#because they were born different. because they were taught or raised different. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

your-nanas-house · 6 months

Text

"Good girl"

◇ Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby X fem!reader

◇ Warnings: slightly smut, age gap, kind of cheating?, angst, fluff

◇ Summary: You want to be a good wife for your husband, John Shelby, and Thomas is willing to help you.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Still trying to figure out how to write Tommy in a more Tommy way. Let me know what you think! 🍓

"You know what I mean" Tommy sighed, rubbing his temples stressed because of the hard day he had

"Before the arranged marriage" He added, looking at you with his cold blue eyes.

"There must have been suitors waiting to marry you, hon" Tommy said softly, sounding almost curious in tone.

He knew that you were married to his own brother, John Shelby— he himself was the cause of that arranged marriage of a couple of months ago— but he was still curious, there was something in you, maybe the mature mind inside of a young lovely woman's body, that attracted him.

"Not really, no" you replied in a soft tone, pausing a moment to give a further explanation when you saw Tommy's eyebrows raise slightly in curiosity but he was faster

"No suitors waiting to propose?" Thomas asked sounding almost incredulous at this.

"I find that hard to believe, especially when looking at a pretty face such as yours."

He was still looking straight at you, almost appraising you.

"There had to have been at least one young man who fell in love with you, right?" He insisted, blowing out the smoke of his cigarette from his nostrils.

You sat better on the sofa, holding the sleepy form of Charlie on your chest as you replied with embarrassment

"Men want brainless women, sir. If love is to want their body and not their soul then I had plenty of suitors but if love is wanting the soul and the body then I was alone" you whispered, catching him off guard.

"A poetic young woman." Tommy said softly, as he looked at you with interest.

The maid behind the door seemed a little shocked at the conversation not that you knew or cared.

"You know, miss, there are many women who would kill to marry a me, get my attention or touch, just for your information." Tommy said, his tone slightly playful but his face serious "They'd be waiting in line, hoping to be noticed by me"

He let out a long sigh, and smiled softly.

"But it's clear to me now that those women would have been a waste of my time." He added, his baby blue eyes now staring at you in an almost dark way, you bit your bottom lip confused making something dark snap into him.

"And why are you not one of those women?" Tommy asked, after a small pause, with a sly smile. He really expected to see a glimpse of interest or lust in your eyes as soon as you sat on that sofa.

"You're not blind, of course. You know I'm a rich, handsome man, I'm a war veteran, a gangster, a businessman. Most women would be fighting one another for a slice of me."

He murmured leaning back into the sofa as he turned his body further towards you

"Yet here you are, not showing me the least bit of interest. Why is that?"

You were honestly a bit taken aback by his statement— you weren't blind for sure, Tommy was an handsome and charismatic man but you were married to his young brother and you momma taught you to be loyal.

You blushed softly, caressing softly Charlie's brunette hair as you thought of a reply

"I think...because of respect, sir" you paused a moment adding "and personality".

His cold eyes and dominant aura was making you feel a bit helpless.

"Respect?" Tommy stared at you, his tone serious "You respect me, miss?"

He studies your expression before continuing to speak

"A woman can respect a man, miss, whilst also seeing him as a man. Just as I respect you for your intelligence and courage, I also see you as a beautiful woman who, in different circumstances, I would not hesitate to express my admiration for."

Your eyes widen softly as you stared at him speechless, a soft blush of shame covered your cheeks.

You were born in a strict and pretty religious family so you honestly had no idea about this kind of things, sadly, your own husband John told you so— not with words but rather with his eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't know how" you whispered in a soft voice, ashamed to admit it out loud.

"Don't know how to... see a man as a man?" Tommy asked, his tone more serious again

"Or you don't know how to show affection, miss?" He added, looking statight at you.

He seemed genuinely curious to hear what you had to say about this.

"You seem to have no trouble showing affection to Charlie." He added, as an observation, his cold eyes on you.

He was right, you knew how to show affection, you just lucked of experience in romantic affection.

You never had this kind of conversation with anyone before, it was rather interesting for your naive mind and after hearing for most of your life, rumors about the infamous Thomas Shelby you know for sure that he could help you with this— so you followed the wind with open arms, without shame.

"Is the same love I show Charlie the one that I should show my husband?" You asked curiously, stroking in a motherly way the soft baby hair of Charlie

"No." Tommy answered, his tone firm and decisive

"The love you have for Charlie is maternal. You look after him, you care for him. You love him as a child."

He paused

"The love you have for a husband is very different, miss" Tommy explained, his voice soft.

"The love you have for your husband is... tender, passionate." He murmured softly, his icy gaze becoming dark and even more full of lust

"I think you know the difference, miss— You just need to learn to show it." He added, his voice low sending a weird shiver through your spine.

"That is what marriage is, darlin—" Tommy sayid, his voice soft and smooth, the smoke of his cigarette escaping his mouth

"—Learning to show romance to your husband, learning to love him passionately."

You were confused but determined, you joined the Shelby family not so much time ago but you were now focused to be the perfect wife for your husband— so you nodded, eagerly, ready to please and learn.

"Shall I show you?" Tommy asked softly, breaking the silent that had been established

"Shall I teach you how to please a man?" He asked, looking back at you with a sly smile.

"How to be a wife, honey. Can I teach you how to do that?"

You honestly had a bad feeling, a lot of questions kept running around your head but you trusted Thomas, he was your brother-in-law.

Tommy seemed pleased at your answer, which surprised you a bit

"Good girl." He said, his voice soft again. He paused a moment, getting closer to you to put his hand on your leg, his voice quiet when he spoke again

"A woman like you should also learn how to give a man a treat every now and then"

Your eyes remained focused on him as he gave your leg a slight squeeze.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinder fanfic

632 notes · View notes

actingwithportals · 7 months

Text

I wish more people understood that not every blind person is the exact same and we do not all need the same things and also the circumstances under how you were raised and when your blindness occurred and how involved you were in a blind community all play parts into what accessibility needs you will have.

Like. I was born legally blind. My vision has been for the most part stable my whole life, and it is likely to not change (unless normal worsening with age). I was raised in a family full of sighted people and all of my friends and members of my community were sighted people. I did not start meeting other blind people and joining blind communities until my early teenage years. This shaped me in such a way that I never learned Braille until I started teaching myself when I got older, did not learn to use a cane until I started attending blind camps as a teen, did not know I had an option of asking for accessibility with videos or images or menus or shopping or cooking or ANYTHING until I met other blind people who made it clear to me that there was a way I could exist with independence as a blind person and didn't have to just. miss out on life that I couldn't see.

So a vast majority of the way I taught myself to get by is very different from someone who spent a lot more of their early years around other blind people. But I also picked up a great deal of "normal" blind accessibility tricks from my teen years of involving myself with more blind communities that other blind folks who never involve themselves in blind communities are aware of or find useful.

My vision teacher as a kid showed me JAWS and explained what it was, but never really bothered to teach me to use it because ZoomText she decided was better for me. So I grew up to use screen magnifiers and not screenreaders. She didn't teach me Braille because she could get ahold of large print books, and when she couldn't she would find me a vast array of magnifiers to use. Ones with lights, ones in different shapes, some that were actual screen devices while others were simply glass. She didn't teach me how to use a cane and instead got me monoculars and bioptics, even though those actually...were not very easily usable to me. I had to teach myself how to use a cane after my first year of camp where I was gifted one, and later expanded upon learning when I finally took Orientation and Mobility training my year before moving out to college. I wouldn't start learning Braille until around the same time when I was given a Brailler by the specific state agency that provided assistive devices to blind students during high school and college.

So now, as an adult, what I find useful is reading text on a screen so that I can adjust my own contrast and magnification, I use a cane when walking around on my own outside of my home or other familiar areas, I use Braille on my keyboard and around on my household appliances so that I don't have to bend over or squint to attempt to read any settings or buttons or keys. A different blind person who grew up with different circumstances will have a very different list of assistive technology that is useful to them. Some will hate magnifiers and prefer audiobooks. Some would rather read Braille. Some will use puff paint or color-coding for household appliances or items like on clothing tags or toothbrushes. Some will use bioptics or monoculars when going to the theater instead of sitting close to the screen, or they might do both, or neither and will just listen. Some will use canes, some will use service dogs, some will use neither, or might prefer a sighted guide.

There are...so many ways a blind person might choose to make their life accessible. And we do not always agree with each other on what is best, because we do not all have the same eyes. Nor do we have the same ears, or hands, or feet. We are varied and complex and we disagree sometimes and come together other times and we discuss amongst ourselves on how to make things better for our community and we confer with other communities on how we help ourselves and help each other. We are not all the same. We are not all the same. We are not all the same.

If you want an answer for what is the One Agreeable accessibility feature for blind people: there isn't one. So just talk to us, instead. Get to know how we vary, how we relate, how you can best help one of us and how you might best help another. I'm sure we'd be happy to tell you what works best for us individually if you ask. And if we wouldn't, then that's ok. Sometimes we gotta figure things out on our own first before we can explain it to others. Either way, never stop asking. Because accessibility is always evolving, and someone is always going to have a different answer to the same question.

You can't get accessibility wrong if you're just willing to try. So keep trying.

