#not cause if the sociology part that i like just the getting up early part | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemoncrushh · 6 months ago

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Out of Bounds - Chapter 1

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 2054

I had been contemplating going back to school for the last few years. But if I'm being honest, I don't recall the exact moment I decided to do it. It wasn't like one morning I woke up and told James, "Honey, I'm going to register for college today." I don't even think it was a discussion we had at the dinner table. But I know in the back of my mind it was always there, waiting for me to make the move - to declare to myself that I was officially ready.

So here I was, starting college for the second time. It had been over ten years since the last time I'd started, and I was nervous to say the least. Part of me felt old and a little useless, but then again, I felt useless at home. James had a good-paying job and early on in our marriage we'd discussed my working or not. He told me it was up to me, though not necessary. So, I'd had a few jobs here and there, but nothing I would call a career. For the last year I'd pretty much just been a housewife. To say I was bored would be an understatement. I knew I had something to offer though I wasn't sure what. I also wasn't sure if college would give me the answer, but I figured it could lead me in the right direction.

I'd chosen to start with a light course load as not to get overwhelmed. I signed up for a history class and an English class, both which met on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, as well as a Sociology class that met on Tuesday and Thursday.

My first day was pretty uneventful. I sat in the front row for both classes, mostly because I was afraid I'd miss something the teachers might say, and I knew sitting further back where I could see other students would cause distractions for me. Blame it on my ADD and a little OCD.

My history teacher, Professor Jacobson, was the perfect stereotype of a college instructor, complete with the tweed jacket and bow tie. He lectured for the entire class which made me grateful I had my laptop to take notes and that I was a fast typist. I had an hour to kill before English, so I walked to the snack bar to grab a cup of coffee. I sat at a small table watching the eighteen- to twenty-year-olds walk by and converse with each other. I know that I was blessed with the young-looking gene and could pass for twenty myself, but nevertheless, I felt old.

I had Professor Lloyd, a petite grey-haired woman for English. She seemed nice enough. Maybe a little too nice as she announced we would not have tests and quizzes over what we read, only papers. I decided this was probably too good to be true, therefore I would keep my eye on her.

James got home late that night while I was curled up on the couch reading Pride and Prejudice. I had already cooked and eaten dinner and had left his on the stove.

"So how was your first day?" he asked me as he spooned some carrots onto his plate.

"Pretty good," I replied. I sat down with him at the table while he ate.

"Did you meet anyone?"

I glared at him incredulously. "It was the first day."

"So," said James, his mouth full.

"I don't make friends on the first day of school. I never have in my whole life." As I admitted this out loud, I suddenly realized it was true. I'd never thought about it before. I had always been a bit of a loner.

James shrugged. "Well, I'm sure you will, Tisa." His nonchalant, paternal attitude made me feel uneasy. We didn't really discuss it any further.

After I'd done the dishes, it was time to retire for the evening. James and I had an unorthodox sleeping arrangement. We had separate rooms. It didn't start out that way by any means. He snored. Loudly. I couldn't sleep when he snored. If he wasn't snoring, he tossed and turned until he got comfortable, which again kept me awake. So about five years or so ago I decided to start sleeping in the guest room. We'd gotten so used to it, now it was just the norm. And we'd both get a good night's sleep.

The next morning, I got up earlier than I really needed to for my one class of the day, Sociology. It didn't start until 9:40, but I knew parking could be horrific with people coming and going. Plus, it was in building in the back of the campus which meant more walking. I figured if I was very early, I could hang out in the library. As it turned out, I was only early by a few minutes.

A group of people were already standing around outside the classroom, which was obviously locked. I decided to take out my phone and check Facebook messages while we waited for the teacher. A shadow suddenly cast over my phone, and I felt the presence of someone tall standing in front of me. Not looking up, I barely caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes as the person bent toward me, clearly trying to get my attention.

"Hello," he said in a British accent. Okay, attention got. I looked up to see one of the cutest boys I'd ever seen in my life. No exaggeration. He couldn't have been more than twenty, with long, wavy brown hair that brushed his shoulders. He had lovely, full lips that any woman would be envious of, which curved lopsided into a confident, yet inquiring grin that could melt even the coldest heart of any angst-ridden young girl. I surely didn't remember seeing any boys that cute when I was that age.

"Hi," I said, turning off my phone.

"You're in my History class, aren't you?" he asked.

"I don't know," I smiled. "Am I?"

He nodded, "Yesterday. Professor Jacobson. Right side, front row."

My smile grew. "Yes." He had noticed me?

"I was a few rows back."

"Oh." I couldn't wipe the stupid grin off my face, and I felt myself blush a little.

"I'm Harry," he said, extending his hand.

"Tisa," I replied. "Nice to meet you."

"Pretty name, Tisa. Is that short for something?"

"No, just Tisa" I said, pushing a strand of hair that had fallen in my face behind my ear. "I guess it's sort of like Teresa meets Tina meets Lisa. My mom just wanted to make me different."

Harry continued his lopsided smile at me as he let his gaze drift up and down my body. I suddenly felt self-conscious, but also a little aroused.

Just then a plump, boisterous man in a caramel-colored jacket and khakis walked up and unlocked the classroom door. Assuming he was the teacher, everyone began to follow him inside.

This classroom was different from the large, auditorium style in which Harry and I attended History class. This was about half the size and included multiple large, black tables, with two chairs each, much like my old high school Chemistry lab. I chose the second table to my right and sat in the seat next to the aisle.

"Mind if I take the seat next to you, Tisa?" I heard Harry ask.

"Not at all."

He placed his backpack on the table beside me and sat down. I noticed that in front of us was some sort of survey to fill out for the teacher. I grabbed my own backpack and unzipped it to find something with which to write.

"I don't believe it!" I heard Harry exclaim. "Fucking..." Then he looked at me. "Sorry."

"What's wrong?" I asked with a smirk. His accent was adorable, even when cursing.

"I forgot my bloody pen."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I pulled two pens out of my backpack and handed him one.

"Thanks, love." Harry took the pen from my hand, but then quickly grabbed my hand itself, his eyes wide with surprise. "Is that a wedding ring? Are you married?"

For one split second I silently cursed myself for wearing my rings. But what good would it have done not to? The truth was and was always going to be that I was married.

"Yes, it is, and yes, I am."

"Oh."

He slowly released my hand from his grip. The disappointment on his face couldn't be denied. I saw it plain as day. It made my heart ache, and I felt the bile rise in my throat. Then I did as I always do in an uncomfortable situation. I used humor to diffuse the tension.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Harry. If you want to take this opportunity to switch seats next to a single girl, I'll totally understand."

This time Harry smirked. "No...no, I'm fine right here."

"I wouldn't blame you," I shrugged. "I mean, I'm flattered that you wanted to sit beside me anyway, but I'm sure there's some other girls in here who would love to flirt with a cute British guy. It wouldn't hurt my feelings."

I heard someone behind me snicker. Harry just stared at me for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I want to sit here."

"Okay," I gave him a sweet smile.

Just then the teacher stood in front of the class. "Alright guys, these are going to be your seats for the rest of the semester. The person sitting next to you will be your partner. Your study partner, your project partner. Make sure you choose wisely. You might end up hating them by the end of the semester." The class broke into laughter. "If you do not have a partner, please move to another table that has only one person..."

"Well, Harry," I turned to him. "Looks like you're stuck with me. No take backs."

Harry grinned his lopsided smile again which sent shivers down my spine. "I like you. You're funny. And nice. And pretty."

"Well, I don't know about pretty, but funny and nice are two things I strive to be."

"You're husband's a lucky man."

I stared at him for a second. He had the most gorgeous green eyes. If only I wasn't married. If only I was twenty again. If only...

"You're sweet," I said.

"What do you have after this?"

"Sorry?" I was still distracted from Professor Crawford's introductory speech.

"What class do you have after this one?" Harry asked again.

"Oh..." I hesitated, putting my laptop in my backpack. "Nothing. This is the only class I have on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Too bad," Harry pouted. I raised an eyebrow to inquire what he meant. "I was hoping I'd luck out and have another class with you." He was too cute.

"What class do you have now?" I asked him.

"Biology."

"Have fun with that," I said sarcastically. "I was never into Science. Except in the second grade when we learned about space and the solar system. I still have my planets memorized. And I will always consider Pluto a planet, no matter what the scientists or NASA say."

I realized I was talking too much so I shut up. I also realized we were now walking together outside. We were nearing the parking lot, but my car was on the clear other end. Harry stopped when we reached a fork in the sidewalk.

"Well, my class is this way," he pointed.

"Alright then, Harry, guess I'll see you tomorrow in History."

"I hope so," he nodded.

"Bye," I waved. I took off toward my car quickly before I got the urge to look back at his smile, which I knew without a doubt he was giving me.

That night James again asked me how my day went and if I'd "made any friends." I told him about being paired with a boy that sat next to me in Sociology and that we would have to work together the entire semester on papers and projects. I revealed nothing else, and he didn't ask. But when I went to bed all I could picture in my head were lopsided smiles and green eyes.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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whitehotharlots · 2 years ago

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3 reasons AI might actually take over (even though it sucks)

I appreciate the handful of writers who have attempted to push back against the inane and zealous tide of AI boosterism. Some have pointed out, correctly, that the recent slew of AI puff pieces are no less fraudulent than the Cryptomania of the early 2020′s, or the complete bullshit assertions that we’re perpetually just a year or two away from self-driving cars becoming a reality. Others have pointed that AI simply doesn’t work very well: anyone who claims we’re on the cusp of robots replacing actual human communication is either a moron or a lunatic.

The trouble is, this country is run by morons and lunatics. A new technology need not be good or functional in order to become a part of our daily lives and transform our social fabric. It only needs funding and enthusiasm.

Here are three reasons why some sort of AI takeover might actually be inevitable, regardless of the quality of its output or the disastrous effects it may wreak upon our culture:

1. Grant Funding: anything that might hypothetically bring down labor costs will receive massive amounts of public and private grant funding. The grift goes like this: dimwitted academics and thinktank writers whitewash the horrible effects of the new tech and overinflate its potential worth, and in exchange they get money. Very simple. These grants are awarded solely the most credulous and amoral of researchers, whose work is guaranteed to produce results favorable to the funders. Remember, there’s no such thing as academic integrity.

You give a sociology professor 25 grand and three months, she’ll give you a study demonstrating how Dogechat is completely indistinguishable from human speech... anyone who disagrees is a fascist, perhaps even Russian. Humanities profs are even cheaper--you don’t even have to pay us. Give an English grad student a CV line, she will explain how it’s ableist to not let students us AI to write papers and screech violently at anyone who attempts to say otherwise.

2. Terrifying Generational Differences: If you’re over 25 or so, you can easily differentiate between actual art and speech and that which has been produced by AI. But if you were born after, say, 2005? That's difficult...

This has yet to be seriously studied, but we now have a generation of burgeoning teens who grew up raised not just on social media but whose formative content experiences were videos like "Elsa from Frozen is Pregnant and She Goes to the Dentist.” On a very deep level, these young people might not understand humanity and its cultures in the manner we understand them. You go a decade deeper and get kids who learned how to speak when masks were mandated and Zoom replaced real life... it's gonna get bad.

Studios can easily bank on this. Yes, old people might not like to watch a stream of empty, eerie cultural symbols smearing senselessly into one another, glitching out like a strobe light, mutating hideously with no regard to rhythm or narrative: a phantasmagoria no human mind would ever dare process, let alone generate. But those people are old, like I said. Kids today, they love this shit.

3. Nerds Love Garbage, and Nerds Control Everything: To your average nerd, (lefties primarily, but conservatives are not immune) the only purpose of art is to confirm the beliefs they already hold. AI does this better than even the most beaten-down human possibly could. Imagine a world in which bad thoughts are never depicted. They CANNOT be depicted, because they fall outside what the AI is literally allowed to show. That, my friends, is Social Justice. In this case, AI isn’t just good: anyone who opposes it is an enemy of progress who is an unsafe presence who causes hurt and even listening to their arguments is an act of violence.

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csa-survivor-confessions · 1 year ago

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You've probably answered this before, but do you think a survivor of SA can safely engage in consensual non-consent play without hurting themselves mentally or romanticizing the abuse they suffered? Asking for meeeee, I'd really like to experiment with varying forms of this type of play but I'm wondering how cautious I should be or if there are any precautions I should take?

Hello,

Being cautious is the key word here. We have a general policy that just straight-up saying "do" or "don't" participate in terms of kink is not particularly helpful. Why people are interested in certain sexual activities has a complex place in psychology, sexology and sociology. There is the social context people grow up in, family situations, inborn tendencies/temperament, how people are educated about sex, early experiences around sex and trauma people have been through. Because there are layered reasons people might be interested in something like CNC how one ought to participate in a practice like that is going to be complicated.

What I can say certainly is that extreme caution is a must. In general high caution in participating in something like CNC is hugely important, but even more so for survivors of past sexual violence. Some survivors say that CNC and BDSM in general was healing for them. There are also people who did so and found themselves more re-traumatized and further hurt. Being careful is so so important so that it doesn't cause more pain.

Generally, you must find a partner(s) you trust that will respect your boundaries and check in as you go. I know checking in might not be a typical part of every practice but I think it is something to take into account the trauma history. Make sure the dialogue and communication are fully open and that they are listening.

Make sure you have a good tool kit of coping skills and that you have worked on being connected to your body. Because staying aware of yourself is super important. If you start to feel yourself dissociate, panic, have flashbacks, pain or any other trauma response (any of the stress responses freeze included) please stop the scene. It's incredibly important to not push yourself. Pushing yourself when you feel trauma responses will lead to re-traumatization There should be more along the lines of releasing the traumatic stress not reactivating it and enforcing it.

It could be good to talk to your partner about the way you experience trauma responses so you can make sure you're working with each other. And if they have trauma that might be re-activated you can be helpful and supportive of them.

If you ever feel like you're not being listed to, feel pressured to do something you don't want to do or they ever do something that was not agreed upon do your best to try and leave. I know if this is a relationship important to you getting stuck in an abusive relationship is so common and even more so for survivors of childhood trauma. I know it's hard and you are never at fault for being hurt and abused and not weak if leaving an abusive partnership is hard. But please consider the lines and boundaries you have set up and know being respected even if you are doing a scene surrounding non-consent is so so important.

