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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

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On the eve of planned nationwide demonstrations, I want to offer an overview of the ways the protests in France are being handled by the government so far (and if what you’ve heard is that this is over a 2 year increase in retirement age, please do take a minute to read this post to get a better idea of the context)

1. In Paris on March 21, a CRS (cop) threw a tear gas grenade in the air towards protesters (they’re supposed to throw them near the ground); the grenade landed and exploded on a protester’s head. (x)

2. Massive use of tear gas at every protest, on this vid from March 17 you can see the Place de la Concorde (largest public square in Paris) drowned in tear gas. (x)

3. In Paris on March 20, video of a CRS with a baton hitting protesters who are cowering against a wall (x)

4. CRS grabbing demonstrators in (illegal) chokeholds and dragging them by the neck (x)

5. In Strasbourg on March 21, police trapped about a hundred protesters in a narrow alleyway and tear gassed them from both ends of the alley so they couldn’t escape; an asthmatic person lost consciousness; people who lived there opened their doors and let the protesters enter their houses to get to safety. (x)

6. In Paris on March 20, a CRS shot a protester with an LBD riot gun (rubber bullets) and shouted at him “Pick up your balls now, fucker” (x) (an allusion to the several instances in recent years of protesters having testicle injuries from LBD guns - and non-protesters too, in 2015 a Muslim teenage boy lost a testicle after being shot by a cop with rubber bullets when he was shooting firecrackers in a park on July 14th / Bastille day). A few seconds later in the video another CRS tells the one who said that “careful there’s a camera”

7. In Paris on March 21, a group of 4 or 5 CRS who were dispersing demonstrators, threw a homeless man to the ground who had been shouting at them (hard to hear what he said, the first sentence is “How can you do this job?”), kicking him in the head while he was down and mocking him when he couldn’t get up, calling him a ‘fatso’ and ‘sack of shit’ (the woman you can hear at the end of the video is yelling at the CRS to help the guy get up and telling them “do you lack humanity to this point?”) (x)

8. That same day Macron gave a speech on TV in which he said “the crowd [= the protesters] has no legitimacy against the people, who express themselves through their elected representatives” even though he passed his reform without a vote from the elected representatives—and considering polls show the vast majority (>70%) of the country is against the reform, the “people” and the “crowd” are one and the same. Today (March 22) he gave another TV speech in which he compared what’s happening in France right now to the January 6 US capitol attack.

9. During today’s speech Macron also said “minimum-wage workers have never seen such an increase in purchasing power” which is a mad thing to say in the middle of a cost of living crisis, and he used the term ‘smicard’ in this sentence— the minimum wage in France is called the SMIC and smicard is a derogatory word for minimum-wage workers. He decried the “extreme, unregulated violence” of protesters but had nothing to say about the unregulated violence of his police forces, and instead stoked the fire with contemptuous language that angers people the day before a planned mass protest.

10. Hundreds of protesters (and even people who weren’t protesting but just nearby) have been arrested and taken into custody in “preventative arrests”; the vast majority were then released due to “absence of an offence.” Here’s a thread by a woman who was arrested in Paris along with 11 other women (one was a 17 year-old girl) for taking part in a peaceful protest. They spent 20 hours all in one cell, were only allowed to go to the toilet if they left the door open, were frisked and had their fingerprints and DNA samples taken. Also, in Nantes on March 14, four young women age 18-20 reported having been sexually assaulted by police during body searches while participating in a student protest.

And a thread by a 19-year-old Black student who spent 48 hours in custody last week along with 4 other people who were arrested in Paris as they were walking down the street. Lots of racist shit in this thread. He had already spent 14 hours in custody after a protest a couple of days before, and ended up being charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken.

This article in Le Monde from yesterday (it’s in French and unfortunately paywalled) talks about people who took part in last week’s protests having been handcuffed and searched in their underwear then released free of charges the next day; a lawyer comments how this is clearly meant to discourage people from demonstrating. The article also mentions two 15 year old Austrian boys who were on a class trip to Paris and were rounded up with a group of demonstrators, so the Austrian embassy had to intervene. (Journalist mentions sarcastically “We don’t know if these high schoolers’ DNA samples were taken.”)

11. There are videos from various protests of journalists wearing the press armband being threatened, hit, or shoved to the ground by police. In Montpellier yesterday, a journalist took this photo as a CRS was pointing his rubber bullet gun at his head and another was running at him with his baton telling him “I don’t give a fuck about your press card” —the photographer managed to run away. (x)

This is all from the past ten days (and mostly from the past two days) and far from an exhaustive list, there's so much outrageous stuff happening (like the Minister of the Interior lying and saying participating in an undeclared demonstration is illegal, when it’s not) but it gives a good idea of what French democracy looks like under Macron. The above photo says it all really. And thank you to all the people who continue taking part in the protests and strikes.

#frpol #police violence #not sure what to tag this as #i know it's very far from the usual theme of this blog but people should know what a shitshow this country is rn #all the photos are from the tweets that i've linked

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fursasaida · 2 months

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Emma Saltzberg: Your book chronicles a longstanding struggle over public opinion in the American Jewish world. What are the top-level conclusions you draw from this history?

Geoffrey Levin: The first big takeaway is that this history of American Jewish concern for Palestinian rights isn’t something that started yesterday, or even in the ’60s or ’70s. It goes back to 1948. As long as there has been a Palestinian refugee issue, there has been American Jewish concern for Palestinians, especially coming from Jews who spent a lot of time in the region and were deeply exposed to Israel and to the Palestinians. The second is that this American Jewish engagement with Palestinian rights was frequently influenced by state actors. Sometimes it was the Arab League [an organization of Arab states formed in 1945 to advance their shared interests], sometimes it was the CIA—but most often it was the Israeli government. I uncover this long record of Israeli diplomats trying to manage American Jewish discourse. And the last key point is that American Jewish groups were having nuanced and complicated debates in this period, as early as the ’30s, about the relationship between anti-Zionism and antisemitism. A lot of the groups that are arguing today that there’s a strong overlap between those two things, like the AJC and the Reform movement, didn’t hold that position 70 years ago.

[...]

ES: You also write about some Jewish figures whose anti-nationalist position led them to maintain their opposition to Israel’s creation even after 1948.

GL: A more extreme version of the AJC’s position emerged through the American Council for Judaism, which was an anti-Zionist group originally formed by Reform Jewish thinkers. Before and after ’48, they were against the creation of a Jewish state, but they were not focused on the Palestinian question initially. They opposed Israel because of their anti-nationalism, thinking the state would be bad for Jews. These anti-Zionists were focused on keeping Zionism and Israeli and Hebrew culture from dominating American Jewish life. They were concerned that doing so diverted American Jewish loyalties. Yet ultimately, some within the American Council for Judaism, mostly leaders like Rabbi Elmer Berger who had a lot of exposure to Palestinians themselves, did become strong advocates of Palestinian rights. And then they got kind of nudged out of the organization.

ES: You tell the story of Breira, an anti-occupation Zionist group founded in 1973 that tried to advocate for Palestinian rights in this context of increased Jewish nationalism. What happened to them?

GL: Breira was the first national American Jewish group arguing for what we now call the two-state solution. The leaders had gone to Israel and heard from Israeli leftists and had become convinced that Palestinians couldn’t be ignored forever. They framed themselves as nice Jewish boys and girls—people who wanted what’s best for Israel and for Jewish politics. And every chance they could, they highlighted Israeli voices. But they still ended up getting eviscerated as “Jews for Fatah”—Fatah being the leading PLO [Palestine Liberation Organization] faction—after just a couple of members met with a few moderate members of the PLO. It was an early example of how no matter how much American Jews who want to recognize Palestinian rights try to burnish their Jewish and even Israeli credentials, people will push against that and question their Jewish identity. And that hurt people a lot. A lot of those figures in Breira could have contributed a lot more to the future of the American Jewish community, but they felt really burned.

ES: As you note in the book, some analysts today describe American Jews’ increased criticism of Israel and Zionism as a product of distancing from Israel. But, as the Breira story shows, this stance is often a product of very close engagement with Israel.

GL: I think this is crucial. Millennial and Gen Z Jews who are involved in the Jewish community are far more likely to have gone to Israel than people of older generations, because of all these newer subsidized programs, like Birthright. They are far more likely to have met Israeli shlichim [young adult “emissaries” from Israel] through camp or through campus Hillel, and far more likely to watch Israeli stuff on YouTube and enjoy Israeli cuisine. Younger Jews are far more likely to know Palestinians as well. In contrast, many in earlier generations may have had more positive views toward Israel, but less deep engagement with the actual place and the people living there, both Israelis and Palestinians.

In my book, those from the earlier generations who engaged with Palestinian rights did spend a lot of time over there. They knew Hebrew. When they were advocating for Palestinian rights, whether that meant self-determination, or civil rights for minorities in Israel, or a different approach toward Palestinian refugees, they often came to those conclusions from going there and talking to Israelis and talking to Palestinians.

ES: Why is it important to know this history, as we contemplate different American Jewish responses to Israel’s onslaught on Gaza today?

GL: The characters in this story are people that a lot of experts haven’t heard of before. By unearthing these stories, I show how seriously people were thinking through some of these same questions 70 years ago. I think that one of the most important chapters is this one where I am able to use the archives to put a Palestinian voice at the forefront. Fayez Sayegh was struggling to find a way that was acceptable in American public discourse to talk about Palestinian issues and Arab issues. I think it’s important to write these people back into history, because they were so eager to change the discourse.

These people all kind of failed; they were pushed out. The critical American Jews were fired. I think a lot of American Jews thought the problems would just go away. And I can’t tell you that we would have had peace if the dissenting voices had succeeded. But I do think if they had been successful in getting a more open discourse within the Jewish community 70 years ago, that we would probably be in a healthier place right now, both in terms of the American Jewish community and American discourse more broadly.

#USA #israel #palestine #zionism #jewish antizionism

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stories-and-chaos · 2 months

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Shrike: Body Count

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. I’ve been seeing some stories about Alastor not having understanding the slang for ‘body count,’ so here’s my take.]

[Word count: 1426 Cw: language]

—————

“Really Angel? That’s your bonding activity for the day?” Vaggie’s single eye glared at the lanky spider.

“Whaaaaaat? Charlie wants us to share intimate secrets!” Angel Dust’s voice was full of seductive mischief. “Body count is a very intimate secret. Tells you a lot about someone.”

“Angie’s right!” A cheerful voice called from across the parlor. Cherri Bomb, the hotel’s newest sort-of-resident, didn’t seem much interested in redemption for herself. She did however have a genuine desire to help Angel and to defend what Sir Pentious gave his life for. The busty cyclops was teaming up with Vaggie as part of the Hazbin Hotel’s basic security.

She also had a mischievous streak wider than her friend’s. “I’ll start, give ya a hand Angie.” Angel snorted a laugh saying, “I’ve already got six toots!” She threw an ice cube from her drink at him. “One thousand eight hundred and twenty…” she paused to count on her fingers, “six. Most o’ that’s from Hell. I got to thirty-one before I died.” She leaned back on her couch, looking very satisfied.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer could only stare for a moment. “Whoo, nice going Cherri! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint,” Angel crowed. “Lesse here, before I died it was six. After that…” he did some quick math on his phone, “about 90,000? I’m sure we can review my body…of work to confirm.” He grinned lavisciously.

Charlie waved her hands rapidly. “Nope! No no no no no thank you Angel, you’ve shown us plenty that of that during ‘show and tell’ day.” Lucifer looked vaguely disappointed at missing out so Angel resolved to sneak a copy of his favorite performances to the king of Hell.

Charlie continued, forgetting her dad was in the room. “Mine is six,” she said with a shy air, her pale complexion turning bright red.

“WHAT?” Lucifer spat out his tea.

“Oh shit! Dad!” Charlie was flustered but did her best to compose herself. “I mean, I’m over 200 years old now, I’ve been living on my own for decades!” She took her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it. “Besides, Vaggie is the only one that matters now.” The long haired angel gave her a watery look.

“Well…I guess you’re right sweetheart. So long as they all treated by little girl right?” Lucifer asked with an edge to his voice. At Charlie’s nod he said “Good.” He took a sip of tea before providing his number. “Seventeen.”

“Dad?! I thought…you and Mom…what?!”

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell Charlie. But your mother knows about all of them. She was even there for some.” He grinned wickedly, looking completely like the king of Hell for once.

Charlie buried her face in her hands while Vaggie rubbed her back in sympathy. “Not too shabby short king. Okay Vags, you’re up!” Vaggie glared at him and flipped him off. “Just our fearless leader?” Angel teased. She huffed, glanced back and forth, and held up her index finger as she blushed. “Thank you for your honesty, Vagina. Huskiekins, how about you?” Angel turned around on the couch to face the bar as Vaggie bristled.

Husk sighed as he continued polishing glasses. “Three when I was alive. Nine since I died.” He was fully prepared for Angel to say something like “Wanna make it ten?” but he just received four thumbs up from the somewhat reformed demon.

“Apologies for our lateness,” your voice called from the elevator. “Alastor had to rewrap my wing this morning.” You and your husband walked arm in arm to the group, with Alastor making sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat. Once he was ensconced in the wingback chair, long legs crossed politely, Lucifer popped up to inspect your wing.

