#women socially speaking which maybe makes this worse <- not that that is a Real distance or cause for misunderstanding so much as

[fluentisonus]

still chewing this one over so hopefully this makes sense but one very minor running thing I feel like we get w jean valjean is that without disliking women or even believing that they're in any way unequal to him he. hm. for the most part doesn't have much normal contact with adult women after his sister (and presumably none for the 19 years he was in prison) which means that. not that he doesn't understand women so much as i feel like idk. he makes the mistake of unconsciously assuming men-are-from-mars-women-are-from-venus style that he doesn't understand them (being aware of that lack of contact & under the impression women are fairly different to men), and because he's a guy who wants to understand things & is largely self taught (often from books) especially wrt social niceties, he ends up being very credulous, in that presumed lack of understanding, of commonly held beliefs & traditional, societally reinforced ideas of gender rolls & gender characteristics, and this sometimes ends up ultimately hurting women around him despite his genuine good intentions

like obviously firstly in montreuil-sur-mer where he wants the female workers to have "pure morals" and gives them a separate workroom to the men to "remain discreet" which I think he genuinely intended as a means of making it a good work environment for the workers -- women can have privacy & focus on work & nothing uncomfortable or untoward is being brought into the workplace etc -- but as we know this backfired horrendously because it essentially resulted in fantine being fired for having a child out of wedlock & everything she went through after. and given his reaction he doesn't seem to have ever considered this a potential effect of his rules -- like he doesn't seem to have understood how those sorts of rules end up ultimately punish the women involved more than anything

and the other main instance of course is with cosette and his assumption that essentially a woman has a father, & then she has a husband & having a husband no longer needs a father (this is strengthened a lot by his own feeling of his own taintedness -- it's not the main thing responsible for what happened by any means. but it's a part of it) & this assumption is incredibly hard on her!!! she obviously doesn't see it that way at all! but it never seems like it occurs to him not to think of it in that framework bc essentially society in general sees it that way

idk I guess what I find interesting abt this is that it's a big blind spot in a guy who's otherwise extremely willing to question social biases & generally likes to take people all on a level as just another sort of person like himself. again I think in his general behavior towards women interpersonally there's nothing bad & in fact there's a lot of genuine respect there & probably willingness to learn even (in fantine 's case), but it's like he just never worked out that these ideas about gender are about as true & helpful as ideas about class or criminality etc etc

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

So, there’s a videogames website I used to surf some time ago. It was the early twitter era and the HP games were hot topic on the forums discussions. JKR was then relatively tamed, and their twitter feed was a constant barrage of feminism against old conservative guys… and she was so hated among the users. They called them feminazi, woke, etc. The HP games would receive poor reviews from staff and users alongside and memes ridiculing the franchise were shared in the threads.

I stopped visiting the site gradually, It’s been years since then. Curiosity dragged me back recently and things were so changed. Now the HP games have positive reviews, there’re entire threads mocking the attempts and calls to boicot. Anyone calling bullshit on the franchise is called woke, resented, child molester, etc. JKR is now an unfairly treated author. The general consensus goes about how authors have the right to do what they want with their money and the necessity to separate work and personal opinions.

Thinking about it, it’s not that big surprise. Some Xbox forums saw the raising of alt right on internet after all. But it would be funny if it wasn’t so alarming; how quickly the HP fanbase is shifting to bigotry, conspiracy and far right. While not so long ago those same (proto) groups were online crusading against what now defend and praise.

I can’t say I’m surprised. Folks who are already alt right will back whoever they think is on their side; ei republicans who what to fight “sexual immorality” backing trump the adulterer and (alleged) child molester because he tells them what they want to hear. But I saw political circles, not just fandoms, shift into the alt right over the years, actively supporting causes and ideals that once condemned. But the way they condemned them wasn’t always a matter of the harm they caused, but the intellectual inferiority of bigotry. So once the tides turned, so too did the targets of derision. This isn’t to undermine the specific marginalized groups that are targeted by bigotry, but a factor that allows it to spread is the more general sense of community superiority, which lines of perfectly with fandom toxicity. “We are better than those losers out the outside because we are the enlightened members of the in-group.”

For example, I used to follow the “New Atheist” movement on youtube, because it gave me some comfort and catharsis to see the kind of Christian extremists who were abusing me at the time dunked on. But it was just dunking. The real harm conservative American christians did to women, people of color, and queer people was used as proof that religion was a delusion held by intellectually inferior people. But then those marginalized groups started speaking for themselves and making demands, so the youtube atheists switched gears, and started dunking on the “social justice warriors” as the new delusional idiots that they were so much better than. Because the issue of American christianity was never actually the harm that was being committed, it was about how they were dumb and cringe for believing in something fake. The people who actually believed in stopping harm realized what was going on and left, so all that remained were the increasingly odious voices about how feminism and the gays were way worse than conservative christians and maybe they’re right about everything except the god part. (Though some of those bozos have “taken the god pill” in the fifteen years since because their belief system is based in perceived superiority and nothing else.)

As for Harry Potter specifically, I’ve never been in the fandom but based on the many interactions I’ve had with fans over the years, I’m not surprised by that shift. It always had an energy shared by all the worst of nerd fandoms: both the sense of superiority that their book/movie/game is one of the best things ever and it’d popular because everyone agrees that it’s great, but also it’s a special nerdy thing that the evil “normies” will belittle and bully them for enjoying because they’re too stupid to appreciate anything more complicated that reality tv. It maps pretty easily onto the facist idea that the in-group is simultaneously the superior order that effortlessly outclasses all others in everything and the poor perpetual victims of the all powerful other constantly out to get them. I’m not saying being in a toxic fandom automatically turns people into fascists, I’m saying that fascists are opportunists and pray on people who feel they have been victimized, and convince them the ones doing the victimizing are their current targets.

JKR herself was a victim of domestic violence, which is a prime recruitment ground used by terfs. That, and she was probably feeling the existential dread of her greatest success being behind her after the mainline HP franchise ended, her newer books weren’t doing well, and she wanted to feel like she was “positively” impacting the world. But that was years ago and she’s speaking her own words at this point. She’ll die remembered as a bigot who squandered the good memories propping up her overhyped franchise and not even her fellow terfs will miss her because they’re so paranoid about trans people, they’ll probably start “transvestigating” her posthumously out of instinct.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Broadly speaking I sympathize with the desire to have the smallest possible government or even no government but the latter is a fantasy, and in the case of the former, "possible" is really the operative word.

The world being as it is, and the history of the United States being what it is, I am not sure how to turn back the clock. The more power we give to individual states the more we are inviting individual states to have even more uneven outcomes than they have now. I cannot imagine untethering the states from one another will suddenly make West Virginia prosperous or ruin California. There is also the historical problem that much of the rise of the federal government in the 19th and 20th century occurred over problems of economic development and social justice, by which I do not mean even in the way the phrase is used and abused now, but what I hope we can all agree was the very real necessity that slavery be abolished and that equal rights be granted to minorities and women.

Whatever your stance on abortion we are seeing a version of this play out now on that very issue; left to the states, the lived experience of women in different states can become dramatically different based on a single policy. Gun rights and gun laws are another where we see this dramatic variation from state to state. And the thing is, a woman who lives in a no-abortion state can still get an abortion. Someone in an anti-gun state can still get a gun. They just have to make connections in states more amenable to their desires, and both laws impact the poor disproportionately who always have less autonomy. The states are so dramatically close physically and economically and even culturally (set aside the rural/urban divide, something for a future discussion), I'm skeptical how much federalization is going to achieve, except to exacerbate unequal conditions and unequal outcomes which are already a huge problem.

There is also the problem of defense. History shows time and again that the United States is stronger together. The very discussion of the extent to which it is the business of the United States to police the world is an almost unfathomable luxury that in history has fallen to a number of political bodies small enough to count on our hands. The United States was born in a world of neighboring hostile empires; in 1783 it shared a border with Spain and Britain; later with France, and the major European empires also held sway in the Caribbean and Latin America to the South. It is not impossible that something like that could happen again someday. Arguably, one of the lessons of the American Civil War was not only the Union's greater material wealth but also its greater ability to take advantage of it given its more centralized system helped secure victory over a decentralized, disorganized opponent. The South still smoulders from that defeat that is over a century and a half old, and in some ways it has yet to recover. What if it was the Chinese or the Russians tomorrow?

If the solution is not a curtailed federal government, what is it?

I honestly struggle deeply with this. To abolish the federal government is to roll the dice. Staggeringly few other political bodies in human history have had anything like the success of the United States of America under the Constitution of 1787. Yet negative counterexamples abound. To roll the dice on a new arrangement is to court a virtual guarantee that the new arrangement is not better but worse, maybe far worse.

My PhD would be revoked if my peers heard me say this but the United States is an exceptional place.

The problem as I see it, to which I do not have a solution, is how to hold the power accountable? Whether the power is the bureaucracy, the president, the court, the legislature, the corporations, the billionaires, the 1%, the coastal elite, the people, or however else you slice it, people have to be answerable for their influence, and right now they clearly are not.

[ornithia]

lmao i got blocked for this

i, a living, breathing, real-life existing aroace individual, a literal example of the very category you specifically attempted to white-knight, asked a genuine question regarding the puritanical "white-washing" of the general identity to which i and several of my peers belong to - but i suppose confronting your own bigotry was just too much to handle, eh?

let's go over your "values":

so you're not a "radical inclusionist" (w/e that means) ... but by your own logic, excluding certain marginalised groups (such as the select "undesirable" and "dirty" asexuals that do not fit the pure stereotype mold) precisely means you're also not a real leftist, but a "Republican in training" (this is literally YOUR own definition in YOUR own words)

so ... people like you, then? also awfully convenient that all of this info that constitutes blocking was hidden below a read-more, btw. (also, you commented on someone ELSE's post. i'd say that's fair game - maybe DON'T comment publicly at all if you truly don't want to engage with anyone, especially not if you're requiring them to read a whole TOS essay of your "voids" and "warranties")

this one was a little further down ... buddy. MOST people who ship alastor are asexuals themselves, safely exploring their identities and analysing their experiences through a fictional proxy. i can ASSURE you the majority of us are not aphobic, we're simply diverse, as human beings are wont to be. trying to fit us all into a neat little box and weeding out those who do not fit your standards or rhetoric, on the other hand - now THAT'S aphobic as all shit

going over the DNI list now and:

lmao WHAT. please research the history of humanity and the arts, i GUARANTEE you that most people who've written/created analogs of terrible things (since the very dawn of human creativity) have not PERSONALLY engaged in horrific deviancy so much as commentated on it, in order to make a point about its horrors and use it to tell a greater message. (also "predators in the making" is literally a dog whistle used in right-wing circles, specifically the ones that embrace terf-rhetoric, are homophobic, anti-feminist, and pro-censorship with the intended goal of resetting society to the "nuclear family" aka institute a social order in which the queers don't exist, women exist purely to spread their legs and pop out babies for their masters Men, children are DANGEROUSLY isolated and taught to be ignorant of the world that exists beyond their neighborhood so that when they eventually grow up they end up xenophobic Adults unable to cope with the notions of Different and New and far less able to creatively relate, empathise, or put themselves in others' shoes, for better or worse.

also, THIS is why ACTUAL critical thinking matters, and not just lazy broad strokes of some supposed "general morality", like holy shit you'd think you'd realise this given you consider yourself a "💜Beginner Satantic-Pagan Witch" and all the maligned things that THAT would imply based on a surface-level understanding of satan/lucifer's origins without actual research into the religion, like - based on the name alone, most people would assume you have a sadistic and LAUGHABLY disproportionate desire to see humans suffer due to a petty and envious "sibling rivalry" over the fact that god doted on humans just a little "too much" for lucifer's personal liking (per the canonical texts of the abrahamic religions)

OBVIOUSLY that's not the case, as there's ALWAYS more to the picture; you criticals should try applying this philosophy more often, you all seem so miserable all the time it's hard to imagine how this COULDN'T help

as for the rest of the list ... honestly, it isn't terrible. MOST of it is reasonable. pity, as we could've potentially been friends - had you just chosen to NOT speak on behalf of ALL asexuals with 0 consideration for our varied and complex nuance and spooked yourself into blocking me over a reality check

[djretard]

enter the other guys........

Sawyer Davis — 18, hefty guy. Tom's son. If Jack is being given the cold shoulder socially bc of maybe possibly being connected to the murders, Sawyer being Tom's son basically means everyone has pitchforks and fire on standby. Bethel's #1 most hated guy. Well maybe #2, Tom gets #1. He does not cope well with this at all. He is aggressive and short-tempered, and deeply nihilistic. He does have a level of patience with women and children, but otherwise he's willing to beat the shit out of anyone. Not a good look. He seldom attends school after he got into a confrontation with another student that left said student with a mild concussion. Even worse look. Folks don't see him much these days, he slinks about in the night, stumbling drunk and angry at the world. Notably, he has recently gotten an apartment just out of town, one over a laundromat which he semi-owns. He is also in a four-year relationship with Katie Rivers, the daughter of Mari Rivers and Bethel's crown jewel. No one is happy about this. Firstly, one of Tom's victims' children is dating his son? Scandalous. Secondly, his aggressive nature worries all that worship the ground Katie walks on. What if something happens one day? But Katie is incredibly defensive of Sawyer. Katie keeps it together and very rarely "snaps" but saying something nasty about Sawyer around her is one way to get her to cuss you out. In her opinion, Sawyer is an angel. Anyways. Sawyer used to be friends with Steven, those three (including Raina) used to play in the woods together as kids. Something happened back in the 80's that caused Sawyer and Steven to split, something both are extremely clammy about. Frankie is one of the few adults that are patient with Sawyer, but despite this he doesn't allow Steven to speak to Sawyer, and always is keeping a close eye on the two. So who knows. Also Sawyer is like... obsessed with the murders, the ones in the 70's—80's. It's his Thing, which ig would make sense. LOL. songs... heavy on these four....

Katie Rivers — 18, Bethel's princess. If she and Kodali didn't have the same face they would be entirely unrecognizable as twins. But anywyas. As Mari's daughter she is expected to make her proud from beyond the grave, and she has every set of eyes in Bethel set on her and her success. For a teenage girl, this is extremely stressful for her, but she feels like there really isn't any other way to get approval so she sucks it up and puts on a smile. She is the leader of the cheer squad and very, very popular. That said, she doesn't really have a lot of genuine friends. Sawyer is really the only person she spends time with. That, and Jade Davis, her long-time best friend. Jade is Sawyer's cousin via Tom and Wilson. This is an obvious issue between Katie, Jade, and Sawyer as Jade and Sawyer HATEEE each other. For reasons they don't go into. It was Jade that got his head cracked open by Sawyer. Katie tries to mediate, but it's reached a boiling point that even she can't handle. REGARDLESS. Despite being the spitting image of Mari, what with her ambitious and charismatic personality, Katie honestly doesn't really care for her late mother.... all the pressure she posthumously placed on her really put a nail in the coffin. She hates talking about Mari and views her step-mother, Beckah, as her real mother. Beyond the favoritism, this issue is the main point of contention between Kodali and Katie. Kodali loves her mother and hates that she can't make her proud, and Katie rejects Mari entirely. Plus, Kodali hates Beckah as Mari's replacement, so it grinds her gears when Katie calls her mom. In the summer leading up to the main events, Katie and Kodali got into a major fight that turned physical, and Kodali got hurt. Nothing major, but for Kodali it completely ruined any hope of ever being close with Katie.

[nataliesnews]

lost count of days 31.10.2023

Saturday Ellen and I again went down to Tel Aviv to be with the families of the hostages. It was good to be with people who care but it also amazes me that  so many people do not seem to care. Have I said before how much I admire the British for all the years that they endured the second world war. One month and it is like being in a continuous nightmare. 

Both of us were exhausted and came back in the same state. Saturday night there was another demonstration also in the centre of town and I don't know why but it was perfectly quiet. Only about three  or four police and no hecklers which makes me even more sure that the attack on us a week and a half ago by the police was planned by them. I don't know what happened but maybe they realised they had gone too far. But now they are arresting all sorts of Arabs for posts on facebook and thought I don't like what they like but the extreme Rabbis and people like Ben Givr say and post much worse things and nothing happens to them. I also once said to you that what happens with the Palestinians would eventually  happen with those on the left against Netanyahu. Now a pilot who wrote against Netanyahu has been fired. The time will come when they will pray for him to come back.   AND THIS we would like to draw your attention to thElegislation pushed by far-right Minister of National Security Itamar Ben Gvir and set to be voted on in the coming days. This proposal seeks to grant police officers the right to shoot at protesters "obstructing roads or town entrances" with live ammunition. This presents a real threat to human lives and human rights by denying people’s right to demonstrate, and will undoubtedly lead to violence escalation. 

Pictures from the demonstration, two babies who are kidnapped, And the last photo of the phone call all which ended suddenly, either from someone in the army or someone kidnapped  and sometimes the family is still wondering  if the person is lying dead somewhere, kidnapped or what.

\

 In the evening I went again to the centre of the city to call for the captives to be brought home,  but unlike last week, when the police attacked us without restraint and without reason,  throwing women to the floor and calling them prostitutes, calling us traitors, telling us that they should not have to protect ue, this was very quiet. 