Do your research. Make sure you are knowledgeable and have an understanding. Try and be aware of how your body feels when reading different aspects that could be involved if there is stress consider if this particular thing is something you might want to do.

Another thing to be aware of if you do this is how you feel afterwards. If you feel are feel disgusted with yourself or your partner, if you are left with more anxiety, if other trauma symptoms seem worse or other painful things take this into account. If it is not something bringing you excitement, pleasure or other good feeling then it might not be worth it.

If you are stuck in a cycle of feeling more hurt then it can become more along the lines of self-harm instead of something you enjoy.

When it comes to romanticization it can be complicated to look at. I think fo housing on the above would be more helpful than dealing with this slightly nebulous concept. I do have personal feelings on the topic but I think making sure you are not being harmed by the practice in more direct traumatic-centered ways than the more cultural space. Do be aware though if you are falling into a place where you are making more excuses for your abuser or dismissing it as good or not really abuse. That I know has happened for some people.

I really hope this is helpful for you.

Be Blessed,

-Admin 2

#ask #advice #cnc mention #kink mention #childhod trauma #trauma

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outercrasis · 4 years ago

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Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about.

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors.

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear.

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet.

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke.

"Well okay, Grogu it is."

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric.

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler.

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando.

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself.

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

taglist: @honestly-shite

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #college!din #college!mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #mandocrasis fic #sessions

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thecaffeinebookwarrior · 4 years ago

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Monster of the Week: A Writer’s Guide to Vampires!

The Basics: Vampires From Around the World

Almost every culture has its vampires, and they go way beyond Dracula and Nosferatu.

There are obviously too many to include in one post, so here are a few especially unique vamps to get you inspired and interested in learning more!

The Penanggalan, Malaysia - Literally meaning ‘to detach,’ the Penanggalan is an exclusively (apparently) female creature.

By day, she masquerades as a normal woman (and let’s be real, don’t we all.) But by night, her head detaches from her body and floats around, entrails hanging like tentacles -- which they nightmarishly use to entangle their victims -- and preys on pregnant woman and babies. Lovely.

Creepily, the Penanggalan gravitates towards day jobs such as midwifery, so she can get closer to her prospective prey.

The Manananggal, Philippines - Much like the Penanggalan, the Manananggal has an unfortunate habit of detaching parts of her body to fly around. Described as an “ugly, hideous woman” (mood), the Manananggal can detatch her whole-ass torso to fly around like a bat.

Like the Penanggalan, she preys on pregnant woman and unborn babies, with, creepily, her incredibly long tongue. Some, however, prefer to seduce and prey on men -- preferable, to be honest -- in which case they appear young and beautiful.

The Upir, Eastern Europe - Ukrainian, Belarusian, Russian, Romanian, and Czech cultures all have mythos around this abnormally bloodthirsty vampire. Not only do upirs drink the blood of their victims, but they bath and sleep in it. They eat the flesh of their victims as well, and are especially partial to the heart. In a uniquely sadistic detail, the Upir is thought to consume the children of a family and then the parents.

The Alukah, Judaism - Literally meaning “horse-leach,” the Alukah is one of the earliest vampires, originating in the Bible.

A fixture of Jewish folklore, and sometimes described as a demon or witch, the Alukah is unique in the fact that she is not undead but a living, shapeshifting being (according to the description in Sefer Hasidim.)

She can fly by unfurling her long hair.

The Brahmaparusha, India - This nightmarishly extra vampire will drink the drained blood of its victims from a skull (which it carries around at all times), before noshing on their brains and wearing their intestines as necklaces and crowns. Worst of all, this vampire has an unusually ravenous appetite, and consumes several victims per night.

The Callicantzaros, Greece - In Greece, children born between Christmas and Twelfth Night were thought to be bad luck (?) and susceptible to vampirism. The Callicantzaros was considered to be egregiously unpleasant, equipped with devilish talons with which to tear victims to shreds. Their first victims, post-transformation, were supposed to be their own siblings.

Unfortunately, this led to a degree of mistreatment and hostility towards children born during this period, as parents watched for signs of their progeny’s prospective vampirism. In order to ensure that they didn’t become Callicantzaros, the children’s feet were dangled above a fire, like a reverse Achilles.

Vampire weaknesses:

Garlic - This one’s not just particular to Western mythos. Southeast and far Eastern vamps like the Manananggal are also vulnerable to garlic.

Salt - The Manananggal is vulnerable to salt, as are vampires from most cultures in which salt is considered holy or purifying.

Silver - A holy metal. The origin of the “vampires can’t see themselves in mirrors” myth is because it used to be a component in mirror-making.

Vinegar - Again with the Manananggal.

Daggers/stakes/sharp objects - Especially through the vampire’s heart. In many cultures, burning the heart is also advisable. Be careful, though: sometimes, staking an upir will only bring them back to life stronger.

Dismemberment and fire - Most vamps are susceptible to this, including the Penanggalan. The only sure way to kill an upir is to decapitate them and burn the remains.

Counting - Much like the Count of Sesame Street, vamps can’t resist counting things. If you scatter some small, countable objects on the ground, the vampire will have to stop and count each one.

The tails of stingrays - in the case of the Manananggal.

Sunlight - Obviously. Though not universal, this pops up in vampire mythology around the world, including the Manananggal.

Detachment - when the Penanggalan and Manananggal detach their heads and torsos, their discarded torsos and lower bodies are vulnerable. In the case of the Manananggal, sprinkling the discarded legs with garlic and salt. The Mananggal will not be able to return to its lower body, and will perish with the rising sun.

Starvation - The Alukah can be starved if she’s prevented from eating for long enough.

Stupidity - In the case of the Penanggalan. If you turn the Penanggalan’s body upside down, she’ll re-attach backwards. I’m not sure what the purpose of this is, except the exhilaration of punking a vampire and making them walk around on their hands all day like a jackass.

Protection:

Thorns around windows - Thorns will keep the Penanggalan from harassing you or your unborn children.

Strings of garlic - Just make sure SOME IDIOT doesn’t take them down (RIP Lucy from Dracula.)

Pots of uncooked rice, ash, or salt - Repellent to the Manananggal.

Running away and hiding - Basically the only method of recourse against the Brahmaparasha.

Eating bread infused with an upir’s blood - Sounds kinky, to be honest.

Stay on sacred ground - I.e. graveyards and churches. Just be sure you’re not trying to avoid the kind of vampire that dwells in graveyards if you go for the latter.

Holy water, crucifixes, silver, et cetera - Anything sacred or holy. Varies based on culture.

Imbibing the ash of a supposed vampire’s burnt heart - I’m not even going to joke about this one, since people actually did this during the vampire scare of New England (my homeland.) I learned about it from a book about local vampire encounters at the Newport Public Library at age twelve, and it scarred me.

Dangle your baby above a fire - Actually, no, PLEASE don’t do that. But that’s what seventeenth century Greeks did to prevent their kids from turning into Callicantzaros.

Age of consent laws - Specifically for Edward from Twilight.

Don’t get a welcoming mat - Counts as inviting them in. Duh.

Ways to Become A Vampire:*

*Ask your doctor if becoming a vampire is right for you.

Biting - Obviously. Though if you read Dracula and early accounts of vampirism, it was more of a slowly progressing illness than a sudden transformation.

Reject Christianity - In the case of upirs. More specifically, the church buried non-believers outside of graveyards, leading them to rise as servants of the Devil. Honestly, I feel like the church kind of brought that on themselves.

Be born between Christmas and Twelfth Night - At least if you’re in seventeenth century Greece.

Be influenced by the Devil while dying - Another version of the Upir origin.

Be a demon possessing a corpse - One prospective explanation for the Brahmaparusha.

Making a pact to obtain eternal youth and beauty that involves not eating meat for 40 days and then breaking it like some kind of an IDIOT - One version of the Penanggalan origin myth. I shouldn’t judge, my self-control isn’t great either.

Get startled by a man while meditating in a bath and jerk your head so hard that it flies off and at the interloper in fury - Another prospective version of the Pennangalan origin. Relatable, honestly.

Be so bitter and jealous of couples that you go on an insane killing spree of pregnant woman and get publicly executed by being ripped in two - The Pennangalan, again. She makes the Kardashians look tame.

Chanting an incantation, anointing yourself with oil, and purchasing a black chick - In the case of the Manananggal. The black chick reportedly lives inside the Manananggal, eating its innards while also acting as its life source. Honestly, after all the drama of the Penanggalan’s origins, this seems reasonable.

Other Sources

Video Essays:

The Power of the Vampire Myth - A superb sociological dive into the cultural significance of vampires. From the post WWI antisemitism of Nosferatu to their ability to subvert the Hays Code, vampires tend to reflect the shadows of every society.

Dracula: A Brief History of Eternity

CREEPIEST Vampire Legends from Around the World

Vampires: Folklore, Fantasy, and Fact

How did Dracula become the world’s most famous vampire?

Vlad the Impaler: The Real Life Dracula

Influential Vampire Fiction:*

*That I’ve read/seen so far.

Dracula - Duh. The greatest adaptation of which is, obviously, Dracula: Dead and Loving it.

Nosferatu - It’s good to be aware of its antisemetic overtones, but it’s still revolutionary at evoking dread.

Varney the Vampire - A penny dreadful series that helped popularize vampires in Victorian England. It gets bonus points for sounding like a children’s show.

Camilla - The ORIGINAL lesbian vampire, predating Dracula by decades. Became an adorable webseries and movie, which I recommend even more than the original novel.

‘Salem’s Lot - Serves as a study of what makes vampires scary in the modern era.

Underworld - Aside from serving as a badass alternative in the Twilight era, it merits inclusion exclusively for causing my Sapphic awakening at age twelve.

What We Do In the Shadows - Has a unique understanding of the cultural significance of vampires, and why they appeal to societal misfits. Also has vampire “children” who eat p*dophiles.

Vampires in the Lemon Grove - The titular story is one of the most unique interpretations of vampires that I’ve seen in the modern era. Beautiful language that evokes a powerful emotional response.

Twilight - Exclusively because it gave us Rosemary clocking shop in a wedding gown. And the baseball scene.

Nonfiction:

The Encyclopedia of Vampires, Werewolves, and Other Monsters

From Demons to Dracula: The Creation of the Modern Vampire Myth

Vampires and Vampirism: Legends from Around the World

New Orleans Vampires: History and Legend

Mummies, Cannibals, and Vampires: The History of Corpse Medicine

A History of Vampires in New England

Happy Halloween, and happy writing, everybody!

#creature feature #halloween #halloween 2020 #vampires #mythology #writing resources #writing advice #legends #folklore #gifs for ts

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freddiekluger · 4 years ago

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Why Cap Being Internally Closeted Is Not Only Possible, But Valid Representation

i wrote this to a lot of mitski and onsind, so you can’t blame me for any feelings that bleed through

now i don’t know if it actually exists, but i’ve heard of there being a lot of discourse surrounding the captains story arc regarding his sexuality- i believe the general gist is that having a queer character that remains closeted to themselves is either unrealistic or ‘bad’ representation, and as someone who really treasures the captain and relates to his story so far a lot, i thought i might break this down a bit.

i’ve divded up every complaint i’ve heard about this into four main questions which i’ll be covering below the ‘keep reading’, because this is gonna be pretty comprehensive. full disclaimer i reference my experiences as an ex-evangelical non binary butch lesbian a couple times, and i spent a year studying repression and the psychological impacts of high demand sexual ethics for my graduating sociology paper, so this is coming with some background to it i swear

the big questions:

can you EVEN be gay and not know it????

but isn't this just ANOTHER coming out arc, and aren't we supposed to be moving beyond those?

but if cap can't have a relationship with a man because he's a ghost, what's the point?

since cap's dead, isn't this technically bury your gays, and isn't that bad?

1. "but is it really possible to not know? Isn't that bad representation?"

short answer: no and no.

before i get into the validity of the captain's ignorance about his own orientation as 21st century rep, let's break down how the hell the captain can be so clearly attracted to men and still not even consider the possibility that he might be gay, as brought to you by someone who literally experienced this shit.

the captain's particular situation is both a direct result of the lack of information around human sexuality he would have had (aka clear messaging that it's actually possible for him to be attracted to men. i don't mean acceptable or allowed, i mean physically capable of happening- the idea that orientations other than heterosexual exist and are available to him, a man), and a subconscious survival mechanism. the environment in which he lives is outright hostile to gay people, while the military man identity he has constructed for himself doesn't allow for any form of deviation from societal norms, let alone one so base level and major. as a result of this killer combo of information and environment, instincts take over and the mind does it's best to repress the ‘deviant’ feelings until a. one of these two things changes, or b. the act of repression becomes so destructive and/or exhuasting that it becomes impossible to maintain. the key to maintaining a long-term state of repression of desire is diverting that energy elsewhere, and a high-demand group such as the military is the perfect place for the captain to do this (this technqiue is frequented by religions and extremist ideologies worldwide, but that’s not really what we’re here to focus on).

while the brain is actively repressing ‘deviant’ feelings (aka gay shit), this doesn't mean you don't experience the feelings at all. when performed as a subconscious act of survival, the aim of repression is to minimise/transform the feelings into a state where they can no longer cause immediate danger, and something as big as sexual/romantic orientation is going to keep popping up, but as long as the individual in question never understands what they’re feeling, they’ll be able to continue relatively undisturbed. you know how in heist movies, the leader of the group will only tell each team member part of the plan so they can’t screw things up for everyone else if they get caught? it’s kind of like that.

this is how the captain appears to have operated in life AND in death, and it’s a relatively common experience for lgbtq people who’ve grown up in similar circumstances (aka with a lack of information and in an unfriendly-to-hostile environment), and accounts for how some people can even go on to get married and have children before realising that they’re gay and/or trans.

