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inevitableisopod · 30 days ago

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Utterly Ridiculous

Okay so, as promised, today is sword review day!

Last year, i bought a LK Chen sword, my first one in fact! For those who don't know LK Chen is a Chinese sword manufacturer that specialises in high fidelity replicas of original Chinese swords

Enter the Yan-Ling Dao. so, what is a dao? its basically the equivalent of a European falchion or messer, especially the yan-ling dao, or goose quill sabre; which usually has a (sometimes sharpened) false edge near the point where it narrows dramatically to a honestly somewhat worryingly fine point, as well as one to two fullers (grooves) running most of the length of the blade.

Specifications

Sword only weight: approx. 878 g (1 lb. 14.9 oz)

Blade length approx. 69.50 cm (27.36")

Handle including fitting 18.00 cm (7.08")

Total length 87.00 cm (34.25")

Point of Balance approx. 8.5 cm (3.35") from hand guard

Blade thickness

at base: 8.50 mm

40 cm from base: 5.00 mm

5 cm from tip: 2.20 mm

Blade width

at base: 33.5 mm

40 cm from base: 33.0 mm

50 cm from base: 35.0 mm

60 cm from base: 31.0 mm

it features wrought iron hilt and scabbard fittings, a (what looks like oak) handle; which is glued and pinned to the tang in 3 places, 2 bamboo pins and a hollow copper pin that allows a lanyard to be attached; wrapped in waxed cotton what is not glued in place, but is however wrapped so tightly that i sincerely doubt it will ever come loose. the sword carries a sun and sky theme with a sun shaped guard and brass decoration around the copper pin. the scabbard fittings match the square handle fittings and feature cloud motifs at the attachment points with copper rivets to continue the colour scheme.

it comes with a wood cored and vegan leather wrapped scabbard that does not retain the sword. i have few problems with this especially concerning that the blade widens until about 2/3 of the way along but it could certainly be a tighter fit. fit aside i have no problems with the scabbard. the general fit and finish of the sword is superb, everything is extremely tight and i could not find a gap or seam i could actually get a fingernail in. the peen is very clean and the hollow copper pin and brass washer are sanded smooth enough you cannot feel them in your grip.

a final thing to note in details is that it comes as standard with a pattern welded blade, and while this doesn't effect the blade performance in any way with modern steels (in fact perhaps decreasing the durability) it is extremely well executed and honestly beautiful to look at, the pattern reminding of ink in water smoke,or perhaps a wood grain. the pattern is very fine and lightly etched, and the overall blade finish is a mirror polish

Onto usage! this is what inspired the title because the bastard thing is absolutely terrifying. its rather forward weighted but still fast and agile, and most importantly, boy does it cut. it's honestly perhaps too good at cutting? bottles? no resistance, even if you significantly bugger it up, wood is absolutely fine so long as you don't go too far, there is almost zero hand shock and due to the fact that the blade is oh so slightly convex, the edge is shockingly durable and like a razor. I've shaved with this sword, and it was bloody smooth. early on i had a small accident with it where it bit through 4 towels, a hoodie and about 6mm into my arm while i was wiping it off with no notable resistance

above is a cardboard tube i cut with it. these make fairly difficult targets as they are relatively hard on the surface and very light, so they just tend to go flying if the cut isn't perfect. this sword doesn't have that problem. it just does it. below is an example of a rising cut where i massively messed up my angle

here's a poplar branch it cut through in one blow (thumb for scale)

it cuts. really well. it also handles very nicely, it feels half way between a very nimble and agile blade that just wants to move, and a blade that desires to be swung into a target as hard as possible with no finesse, and honestly, it does both really well. it stabs extremely well too, i first tested it against bottles and then wood, deliberately twisting the point slightly, and it's still completely straight.

so it's an incredible cutter, it thrusts well, and it's durable beyond what you would expect it to be. so what's the downside?

well, the scabbard just straight up doesn't retain the blade. at all. and the handle is very square. i personally found the handle very comfortable if gripped below the iron fittings, and the handle geometry is certainly beneficial to edge alignment, but it's worth pointing out

Overall, i completely adore it. it's my favorite sword in my collection and the one i'd keep if i had to give up all the others. it's full of character, it cuts like a monster and honestly it's just drop dead gorgeous.

available from the knight shop (uk) or kult of athena (us) for the low low price of £475 (check kult of athena yourself icba)

in conclusion, get it. now. i am no longer asking. i don't care if you aren't a fan of Chinese swords or sabres but it's so magnificent you need one, even if you think you don't

Thank you all for reading my beloved readers, next post will be something? i'm open to suggestions. the next review may be coming in December or January. it might be another dao or perhaps a sidesword???????

May your edges stay sharp, and your points true!

#ancient rome #swords #academia #lord of the rings #sword #adventure #fencing #sword fighting #warrior #armor #sabre #saber #review

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maggyme13 · 1 month ago

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Moving atop the Underworld (11/?)

Ellie just moved into a new flat. Introducing herself to her downstairs neighbor with a cake she did not realize what the future held for her and him. And what had an asshole coworker to do with it?

AN: welcome welcome to a new chapter :P

Don´t like-> Don´t Read, Minors DNI

Warning:

Wordcount: around 1.9k

Masterlist

Series-Masterlist

Part 10

“You wanted to speak with me Mr. Silver?”, Ellie announced her arrival with a knock, her voice weak even though she tried to be strong.

“Yes, Mrs. Syverson. Please take a seat. Would you like something to drink?”, the Mafia boss hummed with a smile, offering her a seat opposite his table.

“No, thank you, Sir. What can I do for you?”

“I wish to apologize. What happened to you should not have happened. No harm should have come to you under this roof. You are married to one of my best men and you work for me directly. Also, you have never given any reason for mistrust. Unfortunately, I cannot change what has happened, I can only ask for forgiveness and redemption. Seeing that Captain already avenged you, I wish to offer you a favor for each day you have been tortured. You can use these favors for anything, but leaving. I am sorry, but once in this life, one can only leave in the Reaper's arms. As long as the favor is within the realms of doable it will be granted.”

“I- thank you.”, she answered stunned, Mr. Silver sounded sincere and deeply sorry.

“It´s the last thing I can do. I have another job for you as soon as you feel ready to return.”

“What would that be, Sir?”

“An entire executive office floor for one of my firms. My office, the front room and lobby for the secretary, the meeting room, and a restroom interior.”

“Deadline?”

“Thanksgiving, if possible.”

“Wood?”

“Bog Oak, European Chestnut, and silver highlights.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. Table-legs will be metal with black mat finish.”

“Blueprints and floor plan?”

“Over there.”

“With these specifications, I´ll need to go to the wood trade.”

“Say a time and I will have a driver and assistant to go with you.”

“I will need at least two days for a quick planning to see how much material I´ll need.”

“Someone will get you to the Trade on Thursday. I´ll have my secretary make an appointment.”

“Thank you, Mr. Silver.”

“I have also ordered your workshop to be moved to the empty barn in the garden. It has a separate little office area and more room for working and the machines.”

“Oh, I´ll take a look then.”

“Go ahead. I´ll be waiting for your designs and ideas.”, he dismissed her with a short kind gesture.

“What did the Boss want?”, Sy asked the second she met him in his room. He sounded on edge and ready to rip him a new one if he had upset her enough to endanger any progress she had made the last couple of days.

“He… apologized for ...what happened, and gave me three favors that he owes me. I also got a new job. An executive floor. I´ll be going to the wood trade on Thursday. Oh, and did you know they moved my workshop? It´s now in the barn. I did not know there was a barn.”, Ellie explained, frowning at the last part, at the same time wondering just how big the property was.

“He did? The old barn is on the other side of the Property, right next to the shooting range and training grounds. So right next to my area.”

“Oh.”, she breathed, at least muscles won´t be far if needed.

Deciding to ignore the sound his wife had just made he took in every little twitch of her muscles.

“Do you know who will escort you to the Trade?”

“No. Mr. Silver only said someone would come with me. Why, is there someone who should no-”

”No. Escort missions are only done by me or my people, in certain instances, Alejandro and his second give a helping hand. So whoever goes with you, I trust. I am only asking ´cause there a some who mentioned they were interested in learning more about your work. So it would make sense to send one of those with you.”

“Okay.”, Ellie breathed again staring out of the window, eyes unfocused on the large garden, “Do you know if the office Mr. Silver mentioned is finished? I need to start a rough plan to see how much I need. I would rather avoid going there more than necessary.”

“It should be ready. We simply moved your old setup there. IT is already waiting for the parts of your new PC, once they are delivered you get a new setup. Give me a moment to change and I will show you the way.”

“Thank you.”, she whispered with a sincere smile, Ellie knew how much Sy was doing for her, but sometimes she wondered if he was neglecting his duties for her.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Mrs. Syverson, I need to take this call. I will just be around the corner over there. Please wait for me before continuing.”, Xander (short for Alexander Alexandrovic how he had introduced him earlier, but everyone called him Xander to avoid confusing him and Syverson) stated, noticing the name on the screen of his smartwatch.

“Of course. I´ll be here and take a closer look at those slabs of European Chestnut.”, Ellie told her companion for that day.

The owner of the Trade had just excused himself a minute earlier to (presumably) scream at a poor worker in the other warehouse who had to unload a huge load of new lumber that was delivered wrong.

Mesmerized by the black and dark brown veins the heartwood had developed over the long ages the prior tree had grown, reminding her of some areas of marble, the woodworker did not notice the stranger's approach.

“Mrs Ellie Syverson?”, a low and slightly condescending female voice caught her attention.

“Yes? How can I help you?”, she continued, now looking at the newcomer who was clad in a casual dark suit-like uniform. Not something someone would wear working at a wood trade and knowing of the ´way of thinking´ by the owner, no female office worker would be allowed to dress this masculine.

“Detective Susan Stahl. You recently got married to Mr. Alexander Syverson. Am I right?”

“Yes?”, Ellie answered with an unsure expression. Why was she being questioned? Should she ask for a lawyer? But that would cause suspicions, right?

“How did you meet if you don´t mind me asking?”

“I moved into the apartment above his.”

“In that case you must have fallen head over heels for him, considering you lived there for what… six months tops before tying the knot?”, the detective's eyes bore into her, as they were trying to dissect her every thought.