426 notes · View notes

01zfan · 1 month

Text

understanding my faith pt. 4 | l. at

church boy!anton x fem. reader | 3.3k words

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANTON! this is a compilation of a few requests and some other things i got in my inbox heh. also looked it up out of curiosity and anton actually was born on a sunday LMFAO?

contains: religious imagery and metaphors

umf: part one | part two | part three | part four

anton was born on a sunday. it was the first warm day of the season, marking the unofficial start of spring. anton heard the stories of the sun breaking through the storm clouds in the middle of the sermon. the congregation watched in silence as the beam of light casted through the stained glass to shine on the podium. it was then, as if lit on fire by the light that his mother began wailing. despite having a swollen stomach underneath unnecessary layers of clothes she still attended church passionately.

she got up from the pew and stumbled towards the exit, hand on her stomach while groaning in pain. many rushed to her aide but the beam of light was faster. it shined on her back, and when it disappeared behind another cluster of clouds a screaming baby was left in its place. anton was birthed in the aisle between two rows of pews while his mother was surrounded by confused parishioners.

if anton’s mom was treated like the virgin mary then anton was baby christ. he was too young to remember the offerings he received en masse. envelopes full of cash were slipped into his carseat and everyone constantly offered to hold him. anton had fleeting memories of people coming to him when he could first form full sentences, asking for guidance or for his well wishes. that was when he was still mischievous—prayers came with the small price of chocolate or banana milk.

every year when anton’s birthday came around, his church celebrated . when anton was younger he believed his congregation was celebrating him. but there was no cake, only food that received blessings from the bible. none of his friends were there, only people from his flock. he wasn’t at the arcade where he wanted to be, instead surrounded by trees and log cabins. anton received no gift he truly wanted. when he wanted the newest action figure he only got lessons on how to fish and forage for food.

by the time he was fifteen, anton dreaded seeing his birthdate on the calendar. a whole weekend gone every year, lost in the woods on an unnecessary church retreat. over time, anton started filling in the gaps of the story he heard through the grapevine. the story was beautiful and meant alot to the church, but he could tell their were aspects of the sotry that didn’t fit the narrative. his mother would grimace and shake her head anytime anton tried to dig deeper. there was still a red stain in the carpet of the nave, where it seeped through and painted the wood crimson. anton imagined his mother’s frightened face—he’s now the same age she was when she gave birth for her entire world to see.

the more gaps in the story that were filled the more anton felt sympathy for his mother. he was always a dutiful son and loyal member to the church. he never complained about having to go into the woods during his birthday weekend. but when he realized what it took from his mother every year he started making the effort to vocalize how grateful he was. he was the first one to offer up his skills in fishing and led prayer. he listened to the prayers of people who still remembered that anton was a gift from god.

anton was twenty now and this trip was different. he was truly grateful beaming like the same light that shined down on his mother. he was grateful because he got to break bread with you, even if you sat on the opposite end of the table. he stole glances at you over the plates of fish and fruit, and raised the blood of christ in your direction. the fear of being caught again should’ve taught you two a lesson. a random face in the crowd whispered to anton after the night in the parking lot, saying that she knew what had happened.

“cursed for the same fate like your mother.” she sneered.

the blood drained from anton’s face when hearing her words. you were there behind him, backing his voice the same way you did when performing for the church. you came to his defense, puffing your chest and shaking your head.

denial fell from your lips quickly, and anton blindly corroborated. your words were confident but anton could see the tremor in your hands and the way your pupils shook. you were both lucky that the woman was silenced, saying something along the lines that she will be held in the good graces of anton’s parents from now on.

a week had passed and you two haven’t let yourselves be in the same room together since. it was a test for the both of you, about temptation and if the chance of getting caught was worth it. anton learned that he didn’t care, and that you cared even less.

there were short moments in the days leading up to the retreat. anton following you as you passed him in the hallway, slipping notes when you would join hands to sing hymns. anton barely got the chance to touch you anymore and it had an effect on him. anton would usually be able to hold his wants at bay, but lack of contact made him desperate. a simple look from you sat at the forefront of his mind. he spent the rest of the day finding your name in hymns and the separate letters that spelled your name in the bible.

he would never tell you, but at his lowest he went into the confessional booth alone and thought of you. in the darkness of the booth he could see the last night you spent together. in the shadows he was able to project the image of his car windows fogging and the way it rocked back and forth. when anton remembered your clammy hand pressed on his broad chest he couldn’t stop his own hand. he touched himself in the cramped space of the booth. his knees pressed to the wooden walls, with so much force that they creaked. the sound drowned out his grunts and the wet sound of him fucking his hand. he imagine you on your knees in front of him in prayer when he made a mess over his knuckles and slacks. he slumped in the booth, looking through the small holes trying to come to terms with what he had done. anton was able to rationalize his actions—it was easy to ask for forgiveness when he was already here.

“forgive me father for i have sinned.” anton said quietly to himself.

he had gotten too used to saying that phrase. he had to say it nearly every night leading up to the trip. he couldn’t keep his hands off himself when he thought of you. the problem only compounded while being here. he was alone in his cabin, the one single gift he got for his birthday. while he was alone, he got the chance to do anything he wanted. he spent that time thinking of you, and what he would do to you when you got the chance to finally be together again.

anton laid on his duvet in only his boxers. he stared at the fan above him, how it did slow revolutions. anton barely felt air circulating in the room even though the room felt like it was closing in on him. trying to control his breath didn’t work, the harder he tried the more desperate he became. he could almost hear your breathy moans as he pinched the fabric of his boxers in his hand. he unnecessarily teased himself the whole trip. he had worked himself up the whole trip as some sort of punishment. anton only had to touch his thigh lightly to have his dick twitching in his underwear. the tent in his pants obstructed his vision when he looked down, and if he stared at it for too long he would twitch again.

anton had almost given in when he heard a rock tap on his window. he was so inside of his mind that he didn’t hear what was going on around him. he could only hear your voice and see your face. he imagined you crawling up his body, your weight causing craters in the mattress that caused his body to lean. anton could barely move in this position, only breathe heavily as the vision of your face got closer and closer to his. when your lips ghosted over his the sound of a tiny pebble was heard again.

anton shot up in his bed, pulled from his trance. he could feel the precum seeping through the cotton of his underwear and his body already felt weak. he had half a mind when the tiny sound filled his room again. his head found the sound, and he grabbed a folded blanket off his bed to hide his weakness for you as he got off the bed.

timid steps took him to his cabin window, and he could see you on the other side of the glass. the blanket was forgotten on the ground as anton lifted his window. anton didn’t hesitate to take out the screen of the window so he could fully lean part of his body out. he should’ve looked from side to side quickly to check that you weren’t followed, but he only saw you.

“what are you doing here?” anton whispered.

you smiled before walking closer to his window.

“it’s your birthday.” you said simply.

anton nodded, still looking at you. you got on your tiptoes, and anton leaned so far down that your foreheads touched.

“can i come inside?” you asked.

any part of anton that would’ve denied had left him a long time ago. all that was left was you in his mind, and how you looked up at him from your position outside. he nodded and reached his hands out to grab yours. when your hold on his hands was tight enough he used a portion of his strength to help you through the open space in his window.

you didn’t need his help. you cleared most of the way, but you couldn’t stop yourself from stumbling trying to regain your balance. anton held you close, stumbling with you until you both steadied. he had your arms pressed to your chest, constricting you in a way that left you looking up to him helplessly. anton could tell you felt all of him when your eyes widened and your nails dug into your palm. you took a glance down. past the place where your two bodies touched antons hard dick pressed into your torso.

“did you miss me?” you asked.

“breaking bread with you wasn’t enough.” anton said quietly.

“are you giving into temptation?” you ask, tilting your head.

your words are playful as your eyes drift to anton’s lips. he is serious when he speaks, pulling you closer into him.

“can you feel it?” anton whispers.

you nod your head, and quickly peer behind anton to find the bed. the walk back to the bed is slow. neither of you kiss, only breathe in heavily as you find your footing.

by the time you both find it there’s no use. the back of anton’s legs hit the soft edges of his mattress, causing him to fall backwards. you stay upright, and your eyes stay on the tent still in anton’s pants. he lets you feast on him as he backs up further on the bed, until he can lay his full body down comfortably.

anton watches you get undressed at the foot of his bed. you take off each article of clothing slowly, your pants pool at your ankles and you toss your shirt to anton. he grabs it and brings it to his face, breathing in all he can take. you watch mesmerized on the other end, mouth agape when he thrusts upwards into nothing. anton’s cheeks turn rosy but he is not embarrassed. he continues to let his hips jerk and his dick twitch. you both break bread for the second time that night, feeding off eachother’s reactions.

when you can’t take it anymore, you crawl onto the bed. the same way in anton’s visions, a grueling slow pace where your body is almost touching his. anton forces himself to be still. not only does he have to be ready to take whatever you give him, but he is also afraid if he moves too much the cliff he’s balancing on will disappear underneath his feet. so he stays still as your eyes travel from the tent in his pants to the hair on his head.

you were on your knees beside anton’s body, leaned over until your clothed chest touched his. anton felt one of your hands start at his knuckles, freeing his hand from the hold it had on his boxers. you place his palms facing upright. anton slightly shook his head—he was not strong enough to be so vulnerable in his sensitive state underneath you. you nodded your head and pressed your wet lips to his ear.

“i will never leave you nor forsake you.” you whispered.

anton took a deep breath, swallowing his pride and kept his palms facing towards the ceiling.

“you are blessed.” you said underneath your breath.

this is when anton nods in agreement. the way you touch his palm and drag your hand up his arm makes anton think he is favored by something bigger than himself. when your hand glides across his collarbones and up his neck anton’s hand snaps to grab you at your elbow. the sudden movement causes you to pause, and you look down at him. anton’s eyes feel wet as he looks up at you. his dick twitches and he can feel it getting even harder. the tent in his pants moves as his heavy dick slaps against his stomach. the thought of you touching him fills his mind, so much that anton has the urge to flip you over.

“it’s been so long.” anton chokes out.

you nod and grab his hand that rests on the bed. you look down between your two bodies, looking past his dick that weeps for your attention to find his hand. you lift it slowly, until anton’s palm cups your heat. you sigh heavily and he indulges himself for a second, pressing a finger to your panties to feel the wet spot. you close your eyes briefly and press your forehead against anton’s.

“i waited for you for years, so why do i feel like this after a week?” you ask.

anton can’t bring himself to mention sin at a time like this. he had built an understanding that sin was just a reworked virtue. lust was a product of his never ending love and his need to please you. it was a gift to be with you, and lust helped him explore aspects of your union in the private spaces you two created. so anton lets of a breath and guides your hand to his heavy dick. it twitches upwards, looking for your warmth before you can even touch him. when you grab his length with conviction over the fabric of his boxers anton thrusts into your fist. his free hand guides one of your legs over his body. once you straddle him you let your body rest into him fully. you pull your hand away from his dick to replace it with your clothed heat.

“you can feel all of me soon.” you say quickly.

“i can’t wait any longer.” anton whimpers.

anton’s hand was still selfishly placed on your center. he worked his way up, until it was just a singular finger pressing slightly into your clit. all of his restraint went into not rubbing revolutions on the sensitive bundle of nerves. but anton knew you well enough to know that giving you a inch made you take a mile. he knew that you would be trying your best to chance after the dull sensation of a finger pressed to your clit that it would drive you to rut your hips into his.

anton responded just as desperate, chasing the feeling of his stiff dick having nowhere to go. he wanted to feel you wrapped around him while he got lost in the halls of your labyrinth. but anton didn’t want to stop seeing your chest jump in the confines of your bra while you pressed your hips into his with a reckless abandon.