There are daily attacks on Palestinians in their homes and on their grounds. Settlers protected by soldiers but I will send it separately. But This is what happened to one Arab doctor and whom Tag Maier  visited:

"We met last night with Dr. Abd Samara of Tira. Director of cardiac intensive care at Hasharon Hospital. Senior center. Dr. Abed put up a post a year and 4 months ago with a green flag, a verse from the Koran and a drawing of a dove of peace. Following the events of October 7th, social media surfers hunting "Arabs" decided that Dr. Samara had posted a support post for Hamas... No one checked with Dr. Samara and so began a witch hunt that ended with a letter of suspension from the Sharon Hospital with the support of a very senior member of the health system. Needless to say, Dr. Samara is a talented, dedicated doctor who has nothing to do with the Hamas movement. Needless to say, the post he posted is unrelated in content and time to what happened to us three weeks ago. We came to embrace Dr. Samara and his family. We call on the Minister of Health to immediately correct the terrible injustice caused to Dr. Samara. Dr. Abd Samara should be returned to his job as director of cardiac intensive care and allowed to save Jewish and Arab lives as he has done to this day with endless dedication".

More and more it is becoming like McCarthy here. |Dani Danieli whom I know from the protests has been arrested and questioned three times. And he is one of many on the left.  One of  the fascists wanted to have Gershon Baskin arrested for speaking to the Hamas, It was through his speaking to them at the time that Gilad Shalit was freed. I would not be surprised if soon they called him in too.

Every night we demonstrate outside the house of Herzog. And  again not against the government but for the release of the captives. Two nights ago the families were there meeting him.  We waited from three to after seven but it was worth it. The first woman who came out was not expecting to see people and when she saw us she covered her face in surprise and wept. They told us not to forget them and we told that we were were every night.  Cars come past and hoot support, others stop and curse us. Everything one does is seen as an act against the government. In the meantime Netanyhua's nightly broadcasts sound like something out of a Charlie Chaplin movie. The only person worth listening to it the army spokesman and one can only wonder how much of what we are hearing is  true.

Anyhow  next morning someone sent me a photo which had appeared in the Jerusalem  post of our demonstration and then I was amazed to get a whatsapp from the daughter of a friend of mine who died some years ago, Hilda with whom I had worked in South Africa.

She said they had been watching the Afrikaans news and suddenly she said to her husband....that is Natalie and she took a screenshot which she sent me. 

I have been volunteering at Hansen to make sandwiches and after a morning of cutting parsley and koesbara and tomatoes I come out feeling like a salad. I take a sleeping pill but still wake up exhausted. 

[gemstarstarlight]

From My Advanced Age

Before I start this post, Kit, this isn’t your fault.

Well, it’s a little bit your fault, but it’s also some irl people’s fault.

And “fault” isn’t the right word. More like “inspiration.”

See, here’s the thing. I am no longer effortlessly young. I have been informed of this by several sources (see above) and while the teasing is absolutely lighthearted and anyone age 30+ rolls their eyes a little when I mention it, it’s been making me think.

It is no longer easy for me to know what younger people are doing. I’m no longer in high school or college. I refuse to download TikTok, for misinformation/bad take and ADHD reasons. I work a job with older people. I’m going to be a campus missionary soon, and even among them I am the second youngest person on the team. I don’t know what people are thinking anymore, what world is being created by young people, except for what I see on social media (which likes to show extremes and therefore both scares me and isn’t an accurate source for what most people think).

Although I will be working at a college campus and my primary goal will be listening to young people, showing them the God I know, and supporting them however I can. So I will probably hear a lot more of what young people are thinking.

And that’s a relief. Maybe in a chasing-youth sort of way, but mostly because I know what I do not want to become.

The upside of not connecting with people your own age as a teenager is that adults see that and want to connect with you, and they can support you in real ways your peers can’t always be able to also they have money. The downside is that they sometimes forget that you are a youngster, and they talk to you like you are an adult. And you have to sit there like you don’t know someone who fits that exact demographic they’re accidentally (or not) insulting. And sometimes that demographic is you, which is worse.

They bash the things you enjoy, but because they’re the adult you don’t speak up. You just go home and feel a little bit of you close off. And I never want to do that to anyone.

So that means I have to be open minded. I have to be someone people feel safe talking to. But what I’ve learned this year is that it’s not as easy as I thought it would be. It’s easy to look at the world (undoubtedly crazy and mildly an on-fire trash can) and the internet (even more so) and the grownups (mad all the time about things I consider a fact of life and in fact shouldn’t be a surprise if they read their Bibles) and draw conclusions about it based on my own interpretations and experiences. None of which would be all that positive.

But that’s the thing: they’re my interpretations and experiences. How do I know that they’re accurate? That my worldview will show me the way to truth?

Many people I know would say, “Read your Bible, and see if your perspective matches up with the Word of God.” Which is true, and I am attempting to do that. But 1. It’s a little bit of a red herring and 2. that’s part of my crisis: realizing that I don’t know everything about the Bible, because I am an American from the 21st century who grew up middle class and individualist, which is several roadblocks to understanding the work of a book that was written to an ancient culture that was both similar to and different from my own. So my own perspective on what the Bible says may be flawed because of my own culture and experiences! I might be missing context, and context is everything. It goes back to: how do I know what is true, and what is being blocked because of my perspective?

So I want to write about something I’ve noticed, while I’m still working on that. Something that is related to perspective.

We point out that every generation has the old people convinced that young people are becoming more degenerate, that men are becoming more feminine and passive, that women are becoming more masculine and don’t know their place (I can’t be bothered to link them, but I’ve seen Tumblr posts and TikToks mentioning all of these with evidence cited, and I’ve actually googled the degenerate young people thing).

But has anyone bothered to understand why? There might be some obvious answers (sexism for one), but the fact that this is a trend in every generation going back thousands of years and that I’ve already started seeing Millennials get upset at Gen Z’s taste in music or humor and put up nostalgia posts about the good old day tells me something:

It takes work to not become the thing we hate.

It takes work to keep an open positive mindset, to not see a thing that confuses us and think it’s a threat until told otherwise. A negative kind of thinking is pervasive, normal (derogatory), and takes work to avoid. I worry that older people, Millennials and older Gen Z like myself, may preach openness and tolerance but not do the work required to actually practice it.

So how do I avoid it? How do I stay open and be a safe place for people to share their ideas?

I’m not positive. I’m 23, I don’t know a lot. Every year, I become aware of how much I don’t know. Of how often I could be, and am, wrong. Dramatically wrong.

And I think that’s the secret.

I identified as bisexual until shortly before I made this blog. It was valid and important for my growth and essential for me in realizing I was queer, a possibility I didn’t think could be true when I was first realizing it. It was the language I had at the time. It also wasn’t true. I grew when I learned more about how people experience life and how I actually experienced it as well. When I looked for a new way to describe how I felt, when I decided I wanted to be teachable and learn, I was able to accept a new world with a new label that was more accurate to my experience. Even if it was uncomfortable, and involved me learning more about sex and how people interact with it than I ever wanted to know.

A year ago, if you said “he/him lesbians” I would have been utterly confused and mildly consternated. Now I’ve learned (I’m still a little confused but I think I mostly have the idea). In fact, a year ago I had one trans friend I rarely talked to. Now I have multiple trans friends I talk to every single day. And I have learned so much, because I decided to get over my own mild intimidation and concern and unfamiliarity, step into relationship, emphasize similarities and bonding over differences, and actually shut up and listen. And I’m so, so glad I did. I am so glad I decided to be teachable and accept that I don’t know everything about everyone’s experiences. And I, in turn, am so glad that those people made room for me to be their friend, and consider me as a valuable person with her own insights they were willing to hear. I have a little hole of passion in my heart for trans people now and how they’re treated at large, and it’s because I’ve actually listened to their plight rather than other people telling me how I should think about their plight.

On a less serious note, I hate country music. I have also observed that it’s very popular in my area (*cringe*). I’ve also noticed that Morgan Wallen shows up a lot on the charts. So today I decided to listen to a song by him. And I didn’t love the lyrics or his country twang, but I did like the rest of the music behind it. So I’m gonna listen to his album sometime this week. I’m going to grow my music taste a bit, because there has to be a reason why people are connecting to it so much it’s been on the charts for weeks.

Growing old is a fact of life that comes from being born in a certain time and having lived a certain number of years. Staying young is an active choice based on the knowledge that you will never know everything and committing to learn as much as possible all the time.

How do you not become the people you hate? Become the people you loved when you were young. And commit to always learning. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Because you don’t know everything, your perspective is limited even about who you are, let alone about the people around you, and you are always capable of growth. How can you make logical deductions if you don’t have all the evidence?

Commit to being teachable, and you will always find something new to learn.

[sylverstorms]

Miss Fortune x Reader ----Salt-Crusted Heart

For an easier read, head to Ao3.

Another day. Another hunt for a fetter.

Feels like this is your life now, your present and your future. It feels like this war against the ever-spreading mist and Viego will never end. Your days as a trainee Sentinel, where the tough schedule of the Academy was your only problem, seem so far away now it’s like they belong in a dream. Like that was a different you.

And it was, wasn’t it.

That ‘you’ hadn’t ever slashed at anything other than a training dummy. Now you’re out here –with a very dysfunctional crew of lunatics— fighting mist monsters.

Said dysfunctional crew is, once again, arguing amongst themselves on which way you’re supposed to be headed next. Everyone’s got their own opinion and somehow it never matches with anyone else’s. You don’t even know how they manage that.

It takes a few light years for the majority to agree you’re heading to Bilgewater.

By the time you Wayfinder them there, you’re not surprised that all you see is darkness and sickly green mist. Half the world has gone to shit already and you’ve come to terms with that. More or less. Probably less.

“Wow.” you say as you take in the ghostly-looking town ahead of you and the armada of ships at the port below, blocking this side of the island off completely. Not that there’s a lot to block because the place is a ravaged hellhole anyway.

The environment has this wrecked, haunted vibe that would be super interesting to see in a movie with an apocalypse theme. Perhaps not so much on an actualapocalypse, though.

“Likin’ the view?” Graves asks, the corner of his lips sealed over his cigar.

“No, it was more of a ‘this is so much worse than I could have imagined’ type of wow.” you explain.

“It really is.” Riven agrees.

“Funny thing; the mist ain’t changed it all that much.” Graves laughs.

“Hey. Focus.” Lucian chastises. This guy, you’re convinced, is allergic to lightening the mood. He’s also not someone you dare say this to. “See that?” he points at the sea, to the massive ship there, towering over the rest.

You’re so focused on its fine craftsmanship and the little details you keep finding the longer your eye remains on it, you miss his point entirely, at first. Then you blink and look closer –at the thin, telltale trail of green-black smoke floating upwards from its deck.

There’s no mistaking it; a fetter is on that vessel.

“Now, listen up, everybody. Big Ol’ Graves is a legend around these parts, so my name will get us on that beauty. But. People here can be a bit… unfriendly towards new faces.” he begins. “Let’s not walk up there like an attack force and end up riddled with holes, ye?”

“Good idea.” you nod.

“Rookie, Graves, you’re heading up first.” Lucian motions with his chin.

“Bad idea.” you comment, but his skewering glare has you agreeing with the plan the same second.

“Signal if you need help.” Senna adds.

Graves only laughs heartily and grabs your uniform with his large hands, pulling you along. You know you won’t like what you hear when he leans down and whispers to you:

“We won’t have time to signal if they decide we’re not worth listening to but let’s not tell them that, Rook.”

“That’s… just what I needed to hear.” you grimace.

“Ha! Which means you’re goin’ up first. Chances are they won’t instantly shoot your pretty face off.”

“Wait… what about that ‘my name will get us up there, no trouble’?” you ask.

“Hah! That was just to impress Vayne, kiddo. My name is far more likely to get us killed in these parts.” he laughs but you don’t. “Did she look impressed?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, she didn’t, mate.” Nothing has ever moved Vayne other than when she kills monsters in a particularly violent way.

“Ah, shit. Maybe next time.”

Yeah, if there is a next time.

Your chances aren’t looking good as soon as you step onto that deck and every weapon imaginable is suddenly shifted to you.

…

Graves tells you to put your ‘social skills’ into good use. You are not aware that was one of your talents, so it’s probably more of his bullshit. Either way, death by a thousand bullets gives you a solid motivation to turn the charm on and talk.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure we can all come to an agreement here. No need for all that firepower.” you say, totally not sweating at all underneath your white jacket. “You have something that we need and I’m sure we can negotiate a profitable deal for everyone.”

Jackpot. Bounty hunters want money more than anything. And there is not a sweeter sound to their ears than the promise of wealth. Even if you’re just talking nonsense to save your ass.

“If I could just speak to the captain—”

“The captain is listening.” a commanding voice says from up ahead. Some of the crew members part to let her through…

And.

You see a vision in this nightmare.

The woman that walks forward stands out like fire over water, like stark color on Bilgewater’s salt-washed palette. Maybe it’s the vivid red of her flowing hair, stark against the gold-trimmed black of her hat, or the emerald green of her eyes, or the way she holds herself, a queen on this deck. Whatever the reason, you cannot tear your gaze off of her.

Tongue-tied at the moment, you let Graves do the talking. Big mistake.

The goddess’ visage darkens when she sees your company, who she addresses in a less than pleasant tone: “Look what washed in with the tide. Malcolm Goddamn Graves.” You wouldn’t want that glare directed at you, ever.

“Fortune? Ah, hells, naw.” he curses. “What are ya doin’ here? How did ya get a whole damn fleet a’ warships?”

“A lot has changed since we last met. Fools around here decided to challenge me for control over Bilgewater. I locked this place down until we can resolve this inconvenience.” she says, like cutting off half the freaking island is not a big issue.

The sound of her heels on the wooden floor is downright ominous as she approaches. Her eye scans you lightning-quick, then the entirety of her attention is on Graves. The very next second…

A blunderbuss pistol is pointing right to your face, same as his.

“Whoah.” you gasp.

“What’s Gankplank paying you?!” she demands.

“I ain’t workin’ for that bastard! I ain’t even on speakin’ terms with his orange-eatin’ ass! Ya know that!”

“What I know is you came onto my deck with fancy new equipment and a whole team of mercenaries at your back. You know, just in case you thought you were being subtle, in all that silver and white sticking out in Bilgewater like a sore thumb.” She has a point. “That getup isn’t cheap and there’s only one cretin around here with that kind of coin. Now tell me what he’s planning, of you’ll be smoking that cigar through a new hole.”

“Um –ma’am? He’s telling the truth.” You almost regret speaking up when her piercing stare lands on you. “And we’re not mercenaries. We’re Sentinels of Light.” you add.

“You put on a convincing performance, cutie.” she says.

In any other scenario, a goddess like that calling you cute would make you blush. But the gun still very much in your face makes it difficult to really register the word.

“Like you’ve never heard of the ‘Saltwater Scourge’, ‘Reaver King of the High Seas’… ‘Scum-sucking Hagfish Who Takes All You Ever Cared About’…”

Oh, okay. So, she’s got a screw loose as well.Not surprising considering the company you attract, lately.

“Nope. Kiddo’s right, Sarah. They’re Sentinels, alright.” the very familiar voice of your boss, which normally doesn’t make you happy to hear, has the opposite effect now. Lucian walks up behind you to save the day.

“Lucian?” she asks, finally lowering her weapons. “…this is your crew?”

“Yep. And I’d appreciate it if you kindly refrained from killing them. Need about every gun we can get.” he replies.

“Follow me.” she says. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

…

Captain Fortune does not drive an easy bargain.

From what you hear later, she’s given Lucian a real hard time with negotiations. And even now, she’s the one who holds all the cards.

If you are to defeat Viego and make it clear to Bilgewater it was her who made it possible, she is willing to trade with the fetter and even let you stay on her ship in the meantime. Otherwise, if she gets the feeling it’s him who gains ground and holds the power in this place, you’re basically screwed.

The others are uneasy. They’ve suggested multiple times you steal the fetter from Fortune and dash for your lives after. Thing is, with how close she keeps that relic, that plan is looking impossible.

Which brings you to where you are right now, all the Sentinels and Miss Fortune gathered around the same map, planning your next action.

“Yes, but if I help you get there, what’s in it for me?” she asks.

And really, you don’t have anything to offer her in return. Even Lucian looks to Senna for help. Who, in turn, looks at you.

Why do they keep doing that? What have you done to convince these people you are good at talking? Especially to women like the captain.

“How about the… moral reward of helping save people from these monsters?” you suggest.

Her green eyes –and holy shit are they green— look at you like she wants to both scoff and laugh sardonically. “Tell me that is a joke.”

“It –it really isn’t.” you reply.

She huffs. “Look. I’m sure you’re all nice people. But nice people here get their throats cut.” She motions with her hand. “The cutthroats get the spoils. That’s how it works. I only care about the spoils.” she states. “So, if you want things from me and my crew, you need to make it worth our time.”

Their time sure isn’t cheap.

You know you don’t have anything at Headquarters with the kind of value she’s looking for. Definitely no coin and no gold for her services. But. You’ve heard multiple times during classes that the materials the Sentinel outfits are weaved from are extremely durable and therefore, extremely desirable.

“Would you and your crew be interested in a wardrobe overhaul?” you ask. All eyes are on you, but hers are the most intense. “Every prestigious fleet has to look the part, no? Plus, these clothes…” you say, grabbing the nearest knife and dragging it across your sleeve. The fabric is not so much as scratched. “…are pretty cool.” you tell her.

Miss Fortune leans back in her captain’s chair with a pretty smile painted on her –very attractive— lips.

“Now you’re talking my language, cutie. I’m sure we can work something out.”

…

On one hand, you have Gwen sewing day and night –your fault, you feel bad for it— while the rest of you handle the fighting. On the other, you do have a ship taking you wherever you need and making your job of clearing the darkness ten times faster.

Even Lucian has given you a pat on the back for that one. That was certainly unexpected.

“We need Fortune to take us here.” Senna points on the map. “Rookie, you go tell her.”

You almost choke on your water. “Why me?” you ask.

“Because you’re finally making yourself useful.” Lucian replies. Ouch.

“I’ve been very useful from the start!” you argue. The others look amongst themselves. “Hey!”

