Tumgik
#the easy answer is to make her trans (which i might just do anyways) but i think instead im gonna make it so she changed it as a statement??
druidshollow · 1 year
Text
i have an ancient oc named flight to the sun, homeward descent, but ive recently realized descent might be a kinda sacrilegious term to a society whos religion is all about ascending... so now i need to come up with an excuse for that being her name (read tags for more context if u want lol)
8 notes · View notes
drchucktingle · 3 months
Note
On your blog you've talked about dealing with chronic as a result from the stress of masking your autism.
It's a bit of a different situation, but my little sister (who we've begun to suspect has adhd) has been experiencing chronic pain in her arms and legs. I may be totally off base, but I was wondering if a similar stess might potentially be a factor in her pain.
If you're willing, would you mind talking about how your pain affected before you found a way to manage it (I tried searching your tumblr, but not much came up, so sorry if I'm asking a question that's already been answered)?
Thanks either way, I love your books. Love is real!
sure buckaroo GOOD QUESTION. i have had chronic pain in some form or another for LONG TIME in a number of STRESS RELATED WAYS. in past it has been cracking teeth from clenching dang jaws while i sleep and things like that, but a few years ago it was FULL ON BODY PAIN AND TIGHTNESS like every muscle was clenching up. went to the doctor over and over all kinds of dang specialists and it was very difficult to figure out what was going on. eventually landed on a sort of nebulous trot of STRESS but i can get more specific.
there are several things about me that you would never know just from looking or even talking to me for long times. i am a bi buckaroo, i am a non-dysphoric trans buckaroo, i am an autistic buckaroo. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE THINGS IS EITHER HIDDEN AUTOMATICALLY OR I AM SUCH AN EXPERT AT HIDING THAT IT IS SECOND NATURE
autism presents its trot in many ways, so my words do not apply to all, but my version is EXTREME ORGANIZATION AND ENDLESS WORK ETHIC. in way of freud (which is a silly way but sometimes good for symbolism talk) i have what you would call an OVERDEVELOPED SUPER EGO which is a double edged sword. i can write 100s of books at an incredible pace, but also feel like my body is constantly collapsing in on itself
this is not really something i consciously think about much, but eventually these health problems started creeping up. it was all from carrying this mystery tension in my body, because while it feels EASY for me to mask i believe all that tension goes somewhere and it stores up and stores up and stores up.
so i think the HEALTHY way that i have found to deal with this (i think of it as releasing the steam valve a bit so the boiler does not break down) is ART. this space where i am allowed to be CHUCK TINGLE and write without obsessing over the spelling or punctuation, or to loudly express my queerness, or explore gender, and to let my neurotypical mask down DIRECTLY RELIEVES my chronic pain because it literally makes my muscles relax.
when i started out this ARTISTIC TROT as chuck i used a LOT of metaphor to keep my privacy, with different words or different versions of people for different things, and buckaroos found this very funny. as a way to express myself artistically i also liked this metaphor trot a lot, but i have also found that the LESS metaphor i paint over my life as chuck, the better it is for my health. if you have noticed, i talk less about some of the parts of my life that were metaphors, or maybe you have seen that my voice has relaxed a bit in interviews, or that i carry myself a little differently over time, this is partially why. (there is another artistic reason that was a planned trot from the beginning and it has to do with my feelings as a young autistic buckaroo of not fitting in on this timeline, but we can dive into that later).
anyway, as PRACTICAL ADVICE i would say that FINDING A SPACE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF WITHOUT FEAR OR MASKING has been the number one trot for me. that can be a pink bag over your head writing hundreds of erotic shorts, or that can be just laying on the ground howling your heart out, or doing whatever stim you need to do.
i will also say that ONCE I REALIZED IT WAS MUSCLE TENSION getting a physical therapist helped a lot. because there are two sides, you have to start releasing steam from the steam valve, but at the same time youve also gotta start HEALING THE DAMAGE. so i think stretching and techniques like that can be very helpful.
hope that helps buckaroo LOVE IS REAL
2K notes · View notes
apas-95 · 7 months
Note
How do you not realize your Marxist ideology is false when it says shit like a trans black woman small business owner is oppressing her cis white man employees?
I don't think you're, like, genuinely asking, or are curious, here, but I'll answer anyways, for everyone else who might be confused on issues like this: it's intersectionality.
You could make this argument about essentialy any axis of oppression - 'how do you not realise your LGBT ideology is false when it says shit like a cishet black person is oppressing their white trans gay employees', or, conversely, 'how do you not realise your racial ideology is false when it says shit like a white trans gay person is oppressing their cishet black employees'.
The point here isn't to have a rock-paper-scissors, Pokémon type-effectiveness ranking of which axes of oppression 'outrank' which others, it's to understand that each axis of oppression is an entirely distinct social system that overlaps with the other. A black business owner suffers from the social system of antiblackness, and benefits from the social system of capitalism. The specific overlap of their blackness and their class character also gives them an entirely unique character with regards to their segment of society. If they are USAmerican, for example, in their specific case the state and progress of the national liberation movement in the US means that they make up the rear of the revolutionary movement, despite being themselves petit-bourgeois. These systems of oppression are qualitatively different, and cannot be simply, quantitatively, summed up against each other.
With this in mind, it should be understood that the Marxist understanding of class as the principal contradiction does not mean that class is the most important, overruling factor, and that other axes should be ignored. Class is considered the principal contradiction because it is the contradiction that all other axes of oppression, genuine in their own rights, grew out of. Antiblackness was created by the slave trade (not vice-versa), and the slave trade was created by the growing European bourgeoisie's need to extract surplus-value, in the collapse of the Feudal economy. In the example you gave, the petit-bourgeois business owner exploits the labour of her workers, and is supported in doing so by an entire legal, political, and philosophical system based on the expropriation of the proletariat. She is also herself repressed and exploited on the basis of race, gender, and transness. These do not cancel each other out. However, given the ultimate source of racial, patriarchal, and cissexist oppress is political-economic class, her ability to genuinely fight for her interests in those fields will be hamstrung by her class position - just as her ability to attain and maintain that class position in the first place is itself hamstrung by her oppression in other fields.
Ultimately, there are no simple rules that society can be flattened down by. Each and every instance and scenario must be investigated in its own right. The idea that people are driven to Marxism because it provides an easy or simplified way of looking at the world is (perhaps unfortunately!) wrong, it actually means a lot more work!
2K notes · View notes
just-antithings · 1 year
Note
I legit don't know what to think of HP. I started becoming uncomfortable with liking it when I realized a close trans friend of mine would be aware I liked it and it might hurt their feelings to know that. I tend to do a lot of shifting my morals because I want my friends to like me though- like I used to pretend to be an anti because of a different "friend", or my stance on AI art is that it's always bad but I'm not going to lecture my closest friend for using AI to create pictures of her DnD characters... but I'd feel like I'm expected to lecture any stranger about it or try to hint that they should stop. But I don't want to make my friend uncomfortable. I wish there was an easy answer about HP that would make me a "good person" regardless. All I can think is to try to do the least amount of harm but when this stuff has personal meaning to people I know, it gets tricky to be like. ideologically independent? So I say I'm not comfy with anything HP because I want to be a "good person" in my trans friend's eyes but isn't this the same sort of thing as anti type thinking? Wanting to have the "correct" views to not be "problematic"? My dad is a jerk about some politics (he claims to be an "asshole socialist" which kind of sums it up tbh) and he calls the idea of having to say you like or don't like a thing because of other people's opinions "totalitarianism". Yet he wouldn't say the N word (and doesn't want to) but... idk. I'm not sure where the line is between being a "good person", being polite to other people, versus being "problematic". Today's politics are full of guilt tripping and it makes me shy away from people who would make me feel uncomfortable (or!! just in general I'm worried I'd do something wrong! so I avoid interactions with minorities because I don't want to be accidentally hurtful! but that itself is bad!), even when otherwise I'm interested in learning to be good... but as a white person, I'm "supposed to be uncomfortable". So it's my fault I don't push through and learn anyway. Sorry for the long rant I'm just autistic and trying to figure out what is even okay to think when so many people around me have varying views. Could use some advice but this is long already and probably is too political/race-related/breaks some rule in there somewhere so I understand if you don't post this.
.
12 notes · View notes
basilly · 3 years
Note
Hello! Ik you've mentioned that you don't write for mcyt's anymore, but I still often come across your fics. And something I've repeatedly seen is you stating "you can just replace them in your head" after stating the pronouns. And it hurts honestly. As a trans person, to see you say that feels like you're trying to undermine mine, and others efforts. I particularly have a problem with when you say it for she/her pronouns, but that's just because I'm ftnb(female to non-binary) and she/her pronouns give me dysphoria. And you can just say "don't read my fics that use she/her pronouns" but you saying "you can just replace them in your head" is kind of saying, "you can read this you're just sensitive." But another thing is, for trans people especially, and cis people(not as much because while cis people can still experience some gender dysphoria it's definitely not as much as trans people), seeing the pronouns you used to go by, or what strangers assume you use, its like a stab to the chest every time, and I understand that for cis people it can be easy to ignore, and easy to change in your head, but that experience is very different for trans people, because we try so hard to change what we are perceived as.
A whole other point is, I use fanfiction as a sort of safe space, and I know many others do as well, and you know, seeing that, the phrase you use, devalues that for me, it's telling me that I am not valid in my own safe space, and idk if I'm alone in this, but idk.
You haven’t done anything wrong, please don't misunderstand. Your work is amazing and I love the fics that I've read. I just wanted to kind of, bring this to your attention? Because you might just be unaware of it? Which is fine! And I don't blame you, I'm certainly don't know the entire workings of minorities I'm not apart of. Anyways lol, this wasn't meant to hold any malice, and I'm definitely not angry, I did get emotional lmao. I cried while writing this hahaha.
Anyways, have a great day/night <3
okay this is the second time its been brought up so i want to address this-
i, under no way had any intentions of making ppl uncomfortable- at the time i wrote my fics, it was common for others to tell me they just replaced it. fanfic and boundaries have definitely evolved a bit in the way its been placed in fics since then so i apologize.
before, i have asked in my posts for gender neutral terms or ways to fix problems that may arise like these- and have received answers that ppl have just replaced them. thus i followed that format but i can see why its an issue now.
i might not have the time to go back and fix then at the moment, but if you continue to see it, please tell me which fics so i can edit them. the purpose of the pronouns at the tol are for you to decide whether to read them or not
i appreciate that you did this kindly and im so sorry i didnt mean to make u cry! this is how u handle situations tho and its all in communication! ive gotten angry cusses before and this is a much nicer change :)
37 notes · View notes
Note
Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t it ultimately turn out that Angela was a slasher movie villain who just happened to be trans? Like that had absolutely nothing to do with her actual motives for being a slasher movie villain?
spoilers for the trashy horror films, complete over-analysis, and I hope I'm answering your question within this, but also I wanna write about this for a sec
a small CW for those movies, homophobia, and transphobia. I'm not describing anything in detail:
In the first movie her motives are that the people she goes after are cruel to her (and to her cousin). in the last scene it's shown that she killed her love interest, possibly because he rejected her or she imagined some form of rejection (ironically like a reverse hate crime there), but we don't see it happening -
the last sequence for her is that she and the love interest go down to the beach (I believe at her suggestion) and take off their clothes. when the camp counsellors find them, she's killed him and is covered in his blood and you get that infamous last shot that's supposed to make everything clear to a transphobic audience
the original backstory is that her sister and father (who is canonically gay, and it's hinted this might have added to some form of gender/sexuality confusion? it's not very clear, so I choose to not read it like that, but it's what I think is intended) were killed in a boating accident, and she was raised with her aunt -- actually sidenote there, it's a tragedy on its own that we see her father clearly in a loving relationship with another man, but their relationship wouldn't be recognised, and so that man could never have gotten custody over Angela, even though he was clearly already a second father to the kids.... this movie has a habit of skirting around real queer life issues without, I think, realising it, but that's also where I get the things that interest me about it
in the first film the story goes "Angela is actually a boy who was forced to live as a girl by her insane? evil? aunt" which is something seen in a few other horrors (and in vice versa - girl forced to live as a boy kills). Oddly enough that's... really close to making a point about transness -- that is, imagine if you were raised in a gender that you weren't -- it wouldn't make you a murderer, but it is bad for your mental health, that's correct enough
of course, that's not the point of the movie, the point is that Angela's gender confusion has driven her maaaad [eyeroll], but I actually like the movie as a whole, because -- as others have said before me -- it feels more like Carrie than, say, Dressed To Kill or Silence Of The Lambs, in which the killer is always seen from the outside as a complete, monstrous, other
Angela, like Carrie, isn't the other -- she's the protagonist
Both kill their bullies
Both are young girls alienated from traditional girlhood
Carrie's insecurities (and powers) are exacerbated by the romance she's not sure is real
Angela's insecurities (and murders) are exacerbated by the romance she's not sure is real
Both of them are raised by domineering, abusive women
By the end both of them "go too far" but you see where it started (literally the first person Angela attacks is a grown man trying to sexually assault her)
There is something (unintentionally?) empowering about first-movie-Angela -- it's the age-old horror allowance for a girl to let go and be the monster that people imagine girls to be, and it's also a tragedy, because originally the girl didn't want to be a monster at all and the liberation comes at the cost of Society and Sanity (two things that are overrated anyway amirite)
NOW
I've only seen the second of the follow-up instalments, but I believe it's also the last one in which transness is brought up -- in the opening some camp kids joke about Angela coming to get them and one of them says she had gender affirming surgery in a closed ward (lol, imagines it's that easy)
and then it turns out one of the counsellors is Angela and she systematically kills all of the kids for various perceived "bad" things they do (like smoking, having sex, using bad language, etcetc)
I know there are some people who prefer this movie and the next ones, in which I presume she just does the same sort of thing, and I did quite like to see that apparently it's no big deal that she's trans + if you're gonna go cis casting, they did in fact continue to cast a woman, like in the first one (although now it's Pamela Springsteen, Bruce Springsteen's sister, which is amazing to me) + it semi-retcons that ridiculous "she's not a girl, she was forced to be one" narrative, which man, you write that sentence and it gets turned around in your head, right?