“i’ll make this your best birthday.” you gasp.

your breathing started to become heavy and anton was reduced to actions. he nodded, showing you how grateful he was for you but moved a hand to your ass to press you on his dick. he needed more so much more that he would bare the burden to cum in his pants like he had never been touch before. all he needed you to do was keep swiveling your hips and place wet kisses on his face.

anton was thankful you knew what he needed. the way you always took care of him made a stone form in his throat. when you kissed his jawline anton couldn’t hold back.

“i’m sorry. i can’t wait any longer.” he whimpered.

you only continued moving your hips the same way, feeling your slick and anton’s precum mix on the fabric of your underwear.

“don’t be sorry.” you said clearly.

you kissed his forehead and pulled him up, so you guys were both sitting upwards on the bed. the position change confused anton, but you started leading him. you alternated between bounding and grinding on his dick, and anton’s hands on your side helped you with how much pressure he needed. anton’s held tilted back, and he focused on the fans slow moving blades. your quiet moans were gentle like the air circulating in his room, and the gentle bed creaks put anton in a trance.

your hand on his face brought anton back to reality. he had you on top of him, and your eyebrows were knit the same way they were when you were trying to read latin. your mouth opened and anton took it as an invitation to place his lips on yours.

he could only slip his tongue into your mouth for a second before he felt the coil in the pit of his stomach wind again. he pulled away from you as it twisted all around his body, and he pulled you in when it snapped. anton felt his heavy dick strain against the fabric as he whimpered into the crook of your neck. you moaned while still riding him, and a pulling hand in anton’s hair prolonged the feeling across his body.

“i love you.” anton muttered over and over again.

“i love you too.” you mumbled back.

you followed shortly after him, pulling away so you could rest your hands on anton’s calves. he watched your abs flex as you continued to swivel your hips. all anton had to do was press that same finger to your clit to make you freeze. the wet spot on your panties from anton’s cum became darker as your legs shook around him. your eyes screwed shut and you instinctually turned your head away from anton to bite down on your shoulder. it kept you quiet enough to avoid the walls that had ears.

“my angel.” anton cooed.

you could only whine in response, and shake your head when anton teased you over your underwear. you pushed him back onto the bed, and you let all of your body weight rest on anton’s chest. you could feel his dick soften between your two bodies. when the cold wetness of your underwear made you shift, anton kept you pressed to his chest with a strong arm on your back.

anton laid with you until sunday came. both of you were so tired, so spent from time apart that you laid together in silence. you both watched to fan slowly rotate in the darkness until it was illuminated in the morning light. you left, this time through the front door and after kissing anton for every year he’s blessed the earth.

#requestz #seriez: sacrilegious #seriez: understanding my faith #01zfan: anton #anton smut #riize smut

162 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 4 months

Note

This is kind of late re: the culture conversation but I feel like I have a kind of weird perspective on this general idea of cultural appropriation re:embodiment. I’m Italian American, and indigenous South American but I was born in the US and when we immigrated to the US my South American ethnic group is so small and my parents were in Japan so long they culturally assimilated and I was raised in the Japanese immigrant community and literally went to Japanese day school.

This tension between who is “allowed” to participate in a culture or identity has always been deeply fraught for me in a way that has kind of bulldozed my understanding of cultural ownership. Not being “ethnically” Japanese has led to many people deciding for me what the appropriateness of my cultural participation is. And being indigenous South American complicates my relationship to standard cultural alignment with latinidad more broadly.

I have a lot of friends who are white USAmericans who are progressive but also deeply concerned about the boundaries between themselves and the cultures they studied in college and the countries they taught English in as migrant workers. I had a conversation with one of my friends who worked in China and he was talking about how he didn’t mind being legally disenfranchised because he was a white American migrant and didn’t feel it was necessary for him to have the same legal rights as Chinese citizens. And I had to point out that he was living in the same disenfranchised conditions as any other immigrant and there was no reason for him to downplay it. I don’t think it’s disingenuous or appropriative for him to have Chinese art in his house or cook Chinese food or participate in Chinese culture. Not because he lived there or had a complicated legal status in the country or somehow crossed some imaginary threshold of true and genuine cultural appreciation but just because culture is what you do its not a given fact of who you are. It’s a seamless part of his life and just because he sought it out doesn’t make it less genuine to me.

I think because of my complicated upbringing I have spent a lot of time with people between cultures, reconnecting, adopting new ones and feel very strongly that if there is no biological tie to culture people can incorporate whatever they want into their lives and it’s a VERY US American perspective to be so self critical and political about it.

And this isn’t to say cultural exploitation doesn’t exist but when it does happen it’s usually underpinned by a capital motivation to sell an idea of a culture and not a weird white guy who got really into Buddhism or a several generations totally removed Italian American incorporating Panettone into their Christmas celebrations. When people cross the line it’s cringe and inauthentic but it rarely goes beyond that.

When I was in college I had a professor who studied my indigenous ethnic group and I took a couple of his classes. Once I brought my grandmother and mom to campus to speak with him in our indigenous language, and my grandmother spoke to him for three hours straight. He was a white man from Michigan but also one of my only connections to my culture, a person to practice and share my language with, to connect with my family. And all because he thought South American indigenous groups were interesting and got a job with Amnesty International to investigate the dictatorship to get down there. He is the kind of man people wag their finger at and he was one of the most important cultural elders I had.

This is a long way to say basically I just really believe we are allowed to make our lives whatever we want and make ourselves whatever we want. The phenomenon of white Americans in search of culture exists for the reasons you listed below and outside of these political discussions about its appropriateness and its moral boundaries there are just people doing and embodying that cultural fluidity and exchange for a million different reasons that aren’t worth litigating. The small town gay kids who move to big cities and hang out in the leather scene, getting into punk or hardcore or goth scenes, even converting to a new religion function under the same mechanism of the kind of cultural immersion that gives you access to the community and membership in the culture that weebs who immigrate to Japan to teach English, or international students coming to America, or inter cultural or inter faith partnerships undergo.

Anyways thanks for listening to my treatise. So to whoever’s reading this take the dance class or the traditional craft class or learn a new language or learn to cook new kinds of food make all different types of friends and make new traditions out of old ones or old traditions out of new perspectives. Culture isn’t a sacred part of who we are it’s a sacred form of the things we do and embody and connect with others through :-) <3

this is an incredible, wise, compassionate message. Thank you so much for sending it. You've said so much here about the problems of tying cultural identity to a race, ethnicity, or blood, or to regard it as static or isolated. And how much the standard racist American conceptions of racial and ethnic identity make structural discussions about disenfranchisement worldwide hard to have. Said so so much far better than I could, thank you!!

351 notes · View notes

ineffablydaydreaming · 7 months

Text

Okay. I need to ramble.

Crowley's entire existence revolves around the apple, it's an event that's in constant repetition. Let me explain:

To humanity, he only had to give them the apple once. With humanity, neither the two hesitated: Crowley says it out loud, he doesn't get what's wrong with knowing the difference between good and evil (even though personally I don't interpret that as being the only thing the apple is about), so he didn't hesitate in creating the original sin, because he either didn't think it was a big deal, or because he thought it was important that humans gained that Knowledge and formed their own opinions and thoughts on the universe rather than being eternally naive, or both. And the humans didn't hesitate to grasp that knowledge either, because... Well, we're humans, you and I. I think we can probably relate.

So as soon as he climbed that wall of Eden he was done, but just with humanity. When he re-encountered Aziraphale, the apple event started to repeat itself again. Over and over, throughout their entire 6000 years of being together, Crowley tried giving Aziraphale the apple, but differently from humanity, Aziraphale hesitated every single time and only took small pieces.

Over and over, Crowley voices his thoughts on God's plan and God Herself. "You can't kill children! [...] But that's something one'd expect my side to do..." He also voices his thoughts on Heaven and Hell's way of working, especially the way they treat humans. "Our administrations don't care how things are done, they just want them done." "That only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle."

All of this is Crowley offering Aziraphale the apple. The apple is knowledge, it's the knowledge that you aren't the good guys. you are flawed. you are corrupt. they are brainwashing you. you're just a tool for them to meet their own goals. they don't care about you nor humanity, just keeping the status quo.

He's tempting him, constantly, with the knowledge, for him to finally realize the truth, and sometimes it works. The Beginning, The Deluge, A Companion to Owls, The Ressurectionist and Armageddon were all attempts Crowley made for Aziraphale to finally eat the apple. In The Beginning and in The Deluge it doesn't do much. You can see the doubt in his eyes and his voice, how he doesn't approve of what God wants to do but can't say it nor do anything about it.

In A Companion to Owls, it's the first time he lies without lying by omission, instead directly lying to Gabriel. He looks at Crowley before he does it. He looks at Crowley, because they share empathy for humanity, for Job's children they refused to let die.

He looks at Crowley, and Crowley offers him a slice of the apple. And he bit it.

In The Ressurectionist, it's not about Aziraphale going against his staff, it's him questioning the morals he was taught by Heaven. It isn't much in comparison... But you can see he regrets what he did and chooses to help Elspeth. The one who rebels is Crowley, who prevents her from dying and going to Hell, and it's implied he's tortured because of it (next flashback is him asking for Holy Water).

In this case, Crowley simply led him to the apple. Humanity offered it. He took another bite.

In Armageddon, Crowley offers him the apple, saying that they can't just let the world end while watching it. Aziraphale hesitates, then bites it, agreeing to help raise Warlock. They realize they got the wrong boy and Crowley wants to give up, but Aziraphale doesn't give up, instead continues his search. Crowley offers him the apple, saying they need to kill the antichrist somehow, saying he won't do it because of his own morals while Aziraphale says he won't do it because of Heaven's reputation: he refuses to bite it. But only this time. After their two breakups, he's hopeful, he thinks he can fix things, he talks to Metatron. His hope vanishes.

He bites the apple, at last. It's why he doesn't hesitate trying to shoot Adam while he's in Tracy's body. It's why he tries to defend Adam saying Heaven and Hell might be going against the Ineffable Plan. It's why he tells Crowley to do something when Satan is coming. It's why he and Crowley swap bodies in order to survive. He eats the apple, he has the knowledge, and he doesn't give it up.

He and Crowley always do what they think is right. I doubt I need to explain Season 2 in this post, do I? Entire season is Aziraphale evading Heaven and trying to find a solution to Gabriel's situation on his own. He bit the apple on the first episode before Crowley even showed up.

But then, why did Aziraphale give Adam and Eve the flaming sword if he didn't talk to Crowley beforehand? Wasn't that his own idea?