personally, while i can now identify what were strong homo crushes all the way back to childhood, at the time i genuinely had no idea. there was the underlying sense that i probably shouldn't tell people how attached i was to these girls because i would seem weird, and that my feelings were stronger than the ones other people used to describe friendships, but like-like them in the way that other girls like-liked boys? no way! actually scratch that, it wasn't even a no way, because i had no idea that i even could. i even had my own havers, at least in terms of the emotional hold and devotion she got from me, except she treated me way less well than cap’s beau. snatches of the existence of lgbt people made it through the cone of silence, i definitely heard the words gay and lesbian, but my levels of informations mirrored those that the captain would have had: virtually none, beyond the idea that these words exist, some people are them, and that's not something that we support or think is okay, so let's just not speak about it. despite only attending religious schools for the first couple years of primary, until i got my own technology and social media accounts to explore lgbtq content on my own- option a out of the two catalysts for change- the possibility of me being gay was not at all on my radar. don’t even get me started on how long it took me to explore butchness and my overall gender, two things which now feel glaringly obvious.

when shit starts to break down, you can also make the conscious choice to repress which can delay the eventual smashing down of the mental closet door for a time (essentially when the closet door starts to open, you just say ‘no thanks’ and shut it again by pointedly Not Thinking About It). in the abscence of identifying yourself by your attractions, it becomes quite common to identify with a lack- in my case, this meant becoming proud of how sensible and not boy crazy i was, and in the captain’s case, this means becoming proud of how sensible and not sensuous/wild (aka woman crazy) he was, identifying with his LACK of desire for women and partying (which, even in the 40s, involved the expectation of opposite sex romances and hook ups). i’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s a rule follower, but i think the contrast between About Last Night and Perfect Day pretty much support this. (the captain getting on his high horse about general party antics that he inherently felt excluded from because of underlying awareness of his difference & his tendency to project his regimented expectations of himself onto others, vs. joining in the reception party, awareness of how the environment supports difference in the form of clare and sam, and relaxing his own rules by dancing with men- the captain doesn’t mind a party when feels like he has a place there.)

so the captain was operating in a high demand, highly regulated environment (primarily the military, but also early 20th century England itself), with regimented roles, rules, and expectations. working on the assumption that he wouldn't have had out/disclosing lgbt friends, he would have had little to no exposure to lgbt identities, and what information he did receive would have been hushed and negatively geared. while my world started to open up when i started high school was allowed to have my own phone + instagram account, resulting in me realising something wasn't quite 'right' within a few years (making me a relatively early realiser compared to those who don't come out to themselves until adulthood), in life the captain never had that experience. he didn't receive the information he needed, his environment didn't grow less hostile. with the near-exception of havers related heartbreak, his well disciplined and lifelong method of repression never became destructive/exhaustive enough to permanently override the danger signals in his mind and allow him to put his feelings into words. neither of the most common catalysts for change happened for him, so he continued as usual, even after his death.

BUT, and here’s where we come to why this is actually great representation, arrival of mike and Alison represents the opening up of new world. for the first time, the captain is actively made aware of the fact that his environment is no longer hostile, and better than that, it’s affirming. he’s also getting access to positively geared information about lgbtq people and identities, so option a of the two catalysts for change is absolutely present, and resoundingly positive.

the captain’s arc is also relatively unique as it acknowledges the oppressive nature of his environment, but actually focuses on the internal consequences, and the way that systems like those that the captain lived in succeed because they turn us into our own oppressors. for whatever reason, we repress ourseslves, and often can’t help it, and i find that the significance of the journey to overcome that is often overlooked in more mainstream queer media. perhaps it’s just not very cinematic, or it remains too confronting for cishet audiences, but ghosts manages to touch on it with a lovely amount of humour and hope. Jamie Babbit’s But I’m A Cheerleader is another favourite piece of queer media for the same reasons.

not only does it show this, but as the captain continues to get gayer and lean into some of his less conventional traits (like an interest in fashion and the wedding planning), it shows lgbt people who have been or are going through this that there CAN be a positive outcome. it takes a lot to unlearn all the things that have painted you as wrong, especially when a massive institution is desperate to continue doing so, but you can do it, you can be happy, and it's never too late. (i've been meaning to say that last point for ages for ages, but a mutual beat me to it here)

2. not just another coming out arc

i absolutely support the demand for queer stories that don’t center around coming out (it’s like shrodinger’s queer: if you’re not coming out on screen, do you really even exist?), but i don’t align with the criticisms that the captain should already be out. for the reasons mentioned above, the captain’s particular story is fairly different to the ‘young white teenager who mostly knows gay is fine, it’s just everyone else that’s got the problem, but have a unremarkably straight sounding soundtrack, a trauma porn romance, and a cishet saviour’ that we keep seeing. the captain’s ongoing journey with his sexuality emphasises the overaching theme of the show: recovering from trauma and humanity’s endless capacity for growth, and i think that’s worth showing over and over again until it stops being true.

additionally, while the captain’s journey regarding his gayness is a big part of his character and story, ghosts makes it clear that it’s not the ONLY part, and being gay is far from his ONLY characteristic or dramatic/comedic engine. the fact that i’m even having to congratulate ghosts for doing that really shows how much film and television is struggling huh.

while all queer media is, and should be, subject to criticism, i think if it helps even one person then it absolutely deserves to exist, and i can say i’ve found the captain’s journey to be the lgbt story i’ve found that’s closest to my own, which says a lot considering he’s a dead world war 2 soldier who hangs out with other ghosts including a slutty Tory, a georgian noblewoman, and a literal caveman.

3. if captain gay, why he no have boyfriend????

another complaint that’s been circulating is that since the captain doesn’t, and likely won’t, have a boyfriend, that makes him Bad Representation because it follows the sad single gay trope. i kind of get the logic from this one, and a lot of it is up to personal interpretation, but part of me really enjoys the fact that the captain’s journey towards accepting himself is separated from having a relationship.

coming out is often paired with having romantic/sexual relationships (either as the reason or reward for doing so). my own struggle with repression didn't end the second that came out, and i still struggle with letting myself develop & acknowledge romantic feelings as a result of actively shutting them (and most other feelings in general) down for years, and statistics show that lgbtq youth in particular tend not to live out their 'teen years' until their twenties. by not giving cap a relationship straight away, ghosts separates the act of claiming identity and sexual orientation from finding a partner (two things which are, more often than not, separate), and also provides some very nice validation to folks who have yet to have the relationship they want, especially when lots of mainstream queer media is now jumping on the cishet media bandwagon of acting as if every person loses their virginity and has a life defining relationship at sixteen. it’s essentially a continuation of the earlier theme of “it’s never too late”, and who’s to say the captain won’t get a gay bear ghost boyfriend to go haunt nazis with??? people die all the time, it could happen.

(also, i think him and julian will have definitely shagged at least once. it was a low moment for both of them and they refuse to speak of it.)

lots of asexual/ace spectrum fans have come out to say how much they’ve loved being able to headcanon cap as ace, and while that’s not a headcanon i personally have, i think it’s brilliant that ace fans feel seen by his character- we’re all in this soup together babey (and sorry for cursing everyone still reading this with that cap/julian headcanon. i’m just a vessel)

4. “okay, but cap’s a GHOST- doesn’t that make this Bury Your Gays?”

this is a bit of a complex one, but i’m going to say no as a result of the following break down.

Bury Your Gays (BYG), aka the trope where lgbtq characters are consistently killed off (and often with a heavy dose of trauma, while cishet characters survive) is probably one of my least favourite lgbt media tropes. BYG has two main points:

1. the lgbt character is killed, thus removing them from story entirely- hence the use of the phrase ‘killed OFF’ (killed off of the show/film)

2. the character’s death reinforces the perception that lgbtq people’s lives must end in tragedy, instead of being long and fulfilling, or are inherently less valuable. bonus points if the character is killed in a hate crime or confesses same-gender love right before they die (that one implies that queer love genuinely has no future!)

not every death of an lgbtq character is bury your gays, and i personally feel that the captain is an example of an lgbt death that isn’t.

first of all, while the captain is dead, so are the vast majority of characters in ghosts. the premise of the show means that death is not the end of the line for its characters- for most of them, it’s the only reason we get to see them on screen at all. as such, the captain being dead doesn’t remove him from the story, so point one is irrelevant.

at the time of posting, we don’t know how or why the captain died, but we've had nothing to suggest his death was in any way related to his latent sexuality, so his mysterious death doesn’t actively play into the supposedly inherent tragedy of queer lives, nor the supposedly lesser value. that’s as of right now- since we don’t know the circumstances of his death it’s a little tough to analyse properly. while the captain’s life absolutely features missed opportunities and it’s fair share of tragedy, hope and growth (which seems to be the theme of this post) abounds in equal measure. the captain may not be alive, but we DO get to see him growing and having a relatively happy existence, that for the most part seems to be getting even better as he learns to open up and be himself unapologetically- that doesn’t feel like BYG to me.

while writng this, it’s just occured to me that death really is a second chance for most of the ghosts, especially with the introduction of alison. from mary learning to read, to thomas finding modern music, they’ve all been given the chance explore things they never could have while they were alive, and hopefully grow enough to one day be sucked off move on.

in conclusion,

i love the captain very much and i hope his arc lives up to the standards it’s set so far. i don’t know where to put this in this post, but i’d alo like to say i LOVE how in Perfect Day, the captain wasn’t used as an educational experienced for fanny at all. i am very tired of people expecting me to be the walking talking homophobe educator and rehabilitator, so the fact that it’s alison and the other ghosts that call fanny out while the captain just gets to have fun with the wedding organisation made me very happy.

here’s a few other cap posts that i’ve done:

the captain’s arc if adam and the film crew stayed

a possible cap coming out

the captain backstory headcanon

if you’ve read this far,

thank you!

also check out @alex-ghosts-corner , this post inspired me very much to write this

#i subluxed all my fingers and wrists doing this but worth it #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts headcanon #bbc ghosts analysis #the captain #caphavers #the captain x havers #ben willbond #lgbt representation #lgbt rep #queer media #lgbt media

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cannotescape · 4 years ago

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Gretchen's experiment is unsociological, actually

I'll try to explain to the best of my ability why Gretchen's experiment feels so off. Spoilers: it's because it's dumb af and could never have happened in real life. Let's begin!

Before anything, I would like to state that yeah, I'm aware that Gretchen's experiment is meant to be flawed because she's a villain, and the show wants to drive the point home. Were there subtler ways to do it without making her completely idiotic? Maybe. But I would have accepted it if the show hadn't try to pass this experiment as sociological, when it just... isn't.

Why the experiment couldn't have happened in real life:

- the funding: it's well known: getting grants to fund your research project is hell, especially in humanities or social science, where private investors can't make money on your results lol. So Gretchen being able to conduct not one, but probably two experiments on an island? excuse me while I laugh

ok to be fair, the funding is kinda explained: she obviously managed to convince private investors (but even that isn't really explained yet like... what did she promise them? that the results would be good for them? that they could use the results for their own interest? <== all of these are unsociological. you can't predict the results and absolutely can't convince someone of what results you're gonna get before the experiment even starts wtf).

- the ethics: like we all know this shit isn't legal anyway, but let's pretend it is for a minute. Is it ethical? the answer couldn't be more obvious. Why is it important in the sociological field though? Ethics in science has been an ongoing issue: how to treat the test subjects obviously, but also how people could use the results your research produces (hi Oppenheimer!). Among social science and humanities disciplines, sociological studies (and psychological studies) are more likely to be unethical, because you're directly studying humans and human interactions.

More and more ethical committees are created in universities and you can be sure that Gretchen's experiment wouldn't have been approved (is it why she's been fired in the first place?). Actually, having Gretchen be independant from any university kinda helps to remove the ethical question from the equation: she doesn't have to be approved by her peers ==> she can do all the unethical shit she wants and hurts young girls. great.

That being said, and because sociological studies are at risk of being unethical, we learn pretty early on how to make our studies ethical. the first rule being: you have to inform the participants in the study that they're being studied lol. you can't just go behind their back and do everything you want. And yeah, it can make them more suspicious and their behavior may change, but if you're a good sociologist, this is something you can analyze! First rule of sociology: everything is worth noticing. And after a while (or if your poll has a lot of respondents), the discrepencies disappear anyway. Also a very important thing: as a researcher, you're not here to help people or make them feel better (or worse for that matter), you're here to observe and draw conclusions. You have to try and have as little influence on the experiment as possible.

obviously, Gretchen failed all those rules. The "they're on their own" speech doesn't hold up because she influenced the study from the start by choosing the girls, which leads us to...

- the sample: this is probably the dumbest thing in the experiment lmao. Because... what is Gretchen trying to prove? that women are essentially better rulers than men or can create a better society if they're left by themselves (feel free to correct me on this one. my brain mysteriously shut down each time Gretchen started to talk). For one, removing girls from a patriarchal society won't make them forget what's been ingrained in them for years and how society has built them to begin with. As teenage girls, the unsinkable 8 have already suffered from primary (their family) AND secondary socialization (school, friends etc.) Their behavior, personality and aspiration in life have been altered by society, and we actually see it in the show! Removing them now and acting like what they're doing is in no way linked to the way society shaped them is???? astounding.

Side note but a scientifically better (but even more horrific) experiment would have been a group of girls, separated from the rest of society at birth, with the unsinkable 8 as a group control.

Even more ridiculous than that: Gretchen is trying to prove this... with 8 american girls... who obviously haven't been chosen at random... like... there's no way a real sociologist would do this. We learn in first year that we need to choose our analysis tools and our samples based on what we want to analyze. You want to analyze how patriarchy affect women and want to universalize your result? You can't choose qualitative tools, you'll have to use quantitative analysis lmao. And with a big fucking sample at that, a sample chosen randomly to display sub-groups if you want it to be representative. I'm talking thousands of people if it's only US centric. 8 fucking girls lol, give me a break.

To be fair, qualitative and quantitative works often complete each other, but Gretchen never mentions any quantitative analysis so I will take this as just another proof of her incompetence.

- Gretchen's theory: her theory itself is unsociological. It sounds a lot like essentialism which is... the opposite of sociology. Sociologists try to find social explanations (and not psychological or biophysical reasons) to an event or a behavior.

