#mother’s day vibes wahoo

[blistexenthusiast]

Natalie Baxter, Ribbons

[smolvenger]

Miss Narracott and The Captain Part Six (Cpn. James Nicholls x fem! Reader Mini- Series)

Fandom: War Horse

Word Count: 7K

Chapter Warnings: LOTS of fluff, some angst. Mentions of sex and though parts get steamy, no smut.

Series Summary: It is 1914. You are Y/N Narracott, the older sister of Albert Narracott. You must do what you can so your family can keep their farm. And so your brother can keep his beloved horse. Under financial struggles, you never expect romance to come into your life...until you have a chance encounter with James Nicholls- a Captain with a knack for drawing. But the threat of war lingers in the air...

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven Coming Soon!

A/N: Comments, Reblogs, DMs, and Asks about my work are always appreciated! Y'all ready for a wedding chapter!!! Wahoo!!! *tosses confetti* Also, I know the above gif is of a white woman, which I used because the vibes. But I intend for the Reader or Y/N in my all of fics to be written as neutral in regards to their race. And if I ever mess up and make their physical appearance not neutral, please call me out. Feel free to ask to be tagged in this and/or my other stuff! Thank you!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract

@eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @12-pm-510

The church bells began to ring at six o clock. That used to be Albert’s job when he was a younger boy. He would run down every Sunday morning, reach up, and pull the bells to peel their beautiful sounds. They were clanging as you walked out to home. They didn’t stop when you arrived home. Their echoes used to make you smile at the picture of little Albert reaching for the tall ropes. Now…not so much. Though you heard they would not ring until the war had finished. Their last echo vanished into the air like a dying butterfly.

You had yet to hear from James. But you could not hold a grudge against him. This was the time he trained for.

The next morning, when you walked down to work, the townspeople were out and excited. It was like a holiday. People were waving flags out of windows. There were stations out there to recruit any able-bodied young man to join. Bands played music with loud trumpets in the square. Children got brooms and marched around in pretend parades about the square. “Shoot the Germans,” you noticed was a popular game among them. Even amidst your shift, it was hard not to notice.

But out the window of the shop for those two days, you saw him. James. You could even hear his voice as the army brought supplies and young men signed up. Any quiet minute you indulged in looking out. And you knew he would spy on you through the window as well from outside. So much unspoken. He would tip his hat at you and smile. And you would smile and nod at him. Then one hour, when no one else was watching you, you would take your hand to your lips and blow a small kiss at him. He would “catch” it. Placing his hand over the left pocket on his chest. Where your glove remained- a love token from you to him. Then you would return to work with a grin.

Though the second day became packed with customers shopping out of panic. You did not look out the window for James as much.

But you knew something happened when you returned home. Walking inside to greet your parents, you saw your mother staring out the windows, blankly. And Father with paper money in his hand, counting them out. But he frowned.

You heard a sob from outside.

Though once you walked out, you saw the horse area was empty except for Albert. He was sitting on the grass, hugging his legs, and crying. You rushed over, kneeling down and touching your brother’s arm.

“Albie…what…what is it? Did something happen?” you asked.

He wiped off his face with his sleeve, but still teary.

“Joey’s sold! Dad sold him off to the war for the rent!” he mourned.

“What! No! He didn’t!” you cried.

“He did, Y/N! He did!!”

You hugged your brother as he cried. Rubbing his back, he shook from the tears. And you found yourself crying as well.

“I can’t believe it…Joey…Poor Joey…” you murmured.

“How’s he gonna fare in the war!? How!” Albert wailed.

“I…I don’t know…oh, Albert…this is a nightmare!”

You looked at the empty fields where Joey once trotted. You would miss him. You would miss his neighing and gallops and “spirited” kicking. And how happy he made Albert.

Though, not long after, you saw a head walking up and going through the gate. And your heart stopped in place- Captain James Nicholls had arrived. Before you could say a word, Albert ran up in a sprint.

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not here to return Joey. Not yet- I’m sorry,” James said.

“But why else would you come here, sir!?” Albert cried.

Return Joey? You thought.  So, it was James himself who bought him! Oh, thank goodness! Of all the people in the army Joey could have been purchased by, there was no one better! Yes, there was no one better than Nicholls. He looked over at you, taking off his cap.

“And how are you, Miss Narracott?” he asked with a warm smile.

“I’m better, thank you, sir,” you answered.

Nicholls knocked on the door. Your father opened it and greeted him. Then James took a step inside. You began clutching your skirt as the captain turned to your father, finally.

“Mr. Narracott…I’d like to speak to you in private, please. It’s not about Joey. No…I’d like to speak on something different…”

It felt as if the earth stopped on its axis. Your heart picked up though you stood still.  Mother’s eyes lit up as she turned over.

“Well, if it’s important for him, it’s important for me! I’d like to stay and speak with you too! Let’s just say I learned my lesson from last time!” Mum insisted, crossing her arms.

James smiled at her and nodded.

“Oh, there is no problem at all! Of course, you can, Mrs. Narracott,”

She looked out at you and Albert outside.

“Well, you two scurry along. We’ll call you when we’re done,” she dismissed.

Though there was a little smile as she closed the door. Once it clicked shut, Albert walked forward and pressed an ear to it.

You could feel yourself getting warmer. It was a giddiness from thrill, not from dread this time. You went over to the garden to look after the plants and flowers. As you took your water can, you watched Albert’s face. His eyes became big, and he dropped his jaw as he listened. Then he went over to you.

“Why…Y/N! You and Nicholls are-are-…Do you think he’s…. he’s here to…to…?”

You gave him a smile, a small laugh escaping you from excitement and nerves.

“Albert…I don’t want to keep this a secret from you anymore…” you started.

He put two hands on each of your shoulders.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

You began to well up a few tears as you nodded.

“And he loves me, Albie. He loves me!”

He hugged you again. You heard a small laugh in his voice.

“Why, who else but my sister could get two fellows asking for her hand in a month?” he teased.

 Finally, the door opened and both of you jumped. You even clutched his hand to keep your own from shaking. You wondered if you would burst at once. James walked forward; he kept his cap off.

“Could I please speak to your daughter in private?” asked James.

Your father nodded.

“Oh-of course!” he said.

Your mother took Albert and dragged him inside the house. 

"How long have we known each other, Y/N?"

"Two years," you replied.

"Sometimes it felt like last week you discovered my book."

"I feel the same. And with the war, you have to go there soon to fight,” you continued.

"I do," he said.

      The sun was setting, casting orange and pink across the sky, giving it a glow about the garden. A few tomatoes, carrots, peas, and other vegetables emerged from the storm. There were also your flowers. Summer roses, forget-me-nots, daisies, violets, and crocuses for your beloved rabbits. They grew about the space and filled the light air with their fresh scent. You felt the warmth of the leftover sun with the cool breeze of the coming night. He looked so beautiful by the flowers and glow of the peaceful hour.

"We know I will have to leave soon. And I do not look forward to it. I will miss many things about this place-you most of all. Y/N. Your presence is always there in my memory. My duty calls me over, yet you pull me like a string to you. And if this is a spell done by magic, I wish not to be freed of it. Not free from the beautiful, sweet, wonderful woman from Devon, no."

      There was only the clucking of the chickens in the back. He began to tap his foot; his own fingers were twitching. You clutched your skirt in a fistful, your breath tight in your chest. Though both of you were smiling. A few words. A few words more... you silently urged him.

      You walked out to the back- among the garden, the budding flowers, and plants.

“Y/N, I will tell you. Your feelings for me have not changed, have they?”

“They haven’t. I still love you, James.”

He took your hand. You could feel they were clammy. He began to stutter.

“Uh…Miss Y/N, I…I…I don’t even know what I can say to you…”

He looked up at you. And took a deep breath.

“I don’t even know where to begin with this!”

“Then one thing at a time,” you prodded.

You looked into his eyes and he into yours. It seemed each second was growing. He then glanced down at the ground and then up. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

“I have my reasons for saying this. And saying this now. I’m not a wealthy man, but I promised your father you’d never go hungry. And I told your parents that should I die, you would have what fortune I possess. As well as the respect that is due to the wife of a captain…”

“The wife of a captain?” you repeated with a smile.

