#2020. I was fucking devastated to. and while I do think it was perhaps better give how I'm sure Trump would have acted I mean he also is

[suncaptor]

people sanctimoniously trying to explain US politics looking down or spreading vitriol towards anti-Biden people like you're not going to convince people upset about a genocide during an election year of a sitting president that they're just too stupid or evil to partake in harm reduction the way you want them to and advocate for the president arming Israel actively lmao.

[sitp-recs]

Hi!!! Do you have any recs where Harry and/or Draco smoke week?

I sure do, anon! I have a feeling a did a reclist for this before but I’m losing track of the new ones as I can’t add more links on the masterlist post and I’m too lazy to start another one hehe 💀 anyway here are some recs for you, enjoy!

Options by @mintawasalreadytaken (2021, E, 2.5k)

Harry's looking for company; Draco fits the bill.

A Shorts Story About Love by @shealwaysreads (2019, E, 3.5k)

House-sharing with Slytherins, student life, magic weed, and short shorts. Harry's life at university might be strange, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters.

What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd (2018, E, 12k)

Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

Secret Admirer by Cassiopeias_shadow (2021, E, 12k) - thanks for the rec, anon!

Fresh out of training, Harry discovers that life as an Auror isn’t at all what he’d imagined - it’s much better actually, and there are stickers. As he settles into the team, a case lands quite literally on his doorstep... who keeps sending the Knight Bus to his house?

Discretion is Key by orphan_account (2012, M, 14k)

In the months following their return to Hogwart for their 8th and final year, Harry and Draco bond over a shared interest in marijuana, snack foods, and other boys.

holemate by @vukovich (2021, E, 19k)

Most people never get a soulmate. Harry has buried three. When the mark appears again, this time alongside an American Auror, perhaps a diversion can keep everyone alive. A diversion that looks a whole lot like a chaotic, fuckable Malfoy.

Nice Things by aideomai (2020, M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Famous by @fw00shy (2021, E, 24k)

It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants.

Fearful Trill by @vukovich (2021, E, 29k)

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he's made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone.

Colloquy by @dracoladon and @lazywonderland (2021, E, 30k)

Harry's not gay, Malfoy just smells good.

In Our Blood by secretsalex (2018, E, 38k)

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

Dreaming Darkly by @quicksilvermaid (2019, E, 40k)

It's five years after the war, and Harry is not okay. He hates his job. He hates Robards. He hates Ron's promotions and Hermione's concern. He chases oblivion in booze and weed and quick dirty fucks, but it's never enough.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (2013, M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

[fatehbaz]

Another compilation of thoughts on apocalypse; dystopia; better futures; post-crisis resurgence, contemplated during first week(s) of pandemic quarantine. [Part 1.]

-----------------------------------

Pedro Neves Marques. “Parallel Futures: One or Many Dystopias?” e-flux. April 2019.

[I]t is important to remember that some futures never went anywhere – they were not allowed to – and yet they survive. These are futures that have been suppressed and canceled by colonial power. [...] I’m talking about parallel futures. By this I mean futures that have always been present, but that, together with the worlds they belong to, have been forced into one  future only. […] There is only one planet, but there are many worlds inside it.

Writing from an Afrofuturist standpoint, artist and writer Kodwo Eshun suggests that the colonial present is managed by both a preemptive and a predictive  power. “Preemptive” means that colonial power must control the past so as to deny the emergence of any future other than the one desired by the colonialist. “Predictive,” in contrast, implies that power must manage the present in such a way that the future is predetermined in advance. It is the active production of future horizons, compliant with power, that comes to shape the present. […] Borrowing a term from anthropologist Michael Fortun, one could call this preemptive prediction a “future anterior”: the forceful imagination of a technoscientific future that by its very utterance determines the shape of things to come. The future anterior orients the present toward a predetermined goal, while also rereading the past in its image. This is perhaps why Eshun writes that it is not the future that emerges from the present, as one would normally think, but rather the present (and the past) that arrives from the future. Colonial power creates a future in advance, so that no other will take its place. I want to ask how we can think through colonization and decolonization  as a matter of futures. Colonization – of bodies and minds but also of  nature itself – has always been as much about the negation and control of  possible futures as about the erasure of the past  […].

-------------------------------------------------

Indigenous Action Network. “Rethinking the Apocalypse: An Indigenous Anti-Futurist Manifesto.” 2020.

Apocalyptic idealization is a self fulfilling prophecy. It is the linear  world ending from within. Apocalyptic logic exists within a spiritual, mental, and emotional dead zone that also cannibalizes itself. It is the dead risen to consume all life. [...] Its an apocalyptic that colonizes our imaginations and destroys our past and future simultaneously. It is a struggle to dominate human meaning  and all existence. [...] There is a song older than worlds here, it heals deeper then the colonizer’s blade could ever cut. [...] Why can we imagine the ending of the world, yet not the ending of colonialism? We live the future of a past that is not our own. It is a history of utopian fantasies and apocalyptic idealization. It is a pathogenic global social order of imagined futures, built upon genocide, enslavement, ecocide, and total ruination.

What conclusions are to be realized in a world constructed of bones and  empty metaphors? A world of fetishized endings calculated amidst the  collective fiction of virulent specters. From religious tomes to  fictionalized scientific entertainment, each imagined timeline  constructed so predictably; beginning, middle, and ultimately, The End. [...] This way of unbeing, which has infected all aspects of our lives, which is responsible for the annihilation of entire species, the toxification of oceans, air and earth, the clear-cutting and burning of whole  forests, mass incarceration, the technological possibility of world  ending warfare, and raising the temperatures on a global scale, this is  the deadly politics of capitalism, it’s pandemic. [...] We are the antibodies.

The physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual invasion of our lands,  bodies, and minds to settle and to exploit, is colonialism. Ships sailed  on poisoned winds and bloodied tides across oceans pushed with a  shallow breath and impulse to bondage, millions upon millions of lives were quietly extinguished before they could name their enemy. 1492. 1918. 2020 …

Biowarfare blankets, the slaughter of our relative the buffalo, the  damming of lifegiving rivers, the scorching of untarnished earth, the forced marches, the treatied imprisonment, coercive education through abuse and violence. [...] The day to day post-war, post-genocide, trading post-colonial  humiliation of our slow mass suicide on the altar of capitalism; work, income, pay rent, drink, fuck, breed, retire, die. [...]

The anti-colonial imagination isn’t a subjective reaction to colonial futurisms, it is anti-settler future. Our life cycles are not linear, our future exists without time. It is a dream, uncolonized. [...] We will not allow the specter of the colonizer, the ghosts of the past to haunt the ruins of this world. [...]

---------------------------

Phil A. Neel. Hinterland: America’s New Landscape of Class and Conflict. 2018.

St. Louis is where storms collide. [...] And as the air currents grapple over the middle-American sky, the storm-swollen Mississippi grinds forward below. Once-uncommon “freak floods” are now standard, the levees overcome every few years and large chunks of St Louis and its surrounding suburbs washed away by the intractable inertia of a river bound to outlive any city. [...] In recent years, growing  climate chaos has only intensified this ambient war, each “extreme  weather event” more volatile and less predictable. [...] The result is another slow apocalypse.

------------------------------------------

Hugo Reinert. “The skulls and the dancing pig: Notes on apocalyptic violence.” Terrain. 2019

In a newspaper interview a decade or so back, during an earlier peak of reindeer-crisis discourse, a [Sami] herder named Johan Mathis Oskal put this issue very succinctly: “If the authorities do cut the number of animals by half, and we then get a bad year [udr], we might be left with no reindeer at all. That would be an eternal catastrophe.” […]

“Apocalypse” […]. The word has something of the titillating about it: a streak of prurience, redolent of spectacle and sentimental violence,  the interminable grind of […] death-fulfillment fantasies […]. It feels indulgent; more specifically, perhaps, it echoes the affects and fantasies that are invested in the anthropological project of salvage – as a collective enterprise of acquisition and reification rooted, all too often, in the postulate of an apocalypse of the Other. […] The image of a reindeer excess has haunted the edges of the State in Norway for almost two centuries now: a fevered, imaginal swarm always threatening to overspill the borders, invade the cities, eating the land bare. [...] The underlying impulse has persisted: a will to contain the herd, to control them, reduce – and through this, to control and reduce a segment of the Indigenous Sami population that in conspicuous ways has resisted normalization […].

The escalation of this […] narrative has coincided neatly with the  escalating interest of national and international actors in “developing”  the tundra […]. “Death has occupied the tundra,” one headline proclaimed. […]. The miasma of this moment is simultaneously an effect and an instrument of governance: a kind of ambient manufactured context [...]. Acting on the vision of a vast catastrophe – a charnel dream of bodies that  rot in the snow, devastation, collapsing systems, the stench of blood –  the providential State deploys the killing-violence apotropaically, in a preemptive move: “To prevent them from dying, they must be killed.” […] In this sense, the reindeer crisis is also legible as a  performance, a spectacle of justification orchestrated by the State in its own periphery: “disaster as a form of governance”  […].