The sequel: "She IS a girl, she's chosen to be one" much much better!
where I think the follow-up is weaker is in lack of Theme. Angela, to me, feels less realised than the Angela in the first movie, whom I actually relate a great deal to, even though I'm not transfemme (one of the people she murders, albeit overly gruesomely, demands to know why she doesn't shower with the rest of them and accuses her of being "a dyke" and I was like "ah, here's where the transmasc and transfemme experience really comes together")
there are a lot of scenes I could write about here, that I actually felt really personal about, but I won't because it'd get tangent-y --
the first movie, to me, is an incredibly Queer movie, not just with Angela, but also with her father and his partner -- the "evil" when I watch it, is all too easily read as the heterocisnormative violence that surrounds Angela and that she's fighting back at. When she was a younger kid, living with a father and his partner, she had a happy life
I don't say this is the intention of the movie, but it has enough Theme that you can build lots of reads out of it (incl, in my head, that she was already transfemme and her aunt picked up on it). The intention is a cheap knock-off of all those other movies that think gender-confusion is a psychologically deep reason for someone to commit murder, because they're fucking stupid, but at the same time I unfortunately think horror depicts transness better than other genres (so far), because so much horror is all about confusing dark emotions about bodies, the feeling of being trapped, and the pain of liberation... Angela is like Carrie, or Ginger, or Jennifer, but also not too dissimilar to Final Girls like Laurie, or Sally (in fact, the maniacal Final Girl laugh/scream that Sally is so famous for isn't too dissimilar from the last shot of Angela's face)
the sequel was fine. I can pluck out this and that in terms of read, but I think glossing over and "moving on" from her transness makes the movie weaker. Of course, the alternative is a bunch of cis film-makers trying to write transness, so probably we're spared something much much worse, and I am still intending to watch the rest, but I'm not personally a fan of "this person happens to be..." plots, because it feels contextless and narratively unfocused to me
In a way-too-broadly-cast opinion here (and there are plenty of outliers), if there is a main trans character, or a character of any gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, class background, ability/disability, body-type etcetcetc. I think those things need to matter in the text, because they matter in real life -- and not in a "woe is me" way (although, sometimes that is the case), I mean mainly in a cultural way and in a self-awareness way -- how does Angela's transness affect the way she sees the world?
I think the closest I can get is that Angela of the sequel has overcorrected herself -- she has Learned how to be a correct person/woman (and conveniently shut herself out from experiencing the world) and now she wants to teach others the same. This is text, but it's not really delved into in any way, this is just what she does now, and possibly a side of "she never left that camp emotionally"
I wish she didn't try to have some moral high-ground, because it traps her again. I'd love for her to let loose, because of the belief that nobody can stop her! I want her to feel invincible. I'll see if the next movies give me that, but I do also wish her transness wasn't gone, because then I might as well be watching a cis woman, which isn't why I'm here -- I'm here to watch something Queer
and here is where I end my ramble!
I think it's a matter of personal taste. If you wanna watch Themes, the first one is better, if you wanna enjoy a rampage without having to endure transphobia, the sequel/s your go-to
TL;DR in the first movie Angela's transness does play into her motives, but not in the subsequent movie (nor, I believe, in the movies after that). There are upsides and downsides to skirting over Angela's transness, but it's all about what floats your movie-watching boat
13 notes · View notes
Note
I’ve never done this before so here we go! It’s so confusing being a queer and non binary/trans teen that’s uncomfortable with their body because any kind of stimulation ends up making me overwhelmed and uncomfortable and spirals into me questioning my queer identity entirely! I want to prove to myself I’m queer and do what all my peers are doing... but it always makes me feel a little ashamed and just upset. Any advice at all would be so kind thank you so much! -🍊
Hi there dirtling, I'm sorry I didn't answer this when it came in, it's been a hectic few days.
The first thing that I want to say to you is that you do not need to look or act a certain way to be queer. If you identify as queer/LGBT+, you are inherently queer. However, I totally get wanting to show your identity in the way that you present, so let's brainstorm.
You raise an interesting point with sensory overload and becoming overstimulated. I can totally understand how cutting/dying your hair, wearing jewelry, etc might be too much for you. The great news is that there are tons of queer people out there that struggle with similar things, and I'm hoping that some of them will see this and chime in. I will admit that while I do have sensory processing issues, they aren't the same as yours, and so I apologize if any of my suggestions won't work for you.
I think that one easy and relatively cheap way for you to show your identity would be a pin with a pride flag and/or pronouns. I suggest a pin because you can put it on your backpack, coat, or jacket, where it might be less bothersome to you.
Trans pride flag pin from amazon
Non-binary pride flag pin from amazon
They/them pronouns pin from amazon
He/they pronoun pin from amazon
She/her pronoun pin from amazon
Ask me about my pronouns pin from amazon
Trans pride pins on etsy
Non-binary pride pins on etsy
Pronouns pin on etsy
I generally try to steer clear from Amazon and support independent artists on Etsy, but Etsy pins tend to be $4-5 dollars more expensive and I totally understand that people have limited funds. I also like Etsy because of its huge variety, which is why I just included links to the searches "trans/non binary/pronoun pin" rather than linking to individual ones.
If you wear socks everyday anyway, those could also be great ways to incorporate pride flags into your look, even though/especially if you're looking for something under the radar.
Trans socks from amazon
Non binary socks from amazon
Rainbow pride socks from Amazon
You can also get prints on tons and tons of different items on RedBubble. If you have specific t shirt needs, then you can still get a ton of designs on stickers for your waterbottle/laptop/etc, phone cases, masks, mugs, hats, pins, travel mugs, and so so much more.
I usually try to give people options that are low/no cost, and I do recognize that all of the things that I've suggested do require money which can be hard especially if you're not financially independent/have a supportive family. If I can come up with other inexpensive options I'll reblog this with an update.
Finally, I'll invite anyone else to share strategies that they've found, especially ones that might be good for someone who gets overstimulated quickly.
I hope this helps,
-Reid
14 notes · View notes
antihumanism · 3 years
Text
When I type everything out as a single run-on sentence I want you to imagine me cornering you off-guard in a crowded room, my empty brown cow eyes staring straight at you and reflecting you--nopony home here, she checked out and hopped away forever ago on the toxic chemical trains and clacking cattle cars years ago--and just, for no reason, I’m here and you’re there pocketed in the corner of a crowded room, and I’m channeling my alternate history past-self who was a preacher that got kicked out of the church for delivering sermons about the impossibility of sin and just ran off to Point Sur with my harem of distractions since I could never stop blessing my congregation saying “Go forth and know that you cannot sin, in the beautiful eyes of God and in my beautiful eyes there can be no wrong or evil” which backfired on me when they started setting fires and it all went to Hell, but I’ve won out over them because the world honored my wishes when I sighed “I should like to start again,” and so I’m here with you and you’re hear with me and I’m saying some insane shit like: “Looking back on Emily’s early works it is easy to see where her later reactionary turn comes from, because, from the start, Alfred Alfer was a story about the fear of castration, I mean, the first video was literally about Alfred getting neutered and escaping into a violent fantasy where he is loved and praised for his violence and the ‘punchline’ establishes the general theme of ‘reality by despair,’ which is to say that Alfred’s clearly dissociative episode is ‘verified’ by his destruction and it is this self-destruction that establishes ‘reality,’ like ‘pinch me i might be dreaming,’ but the pinch is violent and unfair self-destruction as hope is still ripped away, but hope remains, because it is a hope to die rather than be changed by the world, and this theme remains throughout her most famous work (the Alfred’s Playhouse trilogy which cements in canon the jokes of her previous Rise of Alfred cartoon) where Alfred is possessed by the spirits of Stalin and Hitler--a false equivalency made by the authoritarians that have passed for liberals for years--in Rise of Alfred, one would be remiss not to mention the phallic imagery in both the title and the video itself, Alfred is cut loose upon the world by the absence of a Near God or little other by the orders of a Distant God or big Other (in this video played by a droning and irrelevant corporate figure that can offer nothing more than a wall without lead paint that one can lick), and this is the essence of reactionary thought, the idea of a big Other who is totally incompetent yet all powerful and somehow worth respecting and suffering for (King Henry II saying ‘will no one rid me of this troublesome priest’ or the departed Daiymo of the 47 Ronin), the reactionary sees the big Other as a master who can only set the dogs off the chain, the police chief who needs to get out of the way so McBain or Dirty Harry or Paul Kersey (especially in Death Wish III) can do what needs to be done and purge away all the filth and make the world right again (no different than Rambo--even the first movie, which for all of it’s goods part still is  reactionary propaganda bullshit pushing the fascist lies about a ‘fifth column’ that was rude to poor little meow meow war criminals--or modern day fantasies about nuking all of MENA until it glows green (fantasies delivered to raucous applause at Republican presidential conventions); the reactionary is perpetually trapped in this fantasy of destroying the world and escaping into the void of space, freed of the ground where the riff-raff are so they don’t have to negotiate life with their neighbors, and this is true, yes, even of people who spout bullshit about Fully Automated Luxury Communism who only want the right to consume as much as possible free of guilt--a condition they think is inflicting upon them by the big Other--as the Champagne of Shame Socialists of the 60s), and the righting of the world for the reactionary is just that, that the world must be Righted and the reactionary must be loved for all of their violence and because of their violence, for the reactionary finds themselves ever needing new excuses as they open new fronts in their fake, phony Culture War, and that is all they need (excuses), which is why Emily is so obsessed with justifying her edgy shit based on some Trauma (which is handy excuse to do Anything, even Things that Cannot Be Excused like war or self-harm or wanting to be seen), and so here you should already be able to hear so much madness, so many plaintive cries, all aligning around the same point (the trannies in the ‘wrong’ bathroom, the refugees in the ‘wrong’ country, the people in the ‘wrong’ neighborhood, the Jewish Question, etc), and, anyway, so in Rise of Alfred, Emily’s OC directly addresses the audience and tells them that they must love him/her--the castrated bitch desperate to be let off the leash--and in Alfred’s Playhouse she/he simultaneously affirms and denies the nature of a trauma that justifies everything (one is constantly reminded of The Act of Killing where one of the mass murderers imagines how, depending on the editing of the final film, he could be either a woobie or a war criminal) as the Trauma is simultaneously a joke--’sodomized with a popsicle!’--and the alleged real event that motivates her self-mutilation as we’re expected to believe Emily is processing something, but what is she is processing, hmmmm, isn’t that the true spice,” I rail and rave against your poor ear drums as my empty, dead cow’s eyes capture your entire body and reflect it back at you and the ice cubes in my drink pop and shatter and dissolve and as my fist clenches tighter and tighter around the glass containing them and I continue: she’s processing a fear of castration, which is shown clearly in Alfred’s Playhouse where Alfred’s “sodomy” is demonstrated by the sight of his crotch covered in blood (a scene that will be repeated in The Alfred Alfer Movie) but “what is castration,” one might ask, and one can respond “it is the removal of power by the Father,” and this is how we wrap back around to our root in the nature of Emily the Reactionary who believes herself to be deprived of the power she holds by The Bolshevik Jew that has inserted itself between her and the Father and this is the cause of the big Other’s ineffectiveness, and this is also the core of the reactionary as a whole, the reactionary doesn’t want a daddy to control them, but a Master to set them off the chain because they hate the Father who has castrated them, this is the nature of the mumbling corporate manager in Rise of Alfred, but it is also the nature of Alfred herself--and now you may ask if Emily is trans and the answer is I literally couldn’t fucking care less about any question left forever unanswered on God’s Green Earth and you shouldn’t care either--but Alfred the Castrated is also the Father/Mother of Alfred the Dictator, the murderous inner-self that is immune to consequences of the onrushing future (The Alfred Alfer Movie) but not immune to the justifications of the imagined past (Alfred’s Playhouse trilogy), and therefore free to inflict whatever violence that Emily the Reactionary desires, and it is in pursuit of this freedom that the reactionaries set off in the name of New Sincerity (two things to be noted here: (1) the Death of Irony was proclaimed at the birth of the 21st century police state and the new Forever War with all of its genocidal objectives, that is to say, 9/11, and (2) the broken necked coward who complained of American Psycho that it’s author provided no easy outs for easy survival was the one who offed himself while Bateman’s father still lives) and the Talking Cure (i miss who we used to be), and at this you should see me slugging back the whole lukewarm glass in between two syllables and continuing on without pause (as if this dog still has legs on which to receive them in any case), “Emily, like Alex Jones, is so desperate for an excuse because neither of them can accept that they have to be the one that pulls the trigger, like all liars they don’t understand that they have to define reality by action, the answer to what one might do is found in the difference between the types of irony, one type is constantly desperate for excuses (such as the broken necked coward found one day) for violence, and the other irony, the true spice, is the irony that releases from excuses into violence and energy, one must seek not to know or endure but to inflict, knowing that this inflicting was always inevitable, no searching for justifications, instead the answer is to realize that there was never a chain there connecting you to the Master or the present to the past, and the Father/Mother never had the power of castration (the past, after all, is a foreign country bombed and blasted to ruins already and better forgotten), and you can just be fucked up and terrible and do whatever amuses you right now without needing an excuse, and to the extent that anyone should, one should, because that is what fascism needs, fascism needs the need for an excuse and that is the irony of fascism--where the falling angel (the superego) meets the rising ape (the id) in an ego of ultimate violence which seeks only release from both of its creations in an instinctually and totally misunderstood caricature of dialectics--which opposes its opposite irony (the irony without fascism which is the id’s violence against purpose and reason rising free of anything else to obstruct it), and if you let go of that, if you just, ya know, if you just, you just have to cut loose and go and no one can stop you until it is too late, because there’s no Jew sitting over your shoulder to justify everything in terms of opposition or support, not even The Nazarene is real, but do you understand that you’ve always been free to just go? You’re free to go. You’ve been free to go all this time. You never needed permission for this or anything else. You’ve been free to go all this time. You’re free to go. A whole day off. Just mind the mo(u)rning and get on with it.”
