#that woman is every Karen who ever lived only she has way more power than the average Karen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iamalasagnagirl · 7 months ago

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PART 2 OF WLW BOOKS PLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, let's see, I'll start with two of my new fav books ever, both written by Debra Flores:

1. One Day You'll Leave Me

Karen is an ordinary woman living an ordinary life in the year 2010. Until the day she hears an unfamiliar song that moves her in a way she cannot understand or explain.

Judy Paige was also an ordinary young woman, who lived an ordinary life, up until the day she sang one of her songs at a show in the year 1964.

When Karen's curiosity about the song turns into an obsession about the woman who sang it, she's drawn to the town in which Judy Paige was born and raised.

It's there that Karen is approached by a man who asks Karen a simple question. "Would you like to meet her?" The question is simple, but the answer is not.

2. The Library by the River

It was an ordinary day in March of 1985, the day Beth walked in to a library and met Sarah, the woman that would change her life forever.

At a time when the AIDS epidemic was well underway, when society still labeled homosexuality as an illness, something to be hidden away, whispered about, but not talked about aloud, there were certainly obstacles in their way.

Even so, obstacles or not, Beth is twenty and Sarah is twenty-eight, they're young, and in love, they can handle whatever comes their way. Or so they think. The one thing they may not be able to overcome is Kim. Beth's jealous best friend. She doesn't see Sarah the way Beth does, far from it, she sees her as nothing more than a problem that needs to be taken care of. An impediment to the relationship she knows she and Beth are meant to have. Volatile and hot-headed, yes, but is Kim actually capable of tearing them apart? And at what cost?

Kiss of Seduction by Rawnie Sabor

Evie is trapped. Held captive by the vampiric Court of Night, she has experienced nothing but pain and terror for over a year.

Natalya is the second-in-command of the Chicago-based Court of Chains. She is among a succubus. A being of pure Sin, whose touch is agony and whose kiss is a death sentence.

This book is an emotionally charged, sapphic love story of healing through trauma, reclaiming yourself after tragedy, and trusting another to catch you when you fall.

Meet me in Berlin by Samantha L. Valentine

"If we lose each other, then we’ll come back to this spot, on this day, at this time, every year until we find each other."

But how do you find someone from the other side of the world when you only know their first name, and the only plan you made to reunite was to meet in a Berlin park in late August at 6 pm, eleven years ago?

The Ride of Her Life by Jennifer Dugan

Molly dreams of starting her own wedding planning company when she inherits a run-down, struggling horse barn, courtesy of her late aunt.

But maybe — if she can sell the land, the profits could be the small-business seed money miracle she’s been waiting for.

The real snag in her plan is Shani. Judgmental, grouchy Shani, who thinks she’s so morally superior because she hasn’t given up on the crumbling barn while Molly wants to “destroy” everything her aunt built; who’s really good with the horses, and always comes whenever Molly calls her in a panic; and is actually kind of thoughtful, and obnoxiously hot, and has Shani become an entirely different kind of problem? One Molly can’t possibly solve, no matter how much her heart wants to?

For Love or Scandal by J.J. Arias

Laney Menendez, a once-celebrated Hollywood director, has a chance at a comeback. The catch? She must first marry her brother’s soap-star boyfriend to stop him from being outed by a tabloid.

For Laney, the lavish fake wedding is meant to be all business, until she meets the wedding planner, Jennifer Acosta.

Their attraction is instant and undeniable. As Laney and Jennifer work closely planning the wedding, stolen moments stoke the flames of a passion too powerful to resist.

Immerse yourself in this steamy tale where fantasy and reality entwine. Love makes its own rules, and for Laney and Jennifer, the fake wedding of the year may just be the start of something real.

Before You Were Mine by Heidi Lowe

After the intercity bus she's traveling on crashes into a bridge, Abigail wakes up in a hospital in Utah with no memory of who she is.

Unsure of when, or even if, her memory will return, she settles into her new life in Oakwood, where she meets Tiffany, a nurse she befriends while hospitalized. Abby knows it would be unwise to get involved with someone while her past is still a blur, so she tries to ignore her growing feelings for the beautiful woman. But as the two grow closer, and things get serious between them, Abby is finally ready to put her unknown past to bed... Which might be a problem for James, her husband of two years.

Graceless by Ruby Landers (book Two of the Grace Notes Trilogy)

Savannah Grace is on top of the world when her younger sister Cassidy shows up on her doorstep with one plan and one plan only: for her sister to turn her into a star.

Savannah’s nanny Lane has grown all the way up, from a cute punk kid to a classic handsome heartbreaker, a long trail of short flings in their wake. They don’t have a second to waste on Cassidy, after all she’s rude, ignorant, hot-tempered and kind of a brat. It’s just… does their boss’s little sister have to be so hot? Of course things could always get worse.

Of course, Sarah Waters' books:

1. Fingersmith

Sue Trinder is an orphan, left as an infant in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, a "baby farmer," who raised her with unusual tenderness, as if Sue were her own.

Mrs. Sucksby’s household, with its fussy babies calmed with doses of gin, also hosts a transient family of petty thieves—fingersmiths—for whom this house in the heart of a mean London slum is home.

One day, the most beloved thief of all arrives—Gentleman carries with him an enticing proposition for Sue: If she wins a position as the maid to Maud Lilly, a naïve gentlewoman, and aids Gentleman in her seduction, then they will all share in Maud’s vast inheritance. Once the inheritance is secured, Maud will be disposed of—passed off as mad, and made to live out the rest of her days in a lunatic asylum.

With dreams of paying back the kindness of her adopted family, Sue agrees to the plan. Once in, however, Sue begins to pity her helpless mark and care for Maud Lilly in unexpected ways...But no one and nothing is as it seems in this Dickensian novel of thrills and reversals.

2. The paying guests

It is 1922 and in South London, in a genteel Camberwell villa—a large, silent house now bereft of brothers, husband, and even servants—life is about to be transformed, as impoverished widow Mrs. Wray and her spinster daughter, Frances, are obliged to take in lodgers.

With the arrival of Lilian and Leonard Barber, a modern young couple of the “clerk class,” the routines of the house will be shaken up in unexpected ways. Little do the Wrays know just how profoundly their new tenants will alter the course of Frances’s life—or, as passions mount and frustration gathers, how far-reaching, and how devastating, the disturbances will be

3. Affinity

An upper-class woman recovering from a suicide attempt, Margaret Prior has begun visiting the women’s ward of Millbank prison as part of her rehabilitative charity work. Amongst Millbank’s murderers and common thieves, Margaret finds herself increasingly fascinated by an apparently innocent inmate, the enigmatic spiritualist Selina Dawes. Selina was imprisoned after a séance she was conducting went horribly awry, leaving an elderly matron dead and a young woman deeply disturbed.

Margaret is soon drawn into a twilight world of ghosts and shadows, unruly spirits and unseemly passions, until she is at last driven to concoct a desperate plot to secure Selina’s freedom, and her own.

4. Tipping the velvet

Nan King is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act.

At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins.

Turbulence by E. J. Noyes

Stockbroker Isabelle Rhodes has a lot of money, a lot of trust issues, and a whole lot of reasons to believe her ex-girlfriend was right when she said that Isabelle sucked at relationships. With that accusation stuck in her head, Isabelle throws caution to the wind and dives into her first one-night stand. Checking that off her bucket list should be something to celebrate—except it turns out that the woman she just spent an earth-shattering night with is actually her newly hired company pilot, Audrey Graham.

Concerned about the stigma of workplace dalliances, Isabelle vows it can’t go further than the one night. Good plan—if not for an insistent libido and an even more persistent Audrey who conspires to break Isabelle’s resolve. Soon their no strings arrangement starts to feel a lot like dating, and Isabelle finds herself wanting more than just casual nights together

Fear Of Falling by Georgia Beers

Since she was fourteen, singer Sophie James has been an international superstar. With her career (and life) directed by her manager, Ray, she hasn’t had to worry about a thing for more than a decade. But when Ray has a heart attack, Sophie is left without the only real father figure she’s ever known and questioning everything she believes about what’s important to her.

Enter Dana Landon, the new manager sent by Sophie’s record company. Dana is gorgeous, sophisticated, and ready to do her job keeping Sophie’s career on track and making the record company money. Dana captures Sophie’s attention in ways Sophie never expected--and isn't ready for, but after so many years of being told what to do, Sophie’s ready to shake things up with some ideas of her own.

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hellsinvestigativereporter · 12 days ago

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It has come to my attention that there are those amongst my readers who apparently think my assessment of the doomed relationship that is "Stolitz" is a foolish take. Well... I for one do not shy away from public discourse so let us assess what we know:

First off Let us address the two giant pink elephants in the room reading hamlet shall we?

First we have Blitz, a man who as we all know spent most of his life with a very down trodden version of what can be best described as a Napoleon complex and has gone from thinking everyone hates him to suddenly becoming the toast of the town.

And then we have Stolas, a man who was forced to marry a woman so vile she gives Professor Umbridge a run for her money as the worst karen in history, and has now lost everything because he's so unskilled at being himself I dont think he even has a self to speak of outside of his relationship fantasies of him and Blitz.

And now after all the grief and drama and intensity is over with and things have calmed down they are finally at last together living in the same home. And that is why the relationship is doomed. It was not built on a foundation of stable healthy interactions and mutual respect that was built slowly over time between equals, it was an all of a sudden torrent of BDSM and manslaughter with high running emotional drama and toxic power dynamics everytime they were in a room together. The only thing Stolas knows about love is what he learned from romance novels and spanish soap operas which as we all know is giant romantic gestures and high passion sexual fantasies written by people just as ignorant about relationships as Stolas is. So the horney leading the horney you see.

These things do not a relationship make. Its exhausting to have to constantly do high energy activities like that and if that's all the relationship is it will not survive the quiet mundane routine of simple every day life. And Stolas has never once had a calm mundane day in his life. He's lived a stressful life that probably had his adrenaline constantly pounding through him in a negative way and the moment Blitz came into the picture it went from bad to good and he did not want to turn that good switch off. There is no neutrality in Stolas' life and he's officially crashed and burned now with nothing to show for anything he went through, save his relationship with a man who until recently highly resented him unbeknownst to stolas.

What's worse is he hurt Octavia by 100% confirming that between his life with her and his relationship with Blitz, Blitz is the thing he would run off and give his life for without a second thought meanwhile he forgot about the promise he made to Octavia because his relationship status commanded more of his attention than his own child did.

And then of course there's Blitz and suddenly becoming everyone's hero. The imp who henches for no one but himself. Who was willing to sacrifice himself for his friends. Who was used and abused by the wealthy and powerful but still managed to come out on top. With many people not realizing just how much of a cretin he really is.

He broke into stolas' library to steal something that was not his and probably did not think about how he was going to have to hide it later. He sabotaged every relationship he ever had like Ernest Hemingway did because he refused to be the Dumpee, opting to always be in control by being the dumper, focuses on himself a bit too much when it comes to shared trauma like with Fizz, adopted loona to cure his self inflicted loneliness and also had a very creepy obsession with Mille and Moxie's relationship and probably tried to strike up a relationship with her but she decided she loved moxie more, not that that stopped Blitz from having fantasies anyway. And I'm going to say it, he may be the father of Millie's child. Probably went on a bender with millie and in a moment of inebriation and missing inhibitions during his breakup period with stolas, did something unfortunate because that is sadly Blitz's default setting. How terrible would that be to Loona? To finally feel good about calling him dad only to suddenly realize he may be about to have an actual blood related child and replace her? Cause she clearly has abandonment issues as well. But that's another topic for another day.

So on the one hand we have an emotionally stunted aristocrat whose used to having wealth and luxury to cope with his issues who now has to trade in his mansion and caviar for a cramped one room apartment and who also lost his daughter, and a self absorbed narcissist whose getting the positive attention he's always craved from the public and will no doubt let it go to his head in the other, I ask you dear readers, what conclusions would you draw?

#helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #blitzø #stolas #octavia #stella

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ukrfeminism · 2 years ago

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10 minute read

In early January 2012, Karen Ingala Smith was at the airport returning from holiday when she took a call from a colleague. She heard that a desperate young woman who’d sought help from Nia, the women’s refuge charity Ingala Smith runs, had just been murdered. Once back home, Ingala Smith opened her laptop to find out more.

Searching Google for “woman’s body found”, she soon discovered Nia’s client Kirsty Treloar, 20, the mother of a month-old baby who’d been abducted from her family home in Hackney, east London, by her boyfriend, Myles Williams, from whom she’d recently fled. Stabbing Kirsty’s brother and sister as they tried to stop him, Williams bundled her into his car. Later her body was found two miles away, dumped behind a wheelie bin, with 29 knife wounds.

But this online search yielded other results, so Ingala Smith read on. That same day in Co Durham, Susan McGoldrick, along with her sister Alison Turnbull and niece Tanya, were shot dead by her partner, Michael Atherton. Meanwhile in Nuneaton, nightclub bouncer Aaron Mann had beaten his girlfriend, Claire O’Connor, then smothered her with a pillow. The next day in Shropshire, a retired teacher, Betty Yates, 77, was beaten with her walking stick and stabbed to death by a drifter, Stephen Farrow. On January 3 in Buckinghamshire, Marie McGrory was strangled with a dog lead by her husband, John; in South Lanarkshire Kathleen Milward, 87, was bludgeoned to death by her grandson, Garry Kane.

Through her work, Ingala Smith was grimly familiar with such killings. But this deluge of cases appalled her. Eight British women had been murdered by men – all except one a partner or family member – in the first week of 2012. Each brutal murder, illustrated with a smiling holiday snap, was reported as neutrally as the weather: men killing their womenfolk was “just one of those things”.

“Perhaps because it was the start of the year,” says Ingala Smith. “I made a list of the names, as that’s the easiest way to tell one case from another. And then I never stopped.”

She began trawling local newspaper and police websites, creating an ExCel spreadsheet which she’d update as cases came to court.

It was an upsetting task, which Ingala Smith learnt to avoid just before bedtime. Her data collection method was crude but, until this year, the Office for National Statistics (ONS) only published figures for the sex of victims, not their killers, making female victims of male violence hard to quantify. As her list lengthened Ingala Smith created a Counting Dead Women Twitter account, posting each killing. This attracted public attention and a philanthropist who awarded her a grant to hire part-time staff. Now she could analyse murder trends and since 2015 has published the Femicide Census.

But what mattered most to Ingala Smith were women’s names, not numbers. So in 2016 she was delighted when the Labour MP Jess Phillips – who’d previously worked for Women’s Aid – asked to read them out on International Women’s Day. Now this roll call of more than 120 stolen lives, recited to a hushed House of Commons, has become an annual commemoration. “Dead women is a thing we’ve all just accepted as part of our daily lives,” Phillips said last year, when among the names was Sarah Everard. The list not only put male violence in the national spotlight but, says Ingala Smith, “Family after family have said how important it is to hear their loved one’s name read out in parliament, and know it is recorded in Hansard for ever.”

Now Ingala Smith, 54, has written a book, Defending Women’s Spaces, drawing upon more than 30 years of working with vulnerable women who are homeless or fleeing domestic abuse. After witnessing the power of female-only services she is alarmed by moves to make “gender identity” rather than sex the criteria for admission to refuges and rape survivor groups. She points out that 98 per cent of rapes and 90 per cent of violent crime is committed by males. While “What is a woman?” has become a question politicians struggle to answer, Ingala Smith is categoric. “Allowing biological males with transgender identities to access women’s spaces,” she writes, “poses a serious potential risk to women’s safety, wellbeing and recovery.”

Ingala Smith grew up in a home that was far from harmonious: anger and upset were never far away. The man she called Dad was a builder, providing what she describes as “a comfortable working-class home” in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire. But, she says, he was a controlling man: “It felt the whole family, especially my mum, was always walking on eggshells.”

Eventually, when Ingala Smith was 18, her mother left and confided in a friend that Karen had a different father. In fact, she was the product of a fling at 18 with her fiancé’s best man, a Sicilian who’d moved to Yorkshire to marry a local girl he’d met in Milan. While Ingala Smith’s brother and sister were blond, she was dark and, as she grew older, her mother secretly removed photos from the wedding album in case she noticed how similar she looked to a certain guest.

When Ingala Smith heard about her real father she made contact. At 21 she met him at Thornton railway station, near Bradford. “I was looking for this gorgeous Italian man,” she says. “I’m thinking Robert De Niro, Al Pacino – and actually I got Danny DeVito.” She laughs. They hit it off straight away and she was quickly welcomed into his family, later meeting her Sicilian grandparents.

A bright girl, Ingala Smith found school a sanctuary from her troubled home life. There were few books in her house and she’d never considered A-levels let alone college, “but I happened to have a good friend from what you might call a first generation middle-class family. I remember having my mind blown that they had political conversations around the dinner table, because we weren’t allowed to speak when we were eating.”

Studying sociology at sixth-form college was “absolutely life-changing – it put everything I was experiencing into context”. It was here she first encountered feminism, which she regarded then as irrelevant, feeling more in common with the lads from her old comprehensive than the “posh girls” now in her class who’d been at a fee-paying school.

After graduating from the University of Kent, she took a job in a hostel for homeless women, mainly elderly former psychiatric patients. Then, after two years, she began work at a domestic violence refuge and felt immediately she was in the right place. “Any woman I met could have been my mother. In fact, one summer Mum came on a trip we organised for the refuge kids and she started talking about how there hadn’t been anything like this when she’d needed it.”

Would her mother have left for a refuge? Ingala Smith shrugs. “I don’t know. They are not easy places to live in. We had a nice home and to give that up would be really hard, as it is for anyone.” She says people rarely understand refuges are places of absolute last resort. “They can be chaotic, noisy. Women who have other economic choices would go elsewhere. You’re moving into a house with maybe ten other families that you don’t know, with children of all different ages, with very different parenting ideas to your own. They can really help kids who’ve grown up with violent dads because they meet others in the same boat. But they’re challenging places.”

A move to a refuge is invariably fast. A woman in danger is referred by police or social services, then refuge staff have a brief phone call to try to determine whether she’s a danger to others – perhaps has a history of violence or arson – before arranging to meet her close by. (A refuge never gives out its address on the phone.) “You’d imagine women would turn up black and blue, but that is rare,” Ingala Smith says. “I think women wait until they’re ‘decent’. Besides, after an assault they often don’t have the strength to get themselves together. They wait until it’s quieter, when they know it’s coming again, and then leave.”

The refuge suggests a safety plan: to gather up passports and bank books; siphon possessions discreetly to a friend’s house; to remember that you’re most at risk of violence just after leaving. Ingala Smith notes there were few referrals in late December. “Women didn’t want to leave violent men and disrupt Christmas for children, and you knew anybody who came at that time of year – one year we had a woman turn up on Christmas Eve with three kids – was in a really bad way. In January, the phone rings off the hook.”