“Eternal catastrophe.” To someone like Johan Mathis, excess appears as a temporary and survivable mismatch  in the calibration of herd size to grazing resources. The problem  resolves itself: “nature itself reduces the [reindeer] number.” […]. Contrast this to the State narrative – in which excess appears as the continuous potential for a terrifying breakdown, a rampant and unregulated proliferation in which the dead scatter like  leaves, chaotic and numberless across an incompletely known terrain. Even the possibility of that crisis disrupts the sovereign claim of the State over death. The threat of force tries to reestablish that  claim, at least symbolically – aligning reality with a theory of power that takes this control (over death) as simultaneously total and already-given but also always under threat, inherently insufficient. In the crisis, the State falls chronically short of its own theoretical claims; the answer to that “failure” is expansion, growth, intensification of control, the further consolidation of power.  

----------------------

Nat Marcus. “At the Hellmouth Coatcheck.” Flaunt. November 2019.

Note that city limits are often transversive; radial lanes rather than walls at the perimeter. [...] Escalating seismics aside, the Hellmouth obviously wouldn’t open under Los Angeles, but rather off-center, somewhere out-of-pocket like Sunnydale. [...] Chicago acts like a trellis or lays out like a sheet of graph paper, one edge wet and thus easily torn away by Lake Michigan.

How, or assuming what posture, do we guide ourselves through the present via the future, if short-term futurity looks rich with suffering, and in the long-term, it’s merely void?

Apocalypse is a gradient, and the inferno [...] isn’t devoid of politics: while I write this ledger, the number of residents  of what could be called hell on earth (shoreline eroding, uninsured pharmaceutical deadlocks, Western wars fought elsewhere, etc.) only grows. [...] By our current trajectory, those existing outside hubs of capital -- beyond the spatial and/or ideological limits of capital and major cities, the subaltern and incalculable -- will be swallowed by ocean or fire first. One doesn’t need a prophet’s eyes to see this. [...]

A bell-hooksian love ethic is one by which love is recognized as a form of action, one undertaken to stimulate the personal and spiritual growth of oneself and others. [...] Hell is either already here or just around the corner [...], at cross-hatched odds with the orderly loop of the city filled with law, may simply allow us to step into the shrinking space between those two places, and be here willfully [...].

---------------------

[ft-dads-au]

Caught Up In You

Gratsu Weekend 2020 Prompt: Laughter Pairing(s): Gray x Natsu, Lyon & Gray, Lyon x Juvia (pre-slash) A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​

AO3 | FF.Net |Takes place after The Sweetest Birthday

January 22, 2021

Gray was aware that Natsu was a handsome man. That exotic pink hair that Gray longed to run his fingers through to see if it really was as soft as it seemed. Those piercing green eyes that always seemed to try to delve deep into him until Gray was almost willing to surrender all his secrets. The gorgeous sun-kissed skin that covered the taut muscles of his fit body. Altogether it was a devastating combination, one that Gray was having more and more trouble fighting against.

However, none of those things drew him in as much as Natsu’s laughter. It was loud and sometimes obnoxious, but it was always genuine and free in ways that Gray had never been able to imitate.

It was that laughter that had Gray brimming with excitement as he followed Lyon through the doors of Crime Sorciere, knowing that Natsu would be working behind the bar that afternoon. He couldn’t wait to have it ring through his ears again, making all his worries disappear like snow in the sun for just a brief moment.

Lyon made his way over to one of the many tables, greeting a few colleagues in passing and scanning the place absentmindedly as if he was looking for someone in particular. Gray shrugged it off, gesturing to a table that had a good view of the bar.

“Let’s just sit here,” he proposed casually, already pulling back one of the seats and hanging his coat over it, “I’ll go get us some drinks.”

He ignored the judgemental look Lyon gave him, shifting his attention to the bar and the person who was standing behind it. Natsu hadn’t seen him yet, he’d been busy with customers when they’d arrived.

Gray heard Lyon call after him, letting him know he was going to order for them, as he approached the bar slowly, trying to delay the moment Natsu saw him so he could enjoy watching him for a little bit without being noticed. The moment Natsu saw him, his lips stretched into a welcoming smile, and his eyes lit up.

“Hey! Have you been here long?” Natsu asked.

“Nah, Lyon and I just got here, we’re having a working lunch,” Gray explained. He was about to give his order when he noticed Natsu already working on it, mixing together the drink that Lyon loved while getting him a draft beer.

“Don’t just assume stuff, idiot, I might have been ordering something different this time,” Gray complained half-heartedly, only to be regaled with one of Natsu’s blinding smiles.

“You never do,” Natsu winked, handing him the drinks before turning to his next customer, a woman with long blue hair and very fair skin who looked somewhat familiar to Gray although he couldn’t place her.

“Hello there, Welcome to Crime Sorciere! What can I get for you?” Natsu recited in what Gray recognized as his work script.

He wanted to get one more comeback in before returning to Lyon, but he knew he had to wait for Natsu to take care of any customers first, and while it wasn’t all that busy, it soon would be. Crime Sorciere was a popular lunch spot.

Gray was startled out of his thoughts by the woman’s response, “Juvia would like a Naked Lady. Unless,” the woman grabbed a cherry from the small container in front of her and popped it in her mouth suggestively, “You would like one instead?”

His gaze immediately went to Natsu, wanting to see how he reacted to such a brazen order, but he seemed to be taking it in stride for the moment. However, unlike when he made Lyon’s drink, he went to a different section of the bar to prepare the woman’s order.

Natsu soon returned with her drink, “Here you go, Miss,” he offered her an uncomfortable smile and peered at Gray, “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your table? Lyon’s drink is going to get watered down.”

Gray didn’t sense any animosity in his tone, but it still felt like a dismissal of sorts, and so he headed back to his table feeling irritated by the whole thing. He inadvertently slammed Lyon’s drink on the table a bit harder than necessary before sitting down, noticing their food had already arrived.

Lyon glanced at him curiously, grabbing a napkin, and wiping the table of the spilled contents.

“Things not go as you expected?”

Gray refused to answer, his mind replaying what had happened. Maybe Natsu just felt awkward, or perhaps he thought he’d get in trouble for chatting. Or maybe, his brain added helpfully, he didn’t want to respond to her in front of you.

Once that thought had entered his brain, it refused to leave him alone. And even though he knew he should be listening to Lyon, who was patiently explaining yet another issue that had popped up with his divorce proceedings, he couldn’t keep from glaring at that Juvia woman.

“Why is she touching his hand?” Gray growled, “No one needs to do that to order a fucking drink. And why isn’t he telling her off?”

“I bet you’d like to do that,” Lyon deadpanned before biting into his sandwich.

Gray gave him his absolutely most scathing glare at the comment, and Lyon put his sandwich down.

“What? It’s the truth,” Lyon shrugged, “Or are you still clinging to that platonic nonsense?”

“I—” Gray began to protest but knew Lyon was right. He had crossed from platonic into infatuation ages ago.

“Listen, I get it, he’s a great guy, but even if he were into you as well, you’re never going to get anywhere until we get through this divorce, so can you please focus?”

“I was listening,” he protested, eyes already back at the bar. He watched Juvia sip her drink on one of the bar stools, continuing to chat with Natsu while twirling a lock of her long blue curls around her finger.

“Really?” Lyon crossed his arms in front of his chest, “So you’re perfectly okay with the fact that we need to go to Crocus because Siegrain is demanding visitation rights?”

“HE WHAT?!” Gray hadn’t meant to be so loud. Could feel everyone staring at him after his outburst. Still, he just couldn’t believe that that sonofabitch, who had barely acknowledged Aki’s existence most of the time, and who was being accused of child abuse, had the nerve to demand visitation rights.

The restaurant had grown quiet around them, magnifying Gray’s self-consciousness and feeding his anxiety at the realization that the moment he had dreaded for so long had arrived. He looked up at Lyon in silent desperation.

“I’m sure it’s just part of his lawyer’s plan to make him look better in front of the judge,” Lyon was quick to assure him.

Gray nodded, not trusting himself to say anything yet. He could feel his pulse race at the mere thought of Aki having to be alone with Siegrain. He covered his head with his hands, trying to control his breathing.

“Are you alright?”

Gray could hear the concern in Lyon’s voice, but it sounded far away. He focused on his breathing some more only to feel something cold against his neck. He startled, moving away from it.

Figuring it was Lyon, he immediately bit into him, “What the hell, man?”

Except Lyon was still sitting across from him, and his drink glass was empty.

What the heck?

He looked behind him to see Natsu standing there, refills in hand. “Thought you needed to cool off some,” Natsu grinned mischievously, handing Lyon his drink and placing Gray’s on the table, but Gray could still detect the concern lurking in his eyes.

Natsu moved an empty chair from the table next to them and sat down, grabbing Gray’s hand and squeezing it tightly before letting go.