24 notes · View notes
thxngam · 3 years
Text
@icantthinkofausername613 asked, so here goes part 2 of sam seaborn-centric fics! i was gonna add onto the last one but that would be a rlly long fic, so @d1sasterbi, here’s part two of your ask!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592--Three wins by sloganeer: sam, during three elections! pretty short but it’s a good read :)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/66650--Five Things That Weren't Comforting by out_there: similar to a fic I put on pt 1 called called Sunshine Days but stil different! 5 AUs of stuff that never happened (personally, the second AU is my favorite) to Sam. it’s some great writing!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/66645--Initial Conditions by out_there: sam during SGTE, SGTJ from josh’s persective! it’s got some fairly explicit sex though in the middle, and i’m not ever sure it’s super sam-centric, but it’s definitely enough to qualify for this list. also, it’s so good! like sam and josh’s relationship, the way it’s written, i just...it’s so good.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/66649--The Right Word by out_there: clearly, this author is good! from’s sam’s pov as he tries to make sense of his relationship with josh and his view of writing and diction, yknow all those writerly things! a really good peak inside his head.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755--Everything he almost had by Punk: a kinda sad AU where bartlet isn’t so great and toby gets out and..well a lot. it’s a really good look at an AU version of sam where he’s not quite so sam-like with his ideals and his righteousness and his energy. this is quite good, i really suggest reading it
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495248--By Your Side by UndeadRobins: so cute and from sam’s pov so here it goes! it’s so good! a 5+1 of josh being a clumsy idiot and sam going with him to the hospital. very good and also sucha contrast from the last rec lol
https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162224--The Future Belongs by ETraytin: a way-in-the-future fic of the next gen of Seaborns to be president. very sweet! it’s just...it’s nostalgic for some reason, and it’s so cute and happy i just...ugh. it’s so fuckin positive lol
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925696--an american girl raised on promises by rillrill: female! sam. so good - sam has some, uh, questionable beliefs (internalized misogyny who?), but it’s such an interesting look at the character from a different lens. 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494772--Change by polyamorousgraysexual: sam and bartlet. sam had such interesting parallels with bartlet when he was there and this is sort of a culmination of all those things in one straight conversation. it’s got a fair bit of humor also it’s (i feel like i keep saying this but it’s sort of the point of this list) a nice examination of sam? like why he does what he does? it’s in 2nd person though, and while i’m not always a fan, that works rlly well for this fic!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950648--Learning How to Fly by Avon7: Sam’s thoughts on his inauguration. it’s like...so in character. it’s got all of sam’s twisty, wordy mental stops in one internal monologue on the biggest day of his life in the AU. so good. also what i think sam would think/say in canon if we ever got a seaborn for president scene in canon (idk why we would but if we ever did, this would be what happened)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12791685--Vere Vivere by ninjalanternshark: literally i’ve put this on so many lists. trans sam, and a lovely character study of him becoming who he always was and his career. i just...i really love this fic. sam’s a great character in canon, but AUs like these always my heart happy :)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2407673--Driving The Future by AndreaLyn: technically sam has literally no lines in this fic. but it’s also literally about sam. so. josh and leo have a conversation about Sam’s “lateral career slide”. I swear it’ll make sense if you read the fic and I like it so here ya go. 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/322850--Heart, Temper, Touch by @snowdarkred: another female!sam fic but also she’s a lesbian and people are bigots. it’s sam and her relationships with the rest of the senior staff and bartlet and how she navigates her career and her sexuality. this is a wonderful fic, it’s like...oddly gratifying. ive put it on more than one list, it’s so good!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/218297--Five Months by candle_beck: sam being hyperfixated on five months of his and josh’s relationship. it’s wonderful and so true to the character. sam hyperfocuses on these things and this is a really great fic that translates that to established-but-not-by-much samjosh
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11769843/1/Seaborn-for-America--Seaborn for America by Every Shade of Blue: so i dislike ff.net bc it’s format makes my eyes hurt and its tagging system is abysmal. all the same, i adore this fic and just about all of this author’s tww fic, which is mostly sam-centric if you’re interested! sam is gonna be president but is oddly surprised that nobody else is surprised.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180788--Half Light by an orphaned account: this fic is sad and does not have a happy ending but it’s got mallory in it! i’m also pretty sure i’ve answered another ask abt this. sam on his career, the events of 20 hrs in America (that’s what those two fics are called right?), and josh
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152565--Just a Cough by Nkala99: sam’s got asthma. like an idiot, he doesn’t tell his coworkers. is this an AU? yes. do I care? nope. should you read it anyway? yeah.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651001--Dark by WaterSoter: sam, after he’s been told the president has MS. so good and kinda heartbreaking? it’s written really well but it’s so sad to me
https://archiveofourown.org/works/326546--turning speechless by @snowdarkred: an extension of the parallels between Sam and Bartlet. tw for child abuse. really really good! 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159944--Articulation is to Reciprocation by @cauldronoflove: literally THE sam fic. if you read none of the other fics (which, shame on you), read this one. it’s sam’s whole ass thought process with humor and feelings and banter, i just...what can i say? i love this fic, i love this author, read it. read it twice
so this is long af and i considered breaking it into three but that seems excessive, even for me. if yall want me to do rec lists for the major senior staff i can try? i mean that might be fun. idk, lemme know.
anyway, i realy suggest you read all of these (and the fics in part one! the OG ask is here (https://thxngam.tumblr.com/post/650354718322966528/do-you-have-any-favorite-sam-centric-fics-for)). read them all. read them twice. and as always, leave a comment/kudos when you like something! it’s simple, free, and an easy serotonin boost for these authors!
27 notes · View notes
Note
Thank you very much for taking the time to answer! Tbh I'm really confused and upset over the whole thing. What you say makes sense, and I'm glad you share your perspective, but other people who call this article transphobic... I just don't get it. I saw people saying "the transwomen who agreed that's an issue are just transphobes themselves on a TERF's payroll like when US government had token black people defending segregation", and it just... makes zero sense to me. Maybe you or some of you followers know anything about this? And anyway I fail to see how "If someone doesn't want to have sex with you, leave it, no matter what the reason is" is transphobic. I guess there are some people who wouldn't date transpeople simply because they are trans, and probably that's transphobic, but what's the fun in dating/having sex with someone who doesn't really want this? Like, cis men are not called homophobes because they wouldn't have sex with gay men, but because they hate gay men for being gay. I think "I don't consider you a valid human being" and "You are a valid human, I'm just not interested in dating you" are different things. All this making one's sexual choices a matter of... social valor or social reward is strange, imo. I think it's totally possible to respect other people as people AND have no wish to date them at the same time. Sorry for the rant, I'm just really upset, I guess.
1. For a lotta people it's less about actually helping people and more about the populaity they get when they make posts condemning others. It's how the whole "woke" crowd works. And any disagreement just adds more people for them to cancel and more gratification for themselves. Especially when the other person wasn't being hateful.
2. It's not even transphobic to simple not want to date trans people. It's the reasoning behind it that MAY be transphobic. But not the idea itself. Trans people-- regardless of where they are in medical or social transitioning-- have a unique set of issues that they will have to deal with.
These issues can go from actual physical things to more mental issues. Some of them aren't too bad and some are a lot to deal with. For example, I do my hormones via a gel that I rub on my arms. So at night after I put it on I have to wear a long sleeve shirt so my gf doesn't get any of it on her (which can lead to health issues). That means in the summer I'm a lot hotter and cuddling isn't as easy. For someone who really likes cuddling that could be an issue. For others it might not be a big deal. Meanwhile on days when gender dysphoria is hitting really hard I tend to talk less, have less facial expression, and just overall seem out of it. For someone like my gf who has had a lotta trauma, me not having any expression or tone in my voice can sometimes put her into a fight or flight mode. For us, we are able to deal with it but I can completely understand someone not wanting to date someone who might go basically mute for a whole ass day with no expression on their face. I think it's understandable that might be a hard pass for some people. And I wouldn't be offended by it. I want someone who can handle me on those days.
There's a lot more that goes into not wanting to date trans people than what surgeries they have or haven't had. Even someone who's had all the surguries and passes perfectly will still have issues related to being trans. That they're partner will have to help deal with (whether it's directly or indirectly). And it's valid to just.... Not want to deal with any of that.
There are people who don't want to date people who have depression. And while that sucks, it's not a bad thing. They know what they can and can't handle. And they can't give a partner with depression everything they need. And that depressed person deserves someone who's comfortable and capable of giving them the support they need.
It's not transphobic to not want to date a trans person, regardless of where they are in the transition. It sucks and can make dating life harder for trans people. But why would you want to date someone who's not 100% comfortable with you in the first place??? I know it's tough and getting rejected can make dysphoria flair. But finding someone who loves you as you are is vital in having a healthy relationship.
The ONLY time it's transphobic to not date a trans person is if you don't see them as their actual gender.
Not transphobic: you're a beautiful women, but I'm not interested in dating you.
Transphobic: I don't want to date you cuz you're not a real women.
3. Someone can say no to dating someone because you have blond hair. And you know what??? That's valid. It's weird. But it's valid. And they have every right to say no for literally any reason. And they don't owe you an explanation. People can just say no. It's not always personal. With all the voices vouching for consent and boundaries you'd think people would be more welcoming of that idea.
5 notes · View notes
wolfcha1k · 4 years
Text
An analysis on Guy, Eep and Grug NOBODY asked for in Croods - A New Age but tough shit
Tumblr media Tumblr media
help
So its theory time :U Since this trailer seems to finally go into Guy’s perspective over things happening in the story. It seems like though Guy has been accepted into the Croods family, its not peaches and cream as one would think. Guy is used to having personal space, basically being able to have peace and quiet. Now after a lifetime of solitude [srsly, how long has he been alone??], this is a big adjustment for him. I don’t doubt he doesn’t care and love the Croods like family because they are his family now, he gave up a lot for them and Eep. There’s something of a culture difference between the family and him, with the Croods being used to being jam packed together and Guy who is more used to personal space.
Look how excited he gets over having his own space once they get to the Betterman Farm!
Tumblr media
This also translates into his relationship with Eep. If you notice in a lot of the teasers so far, they’re never alone together. Grug is usually looming in the background or the family is there, they’re even using Chunky of all things to try getting away from them.
[also judging by the weave work here on the wood she’s probably in one of the spare rooms at the farm and the fact the clip launched with ‘World’s First Crush’, it might be safe to say even Eep starts to enjoy having privacy since this means you know, more Guy time but I’ll get more into Eep and what I think their ‘conflict’ will be later!] 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
but ofc Grug is still there getting in their way, and if you’re a teenage boy in love with a girl, it bites hard that you can’t just enjoy one on one time alone with her. They keep getting interrupted whether it be by animals, the family, Grug or nature itself; that would cause tension for anyone’s relationship. Guy even needs to explain to Eep what privacy is and knowing how she lived, ofc this is a real weird and exciting concept for someone so used to having other people breathing down her neck.  
This translates into his relationship with Grug because I personally feel this has nothing to do with Eep herself and Guy doesn’t hold that against her. Grug is mentioned in interviews that he’s “not ready to accept Eep is all grown up and has her relationship with Guy” and that “she’s ready to leave the pack”, as Grug calls it. 
They survived the end of the world, but dynamics change, and I love continuing with where do Eep (Emma Stone’s character) and Guy (Ryan Reynolds) leave off (with their romantic relationship) and how does Grug (Nicolas Cage) accept the change that his daughter is now grown up? So we definitely further those themes of a father not wanting his daughter to leave “the pack” – as they call it – but she’s ready, and her relationship with Guy starts off where it ended in the first film.
Guy even causes what seems will be quite a fight when he tells Grug to chill out after Grug mentions “the pack is stronger together”. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Grug probably wouldn’t be having this kind of fear if there was nothing to fear. It might be safe to say Guy and Eep are planning to leave the nest to be on their own. They’re both young adults and in love, its a natural step in a relationship to want to fly the coop. This snippet here really gives me those “engagement/promise ring” vibes with how Guy is holding the rock drawing and Eep is reacting. 
Tumblr media
Just what did he say before this? They’re also huddling away and discussing privacy, perhaps it was the lead up into “Hey Eep, let’s move out”, or whatever the caveman version of it is.
and Grug is watching them very worriedly. 