Ingala Smith has been the CEO of Nia since 2009. Beginning as Hackney Women’s Aid in 1975, it supports about 2,000 women a year, running a specialist refuge for women in prostitution and another for those dealing with substance abuse. Much has changed since she joined the refuge movement: many small feminist charities have merged as they must now compete for council contracts with generic housing trusts. These don’t provide the “woman-centred care” Ingala Smith believes is vital for those fleeing violent men.

Nia also works with women at high risk of domestic violence and runs East London Rape Crisis, serving both sexes. Here it counsels men and trans women, whom it often refers to Galop, a specialist LGBT+ anti-abuse charity. But no male people – whether men or trans women – are allowed into Nia refuges or group counselling.

In 2017, Nia’s trustees decided to invoke the exemptions in the Equality Act that permit single-sex services “as a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim”. It knew this was a risk. Such is the toxic debate on gender, female-only services often receive threats to their funding or have staff reported to trustees merely for liking a JK Rowling tweet. They receive hoax calls to test whether they are trans inclusive. The whole sector is chilled by how trans activists targeted Vancouver Rape Relief and Women’s Shelter: it was defunded, vandalised and had a dead rat pinned to its door for remaining single sex.

The question of whether a trans woman can safely be accommodated alongside women has riven the refuge movement. “They [trans women] are not a potential risk to women because they are trans,” she writes, “but because they are male.” She cites cases of trans prisoners like Karen White who were allowed into female jails and sexually abused inmates. “Prison officers, who are really good at risk-assessing violent men, get it wrong. So how can we screen [people] in five-minute phone calls?”

Besides, this is about more than safety. Many women in refuges endured sexual abuse, often as children. Being housed with any males generates a debilitating and involuntary post-traumatic response in the brain. “It’s not hate. It’s not bigotry. It’s not transphobia,” she says. “It is an impact of abuse by men… The presence of a male-bodied person among vulnerable women causes distress and consternation.” She is aghast that Mridul Wadhwa, the trans woman who heads Edinburgh Rape Crisis, told The Guilty Feminist podcast last year that female survivors who demand male-free spaces should work to “reframe their trauma”.

In group counselling, she says, male people have been socialised to dominate groups, to ask more questions and take up space, while women have learnt to serve and make way for them. “I remember talking to a woman about what her options were and she started crying. I asked why. She said, ‘Nobody’s ever given me a choice before.’ To recover, women have to centre themselves in their own lives.”

But what of women who say they have no problem receiving counselling alongside trans women? “I understand that some female rape survivors can say, ‘A women-only service is not important to me. I’d be happy for a trans sister to be in my group.’ If they want to say that, it’s fine, but they shouldn’t take away that choice from women for whom it isn’t fine.” Young women who campaign for trans-inclusive services, she says, are mainly middle-class graduates unlikely to need them. Nia’s younger staff support the policy, even though defending it has cost some of them friends.

At root, Ingala Smith believes, violence suffered by women and trans women has a different dynamic. In her book she disputes Stonewall’s assertion that trans women suffer the highest levels of domestic abuse and murder. “Well, show me the data. Because I hear that, but I’ve never seen figures to demonstrate it.” She has collated every murder victim who might come under the broad Stonewall definition of a trans woman (which includes occasional cross-dressers). Since 2009, there have been nine murders, the last being Amy Griffiths in 2019. Most were sex workers murdered by punters or who died in drug-related fights. Just one, Vanessa Santillan in 2015, was killed by an intimate partner.

By contrast, only about 8 per cent of women victims are killed by strangers, the rest by men they know. “Most women’s refuges work exclusively with women who are fleeing partners, former partners and, in some cases, family members,” she writes. “That doesn’t mean other people don’t need places of safety or support, just that their experiences and needs are different.” She wonders why Stonewall doesn’t devote its resources to setting up specialist services rather than campaigning against those created by and for women.

The Femicide Census has revealed trends Ingala Smith hadn’t anticipated. “I was shocked,” she says, “by the number of elderly women killed in burglaries. I assumed that if a man broke into an old woman’s house he might push her down the stairs, she could be frail and bang her head. But there’s a real brutality, a particular anger and misogyny involved. Often young men use sexual violence against elderly women.” She was also surprised how many women are killed by their own sons.

Twice as many men are murdered than women but overwhelmingly by other men. When women kill – 8 per cent of murderers are female – they are both more likely to use a weapon (which makes it an aggravated offence in sentencing) and to have been abused by their victim, while men, being stronger, frequently kill with their bare hands. Strangulation is men’s second most common murder method and lately Ingala Smith has seen many lawyers adopt the “sex game gone wrong” defence.

How has devoting her life to the terrible things men do to women affected her own life? “I had a string of disastrous relationships – I just shagged around, basically – and didn’t think men were up to much.” She’d find herself moved to tears when witnessing a happy family, since her own experience was so dysfunctional.

Then, after writing off men as “avenues for happiness”, she decided to apply herself properly rather than settling for “whoever I ended up snogging in a pub at the weekend”. She started internet dating, setting herself high standards. The result was her husband of 20 years, André, a subtitler of South African parentage who speaks four languages, to whom she dedicates her book. They have no children, after several painful failed courses of IVF.

Ingala Smith knows her book will put her further in the firing line – the Labour Party has already refused her application for membership – but single-sex services “are the hill I’m prepared to die on”. That list of dead women never gets any shorter, I say. Will there ever be fewer names? “That’s the subject of my PhD, which I’m just finishing,” she says, “and my next book.” Defending Women’s Spaces by Karen Ingala Smith is out now (£15.99, Polity)

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girl4music · 3 years ago

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Miss Artiphys - Transgender representation in 1996!

This is a relevant and relatable conversation in the Season 2 episode, ‘Here She Comes… Miss Amphipolis’, between Xena and a transgender character. Even though this episode is considered a comedy, it’s very heartfelt and honest because of the themes of domestic abuse and transgender representation. I’m so happy they were able to air this episode for being in the year of 1996 when these controversial themes were rarely talked about on TV. Especially being transgender. The character, Miss Artiphys, played by drag queen; Karen Dior, talks about how your power and worth is taken away from you just because you’re different. Making you feel like you don’t belong in the world, in your community, or just in general perception. It’s something anyone could resonate with but never more so than those who identify by a different gender to what they’re born as and want to be accepted for it. It’s not clear whether the character is transgender or just a transvestite but I would say this conversation sub-textually implies that Miss Artiphys is a transgender because it seems that they feel much happier as a woman than a man which makes a huge difference between them as a transgender isn’t just gender expression but also personal identification. It’s who the person is instead of who they perform as for entertainment purposes. So I very much think of this character as transgender.

It’s a cruel world for transgenders at the moment in America, what with the Texas bathroom bill and transgenders being banned from joining the U.S. military. Including transgender veterans being fired from their job just because of their identity. And you know, a lot of people think these people choose to be this way. They don’t. Much like a homosexual doesn’t choose to be one. It’s what they innately are and how they feel inside. They only choose to embrace it instead of deny it. Unlike some cisgender and heterosexual individuals, who feel so uncomfortable with the thought of change and someone being different from them, to the point where they consider them dangerous and a threat to society. I’ll never understand it. It’s beyond me to comprehend why transphobia or homophobia exists. Why being LGBTQ is even an issue at all... Especially nowadays when a good portion of the human population is LGBTQ or questioning. And they still face this today! This injustice and this discrimination! It has to end!

I think the character, Nomi Marks, from the show, ‘Sense8′, played by a real trans actor; Jamie Clayton, said it best: “The real violence, the violence I realized was unforgivable, is the violence we do to ourselves, when we’re too afraid to be who we really are.”

If we can’t believe in ourselves and accept ourselves for what we truly are, how can we ever expect to be happy in life, and to live peacefully with others? Because what matters at the end of the day, regardless what philosophy or faith you follow, is to believe in yourself. First and foremost, that should be the most important moral you have. Believing in yourself and what you’re capable of doing. All other values fall under that. And if you don’t see it that way, then you’ll never be happy, because mindset makes the difference. Your thoughts and feelings are key to this! You must understand that you only view the world and other people through the filters of how you think and feel about it and them. You don’t see any other way. A lot of people don’t realize that the subjective is all they have. They know that experience requires consciousness, but they don’t understand that that means every experience is different for everyone. So, they treat them with the misunderstanding that everyone thinks and feels the same. The only way to resolve this is for us all to be more aware of how we treat ourselves and each other. To listen to and to care for ourselves and each other. Our thoughts and feelings can turn the tables on us otherwise. And we wonder why so many people struggle with mental illness. It’s obvious why to me.

Rest in power, Geoffrey Gann (aka; Karen Dior). And thank you for portraying this character that provided much needed representation for the trans community.

This is for you @frankierose. I might not know what it’s like to be trans and therefore not understand what you have and must still go through… but just like Xena, know that you will always have an ally in me. This is the original commentary for ‘Here She Comes… Miss Amphipolis’ that I wanted to show you the other day but couldn’t find it. Perhaps the post got deleted or something… who knows? Nevertheless, you can read the commentary now. I hope you like it.

#xena warrior princess #here she comes… miss amphipolis #miss artiphys #transgender representation #karen dior #geoffrey gann #xena #lucy lawless #LGBTQ #nomi marks #jamie clayton #sense 8 #frankierose #i am an ally

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uh-velkommen · 3 years ago

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The White Lotus, HBOMax

Alright four episodes in and things are finally starting to ramp up. My face throughout the whole episode was stuck on discomfort. This show packs so much tension in every 45 minutes that I'm constantly waiting for somebody to pop off or something crazy to happen but instead we get teased with the smallest little plot pusher. Which is working. I'm officially intrigued. I do wish I knew the overall point of the show because that's what would've helped me decide if I wanted to keep up with but now my determination to find out how this all ends is doing just that...

Character breakdown + Spoilers/Predictions

Armond: The manager of the White Lotus resort. I love him in all his poor choices. He's just constant chaos simply because he has the power to create it. He's also the biggest driver of drama. He lies a lot, almost pathologically, and he will carry those lies to the grave for no real reason.

Nicole Mossbacher: Resort guest, Mark's wife, and Olivia and Quinn's mom. She's a pretty basic character who is teased about possibly having OCD and working during vacation. She was pretty chill in the first 2 episodes but every once in a while she says things that gives off I'm a centrist but my views lean a little more conservative.

Mark Mossbacher: In the beginning he's stressing about possibly having testicular cancer because his father died of cancer... Turns out his father had AIDs. He has a depressive episode over his dad being gay and then, while drunk, he inadvertently comes onto the Armond. The next day Armond tests the waters with Sober Mark and we get uncomfortably funny scenes of Armond coming onto Mark in front of the whole family. Mark's a very passive dude who doesn't do anything exciting in the show but we just find out that he has, in the past, repeatedly cheated on his wife and didn't tell her (he told his son that he did tell Nicole but I don't believe it) I think his theme is just being genuinely unhappy with his life at the moment.

Olivia Mossbacher: She's a college sophmore and has many moments where she calls out her parents questionable statements. She carries herself with a weird nonchalance where you'd think she's a mean girl but she's only ever expectedly mean to her brother. However, she brought along her friend Paula and we start to see that their friendship is built on some unspoken competition. The girls do tons of drugs on vacay until Armond gets his hands on them and breaks his 5 year sobriety. This is when and why shit starts to hit the fan. They know he stole the drugs but because everyone avoids admitting to having illegal drugs, no one is ever outright accused.

Paula: Olivia's poc friend, possible hypochondriac, and supplier of drugs, has secret rendezvous with one of the Hawaiian native resort workers. She refuses to say anything when asked about her nightly disappearances but Olivia knows why or for whom Paula keeps sneaking off. We learn that Paula doesn't want Olivia to know about her and her beau because Olivia always wants what she has. My theory is that this wouldn't be the first time Olivia has stolen a partner of hers and I think now because Paula isn't admitting to hooking up with this guy, Olivia is gonna steal him and use Paula's secrecy as a way of blame.

Quinn Mossbacher: Involuntary loner in my opinion. He comes off as a classic video game nerd, obsessed with the internet, cant live without his Switch and Fortnite. He doesn't have any friends and he takes all the teasing from Olivia and Paula without a fuss. But he starts sleeping on the beach alone and keeps running into these amazing sights to see. This is where we start to see him blossom and speak up. Its ever so slow but in episode 4 he actually walks up to a group of guys and introduces himself, interested in their boat related sport[?] (Or maybe even the guys themselves🤞) He's also the only one who knows about the Dad's affair and stupidly hints at it at the family dinner (he's just genuinely stupid).

Shane Patton: Also a resort guest and the funniest character to me. He's your run of the mill self-centered male Karen (Kevin if you will) and he arrives at the resort with his wife Rachel. They're on their honeymoon but so many moments make you question why in the hell did these two get married? He is in an unnecessarily one sided battle with Armond. First the resort accidentally downgrades his room. Armond gaslights Shane into thinking that he never purchased the bigger room. Shane gets a receipt. Armond tells him there's a German couple staying in the receipted room longer than Shane and his wife are there so the room will not be ready for them in time. Shane finds out the Germans are actually leaving wayy earlier. Armond apologizes and books them a romantic sunset dinner on a boat. The boat is actually a funeral where a strange grieving woman, named Tanya, fails to spread her mothers ashes in the sea. Shane confronts Armond and asks for Corperate's number. Armond creates a fake business card and when Shane realizes the number is fake, he bursts into Armond's office to find him rimming a coworker while high on Ketamine. Prediction: Armond's gonna get blackmailed for abuse of power in a classic Monicagate manner.

Rachel: Shane's wife. Rachel's a journalist who actually looked up to Nicole (her job as CEO of god knows what puts her in the public eye) but when she finally got to sit with Nicole over lunch, Nicole calls her out for writing an incredibly slut shamey article, claiming that Nicole used her femininity to get her where she is now. This is the first smack in the face that maybe journalism isn't for Rachel. Well that on top of the constant teasing from Shane about her career choices. Shane's family is much more wealthy than Rachel's and he always finds subtle ways to make it known. Shane also pays her no mind, flirting with Olivia and Paula and battling Armond. Even during their arguments (which happens too many times for newlyweds) Shane doesn't look at Rachel and just gives periodic "mhmm"s and "okay"s. Also Rachel hates the Mossbacher family simply because they all seem to be doing better than her.

Now for the boring ones

Tanya McQuoid: An eccentric resort guest (which is a polite way of saying, a weird ass person who is over polite and basically pushes herself into every other character's drama in the most unintentional way, she's also bad at reading the room) She comes off as calm and quiet but we find out that her mother recently passed and she's in Hawaii to spread her mothers ashes. She becomes creepily obsessed with the resort's massage parlor manager, Belinda, after a complimentary massage and suggests becoming a beneficiary so Belinda can open up her own massage parlor. Her "obsession" could possibly just stem from Belinda showing her an act of kindness during a hard time but I know I questioned Tanya's intentions for at least the first two episodes... In episode 4, some random dude, Greg, shows up and invites Tanya to dinner after "accidentally" mistaking her room door for his own. Tanya postpones a business meeting with Belinda so she and Greg can hook up that night. The presence of these characters feel a little out of place. Unlike the Newly Weds and the Mossbacher family, there is not a lot of plot overlap. Tanya will often pop up to converse with the others and brag about Balinda's skills but she doesn't cause any trouble. Tanya's also very wealthy so I definitely thing this "Greg" has some secret plot to take down Tanya or plant something or steal her cash and unfortunately I do not think Belinda will see anything bright in her future. Her plans will be left on the backburner which I say is unfortunate because she's a kind woc who is just trying to do her job and is clearly very skeptical about going into business with this strange, rich white, resort guest.

Honorable Mention

Lani: A Hawaiian native, trainee at the White Lotus. She shows up in episode one as her first day on the job. Later we find out she's also pregnant and goes into a premature labor on the job. She has her baby and disappears for the next three episode. Come back Lani, Armond has just started getting your name right!

Show Themes

The show does touch on conversations of race and class but I would not consider this a political show or one with an agenda (it's satire). I point out the characters of color here because their race becomes a device used to create tension but not in a Token POC kind of way. All the characters are rich and they are shamed for it by the show writers. By this I mean nobody is spitting in their faces and calling them Climate Killers but the choices the characters make, the things they say, and the way they act gives the viewer something to laugh at. Their ignorant entitlement juxtaposing with the beautiful Hawaiian beaches and tragic Hawaiian history creates an underlying experience of, look at these rich people not having a good time and they can't even realize why! As for the characters, there is plenty of time to sit back and question, is this character a good person, who's the real antagonist, how do these stories intertwine, who do we root for What story is attempting to be told here? What is the message!?

#the white lotus hbo #the white lotus #the white lotus hbomax #hbo max

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter One

~|Emily Fox| ~

As a seventeen-year-old, you should not be left to your devices. Unless you have no other choice. When you have a dream your parents have called unrealistic without ever listening to what you were actually capable of, you have no other choice but to move out and fend for yourself. Thankfully, I can stay with Uncle Mitch for a while until I’m off to college. Since leaving my parents’ house at fourteen, my life has consisted of high school, working at the music store, write songs – if I have the time –, help Uncle Mitch around the house, sleep, repeat. It’s been a chore. But I just about manage.