“Hm, not bad.” He had you stretched it gently and gave Alastor an approving nod. “Good work deer boy.”

“Oh ho, of course my good fellow!” The lack of static filter on his voice was the most display of annoyance he would give at the moment. He hated the idea of any man touching you, much less Lucifer Morningstar. But he knew he didn’t know how to help your wing injuries without the fallen angel’s help. “I am a quick study after all! Can’t let my darling rely on someone that might not be around, hm?” His smile widened as Lucifer’s growl showed his comment hit home. “So! What are we discussing today, chums?”

“Ooooh, this is gonna be good,” Cherri giggled as Angel replied. “Body count, Smiles. Before and after death for the Sinners in the group. So, what about you and the missus?”

“An odd topic, but alright. You’ve kept a better count than me, cher. If we count the one right before our death mine is seventy-four?” Jaws dropped at your statement.

“That sounds correct. I had eighteen before we met, and a few solo after our initial encounter. That makes ninety-seven for myself,” he said, looking up to calculate mentally. “I believe after my arrival here, my count is five thousand thirty-one. Give or take a dozen.”

You nodded as Cherri breathed “hooooly shiiiiiit,” with an impressed look. “Mine is still more modest, four thousand six hundred and two. Again, give or take a dozen. Of course, about half of those we did together.”

Alastor hummed in satisfaction. “Oh ho, yes that’s true. Would that increase or decrease our original counts? Or should we have a separate list for couples?”

“Fuck me, I didn’t think they were capable of that,” Cherri said in awe. Lucifer blinked one eye, then the other as his brain tried to catch up. Charlie had her hands over her ears and Vaggie was rubbing her temples. On the other hand, Angel and Husk were sharing a confused look.

“Doll face, Smiles, what kind of body count are ya talking about?” He remembered the discussion about your sexual preferences and the numbers didn’t add up. The simultaneous head tilts from you both confirmed his suspicions.

“Is there more than one kind of body count?” Alastor followed up your question with his own, “How can there be more than one kind of body count?”

“We’re talkin bout how many people we’ve slept with.” Angel paused, remembering your difficulty understanding innuendos. “I mean how many we’ve fucked. Boned. Had sex with.” At his clarification you looked somewhat less confused.

“Why would that be called a body count?” you wondered as Alastor looked surprised at Angel’s explanation. “I’m impressed Angel, I didn’t expect you to explain anything.” Audio of an audience applauding resounded in the room.

The spider shrugged. “I promised your gal I’d explain innuendos if she’d tell me what you two do when ya fuck. Ain’t gonna go back on my word, ‘specially with this cutie.” He winked and stuck his tongue out at the two of you.

“Okay, what's your sexy body count then?” Cherri, disappointed that the thousands you mentioned weren’t people you slept with, was even more curious now.

“One,” you and Alastor said in unison.

Cherri spluttered a bit at the difference between the two kinds of counts while Angel nodded sagely. “Yeah, that tracks, considering you’re both ace as spades and the weird shit you’ve done.”

Lucifer, unsurprised at the amount of death and destruction Overlords were capable of, did look intrigued by that. “What do you mean, ‘weird shit they’ve done?’” Vaggie clapped her hands over her ears as Charlie buried her face into the other girl’s hair in embarrassment. Cherri Bomb nodded encouragement to you.

“NO!” Husk and Angel yelled out together. Angel looked straight up panicked as Husk dashed over to block Alastor and you from view with his wings. “Trust me Luci, you don’t wanna know,” Angel stressed, grabbing the short man by the shoulders. “It broke my brain. Mine. The porn star. Don’t ask ‘em.”

“Is the fact that we’ve [redacted] really that upsetting?” Alastor asked from behind Husk’s feathers. “I think it’s more that we’ve done things like [oh no, not this again], cher,” came your cheerful reply.

Husk pressed his wings back, covering both your mouths. “Boss, Y/N, please stop.” Niffty choose that moment to scramble up Alastor’s shoulder and peek over Husk’s wing. “They’ve done [bleepitybleep] too!”

All heads whipped in her direction. The tiny maid looked proud of herself as she added, “My body count is five! Just one from life. That one counts for my murder count too!”

“Okay, new topic!” Charlie stood up abruptly, her face as red as her tuxedo jacket. “Umm, uhhhh, let’s talk about favorite foods!”

—————

Taglist: @whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #asexual #asexual alastor #asexual reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #hazbin cherri bomb

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sssilverstoned · 4 months

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sympathy for the devil ꩜ cl16

type: fluff? besties to lovers? let's say that. a friend is done dirty but is she really a friend? debatable. flashbacks, angst-ish (a guilty conscience is always a great outfit addition, no?)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: language, suggestive but no smut (finger sucking. i was in a mood,) charles is a reformed cheater, so let's say some moral ambiguity all around

lily said: hello hello! welcome to the inner workings of my hyper fixation on summer romances and a couple of bestieeeees who should just be a couple. now that this guy is out the way, i'd love to formally open requests! a drabble, fic, oneshot, hit my line ! we can get into the details of who i do and don't write for later <3

You are not a terrible person. You're not even a bad person, truly. It's something you repeat to yourself like a mantra as you look away from Charles's side profile across the long table.

He's looking like summertime, soft like an afternoon nap, but sharp like a stinging on your skin from too many 5 more minutes called from the patio. His neck is elongated slightly, trying to hear Joris's story over Mirabel's loud laughter. When he leans like that, you can see a peak of the remnants of the hickey you sucked into his pale skin the evening before. Your stomach hurts.

Charles's own nose is red, he's scrunching it on occasion like no one will notice his discomfort, and his necessity for aloe vera. You've packed it in your bag because you know he wouldn't have. He knows to ask you for it later.

You excuse yourself from the long table, your dinner in front of you looking great, but you were nowhere near hungry. When you push your chair back to stand, it makes a low noise against the floor of the garden, and his head whips to you immediately.

It was your friend group's traditional holiday you were gathered for, an annual week at Mirabel's family home right on the water. 4 girls and 5 boys, room assignments remaining relatively static throughout the years. There was that one year Clara and Sammy shared a room, but, as both of them would easily say, it wouldn't be happening again.

"Everything okay, y/n/n?" Peter asks from your diagonal, which makes more heads turn to your now standing figure. You let out an uncomfortable huff, disguised as a laugh. Charles can read you like his favorite book.

Your linen dress clings to your body, yet flows off you effortlessly. He remembers seeing it on a hook in your room, wondering how it would look on your figure when he pretended to not watch you change tops. Reality was always better than fantasy, this he knew for certain.

"I'm alright, just chilly. Want to grab my sweater."

"I'll go with you, want to charge my phone anyway," Emma smiles up at you from her seat, standing up as well.

Charles follows your figure with your eyes until you disappear into Mirabel's villa, then continues to pretend to be listening to whatever Peter has begun rambling about.

"Did you see the way he and Oliver left the pantry in disarray this morning?" Emma's practically hissing her disdain, her shorter legs pumping overtime to catch your gait. You were hoping she couldn't.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Charles," she gags. "Tried to cook breakfast, and of course it was shit. Can't believe you didn't know."

You did, you helped him clean it up.

"I feel like it's quite hard to burn oatmeal," you snort, scrubbing the pot.

"Too much sugar in the pot, I suppose. That's how you make yours, yes? With brown sugar?"

You look back at him from where he was leaning against the counter, watching you help him fix his mess. Oliver had cleaned up the spilled flour on the floor of the pantry, then ran out to get pastries from a bakery before the rest of the villa woke up and threatened his life.

"Surprised you remember how I like my breakfast," you say.

"Why?" he asks, cocking his head. "I know a lot about you."

You click your tongue, suddenly shy under his intentional gaze. Your focus is back on the pot, and a stubborn clump of congealed oats. Charles peers around the kitchen quickly, before coming up behind you, a large hand circling your waist.

"How did you sleep? I realize I didn't ever ask," He drops a kiss to the crown of your head when he finishes speaking, and your breath hitches. Not with love or affection, but with a strike of fear, almost. It was an open air kitchen, and while everyone seemed to be sleeping in, you never really could know who may be stirring about.

"Slept fine. Kept the windows open," you shared a room with Clara on these trips, you two were always the closest of the girls growing up and never minded sharing. She didn't say anything when you came in at 2 am with mussed hair and swollen lips, and you were grateful for it.

"You could have stayed, Joris didn't come in until late."

You finally bristle, dropping the pot onto the drying rack. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

You turn in his grasp, eyebrows frayed in the middle of your face. He hates when you look at him like this. "Y/n, we're not children anymore. We're two consenting adults."

"Emma will hate me."

"And is that worth your happiness? Whether or not your friend, who you aren't that close to, by the way, is mad at you?"

"You cheated on her, Charles."

You clear your throat as you blink away the memory. Emma scoffs again at the thought of Charles. "He even had the gall to come out on the patio at the same time as me this afternoon."

"Everyone was on the patio, Emma," you level, already getting irritated with her tone. She irritated you often, Charles wasn't necessarily wrong about your lack of proximity to her. She was always a bit bratty, but had too much history with the group to be left behind, no matter how much she seemed to irk everyone. "You can't expect him to walk on eggshells around you, he's still a part of the group."

Emma stops walking, but you keep pace. "Are you defending a cheater, y/n?" You're glad you didn't stop.

Your eye twitches, and you're glad that she can't see it. This conversation was draining you, yet it's barely started, and already, it's over. She did this nearly every time they were in the same vicinity, and it was getting old. Or maybe, it was the guilt that you were fucking her ex-boyfriend.

It was a mistake that they dated in the first place. He had just broken up with his long term girlfirend, someone you all never seemed to get along with, and Emma's eyes were always slightly googly for the boy. Her attention was more palpable, and better received, than the rest. So they began to fool around, began to hold hands a bit more at group dinners. You heard her say 'boyfriend' much more than he did, though.

The cheating was a bit egregious, even for Charles. For the sake of everyone's friendships, his romance with her was kept under wraps, the superiority of a professional PR team apparent over gossip columns and nosy fans. It was the nosy fans, unfortunately, that had found Charles in a club somewhere in Italy with his tongue down some model's throat.

She cried, shouted, did everything but rip her own hair out at the photos that surfaced. Perhaps it hurt her most that people were excited to see Charles with the woman, finally seen with someone that wasn't an engineer or Vasseur. They didn't know about her, and frankly, they never would. She was never terribly important to Charles, everyone knew that, and now she did too.

The group had moved on, sans Emma. No one really made fusses about it in the first place, their relationship running its course over only about 3 months. The boys saw it coming and, well, the girls had warned her. A rebound was always obvious to those watching.

The worst part, the part that made you feel so ill all the time, is Charles wanted to be yours, and you wanted to be anywhere but the villa.

You grab your sweater off of the chair at the vanity mirror in your room, bristling at the chill coming from the open window you had left during the night, and now day. You hear the laughter of your friends, of Peter shouting over Oliver, and Charles laughing from his belly. You hate that you can tell his laughter from the rest.

When you sit back down at the table, Clara waits for you to scoot your chair back in and place the napkin in your lap. "You lost her inside, eh?"

You crack a smile, Clara was your most blunt, and funniest, friend. "Had to, lest I hear about Charles's trespasses again."

Clara chuckles into her wine glass. "If only she knew."

In a lowered voice, you turn closer to her. "I think she may actually lose her mind if she found out, Clara."

She rolls her eyes. "Find out what? That you two are obsessed with each other, yet you won't take him seriously? That she was collateral? Shit happens."

"That's not what this is."

"Please. He'd marry you tomorrow if given the opportunity, y/n. Deep down, she knows that was never her anyway."

When you look back up at Charles, he's already looking at you, looking so endearing that you have to look back down at your chicken and roasted vegetables. You're still not hungry.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

It happened quickly, but the buildup seemed to make it inevitable. You were always a friend of the leclercs, your mother's growing an affinity for each other when you were quite young. You grew up alongside the boys, Charles always having a soft spot for you in particular. Charles escorted you every time your father hosted a gala, and voluntarily was your designated driver on nights out. One in particular, 6 months ago, sealed fates.

"Charlie, just take one shot."

"If I take a shot, I won't be driving," he laughs at you, looking at you with little twinkles in his eyes. He and Emma had just finally broken up, the past 3 months couldn't be categorized as anything but odd. After they had notified the group, in their own respective ways, you had seemed to have gotten your fun loving, a tad awkward, but always down for what you were plotting, Charlie back. He had agreed in a heartbeat to meet you and Clara at the club. It makes you grin.

"That's fine, uber exists. Have fun for once, please?" You pout, tequila speaking for you. Everything was already a bit hazy, much funnier than normal, and less serious.

"Yeah, come on Chaaaarlie," Clara giggles knowingly. He'd do anything if you asked for it, this was a fact.

With a shake of his head and faked disdain, he downs the shot, hears your cheers, and suddenly, one shot is seven and you're both screaming the lyrics to an old Fergie song that blasts through the speakers.

Heels were a bad, but stunning, idea. You felt cute and confident, but by the time you had stopped dancing like a mad person to get a drink of water, the balls of your feet began to throb.

"Please don't take your shoes off in this place," Charles begs.

"Don't be my father," you frown. "My feet hurt."

"Your feelings will be what's hurting when someone steals these off the section couch," he points to your feet, and there was a touch of validity. They were Jimmy Choos, after all, and cost more than you could comprehend. Charles often went overboard on your birthday gifts.