Tumblr media
There is something up going on with them now, and though Grug has accepted Guy and Eep, this isn’t a step he’s ready for as a father [and honestly probably after surviving The End/repaired his relationship with Eep, didn’t think would be coming this soon]
This segment in the interview really heavily implies these sort of things too:
The world is always changing, and families also change. As a father, Grug’s maybe not ready for the next step of his daughter leaving home. And with Eep and Guy I thought, “This is a great opportunity to now hand it off to them.” In the first movie it’s like puppy love between Eep and Guy. They meet each other, and they’re in love. But they’re the only two teenagers in the world, so of course they love each other. This story answers the question of why they actually belong to each other. Through the course of this story, we challenge what their relationship means, and why they should spend their future together.
You don’t talk about challenging what a relationship means and what their future will be without planning something surrounding that. They are planning and its freaking Grug out.
I also think in Grug’s own way he doesn’t want to see Guy go either, since it must say a lot about how different the dynamic of Guy and Grug’s relationship as a son and father figue have shifted if Guy feels he can tell Grug to calm down and also flirt/court Eep with protective daddy vision on him all hours of the day. When the Betterman’s show up, I am convinced Grug is going to get defensive over Guy bc he’s now as good as his son.
There’s also these little moments which seem pretty small but:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[as sour as Guy looks here, it probably means a lot for Grug to actually let Guy be in their sleep pile]
Tumblr media
[also look how pure and excited Guy is to share about the shower with Eep and Grug]
I feel Grug does care for Guy but being how Grug is has unintentionally made Guy feel like an outsider in the Croods clan.
Now, back to the Bettermans and Guy. The lifestyle they live is clean, modernized and has routine, things Guy is probably craving with an inventive mind such as his. He’s just in heaven rn. These people are more like him than the Croods are, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. The Croods are still important to him but it probably feels invigorating to meet likeminded people.
You can already tell in the trailers Guy is going to form a bond with them. Part of me doubts they’re actually related to Guy like as parents and a sister but I won’t rule out the possibility, considering how invested Phil seems to be with Guy in a lot of the teasers and trailers. Perhaps they’re extended family or old family friends who knew Guy’s, we won’t know yet.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This bond I feel will be the prime focus of the film and conflict as well. [and no, not in the love triangle way concerning Dawn, there’s already an interview disproving that!]
“It seems from the trailer that Kelly Marie Tran’s Dawn and Emma Stone’s Eep hit it off immediately…” There’s definitely a lane that is driven a lot in romantic comedy type things where the new girl is the cause of jealousy. With Eep and Guy, when this other girl comes into the picture it would have been easy to go, “Oh, she could be the romantic rival.” We made the purposeful decision to not go down that lane.
However I do think his friendship with Dawn will be something as a compare/contrast with how Eep treats her. Both are doing what they feel is better and right for the sheltered girl, with Eep wanting to take Dawn outside the wall and Guy getting upset when he finds out Eep took her out.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He’s obviously going to catch them and lecture Eep about this. Now, how does Eep feel about Guy’s shift?
At first, I really think she supports him on connecting with the Bettermans and all the stuff he wants to do. Guy is quirky, he’s inventive, and likes to push the mold in what he can change to make life easier on himself and the people he loves. This place is his Utopia and considering the exchange she has with Grug over “a little change isn’t the end of the world”, she probably is willing to give the farm a chance because she knows Guy has been feeling lost and probably the butt of the joke lately [least where Grug is involved]
Tumblr media
We also know Eep loves to try new things, she just in general loves new. Its what attracted her to Guy and even after it all, still loves Guy. 
However, this is what I believe is going to be the start of the conflict between Eep and Guy too. Guy starts to change too much and Guy being Guy probably doesn’t realize it. She starts seeing the farm as another cave, another place to hide and seeing Guy thriving here probably makes her feel worried about what this means for them as a couple. That wall like Eep said is Dawn’s cave, and Guy probably doesn’t think of it that way after a lifetime of danger and being on the run from The End. Also the private bedroom probably helps
Tumblr media
Anyway, what was I saying?
also something I noticed was when they first arraive in the elevator you got Guy looking at Eep to see her reaction to this place. He’s obviously hoping she’s finding the Bettermans has amazing as he is.
Tumblr media
and just look how happy he looks seeing Eep isn’t going to freak out at Dawn I guess??? lol 
Tumblr media
Just “these two worlds are melding nicely”
However something I think is going to happen as the premises of the movie is both families settling their différences aside/celebrating them, is that somewhere along the line as Eep and Guy get closer to Dawn, there’s going to be a shift. The Bettermans perhaps act uppity with the Croods since they are cavemen and deemed less intelligent, so you got Guy stuck in the middle with his two found families trying to co-exist [also Eep too, bc her friendship with Dawn is obviously a major plot thread of the film]
Eep takes Dawn out for a joyride and the two bring in danger that followed them there.
Tumblr media
“What’s on the other side of the wall?”
also totally predicting some kind of reveal that makes Guy have a temporary fall out with Phil, I don’t know why but its just a vibe I’m getting. Phil looks scared and Guy looks pretty pissed off while asking about the wall. That or he says something about the Croods themselves he feels is too far, I mean, Guy looks rather uncomfortable here as Phil says “We’re an evolved people” pretty smugly. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Phil those are my future in-laws, stop”
He’s also seated on their side of the table, keep note of that with the Croods on the other. There’s going to be a sense torn between both worlds going on for Guy in this film, at least I think so. And its going to challenge him and how he cares for Eep and the Croods. 
Leading into Eep and the Croods.
The big bad shows up, wrecks some shit and abducts everyone, at least it seems like it here.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“The only way to survive is if the pack stays together”, this whole adventure reminds Guy of his place in the Croods family and gives Eep and Grug a better understanding of what Guy is feeling/going through.
People loved The Croods, and they’d been trying to make another one… but it’s a high bar. I can say this because I didn’t work on [the first film], it’s a beautiful movie. It’s funny, and it’s about family. I was like, “I want to see the continuation of where we left off with these characters.” Especially with the father/daughter aspect of the first one, and going, “Now that Grug has accepted Guy into his pack, and has this great relationship with his daughter, where do they go from there?”
Something tells me Guy and Eep have their big blow up somewhere around Rafikzilla shows up, and after getting separated, Guy has a heart to heart with Grug about Eep and just their strained relationship in general. They patch things up, and together with Phil go forth to kick some monkey ass. And they reunite and things are okay again. Blah, blah, blah. Wow this got weak near the end, um but this interview sums it up pretty good for me tho.
“Was it always the idea to introduce a second family?” Yeah, that was there in my first pitch. You have the Croods come across another family, the Bettermans, who are a more evolved family, and these two families couldn’t be more different. The Croods lead with their heart, and the Bettermans lead with their brain. Of course, there’s conflict, they face challenges, but they learn to appreciate each other’s differences – not just to live with each other’s differences but to almost celebrate them. There’s a lot going on. There’s a lot of characters in this one. There’s a lot of wonderful, powerful themes. But it’s a ridiculous comedy too.
Basically, Guy is having a midlife crisis at the age of 19 and gets his shit together, Eep gets a better understanding of her boyfriend, and Grug finally backs tf off so we can get Croods 3 where Eep and Guy have a kid :U also I’ve been calling A New Age the “Shrek 2″ of the Croods in terms of how the story seems to be shaping up with Guy, Eep and the two families, I’m hoping I’m right because that would be some delicious development to see.
46 notes · View notes
glorious-spoon · 4 years
Text
The Light of Distant Stars [The Old Guard]
Or: the space opera AU that would not end, part 1 of who the hell knows how many
[Warnings: referenced character death (of old age), canon-typical violence]
On AO3
They leave Earth in the spring of 2340, six months after the dreams start. The irony of the interstellar age, Nile thinks, is that it makes finding each other almost as difficult as it must have been thousands of years ago, when humanity was bound by oceans and long stretches of land, the trek across the Atlantic every bit as daunting as the trek to Alpha Centauri today.
In this case, at least they know where they’re going. It’s getting there that poses a problem.
“I can get us passage,” Booker says. “That’s not really the issue.”
Nile doesn’t look away from the window, the scattered lights of the city reflecting in the dark water lapping at the base of the building. “What is the issue, then?”
Booker sighs expressively, which is fair, probably. She knows. It’s been decades since she’s visited her mother’s grave, her brother’s. But knowing that she could is… something, at least. Quynh is in the Caucasus, or at least Nile is pretty sure that’s where she disappeared to, visiting the unmarked place where Andy’s ancient bones are buried. She’ll make that trip herself soon. Right now, she just wishes desperately that she could talk to her old friend and mentor just one more time. That she could have her dry wit and unsentimental kindness and advice; that she could have someone else to make the call. It should be Quynh, as the oldest of them, or Nicky and Joe as the most stable, but somehow that duty has fallen to Nile. Andy called that right from the beginning.
Lucky her.
“Okay,” she says eventually. “Yeah, it’s a problem, but we don’t all have to go.”
Booker huffs, but it’s Nicky who answers, gently. “Yes, we do.”
“Hm,” Joe says. It wouldn’t be clear who he was agreeing with if Nile hadn’t known him for more than three centuries
She closes her eyes. The images from the dream are easy to call up: a young woman’s terrified face in the instant before the airlock failed and sucked her out into the black. She’s pretty in a West Asian sort of way that reminds Nile, with a sharp pinch to her heart, of Dizzy. Pretty until hard vacuum got to her, anyway. It didn’t take them that long to retrieve her, but she must have died a dozen times between that first death and her gasping and puking awake on the steel slab in the shipboard morgue.
It’s a hell of an introduction to immortality. No wonder Quynh has gone so still and distant in the past few months.
Since then it’s all been just flashes: the infirmary ceiling, a small cell. Doctors in PPE. Needles in her arm and rapid, relentless questions. It takes them at least a week of dreams between the three of them to get her name, though. Iesha Haddad-Smith. Joe barks out a laugh when Nile wakes to tell them after a flash of medical documents on an old hard-screen showed up.
“What?” she asked.
“Iesha,” he said. “She who lives.”
“Jesus,” Nile sighed. Sometimes, she can understand why Andy was the way she was, back when they first brought her in. Kidnapped her, whatever. The distinction seems less important now than it did at the time. “Poor kid.”
“She has us,” Nicky offered. “Or she will.”
So, yeah. Leaving her alone isn’t exactly an option, Nile knows that. Doesn’t make the choice easy.
It’s easier--a little easier, anyway--when Quynh comes in off of a trans-continental flight two days later and takes a ferry lift to the 300th floor loft that Nile keeps in Dubai, which everyone else has been using as a crash pad in the months since the dreams started. Nicky and Joe, at least, have their own place. Or places, rather, hideaways and cottages and stretches of untouched land passed down through generations of sons and fathers who might as well be twins on the identity records. Booker keeps an apartment in Paris, when he’s not off brooding darkly somewhere or crashing on Nile’s couch. Quynh does her own thing. They see less of her since Andy died, but she’s here now, stepping down from the landing pad in flowing gauze and beaded hair, sensor pads wrapped around her wrists and hands. Like all of them, she has no implants, a habit that’s becoming a quaint affectation these days.
Sooner or later, it’ll be dangerously strange. Another thing they’ve had to deal with over the years: their healing will allow no implants, not even something as simple as a piercing. Nile has earrings in piercings that she got at the Lake Meadows Shopping Center sometime around Christmas of 2002, slightly off-angle punch-piercings administered by some long-dead college student.
They’re becoming increasingly out of step with the modern world, she thinks, although that’s probably been true for centuries before she died for the first time. Quynh was born before the rise of the Roman empire and spent centuries trapped beneath the water; the twenty-first century must have been as foreign to her as the twenty-fourth sometimes feels to Nile.
Quynh accepts the hugs that Nicky and Joe offer, inclines her head to Nile, and tosses a wrapped package to Booker. He catches it catches with a smile.
“Koumiss?” he asks, unwrapping it and peering inside. “You shouldn’t have. Really.”
“You’re welcome,” Quynh says, with a rare smile. “On the condition that you don’t breathe anywhere near me after you drink it.”
“Who said I planned to drink it? I thought I’d keep it to a monument to Andy and her absolutely appalling taste in booze.”
Centuries ago, that might have stung. In this moment, though, a smile crinkles Quynh’s eyes as Joe lets out a bark of laughter. “I still remember the first time I tried it. Taraz, what was it--1250? I thought the hangover would last for a week.”
“She did warn you,” Nicky says, also smiling. “Quynh. It’s so good to see you.”
“And you,” she said. “Nile.”
Nile shrugs, spreads her hands, and smiles. “I guess we got one more for dinner, then. Lucky for you, Nicky’s cooking.”
“The rest of you will have to learn sometime,” he calls back, retreating into the kitchen, from which a pleasantly savory smell is starting to emerge. Nile doesn’t know what he’s making, and isn’t even sure that the pots and pans were actually in there when he and Joe arrived; it’s completely possible that he looked at her kitchen, which is pristine in a way that can only be achieved by living exclusively on takeout, and ordered a full set of cooking implements to be delivered along with the ingredients.
“Now, why would I do that when I have you?”
“She’s using you for food, habibi.”
“As if you haven’t been for centuries.”
“At least I can cook.”
“Hey,” Nile says. “I’m a modern woman, and doorside delivery is a gift of the modern world.”
Booker snorts without looking up from his screen. “Ain’t none of us modern, kid.”
“Well,” Quynh says. “One of us is, now.”
That’s enough to turn the mood in the room serious. Nile rubs a hand over her head, then says, “Yeah. We were trying to figure out what to do about that.”