As stated, sociologists rarely try to prove things. They observe a phenomenon and ask themselves what could have caused it. One of the first things to do before a study is actually listing all the biases you could have about the subject (Durkheim's "prénotions") and letting them go or at least be aware of them so it won't hinder the results you could potentially find. The observation must be as impartial and non-judgemental as possible. In the show, Gretchen's prénotions are in full play: we live in a patriarchal society (this one is true, but you have to question it all the same), and women are better leaders than men. ==> unsociological

Again, I would have found the experiment part annoying but wouldn't have complained too much if the writers hadn't made it clear that they were trying to portray a sociological experiment lol. It was confirmed in an interview and the "field notes" are pretty telling. Actually, the field notes are a better sociological study than Gretchen's experiment, how sad. Beyond that, the method used by the characters in the show is also inspired by the sociological method:

- (so called) passive observation with the team watching and monitoring the girls from afar (but the team is still interfering so...)

- direct participative observation in Jeanette's case: you observe and take field notes while being immersed in the subjects' environement. Nora is doing this too actually: she's writing clear social facts in her notebook. "No one's cried for a while. No one even seems that afraid anymore. Still, it's been healing for some." This is sociological

- semi structured interviews in the bunker. They're probably the most sociological part of the experiment tbh. Ironic considering Faber is a psychologist but whatever. Toni's interview is the most representative of what a semi structured sociological interview looks like: the non-judgemental questions ("Why does seeing that make you smile?"), the follow-ups when the answer is unclear or could be more precise ("I'm wondering if you can expand on "cocktease"?"), the specific questions on what a subject thinks of a specific event and why they're thinking it in the first place without making assumptions ("Were any of you alarmed by Leah's behavior?"). It doesn't last long. When Toni answers evasively and doesn't cooperate, Faber drops the sociology charade: "It sounds to me like it was a pretty unsettling loss of control" lololol. neutrality who? You can also point out that something the subject said is at odds with something usually accepted, to better understand how they justify it (like when Faber says that Toni's "alone is safer" is not "the conventional wisdom"). All of this is sociological. Too bad the experiment is not. This interview is also a far cry from what Faber is doing to Leah in episode 6 (and there's 0 value to the "data" he pulled actually, sorry Gretchen).

- the fucking control group. It is a sociological tool. I know for a fact it won't be used well, for the same reasons the sample was a joke.

I don't know, I find it frustrating that the show is clearly trying to show Gretchen's experiment as flawed, while keeping a veneer of scientificity to hide behind. Gretchen is not, and could never be a sociologist,.

#the wilds #I guess Gretchen is part of the mad scientist trope. but I've never liked this trope tbh and again. it's not just an ethics thing #the theory itself is unsociological so...#I'm sorry this is so long. you can blame biology!anon and rfg for this #I absolutely love the show. I still think it would have been better with a less complex experiment plot and focusing on trauma #and what society does to teenage girls. the 'girls are natural leaders' theory is so weak compared to what is shown on screen #and no. I don't think that the point of the show. and if it is then 🙄#mine

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

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Prize Pt. 3 (Finale)

Ahoy! The last part of this commission is here! It was so hard to try and fit everything my client wanted into the fic overall, so I’m sorry if it might feel a little off. I did my best to give y’all a good end product! ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Pairing: Satan x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 3,700 ish Tags: Soft smut, fluffy stuff, confessions, Summary: The cards are all on the table and the game is revealed. An uncertain future is discussed and feelings are confessed.

Victory

The months following that fateful day you spent with Satan passed without much commotion. In fact, it felt as though the attempts at usurping your time had diminished since then. It was easy to fool yourself into thinking that they had simply gotten tired of the game they played. It was easier to believe they were all busy with the sudden influx of papers and projects that needed to be completed for classes or that they had other pressing matters to attend.

You didn’t think much of the fatigue or the nausea, chalking it up to having to pull multiple all-nighters in order to get things done on time. The changes in your sleep schedule were easily explained by your terrible habits; and the cravings you had for food you rarely even thought about could just be another symptom of your delusional state as you crammed as much information about Demonic History, Sociology and Sigil Writing as you could within the time allotted to you.

It wasn’t until you missed your monthly cycle more than once that you realized something was distinctly different. From the way the brothers treated you to your mood swings and the tenderness your body felt, it all started to click together. You waited another week, just in case the stress was causing you to be late, but when nothing came of it, you realized that there were certain things you needed to discuss.

“Can we study in your room?” you asked, veering from the usual path to the library and closer to the dorms. “There’s uh…some things I kinda want to discuss, but preferably not in public.”

Satan raised a brow at your request but said nothing, leading you to his room and quietly shutting the door behind him once you were safely within. You sat on his bed, staring mostly at the floor though your gaze flicked up to meet his eyes from time to time. The words you had to say were just at the tip of your tongue, but actually getting them out was going to be the hardest part.

“So, uhm…we need to talk,” you started.

“Yes, that much has been established already,” your demeanor concerned him to say the least. He pulled a chair over to sit across from you, “So, let’s talk.”

“There really isn’t a good way to say this...” you grimaced, already imagining the various tragic outcomes of what you were going to tell him, “but uh…I haven’t had my period this month.”

He blinked, processing what you were telling him. There was an unending awkward silence between the two of you that practically drove you mad. After several excruciating moments of stillness, Satan let out a deep sigh. You couldn’t interpret the meaning of his reaction and waited with bated breath for his reply.

“Is…Is that so. Is this the first time you’ve ah…missed it?” he struggled to understand your human anatomy. “Is this normal?”

“No, It’s not normal…it’s close to the second month I haven’t had it. I’m. I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”

He blinked slowly and exhaled deeply through his nose when he heard the news. It was impossible to read his expressions. His face remained impassive for a time before he broke out into a small smile, but that was quickly dashed away and replaced once again with concern. “I…See…Well, I suppose we do need to talk...”

It was your turn to be surprised. “What do you mean?”

Satan leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap and contemplated what he was about to tell you. Things were bound to reach this point anyway, but he was still nervous. He needed to deliver the information to you in the most matter of fact fashion, yet his voice still wavered a bit. “So, you know how you were told that you’re here in an exchange program to strengthen bonds between the realms?”

“Yes...”

“Well, Diavolo was pretty serious about the strengthening bonds and relationships part.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow very well.”

Satan sighed, hating to have to go into a long lecture, but it was the only way for you to properly understand the game they had played ever since you arrived. “To be blunt, Diavolo believes that the demon population is dwindling at an unacceptable rate. In an effort to bolster the population numbers, he started this exchange program as a trial run and requested that denizens of the House of Lamentation assist in his ah…competition to, you know….” he trailed off, not sure how to further explain things.

Ah, there it was. There wasn’t a need for Satan to continue. You had suspected something from the very start, just having your suspicions confirmed laid your doubts to rest. Your gut instincts had been correct, and all the effort you put into spending time with the man in front of you had paid off. It was a winning scenario for all parties. Diavolo’s trial was a success; and you were with someone that you chose to be with, so long as the child was his.

“I see...” you nodded. “Now everything makes sense...”

“I’m, well, I guess I should apologize for all of us, we’re sorry that we didn’t tell you. Rules and everything kept us from saying anything.”

You giggled, “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. I had an idea of what was going on pretty early.”

“You…you did?” Satan looked at you incredulously. He had thought he kept his end of the deal pretty well. He couldn’t speak for his brothers, but he knew for a fact that he hadn’t said anything incriminating nor did he do anything that felt obviously related to the competition.

“None of you are very good at hiding your intentions,” you shrugged, brushing his shock to the side and moving onto more pressing matters that you wanted to discuss. “How…how would you feel if you were the father of this child?”

“Me?” He could hardly believe his ears. He had played the game on the loosest terms, only interacting with you when he had to. The one time he did bed you, it had been in the heat of the moment and when he wasn’t completely himself. “As flattered as I am to hear this, I don’t know if I would be the best candidate for the father.” Even if he was completely elated at the idea, there was no confirmation that the child was his yet he couldn’t bring himself to celebrate his victory just yet. The child could belong to any one of his brothers.

“What if I want you to be the father?” you beckoned him to sit next to you on the bed, guiding his hand to your abdomen and letting him feel the life that was growing there. From there, it only took a little bit of magic to figure out if your suspicions were true. Unfurling a small tendril of magic to assess who the child might belong to. As soon as his magic made contact with the energy within you, there was no doubt in his mind it belonged to him.

“How’d you know?”

You smiled sweetly at him. “Well, let’s just say that out of all the times I’ve been with a demon, you were the only one who I let close when I was the most fertile.”

“Really? You chose me? Out of everyone else?” Realization dawned on his face when he realized you had actually played the rest of them at their own game. His face flushed with a mixture of excitement and bashfulness. He always knew he had the same chance as his brothers to win, however hearing that he had been chosen to win made his victory all the sweeter. He embraced you, tightly holding you against him and laid you down to cuddle in celebration. Satan won. Asmodeus had been first, the others had been more vocal and forward; but he was the victor in the end. It was a fact he struggled to grasp but having felt the life growing within you only confirmed it and it felt incredible.

“Yes, you,” you giggled at how incredulous he sounded. Kissing him softly on the forehead, you brushed his hair away from his eyes. “I’m glad it’s you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Satan heaved a heavy sigh of relief, the weight of guilt from hiding the competition away from you had stressed him to the point where he couldn’t sleep for many nights. Though the others had followed Diavolos orders and pursued you, he chose to let you come to him. It was a risk, but one that paid off in the end. Hearing that it was what you wanted warmed his heart, and he held onto you tightly in that relief.

The two of you laid mostly in silence together, every now and then murmuring a soft affirmation of your adoration for each other. Other than that, it was a simple, comfortable quiet you had grown accustomed to and cherished with him. You didn’t need to exchange words. Just enjoying his company was enough to have you feel satisfied and loved.

He still couldn’t get over the fact that even if none of the brothers had overtly said anything about the competition, you had been able to piece everything together on your own. There was an undeniable sexiness about how you had all of them eating out of the palm of your hand. To know that out of all his brothers, he was chosen gave him a rather smug sense of pride he couldn’t quite describe. It was easier to just show you his affection and his relief.

What was supposed to be an innocent study date turned into a serious conversation. In turn, that turned into a cuddling session once things were discussed and revealed. Everything being out in the open and on the table released so much of the tension you had been holding onto for so long that you found yourself quickly falling into a doze in Satan’s arms. His words earlier had given you so much reassurance that things would be alright. With the worst of your worries alleviated, you felt like you could properly rest for the first time in weeks.

Though, it seemed as if Satan had other ideas.

With the others out doing errands or going to meetings, it meant the whole dorm was empty; and he could be as vocal as he wanted to be when he was around you. Satan’s legs were tangled with your own, making it easy for him to roll his hips to you and let you feel just what you did to him by being close. His cock already half hard poked at your backside, and you let out a soft giggle as you were roused from your half-asleep state. “Really? This is all you can think about? Can’t we just have a cute cuddling moment here?”

“Well, how often do we get the whole place to ourselves? We can be as loud as we want and no one is here to judge.”

“Okay, well, when you put it that way, how can I resist.”

He wrapped his arms protectively over your abdomen pulling you flush against him as he peppered your neck with soft kisses. The dark mark he left weeks ago had long faded, but he wasn’t adverse to making a few more. You were now his after all. There was so much uncertainty about your future, but it would be fine as long as he was with you. Just the knowledge that he was willing to walk down that unpredictable path with you put you at ease. You sighed in content, melting into his embrace. Satan’s hands wandered away from your belly, trailing up to squeeze your tender breasts. You gasped, arching your back and inadvertently pressing your backside against the growing hardness in his pants.

He let out a soft laugh, loving how receptive your body was to all his touches. It was as if the two of you were meant to be. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but Satan couldn’t help but think meeting you was some stroke of destiny. To have you to himself like this only seemed to cement that notion in his mind.

His hips rocking into your backside became more incessant the more his need for you grew. Though it wasn’t as intense as it had been the last time, there was still an innate desire to mate with you. The kisses on your neck trailed lower to your collar bones. Satan’s hand moved from your breasts to snake under your top, easily peeling it off of you in one swift motion to reveal more skin for him to lavish with attention.

He wanted to do it properly this time, kiss you for hours on end and show you just how much he adored you. Spending so much time with you on the regular had only deepened his affections for you, and he wanted to show you that what he felt was beyond his base instincts. He had feelings past the need to claim and mate with you. He had thousands of years to temper himself into something more than a raging ball of impulse.

His hands returned to your breasts. He teased you through the fabric of your bra; and with every moan that came from your lips, you swore you could feel him grow harder. Satan’s breath felt so hot against your skin. Every kiss seemed to brand you with a heat that spread across your body before pooling between your legs. You groaned, struggling to free yourself from his grasp, but his legs around yours and his hands on your breasts kept you in place.

He made up for all the roughness last time with the sweetest kisses at your jawline and on the shell of your ear. Your nipples strained against the fabric of your bra as he continued to grope and play with your breasts until you were gasping his name, “Please… let me touch you too.”

Satan complied, if only so he could now see your face. As soon as you turned over, you pulled him into a deep kiss full of passion and lots of tongue. He hummed in approval of your enthusiasm, holding you flush against his chest. His hands wandered lower and played at the waistband of your bottoms for a brief moment while you kissed before they slid lower to rest at the swell of your ass. You were forced to break away when he abruptly gave your ass a firm squeeze. Chuckling at your surprised squeak as a result, he redoubled his efforts to work your bottoms off of you.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he poorly explained with a slight shrug.

In retaliation, your hand snaked between the two of you and fondled at the growing bulge in his pants. He let out a soft moan of appreciation once his crotch got more friction, and his hips instinctively moved to meet your touch. Satan wasn’t holding back on being vocal in his appreciation for you. With no one around to judge him, he was more than happy to let you know exactly how he felt about you. “Beautiful. Just beautiful,” he breathed in between the kisses you shared.

He maneuvered you to straddle him. In doing so, he found that he had the best view of you in this new position. With one hand firmly on your hip to keep you from going anywhere, his other hand was free to wander and explore your body as he wished. It only served to heighten his arousal as your clothed heat was constantly grinding against his hardening cock.

It was unfair how many clothes he managed to keep on when you were half naked on top of him. While his hand squeezed your breast and teased your nipple, you focused your concentration on evening the playing field. It was no easy task as every piece of clothing you managed to get off of him was reciprocated with a playful pinch of your nipple which only broke your focus. “Stop that,” you grumbled, swatting his hand away from you as you finally got the last layer of his uniform off of him.