“Don’t you have work to get back to?” Gray muttered, not knowing how to respond to the fact that Natsu had obviously come to check on him after his embarrassing outburst.

“I’m on my break, figured I’d hang out with you guys for a bit,” Natsu smiled, scratching the back of his neck as he added, “Besides a customer is making me feel uncomfortable. I’m hoping she’ll get bored and move on to someone else. I even tried flashing my wedding ring, but it didn’t seem to do anything.”

“I’m sure Gray would be more than happy to help you with that,” Lyon teased, quickly adding, “He’s used to being on the receiving end of unwanted attention.”

“Oh, cause he used to be a model?”

“No, he was like that in college too, must be his charming personality,” Lyon snickered into his drink.

“It happens from time to time, ” Natsu confided, “It was a guy last time, wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What did you do?” Gray asked, trying not to sound too interested, although he really wanted to know the answer.

Natsu played with his wedding band, “I told him the truth.”

“The truth? What-” Gray tried to ask what that meant, but Lyon interrupted him with a question of his own.

“How did that work out for you?”

“Not well,” Natsu laughed, “He waited for me outside the bar after closing and rather forcefully offered to help me forget all about it. So I kicked his ass and went home.”

“Anyway, enough about me, what’s going on with the Princess here?”

“Ugh, can you please not call me that?!” Gray gritted his teeth at the dreaded nickname, “Ever.”

“Seriously though, are you okay?” This time there was no attempt to mask his concern, and Gray wasn’t sure what the correct response was.

He had tried to keep Natsu out of the sordid details of his divorce as much as possible. Mostly because he didn’t like to think about Siegrain or any of the bullshit surrounding his past relationship when he was with Natsu. He was his one haven in this whole mess, and Gray wasn’t ready to change that, not yet.

“It’s just stupid divorce stuff,” Gray replied, trying to make it sound like it was no big deal and feeling like a jerk for underplaying the situation when Natsu was going out of his way to show that he cared. “We’ll get it sorted out.”

“I’m positive you will, from what I’ve heard around here, you’re in great hands!” Natsu smiled, giving Lyon a quick nod and much to Gray’s disappointment getting up from his seat again, “Well, I should go drain the dragon before my break runs out.” Natsu gave Gray a few encouraging pats on the shoulder before making a beeline for the staff room.

Gray could feel the weight of Lyon’s stare on him, and he met his gaze, trying to figure out what it meant.

“What?”

“I don’t get you. Natsu was right here, asking you what was wrong, and you just blew him off.” Lyon shook his head in disbelief. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I- I don’t want him to think less of me,” Gray admitted, pushing his plate as far away from himself as he could manage. No longer in any mood to eat.

“Gray,” Lyon sighed, “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just forget it.”

“No, I don’t want to forget it, and while we’re at it, why did you interrupt me earlier? I wanted to hear his answer.”

Gray had barely finished that sentence when Lyon lost his patience and countered,” No, you didn’t. Because it wasn’t going to be what you wanted to hear. The men and women I represent sometimes take their rings off before the divorce is even filed for, yet he’s still wearing his nine months after his wife died. What do you think that means, Gray?”

Gray could only stare at his friend, knowing he was right but also not wanting to hear it said out loud.

“I interrupted you because I figured you wouldn’t want him to see your face when he told you he wasn’t ready to let go yet. Because once he did, he would certainly know how you feel about him.”

Gray opened his mouth to defend himself, but there wasn’t much he could say, and Lyon didn’t give him a chance anyway.

“And you-” he gestured towards Gray and went on with his lecture. “You’re no better. You’ve already constructed this fantasy in your mind. Made him a part of your future without knowing how he feels about you. Without even sharing any of your past with him. The truth is, and I’m saying this as a friend, he’s not the only one who’s not ready to move on.”

And there it was, the truth Gray hadn’t been willing to face. He’d let himself get so caught up in the euphoria he felt whenever he was with Natsu, that he’d used that as an escape without stopping to think about the reality of their situation. He was in the middle of a hostile divorce, and Natsu was still grieving the death of his beloved wife. As Lyon had pointed out, Gray had built castles in the sky, placing Natsu in his vision of the future, when they were both still grounded by the past.

Lyon started getting his things together, “We should move back to my office to discuss our options with this visitation thing. Do you want to box the rest of our food?”

Gray nodded listlessly, knowing that even though he wasn’t hungry now, he probably would be later, and there wasn’t much near Lyon’s office. He got up and put his coat on, sneaking a quick glance at the bar. The Juvia woman was still there, but she seemed to have toned it down with her flirting attempts and was now just conversing with Natsu pleasantly.

“You ready?” Lyon asked, and Gray nodded as his friend grabbed their plates and headed to the bar.

“Hey, Natsu, you think you could get us some to-go boxes and our bill?” Lyon asked as he placed their food on the bar top.

“Yeah, sure,” Natsu replied, moving over to the computer and selecting their table. Once the receipt printed out, he placed it in front of Lyon and moved away to find some boxes.

“Lyon?”

Gray was surprised to see Juvia seemed to know his friend, but what was even more astounding was Lyon’s reaction to the blunette. He looked thrilled to see her, which was atypical for the usually stoic man.

“Juvia? Is that really you? It’s been years!” Lyon went on enthusiastically, and Gray tuned him out, content to tease him about it at a later time, when he wasn’t feeling quite so defeated.

Natsu soon returned with two containers, and he and Gray put the food in. Gray wanted to say something, feeling guilt at keeping him out after Lyon’s words.

“Listen, about earlier,” he began, but Natsu waved him off.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable sharing, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s not that,” Gray struggled to find a way to explain himself, but he couldn’t find the words he wanted.

Natsu’s laughter once again rang loud and honest, startling Gray out of his word impairment. He nudged him to look at Lyon, “Looks like I had nothing to worry about after all, huh?”

The two were exchanging business cards seemingly getting on quite well together, and it wasn’t long before they heard Lyon asking her out for drinks later that evening.

“I guess not,” Gray agreed, curious as to how the two knew each other, making a note to ask Lyon later. He got his wallet out and handed Natsu enough jewels to cover their tab and leave a tip.

He really wanted to say something to fill in the awkward moment as they waited for Lyon to be done, but he also knew it wasn’t the time or the place. Siegrain was making a play on Aki, and that had to come first. Natsu’s first test date was coming up soon, and they needed to focus on that as well.

But as soon as they got through those two hurdles, Gray promised himself he would sit Natsu down and tell him everything he’d been holding back, save his feelings. At least, until he felt Natsu was ready to hear them.

[sarriane]

it's interesting to see so much meta about 'the timeless children,' still, and considering all of the reviews, kneejerk reactions, criticism, love, hate, anger... it just makes me come back to the idea of how it's an attempt to restructure and recenter the show. whether it's a bad or good attempt is one fandom is never going to agree on (fandom never agrees on anything). but every little piece i see about it, every reaction kind of brings to light how it both suceeded and failed.

there's so much in the racial + gender dynamics to pull apart, places where they failed, places where they did well. i think it's the problem with a show that is still so white and so dominated by men, that while they're making an effort towards diversity, there's so many fatal missteps. things in the script that seemed innoculous in another circumstance are entirely changed when you add in identity factors.

(why would you cast a south asian actor and then put him in a nazi uniform? while it's great they cast an actor of color in a classic role, one who was clearly the perfect choice, it's also an unfortunate consequence that we now see the familiar racist image of a man of color "menacing" a white woman. thanks.)

it's not a problem limited to dr who, either -- i remember when kelly sue deconnick finished her run on her first volume of captain marvel, the villain was a genius scientist, and a woman of color. one fan commented (paraphrased): 'hey, i finally saw myself in your comic book - and i was the bad guy.' i remember KSD said something like "i thought all representation was good representation?" and she noted it, and i did too. again and again, we see this: creators in positions of privilege trying to provide representation, but falling short because of the racism, and misogyny, and bigotry they haven't unlearned.

and it's not easy. i certainly don't know how to write a story about a villain of color and a white woman and avoid any pitfalls -- perhaps the solution is to leave those stories to people who are actually from those racial backgrounds, or have those identities. but how to do that when the people in power making casting + writing decisions are white men? obviously, dr who needs more people of color working in it. it needs more women's voices, more queer voices. but even that's not a solution. RTD and JNT definitely didn't have eras free of homophibia and transphobia.

