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natsubeatsrock · 4 years

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The Rewrite of Fairy Tail: Bonus (What If? #10)

What if Irene helped with the Dragon Slayer project?

This is another one of those ideas that I thought up and near immediately dismissed as possible for the official rewrite but hold onto for this series. I love that I have an outlet for these ideas because many are interesting and worth considering. I may not be able to make them work in the main rewrite, but I want to flesh them out a bit.

I'm going to start where I usually end up and explain why this is only a "what if" scenario. If Irene is a part of this plan, effectively she's not a part of Spriggan 12. It's likely she's no longer able to use dragon powers, not that this is a bad thing. Depending on how I do this, she doesn't get married to her husband and Erza isn't born. I have to account for that by either having the entire Eclipse Plan happen before Erza is born or work around the barrier in Fantasia, which also sunk the idea involving Erza's alternate origin I discussed earlier. It would be hard to fit this within the main rewrite of the series.

I say this now so that it's clear that I recognize this is likely impossible to fit in any of this within this rewrite. And because I know that to be obvious, I’m able to let loose with this. I don't have to try hard to work this scenario to seem possible. I can embrace the wacky nature of the scenario.

Now, the reason behind this goes back to much of my changes to the Eclipse Project. As you know, Anna is one of the main people behind the plan. However, this plan is dependent on the Dragon Slayers not gaining the Dragon Seed. The reason this works in the rewrite is partially because of Irene's incomplete work to fix the issue. They are connected through their time at Mildian Academy.

But, what if, instead of sending her research, she abandons the throne and goes into hiding with Anna?

The basic idea is that, as soon as Irene feels the signs of the Dragon Seed, she leaves the palace with whatever notes she has on the subject and tries to find Anna. When she does, she finds out that Anna is working on the Eclipse Project and Irene decides to help her with it. Not only does she want to stop the disease for herself, but she also doesn't want that to be an issue for others, especially the next generation of slayers.

Without pressure from persecution, they're able to figure out the solution is enchanting the dragon's entire being into a slayer, as opposed to just their powers. The downside is that it all but burns out the life force of the dragons. However, this enchantment can be broken by the dragons in case of an unforeseeable emergency (i.e. Face).

While they're not able to stop the Acnologia crisis, they can help Irene. She is reunited with Belserion and can rid herself of the Dragon Seed. The original plan is to have her and Anna teach the slayers what they need to know. That is to say, both Irene and Anna go through the Eclipse Gate with the Dragon Slayers. Of course, they go past the gate, the slayers go missing, and things happen similar to how you’d expect.

And Erza? In canon, Erza was conceived before the Dragon Seed took effect and Irene was aware of her pregnancy around the time it did. For our sake here, whereas she might be less inclined to want her child, Anna encourages to stay with the pregnancy. I say her child because this child isn't necessarily Erza. (Although, the prospect is tempting as another hypothetical scenario.) What happens is that Irene's child is part of a long line of enchanters and enchantresses, not unlike the Heartfilia Kozern with Celestial Spirit wizards. Ultimately, one of Erza's parents becomes the inheritor of Irene's power and status in canon and Erza keeps most of her backstory intact.

Wacky, right? But considering I've talked through that, I want to go through some of the reasons this is an attractive idea.

The most important reason someone would be attracted to this idea is making Irene a good person. In canon, and especially in my rewrite, her turn to evil wouldn't happen if the world was a bit kinder to her. If we put Irene in a better set of circumstance she can have a better outlook on her life and see her plight in a better light. Namely, she's able to save the world doing what she has always wanted to do.

In a more cynical sense, you deal with many of Irene's issues by pushing them onto someone else. Irene's pregnancy is less of a strain on a reader's suspension of disbelief considering it's not over centuries. She doesn't gain the powers of a dragon. Most other issues she might have in Fairy Tail canon would be foisted onto her descendants. In all likelihood, somewhere between then and Erza's parents being born, they end up having a similar view of Irene as Zeref worshippers have of Zeref. (i.e. incredibly reverent, but skewed towards their evil practical uses)

A fun reason might be to have Anna and Irene get together either before or after the jump. I mean, it's not necessary, but neither are most ships. It's not like this couldn't have happened if the scenario was just right and this would make quite an interesting ship dynamic. If you're worried about the connection to Lucy, just say Anna has a sister who stays behind and they're the one who passes the notes and genes. I say this as someone who's not even terribly excited by the ship itself. (As if the only ships in the rewrite I want to happen are the ones I care about.)

While I can't see this idea working for my purposes, this isn't a terrible idea. Irene gets to work on the side of good and continues to do what she loves. Funny how this is kind of a happier twist on my other "what if" involving Irene. Here she works with others for the good of all, as opposed to working with Zeref for her good. Where in this scenario she cares about creating a future her child can live in, she doesn't care about her child's future as long as it benefits her in the other.

Based on Part 23

#irene belserion #erza scarlet #the rewrite of fairy tail #what if 10 #think of this as part 2 #of a 2 part set of irene what ifs #part 1 being the one before this #the next actual part of this series #is coming before halloween #i hope

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blessed-but-distressed · 5 years

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#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

***

also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 1 of 2. We’ll get there when we get there.

***

Emma

It had been building for weeks. Months, really.

It began with a series of fences up on the Castle Esplanade, robbing the selfie-stick set of their outlook towards Arthur’s Seat. Before long it became a full-blown construction site, scaffolds looming up on either side of the tarmac like a bad omen.

Then came the anti-terrorist bollards on the Mile, at once ugly and terrifying in their design. By the time the placards went up at the tail end of July, you could feel it in the air, like an encroaching thunderstorm.

August.

For as long as she’d lived in Edinburgh, Emma had heard the war stories.

A bloody nightmare, was how Killian had once phrased it. Imagine, if you will, if every insufferable wanker in London with even the slightest dramatic inclination took it upon himself-

Or herself, Tink had interrupted.

Or herself, he’d amended, with a roll of his eyes, to decamp 400 miles up the East Coast line, en masse. And not just for a weekend, either. An entire month. And then imagine they proceed to spend that time putting on dodgy comedy shows, getting pissed as newts, and trying to get off with each other.

Don’t forget the inflated prices, Will had cut in.

The traffic, Tink lamented.

Hipsters with posh accents taking up all the seats in your local, Will added mournfully.

The flyers, Killian sighed. At that, the other two groaned.

So it’s busy? Emma had asked.

Aye, Swan, Killian had replied, a weary glint in his eye. It’s busy.

***

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe them, exactly. She’d seen the crowds at Christmastime, swelling up around the markets in Princes Street Gardens. She’d stared the drunken aftermath of Hogmanay in the face, and lived to tell the tale. She knew busy.

The Festival was, well… most days it wasn’t unlike navigating the Battle of Thermopylae. Every major thoroughfare, every centrally located eatery turned into a desperate crush of bodies, all attempting to coexist in too little available space. And there on the periphery the thespians lay in wait, ready to exploit any signs of weakness.

The first few days, she took every flyer on offer. It was the polite thing to do. But as her bag, and the crowds swelled, she was forced to reassess. By week’s end Emma learned to do as the locals did, keeping her head down, headphones in, and her hands stuffed in her pockets at all times.

So when August, the man, promised Emma he could sneak her into the green room at the Book Festival, she took her chance to escape the rabble.

Compared with the madness up on the Mile, the Book Festival in Charlotte’s Square was an oasis of calm. The crowd skewed older, and it showed. They sat drinking up the sun in plastic lawn chairs, whiling away the hours until the next panel or signing with the unhurried air of the newly retired. Yet even as she sipped her overpriced plastic cup of gin, Emma felt content.

It was summer. She was on vacation. And she was one Q & A session away from having her apartment all to herself again.

“Emma!” Her houseguest fell onto the grass beside her, spilling half of his gin in the process.

“You got them?” Emma asked, leaning over to top up his drink with some of hers.

Taking a few surreptitious glances in either direction, August unzipped his jacket, and tossed something into Emma’s lap. “I’m a man of my word.”

Emma wouldn’t go quite that far, but she snatched it up anyway. It was a sweater, pale blue with a prominent STAFF designation across the back. Her ticket into the green room. “And where did you get that? Did you slip some poor underpaid usher a tenner, or something?”

August just tapped the side of his nose, and smiled his usual mysterious smile.