“It felt right, for the two of us, so we decided we could not wait. None of us could take time off work, so we simply did the bureaucratic part of the wedding for now and will do the celebratory and honeymoon part next year. We are currently deciding on where to go.”

“Are you. Well, each their own, right? So what brings you here today?”

“Looking for some wood I need for an assignment.”

“For yourself or?”

“No, for a Customer of mine. And before you ask, Detective, I cannot tell you the names of them, they are prestigious and do not wish to be mentioned or talked openly about. I just started freelancing, so I cannot risk losing a possibly good customer.”

“I – have a nice day Mrs. Syverson, and well wished for that project of yours.”, Detective nodded and disappeared as fast as she had appeared. Much to Ellie´s confusion, she figured out her sudden departure when she saw Xander and the Owner returning.

“Apologies again, but good workers are hard to come by.”, the owner sneered.

“I will take these 10 slabs of European Chestnut as well as the 15 slabs of the Bog Oak you showed us earlier. I also take another 10 slabs of 65mm and 10 Slabs of 45mm oak with only small branches.”, she stated, “Please have your men gather my order. Someone will come by tomorrow and get it.”

“My pleasure. I just need some information for the invoice.”

“Here is the information you need. You may also call the number if you need anything else.”, Xander piped in then, handing over a business card, “Now please excuse us, we have more business to attend to.”

“Of course.”

“Mrs. Syverson.”, the man then motioned for her to follow and she happily obliged.

“I don´t like that man. Never have, never will.”, she shivered as soon as they were seated in the car, “Do you know if Mr. Silver is at the Villa today? I need to speak to him, as well as my Husband.”

“Because of that woman that showed up as soon as she thought you were alone?”

“Yes. Wait, you saw her? I thought you had left.”

“Would not be a good escort if I left my detail out of my sight. Captain´s orders are clear for situations like that. I also noticed her lingering around earlier. At no moment you were in any danger. I assure you.”

“I- would you mind if I make a quick call?”

“Of course not. Go ahead. Would you like to make another stop before returning to the Villa?”

“I´ll let you know after I spoke with Sy.”

“What´s wrong?”, her husband´s voice rumbled almost as soon as she had called him.

“I- A Detective Susan Stahl approached me, asking questions about -us.”, she admitted with a heavy heart and worry gnawing at her innards, the strong look Xander sent her through the mirror had her gulp.

“I´ll let Boss know. Have Xander drive you to other appointments to make sure you don´t look suspicious. Visit a hairdresser, get a massage, and something to eat. Take a least three hours.”, he continued with a heavy sigh, “I am sure you did your best in that situation, so do not worry too much.”

“O-okay, I will tell him.”

“I have to hang up now. Bye.”

“Bye, Sy.”

“New orders?”, Xander piped up from the driver's seat.

“Yes, Sy wants you to drive me around, to do my hair, get a massage, and something to eat, for at least three hours.”

“I know just the place for a good massage, what would you like to eat?”

“Just a coffee shop or small bakery is enough I think.”, any appetite she might have had was going through her nervousness.

“Do you have a hairdresser you frequent?”

“Not really.”

“Then I will drive you to the one that did your heart for the celebration. Unless you don´t want them?”

“No, they were rather nice when they did my hair back then.”, she mumbled.

.--..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Smart thinking with the recording, but Boss is right: Next time give them the number of the attorney we just gave you. Why did you record it thought?”

“That man caused me a lot of trouble in the past. Delivered shitty wood and I got blamed. I record meetings with him ever since.”, Ellie explained.

“No matter the reason: I am proud of you.”

Part 12

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#captain syverson #captain syverson x ofc #mafia au #henry cavill #enforcer Sy

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pinkmoondoll9shihtzu · 2 years ago

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rlly love this old paris chic art for girls… wish it made a comeback x

ok yes, YES,..thanku for bringing this to my attention because i actually have so much of these type graphics saved to my computer. i dont know what to call them? it reminds me of winx club and like, gossip girl. it was for girls who wantd to look sophisticated & thoughtful but still a little emo. girls who put marilyn monroe quotes in their flickr bio

i wonder if this style cld ever make a sincere comeback. european alice in wanderlust chic is not fashionable anymore like it was in the early 2000s. these types of images are very whimsical whereas all the most prominent art rn has this sort of doomed & self aware edge to it. so if this stuff did come back into popular consciousness it wld most likely be in a more tongue-in-cheek "memeable" way. the innocence can never be restored but still i love collecting this kind of stuff & feeling the warmth of how things used to be. <3

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eatmangoesnekkid · 9 months ago

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Belly Dance Week 24 or so--Shaking in Hot Weather

What I noticed about belly dancing outside of the Western mindset which is rooted in the white male mind is that dance in a northern Europe climate has an element of scarcity to it, similar to how the most nutritious fruits do not grow in cold climates and there is a limit to what can be accessed or plucked off from a tree. Watermelon in Amsterdam vibrates and tastes completely different than watermelon in Mexico, DR, or even the South of Italy in summers. Cold weather has a scarcity consciousness buried inside and the body, especially a Brown or highly melaninated body, has to work very hard to stay healthy. It is not natural for most of us to live with low vitamin D levels. And this is the second time I have lost my residence's permit for Amsterdam. Perhaps that's the ancestors' way of wacking me over the head.

And I've been actually wacked over the head recently in another way. I was laying in bed sleeping deeply then suddenly I woke up out of nowhere and sat straight up in bed. Then "pop!" It felt like someone had hit me with baseball bat on my forehead. My partner was in Germany so there was no hanky-panky happening. I was alone and fell right back to sleep. The next day when I looked into the mirror--I had a bruise and scar the size of a dime and some head pain. I had already signed up for hot yoga so I went to class with all this mystery going on and during class thought I wouldn't be able to finish it. The heat was making the pain feel worse. Every time I leaned forward, I felt this stabbing across my forehead. I started taking it easy and relaxing more in my postures, doing about 80 percent of what I usually do. The teacher encouraged me, like she would any other regular, to go further because she was familiar with my capacity. I whispered to her what was going on. After class, she suggested I go see a doctor. "You could be internally bleeding." Well, I knew I didn't need a doctor. I needed to listen. Ha! The mystery bruise and scar have since cleared up as if they never happened.

Dancing in warm weather brings abundance to the body and to the dance. Don't get me wrong--I love my dance teachers in Europe who were born in Arabic cultures where Egyptian belly dance was taught to them as little girls by their grandmums-so cute. But I think that when you grow up in Europe or the US, you have to be mindful to not develop that western mind that doesn't realize that we are all different, our bodies are different, and therefore all our jiggles and gyrations will also look different. I think that can be tricky because you are learning to fit in with the European mind in order to date, to work, to socialize, etc., but that mind also comes with its own sneaky rigidity.

But I'm so grateful how my teachers in Europe have helped me to access my full hip girdle, and there is just this undertone of perfectionism that lives in the root system of the West and can be difficult to notice how we've all been affected by it. It is through this mindset that we learn how to walk, talk, and be in the world. I feel like some dancers in the West can get stuck in technique instead of the deep soulful feeling of the dance--tuning more into how the dance and music FEEL when they meet-the-moment of the body --than how they look—which should vary.

Dancing in a warm country is familiar to my soul. In heat, I move like the laws of fire and water getting rid of the pollution. There is a lot of diversity in the shapes of women's bodies and there is freedom to sway outside of the edges, because there is no such thing as an "edge." Women dance in huge shapeless mumu dresses, short skirts, bikinis, booty shorts, scarfs, etc. and there is no standard for anything. Everything is just wild and incredibly in harmony. In my first class, there were women in their 60s and young girls around 12. They all felt like family. There was a sincere love of one another that the women had nurtured together over the years. They assumed I was a "negrita" --a cute young dark girl, but I assured them that I was grown and a mama bear. And although I don't speak the Spanish very well, i always freshen up on the different ways to greet: formal, casual, an elderly person, and a child and ask basic things like “how are you” in Spanish. And I felt tiny pieces of home and sweetly connected. But I don’t want to romanticize it either. Because when you are foreigner and don’t speak the language fluently, you will always be a little exotic and an outsider but with the right attitude and courtesies, you can mingle your through and discover preciousness and other local harmonies where ever you land.-India Ame'ye, Author

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 2 years ago

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what godforsaken corner of twitter did the comparisons between napoleon and adolf fucking hitler, ye’s new boyfriend, come from? because iirc, one of them spread those good vibes 👌🏼👌🏼 towards jews, and the other gassed millions of them and worked millions more to death ???? like what???

uggh gross.

So, I haven't seen what's on twitter lately, mostly because I've really taken a step back from the platform over the last year or so. It's a cesspit and I hate everyone on it (barring my friends who I love).

However, the comparing Napoleon to Hitler is an old nonsense that's been going on for years and it's a real fucking piss off. It absolutely comes from the fact that Napoleon represents strong, centralized state power and is, obviously, associated with years of war in Europe (who started what, where, and when is a discussion for elsewhere). The supposed analogy to Hitler is drawn by those who literally know only the previous two points about Napoleon.

Aside from, like, Napoleon's reputation (dude's fine), the bigger issue, the more important issue, is how it trivializes what Hitler did and all he represents. It's harmful and hurtful to survivors and their decendents, and all Jews everywhere, and it's an absolute fucking pissoff.

The holocaust and Hitler are not things to throw around as edgy internet points - whether in an attempt to slag off Napoleon (please people, the man has enough shit in his legacy, you don't need to bring Hitler into it), or in an attempt to idk, grant Hitler some edge of "legitimacy" or "he's just like others" or something.

I hate this garbage. Fuck all that noise.

gross gross gross

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Some stuff on Napoleon and Jews

[Disclaimer: I'm not Jewish, nor is this area of Napoleon's reign a speciality of mine, so I may get things wrong, or not-quite-right. Sincere apologies in advance. Please feel free to add on or correct me if I put my foot in it.]

Napoleon's relationship with the Jewish community in France was complicated, as these things usually are in the late 18th and early 19th century Europe. Especially when undertaken by a child of Revolution and Enlightenment who was still cultrually Catholic (though, his faith and associated beliefs were complex and changed over the course of his life) and grew up within all the anti-semetic baggage that was part and parcel of European life at that time (and still is, in many respects, today).