Quynh gives her a blank stare. “We go after her. Of course. Are we taking a vote?”
Booker laughs roughly, and Joe shakes his head. From the kitchen, Nicky calls, “I told you.”
“Okay, okay,” Nile says. “Yeah, I guess we’re all for it then. Let’s do this.”
54 notes · View notes
jaxsteamblog · 4 years
Text
Avatar Thuy
Click here to read the full fic on AO3
“Spirits, I should never have asked you.” Thuy muttered as she rounded another corner.
“It’s not my fault you can’t follow directions.” His tone was so irritating, Thuy had to stop, squeeze her eyes shut, and count to ten.
“Kuruk. You haven’t been GIVING me directions!” Thuy hissed.
“I told you to take a left after the scholar’s hall.” Kuruk snapped in reply.
“It was just another empty room. They’re all empty rooms!” Thuy shouted in exasperation. With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“It’s really not that hard.” Kuruk said sullenly.
“I’ve never been to the North Pole before.” Thuy said.
“No. Because you were born in a swamp.” Kuruk snorted and Thuy felt her shoulders fall as her anger left her in a rush.
“A swamp. The most powerful Waterbender since me is born in a disgusting-”
“You mean since Master Katara.” Thuy interrupted, now continuing down the hall.
“Excuse me?” Kuruk asked, his voice dripping with disdain. Thuy smiled to herself.
“Master Katara surpassed you when she was my age, and you were the Avatar.” She said.
“That girl-”
“-is twice the Bender you were, yes.” Thuy finished for him. “It’s a good thing you were the Avatar because you certainly weren’t going to make a name for yourself as a Waterbender.”
“Why you-”
“Goodbye Kuruk.” Thuy said sharply before severing her connection.
It had been nice as a child when she talked to Aang. He had been a grandfather and was very easy to talk to. Thuy wasn’t overly fond of Roku, but that was mostly because he was a bit stiff. Kyoshi was fantastic, which made it all the worse when Kuruk turned out to be so. Bad.
Still feeling smug, Thuy meandered for a bit longer in the halls. It was a long standing habit that when it got a little too people-y, she’d disappear. But this wasn’t the Swamp, where she could never get lost. The North Pole palace was just a series of buildings erupting from the ice around the important open spaces, like the dining hall. All she needed was a quiet space to process things, but so far every room she found was too big.
And she really didn’t want to be found before she was ready.
It had been her choice to come forward, and she told her parents she was fine leaving the Swamp for this debut, but nothing had been fine. Being so far from her roots made her feel raw and exposed. Plus, finally meeting her heroes in the flesh did not go as well as she had hoped.
Sadness drowned out her smug pride as Thuy recalled Katara’s stony look when they were introduced. Zuko had been much kinder, but in a polite, political sort of way. And Katara had been the one Thuy wanted to meet the most; seeing her so cold was like grabbing the blade of a knife.
“Avatar Thuy?” A voice called out in stunned surprise.
With a jump, Thuy turned around. It was one of the Kyoshi Warriors.
“Oh, um, Suki?” Thuy asked, trying to remember her name. The smile told her she was right.
“Were you looking for something?” Suki asked as she got closer.
“No.” Thuy said, shaking her head. “I just needed to take a break.”
Suki examined her for a second and then gave her a softer smile.
“Well, we’re close to my room. Come on.” She said.
Thuy looked at her in alarm. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I’m a Kyoshi Warrior after all, so how could I offer anything else?” Suki replied lightly.
Thuy looked down, tugging on her parka.
“I’m not…” She said quietly, her voice fading into nothing.
“But you are.” Suki said firmly, putting her hand on Thuy’s shoulder. As Thuy looked up, Suki gestured with a tilt of her head.
“Come on.” She said. Leading the way, Suki guided Thuy further down the hall and into a room. It was small, as most of the common sleeping quarters were, but it was still well decorated. When they walked in, a vent somewhere in the ceiling clicked on and Thuy felt a cloud of warm air fall down the back of her neck.
“I don’t know how it all stays frozen.” Thuy said.
Suki paused, looking around, and shrugged.
“It must be sea ice. I can’t imagine fresh water holding up this way.” She said.
Thuy stared at one wall, tapping her lip.
“Don’t lick the wall.” Suki said suddenly and Thuy turned quickly.
“I wasn’t!” She blurted and Suki chuckled.
“That’s just the first thing I’d expect Sokka to do.” She replied.
Suki moved around the room and Thuy stood still, watching her. The Kyoshi Warrior was not a very big woman; Thuy was only thirteen and already as tall.
“You know that doesn’t matter.” Kyoshi’s voice rippled up in Thuy’s mind, and she blushed.
“You’re engaged to Sokka, right?” Thuy asked. Suki, stopping at a large wardrobe, nodded.
“Yeah.” She said, sounding wistful, and a smile curled up the corners of her mouth.
“So, do you know Master Katara?” Thuy questioned.
Suki pulled open the doors of the wardrobe and looked over at her.
“Of course. We spent a lot of time together in the war.” She answered. As she leaned into the wardrobe, Thuy looked down, tugging on her parka again.
“Does she hate me?” Thuy asked.
Suki didn’t reply, but Thuy kept her eyes down. She heard the wardrobe shut and felt the air sway as Suki walked back over.
“She doesn’t hate you.” Suki said.
Thuy looked up and saw Suki holding a bunch of green fabric.
“What’s that?” Thuy asked, scrutinizing the fabric.
“They’re your robes.” Suki said, shaking her arms out to get Thuy to take them.
“My robes?” Thuy, stunned, took the robes automatically. They were heavy and Thuy took in a sharp breath.
“There was supposed to be a whole thing.” Suki said, waving a hand dismissively. “But that’s not how we do things.”
“But I haven’t trained!” Thuy said in a panicked rush.
“You are Avatar Kyoshi, so they’re yours by right. If you want to train, I would be happy to make you, Thuy, a Kyoshi Warrior.” Suki replied.
“But I’m.” Thuy choked on her words, gripping the robes tightly. It was too much, and she started to cry.
Suki looked sad as she sighed.
“I know I’m going to say the wrong thing because I’ve never, you know, dealt with something like this before.” She started as Thuy sat down, burying her face in the robes.
Crouching down, Suki put her hand on Thuy’s back, lightly rubbing the space between her shuddering shoulders.
“The Warriors are traditionally a sisterhood, yes, but anybody can wear the robes and wield the fans.” Suki said.
Thuy’s heart broke in her chest and she cried harder. Still, as Suki sat down and gathered Thuy in her arms, she leaned into the embrace.
“But that’s not what I’m trying to say. The point is, the robes don’t care about the shape of the body. You are a woman. You belong in the sisterhood exactly as you are.” Suki continued.
Thuy’s crying lessened, but she remained curled against Suki’s side.
“Is that why you think Katara hates you?” Suki inquired gently.
Thuy shook her head. Taking a deep breath, she slowed her shuddering lungs and pulled away. Unfurling herself, Thuy laid out the robes across her legs before pressing her chilled hands against her hot, puffy face.
“Not a lot of people know that I’m…” Thuy fought against the tightness in her throat. “Trans.”
“I only figured it out because of your animal companion.” Suki said.
Confused, Thuy only looked at Suki, who shrugged before leaning back on her hands.
“Avatar Aang’s companion was a male Sky Bison. Roku’s dragon was male. Kyoshi’s was female. Kuruk’s was male. Yangchen’s was female. Yadda yadda.” Suki said, looking up at the ice ceiling.
“Not a lot of people know that Mister Whiskers is a girl.” Thuy said.
“The girls are smaller and have an even number of spine ridges.”
“How do you know that?”
“I took a single zoology class at a community college once.”
Thuy laughed as Suki rolled her head over to look at her.
“Let’s get you dressed and you can tell me why you think why Katara hates you.” She said.
Thuy looked up in alarm as Suki stood.
“Now?”
“Why not? You’ve got time to kill before your next event.”
Suki helped Thuy disrobe; she simply wasn’t used to all the layers and buttons of the arctic clothing. Seemingly more at ease with it, Suki made quick work of it all. As the cold air hit her skin, Thuy went silent, but Suki didn’t even flinch with curiosity. She only spun out the wide fabric before wrapping Thuy in the heavy expanse of emerald green.
“When you’re all done growing, you might actually fit in Kyoshi’s robes.” Suki remarked as she tied everything up.
“Is that even allowed?” Thuy asked.
“Sure. It’s just cloth. It’s going to rot away at some point anyway, might as well get the Avatar to wear it again.”
“Did Aang not?”
Suki shook her head, focusing on a smaller tie.
“I don’t think he ever wore anything other than his robes.” She answered.
Thuy went quiet as she thought. This was the first time she had actually spoken with the captain of the Kyoshi Warriors and she had already started crying. But then again, it felt like she had known the Warriors all of her life.
“Kyoshi thinks you’re a good leader.” Thuy said.
The robe slackened as Suki lost her hold on the fabric and Thuy winced.
“You talk to her?” Suki asked, her voice muted.
“I can talk to all of them, but it’s easier to speak with Aang since he was right before me.” Thuy said.
“Well. That certainly isn’t daunting.” Suki said with a laugh, finishing her ties.
“A lot of them are nice. Except Kuruk.” Thuy added with a growl in her tone.
“Really? I would have thought-”
“He’s an asshole.” Thuy interrupted.
Suki snorted and moved to the wardrobe.
“Not surprising. I mean, have you talked to some of the people around here?” She asked.
“Sokka and Master Katara are different.” Thuy said.
“Well, they’re from the South Pole.” Suki replied.
“Can you tell me about them?” Thuy questioned.
Suki turned, holding a wooden box, and smiled.
“I’ll be doing your makeup so you won’t be able to talk. I guess I can keep you entertained.” She replied and walked back.
Thuy noticed how Suki moved and was struck by it. For how small and physically feminine Suki was, she still moved with strong, sure steps. She walked like a man that had been trained to move delicately.
Kyoshi had spoken of course about her training. How her mother’s fans had ended up in a man’s hands. How her large feet had traced their own steps through her mother’s faded footprints. There was masculine and feminine in everything a Kyoshi Warrior did. Life was a woman’s gift, and death was a man’s burden, but a Kyoshi Warrior stood as a protector and a fighter. They wore robes like a scholar with their faces painted like the finest courtly dancers that had brushed her father's face. They were never just one thing, because a Warrior had to become one made of many.
Suki gestured for Thuy to kneel on one of the floor cushions and she did so while Suki unpacked the wooden box on a low table.
“I’ll tell you the story of how we first met.” She said, bringing over ancient clay pots and brushes.
~
Suki held her basket low at her hip as she casually looked over the meager items at the stall. From the corner of her eye she marked three other Warriors taking their positions at other stalls. They had been watching this dock for weeks, waiting for the right moment to take one of the ships, but nothing had come in.
The colony here was established purely to support the blockade. It dealt in fuel and rations, not bothering to create anything more human for the inhabitants. A single bar and pavilion served as cultural entertainment, but they were mostly utilized to numb the sailors and broadcast imperial propaganda.
Then they got word that a ship was pulling in to transport prisoners. Two blockade runners, nothing new. A few of those trickled in every season, or so the colonists said.
Hopefully the banality meant that it was a lightly armed ship that was mooring.
But as the figures descended the gangplank, Suki froze.
Water Tribe, their parkas reminding her painfully of home. A young man and woman, close to her own age. Both of them beautiful in their absolute rage.
“Aw, poor things. Probably starving and trying to find some food.” The woman behind the stall remarked.
“The rats should be used to the ice.” A man said, making Suki frown. “They should know better than to mess with the imperial ships.”
“Hush! They’re probably orphans.” The woman remarked sharply.
“And? I heard they leave their babes on the ice to hunt like animals.” The man replied.
“Just this today.” Suki said, taking the woman’s attention as she handed over a couple of coins.
“Thank you dearie.” The woman replied and Suki waved before walking off.
She had to get on that ship.
There was not a lot of cover for the Warriors to hide in around the town. Fire Nation policy was to raze the surrounding area and fortify it, leaving nothing to chance. Outside of the rusting metal walls were the sparse grazing grounds and rocky farms. She and a small clutch of Warriors were sleeping in a barn while the others were further away from the guarded perimeter.
This port was sloppy, which is why Suki had picked it, but it was sloppy because it was difficult to move unseen.
“The captain is staying in town for a few days. He expects summons from the governor.” Ji-won said as Suki sat back in a hay pile.
“And why does he think that?” She asked.
“One of the prisoners he brought in is a Waterbender.” Ji-won said. The other women stilled, their surprise registering quietly in their minds.
Suki frowned.
“The Avatar?” She asked.
“He’s saying so.” Ji-won answered.
“Probably why they’re still alive.” Song interjected.
“Suki, we can’t let them take the Avatar.” Ji-won pressed.
Suki frowned harder but didn’t reply.
“Suki.” Ji-won said and Suki glared at her.
“I know.” She snapped. Then, with a sigh, she rubbed her eyes. “We just don’t have the fans for a full assault.”
“But the Avatar can help us.” Ji-won said, her voice breathy with anticipation.
“We don’t know if the Bender is the Avatar. They could just be a Waterbender.” Suki said, looking pointedly at every woman there.
“But there’s a chance.” Song said softly.
“Avatar Aang died only a few years ago. The Avatar would only be a child, and even the girl looked at least my age.” Suki pointed out.
“If that was Avatar Aang.” Ji-won started and Suki leaned forward, pointing at her.
“Don’t start with that conspiracy. That’s gotten a lot of people killed.” Suki said sharply.