“I mean… points for effort.” Diana comments.

“Moral support is useful, I agree.” Riven smirks at you.

‘Asshole’ you mouth, rising from your seat. Her grin only widens.

You send them a narrowed, unimpressed look over your shoulder on your way out. Some of the crew members that see you walking towards the captain’s cabin whistle your way. You’re sure there’s tons of colorful comments behind your back but you have bigger things to worry about.

Like… the way a certain redhead looks leaned back in her plush chair, a queen on her throne, toying with a gold coin that flips over her nimble fingers with effortless ease. Focus on the mission. The mission, I say. Oh, Gods…

“I love how they send you in to ask for extra.” she says. “So. Are you the silver tongue of the group?” There’s something in her little smirk and the way she says ‘tongue’ that gets to you, but that’s probably just your vivid imagination.

That and the months you’ve spent without any outlet for your stress other than fighting, on top of more fighting.

“No, the others are just that terrible at basic social interactions.” It’s the truth.

Fortune gives a small chuckle. “Let’s see how good you are, then, Sentinel.”

You pleadwith your hopeless lesbian brain not to fry on the spot. “We sort of need you to get us further than discussed. While hoping that… the scenic route will be its own reward?”

“Cute.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” you perk up.

“No.”

“I’ll send Lucian here next time so he can bore you to death until you agree.” You never claimed to be above blackmail.

“A bold statement.” she replies. “Tell you what. If you demolish a few of my enemies’ ships during your hunt for the mist things, then deal.”

Sentinels aren’t supposed to do that. And if you tell Lucian, that will be his exact answer. You can already hear his unpleasant voice in your head. However, you’ve already figured out the world doesn’t work by the Sentinel Code, so…

“Accidents do happen on the battlefield.” you say.

Sarah gives you that slow smile that makes a certain part of you feel hot under your outfit. “And don’t bring any of the others in here to negotiate. I’d rather look at your pretty face.”

Uh.

Um.

By the time you exit the cabin, all you can think is, what just happened?

…

Combat is a rush, sometimes. As is knowing you’re getting stronger and faster by the day. You still don’t hold a candle to the rest of your group, but you can finally say you’re helping them out.

Being further up in the enemy’s face, though, is also petrifying. You see a twisted reflection of yourself in every mist wraith’s dead eyes. There are nightmares that come hand-in-hand with the experience… and then there’s physical pain.

You’ve been hurt before. Their talons can slice through even your magic-reinforced outfits. Still, every time feels worse than the last. The laceration you’re currently sporting on your side is burning like the fires of hell.

You’re trying not to scream by the time Riven lowers you onto the deck. Your vision is blurred with sweat and the tears you’re fighting to keep at bay.

“What’s going on here?” you hear Fortune’s voice in your haze.

“Tell me you have a healer on board!” Riven shouts.

“And they can get here fast!” Senna adds.

You’re not sure how much time passes. It feels like light years until someone kneels beside you and starts working on your wound. The healing magic pulls and sears at you. Every muscle in your body is taut with the effort to keep still.

“Isn’t …a healing spell supposed to numb the pain, first?” Diana asks.

“Look, blondie, I’m no professional here, ye? Just picked up a few things from mah old man. If ya wanna criticize, come here and do it yourself.” he answers. And it’s …not the best feeling in the world to hear your healer say that.

“No offense. Just worried for our teammate.” Senna adds. At least one of your bosses cares about your wellbeing.

The other just benches you for the next mission.

…

Out of all the people you expected to come see you while you’re recovering, Sarah Fortune is the last who came to mind. You’re almost shocked mute when the captain comes to sit on the edge of your bed, graceful and fluid as ever. Gorgeous as ever, too, while you’re sure you look pale as a ghost, eyes sunken as a shipwreck.

“Hey, Rookie.” she greets.

“Ah, great. That nickname’s never gonna come off, is it.” you roll your blue eyes.

“How’s the battle scar?”

“I’m not bleeding all over your fancy deck anymore, at least.” you say. “Guess I should be glad for that.” Although you are a bit frustrated that the ‘healer’s’ hand was so shaky there’s a scar left there now, permanently, when it could have been avoided. “And that the dude wasn’t drunk bad enough to stitch my organs to my skin.”

“Yeah, luckily he was only a little drunk.” she nods.

“That makes total sense for a healer. Who, from what I know from four years at the Academy, should always be sober.” you cannot keep it in any longer.

“That’s… a tall order here.” Yes, of course, the place is far too shitty for that.

“I gathered.”

“Come, now. Don’t be upset about the scar.” You’re upset about the pain that could have been avoided if the damn guy just didn’t drink his ass off in the middle of the day. “…Want me to kiss it better?”

You’re so far up your mind –filled with thoughts of being a dead weight on the team on top of your dead classmates because of Viego— you don’t even hear her. Your head is pounding from the pressure the memory causes you, a killer mix with the effect of the painkillers you’ve been on, all evening.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” you reply, your voice hoarse and alien to your own ears.

…

You and Fortune talk a bit more on the two days you’re out of commission.

You learn a few things about her, like the fact you have a common interest in psychology. Like the fact you shouldn’t ever ask about her past or her family, unless you want her to close up tighter than a clam, at the speed of lightning. In the meantime, if it feels like she may be throwing more smirks your way than when she talks to anyone else, you blame that on your wishful thinking.

That woman is way out of your league.

It is one in the night and everyone on the ship is either well asleep or completely passed out from booze. You wake up from a nightmare, then fully register the way the ship is swaying from the angry waves. The resulting nausea has you completely losing the desire to fall back into the land of dreams.

You thought you’d be the only one awake when you walked up to the deck, yet you quickly realize that’s not the case when the sound of heels approaches from behind. You already know it’s her. The night breeze does a wonderful job of carrying her perfume straight to your nose. As if she wasn’t already fatally attractive without it.

You keep your eyes on the waves, so dark blue they look black.

“Oh, this is a surprise. Such a romantic soul, admiring the sea in the dead of night.” she says. The slight –sexy as fuck— slur to her words must have something to do with the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Yeah, my thoughts are not that deep.” you chuckle. “More like ‘fuck this constant motion under my feet’.”

She gives a small, airy exhale that could pass as a laugh, leaning on the railing next to you. Kind of close, too. “Ah and here I thought Sentinels didn’t swear.” she says. “And that they don’t drink. Unless you care to prove me wrong there, too.”

She takes a swing of the bottle and passes it to you. The smart part of your brain tells you it is a bad, bad idea. The rest of you is seduced by the promise of the buzz and the challenge in her eyes.

Well. Since you’re not really getting anywhere closer to where her lips are in anything other than your very private fantasies, you think may just take the chance for an indirect kiss that’s presented.

The gulp you take from the bottle –you intended a sip but the fucking ship moves so much— burns a trail down your throat and past your insides. You almost cough. How heavy is this thing?

“Ahem. So.” you begin. “What’s keeping you out late?”

“I have great company.” At first you think she means you, then you realize it’s the bottle that’s lucky. Hah, fell right into that one. “And… my cabin is very cold tonight.”

It’s really chilly, yeah, but it’s not that bad, you think. Maybe the two of you are just used to different climates, though. “I’m… sorry to hear that.” you reply.

“Well. Guess I should head in or it will never warm up by itself.” she says.

You nod and bid her goodnight, turning your eyes back to the inky waves. But then you feel her weight softly crash into your back, ample chest pressing against you, one of her hands on your waist and the other on the railing next to yours for support. Her lips are right by your ear, so close you feel them brush against the shell as she says:

“Oops.”

Then she’s gone, taking her extremely sexy perfume with her, while your stomach drops to the sea and sinks right to the very bottom. It takes a few moments to realize you’re still holding the railing so tightly your fingers have gone white.

What the…

You go back to bed trying not to think about whatever that was.

The next day, you have no idea why she’s not speaking to you at all, or why she doesn’t even look at you when she addresses the Sentinels, none-too-pleased with your progress.

…

When one of the crewmates tell you the captain has summoned you, you do a double take and ask if she really means you. Fortune has been in a weird mood towards you since that night, to say the least.

You are mentally braced for the worst when you enter her cabin. You’re already tired from fighting mist wraiths all morning and you don’t think you can handle whatever it is that’s going on with her at the moment.

Scratch that. You’re sure you can’t when she gets up from her seat, walking almost in a circle around you, like a shark. You lean back against the wooden surface of her desk, waiting. Cautious.

“Have I not been clear enough, all these days?” she asks, as if wondering out loud.

“Um…. excuse me?” you question back. Has the mist gotten to her? It has been known to cause strange behavior after prolonged exposure.

She’s at the door now, facing you without really looking at you and it makes you feel trapped. Your one escape is blocked. “You’re not from around here, so I thought it was best not to be… Bilgewater-forward.” she says. “On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve been that subtle?”

“…I’m. I’m not…sure I follow.” you speak, quietly.

“Do you really have no idea or are you just trying to be polite?” She finally looks into your eyes.

You shake your head ‘no’.

She licks her lips. “What, was I supposed to give you a formal letter inviting you to my cabin for sex the other night?” Your jaw, you think, hits the floor and shatters. Your whole body shivers and goes rigid. “If you don’t want to, just say it so I won’t wait around for nothing.”

You… don’t know what words are at the moment. The ground has disappeared and you’re a falling mess. It is the worst case of freezing on the spot you’ve ever experienced.

“That’s not… that’s not… the case.” you manage to say.

“Good to know.” she nods, casually, then strides up to you and grabs the front of your high-collared Sentinel jacket, bringing you lip-to-lip. “Is this clear enough for you?” she breathes against you.

It’s more than clear enough when her plump lips seal over yours, tasting of sweet-flavored lipstick and alcohol and sea-salt. In fact, it is clear like a nuclear bomb going off on the back of your head.

The heat wave burns down your stomach violently and it only gets worse when she pushes her tongue into your mouth, licking over yours, her hips practically straddling you with how tightly fitted you stand. Every movement of her mouth or her body echoes all the way down yours.

It’s beyond anything you could have ever conjured in your head, having her angle your chin however she wants it while her hips slowly rock against you. It’s almost too hard and too fast and too good –and you get too close.

But then—

A knock comes on the door.

“Captain?” someone asks from the outside and it’s both a blessing and a dark curse.

Sarah tries to catch her breath, every exhale tickling your ear. “One moment.” she calls over her shoulder, sounding every bit the captain she is, as if the past minutes where you were literally dry humping each other didn’t happen.

She pulls back from you with a satisfied little smirk at how wrecked you no doubt look, pulling your outfit straight. Her thumb wipes off the smudge of her lipstick on the corner of your mouth, then she goes to a nearby mirror to reapply hers.

When she walks back over to you, your knees shake at just the sight of her. You don’t know how you’ll ever calm down from this. Safe to say she’s ruined every kiss you’ve ever had or will have.

“My bedroom will be open to you tonight. Consider this your formal letter, yes?” her long fingers brush over your jawline, as she stalks back to her seat.

“Come in.” she calls, poker face on, sounding bored.

You make your escape as tactical –and dignified— as possible and don’t look back until you’re practically off the ship.

…

To say you are distracted for the rest of the hours until night completely settles over Bilgewater is an understatement. Your head is in the clouds and you have no idea what’s going on around you. The whole world could catch fire and all you’ll be thinking about is Fortune, Fortune, Fortune…

“What’s got you so quiet tonight, little Sentinel?” Riven asks.

Only the best damn kiss of your entire life. Plus the fact you’re living a dream and you don’t want to wake up. “Maybe I’m just trying to imitate Vayne. From now on you’ll hear my voice only when we kill stuff.”

“Ha, ha.” Vayne comments in typical Vayne style from her seat, hunched over her weapon and making calibrations.

“All I’ll say is, be careful.” the Noxian lowers her voice a bit, the words kept between the two of you.

“Of what?” you play dumb.

“Just in general.”

You don’t know what Riven suspects but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been through a lot these past months. You deserve to feel something good once in a while. Your love life is none of their business unless it interferes with their business, which it won’t because you’re sure this won’t mean anything beyond Fortune’s bedroom.

You wait until everyone on the ship is asleep and take a liquid courage boost to sneak to the captain’s cabin.

…

One knock. That is all your knuckles manage, one contact with the door, until it swings open and a familiar hand grabs at the front of your outfit, pulling you in.

You’re pressed back against it as soon as it shuts, crimson lips hot on yours before you can even think to say anything. Gods, is she always so insistent?You could melt into a wet puddle on the floor from the way she presses into you alone. This woman knows exactly what she wants and how to take it.

Somewhere in the back of your head you hear the sound of a lock turning.

“Took you long enough.” she whispers when you break apart.

Once again, whatever you were about to say is cut off by her tugging on the high collar of your jacket. She either has a thing for it or for pulling you around in general, you think. No complains, whatever the case.

“Won’t you give me the tour around, first?” you ask, playing coy only thanks to the drink you’ve had. Otherwise, you’d be your usual self; a mess.

“Oh, sure.” she says as she shoves you into her bedroom, illuminated by a single candle. “Wardrobe, guns, bed.”

Well. It still feels like the best tour you’ve ever had when she walks you back until you’re falling on her very comfortable mattress, with her perched above you like a predator. She gives you a little smirk as she straddles your thigh and sits up, undoing the taut buttons on her shirt, painfully slow.

Oh… It would be very awkward if you died from a heart attack now, yet it feels like you’re on the verge of one.

“Nothing smart to say now, Sentinel?” The confidence comes with her looks, you’re sure. She knows she’s hot as fuck.

You shake your head, speechless, eyes travelling from her toned midriff to her perfect chest, to her hypnotic eyes and the sensual way her hair spills like a red waterfall across her shoulders. This is a dream, it’s not real life, but don’t wake me up ever…

Fortune leans back down, taking your chin in two fingers as she studies your flushed face. You don’t know what she’s looking for, but something in her visage softens a fraction.

“If it’s too much at any point, tell me.”

“If I can talk, I will.” you say, mesmerized by the way her eyes look under the dim light.

Your next liplock is a little less rushed than your previous ones. She takes her time exploring your mouth and you gradually get bolder with where you touch her, fingers grazing up her sides to her stomach, to the underside of her bra.

Her lips leave yours only to burn a trail down the corner of your mouth, across your jawline and to your neck. Deft fingers undo the clasps and pull down the zipper of your white jacket, guiding it past your shoulders without taking it completely off. She definitely has a thing for it. You’d comment on that, too, if you could think about anything other than how good she smells.

Clothes come off while she sucks on your neck, teeth pressing against you just shy of leaving marks. When both of you are down to your underwear and breathing heavy, her fingers caressing dangerously low on your waistline, her lips come near your ear.

“So… I want to make you beg, but I can’t help but feel like I’m already corrupting you a lot.”

Corrupt away. you want to tell her.

“Does that turn you on?” you whisper in her ear and feel her response with how her hips press down harder onto yours.

“Yes.” That breathless admission becomes your undoing.

You get lost in her lips after it and the sensation of her fingers on you –inyou— working you up towards what could be simultaneously your ruin and your salvation. You touch her in turn, filling the room with both your moans and gasps, until that glorious peak of white-hot pleasure where the whole world comes to a stop for a few moments.

There is a time limit to your time together, now and generally, you are aware. But you allow yourselves a few quiet moments together as you lay there with the excuse of catching your breath, even if you already have.

Tough game you’re playing here. The smarter part of your brain says. It’s all too easy to get addicted to having her atop you like this. The better the dream, the more bitter the wakeup.

When Fortune lifts herself off you to slide under her heavy covers, you register the chill of night. You dress almost sluggishly, your body so very exhausted from the activities of the whole day.

Kissing her goodnight is almost an urge you fight under control, not wanting to make her uncomfortable if this was all she wanted out of your dalliance.

“Well, my bunk is calling.” you turn around to tell her, trying not to blush when you see her with her elbow resting on her pillow, cheek cutely pressed on her fist, watching you like a languid cat.

“Hate to watch you leave but I love to watch you go.” she smirks at you.

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

…

It is after a long damn day of fighting that you get to finally sit down and enjoy a meal and drinks.

The crew was cold and distrustful towards you at first, but they seem to have opened up more over the course of weeks –especially today, after you secured them a chest filled with gold coins left behind by wealthy people who were running from the wraiths. From the corner of your eye, you subtly watch Sarah Fortune interact with her men, hoping it’s not obvious how badly into her you are.

“So…” Riven begins from the chair next to you and you know that’s not going to be good.

“What?” You face her, playing cool.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to say that she’s bad for you… but I will, anyway.” You give Riven a blank stare that absolutely doesn’t fool her. Shit.

“Like how do you even know.” You finally break.

“It wasn’t obvious since day one there was something there?” Yeah, maybe to everyone except you.

“Wait.” Hold on a second. “Does everyone know?”

“I think everyone except Diana has pretty much figured it out.” That certainly explains the looks Lucian has been giving you all day. Double shit.

“What? The thing between Fortune and Rookie, here?” Diana asks from behind you.

Triple—

“Scratch that. Everyone knows.” Riven tells you. “And we all agree. She’s bad for you.” You hate the emphasis on that. “As in the worst.”

“I getit, Riven, thank you.” You shake your hand in her face while the other covers yours.

“I mean I know ruthless, player redheads who can and will absolutely murder you without a second thought are, like, a kink of yours—”

You don’t think your face gets any redder than this. “What—” you nearly choke on air. “That –how do you figure that out? That’s not even true.”

“Dude. When Katarina Du Couteau was brought into our conversation you nearly gasped and fangirled for the next hour.”

“I just heard a lot about one of our biggest Demacian enemies and wanted to know if it was all true!” you defend yourself.

“You asked me if she’s as hot as rumor has it, not about her war achievements.” Riven laughs.

