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kaigarax · 3 months

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Absolutely Yours

Itadori Yuuji x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone you create something together with."

Your gentle humming alongside the strumming of a guitar fills the silence of the room with a warm atmosphere. You sit on the edge of Itadori Yuuji’s bed, your legs hanging over the side and your back up against his own.

Music sheets and a laptop, playing a loop of dance instructions, are sprawled out on Itadori’s bed in front of him as he tries his best to memorize the materials.

If you had asked a young Itadori Yuuji what he wanted to be when he grew up the young boy likely wouldn’t have an answer. He spent most of his time simply playing and lounging around. He, like most children, didn’t think much of the future.

Now, on the other hand, if you had asked a young Itadori what he didn’t want to be, the answer would’ve been quick and simple.

The last thing he had wanted to be was an Idol. Not just did he not care much for singing but he was absolutely atrocious at acting. The only thing he could’ve been called decent in was dancing and that was only because the other kids in his class were horrible.

So how, might you ask, did Itadori suddenly find himself attending the nation's most renowned and successful school for Idol graduates? Well, that’s unfortunately another story - one that involves the death of his grandfather and the sudden appearance of an older brother he knew nothing about. One thing led to another and suddenly he found himself enrolled in classes that would train him alongside other Idol hopefuls.

Itadori let out a deep sigh, “I don’t get it.”

You laugh in response, “what don’t you get,” as you continue playing around with the melody.

Itadori pouts, leaning back and resting his head on your shoulder, “everything.”

“Everything.” You say. It sounds more musical coming from your mouth than it does his. It’s almost as if you're testing the word; searching for something that you don’t quite know. From Itadori’s vantage point he can the corners of your lips curve up into a halfway sorta smile. It appears that ‘everything’ has passed whatever arbitrary test you’ve given it.

“What’re you doing?” Itadori asks.

“Writing a song.”

“Writing a song.” Itadori feels as though the words don’t sound as brilliant when he says them. Though, in Itadori’s humble opinion, everything seems to sound nicer when you’re the one saying it. “And how’s that going?”

“Much better than your studying.” You tease.

Itadori pouts, leaning more of his weight on you in retaliation.

“Yuuji!”

“(Y/n).” He says your name slowly and pronounced, making sure to draw out each syllable.

“You’re heavy.”

“Ah!” Itadori exclaims dramatically, “I thought we were friends, (Y/n)! You hurt me when you speak like that.”

“Well it’s true! I’m practically deflating beneath you,” Itadori doesn’t relent in the amount of pressure he’s applied to your back which causes you to sigh, “what wrong, Yuuji?”

“I’m bored.”

If Itadori was facing you he’d see you roll your eyes in response, “can’t you go and bother Nobara or Megumi then?”

“You’re here,” Itadori smirks, “not them.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Glad you asked!” Itadori exclaims, as he turns you around to face him, practically manhandling you in the process, “I want you to sing for me.”

You fumble around trying your best to reorient yourself, “and how’s that supposed to help your studying.”

“I don’t know,” Itadori shrugs, “why don’t you sing that new song you’re writing?”

You pull your guitar closer to your chest causing a loose strand of hair to fall over your face, “no.”

“What? Why not? You always sing your new songs for Megumi!”

“That’s because I like to get his opinion.”

“And not mine?”

“He does most of the song writing for the three of you.” You explained.

“And?”

“And that makes him more knowledgeable in the subject.”

“Hey! I’m completely knowledgeable in songwriting.”

“Oh really?” You raise a brow in amusement while attempting to blow back that loose strand of hair from earlier, “what songs have you helped in the creation of then, completely knowledgeable Yuuji.” Itadori notes that you pay particular attention to the syllables of his name when you say them. Practically singing it. He’s had plenty of people (basically everyone) call him by his given name but he finds it sounds a little different coming from you. Feels a little different - right now more than ever.

Itadori huffs, his cheeks puffed out, “plenty.”

“And the names of those songs.”

Itadori feels his cheeks warm beneath your gaze, “none that you would’ve heard of.”

“Of course~” You say teasingly, the loose strand of hair swaying back and forth slightly. Itadori can feel a taunt somewhere in your words but decides not to comment on it. At least not while his face is scrunched both up and out in his attempt to formulate a lie.

“So… am I gonna get to hear that new song?” Itadori asked.

Finally you brush back that loose strand of hair, smiling embarrassedly, “it’s not finished.”

“Then maybe I could help you finish it.”

“Just like you’ve finished your school work?”

Itadori beams, “might as well do something productive, right?”

“Right.” You say though it seems apparent that you haven’t exactly agreed with his train of thought and reasoning. You finally look up at him, “promise you won’t tease me if it’s bad?”

He holds a hand over his heart as if reciting an oath, “scouts honour.”

You watch him skeptically for a few moments before finally smiling softly as you reposition both yourself and the guitar.

I don’t like you because you’re cool You’re cool because I like you It doesn't matter if others make fun of you Afterall, you’re my ‘hero’

Like how you say you’re sleepy Yet you’re always awake for class You act cool in front of others But are a big mush in front of dogs

Ah, you’re the one I really love Please be a ‘hero’ just for me

I want to message you on LINE I want to walk home together As you go off to your after school club ‘See you later,’ I say to myself

I want to see you on weekends And fall asleep on the phone with you But I don’t have the courage I really hate this

“So what do you think?” You asked, looking up tentatively at Itadori, a flush upon your cheeks.

Itadori barely realises that you’ve stopped singing with how loudly his heart is pounding in his chest. His hands are sweaty and he can smell your perfume. It smells soft and pretty, if that makes sense.

“Is that all you wrote?” Itatodri asks. Are hearts supposed to beat this erratically? Is he supposed to be feeling this way about one of his friends? Well, it should be normal to feel this way when listening to a love song, right? It means you did a good job at conveying your feelings to the audience.

“I did write the course as well,” you say, your cheeks hot, “I was just curious to see what you thought so far.”

“Oh yeah, it's great!” Itadori smiles brightly.

“Thanks.”

Then the two of you stare at each other awkwardly as you play invisible strings.

“Would you um, sing the rest for me?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah!” You flush, “of course.”

I want you to turn around and see me I want you to think of me

I put on perfume And choke on the scent

I want you so much And I want to be yours

‘Tomorrow will be the day’, I say Fantasizing on my bed While thinking of you See you tomorrow

Itadori nods rapidly as you stop singing, a big smile on his face.

You’ve always been really pretty but it’s not something Itadori has really noticed until right now. Did you maybe do something different with your hair? Do you usually wear glasses? Itadori can’t remember but it is suddenly the last thing on his mind as you look at him.

“So what did you think?” You ask again.

“It’s really cute,” Itadori said, finally managing to convey something intelligent. Well, intelligent enough for other humans to understand.

“Thanks,” you smile bashfully, “it’s not what I usually write but it was kinda what I was feeling in the moment, ya know?”

His heart skips a beat.

“Do you think maybe you could start the next line paralleling the first one?” Itadori asked, “but maybe from a different perspective or something? Because you kind of have the girl’s unrequited love so maybe you could do the guy’s perspective?”

“What were you thinking?” You hum, beginning to strum the beginning chords again.

“Maybe something like, ‘I don’t like you because you’re cute. You’re cute because I like you.”

“Oh!” Your eyes brighten, “I like the sound of that. Paralleling the story through another perspective but also keeping the story progression rather than just repeating what the audience already knows.”

You begin to sing.

I don’t like you because you’re cute You’re cute because I like you It doesn't matter if others make fun of you Afterall, you’re my heroine

“Something like that?” You ask, still gently strumming the guitar in your hands.

Itadori nods, attempting to clear his own throat.

Like how you say you’ll stay awake today Yet always fall asleep in class How you act like a tomboy in front of everyone Yet cry surprisingly easily

Ah, you’re the one I really love Won’t you be a ‘heroine’ just for me?

Itadori’s face feels red hot as he struggles to meet your gaze. He’s never been much of a song writer and even now he’s not sure if it’s all that well done. All he did was mostly copy what you’ve already done.

After a chord progression of neither you or Itadori singing you seem to decide to sing again.

I want to help you with your studies I want to go see movies together As you’re laughing with friends after class I say “bye bye” to myself

Itadori smiles softly, picking up where you left off.

I want to be in your story I want to brag saying “she’s my girlfriend” But I don’t think I can confess I really hate this

I want you to turn around and see me I want you to think of me

I put wax in my hair And get all sticky

I want you so much And I want to be yours

“Tomorrow will be the day” I say Fantasizing on my futon While thinking of you See you tomorrow

“Wow, maybe you really could be a songwriter, Yuuji.” You say, still gently strumming the strings of the guitar.

“Really?” Itadori beams, “you know, I was thinking about writing something for Megumi, Nobara and I but I just haven’t really gotten to it.”

You hum, “I’m excited to hear what else you can come up with.”

“Well it won’t be as good as anything you could come up with.” Itadori’s cheeks flush red, “and song writing today was only easy because I have such a good partner.”

Your eyes don’t move to look at Itadori - instead staying fixed on the guitar in your arms. But from Itadori’s vantage point he can see the slightest hint of a smile from the corner of your lips. He imagines it’s a rather pretty smile; though one could argue that all your smiles are pretty regardless of why you’re smiling in the first place.

Itadori’s room suddenly feels eerily quiet when you suddenly stop playing. The continuous sound having suddenly stopped leaves a melancholy after taste in his heart. It almost feels as though he’s lost something that he didn’t yet know he had. He watches as you reach through your bag and scribble down a bunch of words. Likely the lyrics from earlier.

His eyes trail back to your guitar which is now lying alone on his bed.

It looks like how most classic guitars would look. A curvaceous body coloured a warm brown and six beautiful dark strands of hair. The colour of the guitar is faded and chipped along the edges from constant use. Itadori’s own guitar is in better condition though that might be because he uses hiss a lot less than you. Doesn’t bring it around to as many places.

The most intriguing thing about the guitar has to be the word ‘明’ - Myeong (meaning bright or brilliance) inscribed on the edge in Hanja. It’s carved into the wood of the guitar itself in writing that looks vaguely familiar. Itadori thought it might’ve been you to have carved the word in at first but your own writing has always been a little curvier.

Maybe it was the person that bought you that guitar?

“Do you um, wanna try playing?” You ask, noticing Itadori’s gaze on the well used instrument.

“Really?” Itadori asks, his eyes wide, “you’re really going to let me play your guitar?”

“Just, don’t be too rough, okay?”

“Promise.” Itadori’s heart practically soars as you hand over the guitar to him, “so what’re you thinking we should write for the third verse?”

Fall in love with someone you create something together with.

---

Song: Sukidakara Artist: Yuika Translated to English

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuji x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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scripted-downfall · 1 year

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One of the things that pisses me off most about Sam freaking Winchester is his tendency to claim the title of "the emotionally aware one" or "the empathetic one", ostensibly "try" to help someone only when it's convenient for him, and then turn around and revoke or rescind that help the second it's not.

This happens a number of times, but some examples include:

s02e09 Croatoan: "No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit." followed by Dean telling him about John's last order (complete with Dean actually begging him to lie low for a bit) and Sam directly contravening that by leaving in the middle of the night (when he knew it'd hurt Dean to not know where his brother was, thus making the weight he was carrying worse) in s02e10 "Hunted"

The aftermath of Hell??? Like sir, wtf??? s04e08 "Wishful Thinking" has "Dean, look, you can't just shoulder this thing alone. You got to let me help." and then, when he finally tells Sam about Hell in s04e10 "Heaven and Hell", "Dean… Dean, look, you held out for 30 years. That's longer than anyone would have." And then there's Sam in s04e14 "Sex and Violence" going: "You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boo hoo." (Yes, I know that the second quote was under the influence of the siren's drug, but the whole point is that it was exposing inner thoughts, so. Still counts.)

Every episode touching on the Gadreel business. Going from s08e14 "Trial and Error" ("I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it.") to s09e13 "The Purge" ("I was ready to die. I was ready. I should have died, but you… You didn't want to be alone, and that's what all this boils down to. You can't stand the thought of being alone.")

This is kinda a part of the last bullet point, but there's a backwards example in Dean's subsequent death... Sam pulls out the s09e13 "The Purge" "No, Dean. I wouldn't. Same circumstances…I wouldn't." line because he wants to hurt his brother, and yet, the second things go wrong, he wants to take it back: "What happened with you being okay with this?" "I lied. (s09e23 "Do You Believe in Miracles?")

And there are more, but these are just the prominent examples that spring to mind now. I might add more if I come up with them, though.

And, to me, this is really bad. Because Sam knows that he's inflicting serious damage, and seems to actively want to do so. (All of the above were examples chosen precisely because they're examples of Sam consciously having "made an effort" to help Dean with a certain issue/fear/concern, and then throwing that very thing back in his face to win a battle.)

