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thelawsofdaylight · 6 months

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I'm sorry if this isn't approriate, but I don't really understand why you find Les Mis a good target for a climate protest? I get that the musical has themes that align with the protesters but like... what was the good outcome? Are there really People in that audience that don't know climate change is happening? How Will this change their mind? What action is meant to be brought on by trowing soup at paintings or disrupting a performance? Does that actually help the cause of combatting climate change at all? Does it help make people more aware, does it have an effect on the mechanisms of polluters? Isn't there anything more focused that these resources (both money and the incredible bravery and drive of the People themselves) could be better focused on. These protest feels so different from like, people chaining themselves to a private jet or the schoolchildren going up to parliaments by the thousand to demand policy chances to better their future. All of the JSO actions feels so performative, I just don't see how they are actually doing anything of even the mechanism by which they are meant to accomplish anything? Which doesn't mean that the people involved aren't great people or that the reaction of the Les Mis crowd wasn't fucked up. Just... what was even the goal?

Hey! I know it's been a while since I made that post supporting the JSO protestors but I've gotten a few asks like this in the time since (and am still getting them) so I'm responding to this as the most good-faith one in my inbox and hopefully it answers others that have been asked to me in the past couple weeks as well. Disclaimer: If I'm responding to things outside the remit of this ask, it's likely that it's because someone else sent an ask about it and I've been juggling them all in my head as I've been thinking on a response.

I think in order to answer the first part of the ask we have to tackle the second. 'What has this action achieved' only works as a comprehensive criticism if we look at it in isolation to all of JSO's other actions. What I mean by this is: JSO launched by blocking oil refineries for days on end. In the two years they've been active they've done similar actions, including but not limited to disrupting fuel distribution centres, petrol stations, interrupting fossil fuel conferences, and, most recently, trying to stop the relocation of asylum seekers to prison barges. Their actions go far beyond blocking roads and disruption of public events. I think this is important to establish as I don't know how much of a working knowledge anyone not in the UK Climate movement actually has about JSO and I think it's good we're all on the same page.

But if they do all that (effective, important) direct action, then why target Les Mis? What does a West End show have to do with fossil fuel companies and climate change? And in response to these questions I'll ask one of my own: were you aware of the fact that JSO tried to stop migrants from being deported until I mentioned it just now? A lot of these actions, the ones that actually target infrastructure and confront those directly responsible, get little to no media coverage. When news of the Les Mis action first broke out, I saw so many people on Twitter with the same reactionary takes: why target Les Mis when the Conservative Party Conference literally happened the same weekend? And that's a fair and valid point- if it wasn't for the fact that JSO were at the conference. I know this because I was there too. They had a huge bloc in the march and went on to do other actions in the city after the march had ended. The whole thing, the entire 10,000+ strong protest, got maybe 30 seconds coverage on the local news and not even a mention of JSO's presence (or of climate change in general for that matter.) JSO's previous actions directed at fossil fuel companied themselves get very little, if any, coverage compared to their big flashy sports/awards show/performance interruptions.

So yeah, some of JSOs actions are 'performative'. But I don't think it's unreasonable to suggest that even performative actions have their place within the wider struggle. I understand not liking public disruption as a tactic and I understand the issues with it, but I also think it's worth reflecting on why groups like JSO use it.

Editing my draft here to report that earlier today they smashed the frame of a painting that was previously vandalised by the Suffragette movement in 1914. That's a performative action, sure, but you have to admit it makes a point. Just like the tageting of Les Mis, a play about an unjust society and the people striving to change it, makes a point about hypocrisy. It gets the media coverage. We can debate all day about the usefulness of that coverage and if chasing media headlines should be our goal in the first place... but at the end of the day, it's been proven that JSOs membership grows every time they do something like this. It gets more people to join, which means next time it comes round to blocking key infrastructure, they'll be in a stronger position to succeed.

This isn't to say don't criticise them at all! I actually think criticisms like this one are a key part of organising and, done with care, can only make our movements stronger. I have my own issues with JSO- namely, the carelessness with which arrest is actively encouraged/promoted as the only valid form of resistance- but that's a whole other conversation and one that doesn't undermine my support and solidarity for the activists who are doing those actions (and sacrificing a whole lot in the process.) I think mass direct action movements are rarely ever perfect but I also think we need to show solidarity first and foremost when people are trying to do the right thing, especially if how they're doing it is in conjunction with or as a response to other tactics.