Well. Before the Beginning, I truly feel like that conversation about how the nebula will have to be shut down in 6000 years didn't just plant the seed of doubt on Crowley, it also did on Aziraphale. His was much tinier, quieter, he was still loyal to Heaven... Until he no longer could be. Until he saw an unarmed Adam and a pregnant Eve leaving the Garden to the outside world where everything was cold and deadly and out to get them. The seed of doubt tied its roots on Aziraphale's sympathy and kindness, for Crowley but, especially, for humanity. He's their guardian, after all. He couldn't just stand and watch.

Because, back then, in space, he had bit a tiny piece of the apple when Crowley, unintentionally, offered it to him. "You can't create an entire universe, run it for a couple thousand years, then stop!" He tasted it, even if just for a fraction, but then handed it away. "It's not up to us to make decisions for the Almighty." But the taste, the seed of doubt, was still there, lingering. So he gives away the flaming sword.

Their sympathy for humanity (and for each other; "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble!") is a trait they mutually share, and because they've both tasted the apple, they're willing to break their respective rules in order to stand for what they think is right. And we can see that Aziraphale's sympathy doesn't extend only to humans, he feels it for Gabriel when he says something terrible would happen if he didn't come to the bookshop.

But Crowley wasn't the first person in the universe to offer someone the apple, you see.

This is the ironic part.

You see, Crowley offered the apple to Aziraphale, then to humanity, then tried, for thousands of years, to make Aziraphale eat the rest of it. But do you know who made Crowley eat the apple himself? Do you know who made Crowley receive the knowledge? Do you know who made Crowley differentiate fair from unfair, good from evil, bad from good? Do you know who made Crowley decide to disagree, to form his own thoughts, to express his unsatisfaction with God's plan?

Aziraphale.

Aziraphale started it -- he stated a fact, a knowledge, that Crowley disagreed with and thought was unfair and a bad idea. Crowley's Fall began right then and there with him voicing his concerns and losing his faith.

Aziraphale stated where the apple was and Crowley willingly picked it up and ate it, and now, Crowley is in a constant loop of offering the apple to Aziraphale himself.

Crowley fell because he bit the apple before it was even called an apple. Aziraphale offered it to him without even knowing and now he's doomed to eat it too.

"I'm just a demon who goes along with Hell's plans as far as he can."

[...]

"You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven's plans as far as he can."

"But that sounds..." "Lonely? Yeah."

[...]

"We're on our side."

#hissing around #good omens tv #good omens #go2 #gomens #gomens 2 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers

329 notes · View notes

canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 8 months

Text

PRELIMINARY ROUND - DC COMICS

PROPAGANDA

Cassandra Cain

1.) essentially her character premise is that shes more or less an unbeatable martial artist due to the way she was raised. in the comics, she's the second batgirl and had a very popular solo series from 2000-2006. However, essentially DC editorial really didn't like that a teenage chinese girl was a better hand-to-hand fighter than batman, and so mandated that she be turned into a extremely random (also remarkably racist, as she was more or less turned in a 'dragon lady' stereotype) villain, which completely derailed and destabilized her character enough for her to almost entirely disappear from comics for the next decade. this is a far more detailed write up if wanted: https://www.reddit.com/r/HobbyDrama/comments/pdue0e/american_comicsdc_comics_the_saga_of_cassandra/

2.) Following the events of One Year Later, Cass was turned into a homicidal villain who led her own league of assassins and wanted to force Tim Drake into murdering people. This was later retconned as her being drugged, brainwashed, and manipulated by deathstroke.

3.) Literally canonically a better fighter than Batman and probably most of the DC universe. Killed one person once and because of the way she grew up (never taught to speak, learned to communicate by reading body language, in order to make her the ultimate weapon), saw what he experienced as he died and then refused to ever kill again. Had an awesome initial run… And then got hit with "evil mind control" that made her go completely OOC, depopularizing her character so much that a lot of people don't even know she exists.

Barbara Gordon

1.) Was shot as angst value for Bruce and her dad, implied to be sexually assaulted in The Killing Joke with absolutely no respect for her long career as Batgirl. When Alan Moore asked if he could, the editor said "cripple the bitch." She became paralyzed from the waist down. THankfully, an actually good writer picked her up from there and then wrote one of the best stories ever written (Oracle Year One: Born from Hope). Was one of the most iconic disabled characters in comic book history, hell, as Oracle, she was definitely up there as one of the most iconic disabled characters ever as well as a fantastic character, period. There were a few moments where people kept trying to make things out of her disability and had her be shitty to other women for no reason but for the most part, she was awesome. During her time In 2011, Dan Didio and some other misogynistic/ableist comic book writers were responsible for "curing" her disability and forcing her back into Batgirl, despite her having shown absolutely no desire to do so, as part of the New 52. They also made it an editorial mandate that she couldn't have glasses, a cool secret base, and her time as Oracle couldn't be referenced. This was because those writers were nostalgic for the 60s Batman show where Babs was played by an actress they all had the hots for and couldn't accept she'd grown up and moved on. That was bad enough, but over time, she's been increasingly deaged and reduced even further to just Dick Grayson's on and off again girlfriend and a generic girlboss. Batgirl of Burnsides burn in hell.

2.) Famously fridged in 1988, which was so popular with misogynists it became canon. After almost 2 decades of being one of the only disabled characters, was rebooted to a younger, more fun version of herself whose only history is that she was fridged but not disabled by it.

3.) The Killing Joke is one of the biggest comic examples of a female character getting hurt to motivate male characters. Also tbe way different cannons will trade off who her romantic intrest is out of Batfamily is pretty disturbing ranging from Bruce Wayne in Batman the Animated series universe (ew) to Tim Drake in the Arkham games (ew). Not to mention DC now is not letting her grow out of being Batgirl taking away her legacy of other young female heroes taking up her mantle and her getting to mentor them instead forcing her into a Batgirl cycle of purgatory when she was always better as Oracle (Its a little more complicated in the new Batgirl book but its still not solving the issues in a way that feels meaningful enough to make up the damage).

#polls #preliminary round

301 notes · View notes

moo-blogging · 19 days

Note

Hello! How are you? I have a request, if that's okay, thug/underground Levi trying to find a ring to propose to reader, when he does reader accepts but gives him a huge secret she's been hiding from him (like she has royal blood or something, idk 😅)

HAVE A GOOD,AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL DAY! - 🎵🍍

Who would have thought that the infamous Levi would be looking everywhere to get a ring? An engagement ring to be exact. He never realised that there were hardly any jewelry sold in the Underground.

He even resolved to ask the prostitutes where they got their jewelries. Mostly were given by rich merchants from the surface and others traded from other prostitutes. "Tch!" He said as he chewed his lower lips, thinking about a solution.

it was about 2 years ago that Levi met you. You were wearing close to nothing, sitting by a leaky pipe, cleaning yourself up. You had cut your hair yourself, but hurt your left ear in the process. Blood was oozing from the wound.

"You'll get an infection if you use the water," Levi's cold voice echoed through the quiet alley. Instantly, you grabbed the pair of rusty scissors you stole to defend yourself. You stared into Levi's eyes, predicting his actions but all you could see was a guy with silverish blue eyes.

He dropped a bag of medication on the floor, along with his vest. He walked away, keeping a distance so you could retrieve it. he stood by the entrance of the alley, watching out for you. It took you sometime to move toward the package. You found a bottle of pungent disinfectant and bandage and you wrapped your wound clumsily. You slid into his vest and to your surprise, it fitted.

You were ready to give yourself to him, just like most of the guys you met in your life. Instead, he took you home and introduced you to Farlan and Isabelle.

Levi knew he could get any girl he wanted because the girls basically threw themselves at him. But with you, he was uncertain. You introduced him into the tea business. You could differentiate the tea by grades just by smelling and looking at the colours. And you had taught him how to brew the perfect tea. Levi fell in love with you slowly. The nights you spent brewing tea together, moving boxes containing tea leave during late night storms, and keeping watch of premium tea leaves before its delivery.

On the night when you were lost between tall boxes of tea leaves, Levi kissed you in the shadows. Your shoulders raised in surprised and your eyes widened. But Levi had his eyes shut tightly as he pressed into your lips. You exhaled after holding your breath, and when you inhaled, you took him into your lungs and you calmed down. Gently, you closed your eyes and leaned in, kissing him back. You had fallen for him on the first day you met. A gentleman who rescued you.

After making a deal with the blacksmith, Levi harvested mineral stones using his gears and had him made into a ring. Levi was awestruck when he collected the ring. It was an iron ring dotted with different colours of mineral stones. The handiwork was not perfect, but it was perfect for you.

That night, Levi proposed to you privately in the bedroom. He didn't want to cause any unwanted attention. You eyes lit up and you said yes. With shaky hands, Levi slid the ring into your finger. You hugged and kissed each other passionately.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you a nicer ring," Levi brushed your hair off your forehead. You shook your head and looked at the ring again.

"I have seen a lot of shiny things, but none was mine." You looked at Levi lovingly, "You gave me my first jewelry."

And you told him where you came from. You were the child of an Asian mother and the prince. Someone presented your mother, who was kidnapped, to the prince. Months later, your mother was pregnant and sent away to a tea farm, where you were born and raised. It wasn't until the kidnappers found out that your mother was alive and had you, you wouldn't had known you had royal blood. Your mother died trying to save you, but you were brought to the Underground, awaiting for your new fate.

When the time was right, you escaped. You threw away your clothes as you ran and stole a pair of scissors. And the rest was history.

Levi was stunned as you talked about your childhood. You thought he would get mad at you. But Levi pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't you ever worry now, y/n," he kissed the side of your head, "now give me names and I will make some friends soon."

#sorry it took forever #love you #levi ackerman #levi fluff #thug levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou #midnight thoughts #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi drabbles

72 notes · View notes

c00kietin · 2 months

Text

It's the 17th of March, so y'know what that means-

Happy Saint Patrick's Day to you all! I know the majority of you probably don't celebrate, which is fair, BUT I decided I wanted to talk a little more about the country I was born and raised in- the Emerald Isles of Ireland!! :D

If you're just here for the art, well here ya go! However, if you want to learn more in a VERY long post:

Just to start off, here's the Irish flag and the Ivory Coast flag! Wanted to add this because they can get easily mixed up (I got them muddled up a LOT when I was younger-)

Since it is Saint Patrick's Day, I should probably elaborate what that's about- what I've been taught in school is that Saint Patrick preached the Gospel to the Irish, one method including the shamrock to represent the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Of course, and the whole "he drove the snakes out of Ireland" but don't worry. There are still snakes in Ireland. And I'm pretty sure "snakes" is a metaphor anyway. And, turns out, he wasn't even originally from Ireland- he was British! Oh yeah, and he was kidnapped by pirates to become a slave when he was a teenager for 6 year s -

Here are some stereotypes or the first things that pop into your mind when you think of "Ireland"- leprechauns, short gingers, "Top of the mornin' to ya" and our love for spuds and beer. And, to tell you some stuff about them too!