"I'll take that risk."

"I'll hold them."

"You won't," you say with a laugh, used to his dramatics. But he shocks you, gingerly picking them off the couch and holding them on his index and middle finger.

"Charlie, put my shoes down."

"I will do no such thing."

Somehow, somewhere between promising Clara you'd text her when the uber dropped you and Charles off at his place, helping him get the key into the lock of his door, and sitting on his kitchen island, Charles finds himself in between your legs, staring into your eyes that had glitter and mascara surrounding them.

It wasn't normal of "best friends" to be around each other like this. He knew that. He hadn't wanted to be just your best friend in a while though, but having you in that capacity was better than nothing at all. Especially when he had seemingly bounced from one girlfriend to the other, and deep down, he knew it was because he was bored. They weren't you, no matter how much imitation was attempted. Perhaps the only person who was aloof to his truest desires, was you.

"You looked very pretty tonight, y/n/n."

"You looked dashing yourself," you wink, "the girls in there told you that though, no?"

He rolls his eyes. "That wasn't anything. Just fans, same shit as usual."

"You usually are being hit on by pretty girls, is what you're saying?" You continue to tease. Charles can't stand your smart mouth sometimes, especially how much he can't help but love it.

"To be fair, I don't really notice. I'm always looking at you, anyway."

You don't have a response for that. He's never said it outright, never crossing the line. But now he has, and there's no going back.

"Charles, you just broke up with Emma."

"I know,"

"You cheated on her."

"I know,"

"I'm your best friend."

His turn to grin. "I know."

In a fashion completely unlike you, throwing caution to the wind felt like the only option, pulling him in with your legs, locking around the back of his waist, lips pressed onto his, hair between your fingers. He tastes like tequila and mint gum, like the things you regret yet adore. He wonders if this means the same to you as it means to him.

When you wake up in his bed, makeup removed and your favorite shirt of his draped over your body, you inhale deeply when you feel the familiar soreness stretching through your lower half, and the weight of his arm roped around your body. Now that you've gotten your taste, you weren't giving it up.

"Did you pack the aloe vera?" You hear him from your doorway, blinking back from yet another memory.

"'S in the bathroom, look in the blue toiletry bag," you call, not looking away from where you were taking your hooped earrings out in the mirror. It was a domestic encounter in a way, like a scene taken out of context 20 years from now. Maybe one day, you'd be on holiday with a family of your own, enjoying silence once your kids were asleep after playing in the water all day. Maybe you'd be actually sharing a room, instead of whatever the fuck this was.

"You seemed off at dinner, everything okay?" Charles asks, rubbing the gel on his soon-to-be-peeling nose.

"Fine," you shrug, turning back to look at him, and not just his reflection. "Just wasn't so hungry. And cold, like I said."

He chuckles a little to himself. "I could tell," he nods with his head down to your chest. Your nipples had pearled, and supposedly, had been pearled, and were obvious through the thin fabric of your fitting dress.

"Jesus Charles," you berate, turning back to your mirror. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm a man," he corrects. "Who's seen what's under that dress and thinks it's a great sight. But I also like your mind and your personality and all that, of course." Idiot. He sits on your bed, making himself comfortable against the headboard as he watches you get ready for bed. Domesticity. "Will you be going back to Monaco after this?"

"No, visiting Clara's family in the states for a little."

He makes a discontent noise. "How long?"

"A week," you answer. "Miami."

"Fun, going to go out?"

"What is it to you?" You ask, half jokingly, half alerted by his series of questions.

He shrugs this time. "Care about you, want to know what your plans are. Is it a crime?"

"No, just makes me fear you're in love with me."

"I'm on my way to that, I tell you that all the time. And you make jokes because you know it's true."

You stand up from the vanity, looking at him with an expression that makes his heart hurt. It's that wounded puppy look, the way you used to look at Arthur when Charles would tell him to fuck off from trying to hang out with the two of you as teenagers.

"I don't really know what to say when you say those things." He stands up from your bed, meeting you where you stand in the middle of you and Clara's room. He still smells just like all your favorite aspects of summer, and that tired look in his eyes from a day of relaxation and release melts you. "I know I'm in my head."

"'S a good head to be in." He moves the strans of your hair that were falling over your forehead behind your ear, smoothing his fingers over your jawline until his fingers lift your chin. "That's better. Couldn't see your face."

"What is this, Charlie?" Your eyes search his, and he hates how scared you look. "Like, seriously. We, we fuck, we sleep in the same bed more than we don't."

"We always have done that, you've shared with Enzo and Arthur before too I'm sure."

"Don't be dense."

"I think that's just how I am, mon amour."

"Such a shithead," you mutter with a huff, annoyed with his smug expression. "I'm being serious. If sex is just what you want, or need, right now, I don't think I can do this anymore."

"It's much more than that to me, don't insult me," He no longer has a grin on his face, mouth turned much more stoic. "My actions precede me, yes," you withold commentary on that, "but I'd never do anything to hurt you, y/n/n. I care about you, think about you all the time, want you wherever I am, always."

A part of you thinks this is what you've always wanted to hear. A gorgeous, successful, personable man who you've grown to trust infallibly your whole life is 5 feet short of professing his love for you, and yet, you can't let yourself fully be happy. Because for the last 6 months, you've ducked and dodged your own friends, not wanting them to know about the two of you. He did cheat, for crying out loud. On someone you have baby photos with. No matter how annoying, or selfish, she comes off, Emma wasn't going anywhere in your life. And you'd be devastated if she did this to you, so he remained your dirty little secret.

"Am I interrupting?" Clara says teasingly from the doorway, a wine glass still in her hands. "Sorry, Mirabel wanted me to check on you."

You clear your throat and step away from Charles. "Not at all. Charlie's got a sun burn."

"Ah. You are pale," Clara notes. "Figures."

"Thanks, Clar."

"Still drinking?" You nod toward her glass. "Pour me one, will you?"

"Sure will." She turns, and you make to follow.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, I think."

"Y/n,"

"Not right now," you say firmly, "please?"

And you've got that withered look, that look that screams exhaustion. Guilt's gonna kill him one day, he's sure.

"Fine."

And with that, you head out the door, leaving Charles in your room, regretting not telling you how he felt about you when his girlfriend told him to. Before Emma took that mantle instead, and before you started looking at him like it was hard to do so.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

Sammy brings it up first, but the entirety of the day was the beginning of the end of secrecy.

The next day had been decided as a boat day, everyone prepared for another long day in the sun, this time on the open waves. The girls had all gone below deck, in search of champagne and a bottle opener, and Sammy and Charles were far enough from Oliver, Joris, and Peter for them to hear a conversation.

"I've got a question I think," Sammy asks. He makes an affirmative noise, head leaned back against the cushions of the lounger, sunglasses sliding down his still peeling nose. "Are you and y/n hooking up?"

Charles immeditely looks up at Sammy, mouth open in a scramble for the most believable way to say no. "No, ah, why would you say that?" oh dear.

"Mate," Sammy winces.

"Fuck me," Charles yanks the glasses off and wipes both hands over his face. He keeps them there when he asks, "how?"

"Leaving hickeys is one thing, her jewelry on your bedside table is another." The central heating unit for their floor was in Joris and Charles's room, Sammy did go to adjust it yesterday morning. Fuck. "Does Emma know?"

"No," Charles says quickly. "No. Y/n doesn't want anyone to."

Sammy quirks his mouth to the side. "Well, are you dating?"

"No,"

"Ah." Sammy looks out on the water, stewing over this confirmed theory of his. You all suddenly appear from inside, cheering with a bottle clutched in Emma's hand, you with the opener. When he looks back at Charles, he sees that even though all four of you stand there he's looking at you. This must be sympathy for the devil, Sammy thinks, because why else is he feeling bad for someone whose problem was multiple attractive women had feelings for him?

"Charlie, can you help?" you pout, unable to get the cork loose from the bottle. It was obvious you were tipsy, drunk even, you all had been drinking since the sun came up.

"Fucks sake y/n, use your arm!" Clara groans. Sammy looks back at Charles, willing him with his brain to not be at your beck and call for once.

"I've got it," Charles chuckles, like an idiot, if you ask Sammy. He pops it, a cheer coming from the group at the appearance of bubbles and spray. It gets all over his hands as he attempts to hold the bottle away from his body, and he shakes the excess off as the cheers continue. Oliver whisks the bottle away to be divied up between everyone's cups, and Charles goes inside to wash his hands off. You slink off behind him, unbeknownst to him, or the rest of your friends, except for Emma, whose interest is piqued by your sudden absences.

"Thanks for the help," your voice is sweet in the silence of the kitchenette.

His head whips to your figure, slightly startled by your presence. You're barefoot, a brown bikini only covering what's absolutely necessary to be covered. He can't tell if he loves it or he hates it. Your open button up shirt tossed on as a cover up intrigues him, because, is that his?

"Is that my shirt?" Charles repeats, out loud this time, eyes trained like heat seekers as you move close. His hands lay in the towel, champagne still dripping off his fingers. You've seemed to have distracted his process.

"No, but it seems like you would love it if it was."

He raises his shoulders. "You're welcome to them."

You hum, "good to know." You're looking at him like prey, it makes his throat dry and he's not sure what to say. You're always the bubbly one, the sunshine when he's being grumpy and difficult.

Charles lifts his hands from the towel that he still hasn't utilized yet, pushing his luck by placing a hand on your hip. He plays with the string on your right hip, fingers begging to untie the bow. "You only like talking to me when we're in kitchens, huh?"

He makes you laugh with that, or maybe it's the alchohol making you do it. "I always like talking to you. It's you that can't keep hands to yourself."

A hand slides up his chest, resting casually, yet his heart races faster. That familiar, warm feeling settles in his lower stomach, and he wills himself not to harden like a teenager. "We both have a problem with hands, I see."

You tilt your head in challenge. You pull his hand off of your hip and lift it, analyzing the digits still drenched in champagne. And to his utter surprise, you take his index finger into your mouth. The eye contact you hold as you do so has his mouth dropping open slightly in a daze, mind going to static as he feels the warmth and wetness, the pucker of your lips. You hum as you release his finger with a pop, licking your lips.

"Don't think I have a problem with your hands at all, Charles."

Charles, not Charlie. He's ruined.

How you saunter away after that leaves him gobsmacked, flustered, and most of all, hoping this boat would be docking soon.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"I have an offer for you," is how you start the conversation. You're all showered, evening attire thrown on and awaiting the metaphorical dinner bell. The two of you plus Peter were sat out on the patio, and were left alone when Peter ran in to the bathroom for a moment.

"When I come back home, we should go on date."

Charles thinks he mishears you. "What?"

"A date, Charlie. You know, when two people who share a romantic interest go out toge-"

"Enough, smartass," He stops your condescension. "You would go on one with me?"

You take a deep breath. "Yeah, I would. I like you, and all that."

"And all that," he repeats. "What every man wants to hear."

"Do you want to go on the date or not?"

"I do, I really do. Have wanted to for a while, you know."

You smile softly, resting your head on the lounger. "I know."

"Dinner's ready," Emma comes out to announce. When she sees it's only the two of you, her expression changes slightly, something only you'd notice after years of experiencing emotions from her. "Where's Peter?"

"Bathroom," you answer easily. Emma looks at the two of you intently, and Charles turns towards the water, not really interested in making conversation with the woman who's profusely stated her aversion to him.

"Hm. Well, come down soon."

When she closes the glass doors, Charles all but laughs out loud. "What a nightmare."

"Your ex," you rebut, "can't believe that to this day. If you didn't like her, why'd you do it?"

"Because I didn't think I could have you."

His veins fill with regret when he says it, he knows its not fair. But it's true, you know it as well. "Well, no more collateral damage, then." You stand up from the lounger, brushing down your dress. "Pick a good restaurant for the date."

Dinner begins well, Mirabel telling stories and Oliver denying them all. It's when the laughter dies down after Joris recounts their last trip to Nice that things begin to slant.

"Y/n/n," Emma calls from down the table. You turn to her, as everyone does.

"Yeah, Em?"

"I just have been dying to know," she starts, clasping her hands under her chin. "How long have you and Charles been fucking?"

Peter chokes on his wine. The table is utterly silent, and everyone's face carries the same shocked expression. And, wow, you've pictured this moment dozens of ways and hundreds of times, but honestly, this one was rare form. But after everything, especially today, caution was once again to the wind.

"About 6 months," you calmly answer, reaching for your glass. "Give or take."

"You bitch," she hisses. "Are you not even ashamed of yourself?"

"Are you not going to address Charles in the slightest, or is it just y/n's fault that they have sex?" Clara asks, and Mirabel and Oliver can't help the snicker in their chests. Sammy takes another piece of salmon from the middle platter.

"Yes, I could have said something," you mull.

Emma looks around, utter disbelief on her face as it seems everyone's refusing to intervene on this one. You can't blame them, and those who did know, well, their wine glasses are filled.

Emma gets up from the table with a curse of Charles's name and a disgusted look your way, and Clara clears her throat.

"So, anyone have any recommendations for clubs in Miami?"