And, like... it's great that he's willing to try and help when the situation is rosy. But it really doesn't help that he sets it up as something that can be taken away at a moment's notice. Especially given that this is precisely what their father did: give positive reinforcement only when something was going his way, and pull it away again or use it as a weapon whenever his will is challenged.

And the amount of damage that's bound to do to Dean... I mean, he already spent his whole childhood and adolescence being told that he only mattered in relation to his usefulness, his ability to follow listen to orders, his willingness to accept other peoples' ways of running things without complaint, etc. His feelings? His emotions? His hopes for the future? Oh, those don't matter. And then here's Sam. And Sam... Sam acts like John was wrong. Sam says that a lot. And Sam's the smart one. So Dean maybe (maybe) lets himself believe that. It's hard, and he doesn't always buy it, but he gets a little bit better at it. But the second he pisses off Sam? All those statements about him deserving better --- about how Dean (how everyone) had an innate right to be treated in certain ways, judgements of worth aside --- fly out the window. Then, the fact that he dared to actually presume that he deserved something more is all the more ludicrous because even the person who's been helping him sees how damn worthless he is. And the whole cycle repeats over and over again through the series, until it's this jagged zig-zag that is likely hell on his mental state.

(See below the cut for a personal anecdote that I feel is relevant to this/gives insight to it. It's very me-oriented, though, and I feel kinda selfish for including it, so I'm leaving it as optional. Don't click if you don't wanna see it. No trigger warnings to my knowledge or anything; it's just not solely fandom.)

I always knew I hated Sam for this, but I'd never actually put it into words. And then, recently, something similar happened in the middle of a conflict with a friend. My head often isn't friendly, and I had a friend who helped with that. He was one of a small subset of people I could rely on to help me with certain issues. He was one of my closest friends at the time, and he knew a lot that I've only told about one or two other people. And then we get into a fight and I receive a full two paragraph rant about how horrible I am, tearing into exactly the stuff I've told him I'm concerned about, everything that he'd at least tried to help me with, etc. And I feel worse than I ever did before because even he had given up on me.

And this wasn't my brother. This was someone I trusted, yes, but we'd still not known each other for anywhere near as long as Dean's known Sam. I've not sacrificed nearly as much for him as Dean has for Sam. I've certainly not built my whole life around his esteem the way Dean has for Sam. So if this is how I feel... what does that say about Dean?

#supernatural #dean winchester #anti sam winchester #anti john winchester #but only a bit

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marta-bee · 1 year

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Good Omens reading time. :-)

Young Warlock and Adam are finally eleven, or nearly. The time for nannies and tutors and satanic nuns and what-not is past. The Hellhound approacheth. And let me tell you, if things had to get so colossally mixed up it’s damned lucky (or something in any case) that they got mixed up in precisely this way.

See, if you’ve only seen the miniseries you’d be excused for thinking Warlock is a charmingly normal preteen boy. He likes his video games. He tells charming little stories in a lisp about how the gardener says he must always be careful not to hurt slugs. He’s bored with his mother and really would have preferred teenage mutant ninja turtles or some such rather than magicians for his birthday, but he’s basically a normal boy his age. Which he is in a way, at least for his family’s being so rich and privileged. And that’s precisely the problem, isn’t it?

"You, my fine jack-sauce. Come here. Now, if you inspect your breast pocket, I think you might find a fine silk handkerchief."

"Nossir. 'Mafraidnotsir," said the guard, staring straight ahead.

Aziraphale winked desperately. "No, go on, dear boy, take a look, please. "

The guard reached a hand inside his inside pocket, looked surprised, and pulled out a handkerchief, duck-egg-blue silk, with lace edging. Aziraphale realized almost immediately that the lace had been a mistake, as it caught on the guard's holstered gun, and sent it spinning across the room to land heavily in a bowl of jelly.

The children applauded spasmodically. "Hey, not bad!" said the pony-tailed girl. Warlock had already run across the room, and grabbed the gun.

"Hands up, dogbreaths!" he shouted gleefully. The security guards were in a quandary.

Some of them fumbled for their own weapons; others started edging their way toward, or away from, the boy. The other children started complaining that they wanted guns as well, and a few of the more forward ones started trying to tug them from the guards who had been thoughtless enough to take their weapons out.

Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock.

The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork.

Aziraphale blinked.

A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden.

Aziraphale looked embarrassed.

Then a cream cake hit him in the face. It was almost five past three.

This is a child with no real concept of consequences. He and his friends (or guests, at least) aren’t precisely bad, they’re eleven and clearly haven’t spent much of those eleven years learning a thing or two about consequences. So when a gun pops out by accident, their first instinct is to go “Cool!” Warlock reaches out and grabs it; a lot of his guests try to unarm their own guards so they can have the same.

I tell you, 23 years post-Columbine, this whole scene just hits differently. The girl’s comment (forgive the slur; this is a quote) that Aziraphale was “rubbish, and probably a faggot” has a different impact too. But I’m old enough to remember the slur bit was definitely learned behavior, that while there was certainly very serious homophobia in the world, not everyone used language like that quite so casually. This is something that girl has heard from the adults in her life, she knows it’s meant to hurt, but she sees no reason not to sling it around so casually. Because for her there isn’t. She has a thought, she does it. And similarly for Warlock: he sees a gun, goes “cool!”, grabs it up, gets surprised by a bit of flying jelly, and pulls the trigger.

Today we have a word for this: affluenza. I don’t think I’d have known it if I read Good Omens back when it was published. And this was pre-Brock Turner and so many others like him, so I don’t think I would have been as attuned to how dangerous it really is. Even now, I’m more likely to view this as people being deeply damaged by the system that enables them more than being really bad people, even though the solution has to be more responsibility and consequences, not less. I pity them, up to a point at least, even as I hate the thought of them going unpunished for the harm they cause.

But just think of an eleven-year-old Brock Turner being the actual antichrist. What a bullet to have dodged! (If you’ll pardon the pun.) Thank Someone. And what a chilling realization to realize just how many of these kids grow up to have that same power to shift reality to their whims. Though arguably that’s a big part of the point.

Moving on to Adam, he really does strike me as this decent, normal kid. Not particularly good or bad, just normal like I and my friends were at eleven. And it strikes me he’s surrounded by actual individuals. Wensley, who “all that separated this voice from chartered accountancy was a matter of time.” Pepper, so attuned to sexism and fairness who we later learn was raised on a hippie commune. They bring their own bits and emphases to this normal act of play; I don’t remember that we were ever even given a name for any of Warlock’s guests. And that strikes me as important. Adam, for all his untapped power, isn’t used to thinking of himself as the only one that matters.

Aside from all that, though, there’s just great fun writing throughout this section, generally, but this is probably my favorite:

There was a thoughtful pause. The hound slunk closer, and realized that the voices were coming from a hole in the ground.

The trees in fact concealed an ancient chalk quarry, now half overgrown with thorn trees and vines. Ancient, but clearly not disused. Tracks crisscrossed it; smooth areas of slope indicated regular use by skateboards and Wall-of-Death, or at least Wall-of-Seriously-Grazed-Knee, cyclists. Old bits of dangerously frayed rope hung from some of the more accessible greenery. Here and there sheets of corrugated iron and old wooden boards were wedged in branches. A burnt-out, rusting Triumph Herald Estate was visible, half-submerged in a drift of nettles.

In one corner a tangle of wheels and corroded wire marked the site of the famous Lost Graveyard where the supermarket trolleys came to die.

If you were a child, it was paradise. The local adults called it The Pit.

If you know your Bible, you might perk up at that name. It was a kind ofmetaphor for Sheol, which most of us would connect with Hell (not 100% accurately, but also not entirely wrong either). For Adam it’s a paradise of sorts, and the weird thing is he’s not wrong. I would have loved to build forts and poke at slugs with sticks in a bit of wilderness just like this.

The bits about the dog are brilliant, too, but scattered about and hard to quote to give you the full effect. You should really read them if you have the book, though. They definitely left me smiling. Though I’m not 100% at ease. A Hound is still a Hound, after all, even if he now answers to Dog.

#good omens #book omens #marta rereads good omens

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titleknown · 10 months

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...I will say, I've been reading over the blogs and reblogs of @vacuouslyfalse and @tanadrin talking about how leftist movements tend to use more-radical-than-thou rhetoric in a way that leads to do-nothing-ism and becoming a sideshow with no way to recruit/create coalitions/put policy into action, and also leading to a tendency to be distressingly non-specific/naiive in terms of actual plans, and...

...Well A) It helped me realize how much a lot of the way those sorts of posters they're talking about trigger my anxiety is me filling in the blanks with the way I've been treated with contempt/neglect and B) I generally do feel the way they feel about the way that radicalism often leads to a feeling of nothing getting done and "Don't Forget, You're Here Forever" and "For Their Lives To Get Better, Yours Will Have To Get Worse," at least on an emotional, gut level

But C) think that while I agree that it's A Problem, I think they ignore why it is movements; and in particular a lot of the most marginalized groups in those movements; lean on that sort of isolating viewpoint.

Like, to give an example there's a specific paper talking about it far more coherently than "Decolonization Is Not A Metaphor" that I'll link in the notes, but reason they give for not wanting to do politics of reconciliation/coalition rather than constant antagonism/provoking discomfort is that; in their view; that means assimilation into the settler state, and with it elimination.

Now, I think vacuouslyfalse makes a decent point when they say they don't really have the numbers or power to pull off that sort of oppositional "No compromise until the US state is abolished" stance, and "constant agonism with no possibility of reconciliation" as a means of engagement like they propose has some... bad implications with regards to workability, from what even my smoothbrain can tell, but it's interesting that that fear of the prospect of elimination-through-assimilation is what leads to that perspective, and no appeal to practicality I see ever addresses that.

Which leads to my point that I think a lot of the reason that marginalized leftists adopt that sort of radical anti-collaboration/anti-systemic-engagement rhetoric really kinda is the Hedgehog's Dilemma, in that at its core, it's about the fear of being thrown under the bus by the movement by virtue of being crowded out or shoved into a paradigm fundamentally hostile to your goals.

And it's not like that fear is entirely abstract either, from what I can see it comes heavily from experience, experiences that themselves often get buried when we wonkishly focus on the unviability of their tactics/stances!

One of the most persistent anti-industrial-civilization people on here's a Gullah-Gechee person who saw their home constantly under threat by "development," and I wouldn't say that it's too far to think their radicalism comes from the fear that, under other forms of socialism, their home too would be under that same chopping block for "progress"

Or, to quote a friend's experences (with permission):

i was one of the lead organizers on a (failed) global environmental strike years ago and the reason we failed was letting liberals, well, be liberals about a strike. i have lost all hope and respect for these people and think energy would be best spent elsewhere for the most part yeah ultimately [the desire for apoliticality] was the big one [that derailed us]. i was fighting tooth and nail constantly for our stances to have even the tiniest amount of bite, and it was pushback everytime. i had to seriously argue in favor of the IWW's rules of no bosses, no cops, no landlords! for a STRIKE it was a split amongst lead organizers between people like me who were explicitly leftist and liberals. and there was a refusal to acknowledge liberals dont know how to strike and appealing to them isnt going to work like i said.. i spent way more time trying to wrangle the discord or argue with people than actually organizing im definitely glad i did it; i learned a lot about organizing and it strongly reaffirmed in me that "dont try to make your radical action group appeal to liberals" is the end-all be-all rule for organizing and just drama. always drama. a big deal was that until i became an international organizer, of the like.. 9? that there were? One Person was not white. for a global movement! i pushed hard for talk about things like environmental racism and such and got a ton of pushback for it as well it was just such a hugely broad political spectrum, and since nobody wanted to pull it in any one direction on that front.. it just sputtered out the dutch group was one we consistently had major problems w because a handful of the rly active folks there couldnt stop saying weirdly racist stuff including a beloved message i still have screenshot somewhere of "i didnt see a black person until a year ago" from somebody who was like, 25 Which like im sure was true but the context was us going "can you stop being racist please"

Said friend said "read Settlers" to me in a different discussion, so I think that probably sums up how that experience shaped him.

The point I'm trying to get at is, if we're to chide the ways radicalism and the language thereof can become isolationist/anti-solution-ist, the burden of proof is on us to demonstrate to those marginalized people how being more diplomatic/wonkish isn't going to get them screwed.

Like, as much as I hate the do-nothing malaise and more-radical-than-thou infighting I keep seeing, I feel like these discussions on how that derails leftism are going to go nowhere if they ignore the reasons why people adopt these behaviors and why it seems to be the most vulnerable/hurt that do so!

It can't just be on them to be more friendly to neglected tactics, it has to be on us to show we'll have their back against the ways they've been screwed in the name of easy pseudo-victories and ignoring tough questions!

