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theswedishpajas · 11 months

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Do you have any songs that you like and recommend? Related to Beetlejuice or not! 🪲 🧃 🎶

Ooooo!!!!!!!!!!

I’m gonna preface this by saying that I like to listen to a lot of random music with varying degrees of adult content and if you’re a minor or not comfortable with that stuff, please don’t take my recommendations at face value and keep yourself safe and happy. A lot of the music I listen to gets really vulgar and dark and often touch on very existential or crude topics as those are the things my brain latches onto due to my own mental health.

I have so much music I really enjoy but it’s so hard to pin it down cus I either love every song from one band/artist almost equally (and extremely much) or I love random specific songs but to a lesser degree…!

I’m a really big fan of Will Wood in general, prolly my alltime favorite artist!! I don’t even really know an album I would recommend tho as all of them are so very different!!!

It’s kinda on a spectrum of depression and unhinged to somewhat okay and pretty calm, with his first album being on the unhinged&depression side and then in order until his latest album they slowly become more calm and healthier but still sorta struggling? That’s how I think I’d describe his music!!

The topics in the songs are very existencial a lot and get really dark so that’s something to look out for if that’s not gonna work out for you tho!!!!!

For a beginner listener I guess I might recommend the Self-Ish album, mainly because that’s the first album by him that I listened to, but also cus it’s really energetic and fun in it’s existencialism, it’s just kinda crazy more than anything else-!

Other than that…

*flips through youtube real quick to see what I like cus my memory doesn’t work right*

OH OF COURSE

Now, my taste in music is kinda fucked up-

But I’ll give a (much smaller than expected) list of songs (ESPECIALLY WITH THE MUSIC VIDEO) that I really enjoy for that exact reason:

Bring Me All Of Your Teeth by Hot Dad

O b l i v i o n by Ctrl Ult Delete

I am realizing I don’t wanna call songs I like fucked up without them being very specific cus idk what’s normal or not and I don’t want anybody to think a song they like is weird in a bad way or anything but I feel like these two are okay to call kinda fucked up!!! (Affectionate)

UHHHHHH

Man, I really don’t have any good grasp on anything I enjoy at all unless it’s a special interest???

I’d be happy to share the playlists I listen to the most if anybody wants to listen to them cus idk what else I’d actively recommend???

#ask #rambles #music #I am a goddamn mess don’t look at me lmao #I admire you humoring me and my weird brain and indulging in my very strange interests!!!#this lil wrinkly lump of mine which is also my entire being in the realest sense is all over the place all the time #there was literally a time I completely genuinely listened to all the Clowncore albums on repeat for a month or two-!#my gray matter blob is just going wild-!!#I literally have no idea about anything at any point unless I am staring at it or am asked a very specific question #idk what I enjoy man. I’m just a lil dude with autism and ADHD and suddenly I know all the songs by a random fucked up artist-!!!#thank you for the ask #I know I didn’t really answer very elegantly but I never do with things so I guess this was the outcome that was expected maybe-?#i talk so much and never about the topic at hand and suddenly I’ve recommended a whole-ass thing instead of being specific #I can never tell what the rules are for questions like this but technically the Self-Ish album contains songs?? (and only songs ofc)#so I guess I didn’t answer it WRONGLY technically??#idk man idk #I would recommend beetlejuice music in general but my brain is taking that very literally and I’m not about to ask-#-people to go check out Vieze Jack cus that doesn’t feel very responsible even if I do absolutely love that gross babie of a man #it’s all dutch and I understand nothing but there IS a dedicated person out there who uploads his music videos with english subs #and I also have a friend who helps me translate when I need to (everyone say thank you to Kerenitychan!!!)#he started as a beetlejuice street/stage/whatever performer and later used it to make a name for himself #he has very weird toonjuice vibes and I love him so much-!!!#he once did the ice nucket challenge by pissing into a bucket and pouring it over a girl (but not really) and he’s so fucked up #bucket*#I love him so much #but he’s been trying to slowly change his brand. ge’s still got strong juice vibes but he’s gotten a more BJ-adjacent vibe now instead of-#-the full stripes and dark purple around the eyes and whoever does his hair is better now and stuff and I think his budget has just-#-improved over-all and idk he looks nice idk #ANYWAYS I NEED TO STOP RAMBLING ABOUT VJ LMAO #I should try to find my fanart of him and post it on here cus I haven’t yet since it’s not new art OTL

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pitchsidestories · 8 months

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God, it's brutal out here II Aitana Bonmati x Reader

barcelona women masterlist

"How do I look? What if I mess up my speech and people misunderstood the message?', Aitana asked you, licking her lips nervously and playing with her already done hair.

With the most soothing voice you replied:" First of all, you look beautiful as always, love. Second of all, don't forget to breathe, the audience will understand what you're trying to say."

"And I can look at you while I'm delivering my speech.", she reminded herself, regaining her inner confidence and calmness.

"Exactly, I'll be there the whole time."

"In a sea full of men, I can easily spot you.", the midfielder remarked while hugging you from the side, resting her head on your shoulder.

Because of your injury you stayed at home in Barcelona, watching your girlfriend and your national team succed through the tournament.

The drama surrounding the coach Vilda was only bringing the players closer together, making the team stronger than ever before.

On the final game, Spain against England you were in the stadium, seeing Aitana and her teammates lifting up the trophy.

Now, you would be watching her being named Europes player of the year by the UEFA. Well deserved in your opinion.

You knew how much work she put into the last season at Barcelona and that she had an amazing tournament.

Even as her girlfriend, you sometimes were in awe of her playing style. So to you, nothing made more sense than her winning this award.

Aitana, however, let go of your hug, bringing you back into the dressing room in Monaco where the award ceremony would take place.

There was still a glint of nervousness in her eyes when they searched for yours. You smiled softly as you gave her a confident nod, “Come on, love. Just get out there and get what you deserve.“

Your girlfriend wrinkled her nose, “Do I?“ “Don’t even question it. You know you do.“, you laughed, knowing that Aitana just wanted to hear it again from you.

She blew out a breath as if to say that she gave in and you were obviously right when the dressing room door opened.

One woman who was taking care of the organization part of this ceremony asked politely: "Miss Bonmati, are you ready?" "Yes, I am.", Aitana replied, her excitement was not audible anymore, only visible to your eyes as she tried to smooth out her sparkly dark dress.

A few minutes later they announced her as the winner of the female UEFA Player of the season.

With confident steps the spanish midfielder went on to the stage, knowing all too well what she would do with her moment in the spotlight.

During her speech, she paused for a moment, before continuing, letting her heart speak the words she wanted to say the most tonight:

"I would like to speak a bit about what has happened. I think as a society we shouldn’t allow abuses of power in a work relationship, as well as a lack of respect. So from my teammate Jenni to all the women who suffer the same, we are with you."

You could not help but be moved by the sentences your girlfriend said out loud in a room which needed to hear it more than ever.

But you could also tell Aitanas relief when she returned to her seat, immediately taking your hand in hers to watch the cerenomy continue.

She beamed as you whispered into her ear:" I'm so proud of you, the men in this room but also of the world needed to hear this and I love you so much." "I love you too.", the midfielder mouthed back, not letting your hand go.

Meanwhile Sarina Wiegman received her award for coach of the year. The dutch woman ended her speech with a dedication, you personally found very admirable considering her team lost against spain in the final:

"I would like to dedicate this award to the Spanish team. This team deserves to be celebrated and deserves to be listened to, and I'm going to give them again a big applause and I hope you will join [me]."

Immediately you joined the applause and so did the other guests. You could tell Aitana was clearly moved by the female coaches words, showing a female solidarity within the women's football community.

At the after party she thanked Sarina Wiegman for her speech in person.

Silently you observed the hug between those two small women, giving them a moment of peace before their fight would continue in the following days, maybe weeks.

But before that you promised to dance the night away with Aitana because her achievements should be celebrated.

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #barca femeni #woso #jenni hermoso #espwnt #sarina wiegman #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barcelona women #futfem #spain wnt #espwnt x reader

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gregolwman · 2 years

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"Yeah? Well, my god has a hammer!" - Nick Fury , Secret Invasion

Kept you waiting , huh ? I know , I know . Not exactly endearing myself to the anyone , but that's fine . Still it has been a few days since my last incoherent essay regarding whatever topic wormed itself into my brain . So ladies and germs , I came today to rectify that situation . Before that , let's hear a word from our public relations department . As a disclaimer , I do not make this post regarding Technoblade as a means to gain attention , this blog exists just for shit posting ideas and my own personal opinions and today's topic is regarding him . Personally , I believe in the idea that as fans , we should strive to keep Alex's dream even after his tragic death in June and this is my contribution to that effort . If you don't like it , don't buy it . That is all . Now back to the show .

So a couple of days ago , I was reading through a couple of Thor comics and eventually I make my way to Jason Aaron's work , specifically his run of the Mighty Thor when Jane Foster was the one wielding the hammer . At some point I get to the War Thor business , when Volstagg picked up the displaced hammer of Ultimate Comics Thor and became the God of the Bloodstorm , then my mental gears start churning . Out of curiosity I started looking for the character's concept art and then it all made sense . For those of you not convinced or too unmotivated to open your search engine of choice , here is a photo of the design .

To me at least it kinda screamed Technoblade , but then I started thinking to myself what could be done to this design in order to make it into a fitting tribute to the Blood God . Now , I am not an artist nor do I claim I can draw anything even remotely to the level needed to do both the original design and the idea I have in my head any justice , so I will also add some bits and pieces that came out as close as possible to what I intended .

Obviously I went for the Pigglin Technoblade since that's the one that the version of the titular character that I personally enjoy . What isn't quite obvious however to the casual reader is the weird robot arm sketch . This is my attempt to immortalise Alex's struggle against cancer , something many people this day and age have to deal it . It was mentioned that he would have been amputated if the doctors didn't find an alternative treatment plan and it seemed like something that I needed to add . It is just my personal preference and if people want to not avoid it , then I have nothing against them since I understand it might be a sensitive topic . Anyways , I also used a hoofed hand design in order to lean into the hog design and I added the small horns from Old King Thor's helmet design in order to represent Technoblade's crown .

Normally , I would have avoided posting this whole affair if not for one key detail . Today some representatives from the Foundation Kika came by my housing complex and they went door by door in order to convince people to sign up for a charity event that was happening tonight . It is meant to fund the continued efforts of combating cancer in children . The fact that these kids have to go through such ordeals and the very likely possibility that they might not make it even to their twenties just made me decide to push my inhibitions aside and write this . Screw cancer . What better way to celebrate Technoblade's existence than to dedicate my idea today to a noble cause . I am doing my part . If you are curious , I also added a hyperlink to their site , where details regarding next year's charity marathon are explained . Fair warning , the site is in Dutch , as such you should probably keep Google Translate nearby .

Anyways , to end this sales pitch , I am willing to part with the idea in the hopes that someone , someday will create something worthy out of my ramblings . Today's offer is on the house . Cheers .

This has been Greg for Owlman's Previously Owned Ideas . We do not advise you to post all your secrets on a Tumblr post , you fool , you moron . We also do no refunds .

#technoblade #fanart #sorry for the tmi #fuck cancer #ramblings

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marwankenzarisgaylittleearring · 3 years

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“I’d like to end up as a tree”

Marwan kenzari (31) won a gold calf last year for his role in the movie Wolf. As of next week he is to be seen in Bloedlink (/reckless), opening’s act of the Dutch film festival. “It’s not my place to say I’m good.”

Bloedlink

“Acting offers the chance to become well acquainted with the complexities of being human. The Moroccan kick-boxer Majid in the movie Wolf had a fascinating interior life. His character was even easier to understand when he said nothing at all - I don’t think I’ve ever had as little lines in a movie. Rico in Bloedlink is completely different. He accidentally finds himself swept up in criminal business, but he’s actually just someone who’s had a whole slew of bad luck. In the movie his character undergoes a few very surprising U-turns. In my portrayal of him, I interpret all those different sides as honest, I find that interesting. In the movie, Rico does some paradoxical things, but he means all of them. Of course that’s simply not possible. That’s what makes him fascinating and tragic.”

Journey

“If I’m a good actor? That’s not my place to say. Sometimes you do the most interesting things you think are worthless in the moment. A movie is a collaborative journey, which, in the case of Wolf, I underwent with director Jim Taihuttu among others. Although I secretly did think during shooting: this will be fun. Wolf is an honest movie. The kick-boxing, the hits to the body, very little of that is pretend. Not that everything should be real in a movie, but this story required that. At a certain point I felt: this could be something really fresh in Dutch cinema. And it was.”

Peanut Butter

“Ever since that role, which I trained for quite extensively, I’ve found it increasingly important to stay in shape. It wasn’t a complete transformation; even beforehand I would exercise six times a week. But now I’m slightly addicted, yeah. It makes you mentally stronger, too. If I’ve been training on a Sunday at 7 am and then at 8 am I’m outside again, showered, refreshed and in shape while the rest of the city’s asleep, I’m 1-0 ahead. Scratch that: 10-0. I pay attention to my nutrition as well. Bread for example gives false energy. But I’m not always so strict. I get plenty of enjoyment from a good, white slice of bread with calvé peanut butter. And then fold it over, don’t cut it! You shouldn’t cut a sandwich, everyone knows that. Then you miss the first bite.”

Toneelgroep Amsterdam

“After the acting academy in Maastricht I was immediately invited to Toneelgroep Amsterdam. I was with them for three years, but found my attentions pulled towards film during that period. When the actors from TGA are - rightfully - expected to be fully available. We “broke up”, though that sounds too serious, with full, mutual agreement. I see the company as family and will be playing in Angels in America at the end of the month, in New York. Director Ivo van Hove has been very important for my development. I admire his knowing exactly what he wants, but also his ability to be unsure and searching, and to be able to be vulnerable about that. But I have to be fair to myself. I’m 31 now, and these are my most important years in film. While I hope to be an even better stage-actor when I’m fifty. I’m slightly further ahead in film than on stage. That development is tougher, needs more time and possibly total dedication. Stage is the motor in the actor’s car; film is a different muscle. But if Ivo calls me in two, or ten or forty years, he’ll be the first stage director I’ll say yes to.”

Pierre Bokma

“As the son of Tunisian parents in the Hague painters-quarter I didn’t come into automatic contact with theatre. As a kid I was mostly interested in football, the emotion you see on a player’s face when he scores - fantastic. At a certain point I realised that movies can affect you the same way, even though you know it’s fake. That’s the magic of acting. Through contacts I ended up with De Nieuwe Amsterdam, an in-between theatre course for teens for whom the leap to theatre school was perhaps a bit too big. I learned everything there: playwrights, Dutch actors, repertoire. You’re also taught which acting schools exist. And I thought: where did Pierre Bokma go to school? And Fedja van Huêt? That was Maastricht. It also appealed to me that they implemented Bijltjesdag: you might still be sent away halfway through the first year. I decided: if I’m going for this uncertain profession, maybe the best trial by fire will be going to a school where you aren’t sure if you’ll be allowed to stay. I was allowed, in the end. At the theatre academy I came into contact with art, philosophy, poetry. All of that was new. But it didn’t feel as if I was behind, I only saw it as a fantastic source of riches; as if I could try on all sorts of new glasses.”