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff

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one-divides-into-two · 2 months

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"If we treat the Stonewall Uprising as initiating the modern gay mass movement in 1969, the left-adventurist line was initially dominant, and fell by the wayside in the late 70s. Those who led the first wave of the LGBT movement of the 60s understood themselves (however incompletely) as participating in a revolutionary movement and process: In broad strokes, the early “left” line groups of gay liberation located the center of gay oppression in the family form itself and were explicitly in solidarity with the women’s movement as in many ways the same as their own (ideologically if not always practically). The British Gay Liberation Front’s Manifesto reads

The oppression of gay people starts in the most basic unit of society, the family...At some point nearly all gay people have found it difficult to cope with having the restricting images of man or woman pushed on them by their parents...we are expected to prove ourselves socially to our parents as members of the right sex (to bring home a boy/girl friend) and to start being a 'real' (oppressive) young man or a 'real' (oppressed) young woman

The Boston Gay Men’s Liberation group argued in their manifesto for the collectivization of childcare and housework, saying

Rearing children should be the common responsibility of the whole community. Any legal rights parents have over ‘their’ children should be dissolved and each child should be free to choose its own destiny. Free twenty-four hour child care centers should be established where faggots and lesbians can share the responsibility of child rearing

Others explicitly aligned themselves with the national liberation and anti-imperialist struggles of the time –Third World Gay Revolution went so far as to explicitly call for armed struggle towards establishing socialism. The gay struggle, to these organizations, was necessarily part of the struggle for the end of capitalism and the liberation of all oppressed and exploited peoples.

Nevertheless, these groups primarily took the left-adventurist line, and the failure of these organizations to place politics in command and take up Marxism fully (despite its influence within the movement), and the failure of the leading Marxist organizations of the time to cast aside their chauvinism, place politics in command, and embrace the LGBT movement (most notably RU/RCP, which maintained that homosexuality was “perpetuated and fostered by the decay of capitalism” and to be eliminated under socialism until 2001 and engaged in conversion therapy-style practices on their gay cadre), allowed the bourgeoisie to co-opt the movement and suppress its revolutionary strains. By the end of the 1970s the main left-adventurist groups that emerged from the movement's popular initiation via the Stonewall Uprising (GLF, STAR, TWGR, etc) had collapsed, and were replaced by the newly dominant right-opportunist trend, represented in groups like Lambda Legal (founded 1971), GLAD (1978), and the Human Rights Campaign (1980). Occasional left-adventurist ruptures emerged over the succeeding years, with ACT UP's break (rooted in part in gay and lesbian anti-imperialist solidarity work in the preceding years) from Gay Men's Health Crisis representing the most significant of these, but over the next three decades the bourgeois "marriage equality" became the central demand of the movement, with the implication that once these various reforms proposed by the right-opportunist trend were enacted, the gay movement would cease to be necessary.

In the first two decades of the 21st century these reforms were realized, and the idealist fantasies of the leading bourgeois gay organizations were not. These reforms were granted because they reaffirmed the bourgeois family form, successfully assimilating the leading upper strata of LGBT people as a method of defusing the movement as a whole. While in some ways the broad social acceptability of homosexuality, transness and gender nonconformity have increased, the reaction to these reforms has produced a vicious effort to oppress the lower strata, typically trans people.

Indeed, all empirical evidence points to the continuing existence of anti-gay and anti-trans oppression. In our younger years, parents, teachers, and other authority figures will attempt to suppress any expression of homosexuality, transness, or gender non-conformity. The passive and active social enforcement of your sex/gender role is a universal experience, but is felt particularly acutely by those most directly in contradiction with those roles. When this fails, authority figures sometimes resort to violence and sexual abuse – gay and trans children suffer higher rates of psychological, physical, and sexual abuse across the board as compared to their cis and straight peers. LGBT people as a whole make 10% less than the average worker. This is felt more acutely among trans people, particularly trans women (in line with their cis counterparts), who make just 60% of the average. What bourgeois sociological evidence does exist points to significant discrimination in housing, jobs, medical care, etc. Accessing medical care is a struggle of its own for trans people – getting the treatment needed for basic day-to-day existence is often humiliating and expensive.

For younger LGBT people, particularly trans people, this political sequence has produced significant "whiplash." We grew up in a period of a real increase in broad social "acceptance," and being told that these reforms would guarantee an end to our oppression. But the utter abdication of leadership by the rightists following the reforms (after all, "we won") and the reactionary backlash has left the movement with a vacuum of political and organizational leadership at a crucial conjuncture. In the absence of this leadership, small groups have begun to emerge, largely taking up the left-adventurist anarchist line, sometimes explicitly. In some ways, this is a positive situation for communists. The broad masses of LGBT people are crying out for leadership in their struggle against the reactionary offensive, and the failure of the bourgeois rightist line to provide its promised victory has revealed to many gay and trans people, particularly those of the lower strata, the bankruptcy of reformism.

The current assault on our self-determination by the reactionary wing of first-world politics presents us with an opportunity to smash that trend, to effect a final rupture. Gay and trans people, particularly trans people, are increasingly forced into direct confrontation with the bourgeois state (through its repressive laws) and its extra-legal shock troops (with trans events becoming one of the primary targets for street fascist attacks). Not since the AIDS crisis have we seen such direct confrontation – and with it, openness to revolutionary communist political projects.

The task before communists in the gay movement is therefore to rectify the line of the movement through theoretical and practical struggle, to offer leadership to the gay and trans masses, and transform this movement into a detachment of the world proletarian struggle for communism."

Half the Sky: Preliminary Materials for a Proletarian Feminist Politics

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weepylucifer · 6 months

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Disco Elysium if it was a Hollywood Blockbuster

(inspired by the trailer by @brainrotdotorg)

Harry has to have a glowup arc where he regains his faith in his job and ability to be a good cop. The police isn't criticized here apart from maybe some handwaves at "a few bad apples" rhetoric. In the climactic moment, the phasmid appears and tells him it is his duty and his destiny... to reform the RCM

Because we don't have time for a nuanced take on addiction in this 90-minute movie, the narrative just turns on a dime halfway through to portraying Harry's alcoholism as rugged and badass instead of pathetic, or he suddenly stops drinking when he gets his groove back, with no withdrawal effects shown. The whole thing about speed helping him be better at his job doesn't factor in; Harry drinks and does drugs because he's sad about Dora and there's nothing more to it. All he needed was to buck up and focus on being the best cop in all of Revachol

Klaasje is portrayed as a one-dimensional scheming femme fatale. Her backstory doesn't really come up. She's dumbed down so that Harry can triumph over her, and is also genuinely attracted to him for some reason, "I am Sherlocked" style

Ruby is either cut entirely, or she's genuinely a predatory lesbian and that's it. If the latter, she shoots herself in the head in front of Harry and Kim and they make a MCU-style "Well that happened" quip about it

No political quests! We don't have time for that. Actually, both communism and fascism are only mentioned once in a backstory dump as stuff that happened in a bygone era. If anything, the film ends up really riding for moralism by complete accident

The film makers don't really know what to do with Kim, so he gets reduced to a guy that stands around and delivers snarky one-liners

The Hardie Boys are in one short interrogation scene, not quite enough to make casual moviegoers care when half of them are gunned down

Fan-favorite characters such as Cindy, Cuno or the Speedfreaks can be seen once in the background of a group scene, but have no lines (you KNOW hollywood couldn't handle the Cuno). It's announced on the director's insta as "a little easter egg for eagle-eyed fans"

Joyce has a way more active role, but also her character turns into an utterly flat "milf girlboss" type who gives Harry and Kim direct instructions on what to do, Madame Director style. The movie writers pat themselves on the backs for being more progressive and feminist than the source material. Also she has nothing to do with the mercs, they just sort of... appeared. Don't think about it too hard! It's stressed repeatedly that they're "rogue agents" and it's really nobody's fault that they're there

Evrart is a corrupt mob boss and that's it. He will be played by a skinny actor in a fatsuit. He also doesn't help find Harry's gun, Joyce has someone retrieve it offscreen so she can gravely and meaningfully hand it to him just in time for the mercenary tribunal

The Deserter just kinda being a shitty sad old man would be too anticlimactic for our summer blockbuster, so he is rewritten to be some kind of evil mastermind. Maybe he even directly communicates with Klaasje and tells her what to do, again "I am Sherlocked" style

The tribunal absolutely does end with RCM backup triumphantly arriving to save the day, led by Jean who underwent a mini-arc offscreen about putting his differences with Harry aside because at the end of the day, they're both cops, and goddamn it, cops help each other. He dramatically takes the wig off and chucks it on the ground to signal his character growth, and everything

No homo-sexual underground thought. The Smoker on the Balcony is allowed to show up in one scene, where he flirtily waves at Kim and Harry. Kim nods at him. Disney's first gay character--

There's a moment where Kim talks to Jean, expressing doubt about Harry. Cut to Harry doing something goofy across the room from them. Jean briefly glances at it, shakes his head, turns back to Kim and says gruffly: "He's a loose cannon... but he gets the job done." This is supposed to be a good thing

#posts by me #i have more i could do this all night #remember those blogs that were like ''[x series] if it was written by moffat''?? i guess this is DE if it was written by moffat #disco elysium

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violetsandshrikes · 2 months

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1980s New Zealand, where being gay means hiding in plain sight and local homophobes, backed by the Far Right churches of Reagan’s America, are hell bent on destroying any liberal fantasies of change. With money and power behind them, they wage open warfare on New Zealanders fighting for their right to be different.

We know the broad political story of how homosexual law reform was won in the 1980s, but we don’t often hear the voices of the amazing men and women who lived it. The gritty activists who were spat at and reviled, who risked jail and losing their families. They fought both local and international hatred, taking to the streets in anger and in celebration. "Cynthia Bagwash" who disrupted meetings in her stylish fox-fur and white gloves, the lusty anthem singers harassing Salvation Army anti-reform petitioners, the heartbroken nurses working in the AIDS wards, and the man tasked with bringing his cousin’s body back to the marae.

Would be grateful if anyone could boost! These guys are trying to get funding for this documentary about the fight for gay rights in 1980s Aotearoa.

The director, Welby Ings (Punch 2022, Sparrow 2016, Boy 2005, long listed for the Oscars ) knows the story intimately. In the early 80s, he started his small town’s three person pressure group, Gay Rights of Taihape ( GROT ). Arrested several times and with his teaching career under threat, he threw himself into the national campaign, protesting, infiltrating and interfering as much as possible with the opposition.

#katie rambles #aotearoa #new zealand #ask 2 tag

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m1ckeyb3rry · 11 days

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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // EIGHTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You reunite with the rest of the Avatar’s group and spend some time with Sokka.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.2k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: very dialogue heavy chapter incoming LMAOAO this is like 90% sokka & y/n conversing (meanwhile zuko and suki somewhere: 🤨😒)

“Well, well, well,” Katara said, crossing her arms and glaring at Toph and Sokka. “I thought the two of you promised you were done with scamming, but judging by your expressions, that’s exactly what you just came back from doing.”

“It was our final hurrah!” Sokka said. “One last scam before we reformed for good, as you will.”

“You guys are addicted,” Katara said. “It’s a problem.”

“Nuh-uh! It’s just that it’s like gambling,” Toph said. “You can’t stop until you hit the jackpot!”

“And boy oh boy did we hit the jackpot, alright!” Sokka cheered, shoving you in front of him, holding onto your shoulders like a proud father. “Take a look at this — the princess of the Earth Kingdom!”

“Huh?” Katara said, her eyes widening as you waved at her awkwardly.

There was a blast of air, and then Aang was standing in front of you, his jaw slack. He looked different — where once he had kept his head shaved, in keeping with the tradition of the Air Nomads, he now had dark, curly hair tied out of his face with a headband that handily covered his arrow mark. Like the others, he wore Fire Nation clothes, and you found that the blacks and reds were particularly jarring on him. If it were not for his large, shimmering eyes and enormous, crooked grin, you might not have recognized him at all, but as it was, there was no mistaking him for anyone else.

“Princess Y/N? You’re alive?” he said, beaming at you. Sokka shook you by the shoulders.

“She is, and we only found out because of that final scam! So, Katara, you should be happy with us,” he said.

While it was certainly uncomfortable to be treated as Sokka’s demonstrative tool, you were somehow comforted by it. There was a sort of acceptance, a friendship in the way he was tossing you about. It was the kind of relationship you had always longed for, so you did not swat him away despite his rough treatment.

“I don’t understand, though. Your brother told us you were dead,” Katara said. “The Soldiers of Agni collapsed the wing of the palace where the royal chambers were, didn’t they?”

“No,” you said. “I did. Didn’t Kuei tell you I’m an Earthbender? I brought the palace down so that the Soldiers of Agni could not pursue my brother.”

“He did mention it, but he didn’t say anything about how strong you were,” Aang said.

“Likely he didn’t know,” you said. “That, and I’m not really as skilled as it might seem. There were…a lot of circumstances surrounding that feat.”

“Either way, an entire section of a building came down upon you,” Katara said, her face softening as she pulled you into a gentle embrace. “Are you alright?”

“I managed to survive,” you said. “I’m still not quite sure how it all played out, but somehow, I ended up in the Fire Nation capital, which is where I’ve been since the city fell.”

“The Fire Nation capital?” Sokka said in alarm as Katara let you go. You returned to Sokka’s side, for he had somehow become like a beacon of safety for you. A rescuer. He always bumbled his way into — not into saving you, but into somehow taking your hand and yanking you behind him to the very place you needed to be. And at the moment, when you were so lost, such a person was invaluable.