Tamping down her urge to kick him, Emma sighed and pulled the sweater over her head. It was a little big on her, but not comically so. She rolled up the sleeves, and waved a little to get August’s attention.

“What do you think? Do I look like I’d volunteer at a Book Festival?”

“No,” he replied, without looking at her. “And I think your columnist just came out of the Zadie Smith signing. Kevin?”

She squinted against the sun, to where the crowd was pouring out from the Signing Tent. Sure enough, there was a familiar monochromatic figure loping his way across the square. It’d been more than a month since she’d seen him, but if the signature walk hadn’t given him away, the outfit would’ve. Who else would insist on black leather in the middle of summer?

“Killian,” Emma corrected automatically, already regretting rising to the bait.

August knew full well who Killian was. He’d Facebook stalked him the same as Ruby had. He read his columns religiously, picking them apart in their group chat with the zeal of a literature major on Adderall. He just liked being a dick.

As they emerged from the throng, Emma saw the petite woman at Killian’s side, matching his stride in impressively tall heels.

How does she walk in those things? Emma wondered to herself. But before she could voice this aloud, August was already on his feet.

“I’m going to go say ‘hi’.” There was a twinkle in his eye, one she didn’t much like the look of.

“August...” Emma gave a low warning, but it was too late. He’d already passed her the last of his drink, and disappeared across the square.

Lord help her.

Downing the last of the gin, Emma straightened her sweater one last time and went after him.

***

August wasn’t famous, exactly. His debut, a semi-autobiographical account of his early twenties backpacking through South East Asia, had made some waves when it first came out. There’d been movie interest. A profile in the New Yorker. Everyone was a sucker for that foster-kid-made-good fairytale.

But when he switched focus to fantasy fiction, his agent jumped ship. Likewise, most of his readership. These days, he was what Emma might charitably call a “midlist author.” Consistent, but not exactly setting the world on fire. Mostly, he survived under the radar, letting the royalties from his successful debut prop up his middling career. But every once in a while, he’d run into a fan in the wild, and things would get... strange.

When Emma finally caught up to August, she came to two sudden realizations;

On closer inspection, the woman with the impressive ability to navigate across grass with spike heels was none other than Belle. Librarian Belle. As in, I-really-like-sad-songs-and-married-a-complete-douchebag Belle.

Belle was staring at August with the kind of gobsmacked, I-just-swallowed-a-goldfish expression that could only mean one thing: She was a fan.

“You know August Booth?” Belle shout-whispered to Killian. The hand clinging tightly to Killian’s bicep might’ve stirred Emma’s interest, if she didn’t think it was all that was keeping the girl upright.

Killian seemed entirely puzzled. “Err… in passing?” He looked from August to Emma, searching for a lifeline.

“You’re a Swords of Storybrooke fan, I take it?” Emma asked, helpfully.

Belle seemed to shake herself a little. “Emma! Hi!” She reached across to give her a one-armed hug, the best she could do with the books still cradled against her chest with her other hand.

“Are you kidding? I’m in love with those books! I have the last line from Good Form tattooed on my-” She trailed off abruptly, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” she said, turning again to August. “You must get that all the time.”

“Not as often as I’d like,” he said with a flash of teeth. “Always nice to meet a fan. It was Belle, wasn’t it?” Emma saw the flash of recognition cross his face, as he matched the name with the story. “You’re a friend of Ruby’s, right?”

“Ruby? Ruby Lucas? Uh, yeah. We dated. Sort of. You know her?”

“We go back a ways. Do you like gin, Belle?” he asked, coaxing her closer to the bar. “I heard they’ve got some here that tastes like Earl Grey…”

It took Emma a moment to realize she’d been abandoned. Alone. With Killian Jones. Exactly as August, that slimy son of a bitch, had intended.

To his credit, Killian looked similarly startled, trying and failing to cover it with a casual scratch behind his ear. It was just a small thing, but it killed her.

“Sooo…” he began, never one to leave a silence unfilled, “Been a while…”

5 weeks, not that she was counting.

“Not that I blame you for avoiding me, mind...” he added.

“I wasn’t-” Her first instinct was denial, but she swallowed it back down. He knew her better than that. “Yeah, okay, I was, a bit. Sorry. I just needed…”

“Space,” Killian finished for her.

“Yeah. Space.”

The smile they shared was fragile. Precious. She wanted to tell him she’d meant to call. That she’d had to fight off tears the whole time she’d read through his latest column. She wanted to tell him what it had meant to her.

Instead, she just said the first stupid thing to pop into her head.

“Sorry, I think August just stole your date.”

“Date?” Killian looked back to where Belle and August had disappeared, and it dawned on him. “Belle?” His laugh was incredulous, if Emma was any judge. “Err… no. We just kind of met in the line.”

“To Zadie Smith, right?”

“Aye.” He held up the autographed copy of her latest, before tucking it back under his arm. “Elsa’s a big fan. Her birthday’s coming up, so-”

She felt a prickle of attraction and hated herself for it. Just because he was a good brother-in-law, it didn’t mean she had to let her guard down again. Ted Bundy had probably been a great brother-in-law too.

“She’s coming home soon?” Even as strained as things had been, he’d been unable to keep the implosion of his home life entirely to himself.

“Next week. Let the boys settle back into things before school goes back.”

“And things with her and Liam are…?” She let her words trail off, not wanting to overstep.

“They’re… I don’t know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “They’re talking now, at least. These long, overwrought transatlantic Skype conversations that I pretend very hard not to overhear. It’s a start, I suppose.”

Emma shrugged in agreement. As thoughtful responses went, it fell short of the mark. But what did she know about fixing a broken marriage? She’d had one functional adult relationship in her entire life, and she hadn’t even made it through the entire proposal before she’d cut and run.

“So you’re working here?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?” She looked down, confused, only to realize she was still wearing her baby blue STAFF sweater. “Oh, this? No, this is stolen. Or borrowed? You know what? I’m not really sure on the specifics.”

“Oh..kay?” Amusement was definitely winning out over his confusion.

Emma shrugged. “August said he’d sneak me into the Green Room. This is part of my cunning disguise. Pretty convincing, huh?”

“You know they check lanyards at the door, right?”

She didn’t. Fucking August.

“There is, of course, another way in…” He tried for his usual irrepressible swagger, and it rang a bit hollow to Emma’s ears. But he was trying.

“Oh, is there?” she asked , crossing her arms sullenly over her chest.

He nodded, eyes growing brighter as they fell into a more familiar rhythm. “A secret way. Only known to the chosen few…”

Emma shot him a flat look.

With a grin and a flourish, he pulled a lanyard from his pocket, and held it out for her inspection.

It was identical to his in every way, right down to the Saorsa logo stamped on the back.

“Our photographer never made it, so I had a spare. What do you say, Swan? Want to ditch that awful jumper and join the big leagues?”

Emma cocked her head, considering this proposal. ”Would I actually have to take photographs?”

“If you like. But you’d definitely have to hold the camera. Authenticity and all that.”

“And we’d breathe the same air as actual famous authors?” She was kidding, but only a little.

“Breathe the same air, eat the same Chocolate Digestives. We could even talk to a few, if you like.” He shrugged. “That’s kind of why I’m here.”

Somehow, that trumped her original plan of playing the wallflower while August caught up with his cadre of fellow fantasy authors.

She didn’t say anything, but Killian must’ve already intuited her answer, because he gently pulled the lanyard from her grasp, and slipped it over her head with a smirk.

“Congratulations, Dr Swan. You’re now a proud member of the fourth estate.” He held out a hand. “Shall we?”

Emma looked down at the proffered hand and hesitated.

It was just a hand, and it wasn’t. Because here was the truth: Emma had started to trust Killian Jones. Started to lean on him. Confide in him. And even now, after he’d kicked the metaphorical chair out from under her and shown he was capable of being a complete ass when the mood struck, she still wanted to.

It was a hand, but it was also a second chance.

And maybe it made her weak, but Emma reached out and took it.

***

I can’t believe I met a Pulitzer Prize winner! ES

I can. You only made me take twenty pictures of the two of you together. KJ

Funny. ES

Not a hardship, I can assure you. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. It was good to see you, even if only for a wee bit. KJ

Huh. Sincerity. Not sure what to do with that. ES

I’m trying a new thing, where I occasionally let the people in my life know that I actually appreciate their company. KJ

And how’s that working out for you? ES

Will is now convinced I harbour a dreadful crush on him, and Liam asked me if I had a concussion. Soo… I’d call it a work in progress ;-) KJ

Good to see you too. ES

***

August’s Q & A went better than expected, if you didn’t count the guy at the front whose question was more of a diatribe, really, about all the things he would’ve done differently.