(we get this shit with queer-coding, too, which is why i've never advocated for doctor/master to become canon. i will happily read a million fics exploring the relationship, but i don't want to see the master portrayed as a predatory gay, thanks. and i don't want to see the doctor portrayed as a man caught in an abusive relationship, eventually ending with him literally keeping his romantic interest locked up and isolated while he tries to reform/brainwash her. i'm not into warden/prisoner porn, thx.)

i'm still working on my ideas about how/why doctor who has been irrevocably changed by 'the timeless children,' because the reviews aren't all bad. there are very much people who feel seen. in my opinion, it's very very difficult to take a show that's centered around england and turn it into a post-colonial narrative. dr who has hosted a variety of political opinions over the years, and so has the doctor (don't fucking @ me about kill the moon). in 2020, it's hard to continue to write the story of the doctor as a voice for the repressed when he's an old white man from a planet of "lords," that are a bunch of other old white men. at some point, it's another goddamn white savior narrative with a mansplainer at the center. (note that whittaker's casting does not solve this, but at least it's a start, i suppose? ugh, give us more jo martin!!)

so, the doctor is a woman now, and she has a history where she has been victimized, but she's overcome that. the knowledge of that does not victimize or martyr her, it allows the doctor to recenter herself in the narrative as a voice for the oppressed because she's been there.

i wish i could say that the show treated the jo martin incarnation with the respect she deserved, but even then, she's once again the Wise Old Black Woman trope. she goes from her character in 'fugitive of the judoon,' a doctor in her own adventure who refuses to let another co-opt her story, to a literal support character, the good angel on the doctor's shoulder reminding her who she is. and while it's nice to see a black woman doctor affirm who the doctor is -- she's affirming it to a white doctor. she's a prop. it's such a devastating waste of the character.

'the timeless children' reminds me a lot of captain marvel, and i think some of its failures are in that thirteen is not a Big Damn Hero. it's difficult to suddenly turn the privileged renegade into the timeless child, but also push the classic idea of: "should we trust the doctor?" because we shouldn't! she isn't a superhero. she isn't carol danvers, she has never had a history of fighting for everything she has - everything was handed to the doctor, including when he took the TARDIS and ran away. there's a note in an essay someone wrote in the 70's about 'the deadly assassin,' that showing us gallifrey takes the "who" out of "doctor who." for as much as the 'timeless children' tried to reclaim that, some of the questions it leaves us about the doctor are not pretty. especially when she lets an old, kind man die in her place (and grandpa joe from derry girls, for shame).

(on a wider note, in 50 yrs, will media criticism talk about the period of third/arguably fourth wave feminism in scifi? where white blonde women were treated like science experiments so empires could be built on their backs? but they refused victimhood and became heroines, standing up for those who canmt protect theirselves? which is great, except for the "white, blonde" element and the fact that this narrative, if it becomes a trend, is literally coopting parts of african american history.)

i hate that i have to settle for what we have, because i think media can always be better, and we deserve better, and they should try better. i've seen it said before that doctor who can't break down barriers, since it's a kids' show that airs before 8pm and has to be centrist enough to appeal to a wide audience. i think that sentiment is a little naive of what science fiction actually is and does. whatever the case, it seems clear to me that the next season of doctor who needs to involve more people of color in the cast + crew, and more women, and more queer folks. and it makes me aware of something much more in my control - that i've seen very few responses to the episode from fans of color. and i'm really not sure how to find these voices and amplify them, other than to follow and reblog, and listen.

i hope one day to reform these thoughts into something resembling proper media criticism, but i think it will take time, and revisiting old and new who, and probably seeing how the next special treats the reveals from 'the timeless children.' i've got so many thoughts about s12 and gender and race and the writing's almost "colorblind" approach to it all, and i never expected this to get longer than a paragraph long rant. there's just too much to talk about.

[technicolortheshow]

BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE

My Bloody Quarantine part 1

The last six months have been pretty shit, hey? It looks like there is no future anymore... global warming, COVID-19, Australia on fire, wars... shall I go on?

ANYWAY, we are not here to talk about a stupid government led by a buffoon with a mop in his head (ops!) but to praise one of the bands who kept me company during this bloody quarantine of mine: BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE. This German act, in fact, hung out with me during the several nights of insomnia, which, trust me, were devastating, loooooong and cold. Cigarettes after cigarettes, wine after wine, I thoroughly enjoyed the discography of the quartet and I thought it was time to write something about them.

Because of the slow-moving and nocturnal nature of their music, a doom jazz plenty of end-of-the-world ballads, or, in their words "unholy ambient mixture of slow jazz ballads, Black Sabbath doom and down-tuned Autopsy sounds", I happily matched their records to these apocalyptic months. Just like a dark noir by Leo Malet, or a Terry Gilliam dystopian movie, Bohren & Der Club of Gore managed to convey, over the last 25 years, a deep sense of ethical abandonment and claustrophobic imprisonment. There is no future in the music of the German band, no escape from reality, which is doomed and looped into an endless limbo. A not long time ago - which now seems AGES ago, to be honest - I went to the White Cube for the latest Kiefer’s exhibition. I believe that the combination of BCG music and Kiefer’s artworks pretty well. 

Over the last months, while listening to them, between a Medoc and a Nebbiolo, I was picturing the band in a smoky “bar at the end of the world”, channelling some kind of Tom Hillenbrant’s dystopian political setting or a Lynde Mallison’s grey cold painting. The best description, though, comes from the band website: “Dear friends of nighttime drives, remote bridges to nowhere and empty multi-storey car parks”. Club Silencio state of mind, indeed.

The ensemble has constantly been releasing high-quality records since 1994, with the first doom jazz album called MOTEL GORE - albeit the first release was a 1992 cassette filled with post-hardcore noise published under the name of Langspielkassette. MOTEL GORE is, as someone brilliantly described it “audio pointillism”. I think this similitude is accurate: the band did draw tiny dots of obscure, eerie, music on canvases of sound. “Die Fulci Nummer” drives me mad, with its spectral adagio: it’s so good it would’ve been great in the Fulci’s masterpiece Non si Sevizia un Paperino. “Cairo Keller” is charming and evocative, reminding me of a possible soundtrack for Lovecraft The Nameless City. Extra points for the brilliant reference of the cover.

in 1997 BCG published MIDNIGHT RADIO, two hours of lynchian-LA-night-driving-without-a-destination soundtrack. if it is true that its predecessor "Gore Motel" is more song-oriented, and therefore a lot easier to listen to - it’s evident that Midnight Radio is more rewarding in its own special way: it’s a journey in the darkest corner of your mind. Yes, because the journeys BCG offers are not only external but often internal. The band has developed over the years a therapeutic dialogue between the listeners and their consciousness. Jungian jazz music anyone? LET’S DEBATE!  

By the way, while writing this article, I’ve realised how difficult is to talk about BCG music without quoting several cliches - everyone always ends up referring to the same stuff:” car parks”, “night drive”, “Lynch”. But I have to admit, in this case, it’s definitely true! Listening to BCG can really inspire these topics under our skins, as trivial as it sounds! The point is: they do it better than anyone else, they have been doing this forever and they represent the top in this particular sub-genre. With the results of a cinematographic component in their music that leads to these night drive scenarios, post-modern inner state of minds. Bravo!

Let’s go back to Midnight Radio, to BGC and their discography. It’s undeniable that their music fits perfectly in the set of the SLOW TV/MUSIC/YOUTUBE movement. From The Norway train to this 1986 Canadian TV show called “NIGHT WALK” (which, by the way, looks freaking awesome), from Andy Warhol’ “SLEEP” to Kiarostami or Tarkovsky cinema, the slow movement has left an imprint to contemporary culture. Arguably, BGC, with their long holistic records, is part of the movement. Calming the listeners and bringing them into a meditative state of mind, without being mindfulness - luckily. The point is: BCG makes you think about yourselves, finding out that you are someone you should be scared of! Know yourself, fear yourself!

All that Jazz came in 2000 with the thrilling “SUNSET MISSION”, thanks to the help of saxophonist Christoph Clöser. In this record the band opened up the sound, literally letting some fresh air to enter their music, easing the claustrophobic moods of the previous albums. A hint of lounge-ness came in, due to the mellow, yet sophisticated, sax of Mr Clöser. It is still quintessential BCG, with the nihilism of the band raising up form the bass. Slow, reiterated bass lines are running through the record, giving to Sunset Mission a gloomy, hypnotic cadence. The liner notes include a quote from Matt Wagner's Grendel comic book, which reads: "Alone in the comforting darkness the creature waits. As confusion reigns on this hellish stage, the deafening grind of machinery, the odious clot of chemical waste. Still, the trail of his ultimate prey leads through this steely maze to these, the addled offspring of the modern world.

According to many people, 2002 ‘BLACK EARTH” is BCG masterpiece. I don’t know yet, as I REALLY like them all. What I can say is that Black Earth sounds a lot more accessible, with an even more developed sense of ‘lounge-ness’ which was not so evident in the previous records.  Blach Earth is a good record. Perhaps the trick here is the balanced tempo of the saxophone. Perfectly played within the songs at the right time, Christoph Clöser’ sax conveys an open jazzy sound. One of my favourite directors ever is Jean-Pierre Melville, his movies are everything I like in term of style and plot. Noir a là Dashiell Hammett, but French and without hope - give me more of this, Hollywood, please! Enough of fucking Marvel heroes, give me noir hard-boiled movies! 