Huntersfamily

“I never thought that this path wasn’t laid out for me, I just always let myself be lead by my passion and my dreams. My parents are happy for me; I have a good connection with both. My father is an amazing person - an accumulation of beautiful ingredients. He’s honest with himself, doesn’t spare himself and laughs a lot, that’s important to me. He might be made out of simple components, he’s from a huntersfamily, but for me these are the components that build a strong character. My dad can tell beautiful stories, about his life in Tunisia, about his old friends who aren’t with us anymore. Every year death takes someone new, and in that way a beautiful group of people slowly disappears, the protagonists of a generation. One lives close to the elements there, I find that fascinating. It’s so different to our life here. I’ll also never interrupt my dad when he starts on a story like that. Even if I’ve heard it before.”

Vampire

“I’ve always said: I want to play a woman, a vampire, a Moroccan kick-boxer. I’ve succeeded in doing the last one. A vampire is a wonderful character. The beauty of their faces, the sensuality, the tragedy of never going outside during the day, and of course their never ageing; never dying, in fact. I’d like to never die. When I was a kid, I suffered a lot of nightmares. About falling and never landing. I had a hard time in the dream world, I wasn’t a big fan of night. It was, I think, a sort of inexplicable fear of dying. At a certain moment I grew familiar with those dreams, figured out how to influence them. I could for all intents and purposes check-out whenever it became scary. I became the director of my own dream world. When I was twelve, I fell in love, and then I was over it. I still have nightmares, like everyone else, but now I find them fascinating instead of threatening. Beautiful how your mind can make a story out of all sorts of ingredients. Sometimes I call my mother to talk about what a dream might mean. For example, I recently dreamt about my grandmother. ‘She thinks about you and loves you,’ my mother says.”

Tree

“I still know fear and uncertainty, but they don’t hinder me anymore. They’re two trusted companions now, who walk with me. They keep me sharp and hungry, and in a good way, they keep me on my toes. As long as they don’t hold me back, they can be here. Fear of dying is now simply fear of no longer living. If a way to live until you’re 377 is discovered tomorrow, I’ll be the first to sign up. I’d like to end up as a tree. Then you only need to have a care for wind, rain and sun.”

#anon come get ur interview !!! translated this first one & i'll get to work on the other ones for u mwah mwah #marwan kenzari #i also will be honest that i do not know if 'moroccan' is supposed to be capitalised i thought it was but if its not thats on me #idk how else to tag this. also i love him. also i love doing translation work bc sometimes it does not work out but usually it just allows #me to flaunt the nuance of language i guess #translation*#starting a collection ladies

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causeiwanttoandican · 3 years

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Harry, Meghan and me: my truth as a royal reporter

I've covered elections and extremism, but nothing compares to the vitriol I've received since I started writing about the Sussexes

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor27 March 2021 • 6:00am

It is probably worth mentioning from the outset that I never, ever, planned to become a royal reporter. I mean, who does? It’s one of those ridiculous jobs most people fall into completely by accident.

I certainly wasn’t coveting the position when I first found out how bonkers the beat could be after covering Charles and Camilla’s wedding in 2005. Desperate for ‘a line’ on what went on at the reception, journalists were reduced to flagging down passing cars in Windsor High Street and interrogating the likes of Stephen Fry about whether they’d had the salmon or the chicken.

Watergate, this wasn’t.

Yet when my former editor called me into his office shortly afterwards and offered me the royal job ‘because you’re called Camilla and you dress nicely’, who was I to refuse?

Having planned to get married myself that summer, and start a family soon afterwards, I looked to the likes of Jennie Bond and Penny Junor and figured it would be a good patch for a working mother as well as being one I could grow old with. Unlike show business, when celebrities are ‘in’ one minute and ‘out’ the next, the royals would stay the same, making it easier to build – and keep – contacts.

So if you’d told me that 16 years later, I would find myself at the centre of a media storm over a royal interview with Oprah Winfrey, I’d have probably laughed in your face. First of all, only royals like Fergie do interviews with Oprah. And since when did journalists become the story?

Yet as I have experienced since the arrival of Meghan Markle on the royal scene in 2016 – a move that roughly coincided with Twitter doubling its 140-character limitation to 280 – royal reporters like me now find themselves in the line of fire like never before.

We are used to the likes of Kate Adie coming under attack in the Middle East, but now it is the correspondents who write up events like Trooping the Colour and the Royal Windsor Horse Show having to take cover from the keyboard warriors supposedly defending the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s ‘truth’.

Accusations of racism have long been levelled against anyone who has dared to write less than undiluted praise of Harry and Meghan. But even I have been taken aback by the vitriol on social media in the wake of the couple’s televised two-hour talk-a-thon, in which they branded both the Royal family and the British press racist while complaining about their ‘almost unsurvivable’ multimillionaire lives at the hands of the evil monarchy. And all while the rest of the UK were losing their loved ones and livelihoods in a global pandemic.

Having covered Brexit, general elections and stories about Islamic extremism, I’ve grown used to being sprayed with viral vomit on a fairly regular basis, but when you’ve got complete strangers trolling your best friend’s Instagram feed by association? That’s Britney Spears levels of toxic.

Having a hind thicker than a rhino’s, it wasn’t the repeated references to my being ‘a total c—’ that particularly bothered me, nor even the suggestion that I should have my three children put up for adoption. At one point someone even said it would be a good idea for me to drink myself to death like my mother, about whose chronic alcoholism I have written extensively.

No, what really got me was the appalling spelling and grammar. I mean, if you’re going to hurl insults, at least have the decency to get my name right.

Yet in order to understand just how it has come to pass that so-called #SussexSquaders think nothing of branding all royal correspondents ‘white supremacists’ regardless of who they write for, or sending hate mail to our email addresses, offices – and in some cases, even our homes – it’s worth briefly going to back to when I first broke the story that Prince Harry was dating an American actor in the Sunday Express on 31 October 2016. Headlined: ‘Royal world exclusive: Harry’s secret romance with TV star’, the splash revealed how the popular prince was ‘secretly dating a stunning US actress, model and human rights campaigner’.

Despite my now apparently being on a par with the Ku Klux Klan for failing to acknowledge Meghan as the next messiah, it was actually not until the fifteenth paragraph of that original article that the ‘confident and intelligent’ Northwestern University graduate was described as ‘the daughter of an African-American mother and a father of Dutch and Irish descent’.

Call me superficial, but I was genuinely far more interested in the fact that Harry ‘I-come-with-baggage’ Wales was dating a former ‘briefcase girl’ from the US version of Deal or No Deal than the colour of her skin. A ginger prince punching well above his weight? This was the stuff of tabloid dreams. Little did I know then that covering the trials and tribulations of these two lovebirds would turn into such a nightmare.

The online hostility began bubbling up about eight days after that first story, when Harry’s then communications secretary Jason Knauf issued an ‘unprecedented’ statement accusing the media of ‘crossing a line’.

‘His girlfriend, Meghan Markle, has been subject to a wave of abuse and harassment’, it read, referencing a ‘smear on the front page of a national newspaper; the racial undertones of comment pieces; and the outright sexism and racism of social media trolls and web article comments’. Meghan’s mother, Doria Ragland, had apparently been besieged by photographers, while bribes had been offered to Meghan’s ex-boyfriend along with ‘the bombardment of nearly every friend, coworker, and loved one in her life’.

Suffice to say, I did feel a bit guilty. Although I hadn’t written anything remotely racist or sexist, I had started the ball rolling for headlines like the MailOnline’s ‘(Almost) straight outta Compton’ (referencing a song by hip-hop group NWA about gang violence and Meghan’s upbringing in the nearby LA district of Crenshaw), along with her ‘exotic’ DNA (which I subsequently called out, including on This Morning in the wake of ‘Megxit’ in January last year).

Omid Scobie, co-author of Finding Freedom, a highly favourable account of the Sussexes’ departure from the Royal family, written with their cooperation last summer, would later insist that the couple knew the story of their relationship was coming out and were well prepared for it.

I can tell you categorically that they weren’t, since I did not even put a call into Kensington Palace before we went to press for fear of it being leaked. (I did later discuss this with Harry, when I covered his trip to the Caribbean in November 2016, and to be fair he was pretty philosophical, agreeing it would have come out sooner or later. But that was before the former Army Captain decided to well and truly shoot the messenger, latterly telling journalists covering the newly-weds’ tax-payer-funded October 2018 tour of Australia and the south Pacific: ‘Thanks for coming, even though you weren’t invited.’)

The royal press pack is the group of dedicated writers who cover all the official engagements and tours on a rota system, in exchange for not bothering the royals as they go about their private business. It was a shame this ragtag bunch, of which I am an associate member, was never personally introduced to Meghan when the couple got engaged in November 2017.

I still have fond memories of a then Kate Middleton, upon her engagement to Prince William in November 2010, showing me her huge sapphire and diamond ring following a press conference at St James’s Palace with the words, ‘It was William’s mother’s so it is very special.’

I replied that she might want to consider buying ‘one of those expanding accordion style file holders’ to organise all her wedding paperwork. (Reader, I had given birth to my second child less than four months earlier and was still lactating.)

Not meeting Meghan did not stop royal commentators like me writing reams about her being ‘a breath of fresh air’ and telling practically every TV show I appeared on that she was the ‘best thing to have happened to the Royal Family in years’.

As the world followed the joyous news of the Windsors’ resident strip billiards star having finally found ‘the one’, the couple enjoyed overwhelmingly positive press culminating in their fairy-tale wedding in May 2018, which we headlined ‘So in love’ above a picture of the bride and groom kissing. I tweeted the wedding front page, along with the original story breaking the news of their relationship with the words, ‘Job done’. Yet, as Meghan would later point out in a glossy Santa Barbara garden, that was by far the end of the story.

According to the Duchess’s testimony before a global audience of millions, the seeds for their royal departure were actually sown by an article I wrote in November 2018 suggesting she made Kate cry during a bridesmaid’s dress fitting for Princess Charlotte.

Claiming the ‘reverse happened’, the former Suits star railed, ‘A few days before the wedding she was upset about something, pertaining to, yes, the issue was correct, about flower-girl dresses, and it made me cry, and it really hurt my feelings.’

She then went on to criticise the palace for failing to correct the story – suggesting that royal aides had hung her out to dry to protect the Duchess of Cambridge.

All of which left me in a bit of a sticky situation. As I told Phillip Schofield on This Morning the following day, ‘I don’t write things I don’t believe to be true and that haven’t been really well sourced.’

Having seemingly been completely bowled over by Meghan’s version of events, Schofe then went for the jugular: ‘I have to say, though, that’s all addressed in that interview, isn’t it, because she [Meghan] couldn’t understand why nobody stood up for her?’

Yet someone had stood up for her, on that very same This Morning sofa: me.

As I told Phil and Holly on 14 January 2019, as more reports of ‘Duchess Difficult’ started to emerge, ‘I think she [Meghan] is doing really well, she looks amazing, she speaks well. She has played a blinder.’

So you’ll forgive me if I can’t quite understand why Meghan didn’t feel the need to correct this supposedly glaring error once she had her own dedicated head of communications from March 2019 – or indeed when she ‘collaborated’ with Scobie, who concluded in his bestselling hagiography that ‘no one cried’?

Moreover, how did the Duchess know a postnatal Kate wasn’t ‘left in tears’? And if she doesn’t know, what hope has the average troll observing events through the prism of their own deep-rooted insecurities?

It appears the actual truth ceases to matter once sides have been taken in the unedifying Team Meghan versus Team Kate battle that has divided the internet.

Make no mistake, there are abject morons at both extremes spewing the sort of bile that, ironically, makes most of the media coverage of Harry and Meghan look like a 1970s edition of Jackie magazine.

It perhaps didn’t help my case that the day before the interview was aired in the US, I had written a lengthy piece carefully weighing up the evidence behind allegations of ‘outrageous bullying’ that had been levelled against Meghan during what proved to be a miserable 20 months in the Royal family for all concerned.

The messages – to my Twitter feed, my email, my website and official Facebook page – ranged from the threatening, to the typical tropes about media ‘scum’ and the downright bizarre. Some accused me of being in cahoots with Carole Middleton, with whom I have never interacted, unless you count a last-minute Party Pieces purchase in a desperate moment of poor parental planning.

Another frequent barb was questioning why the press wasn’t writing about that ‘pedo’ [sic] Prince Andrew instead – seemingly oblivious to the fact that no one would know about the Duke of York’s links to Jeffrey Epstein if it wasn’t for the acres of coverage devoted to the story by us royal hacks over recent years.

It didn’t matter that I had repeatedly torn the Queen’s second, and, some say, favourite son to pieces for everything from his propensity to take his golf clubs on foreign tours to that disastrous Newsnight interview.

Contrary to the ‘invisible contract’ Harry claims the palace has with the press, royal coverage works roughly like this: good royal deeds = good publicity. Bad royal deeds = bad publicity. We effectively act as a critical friend, working on behalf of a public that rightly expects the royals to take the work – but not themselves – seriously.

So when a royal couple preaches about climate change before taking four private jets in 11 days, it is par for the course for a royal scribe to point out the inconsistency of that message. None of it is ever personal, as evidenced by the fact that practically every member of the monarchy has come in for flak over the years.

If Oprah wasn’t willing to point out the discrepancies in Harry and Meghan’s testimony, surely it is beholden on royal reporters to question how the Duchess had managed to undertake four foreign holidays in the six months after her wedding, in addition to official tours to Italy, Canada, and Amsterdam, as well as embarking on a lengthy honeymoon, if she had ‘turned over’ her passport?

While no one would wish to undermine the extent of her mental health problems, could it really be true that she only left the house twice in four months when she managed to cram in 73 days’ worth of engagements, according to the Court Circular, in the 17 months between her wedding and the couple’s departure to Canada?

And what of the ‘racist’ headlines flashed up during the interview purporting to be from the British press, when more than a third were actually taken from independent blogs and the foreign media? The UK media abides by the Independent Press Standards Organisation’s Code of Conduct ‘to avoid prejudicial or pejorative reference to an individual’s race’, as well as by rigorous defamation laws. And rightly so – the British press doesn’t always get it right. But social media is the Wild West by comparison, publishing vile slurs on a daily basis with impunity.

Some therefore find it strange that such a litigious couple would claim to have been ‘silenced’ when they have made so many complaints, including resorting to legal action, over stories they claim not to have even read. There is something similarly contradictory about a couple accusing the tabloids of lacking self-reflection while refusing to take any blame at all – for anything.

In any normal world, informed writing on such matters would be classed as fair comment, but not, seemingly, on Twitter where those completely lacking any objectivity whatsoever are only too willing to virtue signal and manoeuvre.

As the trolling reached fever pitch in the aftermath of the interview, veteran royal reporter Robert Jobson of the Evening Standard called me. ‘Don’t respond to these freaks,’ he advised. ‘It’s getting nasty out there. Watch your back!’