There was always one.

But on the whole, the genuine fans outnumbered the assholes, and it took a good two hours to finally extricate August from his adoring masses, after the fact.

He was already flushed, drunk on ego and free booze when he finally emerged from behind a tent flap, and pulled Emma into a lazy hug.

“Where to next, oh tour guide extraordinaire?” he asked with hot gin breath.

Emma grimaced, and held him at arm’s length. “There’s no next. You have a train to catch, remember?”

“Last train for London isn’t for another three hours,” August shrugged. “Still time for a last bit of revelry. Didn’t you promise you’d actually take me to a Fringe show?”

She had, but she’d also counted on August being distracted by his own brilliance long enough for her to welch out of that particular contract. The last thing she felt like doing was wading back into the madness of the Old Town.

“It’s kind of last minute…”

But August already had his phone out, scrolling through the app and Emma knew a lost cause when she saw one.

He looked up suddenly, eyes lit with a tantalizing prospect. “How far’s the Tron?”

***

During the semester, The Tron was a studenty kind of hang out. Plenty of drink specials, and always a free table downstairs. She usually avoided the place, none too eager to bump into her students during their messy nights out. Least of all during hers.

During the Festival, however, it was a very different beast.

Gone were the baby faced clientele, and reasonable prices. It was standing room only, and foreign accents were more common than not. In this crowd, she might’ve been just another festival-goer, at a loose end between shows.

Even with having the push through the late afternoon crowds on the Mound, they still made it with ten minutes to spare before August’s chosen comedian started his set downstairs. She sent him down to save them some seats, and after a lot of pushing, shoving and gratuitous cleavage displays, managed to attract the attention of the nearest bartender.

“Alright, love?” he asked, with little better than a leer.

She ordered a pint for herself, and a tap water for August.

“That’s £10.”

Emma nearly swallowed her tongue. “For a pint? That’s extortion!”

The bartender shrugged, snatching the bill from her hand. “That’s August.”

She turned around, drinks in hand and the crowd surged around her, gunning for her vacated space by the bar. Some of her lager slopped onto the shoes of the guy in front of her, and she was halfway through her apology before she took a look at his face, and froze.

Graham.

Her Graham. Standing in The Tron. And decidedly not somewhere in Northern Ireland, studying the possible ramifications of Brexit on the Irish Border. Contrary to the text he’d sent her two hours ago.

“Emma, hey!” the words were friendly, but there was no disguising the tension in his jaw.

He was not pleased to see her.

And when Emma looked behind him, and saw the dark haired young woman whose hand was clutched tightly in his, she realized why. It wasn’t just the white knuckled hold they had on each other, so they wouldn’t lose each other in the crush.

It was the matching silver wedding bands.

Mother. Fucker.

Emma barely had time to process before she was tipping her overpriced pint down his shirt. All £10 of it.

The crowd of people around them suddenly went deathly quiet, so quiet Emma could hear the rush of her own blood inside her ears. She saw at least one person raise a camera phone.

Graham, himself said nothing. Even as his companion, his wife, stared between the two of them, dumbfounded.

“Sorry,” Emma said, with the least amount of sincerity she could muster. “Really crowded in here, huh?”

The crowd parted for her as she left. Someone even slow clapped. It was all she could do to keep her face level until she was outside on the Mile, already dialing August’s number.

***

August never did end up catching his train that night. Instead they went back to Emma’s flat, and tore through Emma’s entire cache of American candy while bingeing episodes of Bake Off.

It was only around 3am that she finally let him lead her into her bedroom, tucking her in like she was still a kid. Like nothing had changed in the last twenty years.

“You don’t need to say it,” she said, as he settled on top of the covers beside her, both of them staring at the ceiling.

“Say what?” he asked, leaning over to turn off her lamp.

“That my taste in men sucks.”

August snorted, settling back down beside her. “Well, you said it.”

“You’re right,” Emma admitted to the dark. “And you were right about Walsh. I didn’t love him. I just kind of… got used to him. And it’s not the same thing.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

She turned over then, so she could see the vague outline of his face in the near darkness. “Have you told Jefferson how you feel, yet?”

They’d never discussed it. Not explicitly. But from the moment August had introduced his editor into their little group, Emma had known. And it didn’t seem to matter that Jefferson was a widower. Or a single father. There was something there, something between them as they traded insults and bickered over line edits. Something more than colleagues, or even friends. Something rare.

The silence was telling, as August regrouped.

“I wrote him a letter, once,” he confessed. “I was going to submit it with my finished manuscript. Right on the last page. But I ripped it up before I could give it to him.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to snort. “We never stood a chance, did we?”

“Some kids get trophies. Foster kids get abandonment issues.” It was a recitation. A line she’d heard before.

They knew the truth of it better than anyone.

#cs ff #cs au #findemmaswanafriend #cs fic

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nadziejastar · 5 years

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Axel’s Moral Relativism

“No apology?” He with the red hair—Axel stood up, his mouth turned down at the corners, and looked down at Roxas who still sat in bed.

“I shouldn’t have to. The one showing up all of a sudden when others are waking up is in the wrong.”

“Is that how to treat a best friend on coming back from completing a long mission!”

“I don’t recall becoming your best friend.”

Roxas got off the bed, and, ignoring Axel, turned his back and put on a black coat.

This is a passage from the short story called “Roxas: Somewhere in Time”. It was included with KH2FM+ and details a little bit of how Roxas and Axel got along together in the organization. Xion wasn’t included for obvious reasons. I got the sense that Nomura took Roxas in a slightly different direction to make him more like Ventus in Days.

Roxas was a little more cynical and introspective in this short story compared to Days. But one thing remained the same. From the very beginning, Roxas was never meant to feel as strongly about being “best friends” as Axel did in KH2. He felt like Axel was being a bit pushy about that label and given their circumstances, I’d say he was completely justified in feeling that way.

Axel said ‘best friend’. But that’s only playing at being human; it’s a relationship that we, Nobodies without hearts, aren’t supposed to have. But, within the organization, I’ve become especially close to Axel—no, it’s a fact without mistake that we are closer than the other members, and I don’t really know how that relationship should be expressed.

And that was their relationship in a nutshell. They were especially close and had a very important relationship, but they still weren’t really best friends. I know I’ve talked about this before, but it ties into this subject. I’ve heard a lot of people say that they didn’t like 358/2 Days because of the constant “best friends” talk and because Axel seemed like a goody-two-shoes big brother, instead of the hardcore assassin he acted like in CoM. They couldn’t reconcile those two different portrayals.

Yes, “best friends” was mentioned over and over. Way more than with SRK or TAV. Compared to them, RAX didn’t even know each other for that long. It was supposed to feel forced. But, I don’t think that was a bad thing or that it lessened the importance of their bond. To the contrary, I actually thought their relationship was a lot MORE meaningful because they weren’t really Axel’s best friends. As an assassin, Axel had a very skewed sense of morality. And that’s what this post will be about.

“What are you trying to do? Are you thinking to use Naminé as a shield? That little girl doesn’t mean anything to me. I’ll just destroy her along with you. Get ready, Marluxia!” fired Axel, readying his chakrams.

Peculiar or not, she’s got nothing to do with me, or the Organization… I don’t think. It’s fine to destroy things that are in the way.

I definitely think Axel was always willing to do the dirty work for Saïx because he thought of Isa as his best friend. He never really cared about the morality of what he was doing. All that mattered was that he was doing it for the sake of his best friend.

Day 74: Xion's Face

Author: Axel

Honestly, I never got why Roxas was so crazy about Xion. I know they both joined up around the same time, and they're both rookies, but how do you get so close to somebody who hides their face all the time? Well, I saw it today. All of a sudden, No. XIV up and takes off...her hood. Xion is a girl, and she looks just like Naminé.

Roxas and Xion became his “best friends” because that changed when he met them. Especially after Castle Oblivion. Roxas was Sora’s Nobody and Xion looked just like Naminé. It made him question everything about the way he had been living.