“Stop what? Admiring you? Cherishing you? Treasuring you?” His fingers trailed lower to caress your belly. “That’s going to be hard to do.” There was nothing but love in his eyes as he came to terms with what the future with you would bring.

Hearing those words come from him made your heart flutter. The pressure of his bulge against your clothed heat also added to the emotions roiling through you. You wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. His hands reached once again for the waistband of your bottoms, carefully unwrapping you like a present. You were only allowed to move off of him just so he could shuck both your bottoms and your panties in one go.

Once again, you found yourself with significantly less clothing than he did. “Not fair,” you grumbled.

“Oh? Shall we even the playing field once again?” he suggested. Satan allowed you to shift off him just enough for him to navigate your hands to his pants. Your hands brushed across his abs in that motion, causing him to shiver before they started to undo the buttons and zipper to his pants. He watched your every movement, entranced at how you looked when you were concentrating. Heat simmered in his eyes, the hunger in them ever growing the more clothing you took off of him.

You decided to leave his boxers on for the time being. The power had swung in your favor this time, and you gently palmed him through the flimsy fabric. The simple action had him shivering and gasping underneath you. It was a sound you could easily get addicted to. You gave yourself the freedom to tease him a bit more, stroking his length through his boxers until he called out your name and begged for you to do more than just touch him with your hand.

“You’re beautiful,” you echoed his earlier sentiments, finally divesting him of his last garment and tossing it carelessly into the corner of his room. “Absolutely beautiful,” you breathed, crawling back on top of him and kissing him deeply. His hands flew to your hips, positioning himself to enter you. As soon as the kiss broke, he slid into you with one fluid motion.

“Fuck,” Satan hissed, his eyelids fluttering. It had been good the first time, but the energy was so different now. He had every desire to draw the moment with you out, show you just how much he cared; but as soon as he was inside, the innate need to mate and breed with you caused a haze to settle over his mind. He wanted to savor the softness while it lasted, and he strained to take even slow strokes in you.

However, seeing you on top of him, so pretty and moaning as his cock took its first few passes, broke what little control he had over his desires. He thrust into you with his hands holding you firmly in place. Everything about you was absolutely divine in his eyes. Even if heaven was locked away from him for eternity, he could at least imagine what it would be like when he was with you like this. Time didn’t matter. The competition and expectations of what was to come of your child were no longer a factor in those blissful moments.

Satan loved seeing you like this, face flushed and eyes lidded in pleasure as both of you chased your releases. He liked knowing when it was all over, you would be falling into his arms and no one else’s. It made him feel as if he could catch you from anything that happened. You were his, and that fact alone drove him into a possessive frenzy. He let his trusts run deeper, harder into you. With every breathy sigh and every moan he came closer to his climax. He could tell you were close with how your head lolled back and how vocal you had become.

“Fuck, Satan…I love you,” you whined in a moment of reckless abandon before you felt your orgasm wash over you in waves. Your vision blurred for a moment as your senses were overwhelmed with your climax.

Your words sent him over the edge. Satan’s heart soared hearing your proclamation, barely believing that you had said it at all. He gasped at the suddenness of his release. Pulling your hips down flush to his, he released his load deep within you, groaning as his balls twitched in the aftermath of such a climax. He had wanted to prolong the experience of being one with you as long as he could, but it was over all too soon.

Gently cradling you and bringing you down from your perch on top of him, Satan let you rest on top of his chest, not wanting to depart from your warm caverns just yet. His instincts also screamed to keep you filled, making sure sure that none of his seed went to waste, even if he had already impregnated you already.

“Say it again,” he murmured, stroking your hair idly as the endorphins sedated him.

“Say what again? I love you?”

“Yes. Again.”

“Okay, okay. I love you,” you admitted, blushing a bit at how often he was making you say it.

“Good. I like knowing that my love wasn’t misplaced.” His fingers in your hair trailed down to rest at your lower back, and he could feel himself drifting out of consciousness. There were too many things he still wanted to talk to you about, but the two of you had all the time in the world to figure things out together.

He hummed an old, soothing tune as he let his thoughts wander. There was still so much for you to learn about the Devildom. A visit to Diavolo would be in order as soon as possible as discussions on matters pertaining to your child were needed. Then, you would most likely need to be put on an accelerated course to make certain you know the ins and outs of Devildom customs and cultures to ensure that your child would grow up in a proper environment. He thought of the ways he could support you, outside of the obvious help in your studies. There was also the concern of the child being born from such a unique lineage. Surely there would be growing pains associated with that as well…

“Satan?” your sweet voice broke him away from his train of thought.

“Yes?”

“You’re stressed out,” you stated plainly. “Your whole body is all tense. Whatever you’re worrying about can wait, right?”

“Yes, my love,” he agreed, pulling the covers over the both of you. Whatever worries he had about the future didn’t feel so daunting, so long as you were with him.

#Obey Me! Fanfic #Obey Me! Satan #Satan x reader #Shall we date satan #Obey Me! Smut #My writing #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash

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jiskblr · 4 years ago

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Blauprinz and his crew

My blood parents I never knew. Berliners, probably, but they left me in an anarchist-affiliated charity orphanage in Potsdam before I was six months old, so all I know for sure is that they named me Artur. I was adopted fairly late as these things go, about five, by the people who I consider my parents: Jurgen and Verena Carolingt. They could have had blood children, but chose to adopt, and frequently. When I was twelve I had five foster-sibs, but they slowed down after that; I only have two more sibs from the next decade, and they were adopted as the eldest four of us moved out. That's not counting Leo, who was their second fosterling; he was a real hellraiser and chafed at the academic's morality they tried to enforce, so he ran away to join a street gang. I got back in touch with him years later; for all that he left, he was as angry as me about - but that's getting ahead of myself.

My parents were academics, professors at Viadrina Universitat in Frankfurt-Oder, but in their more subtle way raised hell just as much as Leo. They grew up during the first partition, Da in East Germany and Ma in West Berlin, and they both hated the idea of hiding what they believed to cater to the powerful. They didn't budge in their convictions that everyone deserved a chance or that their conclusions deserved to be followed to their end. They believed in equality and metahuman rights, even when that was fairly unpopular, and they lived it. I'm a norm as were they, but my sibs are an even split of norms and orks plus one dwarf. They didn't adopt elves, who got snapped up more easily by more prejudiced parents, nor trolls, who posed logistical hurdles they didn't think they could deal with. (They felt bad about leaving out trolls, though, and donated generously to several charities for them. I do too, now, in their memory.) They budged just as little in their research, not even to stay quiet about it. When their research topics - applied sociology and economics of magic, for Da and Ma, respectively - developed from postulates to specific, inconvenient predictions and prescriptions for the practical world which got the corps to lean on their deans to quiet them down or kick them out, even so they stuck to their guns.

That pressure started to build around when I turned 18, and got worse as I went through my degree. When it all went to hell, I was a post-doc in applied modern theology - university-speak for 'shaman-ology' - and Zanne was a thesis candidate in high-energy experimental thaumics - studying when magic goes 'boom'. Gabi had given academia a serious try but it wasn't for her, so she'd become a net security wageslave in Potsdam - though honestly she'd be happier as a SINless decker. Fritz and Deb were undergrads at Viadrina, and Jost, Lotte, and Sascha were still young and at home. I don't understand what exactly was enraging the powers that be about their research; I think Mother had published something demonstrating that the publicly-known processes for producing refined orichalcite should produce a far lower market price, indicating that there was a covert cartel, and Father had models indicating that parts of the Eurowars didn't fit naturally with the known social dynamics pre-bellum, indicating deliberate provocation by some powerful force. True or not, either might have been the provocation. There had been escalating threats, but I wasn't living there, so I didn't hear about that; later, when I researched the background, I learned there’d been a fire started in the garage, broken windows, a chemical warfare agent left hissing in Dad's office after hours. But the first I heard of it was when I was back home, a week in late April, for Easter and Mother's birthday.

When some fucking Johnson carpet-firebombed the entire fucking house.

I don't know if they knew we'd be there. They had to know there were innocent children, there; Jost and Sascha weren't even ten yet. My parents died in the first few seconds, their corpses vaporized. Lotte was hugging Mother, so she was, too, and Fritz was just far enough away to leave dental records. Jost was less lucky; he roasted, but not quickly, and survived three hours before he died in agony. Deb lost a leg and an eye and as far as I know the pain's never stopped. Sascha was in the other room and got out, with severe scarring but none disabling. Zanne as well. Gabi wasn't there; the bosses wouldn't give her time off, and I'm not sure if that was a mercy or a curse. I was next to Father, and as far as the records know, I flash-fried like Lotte. But I'm a shaman of the Dragonslayer, and the fire washed over me. I tried to shield Dad with my body, but my totem isn't a protector; it preserved me, and much better than it would most of its shamans, but that didn't extend to him. I tried to help Jost when I realized he'd lived, but he told me to run and get revenge. I didn't realized Zanne or Sascha made it until much later; Zanne had hit her head and went unconscious quickly, and Sascha's response to pain always was to freeze up. But I kept it together enough to get to the basement, and there was ductwork Zanne had discovered years earlier and shown me, which connected it to three doors down. She'd also shown me the nearest part of the Berlin Underground - we snuck out through that ductwork - which had an ork gang she'd run with sometimes, so I thanked her memory about a hundred times that night. The gang leader by then, Ratbite, turned out to be one of the toughs she'd run with, and recognized me. I wasn't shy about using her memory to get a favor, and traded my shamanic skills - and some medical assistance - to get help going completely dark, wiping me from the databases so I could go truly SINless. He was pretty pissed when he found out she wasn't dead, but by then the favor was spent, and when she went dark as well she did him a couple favors and he mostly forgave me and accepted my excuse that I'd thought I was telling him the truth.

The official story was that the firebombs were thrown by a human-supremacist policlub, Nationale Aktion I believe, who objected to our outspokenly mixed-race family. This was bullshit, but plausible enough bullshit that the department heads and local politicians could easily pretend to believe it and be seen to Do Something in response, without that Something doing anything to harm corporate interests. Sascha I think believes that story, or prefers to act like he does. Deb, Gabi, and Zanne, though, didn't. And Zanne was good at causing explosions, but terrible at keeping her temper in check. She retaliated, with prejudice. Headline-making prejudice, which is how I and my temporary friend Ratbite learned she was alive. She had a big bounty for a couple years, but some anarchists gave her shelter before the corps reacted, and from there she became a runner as well. She didn't know I'd survived, though she did suspect, so I found her first, and joined the crew she ran with at the time. After that one came apart, the two of us have assembled all our future crews together. Well, mostly me, I'm the Face, but she still has better ties in anarchist and goblinoid circles; there's a lot of orks and trolls who won't trust a smoothskin, even one like me with an established rep.

Our vengeance is still a work in progress. The men who carried out the hit were deniable contractors, corp security from a minor place. They went down in an op our second year running, and the company got enough blowback from that job that it folded a year later. Finding out who gave the order is not quite done, but we've narrowed the field. I've got a solid network, and, well, my surviving siblings aren't any happier about it than me. Sascha pushed back when Zanne tried to contact him; I think he wants to put it behind him. Deb's a professor herself now, but she hasn't given up on justice, and Gabi-. She works for the corps, and counter to the ork stereotype is a very cold person in most ways; rationally, I know that gave me reasonable cause to doubt her. But after we finally made contact, we found her heart was cold, but a cold-burning hatred. A grudge aged like wine, but still so raw and deep that it feels unthinkable she could have made any other choice. Even the idea that she might have sided with her bosses over her family feels completely embarrassing to have considered. And Leo, like I said earlier, was almost as mad; he left home, but he still loved them for giving him a home to run from. (I hadn't realized, but he sent them gifts every Christmas, mostly hand-made, from the first year he'd left right through their deaths - he didn't learn about their deaths until he tried to deliver their gifts that year.) He's a complete ork stereotype, though, his anger is intense and searing. He'll let it go for months and then find something that reminds him again and smash up some corp's office, mostly at random. I try to give him more productive outlets when I can, but he refuses to go professional runner so he's probably going to end up landing in an early grave with his gang despite my best efforts. Not that we're really close, but I've lost too much family to let my crazy ex-brother join them.

#shadowrun #jisk writes

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andrewmoocow · 3 years ago

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Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 17: Together Forever (originally posted on July 5, 2021)

AN: Welcome back my loyal readers! Sorry to keep you all waiting these past few months, but I know the wait will really be worth it. The final two parts of Alternate Future might be some of my greatest writings yet, and I'm more than excited to share it all with you starting today. Now without further ado….

Synopsis: Steven tries to become Connie's official boyfriend.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Estelle as Garnet

Charlyne Yi as Ruby

Erica Luttrell as Sapphire

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl

Grace Rolek as Connie

Dee Bradley Baker as Lion

Kimberly Brooks as Cherry Quartz

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Featuring Ray Chase as George Ikari

Pearl stood in line at the Buddwick Public Library alongside many other parents and parental figures like her, waiting as a bearded, glasses-wearing Japanese-American man signed books at a table.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to not be from around here, right?" a single dad standing behind Pearl asked her.

"Well, technically yes," Pearl informed the father. "I come from a planet of beings similar to myself who are all based around gemstones, which explains my appearance. Also, just last week I helped save your world from a sociopathic revolutionary, so you're welcome."

"You foreigners say the craziest things!" the father giggled in disbelief of Pearl, who just groaned flatly as the line began to pick up.

Eventually, Pearl was at the front of the line and now face to face with childcare author George Ikari, who had his fingers clasped together as he gazed at Pearl.

"Let me guess, you are here because of your own son, daughter, or whatever pronouns your child prefers to be dubbed?" George asked Pearl while he took out another copy of his book, titled "When Your Child Wants Time Apart", to sign for the Gem.

"Well, he's not really my son, but Steven is the closest thing my team, the Crystal Gems, have to one after his mother died giving birth to him." Pearl explained as George got to signing. "And that's not even getting into the fact that his mother was a former despotic alien conqueror who grew tired of her life and the constant neglect from her fellow despots, so she faked her death because of how much she valued your planet as part of a big war, then thousands of years later she met a rock star and fell in love with him before they consummated their relationship and she gave up her physical form to give birth to Steven."