Note: Historians are all over the place on Napoleon’s views, whether he hated the Jews or not, whether he was purely out for his own gain or not, whether there was any altruism present or not. People are very, very, very heated about the subject - which makes sense. Just like, as a general flag.

Some of the first laws in France that emancipate the Jews came into effect during the French Revolution - so they pre-date Napoleon's assencion to power by a good few years. E.g., the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, 1789, granted freedom of religion and worship, provided that it did not contradict public order.

Napoleon himself kept these laws, building some aspects of them into the Code. In countries he conquered, he emancipated the local Jewish population - all as part of his effort to further spread the French Revolutionary ideals then, later, the French Imperial ideals.

The big thing Napoleon's famous for is revoking the laws that required Jews to reside within ghettos thus enabling them to rent or own property with greater liberty than previously experienced. In 1807, Napoleon passed a law designating Judaism one of the official religions in France alongside Catholicism, Lutheranism, and Calvinist Protestants (i.e., Hugenots). He also opened up previously restricted occupations and broadened the economic opportunities of the Jewish community.

Napoleon had the national Israelite Consistory established which served as a centralized authority for Jewish religious, economic, and community life within France (Napoleon loved centralized authorities). There were regional Consistories as well that answered to the national one. The Consistories were all run by a board composed entirely of Jews, appointed by the local prefect (who would not have been Jewish). So it was a blend of Jewish autonomy and independence yet structured within Napoleon's top-down approach to government (as the prefect would have been one of Napoleon's appointments/his hiring would have been informed by Napoleon's preferences).

An unintended benefit of Napoleon mucking around in Europe was that he broke up many of the existing caste systems simply by steam rolling in and saying "alright, have the Code Napoleon." Through the dissolution of these systems, and the political values/regulations imposed via Napoleon's takeovers, life, broadly speaking, improved for Jews - especially in the Rhineland and other areas of the Germanies and states subsumed into France. As always, though, YMMV and this is brush strokes.

---

However. It's always more complicated than just "only good(ish) things."

As noted, Napoleon was a Christian-acculturated man born in 1769 and this reflects in his approach towards Jews and his policies and the motiviations behind said policies.

Napoleon was keen on creating an integrated, somewhat unified French society and identity, with French language and cultural norms being the dominate traits that people should embody. The concept of national identity was still, broadly, in its infancy in 1800 but he was certainly a proponent of it.** So, while Jews were liberated from the ghettos, Napoleon expected them to assimilate into French society - which he thought meant giving up some of their religious and cultural traditions.

In addition, Napoleon still restricted where Jews could migrate within the French Empire, which was done in tandem with his attempt to end, or at least greatly restrict, Jewish money lending. Again, all tied to attempts to support assimilation.

Money lending had, historically, been one of the few trades open to Jews in Europe (e.g., Venice limited Jews to money lending and selling of second hand items. They could practice as doctors only with a special papal dispensation which required sponsorship from a respected patron - usually bishop or cardinal, sometimes a nobleman or patrician) and Napoleon was concerned, in typical anti-semetic style, that Jews were taking advantage of their customers.

Napoleon was also seeking to try and push Jews into new professions - primarily the trades and agriculture - so there was a focus in his regulations to encourage Jews to pursue farming or artisinal trades, among other things. Again, again, assimilation - but it’s also informed by the fact that France’s economy by 1806/08 was showing signs of slowing down and Napoleon was attempting to stall this. His restrictions on migration, I believe, were revoked in 1811 and the remainder of the restrictions ended when the Infamous Decree of 1808 was not renewed (during the Bourbon restoration).

Another negative impact was the loss of Jewish naming traditions. In his effort to make the world’s largest bureaucracy, Napoleon began requiring people to have surnames. Not necessarily a common thing at the time, and he had certain rules about the names people could choose. For Jews, they couldn’t pick anything from the Torah, nor could they use town names, and these restirctions - along with the entire requirement itself - led to a loss of Jewish naming practices in these regions, at least outwardly. How communities worked to maintain these traditions within themselves is another story.

In addition, while the Jews had far greater freedom to worship than previously experienced, some of the aspects of their relgious life remained regulated - though it was via the Consistory system previously mentioned. The actual day-to-day impact of this on religious and cultural life for France’s Jews, I don’t know. I’m sure someone’s done a study on it though.

(**Napoleon was generally pro-immigration and believed it didn't matter "what side of the Rhine" a person was born on, if they wanted to be French they were French. However, they were expected to assimilate into to French society, to super over simplify his stance. I've a post somewhere in my backlog about Napoleon's immigration stuff. [Insert obligatory disclaimer about applying broad statements and how it's always way more complex and nuanced etc. etc.])

---

On a personal level, who knows what Napoleon actually thought about Jews and what he was hoping to attain as a final outocme of his various legislations. Some of his quotes say he was aiming for full integration to the point where Jews are no longer visibly distinct (clothing, culture, language, food etc.). Some was just more general “I just want everyone to be French(tm) but otherwise, so long as you pay taxes, I don’t care”.

I suspect it was a mix since, in terms of extant quotes, he swings in his motivations, his views, his expectations. There are quotes where he's quite anti-semetic (see some of his comments in 1806) and ones where he's not as bad.

I don’t think he’s every wholly not anti-semetic - even his better statements are still tinged with it. Which, unfortunately, was par for the course of most people at that time. He wasn’t virulent or violent, the way some were (and are), but the broad anti-semetism of the time was certainly in him.

That said, Napoleon valued his appearance of being a liberator and understood the importance of having people On Side, which impacted his regulatory and legislative decisions. I also think he did believe in some of the old values of the Revolution. There was an idealist streak in him that came out from time to time and was, to my reading, truly earnest.

It's also important, for the sake of context, to note that in passing a lot of his more liberatory laws, he pissed off powerful groups. As emperor, he was always balancing different political interests of many parties - both internal and external to France - and this does need to be taken into account. Many of his actions, as they pertain to the Jews, would have been seen by much of Europe at the time as quite revolutionary (even if today we look at it and go "some of this was good, some of this was not good"). So there was some sticking-his-neck-out-a-bit.

Some of the powers-that-be, such as Austria, Russia, England, were opposed to Napoleon's approach to his Jewish subjects, not to mention internal-to-France powers and pressures. It's all a balancing act in a situation that could be a powder-keg.

---

In exile, Napoleon's doctor Barry O'Maera asked about his reasons for "encouraging the Jew so much" (to use O'Maera's words) and Napoleons' response really was a balance of different motives - some good, some YIKES, some anti-semetic, some pragamtic, some a clear carry over of revolutionary ideals etc.:

I wanted to make them leave off usury, and become like other men. There were a great many Jews in the countries I reigned over ; by removing their disabilities [i.e., their legal restrictions], and by putting them upon an equality with Catholics, Protestants, and others, I hoped to make them become good citizens, and conduct themselves like others of the community. I believe I should have succeeded in the end. My reasoning with them was, that, as their rabbis explained to them, that they ought not to practise usury to their own tribes, but were allowed to do so with Christians and others, that, therefore, as I had restored them to all their privileges, and made them equal to my other subjects, they must consider me the head of their nation, like Solomon or Herod, and my subjects as brethren of a tribe similar to theirs. That, consequently, they were not permitted to practise usury with me or them, but to treat us as if we were of the tribe of Judah. By this, I gained many soldiers. Besides, I should have drawn great wealth to France as the Jews are very numerous, and would have flocked to a country where they enjoyed such superior privities. Moreover, I wanted to establish an universal liberty of conscience. My system was to have no predominent religion, but to allow perfect liberty of conscious and of thought. To make all men equal, whether Protestant, Catholics, Mahometans [Muslims], Deists, or others ... [Napoelon then goes on to talk about making government independent of religion and the strong importance of separation of church and state. Napoleon was particularly keen on ridding the Catholic Church of their power within state/civic happenings.] - A Voice from St. Helena, Barry O'Meara, p. 183

[I broke out the paragraphs for easier reading. It's one block in the original.]

As always, with exile memoirs, Napoleon is structuring his legacy and trying to create a specific image of himself. That said, I think this is one of the times where I believe what he said does reflect, more or less, his motives and his thinking back during the height of Empire.

---

Anyway - I hope this helps add some nuance to the Napoleon & Jews thing - though written by a non-expert. And yeah, comparing Napoleon to Hitler is bunk history and people should know that by now.

But I will end by again emphasizing that it is disgusting and disrespectiful, if not outright harmful, to throw Hitler and the Holocaust around as edge internet points. That is the real issue here, not Napoleon's reputation.

The real issue is, always is, the anti-semetism.

#can of worms! can of worms!#anti-semetism #Napoleon bonaparte #ask #reply #anon #history #napoleonic #jewish history #19th century #holocaust mention #shoah mention

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mariacallous · 8 months ago

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The Council of Europe’s Parliamentary Assembly Committee on Political Affairs and Democracy voted on Wednesday to adopt a ‘statutory opinion’ recommending that Kosovo’s application for membership of the human rights organisation should be accepted.

Kosovo delegation members confirmed that 31 Council of Europe states voted in favour, four against and one abstained.

Serbian public broadcaster, RTS, reported that two members of Serbian delegation and members from Montenegro and Bosnia and Herzegovina voted against while one Greek representative abstained.

“The opinion recommends Kosovo’s membership to the Council of Europe without any additional condition,” said Perparim Kryeziu, a spokesperson for Kosovo government.

The vote on Wednesday brings Kosovo closer to eventual membership despite Serbia’s strong opposition.

“Victory… First step is done, two others to follow before it’s finally done,” Arben Gashi, head of the opposition Democratic League of Kosovo party’s parliamentary group, wrote on Facebook.

PACE committee said that membership of the Council of Europe would “catalyse momentum for Kosovo to continue to make progress in strengthening human rights, democracy and the rule of law and address outstanding challenges and matters of concern”.

The author of the statutory opinion that was adopted, Council of Europe rapporteur Dora Bakoyannis, recommended a “positive response” to Kosovo’s application.

In her draft report, which BIRN has seen, Bakoyannis wrote that Kosovo’s membership “would lead to the strengthening of human rights standards by ensuring access to the European Court of Human Rights to all those who are under Kosovo’s jurisdiction”.

Kosovo’s membership chances increased last week when the government ended an eight-year stalemate and granted 24 disputed hectares of land to the Serbian Orthodox Decani monastery.