“I attended the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, under the alias of Ursa,” you said, still barely able to say the name without seething. “The best way I can describe the situation is by saying that I was a prisoner of Prince Zuko’s, no matter how well he treated me. I was denied access to my memories so that I did not flee, and refused my identity so that I did not rebel. It is only through sheer chance and luck that I was able to escape at all.”

“They wiped your memories?” Toph said. “Yikes.”

“I got them back,” you said, gritting your teeth. “But enough of the past. It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I will retake my kingdom. If Kuei is alive, as you say he is, then we must meet up with him at once, so that we can begin to strategize about how we should best take back Ba Sing Se. At the moment, I’m leaning towards the day of the black sun, as the eclipse will ensure the resident Firebenders cannot fight back. Although, that doesn’t solve the problem of the Dai Li…”

“Er, there’s a slight issue with that,” Sokka said. “None of us know where your brother is.”

You paused, your train of thought screeching to an abrupt halt. “What?”

“It was when we reached the Southern Water Tribe’s fleet that it happened,” Katara said. “We got off of Appa and told the Earth King to come with us onto one of the boats, where he would be safe, but he refused.”

“Why would he do that? He’s never been the brave type. Turning his nose up at a guarantee of safety is out of his character, even if he did have Bosco at his side,” you said. “Wait. He did have Bosco, right?”

“I don’t think anything in the world could separate him from that bear,” Toph scoffed.

“Likely not,” you agreed.

“He said that he couldn’t let your sacrifice be in vain,” Sokka said.

“That is to say, he didn’t want you to have died for nothing. You had given up your life for the Earth Kingdom, and yet it had fallen regardless. He couldn’t handle it. He swore he would do something, find some kind of retribution, and then he just—”

“He just vanished!“ Sokka completed, cutting Katara off, prompting her to roll her eyes at him. He wiggled his fingers at you. “Poof, like magic!”

“He rode away on Bosco,” Toph said. “I’m blind, and even I know that much.”

“I was trying to tell the story with dramatic effect!” Sokka said, pouting at you. “No one appreciates my storytelling skills around here.”

Tentatively, you patted him on the shoulder. “I am very entertained.”

“Oh, brother. You’ve unleashed a monster,” Aang said. “Good luck.”

“Going back to the original line of thinking,” you said, though not without furrowing your brow at Aang in confusion at his defeated tone. “Kuei. He really just disappeared?”

“We saw him ride away on Bosco—”

“No, we didn’t!”

“—but we don’t know where he went or what he’s doing now,” Katara said, not even blinking at Sokka’s interjection. “He didn’t tell us. I mean, he could be anywhere by now, and who knows what he’s up to? It’s a mystery. I wish we could help you find him, but we have to focus our efforts on preparing for the invasion.”

You frowned. So, then, Kuei was alive, but that was the extent of the knowledge you had about his whereabouts. It had to be enough, because it was all you could get, but though you held the proof of his continued existence close to your heart, it still rang hollow. Because what if things had changed? What if he had been captured in the days since you had seen him last?

There was only one thing you could do: trust in him wholly and completely. Your dear brother, who had miraculously escaped Ba Sing Se during its fall and survived to find the Avatar, was obviously not as helpless as you had originally thought him to be. If he had lived until that point, then you had to believe that he would continue to do so.

And with regards to what you had to do next…there, too, only one method was clear. If you wanted your kingdom back, if you wanted to see your brother again, then you could not charge into an attack blindly, with no planning or support. You had to be careful, thorough, logical.

Taking a quick inventory of your current assets as you had been taught to do in the academy, you found that the outlook was grim. An injured hawk. Some clothes. Letters from a person you hated. A version of Earthbending. These were the things which were fully your own.

In terms of allies, you had Katara, Sokka, Aang, and Toph, as well as their associates, but all of them were focused solely on the invasion, where they planned on taking the Fire Nation royalty down. Until that objective had been completed, you could not count on their help. Destroying the Fire Nation royalty, though, would also aid your case, so this wasn’t something you begrudged them for. In fact, you were even pleased by it, as it at least made your immediate steps clearly defined.

“What can I do to help?” you said.

“With what?” Sokka said.

“The invasion,” you said. “There must be some way that I can participate. It is a nation for which I hold a special hatred, so you cannot blame me for wanting to aid you in taking them down.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Katara said immediately. “What if you get captured again? Or if you die for real this time?”

“It would be a problem,” you said. “Since Kuei’s status is uncertain, he is effectively dead, at least in the legal sense, leaving me as the only one left to rule upon the retaking of the Earth Kingdom. I understand that. It would be foolish to risk a future monarch, but that doesn’t mean I’ll sit idly by and let others fight my battles. I’ve spent my entire life locked away like that, and I refuse to be as useless ever again.”

Katara cocked her head at you quizzically. “I guess all of that is true as well, but actually, I was just worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you said. “I’ve probably killed thrice as many people as the rest of you. Don’t forget that all but one of the Soldiers of Agni fell at my hands, and even that one has a body so ruined that he cannot be considered anything but pitiful now. The most elite Firebending force in the world, and it was destroyed by me. Even though it was an extreme case, and probably not a replicable one, it’s not meaningless, either. I’m not someone you need to worry for.”

“It’s not,” Aang said. “It’s really impressive. But Katara’s right — involving you in the invasion outright isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to risk anyone if it’s avoidable, and since our plans already don’t factor you in, there’s no point in adding you if it’s unnecessary.”

You wanted to argue, but no matter how much you disliked it, you knew that what they were saying wasn’t wrong. Getting involved with the invasion when things were so precarious already was foolhardy, but that didn’t mean that it sat well with you.

“Alright,” you said. “I will not insist on it, just as long as you can promise me one thing.”

“Sure, what?” Aang said, cheerful at how easily convinced you had been.

“Don’t kill Prince Zuko,” you said.

“Don’t kill him?” Katara said. “Why wouldn’t you want us to do that? He’s hurt you immeasurably!”

“Obviously, she respects the value and sanctity of life!” Aang said, smiling and nodding in a self-satisfied way. “Consider it done, Y/N.”

“No,” you said. “It’s because I have a score to settle with him, and I want to do it personally.”

“Oh,” Aang said. “That’s not what I was hoping for.”

“I’m sorry, Aang,” you said. “I respect your ideals; I admire them, even, but at the end of the day, I cannot share them. It’s selfish, perhaps, and vengeful, but the truth is that I want Prince Zuko to live through the invasion, for no other reason than because the one to kill him has to be me.”

The moon was a silver gash in the velvet sky, surrounded by pinpricks of starlight that matched it in color. It reflected on the water that you gazed into as everyone slept, the silence of the night occasionally punctuated by a loud snore from Aang or mutters from Toph, who was apparently a sleep-talker.

Bian had taken to Momo and Appa, the flying lemur and bison that were Aang’s traveling companions. You had been worried that she might’ve tried to eat Momo, but whether it was her injured state or Momo’s intelligence, she had done nothing of the sort. In fact, she was overly affectionate towards him, preening his fur like he was her chick and forcing him to sleep tucked under the wing she had not broken. Even now, that was where she was, roosting on Appa’s broad forehead, Momo pressed to her side, and though you longed for her companionship, you did not dare wake her.

“What a turn of events,” you said with a sigh, hugging your knees to your chest and resting your cheek against them. “The greatest friend I have is my hawk, and even she has left me.”

You wished Jia-Li and Ty Lee were with you. It was counterintuitive, of course — they were Fire Nation, and your identity as Ursa and therefore as their friend was a false one, so any relationship that you had had with them could be considered nothing but a lie. But they were the closest to genuine friends that you had had in your life — especially the unassuming Jia-Li, who had not even had any hand in your past predicament.

At this point, you would even take Kaho. Cruel, horrible Kaho…you wished you could see her again and tell her that the fight she had sworn her life to was a worthless one. Now that you knew more, now that you had memories of your own, you did not detest her. You were only sad for her. You thought that if things had been different, the two of you might’ve been friends.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps you never would’ve been anything more than a daughter of mud to her. It was possible. You wished most of all that there had been a chance for you to find out how much of her hatred was her own, and how much was her being yet another mouthpiece for the Fire Nation’s doctrines.

“Having a tough time sleeping?”

You looked up at Sokka, who plopped down beside you, mirroring your position, though he stared up at the moon fondly instead of shying away from it.

“Yes,” you said.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “The closer and closer we get to the day of the invasion, the more and more scared I become. I mean, this is my plan. If it fails horribly, it’s my fault. Everyone’s risking their lives for an idea I came up with, and I don’t even know if it will work.”

You glanced over at him, only to find that he was no longer staring at the moon. When your eyes met his, he smiled slightly, and hesitantly, you smiled back.

“It doesn’t have to work,” you said.

“What? Yes, it does, or else the Fire Nation will win! If Aang can’t take Fire Lord Ozai down during the eclipse, then we’ve as good as lost,” he said.

“No wonder you’re so nervous,” you said. “You think that the outcome of this entire war is riding on one day, one event, but wars aren’t like that. Even if Fire Lord Ozai is defeated, someone will take his place. Be it Prince Zuko or some general who steps up to seize power in the ensuing confusion or another person entirely, things will not stop just because of one man’s death. The problems in the Fire Nation are rooted far more deeply than that.”

“What do you mean?” he said, his brow creasing.

“Propaganda,” you said. “Oppressive policies and laws. Prejudice. Children forced to become soldiers. An economy that, believe it or not, is falling apart because of the war. Education and literacy rates which are facing the same fate. To be sure, the Fire Nation is the aggressive party, but they, too, have been suffering for the past one hundred years. They, too, have deteriorated over the course of this great conflict; the difference is that these problems have led them to rally behind the leader of their government in the hopes that he will liberate them. Once, it was Fire Lord Sozin, and then it was Fire Lord Azulon, and now it is Fire Lord Ozai. Tomorrow, it may be someone else entirely, but mind you, it will be someone.”

He was quiet for a moment, mulling over your words before nodding, his shoulders dropping as he came to understand that you were right.

“They call my sister and I snow savages,” he said. You reached out, placed your hand atop his, which was rough and solid, cool to the touch and littered with scars. You did not try to grip it; you only let your own, which was warm and delicate in comparison, rest there on the back of his palm.

“I’m a daughter of mud, apparently,” you said. “They’re very creative here, aren’t they?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“It’s not that the entire Fire Nation is bad,” you said. “I lived amongst them, so I can say that with firsthand experience. The people are proud, but kind. It’s just that there are wider-scale issues which affect all of them and thus taint our perceptions of the country as a whole.”

“So what, then?” he said. “Is this invasion doomed? If it doesn’t even matter if we defeat Fire Lord Ozai, then why are we risking everything in pursuit of that goal?”

“You’re a smart boy,” you said. “Maybe you should mull it over for a few days and speak to me then.”

“But you think we should still invade?” he checked.

“I do,” you said. “I’m not some kind of spirit that would push you to make the wrong decision for my amusement. It’s the thinking behind it that’s flawed, the expected outcome that you need to consider. But those refinements can be made at a later date. At the moment, the bigger question is why you hold my opinion in such a high regard. It’s not as though I’m some military leader.”

“You studied at the greatest military academy in the world while you were in the Fire Nation,” he reminded you. “And, to be honest, you’re one of very few people who can claim to have actually dealt the Fire Nation a substantial blow over the course of the war. There’s no other, more qualified opinion than yours.”

“What a turn of events,” you said again, for lack of a better turn of phrase to describe your thoughts. “I wonder if he regrets it.”

“Who regrets what?” Sokka said, his hand flexing under yours, like he had considered grabbing it before changing his mind.

“Prince Zuko,” you said. “He’s the one who had the idea to send me to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, after all. It’s by his design that I spent so long learning the ways of warfare and politics, which even before I did not understand as thoroughly as I do now.”

“Wow,” he said. “I knew he was dumb, but not that dumb. If he knew who you were, then why’d he have you enroll there? He had to have understood that you’d remember at some point, and that you’d use everything you’d learned against him.”

“I’m not sure,” you said. “That’s the final thing I want to ask him. Why did he do what he did? What was his reasoning, his thought process? I’m confused about it all. In the end, it doesn’t matter, but there’s an old part of me that’s curious nonetheless.”

Sokka was a good person. He didn’t question what you meant by that; he only hummed in agreement.

“When I was younger, my father taught me how to navigate using the stars,” he said after a bit, pointing at the sky. “He said that as long as you can find that star right there, as long as you can follow it, you’ll never be lost. You’ll always find your way back home.”

“I see it,” you said. “It’s beautiful.”

“Maybe it can help you,” he said.

“Hm?” you said.

“You’re pretty far from home, too, just like Katara and I. If we follow that star, though, then someday…” he trailed off helplessly, turning back to the moon.

“Someday, we can go back,” you said. “Yes, I believe that that’s true.”

“I’ll think about what you said,” he said, incredibly seriously. “About the invasion, and about winning. I’ll tell you what I’ve figured out before we go, okay?”

“I look forward to it,” you said.

“If I get it wrong, though, you have to tell me the right answer before we run into things looking like idiots,” he said.