As for how to do that... TBH I think that's its own dialectic, but one a lone person isn't equipped to do, feel free to chat about it in the replies!

#leftism #rambling #shut up titleknown

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rodeoromeo · 11 months

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This might sound mean but in all honesty it's embarrassing for a lot of Beatles fans how ignorant they are of George and the wider world of rock music. It's so obvious how many of them have just not bothered to read anything beyond clickbait when it comes to him and then they are shocked that everything they see him say sounds negative and irrational. No shit, maybe consider you don't have the full story and that the article titled "Here's why George Harrison despised Paul McCartney" isn't where you should be getting your info.

I don't even consider George to be overly bitter. So what if he threw a few digs out there? Do Beatles fans have any idea what the relationships between most band members are like? How many of them openly despise each other to the point where they couldn't be in the same room together? If Beatles fans whined about George to fans of bands like Pink Floyd, Cream, The Police, Oasis, etc. they'd laugh in their faces.

"Wait, you're telling me your guy was annoyed but basically let John and Paul do whatever they wanted and didn't say anything until the band broke up? He was still giving them credit for his career, wouldn't allow other people to insult them, and was on friendly terms with them? Then when he was dying had an incredibly touching ending with the guy he'd been rivaling with? And you haven't shut up about this for like 50 years?"

"Yeah but you see the tone he was using in Get Back? What a nasty character."

"My faves literally tried to murder each other but go off."

honestly people focus really hard on the few quotes of George's that tend to get pulled out in which he's more critical of Paul and of the whole Beatles experience. and I want to clarify once more that this isn't about Paul or what he has said- it really isn't- it's the way that people react to George and who he was as a person that is frustrating. I honestly think he was a little unfairly portrayed and framed in Get Back but that's another discussion.

people tend to for some reason ignore the great amount of love and respect that George had for John, Paul and Ringo, and instead seem to only be informed on the period of time where he wanted to leave the band and the way he felt immediately following that. the truth is ALL of the guys had their own issues with each other - the lawsuits, the public beefs... but you're right, its NOTHING compared to what a lot of other band members go through.

also, if people were familiar with George's music they would know that he wrote a LOT about his struggles with forgiveness and his lost connections- always reaching for clarity and unity and peace between himself and these people in his life.

it is just a lack of awareness of George and who he really was OUTSIDE of the beatles. it's hard for me to understand because I have spent SO much time watching his interviews, reading his words, listening to his discography.... in complete honesty to learn george all you need to do is listen to his music.

honestly, George responded to this best himself- "the problem with talking is that the more you say the more you bury yourself. it's very difficult to express what you feel in your heart. in a song though, because you have the addition of the music and the value of sound, it touches places that other things don't touch, and it can stir you from a much deeper, subtle level. I try to do my music about what my experiences are" X

#george harrison #the beatles #op #b talks

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taestefully-in-luv · 10 months

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Okay, our time chapter 2, analysis, go!:

Again, with the tension between JK and Misuk, makes a lot more sense, knowing what we know.

This is the freshest thing in my mind lol forgive me for going out of order but the drinking. Idk how I didn’t put it together sooner! All the empty (and full) beer bottles, soju bottles, the glass of vodka next to a shot bottle. All subtle hints to how he’s living. We don’t know what he’s doing when he isn’t with Y/N, so the chances of him going home and then drinking there is pretty high, I think.

Y/N’s mom also mentions how things are easier to get through when you’re, and I quote, “[…] together.” I think that’s a definite hint to them wanting Y/N and Jungkook back together. They obviously are already aware of the divorce at this point, so I think it was a subtle hint to OC that she needs to (should?) stay with Jungkook.

The scene where OC calls JK “Ribbit”! I believe he said something along the lines of, “I just really fucking missed you”, and though I’m sure he was talking about the three months Y/N was in a coma, I think it’s safe to say that he was 100% also talking about the time they spent apart after the divorce. Obviously, at this point it time, both us readers and Y/N are too in the dark about everything to look at anything deeper than just surface level, so this was a really neat way to include some foreshadowing without being super in your face with it.

I also don’t think I really have to mention the physical affection again, but I will, anyway. Jungkook pulling away during the kitchen-shoulder-massage scene makes a lot more sense now, since we know he was obviously like “oh shit I’ve gotten too comfortably too quickly fuck”, and then (effectively) trying to deflect by hugging OC again thereafter. The amount of sexual tension during their little “sleep over” scene, where they talk about the wedding, was literally killing me. The image about JK spreading his ⚪️⚪️⚪️ all over her killed me the first time and it killed me again this time lmfao.

Also, Jungkook’s jealousy (bc that’s obviously what it is, in hindsight) makes more sense now, too. When she brings up the guy she bumped into at the market, and insinuates that she might’ve been sleeping with him (and possibly others as well), Jungkook changes the conversation. Also mentioning how he doesn’t wanna talk about “[their]” past sex lives— because they were both, as Y/N puts it, involved with one another at some point as well.

I think that’s everything for this chapter 😭✋🏻

Lmk if I missed anything? Or just lmk how well I did?

Still obsessed with your writing </3

🤍🤍🤍

chapter 2:

1. true…..but do we know everything? 👀

2. oh yes, our introduction to jungkooks apartment is the first huge sign that something is off with him! it’s supposed to represent everything he’s not (according to yn) but in ch 6 when we get his pov it gets talked about how this is his new normal and this is who he knows himself as now :/

3. it does seem like yn’s parents think that the best thing for yn and jk is to be together but they probably also don’t know everything. or maybe they do 👀 but we will see

4. exactly! in fact, yn even makes the connection that he was referring to the three months she was in the coma. because obviously for her, there’s no other reason for him to miss her that much

5. oh yes that little intrusive thought of hers was probably my own intrusive thought bc i added that detail in without thinking about it ahhahaha but it felt fitting so i kept it

6. he DEFINITELY got uncomfortable, yes. it’s one thing to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons but it sucked extra bad for him that he couldn’t give her a solid explanation for why he didn’t wanna hear about her possible sex life after him 🤷‍♀️ so changing the conversation is the the better route

it sounds like you got all the major stuff! it’s been a while so i can’t remember everything either but i’m sure you’ll have picked out more things as the chapters go 🥰

thank you for doing this btw 🥺 i’m having fun~

#our time

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mattyalston · 2 years

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nothing left so let’s call it an accident // Matty (read more for literally an essay of commentary, i warned you this was my kind of task)

I’ll Come Crashing / A Giant Dog: Mama always told me I should have a sense of pride/Daddy always told me I should be a straight up guy

Mom and Dad had such pride in themselves and what they’d built - Matty’s afraid his acting out’s, or even just not being good enough, going to burn the whole thing down around him and leave him with ashes and dust as a legacy. There’s also a certain irony in the pull quote given that these two consistently and unapologetically allied themselves to Alexei.

The Road / Hurts: that roaring engine sings your hallelujah

Drifting in and out of consciousness on the back of a patrol truck, once they’ve found him in the grass and the adrenaline’s running out. His memories cut off after being found - the last thing he remembers is dragging himself back towards a known patrol route and lying in the grass in case there were any more of them around. His survival was very much not a foregone conclusion.

Don’t Cry / Bugzy Malone & Dermot Kennedy: no crying, I’m a soldier/and I’m holding my composure

Oh, how he wishes he was - and the Dermot Kennedy parts of the song are a lot more realistic. He feels a substantial amount of pressure to hold the pain of loss inwardly - that it’s part of being the good soldier he was raised to be - and especially the ruthless enforcer archetype laid out before him. He can’t live up to the family legacy if he looks weak and emotional.

Oceans / Twin Atlantic: I’m making ends meet fixing up cars/yeah it’s the only thing keeping my mind awake

The early aftermath of the Incident. He’s found a task that he can do that keeps his mind occupied, but he’s also just existing and feels obliged to do it - he doesn’t want to still be here but is afraid of how it’s going to end for him. He’s just going through the motions of daily life in Idaho Falls.

Papaoutai / Stromae: Will we be hated?/Will we be admired?

The experience of being raised in Idaho Falls, an anthem to daddy issues. For Matty in particular, he spent most of his 20s coming to understand he’d led a very charmed life, but never quite managed to question his father’s role in generating said inequalities - and now there’s a serious risk he’ll fall back into uncritically replicating that ideology because how could he possibly be anything other than an Enforcer? He thinks he owes his dad everything, literally everything, because of the way he rescued him.

Pray For Me / The Weeknd & Kendrick Lamar: if i gotta be sacrificed for the greater good that’s what it gotta be

A child of the revolution against FEDRA, this is an expression of Matty’s loyalties and the politics of Idaho Falls. He was taught to understand this community as having built itself on ending oppression and defending its people - and that being a good thing to die for. Part of the awfulness of his grief is that he doesn’t have the comfort that it meant something in this framework - they weren’t out fighting for their community against people who want to destroy it, they were out on a routine scoping exercise to expand its territory and find more resources.

Taro / Alt - J: do not spray into eyes/i have sprayed you into my eyes

Matty knows how much it hurts to lose everything and how utterly possible - maybe even probable - it is in this world. He still hasn’t shut himself off. He cares about Daiyu, Ophelia, Eva even though they could disappear forever too. He even shows Wendy time and care even though he knows she won’t make it. Also, this song is about an artist who’s dying in a war and is about to be reunited with his long-dead-fellow-artist-lover who met a similar end. Make of that what you will.

I Remember / Damien Rice: to remove the stain of my love/paper maché

This one is more about the vibe - shifting from soft memories to discordantly, viscerally trying to make sense of them - memories that need the blood wrung out of them - and the feral desire to cling to them, to know, either way.

You Are The Devil / Twin Atlantic: there’s nothing left so let’s call it an accident/got no direction I’m not taking the ambulance

The playlist namer - bearing the warrior’s mantle, pushing down his big heart in order to carry a legacy built on deceit and blood and pain because that’s what’s before and behind - that’s all there is, and there’s nothing else he could possibly do with his life.

Atlantis / Seafret:

maybe i’m not built for love/if I knew that I could reach you I would go

Except, except, except... there is - or there was - love, too. He has to believe there’s something, the possibility of being reunited - because if everything’s just gone forever, he can’t handle that. It’s superstition, it’s sentiment - but he needs it. There’s faith and love as well as loyalty and legacy.

All I Want / Kodaline: cause you bring out the best of me/a part of me I’d never seen

Also, he’s still struggling to admit to himself that he was irrevocably in love and it’s the things that he didn’t say that get him. He doesn’t have a strong moral compass of his own. There’s this fear that everything good and kind about him’s gone with the beautiful soul that kept him right. He wishes he’d done better by Pedro, and he can’t fix that - at least not until he meets his own end.

So Far / Ólafur Arnalds & Arnór Dan: am I asking for too much?

One of the many tragedies of Matty is that he has learned the hard way that he should speak up about his feelings before it’s too late, but still can’t follow through on the lesson. Trying to seem like a good, valuable warrior who should be let back into the inner fold has him pushing down the desperate desire for his friends to see him, understand him - show him there is a way through all of this. He wants to scream from the rooftops I love you and I need you all to be safe and I need you stay with me - but he can’t express it, so he loves silently and desperately instead.

Peacemaker / Green Day: you thought I was a write off/you better think again Now we’re onto rage - a Matty who needs to take everything out on the world and prove himself. A man who believes he’d take out whole hordes of infected and anyone who threatened their community with further losses, and who’d do it violently and remorselessly. It’s a side of him that exists and which could be unleashed by circumstances. Hurt / 2WEI: what have i become/my sweetest friend? There’s also a part of Matty that thinks he could have and would have been so much better a person - who wants to dream of a life that isn’t just ruling over the ashes of a collapsed world. A warmer, kinder, life that he can’t really ever have now that everything’s been torn from him - but that other people can enjoy.