Leprechauns originally wore red! They pop up in fairy tales quite often too.

Ireland is second when it comes to having the highest percentage of gingers with 10%, with Scotland having 13%. As for being short, I reassure you, there are plenty of tall and/or lanky people around. (A lot of my teachers are like this-)

I've heard no one say this as a greeting. The only Irish person I can think of who does is Jacksepticeye. You might be more likely to hear "How's it going?" or "What's the crack?"

As for loving beer, we are one of the highest consumers for it, but there are many other higher consumers! Also, I don't know if this is a thing in America or not, but we tend to call them pubs. Bars are a bit more...fancy? I don't know how to describe the difference.

And for loving potatoes? Okay. This is probably true lol. Almost everyone I know likes potatoes (with some exceptions). And, of course, who can forget the Great Famine when blight destroyed the potato crop and killed around a million people- spuds were a huge source of food back then.

And now, for language! Here are some I'm used to hearing quite regularly (and use often, too!)

Another two that I want to add are more Cork exclusive, but saying "boy/girl" at the end of sentences and using "like" a lot is quite common (especially the like one- I say "like" all the time ;v;).

And now, Irish itself! Now, I'm not going to tell you anything major (I'm not a teacher) but I will try my best to explain a little!

Irish is not the main language of Ireland but in some particular areas (shown in the right image) there are regions called Gaeltacht districts which predominantly speak Irish. Their Irish would be a lot better than my school-knowledge based Irish :'D Another thing to add is that different provinces (the provinces shown in the middle image) have different versions, or pronunciations of some words. Being from the province of Munster, I've been taught the "Munster" pronunciations and words.

So..."Tá mé éan sásta" would mean "I am a happy bird" :D

I apologise for how messy my writing looks-

OKAY. ONE MORE THING I WANTED TO COVER IN THE IRISH LANGUAGE IS THE NAMES, because I've seen plenty of people online and in real life joking lightheartedly how hard Irish names are pronounced. So here are some Irish names!!

Saoirse - this one is brought up quite a bit- It can either be pronounced as "seer-sha" or "sair-sha"!

Róisín - "roh-sheen" !

Eoin - even I had a hard time pronouncing this when I was younger- it's pronounced as "owe-in" like "owing" but without the g!

Fódhla - I remember this appeared in the newspaper once and a family member was baffled by it- it's said as "foh-la" :]

Another I want to mention is Eilish- you probably know it thanks to Billie Eilish, which is pronounced as "eye-lish"- but it can also be pronounced as "eye-leesh"!

Last one, Sinéad- you may have seen this one once or twice as is pronounced "shin-aid" :D

And now, some more quick stuff!!

Musicians from Ireland!!

On the left you have Hozier (love his music!! :D) and the right is the Cranberries!!

Some other Irish artists you may be familiar with are U2, Thin Lizzy, Westlife and Sinéad O' Connor!

Some popular Irish snacks!!

crisps/chips!! (I love em both dearly)

of course, how can I not bring up Irish bread: soda bread and blaas :D

Hot chicken rolls!! (seriously how are these not more popular elsewhere-) and spice bags!! (chips with spices, peppers. maybe chicken)

Animal wise, we haven't got anything too crazy, but we do have one of the largest breeds of dog, the Irish greyhound and the now extinct largest deer, the elk.

I think I'm beginning to run low on space, so I'll end it there!! If you're also Irish, free to add on facts/words!!

I don't usually say this but I would kinda appreciate reblogs since I felt like I put a bit more effort into this ;v;

So uh, yeah- Happy Saint Patrick's Day!! :D

#my art #my ocs #oc art #saint patrick's day #ireland #long post #talking

78 notes · View notes

artbyjessicajewett · 8 months

Text

Hi everyone! I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Jessica and I was a previous user of Tumblr before it was bought. I decided to come back.

Today I'm not so much a fandom person (my first account was a Supernatural and Destiel vibe) as I am living my "real" life as an artist, author, historian, and disability rights activist. I'll be 42 in February and I live on the border of Ohio and West Virginia - like, literally on the border. I can almost throw a rock and hit West Virginia from my apartment building. Living here after spending over twenty years in Georgia has been a fresh change. Georgia is not a great place for people with complex disabilities like mine. I get much better medical care and access to state services here in Ohio, which is why I came here. My ancestry is Appalachian anyway, so this does feel like home in a strange way.

My art is what I do the most. This is me doing a commission order a few years ago.

You're immediately wondering about my disability and why I do everything with the tools in my mouth. I was born with a condition called Arthrogryposis and that just simply means my joints have very little range of motion. Much of my body is stiff. So I taught myself to play with my toys, markers, etc., with my mouth rather than my hands before I could even read or go to school. It was natural for me. I live a happy life and I'm not upset about being born with this disability. You don't have to feel sorry for me because I don't feel sorry for me.

At this stage in my life, I'm working on art commission number 91 with about 50 more on my wait list. My work specializes in black and white pencil portraits, mostly of different historical periods. Most of the art people order from me has to do with my ability to interpret their previous lifetimes (yes, reincarnation) as well as introducing them to their spirit guides. I do regular art with no spiritual complex as well, like family portraits, friends portraits, pet portraits, architecture, fan art, original characters, some fantasy, witchcraft, folk magic, paranormal, historical events, etc. I'm heavily trained in realistic very detailed portraits, so if you're looking for anime or cute illustrations, I'm probably not your woman.

This is the last commission I finished.

This is an interpretation of that customer's spirit guide as they appeared before they died. This is "my style" of art, as they say. I like to do color art too but I finish black and white orders much faster.

Besides art, I'm a lifelong student of 19th century history in America focusing on women's roles, families, social issues, disability history, and LGBTQIA+ history. I was in school to specifically become an antebellum and Civil War historian before chronic illnesses forced me to drop out. Higher education 20+ years ago was a casserole of nonsense when it came to helping disabled students succeed. Don't get me started.

I'm also a lifelong paranormal researcher focusing mostly on hauntings tied to antebellum and Civil War America including old folklore. My mother and grandmother were Missouri folk magic practitioners. I was raised in an understanding of the unseen world. I also collect reincarnation cases from the Civil War period sparked by my own case from that time. I'll talk about that elsewhere if you want.

Follow me here if you like. I'm just getting started. I have to relearn how to use this app.

-Jessica

Shop: etsy.com/shop/ArtByJessicaJewett

If you're not interested in art, I also accept tips if you enjoy my content. I'm at $ArtByJessicaJewett on CashApp, at Jessica-Jones-1002 on Venmo, and PayPal.me/ArtByJessicaJewett on PayPal.

#art #writing #history #commission #portraits #disabled #artbyjessicajewett

313 notes · View notes

veryintricaterituals · 6 months

Text

I am Jewish, what does that mean?

I was born in Colombia on the 49th anniversary of Hitler's suicide, I was raised here but I lived in Israel for about four years. I am not white, I don't look white, and my first language is Spanish. I came back to Colombia three years ago because of the pandemic.

I grew up Jewish and swallowed all the pro-Israel propaganda, I moved there looking for better opportunities and somewhere safe where I could come out of the closet. It took me less than a month to understand where I really had ended up in. It wasn't so different from my own colonized third world country filled with violence.

I did my best, I voted against the current Israeli government four separate times, I worked with and was great friends with many Palestinians and Arab Israelis (there unfortunately is a difference), I went to protests, I donated blood, I donated food and money. I fucking hate Netanyahu with all my heart.

For two years I taught English at a low income school in Jerusalem where all my students were mizrahi jews (from Arab countries) whose families had been kicked out of various surrounding countries in the 20th century. When I spoke to their parents and grandparents they talked about Iran, Morroco, Egypt, Yemen, with such longing and they brought me the most delicious foods. (Two of my students were killed two weeks ago, kids, barely 18 now, much younger when I taught them, I remember them).

My great grandmother on my mom's side was born in Jerusalem and raised in Egypt until all Jews were expelled and she had to flee with my newborn grandfather. They ended up in Colombia because she spoke ladino (Jewish dialect that is close to Spanish) they were undocumented, without a nationality because Egypt had rejected them, they had to lie and pay for falsified documents in order to get a passport, I still have a Red Cross passport in my house with my grandfather's name that determines he has no home country.

My great grandparents on my dad's side were born and raised in Bielorrusia and had to escape with my newborn paternal grandfather from the progroms after they destroyed their shtetl, they tried to make it to the US but they wouldn't take any more Jews so they ended up in Colombia.

My great grandmother on my paternal side was born in Romania, at the age of 12 she got on a boat with her 15 year old cousin, not knowing where it would take them. Her parents had both died and antisemitism was on the rise. She was so afraid that they were going to send her back that she threw her passport (that said JEW in capital letters) into the sea when they arrived at the port of a country she had never heard of, to this day we don't know when her birthday was.

My maternal grandmother is Colombian, she was born and raised here, Catholic until she converted to marry my grandfather, and yet when I went looking up our family tree I found we came from Sephardic Jews that had been expelled from Spain almost 500 years ago by the inquisition.

There are less than 400 Jews in my city that homes over 4 million people. My synagogue has been closed since October 12th, our president has equated all of Israel with Nazism on multiple occasions in the last few weeks. The kids that go to our tiny Jewish school have stopped wearing the uniform so that they cannot be identified. Ours is one of the countries with the least amount of antisemitism in the world. Someone in my university saw my Magen David necklace and screamed at me to go back where I came from. I went online and saw countless posts telling Israelis to do the same.

I am Jewish, I am latina, I am gay. My story is complicated, my relationship with my community is complicated, my relationship with my country is complicated. My relationship with G-d is complicated, my relationship with Israel is incredibly complicated. My history is complicated.

I am Jewish. What does that mean?

#this is my story #jewish people are complicated #our stories are complicated #please reblog #judaism #jumblr #jewish #israel

181 notes · View notes

hmsindecision · 2 months

Note

I hope one day you realize how horrid bigotry is, and can look back on these days with shame and embarrassment, but also with pride how one became a better person. When the people who want to oppress us are done with trans people they'll go after bisexuality next, then lesbians and gays, then women. We need to stand together or they will push us back into the 1700s.