“Please, don’t touch the guitars without a supervisor, ma’am!” I say loudly from across the shop as I catch her hands rising up to pick up one of the acoustic guitars hanging on the wall for display. I rush over to her, dodging clients testing out guitars and pianos I’ve helped before. While the forty-something woman stares at me with an intense glare, I pick up the Gibson guitar for her and hand it over, offering her my fakest smile. “This one’s a nice one!” I tell her as she handles the guitar very clumsily, nearly dropping it. “What do you know about guitars?” she snarls at me. “Well, for starters, I work here, so I’m supposed to have some knowledge about guitars. Secondly, this is a bass guitar. Never just call a bass a guitar.” The woman rolls her eyes and when she casts her gaze on the strings, I roll mine. I’ve had my share of forty-something old women coming in here to buy something for their spoiled little sons, pretending they know more about guitars of any kind, pianos and drums while I have been brought up listening to Uncle Robert talking non-stop about all of his instruments. He taught me how to play each and every one of the instruments and brought me into the world of rock. If he were still here, I wouldn’t be working in a music store, trying to pay for my own apartment or my college tuition. He believed in me from the second he heard me sing and play piano. He still believes in me, I can feel it. Staying with Uncle Mitch – Uncle Robert’s husband, now widower, has been a lot more healing than it would’ve been if I still lived at my parents’. “I know that,” she grumbles, then looks back up at me. “If you know so much about everything, you little know-it-all, why don’t you tell me something more about this one?” I refrain myself from rolling my eyes again, and instead ball up my fists to put all of my anger there. “This is the Les Paul Junior Tribute DC bass. It’s actually a tribute to the historic Gibson EB-0 bass from the late 50's, but with modern features. The short scale length is actually chosen by many for its strong fundamental tone and sits perfectly in a track when recording. The mahogany double cutaway body and maple neck with rosewood fingerboard balances perfectly when playing either sitting or strapped on. It's equipped with a single expanded range LP BassBucker pickup with single volume and tone controls for simplicity. The volume pot has a push-pull feature to coil tap the pickup scooping the mids for further tone shaping possibilities.” I’ve explained this many a times, so it almost sounds as if I’ve learned it by heart. “Oh! And it comes in four different finishes; Worn Ebony, Worn Cherry, Blue Stain and Worn Brown.” The woman looks at me, clearly impressed at my knowledge of the bass in her hands. I’m pretty sure I could’ve told her anything and she would’ve believed me. “I want to speak to the manager,” she then says and pushes the bass guitar back in my hands as if handling a cardboard box. If my reflexes weren’t what they are now, we would’ve had a broken bass and I would be the one that had to pay for it. “What for?” I ask, my anger slipping through into a vicious snarl. “Just because you learn everything by heart, doesn’t mean you’re a good salesperson.” I open my mouth to say something, but I know I can’t win against a Karen. So, instead, I plaster on my best fake smile and say “Of course, give me a second.” I turn on my heel and make my way back to the cash register to get Ash, my manager who’s been nothing but an absolute gem to me. She wasn’t looking for any employees, but still hired me when she saw how desperate I was and how good I was with the instruments. She even lets me write songs after hours. “Karen alert?” Ash asks when she sees my annoyed face, at the brim of exploding. “Yep, at the bass guitars,” I tell her and take her spot to handle a paying costumer. Ash hops over the counter and makes her way to the Karen at the bass guitars. Only for her to leave the store in an angered rush without any bass guitar for her precious son. “That’s 44 dollars and 97 cents, please,” I tell the guy who’d come in for guitar strings, picks and some polish. He looks about my age. Dark hair gelled back, green almond-shaped eyes and rosy cheeks. He hands me the cash with a cute, nervous smile. “Thank you! And here’s the three cents change,” I hold out my hand for him to take the three cents, but he shakes his head. “Keep it,” he winks at me before grabbing his purchases and leaving the store. Leaving me all flustered and blushing. I hate when cute boys come to the shop and have the audacity to do this stuff to me. UGH. “Got rid of our Karen,” Ash tells me, “You can get back out there. I think the little girl over there at the piano could use some of your expertise.” She points to a fourteen-year-old gliding her fingers along the big wing of the white piano in the middle of our store. “Hi,” I say as I approach her, making her jump slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Emily. Can I help you?” She scans my face for a moment, as if assessing whether or not I’m trustworthy. I guess she decides she does when she opens her mouth and four simple words flow out of it. “Do you play piano?” I’m a bit taken aback by the question. None of the costumers have ever asked me that question. “Yes, I do, actually,” I reply honestly. “I want to learn how to play the piano, but my mother doesn’t allow me. Says it’s too expensive. The piano, that is. And lessons are expensive too, she says.” She stops talking for a moment as if thinking about what to say next. “Will you teach me?” “Oh,” I manage to bring out, “I—we don’t really offer any piano lessons in the store. We just sell them.” Her eyes water and she visibly swallows a lump in her throat. “Okay…” she whimpers, making my heart break just that bit more. “Will you play me a song though? I love hearing people play.” I take a deep breath as I think about how to turn this girl down. But then I remember my parents turning me and my dreams down. “Sure, I can play you a song. Any requests?” I ask as I sit down on the stool in front of us, patting beside me to invite her too. “Surprise me,” she says, shaking her head with a big smile on her face. I carefully touch the keys as I think of a song to sing. Once I’ve figured that out, I begin to play the right melody and then chime in with the lyrics I’d written with Uncle Robert when he was still alive. The song I cherish the most and wouldn’t share with anyone. But this girl reminds me too much of myself, and I think she might take something from the message. “Here's the one thing I want you to know You got someplace to go Life's a test, yes But you go toe to toe You don't give up, no, you grow.” The girl looks up at me with big Bambi eyes, urging me to continue. “And you use your pain Cause it makes you you Though I wish I could hold you through it I know it's not the same You got living to do And I just want you to do it So get up, get out, relight that spark You know the rest by heart” As I begin the chorus, I hear drums backing me up from somewhere inside the store, and when I look around, I find Ash behind a drum set with a smile on her face as she helps me out a little. “Wake up, wake up, if it's all you do Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost, it's what you'll gain Raising your voice to the rain Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost Relight that spark Time to come out of the dark Wake up, wake up” By now, Ash and I have gained an audience. Most of the costumers in line don’t even mind having to wait to pay until we’re done with this outburst of ours. “Better wake those demons, just look them in the eye No reason not to try Life can be a mess, I won't let it cloud my mind I'll let my fingers fly” The girl next to me still has the same expression on her face. Eyes pooled with admiration and inspiration. Exactly the reason why I make music and why it’s been a dream of mine to make a career out of it. “And I use the pain 'cause it's part of me And I'm ready to power through it Gonna find the strength, find the melody 'Cause you showed me how to do it Get up, get out, relight that spark You know the rest by heart” I go for the chorus again, and then pop in with the bridge. The one I added to uncle’s song. The costumers in the store stare at Ash and me with smiles on their faces whilst swaying along to the song. “So wake that spirit, spirit I wanna hear it, hear it No need to fear it, you're not alone You're gonna find your way home” I close my eyes as I hit that high note, then stop playing for a second whilst starting the chorus for the last time. Even Ash backs me up with some backing vocals after having heard the chorus a couple of times already. “Wake up, wake up, if it's all you do” The both of us pick up the melody again, putting more power behind the rest of the song. “Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost, it's what you'll gain Raising your voice to the rain Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you When you're feeling lost Relight that spark Time to come out of the dark Wake up, wake up” I hit the last couple of notes on the piano before a roar of applause and cheers fills up the entire store. The fourteen-year-old beside me is clapping the loudest of them all. Her eyes still wide and admiring and full of life. “What’s your name?” I ask the girl, causing her to stop clapping. “Kayla,” she replies. “Listen to me, Kayla. Even if your parents don’t agree with your big dreams, please, never give up on your dream! If this is really what you want to do, go for it. You’ll find a way, I promise you.” A tear rolls down her pink cheek as her bottom lip trembles slightly. “Don’t give up, okay?” She nods her head vigorously. “Thank you, Emily!” she wraps her arms around me into a tight hug before hopping off the stool and rushing out the store. As I watch her run out, my eyes land on a guy. Somewhat my age, I think. I can’t really function for a second as his hazel eyes stare at me and with his mouth curled up on one side. When I finally manage to move again, my eyes scan him entirely. His brown hair sticks out from underneath an orange beanie, his nose fine and cheekbones defined. He’s wearing a flannel shirt over a grey muscle tank and ripped black jeans. I give him an awkward smile before heading back to the cash register. “Can you do register for a moment? I need to check something in stock,” Ash asks me, and I simply nod before helping the next costumer. After the fifth costumer, the boy who’d been staring at me before shows up in front of me. “How can I help?” I ask with my best customer service-smile. “By giving your number,” he replies coyly. I was going to give him the cute boy card until those words came out of his mouth. “Sorry, my number ain’t for sale,” I reply and look behind him, “Next!” “Oh, no, sorry! Uhm, I don’t mean it like that, I—” Before he can mutter another word, I interrupt him. “Are you going to purchase something, bro?” He opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking like a goldfish. “Uhm… No… I just—” I interrupt him again. “Next customer, please,” I stare at him intensely, hoping that’d chase him away. He knocks on the counter before moving away, clearly defeated by the rejection. I can’t believe douchebags like him still exists in this generation. People need to learn manners. “Hi, how can I help you?” I ask the next customer, bringing back my best smile. Just got to move on, just as I moved on from dealing with a Karen again today. Best way to do that, is focus on all the other customers. For the rest of my shift, I have not been able to shake the cute-but-rude guy from before. There’s something about him that haunts me still and I can’t seem to figure out what it is. Not even when I’m focusing on cleaning up the store. As I’m dusting the piano, I hear the bell above the door ring. “Sorry, we’re closed!” I yell without looking up from the piano. “Are you going to play again?” The voice sends shivers down my spine as it takes me right back to that one douchey line it uttered just a mere hour before. “Again, we are closed, sorry.” This time it comes out more like a snarl and with a bit of poison. The boy in front of me chuckles and holds his hands up in defeat. “Listen, I’m sorry about before, but—” he steps closer to me, but I hold up my finger to make him stop, and it seems to help as he simply freezes in place. “But the store is closed. Goodbye now.” I go back to dusting off the piano and wait for the bell to ring again, but it doesn’t. Instead, the sound of guitar strums reaches my ears. “You can’t touch any of the guitars without supervision,” I tell him sternly, but when I meet his eyes and they’re looking at me intently as if urging me to do something. “You’re supervising me, aren’t you?” he asks cockily, still stroking the strings, creating a beautiful melody that fills up my head. “What do you want?” I ask bitterly, looking at him again, and hoping it would make him leave faster. “For you to sing.” “Sing what?” He shrugs, leaving me to wonder what he means by that. “I have a lot of work to do, dude. Please, leave,” I sound pathetic, nearly begging him to leave. I’m only a step away from begging on my knees. The sound of the guitar abruptly stops when I go back to cleaning the piano. “Listen, I just wanted to tell you that what you did earlier today was amazing. You know, not a lot of people have the power you have. Did you see what you did to all those people in here? Imagine doing that for thousands of people! Have you ever thought of that?” I turn to look at him, suddenly having the urge to tell him everything. Then I remember what a douchebag he really is. “I don’t have time for this. Please. Leave!” I shout at him before heading towards the cash register to start counting the money. It’s silent for a while until the bell over the door breaks it. I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. This boy did something to me without me even realizing it. Nope. Can’t trust boys. They don’t do anything but break hearts and be douchebags. But this one somehow seemed different. No other boy has ever left such an impression as he did. And I didn’t even have a proper conversation with him. I just hope I don’t have to see him. Like ever again.

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie x oc #OC Emily Fox #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #julie molina #jeremy shada #madison reyes #owen joyner

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clonewarslover55 · 4 years ago

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Walon Vau’s story

I decided to write out Walon Vau’s story, especially his home life and childhood. Why is Walon Vau the way he is? Read this and find out why.

Notes: I used my own headcanons mixed with the small details Karen Traviss gave us in the Republic Commando books. Please don’t steal this because you think it’s all hers!

Warnings: Bad childhood, abuse, child abuse, wounds, whipping, exile, royal drama, evil in the form of a man, thoughts of suicide, angst,

Let’s start this off with a little bit of planet information and backstory!

The planet Irmenu is a small ocean world, the only land masses being large rocky islands. Most seem like mountains, with dangerous cliffs leading into the cold unforgiving sea. The ocean is riddled with beasts and monsters, but the only way of life is to sail. There are some valleys for livestock or farming, but not many. The valleys usually flood anyways, the storms always ruthless. So the Irmenu people fish and sail, searching for months on end just to survive and feed their family.

Sailing is easy enough. The winds are strong and the seas rough. It’s cold year around, but the people have learned to adapt and survive. Wearing the fur of the air breathing sea beasts, making larger boats, etc.

The kingdoms are clusters of islands, not one large land mass. Many islands are in large clusters, huge oceans between each cluster. The islands are all under the rule of the religious leaders, but sometimes there is still conflict. Conflict never lasts long on Irmenu though.

This oceanic planet is in the Outer Rim, in the Belsmuth sector. Their planet is in the middle of the Crombach Nebula, which is extremely hazardous. This gives Irmenu a very good excuse to be so isolated. The leaders of the world use this to their advantage.

This planet is a Feudal world, which means it’s controlled by a strict religion that also runs the powerful military. This means his world is very close minded and far behind on certain technologies and such. They still have spaceships and holopads, yes, but they’re out of date and ancient.

The Imperius Priesthood runs the planet under very strict rules. They control what leaves and goes, along with who. They control the nobles and their money, using the Count’s as their marionettes. If you didn’t follow their rules/beliefs, you were either publicly executed, exiled, or sent to a nunnery. All depends on the situation.

They’re everywhere, spying on their people and arresting whoever they please. Being so strict and ruling by fear affected the Irmenu people terribly. Most were religious fanatics, which means religion dictates every single part of their lives. They read the Irmenu Bible over and over instead of other books, and they follow the rules like good puppets.

This planet is clearly terrible on it’s own, which only made Walon Vau’s childhood even worse.

Walon Vau was born around 79 BBY on the planet Irmenu. He was the first and only son of the Count of Gesl, who was also an admiral in the very large Irmenu navy. Walon was raised like any royal, so he didn’t have much of a childhood.

Every second of every day was planned out by his father. He was highly educated, classes every day of the week and all day long. He rarely saw his parents, and when he did it was never under good circumstances.

Walon learned proper etiquette, dancing, poetry, politics, and many other things he’d need to know for his future as a ruler. He was taught by a number of tutors, each brutal and cruel. He either learned, or was beaten.

Once he reached the age of ten he began to work harder, practicing and studying for the navy. He didn’t want to follow in his fathers footsteps, but Walon had no choice. Plus he loved sailing, the ocean was calming and vast. The navy was his only hope for a better life.

Pa Vau, Walon’s father was a harsh man. He was described as domineering, cold hearted, and unpleasable. He beat Walon when he didn’t do perfect on his lessons or training. He wanted Walon to be like him, so he tried to beat all emotion and feeling from his son. He almost succeeded.

A good ruler in Irmenu has no heart or soul in Pa’s eyes.

He would never hit Walon on the face or anywhere visible, he had to have a good face as a royal. As Walon got older the beatings became more often and more brutal, because he wasn’t doing good enough in Pa’s eyes.

When Walon was fourteen and tried out for the navy his own father rejected him, saying he was not good enough. Walon continued to train, the beatings even worse. The training didn’t help, Walon never made it into the navy. Pa was so unpleasable his only child was never good enough for him. This caused Walon to quickly lose hope, the thought of suicide seeming more appealing by the day.

Walon only ever got to see his mother at nights, when she would come clean up his bloody lashing marks and other wounds. She was a soft gentle woman, but timid. Pa beat her as well, making sure she didn’t see her son for too long. She was never allowed to see Walon alone, because Pa didn’t want Vau to go soft by a mothers love.

She was a religious fanatic just like his father, so she would lecture him as well. He had to be better, he had to. He was royalty, he was better than how he acted. Her words were often more cruel than intended.

When she finished cleaning his wounds she’d read him a chapter of the Irmenu Bible, a book Walon was forced to know every last word to. He never listened though, he would always zone out and dream of a better life…….Or even of ending his life.

His parents were never in love, their marriage arranged. His father married his mother because of her wealth and bloodline. His mother had rare golden eyes, a symbol of high status to his people. He got her eyes, but his father said that the color of his eyes meant nothing compared to how much of a failure he is.

When Walon turned sixteen he was at a ball for some religious holiday, where we meant a beautiful princess of a neighboring province. After a few dances they quickly hit it off, and grew close rather fast. She basically saved his life, keeping him from ending it once and for all. She also changed his future for the better.

He would sneak out as often as he could to meet her under the stars, but more often than not they wrote love letters on flimsy back and forth. Each letter, written with the finest penmanship and finest poetic words was kept by the princess. Walon kept hers as well, in a box under his bed.

When Walon was eighteen, he asked his father if he could marry the princess. His father and her father both rejected the marriage, along with the Priesthood. Not because of politics or religion, but because Walon was not good enough or worthy to marry such a beautiful woman.

His father was enraged that he had dared to ask such a question, so he was beaten worse than ever and nearly died. All because his father was embarrassed. When Walon healed a little he learned his love had been shipped away across the planet, to a nunnery. She would learn her lesson for sneaking out and falling in love with someone who was not of an arranged marriage.

He knew he’d never see her again.

Walon was exiled temporarily aftwards, being sent to some neighboring shit hole of a planet. He was eighteen and alone, with no idea of the outside world. His mother sobbed for days, her only child and her last hope gone. She prayed every night that he would be allowed back soon.

Luckily for Walon Vau, he used to sneak out to the large library every night to read books. They had no fiction books, so he just learned about other societies and their ways. Most books pointed out how “bad” they were, but Walon always thought they were so much better than his planet's society.

Thanks to reading, he knew a bit about the real galaxy.

Walon had nothing but the clothes on his back. He had no money or possessions. No title, no name. So he wandered.

Soon he ran into a group of Mandalorians, one by the name of Jaster Mereel. They quickly took in a teenage Walon, teaching him a new way. The way of the Mandalorian warriors. He never believed his home world's ludicrous ideas, so switching religions and cultures was very easy for Walon.

His family found out and disowned Walon for giving up his culture and religion. He lost his title and broke his mothers heart. His mother apparently died of a broken heart, after she heard the news that he would never return. But he knows deep down that his father finally snapped and killed her.

Walon became a perfect warrior, his body and mind already scarred from years and years of abuse. He was cold, calm, and calculated. Walon was also highly educated and very intelligent. So much so that some other Mandalorians taught him how to torture and dismember. He learned about the medical field and could have even been a doctor, but he preferred dead bodies and torturing.

Jedi could hardly sense him in the force, his soul too broken. He was a perfect Mandalorian Warrior, fighting along with his friend Jango Fett and many others for years. He fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars, killing Jedi with no issue.

Early in his time with the Mandalorians, Walon met a Strill. The Strill could sense Walon’s shattered soul and broken mind, so it adopted him. The Strill was named Lord Mirdalan, jokingly after his favorite uncle. The uncle that had beaten him the less, and had been executed when Walon was ten. Walon did not miss him, or anyone from his home world.

That’s Walon Vau’s childhood story. He’s ice cold, calm, and utterly detached for a reason. His body is scarred, as is his shattered soul. He was so traumatized and beaten down into the way of the soulless that he had a hard time trying to escape that pit.

He was cruel to his Clone Commandos, but every day he would be up all night thinking. He wanted them to survive the war, that's all he wanted. He didn’t want them to be failures like him, he couldn’t allow it. Failures never survived.

Walon Vau hardly ever sleeps at night, his mind plagued by nightmares. Not of the wars, but of his home life.

Mird held Vau together a little better, but his soul never healed. He could never escape the hole of his traumatic past, and it ruined his life forever.

They call him a psychopath but he really isn’t. Walon Vau can still feel, he just doesn’t know how to. Walon Vau is just a shattered and traumatized man, one who never got proper help. One who never had a childhood.

(Please reblog this if you like it! I worked very hard on it!)