Serbia, which does not recognise Kosovo’s independence, was one of the four countries that voted against admitting its former province as a member.

On March 22, Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic said that Serbia leaving the Council of Europe is “one of the possibilities” if Kosovo is allowed to join.

Kosovo applied to join the Council of Europe in May 2022. The decision was taken after Russia was expelled following its invasion of Ukraine. This provided an opportunity for Kosovo to join as, without Russia, two-thirds of the organisation’s member states recognise Kosovo – the number required for approval of membership.

In March 2023, the Council of Europe voted to send Kosovo’s application to the organisation’s Parliamentary Assembly.

The Council of Europe is the main human rights organisation in Europe and has 46 member states, including all European Union states.

Besides Serbia, 11 more Council of Europe countries, five of them EU members, do not recognise Kosovo.

In her report, Bakoyannis mentioned what she called these “unprecedented circumstances” and urged the Committee of Ministers, the Council of Europe’s decision-making body, to ensure that if Kosovo joins, individual member states should “respect the decision made by the Committee of Ministers and collaborate sincerely and effectively in its implementation”, whatever their stance on the recognition issue.

In April last year, 33 member states voted in favour of accepting Kosovo’s membership application and initiating the accession procedure.

Kosovo’s next step towards membership is a vote at the Council of Europe Parliamentary Assembly meeting in April.

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weaselandfriends · 2 years ago

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hey! Just watched Players, and was interested in hearing more of your thoughts on it--in what respects you found it hewed true to your own research/experience. I've never engaged with eSports, but Players' depiction of "online masculinity" more broadly was very compelling to me, and reminded me of Jay from CQ, albeit with a more balanced/positive slant. I think that sincerity/positivity hurt the show by preventing it from exploring racism/sexism in gaming culture; you catch glimmers of it, particularly in the internet's reaction to Nightfall's replacement of Guru, but the show goes out of its way to avoid couching it in those terms, presumably to show eSports in a more sympathetic light. Race and gender are common themes in your stories; do you think you would have placed more of a focus on them? Also, have you seen American Vandal? That show's first season was memorable to me for its dissonant ending, which placed all that preceded in a new light; Players has a more understated version of the same, in which Organizm's inhuman, unhinged voicemail is shown to have perfectly predicted Creamcheese's feelings, thus humanizing it in retrospect--only for Organizm to reject this, sacrificing everything in pursuit of impossuble perfection. Many of the show's characters are embodiments of some skill/archetype, and it asks what exactly separates these paragons from ordinary people--which I felt closely matched your own style of characterisation. Thanks for your time!

I'll preface this by saying that I haven't actually seen Players. I just know about it, since it was heavily advertised on the LCS stream when it came out. I'll mention a fun fact though: Nightfall's actor is actually an ex-LCS pro named Youngbin, a Korean-American who once played for Team Liquid. As I understand it, the show also has cameos from many other real pros and esports personalities.

I can speak about some of the topics you brought up, though. First up, racism in the esports scene. This was one of the major topics I wanted to cover in my planned esports story. In particular, I wanted to use the story as a vehicle to challenge the idea of American exceptionalism. In League of Legends, the North American region is a distant fourth best, behind Korea, China, and Europe. In the early days of the scene it was possible to chalk this discrepancy up to infrastructure, especially when it came to Korea; having already developed a sophisticated esports scene due to StarCraft, Korea had an organizational and coaching edge over the rest of the world from about 2012, when the game first took off in Korea, to 2017, when big money investors in the other three regions were injecting huge cashflows into teams. This was an era of Korean dominance, where Korean teams won almost every time. To catch up, the other three regions would import Korean players to their regions as much as possible (since 2015 there have been rules in place to limit imports to 2 per 5-man team), and the only region to ever really catch up to Korea is China, which combined high-money importing of top Korean pros with the gargantuan Chinese server population (China loves League of Legends, it's like the national sport) to finally start winning some tournaments.

North America has consistently lagged behind even China and Europe, an issue mainly related to low server population and poor American internet infrastructure, which forces most prospective NA players to learn and practice the game on much higher ping than pros in any of the other major regions. On top of NA being bad, NA is consistently buoyed by high-profile import players, as opposed to "native" North American players. Actual American and Canadian players often take up filler role player positions around imported Korean and European stars, which has led to a general fact of life that Americans are simply not that good at the game compared to the competition. This is in spite of the fact that League of Legends is an American game made by an American company. It's a joke in traditional sports that Americans are only the best at sports they made, but in League, Americans aren't even that. I wanted to center my story around an American role player in a more supportive position like top, who would have to grapple with the fact that despite being in the top 1% of the top 1% of the top 1% of players, he was simply not good enough to matter beyond that.

Racism in the esports scene is an odd issue, because it's less "racism" and more "regionalism"--or xenophobia. This is due to the league format of professional League of Legends, in which regional leagues (Korea, China, Europe, and NA) feed into a major international Worlds cup. In a sports scene where teams are not tied to specific cities the way they are in traditional sports, this regionalism is often what drives fans to support certain teams, what causes people to root for a team that feels like "theirs." This makes the fan ecosystem closer to the way people root for teams or players at the Olympics or the World Cup, instead of what it's like in the NFL, NBA, etc. Where things get complicated in terms of League is that unlike the Olympics or World Cup, teams from a region are allowed to field players from other regions to represent them. In North America, as I mentioned, this issue is exacerbated because not only are North American teams bad, they're bad often without even being quote-unquote "North American." I mentioned before that there is an import rule that ostensibly ensures every team is 3/5ths comprised of native players. However, due to a variety of loopholes and also the United States' significantly more lenient legal residency and immigration restrictions compared to China, there are many players who were imported to NA solely to play League of Legends who are now technically counted as non-imports. At the most recent Worlds, NA sent three teams, and of the 15 players on those teams, only 3 were "native North Americans," the rest either being imports or former imports who got green cards, making them legally residents. One team was comprised entirely of imports or former imports. Meanwhile, other regions are represented by teams that have a majority of "native" players. So the fan ecosystem is designed around supporting "your region," but NA is in the unique position where "your region" is majority comprised of players from "another region." Hence the point of soreness.

The racism question gets further complicated by the racial makeup of "native" North American players, which heavily slants toward Asian-Americans/Asian-Canadians. Of the 3 "native" players at Worlds last year, 2 were Asian-American/-Canadian (the third was Quebecois). Doublelift, the most famous and beloved North American pro, on whom I believe Players' Creamcheese was modeled, is a Chinese-American whose real name is Yiliang Peng. The breakout rookie star of last year, Jojopyun, is a Korean-Canadian who "native NA" fans held up as the shining hope of native NA talent. Youngbin himself, who plays Nightfall, is a Korean-American "native" pro. This begs another interesting question: Is it racism to support Asian-Americans over Asian Non-Americans? I think this uniquely positioned sports ecosystem creates a complex and interlocking system of identities that is prime for exploration in a narrative format. With the prevalence of European importing, it becomes even stranger. Most of the white players in the North American league aren't Americans or Canadians, but European imports, who are often subjected to the same prejudice and bias among fans as Korean imports. THEN it gets even more interesting when you factor in country of birth, which isn't even tied to citizenship or residency. One of the most famous "native" North American players is Spica, who was born in China and moved to Philadelphia when he was 10 or so. He still has Chinese citizenship and is only considered a "resident" of the United States, exactly like many of those green card-holding "imports," and yet Spica is universally considered "native" talent by fans. Last year, one team (CLG) made a splash by fielding almost entirely "native" talent, and was held up by fans as the "native talent" team--even though one of their players, Dhokla, was born in India. So where is the line? What distinguishes "native" from "foreign"? This is such a complex notion of identity that I feel like I could talk about it for hours.

As for sexism, yeah it's just really sexist.

I guess it's a bit more nuanced than that. League of Legends is like chess in which there is ostensibly no physical reason why women wouldn't be able to compete at the top level, and yet there simply are very few women who do. I follow the League scene from the amateur system to the pro leagues, and it's not like there is a large number of talented female players who are simply being withheld chances to compete due to organizational/player/fan sexism. There have even been instances of major organizations creating all-female development teams, but these teams are generally comprised of players who simply aren't at a level high enough to compete in the major leagues. Every so often you get a female player or two in the amateur or development leagues, but they don't generally stand out enough to be realistically promoted to a major league team.

In all four major regions, there has only ever been one female player who competed at the top level, that being Remilia, a trans girl, whose story is brutally tragic. She was manipulated and abused by the owner of her team, Chris Badawi, who provided for her a botched gender-reassignment surgery that left her with permanent pain for the rest of her life, until she died by suicide some years later. As you might imagine, any fan discussion on Reddit that even tangentially involved Remilia was a graveyard of posts deleted by moderators. The prejudice there, sadly, is about as rampant and overt as possible.

This post went pretty long, especially since I haven't actually seen the show you asked about and wasn't able to give any more specific thoughts on it. Hopefully, though, this provides a bit more context to the strange and complex regional and racial identity issues in the scene.