Black Earth could have easily been the perfect great soundtrack for Mr Melville’s movies - especially, IHMO, Bob le flambeur. Think about it: a french man, with a cigarette in his mouth, gambling his life for a young woman, in a dirty Marseille, with the BCG slow tempo doomed jazz. yasss please, give me more. Or a glacial Alain Delon killing his lover for money.

Black Earth was followed up, in 2005, by “GEISTERFAUST”, which is considered a slower than ever version of the former album. In Ghost Fist (this is the translation) Bohren & Der Club of Gore has stripped down its sound to the bone, becoming more gentle and less aggressive without any compromise. 5 songs only, named after the 5 fingers of the hand, for an hour of dark jazz. Again, excellent quality.

I have been buying BCG on CD, I think this music on vinyl does not sound perfect UNLESS you have an extremely high-quality sound system, Like some classical music issue, where you need to hear the pianissimo of the piano and single notes, BCG music deserves a very clean medium, I would say CD is the best.

Jazz de nuit again on their seventh album “DOLORES” published in 2008. This record is pure Badalamenti, pure Lynch in the night. Within the ten songs of Dolores, the core idea of slow-music is even more highlighted, with no guitars at all on the whole album and a sedated keyboard-based mood.  In 2009 the band released a 10 minute EP called “MITLEID LADY”. it is strange, because, albeit recorded just after Dolores, it sounds way more gloomy and somehow different. It is BCG but has another level of sophistication compared to the previous record. This step further in the direction of stylistic accuracy is confirmed two years after, in 2011, with another EP, this one named “BEILEID”. The cover of the record is a reference to the famous Edward Gorey, or at least I believe. 

The record includes the cover of  "Catch My Heart" by German heavy metal band Warlock, with vocals from Mike Patton. I believe this is the only song with a singer in the entire catalogue of the band. Beileid is a cinematic mood-changer composed of pained saxophone solos, and ghostly string sections, an album that will sweep your mind away into dreamland. A must-have IHMO.

In 2013 the ensemble released “PIANO NIGHTS” probably the warmest record of the band. The Piano obviously helps a lot in making the sound softer and brighter - candle lighted rigorously. A German Gothic feast, with a touch of Teutonic expressionism - who remembers the movie The Hands Of Orlac. BCG should definitely play the soundtracks of this movie. A twisted, dark, thriller with Gothic and expressionist elements. After many years, the band introduces the 

Finally, in 2020, the band published “PATCHOULI BLUE”. A pristine, unique, summa of their work, which manages to sound similar to other releases of the band, yet unique, with something different, like a small accent. 50s noir glam, Badalamenti, German Gothic, Slow-Movement philosophy are all elements we can find in this record, but there is something else: a hint of electronic, which can possibly open new territories to the band. I am curious to see if they will become a techno ambient act in the like of Gas (joking).

Aristotle once said that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I guess this is the whole point in BCG’s music. The synergy the band has been consistently showing over the last 3 decades, and the constant refinement of their own skills. 

VIVA BOHREN! 

[jichew]

college!hyunsuk au♡part two

a/n: the long awaited part two is here!! thank you all again for the love on part one :((( idk how to make links so you if you haven’t read that, just go through my ygtb imagine tag to find that. I thought this was much needed considering all the hate suk is getting lately :/ feel free to leave any questions/asks/comments in my inbox! mwah ♡ 

so it’s been a while since the night of the party

first things first, mina and gon are a couple nowヽ(*＾ω＾*)ﾉ

you really never thought you could see any of your friends in a romantic relationship but these two go so well together uwu

they’re kind of like the resident mom and dad couple

and because of that, your two friend groups have officially been adopted by them!!

and at first you were lowkey scared of his friends ,,, esp seunghun

but when you found out he’s actually just a puppy in a buff man’s body , shit got LIT

idk what i meant by lit, it just seemed to fit

anyway

so you guys basically hang out every day, usually congregating at the boy’s place bc they’re sophomores and have their own apartment

and u and hyunsuk are basically besties now

now,,, you can’t deny you were very attracted to him before

lol don’t tell anyone but u still kinda are(๑>◡<๑)

but you just assumed it was surface level and decided he was better as a best friend anyway

so basically you guys found out you share a bunch of the same classes

and now you guys walk to all ur classes together!!!

and suk brings u iced coffee in the morning

and walks you back to your dorm at night

and sometimes you guys hold hands

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

you’re also his calculus tutor now

and in return he buys you food!!

usually that would be a pretty good tradeoff but tutoring hyunsuk is so,,,hard

“so can you complete this problem using integration by parts?”

“if you give me a kiss on the cheek, yes”

(O_O)

this man is really after your heart isn’t he

hyunsuk flirting with you is kind of a common occurence

“fuck you suk”

“fuck me yourself you coward”

(´⊙ω⊙`)

anyway,,,,,

usually it’s just harmless pickup lines

but sometimes,,,, you’ll be doing homework or listening to lecture, and he’ll just stare at you

“what r u looking at”

“how pretty you look today”

HOW DARE HE

＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

and you can’t help how your heart flutters when that happens

but also, you have to force yourself to snap out of it bc this is hyunsuk we’re talking about :///

he’s just so ,,, out of your league

not only that, but you were sure he had this flirty nature around everyone

and even if he did magically end up liking you, you didn’t want to risk losing him as a friend

(◞‸◟)

sad hours: activated

so it’s been a few weeks and the guys decided to throw a party before everyone left for thanksgiving break

obviously the whole gang™ is invited

tonight,,, you are NOT drinking

bc you are a responsible individual who has decided to be the designated driver for the night

＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

but some other people have different plans

right as you guys walk in the door, your eyes are immediately drawn to hyunsuk

perhaps it’s because he looks so completely ethereal with the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, smile glowing under the dim lights of the living room

or perhaps its because he’s taking shots like there’s no tomorrow

hhnnggggg

and your inner mom is just like

“HYUNSUK NO”

“HYUNSUK YES”

and then he downs his fifth shot of the night

so now you’re hyunsuk’s babysitter for the night

y/n, you really outdid yourself

so after maybe two hours of smacking solo cups out of suk’s hand and watching him try to wall twerk to eyes noes lips,,,

he’s FINALLY gotten tired

\( ˆoˆ )/

so now you guys are just chilling in the living room

most people have left so its just the og gang

and hyunsuk’s just laying on the sofa with his head in your lap

(^-^)

and normally you would find that cute, but you’re still kind of mad at him for getting so drunk

＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

but you can’t help yourself from playing with his hair bc you’re whipped lol

anyway,,,you’re kind of zoned out of the conversation and you’re pretty sure hyunsuk is falling asleep

until you feel his hand grab yours while it’s still in his hair

which kind of brings u back to reality

and u look down at suk

and he’s just looking up at you with his eyes all crinkly and a goofy smile on his face

and he’s just like

“y/n you’re so pretty” (´∀｀)

and you’re kinda like (^.^) but also ur like

“lol suk ur drunk”

and then he’s like

“NO”

and suddenly he’s sitting up and hugging you super tight, his face buried into your chest

at first your like (o_o)

because this is hyunsuk and his face is literally in your boobs hhngg

finally you snap out of it and you’re like

“THATS IT, IM TAKING YOU TO BED”

and suddenly everyone’s just looking at you two like

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

and you’re like

(・・?)

and you realize hyunsuk still has his face in your boobs

and suddenly he properly sits up

and brings his face really close to yours

and you’re just frozen like (°_°)

but you can’t help but notice how soft his lips look right now

and the way he’s staring at you, you just know he knows the effect he has on you

and you’re wondering how socially acceptable it would be if you just closed the distance with your lips

and you suddenly realize how frantically your heart is beating

“you want to take me to bed?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

this HOE

FINALLY u snap out of it

“t-that’s not what i meanthhbbdjnj”

and you’re just stumbling over ur words

and suk has that drunk dopey smile on his face again

and everyone’s still looking at u two like ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

and you just take his hand and drag his short ass up the stairs and make him lay in his bed

“i love a woman who’s domineering in the bedroom” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“shut the FUCK up” (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

but once suk is finally tucked in his bed

he calms down

and as ur about to leave

he grabs ur wrist quickly

and u weren’t expecting it so you kind of stumble on to him

and you guys are really close in proximity again

and he whispers in a soft voice

“y/n, you know i like you right?”

you can’t lie that your heart stutters for a second

but you smell the alcohol in his breath

so you heave a sigh

and gently kiss his forehead

“sweet dreams hyunsuk”

and you leave the room

uhhh so like fast forward two days to the monday after the party

you,,,, have kinda been ignoring everyone

ESPECIALLY hyunsuk

you’re just so

hnbbggggghhhhhdhhdhbdh

＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

so here’s the thing

you like hyunsuk

you KNOW you like hyunsuk

you’ve basically admitted it to yourself that your head over heels for him

and you KNOW he doesn’t feel the same for you

but the way he acted with at the party the other day made you think different

and you’re so CONFLICTED

i mean he was drunk????

if he actually liked you, wouldn’t he act that way when he WASN’T drunk?

and it just makes you sad more than anything

so you stay in your dorm all day

and you ignore suk’s calls

because he’s been calling you since the next morning

but you can’t bring yourself to hear his voice, let alone TALK to him

and you know there’s no way he can get to you bc you’re in your dorm all day

until you hear a knock on your door

and you look through the peephole and see mina

and you’re debating opening the door or not bc you really look and feel a mess and you’re just sad and embarrassed

“I KNOW YOU’RE THERE OPEN THE DOOR OR I’ll KICK IT DOWN MYSELF”

and you lowkey believe her

so you open the door

and you look at her

and she looks at you

and then you just start SOBBING

as if you weren’t already a mess, you’re even MORE of a mess now

so mina has closed the door and guided you to your bed

and she’s just letting you cry, patting your back and whispering comforting words

and when you finally calm down

you look up at her, tear tracks marking your cheeks, your nose red and runny

“mina, i really like him” (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

“i know”

...and you’re sobbing again

and then when you calm down again you’re like

“i don’t even know why i like him!! like sure he’s good looking and sure he has great fashion sense and sure he’s nice and cares about me and takes care of me and ...”