“Your best friend?” Roxas shook his head furiously and grabbed Axel’s cloak. “Best friends are supposed to be honest with each other!”

He’s angry, Axel thought clearly. It really does make it seem like he has a heart. But if that’s all I can think of when he’s this upset, I really must not have one.

It’s important to emphasize that although Axel’s relationship with Roxas was pretty one-sided in KH2, it was kind of the opposite in Days. Roxas liked the idea of being best friends with him and Xion. Their relationship didn’t fall apart because Roxas was indifferent to their friendship. Axel did a lot of things to alienate Roxas after telling him they were best friends. Roxas felt betrayed. Axel did what he thought was the best thing for everyone’s sake. But Roxas was unable to understand that because Axel had a much less idealistic outlook on life than he did.

Still gripping Axel’s collar, Roxas shook his head with the emphatic refusal of a little kid. “No, you didn’t…” But he sounded uncertain as he said it, and his voice shrank even more. “We’re supposed to be best friends.”

Axel brushed Roxas’s hands from his collar. “This isn’t about friendship.”

Roxas raised his head. The glare in his blue eyes was sharp as a knife. Axel had never seen that from him before. His chest twinged, just a bit. He let out another sigh. “Listen, if that’s all, I gotta go.”

Roxas wilted again, and something in his expression weakened Axel’s resolve slightly.

I did it with the best of intentions, that’s all. For Roxas’ sake, for Xion’s sake, for the Organization’s sake---and for Isa’s sake. But more than anything, for my own sake.

He turned away from Roxas and made himself walk away.

Axel’s innocence had already been shattered a long time ago. He was used to dealing with the darker side of life. Due to his traumatic past, he had an amazing ability to emotionally detach himself from any given situation. It was a form of self-preservation.

After he left Roxas, Axel’s distracted wandering through the hallways came to a stop when he saw someone else.

He was probably waiting for me. Standing there against the wall with his arms folded was once my best friend—Saïx didn’t take his eyes off the ground to look at Axel.

“…You’re sure this is for the best?”

“Everything is back to normal. Of course this is for the best, isn’t it?”

The reason I’m unable to answer Saïx is probably because I depend on him, thought Axel.

“Xemnas has also been irritated at the recent changes in plan. Everything has to go back to normal, for the sake of our goal too… Lea.”

But from Roxas’s point of view, Axel seemed cold and heartless. He always said that Nobodies had no hearts and that they couldn’t feel things like fear or love. Naturally, Roxas thought he didn’t value their friendship as much as he did. And Axel did hide all of his true feelings, so I can’t blame Roxas for feeling that way.

But while Axel pushed Roxas further away, he really wanted to do what was best for him. He wanted to spare Roxas the pain that he went through. And at the same time, he was dealing with his inner conflict over his relationship with Saïx. He had a hard time coping with the huge rift between how he remembered their past compared to what he saw in the present. He had nobody to confide in about this.

“Come on, don’t look shocked,” Axel went on. “You already know you’re a replica. A puppet whose original purpose was to duplicate Roxas’s powers. If he’s getting weaker, and you’re getting stronger, maybe you’re taking a little more than you oughta be.”

He didn’t gloss over anything. Confronted with the plain truth, she looked away.

Right. I’m a puppet. Organization XIII built me. A doll to copy Roxas’s powers. But still…that’s not all I am. Axel doesn’t know the whole story. And maybe I don’t, either. What other secrets are hidden inside me?

“…What should I do, then?” she mumbled at the floor. She didn’t have the answer.

“I can’t make that decision. You’re no puppet in my book.” Axel took hold of her shoulders, and she turned up to him again. There was sincerity in his eyes and kindness. “You’re my best friend. Mine and Roxas’s. Got it memorized?”

Axel told Xion they were best friends, but at that point, he still thought it was better for her to not exist. He said they were best friends for her sake. And perhaps to assuage some of the guilt he felt over what he was planning to do, which she was oblivious to. Axel had no real advice for her. He didn’t expect her to exist for much longer and left it up to her to decide what to do. He felt bad about it, but he truly thought it was for the best that she disappear.

“Are you talking about destroying her?” Axel made no reply.

“Answer me!” he screamed, kicking the wall.

Axel still spoke quietly. “If somebody doesn’t, then you…won’t be you anymore.”

“I’ll always be me! Your best friend—just like Xion!”

But Axel shook his head. “Roxas—you’re missing the bigger picture.”

“Ugh, forget this.” Roxas kicked the wall again for good measure and started walking away. There was no point talking to Axel anymore. The Winner stick was still in his pocket. So much for giving it to Axel.

“Roxas!” He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to hear what anyone had to say anymore.

He kept all of this from Roxas. He knew he would never accept that his best friend needed to be destroyed for his own good. So he took the burden on himself to do it, knowingly destroying their friendship in the process.

Roxas no longer knew what to say to either of them. Why had Axel attacked Xion like that? He’d been for real. Serious enough that he almost seemed about to take her down for good. The thought made Roxas nervous. Axel wasn’t saying anything to him, either.

At first Axel took a rather pragmatic approach to the situation with Xion. He wasn’t happy about it and it wasn’t an easy decision or anything. But he did attack her and bring her back, with the intention of her being destroyed. Even when he fought her, he was ready to take her out permanently if it came to that. He didn’t like it, but he was able to set aside his feelings and do what he thought he had to do. He only changed his mind at the very end.

I don’t have a single friend in this place. All these people on my side—and his and the organization’s… But I don’t know if I can say that we’re really on the same side. I’m alone here.

Nostalgia… And memory. We are the ones who lost their hearts—the ones who are no one. Nobodies. Not light nor darkness—we live in the twilight.

Axel stopped outside the crystal ball room and took a deep breath.

Why are we here? What are we doing? No—why am I here?

Axel’s actions definitely demonstrated that he viewed Isa as his best friend above anyone else. He questioned why he was still in the organization after he killed Vexen.

It’s just like that back is rejecting me. And I’m realizing that my memories of the past are too different from the thoughts I’m having now.

Why the hell am I here? I don’t really know any more. What the hell do I want to do?

And he questioned it when Saïx said the organization didn’t need both Roxas and Xion. Saïx did not act like Axel’s friend, let alone his best friend. He was totally cold and often very cruel to to him. Axel felt rejected and alone when talking to Saïx. But he chose to stay in the organization. If he really wanted to, he could have left. But he never did.

“The time has come for us to move, it seems—”

Axel frowned at Xemnas’ words.

What if—I’d stopped Roxas properly, that time? If I’d told Roxas the entire secret, would it have turned out like this? But, I couldn’t betray the organization.

No—to be honest, I’ve already betrayed the organization. In that castle, I was the one who let Riku and Naminé meet, which made a big mess for the organization.

But, I didn’t complete the betrayal. I’m still uncertain. From the time I met my best friend Roxas, from the time spent in Castle Oblivion, I’ve continued to struggle with doubts.

Why am I here? What do I want? How can I become whole again?

Even now, he wasn’t sure.

After Xion disappeared, Roxas was the only one who helped Axel feel less lonely in the organization. But when Roxas left, he was still conflicted. It’s not that he was afraid to go against the organization. He just didn’t know what he truly wanted to do in order to be whole.

Today I have to destroy Roxas. I cannot betray the organization.

From the little shelf at his bedside, Axel took a white envelope, and looked at it vaguely for a while. Putting it in his pocket, Axel got up off the bed and left the room.

Maybe, this is the last time I’ll see Saïx, too. Thinking, Axel looked at the seated Saïx’s back.

“We’ve known each other for a pretty long time, haven’t we?” Ignoring Axel’s words, Saïx continued typing on the keyboard.

“Say something. Have you even thought that maybe I can’t erase Roxas?” Axel said, in a playful tone, and Saïx finally looked up. “It’ll be all right. ‘Cause I’m tough.”

“Saying stupid things,” said Saïx, smiling for just a second at Axel, puffing out his chest.

In the end, he decided he had to destroy Roxas. He joked about destroying Roxas. That’s how desperately he wanted to emotionally connect with Saïx, like when they were kids. I definitely could never see him joking about destroying Saïx to Roxas.

“I’m goooing.” Waving to Saïx, Axel disappeared.

The instant he transferred over, he closed his eyes for a moment at the dazzling sunset streaming through. Then he turned around dramatically, and confirmed it was Roxas.