#league of legends #lcs

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pcrtgasdace · 2 years ago

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the line between being islamophobic and trying to support women in iran is very thin. hear me out. i am wholeheartedly supporting every woman's and muslim woman's decision to freely choose how to express herself and how to practice her belief. in my book, it's everyone's individual decision and many muslims would agree. i am a muslim woman too. however, the problem lies in western media. i read articles, i see the news about the issues in iran and it's 90% of the time borderline islamophobic.

a german article just yesterday talked about the abolishment of the morality police. we know that it's just a symbolic thing of the iranian government to do to keep people quiet and think they won with their protests. it's no reason to stop raising attention to the issue. but the issue doesn't lie in islam.

the german article immediately talked about islam in a bad light, making islam the problem instead of talking about the real problem. not drawing a clear line and that's sadly intentionally done by western media. because the article emphasized how oppressive and backwards islam is. not really drawing a line between islam in itself and an oppressive system telling women what to do. it's a double edged sword these days, people using this news to further spread their islamophobia in the world.

still. it is not religion but a political, conservatist power in every society that uses religion as its legitimising device.

in every religion there are these two trends which express socio-political forces: one defending stability, which is the state, and the other defending social change, which is the political opposition.

and sometimes i am not too sure people who read these articles actually care to differentiate. or actually care about muslim women. each time a white person tries to talk to me or talks in general about this issue they seem to think the problem is islam itself.

of course, muslims like me support the women and that they can freely choose to wear hijab or not. i am muslim too and i don't wear a hijab, it's not a measurement of who's being more muslim or not.

law involving matters of faith should not be subject to the state’s intervention. This is a matter between allah and each believer. No human being should intervene between allah and a believer or pretend to judge in allah's place whether the believer is sincere or not. the qur’an specifically says that there should be no compulsion in matters of religion.

my main point is: media is still so islamophobic that they don't even try to make a distinction between those women's rights and fueling their hatred for islam. it's just so sickening to see that each time a white person talks to me about this issue i have to make sure they are actually not islamophobic bc they got fed these islamophobic news and western propaganda regularly and usually don't bother to inform themselves more than reading two or three lines in an article. it's incredibly frustrating to watch.

we can find better words than secularism and liberalism within islam itself. such as the priority of reality on the text, the priority of public welfare and that islamic law is based essentially to defend life, reason, honour, dignity, and public wealth. then secularism is already built in islam without any need to inject it from the outside, from the west or the east. those are major intentions of islam which are secular, without using the word secularism.

external intervention is an unlikely means for advancing democracy. we saw how american and european "efforts" to this resulted in afghanistan. while there is every reason to hope for movement toward democracy, you should also be wary of those who tell you, with excessive optimism and no small dose of hubris, that democracy will readily be brought to the region by tanks and weapons.

we can stand with muslim women while also recognizing that we don’t stand against a specific religion from which a billion people derive their personal identity.

#sorry to rant like this #i am just so tired #i don't like to go into politics and religious matters too much on here but yeah. needed to let it out. might delete later.#zira.txt

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allthemusic · 2 months ago

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Week ending: 5th June

Summer! And with it, a double-bill from Max Bygraves, who I'd just about forgotten existed. Though it turns out I do have a vague and tangential connection to one of his songs, this week. Who'd have thunk it?

Tulips From Amsterdam - Max Bygraves (double A-side, peaked at Number 3)

I know this song! Not well, but it's become a bit of a joke in my family, as a sort of little-known bit of cheese. My parents used to be part of a group of people who went and played music and sang in care homes, old nostalgic tunes that the people there would remember. And my dad always talked about this song as an example of a weirdly popular song that really got people singing along, much to my dad's surprise. So yeah, weirdly, I kind of semi know this song already?

It's pure cheese, of course. For every week of cutting-edge, cool songs, you do have to put up with a week of complete sentimental nonsense, and this song is a prime example, a sort of romantic ditty about how when it's spring again, I'll bring again / Tulips from Amsterdam. Max is looking forward to having you back, and promises to bring you flowers, that's it. Though there are some cool little "Dutch" touches, such as the lines about how like the windmill keeps on turning / That's how my heart keeps on yearning, or the la la la section, which is punctuated by what I can only assume are clog-stomps. Plus, we've got a bit of accordion, which sounds a bit stereotypically French to my ears, but it's definitely European-sounding, in any case. So yeah, we're doing tourist pastiche, apparently. And there's nothing wrong with that, I don't mind a little bit of tourist pastiche, as a treat.

Max does the most well-known version of this, but even before looking at who originally did it, I could tell just from the vibes that this would some sort of continental schlager hit. And indeed, the original was a German hit from 1953, Tulpen aus Amsterdam, by one Klaus Günter Neumann, owner of possibly the most German name ever? The music is apparently deliberately trying to imitate the Flower Waltz from the Nutcracker, too, just for added central-European frivolity.

So yes, I do like the jolliness of the thing, the waltz time, the la la la chorus bit, and especially the whistling section that comes in just afterwards. It does conjure an atmosphere of carefree holiday fun, all very sweet and innocent. It's good lightweight fluff.

You Need Hands (double A-side, 3)

I quite liked Tulips from Amsterdam, but unfortunately, I have much less truck with this song. Honestly, the two songs serve as quite a good illustration of why a gimmick isn't always a bad thing. Because in Tulips from Amsterdam, the sentimentality all feels tied up with a cheesy sort of faux-Dutch shtick, whereas this... it's just sentimental for the sake of it, no recognisable point or purpose to it.

It's theoretically a song about all the things you need hands for. And so we hear that you need hands to hold someone you care for / You need hands to show that you're sincere / When you fear nobody wants to know you / You need hands to brush away the tears. Which is already a bit nothingy, a bit cliché and melodramatic. And then it goes all religious on you, with lines about how you need hands to thank the Lord for living / And for giving us this day, and this is where I think the first listen-through I assumed that this was a religious song.

But no, we're not committing to that, either, beacuse the rest of the song is committedly secular. But before we even get there, something even weirder - an annoucnement of let's dance for the ladies and gentlemen, followed by a dance break. It's tap dancing, which does make some sense in an audio medium, but it's still a decidedly odd thing to include, and it all goes on for just a little longer than you'd expect.

And then we're back to the purpose of hands, and how you need them to show the world that you're happy and - uh, let me check - stop a bus? That can't be right, that has, like, 100% less dramatic stakes than the entire rest of the song! You really want to go with - right, okay, you do. Cool, Max. Stellar lyrics. Definitely not anticlimactic at all.

And then we get to the whole point of the song, if it actually has one at all, which is for Max to announce that the hands we love so dear / Are the hands we love to hear / Are the hands that You give to us. Which naturally leads to his audience giving him a raucous round of applause, and a rather chaotic end to the song as Max thanks his live audience. Does this just make is a song that's just about Max begging for applause? It's a choice, for sure, though I'm not sure it's a good one.

That said, the Sex Pistols did cover the song, as soundtrack for a mockumentary satirising the music industry, The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle, which is bizarre enough that it might have redeemed the whole endeavour? That said, I'm listening to it now, and it's much straighter and truer to the original than you'd imagine, except for the inclusion of a xylophone and some random spoken lines to somebody called Helen at the end. Which is fine, but I'm a little disappointed that a punk rock version of this doesn't exist. Somebody get on that, please!

Yeah, one of these songs just felt like a more cohesive whole than the other. Neither was particularly stunning, but there's a reason that it's Tulips from Amsterdam that's fondly remembered in care homes, and not You Need Hands, despite the intriguing Sex Pistols cover.

Favourite song of the bunch: Tulips from Amsterdam

#uk charts #1958 #max bygraves

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more-than-a-princess · 1 year ago

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That was reassuring: it didn't happen often, that she met people who sincerely disliked her. Often due to what she was or represented rather than the person, but in such cases she could not blame them: it was easier to blame those believed to have charmed, perfect lives, who kept others down, or at least subservient to them. But Ryuji's confidence that his friends would readily accept her, not as a princess but as herself, was comforting. "I would very much like to meet them as well, all of your friends," She nodded in agreement. Though behind her smile, she could conceal that, in fact, she did know at least one of his friends. By chance, it seemed, that Haru Okumura had crossed paths with Sonia, European royalty and part of her social circles, and Ryuji, an old schoolmate. To her credit, Sonia was careful in how much she spoke of Ryuji and their times together and Haru, to her credit, was too polite to pry: she'd merely mentioned that he was one of her kouhais in high school.

Haru had also, on the rare occasion, been one of Sonia's favored shopping partners. Creepy aesthetics aside, they shared a similar taste in clothes (vintage-inspired, mostly modest, as necessary for women in charge) and a similar spending allowance (practically non-existent, and with the expectation both young ladies would take full advantage of that prospect where quality was concerned). And so, while Ryuji was shy, Sonia was dumbfounded. It was one thing to shop, when she was allowed, with a woman and one with similar taste and budget. It was quite another to do so with a man, one who likely had never stepped foot into the sorts of places who knew her as 'ma'am' and one who happened to possess such boyish good looks as he did.

"I...I suppose?" She suggested, pushing a lock of loose, wet hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her braid. "Truth be told, I have never selected clothes before with a man. At least, clothes that are meant for me. I thought it would be terribly boring at best for men, or worse, an inappropriate gesture in the eyes of my family. As much of my life as possible is to be kept private, for my own comfort."

Not that she wanted to dissuade him. Her heart had leapt at the prospect of spending more time in his company. Sonia made her way through the leisurely part of the pool towards the swimming lanes, her resolve growing with every step. "But that does not mean I would not like to! I would," She paused, settling into her selected lane. "Very much, Ryuji-san. What would qualify as a 'cool pair?'"

As she positioned herself against the edge, one hand holding on while her feet pressed against the side of the pool in preparation to push off, Sonia shook her head with a smile. "I am not sure there is much to tell, about the beach holiday," She replied, "Whether it is the Maldives, or St. Tropez, or Capri, or Greece, it is mostly private villas or resorts. I like visiting the local communities the most when I am able, as opposed to being closed away the entire time. Though the latter can help me clear my head sometimes, when everything feels so very daunting."

Sonia nodded in agreement: her stamina was nothing like Ryuji's but it was decent enough. She had always been decent, if not good, at sports: it simply was that her family didn't value such skills, at least in a princess. Her academics were all well and good but her lack of artistic talent had always been the cause for concern: no matter how well she excelled in military drills, or horseback riding, or yoga, the fact she was hopeless at all musical and visual art was a constant thorn in her parents' sides.

"Freestyle it is, and three laps! And I am happy to count. Three...two....one!" The last word had been uttered quickly, as Sonia wasted no time in pushing off from the side to cut through the water as fast as possible, as much as her arms and legs would allow. She'd have her work cut out for her, with Ryuji's height and athletic ability to aid him to a likely victory.

There was a childlike wonder to his movements as he swam along in the water, occasionally being overcome by that instinct simply just to wave his arm along the water and watch it splash all around him - his mannerisms were closer to that of a child enjoying a rare treat and in a sense, that much was true. He never had grown up close to any swimming pools and his closest association was swimming in the ocean back when he lived in Hokkaido - and the few very times he'd gotten to visit a public pool, which must have been many years ago now, back when he was in high school at the very least! Still, being in a pool felt as joyful and natural as ever, not even paying any heed to the temperature of the water or how deep it was.

"Heh, they're a pretty great friend!" He was quick to agree with that, smiling cheerfully. "I hope you can meet 'em one day, Sonia! I think they'd like you!" Of course, maybe that was too broad or too optimistic of an assumption but why shouldn't his friends like Sonia? She was nice, she was funny and she was generous - plus, as his friends, they would want to support him! That's how great of friends they were!