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @iamassbuttkingofhell @catsnkooks @mxndalorians @colorfulloverbatturkey @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @strangebroadwaykinks @jedi-nila-rhyn @crimson-dxwn @detroitbydark @passionofthesith

#walon vau #Walon Vau's story #Republic Commando #Planet Irmenu #Pa Vau #Ma Vau #republic commando novels #republic commando game #republic commandos #delta squad #walon vau’s boys #repcomm novels #repcomm game #repcom #repcomm

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rosesnink · 4 years ago

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Plan B, Chapter 2: A Mother’s Sins

Author’s Notes

*English is not my first language, so please forgive me any typos and/or grammar mistakes

*All the characters minus my OC Samantha belong to Pixelberry Studios

*If this is your first time stumbling upon my work and are interested in this au, please check out Plan B’s masterlist with previous works and my general masterlist!

Summary: Two months after the happenings of the announcement, Sam and Ernest find out the sex of their baby and memories about Sam’s childhood flood back.

Word Count: 3620

Seven years ago

Samantha sat beside her gravely ill mother, pale-looking and weak at the fancy hospital. She was holding her hand while she looked pensively at the ceiling, her graze lost. Samantha sighed, trying to get her attention.

"Is something the matter, mother?"

After a silent minute, her mother Mary looked at her and stroked her cheek "My dearest Sam, my beautiful baby girl. You are my greatest gift in this world, alongside your brother Harry and your adoptive brother Edmund. You three had been my anchor and reason of happiness, but we must embrace the truth."

"Mother—."

"I am dying, Samantha. And there is nothing we can do about it. But I can help you so you don't end up like me. I've already unburdened my heart to your brother Harry and Edmund, now I must do so with you."

"Mother, what is the meaning of this?"

"Sammy, I loved your father, truly. But during almost 46 years, his sense of duty was between us, even when I got pregnant with you. We loved each other, but between Edgewater and me, Edgewater came first. I felt so lonely, surrounded by nobles who didn't want me here and weren't certainly welcome. I fear I brought shame onto this family, but you, my girl, you will be our salvation. I know it's too much to ask, but marry someone who you think can make you happy and with a suitable rank. It is the only way."

"Mother that is… a bit old-fashioned."

"I know, but think about it. But before that, make me the happiest of women and get that medical degree so at least you've got a living if anything goes wrong."

"I—I will consider your words, Mother." She kissed her hands.

"One more thing. Never marry a man who doesn't know who he is or what he wants in his life. Because, even with all the money and power in the world, it will be a shallow, sad life, even if you do love him."

"I promise I will follow your counsel, mother."

She kissed her hand "I know you will."

Samantha woke up, that dream feeling too real. She sighed as she remembered well her mother's last days before she left them. Even when she was dying and Henrietta was trying to impress her father, she never went after her or tried to demonize her or poor Edmund. It was her who encouraged Vincent to move on from her. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew that Henrietta and Vincent had an understanding. What the understanding was, she didn't know.

She looked at the clock: it was four in the morning, an hour before she was due to wake up uni day.

After not going for weeks, she decided that it was time for her to go and talk to the principal and her counselor: one of the many emails she had were from them, after all.

She got a hot shower, brushed her teeth, put on some soft makeup and comfortable clothes, and got something light to eat before messaging her classmates that she was on her way to uni.

"Ah, Miss Foredale, at long last we get a sight of you! Please, take a seat."

Principal Gray invited, a warm smile on her face "Your father called me, saying that you were sick, but I must hear your version,"

Sam chewed her lip before asking "Will this be between us and the counselor?"

"If that is your wish. You're almost twenty-six years old, Samantha. You've been in your right to demand to keep things to ourselves since you turned eighteen."

She nodded before she looked at the principal and confessed "The reason why I didn't attend class wasn't a sickness… the thing is, I'm pregnant, Mrs. Gray."

Her eyebrows shoot so up she feared they might fly away, but quickly coughed politely before asking "And… what is your plan? Should you wish to either keep it or abort, you have our support."

"After a long talk with the father and pondering what is better for me, I have decided to keep it."

She smiled at her warmly before getting that stern look she always had "You do realize what having a child takes and means?"

"I do, Mrs. Gray."

"And you're aware of the changes that come within the pregnancy?"

"Uh… a bit?" She seemed now a bit scared.

Thankfully, Mrs. Gray was a kind lady and patted her on her hand before she began to speak, her stare years away "I was a bit older when I first got my son. I have to say that my husband then wasn't a good man: he was the typical bad husband who didn't even blink at the news of having a son, saying that I just did the bare minimum by giving him 'what he was owed'. Nevertheless, I was so happy when my Christopher was born… Pregnancy can indeed be tricky, but many pregnancies can be even pleasant to go through. My sister-in-law had a better pregnancy than I had, and she had triplets. Her skin and hair glowed and barely had any pains, all the pain she had was in the birth."

"I guess getting three whole humans out of your system can be highly exhausting."

"What I want to say is, that I understand your fears: you're scared, without a close female figure to give you counsel, but don't worry, I shall dial an old alumnus of mine that has turned out to be a brilliant doctor, specialized in young women's pregnancies. You're welcome to bring the father with you, but she shall not judge you if you come alone," she lowered her tone, an amusing tone on her face "just be careful with the pregnant Karens and her mob of conservative mums while waiting for the doctor to call. The less you interact with them, the better."

Sam giggled, now more relaxed than before. They talked a bit more before she gave her the number of said doctor and proceeded to go to the counselor's office, where they figured out a plan of what to do as her pregnancy advanced.

Before class, she messaged Ernest, inviting him to come with her to the doctor's appointment. He got the message but didn't read it. She shrugged –perhaps he was busy.

During the day, Hamid messaged her too and even Annabelle wanted to know how was her first day at uni being pregnant. At the break, she video called Annabelle and talked for a bit, laughing while they enjoyed their lattes, forgetting for once the drama outside cooking. A kind classmate whispered to watch the newspaper's gossip section.

Viscountess of Foredale, possible romance with dashing Turkish diplomat?!

She read the section with eyes wide:

This past week has been eventful for the Earl of Edgewater. Not only his daughter and heir have been hospitalized for the night, but also we have seen a glimpse of her gallivanting around with the dashing Turkish diplomat, Hamid Osmanoglu! Seems like the Viscountess stopped trailing on the widower Mr. Ernest Sinclaire of Ledford Park and found herself a new man who pays her attention?

If you don't believe me, here's a photo of them sharing a kiss no less after what seemed like a very interesting conversation! Will sparks fly? Or will he as well get bored of this spinster? Talk to me, my dear readers! Are you team Hamid or team Ernest?

Samantha put the newspaper down, and annoyance scoff on her face. Who the hell were these people anyway? Couldn't she have a bit of peace for one damn minute?

She felt a bit of shame for poor Ernest, and Hamid too. She bit the inside of her cheek before calling Ernest first, who picked the phone after four sounding rings

"Yes?"

"Ernest, may I know if you've seen the gossip newspaper yet?"

"Not personally, but my secretary informed me."

She sighed, biting her lip "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to barge you into unnecessary drama,"

"I know you meant well, Samantha. It's enraging how they paint you," she could almost picture his annoyed scowl "calling you that, it's an outrage! Have they not got any respect for you?"

"Thank you for your concern. But you know this kind of people. They love to add fuel to the fire and cause drama over nothing,"

"It's not an excuse to shame a woman for having free will over her life."

Samantha's heart warmed at how little he cared about how they painted him. When he was a teenager, he was painted as an unreachable cheeky boy. Then, his parents died during a visit to the Emirates and everything changed. He married Roselyn rather young –he was then 23—and closed off to everyone, including her father, who he always saw as a second father. He was then one of the most tragic men in London. Samantha tried to be there for him, but Roselyn didn't help. It was like she wanted him clueless. Then she found out that she was seeing the creepy duke and tried to warn him, but again, Roselyn kicked her out. She wondered what happened the year before her death, why did they just… disappeared. There were many rumors indeed, but she waited and waited every day to hear from him, but it didn't happen until he showed up at a party only to talk businesses. She tried to get something out of him by dancing, but he was stiff and silent all the time. Something grave indeed happened. And she knew it was Roselyn's fault. Ernest here was the victim. She didn't hear of them after they departed to Scotland and then, all they knew was that she had died a week ago and Ernest was preparing himself for the burial.

During those weeks, she was there for him, and then one night she asked him out and he accepted. And then, that same night, they conceived their child… Sam touched her growing belly thoughtfully. It has been two months ever since and they have gone out, going on revisions as well. She answered the phone again as Ernest's concerned voice called for her again "Sorry, I zoned out. What did you say again?"

"I was asking if I may accompany you to today's appointment with the doctor."

"Oh, I'd love to! But your work—,"

"Can wait. I want to be there for you both and make some questions of my own to the doctor,"

She nodded before they planned where to meet and they both hung up. Sam went to some more classes and activities before excusing herself. She barely came out of the uni's doors when Ernest's familiar car parked there, him looking at her rather nervously. She smiled at him reassuringly and hopped into the car, both in silence.

"So, did the baby give you any trouble?"

"Not at all, the baby behaved well and barely gave me any pain. I think my hair and skin had gotten softer and shinier," Sam said proudly. Ernest looked at her before looking again at the road.

"I do see you shining. Maybe pregnancies aren't always so bad,"

"Did your mom have a difficult pregnancy with you?"

"…Not exactly."

She took the hint that he didn't wish to speak about it and remained in silence. At some point, Ernest turned on the radio and a beautiful melody resonated in the car. He explained to her that soothing classical music was good for the unborn baby's development and Sam wanted to swoon. He did his research about pregnancies, despite them being nothing. But they were, somehow. She and her baby had their room in his home and one being built and painted in Ledford. This was real. She and Ernest would be co-parenting despite their history together, and Sam couldn't feel happier. She smiled at him before getting into the hospital's parking and in front of the maternity wing. He opened the door to Samantha and offered courteously his arm, but Sam rejected it with a chuckle "I'm pregnant of almost three months, Ernest, not chronically ill,"

"I know, I just want to show my support… and make sure you don't have any dizziness. Hospitals tend to do that…"

"…Very well then." She took his arm and they both got into the facility, gasps, and whispers everywhere. Some photos being made. But neither of them cared.

"Lady Samantha Foredale?" The nurse called. They both got up and the nurse-led them to the cozy and comfortable room, with a soothing blue with little teddy bears and some promotional photos of breastfeeding and new-borns.

"Doctor," Ernest asked "is it correct that at this rate we will be able to see if it's a girl or a boy?"

"Yes, indeed. This is why today's session is one of the most important… and magical." She winked "Please do ask the questions you need,"

"If Samantha keeps being a healthy expectant, the option of a C-section might be off the list?"

The nurse looked at him as she wandered on her belly "Well, Miss Foredale has the luck to have our best doctors at her disposal and the privilege of a nutritionist controlling what she eats and much more, but even the best doctor cannot predict how the birth might be. It is a spontaneous act. Some of them are long and exhausting, some of them only last twenty minutes and there is barely any pain… birth is complicated to explain. You see, the human body can only endure forty-five unities of pain. When a woman gives birth, the unities increase to fifty-seven unities, which is the equivalent to twenty broken bones." Ernest's eyes went wide "but you needn't worry! Thanks to the evolution in terms of birth and the appearance of the epidural, women suffer much less in birth. Don't worry, sir, she's in the hands of the experts. Some of our doctors are apprentices of the Queen's delivery doctors and nurses, just as the Princes and Dukes of England."

Samantha took his hand and squeezed it "I know I'm safe and in good hands. Believe it too, Ernest,"

"You're the med student, Sam. If I can believe in someone's judgment in health, that's you."

They both smiled before the nurse called their attention and said "Well, Mr. Sinclaire and Lady Samantha… you're going to be parents of a healthy baby girl,"

Sam gasped in delight as Ernest's eyes went wide before smiling, overjoyed " A girl… I don't think I can be happier right now…"

He lifted his hand, wordless permission to touch her belly and feel the kicks of his girl and she nodded, and he gasped at her vivid kicks. "You feel that?"

"I—I do," He beamed.

"By the way, Lady Samantha, may I interest you in ovum donation? You have so many and it could change some women's lives…"

"Dad, we're home and we have news about the baby!" Sam called at her family's attention in the house.

Edmund and Harry rushed to her, just as Dominique and Henrietta, and they all bombarded her with questions about today's appointment. They all knew that it was the gender reveal's day.

"Everyone, leave poor Sam some space! She called for me, after all," Vincent's voice resonated all over the place. They all did as he asked and clasped his hands on hers "So, what will be? A boy? A girl?"

She placed his hand on her belly "A vivid girl, father."

He beamed before hugging her, careful of her belly as Harry congratulated her and Edmund gave her a side hug of his. Grandmother and granddaughter embraced and Henrietta gave her a stiff nod "Better luck next time, I guess."

"Enough, Henrietta. A girl in the family brings the same joy as a boy. We are, after all, in the 21st century. Gender does not matter,"

Henrietta huffed as they all showered her in congratulations, Ernest in a corner, lingering awkwardly. Vincent noticed and they both hugged "You have now two girls with Mills temper. Watch out, old friend." Vincent teased.

Ernest chuckled "I think I can manage just fine with that temper,"

"Now, why don't we speak as we take our tea? Our cook has made some marvelous pastries with whipped cream and honey that you'll simply love…"

Hamid waited patiently on the porch as he checked the hour. He had come early to receive her and leaned on his car, looking good for his dinner with Samantha. She told him over the phone hours ago that she'd be the mother of a girl and he got excited. People always teased him that if he fathered a girl, he'd have to deal with eight women: his mother, his sisters, his future wife, and his future daughter.

He did not mind at all. Sure, he liked the idea of having a boy too – he loved children in general – but he was so used to being around girls and women that sometimes that had caused trouble, but he wouldn't change a single thing of it. He adored his sisters and his mother was an important figure in his life, and he was willing to be a second father to Sam's girl if she chose him. They had gone to dates so far and sneaked a few innocent kisses, careful of paparazzi and her growing belly. She wasn't meant to grow it much until halfway her third month, but everyone had noticed now her belly and had asked her a lot of questions about who was the father and if she wanted to marry the man in question, and the Dowager Countess had handled it flawlessly, though he did tell his mother and elder sister, Nesrim, about the whole situation that he had accidentally drawn attention to Istanbul's newspapers.

Though they argued for hours, they both agreed that Hamid had decided to participate in the baby's life somehow and nothing would change his mind. However, his middle sister Hande had begged him to advise him in nursing a new-born – she had recently triplets, boys to be exact, his new nephews—and was dying to play too part in family's chatters about how pregnancies could be either barely noticeable to torture. His elder sister had now two children: a boy and a girl, his nephew was eight while his niece was six. He video-called them often and they both said that he was the coolest uncle, which boasted greatly his ego – and he had sufficient ego to give to some insecure girls—or at least Sam teased so.

Sam finally came down the small stairs in a floral dress with her small bump showing, a beaming smile on her face. He smiled at her and kissed her hand.

"Shall we, my lady?"

She nodded before she got into the car, driving away to the restaurant he had reserved: the best Turkish restaurant in all of London. It was one of his last chances to show her London before she retired to the countryside to rest for the rest of her pregnancy to avoid stress or drama that some snooty nobles and press wanted to bring. He'd be joining her in his state, just thirty minutes away from Edgewater, but he was excited nonetheless.

This adventure had just begun.

Twenty-one years ago

Mrs. Mary Foredale, Countess of Edgewater, held her toddler daughter in her arms as she had a bit of rest of her restless new-born son, Harry, the girls playing with her dolls. She looked at her "Sammy, my darling, what are you dolls up to?"

"Shh! Ken is going to propose to Barbie!" Little Sam shushed. Mary chuckled before paying attention to the proposal.

Minutes after, Sam reached to sit on her lap as she called her husband "Vincent, love? Oh, he's reunited. When will he come back from work? Oh… I see. Nothing, just tell him that his wife and daughter send him a hug. Right, Sammy?" Sam shouted at the phone.

"I love you, Daddy!" She hung up and Sam looked at her mother questioningly "Mother, why did you marry Papa?"

"Because I loved him. I still do,"

"Then why are you so sad?"

Mary sighed. She knew this day would come. She has prayed that it'd delay a bit longer.

"You see, my girl, love is the biggest and purest source of all. But when one doesn't nurture the plant of love, it will fade away. Your father works so much, and I cannot maintain this plant on my own."

"So… that means that having a husband sucks?"

"It should not. But do one thing for me, my girl, and before you marry, be certain that the man you love is capable of nurturing your little plant of love, or else it shall have grave consequences. Marrying an uncommitted man is an enormous sin that women do all the time. Be wiser than that, my darling Sammy. Promise me."

"I promise, Mom,"

Sixteen years later, Vincent and his two children sat on a hospital chair, weeping silently for the Countess's death. Sam pretended not to notice, but she heard her father whisper angrily to himself "I should have put Mary first. I should have been the husband and father she needed me to be. Now she's dead because of my absence."

That day, Sam learned that you never truly appreciated something until you have let go of it. Right there, the nineteen-year-old woman promised herself that she wouldn't settle down to any man that wasn't willing to nurture every day their love, should that man ever come…

She would not commit her mother's sins.

#playchoices fanfiction #desire and decorum #desire and decorum au #plan b #oc: samantha foredale #ernest sinclaire #prince hamid #earl vincent #mary mills #ernest x oc #ernest x samantha #prince hamid x oc #hamid x samantha #pregnancy au #desire and decorum modern au

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felicia-cat-hardy · 3 years ago

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20 Asian American Musicians To Add To Your Playlist Now

Over the past several years, the K-pop industry in the U.S. has grown exponentially. The fan enthusiasm behind bands like BTS has drawn parallels to The Beatles, and so many K-pop groups have received the same passionate reception. The attention is well-deserved, but Asian artists represent a multitude of musical genres (even just within the K-pop industry) — a fact that should not be overlooked. Whether you're a fan of indie rock, R&B, hip-hop, or dance music, you won't want to sleep on these Asian American musicians.

Asian artists have recently received some long-deserved recognition in the entertainment industry, primarily in film. In 2020, Bong Joon-ho's Parasite won big at the Oscars. The following year, Youn Yuh-Jung won the award for Best Supporting Actress for her work in Minari, which also scored The Walking Dead alum Steven Yeun a nomination for Best Actor. However, there's still plenty of work to be done within the music landscape to ensure equal representation is achieved.

BTS, most notably, has seen unprecedented success in the U.S. Still, despite being invited to attend the last three Grammys, they've yet to take home an award, highlighting the discrepancy between their immense success and the Recording Academy's willingness to acknowledge it. Additionally, Asian artists have a harder time landing record deals. As American Idol alumni Paul Kim explained to The New York Times, he was blatantly told by industry execs he would have been signed to a label faster had he not been Asian.