In order to become an adult you need to release this “us vs. them”, black and white, dichotomous vision of the world. It doesn’t exist. There is no cohesive “they” that I must bond with any ally I can in order to resist.

Do you really think that I have gone any period of time without suffering from systemic homophobia and misogyny? Do you really think that I am sitting from a place of privilege looking down at people who are “one rung below me on the oppression ladder”? What a childish way of thinking.

A large proportion of the homophobia and misogyny that I have experienced has been from people who identified themselves as on the left, as trans, and whose values in some ways align with my own. That really sucks. It really sucks that I have been verbally berated and called slurs by both conservatives and trans people alike. Those who believe that performatively being homophobic or anti-lesbian to me have varied values, religions, creed, and political beliefs. They are a deeply heterozygous group. People approaching my short haired wife to ask her for her pronouns and therefore implying that she is improperly signaling womanhood are the most frequent gender police I encounter.

Why is it that I must accept things like being called names for being exclusively same sex attracted? I by should I accept that because other people have been targeted by the same people who have targeted me?

Why is it my womanly duty to provide solidarity with people who tell me I deserve to be raped, beaten, my career destroyed, my friendships rescinded…. Because I don’t ascribe to their philosophical beliefs? I don’t believe in gender as a framework to be upheld. I hold gender in the same regard as capitalism or the divine right of kings. It is a system of oppression designed to place men over women. It has had loopholes in many societies, mostly to create a third sex for homosexual men. It operates differently in different societies. But I think it’s anti-woman and anti-human. To ask me to believe that someone has an inborn gender identity/gendered spirit is like asking me to believe that corporations are people, that God chose a king, or that the world is flat. There is simply no evidence for that to be true, because it would require there to be something that makes us men or women beyond biology.

There is not. Non-biological differences between men and women are purely socialized. If it isn’t inscribed on the X or Y chromosomes, it’s something you were taught. The clothes you wear, the way you act, the things you like, they are all influenced by the society you live in. The associations of colors, toys, interests, and other things to our sex assignation is partially arbitrary and party about subjugation. Women aren’t born loving makeup any more than serfs are born loving to serve.

I believe everyone should express their vision of themselves as they please. I hate the micro labels that are now applied to all aspects of appearance because people cannot conceive of human difference. I think that even things which I consider anti-self and anti-human can be things which adults do to themselves. If you need surgery or pills, then it isn’t about identity, it’s about fantasy. I understand the necessity of fantasy in an oppressive system.

But gender isn’t just a source of oppression against women. It is also fuel to create and sustain oppressors. That is part of why the anti-feminism of the trans movement feels so comfortable to people raised in patriarchy (all of us). Because the idea that we all have a muliplicity of gender identities is also about absolving men of thousands of years of terrorism and oppression against us XX chromosome havers. Why should I assume my oppressed has good intentions because of their clothing? Because they got surgery? Does that make a trans woman any safer than any other male under patriarchy? Or is that just a safe illusion so you don’t have to deal with the reality?

Even your trajectory in this ask—you think they started with trans people, then bi people are next? How are they going to go after bi people without going after gay people? Unless you mean just angry social opinions as opposed to systemic oppression? Then women last? Literally what fucking planet do you live on? I’m assuming you are American based on… this ask lmao… but…

They have already come for women. Abortion is illegal in many places. Rape is such a constant that we can’t even meaningfully address it. Teen girls are killing themselves over male violence just into puberty. Famous rapists and abusers are constantly fawned over. In my state, DV services are so taxed with women that last year they turned down over 50,000 asks for shelter in the statewide network.

50,000.

And my local LGBTQ community center has a ban of events that say they are for lesbians, or even AFAB people. Did you ever think that maybe *you* need to start showing some solidarity?

When it comes down to it, men always, always choose each other.

I’m doing the most radical thing I can think of, and choosing women every time.

I don’t hate you. But you sure are good at falling for propoganda. Are you wasting your time fighting feminists because it’s easier to attack women than to stand up to your oppressors?

I’m very proud of myself and the woman that I am, and the activism I do (which.. is not on tumblr). I hope you can find the things that make you deeply proud of yourself as an individual, and that you live in accordance with your own values.

#feminism #gender theory

90 notes · View notes

goldenchunkycat · 1 year

Text

The way she looks at me you | Chapter 1

- Pairing: Neteyam x Na'vi!Reader x Ao'nung x Lo'ak

Summary: Love isn't always reciprocated. You learn to live with heartbreak and move on to live your life, even if it's hard. But when you find comfort in someone unexpected, Neteyam starts to realize that he did have feelings for you. He was just to used to your love. But...is it too late ?

Warnings: IT'S TWOW SCENARIO BUT THEY ARE ALL AGED-UP (NETEYAM, AO'NUNG AND READER ARE 19, LO'AK IS 18) AND THERE'S NO WAR AT THE END, very clumsy/shy/socially awkward and naive reader, reader is a Na'vi but not a Metkayina nor an Omatikaya (OC Na'vi ? Like an ice Na'vi or something like that, she has a squirrel tail so her nicknames is 'Squirrel'), Neteyam is kinda mean in this one, blood, xenophobia, bullying, swear words, fight, angst, fluff too lol, smut

Chapter's warnings: Unrequited love, swear words, argument, reader is self-deprecating, bestfriend!Lo'ak needs its own warning, public humiliation, bad English (not proofread)

Taglist: @soxfix / @pwallettes / @arminsgfloll / @dazecrea / @annamarieisbae / @namioff / @nao-cchi / @tiddieshakeshownu / @yeosxxx / @miwackmn / @avadakadabra93 / @sopiasleeps / @itszzmoon / @todod0k1 / @almighty-raiden-shogunate / @dakotali / @findingourtreasure / @purplepursepaint / @artologia-blog1 / @sushibatebue / @dakotali

It started as a crush. You would look at him, at the way he was skipping by you on his Ikran's back, beautiful, proud, just like a warrior. Neteyam was the best match in the clan, and you were not the only one who agreed to this statement. So why would he look at you ? Stranger you. You were sure that he was something you could never have, you were just you.

Pretty 'you' who would craft and imagine new way to live, to improve everyone's life, adamant that progress and science was the future. Pandora was wonderful and the biodiversity too, so many possibilities, there was so much to discover ! But you were not a Omatikaya, you were not fitting in.

And yet, despite everything you thought and everything you said to Spider, your brother in arms and in misfortune, you were pretty well accommodated to the Na'vis way of life. You were not like him, you were not... wild. In fact, you were rather shy and silent, kind and attentive. And just like Spider, you waere a stray among the Sully family. They liked you, sure, but you weren't a part of their culture, even less than your brother.

So you learned their way, you tried to fit in. You tried to hunt; you ended up being the one hunted. You tried to dance; you ended up on the ground with half of the tent. You thought that maybe, with your knowledges about Pandora's biodiversity you could be a good healer; you almost poisoned someone. So why would someone like the mighty Neteyam look at someone like you ? Yeah, it would not happen any time soon, it would not happen at all. You would keep watching him from afar and imagine what your life would have been like if you were born 'more useful' - your words.

Moreover, you had been raised by the scientists/biologists before being entrusted to the Omatikaya, so some of their…traditions, were deeply fixed in you. The clothes, for example. You could not get used to the idea of running around half-naked and butt-naked when you have been taught to wear clothes since you were a child. All the more reason why you fit in even less than Spider who walked around shirtless all day long. You were 'too human' despite the fact that you were a Na'vi. The Omatikaya did not like to see you walking around their village in pants or t-shirts - you never wore anything else and Norm always made sure you had what you needed. It made you more...different.

So you slowly drifted away from the Sully and started to sleep in the Avatar's basement, at the lab, blaming your lack of self-confidence for losing your best-friend, Kiri. The last year was even worse, because the Sky People were back, and you could not help anyone.

"Oh Eywa, just go and talk to him ! It's honestly getting on my nerves. I can barely see you now, Spider says that you're hanging out at the lab when you should be with us !" Kiri growled, emphasizing on the word 'us' to let you know that she was disappointed in you and in your choices.

"What would you want me to say ? Oh, hi ! I'm that dumb girl who almost killed someone last week when she tried to cook , nice to meet you Oh! son of the Olo'eyktan, best hunter of his generation and best match of the clan !" you rambled at an incredible speed, kicking the air while laying on your back.

"Well, you should probably stop at 'Oh, hi !'." a voice said from behind you. A voice that the you two were very familiar with.

"Kiri, push me off the cliff, please." you begged your friend on your knees, wanting to get swallowed and disappear in the ground.

"Hum, I'm not about to do that. Face the consequences." Kiri wheezed, looking at her older brother as he sat on her left, at the other end of you.

"You know, he's good."

"What..?"

"The man who ate what you cooked. He's feeling better. You shouldn't blame yourself for something like that, he just has a weak stomach." Neteyam smiled, trying to reassure you, seing how distraught and uncomfortable you were around him.

"Oh. Yeah. Good."

And it was like that every time. When Neteyam would come talk to you, you would blush and stutter, not being able to form a whole sentence. You would end up listening to whatever conversation was going on and quietly disappear without anyone knowing. According to Lo'ak who absolutely loved making fun of you, you were 'a lost cause'. And you knew that you were a lost cause, you just could not do anything about it.

"Bro, why don't you just tell her ?"

"What ?"

"It's mean, you know that she's head over heels for you. We all know it." Lo'ak rolled his eyes, annoyed at his older brother for acting like he did not know what he was talking about. "I don't know what's going on in your head but if you don't like her you should just tell her."

"Yeah."

Neteyam did not like being reprimanded by his younger brother but even he could tell that he was unfair with you. He was nice, just like he was to anyone else, but he should not, knowing well that you had feelings for him. He was far from stupid, he always noticed the way your freckles would glow whenever he would smile at you, the way you would stumble over your own feet when he would help you climb a rock. He thought that you were cute. But that's it. He felt bad for not being able to reciprocate your feelings, but he was not in love with you. He had to take care of his family, he had to improve his skills in order to become a great leader, just like his father.

The boy knew that he had to talk to you, and the sooner the better. But he couldn't bring himself to break your heart.

"We don't want her around here."

"Please..."

"With all due respect, Toruk Makto, she's not one of us. Your family decided to raise her, she's your responsibility."

Behind the curtain, your face went pale. You felt like you had a lump in your throat. You knew all of this. That you were not an Omatikaya, that you were basically a stranger who was lucky enough to find shelter chez the Sully's family. And yet hearing it from someone else was hard. But what hurts you the most was the fact that Jake was pleading to the new chief to let you here. He did not wanted you around anymore.