He relaxed, taking both your hands in his.

“Y/N, would you like to marry me?” he asked.

A small gasp went out of you, and you smiled. His jaw trembling, he added on.

"Your father gave me his permission. And your mother gave us her blessing."

 “Yes…. yes, I will!” you answered, happy tears welling up your eyelids.

You drew him into an embrace, and he hugged you back. Both of you breathed in. Feeling each other’s arms and the breath of each other. He took both your hands and kissed them again in complete reverence. Worship even.

 "I love you; Y/N. Would you like me to be your husband? Would you like to marry me?"

He hugged you again, both of you enjoying the feeling and presence of each other.

"Could I kiss you?" he asked.

"I've wanted to kiss you for ages! Of course!" you said.

He put one hand on your cheek and kissed you. He smelled of the day's sweat, but his lips felt light as a feather. You placed your hands on his arms to deepen it, to make it a kiss between lovers. It was released with a faint, wet click. Perhaps your whole family was watching now from the window. But now, you did not care. You both could not stop smiling.

“Let’s go back…” you suggested.

You returned arm in arm, smiling. Dad let out a small laugh at the sight.

“Well, Nicholls, in just a week you got my horse and my girl!”

Albert’s eyes widened at the point. But he smiled and you laughed.

“You will still have me for a while!” you assured him.

Engagement! You! Engaged! To James of all people.

“But everyone…let’s sit down. There’s one thing we must discuss now that you’ve said yes, dear,” Mum urged.

She let out a deep sigh, folding her hands.

“Should we wait until the time you are off duty, or the war is done for the wedding? Or…”

“Or…” you prodded.

“Or should we marry you off soon as we can?”

It made everything freeze except for the crickets outside. Your mother shrugged.

“That way, should something happen to James, you will be fit to inherit all that’s his as his widow…”

They looked at you. Your heart knew the right answer. The practical answer. The frightening answer. You wanted to have him. To call him yours. Even if it was for only a little time. You and James looked at each other. He offered his hand, and you took it.

“Then…then I don’t think we have time to lose. We’ll marry before he leaves.” You decided.

“I second it,” James agreed.

Your father shook James’s hand. And then your parents embraced him as their son-in-law. And Albert as his brother-in-law. He stayed for a simple supper, then kissed you goodnight, and left.

James and your father told you the next day that the church said were available in a week. And the court announced it would have documents and contracts to solidify the union. And that was that. Enough to plan a modest ceremony. Now there would be nothing legally or under the heavens that would deny you both as a couple.

You asked your work friends if they would be your bridesmaids. They all agreed and congratulated and embraced you. Even Mrs. Snow was delighted and said her congrats and wished you well, with a smile on her face. You promised to invite her to the wedding.

Each time you arrived home, there was much excitement. There were never as many visitors as you had before! It seemed any neighbor and family member in town had to stop by to say congrats. Or to lend a helping hand for decorating and cooking and donations for the ceremony. There was always a knock on the door and someone new for Harold to chase and nip at. Albert cried far less- for the whirlwind of a quick wedding kept him too occupied to mourn Joey.

One day there was a knock on the door and there James appeared with his family. Despite your nerves about impressing them, they were warm and friendly.

“He’s talked and written about you a hundred times. He went to us and said he wanted to marry you. And you’ve had our blessing since,” his mother recalled with a sweet smile.  

It was the second day James was there at your work. Your friends stood in the back, smiling, and enjoying your love by proxy.

“Would you like to walk with me a little today?” he asked.

“Yes, I would,” you agreed, taking his arm.

Now you and James could walk alone for as long as you wanted to discuss everything as you pleased. For now, no one was going to separate an engaged couple. And discuss ideas about your future together.

“We’re going to stay in a small cottage near the headquarters as I train. But when I’m in France...I’m not sure where you could go.  You could stay with your family, as always.”

“Then where will we be when you get back? I doubt my little bedroom is too full of my old dolls and stuffed toys when I was a girl! Hardy fitting for a captain!” you teased.

He had a little laugh at that.

 “I live in Somerset and that is only an hour’s drive away. Would you…would you like to stay there when I return? I will find us a home. Or perhaps…perhaps…would you like to stay with my mother? Even for a while? You can return to your parents whenever you’d like,” he reasoned.

“They’re my family too now, James.”

You took a pause on the cobbled streets of the town and squeezed his hand.

“I’d like to move to Somerset. Stay with your family until we can find a home of our own. If I decide I must return to my parents and brother, I can always do so…” you reasoned.

You were about to be a wife. You wanted to believe in yourself as such. Step into it, scary as it seemed.

Then while discussing things like ribbons and flowers and what food to eat you began to pack your bags. Your heart raced- the Narracott farm was all you knew. It had the hill you and Albert would sled on in the winter. The steps you loved for whoever’s steps were on it you could guess who was coming down. The old fireplace where you’d listen to each other and talk. Oh, and then it wouldn’t be your home! A different place with different people!

But you had to face it. You were not a child anymore. And as loved as it was- you would have a new space. You would always love your family. But you loved James too. And without your family- who were you, even? So much was built around them. Now once you left, you would find out more about who you were. It would be scary. But many people- women especially- faced it now. Getting married and leaving home. Something so common, but so extraordinary. Even though it was Somerset and not the other end of the earth, you would learn.

The two of you passed by the auctioning circle the next day. Another large group had gathered.  This time, a red Irish Hunter horse led by one young man was up for grabs. Both of you slowed to admire the creature prancing in a circle for the bidders. The auctioneer began to boast the benefits of the horse. His head turned towards James. Then a mischievous smile formed in his teeth.

“Why- look at him!” announced the auctioneer from his block. “He’s red and blushing brighter than Captain Nicholls on his wedding night!” he announced teasingly.

The crowd erupted in bawdy laughter and even clapped. James’s cheeks did turn pink, and he dipped his head down, saying nothing. You only laughed and kept a hand over your mouth- both embarrassed and delighted. In all honesty, you thought it was funny.

Though those conversations were for when both of you were alone. Where not even a passing stranger could overhear. Both of you walked by the river. Words only for the babbling waters to hear.

“I know what happens in a bed with a husband and wife but…James…I…uhm…”

“I won’t expect it of you. I won’t demand it of you. You can take your time, my dear. I’ll wait until you say yes. Until you know without doubt it’s what you want…”

Then kissed your hand.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

At church that Sunday, you did have some nerves facing Mr. Lyons, seeing you wrapped around the arm of the Captain. But the landlord only tipped his hat and said congratulations. Miss Corbyn too stifled any harsh words to offer congrats as well. Though her head turned and it seemed that she was talking a lot to other soldiers. Her voice was softer, and she did not speak with a secret venom. And it seemed many of them smiled flirtatiously at her company. Thank goodness!

You had a cousin from Mum’s side in town who was your size. She had a wedding dress to spare. And though it was a touch out of the current style, you liked it.

You wouldn’t believe it when you walked that Friday morning down to the shop, it would be your last day of work. Mary ran up and embraced you.

“I know there wasn’t time for a full party between us-so I made us all lunch together and a bridal party cake!” she announced with a chirrup.

It was a tradition for the bride and bridesmaids to eat lunch and have a cake full of little silver charms inside. As you got to the cake, all of you took your slice and dug with your spoons. As lovely as the vanilla smelled, you had to see what charm landed in your slices! And to not accidentally swallow one! And what a miracle it was- there was a charm in each of your slices.

Alice gasped when she spooned out a heart. Then she reached over to the booklet that explained their meanings.

“That means true love!” she bragged.

Ida uncovered a horseshoe.

“I got the good luck one!” she announced, peering over the booklet.

It was Mary who got out a ring.

“That’s odd- this one is blissful marriage! That should be yours, Y/N!” she said.

Though as you dug through your slice of cake, resisting the urge to eat it, you uncovered an anchor.

“What does it mean, Alice?” you asked.

She got out the booklet and flipped the page.