“Of course,” you reassured him. “I’m not in the business of withholding information for no good reason — I just think that it will be beneficial for you to draw your own conclusions instead of solely relying on others. It’s likely you’ll come up with things that I missed, too, so it’s a collaborative exercise.”

“You’re pretty wise, considering you didn’t leave your palace that long ago,” he said.

“It’s as though I’ve lived a hundred lifetimes in such a short span,” you said. “Every minute I spent as Ursa aged me by years, I think.”

“That’s a pretty name, by the way,” he said. “Ursa.”

“Prince Zuko gave it to me,” you said. “I think they said it was his mother’s.”

“Never mind,” he said. “It’s not that pretty after all.”

You snorted. “Right.”

“Listen,” he said. “This is a little random, but since I’m pretty sure the others are well and truly asleep, I want to say it now: I think it’s a waste for you to not participate in the invasion.”

“Do you?” you said.

“Aang and Katara are right, of course — it is dangerous, and the less people that can get hurt, the better,” Sokka said. “But you’re also a really powerful ally, and it’s dumb of us if we don’t recognize that.”

“What are you suggesting? Shall I don a mask and dark clothing and sneak along for the ride?” you said.

“No, why would you do that?” he said.

“It’s a joke you wouldn’t understand,” you said. “Unless you’ve read The Mask of the Blue Spirit at some point?”

“I don’t think that one ever reached the Southern Water Tribe, sorry,” he said.

“It’s not that good, anyways. Sorry for interrupting,” you said.

“It’s fine. Now, like I was saying, you shouldn’t advertise the fact that you’re there or anything — unless you want to become a target — but I think that it’ll be better for you to be with us. At the moment, my only idea for your role is to have you stay with anyone that might get injured during the battle so that you can protect them,” he said.

“Defending the wounded?” you said. “I can get behind that.”

“So it’s a good idea?” he said.

“Don’t doubt yourself so much,” you said. “It’s a really good idea. In fact, I’d even dare to call it perfect. It also says something about your character.”

“Hopefully not something bad,” he said, cringing preemptively.

“It tells me you care about your people,” you said. “You want someone strong to defend them if they should fall. It’s a good way to ensure the loyalty and longevity of your army…but it’s also a sign that you’re the kind of leader anyone would be happy to follow. The kind of leader who has everyone’s best interests at heart, not just their own.”

He reddened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” you said. “That’s what makes it so telling. Are you still too worried to sleep?”

“Not anymore,” he said. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Ah, anytime,” you said.

“What about you?” he said. You shook your head ruefully.

“No, I’m still thinking,” you said.

“About what? You talked to me, so it’s only fair I do the same,” he said.

“There’s someone I miss,” you said. “Or, no. I miss who they used to be. Who I thought they were. It’s not who they really are, I know that now, but for a time, I really…well, I mean, it’s unimportant.”

“You loved them,” Sokka said. “I have no idea who you’re talking about, but it’s pretty obvious.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I did. It was the greatest mistake I could have ever made, but I made it.”

If only you had never escaped through Quynh’s doors. If only you had never gone into the city. If only you had done as you were told, then the kingdom never would’ve fallen. Things would be alright. Your selfish desires had driven Ba Sing Se to ruin, and yet here you sat, mourning the very catalyst which had turned the walls of the impenetrable city to dust.

“If you could say anything to them, what would it be?” he said.

“I’d wish for their death,” you said vehemently. Sokka flinched back in surprise, but you paid him no mind. “Don’t get confused. I have no affection nor fondness left in me for this person.”

“You talk about killing and stuff so easily,” he said.

“It’s not like I like it,” you said. “I cried after killing Captain Chhay. It was an overwhelming act, but my — my mother, she told me that in order to ensure peace, I had to mete out death in equal measure. She said that if a person threatened me or the people I love, then I could not allow them to exist. So, that’s that.”

“Your mother? I thought she was, uh, you know?” he said uncomfortably, gesturing with his hands to get his point across.

“She is,” you said. “I do not refer to the woman who brought me into this world but rather the great bear spirit, mother of the Earth Kingdom. Quynh.”

“Quynh?” he said, face scrunching in thought. “Wait, I think I know her story. Isn’t it the myth of the bear that ate too much and had to be locked away so that it did not devour the entire world?”

“No,” you said, giving him an incredulous look. “That was a serpent, not a bear, and besides, that’s a story from the Northern Water Tribe. Quynh was one of the founders of the Earth Kingdom, alongside Shan, who was my ancestor. She died during the construction of the palace, but she was brought back after Shan struck a deal with Father Glowworm, a deal which gave her immortality and the power of doors, amongst other things.”

“Oh, right,” Sokka said. “I’ve heard of this one, too.”

“She’s real,” you said. “I mentioned her once before, remember? Her power is the way that I managed to go into Ba Sing Se without anyone knowing, as well as how all of the servants and my brother escaped when the palace fell.”

“Yup, I remember!” he said.

“In the absence of my parents, she all but raised me. I miss her more than anyone, except Kuei,” you said. “Bar him, she was the closest thing to family I had, but unlike with him, I didn’t get to wish her anything even close to a farewell. The only consolation I have is that she knows I am alive, given that she can feel when members of Shan’s line die, and that she is alive, because as an immortal spirit, she is unkillable, and she resides in a place far beyond even the Fire Nation’s reach.”

“If she’s so powerful, then why’d she let the palace fall?” he said.

“By my command, she was concentrating on evacuating the servants and Kuei,” you said. “Then, once that was complete, it was too late. I had already sacrificed myself. I didn’t give her the chance to help me. I didn’t give anyone the chance, because I didn’t want anyone else to go down with me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We would’ve stood by you, if we had been there. I would’ve. Until the very end.”

You swallowed back the tears that threatened to make an appearance at his words. You had never had someone who had promised to be at your side through everything. You had had protectors, and you had protected others in turn, but never in your life had you had an equal. Someone who relied on you as much as you relied on them. Someone who would stay with you, even through the pain of imminent death.

“You’re a really good friend,” you said. “I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad, too,” he said. “Even if it’s a little embarrassing to think about the fact that I made you wear my clothes and do cartwheels that first time.”

“Did you ever perfect the move?” you said. He sprang to his feet.

“I did! Wanna see?” he said.

“Go ahead,” you said. Taking a step back, he broke into a run before using his left leg to push off into a perfect cartwheel. You clapped when he landed squarely on his feet again and spun to face you.

“What do you think?”

“Excellent work,” you said. “Though I don’t know how many practical applications such a skill would have, it’s always good to learn new things.”

“That’s what I told the others when they made fun of me!” he said.

“Everyone has different priorities,” you said diplomatically. He shrugged and then yawned. You winced as you realized how late it had gotten, and how tired you yourself had grown.

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t mind staying up longer.”

“No, it’s alright. We should sleep. There’s no sense in staying up needlessly; it’s important for us to conserve as much energy as we can, so that our bodies are in the best possible conditions for the invasion,” you said.

“Do you think you can?” he said. “You made me feel a lot better, but I don’t really think I helped you in the same way.”

“You helped,” you promised him. “Just by talking to me, just by being my friend…you helped.”

“We’re all your friends now,” he said, lowering his voice as you both grew nearer to where the others were. “Katara, Toph, Aang, and I. You can count on all of us.”

“I don’t want to be a burden, but I thank you for the offer,” you said.

“That’s not how friendship works,” he said, tossing a blanket over to you. “We all look out for one another. There’s no burden involved.”

“Interesting,” you said, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders. “Then, if you are not opposed, I think I would not mind relying on you a little bit. Just as long as you rely on me, too.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he said. “I’ll rely on you a ton, trust me.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Good night, Sokka.”

“Good night,” he said. “I’m happy you’re alive, Y/N.”

“Me, too,” you said, not feeling quite so lost anymore, not when you were surrounded by people you could truly trust, not when a certain star shone down on you, like a promise that one day, you could follow it all of the way home. “Me, too.”

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luffyrose · 1 year

Text

Alien or Ghost?

I am once again offering random ideas that pop into my brain. As you can tell, the brain rot is strong for DC x DP.