Yet despite my general sense of bewilderment at the menacing Megbots, I can’t say it didn’t appal me to discover a close friend had received online abuse, purely by dint of being my mate. After discussing the lengths the troll must have gone to to track her down, she asked me, ‘Do you ever worry someone might do something awful to you?’ Er, not until now, no.

Of course it’s upsetting, even for a cynical old-timer like me. Worse still are people who actually know me casting aspersions on my profession on social media. Often these are the same charlatans who would think nothing of sidling up to me for the latest gossip on the Royal family, while publicly pretending that reading any such coverage is completely beneath them.

Most pernicious of all though – not least after Piers Morgan’s departure from Good Morning Britain following a complaint to ITV and Ofcom from the Duchess – is the corrosive effect this whole hullabaloo is having on freedom of speech. When you’ve got a former actor effectively editing a British breakfast show from an £11 million Montecito mansion, what next?

I cannot help but think we are in danger of setting race relations back 30 years if people are seriously suggesting that any criticism of Meghan is racially motivated. It’s the hypocrisy that gets me. When Priti Patel was accused of bullying, the very same people who willingly hung the Home Secretary out to dry are now the ones defending Meghan against such claims, saying they have been levelled at her simply because she is ‘a strong woman of colour’.

Of course journalists should take responsibility for everything they report and be held to account for it – but Harry and Meghan do not have a monopoly on the truth simply because the close friend and neighbour who interviewed them in return for £7 million from CBS took what they said as gospel.

If she isn’t willing to probe the disparity between Meghan saying someone questioned the colour of Archie’s skin when she was pregnant, and Harry suggesting it happened before they were even married, then someone must. There’s a name for such scrutiny. It’s called journalism.

The public reserves the right to make up its own mind – with the help of the watchful eye of a free and fair press. But that press can never be free or fair if journalists do not feel they can report without fear or favour. I’m lucky that a lot of the criticism I face is more than balanced out by hugely supportive members of the public and online community who either agree – or respect the right to disagree. Along with the hate mail, I have had many thoughtful and eloquent missives, including those that good naturedly challenge what I have written in the paper or said on TV, which have genuinely given me pause for thought.

I am more than happy to enter into constructive discourse with these correspondents, who are frankly sometimes the only people who keep me on Twitter. I mean, let’s face it, I wouldn’t be anywhere near the bloody thing if this wasn’t my day job.

With the National Union of Journalists this month declaring that harassment and abuse had ‘become normalised’ within the industry, never have members of Britain’s press needed more courage. As Winston Churchill famously said, ‘You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.’

Who would have thought that the preservation of the fundamental freedoms that we hold so dear should partially rest on the shoulders of those who follow around a 94-year-old woman and her family for a living?

If I’d known then what I know now, would I still have written the bridesmaid’s dress story?

Yes – doubtlessly reflecting sisterly sobs all round. But after two decades in this business, I am clear-eyed enough to know this for certain: whatever I had written, it would still have ended in tears.

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coldmorte · 3 years

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So i have some unpopular opinions; i feel like Dutch doesnt sleep around as much as people would like to think. He probably likes the fact that people think that of him, even if its not his style. Also...i dont think Dutch and Molly have any chemistry.

Howdy! (ASK 1 OF 2)

I apologize it took me some time to actually reply to this, especially because it is such a great ask! I definitely agree with both points made here, but I was debating how I wanted to write a response (and how far to take it).

Anyway, I'm open to hearing unpopular opinions! I know I have plenty of my own, so I'm not really one to judge others (as long as there is mutual respect) ☺️

My response is fairly long, and it deals with some sensitive topics. I decided to add a cut to this first ask, just to be safe! 💜💜💜

(Warning: SPOILERS below)

In regard to Dutch sleeping around, there are a few reasons why I don’t think he does it as much as it is often implied/assumed (I’m primarily limiting this to the timeframe of RDR2, Ch. 1-6).

First of all, Molly explicitly says Dutch doesn’t show her a lot of physical attention, even though he is her SO. If he’s not sleeping with her much, I doubt that he is going around with any other women at this time. He seldom leaves camp, outside of doing missions, so it is unlikely that he would meet up with anybody not in the gang. It just doesn’t seem plausible to me, as it would put him in a vulnerable position.

Dutch complains multiple times - including to Molly - that he is under stress and concerned about the Pinkertons closing in on them. Why would he go around outside the camp sleeping with random women? It would put him at the risk of being seen or reported on, and I believe he is smarter than to take on the unnecessary danger. Generally, he doesn’t spend much time in civilized areas, unless he needs to.

Not to mention, stress can be a real inhibitor of sex drive. For the entirety of the game, Dutch exhibits various degrees of anxiety and depression. I believe the gang and his personal safety were of much more concern to him, thus diminishing his interest in sex.

Speaking of the gang, I don’t personally see Dutch as sleeping around with the women in it that much. He did have a relationship with Susan in the past. Whether anything was still going on between them or not is uncertain, but if there was something, it probably was not serious or very frequent. In RDR1, he also suggests that he slept with Abigail, but if this happened, I doubt it would have occurred during the events of RDR2. They hardly ever interacted, and when Abigail did talk about Dutch, it was almost always in a negative manner. Dutch also showed some interest in Mary-Beth. However, I don’t think it went beyond flirting. She didn’t show much interest in him, and I think word would have gotten around if he tried to force anything, especially to Arthur (I am not going to discuss the events of RDR1 in any more detail here because that is a whole different conversation). But other than them, who else in the gang? There were not enough interactions with other women to suggest there was anything between them and Dutch.

Also, sex was considerably more risky in 1899 than it is today, and the means of contraception were not as dependable. For instance, The Pill didn’t go onto the market for another 60 years, and it was more difficult to get ahold of other birth control methods. This was partly because there were not as many technological advancements in this field and because there were a few laws that prevented reliable access to contraceptives (ex: The Comstock Laws). Condoms were arguably one of the easier birth control methods to find, but they still were not as widely available then as they are today (the quality was arguably not as good either). As I understand it, some searching was generally required to get ahold of condoms (usually in more civilized areas, which Dutch tried to avoid).

Dutch is a very contradictory character. My point in bringing up birth control is because although on some level I think Dutch probably would have liked to have actual children, I do not think he was serious enough about it to take any risks that might have led to an unwanted pregnancy during the timeframe of RDR2. As I mentioned, he was under a lot of stress with the gang. A biological child on top of that most likely would have overwhelmed him, and it would have required a long-term commitment to not only the child, but to the mother as well. I believe Dutch was smart enough to recognize this danger, and since birth control methods were not as widely available or reliable, he would not have wanted to sleep around too much (unwanted pregnancies were relatively common during this era).

I’ve written in the past that I believe Dutch had a certain degree of self-consciousness underneath his pride, so I do agree that he probably would have liked people finding him attractive or seductive. These traits emanate a sense of power and confidence, which would have provided a more favorable presentation of himself to others. These perceptions certainly would have helped to conceal his own self-doubts and insecurities, so he would have welcomed them, rather than try to refute them.

Now, in regard to the chemistry between Dutch and Molly, I agree. I think it was a pretty bad relationship all around. I don’t see its flaws as being entirely one-sided.

I will get into this a little more on the next ask, but I will discuss a few things here first.

Starting with Dutch, I will admit that he could have treated Molly a lot better. Even if he wasn’t happy with her or the status of their relationship, he should have seriously talked to her more. She deserved that, at the very minimum. There were a few instances where she tried to get his attention, and he just brushed her off. Again, like I said, even if he wasn’t very keen on the relationship anymore, he should have at least been honest about that. Then, as I already discussed, he had some mildly flirtatious conversations with Mary-Beth. I certainly do not think this helped matters. It was rude the way he insulted Molly for bringing up his interactions with Mary-Beth and how he pretended he had no idea what Molly was talking about.

Onto Molly, I don’t think she was perfect either. I know Dutch didn’t talk with her nearly as much as he should have, but she didn’t seem to show a whole lot of support for him in return. Dutch expressed that he was feeling stressed and not up to much physical activity, to which she got quite upset. She seemed to turn some arguments towards herself and her needs, with little regard for Dutch’s wellbeing. I do think she was selfish for demanding him to give her something he did not want to give/could not provide. Also, she refused to help the gang find leads or assist with chores, even when told to do so by others (ex: Dutch and Arthur). She tended to act above everybody else, claiming she wasn’t a servant to the needs of the gang as a whole. Though I can respect her sense of independence in that regard, it did show a sense of entitlement. Even Dutch donated to the gang funds, and as the leader, he was the one responsible for overseeing the vast majority of missions they engaged in. Molly was the only person who really did not contribute much. (Side note: Even UNCLE - the laziest bastard in the West - helped with leads and contributions!!)

I will get into this more in the following ask, but although I know she loved Dutch to an extent, I think part of her fascination with him was rooted in infatuation. Little is known about her background, but it is canon that she came from a wealthy and influential family in Ireland. I think part of the reason why she liked Dutch so much was because of the powerful position he held. She frequently lashed out at people who she perceived as challenging the reality of her “love” for him, such as Abigail and Karen. In one instance, Molly even went so far as to slap Karen across the face because she thought Karen was talking negatively about her. There was no evidence to prove or disprove Molly’s beliefs, but it did show that she was pretty sensitive about criticism (whether it was perceived or real) in regard to her relationship with Dutch.

Now, Dutch was wrong to use Molly’s fascination with him and his role in the gang to seduce her. But like I said, both of them had their issues. It was just a bad situation from both sides, and I do not think it should have happened in the first place. I don’t necessarily blame one more than the other. To be honest, I think they each deserved someone who fit them better.

And if I am being even MORE honest, I think Dutch should have stayed with Susan. She loved him, and he made a big mistake in ever giving her up. I believe the events of RDR2 would have turned out very differently, had he kept her closer.

(Ending note: Outside of serious posts - like this one - I know I make quite a few jokes about Dutch on my blog in regard to sexuality, but I do not mean for much of what I say in that regard to be taken *too* seriously. I don’t particularly want to discuss my personal life in the text of this post, but I will say that even if Dutch was a person I knew in real life, I’m not sure I would seriously want anything to happen between us. However, that is another matter entirely that has nothing whatsoever to do with him. I absolutely LOVE his character to death, and my blog will remain dedicated to his role in the RDR story for as long as I am around! That is all that should matter!!!)

Also, it is perfectly fine and normal to separate fiction from reality! It is okay to alter interpretations of Dutch (and/or Molly) for the sake of artistic expression, as long as the reasons can be justified. Furthermore, it is fine to disagree with me!!

I just hope this response gave you a thing or two to consider. Thank you again for sending your message in!! 💜💜💜

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lesserfandomappreciation · 3 years

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I'm on a road trip so I've def got time to send a few asks in haha nice! Rdr2 hcs with dutch, Arthur, sadie, and Karen for a van der linde gang member s/o with a big fear of blood? If they get shot and it's just a flesh wound they'll be the hugest baby about it, and while they are constantly in shootouts where blood is common, they might have trouble standing up at the end of it with all the bodies

S/o afraid of blood (RDR2)

Warning: Mentions of blood, minor gore, shoot-outs, getting shot, not the best understanding/manipulation (Dutch)

Arthur

He gets it.

Blood is sticky, it gets every where, it... reminds people of what typically comes after losing too much of the stuff. Arthur may not seem it, but he himself gets squeamish from time to time. He can throw a punch, shoot a man, but once the guts and gore set in, even he has to look away.

Still, it's an eyebrow-going-up moment when they explain the fear to him. See, he didn't have much choice in being in the gang. It's all he's really ever known. S/o on the other hand joined the gang later. They knew there was going to be messes and they still joined anyway? That's certainly an odd choice to go with.

There are two people panicking when s/o gets shot - s/o, and Arthur who is sprinting to anyone who can patch them up. This helps neither of them in calming down. Arthur's panic of genuine concern fuels s/o's genuine fear, and their fear fuels his concern. It's a negative feedback loop of panic. No one is safe.

Shoot-outs are going to happen. In this gang? It's a quiet week if they haven't had more than one. That doesn't make them any easier. Arthur's quick to pull them away from it, ducking their head into his chest so that they don't see any of it. It's awkward, he's not sure how to always act, but at least this way the sight of blood is not there.

Dutch (Trigger warning, manipulative, an asshole in general)

Dutch could not give less of a damn if he tried.

Inaccurate. Let me rephrase that - Dutch cares up until he can't be bothered to. Them panicking at the sight of blood is fine in general - hell he gets a kick out of it whenever they see the tiniest little paper-cut. He's all sweet words to distract them away from it, cooing at them and telling them that they'll be fine.

This is before the frustration sets in. When they're injured, when they're panicking at the sight of blood, these are moments where Dutch's stained personality rears its ugly head. He roars at them to get it together, now's not the time for this. At their failure to comply, others are ordered to get them the hell out of there.

Fear is something that can be used, leveraged against someone to get them to comply. A plan that s/o disapproves is made oh-so-appealing when Dutch leans into them, reminding them that "the other way would wind up with another shootout against the Pinkertons, and we don't want all that mess now do we?"

Fire this man. Literally. Torches would be preferable.

Sadie

Sadie can be cold towards others. She's not above throwing someone else under the carriage to get her way. If it's in connection to the O'Driscolls, she'll burn the world and everything in just to smoke them out. If this is a shoot-out that has anything to do with the O'Driscolls, she's not going to be showing as much empathy towards S/o's fear of blood.

However, in any other scenario unrelated to her vengeance, Sadie is loyal. Dedicated. Downright protective. Not just of her friends and pseudo-family she has in the gang but also of S/o. There's also a factor that we're forgetting here that really affects how she treats s/o's fears; not too long ago, she herself would have reacted poorly to blood. She wasn't always a shooter. She once was as normal a civilian as any. Blood and all that comes with it is something she's had to force herself to deal with on her quest for revenge. For her, it's a fear she's conquered out of spite and fury. For s/o, it's not. And in that difference there is understanding.

Sadie does have a kind side to her. When s/o is injured she is the one to calm them down and get them looking somewhere else, talk about anything else while she deals with the wound. If they're in the middle of a bloody aftermath, Sadie is the one to drag them away from it, keep them with the horses until Dutch gives the signal that the group is moving on. She's not perfect, there will be times she gets frustrated, but above all Sadie does try her best to keep them alright.

Karen

Karen has grown with blood. As a long-term member of the Van Der Linde Gang, she's seen it all. Blood, a piece of someone's brain missing, gory cuts, intense violence - all part of the life of an outlaw. She's so used to it that when s/o tells her of their fears she frankly can't wrap her head around it. It's just blood darlin'. What's there to be scared of? Expect a jab or two or a hundred about the fear - nothing serious, a few teasing words.

Then she sees them in an actual shootout. And the words start to really sink in.

Karen is already worried about their wounds, and their panicking is not helping (justified as it is). She tries to tough-love it ("Quit yer whining, I got you-") but it doesn't exactly help. Instead she winds up talking to them about anything else. Weather, Micah's shit personality, camp gossip, anything to get their mind off the wound and focus on her fast-talking mouth. It can be an effective distraction.