“That means adventure!” she explained.

“I guess it is an adventure- getting married and leaving home,” you reasoned.

But you uncovered a second charm. A key- a happy home. You hoped your new home would be a happy one. A new one. And even a brief one. But no! The home of happiness. A home shared by you and the man you loved.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The day of the wedding finally arrived. All of you were a running bunch about the house that day. The smells from the kitchen wafted up to your room. Your bridesmaids put on their nicest dresses, as did your mother. Bright colors of purple, yellow, pink, and light blues. Your father and brother were kept out as they fixed your hair as you wanted. Shutting the door as all of you burst into chuckling.  From nerves? Excitement? Very likely both.

Your teacup shook a little in its saucer when your wedding dress was brought out of its trunk and laid flat on the bed. They all flew around you like bees to share your excitement. It was Alice who had the honor of picking out your flowers to make a bouquet. All of them set their hats- large brimmed and decorated with flowers- on your bed. Your last day to sleep in it as a single woman. Your last day in your childhood home.

 You put on the gown with their help. It was a shade of white that fits you, and it was frothy and soft. A confectionary of lace.  It even had little white flowers sewn as decorations. For a final touch, you added long, white gloves.  You could hardly believe the reflection in the mirror. You saw lace on your sleeves. Then Mary secured the veil over your head. A headpiece with the long veil itself draping down behind your head to where it touched the skirt of the gown. You seemed ethereal- a being not of this world. Perhaps an angel or a fairy or a benign ghost even.

“Oh- how lovely you look, Y/N!” Ida sighed.

Your mother stood behind you, looking at the reflection too.

“I agree! There’s my girl…all grown up and ready…” she cooed as you both looked in the mirror.

You turned around and then her eyes softened.

“Be sure to talk to Albert, today. Yes, it’s your day, but have a heart for him- no horse and no sister. It’s a big change for him.”

“I will…Mum…but I…I can’t blame him. I will miss you! All of you!” you said, turning to your friends.

“I’ll miss you too, girl. But I thank the heavens you refused Lyons!” she said.

You burst into laughter. To think if you said yes by now, this wedding would be to that odious man! Then it would be nowhere near as happy!

 “James is a wonderful man. He’ll treat you well. You made the right choice…and remember. You’re not out of town yet. And when you’re over there… we’re only the next town away,” she consoled.

You hugged them tightly.

Then you walked down the steps. Down on the kitchen table were Father and Albert. Dressed up as they could be in their nicest suits. Though you saw Albert’s eyes remained puffy. They both stood up and their eyes widened at the sight of you in your dress.

 You went over to your brother. You took his hand.

“Albie. You don’t hate me, do you? Leaving you?” you questioned.

He shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t! It’s not that I want you to be happy, I do!” he said.

“And you don’t begrudge James about me or Joey?” you asked.

“No! It’s just…it will be quiet without you…” he sighed.

You wrapped him into a hug.

“I’ll write to you every week I can. I’m only a letter away…”

You pulled out from the hug, an idea making you smile.

“Albie…you do realize that I’m about to marry Joey’s temporary owner!” you reasoned.

He perked up.

“You have an excuse to visit the army base now. You can see both of us- Joey and me! You can still see him for a week after this!” you said.

He then put a hand on your shoulder.

“Then I’ll see him- but I’d go over to town if it meant just seeing my old sister!”

You hugged him again. Once you released, he began to grin.

“What’s that metaphor you like- ‘shiny as a smile at a wedding?’ Do you think we’ll all be shiny today?”

“You already are, Y/N,” he said.

Then your father adjusted your veil to be over your face as you fixed the flowers in his breast pocket. Alice handed you the bouquet. You heard the clock chime the time. Three-thirty in the afternoon. Only half an hour until the ceremony began. And outside, there you heard the rumble of a motorcar, driven by a young lieutenant to deliver you to church.

“Are you ready, my girl?” father asked.

“Ready as I can be,” you answered.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The birdsong was like flutes today outside. What had you for an orchestra of the finest musicians? They were there to sing. The hour of the ceremony began. Your heart raced and your bridesmaids all smiled at you. Your father squeezed your hand. Outside, the sun was bright and puffy clouds, white and frothy as your dress, glided across the blue sky.

The church was humbly decorated. You knew that from the hours you spent helping and planning and from your peeks between the doors. There was not much you could afford for a quick wedding. But many people piled in a few coins here and there and offered to decorate. It was filled with beautiful wildflowers among the windows. The candles stood tall. And there were a few spare ribbons for bows for the front pews. It was not grand, but pretty. Besides, you figured it was more important to marry the right man than have a lavish dress and ceremony.

Everyone stood in a line outside the church doors. Mary adjusted your veil. You clutched your bouquet. It had roses, blue violets, daisies, and forget me nots. Plucked out from your childhood home and now there had to be flowers regrown in your new homes. Your bridesmaids all put their tussie mussies, their smaller flower bouquets, in hand.

      "I don't know if I'm going to faint or become sick," you confessed.

Ida turned to you with a smile. She touched your arm, rubbing it in comfort.

"Oh, Y/N, you will be fine!" she consoled.

"He'll think this dress and veil are old-fashioned!" you fretted.

"No- he'll be so lovestruck that he will be the one fainting at the sight of you! And who cares if it's old-fashioned or not- it's a lovely dress! And-oh!-you almost dropped one flower from your own bouquet!"

With a little laugh, you thanked her. Ida got down and picked up the forget-me-not.

"Here. Do you remember what it's supposed to represent?" she asked.

"Is it true love?" you asked.

She smiled at you.

"Yes- I think you found your true love, Y/N. Not many people do. Yes, you're nervous- but that's normal to be!" she said.

"I don't want to do anything wrong!" you confessed, your shoulders rising to your ears.

"If James tripped and fell on his face before the altar, would you not want to marry him?" she asked.

"No! I'd...I'd laugh, of course. Then I'd pick him up!" you said.

Both of you laughed lightly to break the tension.

"So, why shouldn't he do the same for you?"

"You're...you're right. And I guess it's just nerves."

"Just take some breaths and enjoy it, Y/N. You'll miss it when it's over!"

 As your mother began to head in, she clutched your hand.

      Their gossip quieted as the organ began to play out some more cheerful music. Though their voices dimmed to whispers, their eyes kept returning to the doors. The flower girls and ring bearers were the niece and nephew of James. They waddled across, to their place. The pews cooed as they walked. Then it struck you- they were about to be your niece and nephew in an hour!

 The two bridesmaids-Ida and Mary- and your maid of honor-Alice, began to filter through. They each had an officer of their own to drape across. They walked down, clutching their tussie-mussies and smiling. They walked to the front. The guests had quit their own whispering. Perhaps the occasional giggle or something you heard that was a cough.

The song changed. The song of the bride’s entrance.

 But as you walked in, you saw all of them- smiling. Smiling at you. Eyes bright. True, genuine smiles as you gazed at them. You heard the shuffle of feet. The creaking of pews as each person in the church stood up right before you entered. Taking in a deep breath, you walked into the sanctuary on your father’s arm.

You glanced at the guests. Everyone had hats on to protect them from how the harsh summer sun would creep into the church. Ladies wore light dresses in bright colors and men in sharp suits. Many people were given pins of flowers to attach to the front of their clothes. Your own mother and brother sat at the front on one side. James’s parents and siblings sat on the other side. James stood at the altar and next to him was Stewart as the best man. Many of the guests were other officers in their pea-green uniforms. They craned their necks to watch you. You even heard some whispering among the guests with an admirable puff of air- "She looks so pretty!"

Then you looked up at James. Dressed in his uniform. Stewart was beside him as his best man.

Though you sweated beneath your wedding dress, you forgot the heat with the cool air of the church. And you chilled completely once you truly looked James in the eye.  He glowed. His eyes blinked a couple of times, and he placed his hands in front of him. But he did not mask his own joy for the sake of propriety on his face. James stood even taller. He blushed and even puffed out his chest slightly with every step you arrived closer to him. He only smiled wider with every step closer to him that you took.