George just stared in shock at Pearl's tale before she tried to continue. "And just last week, there was this other Gem with a vendetta against Steven's mother who tried to destroy the planet and kill us a-"

"Stop." George commanded Pearl with a raise of his hand before handing over the signed book. "Just take the book and leave. Your tales are holding up the line."

"What did I tell ya, foreigners say the craziest things!" the single father from before laughed.

"I'm deeply sorry Mr. Ikari, it's just that Steven has been going through some rough times lately." Pearl apologized to the author.

"I completely understand miss." George said while pulling out his phone to show Pearl a picture of his own son, a young man with scruffy brown hair, a white dress shirt, and a nervous expression on his face. "My son Shane has had his fair share of troubles ever since his mother died, troubles that he insisted on running away from rather than facing them maturely."

"Just like Steven." Pearl compared the two boys sympathetically. "I am deeply sorry for your loss sir."

"Thank you for your kindness." George smiled, putting away his phone. "The best thing I feel could work for a situation like this is to let things play out and discuss his problems when the time is right."

"Thank you very much George." Pearl thanked the author as she finally began to leave the library with her new book in hand. "Though I doubt that'll be of any use to Steven."

Not too far away from the library, Steven was sitting in his room talking to Connie on the phone while she was on her study break.

"Wow Connie, looks like you got all this college stuff figured out." Steven laughed with his dear human friend over his phone.

"I've got a whole plan figured out for early admission into the University of Jayhawk, but I'm still not sure about my major," Connie explained to Steven. "Maybe I should major in political science and minor in sociology, or perhaps the other way around."

"Did all our galactic adventures together get you interested in politics?" Steven asked.

"Maybe." Connie chuckled. "But I'm thinking more down to earth, as far as long-term careers go." As the two laughed at Connie's pun, the timer on her phone began to go off. "Wow, fifteen minutes went by pretty fast."

"Aw man, these study breaks are too short." Steven complained before he realized something. "Hey wait, you left a brochure at my place last time." He stated, pulling out a brochure for Connie's college of choice to show her. "You want it back?"

"It's alright Steven, I still have two more, and the Internet too." Connie answered smiling.

"Oh, right." Steven realized. "Well, call me when you still wanna hang out, okay?"

"You know I will, silly!" Connie beamed. "Okay, for real now, bye!"

After Connie ended the call, Steven turned over on his back and gazed at the brochure in his hands. "The University of Jayhawk, huh?" he muttered to himself. "And how far is that from here?" Steven then opened up the brochure to learn how far the distance between Beach City and the university's location in Kansas was. "Oh, that far."

Once again, Steven began to glow pink as he sadly sank into his bed, fretting over how little often he'd be able to see Connie regularly. Gazing at his rose-colored hand, he then started pondering on whether he should do something about this new condition, as he had been thinking about since the titanic battle with Black Rutile.

Soon, Steven had decided to get up off his bed and walk downstairs, to which he found Garnet standing in the living room dressed in a hat and kerchief. "Oh Garnet, you're still here?"

"Steven." Garnet greeted Steven tersely.

"I could really use your advice right now." Steven declared racing over to the fusion. "It's about-"

"Not right now Steven, I gotta split." Garnet cut Steven off before un-fusing into Ruby and Sapphire.

"I'm terribly sorry Steven, but I'm running late for my lecture on alternate timelines." Sapphire apologized while taking off the scoutmaster's hat and giving it to Ruby, along with a kiss on the cheek, before racing off to her lecture. "See you soon!"

"Sapphire might be going, but you still got good ol' Ruby to talk to." Ruby said to Steven as she went to fetch a backpack. "Let's walk and talk scout, I got things to do."

"Oh, okay." Steven agreed as he followed Ruby to the Warp Pad, and the two set off.

Later that day, Steven had joined Ruby's class, consisting of Onion, Zebra Jasper, and Little Larimar, as they strolled through the woods on a gorgeous afternoon. When the class got to a good stopping point near a stump, Ruby hopped up on the stump to speak. "Okay everyone, you remember what we learned last week, right?" she asked her students. "Well, today is the day! Brace yourselves, 'cause today we're sketching nature and the animals around us!"

Onion and his Gem classmates excitedly took out their notepads to draw on as Ruby continued. "Draw to your heart's content scouts!" Ruby declared. "Feel the beauty of everything around you, and you'll have the honor of receiving this Nature Sketching Badge!" She then presented a patch depicting a paint palette and brush in front of depictions of a wolf and a bird. "Got that? Now get to drawing!"

As soon as the three pupils left to go draw the beauty of nature around them, Ruby took it as her cue to jump down from the stump to talk with Steven. "So, what did you need Garnet for?"

"It's about Connie." Steven admitted to the small red Gem. "Every time I talk with her, I feel like she knows exactly what to do with her life, mostly thanks to her parents, and I don't. When we're together as Stevonnie, I feel so ready for anything, but on my own, I feel so lost. Just, what do I want with life?"

"That's tough Steven." Ruby declared sympathetically.

"Exactly!" Steven replied. "Connie is gonna go super far away for college, and I'm gonna be stuck here in Beach City where barely anything can go right for me nowadays and I don't know what to do about them! I want to be with Connie forever, like how you and Sapphire are basically together forever as Garnet!" That was when he came to a conclusion. "Wait, if I want to be together with Connie, then she's my future!"

Steven's revelation made Ruby super excited, and she began scuttling in place with stars in her eyes, her rapid footsteps creating a small fire beneath her feet. "STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN!" she cheered, but stopped short once she noticed the fire she created. "Oh my gosh, one sec!" Ruby quickly ran off and came back with a towel that she used to put it out. "Anyways, STEVEN, YOU GOTTA PROPOSE!"

"Wait, propose?!" Steven exclaimed in shock. "But, we're only teenagers, we can't get married yet! But then again…"

"Don't say you haven't thought of it!" Ruby added cheerfully. "Besides, aren't there couples in this country that get married at 18 or something?"

"Y-yeah, I thought of it." Steven began blushing, which he tried to hide within his jacket. "I mean, we just had this discussion."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Ruby yelled happily while jumping up and grabbing onto his head. "DO IT, DO IT, DO IT! DO IT LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!"

"Are you still really sure?" Steven asked the overly eager Gem. "As I said, Connie and I are still only teenagers."

"C'mon, we told you about how it worked for Sapphire and I." Ruby responded. "And if you're successful, you'll have the honor of receiving this!" She presented Steven with a badge depicting one figure popping the question to another. "The Proposal Badge! And if you're not so sure, well, seeing the future would be really helpful here."

Steven gasped, knowing just who Ruby was implying.

Far away from Ruby, Sapphire sat down with her class, made up of the Watermelon Tourmaline fusion, two of the Nephrites, Orange Spodumene, Cherry Quartz, and Angel Aura Quartz, while drawing lines in the sand with a stick.

"Okay class, let's begin our lesson." Sapphire announced to her students when she spotted Steven racing towards her with a big smile on his face. "Ah, Steven. I've been expecting you."

"Hi, Sapphire." Steven greeted Sapphire. "I'm sorry to interrupt your class, but I got big news! I've been thinking about my future with Connie lately, and a chat with Ruby convinced me that I should propose!"

"Wait, don't you have to wait until you're a grown-up to do that?" Cherry Quartz inquired with a raise of her hand.

"Let me guess, you're here because of my future vision?" Sapphire asked. "Let's run the numbers then." She then let Steven stand next to her before beginning to speak to her class. "Okay class, let's review what we've learned today." She began while drawing complex math equations in the sand. "Using the concepts we discussed so far, let us calculate the probability of Steven succeeding in asking Connie to marry him. Let's begin with the probability that she'll want to spend her life with someone, and then we'll multiply that by the differential factor in sociocultural marriage acceptance. Next, we multiply that by a possibly happy cohabitation, the factor of fear of engagement, the intensity of the love you share, and finally the robustness of your goals in life." As Sapphire finished her equation, she finally turned back to Steven. "Are you following so far, Steven?"

"Uh, maybe?" Steven answered as he stared at the equation Sapphire had jotted down for him in the sand, but it wasn't long before the ocean tides began to wash them away. "Oh no, your work!"

"And there we have it." Sapphire declared with a chuckle. "Don't you get it, Steven? My marriage to Ruby, our fusion as Garnet, it eluded my future vision for so long, defied the odds, and perhaps even changed the course of time itself!" she declared encouragingly. "We could just write equations in the sand all day, but then a wave of chance can come crashing in and wash everything away! Love is truly unquantifiable! Even with my gift of clairvoyance, I know far better than anyone that love can make the impossible possible! And that is why I say do it! Do it, Steven, just do it!"

"Yeah, you're right!" Steven began getting pumped up before turning to Sapphire's class. "Get one last good look at me, everyone, because after today you're gonna be calling me Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran!"

The class began cheering vibrantly, bringing a big smile to Steven's face as he finally realized what his future now held.

As the afternoon slowly began to give way to evening, Ruby and Sapphire reunited by rushing towards each other on the sand, excited about the big proposal.

"Steven told me first, and I led him to you!" Ruby cheered, spinning her little blue wife around by the waist.

"I told him to go for it!" Sapphire laughed. "Oh, it's going to be so wonderful!"

As the two fused back into Garnet, she stood still for a few moments, contemplating her components' decisions before coming to one of her own. "I take full responsibility for their actions." Just then, Garnet heard footsteps and found Pearl walking behind her, her pointy nose stuck in a book. "Pearl, I'm guessing you want to see me about the book you're reading."

"I was just thinking about calling up you and Amethyst," Pearl announced as her gaze turned from the pages to her leader. "Where's Steven?"

"Oh, nothing much," Garnet answered. "Just going to make a rash decision that'll emotionally damage him in the long run."

"Oh, that's ni-" Pearl began before she did a double-take. "WAIT, WHAT?!"

As for Steven, he was too busy getting ready for an evening with Connie without a care in the world, picking up a cake from Spacetries that said 'Together forever!' on it, buying some flowers from Crazy Lace Agate, lighting up the glow bracelet that brought him & Connie together to begin with and dressing up in some nice clothes. If all goes well, he would soon become Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran.

Meanwhile, at Connie's house, Connie kept on studying for the University of Jayhawk when she heard a roar coming from outside her window. Walking over to the window, she discovered Steven parked outside her home with Lion by his side.

"Evening Connie, how are you doing?" Steven asked his ladylove.

"Steven?" Connie replied. "What are you doing here, and why are you all dressed up like that?"

"You got a fifteen-minute study break in two minutes, right?" Steven inquired, gazing at his watch to check if his timing is correct.

"Whoa, spot-on!" Connie exclaimed, gazing at her phone to learn that he was indeed right. "So, what did you come here for?"

"You want to go for a walk with me?" Steven offered. "I'm sure you could use some fresh air."

"That's very sweet Steven." Connie smiled. "I'd really love to, but I-"

"Don't worry, we can take Lion, and then I'll bring you home in fifteen!" Steven declared with a thumbs up.

"Okay, let's do this!" Connie accepted the offer and left her room to meet Steven outside, taking a moment to tell her parents along the way. "Bye Mom and Dad, I'm spending my study break with Steven!"

Once Connie was out the door, she and Steven mounted on Lion's back and he ran away from the Maheswaran residence.

"Remember when we first met here?" Steven asked Connie as they dismounted from Lion and began walking down the beach.

"You mean when you tried riding a bike in the sand and then started running away screaming?" Connie replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I was trying to get your attention." Steven added.

"Last I remember, I was more focused on my book than your silly antics." Connie stated.

"Well, that all happened right here." Steven declared, gesturing to a picnic at the very spot where he and Connie first met all those years ago. "You like what I have here?"

"Steven!" Connie exclaimed in awe at the picnic set before them. "I don't know what to say! I also can't believe you still remember this exact spot!"

"I just remember it like it was yesterday!" Steven exclaimed just as eagerly before running over to a nearby rock to sit on.

"This is too cute." Connie squealed while blushing.

"And without further ado," Steven announced as he picked up a guitar to play while Connie sat down. "There's something very important that I'd like to tell you today." With that, he started strumming the guitar and began to sing. "I'd rather be tall, I'd rather be smart, I'd rather be sure you know I care." He sang for Connie. "Wherever you go, wherever you start, I'd rather be sure you know I'm there. I'd rather I always be a part of whatever you do. I'd rather be me, with you."

Although Connie was a little turned off by the deeper meaning of Steven's song, she chose to just keep those feelings hidden to not hurt Steven's while he continued singing. "Wherever we go, I already trust, I'd know what to do if it were us. I'd know what to say, I'd know how to be, I'd know your entire syllabus." Steven continued as the song reached its climax. "I can't think of any other thing in the world that I would rather do. If I could be, I'd rather be me with you."

"Oh Steven, that's so beautiful!" Connie applauded the love song. "If a little unsettling, but I'd rather not say it out loud because-" Steven then got down on one knee and presented him her old glow bracelet. "Huh?"

"Connie, will you marry me?" Steven popped the question at last.

"Come again?" Connie asked, completely taken off guard by such a proposal.

"Let's get married and live together as Stevonnie, just like Garnet!" Steven reiterated for his possible wife.

"Are you serious?" Connie chuckled at the marriage proposal. "I think we should talk about this first."

"You might think I'm being sentimental, but this makes sense!" Steven exclaimed. "I don't know what you'll be studying, but I'm sure Stevonnie will! We can go to Jayhawk together!"

"I really appreciate this little date, but come on! You're still young!" Connie said as she stood up. "And acting a little clingy, I might add." She added under her breath.

"What was that?" Steven asked Connie.

"Nothing!" Connie lied. "Like I said, we're still young. And even if some couples get married at like, eighteen, I don't think we're fit to be one of those."

"So, you don't want to be Stevonnie with me?" Steven asked despondently, but Connie was there to comfort him.

"Of course I'd want to be Stevonnie, but I'd like to be my own person too," Connie answered reassuringly. "You get that, right?"

"Yeah, but," Steven began while putting the bracelet away as Connie hugged him. "Is it a no?"

"I'd say it's not right now." Connie answered.

"But if we're going to spend our lives together, why didn't you say it now?" Steven kept on inquiring fretfully.