Black Eyes / Radical Face: and the birds up there mock me and the scenery’s turned wicked/and your name is trapped beneath my tongue He will have to make choices about his future at some point. His future, and the future of his community, without his guiding star by his side. He can only rely on himself. It’s also a Matty who’s making his debut at Fight Club and - if he’s honest - finds it a little too easy to switch off and do what needs to be done to win, without anyone telling him that he can stop now (or that he shouldn’t have started to begin with.) And The World Was Gone / Snow Ghosts: i wish you’d felt me falling/i wish you’d watched over me His world has just changed forever, and all he can do is put one foot in front of the other to get closer to base. He has to continue existing, but everything he’s ever relied upon suddenly isn’t there. Everything’s slow and fast - narrow and all-consuming - at the same time. Fortune 500 / Everything Everything: i don’t want this/i never spoke up enough/think of the people that i’m doing it for Maybe one day he gets what he thinks he wants. Gets back onto the big jobs, is given a chance to prove himself. He’s good at it, but it doesn’t feel like it should do. He doesn’t feel pride or accomplishment or even any less empty. It just feels fundamentally fucking wrong. Ghost Towns / Radical Face: there’s no coming home/with a name like mine But even if he somehow chose a different path - one that perhaps led him away from Idaho Falls completely - that could lead to something better and safer, his people would still be on that land in a distant graveyard. How would he ever fit in anywhere else, carrying a memory of a place he wouldn’t ever be able to go back to? He’ll live and die in this town, that’s one of the few things he’s sure of. Guapa / The Twang: for it’s me they call the savage/but I would never do/the things that they have done There’s also the factionalist tribalism of growing up as an Enforcer’s child - an Enforcer who helped bring down FEDRA - in Idaho Falls. Nobody in this world is covered in glory, everyone’s a second away from committing terrible crimes against others because they’re not their people - but anyone can tell themselves that they didn’t start it. This is how Timmy and Kiera would have done things - they came for us, so we’ll revisit their horrors on them tenfold and they won’t dare do it again. Matty’s very much at risk of being dragged into this ongoing cycle of violence. In The Woods Somewhere / Hozier: my dearest love, I’m not done yet/How many years/I know I’ll bear There’s still something in Matty other than adrenaline and instinct that kept him alive. He still has a will to survive in him somewhere, even though he yells at Eva for bringing him back. He could’ve let himself be torn apart by Infected too, could have bled out in the grass or given into infected wounds, but he’s still here and the belief people had in him can’t just be let to disappear. The memory of them only lives on in him, too, and he has to keep that going. Good Grief / Bastille: whistling the melody/crystallising clear as day/oh i can picture you so easily

One day, Matty will be out patrolling and will start whistling loudly and tunelessly, and his partner will ask him what the hell he’s doing - and he’ll say Pedro taught him it deters bears. He’ll have a small smile on his face, and a sense of closeness to absent family, and he’ll be starting to get better.

Lydia / Highly Suspect: at your worst, you’re still the best/but at my best, I am the worst Matty talks a good game, is a fun guy, but it was only Tracy’s influence and success in raising a decent, kind son that gave him a morally upstanding influence in the world. He’s fundamentally not the good guy, and he knows that. He can try to be better because it’s what Pedro would have done, but that’s yet another example of being torn between the respect for Alexei instilled in him as a child and his growing understanding of the reality of what this regime is and does. Software Greatman / Everything Everything: I don’t know how to get over this thing, ‘cause it’s always there

Everything in his world reminds him of something that isn’t in it anymore. The world doesn’t work like that now, but he keeps looking for advice that isn’t coming, making cups of tea nobody will drink. He’s also - he’ll never admit this - scared again. Everyone’s just accepted that Infected monsters roam around as a fact of life, and they’re not afraid because they think they can control the risk. He’s re-experiencing the primal fear of knowing that actually, no, you don’t have the upper hand. Who Am I Living For? / Katy Perry: who am I living for?/I can see the writing on the wall He’s not oblivious, as much as he’d like to be. He can see rising dissent, knows that the two halves of his family would be at loggerheads over it if they were still here. He doesn’t know what decision he should make. He’d just be trying to mediate between them, begging them not to fight each other - and, fuck, Pedro’d be down the Fight Club all the time so he’d just be quietly patching up bruises and wounds. He can’t go to Mom for advice about navigating the tensions or to Dad for a plan of action. He just has to figure it out himself. A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall / Laura Marling: and what will you do, my blue-eyed son?and what will you do, my darling young one? This is from Matty’s biological mother’s perspective. She doesn’t know what happened to her boy - thinks he’d probably ended up a FEDRA soldier - and wonders what he’s done and seen. She’d love him all the same, she’s decided, no matter what. Whether he ever comes through Jackson or not. Ghosts / Muse: I’d set things straight/and I believe that you would love and forgive me He will eventually get to a space where he can admit he was in love and missed the boat on it without breaking down completely, although will likely do it through making an oblique reference and then refusing to elaborate any further, but I digress - this is about imagining explaining his decisions to a ghost and hoping he’d be met with understanding as to why he chose to do certain things.

#;tasks #//i am done with tumblr formatting oh my god

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kimyoonmiauthor · 2 years

Text

Abortion and Adoption and PoC Impacts.

‘cause newspapers prefer to pay attention to Adopters, not adoptees, and look at white impacts over PoC impacts (Though everyone knows PoCs are most affected) and ignore the whole of adoption history. And pay white writers to talk to PoCs about their impacts rather than hire a PoC writer. Fine whatever. Hire the least qualified with the least amount of impact. So...

There is a twitter thread, but in order to be fair to the person and not do the twitter thing of crying and then ignoring the lead in, and then acting looking for approval from my group, and then trying to crucify the person for making a single misstep, I’m going to start it from the beginning and break it down. Since I’m using a tumblr post to be reasonable... let me do a bit of introduction here: I’ve worked in minor Adoptee right advocacy here and there and am generally quietly connected to the community. I have a degree in Anthropology I concentrated in Systems such as socio-economics, race, disability, etc. I have spent time talking to foster parents, Former Foster Youth, Birth parents, adoptees of different kinds and of course Adoptive Parents. I also have the history of adoption in my head with references to history over time, because I needed people to see that their beliefs about adoption was often rooted in a specific history they were’t aware of. This is not a term paper, so I’ve cut the references for the sake of brevity, but I can pull them if challenged. So let’s get into the postings.

Per the usual, I’m not encouraging anyone to attack the individual in question *at all* I’m very against this. The question is to talk about ideas in long form.

I would copy-paste the text, but it seems they did a general ban on everyone. Kinda odd for a journalist... but I’ll continue on since I made no malicious moves against her nor replied directly to her in any capacity. I took screenshots, though, of the posts before the general ban, so I’ll quote lines, retyped for that.

Edit: They replied But I’m cutting the name so it’s harder to hunt them.

To be fair, posting the general context.

“It is about babies, but it's not about keeping those babies with their mothers. It's about giving those babies to evangelical Christian mothers.“

I generally agree with this. It’s more like latent genocide per the UN if one were to put it into more direct, but harsher words. See Indigenous American adoption in Canada and US.

Person continues with Amy Coney Barrett. Fair point. No adoptees like Amy Coney Barett.

I disagree that the core of many Republican policies are harvesting babies for Christian families.

Republicans, like liberals, are varied, and after talking to people who are anti-abortion, etc they come in shades. Because advocacy rule I put up is that the enemy is is not a dragon, and to stop making it a dragon.

Baby-collecting is why Reublicans put immigrant children in cages.

Half true. Again, I talked to the opposing side on this and got into a (friendly) debate about it--the reasons are varied.

One person who was an immigrant said he thought it was OK, because they were crossing illegally. I did not try to defeat him, but challenged him, and asked him why. (Too long for this)

Another person was generally against immigrants. I asked about Migrant workers and berries, etc and pointed to nuances. I pointed also to US people being Migrant workers. They expressed anti-black views, despite being a PoC themselves.

But generally, when I challenged them, they were ALL against the idea of using the children for adoption, and were mixed about the separation part. Oddly the person *most* for punishing the children for the action of their parents was a South American immigrant (Yes, I do know his previous country, but protect your sources).

Activism means listening to the opposing side. You don’t have to agree to understand. Making them not a one-headed dragon to defeat makes the problem easier to break apart.

“This is the thing. Evangelicals want more babies.

They were willing to steal those babies from immigrant mothers at the border, but then Trump lost power and that supply of stolen children ended.”

It was one Justice’s opinion--Alito--from the Supreme court, to be fair. (And notice I’m arguing for nuances.) Trump tried and failed, per the Washington Post to use the supply of children for Christians, but was exposed and had to stop halfway through.

Half-truth.

[Generally more about making Republicans and Evangelicals into a one-headed monster to attack like George and the Dragon.]

Yeah... except that not all Republicans are Evangelicals or even Christian. In order to attack this problem the right move isn’t to make them one headed beast. The right way is to collect their opinions, find out the root causes, personal and systemic, and then challenge them bit by bit. Nuance isn’t Twitter’s forte... I get that.

“I think this should be clear but: Adoption itself is not bad.

It must--MUST be approached ethically and with extraordinary care or the child and birth mother as well as the adopting families.

And the focus should be on finding homes for all children, not just babies.”

This is where it gets dicey. To be fair, prior and after this, she did include adoptee voices along the way and adjust.

Adoption in of itself is a problem. The Adoption Industry complex has always been symptoms of a society that will not take care of itself. This dates back to the Palo Alto Indians and the Spanish in California. That was the symptoms of sexism, racism, and Christian conversion in one go. The first forced adoptions I can find on record start here.

Adoption always absorbs the ills of society that society doesn’t want to handle. It’s the garbage/industrial waste dump, tried to be made pretty with urban housing on top of it. Adoption and Foster care are--as I’ve said many times--the Band-aids on the broken bones of society. (About 99.98% of the time.)

It was made this way by Victorian England, though there were systems in the past that had adoption and clearly genocide, like the Palo Alto Indian situation, but it absorbed the hatred of the poor, racism, and sexism mostly from this era while industrializing it. (This isn’t hard to find resources for.) Industrial interfamily plenary adoption is never going to be clean. This is a fact that adoptees know well. There *are* cases where adoption, in general, is ethical, such as with say Yapese adopting adults so their system of land ownership works. But notice, that’s consenting adults, and has nothing to do with Industrial interfamily plenary adoption.

Intrafamily adoption is sticky in places, but this isn’t the type of adoption on the table at the moment.

The majority of adoptions taking place are from poor and usually PoC families, with blacks at the top of the separation pile within the US (Since we’re talking US). Black children in the system are also the least likely to be adopted (Both facts according to MEPA’s report).

Adoption, in general, does cause trauma for the adoptee in question, even in intrafamily adoption cases. The highest cases of mood and learning disabilities with adoptees is on the transracially adopted PoCs. (Plenty of studies and reports about this.) International adoption was shown, independently of race to also make this slightly higher.

As an adoptee adopted older myself, I think it’s fairer to actually want and need to think carefully and put the ducks in a row. I *get* from talking to and listening to other adoptees that it’s not always tidy. You need to fix all the ills of society in order for adoption to stop being a dumping ground.

But the order should be:

- support communities to keep their children and educate them after disasters about adoption scams. - support birth nuclear family. - support the extended birth family. - support governments to keep children so they stay in the country. - If that’s been exhausted to every ability, then look at international adoption.

The top reason, as I said, is poverty. So one should be focusing on how to make the intersection of poor and PoC not a crime. One is invisiblity, and the other is visibility.

The problem is that often adoption brings money to countries and there are disaster chasers who are asking, “What is in it for me?”

Less than about 0.01% of adoption is done where a mother looks for adoptive parents because they are older, have a bunch of children, didn’t want an abortion, and doesn’t want to “raise this one.” Those people also exist, BUT and strong BUT the separation will still cause problems for the child in question and still put them at risk of mood disorders and learning disabilities.

BTW, the reason the “supply” slowed down, is because generally the birth rate worldwide is falling as more and more countries industrialize and move towards educating the populations in question, particularly women. (Covered in my Cultural Geography class). Korea, which used to have one of the highest birth rates, after industrialization fell to one of the lowest birthrates worldwide. Also the general cost to have and keep children with a rise in people being aware that human population is really high, has more and more people opting out in general. Governments aren’t doing a lot to make raising children easier, but countries like Russia, Korea, China, Japan, US, are mostly legislating in other directions, making the birth rate drop further. And generally, on a national level, children are considered the most precious commodity for a society to continue to function. But then I’m getting into Cultural Geography...

Making this shorter, but nuances should matter. Listening will move people forwards. And people have to realize adoption should not be societies’ dumping ground.

#adoption #abortion #nuance #social justice

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devilsurvivor-2-recordbreaker · 11 months

Text

Do not read (long)

I'm just thinking about my junior year and it was just terrible for the shortest explanation.

In greater detail it wasn't the worst but it still sucked, that part is true. Like half of my classes for the first half of the school year just felt awful to be in. But atleast half of those classes got better with time and did become enjoyable. Other half still sucked ass.

I wanna say my biggest pain in the ass's I had all year were my literature and global perspectives class. The first because it felt like my teacher was pulling fucking mind games to mess with me plus had THE COP FLAG. I could taste the patriotism in the room. No amount of blindly picked quotes could deny it.

The other, global perspectives, was a absolute hell in the second quarter. Like it was entirely dedicated to these massive projects atleast I wasn't prepared for. Like the first semester was just spent lollygagging. We barely did anything and then suddenly it's 'your going to have to surrender your entire life to these assignments for the next six months l, have fun :)'. And it made me want to hust drop out. Like legit I wanted to just drop my entire career because working on those projects were hell. I felt like I was experiencing first hand what those development horror stories were like. Bad team management and all. Like it was so bad that one of the students I worked with refused to work with me afterwards when we had to do a tiny two person assignment after all was over.