A tenderness filled your heart. Yes, as simple as this ceremony was, the church was filled with those who loved and would do their best to support you. This moment was something you could only imagine would happen two years ago. Something you always doubted would ever happen was your reality. Now it was. You were about to be married to a man you loved. You dreamed of romance and now you found it. It finally happened.

   Every eye was on you. You felt that they were not judging you, looking for a mistake, a flaw. A wrong way to walk or a button was undone on your dress. No- they were enjoying you, sharing your happiness. The nerves became excitement and elation inside you. Arriving at the altar, your father then extended his arm. James extended his.

From Dad to James. Two men. Not that James saw you as his property- oh no. He saw you as the woman he wanted as his life partner. A love between equals, not stretches of power. You felt childhood melt from you as you reached forward. But it was this was no death- it was a beginning, a rebirth. A phase of your life had ended, and a new phase was beginning. You wrapped an arm around his- white on green. Then both of you kneeled on two elaborate cushions before the altar. Then you looked up at him and he down at you.

"You look beautiful, my dear," he whispered to you.

"Thank you,” you whispered back.

      You then let your father go. You knew the time would have to come. You didn't want to spend all your life on the farm until your hair was white and your bones turned brittle. And now here it was. You just had to let him go.

He smiled at you. Then he nodded at James. It seemed as if the world slipped away. You held onto him with both hands- he was warm and steady and inviting. It felt as if there were not your whole family and guests staring at your every move. It was only you two. The rector then stepped forward. He was an old man with white hair, a thin white beard, and glasses with bright green eyes. Though he was in his seventies, he spoke with a clear voice and much vivacity.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness this man and woman join together in holy matrimony."

   Then James turned to you. He took your hand in his. And he said the oath.

 "I, James Nicholls, I take you to be my wife, From this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, forsaking all others 'til death do us part. In the presence of God do I make this vow."

Yes...until only death would you part. And on the order of the King, he had to go. And perhaps he would...he would...

No, you could not think of that now. You could not yet mourn him. Here he was- alive. And however long you had to be married to him, you would enjoy it.

“I, Y/N Narracott, take you to be my husband, from this day forward…” you vowed.

James' little nephew brought the rings forth to his uncle. You removed your glove. With a gentle smile, James slipped the ring around your finger. It was a plain bronze band. Both of yours were hand-me-downs. But it fits you like it was crafted for your finger. You both went to the table with the marriage certificate on it near the altar. James signed it with a gentle touch and gave you the pen. You leaned down and signed your name. Your new name.

"Y/N Narracott Nicholls.”

You both returned to the altar for the last prayers and rites. James took your hand, and you wrapped it around his arm the whole time. You never wanted to let go of him. He beamed at you. Then the final “amen” rang. The rector gestured to you both to stand and turn to the congregation.

"With the power invested in me by the law and the Church of England, I now pronounce you man and wife."

 The guests all stood up clapping. After some time and after your photographs were taken, they rushed outside. You heard Albert whistle and James laughed at the sound. As you walked out, you saw a whole line of officers of the army standing outside. You paused as you were on the threshold as they stood. Stewart rushed to his place there to complete the missing piece.

"Stand hup!" he yelled.

The men got their swords from their hilts and lifted them up to make an arch over your heads. James gave a small nod of thanks to his men, and you both walked out. Smiling brightly as they regarded you both with as much importance as their own calvary. The guests threw flower petals like summer snow.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The guests followed you to the small reception and celebration at the Narracott farm. The congrats multiplied in the thousands. You often abandoned your plate of food to talk. So much embracing and handshaking you thought it would fall off. And though you smiled, it was natural. There were much dancing and happy faces. A violin picked up a tune. You danced with him- your husband, James. He moved as sweetly as he did at socials. He held you a little closer. Moving just as one-partners of a dream.

Then as you both sat down at your table, Major Stewart turned over to talk to you.

      "Well, Jim boy. I had a feeling you'd be the first among us two to get married. And of course, I was right. Joey should have been your best man instead! The horse practically was your matchmaker!"

James let out a little laugh. You went over and held his hand as it lay on the table.

"He was not! We met when she found my drawings!" he corrected.

"Hmm, if I recall correctly- she saw the one of Topthorn. Ah well- then he was the matchmaker and should have been your best man! He’d look handsome in a suit, wouldn’t he? If you can stand the risk of horse droppings in the church!" Stewart teased.

You smiled at the silly picture and thanked him for his involvement. Once he left, James then leaned down and kissed you. There was a small holler from the crowd at the display of intimacy. But it was your wedding day! And you were on a farm! Behavior could loosen a little. Your mother brought out then the cake and there was enough for everyone to have a little slice.

Albert went up to the table and shook his hand.

“Much congrats sir! Only- you’re no sir anymore-You’re about my brother now!” Albert said.

“Yes, I am,” James replied.

Albert’s hands dropped into fists at his side.

“Please let me in the army! If Joey’s going, I’m going too!”

“I told you before- No. You’re too young, Albert. And now I can’t let my own brother-in-law get into trouble, can I?”

James turned to you.

“I don’t think it would make the Missus very happy if I let you run out and get shot!”

“No, I wouldn’t!” you agreed, keeping your hand again intertwined with his.

 Albert made himself stand taller. Now that the authority figure was family.

“Then James- you better be good to Y/N!”

“Of course, I will!”

“If you ever sleep with some woman who’s not my sister and make her cry, I swear I’ll shoot you with father’s gun myself!”

“Albie!” you gasped.

Your eyes went wide, and your jaw lowered. Such talk on the wedding day to James’ face! And in your presence! But James only smiled and nodded with a little laugh.

“Well then! Defending her honor and protecting her? You already have a soldier’s spirit, Albert! But I promise I will do everything I can for your sister’s happiness. And you have my permission to take action to avenge her…if she does not shoot me first.” He turned to you.

You laughed a little. As Albert went away, James turned to you. He then took your hand. He spoke lowly.

“Y/N, I will never do anything I know would hurt you. I swear it…”

“Thank you…I…I know you’re a good man. I trust you. And I swear, I’ll be a good wife to you, James, I will…” you whispered only for him.

“You already are,” he said with a kiss on your forehead.

The guests said goodbye as the sun dipped down. The pink sunset became the early evening. Many threw leftover flower petals and cheered as James led you into the motorcar. You drove off, your farm vanishing over a hill. You stopped at a cottage outside of town.

“Here…this will be our home for the moment,” James announced.

Until you leave, you thought sadly. But no-no- you could not afford to mourn him. He was here, standing before you. He opened his hand. You accepted it.

“It’s bad luck for the bride to trip when she enters!” he prodded.

Squealing despite yourself, he scooped you in his arms and carried you over the threshold. It was a lovely, comfortable cottage. Nice and wooden with modest furnishings. It had white wallpaper with a floral pattern all over. He set you on your feet.

“How are you feeling, darling?” you asked him.

“If I am honest, tired,” he confessed.

“Goodness! Now it’s done!” you agreed.

Both of you laughed out loud about it. As it became dark, you settled to relax in the sitting room. The luggage already arrived there. You chatted over everything that happened today. Who arrived, what each guest said, what went right and wrong. He even brought out a small decanter of whiskey for the two of you. You noted his hands shook a little as he poured out a little for each of you.  

He brought a special device- a phonograph. Complete with music to play. As the sun set, you both were listening to a song. No, it was not just a song- it was music. By some fellow named Debussy from France. And it was music that sounded like a dream. As James relaxed on the couch you laid your head on his chest and he wrapped one of his large, soft hands around you. The music swelled.

“Today was wonderful. I love you, my husband.” You spoke. Relishing the word.

“I love you too.”

You both kissed again as the phonograph’s music continued. You embraced him and did not let go. Then he ended the kiss and looked down at you. But your body flooded. How warm he felt and handsome he looked. You wanted more. You wanted him. In the ultimate way you could have him. His eyes were at half-mast and his voice was husky.

“Y/N…I…I won’t push you…I’ll sleep on this couch if you want…”

Feeling the surge now tenfold, you took his hand and led him to your shared bedroom.