“And you didn’t answer! Well, is she or isn’t she?” you ask. For… scientific purposes.

“I’m not going to answer that!” Riven lifts her hands up.

“She is.” Graves says as he slides into the seat next to you, drink in hand.

“Thank you!” You pat him on the shoulder.

“We should totally have her join the Sentinels.” he adds.

“Hah!” A vein pops at Riven’s temple. “And the answer will be something along the lines of ‘bold of you to assume I give a single fuck about the world’.” comes the imitation.

“Whoa, that’s exactly how she sounds like.” Graves says.

You’re glad the conversation has shifted away from you, at least.

From the opposite side of the room, you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you, yet they’re averted the second you raise yours to meet them.

…

They may know about your one-time thing with Fortune and heavily scrutinize it, but they still send you in now that they need to ask for more from the captain. With that, your teammates lose every right to comment on what you do and don’t do with her.

“We’ll get you the coin from that ship –well, Graves will, since they already hate him—and you help us out here. Deal?” you ask her.

There. You can be a professional and negotiate terms with the most beautiful woman in the world, who you also happened to have had mindblowing sex with, without constantly looking at her lips.

“Deal, but…” she begins. “You’re sitting all the way over there… why?”

So much for keeping your mind out of the gutter. “Um.” You lick your lips, unsure of what to say, while she smirks slow, like the cat that got the canary.

“Come here.” A pat on her desk, right in front of her chair.

Against your better judgement, you walk around the furniture and lean there, really, really close to her, especially when she stands, towering over you in her heels. You can tell she likes it, too.

“Don’t look at me like that, we leave in ten minutes.” you say. It doesn’t even phase her.

Her fingers move to the zipper of your jacket and although you should stop her, you don’t. “Really?” she leans closer, closer still, until her tantalizing mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours.

“…really. Nine, now.” you waver.

“Guess we have to be fast, then.”

She lightly pushes you onto her desk and starts undoing your belt buckles. The thought of what you’re about to do alone could make you come on the spot. It’s not just the thought that’s threatening to do that, when you feel her cool fingers slide right where you need them.

“You’re going to ditch me for your little Sentinel friends, who don’t like me?” she asks in your ear.

Oh, Gods…

“Ah, I like you enough for all of us, Fortune.” your lips move against her jawline as you speak. A little further down and you can feel how quick her pulse is. You wouldn’t have guessed, with how composed she looks fingering you on her desk.

“Sarah.” she holds your chin with two fingers as she says it, like a secret between you. “Call me Sarah when you come.”

You do.

…

It becomes a nightly thing after that, your visits in her bedroom.

She’s insatiable and she makes everything bothering you go away for those precious hours. But. The more you see of her, you cannot help but feel like something’s very wrong with Sarah.

Underneath the visage of the ruthless captain, the queen who can just reach out and take anything she wants, you see… cracks. She doesn’t sleep well. She drinks. You’re pretty sure you’re another distraction –coping mechanism?— although it doesn’t bother you. She’s the same for you, isn’t she?

It’s not like you have feelings for her.

…Right?

No, no that would be terrible. You definitely don’t. You are allowed to love the way her fingers are running lazy circles on your thigh right now without any sort of complicated emotions involved.

“You should quit while you’re ahead.” she tells you, half muffled into her pillow, stark black against the red of her hair.

This or the Sentinel war? You wonder.

“You have little cuts everywhere. They don’t even have time to disappear before new ones open on top of them.” she moves the back of her pointer to the biggest visible line near your knee, then up your arm, until her hand rests on the crook of your neck. “Leave the others to deal with the mist. It’s not your problem.”

“The world’s problem is my problem. Guess where I lived and what region fell to Viego first.”

You refrain from telling her how many people close to you met his blade before that. How many of the classmates you ate and trained with for four years you had to see skewered by him, on his insane quest for his ‘love’. You don’t want to sour your time together with your burdens. Your pain, your nightmares, are your own to deal with.

“If you keep going you’ll fall to him first.” she counters. “You’ll die protecting one of those idiots in your group or some random civilian.”

“Thanks, Miss Fortune-teller.” you say, a tad irked at her blatant disregard for anyone who isn’t herself.

“I don’t have to be one to tell.” she gives you a sad smile. “It’s always the good ones that die. It’s always the monsters that win.”

You can’t help but wonder…

What made you this way?

…

You see now why emotions are considered a distraction on the battlefield. Even as you kill monsters, all you think about is her.

Come to think of it…

You’ve never seen her smile for real. What you’re looking for is a far cry from those smirks she throws around to bring people to their knees, or the sardonic ones she levels Lucian with. Even those she offers you behind closed doors have a shadow underneath them. It makes you wonder about what would make her happy enough to give a genuine smile.

When you happen across a shipwreck filled with valuables, you think this may be it. The Sentinels take what they need and agree to give the rest to Fortune to stay on her good graces.

Her whole ship lights up with the joy of riches. The crew is ecstatic. Laughter and cheers fill the deck.

And yet.

Her glee is pretend, just for the sake of her men. Her eyes are hollow.

When she eventually retreats to her cabin, you follow her and knock on her door. “It’s always open for you~” she calls from the inside, already in the company of a whiskey bottle.

You turn the key behind you, then lean forward with your hands on her desk, staring at her.

“Why this serious, sexy?” she asks. “Need me to help loosen you up a bit?”

“You need to part with the fetter, Sarah.” you state. “It affects you in ways you won’t notice or understand but it always does.”

“Ah, part with it so you and your crew of misfits can steal it from me? Hmm… no.” she chuckles.

“I care more about what it does to you than the fetter itself right now.” you try again. Only to fail again.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t trust you.” Talk about words being sharper than knives, sometimes. “Don’t take it personally; I don’t trust anyone.”

“What a joyful life this must be.” you bite back.

“Coin is joy for me, sweetheart.” she leans back in her plush chair, taking another swing from the bottle.

“You didn’t seem very happy to me, back there.”

She gives you a look and finally sets the whiskey down. “Come here. I’ll tell you a little secret about me.” she says, a tad more serious than before.

Cautiously, you step around the desk until you’re in front of her seat. Her hand shoots up like a bullet, then, taking hold of your jacket and dragging you down until the two of you are eye-level.

“You know what would really make me happy right now?” You feel her leg move up the inside of yours, deliciously slow, as she speaks… until she hooks her calf behind your knee and makes your weight fall onto it. “For you to shut up about fetters and concerns and go down on me.”

Fuck.

Deep down, to a small part of you not ruled by your hormones, you know using sex to avoid any sort of deeper conversation between you is unhealthy. You know an arrangement where there’s no trust is unhealthy.

Then again, the circumstances that brought you together are anything but healthy.

And what sort of pretty flower can burst forth, really, from a corrupted seed?

…

When you return from your mist-slaying, late in the evening, the crew is uneasy.

“Don’t bother the cap’n right now.” One of the men says. “She ain’t havin’ the best o’ days.”

You later find out that they had a run-in with an enemy fleet. That the Reaver King has resurfaced and is looking to claim Bilgewater for himself. Major shit is about to go down, the bounty hunters tell you and you do not want to be outsiders caught in the middle when it finally hits the fan.

You give Sarah her space until the need to check up on her becomes overwhelming.

One knock on the door. “Leave.” she hisses from within the office like a tensed cat. Another knock. “You have ten seconds before I put a bullet through your skull!”

“Can’t imagine I’ll be very attractive then.” you reply.

The door swings open; her eyes are the epitome of a raging storm. You’ve never seen her like this, so hateful and distressed… and it hurts to witness. “My ‘leave’ applies to everyone. You, included.”

“Cool.” you nod at her. Pause. “So… can I come in now?”

Sarah throws her hands up in exasperation, pivoting with an angry, whispered ‘whatever’. She paces across her cabin, an agitated lion one step away from pouncing. Her hands run through her fiery hair as though they cannot keep still.

“You need to leave Bilgewater asap and never come back.” You don’t know if she’s talking to you or thinking out loud. “You need to go. With or without the rest of them, I don’t care, just go!”

“What’s… gotten into you?” you dare ask.

“He’s back. He always comes back, no matter how many times I sink the bastard. It’s like he cannot die. He just won’t die!” her voice is raw with her rage. “You Sentinels fight the darkness but you don’t kill evil. Evil will still be here –rooted here— even if you win.”

You open your mouth but can’t find anything to say.

“I have to win my own war. I will be victorious no matter the cost, no matter the bloodshed.” Sarah goes on. “But I need to know that you won’t be here. Do you understand?!”

You just look at her, sad and frozen, trying to understand. There’s nothing you can say to ease what’s hurting her and nothing you can do. You’ve seen this wretched thing eat away at her every day since the moment you met. It’s too deeply engraved in her heart for you to hope to change it; and it has little to do with the fetter in her possession.

Sarah crosses the room in two large strides and grabs your biceps. She looks like she’s ready to throw you off her ship herself…

Until.

She pulls you into her arms, instead.

Tight, like she’s afraid you’ll be gone the moment she lets go, she holds you close. Her head is tucked into your shoulder, her nails press hard into your back. You slowly bring your hands up to encircle her waist in return.

“I’ve lost everything. He took everything from me. I won’t give him the chance to take you away, as well.” she says.

Oh. you think. She cares about you, after all.

If only that was a good thing for either of you.

…

You feel it, when the moment comes.

Maybe you’ve always felt it and just didn’t want to admit it.

When Sarah stands in front of Viego offering the lot of you up along with the fetter in exchange for his ruined power, you know the agony you feel, like a blade splitting you down the middle, is your own doing. There is nobody but yourself to blame for it. The others warned you. Your own instinct warned you.

You didn’t listen.

You wanted to trust her. Maybe even to love her.

But her hatred runs deeper than whatever measly thing you were to her.

As the mist shrouds Fortune and turns her red hair luminescent blonde, as it eats away at her colors until they’re all black and sickly green, until the eyes you knew turn cold and unfeeling, you feel something in you crack. Maybe it’s your faith. Maybe it’s your heart.

There’s a lesson to take from this, you’re sure, despite how your emotions choke you. Right now, though, you focus on avoiding her bullets and having your teammates’ backs in the rain of chaos that follows.

You end up deep in the water, bleeding, defeated. You and the other Sentinels have never been crushed by your losses, but it will take some time to pick up your pieces and continue onward until the end of your war.

You allow yourself one scream muffled in the dark sea.

When you swim to the shore and pull your body out of the mud, you are silent.

“Are you okay? I know that was harder for you than it was for us.” Riven lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’ll let it hurt after we get Viego.”

For now, you can’t afford taking the pain of a broken heart with you on the battlefield.

Sarah. You later think. Now I understand why hurricanes are named after people.

[bobzora]

GUESS WHO BEAT PEE3 TODAY (fes, the journey at least)

(lengthy) final thoughts:

ryoji is kind of. um. "that was my name for a while. i didnt mind it." hes kind of trans. is the thing. also bro 100% drew the shortest stick in this game lmao

obviously ryo/mina isnt quite the same as some of the other insane peesona gay people (2,5. 4 is gay but not rlly insane) bc like. in that form at least we only know him for like...two months?or so? but. u know what. they r t4t and both (kind of) dead. good for them.?

jumpscared by "the arcana is the means by which all is revealed." ive been seeing that shit in like. youtube comments since the day i was born. insane

nyx was like. pathetically easy. to the point where i felt kinda bad about it lol. at least its funny. this is what happens when u have level 99 protag + black viper lucifer (+ messiah for salvation for ailment healing. i could just use me patra gems but its more stylish this way). nobody ever got below half health and most phases (minus last bc of the halved non-almighty damage + gown) were a 1/2/3 hit kill. guys who overlevel because they just love the velvet room so so much (and im prolly not gonna do ng+, especially with portable port on its way (femc!). so trying to experience most that i can)

i did cheese the reaper a while back. used thunder reign strat. was actually harder bc new moon rebalance nerfed the shock rate so its not 100% lol. but took advantage of its ai to get it stuck in a break skill loop (akihiko dekunda sweep) the money was nice, and i spent soooo much time in monad levelling personas. wont be able to do liz fight bc not doing ng+. (slightly related: ive played pee5 so many times and ive never actually tried the twins/lvnza/jose fights. vanilla 1 time, royal 1 time, royal again for a friends playthrough but its not ng+, ng+ for 100% royal but only up to exams...royal for another friend's playthru. lol)

yuka/mitsu is real. to me. theyre even the colors of the lesbian flag

i maxed most social links besides magician (bc hes annoying. surt wouldve been nice tho), mitsuru (got up to like 8 then ran out of time), fuuka (trapped at rank 1. dont like her enough, not enough time. sorry. i played with english voices u know how it is), yuko (accidentally reversed her), justice (i know. who would have thought. started her wayyy too late.), keisuke (hes soooo cute like. i wanna look like that tbh. but fortune isnt useful enough and i ran out of time)

speaking of social links i literally hate how they work in this game so so so so much. i dont want to date all these girls! let me hang out with other girls please... this is the biggest example of romance making all these games so much worse. like. what the hell. (aigis is like. the only good female social link (that i finished) (maybe bc she isnt very much a girl))

another mechanic i hate: NOT BEING ABLE TO PICK INHERITED SKILLS. is every ps2 era megaten game like this? i love love love 'sona/demon fusion but it is so much harder to make stupid crazy builds when u have to reroll over and over again. literally just a timewaster. what could have been...i cant believe my lucifer is still weak to ice. WHO USES PEESONAS WITH WEAKNESSES. IN THIS DAY AND AGE????

the extremely strange continuity with 1&2 is fucked up to like. nickelodean sitcom cinematic universe levels. u know.

im still fixated on 5.i make that very obvious. and i do like 5's overall story better (royal being a very big portion of that). but GOD i love love love the theming of this game.

those strega guys r definitely fucking. i literally do not care about them but thats kind of just a fact.

the concept of artificial personas (that kill you) (that u have to take meds for which eventually kill you) REALLYYYY fucks me up what a BANGER CONCEPT. JESUS! JESUS. gg kirijo group.

chidori...(wretched)

akinari... (very wretched)

i dont think i have a favorite. tbh. like i like mitsuru because i like women and shes hot but character wise shes not actually super my type. i like ken because hes the most fucked up ten year old in the world (justice bias). aigis is crazycrazy theres stuff to be said abt her (characters who give metatron bias). yukari is a mean girl and i like that about her (lovers bias). ryoji doesnt have that much screentime for obv reasons but thematically hes cool (guys who beg u to kill them bias). i like the protag a lot (protag bias). yeah

OBVIOUSLY i knew we were gonna die. and when. and where. and how. but :( head in aigis's lap, brushing away her robo-tears... didnt cry but wow this game.

joshua peefee christ figure moment

kimi no kioku is the best 'sona song. period. nyx (avatar)&nyx (nyx) songs go hard too. but man!!!! kimi no kioku!! LOVE how its kind of a motif in so many other parts of the soundtrack, especially near the end...a unifying melody, an overarching theme.

forever from now ill prolly watch the movies just so i can make an amv. this game needs an amv. and unlike pee5 the animovies should cover most of what id want to say in one!

after the answer, ill finally be able to finish eternalpun. im so sorry ive neglected you guys, my friends...my pee2s....

kimi wo i will never leave you <3

[tazwren]

My two cents on the devolution of fandom spaces...

As a former mod of a fandom space and a woman of colour, I do not feel safe.

Seeing what has been done to so many in this fandom, by a particular group of white American women, in the name of moral policing is both abhorrent and demoralising. As it also is to repeatedly see the same narrative being shoved at everyone as the gospel truth.

A narrative that very conveniently either becomes about fic or has nothing to do with fic, depending on how people want to swing things. A narrative that will accuse a person of Jewish heritage of anti-Semitism, a person of colour of racism, a practising Muslim of being an Islamaphobe. A narrative that will define for you and me and all of us comprising this myriad of multitudes in the world what generational or personal trauma includes and what induces the same.

Those of you who know me, know what I’ve been dealing with the past few days & why I haven’t spoken up before now. Before I logged out a couple days ago, I saw what looked like more of the usual nonsense by the same group of people I’ve kept my distance from once their true colours were revealed. What I didn’t expect is that they would think themselves so above the norms of human decency and accountability that they would go after not one but two women of colour this time around in their rabidity. And many others who spoke up, as it turns out.

It hurts to see what these women, that I know of, have had to endure and to see the passivity of the community, save for a few voices, in sitting back and letting the circus rampage through town. It hurt when I was at the receiving end of it and it hurts now.

Why? Because it shows me a microcosm of the world that I don’t really relate to, that makes no sense to me with the values I was brought up with, and which reduces basic human decency to a commodity to be trampled upon and for you to be seen as weak for having. Because people who willingly laud you for your art / writing / wit, meet you with effusive claims of love and affection and friendship, who have no qualms in taking your help when it suits them, will throw you under the bus and let the wolves ravage you when it doesn't.

Before I get into that, let me talk a little bit about what has transpired over the past few days to a week, and what has been systemically taking place over perhaps the past year in this fandom.

One thing is that everyone who makes a statement about anything suddenly has people in their mentions demanding they show what gives them the right to hold that particular opinion. A critical thing people forget about fandom is that it is a place where people hide their identity for a variety of reasons, all valid, and this approach to fiction and conversations where everyone has to reveal every part of their past and identity as a means of establishing their "credentials" in order to present their views comes in direct contradiction with how fandoms operate. It violates people's rights to privacy.

The other is that there has been an increase in the voices that purportedly stand up to “speak for” the marginalised, the abused, those discriminated against and those who belong to minorities who “need to be protected / kept safe”. An admirable sentiment, to be sure. If it weren’t for the fact that none of these groups of people needed saving, speaking for or the protection of this particular group of voices.