#les mis #just stop oil #i know this is old news now but this was in my drafts and i feel like i should probably still post it given that JSO are in the news again #also disclaimer: since my last post i found out that not only do i know one of the ppl who interrupted les mis #but turns out we've actually taken direct action together in the past #and i'm not about to announce details of my ongoing court case on tumblr dot com #BUT i think it's also worth keeping in mind that a lot of these activists aren't only doing the 'performative' stuff #sometimes they also [redacted]

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sollucets · 11 months

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could you maybe write something where akk calls aye his home?

i absolutely can do that, nonny, thank u for asking! have a little bit (1.5k. of course.) of long-distance akkaye :') loosely related to the last prompt but fine to read without it

💜

“Akk, are you sleeping?”

Aye’s voice is tinny, the noises of a subway station behind him just the right side of too-loud through Akk’s phone speakers to catch his slow-moving attention. His headphones must have slipped out; he doesn’t remember it happening.

“No,” he answers, like a liar, and pushes himself upright on his dorm bed with some effort.

He’d given up on holding his head up to look at the screen part way through Aye talking about one of the other international students he works with and her hopeless crush on a Thai grad student senior of theirs that Aye is 100% sure is taken, and all of the accompanying drama. “You think P’Win has a partner already.”

“That’s the last thing you heard?” Aye asks, pouting a little on the tiny screen under his big blue scarf. His cheeks are pink. It’s really, really cute. Someone passes behind him; Akk thinks he hears the edges of a robotic voice making an announcement. “I don’t just think so, I know so, and I was telling you all the evidence.”

“Do you have a conspiracy board for this too, or am I still special?”

Aye says something extremely inappropriate for a public place in response, but he says it in Thai, so he’s probably safe. Akk still opens his mouth to scold him on principle, but he’s caught by a yawn before he can say anything, jaw cracking unpleasantly.

Aye’s expression melts from put-upon irritation to fondness so quickly it’s impressive. “You don’t have to stay up so late for me,” he says. “Don’t you have class in the morning? At nine, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” grumbles Akk with a sigh, but he swings his legs over the side of the bed, picks up his phone sans headphones, and heads into the bathroom barefoot. “It’s not really so late. And besides, you’d pout if I went to bed without calling. It’s our day.”

Their day, Thursday specifically, had been the day that worked best with both their busy schedules and the six-hour time difference for most of the first semester of their time apart. They’ve missed only once, during Akk’s midterms, and Aye had texted no less than thirty times that day, all test-taking memes and supportive emojis. Now, though, Aye’s classes combined with his new work in his university's tutoring center run into the London evening; it’s midnight in Chiang Mai.

Aye says something in response, but whatever it is is drowned out by the noise of a rush of people behind him, all probably getting off of a train.

“What?” asks Akk, propping his phone against the bathroom mirror and grabbing his toothbrush.

“If it’s really not that late, then why are you falling asleep while I’m talking, hm? Am I so boring to you?”

Akk rolls his eyes, squeezing out a little toothpaste, and says, “Maybe I just didn’t want to hear you go on and on about P’Win anymore, hm?”

As expected, Aye zeroes in on that immediately. “Aww, is my baby jealous?”

Akk sticks his toothbrush in his mouth to avoid answering and weathers the ensuing and expected storm of teasing very bravely, if he does say so himself. He lets the ease of falling into a familiar dynamic soothe the very slight sting, and he listens patiently without showing even a hint of a smile on his face at how pleased Aye looks to have ‘won’ that admission.

“And he’s almost as handsome as me,” Aye is saying, in his most annoying tone of voice, when suddenly he seems to stutter for a moment, his expression freezing in place on his face. It’s odd enough that Akk makes a questioning noise through his mouthful of toothpaste.

“Akk…” Aye starts. He looks conflicted now, mouth turning down even as he speaks. “You’re not — really, though, right?”

Akk blinks. Then spits. Then says, “No,” even though it’s not 100% true.

His face must show it, because Aye’s frown droops even further and he says, clearly enunciated, “It’s not like that. You know I’m just—”

“Teasing,” Akk interrupts, having mercy on him. “I know. Aye, no, you’re fine. I don’t actually think you’re serious, or you wouldn't have spent the last half hour explaining why P’Win is absolutely definitely taken anyway.” And you wouldn’t usually worry that I did, Akk thinks, so why?

Usually, if he thinks he’s gone too far, Aye just drapes himself over Akk like a particularly affectionate cat, no matter what he’s doing. He kisses his way back to forgiveness, he brings Akk dinner or looks over his homework or buys him stupid, cute little charms to put on his phone keychain, and Akk always lets him even and especially if he isn’t actually mad, and — he can’t do any of that, six hours and half the world away. Oh. This is that communication thing they’re supposed to be better at by now.