That class just drained all the energy I had. Straight vamperic effect on my mental well being. Like knowing I would have to go to that class made me irritated and annoyed. I've never have had a class so swiftly have my opinion on it turn on its head so suddenly.

Now that I've survived it I just feel entirely out of it. I felt no reward no release that it was over. I just felt like I was going home, nothings changed. Nothing conquered or earned. Just routines and cycles repeating.

I don't say it much on here because I very much want to separate my personal life from here but in my irl friend group the seniors left and since then the groups has just been wayning. They were the glue of the group. And I thought maybe I could be the glue that kept us together but I just felt like it wasn't ment to last and accepted that the friendship I had made in this group wouldn't last past this year. So I spent the last full day together at our usual lunch table alone.

Idk I don't mean to get sappy but these people basically were what were holding me together. I never have had many friends in my short life and I struggle to make them, let alone maintain them. I didn't have friends for the most part. I knew people and I would hang out with them but I'm not sure I would call our time together as a friendship. It was much more mutual and acquaintance like. Plus for another multitude of reasons it was a real struggle. So becoming apart of this friend group was one of the best things to happen to me in a long time.

But then it ends and I feel like reset to zero. Like it meant nothing even if it meant the world to me. I blame myself partially. I never extend a hand first expecting these friends to be the first to open the possibility for communication or a relationship outside of school. I feel like I didn't make them care enough about me to warrant them wanting to do that. So just seeing them so easily move on feels like a brick to the face. The harsh reality that whatever friendship I thought I had with these people was no as strong as it was in reality.

And that just hurts. I have difficulty trying to gage if I am friends with people or just that, acquaintances. The person you meet in this place, say your his and hellos and move on. Maybe think about me once in a while or get reminded of me when something related to me corpses your mind.

Which is why I fear sometimes that it's pointless to try and make friends because it'll only end in me crying over people who just don't feel the same way. Again, I feel like I'm to blame for these failed relations.

Worst part is that I feel like they can move on because they have people of their own. Like they can move on with their life and go to their friends. But I can't. I don't have any other friends. I don't mean to discount my online fiends, but I feel its important to have real life friends. (I feel like I should qlarify that the online friends I have made have absolutely helped me, that is undeniable.)

It's why I feel like I've returned to square one. I've revert to this base state of being where I feel alone. And I fear with my life at times that this cycle will just repeat. That feeling got really bad this year because I knew that the seniors would be leaving soon and I wanted to make the most of it while it lasted. But it wasn't enough. It almost feels like it was predestined. Maybe because I knew I made the mistake to think that they make the first move when they were just fine sticking to the equivalent to office cooler conversations.

And then there I am. Feeling dead on the bus ride back on the last day of school year, having survived, but feeling defeated.

I just had to work through some things here.

I feel obligated to thank all the people I've met here because I absolutely would have not survived if not for all of you. Too many to thank so to all of my mutuals and friends here from the bottom of my heart, thanks for being a friend.

#vent

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treeremovalpensacola · 1 year

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How one LCO uses Spraye to maximize route density

If you're in the Pensacola area, then you have probably already experienced the need for having to remove a tree or stump or getting your tree's trimmed. The cost of tree removal varies depending on a few factors, such as: - The type of tree that needs to be removed - The size of the tree - The location of the tree - The condition of the tree Pensacola Tree Removal offers competitive pricing for our tree removal services. For a full list of services Tree removal services visit https://treeservicespensacola.com/tree-removal-pensacola/ for a fast, friendly and reliable quote that you can count on. This will help not only beautify your property but also is the safest way to do it. Photo: Spraye Jim Beveridge, owner of Yards Done Right in Westlake, Ohio, started using Spraye software to schedule his routes as a beta tester. A fellow lawn care operator (LCO) developed the software. Beveridge runs a two-person crew with his wife, Judy. Yards Done Right is a primarily residential company that does lawn fertilization, weed control, organic topdressing and tree and shrub services. Beveridge shares with LM how he uses Spraye, and the advantages route density offers his business. “For a small- to medium-sized business, Spraye has an amazing array of features it offers at an affordable price,” he says. The base subscription costs $90 a month. Route density is a critical part of Beveridge’s operation because it equates to saving time and fuel. “It means a lot to us because I can fly through a dense route versus driving 20 minutes between houses. So, route density basically is everything to us,” he says. “That’s what we try to aim for when we do marketing.” Beveridge says most LCOs’ spray rigs can hold only so much liquid, and using Spraye helps him maximize the amount of square feet he treats in a day without going over that threshold. “When I pick the route out, (Spraye) automatically shows me how many square feet I picked for that day,” he says. “And if I have a few too many (square feet), I can put a couple (jobs) back in the cart and not do those till another day.” Maximizing by city Jim Beveridge Beveridge lives in one of greater Cleveland’s western suburbs. He organizes his routes by suburb to maximize the time spent in one area. “We can pick a group in Avon that has 23 houses that are basically a mile apart, but it’s a 20-minute drive to get out to the houses, but once you’re out there, you go bing, bang, boom and you’re done.” Beveridge says he also likes that Spraye emails customers twice: once when he schedules the visit — about a week out — and then again 24 hours in advance so the client can clear the yard. Adding and skipping routes Spraye offers several options if a client needs to reschedule a service. “If you pull up and Mrs. Smith said, ‘I’m having a party in 20 minutes with 40 kids coming over, you can’t do my lawn today’ … you could skip it, you could move it to a different day automatically or you can just put it back in the unassigned services queue,” Beveridge says. “And then the software will then recalibrate and figure out the next day that it’s in the vicinity and would make sense route-wise.” Adding clients is easy, he says. Once he adds a client with a specific spray program — six applications or so — the client goes into the Spraye system as an unassigned service organized by city. “We tag all the cities where all our customers are, so we can say our next day is going to be in Rocky River (for example),” Beveridge says. “We look up all the customers in Rocky River we’re going to do and, ‘Oh, there’s Mrs. Smith. We had to cancel her yard last week; let’s do her yard this week.’” The post How one LCO uses Spraye to maximize route density appeared first on Landscape Management.

#Pensacola Tree Removal Feed 2

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themoderndana · 2 years

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Washington DC

This week I spent six wonderful days in the seat of the empire, Washington DC. I wish to share some highlights here before I go back to "real" life and they are forgotten.

I arrived last Thursday morning after a night spent in Toronto Pearson, curled up on a leather loveseat, trying to sleep. Actually this was the most awesome option as most people where slumped over in chairs, curled up on the floor or on air vents. The leather couches were hidden behind some partitions. I got about two and a half hours of shuteye before 4AM local time when I decided to face airport security and get to my gate for my 715AM flight. It took grim resolve, but I got through, got Starbucks and sat at the obnoxiously overstimulating gate for an hour before my flight (it's all restaurant seating with iPads at every station, and top 40 playing loudly.) After the small amount of sleep it was all I could do to show up on time without blowing up at the inanity of airport rules etc.

I took the above picture after de-planing to applause (a bunch of veterans or astronauts were behind me) and a children's choir to welcome the vets (or astronauts). Then I walked through the impossibly small airport to the fresh air and sunshine outdoors. I was feeling excited and overwhelmed on the verge of tears (this happens often of late): I was really in another country and really getting ready for the vacation I was really looking forward to. Shortly thereafter, Stan's banana yellow Acura pulled up, I got in and we drove away.

Last time I saw my friend Stan was probably in 2014 when he visited before I started my last year of law school. We met through campus radio - I think when I went to U of C the first time in 2008-2010 - and have been friends for around 12 or 14 years. In fact, I knew Stan when CJSW was still in the basement at Mac Hall, and that's a long time ago. There is no one like him, which may be why we have remained friends so long. This trip was my last chance to see him in DC before he moves to Michigan, MN, a city of 2500 people with a Pomme de Terre Park which is a fancy way of saying "Potato Park."

Stan at tacos on Sunday.

The first day in DC was a day on bikes. We rode through Howard University, got blackberries for lunch at a grocery store from a clerk named Ms. Wanda, visited Malcolm X Park (where that man delivered a speech after MLK was shot), got two flat tires, (which Stan rode home to fix while I wandered around and napped in the park) but made it downtown and managed to visit the White House and laugh about what would happen to a streaker on the WH lawn (immediate takedown, potentially by the president's own dog).

The picture isn't great but you get the idea.

After the White House lawn, we also stopped to see the Washington Monument, which has 50 flags around it for the 50 states, and changes colour halfway up due to a change in the source of the stone during the Civil War. Stan did a touristy yoga pose.

We also saw the Second World War monument which was very affecting and again almost elicited tears from me. Stan saw it as a monument to victory and I saw it as one to lives lost. I think both are right. It's very well designed with a giant column for each theatre of war (Pacific/Atlantic), and a giant fountain ringed by 50+ columns for all the states and colonies that participated for the USA.

Each column has a wreath on it and the name of the state in capital letters. That's what made me teary! There are quotes inscribed in marble all over the place and one funny one about how women's contributions to the war effort equally (making it sound like they did a lot better than expected from a bunch of... women.) We also saw the Lincoln Memorial. The memorials here are grandiose to say the least.

You would recognize the Lincoln Memorial probably from spy shows or movies (above and below).

Below half of the National Mall is visible, including the Reflecting Pool (full of ducks), all the way to the Washington Monument. On the other side it extends to the Capitol.

There is no shortage of marble and impressive buildings in this city. It's just not enough to put any organization in a boring old administrative building. Here is the Organization of American States, with a statue of Queen Isabella who sent Columbus to the Americas, out front. Controversial choice nowadays.

That evening, we grabbed Peruvian food on the way home and it was awesome. I managed to stay up until 11 then dropped into bed for a 10 hour sleep. Remarkably long day for a 4AM wakeup!

Thursday October 6th.

Dana

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baeshijima · 3 years

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𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐲/𝐧

A/N : i have nothing to say other than the fact there will be an excessive amount of twitch slang bc why tf not + just,,, heavy streamer!albedo brainrot ;-;

masterlist

AIGHT

streamer albedo

…

pog—

so before we get into him being whipped for u, let’s go over the type of strimmer mr Kreideprinz is

fun fact that’s his twitch name—

albedo would be the type to do lots of variety streams of different games, but also the occasional art one if he wants to have a chill stream with his chat !!

speaking of chat… they’re an odd mix of wholesome supporters, KAPPA + POGGERS + catJAM (bc he always has some bangers on in the bg like yes u bless our ears my guy) + KEKW + EZ Clap + his own emotes spammers, mr albedo’s very own shrimps (me, ahEm—), and ppl who just appreciate his voice + gameplay

if there’s a troll he just bans them OMEGALUL

omg he has lots of emotes (which he made in some of his art streams so his viewers could choose some) for every scenario but we’ll get into the popular ones in a bit 👁👁

he’s most definitely one of the bigger, well-known streamers but with a smaller group of friends

his discord server has,,, a lot of ppl,,, 70k+ ppl big,,, rip notifs if ur in it ;-;

he has it muted tho 🐥 like, sir, that’s ur server pay the goddamn price smh

wait i forgot to mention this but he has his webcam on when streaming

so u can bet ur chickens that when ppl come to visit his stream bc of whatever category he has on, they stay for his visuals and voice <33

his twt 🤡 mans gets 1k+ likes, rts, comments within the first 5-10 mins

omg he gets soft when he receives sm support from his community 🥺🥺

gifts so many subs when hitting milestones, chat is wholesome or just whenever really HJKSDHKL

also doesn’t swear much unless he gets played by his own game and/or someone is being incredibly annoying <//3

he also just,,, eats on stream

albedo straight up takes his webcam with him to show him cooking if his viewers ask for it

or he just orders food then and there and eats while chatting to everyone or watching youtube with his chat 🥺

nOW ONTO HIM BEING WHIPPED FOR U AS A GENSHIN STREAMER

this AR55 man 👩‍🦯

he can literally produce content from anything

from artifact farming, to spiral abyss, to running around mindlessly, to building characters he would normally never build, to him seeing how high up is considered too high to dive

and everyone eats it up bc it’s albedo <3

also !! he’s the type who includes the story quests in his streams so his reaction and thoughts on everything is just,,, there

now when u were first introduced in the prologue (yes ur one of the ogs + involved in the dvalin fight <33) he blanked and all his viewers could see was u on screen with him staring blankly in the bottom right of the screen

this man straight up saw u in a cutscene for one second and fell in love

his chat went wild omfg

he immediately made an emote for u and that’s his most popular one 😌

but i kid u not, the moment u appeared in that cutscene (one in which he will forever treasure in the crevices of his heart) was the moment he asked this exact question ;