By streaming these artists, you're not only supporting them and their art, but you're subsequently showing industry insiders just how valuable they are. Consider this list sonic proof Asian artists are making exceptional, diverse music that can't be boxed into one genre or sound. Each of these artists prides themselves on breaking boundaries and creating their own rules. You may have heard of a few, but many have been flying under the radar for far too long. Your ears will thank you soon enough.

Melissa Polinar

Polinar got her start in the late 2000s when viral YouTube covers paved the way for success. While artists like Justin Bieber and Lennon & Maisy were sharing music covers, Polinar focused on posting her original music — and her soulful vocals were a hit. In 2019, the Filipino-American songwriter actually re-recorded one of the songs that propelled her career forward, "Try," on its 10-year anniversary.

Eric Nam

Born and raised in Atlanta, Nam moved to Korea to pursue music because he felt he had a better chance of succeeding there. “Even if you look at American Idol, or X-Factor, or The Voice or anything, it was always difficult to see an Asian or an Asian-American make it to a certain point,” Nam told TIME in November 2019. Today, Nam is a highly visible and respected name in the K-pop industry. While he's very proud of his K-pop success, he considers himself a pop singer first. He hopes to grow his success stateside and told TIME, "I want people to hear my music and say, 'I don’t know who this person is,' and I could be Black, white, Latino, Asian — it doesn’t matter, but it’s just a great pop song."

Clinton Kane

Kane's got every making of a great singer-songwriter, and his lyricism will make a fan out of loyal Ed Sheeran or Sam Smith listeners. The Filipino-American singer's impressive vocal range captivates, and his emotion-driven lyrics will melt your heart. One of his more popular tracks, "Chicken Tendies," has upwards of 2 million views and is a must-add to your heartbreak playlist.

Jhené Aiko

As a mixed-race Japanese, Creole, Dominican, and European woman, Aiko has proudly championed her diverse roots throughout her accomplished career. The R&B singer is a six-time Grammy-nominated artist and is well respected within the industry for her philanthropic endeavors. She launched the WAYS foundation in 2017, an organization dedicated to helping cancer patients and their families.

Steve Aoki

Steve Aoki is hardly a newcomer to the EDM scene, but as one of the most prominent DJs in the industry, and one of the biggest Japanese DJs ever, it would be a crime to leave him off this list. Aoki even has his own record label and, in 2016, Netflix released I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, a documentary about his career.

Karen O

As the lead singer for the rock band Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Karen O has solidified her spot as a rock music legend. Not only is the Korean-American singer's discography with the band a must-listen for any rock music fan, but her 2019 album with Danger Mouse, Lux Prima, earned her a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance.

H.E.R.

Hailing from the San Francisco Bay Area, H.E.R. (aka Gabi Wilson) has become one of the most prominent names in R&B. At just 23 years old, the singer-songwriter already has four Grammy wins and 13 nominations. Along the way, she's never shied away from praising her Filipino mother and Black father, Agnes and Kenny Wilson, for giving her the unique perspectives that propelled her musical success.

Toro Y Moi

Toro Y Moi is actually one person (Chaz Bear) and he's become the unofficial king of chillwave. Born to a Filipino mother, the South Carolina native later relocated to California to further his music career. If you need some chill vibes on your playlist, Bear's got you covered.

Ruby Ibarra

Ibarra is a Filipino-American rapper from San Lorenzo, California who also dabbles in spoken word poetry. Her music is meaningful in more ways than one. A number of her songs touch upon her experience as an Asian American woman. In April 2021, she released a powerful song and video called "Gold" with Ella Jay Basco, which exposed the harmful effects of the skin whitening industry.

Ella Jay Basco

You may recognize Basco from her appearance in Birds of Prey, but her music is not to be slept on because it's making major waves. Her song "Gold" with Ruby Ibarra highlights her Filipino heritage. As she told People, "From top to bottom, we wanted to make sure that our Asian-American community was represented with this project."

Mitski

Meet your new favorite alt-rock queen. Mitski's dreamy melodies appeal to the indie-rock crowd more than anything, and, if you're a sucker for a sad bop, this Japanese-American songstress has plenty of those stacked up.

Yaeji

Yaeji was born in Flushing, Queens in 1993 and grew up between the U.S. and Korea. Since she moved around so much as a kid, she found friendship on the internet, where she first connected with the bossa nova, jazz, and Korean indie music that drove much of the Korean DIY scene. She soon returned to the States to attend college, where she discovered a love for producing and DJing. Now, she meticulously blends hip-hop elements with her house-driven sound for a listening experience that is unlike anything else.

Hayley Kiyoko

Kiyoko has been given the nickname Lesbian Jesus since she’s so outspoken about LGBTQ+ representation in the music industry. The Japanese-American singer is a true trailblazer and her pop music genius has landed her hits with Kehlani, MAX, and AJR.

Jay Park

Park is an industry heavyweight. The Seattle native got his start in the K-pop industry as part of the band 2PM, but he went solo in 2009. Today, not only does the star have dozens of hits under his belt, but he has two record labels of his own that specialize in R&B and hip-hop music: AOMG and H1ghr. Park uses his superstar status to give others the spotlight, and he's put his support behind other artists like GOT7's JAY B and Yugyeom, and Raz Simone. Whether you're a self-proclaimed K-pop stan, or you're just recently getting acquainted with the genre, Park's discography is required listening.

Jin Au-Yeung

Born and raised in North Miami Beach, Florida, the Chinese-American rapper, aka MC Jin, has some seriously impressive accolades under his belt. After becoming popular among his musical peers for his epic freestyles, he was signed to Ruff Ryders in 2002 at just 19 years old, becoming the first Asian American solo rapper to be signed to a major record label in the U.S. He's since parted ways with the label and now travels back and forth between the U.S. and Hong Kong, seeing success in both places. In May 2021, the rapper released a single called "Stop the Hatred" with Wyclef Jean to raise awareness about hate crimes toward Asian Americans amid the coronavirus pandemic.

Olivia Rodrigo

Rodrigo needs no introduction, but I'll do it anyway: This Filipino-American actress-turned-singer-songwriter's mega-hit debut single "drivers license" was unavoidable in January 2021. Its heartbreakingly relatable lyrics about a crush moving on with someone else struck listeners to their core and immediately soared to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. It also went viral on TikTok, before making its way into a Saturday Night Live sketch. Rodrigo's songwriting skills have fans likening her to industry heavyweights like Taylor Swift, so it's no surprise her debut album, Sour, is one of the most highly-anticipated albums of summer 2021.

Run River North

Run River North is not just one musician, but three. The band formerly known as Monsters Calling Home is an indie rock band from Los Angeles. The group has an eclectic sound that draws inspiration from each member: Daniel Chae, Alex Hwang, and Sally Kang.

ZHU

When ZHU first entered the electronic music scene, he used an alias and remained anonymous. By 2014, the artist also known as Steven Zhu was ready to share his identity with the world. ZHU got his start in San Francisco, California, but has made his mark on the EDM scene globally.

Darren Criss

Criss rose to fame starring on the television series Glee and he's since proven himself to be a true triple threat. His work can be seen across TV, film, and music. In September of 2018, Criss became the first Filipino-American to win an Emmy in the lead actor category for his portrayal of Andrew Cunanan in FX's The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story. He’s also got several full-fledged EPs under his belt.

Amber Liu

Amber Liu (also known mononymously as Amber) is of Taiwanese descent and grew up in Los Angeles. She made a big splash when debuting as a member of the K-pop girl group f(x) in September 2009, but has since gone solo. Her 2019 solo track "Other People" racked up millions of streams, and she’s gearing up to drop her first album of 2021, called y?, very soon. In the meantime, she’s continuing to grow her superstar following on social media, where she has 5 million Instagram followers and over 2.3 million on Twitter.

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followusontweeters · 4 years ago

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HenRen the beginning

I can’t be - can I? Hen and Karen meet for drinks.

Karen tugged at her top nervously as she sat at the table in the expensive restaurant. Her heart beat wildly and she fought the urge to run. She liked Hen and that in and of itself terrified her. Karen didn’t like girls, at least not like that. Or at least she didn’t think she did. She couldn’t. She wasn’t raised like that. Her father was a preacher in a Baptist church, her mother was a nurse and taught Sunday school every week. This couldn’t be her. Taking a long sip of the wine she had ordered to calm her nerves, she finally looked up and saw Hen walking towards her. The older woman sat down across from her, her brilliant smile lighting up her face. Her heart leaped again. Fuck.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. My shift went a bit long and then I had to go home and change and then I got caught in traffic.” Hen said quickly.

Reaching out, Karen placed her hand over the other woman’s and gave it a soft squeeze. “It’s fine.” She said softly before pulling her hand back, amazed that there wasn’t an arc of electricity between the two of them. Fuck. Looking down, Karen took a few deep breaths before giving Hen a smile. “I haven’t been here long.” She flagged down the waitress and motioned for another glass of wine to be delivered.

Fingers reached out and ran softly over the lip of the wine glass, gaze avoided.

“Are you okay?” Hen finally asked after her wine came.

Karen looked up and nodded slowly. “Yeah.” Her smile quivered slightly and she shrugged.

They ordered and the nervous energy hung around over them, Karen ordering two more glasses of wine. She wasn’t a drinker, but it seemed to be easier the more alcohol flowed in her veins.

When they left the restaurant, Hen reached for her hand and took it gently, and Karen forgot how to breathe. They walked to a small park and Hen snagged a bench before sitting down and looking at the woman beside her.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

Karen stared at her, eyes wide, fear evident. “Hen...I…” She bit down on her lower lip to stop it from quivering. “I...I’ve never done this.”

Eyebrows furrowed and Hen looked at the younger woman. “Done what exactly?”

“THIS!” The desperation was heavy in Karen’s voice. “This. Us. Two...women.” Her voice ended in a desperate whisper, tears in her voice and welling in her eyes.

“Oh.” Hen looked at the other quietly and reached out and interlaced their hands. “I just thought…” She slid closer, gauging Karen’s reaction. “I’m sorry, but I want to promise you that I will be here for you. If this is something you want, if this is something you feel, I’ll help you through it.”

Karen’s eyes were glued to their hands, silence enveloping them. “I’ve never...felt anything.” She whispered. “With anyone that I dated. I just thought that it was the way that I was built, that I would never…” She shrugged softly. “But...I feel like we have something Hen. I’m not sure what it is because I’ve never had it, but everyone talks about how they feel that thing when they’re with someone they’re attracted to, and I’ve never ever felt like that.”

“Okay,” Hen looked at Karen and waited for her to meet her gaze. “If you feel like that, what’s the problem? Are you scared?”

A nod.

“I understand, Karen.” Hen said softly. “I really do. It’s not like I CHOSE this either, to be a black lesbian woman, but it’s who I am.” She gave the other woman a gentle supportive smile. “You should find out who you are, Karen. I would never push you either way, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that I am attracted to you.”

A flush of her cheeks and a shake in her hands. Karen exhaled slowly through her nose and closed her eyes before opening them again and looking at Hen. She inched closer to her until their thighs touched and Karen turned so they were face to face. Her hand reached out and gently rested on Hen’s face. It was slow, so fucking slow, but Hen was willing to wait. Their lips met, butterfly touches before meeting a bit harder. There should have been sparks flying between them because that’s what it felt like, an electrical charge that would knock out two or three city blocks.

Then, as quick as it happened, Karen pulled away. Her eyes were wide with fear and she jumped back quickly. Getting to her feet, Karen paced, like really paced, around the open space. Hen understood what she was going through and knew that this wasn’t the place that Karen should be to have this existential crisis.

“Did you drive?” Hen asked softly.

Karen shook her head. “I...I don’t live far from here.”

“Then let’s go, you should be somewhere where you feel safe.”

They walked, Hen staying close but giving Karen some space until they arrived at a well kept townhouse, and Karen finally managed to get her key in the door and swing it open. It was clean, organized, smelling of jasmine and vanilla with soft undertones. It was Karen. She toed off her shoes before walking over to the couch and sitting on it, head in hands. Hen followed suit and sat next to her, their knees touching.

“It’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to be who you are. I would never judge you.”

“You’re not the one I’m worried about judging me.” Karen said honestly.

Silence.

“Everyone starts somewhere, Karen.” Hen said gently. “I knew in high school that I liked girls and I was scared. Terrified actually, but I learned. Everyone goes through the same feelings you’re going through now, Karen.”

“Scared?”

“Yes.”

“Confused?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

Hen took Karen’s hands in hers and squeezed them softly. “Karen, you are not alone in this. I am with you every step of the way.”

“What if -” Karen dragged her eyes away nervously and exhaled softly, an errant tear escaping.

“If we just end up being friends? I’ll be here for that too.” Hen finished with a grin. It would kill her if they ended up being just friends and Karen ended up with another woman, but she would support her regardless. She reached out and brushed the tear off her cheek. “No tears now.”

Karen nodded and leaned into her touch. “Thank you, Hen.” She gave her a tight lipped smile before sliding over so their bodies were flush. “Can I kiss you again?”

Hen’s heart exploded into a million pieces and she somehow lost her voice. She nodded gently and melted as their lips touched. Even if they ended up just friends, Hen swore at that moment that she would do everything in her power to protect Karen Baker. The kisses were soft and gentle, almost innocent. Slowly Karen pulled away, her cheeks warm and pink.

“You’re gorgeous.” Hen whispered, afraid to break the bubble that they were both in.

Karen looked up through long dark lashes and flushed.

“What? No one has ever told you that?”

“No.”

“You are. And so incredibly smart and tons of other things but I forgot them because you kissed them out of me.” Hen teased taking Karen’s hand and squeezing it. “I should go. Give you some space.”

Shaking her head, Karen returned the gentle squeeze. “Please stay? I don’t want to be alone.”

She couldn’t say no and Hen nodded.

Karen relaxed and grabbed a remote and turned on the TV. She found Harry Potter playing and rested her head on Hen’s shoulder. Partway through the movie, Hen found herself lying on the couch with Karen’s head on her chest, a blanket thrown over them. She ran her fingers through Karen’s hair gently as she focused on the woman far more than the movie.

There were no words exchanged, there didn’t need to be. It was well past midnight when the movie ended, Karen sleeping restlessly on her chest. The smaller woman finally awoke and blinked heavily. “I gotta big bed.” She mumbled sleepily. “And I can get you a change of clothes.”

It wasn’t a request and Hen nodded as she followed Karen into her bedroom. Karen pulled out a pair of sweats and a shirt before disappearing into the washroom. She emerged a few moments later wearing a pair of pj pants and a tank top. The silence continued as they crawled into the large bed. Hen stayed respectfully on her side until she felt the warmth of another body against her. Turning, she wrapped her arms around the other woman and closed her eyes. She just hoped, and prayed, that they wouldn’t end up just friends.

“Goodnight, Karen.” Hen whispered in the darkness.

Only the soft gentle breathing answered her, but the smaller body tucked itself into her and Hen tightened her grip, praying that one day she would never have to let go.

#911 #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fanfiction #HenRen #karen wilson #Hen Wilson #I know this will never be read because it's not Buck and Eddie #But fuck y'all #HenRen are queens

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precuredaily · 4 years ago

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Precure Day 200

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 Go Go! 02 - “Nozomi and Coco - A Troubling Reunion” Date watched: 4 July 2020 Original air date: 10 February 2008 Screenshots Transformation Gallery Project info and master list of posts

yes, the whole episode is like this

So, full disclosure, the first time I watched GoGo I was kind of only half paying attention to it while I worked on other projects and I don’t remember the overarching plot that well. That may become apparent in my posts about this series. Just something to keep in mind.

If the first episode was a fun but talkative reintroduction to the world, this episode doubles down on the talk and halves the fun. The writing is weak and the art quality is weaker. It still has some heart, and helps to properly set up the conflict of the show, so it’s not a total loss, but these early episodes are missing some of the magic of the previous season. Let’s explore.

The Plot

After a brief recap of the previous episode, the girls admire their new outfits for a moment before snapping back to reality and fighting Scorp. They overpower him with their teamwork and then he declares he’s seen enough for now and leaves. After the dust settles, the girls greet Coco and Nuts and Dream gives Coco her letter, which he half-heartedly accepts and pockets without reading, prompting a silent glare from Nuts. The girls ask what’s going on, and Syrup is still taken aback by the whole ordeal. They regroup at the gazebo at Karen’s mansion for some good old exposition dumping. Nuts explains that the Rose Pact is the key to the Cure Rose Garden, a mysterious place nobody has ever been (so how do the know about it?). The power of the four monarchs of the territories surrounding the Palmier Kingdom is needed in conjunction with the Rose Pact to open the path to the Cure Rose Garden. They further explain why they’re back in the human world: the monarchs were visiting the Pamier Kingdom on a diplomatic mission, when they were attacked by Eternal, and are now hiding in the human world in the form of Palmins.

We cut to Eternal’s headquarters where a purple-haired woman named Anacondy is giving a tour to an unseen but familiar-sounding figure, explaining their corporate mission is to archive every valuable item from all of history (lofty goal). Scorp shows up in her office and explains that he found the Rose Pact, but he was unable to procure it due to the interference of Precure. Suddenly the mystery guest speaks up, admitting he’s scuffled with Precure before, and he is revealed to be none other than Bunbee, preparing for employment at Eternal. He explains how the Precures caused him trouble at his last job, but Anacondy just orders Scorp to go retrieve the Rose Pact with little regard for Bunbee’s words.

Back at the gazebo, the girls start to realize that Eternal is responsible for the attacks on both the Palmier Kingdom and Nozomi, and try to figure out what to do about it. Coco and Nuts need to contact the Palmier Kingdom to let them know what’s going on, so they ask if Syrup will deliver a message. However, due to some obvious friction between him and Coco he declines and flies off, so they focus on finding somewhere to live. Fortunately, Karen has just the place.

Some things never change

It’s not clearly established what happened to the old Natts House location, unless they explain it down the road in future episodes, but this is the new home base, and of course once again Karen presents it as a “small” spare warehouse her family owns, only for the others to protest that it’s bigger than their entire homes. Is it the same gag from last year? Yes. Does it still land? Also yes.

Anyway, the girls want to help tidy up the place, but Coco pushes them away and insists he and Nuts can handle it. That night, Nozomi is standing on her balcony in her pajamas, looking sad, when Syurp pays her a visit to chastise Coco’s behavior. She angrily defends his honor and slams her curtains closed, startling Syrup. Back at Natts House 2.0, Coco and Nuts take a break from cleaning to exposit some more, recalling a story about how the Cure Rose Garden produces both red and blue roses, and a new power emerges when they meet. Nuts surmises that the Rose Pact contains the power of the Red Rose, but isn’t sure what the Blue Rose is. The conversation shifts to their presence back in the human world, with Coco feeling guilty for dragging the girls into the conflict again, while Nuts reminds him that he wanted to see them anyway so he should make the most of his opportunity.