Aye is still staring at him with giant, horrible pleading eyes, because he doesn’t believe him, and he shouldn’t because Akk is still sort of lying.

Akk sighs. “I’m jealous of anyone who gets to see you all the time.” He can’t keep looking at Aye, his gaze drifting towards the edge of the bathroom counter. “Just a little. That’s all it is. I’m— glad you have Thai friends, actually. You seemed a bit homesick lately. I think it’s cheering you up.”

It’s silent for a little too long, and Akk finally looks up to make sure nothing’s happened to the connection and finds Aye with one hand over his mouth, eyes still huge but soft around the edges now.

“What,” he mumbles.

“My boyfriend is the sweetest,” Aye says, as he’d feared he would, all earnest and sincere and completely without the teasing edge, which makes it worse.

Akk jerks his head away again, in a motion he couldn’t control if he wanted to. He puts his toothbrush into the cup with more force than is strictly necessary. “It’s just the truth, isn’t it?”

“Phi reheated omelets on his break the other day and I thought I was gonna cry for a minute,” Aye tells him, laughing an embarrassed little laugh. “They’re not right here. They’re all undercooked and flavorless.”

“Did you get to have any?” asks Akk, imagining Aye looking (up, statistically) at this mysterious P’Win with his awful begging eyes.

“I wouldn't steal my senior’s lunch.”

Akk can’t help the little satisfied twitch of his mouth at that scandalized tone. Aye steals Akk’s lunch all the time. “Too bad. I get it a little, though. I really miss the way my mom prepares things.”

Chiang Mai is easily 14 hours of travel from his house, more if you count having to switch trains, and he’s only been back once. He dutifully calls his parents every Sunday, but they don’t really have good enough reception there for regular video calls.

Aye makes a sympathetic noise, then glances at something up and to the right of the camera. He frowns. “Baby, I have to go soon.”

“‘Kay,” answers Akk, raising a hand to cover a sudden yawn.

“Don’t worry about me too much,” Aye says, smiling at the screen all little and v-shaped. “I’m okay. I’ll go to a market and get my own ingredients and make my own omelet, and I’ll text you all the time, and I’ll call my mom twice so she can pretend I’m her favorite over you. Don’t you get too homesick either, okay?”

“Even if—“ Akk starts, hesitates, then forges on. He can say these things; he’s worked to say these things. “Even if I visit,” he tells Aye’s tiny, beloved face, miles and miles away and here in his dorm bathroom, “I’ll still be homesick until you come back. You’re my home.”

Aye stares at him, mouth open for a minute, then demands, “Pick up your phone.”

“What?”

“Just do it. Pick up your phone.”

Slowly and distrustfully, Akk takes his phone off the counter and holds it closer to his face. “Wha—“

Aye’s screen moves suddenly closer and then goes dark, the sound weird and muffled. “Hug me,” he says, just barely audible.

Akk laughs a little, breathless and pointlessly fond. What must it look like, to those people in the subway station? Alone in his own room, though, he doesn’t hesitate to pull his phone to his chest, right over his heart.

After a moment, though, he gives in to the temptation to peek and finds the screen still dark. “Aye.”

The station blurs into view again behind an Aye who looks notably pinker than before, a rush of people just like the last one passing behind again. “You’re so — I love you so much,” Aye tells him, sounding helpless, “and I miss you. It’s stupid that term break is still so far away.”

“Aye,” says Akk again, unable to stop grinning if he’d actively tried. “Don’t be late for your train.”

“They’re always late for me,” grumbles Aye, but he sighs and says, “Go to bed, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you too,” Akk tells him, just before hanging up so he doesn’t have to deal with whatever new heart-squeezing thing Aye’s face is going to do at that.

Just before he actually gets into bed, quiet in the sudden silence of his empty dorm, his phone lights up with a text: "❤️❤️❤️❤️"

And far away, in a subway car in England, Aye barely represses a little noise of delight to receive “❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️” in return.

#akkayan #the eclipse #my fic tag #arbitrary milestone prompts #yes by the way that *is* absolutely between us win #who goes on exchange to the uk postseries also #(or at least. kirano has written so many fics abt it i assume it's novel canon and won't be told otherwise)#i couldn't resist #aye and win would be such a combination though can u imagine #also i did engage in a little light making fun of england here as is my right but thai omelets actually are like. cooked a Lot more #like they use a whole ton of oil it's almost pancake-like #(and! im aware it's called 'the tube' there but i'm not writing that in the internal narration of a non-english-speaker ok)#also. i gave aye my old job in this one haha. i worked in my college's tutoring center all 4 years i was there #ok. i'm stopping now enjoy these embarrassing boys

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