“ so (y/n) banner when? ”

and mihoyo heard his pleas and answered with ur event banner

except it was like,, 4 months later

at least ur finally here tho :’)

now he can have his lil science-y moments with ur voicelines ;-;

yes, ur the chief alchemist but ✨ 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✨

. . .

shut up

n e who

when he saw the notification from mihoyo’s official forums that u will be a playable character in the new update — along with new characters, region, events & a domain — i shit u not he did a rt, his own tweet, an announcement on the community feature on youtube, and made constant reminders to his viewers on twitch abt how he will be a (y/n) haver no matter what

he even added future (y/n) haver in his twt display name

what a shrimp—

the 1.2 update stream 🐥 he was there waiting for it to go live with like,,, 19k viewers spamming his chat abt predictions and obv ur official release + showcase

and when i say this man fell even more in love while watching ur trailer and character showcase 🥺 he wouldn’t stop smiling or being in awe bc ur just??? so stunning???

mihoyo clearly has a favourite child and it’s u

chat was spamming ur exclusive emote like crazy oml

u can bet it was also flooded with lots of POGs and POGGERS

overall it was a very fun, chaotic stream filled with lots of (y/n) appreciation and love <33

also a very memorable stream for all his viewers bc of the side of albedo they rarely see unless ur involved

the day ur banner was to go live tho 🐥

the streams leading up to the fateful day consisted of him farming ur mats

that’s it

boss runs, local specialties, hero wits, talent books, the mats needed for ur weapon he was inevitably going to pull for (only the best for the best, afterall) and many domain runs

many painful domain runs

all of it was worth it tho bc ur worth everything :’)

an actual quote said by him—

at least he can get u and ur weapon to lvl 90 right off the bat with all the artifacts tailored for u ;-;

and get u to that point he did HJSDKJF

once ur banner dropped? immediately started wishing

2 multis in and he gets u 😣

albedo nearly cried and was the literal embodiment of head in hands

wHEN I SAY HIS CHAT BLEW TF UP AND HIS MODS JOINED IN

modCheck has left the chat

everyone’s rooting for him :’)

pulled for ur weapon and got it in 1 multi

sir give me ur luck pls and ty

but yes he nearly choked on the gASP he let out while chat screamed even more

he blanked for a bit, i won’t lie ;-;

but when he realised this was real, he immediately went to his party set up and put u in

can we all get an f in the chat for his lvl 10 tartaglia 😔💔👊

his chat usually rages at him to build him but if he’s being honest, he cba

ur vl when he put u in the party tho <333

now he’s just spent half an hour running around with u, letting u do ur idle animations (will always be grateful for mihoyo creating u like this), reading ur very limited (for now—) character story and going through ur voicelines

ur morning & about us (when he unlocks it) voiceline >>>>> his heart be running laps rn i swear

eventually he does begin to build u after much admiration on his end and at lvl 1 with lvl 20 artifacts, u already have 1.6k atk 🐥

now after he levels u and ur weapon to lvl 90, u have 2.8k atk 🐥

rip mobs <//3

he now plays u as his main dps 😌

the kit initially designed for u is meant to be more for support?? kinda like the whole ganyu or zhongli debate abt them being a dps or a support/sub dps ;-;

except ur more utility like venti or bennett

and even though the majority said at the beginning (aka, mihoyo, pretty much any other streamer and the larger part of the fanbase) that ur meant for support, he said fuck that and built u as his main dps

and i won’t lie, u do more damage than any of his characters, and ppl who co op with him

ur his pride and joy :’)

he went to take a look at ur consts to see if they were worth the rng suffering and, lo-and-behold,

they were

so now he’s using all his saved primos for u to try and get ur c6 const, along with making ur weapon r5 :’)

his chat gets a free view of him internally suffering when the gold light doesn’t come, and his external suffering when he loses the 50/50

in the end, he decided to whale for u <33

after nearly an hour, he has u to c6 and ur weapon to r5 ;-;

now all he’s been doing the whole stream is running around with u in open world, doing his daily farming, doing more domain and boss runs, exploring the new region (dragonspine) + ur story quest

he’s saving the event quest for another stream bc ✨content✨

in ur quest, he had multiple heart attacks and now has many, many screenshots <3

he now has a zoomed in pic of ur face as his twt pfp <33

okay so i also feel like he’s not all that bothered abt getting characters to friendship level 10 immediately and would rather let it happen through time

but obv ur not any other character *proceeds to debby ryan at u*

even if ur not fit for a particular domain or boss, he still puts u in the party so when collecting the blossom/rewards, u can get the friendship exp ;-;

he just wants ur name card so he can show off okay 🥺

when he lets his viewers pick out the playlist, 98% of the songs are from ur character demo theme

they just know him so well 😩

they also just wanna see the way he smiles when he hears it play but shhhhhh

now he just has his in-game avatar as u, and ur namecard too <33

also his signature is just ;

“ (y/n)’s favourite streamer ”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact albedo #genshin albedo #albedo #albedo x reader #genshin albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo x reader #albedo headcanons #albedo scenarios #albedo fluff #i will now cry bc i cant talk at him for a week #this is my parting post #streaming dreams

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amjustagirl · 2 years

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castles in the air: chapter 3

chapters: one.// two.// three.// four.// five.// six.// seven.// eight.// nine.// ten.//

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f! reader genre: uni romantic dramedy, oodles of fluff wc: warnings: none summary: kuroo is your pain in the ass classmate. nothing more, really.

Kuroo Tetsuro is a menace.

He laughs too loud, straddles the line between human and hyena in his amusement so often that you can’t go out in public without being stared at by a group of chattering obaa-chans, as if his rooster head didn’t attract enough attention anyway. He lobs insults like it’s method of self-care - be it Sato-san, who he’s termed as a self-important dickhead after one too many flubbed balls, or Daishou Suguru, who he labels a snake bastard, a nickname he mutters often after a practice match with said wing spiker’s university.

“Could you try to be a little more polite”, you point out after he spends five minutes during a precious study session grumbling about Daishou cheating yet again, or Sato flubbing a receive and blaming it on his block. It’s hypocritical of you, you know - considering you have your own choice of insults for him, but it’s the principle of things.

“I highly doubt your ears are too tender for my words, considering you called Sato a misogynistic prig to his face when he asked why you’re so good at math - I quote - even though you're a girl”, he replies, smirking in delight having called your bluff.

“He deserved it!”

“Well”, he points out, utterly reasonably. “Daishou and Sato deserve to be insulted by me too.”

At the very least he’s alright to work with. More than alright, really, if you set the bar to Sato-san, who spent project meetings drooling on the library bench, who couldn’t even read the script you prepared for him with suitable gusto. You even had to step in to answer all the questions to salvage your grade. Kuroo’s smart, you knew that from the minute he answered a professor’s question perfectly during a lecture, despite his eyes drooping, half mast, despite the question requiring a series of tricky mental calculations. And he’s responsible enough to pull his weight and then some, putting his devious mind to work to charm both the professor and his imagined marketing audience, even if you might have ethical qualms about his tactics working too well in real life.

So alright, Kuroo Tetsuro is a menace, even if he’s a pretty good work partner. You’ll give him that.

It still doesn’t explain why you’ve let him worm his way into your life so easily.

You’ve never been one to make friends easily. Books, not actual human beings, have always been easier to get along with. After all, if you don’t like a particular storyline, you can always just put the book down. It’s messier with a person, especially when you have to maintain a veneer of social proprietary that your mother never quite drilled down into you. It’s exhausting to navigate social niceties and the hierarchy in school, pretend to be interested in the banal things your classmates were interested in - boys, make-up, dresses - you’d much rather hide in some corner and finish your lessons and homework so you’d have time after school to lose yourself in your books and dream about some faraway land instead.

So it’s especially queer that you consider Kuroo a friend, especially when he clearly falls outside of the mould of your usual friends - popular, sporty, attractive (did you just admit that? You’ll excuse it as a brain fart -), even though he’s secretly a nerd deep down inside. It must be the amount of time you were forced to spend with him, all in the name of acing your projects. But there’s no excuse for project meetings blooming into study sessions with him, he integrates himself with your usual study group, and suddenly, you realise you’re taking turns to foot the bill at the ramen store you frequent together at least once a week.

He’s even managed to batter through your defenses to breach your last bastion of privacy, your bedroom - to study, that’s his feeble excuse when the librarian kicks the volleyball boys’ team out for being too loud.

“What on earth is this”, Kuroo scrunches his nose up in mock disgust, pointing a finger at the rows and rows of books stacked in your tiny dorm room, arranged neatly by author’s name, colourful covers brightening up the otherwise dull, dreary room. This is precisely why you shrieked and barred him entry, but he wedged his foot into the opening you’d left when you stuck your head out to check who exactly is banging on your door at exactly ten fifty-two on a Monday night, and refused to let up until you gave in, flinging yourself on your bed in defeat.

“They’re books” you say, flopping back on your bed. “Surely you’ve seen one before?”

He doesn’t take the bait, lifts the most luridly illustrated tome to the light. You spot a chiselled chest on the cover, oiled to perfection.

Oh no.

“Romance on the seven seas? Seriously? Little miss top student reads trashy romance novels like that?” he leers down at you, pointing at your beloved pirate-chan series of books, purchased as a seventeenth birthday present by A-chan, your best friend from high school. You thought it looked kind of trashy, but you got swept off your feet by the thrilling tale of a princess, kidnapped by a bunch of pirates while sailing to her fiance’s kingdom, and ends up finding her love for sailing and the very dashing pirate captain.

You crouch on your bed, using it as a springboard to launch yourself at him. He dodges easily, laughing as you jump up and down, trying to reach your beloved book to no avail.

“What’s wrong with a little escapism?” you snarl, snatching up a pen, brandishing it at him like a cutlass. “Pirate-chan has spent many happy hours with me alright -”

“Giving you the complete wrong idea about romance, I bet”, he snarks.

“Giving me the right idea of what to expect from romance”, you retort.

He tugs at your ponytail, laughing as he finally drops the book into your waiting hands. “I’ve never pegged you as a hopeless romantic.”

Neither did you, but you’ve been sucked into a world of fictional romance and horrendously dashing leading men, and it’s just nice to build your castles in the air, imagining yourself in the shoes of the heroines, dreaming of gallant knights and princes in shining armour.

“If I don't find romance in real life, at least let me entertain myself with my imagination. You’re not allowed to judge me, Kuroo Tetsuro - not with the amount of shitty chemistry jokes you’ve subjected me too!”

“Touche”, he chuckles. “At least I’ve steered clear of making jokes about the periodic table - they’re not exactly my element.”

“Well, who knows. Maybe romance might be your element!”

At that he tosses his head back, laughs even though there’s a trace of a sneer on his face. “I’m too down to earth for that, princess, so I doubt it. But you can try me”.

His expression should deter you, you should give him your most ridiculous novel just to laugh off your reading habit as a joke, but you’re so intent on proving your point that you take him at face value, rifling through your collection, running your finger along paper covers to extract your all time favourite. You picked up on a whim one day after school and fell in love with the anthology of tenderly written stories of lovelorn girls and boys who’ve never been taught to love, of heartbreak and learning how to grow in spite of and because of love.

“Here you go”, you lay it gently on his lap. “Let me know if you like it.”

“Will I be moved to tears when I read it?”

“That’s up to you”, you tell him. “If you’re a cold, unfeeling robot, incapable of love, probably not I suppose.”

“Maybe I am”, he replies, a little too seriously. It makes you regret your harsh words, even if you meant it as a gentle jibe at him.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I bet a ramen dinner that you’ll end up sobbing over your pillow when you finally finish it.”

“You’re on - I want the full works, extra bamboo shoots, eggs, char siu, the whole lot, and I don’t want to hear you complain that I eat too much.”

“Oh my god - greedy guts!”

“Hey! You made the bet, not me - “

“You better not lie - I’m going to test you on which bits actually made you cry, cos I don’t trust you -”

You’re relieved when you both slip easily into your usual pattern of bickering, when he laughs, loud and unrestrained, even though your next door neighbour bangs on your wall to tell you both to keep it down.

Kuroo Tetsuro is a menace, especially when he’s his naggy, old-man self.

“Did you just go out jogging alone?” He demands when he catches you coming back from another early morning job around the campus. It’s one of the few hobbies you’ve kept since high school, going for a run when the sun still slumbers, when the world is at its quietest, because it’s in the near silence that your frazzled mind can reset.

“What about it? Aren’t you getting ready to go jogging yourself?”

His tracksuit and running shoes are a dead giveaway of his hypocrisy, but his frown deepens. You want to scratch the itch to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do anyway, but he beats you to it.

“What if something happened to you while you’re out running by yourself? It’s so early no sane person’s even awake - what if you fell down and twisted your ankle. What then? Or worse - what if some stalker decided to steal you away, which come to think of it, would be pretty easy considering no one would even hear you call for help -”

His fears are unwarranted considering Tokyo’s crime rate, and he scoffs when you tell him so.

