What if my roommate knew about the feminine lawyer who lately went to courtroom in Nigeria to assignment a ridiculous regulation that required women to get their husband’s consent before renewing their passports? What if my roommate knew about Nollywood, filled with innovative humans making movies regardless of nice technical odds, movies so widespread that they really are the excellent instance of Nigerians drinking what they produce? What if my roommate knew about my wonderfully ambitious hair braider, who has just began her own industry promoting hair extensions? Or about the thousands of alternative Nigerians who start corporations and typically fail, however continue to nurse ambition? Whenever i am residence i am confronted with the common sources of infection for most Nigerians: our failed infrastructure, our failed government, but in addition with the aid of the extremely good resilience of individuals who thrive regardless of the federal government, alternatively than for the reason that of it. I instruct writing workshops in Lagos each summer, and it’s potent to me what number of persons follow, what number of persons are keen to jot down, to tell studies.My Nigerian publisher and i have simply started a non-profit known as Farafina believe, and we have now massive goals of building libraries and refurbishing libraries that exist already and supplying books for state schools that should not have whatever of their libraries, and also of organizing tons and plenty of workshops, in reading and writing, for the entire folks who’re keen to tell our many reviews. Stories topic. Many reviews topic. Studies have been used to dispossess and to malign, but experiences will also be used to empower and to humanize.Studies can break the honour of a people, but studies may additionally repair that damaged dignity. The American writer Alice Walker wrote this about her Southern relatives who had moved to the North. She introduced them to a booklet about the Southern lifestyles that they’d left at the back of. "They sat round, studying the publication themselves, being attentive to me learn the guide, and a kind of paradise used to be regained." I want to finish with this inspiration: That after we reject the one story, once we comprehend that there’s on no account a single story about any place, we regain a style of paradise.Thank you. (Applause) .

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