Anyway, let's hop right into the idea for today!

~~~~~~

Halfas' as much as they share biology with ghosts, who in their own sense are a new species, are considered alien. Of course, not because they have human and ghostly abilities, but because Halfas WERE aliens. The origin of their race had been so uncertain, but seeing that they held a small planet close to Krypton, they were most definitely a species of Alien. They could hop between dimensions, though it seemed that this one and this planet was their home. No matter who left, they always returned. So when one day they didn't, it was believed the species was now extinct, seeing as they didn't know that Halfa have two ways of being "born".

Those who knew the most were the Kryptonians, being close allies to the friendly but powerful race. With Krypton destroyed, the only information that survived was that of a few estranged alien species' knowledge and documents in the Fortress of Solitude. Seeing as it wasn't important, being a deceased race and all, Superman paid his respects to the race but didn't spend much time looking over the details of the species. All he really maintained was their similar biology to beings referred to as Ghosts, and the ability to transform. It was also noted that Halfa, as strong as they were, developed powers in times of need or panic. Meaning the stronger the person, the worse they've had to protect themselves or others from.

Now, if he'd read a little more, he would have learned about how Halfa's had said before how, while they can have children, not every Halfa was born as Halfa's, it was something that made them special and made them care for one another so deeply. It was also why true Halfa were usually aligned to protect whatever it deemed family.

So when a group of young teens, led by Boy Wonder himself on a wayward mission, find a horribly ill-looking teen and are terrified. It does not help that the clothes he wore were tattered and through them, the team could see rushed and careless stitches. Nor did it make anything better that this mission was in a lab. A much too nice lab for supposedly illegal activity. And now the group knew why. So with chaos and teenage rage at seeing someone so young and so hurt, they absolutely destroy the lab in an attempt to get the other out. It goes as well as it can, but hey, they're out! Scolded by Batman, but out! And they took the kid!

The team is determined to help their unofficial new teammate, you could pry him from their cold dead hands this was almost exactly like how they got Conner and that had ended wonderfully- for the most part. Conner himself was very protective of the young boy, and Danny accepted that pretty quickly. It made most of them more than sure that he'd had a family, but none of them wanted to ask.

When Wally inevitably did, Danny physically freezes, sudden realizations hitting him like a truck. Danny's family was gone...for the most part. Jazz had been away for something, but his house had been attacked by the GIW, leaving Danny to expose himself to his parents before they tried to defend him. It didn't work. So the three Fentons were claimed dead, the house blown to pieces with nothing to find. Except, only his parents were actually gone. Sam and Tucker had no idea what had happened, Jazz probably knew he was alive...but that didn't make the situation much better, and Dani...she had been elsewhere, but surely she'd known by now.

Dan.

That was a much worse realization. Dan had been reformed after a long time out and very much taken an older brother role, Conner reminded him of that even if subconsciously, either way, he was the King of the Infinite Realms and he'd been missing. For months. Dan was more than definitely ready to tear the human realm apart.

With a tense chuckle, Danny said he was so dead when his siblings found him but never elaborated. They could tell it wasn't an actual danger to the boy, but it made the team curious. Either way, not his problem for now, so Danny just continues to stay with the YJL.

Eventually, Danny ends up sneaking with them to help on a mission and when the team is in danger, he snaps and near destroys everything around them, save his teammates, in a fit of rage. It's then that the JL realize their newest addition may be a bit strong for his age and control. So they plan to meet him. Lucky for Danny, Robin and Wally are allowed to come with!

The meeting starts with a lot of the JL, minus a well-known blue boy scout, he'd been busy working things out with Conner, his Ma had learned of the boy and really helped him figure out his issues(there was definitely a lot of yelling, and request to meet her grandson). Things are going alright, even with the boy's clear nervousness at seeing so many people. It's when Superman himself arrives that he freezes completely, staring at the boy in front of him as everything in his body screams this is another Alien. He doesn't quite know why, but the only non-martian alien who could possibly look this human that he knew of was meant to be extinct. Seeing how Martian Manhunter hadn't mentioned anything about the boy being possibly Martian, Supes was rightfully freaking out.

Superman, utterly confused and slightly happy: YOU'RE A HALFA

Danny, surprised and terrified out of his mind that he's been outed so easily: UHHH-

Obviously, the right thing to do in a panic? RUN AWAY. So off Danny goes, fleeing as if his life depends on it. I mean, who can blame him? In Superman's eyes, this is the last known being of his species, unless they were in hiding, and to Danny, this man just stated to a room full of possible enemies if he ever oversteps a boundary exactly what he is. Not to mention the whole Halfa hunted like sport when Pariah Dark was alive stuff he'd learned from Clockwork at some point.

His recent recklessness gave quite a few people, good and bad, a hint of his location. A mix of joy, worry, and anger is present from all sources alike.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcmultiverse #dc comics #danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #young justice #justice league #superman #dc robin #dick grayson #wally west #kid flash #conner kent #superboy #dani fenton #dan phantom #jazz fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #Vlad isn't actually a halfa #he's some weird type of revenant but his sure anger at being turned ghost made him believe he wasn't fully one #and his various deception abilities only helped his own delusion #Dan is a very overprotective big brother though and he wants his little brother and he wants him now #Dani also wants her big brother right now #Jazz is only holding herself together because both other Halfa are very certain he is alive though they don't know his condition #or location #so they are very happy his heroic dumbass shines through and he ends up on some news #Tucker had already been hacking as many places as he can to find him once the news aired

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bl-is-totes-my-jam · 2 months

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My take on a shipping chart with the 0713 Boy Group. Ship them all with each other. One massive orgy xD

(This is just a joke. I know that some of them have wives and kids)

#0713 #reformed boy group #chen chusheng #wang yuexin #zhang yuan #bird zhang #lu hu #tiger hu #su xing #allen su #yu haoming #wang zhenglian #reno wang

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romanarose · 8 months

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Shava Tova

Moon Boys x non-jewish!reader

Join my taglist! Masterlist Moon Knight master list

Summary: You go to Rosh Hashanah services in Chicago with your boys, and are happy to learn more about this part of themselves.

Warnings: Illusions to Marc's childhood, Judaism references I try to explain. Reader isn't Jewish and I'm aware my readers are from different religious backgrounds but I think in a majority (from what I know?) it's okay to attend services and participate in things like the tashlich. I try to keep it vague though, but only you really know what you are comfortable with so use discression!

A/N: I am not Jewish, I am a hopeful convert! This year was my first Rosh Hashanah and I was very moved by it all. I'm lucky enough to have gotten to know a friend there and her and her family are very welcoming and have been wonderful explaining this holiday and others and preparing me for Yom Kippur. That being said, I attend a reform temple. I do not know what denomination Marc is, but my evidence seems to point to conservative. Also, I know traditions are different country to country and group to group (Ashkenazi, Sephardi etc) all have different practices. I tried to stick to what I found the most universal in my studying but I am always ready and willing to be corrected. If there is something incorrect, please let me know!

****************

You always thought he looked so handsome like this, with his prayer shawl and kippah on… it didn’t hurt that he was dressed up for the holiday in a black suit. His Kippah and tallit were white, the traditional color for Rash Hashanah, and your dress matched him.

You’d gone to a few holidays with him, and tried to come to shabbat whenever you could, but today was special. Rosh Hashanah was an important holiday and the first time you were going with Steven, and the first time you were going to a service of any kind where his father was the rabbi.

You had met Steven last year in January and were thrilled when Elias invited you both to come to Chicago for the High Holy days, Rosh Hashanah, which was the start of the new year in the Hebrew Calendar, and Yom Kippur was next week and a day of atonement. Rosh Hashanah was a favorite of Steven’s so he would be fronting during services, although Marc would come to the front when people came to talk to him; people he had known in childhood. It was going to be a little difficult for Marc, but he’s said he’s made a lot of progress in recent years regarding his family, and you were so proud of him.

Marc would be fronting for Yom Kippur, a holiday based around atonement for sins. Steven was the one who usually fronted during shabbat, he was the most insistent on staying observant, but Marc and Jake had their days too. Jake liked Purim, and Passover and Hanukkah had multiple days making it easy for them all to get time, Elias knew of all the boys, and although Jake was more guarded for Marc’s sake, Steven was thrilled to help Marc rebuild his relationship as he and Elias got to know each other.

You’d met Elias earlier this week, but were determined to make a good impression at services, following along as best you could and participating where was appropriate as a non-Jew; you were just so thankful they boys were sharing this part with you, and between meeting their dad, Marc showing you around his hometown and celebrating the High Holy Days with them, you felt like a part of their family.

Still, you were nervous. “Do I look okay?” You ask Steven as he adjusted his tie in the mirror.

When he turned to you, his face lit up so bright you couldn’t help but smile with him. “Oh, love!” Steven walked over to where you stood. “You look absolutely ravishing.” He wrapped you up in your arms and kissed your hair so he didn’t mess up your makeup, but his lips trailed down to your neck.

“Steven!” You giggle. “I’m not trying to look sexy, I want to make a good impression! Is this dress not appropriate?”

Marc fronted. “It’s beautiful, baby, so are you. Although you’re gonna wanna wear sandals.”

You tried your best to follow along. You didn’t know a lick of Hebrew except a handful of words you’d picked up during shabbat and from what Steven explained to you, but you were trying.

The music was beautiful and kept you engaged, and it was fun to see everyone tapping their feet, even if you weren’t sure when you were supposed to; you followed Steven’s lead for that. Elias has greeted you warmly when he saw you and Steven, and although you didn’t get the chance to talk much (as a rabbi, he had many people to welcome), Steven promised there would be time at home.

During one part, Elias welcomed everyone to wrap their tallit around their neighbor, and when Steven wrapped you up in his tallit you really did feel like a part of his family, a part of him. You and him stayed wrapped up like that even after that prayer was done.

“Steven?”

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s beautiful.”

After the service, the congregation walked a few blocks down to Lake Michigan for the Tashlich, getting into the sand beach. This is why Marc suggested sandals.

Steven handed you bread. “We’ll say a prayer, and then you think of your sins during the year and tear off a piece of the bread into the water for each sin.”

Jake fronted. “Although considering last night, we might need more than one slice.”

“Jake!” You whispered, gently smacking his arm before taking off your sandles, as Steven took off his socks and shoes. Most didn’t get in the water, but you wanted to wade, to feel the cool lake water on your toes. “We need to come back next summer so we can swim.”

Steven kissed you. “I’d love that. I love everything we do together.”

You then turn to focus on the task at hand, casting the sinful bread into the water to be washed away. You swore Marc had fronted during this cleansing, only confirmed to you by the way he reach out for you when you stumbled leaving the water.

Back at the synagogue, there was bread, honey and apples, Steven explaining it was meant to ring in a ‘sweet’ new year. It was delicious, and clearly the people put a lot of care into planning it.

“This apple bread is BUSSIN” You practically moan as you devour it.

Elias’s voice behind you. “Thank you, I made that one, actually”

You gasp, turning around and covering your mouth in embarrassment. “Oh my go- uh, gosh. Shoot, sorry.”

Jake is laughing at your fumbling, but Elias powers through like nothing happened. “It’s alright, did you enjoy the service?”

“Yes! I really loved the… uuhh… Marc, baby, what was that part I liked?”

Marc’s hand was firmly clasped with yours; his stability when he was anxious. “The shofar”

“Yeah, the shofar!”

Elias nodded. “Marc ever tell you he was the ba’al tokeah one year?”

Marc leaned in to clarify that was what the person who blew the shofar was called.

You lit up at that, Marc didn’t play instruments so this was new information. “No he didn’t!”

“And he played Hamen in his Hebrew school play for Purim, have you ever been to Purim?”

Shaking you head, you squeeze Marc’s hand three times in reassurance, and he squeezes it three times right back. You knew any mention of his childhood was contentious, but he had mentioned no wanting to tiptoe around it anymore. “I didn’t go last year, we had just begun dating back then.”

“You’ll have to go some time, it’s definitely a fun one.”

“You gonna take me next year?” You smile at your boyfriend.

He smiled right back. “I think that can be arranged.”

Elias excused himself, needing to see a few more people before the family service that afternoon, promising you had his attention that evening.

Steven stayed firmly by your side. “Are you having a good time? It’s not too much?”

You lean into him, happily munching on some honey covered apples. “I’m having a wonderful time.” Looking at him again, you place a hand softly on his cheek and smile when he keens into you. “I wanna know all the things that make you, you, and this is something obviously important. Thank you for inviting me.”

Steven bought you in for a soft, modest kiss, his lips tasting like honey and you were sure yours were the same. “Thank you for coming with me, and thank you for taking us as we are. All the good and bad.”

"Shana tova, Steven."

"Shana tova."

***************

SHANA TOVA TO MY JEWISH READERS! I know I'm late but after services I took like a 2 hour nap lolololol.

Also, I have another Rosh Hashanah fic! this was posted last year... can you believe ive been writing over a year?!?!?!

Love ya'll. Gotta admit I'm a little nervous bc posting Jewish content always makes the wierdos come out in my asks lol.

@fandxmslxt69 @k-ra @ivystoryweaver @whatthefishh @campingwiththecharmings @littlenosoul @missdictatorme @steven-grants-world @ahookedheroespureheart @runa-falls @mikaelak @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @@myfandomlikesandstories

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon boys x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #moon boys #fanfiction #jake lockley #moon knight fluff #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #marc spector #jewish marc spector

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jester-lover · 1 year

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I just loved your idea 'Dorm Leaders with a Girlfriend Who Wears Suits', it was so cute, beautiful and wonderful, it would be great to have a sequel. Do you think about continuing? Can I order a sequel please? Please!

Note: I totally understand if you don't want to. Continue to do a wonderful job.

Hi anon! Thank you for your ask! The suit post was my most liked post! I’m very proud of it, and I think it helped me develop my writing style. I’ve been wanting to do a part two recently, so here it is. You didn’t mention what you wanted by saying sequel, and since I personally think the dorm leaders have been already done, I’ll do my favorite group, the first years!!

The First Years with a Girlfriend who wears Suits

Warnings: fluff, stupid gender roles being destroyed, very flustered boys, insecurity (not from the reader), talks of gender roles/identity, whoever reads this is so cool, reader is so hot and confident (did I mention she’s so hot)

Ace Trapolla

Oh wow

No matter how much Ace tends to blab on and on, the moment he sees you for the first time he’s left speechless

He’s never met someone who takes up all the attention of a room in such a short time

Deuce, who’s sorta concerned at this point, pokes him and tells him to stop staring at you

But before his dark haired friend can stop him, ace runs up to you and asks for your number

Congratulations! You now have a little idiot boyfriend who would do anything you tell him to

He’s so obsessed with you his dorm members become a little concerned

Your confidence is so strong, you manage to talk him out of getting into trouble on multiple occasions

He knows your sheer presence captivates the students, so he asks you to be in your best suits for formal events

Pro tip: when you put on your uniform in the morning, ask him to help with your tie. He’ll be super flustered

You managed to make him feel shyer than he’s ever felt, butterflies in his stomach with every smile, slight glance or forehead kiss

He definitely takes you to a formal dance so that you can dip him during the romantic songs

“Y/N, I wonder how you stay so confident, I could never!”

Deuce Spade

I hope you understand that he’s willing to lay down everything for you

You definitely win over his mom, showing up with a bouquet of roses and being ever so polite

He’s so surprised someone so confident and beautiful like you would spend time with a wierdo like him

You quickly quell those feelings, he’s the only guy for you!

You help him fix himself up for special occasions, it always makes him feel special, it makes him feel worthy

Your confidence break’s open a certain floodgate in Deuce, suddenly he’s not as worried about appearing completely and utterly reformed every hour of every day

When he’s alone with you, dress shirts loose and ties loosened, he’s free to be himself

“Today has been so difficult, somehow you make it seem so easy.”

Jack Howl

A confident and strong girlfriend is perfect for Jack

Wolves mate for life, and he is so glad it’s you

You always know how to make him feel special, make him feel like the only guy in the world

His tail is wagging rn

You two tend to scare people together, him being really buff, you looking like a 1940s gangster

He opens up to you quickly, he trusts you more than anything

He definitely gets shy whenever you show up to any sporting event he’s playing in, but he plays better than he ever did

You tend to lead the relationship, often times leading him away to dates, spoiling him with presents

(He’s so househusband material)

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that, you know what you do to me…”

Epel Felmier

He wants to be with you, and he wants to be you