At a later day at Cinq Lumieres we see that Coco has resumed teaching under the guise of Kokoda Kouji. Things are still awkward between him and Nozomi, but she meets him in the library and they have a talk. He acknowledges her letter and her feelings, but stops short of telling her how he’s feeling. Syrup shows up and talks shit about Coco, who just gets sad again, but before they can talk things out, Scorp appears. Coco attempts to de-escalate the situation, but Scorp isn’t interested in chatter and he knocks all three of them back, reverting Coco and Syrup to their fairy forms. Nozomi takes a moment to give Coco the Rose Pact, instructing Syrup to carry him away to safety, and then she transforms. This time, Scorp doesn’t fight on his own, instead he pulls out a yellow and orange orb that he throws into a nearby bookcase, transforming it!

Yes, these are our monsters of this show, called Hoshiina, which means “want” or “desire”. Cure Dream fights the Hoshiina, but it uses books as shields and whips and manages to throw her around. Coco approaches her, not having run away yet, and unloads his emotions on her, explaining how he feels guilty about dragging her back into the conflict, and inadvertently tormenting her by not communicating because he wanted to wait and show off the fully rebuilt Palmier Kingdom to her. She thanks him for being so concerned, and then the other girls turn up, having heard the commotion. They transform and so does Scorp. and they duke it out over Coco’s honor and intentions. Between blows they reiterate that they want to go to the Cure Rose Garden, they decided that themselves without his influence so he shouldn’t feel guilty, but they still want him to lend his power to make it possible to get there. The Hoshiina puts up a good fight with some diverse tactics, but the girls don’t lose faith and they manage to pin it down. Dream implores a relieved Coco that she wants them all to go to the Cure Rose Garden together, and then launches into her all-new finisher: Precure Shooting Star, where she flies directly into the Hoshiina, destroying it. Scorp flees.

Later, Nozomi and Coco have a heart-to-heart outside the library where he says he really appreciated the letter, but he isn’t sure what he can do to help them. Right on cue, Nuts shows up and explains what they CAN do: detect Palmins! There’s one nearby, and Coco guides Nozomi into catching it in the CureMo by taking a picture.

The girls all gather round to see what she captured, and it turns into.... a futon. Coco explains that there’s different kinds of Palmins, they’re not all disguised monarchs, but they may be useful down the road so it’s not a loss. They vow once more to find all the monarchs and go to the Cure Rose Garden together, as Syrup watches from a distance, still a little confused by their togetherness.

The Analysis

Credit where it’s due. In stark contrast to Max Heart, which had no idea what to do for a plot and just kind of meandered about for the majority of its run, GoGo is hitting the ground running. It has clearly and effectively established the objective (reach the Cure Rose Garden to meet Flora while rescuing the four monarchs along the way) and the conflict (Eternal, the company that wants to preserve everything). In fact I might even say there’s too much plot crammed into these premiere episodes. You’re absolutely inundated with information and it’s a lot to absorb, whereas the first series spread its exposition out over all the character introductions. GoGo could stand to slow down a little, and I think episode 3 still has more to give us yet. A lot of the middle of the episode is taken up with explaining who the villains are, how Coco and Nuts got back, and some private conversation about Precure’s new powers. The Precure were upgraded with the power of the Red Rose from the Cure Rose Garden, and the legend says the garden also grows blue roses. The audience has probably deduced that the mysterious girl in the opening has something to do with that, but I’m still going to pretend I don’t know about Milky Rose for a bit.

The dialog at least feels more natural in this episode, but it’s contrasted with the tension between Coco and Nozomi, which I don’t think was necessary except to add a little conflict. However, I can see the reasoning behind it. He cares deeply about Nozomi and everyone and he didn’t want to drag them back into his and Nuts’s battle, he wanted them to continue to be ordinary girls living their ordinary lives, worrying about school and their hobbies and interests. He feels like it’s his fault they’ve transformed again whether they wanted to or not. However, Nozomi and the others explain they want to go to the Cure Rose Garden and are more than happy to help Coco and Nuts out along the way. Knowing that they don’t feel burdened by him helps put Coco’s mind at ease and he cheers the girls on. From the real-world writers’ perspective, it’s a pretty stark reversal of his personality from the first season and as I suggested, is probably there to have some drama. Normally Nuts is the moody one, but his character arc last season was all about opening up and being helpful and taking things in stride, so now it’s Coco’s turn to be the dramatic one, though in his case it’s based on concern rather than past betrayal. They seem to have resolved it in this episode, we’ll see whether it carries forward or not. However, there’s still a lingering mystery about his past with Syrup, as the latter seems to resent him, and that will definitely carry us for a bit.

The fights in this episode are great, especially the second one. The first is brief but to the point, filled with dynamic team kicks to throw Scorp off his rocker. The later fight is for all the marbles, and the fairies get caught in the crossfire. It’s a struggle but the girls come out on top with the strength of their convictions and some fast thinking. Despite being a few months since they’ve been at it, clearly the girls haven’t gotten rusty. If anything they’re faster than before, or maybe that’s just the early animation budget. It’s evenly balanced between physical and ideological fighting as the girls try to convince Coco that they’re not upset at him, and explain to Scorp why they care about Coco. The Hoshiina is pretty creative for a first enemy, using books as swords, whips, shields, arms, and legs at different times. It spins itself around at high speeds to avoid attacks and gives the girls a good fight. For their part, they use a lot of flying punches and kicks to wear it down and Dream gets in a particularly good one-two combo before her finisher. Speaking of which: Dream’s new solo attack! I liked Dream Attack and its successor Crystal Shoot, but Shooting Star is next level. She FLIES DIRECTLY INTO THE ENEMY? It’s like Five Explosion but as a solo attack and it’s totally badass. We’ll get to see more of the others’ attacks in the coming episodes, of course. Once again it’s a while before they get their group attack, so enjoy the solos.

The artwork this episode is, unfortunately, laughably bad. I mean come on it’s only episode 2, you’re not supposed to have the super off-model shots until later in the show. And yet....

These faces are laughable. Misshapen, disproportionate, or just blank stares. It’s not the entire episode but it’s present at key moments throughout and it takes away from the experience. I looked ahead and actually Milky Rose’s debut is also pretty bad so maybe they were in a rush with the early part of this show.

Now, it wouldn’t be Precure without some good old fashioned merchandising, and we’ve got a brand spanking new toy to sell in the Curemo! The extended sequence of Coco walking Nozomi through the process of capturing a Palmin is also promotion for kids to buy the toy and see what they can do with it. It’s a little fancier than the Pinky Catch from last year, taking the form of a pink flip phone, but it also has a swivel hinge, similar to the Heartful Communes from Max Heart.

The top of it has a grid design with depictions of the five butterflies of the Palmier Kingdom, and on the lower left is an emblem of a rose. When it’s opened, it has a blue-green screen surrounded by pink, and the body where the keyboard would be just has three buttons, shaped like a rosebud and two leaves, and some stem designs etched in beneath that. It’s a much more involved toy than the Pinky Catch, at least visually, and I’m here for it. While the Pinky Catch could only open and close, the CureMo also has a rotating screen as mentioned, which lays into the capture gimmick. The user rotates the screen sideways and snaps a picture of the Palmin, similar to a real cell phone, which is then scanned into the device and turns into its true form. It looks neat and it compacts nicely, blends into their world well, so I think it’s effective as a device. I do find it funny how heavily the Palmin capture is emphasized and how blatantly similar it is to last season’s Macguffin quest, but that’s the business, I’m not going to dwell on it too much.

Despite some major hiccups after a bumpy premiere, GoGo 02 is still a pretty good episode overall. The characters are starting to settle into their new roles and we’re learning about the conflict. If the animation smooths out then the show will be off to a strong start.

Next time, Mailpo appears! What’s a Mailpo? Wait and find out! Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 2 kettei!

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Yes! Precure 5 Go Go!#YPC5GG02 #PCD200

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daresplaining · 5 years ago

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[ID: Excerpt from Bendis’s Daredevil run. Matt Murdock and Milla Donovan are alone in Matt’s office at Nelson & Murdock, talking.]

Milla: “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. But I-- I just couldn’t think of any way to approach you other than this.”

Matt: “It’s just that you are mistaken about my being Daredevil. That story just isn’t--”

Milla: “I can’t stop thinking about what happened the other day. When you saved me from that truck-- it really... I mean, I know you are in situations like that... every day... but I am not. Nothing like that has ever-- This is hard to say out loud... The whole situation-- It-- it had an effect on me that I can’t describe. I can’t describe to you why I came down here. I have never done anything like this before and I certainly have never spoken to someone-- Someone I don’t know-- Like this before... In fact, even with you pretending that it wasn’t you as Daredevil who saved my life... this is as intimate a conversation I have had with a man since college. ...I just need to speak with you again. To-- Thank you for saving me. Hmm... This-- this is very embarrassing. I’m going to go.”

Matt: “What do you do, Milla?”

Milla: “What do I do?”

Matt: “For a living.”

Milla: “I work at the Hell’s Kitchen Housing Commission.”

Matt: “You find poor people a place to live...”

Milla: “And we do a lot of environmental testing. Lead and soil. You wouldn’t believe how some people have to live.”

Matt: “Milla... Do you see a logic in that even if, let’s say, I had been the one that [...] tossed you into that clothing store-- Do you see how I wouldn’t be able to tell you that? Do you see how admitting something like that would be very... dangerous for me and for you.”

Milla: “Do you eat food? [...] Would you like to... have dinner with me tonight?”

Matt: “Milla, I can’t take responsibility for you."

Milla: “I’m sorry?”

Matt: “This tabloid mess I’m in. With everyone thinking I’m Daredevil. It’s created a situation around me where no one is really, truly safe. Everyone who works in this office. Everyone in my life-- as long as there’s this feeling that I might be Daredevil... There are people-- vulgar people who could-- I just can’t take responsibility for you.”

Milla: “Hmm, well... Are we still talking hypothetically?”

Matt: “Oh, yes.”

Milla: “Well, hypothetically, can you imagine a situation where a girl, like myself, might have known all about this before sucking up the courage to walk in here and approach someone, like you, like this? The way I see it-- a girl doing all that is clearly taking responsibility for herself. I don’t live in fear. It is funny how you immediately took my responsibility on yourself... But I guess that’s a topic we could talk about over dinner.”

Matt: “Can I think about it?”

Milla: “Sure. But just for the record... I never mentioned anything about a clothing store.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #43 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

I hesitated about posting this whole scene because it’s long, particularly when transcribed (Bendis really loves dialogue), but I decided that cutting it up or condensing it would be doing it too much of a disservice. It’s a great scene, and there’s a lot going on, and I wanted to include all of it.

Part of what I like so much about Milla is how ordinary she is. This is true of many other Daredevil side characters as well, but always only to a certain degree. Karen Page is a successful and glamorous actress for a while. Heather Glenn is a wealthy heiress. Glori O’Breen is a revolutionary. Dakota North is a supermodel-turned-private eye. Rosalind Sharpe is... Rosalind Sharpe. Kirsten McDuffie comes close, but there is still something polished about her-- her effortless snark, her ability to kick butt when needed. There’s nothing wrong with this-- I love it, in fact (see my thoughts on Glori’s character development in particular), but it is the nature of many non-superhero characters in superhero media to still feel slightly larger than life, and so it’s nice to find one who is more down-to-earth.

Another major factor in this is the use of perspective. Matt is the protagonist, and thus we see (“see”) most of his co-stars from his point-of-view. We are in his head, experiencing their behavior. This is particularly true of his romantic interests-- yes, we see scenes of them doing things on their own, but for the most part, the lens of Matt’s perspective and knowledge is always present. But Milla is engaging because-- while we do spend a good amount of time in Matt’s head when she is around-- there are some very hefty scenes in which we are made clearly aware of Milla’s perspective too. Her introductory scene takes place before she has even met Matt (thus, we know her better than he does), and their first meeting is much more from her point-of-view that it is from his. We watch her experience that encounter, and we see the effect it has on her even though Matt does not. This is followed up by a very candid scene of Milla awkwardly discussing her interest in Daredevil with a friend, who laughingly teases her about it. Again, we are getting to know Milla on her own, separate from Matt. Bendis excels at crafting characters who feel real-- partly through, yes, his dialogue, which breaks many of the dialogue-writing conventions but does so in a way that, when it works, makes his characters sound extra genuine. We see Milla’s infatuation, her discomfort, and that makes it very easy to feel for her and identify with her, because even if we haven’t all had a crush, or tried to ask a superhero out on a date, we have all had embarrassing interactions with people, and this leads us to root for her.

All of this carries over into the pivotal above scene, in which Milla insinuates herself into Matt’s office and asks him if he eats food out on a date. I love this scene for a whole list of reasons.

1. It’s super awkward. I mean, it gets better, but a person walking up to someone they’ve never officially met and thanking them for saving their life while the other person repeatedly insists that they did no such thing is going to be awkward no matter what, and Bendis makes the excellent decision of leaning into that reality rather than trying to soften it. It says a lot about Milla’s personality that in spite of this awkwardness, she still goes through with this and says what she came to say, and I then love her extra-humanizing “Hmm... this is very embarrassing. I’m going to go” when Matt just wordlessly stands there. (I also love “What do you do?” “What do I do?” Bendis is a master of this style of conversational humor.) They are both super uncomfortable, which causes us to sympathize with them, places them on equal footing, and makes the rest of the scene-- when they manage to work through the awkwardness-- all the more satisfying.

2. It undercuts Matt’s secret identity angst. We all (I assume) love Kirsten McDuffie’s playful handwaving of Matt’s insistence that he isn’t Daredevil, and this scene is the spiritual predecessor to all of that. Milla is convinced that Matt is Daredevil-- so convinced that she has put herself in this uncomfortable position to talk to him about it-- and so she has no interest in even acknowledging his denials. She just ignores them. And it’s really funny. It has been said before (on this blog, and elsewhere) that Milla exists in this arc as the anti-Daily Globe. She figures out his secret identity and the results are positive. Matt has spent issues denying, arguing, scrambling to defend himself against prying journalists eager to lay his secrets bare, and then in strolls Milla with “I know you’re Daredevil, and I’m taking you out to dinner.” And then she gets that smooth calling of his bluff on her way out the door, which is just... fantastic.

3. “I don’t live in fear”. And of course, we get one of Milla’s biggest character-defining pieces of dialogue. In some ways, it’s fairly standard-- Milla has a backbone, she isn’t frightened by the idea of hanging out with a superhero, and “I don’t live in fear” is an obvious reference to Matt’s own “Man Without Fear” epithet. But it’s a great, empowering speech, and it feels important. It gives Milla control in this conversation, and more than that, it gives her control in the relationship. She has chosen to seek Matt out, she has chosen to ask him out, and she has done it with the knowledge that it might not be safe. As the story goes on, we get the sense that whatever understanding she might have thought she had wasn’t quite accurate-- that she has definitely gotten in over her head. But in this moment, in this scene, it’s a powerful statement of intent and a comment on her character-- as a civilian, as a blind woman, and as a Daredevil love interest who is stepping into a legacy that’s drenched in blood. And I appreciate the facial expressions that Maleev gives Matt. You can tell that he is completely smitten with her, and that this speech has floored him. It’s fun to see him in this position, and it builds a strong grounding for the rest of their relationship.

I could go on. The artistic choice of placing a flowy, sensual painting behind Milla versus a closed window behind Matt was clearly intentional. I love the implication in the last panel that Foggy and Jessica were listening through the door. “Do you eat food?” always makes me laugh. This is one of my favorite Milla scenes, and with this creative team there’s always more to dissect.

#Daredevil vol. 2 #Daredevil #Milla Donovan #Matt Murdock #Commentary #Milla Appreciation Day #Looong post. Dammit Bendis.

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girllovescomic · 4 years ago

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An analysis of our OTP as we go toward the end

With the help of Karen Ly (Twitter), I found this post on Weibo and Google translated it. I think this really encapsulate what I think of both characters

After watching the 60~63 episodes, my dissatisfaction with the plot has calmed down a bit, not only because the appearance of the king in these episodes is too high (this is the main reason, it is really love every frame of every line) , Also because the behavior logic of most characters can be explained. I think the Hulan episode of 58~59 broke so badly because the changes in Helan Zhen couldn't convince me at all. It was not like he could do it.

Let me talk about Xiao Qi first. Since the battle of Neem Hayama, I have been thinking about his return. I know it will be good, but it is better than I imagined again. Has Xiao Qi changed? Yes, it is not. Xiao Qi is a person with extremely strong inner world and self-awareness. He has gone all the way from the Cambrian to an extremely human minister. No matter how the outside world changes, he can hardly shake his self-constructed spiritual world. He knew exactly what he wanted along the way. He was a hero with the world in mind. Power and status were never the goals he pursued, but the means to help him achieve his ideals, so neither threat nor temptation would let him shake. This is why Wang Lin said that he always looked at people accurately, but he misunderstood Xiao Qi. After all, this son-in-law is not a mortal. From the time when he entered Beijing to be the king to the Lianyu Mountain Incident, Xiao Qi's attitude towards the royal family and the nobles of the Manchu clan was always neither humble nor overbearing, courteous and courteous. After being aware of the emperor’s scruples about his merits, he took the initiative to resign. . He is always smart, sober and restrained. After the return, he did not accept the order twice, and the face of the king did not worship the palace with the sword. He was arrogant and domineering, watching the world, just like the two of the past restraint and forbearance. But when Xiao Qi, who had restrained his modesty at the beginning, could ever afford these nobles? Today, he just didn't hesitate to hide his contempt and anger, for the sake of the dead Ning Shuo soldier, and for his ideals and beliefs. Xiao Qi is a person who has always acted in accordance with his inner rules, and this has never changed. In the past, he thought that by being close to the center of power, he could better realize the ideal of guarding his family and protecting the country and allowing the people to live and work in peace. After Xie Shouzheng's corruption incident and close talks with Zilong, he has realized that the corruption of the court and the family is a chronic disease. It is difficult to heal, so the meaning of retreat was born. Xiao Qi before Lian Yushan should be struggling. Although returning to Ningshuo was far away from the power struggle, he could only keep one side of the country safe and farther away from his great cause. The tragedy of Mt. Neem changed everything. The moment God of War, Xiao Qi, looked hollow and confused. In addition to his extremely overdrawn body, there was probably a collapse of faith and despair of the country and court he tried to protect.

The next few episodes are completely depressive. Xiao Qi is silent. In a one-man show with almost no lines, he cried silently. He galloped in the wilderness, he looked up at the sky in the courtyard, he was by the river. Pressing his forehead lightly against the horse, he grieves, angers, reflects, reconstructs his will, and strengthens his determination to revenge. The accumulated power reaches people's hearts through the screen. With such a layer upon layer of progressive paving, the outbreak after the return is extremely hearty. Xiao Qi came back, and he couldn't get through according to your rules in the past, so just follow my rules and see if any of you has the ability to stop me.