“James…yes.”

You felt his fingers on your back as he undid each button of your dress. Removing each last layer. And you did not cover or hide any part of yourself. You undid each button of his uniform and did not shy from that bed. Neither of you did. You knew James was a man of battles and blood. But you discovered in his body the pleasure and gentleness a man could give a woman. And for both of you, it was a perfect night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning, you awoke. Both of you knew he had duties to run the army’s recruiting and tend the items bought and sold for war.  You turned over and saw James was awakening. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and with a moan, he opened his eyes.

“Good morning, Mrs. Nicholls.” He greeted.

“Good morning, Mr. Nicholls,” you replied.

You had the honor of fixing his tie and making sure his buttons were right for work. He helped put on your own clothes- helping you button your shoes and step into your petticoat. He helped adjust your corset to how you liked it.

“Here- I will tie a bow in the back, does that sound nice?” he asked.

“Yes, it does- like your signature,” you replied.

It was a pleasant morning- cool for now, though the afternoon would heat up. And you enjoyed the food stored there- eggs, toast with jam and butter, and sausage. All compliments of the cottage owners.  

“If you need anything of me, I’ll be downtown. It’s not a long walk there. I’ll see you at lunch and when the day is done, my dear,” he said.

Before he had to leave, you gave him another kiss as a goodbye. Then he smiled and went out the door.

A quiet life. A domestic life. A peaceful life. No matter how brief it had to be, you had to savor it. But sitting on that couch, feeling the ghost of his weight, the worries rush over you. Then hot tears stung your eyes. You felt as if a corkscrew twisted your chest. You let yourself grieve. Grieve how short this time with him had to be. Grieve the worst that could happen. Grieve that this was short, and he had to go away to another country. Grieve that he might die for his. Grieve the husband and man you loved that wasn’t yet dead.

[acaciapines]

plant meanings!!!! ramble about em!!!!!! I wanna hear it!!!!

he he :3

plants! technically spoilers for the fic i just posted the vine that ate the south, so like, yknow. under the cut!

alright so! i spent. do not even want to know how long to come up with all of these. from the start i knew leafpool was gonna be kudzu and since (as probably is obvious from the title) the idea of kudzu growing over and smothering everything is strongly associated with the american south, the clans are vaguely set there! somewhere in the georgia-alabama area idk. so all my plants. should grow there lol.

and now to copy paste my notes! anything added i'll put in (parenthesis) at the end.

Leafpool: Kudzu (Pueraria montana), smothering imagery—she is smothered and left to die by starclan.

Squirrelflight: The wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana). There is something to this idea of always being this provider, and how that is taken from her, ex. how this is one of the parents of the cultivated strawberry. Also straw is similar to star <3. (i'll add--literally i just liked the vibes of this also, i tried finding something else but just kept coming back squilf being a strawberry <3)

Mothwing: While she doesn’t actually have a daemon, to hide that she weaves long-spurred violets (Viola rostrata) into her fur, because violets are lesbian flowers and also because they tend to grow near eastern hemlock trees…so, connecting her to Leafpool! (ie. to the forest, aka where leaf is from) Before her brother’s death, however, she wore aconite (Aconitum lycoctonum,)the specific species of which is non-native but grown in gardens in the Americas, and less toxic than some other varieties, so she gets the benefits of not being doubted (who would wear actual toxin in their fur) without like. dying lol.

Hollyleaf: Wood Lily (Lilium philadelphicum) as they’re poisonous to cats and thus get that association, but also in looks you could see them as a star—but not an aster species. She’s the odd one out. 

Jayfeather: Georgia aster (Symphyotrichum georgianum). It’s a rather rare species that used to be far more common as it depends on wildfire-made environments and thus occupies a far smaller range than it once did, like how Jay is sort of hemmed in and stuck by the clan system lol.

Lionblaze: Calico aster (Symphyotrichum lateriflorum). It’s a pretty common aster species with a wide range and it grows in tandem with other aster species—I write Lion as a pretty family-oriented guy so it fits.

and though she was cut from the fic dovewing would have both kudzu (to connect her w/ leaf, and very much show how starclan is now forcing dove to the prophecy and basically stuff i wrote in flightless dove) and Aster quitensis, which is a rare and maybe extinct aster species that is only found in ecuador. my notes here just say "she is not getting out of this alive" so take that as you will.

and for the minor characters who i gave plants...

Cinderpelt: Woodland Sunflower (Helianthus divaricatus) just. Because I feel like it fits her okay. cheerful despite her circumstances, happy to be here, taking it one day at a time.

Brambleclaw: Carolina Rose (Rosa carolina) because. C’mon. The thorns. The association with love. He’s toxic as get out. The story isn’t about that but it COULD BE. (brambleclaw was going to play a larger role but the fic turned way deeper into leaf being the mother of hollyjaylion than i thought it would be so he mostly got cut.)

Firestar: Southern Live Oak (Quercus virginiana), because it's a large tree that works with Thunderclan being The Forest, and also they're like, almost evergreen--they keep their leaves year-round mostly and Thunderclan would like that!

annnnnd that's my plants! wahoo!

[nobody-knose--archive]

yknow how i go on about not having listened to the solo albums? it’s nat day. i listened to nat. liveblog below

-spooooky ghoooooost

-you know technically this is my first & only 100% complete & utter blind tally hall experience + liveblog. everything else has been an album i've already heard or variations thereupon

-alright well this doesn't sound like tally hall

-hi rob

-boy man this is poppy but it sure is rob's voice singing

-"he don't wanna lose" damn is that a tally hall reference????????/ /j

-this ghost sounds pretty damn relatable

-still sounds like something i'd hear on the radio (derogatory (affectionate))

-does this one have a music video? i'll have to get to those eventually won't i

-oooh funky pronoun shenanigans one of my favorite types of shenanigans

-what baby did rob pick up off the street to provide these backing vocals

-white star??? is that a dw reference???? /j it'd be almost relevant by the time this came out

-i don't know anything about imagine dragons but this reminds me of them

-this is an 80's-ass fadeout

-oh so he's namedropping every track here? just planting the words old bike right in the first verse

-wahoo audio channel shenanigans

-oh there's the hum biddy biddys i heard about

-this is distinctly much less like bicycle race (queen) than i was expecting

-then again i mostly know bicycle race (queen) from lemon demon's cover of it so.

-this does indeed sound like the hawaii part ii of rob cantor

-classic acoustic guitar use. minimal percussion

-nevermind there's the drums & rock guitar everything's changed

-now it sounds like some actual tally hall stuff

-whomst

-guest vocals? i should've seen them coming but didn't expect any in this song at least

-oh there's that lyric. i've seen it plenty of times & always had to imagine what it sounded like

-this in fact indeed giving me 1985 vibes

-is that the year rob was born? it'd be near then at least

[following that comment was an exchange between me & june about birthdays. it told me rob’s born in 1983 but ross was born in 1985 so maybe rob made a tribute to his old bandmate. who knose <3]

-those drums. those synths. he's really going for the 80s alright

-i feel like i'm gradually forgetting this is an album by rob cantor, yellow tie of tally hall

-see, hawaii part ii was produced to the point of feeling unfeasible & unintended for live performances. but this album hits a middle ground where it's like, if this were done by anyone other than rob cantor of tally hall, it could be done live, but it's just rob cantor, not of tally hall, making an album himself, so i just know nothing about this would ever be done live. it's an interesting effect

-this album needs more tmbg influence

-this sounds less like going purple than i was expecting, which can apply to both the whole album & this song right here

-i recognize that voice from hawaii part ii

-i think? i need to check the credits

-stephanie? no not her. the lady from black rainbows?