You have a level of courage in whatever you wear, while he’s forced to wear whatever Vil puts on him

Now, perhaps you should use your skills of persuasion to get Vil to allow him more freedom

This boy asks you so many questions

How does he appear masculine without Vil noticing?

How do you pair your ties and socks?

Why does his face get all hot every time you smile at him?

Answer him!!

He finds himself being more comfortable with himself around you, his insecurities of being less masculine go away for a brief second

He can be a man for you, and he doesn’t have to pretend

Epel is most grateful for your advice, a girl like you is hard to find

“I don’t even know where to start! We both radiate manliness right now Y/N!”

Sebek Zigvolt

He immediately deemed you sketchy the first time he saw you

Where you a threat to his Young Master?! He needs to keep a close eye on you!

You keep catching the cute mint haired boy staring at you, so you approach him and ask him why he’s staring

loudly

In front of everyone

He’s outraged! How can you make such a mockery of him? In front of Lilia nonetheless! (Cue Lilia, laughing so hard he’s doubling over)

Taking a pen out of your suit pocket, you scroll your number on his wrist, press a kiss to his cheek and walk away

Now he’s quiet, wondering what just happened

Guess he’s your boyfriend now

He definitely texts you good morning every day, asking what you wish to wear today, just so he can emotionally prepare for the fashion he’s about to see

He’ll never say in out loud, but the 70s era suits are his favorite thing you wear

Emotionally constipated crocodile boy has no clue what to do with himself

This one time he caught you without a suit jacket, your dress shirt untucked, just lounging on one of the shabby ramshackle sofas, you looked absolutely stunning, and he just stood there with his jaw open

“HUMAN! W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST SITTING THERE!? YOU’RE ABOUT TO MISS MY DUEL WITH SILVER!”

A sequel was never really in the cards tbh, but i read the request and this came to me. If you ever notice how extensively I write for Sebek, it’s because he’s my favorite hehe. Dialogue is my weak point. Thank you for reading!!!❤️

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scrfiice · 4 months

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𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ BONES AND ALL is a South Korean idol band managed by DARK GARDEN CO. a subsidiary of Flowerbank Entertainment. The band originally debuted in 2016 but fell into obscurity in 2018, becoming inactive and presumedly disbanded. After a five-year gap in activity, the group reformed with a new lineup in 2023 with the members: JUWON, HARUAKI, CHERRY, WEI, and JIHO.

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ KANG JUWON was born in 1994 in Busan, South Korea. Juwon originally entered the entertainment industry as an idol, training for five years to debut in a boy group called "Broken Line," in 2016 under Stormedia, which was met with little success. Juwon would find some success with Broken Line when the band sub-unit "Call Again?" debuted in 2018. Tragically, Broken Line's career would be cut short in 2020 when the group's maknae, Kitae, would commit a murder-suicide, leading to the group's disbandment. Juwon would leave Stormedia the same year, becoming an actor under another broke company. During this time, he would begin to date superstar Jung Yoonah, who allegedly helped him get his foot in the door with Dark Garden Company. His acting career would be put on hold in 2022 for reasons unknown to his fans. He would then go on to be the first member of Bones and All to be announced.

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫full name: Kang Juwon

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫birthday: march 14, 1994

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ birthplace: busan, south korea

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ position: frontman, bassist, main vocalist

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ former groups: BROKEN LINE ( 2016 - 2020 )

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ height: 185 cm || 6′1

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ ethnicity: korean

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ faceclaim: christian yu

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ CHARLOTTE "CHERRY" KIM was born in 1999 in Chicago. Cherry's career started when she was sixteen, being a member of a grunge rock band, DOLLEYES. Cherry experienced a lot of mistreatment from managers and higher ups while in Dolleyes, many of the older people around her taking advantage of her want to be famous. Dolleyes only seemed to be popular on social media, as the group often struggled to sell out even small venues. Due to their lack of success, Cherry would leave DOLLEYES in 2017 and become a soloist. Now 18, the label she was under pushed for a more "mature" image, giving Cherry a "good girl gone bad" concept she was never truly comfortable with but went through with anyways. Cherry would collect a small yet cult-like fanbase with her spotty solo career. Cherry would toss all that to the curb, however, when approached by Kim Iseul to join Bones and All. Desperate to be famous and to get back in touch with her musical roots, Cherry would join BNA in 2023 for their rebrand.

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫full name: Charlotte "Cherry" Kim

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫birthday: november 4, 1999

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ birthplace: chicago, illinois

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ position: main vocalist, guitarist, face of the group

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ former groups: DOLLEYES ( 2014 - 2017 )

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ height: 162 cm || 5′4

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ ethnicity: korean

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ faceclaim: kim minjeong

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ YAMADA HARUAKI was born in 1995 in Osaka, Japan. Many fans say Haruaki is doing charity work by being in BNA as he's a massively respected guitarist back in Japan. At seventeen, Haruaki joined his cousin's rock band "OSOKOYA" originally as the group's bassist, later turned guitarist and vocalist. OSOKOYA would gain much success, to the shock of the four-member band, slowly becoming leading figures in the Japanese rock scene. However, Haruaki would leave the band in 2021, becoming a soloist for a short period of time before abruptly relocating to Korea. His fans were shocked by this sudden change but due to their unwavering dedication to him, they supported him mindlessly. Haruaki would be announced at the guitarist of Bones and All in 2023.

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫full name: Yamada Haruaki

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫birthday: september 8, 1995

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ birthplace: Osaka, Japan

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ position: main vocalist, guitarist, face of the group

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ former groups: OSOKOYA ( 2012 - 2021 )

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ height: 175 cm || 5′9

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ ethnicity: japanese

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ faceclaim: nakamoto yuta

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ JEON JIHO was born in 1997 in Seoul, South Korea. He trained for five years. Jiho was a child actor, acting between the ages of 6 and 12 before disappearing from the industry to presumedly focus on his studies. When Jiho would return to the industry, it'd be under Angelico Entertainment in the now-defunct boyband Cicada in 2020. Jiho never liked being in Cicada as he says most of the members didn't get along with one another and the management was abusive. Jiho would silently leave Cicada in 2023, just eight months before their abrupt disbandment. Many saw this as him jumping the ship early, while others see it as him abandoning his team, calling him a coward. Soon after he left Angelico, he was recruited by Carmen Bae to join Bones and All as their drummer.

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫full name: Jean Jiho

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫birthday: september 22nd, 1997

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ birthplace: seoul, soth korea

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ position: drummer and vocalist

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ former groups: Cicada ( 2020 - 2023 )

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ height: 188 cm || 6′2

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ ethnicity: korean

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ faceclaim: lee sangyeon

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ JIANG WEI was born in 1999 in Chengdu, China. Wei is the only member of Bones and All who did not have an established career before joining. The most she has under her belt is her piano concerts and a few viral covers of her singing "rock" versions of Kpop songs. Wei would be a trainee under Flowerbank for three years before being approached by Lee Iseul about if she wanted to join a band as she believed it would fit her visuals better. Wei would be the final member added to Bones and All in 2023.

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫full name: Jiang Wei

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫birthday: December 24, 1999

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ birthplace: Chengdu, China

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ position: lead vocalist, bassist, pianist, cellist

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ former groups: N/A

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ height: 152 cm || 5′2

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ ethnicity: taiwanese

𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ faceclaim: nana ouyang

#𖥻 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖦹 ۫ READ IT N' WEEP #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idol oc #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #kpop au #idol au #kpop addition #idolverse #oc girl group #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol #oc kpop group #stray kids addition

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maxwell-grant · 9 months

Note

so with the show gone, what's your headcanon on the ventures's future? have the creators mentioned anything about it?

A few things in passing but not too much. Namely just that Dean is gonna lose his hair and that Hank will eventually step foot in Mars as an adventurer. I think Doc and Jackson said as much that they want to keep the door open for future stories in case they do get to come back, and that they'll always have new things they'll want to do, but anyway yes okay, post-show headcanons:

Doc burns through Jonas Jr's fortune and for the most part remains the same, but he eventually achieves a true breakthrough of his own: a permanent solution to hair loss. It comes with a few little side effect mutations but for the most part it does work and Doc is, reasonably pretty happy that for once he gets something to his name that he actually made and isn't something horrible done to him. "Reasonably happy" is as happy as Rusty is ever allowed to get, and he dies a few weeks later by something predictably stupid, like auto-erotic asphyxiation.

It's shitty, Dr Orpheus cries over it, but everyone kinda saw it coming.

Most of Doc's assets get seized and the boys actually don't get much, he forgot to put them in the will because he made it back when he still had the clone farm. Rusty's last wish is to be cremated so nobody gets to clone him, and for his ashes to be scattered at Spanakopita, which has become a big White Lotus-esque resort island since Doc's last visit, built by Giorgo almost entirely off the Venture fortune. On the boat ride to Spanakopita, (WHITE LOTUS SEASON 2 SPOILERS) Sgt Hatred dies exactly like Tanya did and nobody bothers to fish his body back up.

Eventually some Rusty clones will pop up over the years, one of which is gonna be on that offscreen Rusty that went on the Cleveland Time Machine adventure with Billy. Once they leave Rusty's science basement, Billy and Pete White will never make it to the big leagues, but they'll pretty much be together until the end, and they are gonna go on some real weird adventures, like freaky Doom Patrol stuff, St.Cloud is gonna get up to some shit in the future once he bumbles into becoming rich enough to warp space-time around him just by existing and turn into the world's first Level 100 antagonist by the least amount of effort humanly possible. Actually the whole world is gonna get a lot weirder in the future, when stuff like the cloning tech and anti-gravity music boxes bleed over into general public use.

At some point the Earth will be menaced by the return of General Treister, who has absorbed enough cosmic radiation to become Galactus (this one was mentioned in the artbook as something they'd play around with, if they ever brought Treister back). He will be stopped from devouring the planet by a joint effort between Hank Venture, the Guild and the OSI, and Hunter Gathers will sacrifice herself in the process, passing the OSI's leadership to Shore Leave, who will bring SPHINX back every few months just so he has an excuse to interject SPHINX! into sentences again for funsies. Brock essentially becomes the OSI's equivalent to Red Death: basically retired, but he goes on assignments a couple times per year or gets brought onboard for decision-making, some part of him actually does kinda like this life and he stands by the friends he's made in it. He keeps touch with the Ventures but for the most part he flies solo. At some point he will have enough illegitimate children across the world for them to start their own super spy group.

Hank becomes an adventurer, and for the most part he just remains Hank as always. He makes a lot of strange alliances all over the place, he doesn't resort as much to his entourage of personas but some still come up on occasion (the double life of Enrico Matassa is one for the history books), he reforms Shallow Gravy with Dermott (who is totally 100% getting kicked out of the OSI) and Gary and HELPeR and Scare Bear playing the triangle, for the most part he lives up to the idea of being more "Rusty Venture" than Rusty himself ever was and he becomes like the first major Venture adventurer who's not some kind of monster. He completely and totally blows out any chance at settling down into normalcy, but he lives an exciting life. 50/50 on him either dying young doing something incredibly stupid and careless, or somehow stumbling his way into full-blown Highlander immortality just as 21 foresaw.

Dean I think stays in New York full time and is another 50/50 on him: he's either gonna succeed in having a normal life, or he's becoming a villain, I'm taking the fandom side on this one, villain Dean is not the most exciting idea in the world but it has some legs to it and I can't see him being anything else if he's gotta be a part of that binary whether he likes it or not. In the former, I imagine he finishes college, maybe gets a degree in something lowkey, probably changes his name and settles down with somebody and stops answering most calls, basically makes it like Professor Van Helping in that his life is okay and that's just how he wants it. Villain Dean I think happens in largely a similar way to how it happened to Dr Girlfriend taking over the Guild: not something they wanted or planned to, but it's the best way to keep things stable and keep themselves afloat amidst the chaos that surrounds them whether they want it or not. Maybe he finally listens to King Crimson and it breaks his brain into mad science a bit, as it tends to do, or maybe he invokes his blood right to appoint himself Sovereign but otherwise keeps hands-free of the Guild, and only does it so the Guild leaves him alone and he can boss other villains into standing down. He's gonna have freaks in costume trying to get him for the rest of his life so, fuck it, when in Rome or something.

At some point in the very near future Mantilla takes over the Peril Partnership and guts it to make ARCH a real thing, and maybe in the future ARCH kinda replaces the Guild at the forefront of supervillain institutions, with the Guild having the final word in matters of diplomacy and the old guard and ARCH as the new high-tech face of things. She never succeeds in getting to be besties with Dr Girlfriend, but she does hit it off nicely with Sirena, who takes over after Wide Wale and fires basically everyone that was still around after the Morpho saga. The Order of the Triad actually does succeed in making it pretty big, with comparatively few players but some very powerful additions like Lila, Red Death's daughter, and some of Jefferson's old buddies. Definitely not Triana though, she's got better to do than run with her dad's crew. Somehow HELPeR winds up joining and gets married to the Pants Golem.

Gary is gonna keep on being Henchman 21 up until the moment The Monarch dies, at which point he might actually undergo another big transformation of the self and will probably just outright become a sidekick to the heroes. He's never going to truly be a hero or a villain himself, he gave those a try and he's pretty firmly the kind of guy that only comes to life when someone else tells him what to do, so I imagine he's gonna bounce around until he finds something he finds fulfilling, will probably go on plenty of adventures with Hank. Really by this point he's already an honorary Venture, with The Monarch out of the picture so goes the pretense. Sheila, I think she just runs the Guild for as long as she can, probably reformulates it into something more sustainable by the end of her run. Sheila's arc in the show is about her climbing the ranks and moving away from her role as a number two, and distancing herself more from The Monarch because of it, and she's not going back to her old life so I think she's just fully going to remain The Sovereign up until she gets too sick of it, possibly moves into politics at Radical Left's suggestion and hands the Guild off to Phantom Limb. Maybe even becomes President of the United States for a bit, if anyone in the cast is becoming president it's really gotta be her. Or maybe not since she's overqualified, but still, if she does, in the process she hands the Guild to Phantom Limb, who basically makes it a drinking buddies gentleman's club and is too retired and rich and old to care much about anything anymore.

The movie ends with a pretty firm statement that The Monarch is just going to keep on being The Monarch no matter what and that he will in fact never stop trying to arch Rusty, and he's had like a million chances to kill Doc by now and didn't seize any of them so really yes he will just keep doing this until one or both pass. And I'm definitely thinking Doc goes first, Malcolm is torn between celebrating and flipping the fuck out that Doc DARED to not let The Mighty Monarch kill him, and for a brief moment he's completely and totally unsure as to what the fuck is he going to do with his life. He's like this close to genuinely trying to turn his life around and try to be a Blue Morpho-esque hero again if only because he and Gary had some good times and, y'know by this point he hates the Guild more so than the OSI, but then the Rusty clones show up and, you know what, fine, I can work with this, THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH IS NO MATCH FOR THE ACID CUMSHOT OF VENGEANCE, DOCTOR VENTURE, MUUUHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! and then he crashes his new butterglider into a cliffside Wile E.Coyote style and he dies like two weeks into a new plan.

Gary cries, Sheila's heartbroken, but again, they and everyone totally saw this coming.

#replies tag #venture bros #the venture brothers #the venture bros #adult swim #doc hammer #jackson pollock #rusty venture #the monarch #dean venture #hank venture #brock samson #henchman 21 #dr girlfriend

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