"We can't take her, she has nothing to do with what's happening, she doesn't deserve it !"

Silence arose in the tent and you knew. The Olo'eyktan decision was final. Now, you had nowhere to go, no family, no friends, and no news of Spider. You were going to be alone, maybe that was your fate after all. Maybe the Sullys had only delayed the inevitable…

You lowered her head and walked on, your steps a little faster each time. In the distance, you heard Jake's voice calling out your name but it was too late, you were already gone.

"You don't know where she could have gone ?"

"No, and I already checked the lab. Norm says she hasn't been back there since…what happened with Spider." Kiri interjected, her voice growing smaller as she continued her statement.

Jake hugged his daughter before taking his head in his hands and sighed, "This is my fault, I should have been more careful, less…desperate."

Watching his brother pacing back and forth, the oldest of the siblings finally spoke with a detached tone while giving wooden beads to his mother who was sitting next to him, "She would have stayed here anyway. She had to find out one way or another. We gotta pack."

"Are you fucking serious ?! Do you hear how insane you sound ?!" Lo'ak snarled and walked briskly over to his older brother who immediately stood up. Their father stepped in between the two boys and their mother put down what she was busy with, standing up, causing silence in the dwelling.

"She's not one of our own."

"But… I like her… I don't want her to stay here !" Tuk cried with tears in her eyes, frowning at her mother. "And you !" She directed her angry gaze at Neteyam, "I'll never understand how she could fall in love with a skxawng like you !"

The eight-year-old girl rushed out of the tent crying, ignoring the calls of her family members. Kiri looked at her older brother with disappointment and at her mother with a hint of sadness before walking away to look out for her sister, leaving only her brothers and parents in the tent.

"Just because you're afraid of what's going on between you doesn't mean you have the right to talk about her like that, skxawng."

Before he could even be reprimanded by his father, Lo'ak had stomped out of the tent, deliberately shoving his brother in the process. Jake sighed and rubbed his face, facing his mate.

"Neytiri, I know I am asking a lot from you. To flee, to leave your people and your home. But no matter the physical differences between Squirrel and us, she is still a Na'vi. We have raised her since she was in her cradle, you have seen her grow, you have taught her to speak, to walk. Just because she has more fur on her tail or slightly larger ears doesn't mean she's not one of us. She's in the same boat as all of our children."

"Why leaving her here, then ?" Neytiri hesitated, knowing full well that she had been harsh in her words. It was true. She had raised her as her own daughter, why treat her any differently than Kiri ? Especially since her younger daughters saw her as an older sister. It did not matter how many days and nights she had spent in the lab with Spider - that is, more than she had spent with the Sully - she was still a member of their family. But Jake wasn't entirely honest, she wanted to hear the truth from him.

"Because she's different !" Jake raised his voice in frustration. He knew those were the words Neytiri wanted to hear, and he had finally said them. "It's just that- We could have saved her a life of running away because she's not like us. They would never have been able to know that she was with us. I wanted to spare her…"

"My Jake… You are good. She'll go with us. As for you…" she turned to her older son who shook uncomfortably under her piercing gaze, and then continued, venom in her voice, "That's not how I raised you. Your brother is right, no matter what happens between you two, you have no right to talk about her like that. A woman in love is not a foolish woman, she deserves your respect. Go get her."

"Yes mom..."

Lo'ak could recognize those cryings with his eyes closed. He was so used to it. After getting mad at his brother he had gone back to the place where everything had changed. The place where everything had been turned upside down many times. He knew that you were going to be here. Where your brother was taken from you. And he was right. So when he arrived, he let the sound of the weepings guide him.

"Hey, crybaby."

"Leave me alone…" you whined, the words coming out of your mouth unintelligibly, causing Lo'ak to let out the laughter he was desperately trying to suppress. "Stop laughing at me !"

"Alright...crybaby."

What he said caused another round of tears and snot, which made him laugh even harder. You really were a funny person, no matter what you did. So knowing that his brother had so little regard for you and your feelings made the young man's blood boil. He sat beside you and decided to keep quiet, choosing to contemplate his surroundings. This broken pod, this damaged machine. This place must have had a lot of value in his parents' eyes, and it had taken on even more value when these Avatars had run away with Spider. Because he was not able to protect all of you.

"He won't come home again…" you muttered, stroking the grass at your feet and hiding your face in your bushy tail.

Lo'ak looked at your small frame sitting in the middle of the clearing and opened his mouth several times, trying to find the right words. He knew that no matter the years you had spent by their side, never would one of them replace Spider. Part of him resented his mother for not fully accepting you two, but part of him was glad it had happened. Because through it, you two orphans had created a bond that no one understood. But now, the Sky People teared your brother away from you and if it was not enough, his family was going to abandon you.

"He will. I don't know how but Spider will come back. I don't care if I have to go get him, I will. When I'm old enough to do what I want, I'll bring Spider back to you."

"Pfff-" you sniffed, resting her head on your knees as you weakly laughed at Lo'ak, "You're too scared of your mother to run away."

"What are you talking about ?!" Lo'ak said indignantly as he rushed toward you, tackling you on the ground "Take back what you said !"

"Skxawng !"

While the two friends were having fun fighting - or rather being beaten in the case of a certain someone - Neteyam, who had just arrived, had stopped a few steps away from the scene, watching them fooling around. Her idiot brother - his words - had quickly found her when he was the reason he had just been reprimanded by their mother, what right did he have to enjoy himself ?

"Lo'ak ! You know very well that you have no right to be here." Neteyam interrupted them, making his presence known as he approached the two disheveled-looking young adults.

You pushed Lo'ak from above you and tried to stand up. Tried. Since your strength had not moved Lo'ak an inch. You glared at him when you saw his condescending look and gently sank your fangs into his shoulder, effectively making him push himself off of you.

"You're insane !"

"You should have had moved ! And I didn't even bite hard !"

"You should have had more strength !"

"You want me to bite you again ?!"

"You kitten !"

"Argh ! Take it back !" you rushed after the boy who ran away, past Neteyam, leaving him alone in the clearing as he watched, amused, your retreating forms. He had never seen this side of you. It was…funny.

"Well…" Neteyam shrugged, following the two children young adult to go back home.

Watching the Sully bid farewell to their friends and former clan members was difficult for you. It reminded you that no one would come to say goodbye. Because no matter what relationship you had with the Sullys, with Jake, who was the leader, you had never been accepted by the Omatikaya. You were too different.

Your skin was not blue like theirs, it was more of a blue-gray, your eyes were not yellow or amber, again, they were grayish, and your tail was unlike those of the forest people, it was extremely bushy. All those differences, as well as the mystery of your origin had created a mistrust towards you that you had not been able to dissipate as the years had passed. It was not for lack of trying though. But even your behavior was different from that of the Na'vi women. They were proud and talented in at least one field, never hesitating to speak up their opinions. You were sure that you had none of these qualities.

"Are you done with packing ?" Kiri asked as she walked towards you, a pained and jaded expression on her face.

"Yes, for a little while now, your mother helped me." you smiled at your best friend, gently stroking the Ikran's head who was following his rider like a shadow. "I thought that…maybe…you were going to leave me here…"

Kiri remained silent, not knowing what to say. She did not want to lie and let you believe that your family was planning on taking you when they had chose to run away, but she couldn't bear to see that embarrassed little smile on your face.

"You can't live without us, you can't even fish." Lo'ak said as he shoved your shoulder, causing you to crash into Kiri who grunted in displeasure. "Whoops, I didn't think you couldn't remain standing up either."

"Whoops, I didn't think you couldn't remain standing up either." you repeated in a high-pitched and mocking tone while rolling your eyes.

Lo'ak grabbed you and headlocked you, rubbing your scalp until the only thing you could feel was a burning sensation.

"Hey- Hey! Don't use my secret move on me !" you complained as you tried to get out of his grip, clawing at his forearms while trying to sink your fangs into his skin. Playfully, obviously.

But Lo'ak was used to your ways, so he had made sure to put his arm as far away from your little canines as possible. "You shouldn't have taught me that then." he laughed out loud, continuing his torture on your helpless body, while Kiri watched what was going on with a smile.

"It was to defend yourself from the bullies ! I'm not a bully, let go of me skxawng !"

"Kids." a firm voice caught the attention of the group of three. You turned your heads at the same time and were greeted by Neytiri's stern gaze. "Behave, you still represent the Toruk Makto."

Lo'ak quickly let go of his hostage and looked around, pretending to be innocent under your outraged gaze. Trying to make yourself very small, you nodded towards Neytiri and preferred to move on the other side of Kiri, far from the young man who was abusing you. Before leaving you discreetly but strongly pulled his tail and moved quickly away from him, sticking your tongue out as you did so. Gesture which did not go unnoticed by the female warrior's sharp eyes, who chose to turn a blind eye and who smiled as she leaved to return to her mother. The three troublemakers decided to sit in silence, their mounts not far behind.

"By the way, aren't you going to say goodbye ?"

"Already done." Kiri shrugged, fiddling with the end of her shawl that had been offered to her by you on a cold day.

"I don't want to."

"Just say you don't have any." Kiri laughed and shoved his shoulder, making you laugh as you tried to hide your face behind your hand.

"Dumbass."

"Moron."

"What am I hearing ? Insults ?"

Neteyam approached his brother and sister, Tuk walking happily beside him, busy eating a fruit her grandmother had given her. 'An exception', apparently. When she saw you, her sister at heart, she rushed into your arms, stuffing the sticky fruit into Neteyam's hands, who laughed softly while he was screaming in his mind in indignation.

Opening your arms wide, you welcomed the little girl with a tight embrace, blowing gently and affectionately on her ears, a genuine smile on your lips.

"I'm so glad you can come with us ! I don't know where we're going but I'm sure that there will be lots of new things and places to discover, it will be amazing !"

"At least one of us is happy about this." Kiri rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time today.

Smiling, you opened your mouth but suddenly froze, your gaze slowly turning to the boy who had joined you. Your freckles suddenly started to glow as you tried to cover your face behind your fuzzy tail, effectively hiding yourself and Tuk who just beamed, happy to be able to touch the tail that she liked so much. Neteyam's smiled widened and he chuckled, taking a sit next to you, sitting closer in purpose. He loved seing your face glow, you were cute. On the other side, the two siblings were trying really hard to muffle their laughing at seing the elder girl plead for help with her big round eyes. Lo'ak tried to talk only to choke on his own breath by dint of containing his laughter.