“Low crime doesn’t mean no crime, sweetheart. Not to mention low crime rates don’t account for stray pebbles or cracked pavements that can trip you up.”

“You make it sound as if I don’t carry my phone around with me when I go for a run. What do you take me for - a fool?”

He stares down at you, indicating that the answer to your rhetorical question is a resounding yes.

It’s not as if he’s your dad - not that your old man could’ve stopped you from doing exactly what you want, he’s always been over-indulgent with his precocious oldest daughter, but you haven’t accounted for the fact that Kuroo Tetsuro is as obstinate as you, possibly more so. Because the very next time you open your door to put on your running shoes, his door swings open, and he steps out, stretching languidly.

You curse the hapless school administrator who assigned you to a room three doors down from Kuroo Tetsuro. You ask the gods to ensure that he only drinks lukewarm water in summer, ice cold water in winter. You ask the gods to smite him with the indignity of wearing his shirts inside out, the minor annoyance of never being able to match his socks.

“I didn’t ask you to babysit me!”

“It’s too early to quarrel”, he complains, shooing you forward.

“I’m not quarrelling! You - you just leave me alone, you hear me?!”

Kuroo doesn’t even bother replying, waits until you’ve tied your laces before silently following you, a looming shadow that stands out even in the blue-dark moments before dawn. You set a pace that should be punishingly slow to a lifelong athlete like him, but he doggedly keeps pace, follows you until your breath puffs out like smoke, white in the pink-gold rays of dawn, and you refuse to concede defeat when even you return to the dorm.

“You’re wasting your time by following me”, you tell him, annoyed. “I’ll be fine alone, I’ve always been -”

“It isn’t a waste of time to make sure a friend of mine doesn’t end up dead in a ditch out of sheer stubbornness”, he replies, wiping his sweat casually, the first light of the sun catching the gold flecks in his amber eyes, making your mouth go dry.

That’s the first argument you willingly lose to him.

You make his life easier by waking up an hour later instead of your usual hour, and you try to actually set a pace that leaves him a little breathless, even though you’re usually wheezing on the floor by the end of it. But it’s not too bad to have a companion on your runs - the pavement is wide enough, he teases, but he has the uncanny knack of knowing when to fall quiet when you need the time to clear your mind, usually when schoolwork or insensitive classmates get you down, and knowing when to monologue about his life as a distraction whenever you’re on the verge of giving up on your jog.

“So Sato-san is a dick but he’s a pinch server - you know what that means right”, you nod, because yes, Kuroo has spent many mornings explaining each and every position in volleyball, since he’s the only one between the pair of you who can actually talk while running, his fitness level is scary - “so I gotta practise our serve and block move with him, even though it’s such a pain to hear him run his mouth. And I actually have to humour him because he’s a senior. Kenma has a point, hating hierarchy in sports clubs -”

“How’s practice going, now that your competition’s coming up soon?”

“Absolutely brutal”, he pouts exaggeratedly, but there’s a spark in his eyes that suggests otherwise. “It’s been laps and blocking drills non-stop, and my obaa-chan thinks I’m gonna develop knee problems from jumping so much.” You agree with his very wise obaa-chan, and he pats his own abused knees sympathetically when you tell him so.

“But we’re gonna take championships, you just wait and see!”

You don’t really need to wait and see, because Waseda has taken the championship the year before that, and the year before that, the glass cabinets in front of the volleyball gym groaning under the weight of gold trophies. The boys’ team is stacked with talent, and the fact that Kuroo is even a starting regular is pretty amazing, but you’re not going to deal with his preening if you tell him so.

“I’ll be sure to watch it when it’s broadcast on TV. Though if I have to see Sato-san’s ugly face, I might throw a shoe at the screen, no promises.”

“TV?” Kuroo laughs incredulously, as if the past hundred years of technological advancement mean nothing to him. “You should come watch it in real life, it’s so much better. Man, the tension of matches is unrivalled - plus you get to hear the spikes being slammed onto the floor, react to thrilling receives in real time - courtesy of me, of course. TV doesn’t do volleyball matches any justice.”

“I couldn’t get tickets”, you admit when he’s finally done gushing about the magic inherent in volleyball competitions. You’re not lying. Most of the tickets were snapped up by Waseda’s very dedicated cheer team and fan club, such is the popularity of the boys’ team. You were in class and missed the rush, but you weren’t about to let Kuroo in on the secret that you were eager enough to watch that you cleared your schedule in advance.

“You couldn’t get any tickets?” He repeats blankly before his eyes widen, mouth falling open. You decide you really hate that stupid expression on his face, the one that wavers between pure shock and unadulterated delight. “Wait a minute - you tried to get tickets? You’d willingly watch the matches? You?!”

“That’s it I’ve changed my mind” you shoot back, crossing your arms defensively. “I’m not watching your shitty matches, hell no -”

“Will you really come, if I get tickets for you?”

For all his teasing, his words are heartbreakingly sincere. You gulp a mouthful of cold air, waits until it settles uneasily at the bottom of your belly.

“Yes”, you say, so quietly that your own ears have to strain to pick it up.

He doesn’t smirk at you as you feared, just shoots you a smile that’s actually open, brighter than the first rays of the sun peeking over the horizon, so bright that you actually have to drop your gaze on the ground.

That probably marks the point when Kuroo Tetsuro becomes a menace to your heart.

True to his word, he produces a ticket for you, telling you that of course the players would get their own tickets to distribute to family and friends, and you do end up going, because you promised, after all. Never mind the amount of prep work that you’ve insisted to yourself you must do before exams roll around, never mind the ridiculous amount of sleep you’re giving up, just to spend hours watching a friend of yours play a game where twelve grown men chase after a colourful ball.

You gasp when he leaps to slam the ball into the ground, the earth shaking at the point of impact. You watch as he defends with dogged patience, attacks with deadly precision, confounds the blockers across the net with a shit eating grin that you realise, to your horror, you’ve grown to become very fond of.

It’s also just your luck to have chosen a seat that’s in front of an elderly couple, decked out in Waseda’s dark maroon, holding placards with Kuroo’s name brightly emblazoned across it. You wouldn’t have approached them during the break if not for the way they both look around helplessly at the sprawling arena, obviously lost in the sea of screaming fans and over-enthusiastic players from opposing teams.

“I’m a friend of Kuroo”, you bow politely. “Can I help you?”

Unlike Kuroo, they’re exceedingly sweet, nodding and asking you where the washroom is (you immediately grasp obaa-chan by the arm, offering to walk her there when you notice she’s a little unsteady on her feet), where they can get some refreshments (you insist they stay put, run to the onigiri stand to buy whatever they desire, your heart warmed by the fact that they pat your cheeks and call you a kind girl). You sit by them for the rest of the matches that day, cheering with as much gusto as them, Kuroo’s grandfather bellowing every time his grandson scores a kill block, Kuroo’s grandmother leaning back with satisfaction when he pulls off another thrilling save.

Two hours pass in a flash, pins and needles stab your legs, making you yelp when you finally stand up.

“Will you tell Tetsuro that we’d like to say hi to him, if he has time? I’m sure dinner’s out of the question, he’ll have debriefs and meetings tonight, but we were hoping to see him at least.”

They remind you so strongly of your own grandparents that you don’t even dream of saying no to them. You make them promise to stay on their seats before ducking through the crowd, intent on locating one rooster headed boy so you can relay their message.

“Kuroo!”

He turns to you, still surrounded by his teammates. Sato sends you a withering look, and you reciprocate, expression darkening before realising you’ve stepped foot in a giant’s lair, but your trepidation vanishes when Kuroo greets you with his usual shit eating grin. You’re back on familiar ground.

“Have I impressed you yet?”

“Flirt with your fanclub, not me”, you retort, even though your heart’s beating at warp speed. “I’m here cos your grandparents wanna see you.”

“Ah”, he replies, surprised. “You met them?”

“They’re lovely, unlike you”, you inform him sourly, and he just cackles before telling you that he’ll be around to say hi to them if they stick around for a bit, and he does, loping up the stairs with his long legs to loop his arms around them, tips of his ears turning pink when his grandmother pinches his cheeks, when his grandfather ruffles his hair and tells him he’s proud of him.

“I can’t stay for dinner, unfortunately”, he tells them with genuine regret on his face.

His grandmother shakes her head gently. “Don’t worry Tetsuro-chan. We’ll have dinner instead with your lovely friend - why haven’t you introduced her to us earlier..?”

“Obaa-chan, don’t bother her, she’s probably busy -”

“I’d love to”, you interrupt. Kuroo snaps his mouth shut, an unreadable expression on his face. “That is - if you don’t mind my company?”

His grandparents assure you that they very much would not mind at all, and you’re swept off with them to a little diner serving delicious grilled saba over a bowl of fluffy rice. You see where Kuroo’s obsession with eating fish comes from now, as his grandfather leans back in his chair, burps softly in satisfaction having polished off the entire fish, bones and all, his grandmother chastising him for his lack of table manners in front of you.

You laugh, telling them that hardly anything they could do could scare you off, given your inauspicious first meeting with their grandson. His grandmother shakes her head in resignation when you detail how he’d stolen your precious katsudon, and mutters that she’ll ban him from her dinner table on the weekend to teach him a lesson.

Caught up in the moment, you smile wickedly. “There’s really no need for that. I stabbed him with my fork and made him buy dinner”. Then your smile drops, because there’s no way any grandparent would take kindly to their grandchild being stabbed, never mind that you did so with a kitchen implement -

His grandfather cackles, the hyena type of laughter that sounds so eerily like Kuroo that you have to stop yourself from whipping your head around to scan the diner to see if Kuroo the younger decided to skip his team’s meetings and dinner to show up instead. He very obviously isn’t, and your shoulders drop from its place around your ears.

“It’s good someone’s around to liven things up”, his grandma says. “Kuroo used to be such a quiet child until he made friends with Kenma-kun, and then his volleyball team - he was captain y’know? Such a good, responsible boy, and now I’m glad he’s met you too.”

“I -uh”, you think about the stories they’ve told you about Kuroo Tetsuro sketching his journey from a quiet obedient boy breaking out of his shell to his current, smirking, confident self - though from the sounds of it, he’s still their dutiful grandson whom they dote upon to no end. You’re truly glad Kuroo’s not around to hear you praise him, you’ll never live it down. “He’s a good friend. I’m glad to have met him.”

His grandparents beam at you.

It makes the decision to accompany them to a nearby shrine too easy, standing beside them as they bow deeply twice, clap their hands together solemnly, seeking the gods’ blessings for their precious grandson. You snatch up a victory charm when their backs are turned, dropping a couple of hundred yen coins into the temple’s coffers, because - well. You’re not ready to admit to yourself why you’re clutching said charm so tightly in your hand even when you wave Kuroo’s grandparents off, why you can barely look at him when you knock on the door at night to press said charm in his hand -

(it’s just like your stories - the princess sending the knight fighting in her honour with a lock of her hair)

“I didn’t want you to fall over and break a leg tomorrow”, you tell him. “Would be a waste, especially since you’ve already spent most of your time practising instead of studying.”

“Then maybe you should’ve gotten a health charm instead of a victory charm”, he snorts, taking the colourful fabric from you. His thumb brushes against your palm, and you repress the shiver that creeps up your spine, but you’re helpless to stop the flicker of warmth against bare skin.

“But thank you. I appreciate it.” He scratches the back of his head. “And thanks for taking care of my grandparents too.”

“They’re very nice”, you answer, and in order to quell the rush of affection in your throat, you resort to your usual insults. “I don’t get what happened to you, in that case. Though I’m sure they tried their best.”

You don’t really hear his indignant squawk that he turned out alright, thank you very much, because he’s standing far too close to you, and you’d really prefer not to babble whatever nonsense your first schoolgirl crush might possess you to say, something like how you’ve never noticed how pretty his eyes are, dark irises flecked with gold, swirling like a sun storm, how you’ve never noticed the perfect cupid’s bow in his lips, the cut of his cheekbones, sharp enough to cut marble.

You just bid him goodnight and goodbye before running back to the refuge of your room, thankfully earning a break from him until the competition’s over, because he desperately needs to sleep before yet another round of matches the next day and the day after. You don’t get a chance to talk to him again until his team wins decisively, three-all against Chuo University, even though you spend the entirety of each of his matches gripping his grandmother’s arm in a death grip, his grandfather on the other side of her.

The entire team is swarmed with well-wishers, and neither his grandparents nor you have any desire to wade through a sea of people, so you have yet another dinner with them, enjoying yourself thoroughly as they regale you with embarrassing stories of Kuroo when he was growing up, all over a hearty meal of rice and fish.