Head bobbing up and down as he still tried to gather his thoughts and break the awkwardness he had inadvertently caused, he brought a hand to his chin as he almost shyly suggested. "You know, for our next outing...what if we look at swimsuits...together?" Was that a weird thing to ask a girl? Shaking his head, he waved his arms about as he rushed to clarify. "...You know, for more cool pairs like this! Maybe we could even find you a cool pair too, Sonia...!" Perhaps it was a bit of a weird thing to ask and although the suggestion had initially sprung out of a desperate attempt to break the awkwardness he had created, he still meant it - hanging out with Sonia was always nice, it didn't matter what exactly they were doing - but he knew that they'd have fun. So, why shouldn't shopping for bathing suits be any different...? Or something else, even?

"Great, so we won't disrupt the other swimmers and we can have our race!" He nods, arms already raising to swim toward where she had pointed, though he pauses at her next statement, chuckling in spite of himself. "Guess we'll be in the same boat then, Sonia. I don't think I've ever done any sort of 'official' swim races or lap swimming so I might need to ask you a few things but I'm sure we'll come up with something fun for our race! Plus, I want to hear all about that beach holiday!" He smiled, now beginning to take off toward the area with the black lines.

Raising his head up over the water and turning to look over at Sonia, he brought a thoughtful hand to his chin as he pondered her questions. The extent of his own swim races had largely been simplistic, childhood races across the pool or to a certain point with friends - the number of laps had never been specified, they had just swam until they had exhausted themselves, though he definitely wanted to settle for something a little more definitive with Sonia. "For laps, how about we start with three? We can do best two out of three," He suggests. "As for what style, I'm okay to do freestyle, if you are! That or we could do front stroke! Hell, we could even mix it up with different styles after we have our drinks and come back to the pool!" Nodding confidently, he clutches onto the ledge, nodding with a smile at her wager. "Heh, sounds great to me, Sonia! You want to do the honor of counting us down?"

#electricea #Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic

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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Fiasco At The Wayne Gala

Author’s note: This story was written by DC Fanboy and proofread by Maribat fangirl, as a reaction to Style Queen. Maribat fangirl has been hard at work on Chapter 6 of “Hanging by a Thread”, while DC fanboy needed a break from the angst. This is the result, enjoy.

Content warning: A dash of Chloe salt, mostly Audrey managing to piss off everyone. Ships: Jason Todd / Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Dick Grayson / Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain / Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake / Bernard Dowd (mentioned), Bruce Wayne / Selina Kyle.

Fiasco at the Wayne Gala

Jason stood at the driveway to Wayne Manor, bored out of his mind as he waited for Marinette to arrive. Another Wayne Gala was underway, with Gotham’s elite pouring into Wayne Manor. Marinette said she would be arriving with her roommate, Zoe. He took out his phone and messaged his girlfriend asking where she was. He was interrupted from his thoughts when a rude woman cleared her throat in front of him. Jason was just able to look up from his phone before he was berated for not paying attention to her.

“You! Valet! How dare you play on your phone when you should be attending to us guests?” the woman screeched. Jason cringed and immediately placed his phone back into his pocket, just as he was about to argue with this banshee that he wasn’t a valet, he was rudely interrupted again with another screech. “How unprofessional! Notify Bruce Wayne that I, Audrey Bourgeois have arrived,” she waved her hand as if to shoo him away. “Now go and park the car before I fire you.” She tossed her keys to Jason, before promptly walking away with her chin held snobbishly high.

Jason looked down at the keys in his hands. He looked at the woman walking away and then towards her car, a jet black convertible. He walked around the vehicle, admiring the exquisite European sports car. A mischievous grin grew on his face as he looked back at the keys in his hand, he jumped in over the door into the car and started its engine. It roared to life, Jason couldn’t resist stamping both his feet on the accelerator and brakes at the same time. The tyres screeched from the friction, spewing smoke behind him. He then spun around, performing a doughnut around the driveway. He left behind a trail of black tyre markings on the asphalt below. Jason stomped his foot onto the accelerator, all the way to the bottom. The engine roared in response with an immediate burst of power, rocketing him out of Wayne Manor, speeding off into the distance.

Meanwhile, Dick waited for the cloakroom attendant to return. In his hands he held Barbara’s coat. Him being the gentleman that he was, he volunteered to bring it to the cloakroom for her. As he patiently waited at the counter, he heard a throat being cleared behind him. He chose to ignore it but then the voice grew louder. He elected to ignore it again, but the person behind him then shouted “You!”

Dick turned in surprise, he looked around to the source of the voice, a woman wearing a black, white and gold ball gown with a white fur coat in her arms. Beside her was, what he assumed to be, her daughter. She wore a matching dress and an entitled look on her face. He looked around, thinking and hoping she was trying to talk to someone else.

The woman then threw her coat at Dick, it draped over his head completely. He looked as if he was wearing an expensive ghost costume, as the coat hung over his head. The rude woman continued, “Now put this in the cloakroom, bring me the ticket when you are done and make sure nothing happens to it.” Dick didn’t say anything at that moment, he hadn’t fully registered what had just happened. “It is an expensive Arctic Fox coat, if anything were to happen to it I will make sure Mr. Wayne fires you.” She stomped off with her daughter in tow, the two walked past Barbara with Haley napping on her lap. The two scoff in disgust at the sight of the dog, “Disgusting, don't you think?” Audrey asked her daughter.

Chloe repeated the sentiment, “Absolutely, Mother.”

Audrey nodded towards her daughter in approval before turning back to face Barbara, “Now get that mangy, misshapen mutt out of here before we file a complaint and get that thing put down!” she threatened before walking away.

Haley whimpered from the scary lady’s yelling, Barbara’s eyes narrowed as her hands moved to cover Haley’s floppy ears, “Oh no you did not just threaten Haley.”

“Where did she go? I can’t see.” Dick asked, the coat still covering his head.

Tim stood near the food table, enjoying canapés and several other hors d'oeuvre while waiting for his date, Bernard, to arrive at the gala. A loud voice caught his attention mid bite, “Is that you Timothy? Oh it is you.” He looked up from his plate to see an obnoxious woman wearing sunglasses indoors, at night.

“Do you remember me? I’m your Aunt Audrey.” the woman spoke.

Tim cringed internally, remembering the woman from past events. A horrible woman if he remembered correctly, always sucking up to his parents, pretending to be their friend. Most of all he remembered the constant attempts at matchmaking, doing whatever she could to pawn her daughter off to the Drake family to gain their favour. He quickly swallowed the appetizer in his mouth and answered “Hello Aunt Audrey.” with a strained smile. His mind was in a flurry, trying to think of a plan to get rid of her.

“Oh how handsome you’ve grown, why don't you spend time with my daughter? I brought her here today.” she suggested, her voice devoid of any sincerity.

Tim slowly backed off, looking around the room hoping to think of a plan to get her to leave him alone. “Well...you see…” he tried to stall for time. He then spotted a familiar plume of blonde hair standing near the performing band and rushed towards her. “Steph! You gotta help me!” he croaked.

She turned in surprise, “Tim? You okay? What's wrong?”

“Pretend to be my date” he blurted out.

“What?” she cried incredulously, “No, I’m dating Cass. What would Bernard say?” she responded angrily.

“Please, I’m begging you. At least until this crazy woman leaves me alone,” Tim explained, “she’s been trying to hook me up with her daughter for years.” Tim grabbed on to her arms and gave her a shake.

“What is this, some kind of fake dating storyline? Did I wake up in one of your K-Dramas?” She answered in a voice dripping with sarcasm. She then peered over his shoulder to see two women in hot pursuit, shoving guests aside. She was already feeling her mood sour from their presence.

“You owe me for this, understand?” Stephanie said, her fingers jabbed Tim in the chest before she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Thanks, I’ll pay you back some day.” Tim then held out his elbow for Stephanie, which she held on to.

Tim and Steph slowly walked up to Audrey, “Aunt Audrey, I’d like to meet my girlfriend Stephanie Brown.” He gestures towards his friend. Stephanie then kissed Tim in the cheek, trying her absolute best to not show just how irritated she was at the whole situation.

Audrey’s eyes twitched at the sight, but it was unnoticeable under her sunglasses. “Nice to meet you too Stephanie.” she greeted, venom dripping from her voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I will attend to other guests. It was nice meeting you again Timothy.” She then stomped away with Chloe in tow.

The two then breathed a sigh of relief as they were left alone, “I need a drink” groaned Stephanie, as she held onto her forehead. “I just hope that Cass didn't see....that.” She turned around to see Cassandra Cain right behind the two, a frown on her face.

Both Tim and Steph both held up their hands, attempting to placate the girl in front of them. “Tim needed a fake date to get rid of a crazy old hag.” explained Steph, as quickly and concisely as she could. Stephanie gave Tim the evil eye, thinking of all the ways she would hurt him if his fiasco cost her her relationship with Cass.

Cass spun her finger on the side of her head. Tim and Steph released a breath they both had been holding, worried of what Cass’ reaction would be. Fortunately for them, Cass was able to see the whole thing. From watching Tim’s desperate plea, to the subtle signs of discomfort as the two spoke to Ms. Bourgeois.

Damian clung to the edges of the party, he detested these events. However, as the son of Gotham’s Billionaire he had no choice but to attend. He wandered around, hands in his pockets, he hoped he could find a familiar face in a sea of strangers. Perhaps Gordon or Grayson would let him pet Haley, it would at least help pass the time better.

For someone unaware of who he was, one could possibly mistake him for a delinquent. Then again, he was the grandson of the Demon. He spotted the dog on Gordon's lap, and made his way towards her. He was then intercepted by a raging woman pointing her finger at him and calling him a trespasser and an intruder.

The gall of this woman, he clenched his teeth and yelled back. "Shut up you hag, I live here!"

The woman expressed a loud gasp, "How dare you call me that? Do you know who I am? I am Audrey Bourgeois, director of Style Queen."

Damian rolled his eyes, "What? A magazine giving fashion advice to shriveled old hags like you?" he shot back.

Audrey Bourgeois snapped, she yelled at the boy at the top of the voice "How dare you!"

Damian shouted back "How dare YOU! Do you know who I am?"