"We got plenty of time." Connie declared, moving on from hugging Steven to holding his hands. "Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried, honest." Steven tried correcting his best friend. "I'm just happy when I'm with you."

"I'm happy around you too." Connie replied. "It's just that-" Before Connie could finish, the alarm on her phone went off. "Oh snap, my alarm!" she yelped in realization while pulling her phone out. "Forget studying right now, I don't think it matters."

"But it does matter to you!" Steven yelled.

"And you're just as important!" Connie responded, beginning to notice Steven getting more stressed out.

"I'm fine, we can talk about it later." Steven began rapidly panting. "Look, Lion's still right there, you can go now."

"Are you sure Steven?" Connie wondered sympathetically. "You're looking a little on edge. Maybe I can hook you up with a good therapist. She's a good friend of my mom named Dr. Rebe-"

"I'm sure I'm fine." Steven cut Connie off. "Now go."

"Okay." Connie obliged before giving Steven a goodbye hug. "I'll call you again tomorrow at noon." She said before walking towards Lion to have him take her home.

"Have fun studying!" Steven continued putting up a happy front as he bid Connie farewell. But as soon as she was out of sight, that front completely fell. "Nobody I love ever wants to stay."

With that, Steven fell back-first to the sand and turned pink, the resulting impact ruining the nice picnic around him as he wallowed in a crater of his sadness, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

Many hours later, Steven kept on lying in the crater long into the night with tears in his eyes, and when he finally decided to get up, Garnet was there waiting for him with the picnic basket containing the cake still intact.

"I assume it didn't go well." Garnet theorized as she helped Steven up from the crater and began walking him home.

"I don't get it," Steven muttered cynically. "Ruby and Sapphire said I should go for it, and I did, but everything went wrong."

"I apologize on their behalf," Garnet stated. "You just can't trust love advice from hopeless romantics like those two."

"Then why didn't you stop me?" Steven asked the fusion.

"I couldn't see a future where you didn't try proposing to Connie," Garnet answered. "However, there were quite a few where after she said no, you forced her to fuse with you and subsequently went insane."

"Of course." Steven moaned. "Even in alternate timelines, nothing can ever go right for me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Garnet comforted her half-human ward with a hug to the side. "Your soulmate should be your complement, not a missing piece. Ruby and Sapphire may deeply love each other, but they still have their own thoughts, feelings, and lives." The pair soon reached the beach house and sat down on the steps together. "Whatever hole you have in your life Steven, I want you to know that Connie or Stevonnie might not fill it."

"It's just that you guys make it so easy!" Steven revealed as he took the basket from Garnet. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but it's kinda your fault for being so dang perfect!"

"I know you're upset Steven, and I take responsibility for your plight," Garnet apologized to Steven. "but blaming others as much as you blame yourself won't help."

"Then maybe shoving this adorable cake in my face will!" Steven declared as he opened the picnic basket to reveal that the cake was in pieces.

"It probably won't." Garnet deadpanned, but Steven didn't listen and started eating the broken cake anyways.

"Well, I'm still gonna do it!" Steven exclaimed, his mouth now full of cake.

"I know," Garnet added as she gazed up at the sky. However, what she didn't catch was a fly buzzing around her and Steven, and its green eyes started blinking.

"Ah, romance. So utterly futile." Black Rutile grimaced as she watched the live footage of Steven drowning his sorrows in cake through a hard light welding mask. "Still, all that trauma could be useful in the future."

As Black Rutile was spectating on Steven's pain, she was hard at work on her plans for revenge, using a blowtorch to put together the final touches on a special wrist-mounted device. Once she was done, the villainous Rutile aimed the device at a rock carved into the exact shape of White Diamond's gem and fired. The resulting blast destroyed the rock and left a massive cloud of ash where it once was, but she wasn't satisfied with the smattering of pebbles that once made up the rock.

"Hm, need to work on the disintegration aspect a bit more." Black Rutile pondered while retracting the welding mask into her visor and began going back to the drawing board.

Guess who's back? Back again? Black Rutile's back, she's no friend! And on that rather sad turned ominous note, we conclude the first chapter of Part 3. Now that we have Steven's romance issues out of the way, expect to see the following in the coming chapters, in no particular order.

Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl re-enact Ace Attorney while Steven becomes even more scarred for life.

Viva Los Diego! Lapis & Amethyst get involved with a James Bond parody, Garnet & Bismuth solve mysteries together with a police officer who's basically the Plumber from Ratchet and Clank, Pearl matches wits with a snooty film director who's like Michael Bay, David Cage, Neil Druckmann & Zack Snyder in one, and Peridot tries promoting her CPH reboot.

Steven hangs out with Spinel and plays basketball with Wolverine.

Peridot finally gets her own song.

Jasper finally gets her own song.

A certain Stevonnie-chasing jerk dares Steven to reform him.

And finally, Black Rutile plays a role in a certain event in Fragments, the final chapter of this part.

Have I gotten your interest yet? Good, cause strap in everyone, it's gonna be nuts.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #connie maheswaran #garnet #ruby #sapphire #pearl #lion steven universe #black rutile

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fidespeaks · 3 years ago

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About Fides: An Introduction

Hello, my name is Fides! It’s very nice to meet you and, however you’ve fond your way onto this blog, I’m happy that you have. In this post, I hope to cover a few important things before getting started with the meat and potatoes of this blog: namely I’d like to introduce myself and, in the name of transparency, give you as many details about myself and my background as possible while still maintaining relative anonymity. Some things have been left intentionally vague (i mean. kinda LOL), this is to protect myself. I hope you’ll understand.

SO! Let’s start with the basics...

My name is Fides. I am in my late twenties and the only information I’ll give regarding my location is that I am currently in the PST timezone and I live on the American west coast. I currently work as a retail associate, but I have experience in food service & professional animal care as well. I am currently pursuing an undergraduate degree in forensic psychology with a minor in philosophy. I have an avid interest in clinical psychology, criminology / behavioral analysis, social psychology, sociology, anthropology, political sciences, race relations, gender studies, and a lot of other stuff that I spend the majority of my time studying (reading books on the subjects, listening to podcasts, ect). I have been roleplaying on this hellsite since 2010 and I have seen my share of bullshit, believe me.

As far as gender goes, I an AFAB genderfluid enby. I prefer they/them pronouns, but I won’t be miffed over she/her or he/him or anything else that you would like to (respectfully) refer to me as. I don’t mind gendered slang (queen, king, dude, girl, babe, boss bitch, etc) but I ask that you not refer to me as any derogatory sexual terminology typically associated with women (slut, hoe, thot, skank, etc). I have been out as nonbinary for a little more than a year but have been actively surrounded by enby friends for over a decade.

Sexuality / orientation wise I am demisexual, biromantic, and polyamorous. I have been identifying as bi since my early teens and am out to everyone in my life. I often refer to myself as a lesbian because I am in a lesbian relationship (so if you have issues with enby lesbians, you’re just gonna have to leave or get over it). I am married & my wife is a trans woman who has been out for a little less than a year and has a masters degree in post civil war reconstruction & the race relations of the time. We have a child who is around three and told me this morning that their gender is “zombie”. So... do with that as you will.

I am not neurotypical. I was professionally diagnosed with ADHD sometime in kindergarten and I have spent long periods of my life both medicated and unmedicated (I am currently medicated). I also have been diagnosed with C-PTSD and am currently undergoing EMDR treatment with a licensed therapist. I am a CSA survivor & I display a good number of the symptoms of BPD although I haven’t been officially diagnosed with it.

As stated above, I am American. My mother’s side of the family is white as fuck my father’s side of the family is latinx & native american. I am extremely white passing and was raised by my conservative christian mother & step-father, so while I do consider myself of color, I also am hyper aware of the fact that to the outside world I always have been and always will be white as fuck. I try to use this to the best of my abilities to fight against racism and implicit bias when I see it and am, as I said, fully aware of my privilege. I will always concede to BIPOC when it comes to matters of race, but I also do not pretend that that voice and group are a monolith and I always do my best to make sure I have collected a multitude of opinions regarding a subject before formulating my own. Plus, I think that white saviorism is one of the worst behaviors any sort of leftist or progressive white or white passing person can engage in and part of this blog (as you will see) will def touch upon that.

Uh... what else? I consider myself pretty far left. I grew up christian (lutheran) and am now some weird flavor of agnostic existentialist. I believe that capitalism is cultivating a hellish apocalyptic landscape and needs to be stopped at all costs (I’m a socialist ig lol). I think that everyone suffers from implicit biases that cause them to act poorly and while they need to be educated the way that we do it currently in the rpc and the community at large are disgusting, counter productive, largely a waste of time, and extremely unhealthy. I dislike both antishippers and proshippers equally and.... uh.

That pretty much lays out most of my background and both my privileges and lack thereof. Next time (ON DRAGON BALL Z) I will think I’m gonna talk about and discuss privilege and ladders of it and how it stacks and the like because I think that’s pretty important to why I made this post beyond just introducing myself. Or... first I’m going to make a post about what I kind of want to do with this blog and why I’ve made it and THEN I’ll start talking about the interesting stuff to lay the groundwork for what I really want to do and talk about here so...

Thank you to everyone who basically read this really boring summary of myself and my life! I look forward to talking more with y’all. <3

#001. ⟹ FIDES SPEAKS.

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nathanielzalexandria · 4 years ago

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Let's talk about blood purity in dramione and Harry Potter and how it has more to do with culture than blood.

So there are some things to note before I get into this discussion:

• I am black

• I live in a multicultural/creolized society in the Caribbean

• I am studying sociology and literature a at the CAPE level and one of the topics in sociology is culture

Now that that's out of the way let's talk about blood purity.

So a few days ago I was reading "What Do a Lion and a Wolf Share" by PTwritesmore and a line in it got me thinking about this idea. The gist of the story is it's a Hermione who finds out she's actually related to a pureblood family and was adopted story. In this one, Hermione is the bastard sister of Theo and now she's trying to find out who her mum was with him. (It's a fun ongoing story and y'all should check it out). Anyway, early within the story Draco has a freakout and says his problem with Hermione isn't her blood but that she has no respect for wizarding traditions or along those lines.

In later chapters of this story, they mention etiquette training (chapter 7 &9), formal introductions and marriage proposal that Hermione calls "archaic". Actually, Hermione calling it archaic is what causes Draco to say what is in the screenshot.

Then Friday, "On the Nature of Daylight" chapter 11 by Ikorous updated and clearly said it. (For context this story takes place in HBP and Draco is fixing the cabinet when he makes it his mission to have sex with Hermione. It has some BDSM undertones, and dark in some places. In this scene Draco is in the restricted section of the library and trying to drink away his feelings).

Which is right. Hermione is ignorant of wizarding culture. You can't say that she's versed in history, because knowledge of history does not equal knowledge of the culture. And you can't say that it is not canon because the situation with the house-elves is a great example. She spent the entirety of the Goblet of fire trying to trick them into accepting clothes. I'm not saying that their enslavement should be trivialized nor that they deserve mistreatment, I'm saying that trying to free a creature who likes to serve is inherently cruel.

And this ignorance of pureblood culture is seen in many fanfics, especially those where she finds out she's a pureblood, but it is usually treated like:

Pure Blood: this is wizarding culture and these are our norms

Hermione: hmmm, this is old fashioned and stupid and the modern muggle way is better and I will ignore your customs and do it my way

And then Hermione gets applauded for doing such.

Transversely, Draco and his pureblood friends forsake everything pureblood and do things the muggle way.

Not that either is wrong, it's a fanfic do what you want, but after a while the lack of nuance is noticeable

Now moving away from that tangent, back to the topic

Culture is defined as the norms, mores, social assumptions, customs and traditions that make up a society. Culture goes from the little things, like in Trinidad if you walk into a room with people it is part of the culture to say "Good morning" and if you don't you are considered rude, or big things like taking part in different parts of carnival celebrations. Within society, culture is upheld by the elders who then pass it on to the youth. Purebloods act as the elders within wizarding society.

Purebloods are the backbone of the wizarding world and culture. Because of the traditional way these families operate it would make sense that certain traditions may have stayed with them and in the wizarding world. Through them, wizarding norms, laws, mores, traditions etcetera are cultivated and continued and becomes the baseline for all wizarding behaviour to this day.

In the Harry Potter universe, wizards are the minority that went into hiding due to muggle persecution. While not directly stated (I think) it can be discerned that at one point wizards functioned alongside muggles. Maybe not showing powers but with them until 1689 when the Statute of Secrecy went into place to hide them. But even before the witch trials that brought the law, there was still persecution from muggles.

But what does all this has to do with blood purity?

Draco in the fanfic explains it clearly.

Muggles marginalised wizards to the point in which they had to hide, and then they are supposed to openly accept the ignorant children who grew up in muggle society as the exact same as them. Children who more than likely when they come refuse to assimilate and promote their ideas as the best ones (not that everything in pureblood culture is all roses and sunshine). So it became easy to disassociate anything associated with muggle as being inferior. That can lead to the idea that muggle-borns and all muggles should be eradicated, no matter how extremist those thoughts are. It's really the reason they hold on to all the ill of blood purity

(From "On the nature of daylight" )

Hermione is a muggle-born, who seemingly gets rewarded for breaking established norms and mores all while screaming the muggle way is better and that wizards should just evolve with the times because everything they do is antiquated in some fics. Why can't there be a mid-ground?

Now all this is just an assumption. And I can't say that when she-who-will-not be-mentioned thought about this complexity when she wrote the book. I'm just hoping that what I brought up kind of resonates and inspires to write fics through this angle.

#hogwarts #hermione granger #draco malfoy #blood purity #harry potter #dramione #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #dramione fanfiction #sorry for the long post #these are my opinions

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yoontopia · 5 years ago

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𝟱𝟵. “𝗪𝗼𝘄” + 𝟳𝟬. “𝗬𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺” | 𝗸𝘁𝗵

pairing: kim taehyung x reader; genre: fluff, f2l; words: 780

part of the ‘100 ways to say I love you’ drabbles. Requests for these are OPEN!

The smell of popcorn floated around your apartment, as the bag inside your microwave popped and spun. You hummed a tune as you slathered strawberry jam onto some toast, your feet tapping along to the music in your head. It was a Friday night and in true Friday night fashion, you had put on your softest pajama shorts, your oldest and most comfortable t-shirt, and your feet in fluffy socks pulled up past your ankles. Friday nights were movie nights and had been ever since your freshman year of college.