He isn’t in his room when you return to the dorms. Unsurprising since he and his team will probably be up all night celebrating their win, hard fought as it was. You’re thankful for that, because you don’t think you can withstand the havoc his presence causes you, the confusion as to why the tips of your fingers start tingling when you watch him play, why you don’t feel the urge to slap his smirk off his face any longer, burning instead with the impulse to lean up on your toes and -

Gods.

You’re going to sleep right now, and wake up early for a run, hopefully without him so you can clear the cobwebs in your mind and get over this ridiculous - this ridiculous fixation on one Kuroo Tetsuro that you would do better without.

Your phone lights up with a text. “Don’t go running in the morning without me!’

It’s a good thing your room is tiny, because all you really can muster is the energy for one large step before you flop, boneless on your bed.

He calls your bluff and actually turns up on your doorstep when you crack the door open, ready for your usual run even though he’s visibly exhausted, dark smudges beneath his eyes. You thought you heard him (and some of his other teammates) stumble back into their rooms long past midnight.

“Oh for the love of - you’re exhausted, I’m an adult, I can take care of myself, this is embarrassing -”

He isn’t deterred by your protests, follows you down the steps, into the wide, open world, still too quiet, too dark.

“And here I thought you’d stop to congratulate me first.”

There’s something wrong with you for actually finding the smug grin directed at you attractive. You’d like to slap something, because it’s not fair that he’s making you feel like a lady in the romance novels, pining for her leading man - it’s not - it shouldn’t be your snarky, pain-in-the-ass of a classmate who never fails to annoy you with his snide comments and smug attitude and charming smirks and - help you are shunting your brain right into hell where it belongs -

“Hellooooo? Cat got your tongue?”

“Congratulations”, you say flatly, before adding in a futile bid to return to your usual patterns of bickering and insults with him. “Y’know, your grandparents are so much sweeter than you.”

“That means you find me somewhat sweet, that’s what I’m hearing.”

“You should clean your ears”, you snap, taking off into the dawn, hating that he catches up with you within a few strides.

Kuroo Tetsuro is a menace to your heart, especially when you suspect it’s beating at maximum speed not because of your run, but because of him.

m.list.~ taglist.~ a/n: fluffy goodness abounds, but does this state of affairs continue?

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu romance #nekoma #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurō #castles in the air #storm chaser universe

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korasonata · 3 years

Text

So, the original plan was to do these quotes until Joe and Cleo finished their models, which was half accomplished during this stream (yay Cleo!). Question is should I still continue these after Joe has finished his model, or have we had enough now? Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model stream part 7! Link to the video is below and time stamps are above each set of quotes!

Link: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1155955572

—

00:32:05

Joe: This is our weekly paper craft stream. I’m joined today by ZombieCleo, who you can find at—

Cleo: Hiiiiiiiiii!!!

Joe: — twitch.tv/zombiecleo. You don’t need to type the “hi” in the middle. Although it is adorable, and so I wouldn’t blame you.

—

00:56:25

Cleo (in response to someone saying they like Hershey’s chocolate): I mean you can like the chocolate. It’s ok to be wrong. It’s fine. You know, you can—

Joe: A certain amount of the other person being wrong is to be expected in any relationship.

Cleo: Yeah! Look at my relationship with you, Joe.

Joe: Yeah, I mean we’re— we’re off the charts for that.

—

01:01:15

Joe (changing into his chroma green tank top): We can’t have people seeing my torso.

Cleo: Oh you know, yeah you— you are a cryptid.

—

01:02:04

Joe (doing a face camera expansion): these chains I’ve forged in life are about to begin pulling me down to the deep below! Enter the Jhoooooooost!

Cleo: Can I just point out that “life” was very southern. At that point. (Heavy southern accent) Life.

Joe (heavy southern accent): Life.

Cleo: Laaaaaffe

Joe: Liiiiife *both laughing* These chains I’ve forged in—

Both: laaaaffe!!

Joe (heavy twang): Pullin’ me daaan to the deep behlooow!

—

01:07:16

Cleo (in response to Joe having a laughing fit): And that is one of the rare times where Joe has a complete, absolute giggle fit on stream

Joe (still laughing): Ok I’m sorry, but “puritans go home” is the best thing to put on anything worth— ok im gonna start making a— ok. (Serious) Im gonna start making an actual checklist cause, um, (actually writing down a checklist of things he’s taking to his parents for thanksgiving) ok thanks—giving twenty twenty—one. Ok so, salad cream.

Cleo: *wheezing*

Joe (reading list): “Puritans go Home” icing on pie…Um, you know let’s just throw iron brew in there. Why not! Irn-Bru and vodka!

Cleo (laughing): Sure! Why not!

Joe: Yeah. Well, so, my maternal grandmother was Scottish and—

Cleo: oh I’m sorry.

Joe: —so I think my mom would get a kick out of Irn-Bru. As like “oh! Here’s something from the old country!”

Cleo: *physically wheezing* from the old country!

—

01:29:43

Joe: Oh, it’s really fun. Did you know that a bunch of people on Tumblr care a lot about how tall each of us are?

Cleo: Yeah. Yeah.

Joe: Yeah, oh man I’ve been spreading information and taking weird height pictures with people at conventions for years. It’s like— *Cleo laughing* I’ll intentionally like stand on things or like, uh, or like stand in such a way that you can’t tell I’m crouching, so people are like “Ok, so Joe’s like taller than Bdubs but shorter than, uh, like— Stress or something. It’s like how does that happen?!” *trying not to laugh* Because I’m screwing with you.

—

01:31:11

Joe: See that’s the thing is— is sometimes people think things are about power. I think they’re just about being obnoxious.

Cleo: I mean, you think most things are about being obnoxious which is why it’s a power move for you. Cause being obnoxious is your power move. It’s where you’ve got the most power, Joe.

Joe: Hm, that makes sense.

Cleo: Sometimes I do. I try not to when I’m with you, because— it’s easier.

Joe: Yeah. You don’t wanna give me any actual like workab— or usable intelligence.

—

01:42:47

Joe (reading chat): I’ve been on Hermitcraft since season one— yeah. That was only like 10 years ago though.

Cleo: I’ve been on Hermitcraft since season 2.

Joe: Yay Cleo!

Cleo: Which was only because Joe asked me to come on, or pu— vouched for me.

Joe (genuine): Well I am glad you joined.

Cleo: I mean I was— I was at the point where I was just like “is this what I wanna do for the rest of my life? Should I just go full ham into teaching?” And, uh, then you made that offer and I thought “well, I’ll see how it goes”. And it did quite well for me. So…you know.

Joe (quietly): I am so glad

Cleo: You are the reason why I’m still doing Minecraft content.

—

01:44:19

Joe (reading chat): Attasked says “Only you can judge whether you’re hot” no plenty of people can tell I’m hot, Graved. It’s— pretty blatantly obvious. You don’t— you don’t have to be good at judging to be able to tell. Like, that’s not an only me thing.

—

02:00:54

Cleo: You ever have those moments where you’re just questioning your choices in life?

Joe: *having a breakdown* Moments!

Cleo: *cackling*

Joe (through tears): I’m sorry, you’re just the best Cleo.

Cleo: *laughing, but genuine* Awe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to depress you today!

Joe: No it’s— *inaudible sobbing* Today—

Cleo: *dying*

Joe (quietly to himself): Is this is frame? Sorry, I was cutting this out of frame. My bad.

Cleo (still laughing): I like how everyone’s just sort of gone quiet and gone “…is Joe ok?”

Joe: nOO!!!

Cleo: We’ve established that Joe is not ok.

Joe: But I’m really good at it!

Cleo: *spitting out her drink*

—

01:49:52

Joe: Let’s go down the Mississippi, Cleo.

Cleo: I mean, that I think we could probably do. Let’s go down the Mississippi, Joe.

Joe: yay!

Cleo: On a flimsy raft.

Joe: Yeah, we can actually— there’s a lot nicer boats now though. Like—

Cleo: I mean— yeah, but do we— do— you know…it’s the Huckleberry Finn experience.

Joe: I mean, here’s the thing, is if you actually came here and I was like “Cleo, let’s go to the Mississippi River and go down the river a few miles”. I think you’d be more likely to actually say yes if I had an actual boat lined up than if I had a flimsy raft.

Cleo (excited): If it— if it— if it makes you feel better, I— I would do the flimsy raft. Like, hands down. It seems more fun.

Joe (realizing that she’s serious): I— you say that, but I don’t think you’ve seen the Mississippi River. Like, the problem is it’s full of these giant barges these days, the wakes of which would just throw your raft over.

Cleo (dead serious): I can swim.

Joe (attempting to compromise, completely lost as to how he has somehow managed to be the voice of reason): Ok…Alternatively we can go down a smaller river…In a raft…

—

02:04:43

Joe: Sorry, I’ll stop monologuing. Uh, but yeah sorry I was in the process of—

Cleo: I’LL STOP MONOLOGUING! Yeah, yeah that’s gonna happen.

Joe: yeah, I’ll- I’ll say I’m gonna stop monologuing and I’ll warn you that-

Cleo: And then he just continues

Joe: -that Cleo you should probably be ready to start talking sometime in the next 8-12 minutes.

—

02:15:26

Joe: Oh, I need to get a green screen suit jacket. Um, I realized. Cause I got the green screen, um, uh dress shirt. That I wear under existing suits, but I don’t have an actual like green screen suit.

Cleo: I— I am always amused by your definition of “need”

Joe: My definition of what?

Cleo: Need.

Joe: Need.

Cleo: I need a green suit.

Joe: Ok, I’m sorry Cleo, the people need me to get a green suit.

—

02:30:23

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe-Getters and Go-Getters” yeah, Joe’s not a Go-Getter, he’s a Joe-Getter. Which is infinitely worse.

Joe: You say being a Joe-Getter is infinitely worse, but you also frequently lament that you get me. So, maybe you’re a Joe-Getter. Have you considered that?

Cleo: I am a Joe-Getter. I do get you, Joe. Which is terrible. It’s— It’s a trauma, actually Joe, I’ll have you know.

Joe: Yeah, comprehend me and despair, Cleo.

Cleo: I looked too deep into the abyss. The Joe-byss, sorry.

Joe: Thank you, yeah we’ve got a brand. Always be branding.

Cleo: *giggling* A.B.B. - Always Be Branding.

Joe: That’s not an infinite void of despair. That’s an infinite void of—

Both: Joe’s despair.

—

02:34:31

Joe: Let’s just leave it at don’t push me off a roof. Like *laughing* I feel like anything I could add to that would undermine the overall theme of just encouraging people to not do that.

Cleo: Um, let me put it like this. I always had the capacity. Always. But! I never acted on it, Joe.

Joe: Mhm, yeah thank you.

Cleo: …yet…I’ll try not to.

Joe: Yeah. And— and also keep in mind Cleo, I mean, given, you know, how well we’ve managed to work together over the last decade. Even if you did push me or throw me off a roof. *grinning* What makes you think that you’re not coming with me?

Cleo (slightly proud): That felt like a threat. It felt like a threat. I’m not gonna lie.

Joe (through giggles): Yeah, that was the, like— I spent 90 seconds figuring out how to revise that so is it was not blatantly like a violent threat.

Cleo: I mean…yeah, I think— I think— I think between the tw— it— it’s a mutual aggression pact at this point.

—

02:51:53

Cleo (holding up seemingly two identical pictures of turret towers): Am I— am I going actually insane? Are they not…the same turret?

Joe (examining pages on screen): …y—you know there might be…subtle differences that, uh, a— you know, skilled crafts person would find unavoidably blatant. Um…I make no such claim Cleo.

Cleo: Good, because, you know…trauma…Yours, not mine.

Joe: *laughing* yeah I was gonna say. Trauma as a verb. I’m just gonna trauma you.

Cleo: *laughing* I’m gonna trauma you so hard right now.

Joe: Yeah, if you don’t calm down and agree with me.

Cleo: If you don’t agree with me, that’s— that’s your mistake.

—

03:38:48

Cleo (about authors): just be careful who you like and just recognize the faults in any media that you do like. Just don’t imagine that everything’s perfect, because it’s not. Just be open to the fact it’s not perfect.

Joe: The only perfect media is YouTube videos produced by ZombieCleo.

Cleo: Fact.

—

04:00:34

(Having finished her model)

Cleo (tiredly): No booshes. No booshes. I know it’s got places for booshes, but I don’t want to do booshes because…there’s a limit.

Joe (currently in the United States): Yeah. Well, now you can come over here and help me Cleo, is what chat’s saying.

Cleo: Ok.

Joe: Go help Joe hold this stuff he can’t glue.

Cleo (Currently in England): Hang on, hang on. *rummaging on desk* What do you need? I’ve got lots of things, what do you need?

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #joehills #joe hills

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