Voices who only want to define and use these people as "model victims" to hurt other white women and establish their supremacy over both them and other POC. Voices that will present their "truth" as they see fit and sans context or present you with screenshots of snippets of conversations held in supposedly secure spaces that they have no qualms in violating in the interest of the "greater good" and claim offense / silencing if the misdemeanour is pointed out or action is taken against them, Voices that will conveniently categorize you as a "token POC" or "white adjacent" when you do not support or align with their narrative. Voices that belong to a predominantly white American group of women, whose real agenda, as is evidenced by their modus operandi, has nothing to do with real altruism or a drive for justice or indeed to right wrongs.

No, their agenda is purely power.

To hold sway over groups of followers, to shepherd them as though they are sheep who cannot think for themselves, and to set themselves up as white saviours who call out those who step out of line, or are deemed to be problematic and toxic and unsafe. To be the owners of the only "safe spaces" in fandom and to drive other groups and spaces to be boycotted or worse.

Now, I've long wondered, who indeed are these women to decide that for anyone? In a world comprising multiple cultures, religions, groups, subgroups, genders and which contains multitudes, who are these women and what gives them the right to foist their puritanical standards on everyone, very conveniently disguised as concern for the moral well being of everyone and the consumption, of all things, of fiction?

Certainly, there are many things in this world that people regard with justifiably equal dislike / horror / sadness. At the same time, there is much that is not shared, that is particular to a culture and to a person’s background. There is a multitude of perspectives that make the whole. And the white women of the United States of America have not cornered the market on what those are, or indeed even own any curatorship or censorship of the same. They cannot, because each person’s culture and background and joy and trauma is their own, as are their ways of dealing with it all.

That being said, let’s talk about their pack behaviour and the devolution I’ve witnessed on social media as basic human decency is bartered for clout.

I’m all for standing up for someone who doesn’t have a voice or a platform, or maybe afraid of repercussions to voice dissent. I’m all for being there for our fellow human beings as they face struggles of often unconscionable and unfathomable proportions. I’m all for holding people accountable for their negative behaviours as they impact the larger community.

What I am unequivocally NOT for is treating such situations as an opportunity to preach, to virtue-signal, to shame and to put on blast the alleged wrong-doers. I say alleged because that’s what most accusations are on these platforms—allegations to do with things that disturb our sense of balance or make us wrinkle our noses or that we deem bad, and therefore make the accused deserving of the full force of the community’s misbehaviour and censure.

I ask you if you were found guilty of a crime in real life—you know, the one away from your phones and keyboards—would you not have an opportunity to retain a lawyer, to plead your case in a court of law, to acquit yourself? Or, if found guilty, would you not have the opportunity for correction and rehabilitation? Yes, you say? (If you say no, then that explains the spate of state-perpetuated injustices across the USA, but that is a different matter).

Why then are people treated so abhorrently in this court of public opinion? What gives you, me, any one of us the right to judge people so vilely and with a metaphorical gun to their heads? What gives anyone the right to say you better agree with everything I say, retract everything you said and grovel for it or we will eviscerate you in public, shame you, force you to change or delete the content that offends us and still ostracise you and in some cases even threaten you with bodily harm or death, or doxx you?

Why is there no grace in how people are approached or dealt with? Whatever happened to allowing people to learn from their mistakes, where applicable, or hearing them out and giving them a chance to explain their side of something we may not fully understand?

Why is there no accountability for such behaviour on the part of the accusers?

What makes the rest of you sit back and allow this to happen? What makes you think this is in any shape or form okay to watch? Today, it is a virtual stranger at the receiving end, one you can distance yourself from quite conveniently saying Oh, she just mods a group I am in, or I only read their fics a couple times or I only followed them for their art or jokes or whatever flavour of excuse you choose. Tomorrow, it will be one of your own - or it may very well be you. And you'd better hope there's someone left to speak up for you.

The irony is you will have allowed it to happen by letting the wolf in the fold. By letting these white women manipulate you, and the community you claim to be a part of, so unapologetically, so maliciously and so unashamedly that before you can do anything about it the cancer has taken hold.

If this was happening in the world outside of social media, they would have to follow due process, to present real evidence based on facts (not based on emotions, rumours or perceptions) and would have to allow the person they are accusing to present a counter-argument, to defend themselves or be defended. Failure to do so is a miscarriage of justice and, depending on whether this is a professional or legal proceeding, they would either seriously risk their jobs or have the case thrown out of court. If not face action themselves for attempting to derail the process of justice.

Why then are they permitted to range so freely through the landscape of fandom, snarling and biting at who they please, or who displeases them?

I have no shame in saying I was at the receiving end of their behaviour for defending a friend they put on blast and I will tell you right here and now, I am a woman of colour who feels unsafe and attacked by these so-called self-appointed white saviours of your social media experience, these so-called upholders of the common morality—whatever that means—who will fight for you the evils of problematic and toxic writers who dare to have an opinion not aligned with theirs and who do not bow to their clout. Not that they care, so long as they can ignore this fact since it doesn’t fit their narrative. So long as they can ignore what has just been done to so many people in the name of cleansing the fandom.

If any one of these women were truly interested in alleviating the troubles and pains of the discriminated, the marginalized, the trauma-affected, I invite them to please come roll their sleeves up and help in the multitudes of troubles that wrack this world, not just in the backyards of their minds. My country is amidst a struggle for the basics of human life in this horrific pandemic and, prior to that, for basic constitutional rights for religious minorities. Do not patronize me and lecture me on trauma and racism and discrimination. Do not marginalise me in your attempt to pontificate and set your pearl-clutching puritanical selves above the rest, or assuage your white guilt.

A largely American audience or fanbase in this fandom is purely a function of access and interest—other cultures have vast followings for things you couldn't begin to fathom—and it doesn't mean you are entitled in any shape or form to be spokespeople for the rest of the world. We have no interest in being colonized again by white oppressors.

If you disagree with what I have said, I congratulate you on being a part of their coterie and wish you much joy in being the sheep in their fold. Kindly unfollow or block me on the way off of this post.

[ghcstvalleychief]

“This is what MA want” “Stop fighting!” “Respect their wishes!” I do not understand this fandom. I do not.

Mile is a new actor. Apo was gone for a while. This is the peak, the rising fame. It’s quite literally the time to have the spotlight? Roles? Etc, etc, etc. Also…in any industry…it’s very hard to say no to someone in charge and as everyone has said, MA seem to be selfless and great so I am not surprised MA “agreed” to having decreased screen-time. (My question is. To be honest: was it agreement? We might never know but if people can say this is their wishes, how do they honestly know that this is their wish?) It feels absolutely fair to point out the implications, manipulation,,,etc. on the other side of it. The way people do not even considered the implications of any of it lol. Because it IS there.

I don’t know if I am wording this articulative enough but my overall point as everyone has said, it doesn’t make sense. None of it does. This is their time and just..tbh..it’s absolutely fair of MA fans to point out the disparity; the implications; and to question the decisions. If people can say “respect” their decision then it’s certainly fair to question the implications (with BOC…Pond….etc.)

This fandom lacks a backbone if you ask me. Sorry not sorry for saying it.

I've been in a number of fandoms where Black American actresses have experienced some of the worse racism and bigotry in the world at the hands of both the fandom and the executive producers of said shows. You know what the fans of those Black women did once we realized they couldn't speak out due to contracts and other legal bullshit? We went to war for those women. We trended, we spoke out, and we made our voices be heard because we knew they couldn't. They heard us and they appreciated their fans for doing what they couldn't. We even forced the TPTB to do things they weren't previously before because we made such a fuss on social media. Things weren't magically fixed but it did change some things.

Contrary to popular belief, saying no to your boss could land you in hot water. It shouldn't but it's a very harsh reality of the real world. It's why Candice Patton waited until The Flash has all but ended to finally speak out about the racism she experienced while being Iris West Allen. Black American actresses would get blackballed and blacklisted if they dared to say anything and their fans understood that, so we did it for them because we knew we had the power to make or break these shows.

This fandom is too young, too immature, and too naive to do something like that though. More mature MA fans are trying their best but the rest of the fandom is too unaware of the effects of silence. Nothing changes if you don't complain. You have to make some noise and speak up if you want something to change. Staying silent does nothing. Sure, Mile and Apo could be fine with this. Maybe. It's like you said - how do we know? It's the job of the fans to right that wrong because the actors most likely can't. You have no power when there's contracts involved, and that's true everywhere. Even in places that proclaim to be so progressive and forward thinking. Actors have less power than you think. Especially actors who are just starting their careers and who have no real connections in the industry yet. Which is true for both of them, despite the fallacy that they have more clout and power than they truly do. They don't have the power to disagree with something and not be blacklisted for it. Not yet.

[cto10121]

Does R&J Play With Gender Stereotypes?

So I came across this piece of meta by @hamliet that rather intrigued me:

There’s also another layer here: the imagery Romeo uses for Juliet (the sun) and that Juliet uses for Romeo (the moon) is the inverse of how imagery was typically presented in those days. The moon was feminine; the sun, masculine. Even if we look at Romeo and Juliet’s respective character traits, Romeo is the flighty, impulsive, love-struck one who cries all the time, while Juliet is the decisive, bold, and loyal one. That’s the first thing Juliet declares to Romeo in the balcony scene: that she will always be loyal, and she shows this in every choice she makes in the story.

Let’s break this down.

“the imagery Romeo uses for Juliet (the sun) and that Juliet uses for Romeo (the moon) is the inverse of how imagery was typically presented in those days. The moon was feminine; the sun, masculine.”

Romeo does indeed call Juliet the sun, but Juliet never calls Romeo the moon—or likens him with anything symbolically feminine, come to think of it. The closest she or the play gets is a small but clear association with night: Romeo has “night’s cloak to hide me from their eyes” and Juliet implores “loving, black-browed” night to give her her Romeo. Even then it is so that he can “make the face of heaven so fine / That all the world will be in love with night / And pay no worship to the garish sun.”

Instead, Juliet consistently uses the same love language of authority as Romeo does with her, calling him her lord, husband, knight, “day-in-night,” “mansion of a love,” “god of my idolatry,” and, (my particular favorite), “tassel-gentle” or “falcon.” “Pilgrim” is the lowest social rank she uses, but of course she is following Romeo’s pilgrim-and-saints flirtation and its wink-wink bilingual allusion to his name. Romeo’s use of “sun,” then, could be viewed in the context of both lovers conferring cosmic/earthly authority, beauty, ownership, and sovereignty to each other—the Elizabethan equivalent of calling each other wife/husband. And of course they begin doing that immediately after they marry.

Even if we look at Romeo and Juliet’s respective character traits, Romeo is the flighty, impulsive, love-struck one who cries all the time, while Juliet is the decisive, bold, and loyal one.

Definitely not. Romeo is plenty decisive and bold—making the first move in wooing Juliet, climbing the orchard wall, showing himself to Juliet, immediately agreeing to marry her, nearly killing himself when he thinks Juliet might not take him back and, er, actually killing himself for her. I wouldn’t say he is impulsive, either—though he makes decisions fairly quickly, it is almost always with some deliberation beforehand (“Can I go forward when my heart is here?” “Shall I hear more or shall I speak at this?” and his monologue after Mercutio’s exit) and of course there are instances in which he restrains himself (“I am too bold” and his monologue after Mercutio’s death). The most accurate description of Romeo is that he is a risk taker—at least when he is well and truly motivated. And even then it does not rob his deliberation or even his wits.

He is also not flighty. In fact, he proves just as loyal as Juliet—as soon as he meets her, he forgets about Rosaline and leaves her clear behind. He doesn’t once waver in his conviction that Juliet is for him and makes plans to die with her (and does!). His love for Rosaline is clearly framed by the narrative as shallow, performative, and passive, and the verse bears this out. He was never in any kind of relationship with Rosaline—his love was an unrequited crush that he was at perfectly liberty to have ditched, frankly. After that, it’s Juliet, Juliet, Juliet until he dies.

Also, once more, Romeo is no crybaby. He explicitly cries a total of two times—one even before the events of the play, when he pines over Rosaline under a grove of sycamore, and another when he’s 1) seen Mercutio get mortally wounded, 2) killed Tybalt, 3) learned that he is banished from the city, and 4) mistakenly believed that Juliet no longer wants him (the Nurse’s reply is vague enough to be misinterpreted); at the very least he is devastated to have been the cause of her pain. Anyone would break down in those circumstances. Juliet herself breaks down on hearing the news and arguably is more verbally vehement than Romeo—namely, that even the words “Romeo is banishèd” are worse than if herself, Romeo, her parents, and Tybalt were dead. She ends that monologue with a passive suicide threat: “And Death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!” How anyone can argue Juliet isn’t as lovestruck as Romeo is beyond me.

What Shakespeare was most likely aiming for was showing the mutuality of R&J’s love with parallel scenes and even language. Both have chances to act strong, decisive, and bold, both show vulnerability and great emotion and passion, both are lovestruck. Both demonstrate so-called “masculine” and “feminine” traits, which is almost always culturally-and time-based, anyway. There are only a few key differences between the two—almost all of the above traits, however, they both share. It’s almost as if…Shakespeare understood that no man or woman had all masculine or all feminine traits.

Moving on to the conclusion:

In other words, Shakespeare was deliberately playing with gender and its stereotypes in the play, which gains an even more interesting layer to it when you consider that Shakespeare was himself almost certainly bisexual (his sonnets are preeeetty explicit). It’s not a patriarchal narrative; it can well be seen as a queer narrative in a patriarchal society. And it shouldn’t take two kids having to kill themselves to get society to realize how effed up it is. It isn’t an out-of-touch play, but instead one extremely relevant to our society 500+ years later. 

In other words, Shakespeare was deliberately playing with gender and its stereotypes in the play, which gains an even more interesting layer to it when you consider that Shakespeare was himself almost certainly bisexual (his sonnets are preeeetty explicit).

You just opened up 200+ years of fandom wank, OP. I’ll just do a quick sum-up.

The Sonnets are a complete mess. They are contradictory as hell, there is clearly more than one persona speaking, there is evidence that Shakespeare edited and revised them, evidence they were published with his permission, quite a few sonnets are based on pre-existing sources, and, most damnably of all, none of the most likely candidates for the so-called Fair Youth and Dark Lady fit the narrative of the Sonnets perfectly or even satisfactorily—if there is even a clear narrative to these things to begin with. Sonnets were artificial works whose clichés and conventions were heavily satirized in Shakespeare’s own works—Berowne’s own rant-y sonnet swearing he would never believe in love sonnets comes most readily to mind. They were usually not meant to denote an actual real-life relationship, although there was a kind of “game” in trying to figure out which parts are true and which ones fiction. At least one sonnet sequence had a completely fictional addressee (Fulke Greville, I think).

Shakespeare’s sonnets do break a lot of these rules and conventions, and radically, and as they seem to have been compiled over many years, they lend themselves to autobiographical speculation. But, as a bit of a poet myself, I feel this: No one writes 154 sonnets—plus a whole narrative poem!—to one lover or even multiple lovers. Poetry is much less personal than laypeople think. Outside the sonnets, Shakespeare is not linked to any man romantically, and, besides his wife, only to two women (unnamed citizen’s wife and Jane Devanant).

Even if we assume Shakespeare’s bi, though, that doesn’t mean R&J is a queer narrative, which brings us to…

It’s not a patriarchal narrative; it can well be seen as a queer narrative in a patriarchal society.

A queer narrative that has its lovers express their love through the language of heterosexual marriage (husband, lord, wife, lady, pilgrim/saint), and commit suicide by a chalice-and-blade symbolism that mimics heterosexual sex (Romeo drinking a “cup” of poison and Juliet stabbing herself with Romeo’s dagger. Freud couldn’t have done it better). If Shakespeare was thinking “gay allegory!!!” he would have had to at least change or erase the symbolism (straight coding?) of the double suicide, or have Juliet attribute to Romeo explicitly feminine imagery. He would have to have done some major plot rejiggering. He would have had to, in short, change the whole story.

(Unless by “queer narrative” you mean “anything that has an emotionally constipated male lead who doesn’t growl sexily and a female lead who doesn’t cry/faint at the drop of a hat.” That’d be most every narrative, lol.)

Also, I’m hard-pressed to think of love romances that are 100% patriarchal narratives, and those that do (Casablanca, maybe?) are not really true ones, anyway. Patriarchy inherently opposes all romances of love and sex, including heterosexual. It demands that men be raised as soldiers to kill enemies, slaughtered, and discarded, and women as chattel and land to be bought and sold. Marriage was that transferral of property. Having children is necessary, not out of love and care for them, but to propagate the species and create even more future warriors and womb incubators. It grudgingly accepts only (mostly straight and like maybe 1 or 2 gay) love narratives that can be subsumed into this narrow paradigm, but the tension of interpretation is always present. Ideally, it prefers to ignore, diminish, scorn and mock, or even suppress them. I suspect most people’s problems and discomfort with R&J stem from this pathology, this deep-seated unease over anything that touches on human experience patriarchy can’t quite control or subsume.

Shakespeare was obviously no lover of patriarchy (in his personal life, though…well, it’s debatable). His plays resist it greatly to various degrees, and R&J is no exception. R&J hews much closer to the reality of heterosexual love and love in general, which are informed by, though are not inherently tied to, patriarchy (as are gay relationships, sadly). Shakespeare is just being a good writer in throwing most of that rotten apple away; it doesn’t apply to what he was trying to do, anyway. R&J’s challenge to patriarchy, though, is heterosexual in nature.

And it shouldn’t take two kids having to kill themselves to get society to realize how effed up it is. It isn’t an out-of-touch play, but instead one extremely relevant to our society 500+ years later. 

True dat.