Kiri smiled and eventually asked her older brother, "Dad didn't told you were we are going ?"

"No. I really tried to worm the information out of him but he won't tell me."

"Ugh, it's so annoying." Kiri huffed before laying and side-hugging you, "Thanks Eywa you're here."

You loosened up a bit and laid on the tight embrace of Kiri, thanking Eywa that you had someone like her to take care of you. Funny brother number one, good looking brother number two and cute little sister number three were just a bonus. After all, Kiri was the first who approached you. Out of curiosity, sure, but still the first.

"Are y'all ready ?" Jake asked as he got on his Ikran's back, his actions soon followed by his family members.

"No." Kiri complained despite knowing that it wouldn't change the situation.

Her father turned a deaf ear and took off, waving one last time to the people watching him from below. They all looked longingly at the mountains that had protected and sheltered them. They flew over the forest and remembered the places where they had played, the childhood they had enjoyed. But it had all been taken away by something Jake knew all too well, human greed. Now they had to find refuge elsewhere. Far from everything they had ever known.

As you reached the shore, you watched, saddened, the looks on the family's faces. Your gaze turned to your best friend who had tearful eyes, sorrow clear on her face as she seemed to say goodbye at the forest one last time. Lo'ak, back straight, did not seem to be hurting as much as the rest of his family. You could see that he was moved, but you would not blame him for not mourning a place where people had been so mean and distant to him. Conversely, the expression on Neteyam's face surprised you. He had an iron grip on his mount's equipment and his jaw was clenched. He watched his home disappear out of the corner of his eye and you could have sworn you saw his eyes shining with unshed tears. It was hard for them, of course. But it was even harder for their mother, who had lived here longer than any of them. She just looked away, refusing to believe that this was a farewell. Jake, like you, frowned at the sad scenery that was playing out before him. But it was his role. A father had to protect his family.

You spent days and nights flying over the landscapes of Pandora. Mountains, deserts, coasts, oceans. You had spent nights huddled around the fire in the hope of warming up, after telling each other stories of adventures each had experienced - Tuk's were the most amusing, while Neytiri's were the most fascinating and enriching. They told of the adventures of a warrior, when her clan was fighting against the sky people, when she had ridden the big Thanator. When she told her adventures, you could not help but look at her with shining eyes. Neytiri was strong and formidable, an admirable person, indeed. You could not help but look up to her, you were so different.

After spending nights crying in silence, hoping no one would notice you snuggled up in your hide, and days dozing on the back of your Ikran, nearly falling into the infinite water below you, you were proud to say you had crossed 'mountains and tides' to get here. At this place where Jake wanted them to go. You had crossed an imposing coral reef, with natural pools and strange inhabitants, and then flew around the village to alert everyone of your presence. You were not to be seen as enemies. At least, that's what you thought, after your strange parade.

You and the Sullys ordered your Ikrans to land on the edge of a beach, facing the largest tent and everyone who had gathered to see who dared to trespass on their village. On wobbly legs, you stepped onto the ground and, immediately, your eyes widened at the feel of the sand beneath your feet, your tail wagging like a happy cat's behind you. It was the first time you had touched the strange gritty thing under your feet. Of course, the Sully kids often went exploring, but whenever you strayed too far from the lab, you turned around, refusing to go any further. So, before leaving the forest, you had never seen a beach and you had never touched sand.

"Warm..."

"I would rather say hot." Lo'ak whined as he followed you, stopping at your right, Neteyam right next to him while Kiri stood on your other side.

"Well, get used to it, it's our home now. I guess." Kiri whispered, eyeing the others, just like you, mentally taking notes of everything that made them different from her friend and her family.

Their tails, their hands, even their clothes. Everything was different from what you all were used to. But you two were far too tired to enjoy it. Especially now that you were surrounded, and the other Na'vis did not look happy.

The crowd parted to let two young boys who were probably your age past. They passed Jake and Neytiri without even greeting them - not that they cared as they were too busy trying to calm the crowd - and headed to Neteyam's side, not even trying to hide their hostility. The two Sully respectfully greeted the other two who merely walked behind them, glaring at their wagging tails. You stifled a laugh in the palm of your hand at the sight of Neteyam's surprised expression. It was obvious that these boys had not come here with the idea of making friends. To your dismay, this little noise was enough to attract the attention of the taller boy, who frowned at the sight of you. He nudged his friend's side, pointing with his head at your imposing bushy tail.

The two boys snickered and approached your distressed form, who had round eyes, like a deer in the headlights. The three Sully watched the scene unfold in slow motion, ready to pounce on them if they bothered you; the taller boy reached for your extra appendage, ignoring your obvious discomfort, but just as he was seconds away from grabbing it, a girl appeared, smacking his hand and scolding him.

Lo'ak relaxed and quietly approached you, noticing that you had wrapped your tail around your hips like a belt. He took one last look at the trio before paying attention to what was happening in front of him. The leader of the clan arrived and each of the Sully's greeted him respectfully, the boys receiving a glare from Neytiri who silently told them to behave.

"Tonowari." Jake greeted the leader, solemnly, trying to be friendly despite the urge of his situation.

"Jake Sully." Tonowari greeted back, nodding to Neytiri, acknowledging her presence. "What brings you here ?"

"I come to ask for asylum for me and my family."

The rest of the conversation was just background noise for you, who were clutching your tail tightly in your hands, looking a few times behind your back at the three young adults. Your gaze met several times that of the boy with the bun. You could swear he had not looked away from you since the beginning, as you felt a piercing gaze on the back of your head. Repeating to yourself to ignore him, you closed your eyes tightly and accidentally bumped into Lo'ak, who looked at you, confused, before bumping back into you. Frowning, you pushed him a little harder, earning a glare from him as he suppressed his urge to pull your furry ears for fear of being severely reprimanded by his parents. So he contented himself with looking at the satisfied expression on your face, relieved to see you release your hold on your tail.

"-they're different from us." a woman said, bypassing Jake and Neytiri to examine Tuk's slender tail, before striding over to Kiri, grabbing her hand and looking at her five fingers with what looked like disgust. "They have demon blood…"

Kiri forcibly removed her hand from hers, clearly displeased. The pregnant woman overtook you and grabbed Lo'ak's hand, putting a show in front of her people to show his fingers, humiliating him publicly, under the helpless look of his brothers and sisters.

"Me too ! Look, Ronal, look at my hand ! Five fingers !" Jake raised his hand high, using himself as an example.

"Um… And besides, you brought… a pet ? A distraction ?" the woman directed her gaze at your small silhouette next to Lo'ak, who, under the pressure of the stares, tried to hid behind him. "What's that ? What's that tail going to be used for, cleaning up ?"

Humiliated, the target of the mockeries, you, felt your face heat up and your freckles light up. Knowing full well that what Ronal was waiting for was a reaction from one of them to justify her refusal to host you all, you remained silent and bit your lip, lowering your eyes so that no one would see your eyes glistening with tears.

You were sensitive. Your relationships with your peers had not always been peaceful. There was a time when just a reproachful look could make you cry. All the more reason why your friendship with Lo'ak had surprised many. The boy only teased you all day long, laughing at the way your tail would ruffle when you were upset. But, thanks to him, you had also made tremendous progress. But perhaps, in this village you would regress. You were sure of it considering the turn of events.

Feeling Lo'ak move next to her, you looked up at him to see a frown on his face, as he glared at the chief's wife. Knowing full well he was about to do or say something stupid, you grabbed his tail, as you were so used to do when you wanted to warn him about something, or prevent him from doing something stupid. Apparently, Neteyam had the same idea because his hand landed a few milliseconds later on yours. You two looked at each other briefly, and then you quickly pulled your hand out from under Neteyam's. Now you had another reason to be embarrassed. But this time, instead of holding back your tears, you had to hold back your screams of joy. You had just touched your crush's hand, it was a memorable moment, unforgettable. It had not taken much to divert your attention from the laughs of the other Na'vi.

By the time you had recovered from the physical contact with your best friend's brother, the tension in the air had increased - by the time Neytiri had spoken, and then subsided as Ronal and Tonowari gave in to Jake's request. Blinking once and then twice, completely lost as you were just coming out of your own little world, you were greeted by the sight of the girl who had scolded the two boys, smiling as she asked you to follow her.

Following the march, the family moved towards the tents which were a bit further from the main tent. Kiri and you couldn't help but look around, ignoring the looks of others - or not being aware of it in your case, amazed by what was in front of you. Stretches of water as far as the eye could see, racks filled with fish instead of meat, fish that none of you had ever seen before. Everything was strange and different, yet so fascinating.

"Maybe after we settle in we could go exploring…?" you asked softly to Kiri who nodded.

"I'm coming with you." Lo'ak turned around and said, slowing down so he could be at your level.

"You're not invited." you answered, sticking your tongue out at him while grabbing Kiri's arm, using her as a shield the moment Lo'ak had taken a step in your direction.

The three young adults tried their best to stifle their antics for fear of incurring Jake's wrath. Minutes later, Tuk joined them teasing her big brother with her sisters. Gradually, the volume began to increase and the shoving became harder while Tuk enjoyed jumping on the bouncing net path. They attracted the attention of villagers, which in turn attracted the attention of Jake, who turned at full speed in their direction, already preparing to scold them. Neytiri stopped him before he could open his mouth, putting her hand on his forearm and shaking her head.

"They are young, they still have a lot to learn and now even more. Don't prohibit them from having fun."

Jake fell silent and watched his little family from afar, watching them trying to stifle their laughter at the sight of Lo'ak getting his tail pulled by Tuk, who had made it her duty to defend you. He smiled softly and continued on his way, telling himself that some amusement after this long journey could not hurt anyone.

Neytiri nodded to herself, satisfied with her mate's choice. As she was about to follow him into the tent, her gaze fell on her eldest son who was at her right, having followed them closely throughout the journey. He stood apart from his siblings, watching the scene unfold from afar. Frowning, she put her hand on his shoulder and invited him to come forward slightly.

"Aren't you going to play with them ?"

Neteyam shrugged and looked away, following his father. But the last look he gave them did not escape from his mother's sharp eyes. A look of envy, and perhaps of jealousy…

To be continued...

#atwow x you #neteyam x reader #lo'ak x reader #ao'nung x reader #atwow smut #avatar the way of water #neteyam smut #lo'ak smut #ao'nung smut #you landed on pandora #avatar imagine #x reader #atwow x reader #the way she looks at you #atwow

494 notes · View notes