Ji-won looked away and Suki sighed again.
“More importantly, we can’t let another Waterbender die. It’s our job to keep the balance when the Avatar isn’t around.” She went on.
It was an oath they all took. By taking on Kyoshi’s name, by becoming her when they wore the uniform, they swore to uphold her responsibilities as the Avatar. Even lacking any bending ability, they worked to protect the balance as Kyoshi.
“So we rescue them?” Song asked.
“Yes. And we have to move tonight. We don’t know what they’re going to do to them.” Suki said.
“I’ll send a message to the others.” Ji-won said.
“Alright ladies, finish eating then suit up.” Suki said, looking around. “We have a ship to take.”
Knowing that they weren’t going to be leaving through the gate, the Kyoshi Warriors didn’t need to deal much with stealth. The moon was shrouded in clouds and only their white faces barely caught in flood lights lining the wall. The guardhouse on the northern side was lightly manned, so Suki went in and dispatched the few men sleeping inside.
Weeks of observation told her what she needed. What keycards could open doors and which locks could be cut with a fan. The reliance on technology only went so far when the intruders were ready for a fight. Alarms were tripped, but military protocol would be followed. The Fire Nation was nothing if not thorough.
Heading south, the Kyoshi Warriors darted through residential lanes and alleys. A curfew meant they didn’t need to hide from a crowd, but it did mean that the streets were monitored.
Still, it was a cloudy night and this was a sloppy port.
The actual jail was a bit trickier. Suki didn’t have a layout of the building, having made it a point not to get arrested.
But all she had to do was get in.
All of the windows of the low building were barred and there were only two doors. The back was sealed off; the only latch being on the interior side.
Taking their positions across the street, hiding in the padded shadows, Suki examined the front door. The one small window at the front was illuminated with bright fluorescent light. There was nothing to signal that anyone knew about the dead guards in the north, or that they were leaving to attend to it.
“I need a bucket of water.” Suki said. A Warrior disappeared without a word and the others waited.
“We push our way in and get the water as far back as possible. There should only be holding cells, and if we get the water to the Bender, we might be able to do this.” Suki explained.
“Wouldn’t there be the plumbing?” A Warrior asked.
“We should assume they’ve turned off the water.” Suki replied.
The sound of sloshing water came up to her side and Suki took a deep breath.
“Go.” She said.
And they went.
Front door was a bottleneck and Suki went first. Fans blocked the first assault of fire but the guns were certainly next. One fan left her hand and caught a guard in his neck. Disarming was not an option tonight.
The others broke in behind her, sweeping out to encompass the few in the lobby. A klaxon went off and the lights snapped off, with the low emergency floor lights coming on shortly after. The noise became a metronome and the Warriors pushed forward. The water bucket was tossed like a ball, playing keep away from the armed guards. Suki was able to retrieve her stained fan and she sliced open the lock to the back room.
It was a small building and they quickly filled the space. Three holding cells were simple spaces walled with bars.
And the water bucket when tumbling end over end toward them.
Immediately, Suki watched as the young woman gathered the water in her arms like so much washing. A thick whip lashed out at the bars and pieces slid slowly before clattering to the floor.
Ice made quick work of the fight, but then the pair disappeared through the backdoor.
“Don’t lose them!” Suki called out and the Warriors darted out the back door after them.
Marking the wounded, Suki sent them out toward the ship, to watch it and keep it from leaving. Then she went after the Water Tribals.
“Katara, you don’t know where you’re going!” The young man called out in the darkness.
Suki seized on that, running faster to close the distance.
“Please! Let us help!” She yelled recklessly into the darkness.
“Katara, stop!” The young man demanded.
The Waterbender stopped, turning sharply and pulling up a wall of ice spikes, pointed directly at the pursuing Kyoshi Warriors.
“We’re on your side!” Suki said as she pulled up short, skidding on the broken concrete alley.
“Why did you help us?” The young woman, Katara, asked.
“We’re the Kyoshi Warriors, that’s what we’re supposed to do.” Suki said.
“I don’t know what that is.” Katara retorted. “How do I know you’re not one of them?”
“Suki, there’s activity at the harbor.” Ji-won said. “We have to go.”
“Come with us.” Suki pleaded. “We’re taking a ship to fight.”
Katara looked at her companion and he nodded.
“Fine.” Katara said, melting the ice back into water and pulling it around her hands. “Let’s go.”
Having a Waterbender at a harbor proved useful and they took the ship easily. They only had to sail it up a short way to gather the rest of the Warriors before heading into the open sea. As soon as the port left their vision, Katara collapsed on the deck. The young man, who turned out to be her brother, laid her head in his lap.
“Is she?” Suki started cautiously.
“She’s exhausted.” The brother said and then looked up. “I’m Sokka.”
“Suki.”
“Thanks for rescuing us Suki.” Sokka said, turning back to Katara and brushing her hair out of her face. The gesture warmed Suki’s heart and she turned away.
“Of course.” Suki replied curtly.
“Katara is thankful too. She’ll be better in the morning.” Sokka said.
“It must’ve been hard.” Suki commented.
“You have no idea.” Sokka murmured. Something in his tone kept Suki from replying and she only watched them for a moment. Turning away, she went to find the captain’s quarters.
~
“We traveled with them for a few weeks and then separated when we went to go join the Earth Kingdom army.” Suki concluded.
“When did you fall in love with Sokka?” Thuy asked. Suki chuckled as she packed up the box.
“Aren’t you a romantic?” She quipped and Thuy smiled sheepishly.
“Let’s see, I knew I was in love when we were in the Fire Nation. Katara was so different after the North Pole and she hated the Fire Nation, but Sokka was trying to find something human in it all. None of us were happy when he went off with Piandao for training, especially Katara, but it made me realize that there was going to be a life after the war. And I wanted my life to be with him.” Suki explained.
“So will Katara like me eventually?” Thuy asked.
“I think she’ll like you a lot sooner than eventually.” Suki turned and examined her handiwork, nodding with a proud smile.
“I’m going to grab a camera, hold on.” She said and, before Thuy could reply, bolted out of the room.
Thuy sputtered as the door shut and she was alone. Now she really regretted leaving Mister Whiskers back in the heated nest.
“How does it feel?” Kyoshi asked so suddenly that Thuy jumped.
“Heavy.” Thuy remarked and Kyoshi laughed.
“The new recruits often said the same thing.” She said.
“I like Suki.” Thuy said, changing subjects.
“As do I. And she picked a strong partner.” Kyoshi added.
“They all went through a lot.”
“All who serve in war must give everything.”
“And Suki said that the Warriors act in the Avatar’s stead.”
“They do.”
“So what do they need me for?”
“You’re the Avatar.” Kyoshi said matter of factly.
“But what does that even mean anymore? Aang told me about the White Lotus, they don’t even need me for Spirit stuff and I wasn’t needed to end this war!” Thuy balked.
“There will be challenges only the Avatar can face.” Kyoshi stated.
“Or they just get eaten by Spirits.” Thuy muttered.
Kyoshi was silent and Thuy winced.
“Sorry.” She said.
“Yun was a good man, and didn’t deserve Jianzhu’s treachery. Nor did Kuruk deserve his fate.” Kyoshi said evenly.
“He mocked the Spirits!” Thuy retorted.
“If you believe someone can ever do something to deserve ill treatment, does that mean you deserve yours?” Kyoshi asked.
“What?”
“When you begin to believe that all people deserve to be treated well, you will have to face that that includes you.”
“I-” Thuy started but was interrupted as the door opened again.
“Hey Suki.” Sokka greeted as he stepped into the room, pushing the door shut with his foot.
“Actually-” Thuy started, trying to rise but catching herself on the robes.
Sokka’s eyes widened briefly before he threw himself down on the floor cushions next to her.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anybody had to be in uniform for this.” He said.
“Er.” Thuy stammered, sitting back down and looking away.
“Song?” Sokka asked.
Thuy faced him, confused.
“Shoot. I know you all do your makeup differently, but your’s looks just like Suki’s.” Sokka propped his head up as he laid on his side, tilting his head to examine her face. “But like, a reflection or something.”
“She…” Thuy looked down and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Did my makeup.”
“Oh you’re one of the new warriors!” Sokka pushed himself up quickly.
“I’m not-” Thuy held up her hands in alarm but Sokka made a dismissive sound and waved her away.
“Sorry about barging in here. I was just looking for Suki; do you know where she is?” He asked.
“She went to get a camera.” Thuy said softly.
“Oh wow! Is this your first time all done up?” Sokka asked and clapped as Thuy nodded.
“Congratulations!” He said enthusiastically and Thuy felt her cheeks burn.
“Are you excited about meeting the Avatar?” He asked.
“I really wanted to meet Master Katara.” Thuy said.
“Her? Why?” Sokka asked incredulously.
Thuy held her hands together and leaned forward excitedly.
“Master Katara is the most amazing Waterbender in our history! She saved the world. Well,” Thuy caught herself and sat back. “So did you.”
“Are you a Water Tribal?” Sokka asked curiously. Thuy shook her head vigorously.
“I’m from the Swamp.” She said.
“Oh, so you probably already know the Avatar.”
“We’re, acquainted.”
“Well my sister is pretty great, but she’s also a massive grump.”
“No!” Thuy said sharply and Sokka’s eyes widened. “Master Katara is an amazing warrior and I’m sure she’s just very serious.”
“Serious?” Sokka laughed and Thuy frowned in confusion.
“Katara can’t let herself enjoy anything or else she would implode.” Sokka stated. As Thuy deflated, Sokka sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I don’t want to tarnish your idea of her or anything, but Katara despises hero worship. Neither of us wanted to be heroes.” Sokka explained, holding the back of his neck and looking off in some distant memory.
“She’s really kind, though. When we lost our mother, I thought she’d never be happy again.” He went on.
“If the Avatar had shown up earlier-” Thuy stopped as Sokka scoffed. He reclined again, idly scratching his leg.
“And what? We toss a toddler at the Fire Lord? You seem to be around the same age as the Avatar and I still wouldn’t let you get within sight of that creep.” He said and finished quickly. “No offense.”
Thuy remembered her meeting with the Fire Lord and shuddered. She did not like him, or his daughter. But at least Zuko was polite.
“See?” Sokka said. “Katara wants to blame the Avatar because it’s easy. She doesn’t want to meet her because she knows when she does, the Avatar will be real and she’ll know it wasn’t her fault.”
“Maybe she’s right.” Thuy said.
“Come on know, aren’t you two kin? That’s no way to talk about the Avatar. I think she’s a nice girl.” Sokka said and Thuy lowered her head.
“So will Master Katara meet with,” Thuy cut off her words. “With the Avatar?”
“We’ve got dinner tonight don’t we?” Sokka asked and Thuy looked up.
“Katara doesn’t have it in her to hate good people. Especially not other Waterbenders. I think once they start talking, it’ll be fine.” He said.
“What would Master Katara even talk about?” Thuy asked nervously.
Sokka shrugged. “Probably Zuko.”
“They do go off together a lot.” Thuy remarked.
“That’s what girls do with their boyfriends.” Sokka said.
“What do girls do with their boyfriends?” Suki asked and Thuy leaned back.
“Disappear for some diplomatic briefing.” Sokka answered.
“Oh, are we talking about your sister and Zuko?” Suki questioned, sounding giddy as she sat down next to Thuy.
“Who else?” Sokka quipped.
“Who knew the Avatar was a gossip?” Suki elbowed Thuy and she felt a jolt of fear. Sokka only smiled, winking casually at her.
“Avatar Thuy was trying to argue that Katara wasn’t a grump.” He said. Thuy relaxed and felt tears sprout in her eyes.
“Oh she totally is. That’s why she and Zuko work so well.” Suki said.
“Zuko is not a grump, he’s refined.” Sokka countered.
“Zuko is a little bitch.” Another voice said from the door and Thuy shrank. Seeing Rohan, she tried to calm down.
“Hey, that’s the Avatar’s great-grandson or something.” Sokka said and Rohan rolled their eyes.
Roku, from somewhere deep in Thuy’s mind, grumbled.
“Is there something you need Rohan?” Suki asked.
“I wanted to see if Thuy was up for some ice shenanigans.” Rohan asked.
“Let me take a picture really quick.” Suki said, holding up a fancy camera.
“Allow me.” Rohan said, swirling their hand. The camera lifted and Suki shook her head, but still smiled.
“Okay, everyone get together.” Rohan said. Sokka and Suki got up and pushed themselves over to flank Thuy. Rohan set up the camera and then left it floating in the air.
Darting forward, the Airbender laid across all of their laps and the shutter snapped audibly as Thuy burst out laughing.
“Rohan! The camera!” Suki called.
“I got it.” Rohan said, rolling off and holding out their hands. As they and Suki examined the picture, Sokka nudged Thuy with his shoulder.
“Just be happy Thuy.” He whispered. “It’s what we fought for.”
Thuy nodded, smiling.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
10 notes · View notes
kindness-ricochets · 4 years
Text
SoC Hospital AU
First & most important, thank you to a friend for sensitivity reading this (not putting a name because I don’t have permission to do that, but you know who you are <3). Even so: I am a cis writer including a trans character, so if there’s anything wrong or inappropriate in the fic, please tell me. It is never my intent to cause anyone offense.
TW: misgendering (some out of ignorance, some less so), allusions to suicide attempts
This place was too cold. Jesper lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, with the covers pulled up to his shoulders. The crocheted blanket didn’t really keep him warm. As he tried not to die of boredom, he slid his fingers into the gaps and out, wriggled them all the way through and—
Crap.