Their shouting match had drawn the entire attention of the ball room, eyes drawn to the argument unraveling before them. Tim and Dick walked closer, hoping to get a clear view of what was happening, and to intervene if necessary. Who knows what would happen with Damian around?

Alfred ignored the chaos unraveling around him as he pushed a food trolley through the ball room. However, a young woman with blonde hair rushed in front of his trolley. "May I help you?" He asked.

"My mother is being harassed by some miscreant, go get rid of him." Chloe growled towards the butler.

"Very well." Alfred complied and began walking to the two shouting their lungs off.

Damian spots the two former Robins approaching and calls out to them, "Grayson, Drake, tell her who I am and get rid of her."

Both Tim and Dick narrowed their eyes, annoyed about how all attention was now on the two of them. The two looked at each other, annoyed at their younger sibling.

Tim had a plan to redirect that attention and knock Hell Spawn down a peg, "Who are you?" he asked.

This infuriated Damian, he roared "Traitor!" and was about to throw fists at Tim before Alfred stepped in between them.

"Please, let us all calm down and enjoy this fine evening." Alfred attempted to calm the entire situation.

"Not until you get rid of him!" Audrey yelled, pointing her finger accusingly at Damian.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Madam." Alfred deadpanned.

Audrey stomped her foot in anger, then she pointed threateningly at Alfred. "You're fired!" she yelled.

Alfred sighs and answers in a monotone voice "Madam, with all due respect, I don't work for you. I work for Master Wayne, and in turn I also work for the young Master Wayne." He gestured to Damian, who stood there angrily with his arms crossed.

Audrey Bourgeois recoiled in shock, she attempted to come up with a retort. Alfred continued, "As per the young master's wishes, please leave the premises immediately."

Audrey gritted her teeth, "Fine. Call the valet to bring my car over." She commanded before marching off.

Alfred and Damian looked at each other, intrigued at the request for a valet. "Pennyworth, we don't have a valet for this evening, do we?" asked Damian.

"No Master Damian, though I suspect we may have a case of grand theft auto on our hands. I shall go check the cameras for our culprit.” Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and left for the Batcave.

Marinette and Zoe stood near a window. Marinette was worried, Jason was supposed to be at the party. He did not answer any of her calls or reply to any of her messages. She paced about, worried Jason was away dealing with an emergency.

Zoe on the other hand was red with embarrassment and shame. She was unfortunately related to the two wrecking balls tearing their way through the gala. She hoped to any and every deity above that they would prevent her mother from noticing her. However, this was to no avail as Zoe was spun around forcefully.

"...Zoe! Why did you not greet your dear mother?" Yelled Audrey.

Zoe began sweating bullets trying to think of an answer while being berated by her mother and half-sister. "I-I uh, I just got here." She shakily attempted to explain herself.

"What are you doing here Marinette?" Growled Chloe, annoyed at how such a clumsy girl would be even invited to this event.

Marinette put the phone back into her purse, "I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend, but I can't find him and he won't answer the phone."

Chloe laughed at the girl's plight, "Who would even date a loser like you? Any sane person would leave you."

Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, much to Chloe’s delight. Her contained rage and shame were interrupted as Audrey began complaining about a valet.

"Where is my car? Where is that damn stupid valet?" Audrey shouted.

Zoe and Marinette looked at each other, confused at the mention of a valet. "There was a valet?" Marinette asked nervously.

"Of course there was." Audrey told her.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous," ranted Chloe, "He did not even dress properly and now he can't even deliver mother's car. Where is the idiot with the white streak of hair?"

Marinette and Zoe raised an eyebrow at the specific mention of a white streak of hair.

"At least it explains what Jason is up to." Marinette thought to herself, "They won't be getting the car back for a while, if at all."

Alfred had reviewed footage of the driveway earlier that evening, and had discovered Jason was the culprit. Alfred sighed as he picked up the telephone and attempted to call Jason. Just like Marinette, Jason was not answering his calls. Alfred then contacted Jason through his Bat Communicator.

"What's the emergency, Alfred?" Answered Jason.

Alfred could hear the sound of a roaring engine and wind whipping through the air over the communicator. "Master Todd, you are the emergency. Please return the automobile to the manor.

"Alright, I will if you bake me two dozen cookies. Just for me and no one else." Negotiated Jason.

"Very well, Master Todd." agreed Alfred "Now please return the vehicle." Alfred closed the call and made his way to the ballroom.

Jason turned the steering wheel of the car harshly, sending it to a tight drift, making a turn back towards Wayne Manor. "Alright you two, we're getting cookies!" he yelled to his passengers beside him.

"Yaaaaay" cheered Roy along with Lian on his lap.

Back in the ballroom, Alfred asked the guests to quiet down for he was making an announcement. "Esteemed guests, allow me to introduce Bruce Wayne.'' He stepped aside and gestured to Bruce atop the stairs with Selena Kyle. The two slowly walked down the stairs, and thanked each of their guests for attending the gala.

Audrey Bourgeois pushed past several attendees to get a closer look. Other guests gave her space, not wanting to incur her wrath. As she reached Bruce Wayne, she shoved Selena aside and wrapped herself around Bruce's arm. Taking extra attention to make sure her chest rubbed against his arm.

Zoe sped to the bathroom in absolute shame after watching her mother attempt to flirt with Bruce Wayne. Marinette remained by the window, waiting for Jason’s return. She was then approached by Alfred, holding a small basket of fresh cookies. “Good evening Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I just spoke to Master Todd, he is on his way.”

Marinette glanced at Audrey Bourgeois still attempting to flirt with Bruce, “the sooner he gets here the sooner she leaves.” she comments. She notices the cookies in the basket. “Can I have a cookie?” she asked, salivating at Alfred’s baking. Tikki peeked out from her small bag, enticed by the smell of the cookies.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Master Todd, I made these in order to entice him to return the car. Undamaged, I hope.” Alfred explains.

Fortunately Jason arrived at that moment, with Roy and Lian in tow, their hairs were messy from the wind. Alfred gave Marinette the basket of cookies and asked her to give them to Jason while he notified Ms. Bourgeois that her car had arrived. “Jason, where have you been? I've been trying to call you all night!” Marinette yelled.

Jason scratched the back of his head, “about that, some crazy lady thought I was a valet.”

Marinette crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “I heard. But that doesn't mean you can take her car.” she huffed.

“ ‘Sup Little Wing,” Dick greeted Jason, “heard about your joyride from Alfred. How was it?”

“Awesome,” Jason replied, reaching into the basket of cookies. Roy, Lian and Tikki were already enjoying their share.

“Now that you’re back, that crazy woman can now go.” Dick said

“What did she do?” asked Jason curiously, hoping there would be a good story.

“For starters, she thought I was the cloakroom attendant. She threw her coat over my face, she pissed Babs off by calling Haley a ‘Misshapen Mutt’. Then she tried to hook her daughter up with Tim. On top of that, she managed to royally piss off Damian.” Explained Dick.

Jason’s jaw dropped while chewing his cookie, a few crumbs landing on the floor. Before doing a spit-take with the cookie in his mouth, he burst out laughing.

Meanwhile Alfred walked up to Audrey Bourgeois, who was still clinging onto Bruce Wayne as if her life depended on it. “Ahem, Madam Bourgeois, your automobile has arrived. Please kindly leave the premises.” interrupted Alfred.

“Come now, Brucie Darling. Are you really going to send me away after all we have been through?” Audrey asked coyly.

Bruce took a deep breath, “Ms. Bourgeois, please leave. As you can see my date, Ms. Kyle, has been very patient with you.” He points with his thumb behind him towards a glaring Selena.

Audrey growled loudly, “Fine, we are leaving.” She stomped out the front door. “You, Valet! What took you so long?” she demanded an explanation from Jason.

Jason spoke to her with his mouth full, spewing crumbs everywhere. “Having dinner, what's it to you?”

Audrey and Chloe recoiled at Jason’s bad manners, as a force of habit Audrey yelled back “I’ll have you fired for this.”

Jason continued undeterred, still answering with his mouth full of cookies. “Well shit, too bad.”

Frustrated at his aloof response, the two quickly got into the car and drove off. Everyone but the two Bourgeois noticed a large scratch and several dents along the side of the sports car as it drove away. “Yeah, uh, forget you saw that. Let’s get back to the party shall we?” suggested Jason. Everyone laughed hysterically at the wild night, now that the human wrecking ball had left.

As Marinette walked back into the manor, she pouted at Jason for keeping her waiting. “Come on now Pixie, are you still mad at me?” Jason asked.

“Yes, you stole someone’s car, drove off to who knows where. You didn’t answer any of my messages or calls. I was really looking forward to enjoying the Gala with you.” Marinette complained.

Jason ran in front of Marinette, stopping her in her tracks. “Look I’ll make it up to you Pixie, I promise. How about a dance then? The night is still young.” Jason said, offering his hand to Marinette.

Marinette contemplates for a moment before reaching out to hold his hand. “Fine, but this doesn’t mean I forgive you yet.”

The two then walked to the centre of the ballroom and danced the night away.

#jasonette #maribat chloe salt #maribat #ml x dc #dc x ml

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gaeilgeoirgay · 3 years ago

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My laptop died and I hate making online posts on my phone, so the app will do. I’ll fix the post tomorrow once my laptop gets charged

Anyways, here’s day five of Spideytorch! I used the general theme of New York for this one

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34211572

@spideytorchweek

Cass is 90% that the three men who’ve been behind her for the last three blocks are about to jump her. She has pretty good hearing and the way they’ve been talking about her for the at least fifteen minutes is a good indicator of what they want.

She’s not near any busy intersections and this part of New York was built before the city started getting crowded and they had to maximise space so there are a lot of alleyways.

She’s taken self-defense classes before of course, most New Yorker women have, but Cass isn’t too confident about taking on three men at the same time. All of the classes had emphasised getting away rather than defeating your attacker but if they surround her she might not be able to run.

:readmore:

Cass debates pulling out her phone and faking a phone call but that’ll take time and it would distract her enough that the men might attack. On the other hand, if there’s a possibility they might be overheard, they may decide to leave her alone.

Cass is about to take out the phone anyways when she hears bickering from above her.

She looks up and there’s two red and blue clad legs dangling over the edge of the building and flames rising gently from it. She panics at the thought of fire for a second before she realises who it must be.