What had started as a solo tradition had soon turned into having your friends over every Friday night for a movie. You provided the popcorn, and your friends provided the drinks.

However today happened to be Halloween, and all your friends had decided to be social and go out to parties. It was just you for tonight, but you didn’t mind.

Pouring the popcorn into a bowl, you grabbed it and the plate of strawberry jam sandwiches and laid them down on your coffee table. Collapsing on your couch and wrapping yourself in your blanket, you opened Netflix on your TV and began browsing.

Your doorbell rang. Surprised, you checked the clock on the wall across from you and then stared at your door. It was almost 10 PM, you had been delayed with your weekly movie because of an imminent deadline for your sociology essay you’d decided to procrastinate on.

Padding over to your door, you opened it only to come face to face with one of your best friends.

“Tae?” you asked in surprise. The boy standing at your door smiled slowly at you as he said your name. “What’re you doing here? What about Hobi’s party?” You stared as he didn’t respond, but only continued to stare back at you. “Earth to Taehyung?”

“Wow,” he said. “You look like a dream come true.” You raised your eyebrows at him and then looked down at yourself. Your baggy shirt was three sizes too big and covered the shorts you were wearing and had yellow stains from when you’d stress eaten a whole bag of Doritos and accidentally wiped your fingers on your shirt. One of your socks had a hole in them. Your head was up in a messy ponytail that was coming loose.

“Come again?” you asked, but Taehyung only smiled at you. “You’re drunk.”

“Perhaps I am,” he said, pushing past you into your apartment. “But that doesn’t mean I’m lying.” You stared at him in mild shock as he walked to your couch and flopped down on it.

“What about the party?” you asked again, joining him on the couch. He waved his hand at you, dismissing your concern.

“I went, you see, and it was a lot of fun,” he mumbled, his head leaning against the back of the couch. “We did shots far too early in the night and everyone was getting totally shit-faced. It was like 8pm. There was this girl,” he swallowed, staring up at the ceiling. You tried to ignore the way your heart lurched. Taehyung was your friend, a really good one, and your entire college career had been spent ignoring the little flutter in your stomach that Kim Taehyung’s mere presence seemed to cause. You tried to not stare at his exposed throat and collarbones and failed miserably. “She was all over me. She was super cute too, you see, and we were getting it on real good.”

You stared up at the ceiling too, unsure if you wanted him to continue talking.

“But then suddenly, I felt sober,” he said. “I was like, nine shots in but the world suddenly slid into focus. And while that girl’s tongue was down my throat, all I could think about were your strawberry jam sandwiches.” As if to prove his point he reached over and grabbed one, taking a huge bite.

You looked over at him, but he was already half asleep.

“Turn on your movie, that’s what I’m here for,” he mumbled, eyes closing. You smiled reaching over to run your hands through his hair. Pulling the blanket, you draped it over both of you and turned on Hotel Transylvania, before settling back into your sofa.

You were barely five minutes in when Taehyung’s breathing evened out next to you and you felt his head droop onto your shoulder, soft hair tickling your throat.

“She wasn’t warm,” he mumbled, and you could barely make out what he was saying. “Not like you, you know. You’re warm.” With that, all you could hear was the sound of the movie, and Taehyung’s light snores on your shoulder.

#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #bts #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung #kth #writing

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gayenerd · 4 years ago

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This is another article I found during the internet k-hole I went into while looking for information about Adrienne’s ex-fiance, saved in a document, and now can’t find online anymore. I think it was originally featured in the Mankato Free Press, but the author apparently had a blog detailing her 2009 efforts to get in contact with Adrienne and campaign for Green Day to play in Mankato again. There’s some more interesting tidbits about the Mankato punk scene and an interview with Adrienne there.

Campaign Green Day: Reflection

By Amanda Dyslin

Free Press Features Editor

June 10, 2009 11:29 pm

— It was dark in the middle of the southern Minnesota countryside, somewhere by St. Peter in the summer of 1992.

On a farm with a barn and not much else, there was one light pole casting a shallow glow on three guys standing atop 6-foot wide, 5-foot tall wire spools — a makeshift stage to gain high ground over 200 or so people watching. Next to them was a big, old, beat-up beast of a car pulled up by the owner so 15 or so people could stand on top and gain a better view. One of them had a video camera.

Ben Gruber, then a sophomore at Loyola High School, was there. In fact, he and a buddy had helped haul equipment for the band, and even gave the drummer, Tre Cool, a ride before the show in Mankato. The music was good, he said. A lot more polished than other punk bands he’d seen in Mankato.

He was aware of the five-year-old band, born in Berkeley, Calif., he said. They’d put out a couple of smaller recordings, including their full-length debut “39/Smooth” on Lookout! Records. But they were two years from their breakthrough record, “Dookie,” which would have pretty much everyone at the show that night in awe of what they had experienced — maybe one of the last stripped down, small-scale punk shows Green Day would ever perform.

Mankato punk

The Libido Boyz are often considered the anchor of the Mankato punk scene in the late 1980s/early 1990s. It was a time when the city was rich with garage and basement punk bands, drummer Chad Sabin said before a reunion show in 2007. PSD and Plain Truth were a couple of other bands that got a lot of attention at the time.

Marti’s All Ages Music, located where the Vietnamese restaurant Tonn is now on Front Street, was an open building with a bathroom and a couple of booths where kids could put on shows. A couple of bands went on to the big time after playing there. The Offspring was one of them.

Many claimed having heard of friends who had seen Green Day play at Marti’s. According to a former talent booker, the closest Green Day ever came to playing the venue was when frontman Billie Joe Armstrong and his girlfriend, Adrienne Nesser, walked in and left right after The Offspring’s set in 1994. Marti’s tried to get Green Day to play the venue numerous times, but it was way too small for even the moderate level of fame they’d already gained pre-“Dookie.” Marti’s had the same trouble with the punk band Fugazi.

“It was pretty much no frills,” Gruber said. “There wasn’t much to do there.”

The bulk of the punk scene was made up of high school and college-age punk-rockers who would play anywhere, Sabin said. Like a lot of kids at the time, the Libido Boyz just wanted to play loud, chaotic music, which also is what people seemed to want to hear. Kids would cram into basements for concerts or listen outside garages.

“On any given week or weekend, there would be a show with anywhere from two to 10 bands playing,” Gruber said. “There was a really good crop of musician-age kids who were into (punk) for a while (before) grunge became very popular.”

During the next few years, the Libido Boyz got big. They played in the Cities and toured the state and eventually started playing shows across the country, including New York and San Francisco. Out West is where they met Green Day, who would become the biggest punk band to come through Mankato.

“They were just dirty punks like us,” Sabin said.

Former Libido Boyz bassist Dave Begalka said they played punk shows with Green Day from time to time while on tour. Mike Dirnt, Green Day bassist, actually did Begalka a big favor once when they played a show in Cleveland together.

Some of Begalka’s bass gear went missing, and a couple of months later he saw Dirnt when they both were playing shows in the California Bay Area. Turns out, the bass gear was mixed up with Dirnt’s equipment that night, and he’d been keeping it safe for him the whole time.

“I thought that was just downright a swell thing to do,” Begalka said. “As I recall, I think we couch surfed at Billy Joe’s that night. ... By the way, I still use the lost guitar strap that went around the U.S. with Green Day.”

The Libido Boyz and Green Day crossed paths in another way as well, through Adrienne, who was a student at Minnesota State University and living in Mankato.

The first lady

Adrienne (Nesser) Armstrong, now 39, was born in Minneapolis and started at MSU in the late 1980s, graduating with the class of 1994 with a degree in sociology.

She met Billie Joe on Green Day’s first tour in 1990. Some report it was a show at First Ave in Minneapolis, and she is quoted at greenday.net as saying only about 10 people were there. She asked Billie Joe where she could get a copy of the band’s CD, and the two hit it off.

While on tour, Billie Joe kept in contact with Adrienne by phone. Their first kiss inspired an early Green Day song, “2,000 Light Years Away.” Their relationship caused Billie Joe to arrange two tours around Minnesota so they could see each other, a relationship which lasted about a year and a half.

Although it’s unclear, witnesses who saw Billie Joe and Adrienne around Mankato during that time say the reason Green Day played shows in the area at all was simply because she was here. The shows weren’t a part of any tour, but rather impromptu ways to pass to the time.

The relationship fizzled after they decided the distance was too much of a strain. Adrienne got engaged to Billy Bisson, the frontman of Libido Boyz, the following year. Reports differ from either side, with some saying the relationship dissolved on its own. Bisson has been quoted as saying Billie Joe stole her away.

While in Mankato, Adrienne worked at various places, including the Piercing Pagoda in the River Hills Mall and Pagliai’s Pizza, and is described by those who knew her as a beautiful punk rock girl who everybody had a crush on.

Cheryl Rueda, manager of Pagliai’s, worked with Adrienne and three of the Libido Boyz at the restaurant when Adrienne was dating Bisson. Adrienne also babysat for Cheryl’s kids.

“She was a beautiful girl,” Rueda said. “I think the world of her. She was just a regular person.”

Thursday nights Adrienne babysat for Cheryl’s two kids, Andre and Marisa, who were about 3 and 6 at the time. She would often have a craft project or activity to do to keep them entertained. She even took them out trick-or-treating during a blizzard one year.

“She was their favorite babysitter,” she said.

Carrie Zempel Heise worked with her at a bar called The Jungle, now Dutler’s Bowl.

“I ran into her after the bar had closed down (she was working at Pier 1 Imports), and she told me she was moving out West soon,” Zempel said. “Months later, word got back that she had married Billie Joe, and then the next thing I saw was an interview with him in Rolling Stone magazine talking about his pregnant wife!”

When Adrienne finished school, Billie Joe convinced her to move to California and marry him. Rueda said it happened so fast it seemed she was gone over night. Before she left, she and friends had a big garage sale, said Amy Lennartson of Eagle Lake. She and Lennartson originally had plans to move to San Francisco together and open a business.

“She headed West that May, and I stayed over the summer to finish up my time at MSU,” Lennartson said. “Then, in true rock star fashion, I returned home from a Fourth of July vacation to a wedding invitation from Adrienne — to a wedding that had already happened.”

The wedding took two weeks to plan and happened in five minutes July 2, 1994, in Billie Joe’s backyard, according to the VH1 “Behind the Music” documentary. “We didn’t think about it, we just did it,” Adrienne said.

Protestant, Catholic and Jewish vows were exchanged because neither had a religion. The honeymoon took place 10 minutes from Billie Joe’s house at the Claremont Hotel. The day after the wedding, Adrienne found out she was pregnant.

The couple has two sons, Joseph Marciano, 14, and Jakob Danger, 10.

Adrienne now co-owns Adeline Records in Oakland, Calif., and Adeline Street clothing line. She works with the Natural Resources Defense Council, and co-owns Atomic Garden, an eco-friendly clothing and home goods store.

There is at least one friend in Mankato Adrienne is reported to keep in contact with. But said friend — whose basement Green Day was reported to have played in and who reportedly visited the Armstrongs in California — wasn’t eager to talk about it.

Rueda kept in contact with Adrienne for a while. Adrienne would send the Rueda kids Green Day T-shirts and things. She also sent a family photo to the Ruedas years ago. When Adrienne’s first son was 1 1/2, she came back to Mankato to visit and Rueda saw them. She was the same person she had always been, Rueda said.

A few years ago, Adrienne asked a friend in Mankato to go to the Ruedas’ house and videotape the kids so she could see how much they had grown up. Otherwise, the Ruedas haven’t heard from her since.

Big time

The night Green Day played St. Peter, the original plan was for them to play at someone’s house behind where Casey’s is now on Lee Boulevard in North Mankato.

Two local bands went on first. But the cops came and broke it up because of the noise. Gruber and his buddy offered to drive equipment and Tre Cool to a house on Fifth Street in Mankato, where somebody had offered up their basement. But the band took one look and said it was way too small.

That’s when a girl whose family lived off Hwy. 99 near St. Peter offered her place.

“This whole caravan of cars ended up driving out to her place,” Gruber said.

It was too hot to play in the barn. Gruber suggested the guys make a mini stage out of the wire spools, which they thought was pretty punk rock, even commenting on that stage and show later on a bootleg recording, he said.

Gruber said he later recognized songs such as “Welcome to Paradise” off of “Dookie” that they played that night — the night most people look to as the epitome of nostalgia when it comes to Green Day’s presence in Mankato. People still go to YouTube to check out the nine or so minutes of footage from that concert, despite being out of focus, jittery and too dark to see much.

“Took me back,” Gruber said of watching the footage. “That guy filming, he was probably standing right next to me and my friends.”

A couple of hundred people have similar memories from that night, having accidentally stumbled upon a concert that would become local legend. None of them could possibly have imagined what Green Day would become.

“Dookie,” released in 1994 — which followed 1992’s “Kerplunk,” having sold 50,000 copies — sold more than 10 million copies in the U.S. That album, along with those of The Offspring and Rancid, is credited for reviving mainstream interest in punk music, and it won Best Alternative Album at the Grammy Awards.

Future albums, “Insomniac” and “Nimrod,” went double platinum, and “Warning” went gold. None of them reached the level of success of “Dookie.”

But 2004’s punk rock opera “American Idiot” changed everything. Debuting at No. 1 and selling five million copies, critics absolutely drooled over it. “American Idiot” won Best Rock Album at the 2005 Grammys and swept the MTV Video Music Awards.

“Boulevard of Broken Dreams” spent 16 weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks chart and won the Grammy for Record of the Year. During the band’s 150-date tour in support of the album, they drew crowds of 130,000 people over two days in the United Kingdom.

The band’s new album, “21st Century Breakdown,” was released worldwide May 15 and received rave reviews. Last week the band played “The Tonight Show” with Conan O’Brien.

Their world tour kicks off in July, with the Minneapolis show at the Target Center July 11.

#daslfhasdlfkha imagine staying on the couch of a guy who wrote a sappy love song about your gf/fiancee #articles #Green Day #article #interview #babe-drienne #billie joe armstrong

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