Shoot-outs are difficult. Bloody messes are unavoidable in a shoot-out; they, a fellow gang member, should know that by now. Karen's got the perfect solution to their fear - dragging them away to wash up as best they can. All that blood on their clothes is not helpin' and the tough guys in the gang are going to deal with the mess, so why not focus on 'freshening up? The pair will go wash up, wiping away any dried blood as Karen insists they keep their eyes closed while she gets some of the blood off them.

#rdr2 #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 imagines #dutch #arthur #sadie #karen #dutch is so toxic holy schmoly #I re-watched some cutscenes to get a feel for everyone #and dutch is so punchable

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diverse-writing · 4 years

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Pt. 1-Hi! I'm a Black woman writing a Fanfiction for an anime series called Food Wars and I'm creating a sister and brother who are half-Lakota (Itazipcola Band) and half-Black American. They're going to a Japanese Culinary High School, the same school their great-uncle (Kiowa) went to when America was in Japan, post-WWII for a few years as his father was in the army. It's a very competitive school with diverse characters and cooking styles/types. They both want to travel and see a new country.

(continued) They live in Sioux Falls, SD after moving from the Cheyenne River Rez years ago. The family owns a Catering company with Native, African, and American Southern food (Mom is from VA) that does Showcasings, Chef Demos, and feeding the people within both communities while mentoring the youth. Annie (Older sis) wants to be a Pastry Chef as Andrew (little bro) does mostly savory, especially BBQ. Annie was on a kid's baking show as Andrew won kid's BBQ competitions. Both siblings want to help their communities by spreading awareness about poverty, suicide, and other stuff. They are active in their Native heritage. I did research in Natives in Japan, and I found that it's a bit mixed. Some people don't know about Natives, or that they do but only through the news and old western films. There's this one guy who went to a tribe to learn about the culture and he went back to Japan to teach his students about how the Natives truly lived. There's a Native jewelry store in Tokyo So some Japanese do know about Natives, I want to write a few small scenes where the Japanese students ask questions that are stereotypical about Natives and Black people, but they learn from the siblings. Annie begins to have a crush on a boy who is mixed indigenous (Ainu/Saami), but isn't connected to those cultures, because of his Ainu dad dying and Saami mom leaving him. He was adopted by a rich Japanese/Danish family. I want him to learn more about his heritage after falling for Annie and begins to heal from his past through learning about the Saami. Before he didn't want to do anything with them due to his mom. Andrew falls for a Japanese girl who does Medicine Cuisine. He's a expert in Nutrition and tries to help his people's health issues. They have a cute relationship. I thought of these characters just like any other person. I'm Black and I don't like seeing stereotypes. Annie and Andrew love music due to their dad formerly being in a band with only one album. They're both crafty with the Arts due to their grandparents on both sides teaching them. Annie is more outgoing, goofy, and blunt than Andrew but she enjoys the simple stuff in life and loves fashion (Vintage 60s/70s and Punk) Andrew is more quiet and shy, but not antisocial. He just likes doing his own thing while teasing his sis on her shortness and crush. He likes comfy, Punk clothing. I was just wondering what is offensive and not. I want to show their food and aspects of culture, like Powwows (I've been watching videos on Lakota Powwows) and I've been wondering if there's a coming of age ceremony. I don't want to show it just mention it. Is this where people get their Lakota name? I don't want to do religious ceremonies since that's sacred and also I'm not really religious, but what if I want to allude about it? Sorry that this was way too long!

Okay, this is a huge question but I’ll do my best to answer it with the GIANT caveat that I’m not indigenous and am only answering to the best of my knowledge. If any indigenous followers--particularly those with experience in Japan/with Japanese culture, though of course all are welcome--have thoughts or feelings, as always feel free to add more information and/or correct me!

A few observations that jump out, based on your description of your narrative framework:

Their food. Okay, while I know absolutely nothing about the food cultures you describe, I’m a huge fan of connecting with your culture through your food (and your stomach!) so I love this framing. That being said, to my knowledge African American food is fairly distinct from African food, with the former more likely to be in their cultural background given your description (obviously, in this situation you’re the expert on Black culture so feel free to totally ignore me here).

Andrew’s food interests. Related to the previous bullet point, based on my understanding Medicine Cuisine and Nutrition would be super interesting focuses for him given his cultural background. It’d be super cool to seem him integrate his various cooking specialties and heritages into nourishing food to support his people.

Knowledge about Native Americans in Japan. I do think it’s likely accurate that unless someone in Japan has personally done research, the average Japanese citizen probably knows very little about indigenous Native Americans in the same way the average American knows very little about Japanese indigenous ethnic groups.

Relatedly, I think it makes sense for their Japanese classmates to ask stereotypical questions, but you should steer clear of just plain offensive questions. As you likely know, answering stereotypical questions about your identity and heritage is exhausting and should be treated as such within the narrative. Your characters are in school to educate themselves, not to educate their classmates, so while the latter may occur sometimes I don’t think it should be their focus. So while the intent of the questioning scene may partially be to help answer readers’ questions about Annie and Andrew’s heritage (and Black and Lakota culture to an extent), remember that the ultimate goal of representation is not to educate others but to help people within those demographics see themselves on the page. And more likely than not, Black and Lakota readers won’t want to see characters representing themselves having to answer the same repetitive questions they face down all the time.

I know you only mentioned him in passing, but I have a lot more thoughts specifically about Annie’s mixed Ainu/Saami crush. I don’t want to tell you *not* to write him but I do think there are several pitfalls you need to carefully avoid moving forward.

His Saami mother. There’s a big stereotype around POC abandoning their children, being absent or flighty parents, or otherwise just failing to properly nuture their children. While I’m unaware of any specific stereotype regarding indigenous parents, I would tentatively say that doesn’t mean those stereotypes don’t exist, so tread carefully. That being said, I do know there’s a stereotype about indigenous people being alcoholics, so you should absolutely avoid characterizing his mother as such because as an outsider, you don’t have the power to subvert that stereotype.

His relationship with his heritage. I would also be very cautious while writing his arc of reconnecting to his heritage. While reconnecting is unfortunately a very real (and very under represented) process for indigenous people, it’s an extremely difficult and personal process that I don’t think outsiders are qualified to write in-depth about. Though I don’t think you should necessarily gloss over his reconnecting process, I do think it should perhaps be a side character arc, rather than his defining character arc. For example, he might mention to Annie that her passion for her heritage has inspired him to research his own family, or else maybe he’s pictured buying a book on the Saami language. (The current discussion around Rick Riordan’s portrayal of Piper’s imperfect reconnection to her Cherokee heritage makes some really good points, so I’d check that out if you’re familiar with his books. I’d be happy to link you if you’re curious.)

His adopted family. I have to admit--as the daughter of a transracial adoptee in a family full of transracial adoptees, this framing makes me very wary. While I know transracial adoption parents likely have only the best intentions, the adopted child themselves often end up hugely disconnected from their birth cultures. It’s often an extremely stressful and traumatic event, especially in cases where the adopted parents don’t learn about their child’s birth culture themselves and/or only teach the child their own cultures (in this case, Japanese and Dutch). Honestly, with all due respect, I have yet to see any fictional narratives that properly address the trauma of transracial adoptions and given everything else going on in your writing, I’m not sure how well you would be able to write about it. More in the next bullet point.

His extremely mixed heritage. While I don’t want to come across as rude, I do have to ask: what’s your intention behind making a single side character with four different cultural backgrounds, especially backgrounds that you the author don’t share? The reality is that, no matter how much research you may do, these four cultures--Ainu, Saami, Japanese, and Dutch--are very rarely found in combination, and I think you’d be hard pressed to find any #ownvoices accounts from similar scenarios that you could hypothetically draw on to write more accurately. As a result, you’d know very little about how these different cultures meld together, and you’d have almost nothing to go on to write about his mixed multicultural background and the tensions that come with it. While I understand you may be attached to his parental setup and his backstory, I would highly advise simplification to avoid straying into territory you neither understand or are qualified to write about. Given your focus on his reconnecting, I would probably recommend keeping his Ainu father alive and cutting his adopted family. That way, you cut the number of unknown cultures in half and you can truly dedicate yourself to writing his Ainu heritage and his reconnecting process well.

With regards to your actual question about Lakota religious ceremonies, as a non-indigenous person I’m definitely not qualified to answer specifics about Lakota coming of age and naming ceremonies. That being said, I know this: Native American ceremonies, rituals, traditions, and lore are often closely guarded and not shared with outsiders. And I don’t just mean outsiders don’t share in the ceremonies themselves--outsiders often can’t even learn about the ceremonies because the knowledge itself is guarded. (This information is secondhand from my Blackfoot professor last year. If I’m wrong or if any indigenous followers have more accurate information, as always I’m open to critiques and suggestions!) As you continue researching this, I’d definitely be mindful of the source; if it comes from an official Lakota or indigenous source, it’s likely okay to share or discuss, but if all you can find about Lakota religious ceremonies is from, like, someone’s blog or Facebook post or something, then that information likely wasn’t approved to share and you shouldn’t write it into your story. Given that this seems to only be a character detail mentioned briefly, you may be able to simply mention the characters’ Lakota names in passing without referencing the ceremony itself.

Sorry for the long response, and I hope at least some of this information helps!

(Also, if you read this post, this is a good example of a really well researched and thought out ISO Sensitivity Reader question. Obviously, I’ve provided what information I can and this individual seems to have done lots of research, but the execution comes down to... well, the actual execution.)

#long post for ts #ISO Sensitivity Reader #writing about race #writing indigenous characters #this is a whole essay question with an essay response whoops #bullet point tw #one of these days I will write about the multigenerational harms of transracial adoption but today is not that day

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candaceparkers · 4 years

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Maitane López: «We are more tactical and therefore we play a very different football»

Our first 'C' in this tremendous trident is Maitane López Millán or also known as “the smile of the Liga Iberdrola” or “Mai”.

She says that it is something natural but unconsciously gives off that 'good vibes' energy that makes the interviewer (in my case) feel like being with a friend drinking something.

And before you start it is important that you understand that ...

For this and subsequent occasions, I have decided that my interviews can be taken as a souvenir home. For Maitane I drew half a soccer field on an A4 sheet and put 11 representative photographs of the player in question, symbolizing the number of components of a team. Her name also appeared in large print, a drawing of a book (later you will understand why), an orange and a star. Once the rules of the game have been explained, I give it to her and when she sees it, she smiles and immediately says, "Very original, really." And with an Aquarius in each hand, Mai begins uncovering the first photograph and ...

Photograph 1 (Maitane as a child) M: Oh! (She laughs). My beginnings, right? I started with 4 or 5 years, all my paternal family was related to football my father, José Ignacio López Rekarte, my uncles, Luis María and Aitor López Rekarte and my grandfather, Luis López. Until one day I came home and told my mother to sign me up. And of course, my mother didn't know anything about women's football in Mallorca because we had just moved from Murcia, and she decided on the Son Cotoner club, which was later renamed Sporting Ciutat de Palma. (Laughs) This anecdote is very funny because with 4-5 years I went to train, and my poor mother told me "don't be sad if they don't pick you", and on the first day, I went up two categories!

ESF: Did you play with boys? M: Yes, until there was a moment that another girl came who became my best friend. At age 12 I was beginning to notice inequalities between men and women because we are biologically different. But I never had problems with any teammates, they were more screams from the stands than anything else. In fact, I keep in touch with some of them.

Photograph 2 (Maitane with her uncle, Luis María López Rekarte) M: My uncle ... has always been my role model (snorts). I still remember this picture, I can see the smile on my face ... It was radiant. Imagine, thanks to him I could have access to my idols, that is, I was next to Kovacevic, Nihat, Xabi Alonso etc.

Really, I had devotion to him, when he came to play against Mallorca, I brought all my friends and they freaked out, for me he was my idol and he was the one who pushed me to continue.

ESF: Is your uncle going to see you at the matches? M: Yes, and my whole family when we play in Zubieta.

Photograph 3 (In his second football team: UD Collerense) M: Colle ... I was in Sporting Ciutat de Palma until the second division and then I went to Collerense for three years and I was a little scared of the reception because they are rivals to death, but nothing, everything was great (smiles). This club has been my trampoline, a super humble team with very few resources that gave me the opportunity to play in the first division and over at home. I think it is worth considering that the club has been 5 years in the first division (seasons 2011-2016). I take great friendships, in fact the day after tomorrow I will stay with them. But for me Sporting is special because I entered with 4 and left at 15-16 years of age there.

Photograph 4 (Studies) M: I am currently finishing the Primary Education career with a mention in Therapeutic Pedagogy, now I am doing an internship at a Special Education center in Cheste. I've searched for it near Bunyol to get everything on time. The truth is that I've been trying to get my degree for 7 years (she laughs). No, I have not suspended any exams, the thing is that because of football I could not do the practices. And now yes, I have TFG, practices and memory, and that's it.

ESF: And that's it? M: Yes!!! (Smile from ear to ear). I've been doing this for 7 years, but it seems normal, but it's good to combine studies and be a professional football player. Although I have always been clear that I wanted to do both for what could happen, I also believe that when I leave this sport, I would like to dedicate myself to what I have studied, since it has nothing to do with football.

Photograph 5 (First day in the east) M: Incredible... Levante UD has given me everything, Colle was the springboard, but in this club I have evolved both personally and professionally. In addition, I had never lived alone outside home but this team welcomes you and takes care of you so much that I adapted very quickly. And it’s that (laughs) I'm still hallucinating that they iron our clothes and leave us folded in the locker room, really, I’m grateful for everything and I feel immensely happy in Levante UD.

Photograph 6 (Selection) M: I did freak out there, in fact I was with my partner on a off weekend in Salamanca and I was in a bad mood, Jorge called me and asked me how I was and I told him that great, and he told me that I was going with the National Team to Prague. It was a dream for me, to train with them, some of them were already friends ... Now they are in the United States and I wish them the best of luck.

Photograph 7 (Maitane smile) ESF: A lot of people say you're always smiling ... M: (laughs) Yeah, it's true ... (laughs again) Obviously I don't realize it and although it sounds like a cliche I think you have a better life smiling than crying. Also in the team along with Rocío we are the ones who pull pranks... and Lucia and ... Eva (laughs). And nothing, you just have to enjoy everything you do.

Photograph 8 (Eva Navarro, Ona Batlle and Maitane) M: My gorritis !!! They are Eva Navarro and Ona Batlle, they are not my friends, they are like my daughters (laughs). Although Ona is not so much now because she has already grown but Eva is... And I love having them on my team and having met them, it is one of the most beautiful things that football gives you and I am very grateful for it. I love them a lot.

Photograph 9 (Maitane playing the guitar) M: It's one of the things that disinhibits me from football ... I am very much the kind of person who goes with a book to read sitting alone in the street (stares at me and smiles) don’t think it’s weird if you see me one day out there or on the beach giving a walk… In addition, whenever I am a little sad, I feel immense desire to play the guitar and I think… (raises her index finger) “What's wrong with you? You have been playing for half an hour, two hours… ” (Laughs) It is true that my 'gorritis' suffer a lot, although many times it is them who ask me for songs, and we start singing and dancing all three. We have a lot of videos being dumb together (laughs).