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

can you give me drowsy headcanons, ramble, or anything please, i am so deprived. do not be afraid to make it super long, the more the better, i just love drowsy chaperone and love to hear other people (plus you’re one of the only people i’ve seen who knows a lot abt it)

ASK AND YE SHALL RECIEVE

I’ll divide this into a few different parts, going from least to most excruciatingly sad :)

1. general headcanons

2. in canon things i noticed and think about daily

3. a full analysis of man in chair’s connections with the drowsy chaperone as an in universe show (trigger warning for abuse ment, alcoholism ment, suicide ment)

SECTION ONE: HEADCANONS

- okay the chaperone is trans I don’t make the rules

- also her name is ambrosia :) she forsook her last name :)

- she’s about 12 years older than janet and kinda hung with janet’s family after leaving her own for a while . essentially she’s a big sister to janet

- aldolpho has some lines where he asks if the bride is big and/or burly and while in canon this is supposed to show he’s kind of a womanizer I like to believe it’s because he was fully prepared to fight her if needed

- speaking of which Of Course janet is ripped she does gymnastics

- my batshit crazy headcanon for this show is that dee dee allen from the prom is a descendant of roman bartelli no I will not elaborate

- is aldolpho one of those bitches with pets that definitely shouldn’t be legal? yessir

- post show kitty becomes a star okay I just want her to be happy

- the “pastry chefs” do discover a love of baking post show and now run a shop along with performing in feldzeig’s follies which might maybe be a front for some crime too

- TRIX DROWSY AND ALDOLPHO WORLD TRAVELING POLYCULE CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE

- underling’s name is james I will not elaborate on this either

- show never says what trix does so I’ve decided she’s an explorer. she charts maps and punches colonialists and drags her stupid friends along with her, the only bitch in the show with a braincell

- drowsy was a former vaudeville child star pre transition - she left the business but was a mentor to janet

- I do have a headcanon for mic’s name but in the spirit of every actor who’s ever played him I won’t fucking tell

SECTION TWO: SHIT I NOTICED

- robert refers to himself by full name a lot of the time which is v interesting given he’s named after the writer, bob martin (whose wife is also named janet van de graaf). the real bob martin is like five feet away at all times playing mic

- idk how to describe it but the dynamic kitty and feldzeig (VICTOR felgzeig. we have a name from one (1) line) have when talking to each other is so snappy and funny and good

- aldolpho’s lines in spanish are mostly romantic bullshit but his first one hints that he has/had a wife who, if we’re taking the translation literally, refused to touch him. yeah I’ll bring this up in analysis

- the “pastry chefs” provide liquor for the wedding even though it has absolutely no relevance to their mission of stopping it :)

- drowsy is like. SUPER endearing towards janet and despite her bad social skills it’s super clear she cares a lot about her

- robert speaks fluent french apparently

- everyone says “ew” after aldolpho reveals his affair with drowsy despite her being a certified milf

- the body language of drowsy in the end of the show where she takes mic’s hands and breaks the barrier between reality and fiction is just so good. she was iconic the whole show but I honestly think this final bit is what won beth leavel the Tony in the end

SECTION THREE: OH NO

before diving into the way the drowsy chaperone affects his character, we need to understand what exactly it’s playing off of. to fully understand mic’s attachment to the drowsy chaperone, we need to outline what led him to isolating himself and living in fiction to the extent that he does.

mic’s father left his family at an early age and his semi estranged alcoholic mother was the one who began his love for theatre. mic grew up in a broken household and eventually moved on to land in a one sided marriage, which lasted a few months until he slipped up and expressed his discomfort with the situation, after which he and his wife split. nowadays, he lives alone in his apartment surrounded by records he uses to escape to a better life - his favorite of which being the one his mother gave him, the drowsy chaperone.

symbolism in the drowsy chaperone regarding mic’s life can be split into two main categories - mommy issues and internalized homophobia. there isn’t nearly as much mom symbolism as there is the latter, so I’ll cover that first.

drowsy covers both bases, but she definitely has some undeniable mom symbolism going on. drowsy marries aldolpho and mom dreams of being swept off her feet by a latin lover, both feel they’ve wasted their chances at love, both drink to forget, etc. this is where the idea of the drowsy chaperone being mic’s ideal way for things to work out, a positive parallel, comes into play. given that we don’t hear too much about mic’s mom other than her connections to major life events and the record itself, we can assume they grew apart in one way or another. the key difference is that drowsy finds a happy relationship for herself and retains her bond with janet, unlike what we’re led to assume mom was like.

further elaborating on the drowsy chaperone representing mic’s ideal fantasy version of events is the wedding the drowsy chaperone’s plot centers around. here’s a list of the things that didn’t stop that damn wedding:

- a minister not showing up

- the groom cheating on the bride with the bride

- the bride having a complete mental breakdown

- indirect mafia interference

- direct mafia interference

on the flip side, what little mic says about his wedding indicates it sucked absolute ass. he spent the entire ceremony in internal distress as he went through with a life changing event he, at that point, knew at least a bit that he didn’t want. I think he also implies he had severe diarrhea on the wedding day? it gets worse when you realize mic’s relationship before the wedding wasn’t any good for him either - he was playing along the whole time because it would be cruel not to, right?

throughout the show, mic is pretty clearly shown as an extremely repressed gay man. there are five specific instances that point at romantic and/or sexual attraction to men directly and another moment outside of his commentary that pretty much confirms it if you look a little bit deeper. thus, here is what I propose - to mic, the drowsy chaperone’s wedding plot represents a world where he was able to ignore that part of himself and have a happy marriage with his wife despite all the overwhelming obstacles thrown at him. however, bits and pieces of that internalized homophobia manage to show themselves throughout the drowsy chaperone anyway despite its happy ending. here’s a rundown on a few significant instances:

- by the end of the show, the “pastry chefs”, who had literally been planning to kill feldzeig, have left their life of crime to perform with him. this symbolizes how in mic’s ideal world he would have been able to turn away from what he perceived at the time as living wrongly - his homosexuality

- at the same time, the “pastry chefs” have this line, spoken in regards to janet: “if she gets married and leaves the show... there ain’t no show.” this is a take on mic’s subconscious concern that he might lose himself if he goes on with his marriage pretending everything is alright - of course, as we already know, he doesn’t listen

- “cold feets” is a pretty obvious instance of mic’s hesitation

- aldolpho’s line in spanish regarding the wife who won’t touch him flips to reflect on mic’s treatment of his own ex wife - she was alien to him as a lover, just as aldolpho was to this woman

- janet recalls her meeting robert at a point in the show and states “we spooned, briefly, then he proposed.” though mic’s relationship pre marriage was much longer than that, it must have felt that way to him - just as quick and nonsensical as janet describes

- just as janet is caught in showbiz but has a toxic love for it, so does mic with his own repressed life

- janet has a line in “show off” that alludes to her experiencing harassment/assault: “I don’t wanna be cheered no more/ praised no more/ grabbed no more/ touched no more/ loved no more” , which I believe represents the way mic perceived his intimacy with his wife - labeled as love yet unenjoyable for him

- “I look into his eyes... I get all woozy. and that’s... love, isn’t it?” is another very clear nod to mic’s misconception of love based off the only thing he’s ever experienced, relationships with women he’s had to fake

- this is the part where I tell you the lyrics to toledo surprise are a metaphor for actively suppressing gay thoughts. I’ll just leave you with “if it tries to rise; don’t let it”. these lyrics are not comprehensive enough to make a dish - trust me, I have tried. it’s also notable that they serve a double entendre as instructions on how to beat the shit out of someone, but several lyrics are also directed towards the singer/audience. for example: “it’s a snap/ try it folks/ whip your whites/ split your yolks” is an easy metaphor for the unhealthy mental gymnastics required to repress oneself so wholeheartedly

it’s also worth noting the obvious just for the sake of it - mic copes with all this by isolating himself in a safe spot where he can use musicals to escape and live his ideal fantasy, even if it’s only for a short time. there are plenty of nods to this throughout the drowsy chaperone as well. in “as we stumble along” drowsy notes that “the best that we can do is hope a bluebird/ will sing a song/ as we stumble along” - to mic, musicals are his bluebird. while mic mostly indulges in these fantasies, he knows to a certain extent the sheer amount of time he’s spending in them is unhealthy. the first line of the show is “I hate theatre” and I think that to an extent? he does. obviously mic loves theatre as a concept, that can’t be denied. what he hates is the way he’s allowed it to confine him.

with all that out of the way, let’s move on to the most important moment of the show. if you’ve ever seen the show, you’ll know exactly which scene I’m talking about immediately. I’m referring to, of course, the infamous “l-ve while you can” scene. as janet stands at the alter she asks drowsy for one final word of advice, which is partially obscured by aldolpho dropping his cane. “l-ve while you can.” it’s a simple moment, but mic reveals to us that he’s been agonizing over it for years - did drowsy say “live” or “leave”? it occurs to everyone eventually, whether a couple days after the show like with me, or years after like with bob martin’s replacement on broadway that the most likely answer is that she had said “love while you can”. it’s this moment, when you realize why mic had never seen that as an option, that the drowsy chaperone’s status as a musical within a comedy within a tragedy is solidified. mic had no love in his life - his parents hated each other and he was forcing himself into relationships in which he felt nothing. to him, living and leaving were options, but loving never was. so he locked himself away.

as the final note on the record is playing, all power in mic’s apartment shuts down and the fantasy is ruined. the superintendent arrives and further invades his space, breaking the private sanctity he had built up for so long. she fixes the power and before mic can stop it from happening, the final note of the record plays. and the super recognizes it as a musical. she makes a remark about how much her wife loves musicals and leaves, completely unaware of what she’s just done.

mic sits in silence for a while. and then he begins to sing. gradually, the cast members begin to echo their songs, dancing around him but never touching him. then drowsy appears and sings harmony to mic. and she takes his hands. the show ends with the entire cast, including mic, taking off on trix’s airplane as the curtain falls, drowsy handing mic his record as the plane takes off.

some people interpret the ending as mic committing suicide, finally deciding between live and leave. I don’t personally believe that and neither does writer and original mic bob martin, but it’s still a valid interpretation. the drowsy chaperone’s ending is ambiguous, yes, but not to that extent. no matter what you believe the ending means, it was brought on not by the interruption of the fantasy, but by whatever realization the super’s remark about her wife triggered. as I see it, there are two main options here.

option one - mic realizes he still has time to live and to love. when he was younger the prospect of living as himself was unthinkable to him, yet now he sees that while he was spending countless years alone the world grew. drowsy offers mic her hand, an invitation to finally become what he had admired in her - someone who isn’t anywhere near perfect, but is damn well trying and living life without regret. he accepts.

option two - mic realizes that while he spent years alone the world moved on without him and he’s isolated himself so much from social interaction that he’d no longer be able to make a meaningful connection with anyone outside. so he stays inside instead, never trying, always trapped between live and leave. drowsy offers mic her hand - at least he’ll have a tune to carry with him.

I really want to believe we got option one. I think option one is the intended, really, given mic ends the show with a joyful goodbye to the audience. but the way that the ending is still left open for interpretation makes it so that we can never really know - we as the audience only get to be privy to a small part of mic’s life, and we don’t get the answers we want because at the end of the day they’re irrelevant to us - all we can do is make our own choice.

[noyashighlight]

The Villianess who lived

Chapter one

“ And for the crimes of trying to harm another noble not only in public but in the vicinity of the royal family I summon you to death Y/n Villarreal.” The executioner’s voice boomed through the crowd of people gather in town square.

The one accused of the Horrendous crime was nothing more than a young girl, but not just any girl the daughter of Duke Villarreal who had just been beheaded this moment in an attempt to save his beloved daughter. Though she was vain and jealous of the baron's daughter for managing to steal her love the first prince, poisoning tea wasn’t her thing. Speaking of her beloved first prince, Tooru Oikawa was the one who sentenced her to this harsh death. He loved Maryanne Barlowe and not y/n, only being engaged to her for political advantage to be the crowned prince. He watched from his seat a daunting smirk on his face, his hatred for the girl ran deep to the point where the announcement of her death made him chuckle.

Next to him stood his best friend and personal knight Hajime Iwaizumi wearing his usual poker face. Though she was annoying with her unexplained love for the one he served and her cruel attitude towards women, the knight didn’t believe she deserved this punishment.

And on his other side sat Maryanne Barlowe the eighth and youngest child of the Baron, known as the sunflower of high society thanks to her friendly attitude she used to social climb. No one saw her as a threat due to her title, but now she would be the future empress. Soon she would reveal her true self as this was all an act for her, from pretending to be nice and weak to poisoning her own drink at a tea party Y/n hosted.

Y/n’s eyes shook with rage, hatred soared. Everything was taken from her, she was an accused villainess whose only real crime was falling for the wrong man who thought of her as a disposable object. “Any last words Lady Villarreal?” Tooru said standing from his seat, making sure he could get a good view of her in her last moments.

“ I hope that in my next life, I’ll be the one to place your head on a stick and parade it around the capital.” She still held her head high as if she wasn’t who just defamed the future self-proclaimed king.

He let out a loud chuckle that would send chills down anyone’s spine, “ Those who have sinned don’t get a next life, I hope the heavens forgive you my dear.” To think the only time he called her my dear was in a sinister setting. He nodded his head as cue for the executioner to do his job, “ May your damned soul find peace in the after life.” He whispered before swinging the sword down.

Her throat felt cold and burned as she shot up in her bed holding her throat letting out a scream of terror. “ My Lady are you okay?” Her personal maid Olivia burst through the double doors of her room. Y/n looked around horrified, she was back in her room. And Olivia was alive and well? This couldn’t be, the maid had died after taking the fall saying she had poured the tea thinking it would save her master.

“ I-I’m fine, how old am I?” It all felt too real to be a dream, was she given a second chance? Or was this the peacefulness of the afterlife being with the ones she loves? “ You’re about to turn 17 in a week, are you sure that you’re okay? You look pale and sweaty my lady.” The maid worried checking her head for fever or any signs of one. She was interrupted when Y/n pulled her down into a hug.

“ I’m fine Liv, I’m just happy to see you that’s all.” The young girl was never this gentle on any subject but that prince. Ah, that bastard who dared to cross her after devoting her life and body to him. She had a year until her death so she hadn’t done anything stupid yet. But to change her fate she had to change the future. “ What’s my schedule for today?” She hummed, if they wanted a villainess she would play the part but for her own benefit.

Olivia looked at y/n like she had lost her mind, “ You’re having tea with the first prince, you had to wait a whole month to get him to agree since he said he was busy.” Ah, that was right Tooru did all he could do to ignore and shun his betrothed. What a cowardly man, she thought getting out of bed.

“ I want to wear a light orange dress today, the more innocent the better. I’ve got a crow to catch.” She smiled to herself as sat in front of her vanity. Her maid was distraught by the sudden change of dress. “ But my lady! You’ve had that revealing aqua dress you were planning to wear since it’s Prince Tooru’s favorite color.” Maybe her mistress had finally lost her mind.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, love was such a blind curse. “ Throw it out, and anything else that color it makes me was to puke. Now pick me out something simple for breakfast so I can have breakfast with father. The maid nodded and quickly got her ready.

“ Father!” Y/n hugged the stern Duke, his face automatically softening. She hadn’t clung to him like this since he told her that he got the king to accept her engagement to Prince Tooru. “well hello to you too sweetheart, what did I do to deserve this?” He was curious, he hadn’t brought her anything over the past few days due to him being gone.

She couldn’t believe that her father was standing before her alive and well. “ Nothing I’m just glad to see you, now let’s have breakfast together before I have to go to the palace. “ she clung to his arm as they walked to the table together, she was going to make sure her father didn’t die in vain this time.

“ And we're finished, you look gorgeous Lady Y/n. No Lady’s beautiful rivals yours, the prince will definitely fall in love with you this time.” Olivia gushed at her handy work, as y/n stared at herself in the mirror astonished at her reflection. “ Olivia I will reward you when I come back home, now I must go I don’t want to be late.” She smiled making her way to her carriage, it didn’t matter if she was late or not because the prince would always arrive an hour late just to show the true distance between them. In this hour of free time she would set her plan into action.

“ Lady Villarreal.” Her knight Wakatoshi Ushijima said, holding out his hand to help her on to the carriage. “ Toshi I told you not to be so formal when no one is around, I get enough of that already.” She giggled at him taking his hand and getting on. Not only was he the best knight of the Duke but also her childhood friend.

“ My apologies lad- y/n, I’m used to you always having one of the noble ladies with you.” Those ladies weren’t here friends only using her for her high status, in the past, she was just too dumb to see but now it was clear as day.

The second she arrived at the palace she told wakatoshi to wait for her, as she wanted her alone time with the prince. Aha if only they knew which prince she was talking about. Y/n was headed to the crow garden, where the second prince Tobio Kageyama would be since it was a garden dedicated to his late mother. Once aprincess from another kingdom before becoming the empress while Tooru’s mother was only a queen. Sadly Tobio’s mother died at a young age, this palace was deadly yet somehow he was still alive. She was taking a real gamble coming here trying to meet him, it could even cost her life but whether she dies now or a year later made no difference.

The garden was filled with orange and black flowers that seemed almost otherworldly, the girl looked like she was a part of the garden with her dress blending into the flowers. No sign of the second prince at all, maybe her plan was going all to waste. The girl crouched down gently touching a flower. Just then she felt a cold sword on her shoulders threatening to cut her neck. “ Your highness prince Tobio has forbidden anyone from picking the flowers. Stand up slowly and turn to state your name.” Y/n gulped as she followed instructions meeting eyes with Shoyo Hinata, the orange-headed prince’s guard. He usually wore a playful smile but when ordered to can become deadly in seconds.