...surprise! you’re sobbing again

and mina just lets it happen

she knows you’re going through it

and when you’re finally out of tears

she looks at you and she’s like

“it’s ok to like him. it’s ok to like a guy. so what if he may not like you back? not that that’s true, but you never know until you try! and if he doesn’t, so what? you know your worth! and you are worth so much! don’t let a guy stop you from living your life, because you are so much more than that.”

mina for president 2020

and you look up at her

(´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

you’re so lucky to have her as a friend hhnng

so you’re feeling better now

and you skipped your classes on monday, because you were still getting it together

and you didn’t have any classes with suk on tuesday

and you think he knows you just need your space

bc he’s stopped calling you

but he’s still texting you

and you may have checked them and you may have squealed bc he called you babe

anyway

it’s wednesday

you know what that means

it has come full circle... the dreaded 9 am chem lecture

so you leave your dorm extra early

because you know you need the time

and you get to your class at 8:50

and right as you’re about to enter the building, you feel a hand grab your wrist

and by now, you know who it is

so you let him lead you a little away from the building where no one was

and he finally turns around and looks at you

and you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eye

so you just look down at his hand that is still holding onto yours

and you gently pry his fingers from around your wrist

and you let your arms rest at your sides

“y/n....why have you been ignoring me”

you already feel tears coming on

but you bring your hands together in front of you, still staring at the ground

“it was only three days” you mumble

and he’s quiet for a sec

“i missed you”

lol ur rlly whipped and you know it

you finally look up at him

and he just has the most devastated look on his face

and you can’t tell if it’s the glare from the sun, but his eyes look watery

and he his lips are pouted

and he just looks like a kicked puppy

and everything in you is just SCREAMING to hug him and apologize and tell him everything will be ok

but,,,,you have to do this ... for yourself and mina ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

so you take a deep breath and look him in the eye

it takes a while for you to formulate words but

“why do you always flirt with me like that?”

“wha-“

“when you know i like you, why would you play with my feelings like that? i thought you had some respect for me, but it’s so degrading when you lead me on just to reject me later! this isn’t some game suk...”

you finally take some time to breathe and take a look at him

and his face is just blank

and his mouth is kind of open

and he’s staring at you ~like that~

and you’re about to snap at him again

but then he opens his mouth to say something

“...you like me?”

you’re kinda confused

“obviously, you know this already???”

he just stares at you for a little longer

and he kind of looks like he’s about to cry again

“...no i didn’t”

uhhh huh

now you’re the one who’s speechless

he takes a little step closer to you

your heart is starting to beat really fast again

“you know i only every flirt with you right....and it’s not because i think it’s funny, well i mean it is kinda funny -“

you: ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

suk: ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

“anyway.... i only ever flirt with you... because i like you too”

he kind of whispered the last part

but you heard it

and you’re looking at the ground but you can’t help the smile growing on your face

so you just close the gap and hug him

and he’s kind of unresponsive at first

but he lets his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him, his head falling into your hair

and you can’t see his face but you know he’s smiling bc u are too

you lean back a bit to look at him

and you notice the way his eyes keep flickering between your eyes and lips

and as much as you would love to kiss his pouty lips, you have to put ur foot down

“NOT IN THIS HOUSEHOLD WE ARE LATE FOR CHEM LECTURE”

and that’s the beginning of a beautiful relationship

･:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+

[entireconfection]

Can We Turn It Around?

Hard to believe it’s been four years, isn’t it?

           As I sit down to write this, 5 weeks out from the 2020 election, it’s hard to know where to start. For almost four years now, we’ve been living in an altered (and very shitty) state of reality. Donald Trump’s America. A never-ending dumpster fire. And, to be frank, one of the worst chapters in our country’s history. On top of that, we’ve just crossed the half-year mark of a global pandemic, an ongoing crisis by turns devastating and surreal, one that seems sadly befitting of our dystopian, is-this-really-happening times.

           After 4 agonizing years of hate and stupidity ruling the roost, of nonstop assaults on science and decency and civility, of the obliteration of democratic norms, destruction of the checks and balances that we naively assumed would always be there for us, we’ve almost arrived at another election. And with it, the possibility that we can start to turn this around. That we can rise up and say “NO. We DON’T want a dictatorship. We WON’T go along with this. We will FIGHT for love and decency and our democracy.”

           Personally, I am proceeding under the assumption that Trump will be reelected. I have to do so for my own wellbeing. I don’t want to get my hopes up. The bitter, blindsiding defeat of 2016 is still fresh in my mind. There are many ways that this election could turn into a shitshow. Not the least of which is we have a ruthless dictator as President who is doing everything he can to sabotage the vote. And he has a powerful ally in the Republican party, which has expertly suppressed the vote for decades and is doing so now with as much gusto as ever, determined to hold onto power at all costs. Throw in all of the logistical challenges and obstacles caused by COVID, along with all of the flaws of our antiquated, broken-by-design voting system (courtesy of the democracy-hating GOP), and no one really knows what the hell is going to happen on November 3.

           So I have to assume that Trump will win. Because, awful as that will be, life will go on if he wins. And I need to be able to carry on as well.

           Still, as accustomed as I’ve become to the insanity of the Trump era, it’s sometimes hard to grasp that it’s come to this. That we are perilously close to becoming an authoritarian country with a permanent conservative majority. That it pretty much all hangs on this election.

           It’s not just our country either. It’s our planet that’s on the line. Perhaps you’ve heard of climate change? You know, that little issue that Americans don’t give a shit about, but is an existential threat to human civilization? Well, it’s only getting worse. The Northern Hemisphere just had its hottest summer ever, 2 degrees above normal. You can expect a new record every year for your lifetime.

           Trump, as expected, has been a disaster for the climate – withdrawing from the Paris Accord, gutting environmental regulations left and right, and basically doing as much damage to the earth as possible. Given that experts say we have 10 years to make major cuts in emissions if we have any hope of avoiding irreversible and catastrophic climate disruption, it’s safe to say that a second Trump term would pretty much be game over for the climate, and for life as we know it. It’s the predictable outcome when you elect an idiot climate denier president of the most powerful country in the world.

           Then there’s the fate of democracy itself, which is in a perilous position around the world. Fascism masquerading as “right-wing parties” has been on the march across Europe for years. Trump has gleefully helped that effort, cozying up to ruthless dictators like Kim-Jong Il and giving his buddy Putin the green light to continue to ratfuck elections, sow chaos, and wage cyber warfare on any country he chooses.

Meanwhile, Trump has given the middle finger to our allies constantly since taking office. Again, completely to be expected from a jingoistic simpleton whose entire understanding of foreign policy boils down to “America First.” Remember his shit-eating smirk while refusing to shake Angela Merkel’s hand in the Oval Office? Trump exemplifies the right’s foaming-mouth hatred of Europe, foreigners, and diplomacy. Just one of their many flavors of bigotry, he and his base believe that the rest of the world basically consists of international elitists determined to destroy America. Not exactly a philosophy conducive to preventing trifling matters like, say, global pandemics or world wars.

The more I write, the more I remember when an absolute sleazebag our president is, and the more astonished I am that this man is our president. This is the guy who 60 million people voted for in 2016. This is the guy who is nothing less than a savior to millions and millions of white Americans. Donald fucking Trump? You would be hard-pressed to find a more loathsome person in all of America. And despite knowing full well how polarized and tribalized we have become, it’s still hard to fathom that so many Americans can look at this vile, morally bankrupt con man and see a great leader, a champion of their values, the greatest president of all time. It just doesn’t compute.

           And yes, many of his voters are well aware of his vices, and yes, white working-class voters have legitimate problems, and on and on. For four years, we’ve discussed and dissected these reasons for Trump’s victory. They are admitted and entered into the record. Now can we please get rid of this menace because he destroys our democracy, wiping out the great experiment that has endured for 244 years?