ESF: Favorite singer? M: Ainoa Buitrago! (she doesn't doubt a minute)

Photograph 10 (Stadium) M: From the final of the U19 European we lost, I think that defeat has helped me a lot to mature as a footballer. A few years later, you value being a starter in a final. In addition, we faced the Netherlands with some very good players, moreover, the one that scored a goal was the now Arsenal striker and an undisputed starter of the Dutch national team, Vivienne Mediema. And I think about it and I still hallucinate having played that final.

Photograph 11 (The British Ladies Football Club team) ESF: Do they sound like you? M: (Stares) Mmmm… no.

ESF: Do not worry, it is a very old photograph and almost nothing differs. They are the British Ladies Football Club, the components of the first women's soccer team on March 23, 1895 in England. What do you think? M: In the end I think they were the first to open the doors. It is true that now we are being given more visibility and I think we are collecting the reward of all the work not only ours, but since that March 23, 1895. And in the end, we are so grateful to them that they were the first as to all those who have fought for equality both inside and outside the football field. For example, to me past generations like Sandra Vilanova, Melisa Nicolau etc. All of them have opened the door for us here in Spain in many things.

ESF: What do you think of the collective agreement? M: Every step is important. Everything is improving, now there is a sub-20, sub-15 and before it did not exist, I think it is progressing a lot and faster and faster, although there is still much to improve.

ESF: And about future generations? M: I think we have to keep working so that in the future, girls can get to live football as boys do.

ESF: What do you think of the phrase 'girls don't entertain? M: Well (snorts) it's football and it's another kind of show, you don't have to compare men’s football with women’s football because I've said it before, we're biologically different and therefore, we play differently. We don't have as much speed, aggressiveness as they do… We are more tactical and that is why we play a very different football. That’s it.

Female football star M: The best player in the Liga Iberdrola is ...? (sound of drums) Jennifer Hermoso. And the one that is very good but is not given media hype… Mariona. (She laughs)

Favorite book M: I love reading and this question is always a problem for me but ... ' Contra el viento del norte’ by Daniel Glattauer oe ‘La mecánica del corazón' by Mathias Malzieu.

Food ESF: Star dish, favorite ... M: Well, let's see ... (laughs) If you like to eat well, you have to know how to cook. And I know! I love to eat, really, but for football I have to reduce certain foods. For example, my star dish, which is to suck your fingers is: crusty bread, with a layer of provolone cheese and another of hot foie. (close your eyes) Mmmmmm. Really, great. But this I can only allow once every two months (she smiles) that then you have to go out play.

ESF: Thank you very much Maitane, really, ESF thanks you for your time and your sympathy. M: Thanks to you and ESF that I get along great with many of that media. Goodbye, see you soon (smiles and leaves).

And I hit the pause button. I hope you never forget this interview, take a little piece of ESF home and we smile and closeness. Maitane from ESF we wish you all the luck wherever you go and we will always be grateful for these times you give us. Really, do not lose that illusion and desire to live the life that has led you to achieve so much. And we also want to thank Levante UD Feminine for their willingness.

Interview conducted and written by Cristina Brull. Original photographs by Juanfra Galindo for «They Are Soccer»

#she's so humble i love her 💕💕#also i love that she said mariona is one of the best players in the league but doesn't get the spotlight :')#also when she said that eva and ona are like her kids :')#maitane lopez #football

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dorkery · 4 years

Video

youtube

I manifest, briefly, to write about this miniseries WHICH I HAD EXTREMELY HIGH HOPES FOR, and it disappointed me so much I’m compelled to write an actual review about it. In summary, of course. If I did it in-depth, it would probably have to be on my proper blog (oops shit I haven’t updated that in ages).

INTRO ABOUT JAPAN AND WWII (skip this to get to actual review of series)

TOKYO TRIAL. Ah. The Asian parallel to Nuremberg. Media about Japanese war crimes and the subsequent actions (the trial, the rehabilitation of criminals, the adoption of Unit 731 research by American forces, the conflicts between the Japanese Imperial Army and its victims) is not as extensive as the war in Europe. In fact, the Tokyo Trials themselves were not as punitive as the Nuremberg Trial (for a host of bureaucratic reasons, but also the lack of systematic eradication of Japanese citizens, but this is a very simplified explanation). And most media about the Japanese occupation is usually Chinese or Korean (understandably) even though the Japanese did a good job fucking up the Philippines, Malaya, the Dutch East Indies and so on. Also, much media about the Japanese occupation, I find, tends to be about the overall general existence of the Japanese occupation force, rather than specific historical figures (I am making a blanket statement here, I’ve watched limited amounts of Korean and Chinese language media on the Japanese occupation). There’s nothing wrong with this, of course, but the lack of quantity then leaves a viewer chomping on the bit for some good historical drama.

Part of it, probably, is due to the relative mystery of the Japanese occupation when compared to the Nazi occupation. Nazis, the Holocaust, the Third Reich are everywhere in media and have been researched and shared to death. Not so for the Japanese invasion (well, probably in English). The Rape of Nanking (book) was probably THE thing that shone a spotlight on Japanese atrocities, but it’s a drop in the ocean compared to the overall Japanese action in Asia (newsflash: the Japanese ALSO tortured the people in countries that were not China, even though yes, I will readily admit they especially tortured the Chinese populations in countries that were not China).

There is so much Good Shit TM from a edutainment perspective on stuff you can squeeze out of the Japanese invasion. DID YOU KNOW??? THE JAPANESE ARMY CYCLED - ON BICYCLES - FROM THE KINGDOM OF SIAM TO SINGAPORE OVER 2 MONTHS, CAPTURING ALL THE TERRITORY THEY CYCLED THROUGH (because the locals supported the Japanese invasion at the time - Asia For Asians! was the propaganda they put out which was total bullshit, the locals would eventually discover), AND THEN ACCEPTED A BRITISH SURRENDER. THE KING OF SIAM AGREED TO LET THE JAPANESE USE THEM AS THE BIKING ENTRY POINT IN EXCHANGE FOR “DON’T INVADE ME BRO” AND ALSO “can I have some northern malayan territory”. THE JAPANESE AGREED. You can’t make this shit up. And this is the non-atrocity part of it. The atrocity part is as vicious, but differently so, from the Holocaust (which I would prefer not to get into as that’s an entire essay in and of itself - summary: the Japanese bayonet everything - EVERYTHING - and also Contest to kill 100 people with actual Japanese swords as promoted by Mainichi and Nichi Nichi Shimbun and also soap water drinking stomach bulge boot step interrogation technique ok let’s stop this here)

You get what I’m saying. It’s an entire period of history that has not been harvested for good quality drama. And I don’t need fabricated romantic bullshit (I’m looking at you, Embun (even though you were damned good, you’re STILL BULLSHIT)). I’m talking Schindler’s List-type films, with history and gravitas and nuance. Most historical movies have immature script-writers who basically paint the Japanese occupiers as monsters (not necessarily inaccurate, but painfully one dimensional). (Digression: Recently I watched Kanang Anak Langkau which was about a Malayan (and then Malaysian) Ranger who helped fight off the Communists after the Japanese occupation ended and, man, the entire movie was flat... except the Communists??? Like, they were clearly terrible but they were well-portrayed and had great actors. So. Opposite problem. Asians are really bad at war films that aren’t Classic Period Dramas.)

As a citizen of a Japanese-occupied country, with YEARS of history textbooks dedicated to the Japanese occupation, and a generation of Japanese war survivors either dead or unwilling to discuss their experiences, in a region with... pretty bad recording of this sort of history, I think you get my interest and fascination with this entire chapter. And since I’m in a country that isn’t the centre of the Japanese invasion (i.e. China and Korea) it makes even more sense that I’m interested in the occupation and action in countries like the Philippines, Malaya and so on.

ACTUAL REVIEW OF TOKYO TRIAL MINI-SERIES

OK. Sorry. I had to get that off my chest. SO. Tokyo Trial.

This is actually the second piece of media about the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal on video that I’m aware of (that’s been dramatised). The first one was a movie, also called TOKYO TRIAL, and it was a Chinese production (in English) from a Chinese perspective. The protagonist was the Chinese judge on the bench, Justice Mei. Tokyo Trial the Movie (TT(M) from here on out) was heavily dramatised and abridged in order to make for (well, attempted) excitement, action and historical legal thrills. It gets bogged down at times with some typical pacing problems (typical for Asian films). Like a good historical legal thriller, it focuses on victim testimony and the arrogance of the accused and of course it culminates in the feel good moment where you can watch outraged/distraught Japanese war criminals reacting to their sentences. Overall not a bad movie to watch, but not really great. Made interesting only by the righteousness of the protag and the severity and outrageousness of the subject matter. But it suffers from some stuttered pacing and an extremely narrow Chinese POV (understandable, given the protag and the production).

Now. Tokyo Trial (Mini-Series) (TT(MS) from here on).

Pros: Very beautiful. Decent Actors. VERY BEAUTIFUL.

Cons: Literally everything else.

HOW. HOW DO YOU CREATE A MINI-SERIES ABOUT THE JAPANESE WAR CRIMES TRIAL WITHOUT FEATURING JAPANESE WAR CRIMES?????

Astounding. I’m truly astounded. Where to even begin.

1. The protagonist

GUESS WHO IT IS. No really, guess. In a movie about the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal, guess who the main character is. I guarantee you won’t get it.

It’s the Dutch Judge.

WHY?

The Judge, btw, doesn’t even have any kind of personal or professional link to the Japanese occupation. Even when the protag is asked by a stranded German diva about how he must have suffered during the Nazi occupation, he admits that he didn’t have it as bad as others. His family is entirely intact although they were in the Dutch East Indies when the Japanese invaded.

2. The focus of the series

can you fucking guess

it’s the goddamn judges

the entire series is about the trials and tribulations (pun fucking intended) of the GODDAMN JUDGES

DURING SERIOUS TESTIMONY OF VICTIMS AND THE ACCUSED, THE SHOTS ARE OF THE CONCERNED/CONSTIPATED FACES OF THE JUDGES

The mini-series, 4 episodes long, opens with the Dutch Judge writing to his wife and giving some decent introduction to all the major players. And then it brings into focus the various justices from around the world who will be partaking in this historical undertaking.

The President of the Tribunal is Sir William Webb, Australian. He looks great but suffers from terrible lines and staging. BTW all the characters are extremely one dimensional WITH TWO EXCEPTIONS: The British Judge (who veers between an ally, a one-note antagonist, but is then redeemed as an anti-hero - clearly the deuteragonist) and the Chinese Judge, who is soft-spoken, well-mannered, firm but not unyielding, a clear contrast to the fiery and righteous protag of TT(M). Honestly, I think he would be the best portrayal except... halfway through, Irrfan Khan appears as the Indian Judge, and honestly Paul Freeman was so good as the British (Scottish) Judge.

The entire series is about the judges politicking amongst one another and trying to argue about whether crimes of aggression (or crimes against peace) are valid grounds for a case, as these crimes have never existed before (cue arguing about the precedent set by Nuremberg).

Our intrepid (barf) protag intersperses the tense boardroom confrontations (really can barely be called that: a serious point is brought up in court, they adjourn to their chambers, they START to argue, and then the Tribunal President immediately says ok let’s all go retire for the day before any interesting or insightful conversations can begin) with one-on-one interactions with (1) a German pianist diva whom he admires as he plays violin (their duet sucks btw) (2) a Japanese intellectual who hangs out at the beach (they have zero onscreen connection and exists only to instill doubt in the Dutch judge’s mind as he contemplates the trial) (3) various judges as they begin gossiping over the latest judge to pose drama in the chambers.

That’s all. Honestly. That’s the content of the mini-series in a nutshell.

3. The pacing and the script

god it’s so

MEALY

Every scene, EVERY SCENE, is played as grave and solemn

You think this isn’t bad? Every single scene begins with thoughtful pauses and long poignant looks, even over such lines which you can picture your grandpa and uncle just quipping at each other (”The marathon begins” “I’d rather hope it would be a sprint”).

Mealy = the actual script is so awkward. It doesn’t sound like human beings talking. It’s a mouthful. ugh.

Pacing = Example: in episode 3, probably, literally 3 scenes side-by-side, 2 judges talking to each other as they walk down a path. Each scene is: A asks B about C. And then it is immediately followed by D asking C about B. CAN YOU IMAGINE??? They don’t intersperse the shot at all. It’s just 3 conversations in a row gossiping.

Pacing 2 = time passes but badly. Suddenly a year has passed, but we don’t get a sense of it unless we’re told; there’s no difference in appearance or speaking manner among the judges. there’s no real development at all, except for the position of the Dutch Judge whose position on crimes of aggression changes as he gets pulled in several ways by several people, and you end the series without any feeling of resolution or satisfaction. AT ALL. I feel like you end where you start in terms of the arguments and everything.

4. Reflections

I’ve discovered that this mini-series was nominated for an emmy in 2017 for best series. I’ve also discovered 2 reviews (ONLY) online for this series, one on a blog and on one iMBD, both praising the series for being good for history buffs that showcases an unknown part of history.

i) That is not accurate. It is a terrible series that showcases the politics and drama of the tribunal judges, and not of the japanese war crimes. literally nobody needs to know, or care, about the judges of a war crimes trial (british, canadian, US, NZ judge conspire to get the president replaced, he leaves, US judge is chosen as his replacement, HE COMES BACK, NOBODY CARES) (aside with Blakely the US lawyer and what he’s trying to accomplish in court with his controversial and it’s not explained and ignored later)

ii) Historic footage is interspersed, meaninglessly. This includes the footage of the accused and 2 victims giving testimony, I believe. It is THE MOST INTERESTING part of the series. The footage used is minimal. And it just doesn’t gel with the whole series as a whole.

iii) This show was made by a Japanese crew and NHK so.

All in all, from an entertainment perspective, Tokyo Trial failed to be compelling, interesting or noteworthy. The actors were bogged down by a bad script and weak direction. If you want to watch a show about the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal, watch the older Chinese movie - less accurate but way more entertaining, and it ACTUALLY focuses on Japanese war crimes.

#tokyo trial #netflix #review

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kiruuuuu · 5 years

Text

Thatcher/Lesion oneshot in which Lesion has a tattoo and Thatcher hates it. (Rating T, fierce denial and fluff I suppose, ~2.5k words) - dedicated to @glazkov-smile who put this ship into my brain where it now festers and grows shakes fist

The first time Thatcher catches a glimpse of it, all he feels – curiously enough – is betrayal.

No part of it makes sense, it’s neither his body nor his decision and yet it’s as if he’s been deceived in some way, left in the dark about a topic concerning him personally. It’s irrelevant how nonsensical his emotions are because they’re there regardless and no amount of logical arguing with himself is able to make them vanish. He can’t rationalise it even if he tries, and he tries desperately. He’s merely being a judgemental old fart, probably, something he’s been called before in differing contexts. But he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

It was no longer than a second: Bandit pulled on the back of Lesion’s collar to drop an ice cube into his shirt, and Thatcher just happened to look over at the commotion and saw colour lick at the back of Lesion’s neck, usually hidden by whatever garish shirt the man inexplicably chose to wear that day but now revealed in a flash of ink. And it’s enough to conjure up a profound disappointment in Thatcher.