“ Lower your sword, I’m very aware of who she is. Though I have no idea why you’d show your face in this part of the palace.” A low voice ordered from behind Shoyo. prince Tobio finally came into the picture, but he didn’t look too happy.

Y/n bowed after the sudden shock, “ Glory to you your highness, may you prosper.” She spoke humbly, he was almost taken aback that she was bowing in his stead. Yes, she was in a lower position than him, but rumor had it that the duke’s daughter thought of herself as a prince who would only bow below the king and her beloved. “ You may rise, Lady Villarreal, why have you come here?”

He was itching to find out why she was here of all places, was she sent by his brother to kill him? Tobio had never formally met Y/n only the rumors that she was an evil being. There was no evil being that stood before him just a lovely woman who looked innocent. “ I’m sorry that I’ve intruded, I’ve heard about this garden since I was little but was never able to come. Also I heard that you would be here.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, with Knight Hinata still here she couldn’t reveal her true plan yet.

She came here for him? What business did she have him with anyway? Maybe he had done something to offend her, Shoyo often told him that his face was scary and made ladies cry. “ Why would I be interesting enough for the lady to come all the way here just to see me? Does my brother know that you are here?” He and everyone else knew Tooru didn’t love Y/n but if he knew one thing about his brother is that he is possessive. Just knowing that his fiancé came to see him would drive him crazy.

“ Ah I can’t say, your guard is scaring me.” She lied straight through her teeth, Tobio took the bait nodded his head to dismiss his knight. “ Now you may speak freely.” This whole encounter was strange for him and what she was about to say was even stranger.

She took a deep breath, worse comes to worse she would be sent to jail for offending royalty. “ I’m going to cancel the engagement with the first prince.” She looked up to meet his eyes that just went wide with concern and confusion.

“ Why would you do that? And why would you be telling me this as if it mattered to me?” He questioned as his eyes narrowed with suspicion, maybe she wasn’t as weak as he had thought when he saw her.

Y/n smiled as she had just won a prize, he was asking questions which was a good sign. “ Well, it’s clear that Prince Tooru doesn’t love me, and is only with me for ties to the Villarreal Dukedom. Without me lowers his chances of being king, being with Maryanne Barlowe who can’t give him a status raise will be his downfall.”

“ You know speaking of a future king while the current one is still alive is a crime right, yet you refuse to bite your tongue. Go on and continue, I’ll decide by the end of this if you’ll end up in the dungeon or not.” Tobio advised causing her to gulp, she must not falter to his empty threats. 

“ My birthday ball Tooru will bring lady Maryanne instead of escorting me, excuse me but that bastard is going to embarrass me for that woman publicly. I do not wish to stay by his side, I do not wish to love anymore. So please be my escort to my birthday, I will back you and make you king. Just don’t let me die.” Her eyes began to water and gloss over which she didn’t intend to happen, the thought of repeating the past scared her.

Tobio was taken back by the sudden emotions she held, she was shaking like her life was in danger. How was her fiancé being unfaithful going to end in death? His brain swirled with theories and answers but nothing made sense. This offer was too good for him to decline also too risky in the same sense. “ Keep your word that you’re going to cancel the engagement, then I’ll send you a message on what my answer will be.” This was the only acceptable answer he could give fearing this could all be a trap, something in her eyes was crying for him to help. If Tooru did become king he was as good as dead since he had hate for Tobio. With that he left without another word, he couldn’t take in any more information at the moment.

Y/n sat in the indoor garden sipping on her tea, she had been here for two hours, her fiancé was running extra late today not that she minded. It gave her time to practice speaking calmly instead of jumping over the table and brutally murder him for the trauma he had caused from her death. When the door opened Tooru arrived with Hajime, this tea was informal as ever how did y/n of the past look forward to meeting this rude man.

“ Sorry for being late, I had some stuff to take care of. “ he sat down expecting her to whine about how she had waited so long to see him. “ I didn’t mind, I was enjoying being in my own company. I’m starting to prefer spending time with myself instead.” She said calmly not even bothering to look up from her tea.

He smirked at her attitude, he wished she was always like this instead of drooling all over him. “ Your birthday is next week, I’m guessing you’re here to ask me to escort you? I’ll be wearing blue so you have to match me.” He loved toying with her emotions and getting her hopes up, yes he would agree to go but not with her.

Y/n hated the way he was so cocky and sure of himself, “ You don’t have to worry about us matching, I’m not wearing blue at all.” She simply stated finally meeting eyes with him. “ Is this your way of telling me that you want us to wear a different color? How rude you know I love blue.” If she wanted to wear a different color he would comply since it wasn’t his party but usually she agreed with whatever he said.

“ No not us, I will be wearing a different color since you won’t be escorting me.” She dropped the bomb on him even making his knight flinch at her harsh words. Tooru most definitely thought she was playing hard to get now. “ Why wouldn’t I be? I’m your loving fiancé aren't I?” He wore a playful smirk on his face, she was going to cave in if he played the part of a lover.

She chuckled at his ignorance, he just wasn’t getting it was he? “ Prince Tooru we both know you don’t love me, and I’ve decided to stop loving you now. So why don’t we do each other a favor, and stop this? I y/n Villarreal am annulling this engagement.” She stood up from her seat shucking the prince who could only grind his teeth. Lowering herself she got close to his ear, “ Why don’t you ask Maryanne Barlowe to be your betrothed, or you might be better off marrying a commoner.” Y/n stood up straight as she made her way to the door.

Tooru could barely react in time, “ If you leave right now Y/n, I will never take you back no matter how much you or your father beg me.” He stood up quickly making his chair topple over with a slam, their was no way this weak-minded girl changed overnight.

“ Your highness please refer to me as Lady Villarreal in public from now on, I don’t want people to get weird ideas.” She smiled politely before exiting, leaving the prince to flip over the tea table in anger. Though she had escaped from that death doesn’t mean she escaped from death completely.

A/n: it took me awhile to place the characters! Thank you to everyone who submitted stuff, I’m sorry if I didn’t get to use the character you wanted but I’ll be making some headcannons for the ones y’all sent. P.s I don’t hate Oikawa at all but you can’t tell me he doesn’t play his part well lmaooo. See you next time <3

[comrade-meow]

The male-centered progressive left has successfully made woman-hating trendy.

Today, yet another “Karen” video went viral online. This time, it seems a woman flipped off a male driver, one Karlos Dillard, who then followed her home and filmed her as she melted down into hysterics, posting the video online, which included her home address and license plate. Over eight million views later (sure to be more by the time you read this), and Dillard is selling t-shirts based on the incident.

It seems this is a hobby for Dillard, who has posted other similarly antagonistic videos, accusing women of “racism” (despite no evidence of racism) in an attempt turn Karen virality into profit. Other t-shirts for sale on his Instagram profile include one with the words, “Karen… Are you OK?” and another reading, “Keep that same energy, Karen.”

The Karen meme has been misogynist from the getgo, originating from an anonymous male Reddit user, Fuck_You_Karen, who was angry at his ex-wife, named Karen, for taking custody of his children. In 2017, his misogynist rants became a subreddit, r/FuckYouKaren.

Recently, the meaning of “Karen” was said to refer specifically to middle class, middle aged white women who are so entitled they ask to speak to the manager when perturbed, but has since morphed into a specifically racist white woman, who “weaponizes” white, female fragility against largely black men. This connects to sexist tropes that claim women use their emotions, vulnerability, and tears to manipulate men.

What began as a joke has become more than that, and has moved into explicitly misogynist (and, in my opinion, dangerous) territory.

“Becky,” which originated as a means to refer to basic white women — the Uggs-wearing, Starbucks-buying, pumpkin spice-loving kind — probably young, probably blonde, probably not working class. Like “Karen,” I never found this to be particularly offensive, as I had little desire to defend boring people who love Starbucks, but what was once a joke has become something much more egregious.Following someone to their home, doxxing, filming, and harassing them because they gave you the finger is unhinged. People are going to act like assholes in this world, and you need to learn to deal with that. Moreover, these viral videos, like the Amy Cooper/Christian Cooper bird watching/dog-off-the-leash incident, are always decontextualized. No one really knows what happened preceding the video, nor do they know why either party reacted as they did. We all know social media leaves little room for nuance, and far too many people enjoy a rage reaction over asking questions or considering they may not know the full story. The truth is that, today, people’s lives can be destroyed in an instant, via a viral post. And our culture is wielding that power with very little care.

While those participating in the mobs targeting the subjects of these currently popular Karen videos claim some form of racial justice, this is not an accurate representation.

This has little to do with race, and everything to do with a progressive left that has adopted woman-hating as political virtue signalling.

Last week, journalist and editor Jonathan Kay tweeted a “Wanted” poster he’d come across in Toronto, depicting a young, blonde, white woman. The text below her face mocked her as a “Basic Bitch” — privileged, entitled, and unwoke. The image and text presents “Becky” as dangerous — the new enemy. The A.C.A.B. (All Cops Are Bastards) logo on the poster implies it likely was produced and distributed by young anarchist men. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were white men, considering the face of groups (or non-groups, depending on who you ask) like Antifa.

The trend of presenting women as a threat extends beyond Becky and Karen. In recent years, Antifa, anarchists, trans activists, and leftists have targeted feminists who question the impact of gender identity ideology on women’s rights as dangerous — even more so than male predators. Rhetoric that claims “TERFs kill” intentionally erases the fact that it is men who are overwhelmingly responsible for violence against both women and men (including trans-identified males). As a result, reversing this claim to say “Kill TERFs” or to show up at events discussing gender identity with cardboard guillotines with the words “TERFs and SWERFs step right up” written on them has become an acceptable form of “activism.”

This has all happened within a left that has consistently ignored and even defended the misogyny, racism, and violence of prostitution and pornography, painting women who fight the sex trade as “whorephobic” and as causing harm to “sex workers.” Everyone knows who is responsible for the abuse that happens to women in porn and prostitution. We can see it on PornHub or we can read about it in the news. Yet the left consistently fails to hold those men accountable for the harm they cause. No, no. The real problem is women. Terms like “TERF” (which means “trans exclusionary radical feminist,” but, in practice, is used to smear anyone who questions gender identity legislation or ideology) and “SWERF” (which means “sex worker exclusionary radical feminist,” but is used to smear women — even women who have worked in the sex trade — who wish to stop the universal violence and exploitation inherent to prostitution) exist to misrepresent, vilify, and end conversation. One cannot defend a “TERF” or “SWERF” any more than one can defend a “Karen” or “Becky,” unless they would like to be pilloried as unwoke and bigoted themselves.

A few years ago, trans activists and their progressive allies adopted the term “cis” to refer to those whose “gender identity matches their sex.” Putting aside the fact that no one’s “gender identity” matches their sex, as whether or not a person is male or female has nothing to do with whether or not they identify with a list of sexist gender stereotypes, the term “cis” is said to denote “privilege.” This means that a woman who understands she is female is, as per trans ideology, “privileged” over a man who desires to be viewed as a woman or who does not feel connected to masculine stereotypes. This is ridiculous, of course, as women are impacted by sexism on account of being born female, and are vulnerable to male violence regardless of how they identify. Understanding one is female does not make a woman “privileged,” it makes her a sane human being. In other words, “cis” or “cisprivilege” completely erases the reality of sexism and male violence against women. Suddenly, we are to believe women pose a threat to males who identify as transgender. Just as we are now to believe “Becky” and “Karen” are so dangerous they deserve to be hated, harassed, and destroyed. Maybe punched. Maybe worse.

This is, I’m afraid, woman-hating. And it is dangerous. The popularity of the Karen meme has led people to seek out and invent Karens in order to gain followers and profit, as evidenced by Dillard’s racket. And rhetoric that positions feminists as dangerous, harmful “TERFs” has led to the acceptance of open violent threats against women, simply for speaking out in defence of women’s rights and spaces. Karen, Becky, SWERF, and TERF are nothing more than excuses to hate women. And I am tired of people participating and defending this misogyny simply because it is on trend, and because it results in applause from the male centred left.

Yes, women can be assholes. Yes, women can be racist. No, women are not all innocent victims. But this has become about much more than calling out annoying, racist, or entitled behaviour. And, in fact, I think it was always about more than that. Let’s stop this before someone gets (literally) hurt.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Lonely Man (Ghost of Tsushima one-shot, Part 2.)

The first one-shot which leaded to the other one: H E R E

One-shot description: Tsushima had found its peace again - Kotun Khan and his men had left the island, the Mongolian invasion had ended. Yet its remnants were sure to last in your home for a long time.

A/N: The warning from the first one-shot still stands. No matter how hard I will be trying, there will be some cultural mistakes, because I am still an European. But just like before, I will do my best to make it as accurate as it will be in my strenght to write the best continuation to the first part I’ve posted like two weeks ago. 

Word count: 5.5 K

Pairing: Jin Sakai x female reader (He HAS a strong chaotic-bi energy, but he's talking about girls in the hot springs, so... 👀)

Warnings: xx

It was a few weeks since the spring finally started and since the peace had finally stumbled into your homeland again. It was true - after a long winter, the sun rays finally felt like gentle tickling on your skin. The beaming sunlight was warming you up, making you feel relaxed anytime you had the time to sit in the garden. Just like you hoped previously, the garden next to the farmhouse has bloomed beautifully. The trees had bloomed to be colorful - there was a few Sakuras, which were planted as already grown trees, were pink, so it was putting a smile on your face when the smile leaves flought by.

Yet there also were small trees with red leaves that barely reached your waist. You didn't know what kind of trees it was, but it was making the gardens a wonderful place. And the flowers were making you even more wonderstruck as you inspected and sketched every one of them when you had a while to do so.

A lot of people expected that as soon as the Mongolian invasion comes to an end, which came true ever since it was rumored that Kotun Khan's head was exhibited in the Shikamura castle, the geisha households will come to an end with it as the women will move to bigger cities to have bigger money and better clientele. But it soon became apparent that this wasn't the case. It seemed that the geisha ladies decided to live in the household even if the invasion ended and there was no need to gather in one place.

Although it was a big, former farmhouse back in the day, the mistress was planning on expanding it. The girls could travel to meet their clients from the household, but they would finally take in other trainees and appreciates as well, which would surely be amazing. If this plan would work well the geishas on Tsushima island wouldn't have to worry that their craft would end. This way, they could pass their knowledge on. While you were still living at the household, during the ordinary mundane jobs. You were still going for rice and other kinds of food, but at least, now you had a smart cart and a horse. You were still cleaning up the floors, doing the laundry, and cleaning the dishes.

This was your work. This was what you were doing every day, so you weren't even complaining. Yet even if you sometimes didn't even stop during the day, even if you sometimes took a bath at the hot springs and sometimes, you joined the geisha classes to learn new things, the man sometimes still crept to the back of your head.

It was a long time since you've seen him. It could be many weeks, it could be months. The timelapse from his departure was just running by. Ever since the morning Jin had left, you've heard a lot of stories talking about the legendary Ghost. His progress with repressing the Mongols was publically known and heard about.  Your personal favorites stories about the Ghost was the ones talking about him searching for the legendary gear of the old samurai masters, finding bows, and the rumored sets of armors scattered and hidden across the whole island. He still was talking to foxes, following them around to learn all the secrets of Inari.

Yet sometimes, worse news got to your ears. Jin was holding the Mongolian invasion back, almost singlehandedly, yes, but his methods were scary and almost brutal. From the intensity of said stories, it could be heard that Jin was probably falling deeper and deeper into this dark situation around him, which was quite saddening you. But how could you help him? You couldn't just travel through the whole island and tell him to stop.

But when you were thinking about him, you were wondering... Was he thinking about you? Or was it exactly how you thought it will be? Did Jin forget about you as soon as he left the farmhouse on the back of his horse? Yet those were the question you knew you will never have your answers for. Life was just the way it was.

You were a girl who was in the right age to find her a husband, to settle down, and to start a family on her own. Yet it was hard for you to like the boys of your social status ever since you've met Jin. There were nights when the warm breeze reminded you of Jin's touch, there were moments when water or sake reminded you of the man's kiss. Shadows creeping on the curtains and shoji reminded you of his moves. But over time, you knew that you'll forgive Jin. All it was to took was time.

As the spring progressed, there was a young fisherman walking around the house more and more often. First, everyone thought he's just walking around, dreaming about the girls he can never have - but soon enough, you realized that it's not the case. In fact, he was trying to gather the courage to speak a woman of his social status. One morning, he came over to you when you were doing the laundry by the river and introduced himself. It was a nice guy, you had to say. His goal was obvious.

The boy's name was Eiji and his intention with you was to court to you, making you fall in love with him. It was very noticeable he liked you a lot - he was nervous whenever he came around to talk to you. When you tried to joke around, Eiji got shy and he almost didn't know how to respond. Which made you think about Jin even more. When you joked around with Jin, he carefully joked back. And his carefulness wasn't originating from being into you with his whole being - it originated from your social statuses being too different to go at each other with open and offhand jokes just like that.

Yet Eiji was completely clueless at times. You thought it's sweet and slowly, your relationship started to deepen. It was just a natural conclusion that he wanted to get married to you after some time. But... Were you ready for such a big step? Marriage wasn't consisting of engagement of any sorts at the time - it wasn't even legally documented that man had married a woman. All it took was you to move into Eiji's household and to stay there to legitimize your marriage. But there was where the hitch with this whole relationship took the first hitch.

You weren't sure enough to take the next big step. Right at the time, you've been doing pretty well. There was this place you've been the happiest in possibly the longest time. The girls were taking good care of you and you were free to leave whenever you wanted. But... Submitting yourself to a man, bonding with him to create a family.