           Because that’s what’s really on the line on November 3. We’re all deciding if we want to go back to being a democracy – a flawed, messy, imperfect democracy to be sure, but still a democracy at heart – or a dictatorship.  That’s not hyperbole. That’s just the situation.

Trump, aided and abetted by the entire Republican apparatus and 40% of the population, has turned us into a dictatorship. He has put his cronies in positions of power. He has fired anyone who refuses to become his unquestioning flunky, smearing public servants who have spent decades working to help people – a concept completely alien to Trump. He has demonized the media (except for the propaganda outlets who run only pro-Trump news), relentlessly undermining one of the pillars of a liberal democracy, turning people against the very journalists who are trying to expose how Trump is screwing them over. He has conspired with our enemies to compromise our own elections. He came to power by colluding with Russia to his political opponent. He tear-gassed peaceful protestors in front of the White House and painted Black Lives Matter as radical terrorists and applauded right-wing vigilantes who pointed guns at BLM protestors. Hell, he gave them a plum speaking slot at the RNC. Because that’s who calls the shots in Donald Trump’s America – racists and white supremacists.

So, yeah…it’s a rubbish time. And as anyone who remembers the train wreck of Election Night 2016 can understand, I don’t want to get my hopes up. We’ve all been burned one too many times.

Still, it is nice – if only for a moment – to think about a President Biden.

A president who acts like a fucking adult, not a tantrum-throwing toddler or a schoolyard bully.

A president who condemns violence, not one who exploits and encourages it for political gain.

A president who speaks carefully and thoughtfully, knowing his words have real-life consequences. Not one who constantly spews venom and lies, not caring if people die as a result because they’re not his base so screw them.

A president who refuses to legitimize dangerous conspiracy theories. Not one who gleefully seizes on every twisted fairy-tale to emerge from alt-right trolls lurking on 4chan.

A president who accepts the simple fact that our world is interconnected and that diplomacy, respect, and civil discourse are our best tools for making life better for everyone. Not one who embraces the right’s phony-ass “patriotism” and thinks Americans – more specifically, his supporters – are the only people on Earth who matter.

A president who does his fucking job, not one who sits on his ass tweeting and watching Fox News to get his daily ass-kissing. When he’s not golfing or holding white supremacist rallies, that is.

Trump’s awfulness is simply unparalleled, probably in human history. It is an expansive mass so vast and blatant and unashamed that it’s almost a work of art, in a sick way. You could go on forever about the cringe, the iconic moments of incompetence, the garish displays of smirking idiocy and unabashed bigotry that have come to define our time. Sharpie-doctored hurricane maps, Kanye in the Oval Office, calling African countries “shitholes,” telling black and Latina Congresswomen to “go back where they came from,” toilet paper on the shoe, shoving a world leader on stage, soundproof phone booths at the EPA, white supremacists as “very fine people,” caravans, paper towels, upside-down Bibles, covfefe…it has just been a constant, dizzying tornado of hate and evil and stupid. It’s why I stopped watching the news. It’s too much. We weren’t wired to ingest this level of crazy and awful every day. Being a human being is hard enough as it is.

It’s hard to stomach the thought of one more day of this shit, let alone 4 years. Should Trump get reelected, it’s hard to see how anything good will survive. And should his victory come once again come via dirty tricks, be it foreign interference or voter suppression or both, it would appear to confirm that our system has been so hopelessly corrupted by the right that it’s impossible for a Democrat to win. It would suggest that it is now impossible to have a fair presidential election and we’re doomed to have permanent tyrannical rule by a racist, reactionary, science-hating, authoritarian minority. Where we go from there is anyone’s guess.

I hope we can turn it around. I hope there are enough decent people out there who are fed up with this asshole. I hope the myriad GOTV efforts we’ve seen in recent months will motivate people who sat out last time, and maybe some people who have never voted. I hope the collective determination of people who are against Trump is enough to overcome the GOP’s perennial cheating and voter-suppression campaigns. I hope, no matter the outcome, that the whole thing doesn’t devolve into an epic shitshow that makes Florida 2000 look like a calm and orderly affair.

So I have hope. Is it well-founded? Is it anything more than wishful thinking? Hard to say. But when all appears lost, that’s what we have. Hope.  

In closing, if you are dismayed by what America has become these past 4 years, if you want to save the democracy that so many people fought and died for throughout our history, please vote for Biden. Your kids, your grandkids, and the entire world will thank you.

[misszarves]

timeline of my spiral for anyone who wants to laugh react

july 2019: hit a wall with sleep deprivation, anemia, gut problems and probably plain burnout, started having conflicts with my boss especially around my lateness (our workday started at 5:00 AM, he refused to simply write me up or suspend me but instead wanted to “talk about it” and this became extremely intrusive and uncomfortable fast)

also july: had my first encounter with an animal in a sticky trap, outside my apartment, a bird who I was able to rescue

also july: quit that job, went back to the golf course to bartend a couple of days a week

august: moved back in with my parents as a result of my changed employment situation

late august: read that shockingly graphic article in the NYT about child porn that some of you may remember (do I need to put a trigger warning or can y’all use common sense and refrain from looking it up). sharp spike in anxiety, making it worse than it had been in six or seven years

september: picked up more hours at the golf course, was able to make some investments in myself -- a new sewing machine and some singing lessons. had my two-year cake. 

mid-october: found out I was pregnant. on a friday (K, not J, was the father -- some people do ask). made the quick decision to have an abortion but was unable to get in touch with any abortion provider until the middle of the following week (due to phone/email tag, etc), giving me enough time to start Feeling Things about the pregnancy

november: continuing to live with my parents and work full-time as a bartender, succumbed to angst and anxiety as expected -- but family, friends and coworkers with the glaring exception of my mom (who still pretends she didn’t even know I was pregnant, lol) were very supportive. for a brief period, we settled on keeping the baby, and told my dad and picked godparents. when I changed my mind again, my boyfriend was devastated. that pretty much hasn’t changed

late november: in a last-ditch attempt to fend off the crushing dread, I took a trip north to see a friend and her husband (to be clear, I would have visited them anyway lmfao). it helped a little. on the way back, I stopped to see some of my mother’s cousins, who tried to rope me into a pyramid scheme.

november 28: abortion day! my aunt took me to the clinic and then out for burgers. while we were eating, one of the cooks, who my aunt knew, fell off a ladder and onto his back.

first two weeks following the abortion: the normal feel-like-shit-no-matter-how-secure-you-were-in-your-decision period

dec 3: relapsed! 

dec 3 onwards: since the relapse went on for about three months, I can’t nail down when that “two week” period actually ended. pregnancy hormones resulted in waves of anger and teariness, but no satisfying “mourning”. I drank more heavily than I ever did before, routinely got shitfaced or even blacked out while on shift. I told people about the relapse, but the actual inebriation mostly went unnoticed.

christmas eve: after convincing J to come spend christmas with my family, got drunk again, we got in some sort of argument. I don’t remember.

christmas morning: J left as soon as possible.

the blurry period between christmas and mid-January 2020: 

more drinking at work, and a peak in the mouse and rat problem my workplace had been managing badly for several months. saw and heard three tiny, dying, bloody mice on two separate sticky traps (two different days). on a slow ~pasta night~, knocked back a couple of drinks so I could ask one of the cooks at the pasta buffet to leave his post and euthanize the second and third mouse. which he did as humanely as possible -- with a shovel. at this point I wrote a letter to my GM telling him how unacceptable it was to make his hormonal, post-abortive employees deal with sentient animals in their dying agonies, and could he please come up with a different pseudo-solution. about a week later, he came up to me and, with great diplomacy and tact, told me to shove it up my ass.

powdered bait laced with rat poison was placed on the floor in and around the bar and kitchen. I called the health inspector, who brought the hammer down on both the poison and the sticky traps. the poison was cleaned up (part of that job went to yours truly, with no protection) as were some but not all of the sticky traps

I developed a small crush on a long-time coworker (cook #1) who began behaving in what I assumed was meant to be a flirtatious way (eye-fucking, going out of his way to talk to me in a way he hadn’t before, etc). this included some pointed questions about my mental health (the abortion and the relapse were public information at this point). bizarrely, he refused to tell me anything personal about himself. he started dating one of the banquet girls. he eventually told a mutual friend (cook #2, and our shovel-killer from above) that he “got [a] vibe” that I “wanted to fuck” but (as cook #2 gleefully reported to me) made a face and expressed disgust at the possibility of ever being involved with me in that way. (WHY ASK ME ABOUT MY FUCKING ABORTION THEN, YOU WEIRDO)

cook #2 started trying to fuck me. I did not reciprocate. he then told me he thought I was a “six” and that he wasn’t interested. a few weeks later he tried to fuck me again

early january 2020: got both a yeast infection and bacterial vaginal infection

january 6: J had a grand mal seizure on my kitchen floor. I had never seen a seizure and the tremors were so severe that my dad, who had seen many, thought he may also have been having a stroke (turned out, just a seizure). he was hospitalized overnight and kicked to the curb -- but the process was begun to get him back into rehab

january 7 (?): employee gift exchange at work. I was on shift and wasn’t participating, but there weren’t a lot of customers and my coworkers asked me to come join them. there were five-gallon buckets of old sangria to which we were given unlimited access (and remember that I was the bartender, so I took the trips to the fridge and back). I blacked out. cook #2 called my mother and I vaguely recall getting in her van.