“Look at what it’s come to,” Axel said. “I’ve been given some pretty nasty orders…to destroy you if you refuse to come back with me.”

I don’t think Axel truly thought it was funny, but I do think that he has been through so much trauma that he felt emotionally disconnected from everything, and developed a dark sense of humor. Immediately after that exchange, he appeared in front of Roxas and told him he was given the icky orders to destroy him.

Can I destroy Roxas? Probably not. But I know what I can’t do. Xemnas and Saïx probably knew that as well. Maybe we can disappear together from here and go somewhere.

And Axel genuinely wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it or not. He didn’t want to do it, and ultimately wasn’t able to, but he still came pretty close. He only changed his mind at the last minute, like with Xion. He was playing around with the idea that they could disappear together, but he only brought it up jokingly. After that, he tried to go back to the organization.

“No one would miss me,” I retorted, and started to walk away.

“That’s not true…,” Axel mumbled. “I would.” At the time, I pretended not to hear him. We Nobodies have no hearts. How would we be able to “miss” someone? But now, I understand how he felt.

Roxas flung Axel back with the Keyblades so that he fell to his knees. Roxas couldn’t bring himself to deal the final blow.

“Axel…”

That’s right—we were the only pair of best friends in the organization.

I got the sense that Axel was so convinced he didn’t have a heart because of all the things he had done as a Nobody. He was truly disgusted with himself after fighting Roxas. He said that Roxas had a next life because he was a sweet, innocent kid. He looked surprised that Roxas responded seriously to his suggestion to meet again in the next life, especially after what he just did to him. Roxas still cared about him and had sympathy for him.

“Axel…” The hostility had vanished from Roxas’ eyes.

I can’t find the spirit to fight this Roxas anymore. Here–there’s nothing to do but to fade away.

“Let’s meet again in the next life.” At those words spoken with just a hint of a smile, Roxas nodded quietly.

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting.” There was something funny about Roxas’s serious answer, and Axel laughed.

“Silly… you’d have a next life, but…” Axel said to Roxas–and his figure disappeared in the darkness of a portal he’d opened behind him.

Axel was aware that he just tried to murder that pure-hearted kid who once called him his best friend. Of course Axel thought he had no heart or a next life. He didn’t stop fighting Roxas because they were best friends. He stopped because he realized that he wasn’t Lea anymore. He no longer recognized himself and he was deeply ashamed.

“What were you trying to do?” Sora asked. For a moment, Axel didn’t reply. He kept staring into space as he did.

“…I wanted to see Roxas. He…was the only one I liked. When I was with him…he made me feel…like I had a heart…” Axel closed his eyes.

Somehow, he had the feeling that Roxas was close. Terribly close. Right beside him.

“I feel it…with you, too…” Then Axel weakly shook his head and returned his attention to Sora. “Kairi’s in the castle dungeon. Now go.”

Roxas and Sora made Axel feel like he had a heart, not because they were his best friends, or because he was in love with them. It was because he tried to harm them and they still showed him forgiveness and compassion.

“We don’t disappear… We’re only reborn,” Naminé murmured, perhaps to herself.

“I’m not like you and Roxas,” Axel said flatly. His hand holding the ice pop stick paused in midair.

“But—but you…” She looked down, clenching her fists.

“It’s because I don��t have a heart,” Axel went on. “I don’t want to disappear, but I’m not upset or sad about it.”

I think that played a huge role in why Axel put Roxas on such a pedestal in KH2. Roxas was the epitome of humanity to him. He wasn’t used to being around people who showed him empathy and friendship. Roxas genuinely cared about him in 358/2 Days. He was devastated when he thought Axel was terminated and would never see him again. And Axel repaid that kindness by trying to destroy him. Roxas treated Axel like a human worthy of friendship. He made him feel human, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“I think we all know, and you just don’t want to accept it,” Saïx remarked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“He might be forcing her…,” Roxas mumbled.

Saïx only snorted at him. “Hah! Your human-like way of thinking is so nauseating.”

But that was the only thing Roxas could think of. Xion wouldn’t betray the Organization…or her friends. Would she? He stared at the floor, his fists clenched at his sides. Were Nobodies and humans really all that different?

“You have to trust your partners,” said Roxas, flaring up. Then he raised his head to glare at Saïx. “Why is it such a crime to give each other the benefit of the doubt?!”

“Just stop, Roxas.” Axel restrained his arm. “Just, calm down a little.”

Unlike with Roxas and Xion, I don’t think Lea ever considered destroying Isa an option. If Isa ever had to be destroyed, Lea promised him that they’d go together. That’s how attached he was to Isa. They were best friends and inseparable. He put Isa ahead of everyone.

“Huh…you’ve got a point. So, okay, say you don’t need a heart for things to be important to you… Maybe the closest thing we Nobodies have is our pasts. It’s the memories that give things value.”

“Memories…,” Roxas mumbled at his lap. “Well, I don’t remember my past, so I guess that explains it.”

Axel pondered that for a few seconds before suggesting, “What about your present, though?” Roxas looked up. Somehow, he hadn’t expected to hear that from Axel.

“Wait, you’re right. I don’t want to forget about you or Xion.”

“See?” said Axel. “Everyone’s got things they wanna hang on to. Even us Nobodies.”

When asked what he couldn’t bear to lose, he didn’t say it was his friendship with Roxas or Xion. He knew Roxas valued the present more than anything, but Axel still would have chosen the past.

Axel didn’t waste a second grabbing his chakrams. But his body was reluctant somehow.

I don’t want to disappear… But still, it wouldn’t be so bad if I did. Not here.

Even when Saïx wanted him dead, Axel felt like he’d rather disappear than fight him. Saïx was stronger than him, and Axel never thought he could beat him. He was never going to destroy him or anything. But even fighting him in self-defense was enough to make Axel feel like disappearing—the one thing he dreaded more than anything.

This is a pretty overwhelming disadvantage, Axel thought. Well, I knew that before we started fighting. I can’t win against Saïx with my own strength.

Still, he refused to hesitate. He had to force this path open. He wanted…to find hope—the hope that Sora and Riku had.

Saïx gave him a cruel grin. “You will lose everything!” And then the Claymore pierced Axel’s chest.

I don’t want to disappear. I can’t disappear now. I shouldn’t have to disappear at all. Why am I doing all this? Who is it for? For Roxas… For Riku, for Naminé… And for myself. There are still things I should do. Things I have to do.

Axel was only willing to fight Saïx for Kairi’s sake. It wasn’t because they were best friends. He did it because it was the best thing for everyone. But he was envious of Riku and Sora because of the hope they had.

“Al said he wouldn’t rely on magic, right? I want to fix it for him, but you gotta respect your friend’s wishes.”

��Your friend’s… wishes…”

So, even if you mean for something to be for your friend’s sake, their wishes are still more important?

Lea and Isa promised to meet again in the next life. But even then, Lea changed his mind. Even if Isa disappearing was the best thing for everyone, and that was the decision he made himself, Lea didn’t care.

“That Genie person seemed very worried about that Al person. And then he said that you have to respect your friend’s wishes.” Xion bit her ice cream, swinging her feet.

Axel leaned his head to one side. “Your friend’s wishes, huh…”

It feels like I have heard that before, a long time ago, when I was human.

He was going to bring him back, whether he liked it or not---whether it was the right thing to do or not. He’d bring him back, even if he had to drag him. And I think that is how Lea developed such a skewed sense of morality, and why he was willing to do anything for Saïx, even the icky jobs. Lea refused to respect Isa’s wishes if it meant he had to sacrifice himself.

This is the way it has to go, Axel told himself, lying on his bed. This is the right course.

But he was swamped with misgivings, unable to accept his own decisions. How could he choose between Roxas and Xion? And yet, that was exactly what he’d been forced to do. Then Xion had walked away of her own accord.

Then again, this did little to alter the big picture. All it meant was that Xion would no longer be draining strength from Roxas. The plan would only suffer a slight delay in progress—nothing more. Although even that slight delay would let Roxas remain himself for a little longer.

Axel didn’t know what would happen. But he was glad, at least, for a little more time to think.

What will I have to do? What should I do?

His thoughts kept him awake for some time.

When Axel told Roxas that Xion needed to disappear for the greater good, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite. When Xion left on her own and Axel turned a blind eye, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite.