He looked at the blanket. How had his knuckles made it through the weave only to get stuck?! Jesper tugged at it, but ultimately needed his other hand. His stitches hurt when he sat up.
It wasn’t like he had nothing to do, either. His homework was right there. A guy couldn’t even have appendicitis these days without a little APUSH reading to go along with it.
He poked at the stitches and resolved not to do it again.
The hospital was a boring place. Presumably the surgery itself had been a little more exciting. Jesper barely remembered it. How was that for a bit of luck?! One of the most exciting things to happen in a guy’s life and he was all delirious! So now he sat on a semi-comfortable bed in a too-cold room. He had a window, at least, not that he could see much through it. A curtain was drawn across the room long-ways, like he might get jealous of that empty bed and… and race them or something. Yeah, like rig up an oxygen tank and have a two-bed hospital race, that would be cool!
He wasn’t going to, but it was fun to imagine.
Jesper knew he should do some reading. Exams and all that. But he knew it was pointless, to. His mind would wander after a few minutes. And if he was being honest, he didn't actually want to study. Didn't he deserve a break? A proper sick day?
So he leaned back and decided if he was stuck on his own, he might as well entertain himself. He sang to himself. He started with “Walk the Line”—picked up courtesy of his father, who hadn’t even been born when it was first released, but played Johnny Cash all Jesper’s childhood.
It was a good song, anyway.
Jesper waited a moment after the end of it, pausing for an imaginary audience.
“Thank you so much, it’s an honor to be here tonight. Now, for my next hit, this is ‘Party in the CIA’ by Weird Al Yankovic…”
And obviously he had to do a few moves, it was a song that just begged for finger-guns, imaginary sunglasses, and pretend tie-straightening. He limited the moves after an objection from his stitches, but that in no way limited his good time. Except, Jesper had only got to a line that always got him—“We got snazzy suits and ties/and a better dental plan than the FBI’s!”—when he heard… laughter.
Jesper stopped the song.
“What the—I thought I was alone!”
There was no answer.
“Well, now I know I’m not, so you might as well speak up.” And ideally his roommate could confirm his age. Jesper was seventeen, so they had stuck him in the pediatric ward. He hoped he wasn’t bunking with a kid—that would be… weird. Plus he’d have to work on not cussing.
“H-hey,” said the other guy. He sounded a little younger, but Jesper couldn't be sure.
“Hey! So you like Weird Al?”
“Who?”
“Weird Al Yankovic. Never mind, never mind. How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Cool, I’m seventeen. So what’re you in for? I had my appendix out.” And his roommate was close to his age, so he had someone to hang out with! Jesper glanced at his APUSH book, then back to his fingers tugging at the blanket.
“Did it hurt?”
Jesper hadn’t initially said it was appendicitis. He hadn’t known. He thought he just felt miserable, but he didn’t want his parents to worry. By the time he couldn’t pretend anymore that he was okay…
“Nah. They knocked me out, anyway. I’m just bored.”
“Me, too.”
“Want to play Twenty Questions?”
“Sure. You pick something first.”
“Got it. It’s a person.”
The game continued for a while. It wasn’t Jesper’s favorite game in the world, but it kept him occupied—that and toying with the blanket—even as they got into an argument over whether or not “a field” counted as a thing. It totally did, a specific field would have been a place, but this was a kind of place, which was a thing. 
“No, a place is a place, you can’t just decide a place is a thing!”
“Yeah, if it were a specific place, but it’s not a place. It’s a category of places.”
“So a room would be a thing, but this room is a place?”
“Glad we agree.”
“That is ridiculous.”
Jesper laughed. He was about to retort that it wasn’t ridiculous, it was logical, when the door opened. 
“You look cheerful,” Aditi Hilli reported, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. Just cold and my stitches are itchy.”
“Itchy means healing,” she said, smoothing a hand over his hair. 
“There you go, siding with medicine again!”
He knew she only had a minute. She wasn’t treating him, that would be a severe conflict of interest, but she had found time in her shift to stop in. So Jesper didn’t waste time groaning. He didn’t even put up a fuss when she hugged him.
“Are you dizzy or in any pain?”
“No.” It was a medical question, but he understood that it was a mom question, too. It was a how are you question with more detail.
“Have you—”
“Ma, I love you, but I am not talking to you about pooping.”
“Honestly, Jesper, I changed your diapers.”
“Ma!”
“After an appendectomy—”
Jesper grabbed the pillow and wrapped it around his head like massive earmuffs as he informed her, loudly, “Not listening! Not listening!”
She shook her head at him and checked his chart. Okay, fine, she knew she could get that information. He still didn’t want to have the actual conversation. Seriously, was nothing sacred?
She set down the chart. He set down the pillow.
“I’m glad you’re okay, little rabbit.”
Jesper slumped just slightly. It was easy to shrug off being sick, but he knew his parents had genuinely been scared. He should have told them earlier, but that was easy to say in hindsight. But he was already enough of a disaster. Telling them meant giving them one more thing to worry about, and he had expected to hurt for a while and recover on his own.
“I love you, too. I’m fine, I promise, just… bored. Do you have my tangle? Or my zippers?”
“No, but your father’s coming to see you after work. He wanted to stay but I knew you wouldn’t like him hovering.”
“Thanks for taking care of us.”
“I’ll ask him to look for your things. Do you know where they are?”
“Um… y’know… I think I have a couple bracelets in the bathroom, and my tangle might be in the back pocket of my jeans. I’m sick,” he reminded her, playing up his ‘sick face’ to avoid hearing about how he needed to clean his room. He knew that. He didn’t mean to leave it a mess, he just kind of… forgot. The mess was organic. 
“I’ll ask him.”
She kissed his forehead and left. There wasn’t a lot of down time in hospitals. Well… there was. But it all went to patients.
After a moment, Jesper said, “So… you heard that.”
Great. His anonymous roommate had heard his ma talking about his messy room. Among more embarrassing things.
“She seems nice,” his roommate said. “My mom’s a nurse, so I’m used to… you know, being asked about symptoms.”
“Great, I can’t wait to hear about whether or not you’ve pooped.”
“I’m not here for poop-related reasons.”
Jesper laughed.
***
It was much later when his roommate’s mom visited. Jesper’s da had been in and gone. Like Aditi, Colm was glad to see his son recovering. He had a more frank, less clinical way of saying how worried he had been. He brought Jesper a hat and socks for the cold, and two zipper bracelets and his infinity cube, so the nothingness of the room stopped grating on his nerves quite so badly. The feeling was difficult to describe—it was like having this emptiness building up against him so he couldn’t find a space to exist.
Jesper would always find something to fidget with, but knowing he had dedicated fidgets at hand softened an edge.
The roommates couldn’t see each other, but they could both see the door, so Jesper saw the woman with curly red hair come into the room and head over to his roommate.
“Hey, sweetpea.”
“Hi, Mom.”
That was… not his roommate’s voice. This voice was softer, higher, and a little nervous. Jesper couldn't help having his interest piqued by the shift. Sure, Jesper changed his tone with his parents, but he still sounded like Jesper. His roommate sounded like a stranger.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay. I… ———… we love you.”
Well, damn, his roommate was a girl! Jesper thought back over their conversation, searching for anything he might’ve said that he maybe shouldn’t’ve.
“I love you, too, Mom.” She sounded like it hurt to say.
“If this is about what your father said the other day, he… he needs you to be patient with him.”
“Okay.”
“He’s trying.”
Jesper was, by now, sitting very, very still. He knew this conversation wasn’t meant for him to hear, but in a small room, he couldn’t exactly not hear what was said a few feet away. So he tried to stay quiet and not make them feel self-conscious—and, if he was being completely honest, he was curious.
“Why do you excuse everything he does?”
“He’s not perfect, but he loves us. You’re still his little girl.”
“Okay.”
“———.”
“Could you just leave me alone, please?” said his roommate, in what Jesper could only describe as an amazingly rude way.
“———.”
“If you had to lose me or leave him, who would you pick?”
“That’s not fair.”
Jesper’s roommate said nothing.
“I’ll come back later. I hope you feel better then.”
Jesper settled back on the pillow and closed his eyes, doing his very best impression of sleeping. The door opened and closed, and they were alone. He stayed quiet for a moment, absently turning his infinity cube over and over in his hand. He had wanted to go back to talking with his roommate… but now he didn’t know what to say. That had been a heavy conversation to just ignore.
Then he realized his roommate was crying.
“Hey,” Jesper said. “———?”
She didn’t answer. 
“You okay?”
“That’s not my name.”
“Oh.” Jesper looked at the cube, clicking idly in his hand. He had no idea what was going on. “My name’s Jesper, but I guess you knew that since my ma visited. You want to play twenty questions? I got a good one. C’mon, you’ll never guess!” he wheedled.
After a moment, his roommate sniffled, then asked, “Person, place, or thing?”
***
“I feel wronged.”
Jesper snorted. Yeah, that was about the most accurate summary of their current situation. He still hadn’t seen his roommate, but they called to each other across the curtains. The entire situation looked brighter in the morning light. Jesper felt better. His body was rapidly putting the surgery behind him.
Even sunshine couldn’t fix the picture in front of him, though. Last night, his da had brought him food from home. No such luck today: Jesper sat up in bed, mournfully regarding the hospital’s breakfast tray.
He lifted the toast and gave it a shake. It wriggled.
“I think they steamed the toast,” he said.
His roommate laughed. “Think they toasted it first?”
Jesper set the toast aside. “You eating yours?”
“I can’t.”
“Me too. The apple looks okay.”
“Looks are deceiving things.”
Jesper bit into his apple and shuddered. He carefully removed the piece of fruit from his mouth, trying to pretend he hadn’t felt that mealy hellflesh. 
“Cereal and milk it is!” he announced. “I got Corn Flakes. You?”
“Rice Krispies.”
“This is blatant favoritism and I won’t stand for it!”
“You just had surgery, you’re not supposed to be standing at all.”
“Wow,” Jesper said, not at all appreciating that. It was true, but… wow.
He poured the mini box of corn flakes and carton of milk into his bowl. The breakfast tray was a depressing sight. There was steamed toast and an apple that was an insult to other apples. Still, at least he had juice to look forward to and the jello had been pretty good.
Halfway through his Corn Flakes, he asked, “So what are you in for, anyway? I had my appendix out.”
“I was sleepwalking—it’s dumb. I thought I was eating Skittles.”
“What were you really eating? Steamed toast?”
“Aspirin.”
“Oh, shit.”
“I was sleepwalking.”
“Yeah, totally,” Jesper said, trying to sound like he believed it. 
A while later, once the salvagable parts of breakfast had been endured, Jesper’s roommate appeared around the curtain, leaning on an IV stand. She was small, the sort of girl who looked like she would never be more than 5'. She had freckles and a curly red-gold ponytail, and if Jesper was being completely honest, she was cute.
“Want to play cards?” she asked.
“Um—I…”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s cool.”
“I have a gambling problem,” Jesper blurted out. “I can’t… it’s really… I have a problem. But if we keep it chill?”
“Sure. How about Go Fish? No one gambles over Go Fish.”
Gamblers would gamble over anything, but she sounded so sweet and optimistic, he didn’t want to ruin her bright outlook.
“Sounds good.”
She sat on the end of his bed and dealt. 
They made it a few rounds without chatting much, then she said, “I’ll tell you my name, but you can’t tell anybody.”
Jesper wanted to ask why she was trusting him, but instead said, “I won’t.”
She leaned nearer and whispered it. Jesper had suspected something like this. He appreciated having it confirmed. Now that he knew, he rearranged his thoughts about his roommate to use the correct pronouns.
“Wylan’s a cool name.”
Jesper’s roommate smiled at his cards, a smile that was determinedly interrupted with a scowl.
“Not as cool as Jesper,” he continued, “but still pretty cool. You want to play again?”
By that afternoon, they had both seen their mothers again. Wylan’s mom seemed to really love him, Jesper thought, even if she did use his deadname. The visit still left Wylan withdrawn, but Jesper talked his new friend into another round of Go Fish. It wasn’t such a fun game. It was about the company, though said company remained gloomy. He had a scowl like thunder.
“Here, I have an idea.” Jesper pulled off his beanie. “Do you want to…?”
Wylan took the hat, pulled it on, and tucked his hair up under it.
“I hate feeling it,” he said. “That’s probably stupid, but I hate it! It’s stupid. You have long hair and you don’t look like a girl!”
“You don’t look like a girl, either. And you don’t sound like a girl, I thought you were a guy until I heard your mom say your name. Which now I know isn’t your name,” Jesper added. 
The stormclouds began to disperse. 
“When I was a kid, I used to imitate cartoons.”
“Oh yeah? Can you still do it?”
Jesper didn’t have to hear the answer—which was just as well, because Wylan didn’t give him one.
“Do one for me! C’mon, just one.”
Wylan shifted, keeping his eyes on their forgotten game of Go Fish. Then he said, “Meep meep!”
“Pfft, Road Runner doesn’t count.”
“Road Runner’s a cartoon!” “You said one word and it was onomatopoeia!”
“Okay, yeah, but… okay. Okay.” Wylan took a deep breath, settled his shoulders, and stared at the sheets with a deepening blush as he said, “Duck season! Wabbit season! Duck season! Wabbit season! Wabbit season! I say it’s duck season, and I say, fire!”
Jesper laughed. “That’s really good!” he said. He wasn’t laughing at Wylan, but because the impression was so good, almost like different people when Bugs and Daffy spoke. Besides, the cartoon was a classic. Wylan must’ve known, because he smiled.