the days following that “party”: cook #2 and several other coworkers told me I “didn’t seem that drunk,” ie was not a horrible embarrassment. however, cook #2 told me that I’d made out with him. then I started to hear rumours that I and a third cook (cook #3) had disappeared for half an hour to “go have sex”. let me be graphic for a moment: I was wearing a panty-liner that night because the spotting from the abortion hadn’t stopped, I had a yeast infection, and I hadn’t trimmed my pubic hair in about a month -- no matter how drunk I was, I cannot see myself agreeing to take my pants off around a random coworker. someone told me that I had a cheeseburger in my hand when we disappeared and was still eating it when she saw me again so she doesn’t think anything happened -- but I was suspiciously sore the next day. was it the yeast infection or was I sexually assaulted? I don’t know because I was blacked out and I never asked cook #3

january 10: actual staff holiday party. cook #3 introduced me to his long-time girlfriend. we all smiled and shook hands.

mid-january: mac miller’s circles album dropped. I decided I wanted to live. I continued to drink until the end of february, but stayed sober for much longer periods between much shorter binges

late january: I put in my two-weeks’ notice at the golf course and borrow some money from my dad. stinky came to live with us.

february 1: k, stinky and me moved into a small house my parents’ church is renting

most of february: fighting, gossiping, and faction-forming in my AA homegroup, culminated in a member being expelled and a series of “group conscience” meetings which involved yelling, fighting and crying. a relatively new arrival to our group (but a longtimer in the program) started to power-grab, which wouldn’t have fazed me except that she started openly singling me out as a “newcomer” whose vote did not count. this despite other members relapsing in the same period I did, and said power-grabber having been in attendance at my fucking cake five months previous. things got awkward.

mid-february: J went back to rehab

also mid-february: I got pulled over driving drunk in washington state. ironically, the confidence and ease I got from the alcohol kept me from being rude and short with the officer as I usually am, and he told me in a very friendly way that the speed limit would increase by 10 mph a little further down the highway, so perhaps I was confused, and I should take care out there. no ticket. a sign from god?

also mid-february: I got formally assessed for ADHD and tried ritalin for the first time. this did not end up working out.

mid-february: I was invited to dinner by the much older man who does the irrigation on the golf course, through one of the gardeners, a woman a few years younger than me with an established father-daughter type relationship with the irrigation guy. the three of us ate dinner at his house, and she proceeded to pass out from drinking too much. irrigation guy took the opportunity to feel me up.

end of february: I took my last drink and decided to start applying for jobs

also end of february: my ADHD symptoms as well as my anxiety began to spike, throwing a wrench in my resume-writing and hand-shaking plans

march: something else threw a wrench in my hand-shaking plans, as it did with all of yours. it goes without saying that I have been terribly anxious. the upside is that I know for certain that the abortion was the right idea.

also march: I switched to vyvanse and began to see better results.

mid-march, at the very beginning of shut-downs where I live: I see irrigation guy again and he takes the opportunity to pat my ass. 

end of march: J relapsed in rehab, was discharged and will see at least a ninety-day delay in his plan to complete the program and then get into secondary housing. he was briefly hospitalized, during which time the doctors did so little for him that he would have literally been just as well off in a drunk tank. service canada lost some of his paperwork so he still doesn’t have his medical EI money.

yesterday: J moved into my shed. he spoke to his counsellor, who will try to get him into a recovery house. I am confident that some things, particularly his EI money, will work out very soon. but whatever happens I have felt a reduction in the second-hand stress. as I said, and now he agrees: it’s a pretty nice shed.

[bregjetokorea]

1. Why I decided to keep a travel blog

20 September, 2019

안녕하세요! Welcome to blog page and, more specifically, welcome to my first post! You’re either here because you know me in person or because you know me form twitter or you just randomly found this blog which is probably the coolest way so welcome!! Anyways, let me first introduce myself!! My name is Bregje, I am a 21-year-old student from a small village in the south of the Netherlands. Starting Spring 2020, I will be spending a semester abroad at a South Korean university. As I’m writing this I’m still in the application phase and have yet to be selected into a university (which is a lot more nerve wrecking than I thought it would be). I know you might think it’s perhaps too early to start writing and honestly it might be but there’s not really a different way to deal with my excitedness right now. And it makes sense too because the main reason for creating this blog is to document the entire process of going abroad and I think the preparations just as well play an important role in this process. I’m either way suuuuper excited to start sharing my experiences with you.

Disclaimer: I am not a writer!! I mean I write and I have whole conversations I’ve imagined while I’m in the shower or in bed or supposed to be paying attention to my classes. For my current internship I even am writing blog posts and I have written research articles for university activities. But I am not a creative writer. I once took one (1) creative writing seminar in my English course in which the student teacher told me I should “just describe the little pictures in my head” to which my immediate response was “what” but what I really meant was yeah but how do I make it good?

I constantly go through phases of wanting to reinvent myself. Not in the slight I want to be a better person or start eating breakfast every morning, but in the I’m going to actually become a morning person, lose all the weight I gained in summer break, become the human incarnation of Hera (what a mood), be mysterious/cool/adorable/intelligent/snarky, and either become a master artist, singer, etc. Point is, I am none of those things and to be completely frank I don’t think I’ll ever be. I’m not sure I even want to be. But since I also have no idea what I do want and I’m in a constant state of existential crisis I look up ways to do these things I say I want to do but never start.

Ever since bullet journals became a thing I started one but that didn’t really work out (as probably is the case for 90% of people who start bullet journaling). I figured I might take up normal journaling because it’s supposed to be calming and helpful and blah blah. Also, journals are gorgeous and again it’s my dream to suddenly become very good at different styles of art and making things esthetically pleasing (I’m pointing at all of my university friends who know how passionate I am about this). Summer 2018 I actually invested in one of those fancy Leuchtturm1917 journals you see all over journaling-Tumblr and I told myself that I would write in it every day starting when my second year of my studies began. Surprisingly I kept my word and did this for a good nine months. But you know, the content got quite boring soon as you probably can imagine me writing mostly about school. My friends were always asking me if they could read in it but I figured it was for the sole reason of it looking so neat and pretty (so at least one of my goals was actually achieved). The thing is, when I wrote I simultaneously imagined myself as this future Anne Frank and imagined everything I’m writing as if it were the narration of some 2000s era rom-com. I know I was just writing for me but I really got sick of it and, also, yes, I am indeed that cringey. I’ve tried to start a journal multiple times for other purposes, mainly to document my Korean learning. But what keeps happening is, I buy myself a nice notebook and I always write a single entry and then never am sure how to continue or I’ll get bored.

The thing is, I really do think it’s valuable to write down my experiences. It’d be nice to have something to remember even if it isn’t as esthetically gorgeous as my imaginary travel journal that is somehow filled with impeccable drawings of buildings and animals and people. If anyone is wondering, I did indeed succumb to my urge to buy yet another notebook to chase this weird obsession with being good at doodling and now have a blank sketchbook at my disposal. Best 4 (it was 5) euros I’ve spent at Flying Tiger. The thing about writing in a journal is that it requires writing. And I’m the slowest writer in the world (I NEED my handwriting to be pretty) and also I get very self-conscious about my penmanship. My sarcastic thoughts seem really forced and even though every other word I say is “shit” or “fuck” it seems wrong to write down curse words in pen and my hand starts cramping and I’m three thoughts ahead while my hand is still seven sentences behind and just gaaaaah. So I figured that if I really did want to keep a log of my travel experiences I might as well type them and honestly it’s about damn time that I actually use my Tumblr account so here we are. 

I still imagine a rom-com narrator type voice as I type this and I definitely imagine someone maybe reading this in the future (and then my anxiety kicks in a little because the thought of someone reading this and not liking it??? devastating. But maybe I shouldn’t have put my diary on the fucking Internet). I told myself my first post would be the whole “why am I doing this” in case I need a reminder 20 years down the road. Honestly, I feel ready to burst with the things that have not even happened yet and part of me wants to make this sorted by topic while another part of me wants to document by day but thus far both of those ideas are failing and this will probably be a mishmash of my experiences and memories/thoughts as I think of them. 

Soooo, we’ve now reached the end of this post and I feel the familiar anxiety of being unsure of how to end it. So I’m sorry if it’s a little awkward, you should definitely get used to that. My next post and all the rest of them will be more structured and actually talk about Korea (I guess that’s why you’re here in the first place I’m sorry) so there’s a lot to look forward to. Thank you for reading this far oh and please stick around!