I promised Xion. I have to keep my word, don’t I? What Xion really wants—and what Roxas wants, too—is for the three of us to stay together. But there’s nothing I can do now to make that happen. So if I can at least keep my promise to her…that’s what I’ll do.

Axel didn’t let any of it show as he waited for Roxas to continue.

“You’re not really gonna do what Xemnas says…are you?” Roxas asked, still staring at the floor.

A tiny sigh escaped Axel. “I have to. Or else I won’t be safe, either.”

That was the harsh truth. And if he was gone, too, who would keep Roxas safe?

When Axel set out to destroy Xion after calling her his best friend, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite. When Axel thought he had to respect Xion’s wish to disappear, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite.

Kairi looked up at him then. “Aren’t you…a bad guy?”

“I’m not,” Axel replied, completely serious. “But not really a good guy, either.”

“This doggy likes you, though,” she pointed out.

Axel dropped his gaze, and indeed, Pluto was right there with his tail whipping back and forth.

“Just because dogs like someone doesn’t mean they’re a good person, y’know. Got it memorized?”

I got the sense that Lea was always willing to get his hands dirty for Isa’s sake, because he remembered him to be so selfless. I think Lea would have done anything for him. He would have eliminated anyone to save him. Roxas, Xion, Sora. Anyone.

Axel, what do you want to do?”

“Avoid being eliminated ideally.”

“So you’re offering me up to the organization?”

“…Well, you see any other options?” His expression was frozen in a forced smile.

He had no ideas. He didn’t know what to do. And he had no heart and thus no emotions to guide him, either.

I think Saïx was telling the truth when he said Axel changed. Their roles were reversed from the past. Axel was an assassin who was morally ambiguous. He said he didn’t believe anyone could say what was right or wrong, and he also didn’t consider himself a good person or a bad person.

“But this is for everyone’s sake.”

Everyone…? Who do you mean by everyone? Us? Or others?

“Don’t say selfish crap like that. Every last one of…”

“This is for the best,” Xion said.

I hate that sort of thing. There’s no such thing as ‘this is for the best’. There’s, I want to, and I don’t want to, that’s all. I learned that in my human time.

He was willing to do bad things to achieve his goals. He was desensitized to it. It’s what he had to do to survive in the organization. As long as he got what he wanted, nothing else mattered. But when he realized how much Isa had changed, Axel’s resolve to get his hands dirty wavered.

“The best thing…?” Naminé set her crayons down on the table, her gaze dropping as she thought for a moment, and then she smiled at him again.

“It’s the right thing.”

In response, Axel only leaned back and rocked in the chair again. She took up her crayons.

No one could know what was right or wrong.

Roxas and Kairi were what finally tipped him over the edge. He could no longer do what he knew was wrong. This is why I think Axel’s friendship with Roxas and Xion was so important to his development. It was so important exactly because they weren’t really his best friends. They offered something to Axel that he couldn’t have gotten from his real best friend.

“The dirty work doesn’t bother me,” Axel went on. “You just make for the top.”

There was nothing false in that, and he looked Saïx in the eye as he said it. Saïx stared hard back at him.

Right. We have our own agenda.

It’s interesting that Axel was so concerned with doing what was best for everyone in Days, considering he actually hated that type of thinking as a human. I got the sense that Isa acted as Lea’s moral compass during the experiments. There’s a reason Isa got possessed and Lea became an assassin, after all. And it wasn’t because Lea was a goody-two-shoes. He was a good person deep down. But he didn’t care what was best for everyone if it meant Isa had to die.

To suit the Organization, to suit Xion, to suit Roxas—to suit the world. I don’t give a crap about any of that any more. I use the Organization for myself. That hasn’t changed from the start. All that’s changed is for whose sake I do it for. Maybe he’d call it being a traitor. But, the world changes.

His best friend was more important to him than the world. But...Lea cared so much about him because he was the type of person who put others ahead of himself. It’s why Axel was willing to do all the dirty work for him.

Ansem quietly shook his head. “Naminé, Roxas, and Xemnas… The Nobodies of those with strong hearts are peculiar beings. My—that is, our theories proved fruitless. Coming into contact with a strong heart transforms a world. And not just worlds, but people themselves—and even Nobodies.”

Naminé, head lowered and hand extended with the ice cream for Riku, perked up upon hearing those words.

That’s it… Yes. The mystery of the heart. When we encounter someone special…the world changes. Our hearts change. Everything changes.

Axel needed to have Saïx act like a horrible person in order for him to rediscover his sense of morality. His loyalty to Saïx was holding him back. He grew tremendously as a character by refusing to do the wrong thing, even for his best friend. He stood on his own two feet, did the right thing, and earned his redemption. Ironically, his betrayal of Saïx was due to his loyalty to his memories of Isa. And betraying Saïx was the only way to eventually get Isa back.

#kh #kh meta #kh lea #kh isa #kh roxas #kh xion #isalea #akusai #kh axel #kh saix

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jj-lives · 6 years

Text

Unperfect Roommates - excerpt Waterfall - bmblb (little bit WR)

“We're here!” Ruby yells dashing off into the trees, leaving her ever present trail of rose petals behind for everyone to follow.

Weiss sighs loudly before picking up her pace. She's not about to run through the forest but you can tell she doesn't like Ruby being too far away. Their relationship is new to both of them and they’re still trying to figure out each others needs. It's been a constant battle of Weiss being very clingy and Ruby excitedly forgetting about her girlfriend’s need for reassurance.

“She's just eager to get there.” Weiss looks back over her shoulder at your voice. She seems slightly embarrassed that you've noticed her exasperation towards Ruby. You can sympathize with her, not having many friends yourself, when you are in the mood for company and no one is around or busy with other things- it sucks to feel like you've been forgotten.

“I know, it’s just…” her feet pause on the path allowing you to catch up. “I mean, she knows her semblance can carry more than just her. If she’s in such a hurry to get there than why not bring me along?” In a rare moment of wanting to console Weiss you reach out and place a comforting hand on her back. Pulling her along so her feet start moving you hold her in a half embrace. Weiss takes a minute to relax, knowing her anger at Ruby would only lead to an argument none of you want. Ruby didn't charge ahead maliciously. She hadn't forgotten Weiss behind on purpose after all. “It’s just, I kind of wanted her beside me when we got there. She's said how beautiful it is and how it's her favourite spot on Patch. I just wanted her beside me when I first experience it.” She growls slightly under her breath. “That makes me pathetic doesn't it?”

“No i-“

“Grab her hand next time.” Yang cuts you off. Weiss flinches and you can’t blame her, Ruby’s elder sister has been so silent during your hike you actually forgot she was there for a moment.

“Excuse me?” Weiss questions.

“Next time she’s all hopping on the balls of her feet, grab her hand.” Yang shrugs as she comes up on Weiss’ other side. “She’ll have no choice but to drag you with her.”

“I don’t think that’s the point.” You speak up In Weiss’ defense.

“Then what is the point?” Yang eyes you curiously. “I thought the point was Weiss wanted to be by Ruby’s side when we got there. That would accomplish that goal.”

“Ruby shouldn’t be running off leaving Weiss behind in the first place. That’s the issue.”

“Look, my little sister is easily excitable, she doesn’t always think every painfully minute detail through. So-“

“You’re saying Weiss is a minute detail?” You accuse heatedly.

Yang groans. “That is not what I’m saying. I’m ju-“

“Sounds like it to me.”

Yang glares at you, and you glare right back. She had no right stepping into your and Weiss’ conversation. She shouldn’t even be on this trip with you in the first place, and you would appreciate it if she would continue to remain as silent as she previously had been. Weiss side eyes you and Yang before carefully stepping forward, obviously not comfortable being the barrier keeping you both apart. Yang turns fully to face you and folds her arms across her chest.

“If you would let me finish a damn sentence,” she pauses, waiting for your rebuttal. You stay silent this time. “I’m just saying Ruby doesn’t think the way you two do. She acts and then thinks of the consequences later. She’s a pretty good strategist on the battlefield, but she’s shit when it comes to personal interactions.”

“That’s no excuse.” You argue. You know Ruby can be awkward meeting new people, but this isn’t the same thing. Weiss and Ruby are dating now and Ruby has to start making some concessions, she has to put some effort into this relationship.