-i'm blanking on her fuckin name it's on the tip of my tongue

-madison?? alison??? no alison hanna is from another song god what is her name

-yeah madi diaz thanks june

-i don't even know if that's actually her that's just who she sounds like

-what's interesting about this song is (just like hawaii part ii) tally hall didn't do duets very much but this actually sounds like one

-i promise i won't do hawaii part ii comparisons the whole way through it's just what comes to mind

-good god madi has some good range those are high fuckin notes

-OH GOD

-this is faster than i was expecting

-wow okay. this is no longer a jh song alright

-sounds like some terraria synths in here. they could actually be in terarria for all i know

-this is the song they've been putting on all these villain playlists?? i couldn't think of a less villainous song if i tried

-oh thank god the tambourine is back i've been starved for it

-i wouldn’t know, i go on even though

-oh this is the one with that really wild music video isn't it. good old acoustic guitar

-i can actually picture this one on a tally hall album. he's being kinda silly with the percussion but the vocals at least. hm

-honestly what intrigues me most is how it's nothing like the asteroid musical pieces + going purple. those are all i knew of rob's solo stuff until now & i'm not picking up on many similarities. oh and the shia labeoufs/christian bale

-damn he's doing the vocal filters again

-i keep thinking i'm hearing zubin somewhere in the background- wait no that's my cat at the door now

-how many shrimps do you have to eat

-alright now this one's just silly. congrats to it for making me laugh

-if that's real whistling in the background there it's just gotta be bora i know this

-if that's real accordion in the background then it's surely also bora

-this sounds damn near like nonsensical spanish- i thought la telanovela was after this? /j

-he just pulled out all the stops for this album. everywhere.

-you know i kinda thought of extreme vibrato/reverb as a joe thing but i'm really hearing a shit ton of it here so maybe it's a rob thing too. or maybe i should listen to jhjh before i make any conclusions

-who. who's this? i absolutely don't recognize this guest singer. not from hawaii part ii presumably then

-if i can say one thing about this album it's that it's absolutely living up to its cover

-so what does this have to do with telanovelas. i watched que hora es in 9th grade spanish i know what they're like /hj

-oh this is the one about that guy who isn't actually dead. epic

-now this sounds more like the solo viral pieces of his

-i'm pretty sure laughter is the intended reaction to have here so good on rob  for achieving that- wait it's over?

-oh. guess he was taking more influence from tmbg than i thought

-let your mother know is the song i've heard absolutely nothing from other people about. and now. i suppose i can't blame them

-oh you know what my complaint about this album is? it's very little like lemon demon. too many mundane 2nd person ballads, not enough 3rd or 1st person stuff about absolutely nothing

-also from a musical standpoint he doesn't make things stand out super well. it feels a tab bit sanded down. like there are bits in the vocals & instrumentals that feel like they're meant to be a big change, but there's no notable emotional shift in the tone

-ayyyyy this is the one andrew worked on!

-yeah fuck with the tonality of it mess shit up go ham

-i mean if you're going to include flute in a rock album you've got to make it worth it

-i've not heard that song but i think this is meant to be the spiritual opposite to special by jh

-you know what i want from this song? andrdew vocals. it can do whatever it wants i just want to hear my man sing

-definitely bora's whistling no way it's anything else

-showing off your vocal range there mr cantor?

-oh hey this is the one that makes my friends cry

-i've not listened to songs about girls but this is reminding me of it anyway

-this feels like audio taken from a music video that had sfx added to the original song

-like bro. you can let your lyrics stand for themselves. you don't need to dangle me on a rope from a bridge over a highway

-i mean he might as well end the album this way. he might as well.

-ending thoughts, i guess. rob does what he does well but i think he ought to be doing something slightly different

also look at this yt comment i found on the comprehension amalgamation upload

[sixeightsuited]

Horizon Zero Dawn and Cultural appropriation: A very different view.

For the first time EVER, I’m sitting on the other side of a discussion about appropriating native culture.  Why?  Well, let me lay the framework.

First off, I’m not a guy who “knows a Native American” or has a “Native friend”  I am a 100% Anishinabe (Ojibway) dude who lives on reserve and has fought racism, stereotypes, pan-Indianism, and cultural appropriation fiercely for as long as I can remember. I’ve been the victim of horrendous racial violence as a child, adolescent, and adult, and I’m also a gamer.

I am the first to point out anything that smacks of any of the above and after I saw the Dia Lacina essay on “Horizon: Zero Dawn” being culturally insensitive and appropriating Native culture, I felt for the first time in a situation like this that I had to say something in rebuttal.

Lacina takes issue with the use of the words Tribal, Primitive, Braves, and Savage being used in the game (fyi they’re used to describe predominantly white people in game and they’re White words we didn’t use to describe ourselves thus I claim no ownership of, nor want to, anymore than I want to be a redskin, Indian or Wahoo)  

It seems (IMO) that most of her beef comes from an apparent belief that numerous aspects of generic tribal culture that appear in the game (making clothing from skins, hunting with spears and bows, living in a Matriarchal society, etc) are the sole domain of the Native American and just to be safe and cleverly keep her POV less subject to scrutiny, she applies it even more broadly to indigenous people world wide (I will just refer to us in particular as NA cuz I’m lazy and I also don’t refer to myself as a Native American) and basically that anything that is remotely “tribal” shouldn’t be used in gaming without our or someone else’s permission.

 In fairness, I don’t know if she’s actually played the game but as someone who is currently in the midst of doing exactly that, I can tell you that I have a pretty good idea of what stuff triggered her being upset and why, and while I absolutely respect her right to get offended by whatever she likes, and she makes excellent points about some other games, I am going to point out that there are flaws with this logic.

First of all, the basics: HZD is set in a post-post-apocalyptic future where people are living in tribal groups in a very destroyed world.  Machines exist but as hybrid animal/dinosaur type creatures and technology is pretty much non-existent in day to day human life.  

The heroine of the story is a red haired, white girl named Aloy who lives as an outcast with her adopted father, Rost.  Without giving a lot away, they are fiercely shunned by the local tribe for something Rost did and also the fact that Aloy is motherless.  

Impressively and rightly, though somewhat dismissively remarked upon by Lacina, is the way women and especially women of color are portrayed so positively in-game as this particular tribe is a total Matriarchy run by elders of various ethnicity.  African, Asian, White, and a variety of undefined people of color are common everywhere in the game.  (The leader of one band of warriors is a very fierce, commanding, intelligently portrayed black woman with a powerful presence.)  It reflects a fairly global society from a “skin color” perspective without any horrible accents or broken speech.

They worship an “All-Mother” goddess and their culture is (at least how I saw a lot of it) fairly heavy on European i.e. Celtic, Germanic, Scandinavian, etc type symbolism and the rest is filled in with mostly generic tribal-ish stuff that you could find in countless cultures around the world.

 I really didn’t get a “Native American” vibe off the game.  Of course, I don’t automatically presume to claim sole ownership of things like tribal life, hunting with bows and spears, and worshiping spirits of various elements solely for my own.  Random fact: Because there are over 500 distinct First Nations in N. America, we, believe it or not, didn’t all ride horses, live in tipis, use bows and arrows, tobacco and sage, and worship Eagles and Wolves.  Why? Well…use your brain.  Tobacco and Sage don’t grow EVERYWHERE, horses came over with the Europeans (and if you saw where I live you couldn’t have and cant for the most part get a horse through the bush if you tried) Eagles and Wolves don’t live EVERYWHERE….get the point?  Anyways….

If you examine Rost, he like most of the men has a braided beard and other seemingly Viking/Middle Ages inspired features, is white, speaks clear, unbroken English, and is a loving, protective and very positive role model for the girl.   Aloy for her part, is also fairly Viking-esque (to the point of looking incredibly like Lagaertha from the show Vikings but with red hair) also Egrit from GoT, and is no damsel in distress who needs men to save her. NOWHERE in the game have I encountered any Tipis, wigwams, Sweatlodges, or Non-White people speaking in stereotypical “Me smoke-um peace pipe, He go dat-a way” fashion.

The  opening cinematic is very touching (and long) as we see the orphaned Aloy as a baby in Rost’s care being carried around in a bundle on his back (which pretty much every culture did in one form or another at some point in time) and him ultimately taking her to the spot where a child of the tribe receives it’s name.