Similarly, the scenes after the return were progressive. When they were refused entry into Ningshuo City, they lowered their stance, were polite and courteous, and had a sincere attitude. When they saw Ningshuo soldiers swearing allegiance to the death, it was hard to hide their excitement. The voice choked for a while, this was the first emotional vent since Neem Yushan suppressed Yin Ren. When I saw Wyen (I love this scene very much, I repeatedly brushed it), the short conversation undercurrents surged and was extremely wonderful. Xiao Qi's eyes staring at Wyan were a little bit probing at first (want to see how many shadows there were in Wyan in the past), and gradually became cold (are you here to welcome me or stop me), and then became threatening and provocative ( Who will do it this time, is it you, Su Yibo), mentioning that Guanglie and Soldier Ningshuo are uncontrollable anger (this is the second emotional vent), and then return to calm, the disappointment and steel The same unchangeable will is chilling. I always felt that Liu Duanduan's interpretation was a bit too much, but this scene was also excellent, and the process of Wyan's inner anxiety, hesitation, and final break was very complete.

This period of entering the city was another highlight moment, and the whole confrontation was relaxed, and it was repeated several times. Personally, my favorite is the body language of the king in this scene, which is really domineering every time he raises his hand and turns around. Hearing the order to accept the order, he slightly leaned over to help the grandmother who was about to kneel down, stepped forward slowly, stopped sideways, and took the order, resolutely and beyond doubt. A few actions have made people see the aggressive attitude of King Yuzhang after his return. He just wants to clearly tell the emperor and these officials that his patience has been exhausted, and he will not leave them half face or give them any more. They stayed a little bit of retreat until the truth was found out and the real murderer came to the rescue. After Ma San arrived, he seemed to be holding a low posture, but in fact he was always in front of him. The connotation of his words is that Xiao Qi led soldiers to threaten the monarchy, committing chaos (you bring 100,000 soldiers, I will agree to anything you want), and put yourself in morals The commanding heights place Xiao Qi unrighteous, thereby confuses the public and avoids Xiao Qi's questioning of Lian Yushan. The confrontation was pushed to the apex when he said "Fight against me until King Yu Zhang is satisfied". At this time, Xiao Qi still looked directly at Ma San, his eyes were not evasive, but he took a deep breath that was hardly noticeable. , Looked up slightly, he was suspicious and inquiring about Ma San, and the anger at him for putting himself here was expressed vividly and vividly in this slight look up. After Wang Su quickly handed everyone a step and got a promise that he could self-check the truth, he took the opportunity to give in, bowed his head, and the confrontation ended. The rhythm of the subtleties is too good.

Talking about entering the hall in white, all the restraints in the front have been pave the way for the most heartfelt lift. As he approached the throne step by step, he was like an angry lion, showing the air of a king. Ma San was forced by such a momentum, his eyes were evasive, and his inner fear was self-evident. Here is an interruption of Wyan's eyes, which are worship, shock, and loss. He probably realized that he would never be able to surpass Xiao Qi. Then, it came to the monologue on Xiaoqi Hall. This paragraph kicked me to the bottom of the pit and never wanted to come out again. This third emotional catharsis directly pushed the contradictions to the peak. The anger, grief, and contempt for the nobles since Mt. Neem poured out like a rainbow, and finally received a meaningful look in front of the throne. At that time, he was as dangerous as a black panther waiting for an opportunity.

Should such Xiao Qi be proclaimed emperor? There are many voices on the Internet questioning that Xiao Qi’s retreat is the "heart of the Father" and the collapse of human design. I think this is a simple and rude categorization in the Internet age. The term "personal design" is even more annoying. How can the complexity of human nature be summed up with a simple facial makeup? Everything needs to be viewed in the context of an era. Monarchs and ministers are the head of the five Confucian ethics. The usurpation of the king and the killing of the emperor must be a shame in the history books. Even big ambitious people like Cao Cao have scruples. Need to hold the emperor to make the princes. The founding emperors who have changed dynasties in the past have all found various so-called apocalypses and signs to prove that the previous dynasties are exhausted. For Xiao Qi, a hero who takes the responsibility of defending his family and the country and has the world in his heart, he should not be easy to make such a choice. This is not the so-called Father's Heart, nor loyalty, but is restricted by the value system of that era. Of course, Xiao Qi is by no means a pedantic person, otherwise there would be no such thing as instigating many feudal vassals to ask for the gift of nine tins. The key is to see what he ultimately wants to achieve. For a person like him who follows his inner rules, I am curious how Zhou Yiwei will perform and convince us of his final choice.

Let's talk about Awu. Although I still feel that many details of the plot cannot withstand scrutiny, the direction of the character Awu is generally logical. First of all, Awu is not an ordinary woman. She has independent self-awareness and values. The love between her and Xiao Qi is based on the mutual attraction of two independent personalities. The other party. Such a woman naturally has a bigger pattern. She understands Xiao Qi's ideals. She was born in a family and was perfectly protected since she was a child. She didn't realize the taste of betrayal until she was involved in her father's plot and trade as a pawn. I think a drama review I watched before is very well written, to the effect that Awu’s noble spiritual world makes her not disdain to participate in the conspiracy, or even hate those who hurt her (such as Su Jin’er, more It is disgust, that she is a poor person). She hated her for the first time when she thought that He Lanzhen killed Xiao Qi. Xiao Qi is her bottom line, so she will do everything she can to die with him. Regarding the queen mother, after guessing that the emperor's uncle was murdered by her, Awu kept alienating her; after returning to Beijing, she felt compassionate when she saw the tragedy of the queen mother. This is also very controversial on the Internet, but after all, the layout of Neem Hayama has not been fully investigated, and it is understandable to have pity for the aunt who watched him grow up. (Of course, I didn't convince myself too much. There were still omissions in the plot. Ordinarily, she and Xiao Qi should be able to see the role of the queen mother). To Ma San, she was shocked to a large extent. After all, she grew up with her childhood sweetheart. She probably couldn't believe that he had become like this. She chose not to tell Xiao Qi not because she wanted to let Ma San go, but because she didn't think about what the consequences of this incident would be, and how this consequence would affect Xiao Qi and the situation in the world. So I don’t think that the hostess is overwhelmed by the heart of the Virgin. Her response to these people is different, and the way of coping is also considered according to different situations. Regarding the truth about Neem Yushan, she did have a disagreement with Xiao Qi. In the play, she mentioned letting go twice, one was when she went to Beijing to talk at home after returning to the government, hoping that Xiao Qi would not kill more after finding out the truth; Bian, asked Xiao Qi if he could put aside the things in front of him and live his own life. Two times, Xiao Qi didn't agree, he never gave her a promise that she couldn't make (here again). I think it is reasonable to think this way from the perspective of Auntie. First of all, she could not fully understand Xiao Qi’s brotherhood of life and death towards Ning Shuo’s soldiers. Second, she could not fully understand Xiao Qi’s pain and hatred unless he had personally experienced the affairs of Yushan. (On this matter, probably only Hu Yao Understand the king, please refer to See the eyes of the king and Hu Yao reuniting). So I think that although Ah Wu can understand Xiao Qi's ideals of the world on a large scale, he does not fully understand Xiao Qi's will and determination to revenge. She is afraid of the prospect of the rain coming, she is afraid of losing Xiao Qi, and also afraid that Xiao Qi will go on the road of murdering the king for revenge, and even more afraid of the bloody wind that will follow, which change of dynasty in history It didn't come by walking on the sea of blood. However, this disagreement does not mean that the love between 57 has faded. In fact, their lives have been more deeply blended together (Auntie said, you are the most important person in my life; Xiao Qi said, to you never change). Auntie chose to stand with Xiao Qi on key matters. For example, when she entered Beijing, she refused to help Wang Yu persuade Xiao Qi, and followed Xiao Qi twice to bow down. (Here I want to emphasize the background of the times and not follow the rule of the monarch Ceremony is to pretend to be a big deal). He loves her, so he understands and tolerates her care for the family to the greatest extent; she loves him, even if she does not fully understand, she will respect his choice. This is the love between adults without blood.

Other characters who have the same acting online include the prime minister who is always conscientious in his career, and the queen mother who has hysteria to get up and pull his enemies into the water, finally wakes up to the elder brother who is firm in his career, and even the black line of love and brains, Ma San, their wonderful makes My resentment for the first episode of Hulan has fallen, and I moved a small bench to wait for the last 5 episodes...

#Analysis #characters #monarch industry #the rebel princess #Zhou Yi Wei #Zhang Ziyi

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onelastbreath-writes · 4 years ago

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On Bruce And Texting:

Author’s Note: Hello and welcome, this is my first properly written fic, originally posted to my AO3, and now that I have finally created a writing blog, it’s here as well. Please enjoy!! AO3. Masterlist

Warnings: Hopefully none, its all cute and fluff <3

Summary: Bruce Wayne texts like he's sending correspondences to the Queen, so of course the little monsters he calls children just have to make fun of him! Brats, the lot of them, but he wouldn't have them any other way.

Features: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, all the bats and birds, mentions JL, no crime fighting, only family fluff, jokes and nods to Millennial and GenZ shenanigans.

Word Count: 2.7k

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Billionaire, genius, tech expert, father of many children, and all around up-to-date-with-just-about-everything type of person he may be, it is also a well-known Fact that Bruce Wayne, the Batman(TM) himself, can’t text to save his life.

Whether it’s due to his Very Proper English Upbringing, his inability to be informal via written correspondences of any type, his indifference, or the fact that it bothers his children so much, Bruce Wayne has not and never will text with anything less than perfect grammar, spelling, and formality. If he has not sent you a proper letter (featuring a dedication, indentation for every paragraph, signature, and post-script when applicable), he did, in fact, not send you that text. Informality is not his Batman Way(TM) according to his children... he’s not too sure what that even means, but it makes his young ones laugh so it’s probably fine?

His oldest children (Richard and Jason) were raised in the time of Change, where computers, internet access, social media, and all things similar were only just being introduced into households en-masse. They were young enough to remember a time without such devices and connectivity (both for very different reasons, of course, but they grew up without the newest technology none-the-less). They could understand his relationship to the digital environment more so than his younger children, but they still tended to poke fun at his ‘texting blunders’ regularly. All his kids somehow ended up as brats. He doesn’t know how this happened. It’s certainly not his fault. He blames the League members, and especially Clark Kent, for their defiant personalities.

His younger children, whom he loves dearly, like to confuse him as much as they possibly can with their slang, egregious spelling errors, and all-around ‘internet humour’. He doesn’t know what ‘wig’ or ‘worm’ or ‘oof’ or anything means. He has no idea what those dances are, or how they relate to the music that seems to always accompany them, and for the love of all that is good, don’t ask him what he thinks of this or that ‘meme’. What even is a ‘meme’, and should he be more concerned about his kids being obsessed with them? He tries, oh my god, does he try to follow the children’s conversations, but they somehow all learned a language he has no idea how to decrypt. His best response to them once they start speaking in tongues is as follows: smile but not too much, listen to child even though he is deeply confused, and pat child on head or shoulder when they are finished and are looking for assurance.

He refuses to be a parent who ignores or tunes out his children, so he always makes sure to put down his work, his crossword, his tools, or whatever else is in his hands when a child searches him out for a conversation. But somehow, despite all the time he spends around them and their strange words, when he gets text from them comprised of abbreviations, acronyms, and completely random words, he goes a little cross eyed. He would never tell anyone, but he keeps a running list on his phone about the things they say that he has had to translate in the past. Spilling tea? Speaking the truth, usually to do with gossip. Wow? Multiple possible meanings: either a video game, or someone saying it (different pronunciation depending on context and who sent the text). Stickbug? A nice little prank with no ulterior motives, just for fun. Something along the lines of “this basic bitch Karen at the grocery store who is a dirty rat-licker and is def an anti-vaxxer just took 45 (forty-five) minutes to decide she didn’t actually want that almond milk. I Stan the cashier who had to put up with her. Rad af dude.” roughly translates to “A rude, middle-aged white woman who wasn’t wearing a mask and doesn’t believe in disease control or vaccinating her children wasted a great deal of an essential worker’s time in the checkout line. The cashier was very professional in their dealings with said customer and should be commended on their actions.”

Given enough time, the internet for searching up new slang words, and occasionally some help from a friend (Alfred, Selina, Lucius, another of his children, etc), Bruce could decode and respond appropriately to most texts. He was quite proud of these achievements, and although he didn’t always like how often his children were on their phones or computers or gaming systems, he was quite proud of how integrated and easily they adapted to the ever-evolving world of electronics. All his kids were gifted in many ways, but their ability to learn, their hunger for knowledge, and their perseverance when exploring new and challenging ideas were always the things that he was most impressed by.

He could do without their comments though. Yes, surprisingly, he did manage to get girlfriends with his type of texting. No, he doesn’t miss the ‘good old days’ when telegraphs were the main form of long-distance correspondence (how old do these brats think he is?!). And yes, he does know what a “tweet” is, and how to “post” on his social media accounts, and what “sliding into your DMs” is (thanks to a frantic search after a WE employee mentioned it near him). The Wayne children, truly whom and what Bruce considers his pride and joy, are cruel little jerks to him sometimes. His hoard of parenting books fails to mention what one should do when their children gang up on them. Bullying is covered of course, but he can’t really talk to a teacher or his guardian about how his second son calls him an idiot sandwich, or that his third son regularly tries to get him to do something “For The Vine”. His oldest and youngest boys are only slightly better in the bullying him department; Richard and his puppy dog eyes when he wants to do something dangerous or not-Alfred-approved, and Damian and his growing collection of pets because “Mother never let me have them, and I am deprived, and don’t you love me Father?”.

His only good child is his beautiful daughter Cassandra, the flower of the Wayne clan. She gives him hugs, and pats his hands, and can sit with him and just enjoy the quiet and stillness when his other children are not around. Her language skills are improving by leaps and bounds every day, and her heart and spirit are unparalleled, but her main method of communication is in her movements. Her hands, her posture, her dancing; Bruce couldn’t think of a more graceful, fluid, powerful person if the world depended on it. His amazing little girl doesn't bully him (and if she ever does, he probably deserves it, he trusts her), so he turns to her most of all when it comes to communicating with someone else. She doesn’t let him send anything that is “sketchy” or “wrong words, bad meaning, Dad”. He would give the world to his children, but for Cassandra, he would destroy it and build her an entirely new one.

Social media, especially with his terrible children all having accounts dedicated to making him look like a simpleton, was another rocky terrain he had to navigate on the regular. He had professionals in place at WE to run the company’s many accounts, paid top dollar to help appeal and relate to the masses, but he mostly had to manage his personal accounts himself. And so, @TheRealBruceWayne was one of the greatest struggles in his adult life. Why can’t he just retweet every post from @WE_Offical and leave it at that? People should only want to know about what’s new with the company. What do you mean they want to know more about our family and private lives? That’s unnecessary, and not important to the running of the company, right? Right? Why are you laughing?!

Luckily, most people in his life aren’t so intimately aware of his struggles. He can act and lie all he wants about being “hip” and “woke” and whatever else the kids are saying these days when he’s with the JL or in board meeting intermissions, networking with his associates. The Batman knows all and sees all, Green Lantern, of course he understands how “Tiktok” works. The Batman is a robot without a funny bone in his body, Green Arrow, but I did witness him sigh and say “same” when he knocked his cup of coffee over while on monitor duty once. No matter how badly his darling children call him out, the Justice League would be so much worse. So, it’s one of his most importantly guarded secrets... even more so than his secret identity at this point. Being unmasked in front of every Gotham rogue would be less detrimental to him than his “friends” learning of his utter ineptitude in staying on top of the younger generations’ lingo.

When questioned why the League doesn’t have a group chat or a forum or anything that they can use to contact each other outside of world ending matters and communicator (”because we’re friends, Batman! Ma and Pa Kent would love to have everyone over for a barbecue!”), the person who dared even mention texting isn’t even given a verbal response. They are just glared at, silently, often for several uninterrupted minutes, frozen in place only able to breathe shallowly in fear of setting off the Bat. “You know why” his glare says, “I’ll eat you, your family, and everything you have ever held dear” the younger members hear. No one makes the mistake of asking about it twice.

Outside of his children and Alfred, and his small circle of true friends involved in all aspects of his life, there is only one more person Bruce allows to know of his Darkest Secret. Selina. Someone most people would recommend he not be involved with. Catwoman: accomplished thief, distraction, chaos-incarnate most nights, and his significant other. Sharp as a whip (ha) and crafty like no one’s business; he is head-over-heels. On again/Off again and all over the place their long romance has been, but no one has ever challenged him, intrigued him, like this clever, beautiful, amazing woman has. He’s brought his partners around his children before, both for their judgement, and for their worst behaviours to vet out any “unworthy” suitors. He trusts them explicitly to tell him the truth about those he allows into the manor; were they rude about Bruce wanting to have group outings, did they say something about Bruce’s money, did they get angry or shout or make anyone uncomfortable while they were here? If his children even looked slightly unhappy with someone he brought them to meet, that person would not be invited back. Children, he finds, have the best sight when meeting people; no motives other than finding safety and love, no fear of consequences from speaking honestly...

Selina, or Catwoman, as they had known her first, was someone all of his kids liked without issue right off the bat. She would make puns and play word games with Richard, his first Robin, tiny, still working on his English, able to connect with him over their acrobatic abilities. His second Robin, Jason, skittish and feisty as an alley cat, knew of Catwoman and her daring escapades long before Bruce found him. The young boy had a few heroes, and no one (not even Wonder Woman) could compare to the incredible burglar who bought food and jackets and medicine for the street kids in Crime Alley. She was saintly in his eyes, and to this day, Bruce was still working on convincing Jason he was good enough for Selina. Tim and Cass and Stephanie (basically another daughter to Bruce, she spends so much time with the family) all joined the Wayne clan around the same time and officially met Selina as a friend and partner of his, and in the good graces of his first two sons. Selina, in all her nightly business, and many travels and acquaintances, had met the three independently, helping Tim get home safely back to Drake Manor when he escaped to photograph Batman and Robin in the dank darkness of Gotham when he was just a young boy, spending some time with Cassandra when her despicable father left her alone long enough to recover from his rough treatment, showing her the first scraps of kindness in her short life, and watching over and protecting Stephanie as she followed and sabotaged her father Cluemaster and his criminal activities. There was no need to win them over once they met her civilian identity, she had already gained their favour and acceptance, and they were happy to have her near their new family. Damian, his youngest, his biological son, took the longest to warm up to Selina. He would never fault his little boy for fighting so hard against a woman that was not his birth mother, especially after all the manipulation and cruelty dealt to him by Talia for the first decade of his life. But as he began to learn about his father, these people in his father’s life, and this woman that was Not His Mother but “still okay, I guess”, he grew to see her as acceptable. Her cats definitely helped, he’d say, no one with cats that loyal and happy can be a bad person.