“When she met you, when she met Weiss, she made a positive impression? You and Weiss were her friends right away?” Yang’s eyes are still heated but her voice has lost some of it’s bite.

A scoff is torn from your throat and you cant help your eyes rolling back in your head. “No, we were not.” You remember the arguments Ruby and Weiss used to have about leadership and responsibilities, the way you’d held a soft spot for Ruby’s romanticized view of the world while you secretly thought she was foolishly naive. You’d kept your distance from Weiss because of her prejudices of the Faunus and you’d kept Ruby at arms reach, no closer because her skewed view of the world, you thought, would bring your team down. You secretly thought Ruby was going to bring you down and you hate that Yang makes you remember that. It’s not something you’ve ever told any of your teammates and it’s something that you’ve tried not to think about in years. It is simply untrue. Ruby’s outlook was strength. It was a view in which everyone should try to see the world in. Seeing the world through Ruby’s eyes, though occurrences were few and far between, had awed Blake. More people should have the determination and trust and faith in the world that Ruby had.

“Because my little sister cannot figure out how to best portray herself, be it excitement, sadness, anxiety, or any other strong emotion. The only emotion she even has a hold over is her anger.” Yang chuckles. “Guess she got that gene instead of me. She’s awkward, and that isn’t a part of Ruby that is just going to disappear because Weiss and her are suddenly dating. It’s a part of her personality that has people making snap decisions about her, and has Ruby misinterpret others reactions to her.”

“It’s not the same thing. Weiss isn’t a stranger, she knows Ruby and Ruby knows her. This isn’t an awkward first introduction.”

“Isn’t it?”

“What?”

“This is as new to Ruby as her first day of Beacon was. Ruby’s never had a girlfriend before.” Yang throws her hands above her head and turns to make her way up the path once more, trying to catch up to Weiss. “Heck, she’s never had a relationship of any kind before. You’re right though,” she looked over her shoulder at you, her lavender eyes show concern. “This isn’t like meeting potential new friends, this is much more awkward for my baby sister, because she has more to lose.”

“But she should-” you start, jogging to take up a position beside Yang.

“She should stop being herself and be someone you and Weiss want her to be?” Yang questions and you can see a sharp, cutting edge to the way she’s looking at you. You’d seen anger, frustration, teasing, happiness, concern all etched within Yang’s eyes at one point or another, but this look is new. It’s raw and powerful. Yang blinks and suddenly the look is gone. “Ruby is just reverting back to what she normally does on her own. I can’t count how many times she’s left me behind at that exact spot back there.” A gloved hand lifts to indicate the path behind you.

“If you want to get through to the Rose-Xiao Long girls you have to make them see, before they will learn.” Yang chuckles. “Ruby won’t see it any other way without it being obviously pointed out to her. So yes, next time,” she claps her hand on Weiss shoulder as they catch up to her finally. “Grab her hand and make her see you.”

Weiss stops on the path as a rumble reverberates through the ground beneath your feet. When you stop to look back at her questiongly she’s sporting an almost defiant expression. You open your mouth to ask her what’s wrong when Yang’s hand gently grasps your wrist and pulls you forward. You let yourself be pulled for a few strides before dislodging Yang’s hold on you. Thinking Weiss needs some space you continue forward, following Yang until you make it around a bend in the trees and suddenly your face is being splattered with a fine mist.

The rumbling has become a roar and and you quickly find its source. Water from a stream tumbles down over the side of a cliff in front of you. The noise being created as the heavy liquid crashes into the rocks below. You’ve seen many beautiful scenes in your travels, but this one would definitely rank pretty high on your list of top ten.

“I told you!” Ruby squeals, suddenly at your side. “Where’s Weiss?” She inquiries quickly realizing she’s missing. You point towards the path and Ruby takes off with another flurry of rose petals.

“Let’s go.” Tearing your eyes away from the white mist floating up into the sky you see Yang motioning for you to follow her. You watch as she approaches the cliff and starts climbing. She makes it halfway up before she looks back to make sure you’re following. Hanging from one arm she sees you haven’t taken a single step in her direction. “Come on, don’t tell me a little cliff has Kitten scared.” You glare but cross your arms, refusing to move. “I promise if you get stuck up a tree or something I’ll come rescue you.”

“I’m not scared and I doubt I’ll ever need you to rescue me, least of all when I’m in a tree.”

“Meh,” Yang shrugs, reaching up to continue her climb. “Guess the term scaredy-cat is around for a reason.”

You’ve had about enough of her cat references, but she’s challenged you and you curse your competitive nature as you sprint forward towards the sheer rock wall. You spring up onto a large boulder at its base and jump, catching your foot into a deep crevice. Nimble fingers find cracks in the surface and you push vertical with both legs and arms springing up to reduce the distance between you and Yang. She’s probably got more upper body strength - who are you kidding - she’s got more overall body strength than you, but you’re lighter and definitely more agile. You’re able to swing and pivot against the wall where Yang’s bulkier form would be hard pressed to follow, and in this way you’re able to move more quickly up the jagged surface. The last hold you find is a root sticking out from a tree above, growing too close to the cliff’s edge. There’s just enough space for you to half crouch on its surface and you look at the remaining fifteen feet to the edge above you. Timing your last jump perfectly you land squarely on Yang’s shoulders and you hear her grunt beneath you, digging her fingers more tightly into the cracks holding her to the rock face. You leap and perform a flip before gracefully landing at the top of the cliff.

Crouching you peek over the side at Yang’s angered face. “You still coming?” The muscles of Yang’s jaw pop as she grinds her teeth. “Or do you need me to rescue you?”

What you expect is for Yang’s anger to bubble, for her to grumble and fume and call you out for almost making her fall off the cliff with your actions. You expect her to retaliate in some way. From what you’ve heard, her anger is the way in which she loses control and since you’ve known her you’ve never seen Yang frazzled. She’s always been confident, bordering cocky at times, and she shows this in the way she gives her advice without being asked or in the way she teases you. She’s strong, self aware, put together, and just Yang. That’s who she’s always been in your three summers worth of memories of her, but you remember Ruby telling stories of her sister’s unchecked temper. You remember the stories of an irritable Yang, one that got into trouble, picked fights with those out of her league, and created problems with her rash decisions. As far as you know Ruby is the most credible source for information on Yang, but you’ve never seen that side of the older girl. It comes as a surprise when Yang’s angered expression morphs into something altogether pleased. It’s shocking how disappointed you are.

You back away from the ledge when she reaches for it to pull herself the final distance to your level. She stands there, only two strides separating you and just looks with that odd half-smile plastered on her lips. There’s a loud silence between you and you’re not sure what it is or what it means so you avert your eyes and wrap your arms around your middle.

Yang clucks her tongue against her teeth and turns to approach the stream. “Come on.” She calls over her shoulder.

Following only because you don’t know what else you’re supposed to do now that you’re up here. Pausing on the bank as Yang hops onto a boulder in the middle of the rapidly moving stream. She makes a few more leaps until she’s perched comfortably on the largest rock, right at the edge of the cliff. Yang leans forward to peer down at the water falling directly below her than turns her challenging lilac eyes to you.

“Let’s go already.” She calls to you excitedly. “Hurry up.”

“You’re crazy, I’m not coming out there.”

If it weren’t for your extra pair of ears you’re sure her responding snort would have been drowned out by the noise drifting up from below.

“Don’t tell me Kitten doesn’t enjoy getting wet.”

A scoff is pulled from your throat. “Grow up and don’t be so crude.”

“What are you talk-“ Yang’s eyes widen comically, she stares at you in almost awe before her trademark sly cheshire grin replaces it. “I hadn’t even meant it that way.” She states, eyes smiling. “But good to know that’s where your mind is.” Her wink has you blushing and your teeth find the corner of your bottom lip. “And Kitten?” You hum as a response but keep her eyes. “If you’re not enjoying being wet in that way, you’re doing it all wrong.”

With that she lets herself fall backwards, arms spread out at fom her body. You watch in horror as she slowly disappears over the edge of the falls. Rushing forward you frantically scan the water below for her body; seconds tick by like hours. Finally she emerges from the water taking large gasping breaths. Her heart must be beating like crazy.

“What the fuck!” You yell at her, angered that she had your heart stopping in worry. “Ruby, your sister has lost her damn mind.” You yell interrupting the couple standing on the other side of the small pool Yang is now calmly backstroking through.