I really liked this idea as it isn’t often portrayed in a lot of mediums outside of stereotypical “Dances With Wolves” bullshit. Also, naming ceremonies are not the sole domain of NA people and what occurs bears zero resemblance to any NA ceremony I know of.  (It was actually a little Lion King at one point lol) But it’s a powerful moment in the beginning with much more that occurs during it but I won’t spoil that either.

Aloy herself is a pretty complex character.  She’s extremely independent, defiant, and questions pretty much everything about why things are the way they are and wants to do something about it.  You actually begin playing her as a 6 year old which is pretty unique and even then she’s tough and fearless and determined to explore her world.  

She is in no way hyper-sexualized (I’m looking your way Overwatch) Her clothing and everyone else’s, is utilitarian and appropriate for the environments she lives in, and so far, I have not encountered anything with her or any other character that made me go “WTF?”and trust me, my radar for that shit is HIGHLY SENSITIVE.  This isn’t Avatar, people.  It’s not John Smith. It’s not The Great Wall or Pocahontas.  This isn’t white dude shows up and saves the helpless non-white people while helpless native woman falls in love with him stuff.  It’s a fictitious future where we maniacs blew it up, damn us all to hell!

But here’s the more annoying thing for me as an actual Anishinabe.  I don’t need people speaking for me or getting offended on my behalf.  I am very capable of doing that myself. I am also in no way writing this claiming to be speaking for any other NA people or persons. It’s based on my observations from actually playing HZD and examining the various fictional “cultural” elements in the game.

If you see a skin tied inside a hoop and automatically assume it’s a dreamcatcher” ripping off “our culture” (FYI Dreamcatchers are a 20th century thing whose popularity was a result of pan-Indianism that exploded in the 70s.) or if you see feathers on a spear or as part of a costume (nowhere is anyone wearing a single eagle feather in the back of a beaded headband or a Dakota looking headdress either) and automatically presume it to be ripping off NA culture, you’re REEEEEEEEEEALY reaching.  If you think caring for the environment, obeying matriarchs, worshipping elemental spirits, or making your own clothes is solely the property of NA culture, see previous statement.

By all means get offended.  Get offended by Chief Wahoo.  Get offended by the Washington Redskins.  Get offended that thousands of Native women have been murdered or gone missing and nothing’s been done about it.  Get offended by Johnny Depp or Robert Beltran playing Native people instead of actual Native people getting those roles.  Get offended by shit like Adam Sandler’s “Ridiculous 6” where a native woman is called a “hot piece of red prairie meat” or Depp’s “Lone Ranger” movie.

Get offended that my family was destroyed by the Residential Schools and that the 60s scoop took babies away from their families and people, that forced sterilizations took place and mass graves of dead Native children exist at former Residential School sites.

Don’t just jump on the I’m offended bandwagon because you saw some feathers or skins or spears or bows in a game and immediately grew indignant and wanted to claim them as OUR culture.  They’re not.  They’re almost globally universal in numerous cultures at various points in time.  Get offended, as she rightly mentioned, when the game Overwatch sexualizes the shit out of almost every female character and takes West Coast tribal art and makes a costume out of it.  

THAT is appropriation.  White people holding powwows in Europe (powwows are also pretty much not traditional and are extremely pan-Indian, not to mention full of us appropriating each other’s Native cultures ie. Dakotas wearing Jingle Dresses, Ojibway wearing Dakota regalia, etc) is appropriation.

This game……I’m just not seeing it the same way.  And I’m nobody.  I have no ties to Guerilla or anybody other than myself and my community.

[nyskateboarding]

About a year ago now, I saw down for a drink and conversation to feel out this guy’s film he was working on and get a feel if it was legit or not. We had a long talk, and I came away hopeful but in a wait and see kind of status because I didn’t really understand it. Fast forward a year and I am happy to see all the progress Michael has made and pleased to be able to share this with you all. It was hard to nail down everything from that one conversation so I had Michael write out his answers and have posted his full responses below. His project called Humanity Stoked covers many topics but the general gist is about humanity helping humanity. We spend so much time absorbed in our day to day and see a lot of negativity out there wishing there was more that could be done…or waiting on someone else to step in. The film interviews people who make strides everyday to make the world a better place and how everyone can do so in their own lives. There’s a laundry list of names that share their stories and as with any project like this, a short summary doesn’t grasp its full spectre. Get comfortable and dive in to find out more in my interview with Michael…

Name: Michael Ian Cohen Age:  52 Hometown: Brooklyn, NY Current Location: Long Island Years skating: 44 Years

It’s about the love of humanity, the importance of living an open, loving life, giving back, and the issues that affect us all, from music and art, human rights, LGBTQ rights, women’s rights, the environment, science, activism and more.

What’s up Michael, for those who haven’t heard of it, can you briefly tell our readers what Humanity Stoked is all about? Humanity Stoked is an unprecedented feature length documentary featuring the biggest names in skateboarding, including Nyjah Huston, Bob Burnquist, Tony Hawk, Leticia Bufoni, Tony Alva, Christian Hosoi, Vanessa Torres, Brian Anderson, Chris Cole, P-Rod and many others. There’s also dozens of musicians, artists, activists, scientists and more, ALL of whom are also skaters.  What’s cool as hell is that it’s a skateboarding doc…and it’s NOT. It’s about the love of humanity, the importance of living an open, loving life, giving back, and the issues that affect us all, from music and art, human rights, LGBTQ rights, women’s rights, the environment, science, activism and more. These are the issues we dig into with everyone, and share their personal stories related to it all.  The end game is to make a film that’s totally unique, interesting as hell, and that inspires people to think more deeply about these issues. I’m not trying to tell people what to think about issues, as that would just make me part of the problem that’s dividing people. I’m trying to get to people to think more deeply and with an open mind, before jumping to conclusions and worse, voting for people that create legislation based on knee-jerk reactions, unjustified fears and twisted facts.  I also want to inspire people to live a life that’s more open, authentic, purposeful and to give back a bit more in the process. As we say at the WhatStopsYou.org Foundation,  to “Live more and give more!” It’s a beautiful mission as much as it’s a film. The fact is, we’re giving away all our distribution revenue and nobody on the crew, myself included as the producer and director gets paid. We’ve been fortunate to have some amazing people in the film and companies supporting us, including, Steve Van Doren and VANS, Wing Lam and Wahoo’s, Jet Blue, Loaded Boards and many others as well.

Tony Hawk Squawking

Why did you decide to do this? What’s your motivation? That’s a damn good question Chris. I had not been living a particularly authentic life and was ignoring the things that were critical to living a happy life, including being able to express myself creatively and doing my part to make this world a better place. It was clear to me how much activism and  volunteerism is needed right now and I wanted to make a positive difference in people’s lives. Around 2015, I began sliding into a devastating depression. I ended up in a very dark place for nearly 2 years. Often, I would just break down in tears. As I emerged from it, it became clear I had to make some fundamental changes in the way I was living.  The fact is, I was lucky enough to have some great influences in my life, especially my Grandfather, Ralph Bofshever, a FDNY member that was awarded a gold medal of valor from the Mayor of NYC in 1948. Actually, they named a day after him in Brooklyn! From the way he lived his life, I learned the importance of people helping and supporting one another in any way one can. My grandfather was never wealthy, but he volunteered his time to various causes he believed in his entire life. Wanting to pay that forward, I ended up creating a non-profit, the WhatStopsYou.org Foundation to help ensure other children had a positive inspiration in their life too. I also knew an epic documentary could have an even greater reach to inspire people to help make this world a better place if it was done right and featured interviews with the right people to make it interesting. I didn’t want to produce some preachy condescending bullshit. I’ve been skateboarding my whole life and it occurred to me I’ve only seen professional skateboarders talk about skateboarding and their social lives. I wanted to have deeper conversations with them all about some really important issues that affect us all. To make it even more interesting, I wanted to involve musicians, artists, scientists, politicians, activists, philanthropists and more. I wanted to keep with my original concept of skaters however and wondered if I could find people from all of those other areas of life, but that also happen to love skateboarding. Fortunately, I was able to pull it off and the result is the film Humanity Stoked.