“Oh come on, Torchy! That’s it, I’m getting a neutral arbitrator.” Comes a voice before the legs transform into a full body, that of Queen’s favourite hero. The men behind her slow a little as Spider-Man drops to the ground in front of her, the Human Torch following suit.

“Fair lady! Please tell my idiot boyfriend that pineapple does not belong on pizza.” Spider-Man says emphatically and Cass stares at him for a second. The Human Torch groans and puts his head in his hands.

“It does belong!”

Cass laughs despite herself and considers her answer carefully. “I don’t eat pizza that often, but yeah, I agree with Spidey. It just doesn’t fit with the pizza aesthetic, you know?” She says and the Human Torch collapses dramatically against the wall.

“Betrayed by the very citizens of my home!” He wails and the expressive eyes of the Spider-Man mask roll incredibly obviously. “It’s my home too idiot. And of course, said citizens agree! It doesn’t belong!” He says exasperatedly.

The three men behind her finally make a move to pass her out and one tries to cop a feel as they go. His hand is caught by Spider-Man as the Human Torch straightens up and glares at him.

“Try that again and I’ll break your wrist.” Spidey says simply and the man gulps. He nods hurriedly and runs off as soon as Spider-Man lets go. Then the hero turns to Cass, all trace of threat gone from his posture.

“I could hear what they were saying, enhanced hearing and all. It must’ve been horrible to have that directed at you. Do you want us to walk you home? Or wherever really, if you don’t want anyone knowing where you live?” Spider-Man says sincerely and Cass raises her eyebrows, slightly taken aback.

“It’s not a bother, honestly. We just want to make sure you end up somewhere safe.” The Human Torch says, smiling earnestly at her, maybe sensing her hesitation. That cements her decision.

“There’s a café about two blocks from here where one of my friends works. He’ll probably bring me home but I, uh, wouldn’t mind an escort there.” She says and Torch beams. He bounces upright and takes a place on her left while Spidey stands at her right.

“Lead the way, fair lady!” He says, bowing, and she smiles. “Cass is fine.” She tells him, liking the odd duo. Spider-Man nods solemnly as if her name is some top-secret information that he has to keep safe

“Now, where were we? Right, pizza. What do you have against pineapple, Webs?! It’s a perfectly good fruit!” Torch says indignantly and Spider-Man sighs loudly.

“Because! There are certain things you put on a pizza and pineapple is not one of them! You eat pineapple at, like, a beach or something. Pizza is weekend takeaway at eleven PM, made with meat and cheese and bread, like a medieval peasant but fancy. A pineapple is not a simple workmans food, Johnny!” Spider-Man retorts and funnily enough, it makes sense to Cass.

He’s right about the medieval peasant but fancy bit, she supposes. Where do pineapples come from again? She thinks it might be South America. European peasants probably would’ve never come across one, but bread and cheese and meat would’ve been their main meals.

“And besides, a pineapple is technically a berry not a fruit!” Spider-Man says, snapping Cass out of her thoughts. It is? You learn something new everyday, she guesses. They turn the corner and Adam’s café is right where it always is.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me being healthy, Spidey.” Torch pouts and Cass giggles. Spider-Man smirks victoriously, somehow making it visible through the mask. He’s definitely won the argument in Cass’s book.

The two heroes drop her off with Adam, who looks starstruck at their appearance. She’s so gonna tease him about that later, but for now, she’s gotta tell someone about the bizarre conversation that Spidey and Torch had been having.

Peter and Johnny share a smile as the woman greets her friend, who barely manages to wave at the two of of them. They wave back of course and his face goes bright red.

“I’m glad she got here safe.” Johnny says. “Even if she has awful opinions on pizza.” He continues and Peter snorts.

“You mean sane rational opinions right? Anyways, everything we do has an impact. I hope we made a good one for her.” Peter muses and Johnny smiles. He wraps an arm around Leter and tilts his head towards his own.

Johnny plants a light kiss over the mask before drawing back. “I think we did. And even if we didn’t, it’s nice to talk to the people. It reminds me of why we do this.” He says and Peter hums in agreement.

“If you ever need a reminder, just ask. We’ve come a long way since we started and people like us now. Won’t be hard to find a conversation. We just have to listen.”

#spideytorch week 2021 #spideytorch #peter parker #johnny storm

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what-you-getting-into · 3 years ago

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I couldn't get the UEFA lgbtq+ thing out of my head today and realized I can't help but take it personally as someone who loves football and knows what it's like growing up queer in a homophobic eastern european country. I remember my first pride, it was a large number of neo-nazis throwing gas grenades at the few of us while the police watched, smiling and after that my cousin got followed and held over the edge of a bridge and threatened to get killed. I guess the homophobia would be easier to swallow if it was just pure hate, but it was always packaged as a love for country, traditional family and most of all god.

Does UEFA realize how offensive it is, writing status with rainbows and equality hashtags, but when it comes to actually taking a stand or doing something positive, they clearly take the side of the abusive government while saying they are doing it to NOT get political?

I sincerely hope that this will at least stir up a debate and make people turn up to matches with rainbow flags to show some support to those who get none where they live.

#uefa #euro 2020 #lgbtq #manuel neuer #germany nt #hungary nt

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sailorgreywolf-legacy · 4 years ago

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"i don't think i can let go" ale and max please :]

Mexico was holding back and watching the couples dance. It had been so long since he had been to a European ball, and it was amazing to him that Maximilian had been able to make an appropriate ballroom in Chapultepec.

He was contemplating the emperor from across the room, trying not to make it obvious that he was looking. It had been a month since he had accepted the title, and Mexico was not entirely used to his presence.

Maximilian’s figure was hard to make sense of for him. The times that they had spoken had left Mexico more deeply conflicted than he anticipated. When France had said that he was going to have an Austrian archduke as an emperor, Mexico had anticipated someone like Roderich himself. He had expected someone who was haughty and cold.

He had not guessed that he would end up with someone who was warm and who talked enthusiastically about reform and liberal monarchy. If he could have chosen a man to be his monarch, he would have chosen one like Maximilian.

As the song started to fade, Mexico found himself again thinking very hard to find something he disliked about the man. He had to dislike the emperor, since he had promised Juarez that he would support the republic. Somewhere under the handsome face and the kind manners there had to be something condescending that he could hate. Nearly every European he had met had that same frustrating edge of disdain, and if he found one in Maximilian, he would be able to comfortably fill his role as Juarez’s informer.

In the lull between songs, he noticed that the emperor took his leave of Carlota. Curious, he thought, that he’d have something to do that did not involve his wife.

Then he realized that Maximilian was coming towards him. Mexico drew in a breath, and tried to steel himself to deal with the man. He reminded himself that he had to be pleasant, but guarded.

As Maximilian stopped in front of him with a smile, Mexico said, “Do you need something from me, You Majesty?”

For a moment he thought that there might be some crisis that he was not aware of. But, the emperor had a kind smile on lips that did not have the urgency of crisis. Instead Maximilian extended a hand to him as another song started and said, “Will you dance with me, Alexander?”

Mexico could not think of a reason to say no, though the concept made him feel an anxious fluttering in his stomach. Under the firm gaze, he said, “Very well.”

He took the hand and let his emperor lead him into the middle of the dance floor. From the very beginning notes, he guessed that the dance would be a Viennese waltz. It was one of the few dances he had never learned in court.

He looked up at Maximilian and said, “I don’t know how to waltz.” The emperor responded, “Do not worry. I will lead you.”

Mexico felt a hand pressed against the small of his lower back as the emperor pulled him into a closed position to dance. His ears felt hot as he realized how warm and firm Maximilian’s hands were. It felt like a loving hold, and that thought scared him.

He glanced up at the emperor and caught something like love in the blue eyes. He glanced away again, terrified of what that gaze could do if he looked too long.

As they started the dance, it was not difficult to understand the rhythm of the music or to follow the emperor’s lead. In the midst of the dance, Maximilian said, quietly enough that only Mexico could hear him, “Alexander, I wanted to tell you something.”

He was speaking French, but it was impossible not to hear the sweet tenor of his accent. Mexico looked up at him, and was immediately caught in the comfort of his gaze. He replied, “What is it?”

It must be something special if Maximilian had sought out a way to be alone with him to say it. His cheeks were getting hot too, and he was not entirely sure why. Maximilian replied, calmly and confidently, “I want you to know that I’m here for you. I will defend your interests. Not Austria, not France, just you. I accepted your throne, and now I am yours."

Mexico tried to come up with words to respond. He was glad that he had good rhythm and the ability to follow the steps of the dance. If he had to think about it he would certainly stumble or step on the emperor’s foot. Either would have betrayed his nerves.

His first thought was that he was glad that France could not hear the words. If he had, he might withdraw his support in a way that would allow Juarez to return. He did not want to think about what might happen then.

He ignored all of the thoughts and instead said, “Thank you for that. You have been very kind to me so far.”

He realized a moment after he stopped speaking that he should have added the address. He opened his mouth to add it, and the emperor cut him off before he could, “You may call me Max. You don’t have to say ‘Your Highness’ when we’re alone.”

Mexico felt his heart skip a beat. He hadn’t at all expected to feel this way about a man he had only met a month ago. He cursed his own heart for being so easily impressed by a kind smile and beautiful eyes.

But, he did have to answer or risk being rude. He took another breath, and said, “I’m out of practice having an emperor. I don’t remember all the formalities.”

He could have sworn that Maximilian pulled him closer as he said, “We have time for you to get used to me. I am not asking anything of you yet.”

Mexico was not sure what the feeling was that was welling up in his chest, but he tried to think that he was only imagining. He could not allow himself to even entertain those feelings for a moment.

Maximilian expertly lead him through the steps and Mexico tried not to think too deeply about anything but the moment. He said, completely sincere, “I am glad that you’re here.” The other smiled again and said, “I am too.”

The music began to fade, and Mexico knew that he should let go and let Maximilian return to his wife. But he liked the feeling of being held. The emperor prompted him, “The song is over.”

Mexico responded, without fully thinking through what he was saying, “I know. I just don't think I can let go yet.”

He fully expected to be told that he was clinging to tightly, and he prepared himself to hear it. Instead, Maximilian did not release his hold and said, “Will you stay with me for one more song?”

Mexico nodded, though he had the slightest sinking feeling that he was doing something he should not.

#its frustrating how long its been since I posted writing #anyway here's something hopefully fluffy enough

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