They’ve known each other for years now, stayed in contact where Smoke exchanged irregular messages which taper off now and then, only to rekindle once in a blue moon. No, Thatcher and Lesion wrote and called almost every week, given their work permitted it, left messages on a variety of media depending on their current location and sent each other postcards even, both of them carefully and happily maintaining an unlikely friendship. They differ in many regards though not the most important ones, and thus remained pointed towards each other like magnets. Friendships like this one are rare, Thatcher has come to understand this all too keenly.

And he can’t stand tattoos.

To him, they’re much worse than gaudy jewellery, flamboyant clothes and unnaturally dyed hair together – not only are they alarmingly permanent but also usually horribly tacky. Who cares if someone managed to father a child? Congratulations, they fulfilled their purpose the way nature intended, no need to plaster their kid’s heartbeat or birth date or entire bloody face all over their arms and legs and basically rub it under everyone’s nose. He doesn’t care to know the names of people’s partners nor is he interested in cringy quotes or supposedly deep and symbolic bullshit which allegedly holds so much meaning for its bearer. They’re ugly. They mar skin instead of decorating it.

He much prefers freckles, scars, stretch marks, hair, natural discolouration, any sort of blemish which tells him this person is alive and breathing and not airbrushed or genetically engineered to look this way. He doesn’t care tattoos have been around forever, to him they’re a disgrace and can erase all his interest in someone. Can, and have.

Thinking back, he’s fairly sure he ranted about this to Lesion’s face before, was met with the usual calm patience tinged with amusement whenever he complains about something at length, earned no more than a half-reply implying his position was at best a bit too extreme and at worst complete and utter dogshite in Lesion’s opinion. He’s never dismissive about it, merely pokes fun but ultimately chooses to respect Thatcher’s views which is probably one of the reasons why they’re still friends.

So when he catches sight of precise strokes lining Lesion’s back, Thatcher is appalled. Indignant. Offended, even.

He needs to see it.

Just like he demands details about all the unnecessary so-called ‘apps’ most people around him use so he can judge them accordingly, curiosity grips him in its iron hold and compels him to view the entire disaster Lesion immortalised on his body for reasons unknown. Maybe it’s linked to a previous partner, a family member, a time in Lesion’s life about which Thatcher knows nothing yet, something deeply personal – in which case he’ll still disapprove of the ink but possibly gain more insight into his friend’s past. In that case, it’d be a worthwhile endeavour despite the knowledge of what exactly is tainting Lesion’s skin. He won’t be able to unsee it afterwards.

“Do you want to fight?”, he interrupts Lesion’s current conversation and gets a good-natured laugh from his friend and a concerned look from Ying in return.

“I thought we agreed not to argue politics in the workplace anymore”, Lesion replies cheerfully and moves his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other, Thatcher’s gaze following its journey momentarily.

“You said you were a little rusty in whatever fancy martial arts style you always torture the recruits with, so I thought you could use a refresher.”

“It’s much too warm to fight”, Ying points out and Thatcher barely bites back a response along the lines of that’s the point.

Lesion ignores her statement and leans back in his lawn chair, one of Rainbow’s most sought after commodity in summer – ants are prevalent and therefore sitting in the grass ill-advised. “Even if I did, I’d go to Yumiko and not you – no offence.”

“I bet you’ve been doing it for longer than she has.”

“Possibly, but she’s still lengths better.” The younger man raises an amused eyebrow. “Mike, are you bored?”

Oh. It’s the perfect excuse, his entire team is known for their eccentric solutions to boredom as well as striking fear into everyone’s heart as soon as it looks like they’ve got nothing to do. “Yes”, he lies smoothly, “so you can either join me willingly or spend the rest of the day anticipating a non-consensual fight. I’ll know when you least expect it, Tze Long.”

“Sounds like you don’t have a choice at all”, Ying sighs, shaking her head. “Men.”

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t jump on the opportunity to roll through the mud with Elena, my dear”, Lesion comments casually after which neither of the two stick around for long enough to watch her turn crimson and splutter at the accusation. “So, tell me. Was this a misguided rescue mission or do you need my help with anything embarrassing?”

Thatcher blinks at the unexpected question until he realises his excuse sounds so terribly flimsy Lesion didn’t buy it for a second, correctly assuming an ulterior motive. Even if he’s nowhere near guessing it. “Oh, neither. I really just – it was a genuine suggestion and I…” He trails off when crinkles appear around dark eyes.

“Aren’t we a little too old to kill time by beating each other up? Let’s go drink some green tea to cool down instead, shall we?”

His objection dies on his tongue as his friend turns away, wearing a small smile. “I don’t even like green tea”, Thatcher protests quietly yet trails after Lesion nonetheless.

“Let’s go swimming.”

Lesion pauses visibly, marks his spot on the page he’s currently on and then glances up sceptically. “Now?”

Yes, Thatcher almost blurts out but catches himself just in time, checks his watch and pretends like he didn’t completely lose track of the hours ticking by purely because of Lesion’s presence. It’s a common occurrence, oddly enough. “Of course not”, he scoffs, “but what about tomorrow?”

“Where is this coming from? We’ve never gone for a swim together, you prefer going alone.” Fortunately, there’s no suspicion in his voice, only curiosity.

“I just thought you might want to join me. When’s the last time you went swimming?”

“Yesterday. Meghan invited me.”

Ah. Thatcher squints before he can help himself – they probably spent the time showing off their respective tattoos, and for some reason this thought makes it worse than as if Lesion had gone with anyone else. Even Blackbeard. “Well. If you don’t want to, that’s fine”, he concludes curtly and directs his attention back to the book in his own lap, fighting down another wave of dismay. So others are allowed to see it, apparently, where he’d not even been aware of it at all.

“What? Of course we can go, I was just surprised -”

“Nah. Nevermind.”

“Mike.” There’s gentle exasperation in Lesion’s voice now and he leans forward in the armchair which has become basically his over the course of several months – it bears his imprint and smells of him. Not that Thatcher would know. “I didn’t say no.”

“I’m busy tomorrow anyway”, he lies through his teeth and wonders whether he sounds cranky.

Lesion silently examines him for a few seconds longer, expression unreadable, and finally shrugs. “Alright. If you do want to go, just let me know.”

The doors of his wardrobe have mirrors. It’s the perfect plan. Thatcher buys the Dutch beer Lesion likes so much, and while Maestro is in the middle of listing all the exotic animals he’s eaten in his life with Smoke listening intently (and probably adding quite a few to his bucket list), while Mute snitches on Bandit’s newest plan to Sledge, while Sledge pointedly ignores Maestro’s hand slowly creeping up his thigh – while all of them are gathered in Thatcher’s living room, he makes sure to spill some of it down Lesion’s back.

“Whoops”, he says after his friend has jumped up with an undignified noise of surprise and hopes dearly that either none of the others watched him very deliberately tip his bottle or that they at least know to keep their mouths shut. “Come on, let’s get you something else to wear.”

“Why did we even stay in if I end up smelling like pub anyway”, Lesion complains weakly on the way to the bedroom, lamenting the wasted drink and accepting the fresh t-shirt Thatcher presses into his hands. “Thanks. You can go ahead.”

Thatcher pauses, hovering uncertainly. This – isn’t how it’s supposed to go. The last time, Lesion undressed in front of him without any qualms and he hoped it would be the same now, positioned his friend between himself and the mirrors so he’d get a good look no matter what. “I, uh -”

“Do you want to watch me change?”, Lesion asks, audibly entertained.

“No, I just – you probably need a towel, right? To get rid of the beer.”

“Sure”, the younger man agrees easily and Thatcher nods more to himself than for his benefit, leaves the room and dashes as soon as he’s out of eyesight. He’s never fetched a wet towel faster in his life, hoping to at least see part of it if Lesion’s in the middle of undressing, yet when he returns, Lesion is still wearing his soaked shirt. As well as a meaningful smirk. “Thank you, Mike. I’ve got it from here.”

No, he’s not going to let this opportunity pass. “Are you sure you don’t need help with your back?”

“Do you want to see it that badly?”

Oh.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Your personal vendetta against my shirts. It took me a few days to realise why so many of them ended up ruined, stained, ripped or threatened. You’ve not seen it before, have you?”

He hasn’t been that obvious. Has he? Thatcher considers denying everything but his curiosity prevails, triumphs over the prospect of never living this down. Defeated, he shakes his head, prepares for the inevitable ribbing yet is merely awarded with Lesion’s fingers reaching up to unbutton his soiled shirt, a gesture so hypnotising all speech evades him.

“I didn’t know you were that interested”, Lesion comments nonchalantly as if the temperature in the room hadn’t just jumped up a few degrees – or maybe Thatcher is experiencing a heatwave, yet whatever it is, his face is burning.

“I’m not”, he replies petulantly and is in the middle of justifying all his actions to himself in his head when the piece of fabric drops, carelessly gets discarded, and then Lesion turns.

It’s -

Well, it’s large, first of all, covering the entirety of his back and seemingly continuing even below the waistband of his trousers, just shy of curling all the way around his ribs. The ink is vibrant and mesmerising, no part of Lesion’s natural skin colour visible between all the vivid colours crassly at odds with everything Thatcher considers desirable. To him, it looks more like a yakuza tattoo than anything else, the motif of a roaring tiger familiar yet kept in a more tasteful style, no cartoonish bulging eyes or exaggerated features. Part of it is shiny with moisture, making it look even more recent and amplifying the otherworldly feel of it.

And it’s still a tattoo, even if the fact that it’s Lesion’s back changes something about it; even if the outline of his shoulder blades, the dip of his lower back, the gently curved spine do something to Thatcher, its nature remains intact. He doesn’t know why anyone would choose to deface their natural beauty like this, would spend a horrendous amount of money on something this hideous, would endure a million needle pricks only to look like this.

He also has no idea why he can’t stop staring.

A detail catches his attention and, without thinking, he lifts his hand and brushes over the tiger’s face with a thumb, the skin warm and slightly sticky. “He’s got a scar below his eye”, Thatcher murmurs and fights hard to keep this odd, uncalled-for reverent tone out of his voice.

“Do you want to watch him dance?”, Lesion asks him quietly and his brain is too occupied to process his words, discern the meaning behind them because – surely, he’s not -

The air is thick around them and it’s not only a byproduct of the season; it’s not stuffy yet heavy nonetheless, struggles against Thatcher’s deep inhale. His other fingers join his thumb in resting on intricate swirls, scared to move in case they smudge the ornate ink. “What do you mean?”, he hears himself mumble, possibly hoping for a repetition only, not even a clarification.

“Oh. Nevermind.” Lesion’s reply is soft and it sounds like he’s grinning. “I’m glad you seem to like it though.”

“I don’t”, Thatcher protests immediately and withdraws his hand, suddenly light-headed with the rush of oxygen, air flooding his lungs, returned to normal from one second to the next.

His friend throws him a look over his shoulder and he really looks like the Cheshire cat for some reason, as if he’s having the time of his life and Thatcher feels like he missed something somewhere along the way. “Alright”, Lesion agrees readily.

They get him cleaned up and into Thatcher’s shirt without any more interruptions, but when he turns to leave, the Brit holds him back yet falters at the expectant, amused and open smile with which the gesture is met.

“How about”, he begins, suddenly sheepish, “we go swimming this weekend?”

And to his relief, Lesion nods immediately, grinning and extremely pleased with the suggestion. “Of course. I’d love to.”

#rainbow six siege #thatcher #lesion #thatcher/lesion #fanfic #oneshot #had I known I'd get myself stuck I never would've encouraged you #all it took was those 1k words you wrote #I already have more ideas #crying

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barberwitch · 6 years

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First, I wanted to say I love your blog. The things you post are really interesting and helpful. You also provided great answers to my last question. I realize this is probably a stupid question, but please bear with me, as I'm new to magick: What are the differences between witchcraft, sorcery, conjure craft, and cunning craft? How does one distinguish between them? And is sorcery actually a branch of magick, or is it simply the stuff of fantasy?

It’s not a stupid question at all. It gets confusing for sure.

Conjure Craft refers to Hoodoo. An African diasporic traditionthat developed when slaves were brought to America. It has someAmerican/European folk influence and a bit of Christianity as well. Not allconjure or rootworkers consider themselves witches, in fact a lot don’t. Whilesome Hoodoo practitioners may be witches, it can be seen as a separatepractice. Hoodoo is different than witchcraft. I’m not the most wellversed since I’m not African American, but conjure refers strictly to certainBlack traditions. Some traditions may accept people not culturally tied to thetradition through initiations, but this takes time and dedication to reallyknow what you’re doing. Its something that should be learned and practicedthrough the community of practitioners. African diasporic traditions weren’treally meant to be practiced (or at least learned) in a solitary fashion. Theyare based in community in a way that’s hard for westernized society tounderstand sometimes. Rootworker, root doctor, conjure and conjure doctor areall various terms that people accept as their practice/descriptor.

(Note: this is a summary and amalgamation of a few conversationswith native practitioners)

Cunning craft is another folk tradition. European in origin,most cunning folk/cunning craft has a basis in European folklore. A connectionto the land, there are folk healers, magicians and dividers. Not limited tostrictly male or female, these were the wise people that the townsfolk dependedon for both mundane and magical assistance. Herbal remedies, placating nativespirits and fae on behalf of individuals or the town in general, protectionsagainst evils of malevolent spirits and witches. These are just a few examplesbut in many cultures, they have their own names that in modern times have justbeen placed under the umbrella of cunning craft: Faery Doctors, benandanti,hexenmeister, vedmak, kloge folk, and even curanderos can fall under thisumbrella. In many cases, as the Christian church gained traction with the localgovernment, authorities and people, cunning folk fell under scrutiny and dealtwith persecution either from demonization for practicing magic, or forencroaching on other’s businesses like barber-surgeons or physicians, or evenduties that the church would want like anointing of the sick and blessings.They weren’t viewed as darkly as “witches” though as they in some cases didtheir workings through God and nature like Pennsylvania Dutch folk magic, orcuranderos. There’s a lot of history and lore connected to cunning folk, andeach culture, though similarities are obviously present, are uniquely theirown. Additional research is highly suggested.

Witchcraft in general is a term used for anything done throughothernatural/ supernatural means. The term is popular and a large umbrella thatfor simple means, covers most ritual magic, folk magic, Wiccan magick,superstitions and things unexplained by science in a nature based world view.Honestly it gets hectic because then how do you differentiate eternalsupernatural, paranormal, etc etc.

Witchcraft refers to any spell or working done by a witch.

Sorcerer in the English, can be applied to certain traditionsincluding some cunning craft. Wise men, wizards etc really comes down tosemantics and preferences in the grand scheme of things. There are othercultures and languages that the English translation is “sorcerer” but, takingit out of the language makes it hard to parse out the cultural implications fordesignating someone as sorcer, healer etc…usually, when these translationscome up, the term sorcerer is used to differentiate the people from “witches”who historically were viewed as evil, or dark in nature. Almost viewed as likecousins to witches, but not a witch themself, it again turns around to whatthey do in service for others.