39 notes · View notes
treba-neco-napise · 4 years
Note
List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last 10 people who reblogged something from you - learn to know your mutuals and followers! :]
 ok, at this point i don’t really remember because i’ve just spent three days stressing over some work for school. but being happy is important so:
1. snow - it has been snowing in the czech republic for two days now (and i hope it won’t end anytime soon, even though our rabbits in a closed coop in our garden don’t really enjoy the white, soft and freezing thing and jump like they have springs on their paws. yes, i know they’re rabbits but this is a different style of jumping. anyway,) and i always smile like an idiot when i see the whole world around covered in white. i don’t know if it’s because it almost doesn’t snow in the winter in our country like it used to (global warming...?) or i just like winter because i don’t have that much work to do outside or because i can put on some cosy sweater and drink tea with lemon and when i look outside the window, i feel like i was in a cabin in the mountains with my family on a skiing vacation and i didn’t have schoolwork to stress about. i live in a log cabin in a village so it’s easy to get those feels.
2. tea with lemon. all the time. terribly missed in summer. 
3. old, yellow paper and books and those really thin pen tips and christmas lights.
4. knowing i’ve done a good job. 
5. getting feedback, comments and questions from people, overall notice and people being happy with what i’ve created. 
now, with the next part i’m heading somewhere else so if you don’t want some heartspilling today, just go on scrolling. have a nice day. 
i’m a brutally honest person (which probably isn’t that visible here on tumblr because here, nobody gives a shit what other people think) so i’ll say something that i’ve probably said before and people who follow me have noticed - i have pretty low self-esteem mixed up with perfectionism complex (because every time my parents weren’t satisfied with my work, i had to go back and do it properly. this is the first and last mention of my parents in this answer, i swear.) so every time i get noticed, i pull off a huge internal celebration that someone actually knows i exist and doesn’t mind. so i’ll cover that person in “thank you”s and these days i’ve battled my masculinity complex enough to use heart emojis. a lot. but when it comes to bread breaking (translated czech idiom to you who aren’t czech. if there are any of you.), i don’t return that stuff. this is the second love-spreading ask thread i’ve received and the last time, i said “thank youuuu” and didn’t even pass it on because i didn’t have enough will to copy the text and paste it in someone else’s mailbox. (i will pass this ask on. because i do want to get to know people around me.) my friend sent me a beautiful letter with some trans pride stickers and some more really neat paper stuff and what have i done for her? when i was at summer school in england, two friends bought me a gorgeous bookmark and a notebook because they noticed i liked books and notebooks. and i never paid that affection back before we went back home. don’t get me wrong, i love to create stuff for people to make them happy and i’m kind of proud of last year’s choices of gifts for my family. but often when it’s not expected, i rarely put together enough will or it takes too long and when i want to pay back, it’s too late. 
what i’m trying to say? it might just be my low self-esteem and paranoia but if i ever didn’t return the affection you sent me, i’m really sorry. i am selfish even though i am terrified of being selfish and i’m trying to work on it. 
 (while writing i remembered multiple variations of the thought that love isn’t something to be obliged to pay back and the friend who sent me the letter said it’s fine and you probably don’t even care and don’t know why the hell i’m writing this but every time i realize i’ve been selfish or careless, it just makes me feel like i should hide under the table and not come back until there is an alternative universe, where i didn’t do those things, created. have a splendid day, folks.)
6 notes · View notes
slashnatic · 4 years
Note
May I request Jason and/or Thomas with a trans (ftm) s/o that was their only friends since they both go bullied together, but they moved away, and years later when they officially become slashers they meet again? Like I just think that would be cute!
oof okay so...i have to say a few things about this. first of all, i‘m kinda scared to post this because i don‘t have any personal experience with the whole trans thing, so i wasn‘t too specific with this because i don‘t want to offend anyone or hurt anyone’s feelings just because i don‘t really know what i‘m talking about (as in i don‘t have to go through what a trans person might be going through). i honestly don‘t think i would have but you never know and i don‘t want to risk that :) this is unfortunately also not exactly what you asked for because i kinda got carried away. in the jason imagine the reader didn‘t move away and the thomas imagine is set even before the slaughterhouse gets closed, so that‘s that. i‘m terribly sorry and i hope this is still okay...if not feel free to let me know and i’ll try again
Jason Voorhees: Imagine
You sat in your car, staring out of the window at the sign in front of you. Camp Crystal Lake. You didn‘t actually look at the sign, you were to caught up in your memories. In that very moment you were a child again. You felt weak, sad, angry, but most of all scared. Back then you wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint the feeling but now you knew. You didn‘t know why you were scared exactly. The other kids making fun of you for the way you dressed or the way you wore your hair wasn‘t it. Definitely. It had never bothered you to look a bit different, in fact you felt most comfortable not looking like the other girls. You didn‘t like being made fun of for that, but you could take it. What had scared you was the unacceptance of what felt like the whole world. There had been one person who had accepted you. One. If he didn‘t question you because he felt like you were in the same boat or if he didn‘t question you because he actually didn‘t care, you didn‘t know. But you were here to find out. You were here to visit Jason, your childhood friend. Your only childhood friend. When you were a child they had told you he was dead. You had seen it from the window of the cabin you and your parents stayed in too, but refused to believe he really didn‘t make it. Through your whole childhood and teenage years the memory of your friend had followed you, hunted you in your dreams, refused to let you go. And now here you were. Because maybe they were right. Maybe Jason wasn‘t gone, maybe he was still out there. You were scared, of course you were, because if he was then he could be your death as well. You didn‘t want to die now, after everything you went through, after all the years of fighting to be able to be yourself, but possibly meeting up with Jason was worth taking the risk. Back then it had felt like you were soulmates. Now Jason was gone, but the feeling had remained. So you took one last breath before you opened the car door and began your search.
“Jason?“ Your voice seemed to be swallowed by the trees in the camp, as if they were trying to destroy anything that bothered them in their quiet peace as fast as possible. You huffed frustrated, mumbling curses under your breath. When you had entered the camp you were determined, trudging through the forest, trying to find your way from cabin to cabin, but now you only dragged your feet across the leaf-covered ground. How all your energy was gone in only hours was a disastrous miracle to you, but here you were, breathing heavily and only this short before crawling. You had started your little adventure with the setting of the sun and you were pretty sure it would be rising soon too. You felt paranoid, flinched at every little noise aside from the rustling of the leaves under your feet. You didn‘t know that you were being fairly reasonable though. Jason followed you for quite some time now. It had taken him a while to figure out what was so familiar about you, but now he knew. It was you. Y/N, his only friend. And apparently you were here because of him. He hadn‘t made up his mind yet, if he‘d let you know he was there or if he wouldn‘t, but it seemed like fate had made the decision for him. He was always careful and quiet, but he was so focused on you that he didn‘t realize the giant root sticking out of the ground. This never happened to him, why now? He stumbled forward, trying not to fall, so he could just go back to hide behind the bushes he had been hiding behind for the most time, but you had heard him anyway. This was definitely not the forest, this was a person. With a shaky voice you shouted a little ‘hello‘. No answer. Of course they didn‘t answer, who would do that? You sighed before making your way over to where the sound had come from. You were scared, sure, but you were also curious. Jason on the other hand was confused. How did this happen and more importantly, what should he do now? He had gotten up and stood silently, listening to your steps. And then the bushes moved and you stepped through, immediately freezing when you saw him. Suddenly everything seemed to be quiet. You didn‘t hear a single sound. Was this him? Was this Jason? You knew deep down that it was him. You were somewhat relieved that you had found what you were searching for, feeling like you could temporarily rest in peace now. You took a step forward towards him, but stopped again. What are you gonna do? You hadn‘t planned that part. You wanted to find Jason and reconnect in some kind of way, but you hadn‘t actually planned the scenario. “Uh…hi. Hi, Jason.“ Your voice was shaky and you felt awkward. This man is a killer and you stand here trying to make small talk. Wonderful. And on top of that he didn‘t react. He didn‘t move at all, he simply watched you. Your heart was beating at an inhuman pace, but you tried to ignore it. The only thing to get further seemed to be communication now, so you decided to give it a try. “I don‘t know if you remember me. We…uh, we were friends back then, before…you know, before all of this happened. It‘s me, Y/N. I, uh, changed a little if you can‘t tell.“ When he still didn’t react you sighed, almost annoyed now. “I came here to visit you, actually. Ever since you were gone I couldn‘t forget. I never did. I never forgot about you, Jason.“ Your voice cracked at the end as tears welled up in your eyes. Sure, you had missed him a bit, but now you were confronted with everything that you had kept inside, away from everyone including yourself. He was here now, he was fine, but would he still accept you like he did back then? You noticed him move just a little, lowering his arm, which before was stiffened and ready to swing his machete at any time.
You sniffled, trying to gather your thoughts, to get a clear mind, because this was all too much for you. You didn‘t know what exactly. The memories of the bullying, meeting up with the only true friend you ever had, all the emotions... You didn‘t know what to do, you didn‘t know what he would do, but you knew he wouldn‘t hurt you. In the weakness you felt at that moment you lunged forward and threw yourself into his arms. If you mistook his little gesture, then he would‘ve killed you anyway. And so you let yourself go right there, letting the tears fall, not knowing if you cried of sadness, anger or joy, but not really caring either. And then you felt something on your back. First it only lingered there, then his hand went up and down your back. Jason didn‘t know much about comforting anymore, but he knew that for whatever reason, he wanted to make you feel better, so he did what he could. He did what he could for you in that moment, just like he had back then. He didn’t know you anymore, a lot had happened that brought so many changes and yet he offered you comfort. Maybe you had been right back then when you were children. Maybe he was your soulmate.
Thomas Hewitt: Imagine
A smile formed on your lips when you spotted the slaughterhouse. You didn’t know if he was there, but you honestly doubted he’d ever leave. Where was he supposed to go? Where would anyone want him? You had never cared for Thomas’ appearance or that he didn’t talk, but therefore most of the other kids had cared a little too much. He was different and never had it easy. You had always been different too and you certainly didn’t have it easy either. That’s how you had become friends in the first place.
You were pushed aside by a girl. She was just your age, had long, blonde hair, which was -according to every other girl and boy of the school- beautiful and her name was Betty. According to every other girl and boy of this school she was beautiful. You didn’t think so. Maybe she would have been beautiful, but her ugly attitude stood in her way. Unfortunately you seemed to be the only one aware of that. Except for Thomas. You had noticed Thomas before, he was a quiet child and not much more popular than you. Not popular at all, actually. Betty and her friends, which included almost every girl her age of this school and the boys too, gave him some special treatment, which put him in the same boat as you. You figured that was what she was up to right now, as you watched her making her way over to the poor boy. You observed the scene for a couple of minutes, not really knowing what to do. You wanted to help him, this wasn’t fair, but you didn’t want to get yourself in trouble either. You’ve had enough of that today already. Seeing him there, hunched together at the table waiting for it to be over, you couldn’t help yourself. This was not right. Your feet carried you faster than you wanted them to and only seconds later you arrived at the table, all eyes on you. Great. You nervously scratched your arm before quietly, but determintedly letting them know that you’d like for them to leave him alone. A couple of unpleasant comments aimed at you and Thomas followed, before Betty decided she didn’t want to hang around the “dumb weirdos” anymore. You took a few seconds to debate on whether or not you should sit down with him until you decided that you didn’t do this for nothing. From that day on you spent every break with Thomas and met up with him after school; you spent every free minute with him. That was, until he or his parents, you didn’t know, decided he should work at the slaughterhouse. And your parents decided you should move.
Your smiled faded as you thought back to the loneliness you had felt after moving away. You had slowly adapted to your new life back then, but you never fully recovered from the feeling that was left behind. From losing your best friend. You were his everything, he was yours and thinking back to that made you not only nostalgic, but it also brought all of it back. You only hoped he felt the same when you made your way over to the entrance. 
You stood behind the glass, watching him. He had grown. A lot. And he had become very muscular. There didn’t seem to be anything left of the scrawny boy you had once known. The people seemed to treat him the same though. You had come across only two people, had only asked them where to find Mister Thomas Hewitt, but their replies and most of all the exchanged look was telling. This wasn’t fair. Sighing you made your way down the few stairs. “Thomas? Thomas Hewitt?” No reply. Why would he? If everyone still treated him the same as they did back then, then he probably still tried to avoid interaction with them like he did back then. And how was he supposed to know that it was you? You cleared your throat and awkwardly moved closer. “Tommy?” It wasn’t the nickname that made him freeze, but rather the tone of your voice. It was soft, gentle, almost caring. He stood stiff, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to reveal to him who you were and what you wanted. “It’s me. Y/N, remember me?” What? You? What were you doing here? “I came to, uh, to visit you. I thought about you quite often ever since I moved and I thought…” You didn’t finish your sentence, you didn’t know how. What had you thought? It didn’t seem to matter though, he turned around to you nevertheless. Your breath hitched as your eyes met. Your heart was beating faster than you thought was possible and you tried to calm down both your and his nerves with a smile. And with that Thomas broke down. His body hunched together as he made an uninterpretable noise. He looked lost, as if he didn’t know what he was feeling or if he did, didn’t know how to express his emotions. And seeing him like that, seeing that he still cared about you, was too much for you. You let the tears run down your face as you lunged yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his buff frame as best as you could. And there you stood, both of you crying, comforting each other. “It’s okay, Tommy, I’m home. I’m finally home.”
92 notes · View notes