Or... Was it just your uncertainty about leaving your freedom behind? Couldn't it be something else? When you were refusing Jin's offer, you've told him the following: if you'd meet again sometimes in the future, you'd know that it was the destiny leading you on the same road once again.

Since your family was very keen on honoring the spirits, you've always believed that something like a destiny exists somewhere out there, provided by the almighty universe and spirits watching over you.

Maybe you were hoping that destiny will lead the man back to you, now everything was solved. Jin could be the samurai once again who would soon get married to someone of the same social status, continuing his life for all you could know.

There was no certain and reliable information to trust, regarding Jin Sakai. Some said that he killed lord Shimura. Some were saying Jin didn't kill his uncle, but walked away from the whole Bushido codex since he had violated it so many times. There were people who were saying that Jin Sakai felt so ashamed, that he left for Japan on a small boat, as he got killed by the sea.

His spirit was everywhere, everyone was talking about the man. Yes, he surely turned into the rumored Ghost. A Ghost which followed you on every step and the Ghost, who was ways lingering on the back of your head.

Yet after some time passing by, the marriage seemed like the best solution. The girls had their suspicion about what happened that one night when the samurai asked for your companion, but falling for a man after one night seemed to be dangerous.

Eiji was there for you for long months. The boy brought multiple flowers and small gifts, like new materials to make new clothes out of. He was extremely sweet and noticed the small things you liked, always focusing on them.

After long weeks of the girls talking you down to marry the guy, you agreed to his proposal. But to keep at least some kind of remnants of your freedom and pride, you wanted to have some ceremony. You wanted to have a ceremony in the geisha house, since the mistress was the closest person you had to a family member, just like the other girls.

And everyone seemed to be very excited about this event. It all could be easily explained - this was the first real, happy moment since the Mongolian invasion had ended. It was natural that everyone was going over the top with the preparations. The girls helped you with sewing the nicest shiromuku you could make yourself.

They also managed to get you some top tier fish meat to make food from, and the biggest present was sake brought from a man named Kenji. It was the best sake you had ever tasted.

Yet as all the preparations were coming to an end, another rumor started to go around the place where you lived. A strange man entered the valley where the farmhouse was located - and people were getting a strange feeling from the man.

He was, without a doubt, a ronin. But what was making him strange was his straw hat, the remnants of a group of soldiers, who joined the Khan. But... Why was the person even alive? It was rumored that every Strawhat was killed by Jin Sakai.

Naturally, out of fear and respect, people didn't stop the stranger on his way through the farms and villages. And for a reason, you were worried that somehow, the man will crash your happy day. Which, for a reason, seemed to be a real option.

It was even the biggest thing you were nervous on the morning of the ceremony. The man was on your mind the whole time - when you were dressing up, at the time when the Shinto ceremony was prepared, even throughout the time you were walking through the house, feeling the last remnants of your freedom slipping through your fingers. And that was surely a thing you didn't like. It was just moments from when the ceremony was about to start - soon, someone would come for you to lead you there, as you'd start to conceive Eiji as your rightful husband, living with him until the end of your days, doing everything with him.

Honoring the spirits, taking care of the home, take care of children, cook the food, and... There was so much thing you were about to do on a daily basis. Yet it was like a cycle that would be repeating itself every single day. It was the one thing over and over again which was making you freak out. Until you heard some excitement going around in front of the very house you were waiting in.

Someone was trying to stop someone from talking to you, but the other person seemed to be unstoppable. Soon, the shoji flew open and at the same moment, you sprang up on your feet. A feeling of uneasiness and fear struck you as you looked at the masked ronin standing in front of you while Kohaku was trying to make him leave the room so he wouldn't make you too nervous or distressed before the ceremony.

The man appeared exactly as the rumors described him to look like. Which, on one hand, was the first time you've seen a rumor coming true for the first time. He, indeed, was wearing a straw hat covering his whole face and a worn-out yukata along with airy, comfortable trousers. For a reason, his inner palm was resting on one of his swords as he turned his face at you. A thought flew over your head.

Was this person here to kill you? Could someone hear about your connection to Jin Sakai? Could he be looking for revenge? If that was so, which was highly doubtable, the person was surely seeking revenge at a bad place. Jin didn't care for you ever since he left your settlement. The man won't likely even know that you would be killed. Which, in fact, was very sad... But true. Yet instead of that, the man just fell down on his knee, showing you his humility and respect. With scared expression, you looked back at Kohaku standing outside, wanting to oust the man out.

"I just wish to speak to you, lady." - The man barely spoke out, having you nervously spinning your fingers around as you didn't know what to do. Well, if he'd like to kill you, you'd be already dead, right? He had quite some time, about a minute, to slice your throat or to murder you in any other way. So, there was a possibility that he maybe doesn't want you dead. After a minute, you nodded at Kohaku, closing shoji to have at least a hint of intimacy.

"If you wish to speak of Jin Sakai, I don't know where he is or what is he doing now. I don't know any other reason why would you visit me on the day of my wedding." - Was all you told him as you lounged around the room to take a sip of water to hide the nervousness that was hugging your whole brain. But the man was still on his knees, having his head lowered in front of you to prove to you, how vulnerable he was. And, in that moment, you heard the words which you were thinking so much about.

"You promised that if we'd ever meet again, you will admit that this was all destiny's doing." - The man spoke out a bit cleared than before. With these words, you turned back at him. Your heart almost jumped right into your neck when you realized what he was indicating with the statement. Hoping it's him under the hat, you walked in front of the man, unmasking him with shaky hands. As soon as you saw the black hair, your fingers wanted to do only one thing - to dip into it, to caress it, and to tug on it, just as you did before. - "I'm just staying true to my word, Y/N." - Jin whispered and put your palm on his cheek to feel the caress of your skin again. He was still beautiful as if he hadn't aged a day since the day you've seen him for the last time. The only change from the man you've seen such a long time ago was that this Jin had a scar on the left side of his face, yet in your eyes, he still was almost breathtaking.

With a happy sigh, you got on your knees as well, putting even your other palm on his cheek. A smile lightened up your face as you absorbed every small part of his face with your eyes and your fingers - just moments before he kissed you. On his journey, ever since he left your farmhouse, he was honoring every shrine he had met, hoping he'll meet you at the end of his journey. And there he was, after a long time of traveling the mainland in the shadows, hidden from the eyes of his own people. Yet nothing seemed to change in the way you embraced him or the feeling your kiss had woken inside of him.

"I was... I was worried that you had died, Jin. I was horrified." - A mumble left your mouth when the kiss had ended. Jin, until that moment, didn't notice you were crying the whole time he was stealing the kiss from your lips.

"It's very complicated, my dearest." - He answered, slowly leading his palms on the beautiful clothing you were dressed in. It was special to see normal people evoke a Shinto ceremony. Usually, the wife you moved in with the husband, starting a family. Yet the dress was suiting you - making you look innocent, even if the man had to smirk when he realized he already stole your innocence. At that moment, Kohaku stormed into the room again - yet when she realized who was the man leading his palms over your body, she bowed with the deepest meekness. - "Lord Sakai." - Was the only thing she got out. Jin didn't answer, yet he got on his feet and stopped the lady from bowing even lower.

"I am no lord now, lady Kohaku. You must've heard of it by now." - He smiled shyly, stepping away from Kohaku once again. With deep sadness, your mistress nodded, sighing. - "I did hear about what happened, yes. But apart from your uncle and the shogun, you were the only one who fought for the ordinary people, so in my eyes, you will forever be the lord I know you as." - Kohaku explained simply, backing to the door again. - "I will tell the others about your presence, my lord, to make them understand why the ceremony will be delayed." - Kohaku addressed and left you both in the empty house.

There was something else she was saying with her words. She won't only tell them that the ceremony will be late - she was about to tell Eiji, that no wedding will happen that day. Women were very sensitive to picking up the words and signals that weren't said out loud. And the day Jin left the house on his horse, she immediately picked up what happened the other night, although the never spoke of the issue out loud. Why should she? It was a private matter. You, without realizing, never were the same once lord Sakai left the farmhouse.

"If it's complicated, sit down with me and tell me what happened to you, please," - You asked and invited him to another room, which had opened shoji leading right to the garden, so you both had a nice view. Without asking, you poured the man some sake to make him more relaxed, even if your presence was already doing enough. You checked your privacy three times to know it was safe when you walked behind the man to massage his shoulder, bringing the yukata off his shoulders enough for you to plant a kiss on the nape of his neck.

Jin slowly started opening up, starting exactly on the day he had left you on the farmhouse. He spoke of his friends, Yuna and Taka, of the sensei Ishikawa and even told you rather intimate information about lady Masako, the only survivor of clan Adachi. He spoke of the fight against the Mongols... Until the first beats of his uncle being disappointed in him started to hint on how the story will end. At that moment, his back was leaned into your chest as you held your arms entwined on his chest.

"It was obvious that nothing will be as it was before, I could feel it. His gazes, words, and behavior started to shift heavily. It was breaking my heart apart, yet at that moment, I couldn't take anything back. It was all done, I've already stepped from the journey of honor to save what was remaining after the Mongols stormed through my homeland." - Jin sighed, putting his palm over your forearm to smooth it without paying attention to it. - "Shogun marked me as a traitor and sent my uncle... My own family and blood... He sent my father to kill me as a punishment for both of us."

"While you're sitting here with me now and he isn't, did you kill him, Jin?" - You whispered, gently pushing your fingers under the yukata on his chest, putting the center of your palm on his heart to feel it beating. Yet the man shook his head, watching the sakura in front of you. - "No. While I may have no honor, I wouldn't ever kill my own family. I left him there because I couldn't do it. Yet now I have no family, no honor, and no-one else left. I am a wayfaring ronin on his way to... Somewhere."

This wasn't true and he knew it. He still had Yuna to accompany him. - "You have me." - You whispered after a small while. - "I promised that if our paths ever cross again, I'll admit that this was all evoked by destiny. And here you are." - Your arms around his body tightened. Jin smiled at those words, holding your forearm tightly than before. - "You have a life here, Y/N. I have no right to take it away from you. I came late." - Jin squeezed your arm one more time before sitting up to look you in the eyes. His lips gave you a saddened smile as he rose his palm to smooth your jaw.

"What are you going to do now, Jin? Where are you going?" - You asked, catching his palm in yours as you pressed a peck into the small valley on his palm. - "Well, now I visited you, I will most likely hide somewhere in the mountains to wait for another chance to protect my country, leading a lonely life aside from everyone." - Jin described openly to which you stood up, taking the upper layer of the dress off, standing in front of him in a black yukata and pants similar to his. - "Stop, this is not what you want." - Jin tried to plead you, catching your palms in his.

"I always dreamed of a small house aside from everyone and a peaceful, quiet life. I wanted to marry this man because you weren't coming and I was horrified you might never come." - You answered before kissing Jin to shut him up for a moment. - "Go for your horse, I will wait at the other end of the garden." - Was the last thing you've told him before you left.

The man did exactly what you wanted him to do - he, again, put his straw hat on to cover hid identity, walking out of the house where Kohaku was already waiting for him. - "Lady Y/N is very distraught, please, let her take a moment before starting the ceremony." - Jin bowed to the lady and she repeated his actions, pushing some food she packed for both of you while she told everyone that you had some oppressing matter to attend to.

"Take good care of my girl, lord Sakai. Keep her safe and happy, may the spirits look after both of your souls." - She smiled before turning on heels, walking into the house you were at just minutes ago. And she found exactly what she thought she'll find - the upper part of your wedding dress was laying on the ground next to a half-drank sake. And in the distance, she heard a horse riding off, presumably with both of you on its back.

Presumably, it was Jin's choice to come back for you, yet he'd never meet you if there wasn't for destiny. Your choice of complying with it was one of the best you've made. Life in the mountains granted you both with a great deal of privacy, so you could bond deeper, getting to know each other more close. So close you had started a family after some time, which was the best thing that ever happened to Jin.

Clan Sakai had its successors. He had children of his own to which he could pass his knowledge, knowing that when he leaves the Earth one day, the destiny of the Sakai family will be secured.

Sometime later:

The coffee shop was literally brewing with life. You adored having a shift on days like these - the sun was shining, so people were in a good mood, they were snickering, giggling at laughing and most and foremost, they left you some good, generous tips. Every buck could help you pay off the college loan you were currently fighting with. Sure, having a degree sounded nice, but it was actually expansive to study it when you had no-one to help you with it. And no-one would tell you this beforehand.

With a small smile, you leaned your elbows to the wooden desk behind you, as you started to play with your small notebook and pen, which you used to write down the orders of your customers. That day, you had quite a lot of people coming in to have your delicious sundae with hot raspberries and strawberries. Your workplace sure as hell wasn't the biggest in the town, but you liked it a lot. It had a nice, family-like atmosphere and most of the workers were nice people to work with, which was the reason why you didn't have even the smallest problem with coming to work.

On the other hand, a man was running late on his family lunch. But the craving for a cup of coffee was stronger than he was, so when he spotted the first coffee shop next to the road, he stopped there, leaving his sister in the car. - "Jin! Come on! Uncle is going to kill us" - She cried out of him and it almost seemed that Jin was really coming back to the vehicle - just to get his wallet from there.

This man was unbelievable - dressed up in his leather jacket and with a man bun, he was looking quite ridiculous in the eyes of his older sister. - "Wanna something too?" - Jin leaned his elbows to the opened window on his side of the car, having his sis rolling her eyes monumentally at it. - "Then watch the car and don't drive away with it, yea?" - The man patted the hood before running inside the coffee shop. As soon as he spotted a waitress standing by the countertop, he headed straight to her, not looking at her in the first moments.

"Hey, hey." - He got out with heavy breathing. - "Do you make take away coffee? Please, tell me you're making take away coffee." - A man spoke at you, barely looking at you, seemingly being in a time press. Your eyebrows arched at the question. You hadn't got someone like that every day if you had to be honest.

"Sure, I can make you a cup of our take away coffee, if you want to call it like that. Chill out, are you fine?" - You asked the man with worried, watching him being dressed up in a leather jacket on a day like this one was. It was too hot to have such clothes on. But in the between, you moved behind the cash register to have access to the coffee brewing machines. - "Yea, I was just without caffeine for too long and I'm... Really... Craving... One."

At this moment, the man noticed you for the first time. Yeah, he kinda knew that he's talking to someone the whole time, but at that moment, JIn looked directly to your face for the first time. And the first thing that struck him was that he knew you already. Your face was almost awkwardly familiar to him. But Jin was fully aware of never seeing you before. You were beautiful, eyecatching and something totally out-of-the-world for the man so much, that he forgot how to speak or listen to what you were saying.

"Excuse me?" - He asked you back, jumping in the middle of your monologue. Your eyes widened as the man interrupted you in the middle of naming your offer, having you completely forgetting what you were speaking about. - "I was asking you about what would you like to order." - You mumbled, looking at the man back.

Something was telling you that you've seen him somewhere. These lips were hard to forget about - and you've memorized them from somewhere. Almost as if you already had kissed them one day. The eyes and the entirety of his face... Where the hell did you meet this guy? - "It wasn't this sort of excuse me. I wanted to ask..." - "If we had already met somewhere?" - You finished with anticipation. This conversation could go two ways - either, he'd think you're a total creep or he would be thinking about the same thing as you were.

"Yea. Exactly. Do you have that feeling too or am I going nuts?" - The man's face lit up with a huge smile, which obviously had you smiling in a second too. Quickly, you shook your head and confirmed the weird feeling inside his head. - "Good. Now, for the coffee, I would like a latté with double milk, please." - He finally placed his order and you, since you got through the stranger phase pretty quick, pointed your fingers at him, wiggling your eyebrows. - "I'm on it, chief." - You winked, having the man's eyes watching every move you made.

You moved with such grace that it was hard to take his eyes off of you - it was so hard that Jin had to lean his arms next to the cash register since he wasn't able to turn around from you. There was this force that was simply making the man gravitate toward you, even if he hadn't ever felt like that before. Any girl he had previously dated or slept with never had him gravitating towards them. It didn't matter if they were somehow considered prettier, had better jobs, or whatever, any of them didn't for these reactions out of him. Again, he got lost while you were obviously talking to him.

"Excuse me?" - He woke up from his small trance again, still leaning his upper body the countertop. - "I was asking if you're alright. But now, I almost want to ask you if you're staring at my lovely bottom." - You repeated yourself, finally finishing his order. With a small smile, you took the cup to your palms, searching for a black marker.

"Isn't this against the company policy or something?" - "What is?" - "Flirting with a hot costumer." - The man smiled at you daringly, shoving a strand of his hair behind his ear. As you finally found the marker, your cheeks started to go on fire as you shook your head unbelievably.

"As long as the hot costumers don't mind it, it's not taken as a sexual assault. Come on, what's your name?" - You pushed the cap on the stranger's cup. The man straightened again, putting both his hands on the countertop. You watched as he childishly bit his lower lip, tapping some sort of a melody into the wood. - "Wouldn't you wanna know?" - His playful voice teased you, but just moments after that, you put the cup in front of him, naming the amount of money you wanted from him. Without any word, he paid and even gave you a pretty generous tip, But when you gave him the receipt, the man took the marker and wrote his name and his number on the back of it, giving it back to you.

"And what should I do with this... Jin?" - A victorious smile lighted your whole face up as Jin was already walking back to his car, where his pretty nervous sister was sitting. - "I think youre smart enough to figure it out. My offer is today at eight p.m., so give me the deeds as soon as you decide." - He winked before he turned at his heels, walking straight to the car.

The whole exchange was definitely that once-in-a-lifetime one because you rarely met someone who would make you feel like you knew them from the very first moment you laid your eyes on them. Who knew? Maybe it was destiny showing himself even centuries after the moment you've met someone for the first time. Well, that was pretty crazy to start with, but... Who could really know?