Now there’s so much more to say, but since these terms crossmany cultures, individual research should be something you do if it interestsyou. In some cases a sorcerer was named for doing one thing (maybe multipletimes) and nothing else. Maybe they just do banishing, or blessings. Same withcunning folk: they may just come out during celebrations and do divination, orlead ceremonies for a prosperous harvest, or heal broken arms. It all variesand even in the smaller lens of looking at a country and their tradition, itvaries town to town because it is a folk practice, highly dependent on the areathey’re located, the people around and the way they view the world or theirworkings or magic in general.

Another small thing, when you get into these traditions, there’s one common thread connecting conjure, cunning folk, and sorcery that isn’t obvious in this rennaisance of witchcraft and occultism.These terms were bestowed, and earned. They weren’t taken. The people who these folks were around had these titles given to them for better or for worse. They were given by the teachers. There aren’t easy ways to be a cunning person. There aren’t easy ways to become a Root doctor. There aren’t easy ways to be a sorcerer. Because by their history, they were bestowed only after proving themselves, and doing the work.

🦇Cheers, Barberwitch

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scarlet-medows · 5 years

Text

| Evelyn Flynn RDR2 OC |

B A S I C S:

Full name - Evelyn "Evie" Flynn

Age - 24

Gender - Female

Sexuality - Bisexual

Pronouns - She/Her

Evelyn Flynn is a young 24 year old woman. She's got milk chocolate curls with a reddish undertone that cascade down past her bottom, lovely golden tan skin that seems to have an almost a glow to it and deep emerald lakes for eyes. She's about 5'9" thanks to her father's height. Both her face and body are covered in light freckles. Evelyn is very well endowed and is proud of it. A large bosom, slender waist, large hips and legs that go on for days. Like Molly, Evelyn usually has her face all painted up, lips stained with a berry mixture her mother used to wear. She does have a bit of a faded scar on her left knee, from when she fled from the O' driscolls as a child. Also has a scar that runs from her lower back and wraps around her hip, ending below her navel. Evelyn has a small face with big doe eyes and big plump lips, perfect for baiting people into doing stuff for her or tricking them into giving her stuff.

O T H E R:

Family - ( Deceased) Mother, Ciara Flynn[Key-ra], 26 came from Ireland as she wanted to explore the world and find herself. Well she found Evelyn's father (Deceased) George Wilkson( Flynn, he took her mother's name as her mother was very stubborn on keeping it.), an escaped slave, 30. George was part of a gang who got slaughtered by the O'driscolls when she was a young child. Her mother was raped in front of both her father and her before getting a bullet to the brain. Her Father had told her to run while the others were busy with her mother and to never look back. Tears stinging in her eyes, she bolted, tripping on a rock and alerting some members nearby. The second gunshot spurred her to pop up quickly and run for as long as her legs would carry her. She also did have a brother Conor, 14 (Deceased). He was a sickly boy and died before the slaughter. Evelyn loved him, she learned as many medical skills as a 12 year old could understand to try and help him. She also had two sisters, ( Whereabouts are unknown) Saoirse, 21 and Ruby, 22. Ruby was from a previous marriage her father was in, his wife had died of pneumonia.

Birthplace - Strawberry, West Elizabeth.

Jobs - Con artist / Thief / Medic (Doctor) She was a farmer/ Rancher with her family.

Phobias - Autophobia, Being so young and innocent, she was used and abused by many who exploited her kindness and friendship. PTSD, from the whole family death. Depression, Again from her family's slaughter and people walking all over her. Abandonment issues, from the abuse people put her through, using her for their own gain while she tried her absolute best for them and thought of them as friends and family.

Guilty Pleasures - Chocolate, Drinks and loves to knife fight (5-Finger Fillet).

Hobbies - Horse riding, Conning men into buying her stuff, Sketching, playing Guitar, Reading, Dancing, Maintaining her knife collection, Journaling, Sex.

M O R A L S:

Morality alignment - Neutral Good

Sins: Lust, wrath, Envy

Virtues - Courage, Justice, Wit, Liberality, Honor, Friendliness

T H I S O R T H A T:

Extrovert

Organized

Open Minded

Calm/ Anxious (Depending on the situation)

Agreeable / Disagreeable/ In Between

Cautious / Reckless / In Between

Patient

Outspoken

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Traditional / Modern / In Between

Hard working / Lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S:

Key: ♡ love interest, ☆ Liked Person, ♧ Disliked person, ○ Acquaintance, ? Unknown

☆ Arthur Morgan: Evelyn loves how sweet this man is. He's always been very kind to her, treating her as an equal. They often chat and go horseback riding together. He also helps her hone her gunmanship skills from time to time.

☆ Abigail: Evelyn Admires her dedication and love for her son Jack. Also thinks her strong personality is Amazing. Wants to be her friend but is scared to be a bother.

☆ John Marston: Whoo boy. If John wasn't married, she would have jumped his bones so quickly. He doesn't talk to her that much unless he's sloppy drunk. She's gotta be careful when he's like that, all cute like that all clingy and touchy. She envys Abigail.

○ Jack Marston: Ehhhh.... Not a lot here. Evelyn isn't really a kid person. She'll be nice to him if he approaches her or play with him if he wants. She'll do her absolute best if tasked with watching / caring for him.

☆♡ Sadie Adler: Oh. Oh oh oh. Sadie could punch her teeth in and she'd mumble her thanks. Evelyn often wonders what her lips feel like, the taste of her sweat. Sadie is the closest thing to a friend Evelyn will allow. They're always getting into all kinds of mischief. Evelyn hasn't made any advances on Sadie because she doesn't want to ruin what they've got going on now. Evelyn highly respects her.

○ Tilly Jackson: Evelyn isn't too sure about her. Tilly' s nice enough, inviting her to play cards or dominoes, but they both seem to be holding back for some reason.

☆ Lenny Summers: He's a good one. Evelyn enjoys watching him go about his day. Doesn't mess with him because she doesn't see him that way, he's a good egg. Evelyn thinks he wouldn't be okay with just sex. He seems to be a deep relationship type guy. Regardless, he's very sweet on her, leaving her favorite flowers at her tent or having daily chats and sharing guard duties. Evelyn thinks she could try and start to let herself count on him to have her back.

☆♡ Molly O'shea: Evelyn was definitely star-struck when she first met Molly. She thought she looked like a goddess. If Evelyn thought she could, she'd sleep with Molly. They don't talk too much anyways. Molly is kind enough to Evelyn. Often, Evelyn will get into fights with Micah and Sean when they do try to poke at Molly.

○ Dutch Vander Linde: Evelyn stays away from Dutch. She isn't down with the weird vibes he has around him. Tries her best to stay in his good graces after being accepted into the gang.

☆ Hosea Matthews: Evelyn adores him. She does hang around him a lot, worrying over every cough, groan or wince. She looks up to him and is completely down for any "acting" jobs he might need her for. She works a majority of her jobs with him.

♡ Sean Macguire: Oh Sean. Boy is he annoying, but oh is he fun. Anything, Anytime, Anywhere. Evelyn remembers the huge bustle in camp over the return of Sean, the party that lasted days. She danced with him a couple times after getting acquainted with him, engaging in a little drunken groping and one thing led to another. Sean is very sweet to her in his own way.

☆ Charles Smith: High respect for this man. Evelyn loves that he has such a respect for life. He taught her how to hunt and gather.

♧ Leopold Strauss: Evelyn finds him extremely creepy even though the run in the same Business. Steers clear of him.

♧ Mr. Pearson: Evelyn finds him annoying. She told Sadie she'd help her hide his body. Nothing else really.

♡ Kieran Duffy: Ever since Arthur had hauled him back and Dutch had him tied up, she felt this instant connection to him. After everyone had gone to bed, she'd sneak him small bits of food and water, checking on his general health. During the day, she'd talk with the other girls about him. " he's just so cute, I wanna eat him up~" she would purr, biting her lip as she scanned him from across camp. " you're insane." Tilly would scoff, brushing her off. "Mm.." She replied, never taking her eyes off him for a second. After he was accepted into the gang, she grew bolder with her advances. " Sure, I'll help you out, if you kiss me." She'd tease him when he'd ask her for help. She loves seeing his eyes go all wide and his ears burn red. Eventually he warmed up to her, taking her up on her offers. Kieran was the sweet peach she'd been craving. Evelyn goes fishing with him all the time and chats with him while he tends the horses.

☆ Mary-Beth Gaskill: They don't talk much, but Evelyn has a soft spot for her and is sceretly rooting for her to go get Arthur.

☆☆ Karen Jones: These two may or may not have drunkenly made out once... or twice. Evelyn is Karen's right hand woman in fucking around with men. Best drinking buddy too.

♡ Javier Escuella: Evelyn is infatuated with this man. He's the one who introduced her to Dutch and the gang. One fateful night at the saloon and these two have become pretty much entangled. Can't keep their hands off each other, they're constantly teasing each other, seeing who'll break first, always fighting for dominance. Evelyn loves to listen to him sing. They, when not in the throes of passion play guitar together, and often rob people and play 5-Finger Fillet. The pot is at 250$ right now.

○ Uncle: Evelyn checks in with him from time to time but, not much else. She does delight in singing raunchy songs around the campfire with him though.

??? Josiah Trelawny: He's unknown to her. She saw him once, very briefly.

☆ Reverend Swanson: she sits with him and just listens to his ramblings. She swipes bottles from him "You said to help you, I'm helping you!" Which then he'll go on a rant about how horrid he is. She protects him from Micah often. She gets it. People in pain understand each other.

♧? Micah Bell: Micah is a huge question mark to Evelyn. He disgusts her but she feels like there's more to him. Now that doesn't excuse his extremely insidious behavior. He harassess her sexually and racially, but she just fires back at him. " You only wish you knew my embrace." She's stabbed him a couple times from him getting a little too full of himself. Ain't nobody own Evelyn.

☆ Bill Williamson: Evelyn finds him cute. She can more than not confuse him and trick him into things. She figured out Bill's a big softie for praise. So she constantly complements him on his appearance and how fantastic he's done on a job or a chore. He's kinda like a big dumb puppy. She allows him to get a little handsy when he gets drunk only because she can see how lonely he is. She understands that more than anybody else.

♧♧ Susan Grimshaw: Oh boy do these two hate each other. " Another whore." Susan had mumbled under her breath when Javier had brought her in. Evelyn had immediately come after her. " The fuck did you just call me bitch? Oh~~ I get it. You're just mad because I'm young and beautiful. Well guess what? I ain't going anywhere anytime soon." She had smirked, cocking her head to the left. " I do so ever look forward to working with you." She sneered. These two constantly fight even though Evelyn pulls her weight and then some in the gang.

O T P:

Evelyn Flynn x ???

Not sure yet~♤

#meet my ocs #my ocs #ocs #red dead redemption 2 #evelyn flynn rdr2 oc #character bio

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dustedmagazine · 6 years

Text

Listed: Leverage Models

Leverage Models started as the latest project from Shannon Fields (late of the much-missed New York collective Stars Like Fleas, and who’s also worked with everyone from Helado Negro to Rhys Chatham, JOBS to The Silent League). After 2013’s highly-praised self-titled debut on Hometapes, Fields wound up assembling a touring band that would wind up making Leverage Models’ newly-released sophomore record Whites(which, for reasons both personal and political, was made in 2015 but is being released now, partly as a fundraiser for the Southern Poverty Law Center). Joined by singer Alena Spanger (of Tiny Hazard) and all three members of the very powerful trio JOBS, among others, in their own words "Leverage Models makes pop songs about transubstantiation, ritual abuse, political apathy, divorce, white collar criminals, poverty, white liberal guilt, anxiety, & self-harm. With roto-toms." In his review, Dusted’s Ian Mathers says about Whites, "Musically, this album would be just as impressive if it had come out in early 2016, but back then maybe more people would assume the high-stakes intensity of the songs here were worrying too much. Sadly, the subsequent time has only shown again and again how appropriate that aspect of Leverage Models’ work really is." For Listed, Fields and Spanger provided a list of current inspirations and overlooked art pop.

Alena’s Current Inspirations

Life Without Buildings—"The Leanover"

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The way that this singer, Sue Tompkins, approaches melody and lyric is hypnotizing to me. I love how she continues to repeat words—almost slogans—and alter their pronunciation until they seem to lose their original meanings and become more about the sound of the words. I typically wouldn't love the 90's alt rock aesthetic, but the steady, unobtrusive accompaniment provides the space needed for her vocals to live in.

Francis Bebey—"Pygmy Love Song"

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I've been incessantly listening to Francis Bebey for months now. He seems to lean into the rawness and outer edges of what the voice can do. I love the way he mimics the bamboo flute with his voice on this song.

Lizzy Mercier Decloux—"No Golden Throat"

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I sometimes feel like I need to shake off everything I learned from years of studying music and get to back to a more fundamental, raw approach. Lizzy is one of those untrained inspirations for me. She barely knew how to play the guitar and started singing not long before this album came out. This resulted in such adventurous, unselfconscious music. She is at once playful, unbridled, and searingly direct. She wasn't really respected in the NY scene when this record came out, and was by some seen as an imposter, reliant on her male collaborators to hoist her up. After digging deeper into her music, it's obvious that she possessed great artistic autonomy and vision and her lack of recognition was a result of unfortunate industry circumstances and sexism. The lyrics in this song are her response to the pressures that's she experienced to sing more conventionally.

Lonnie Holley—"Here I Stand Knocking at Your Door"

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I saw Lonnie Holley play in NY recently and was so moved by the freedom with which he sings and the purity and untouched quality of his music. Every aspect of his performance- down to the smallest movements of his body were connected to the sound and channeling into one cohesive and beautiful statement. He is one of those rare, singular artists, who seems to make art out of everything he touches.

Brigitte Fontaine—"Moi Aussi"

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She is such a badass. I love the simplicity of using just a drum as accompaniment. In this song, she's singing with her partner at the time, a French/Algerian musician, Areski Belkacem who brought some traditional folkloric sensibilities to their music. The effortless blending of theater and music is something I really strive for in my own work.

Shannon

I needed to give myself a theme so I decided to select some of what I think are overlooked vintage art-pop coming out of the post-punk 80s into the and slick new-agey, ‘world music’ appropriating 90s. I’m completely taken in by that era of experimentation and production right now, though I can’t say why. I find myself drawn most to the songs that effortlessly stumble into choices I don’t always understand. They don’t seem like they’re out to destroy any genre conventions so much as they seem blissfully ignorant of them. Certain moments shock me as to how much more relevant and contemporary the MIDI/electronic, experimental and arty music is as compared to the 60s & 70s guitar-based music that’s ruled for so long (and which has nothing at all to offer a lot of younger musicians I talk to these days). I could have easily made this list 20. This was hard.