Selina, the love of his life, he’d admit quietly to himself, was also a dirty traitor and in cahoots with his terrible children. She would say his texting skills were “sweet” and “very gentlemanly” when she was asked by anyone outside the family, and privately to him she would say she thought they were “adorable” and “please don’t ever change, Bruce, I like it.” However, nothing seemed to bring her more joy than his children sending her texts and “Snaps” and “memes” about him to her. Sometimes it was screenshots of the family group chat that they forced him to join, where he would post “To whom it may concern...” and “In regards to...” when he needed to reach all his delinquents in a timely manner. Sometimes it was video clips of him staring at his phone intently, then typing something on his laptop, then him reading and nodding along, and then finally going back and responding to the text he received with a small, pleased smile. And sometimes, when he got too injured or was too incapacitated to text coherently, he’d have his nearest able child transcribe his text to her. Depending on who was texting her for Bruce, she could expect many different things. From Dick, she’d get lots of shorthand and silly emojis, and many, many, winky and crying/laughing faces in brackets depending on what Bruce had made him type. Jason, bless him, used proper English most of the time, but would never write a single word of Bruce’s soliloquy to her, instead she enjoyed the TL;DR version: “hurt again, missing you, come home soon, blah blah blah, sappy gross words here, love you”. Tim would allow speech recognition to run on Bruce’s phone, and just let it go until the man passed out. Stephanie, the little chaos child, would film it and send it to her, including all her muffled laughter and shaky camera shots of Bruce emoting with his available undamaged limbs. Cass, still more versed in physicality and emotive movement, would interpret Bruce’s text into mostly emojis, hearts and happy faces and animals, but would include photos, and phrases that she found important enough to type out for Selina. Damian, forever his Father’s son in any way possible, texts very formally, referring to her or his siblings Bruce mentions by last name only, and lots of “Father requests me to tell you...” and “Kyle, know that Father...”. She adores these kids, and once Bruce recovers enough to text her himself, or she gets back to the Manor, they get to laugh about whatever she was sent this time.

So, while it’s true that Bruce couldn’t text his way out of a wet paper bag, and his kids are sometimes brats about it, there’s probably a lot of different reasons he doesn’t spend too much time trying to improve his skills. Whether it’s the smiles of his children, the giggles of his significant other, or the warm feeling in his chest when he sees all his important people bonding over him, well, in the end, who’s to say?

#batman #batfam #bruce/selina #batcat #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bruce x selina

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fedeipox · 4 years ago

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The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 2 (3/3)

The day has finally come!! I post this one and run in the leaving room where my beautiful Christmas Tree is waiting to be decorated! Am I the only one who loves Christmas so desperately?

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636417099433164800/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-13

Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636678045617537024/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-23

Chapter 2 (3/3) - Like King Arthur?

Words: 3,4k

The landscape was changing. Finally they had left the mountain, the ground was plainer, the grass visible under that poor snow that still persisted, too stubborn to let the sun melt it, and the path they were following was leading them from forests to open fields and then to rivers.

Emily had no idea of which time was it, but a dull rumbling of her stomach told her it was time to pull those oatcakes out to finish them. She opened the buttons of the bottle-green coat and unzipped her sweatshirt just what was necessary to put a hand inside and take the tin box she had hidden in there.

Feeling the eyes of the old man on her, she turned to look at him and showed him the box.

“You want some?” she asked.

“Nah, thank you. Never liked them” he replied shaking his hand in denial.

“Trust me, right now, they are the best thing I’ve ever had” she replied turning around.

“Hey, Jack. You want some?” she asked to the kid, who stood up to put a hand inside the box and took out one of the big round cookies.

Emily made the same gesture to the freckled woman who looked at her out of the corner of her eye in some kind of hostility.

It was true she wasn’t planning to stay with them, but that was no reason why she had to be rude, or not make amends for her behavior.

“I’m sorry for last night. I was a piece of shit. Oops… sorry Jack” she addressed the boy, who looked at her as he kept chewing his oatcake.

“It’s just… I was scared, I am scared, and… when I’m scared I have the tendency to lose my mind.”

The woman fixed her eyes on the bottom of the wagon among the boxes, carpets and bedrolls, purposefully not looking back at her.

“Peace” said Emily shaking the oatcake box in her direction.

The woman sighed and took one as a way to accept her apology.

“I’m Emily. I think you got it, by now. What’s your name?”

“Molly.”

“You’re Irish, aren’t you? Or Scottish? I’m not good with accents.”

“My family came from Ireland, yes.”

She didn’t sound like she was in the mood for conversation.

“What about you, Mister? What’s your name?” she asked to the nice grandpa.

“You can call me Uncle, dear.”

“Uncle?” Emily laughed. “Don’t you have a real name?”

“No-one knows his real name” answered Hosea, rising his voice to be heard over the noise of hooves and creaking wheels.

“And how did you call him when he was young?” Emily asked amused.

“He’s never been young” replied Hosea.

Emily laughed heartily. They could be criminals, but they were fun, and kind, and fair and everything else that did not match with the idea she had about criminals. None of them had tried to rape her, hurt her, threat her. There was that Micah of course, who she didn’t like, and Karen was a little… unpleasant, but the rest of them seemed normal. And then there was the fact that they were in 1899, but they didn’t look much different from the people of her time.

Looking at the two men on the leading place of the wagon, she exchanged a look with the man with the blue coat.

“And you?” she asked not without feeling a little embarrassed.

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Arthur.”

“Like King Arthur?” she said surprised.

“Like Arthur Morgan” he replied serious.

Emily laughed again, this time louder.

“Like King Arthur and Morgan le Fay? Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like a joker to you?”

Emily bursted out laughing. She couldn’t help it, she loved that irony, it was one of the things she found most entertaining and funny in the world. The pity was, she didn’t know many ironic people. When she finally could breathe again, she dried the tears from her eyes and took one of the oatcakes.

“Careful back there, we’re crossing a river” said Charles Smith from the front of the wagon.

“A river? With the wagons?” Emily asked.

Then, she looked around and noticed the path they were following was on the edge of a ravine and there was a water sound, not the calm bubbling of a flowing river, but something more powerful like…

“A waterfall!” she exclaimed turning around to look at it.

“What, you never saw a waterfall?” asked Uncle.

“Only on TV.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind, it’s a long story.”

Putting her knees on the bottom of the wagon, where she was seated a few moments before, she raised just what was necessary to look at the caravan ahead. They were crossing the river right before it bended over and crashed down the fall.

What an experience that was going to be! She had never crossed a river, and even less a waterfall, and even lesser with a wagon.

She sat again and waited patiently until she felt the wagon jolt and the tip of her shoes brushing against the water surface. She giggled watching the clear water ripple under her. In that moment she felt younger, she felt like a child, with her heart light and her mind empty from every kind of thought.

She turned her head towards the waterfall and the view that opened to her eyes took her breath away. She couldn’t believe that was America, the place she was born and grown in. Where had those places been until then?

Right there, of course, but she never had had the chance to go and see them. She had never traveled, never set a foot out of Lemoyne. School trips? Yes, the one day trips, those that didn’t cost much, those her family could afford. The old Saint Denis museums, the Civil War Memorial, Rhodes, the old Braithwaite Manor… there wasn’t much in Lemoyne after all.

They forded the river, slowly and carefully, and reached the other side of it, when…

“Get us out the stream” she heard Hosea saying.

The wagon she was in slowed down until Charles Smith made it stop completely.

“You gotta keep us moving, but calm” added Hosea as he signaled Mr. Arthur to get out of the water.

Their wagon was moving with a strange wobble and as soon as they got out of the river it bended on one side with a loud terrible noise.

“Ahh shit!” sweared Mr. Morgan.

“What happened?” asked Emily.

“Ahh I broke the goddamn wheel!” complained Mr. Morgan.

Emily looked at him as he got down the wagon and asked herself why he was so grumpy.

“Is he always this angry?” she asked to Uncle.

“Oh, you have no idea” he replied with a chuckle.

“Alright, let’s get it fixed” said Hosea with much more optimism than Arthur.

“What’s going on?” asked another voice and turning around she noticed one of the men that was following the caravan at horseback had come back to check what had happened. It was the man with the ridiculous mustache and bowler hat.

“They broke the wheel” she answered.

“You need help?” he asked.

“I reckon we can handle it” she heard Hosea saying.

Without thinking, she jumped down the wagon. Why had she done it? She was curious, about how they would have fixed the wheel and about that angry criminal with the fairytale name. Charles Smith had left the wagon too and walked past her to go help them.

“See you later” said Uncle and when she turned to look at him, the wagon had just started to move away.

She waved at him and then exchanged a look with the man on the horse who nodded to her and hit the spurs to follow the wagon which in so little time was already so far away from her.

“Alright Charles, you and me hold the thing up while you try and put the wheel back on, Arthur” said Hosea.

“Can I help?” Emily asked as she reached the back of the broken wagon.

“No” answered Arthur making the wheel roll on the ground.

“You sure you’re still strong enough to hold up a wagon, Hosea?” he asked then, lifting the wheel from the ground and placing it where she belonged.

So, that’s how they fixed wheels in 1899, placing them back. Much easier than change a car tire.

“Shut up” said Hosea.

“I’m just saying.”

“Well, say less.”

That little teasing between them made Emily chuckle.

When the wheel broke, some crates fell on the ground with an empty barrel and a carpet too, which had rolled a little bit away, so she walked in its direction to pick it up.

“See, you ain’t so useless after all” Morgan joked.

Hosea laughed before answering “not quite”.

She turned around and handed the carpet roll to Charles Smith who loaded it on the wagon. Then, she bended and took one of the crates, but when she tried to pass it to Hosea, she saw the man was looking up, his attention caught by something else.

She looked up too, bringing a hand to her forehead to cover her eyes from the direct light of the sun, and spotted three figures at horseback looking down at them, and they looked like…

“Natives?” she asked.

“What do you think?” asked Morgan.

“If they wanted trouble we wouldn’t have seen ‘em” replied Charles Smith.

“Poor bastards… we really screwed them over down here. Pardon my French, Miss” said Hosea.

Emily looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah, you should hear my French” she joked and looked again at the three Natives.

“What happened?” asked Arthur.

Emily turned to look at him in disbelief.

“What, you lived it and you have no idea of what happened?” she asked.

“You do?” he asked back.

“We better go, let’s not push our luck, we’ll talk later” said Hosea walking to the front of the wagon.

Mr. Morgan did the same, while Charles Smith climbed on the back and then turned around to reach out a hand that Emily took to lift herself on it. She and Mr. Charles sat one opposite to the other and she had been lucky enough to sit on a rolled carpet.

“Not too far now. Stay on this trail. We’ll follow the river then cut left inland” said Hosea. “So, you know what happened” he stated then turning around to look at her.

“Of course I do. Everybody does. It’s one of the bloodiest chapters in history.”

From the looks they gave her, she could tell they were expecting her to say something more.

“Anyway, they took their lands, stole everything they had, and moved them away, not to mention the massacres of the wars.”

“Thank goodness those have ended” replied Hosea.

“Nothing has ended. The abuses against the Natives will be carried on until the first half of the 21st century.”

“And how can you make such a statement?” asked Hosea narrowing his eyes to look at her carefully.

“I think I’ve made that part clear.”

Mr. Morgan scoffed.

“What, that you come from the future?” he asked skeptically.

Emily sighed as an answer. She would have never convinced them of that.

“You are a Native, right?” she asked to Charles Smith.

“By mother. My father was a colored man.”

“Wow that’s unusual. You must be proud of it” she replied with a surprised smile.

“Not really.”

“Why not? Such a rare happening, different cultures, different stories… it’s beautiful.” “Not everybody thinks the same.”

“W-what…”

She had to remember to herself where she was, when she was, to understand what he meant.

“What about your parents? Where are they?” she asked.

“I don’t know. The army came and took my mother when I was little. I left my father’s house when I was thirteen.”

“Why?”

“He was a sad man, especially after what happened to my mother, and the alcohol had a mean hold on him.”

Disappeared mother, drunk father, that man had a terrible story, and she could feel his sadness through that deep voice he had. Without thinking, she did what she thought to be the right thing and leaned forward to hug him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry” she murmured.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked.

Emily let him go and frowned at him looking at his bewildered face.

“Erm… showing my sympathy?” she answered.

“Why?” he replied defensive.

Emily kept looking at him and then moved her eyes on Hosea, who had a surprised expression just like Charles Smith. And she couldn’t say the same of Mr. Morgan, because he was driving, but she reckoned he was asking himself what the hell was she doing too.

“Because that’s what people do? Your story is terrible, you must have suffered a lot and I want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk.”

He kept looking at her like she was speaking Chinese. So it was true what they said, in the past people were truly cold and unsympathetic. Probably no-one had ever told him something like that.

“So now you’ll go around and hold people to show them your sympathy?” asked Mr. Morgan sarcastic.

Emily laughed at his provocation.

“No, not everybody. Only those who deserve it. What about you Arthur Morgan? What’s your story?”

“We found young Arthur here when he was like what… fifteen?” Hosea asked him.

“Yeah, more or less” Arthur replied.

“A wilder delinquent you never did see. But he learned fast” added Hosea.

“So you didn’t have any family?” Emily asked.

“Orphan, they both died when I was very young.”

“Oh my…” she whispered.

Was there anyone who had had a normal life? A normal childhood? A happy childhood? She asked herself as a great pity raised in her for those people. She wasn’t surprised they all became criminals, in someway they didn’t have a choice. And what about the girls? What kind of life did they have? Mary-Beth, Tilly, Abigail? What was their story? If the men had been so unfortunate, she could only imagine what it had to be for the women, because we all know for women is always worse.

“So, what now? You’re gonna hold me too?” asked Mr. Morgan with that sarcastic tone.

“No” she said and immediately looked away when he turned his head to glance at her. “Not anymore” she added.

...

Arthur laughed focusing again on the road. She was something, with that childish enthusiasm for waterfalls and that sympathy for people with sad stories and that claim of her provenience from the future. She was the strangest creature he had ever met and the same was thinking Charles, who couldn’t move his eyes from her since she had touched him. No-one had ever showed that interest for his origin, that compassion for his past, that kindness for him, and especially a white girl. He wasn’t used to that.

“What about your story, Miss Emily?” asked Hosea who wasn’t less stroke by her strange behavior.

“There’s nothing interesting to say about me, I’m afraid. I’m born in Saint Denis and there I lived my whole life with my mom and dad. I’d never thought to say that but…compared to you I feel extremely lucky. I have a family and friends and a job… well, I had a family, friends and a job.”

Charles noticed her own words had caused something inside her and her eyes suddenly lost the light. She fixed them on the distance, watching everything and nothing at the same time. Why did he have the impression that girl was telling the truth? All that story seemed absurd, but the change of her expression was genuine.

“Listen, I don’t know what to think of it” said Hosea as he understood that too.

“I know, you can’t believe me” she said brushing her tears away.

“And I don’t expect you to. I just don’t know what to do. Even if I went to Saint Denis, there would be nothing for me there. I have no place, I have no-one, I have nothing”

“Yes, you do. You have us” replied Hosea.

She looked at him with those big dark eyes that shined in the sun like they produced their own light.

“We’ll take care of you, like we’ve been taking care of each other in the last twenty years.”

“But… but you are…”

“Outlaws? Yes. Bad people? Also probably yes. But we are also a family.”

The girl smiled and dried the last tears from her eyes, which all of a sudden had recovered that light that made her look younger and innocent and pure, a purity of spirit Hosea hadn’t seen in many people, and it needed protection from that cruel world they lived in.

...

Her own words had crushed inside her like an airplane, but the more Hosea talked to her the better she felt. That man had a way of talking that could calm a ferocious bear, and she just couldn’t believe he was a criminal. He was so sweet, kind, and he was caring about her, when no-one did. Maybe she didn’t have to leave them, maybe she could stay with them just what was necessary to understand what she wanted to do with her forced new life.

“You know you’re gonna have to teach me how to do everything, right? I come from a time when we have a lot of things which you have not” she said.

“Like what?” asked Charles Smith.

She looked around her trying to think about something.

“Like, erm, I don’t know, like cars. Wagons without horses” she said.

“We have them. People already posses them in the East” replied Hosea.

“Really? What about, erm, phones?”

“You mean telephones? You can find it at the Sheriff’s office, they let you use it if you ask.”

Emily widened her eyes in surprise, wishing she had a better knowledge of inventions of the 1800’s.

“And showers?” she asked.

It came to her mind and for a moment she wished they had showers too, so she could have one as soon as they got to Valentine.

“Showers?” asked Hosea.

“Yes, when the water comes from above, from the shower head” she explained.

“Like the rain?” asked Charles.

“No, I-I… l-like…”

She had no idea how to make them understand.

“How do you wash?” she asked. Maybe starting from their point of view, it would have been easier.

“In the bathtub?” said Mr. Morgan.

“Okay, a bathtub, great, now think about water, okay? Coming from a pipe which falls from above, and you wash under it, and then the water flaws inside the bathtub and in the pipes again.”

She felt like an idiot, with her arm stretched up in the air making the water-that-comes-from-the-shower sign.

“Why should water come from above if you can fill the bathtub?” asked Arthur.

“Because this way is cleaner. When you have a bath you basically swim in your own filth, is unhygienic” Emily explained.

The three of them chuckled and snorted. Emily did the same, shaking her head and thinking it was for the best if they didn’t talk about modern inventions anymore.

“You know, I’m almost tempted to believe you really come from the future, I don’t think you can make up something like showers” said Mr. Arthur.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll patent it, so I’ll become rich” she joked.

A movement from her left made her jerk around, and what she saw made her heart jump and a rush of excitement ran in her veins.

“A deer!” she yelled.

“Look, look, a deer!” she said pointing at the animal jumping up and down until it reached the river.

Hearing that shrieking, the deer stopped to look at her with its ears stretched up.

“And if you don’t stop yelling that’s the first and last you’ll ever see” Morgan said annoyed.

Emily pouted at his reproach.

“Sorry, I’ve never seen one” she murmured looking down.

“Never saw a waterfall, never saw a deer. You are a real city girl” said Arthur with some sort of mocking in his voice.

“Yes, I am, And I’m proud of it.”

Mr. Morgan scoffed.

“What? I am. Cities are great, always alive, always full of people, opportunities…”

“Overwhelming chaos” said Hosea.

“Arrogant sons of bitches” added Arthur.

“Filthy air” ended Charles Smith.

“Yeah, well… it has its flaws” she admitted in the end.

A glimpse of the sun light reflected on the water of the flat river and caught her attention on the spectacular landscape. She inhaled deeply and the smell of grass and trees and flowers entered in her nostrils, having a sort of lulling effect on her mind.

“Yeah, cities are great. But I think I prefer the country.”

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