You’ve got a lot of big names that have gotten involved in the project. Who from New York is on board and what do they bring to the film? Yeah, we’ve been really blessed with the support of so many iconic people who chose to be in this film and support it (the full list can be seen at www.HumanityStoked.com). From my home town of New York, we’ve got Brian Anderson, Tyshawn Jones, 6-Time Afro-Latin Jazz Grammy winner Arturo O’Farrill, Virgin Blacktop’s Charlie Samules and more. Other cool East Coast dudes include Bam Margera, Brandon Novak, Jesse Margara, McRad’s Chuck Treece, and more.  Everyone brings their own personal stories related to the issues in the film. With Tyshawn for example, we get into his childhood, growing up poor and being raised by a single mom. It’s not about just telling the story however, it’s about the value of a mother’s love and guidance and positive ways it has impacted his life. Of course, Brian Anderson gets into issues such as LGBTQ rights and equality, but so much more. The lessons people can learn from his experiences go far beyond that of one’s sexuality. Having the courage to live truly, fully, and authentically is important to all of us, and Brian’s life is a great example of that. I’m lucky to call him a good friend. With other guys like Bam and Brandon, of course we talk a lot about addiction and recovery. They’ve both spoken about that before of course, but we hit that from a different angle. Guys like O’Farrill and Treece talk about the importance music and creative expression and the way it can impact our society and even legislation. In the end, what these people bring to the film is their perspectives and personal stories of triumph, failure, giving in to fear and overcoming it as well, living life fully and giving back. Beyond the people of New York, everyone knows New York has its own energy and vibe, and that comes across for sure. We filmed all over the world, but our New York locations include all 5 boroughs, and specifically, LES, Battery Park, Long Beach, the Wythe Hotel, the Brooklyn Bowl and other iconic New York spots.

What I’m trying to do however is help make sure whatever direction we move in, wherever we end up, it’s because it’s a result of careful, open minded, reasonable contemplation, and not as a result of insecurities, ignorance, fear, hate, intolerance and the turning of our backs on science and facts in general. 

On your website it says you are raising money and awareness while making the film, how does that work and who is benefitting from it? Great question, Chris! The importance of giving back in life is a real part of the film, so we shine a light on lots of charities that many of the people in the film are involved with. Some of the famous people have their own foundations, and that’s great, but it’s important to understand each of us is already  empowered to make a difference. It’s doesn’t even have to take money. Most people don’t have the time and other resources to create and grow their own charitable foundations, but we don’t need to. Everyone can help out in any number of ways that don’t require money or even much time. Actually, Nyjah Huston speaks about that in the film specifically.  As for the money, that’s another area we’re very proud to speak about, and with hope that it can inspire others. The fact is, we are producing the entire film for free. Nobody in the cast and nobody in the crew gets paid. Even as the producer and director, I do not take a salary of any kind. The WhatStopsYou.org Foundation has already been granted its 501c3 Non-Profit status and we’re giving every cent of our film distribution revenue to it. More specifically, in addition to producing non-profit films for the betterment of humanity, the main purpose of the foundation is providing amazing leaders from the worlds of action sports, science, business, music, the arts and more, as inspirational speakers to schools, youth groups, and other qualified non-profits that would otherwise be unable to do so. I’m proud to say the vast majority of pro skaters in the film have already filmed promos for the launch of the foundation. 

BA looks like he covered the gamut of emotions here.

When the film comes out, what do you hope the impact is? It’s funny you ask that, because at the end of each interview we complete for the film, while the cameras are still rolling, that’s one of a few questions I ask every interview subject. We also ask everyone exactly why they wanted to be featured in the documentary. The answers are often deeply moving and sometimes damn funny. We will be posting everyone’s answers on our social media and on a special website: www.WhyHumanityStoked.com. Anyway, my hope is that the film inspires people think more deeply about all sorts of things that affect the peaceful advancement of humanity…the issues that affect us all. Again, I don’t want to tell people what to think or what direction we should be headed in as a society. What I’m trying to do however is help make sure whatever direction we move in, wherever we end up, it’s because it’s a result of careful, open minded, reasonable contemplation, and not as a result of insecurities, ignorance, fear, hate, intolerance and the turning of our backs on science and facts in general. 

Who has been the most inspiring or influential person you’ve met during the making of this film? Okay, that question really makes me smile! It’s because I’ve set out to make a film that can inspire people, and was surprised to learn it began working from the very first days of production. During almost every interview we’ve done for the film, both myself, the interviewee and the crew have all talk about how inspiring the process was! Seriously man, most interviews end with heartfelt hug and even some applause, as was the case with Chuck Treece’s interview in Havana, Cuba. As for the most influential person, there are some obvious names like Tony Hawk because of their massive global reach and also because the impact the Tony Hawk Foundation has had in so many communities. In terms of the most inspiring people for me personally, there have been so many but two that come to mind are Tony Alva, Brian Anderson, Valeria Kechichian, Brandon Novak, Ray Barbee, and Vanessa Torres…just to name a few. A few of the most inspiring skateboarders to me have deeply moving stories in the film and will surprise everyone because you’ve not likely heard of them before; truly amazing people like Hamish Brewer, Ray LeVier and Chris Koch.

What’s been the best part of this whole experience for you? Without a doubt, being able to finally live my life more authentically, with purpose and being able to have a positive impact on people is an amazing feeling, although there was something else that caught me by surprise. This all began as a selfless endeavor yet in the process, my life became enriched with new friendships with some truly wonderful human beings that inspire me every day and help broaden my perspectives on so many things.

Have you encountered many challenges getting the film made? [laughs] Ummmm, fuck yes!!. There are endless challenges to making any film, but especially so on a film like this. Remember, not only is this my first film, I’m making it with zero financing so I’ve had to be very creative with just about every aspect. I also began without a single connection to anyone from the worlds of filmmaking, skateboarding, music, art, politics, etc…so I had to literality start from scratch in every imaginable respect. To this day, I am the sole producer of the film. As far as shooting the interviews, I’ve been beyond blessed with a team of amazing, selfless, talented professionals that donate their time and equipment because they believe in the mission and social responsibility as much as I do. From almost the very beginning, Nick Lang out of Philadelphia came on board as my main DP. He’s a talented filmer and also an amazing drone cinematographer. More recently, another talented Filmer and truly excellent colorist came on board, Ian Gibson from Brooklyn by the way of Texas.  Both these guys will hop on a flight with me for a 4 day shoot, working 15 hour days with no break and NO PAY. I have endless respect for them as human beings and as gifted professionals. They both deserve so much so if you know anyone that can use their services, reach out to Nick Lang at nicklangmedia.com or on Instagram @nicklangmedia and Ian Gibson at frostedindependentfilms.com or on Instagram @iangibson_fif. For the record, there are over a dozen people on the crew, all of whom have donated their time and talent at one time or another so be sure to check them all out at http://www.HumanityStoked.com

When and where can people go to see the film? The plan is for a release in the spring of next year. We are in talks now for an official screening in the Olympic Village at the 2020 games in Tokyo, as well as in New York and California. In addition to any film festivals, look for it on Netflix, Amazon Prime or Hulu. Keep an eye on our website, for progress reports and of course, like and follow us on Facebook and Instagram @humanitystoked. You can see the first official mini teaser/trailer featuring Iconic skateboarding pioneer Tony Alva and read about why I chose him for the first teaser at the website www.HumanityStoked.com. You can also look up Humanity Stoked on IMDB and see the trailer there.

Any parting words for our readers? As a non-profit film and mission, it’s critical we build out social media following, so please follow us, like and share our posts. It really will help us so damn much down the road! Facebook, Instagram and youtube are all /humanitystoked. If you are in a position to make a credit card donation to the charity, please visit www.WhatStopsYou.org

Lastly, if you want to jump out of an airplane at 12,000 feet with me and Bob Burnquist this summer, be sure to look for our upcoming contest announcement on our social media…no skydiving experience necessary 🙂

Here's the details on the 2020 Documentary featuring skateboarding's biggest names. About a year ago now, I saw down for a drink and conversation to feel out this guy's film he was working on and get a feel if it was legit or not.