Che—I ‎(Narcotic, 1987)

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What a confusing record. Half of it is very eccentric, slightly woozy funk. With the subtlety-obliterating rhythm section of Art of Noise or later New Jack rhythms, cock-rock guitars, and these drunken almost a-melodic passages. The ending of Scream Like A Swiftcould be a codeine-fuelled pass at Jensen Sportag’s contemporary hyper-MIDI, vapor-wave smooth-jazz. Moving The Silencesounds like The Blue Nile but with the kind of ironic detachment (think Arto Lindsay & Ambitious Lovers) that leaves you creeped out and confused rather than crying in your drink. And while I’m a bit black-hearted and prefercrying in my drink, I’m also completely transfixed by this. This song, Jerusalem,just kind of takes my breath away with something entirely unfamiliar: built from slabs of goth and pure Peter-Gabriel world-cheese, it somehow alchemizes into something I have never heard. A whole album of this and I’d have it on repeat with Scott Walker’s Climate of Hunter(which also belongs on this list and is one of the best ‘confuse-core’ records ever made).

Akira Inoue—サファリ・オスティナート (Splash, 1983)

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I’ve seen this song title translated as "Safari Ostinato". I know very little about this person or this album. Somebody help me. It’s the kind of album that repels and compels alternately. It gives you whiplash in the gentlest, most covert way. It’s a sort of adult contemporary, New Wave, jazz fusion MIDI album and this song is both beautiful and bonkers. The whole album is. I wonder if Dutch Uncles have heard this album. I could draw a line from here to there.

Andréa Daltro—Kiuá (Kiuá, 1988)

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Released by the amazing Dutch reissue label Music From Memory. Originally released on Estudio De Invencoes in 1988. Andre Daltro was a singer and the song was, I believe, originally recorded with the band Brazilian "spiritual jazz band" Sexteto do Beco in 1980. But this version trades organicism and chops for drum machine, keys, MIDI sounds, and rattling ambient chatter, both acoustic and synthetic, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever heard…it rivals Arca’s new s/t album for this kind of strange, winsome cyber bel canto transmission from an alien jungle, though far less brooding, no less arresting.

Jane Siberry—Lena is a White Table (The Walking, 1987)

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I knew Jane Siberry later hits and didn’t much care for them. I knew she worked with both Hector Zazou and Barney the Purple Dinosaur. I was not prepared when I first heard this album, The Walking. I believe when she was first signed the industry thought of her as the "new Kate Bush" and wanted to cash in on the mass tolerance for ‘art-rock’ a-la Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush. But The Walkingis to Hounds of Loveas The Blue Nile’s Walk Across The Rooftops is to Laughing Stock’s Spirit of Eden. I love all of the above, but what Siberry and The Blue Nile share in this example is the same kind of epic freedom and reach but a sort of fragility and limitation and ramshackle, almost amateurish quality that make them really humane and relatable to me. The first time I heard this song I confess that my first thought was how much it reminded me of Alena’s old band, Tiny Hazard, who were one of my favorite bands in Brooklyn. I know it seems silly to say it, but somehow this track feels so much less ‘theatrical’ then the same era of Kate Bush…more interior. It feels like a very intimate experience to listen, to the point that I find myself feeling embarrassed for listening in.

Gary Numan—Cry, The Clock Said (Dance, 1981)

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I hesitated to use one of my choices on an artist I feel like everybody knows. But I almost never meet anyone who really knows THIS album (and I know because I push it on everyone). If you only know the playful, cold cyber-punk of the first couple of Gary Numan/Tubeway Army records (which are, to be clear, brilliant, and a big influence on me) you really need to hear this album. At its most extreme corners (of which this song is one) I don’t know anything like it. Gary Numan’s great magic trick, the one I endlessly faun over, is how his disaffected, conventionally ugly, robot voice transforms into something heartbreaking and relatable by the time it reaches my heart (especially on Telekon’s piano-based tracks). I know that’s a cheesy thing to say but fuck you, I need sentiment these days. Anyway, nowhere is it more the case than in this songs arrangement. Musically, it feels entirely alien and also entirely familiar, with Japan’s Mick Karn barely there alongside what sound like Casiotone boss nova beats and the most heartbreaking little chiming synth arpeggio that come and go like a kitten that wakes up momentarily from its drug-induced nap. It’s 10 minutes long. I’ve had it on loop for hours without getting tired of it. I’ve wanted to make something like this for a long time now. Some day I’ll have this kind of restraint.

#11 Bonus Track!

Né Ladeiras—Cruz (Corsária, 1988)

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I also know next to nothing about this Brazilian album, dedicated to Greta Garbo. I read that it was produced and arranged by Luís Cília ,who wrote a song that became a sort of second anthem for the Portuguese Communist Party. The MIDI harps sitting matter-of-factly on top of those plate-reverbed guiro, clave, bells…I want to live inside the room they build. And it’s a lovely, airy progression that never grows tiresome as it modulates in a drifting-down-the-stream sort of way. The ending lifts so high with barely a shrug’s worth of effort. Gorgeous.

#dusted magazine #listed #leverage models #shannon fields #alena spanger #life without buildings #francis bebey #lizzy mercier decloux #lonnie holley #brigitte fontaine #che #akira inoue #Andréa Daltro #jane siberry #gary numan #né ladeiras

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podmore · 6 years

Note

Any book recommendations? I have a craving for something but I can't tell what it is yet and you have impeccable taste so i thought i would ask!

impeccable taste? i adore you

i’ve personally been reading a lot of ya novels recently (and fanfic but i mean…) and i have a lot of books on my incredibly long list of potential future reads, but i wouldn’t say i have very diverse tastes so i hope this suits you! (warnings are off the top of my head so if you think it might be a problem for you, i advise you to do your own research!)

ya:six of crows duology/grisha trilogy - two series popular on tumblr, both extensively plotted out and well executed with lovable characters and illegal hijinks. warnings for violence, noncon, harmful mental health institutions, psychological abuse

all for the game series - good for if you like sports and organized crime novels, bad for you if you have like. any triggers or a desire for fluff. however, it does develop a relationship built on explicit enthusiastic consent, and gives you that warm fuzzy feeling from the “family you make” trope. warnings for extreme violence, torture, noncon, csa, nonconsensual/medical/recreational drug use, alcohol abuse, psychological abuse/torture (i really shouldn’t be recommending this but i love it so much sorry)

carry on - short, fluffy, gay, there’s a magic school and a chosen one with decent worldbuilding. also includes fantasy creatures esp vampires and strong platonic m/f best friendship. warnings for violence and a lot of magic fire and explosions

the mapmakers trilogy (the glass sentence) - i read this series a couple of years ago and i loved how complex the world and ideas were, and the specific way it treated the concepts of time and perception. definitely worth a read. warnings for ??? probably violence and some creepy stuff but i don’t really remember

other fantasy:the hobbit - cliched but good for a reason! it’s definitely an easier read than lord of the rings or the silmarillion, and it was written as a standalone originally so it should be possible to comprehend even if you have no prior knowledge of the universe. warnings for violence? i don’t think it’s that bad but there are fights and such. also thorin is a meanie sometimes

all our wrong todays - time travel! makes you examine our world, creativity, and the concept of normal critically and fall back in love with mundanity. does require some mental gymnastics to keep up but the premise is solid. warnings for ??? i read it in january but remember very little of the specifics (which is not a condemnation of the book, just my memory)

nonfiction:walden, or, life in the woods - okay that misplaced comma bothers me but it’s the official title; thoreau can be a bit wordy to get through but once you get into it you too can feel as though you could be out in the woods building a cabin from felled timber and living off the land and your tiny farm and trading with your neighbors in a simpler time. very thought-provoking and calming. has the same energy as the dutch man i met on the breakwater in a faraway coast town who invited me to his boat for tea and told me to discover who i really was in my true essence

silent spring - i already recommended this book in another ask, but it bears repeating. an excellent thought-provoking read, very politically and historically important, still very relevant today with our astronomical pesticide usage. warnings for depression about the human condition and nagging thoughts about the amount of pesticides lingering in your tissues

mythology:the prose edda + volsungasaga - norse mythology is my fuckin jam okay and it depresses me that there’s so little of it in modern canon but these are fairly comprehensive. bonus if you’re into lord of the rings - you can now understand just how much all the concepts we love are recycled in literature. warnings for fucked up family trees (i drew one to keep track of the volsungasaga and my god) and like a lot of murder

1800s english lit (i think?):pride and prejudice - i know nothing about this beyond movies/tv shows but i know someone who has dedicated their life to the love of it so i’m guessing it’s very good. warnings for the sickest burns in the history of literature lizzie bennet is savage af

i know i’m missing a lot of incredible books, but i’ve strained to remember so much i’m a little burnt out for now; i hope this helps, and i can always add more later if need be! i can also recommend you all the fanfic your heart desires in a variety of fandoms i have read A Lot in my time (and written a little too and can always write more on request it just takes me a long ass time to actually do it sometimes)

#answered #shameless self promo at the end there eep #long post

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reivenesque · 6 years

Text

Not the Best Around: A Johnny Lawrence Fic

It was the kick heard throughout the arena and the second time Johnny hit the mat during the match. It was, however, the first time he didn’t get back up again.

(ao3)

He hated to admit how much the blow to the back of the head really disorientated him. His head was both spinning and throbbing and it took all his will power to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and actually make his way to where his sensei was standing without planting pathetically on his face. Again.

Death before dishonour.

That was the Cobra Kai way.

Wasn’t it?

All of a sudden he couldn’t remember. All he could focus on was what was right in front of his eyes and the sound of his teammates calling him names. He deserved that, it was no doubt. To let a twerp like LaRusso get the drop on him like that was just disgraceful. He deserved the ridicule and the tongue lashing that came his way.

His head hurt more than his face and he could see the smudge of red on his fingertips when he swiped it under his nose.

His sensei’s fingers were hard and calloused and rough when they wiped away the rest of the blood. His eyes were cold and steely and never had Johnny felt like a disappointment than he did at that moment.

“Sweep the leg,” he said and for a moment, Johnny couldn’t understand what his sensei was saying or what he meant. He was desperately trying to focus on his face and his lips moving because his ears were ringing something terrible and he couldn’t concentrate on the man’s words. “Do you have a problem with that?”

In that moment Johnny knew that he truly had lost his sensei’s trust. The trust that he’d painstakingly built and the respect he fought so desperately for… gone.

In that moment he was no longer his sensei’s best student, he was just another disappointment among many disappointments.

He had nothing to lose.

“No mercy,” his sensei said, his eyes steely and his voice cold.

No mercy, Johnny repeated inside his head.

That was the Cobra Kai way.

His head was spinning and his eyes couldn’t concentrate anything that wasn’t in his immediate line of sight. He moved on instinct alone, his sensei’s voice echoing like a resonating chant inside his mind.

No mercy. No mercy. No mercy.

Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy.

That was the Cobra Kai way.

He had nothing more to lose, not the trust of his sensei or the respect of his teammates.

He could feel the heat of Dutch’s glare on the back of his head and it only reminded him that this was his last shot; his only shot. There were no second chances in Cobra Kai. You could only be a winner, runner up was a joke. Anything other than a win was a humiliating loss. It didn’t matter if you lost by one point or by twenty. Whether you lost to the best in the tournament or an annoying worm like LaRusso. A loss was a loss and this was his last shot to make everything right again.

His nose was throbbing and his head was spinning; his eye could see double of everything and the last thing he needed was two of LaRusso. One was enough trouble as it was.

He needed to win. He needed this win and he was going to get it no matter what.

Fair play and integrity – those weren’t philosophies Cobra Kai taught, and up until that match, watching LaRusso take hit after devastating hit and keep going; keep persevering and getting back up against all odds; the tenacity he showed – that was the first time Johnny actually questioned whether everything he’d been taught was right. And to have Kreese even ask that of him, such a gutless move in front over every fighter he looked up to and respected, it showed that his sensei didn’t trust his ability at all. Maybe he never did.

Johnny hated to admit it, but it hurt. More than any kick ever would.

But he did it and he could only watch as LaRusso dragged himself back up to his feet again. That was the moment that it truly really sunk in for Johnny.

He was going to lose.

The elbow to the back of the knee really was just his last ditch effort. When it failed; when LaRusso got back up again, that was the moment he felt an eerie sense of acceptance washing over him like a frothing tide lapping at the shore – like the beach he used to go with Ali. He couldn’t help but remember when Ali used to say his name with fondness instead of scathing hatred. When the things she said didn’t always come out so cold. He missed those times but he had only himself to blame for letting her slip out of his grasp.

Right into LaRusso’s awaiting arms.

He had only himself to blame.

For Ali, for sensei, for his mom being stuck in a loveless marriage with an unkind, emotionally abusive man. That was all on him. It was his fault.

He deserved the loss just like he deserved to lose Ali, just like his sensei deserved a better student and his mom deserved a better son; one who wasn’t such a pathetic loser.

That was it. It was truly the end. He was spent, not so much his physical energy but everything else.

He was going to lose and despite the reality of the situation closing in on him while he had his back to an immovable wall, on the inside, he was at peace with it.

He was going to lose, but that was okay because that was what he deserved. That was all he deserved.

His head was throbbing, his eyes were dipping in and out of focus and whatever blurry thing he could even see was spinning wildly in his sight.

He didn’t even see the kick coming straight at his face.

The velocity of the kick coupled with the fact that he was rushing headlong into it snapped his head back. He could feel the impact and the sound was almost like a hypnotizing whoosh which was a strange thing to notice but it was the only thing he could focus on in the moment before the surreal feeling of disembodiment and then just darkness.

He was out cold before he even hit the mat.

The moment the kick landed. The moment Johnny Lawrence dropped to the ground; a thick, stunned silence seized the entire arena.

No one could believe what they were seeing; that the skinny kid from nowhere had toppled the titans of the All Valley tournament, the feared Cobra Kais. He’d defeated all the veteran members one by one against everyone’s expectations and done what very few had ever managed to do: bring the two time champion Johnny Lawrence to his knees.

The explosion of sound that followed was deafening.

It was only the presence of the officials and the referees that prevented the crowd from engulfing the stage to offer their congratulations to the new champ. Only the members of LaRusso’s corner and his mother were allowed access.

The feeling of euphoria was palpable and the excitement in the air was contagious from one person to the next.

However, as the crowd began noticing the referee kneeling over Johnny who was still on the ground, lying unmoving on his stomach; a hand on the small of his back, the noise and the chatter slowly began seeping away until the heavy silence reined once more. The final nail in the coffin was when the referee straightened up and with a frantic motion of his arm, called for the medics who were standing at the ready on the sidelines.

That was the second time Johnny hit the mat during the tournament, and only the fifth time in his entire competitive career.

But it was the first time he didn’t get back up again.

Tbc.

Special thanks/dedication to all the great, amazing people I met through this fandom and especially the people who helped with information about the technical side of the fighting in The Karate Kid (in true writers fashion, I used almost none of the things I learned though I was very enlightened by the end) but I do cause Johnny a lot of pain and angst before I make him all better again so hopefully that makes up for it.

@thatsweetbobbyfacetho @cobrakaitilidie @cobrakaiseriesfan @wanderingbeauty @brihana25 @missviolethunter @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @kairosandbalance @outforawalkbitkah @cobra-kai-cutie-pie @elenatria @theempressar

#johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #cobra kai #the karate kid #bobby brown #dutch #tommy #jimmy #john kreese #billy zabka #ralph macchio #reiven fics #reiven karate kid fics #fics: not the best around #whump #hurt/comfort #the karate kid fic #concussion

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