“Yeah,” Ruby calls back. “She’s kind of a show off.”

“She’s kind of a dick.” It’s said under your breath so you know none of them can hear, but it feels good to say anyway.

#bumbleby #white rose #rwby #my writing #fanfic

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choicesfanatic86 · 6 years

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TTS: Part 27 (Liam x MC)

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC

SUMMARY: 8 months was a long time. How do you just turn off feelings like that?

If you are new to the series and would like to catch up by reading previous parts, please check out my master fan fiction listing. CATCH UP HERE

TAGS: @herladyshipxx @theroyalweisme @blackcatkita @devineinterventions2 @hopefulmoonobject @captainkingliam @pbchoicesobsessed @cocomaxley @queencatherynerhys @mfackenthal @boneandfur @spetstoof @bobasheebaby @grapefrults @pessimystic-fangirl @dralenamax @mspaigemoore @drakelover78 @kaitycole @jayjay879 @hhiggs @umccall71 @penguininapinktuxedo @topsyturvy-dream @decisso @pnhanga @ladynonsense @mrs-simmy @jamielea81 @alwaysthebestchoice @hamulau @mrsdrakewalkerblog

5/12/18 - Part 27! Part 28 will be released around 6 pm my time, maybe a little later, depending on how well my toddler tolerates watching Moana.

PART 27 - Closing Doors

Riley arrived at the Winstead Hotel a little after one o’clock. As she got out of the cab, she could feel her palms sweating. On the cab ride over, she had practiced what she was going to say half a dozen times, but none of the words seemed to be the right thing to say. Andy’s words played over and over again in her head. Is that all this is? Of course it was. She had no intention of rekindling things with Paul. Their relationship was over. These weeks in Cordonia had shown her that a greater love was possible. The love she had with Liam. She smiled lightly thinking about their relationship, how they could finally start fresh. Things were still complicated, but she knew that in time things would eventually settle down and things would get better. She had already been thinking about when she could come back to Cordonia for a visit. Things were going to be okay again. She just needed to make sure that things with Paul were ended once and for all. After that, all would be right in the world again.

She flattened the wrinkles on her skirt, her fingers running nervously over and over the same spot as she waited for the elevator. Paul had let her know that he was on the eighth floor in one of their standard hotel rooms. She was so nervous about things that she felt her stomach flip-flop over and over inside of her. When the elevator landed on his floor, hesitation washed over her. What if Liam and Andy were right and he didn’t take their conversation well? What if he was too upset with her and she was just about to make things get even worse? She couldn’t think that way. She had to think that once they talked things would be for the better. She was stalling, she had known Paul for almost a year and he’d been nothing but kind and gracious. It would be fine. She mustered every ounce of courage and lightly tapped on the hotel room’s door.

The door opened in one fluid motion as Paul answered the door. He was shirtless, and technically pant-less since he was only wrapped in a bath towel from the waist down. Riley swallowed hard, turning away for a second as a blush crept slowly onto her cheeks. “Sorry, I – ah” she paused, composing herself. “I didn’t know you weren’t decent,” she explained.

“Sorry, I just got out of the shower. Wanted to make sure you didn’t have to wait for a while in case I couldn’t here you knocking,” he explained as he used another towel to dry his wet hair. “Come on in,” he stepped back a little, giving her enough space to enter.

“Thanks,” she obliged, stepping tentatively into the room.

“I should be thanking you. I appreciate you meeting with me. Things got a bit too much for me back at your friend’s place.”

She nodded, acknowledging his words. “I know . . . I’m so sorry about that, again.” She walked around the narrow entryway. “Did you want to grab a coffee or something? I saw a little café downstairs we can go to,” she suggested.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m fine here. Privacy is good for the things we have to talk about,” he explained. “That is if you don’t mind,” he added.

She frowned. The fact was she did mind. She started to feel very awkward standing near him, especially since he was sans the appropriate attire. She wondered if Andy’s words were starting to bias her outlook on things. Even if it had skewed her view on things, it didn’t change the fact that he was right. This wasn’t something they could openly discuss in private. She didn’t want their dirty laundry aired for the whole word to hear. She’d had enough of that for a lifetime. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, “Okay, but maybe you can put some clothes on?”

He smirked a little, “What? Too much for you?” He chuckled a bit.

She averted her eyes away from him as he ambled into the bathroom to change. That didn’t deserve a response. She knew it was just a joke, but she couldn’t help but feel that she was suddenly a bit in over her head. He wasn’t playing fair. When he came out of the bathroom dressed, he motioned for her to sit on the small couch that was against the wall. They sat in silence for a moment, neither really knowing how to begin.

She looked around the room anxiously, taking it all in. “Soo, she began. This is a nice room,” she smiled lightly, trying desperately to make some small talk with him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty decent for a last minute hotel booking,” he looked around.

The tension was gnawing at her. Why couldn’t she just get everything off of her chest? Why did she feel the need to skirt around everything that she wanted to tell him? Oh, that’s right, it’s because she was a chicken. She sighed heavily, wiling herself to just say what she needed to say so that the upset feeing she had in the pit of her stomach would go away.

“I’m sorry I made things so awkward this morning,” she said quickly. “I should have been upfront with you from the start.”

“Was any of it real? Our relationship, I mean,” he asked. “I keep playing everything back in my head. When I asked you out, our first date, all of our dinners at Russo’s . . . when did things go bad, Riley? I can’t understand how things got to this point?” he whispered sadly.

“All of it was real, Paul. Every day I spent with you was wonderful . . . but I was always missing him,” she said sadly. “I know I didn’t talk about it much and I think part of me didn’t really understand it myself, not until I came back here,” she said softly. “I always loved him. I never stopped. It just took a while for me to realize it,” she explained.

He looked at her sadly, anguish washing over his features. He’d aged since she last saw him. The stress was starting to take its toll. “You and me . . . we could have had the fairytale,” he said wistfully. “ I could see it so perfectly . . . we’d move to the Hamptons, we’d get a perfect house with a perfect white-picket fence. Like you see in the movies, you know? We’d have three kids, hell we could even have gotten a dog. We could have been happy together . . . We could still be happy together.” He moved his hand onto her leg, stroking her knee lightly as he gazed into her eyes.

She put her hand on his. A bit of hope entered his eyes, only to be dashed when she moved his hand to rest on the couch cushion. “I don’t feel the same way, Paul. Our relationship . . . it was so wonderful because it helped me grow stronger. It taught me how to feel again. It’s just not the kind of relationship that Liam and I have,” she reasoned with him. “You understand, don’t you? It would never have worked out between us . . . at least not in the forever kind of way you’re talking about.”

“Riley, I hear what you’re saying, but the way you look at me . . . it’s telling me something completely different,” he murmured, his hand moving to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“What are you talking about Paul?” she asked, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. He was getting a bit too touchy for her liking. It was odd how quickly things had changed. She remembered when small gestures like his hand on her leg or his hand stroking her hair would give her butterflies. Now, it just made her feel as if his touch was all wrong, almost as if she had already belonged to Liam, and any touch they shared was as if she were cheating on him.

“There’s longing in your eyes . . . regret even,” he said quietly. “I don’t think you want things to end between us,” he said surely.

“You’re right, I do have regrets. I regret hurting you. I regret breaking up with you when you were thousands of miles away. I know that made things much harder for you, and I should have waited, but . . . I just didn’t know what else to do,” she explained. “I don’t regret my love for Liam, though.”

“It seems like you still don’t know what you want to do,” he said pointedly. “Or what you want,” he added.

Her face contorted in indignation. “I know exactly what I want, Paul. I told you that I want to be with Liam. I love him,” she explained. “I’m so sorry that in the process of me realizing that, I had to hurt you. I want you to move on. That’s why I came to talk to you. I want you know that I hope that down the line we can still be friends. I think you’re an amazing guy, and you’re going to make someone so happy one day . . . that woman just isn’t me,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry.” She reached her hand out to touch his arm in comfort, but immediately regretted the gesture. Things were a bit to raw for him right now, and she didn’t want to give him any false hope about there still being a romantic connection between them.

She paused, silence lingering uncomfortably between them. “Paul, I think I better go,” she said, a trace of worry in her voice. She didn’t want to lead him on, and if she stayed, she was certain that his hopes of reconciliation would steadily increase, and they’d be in a worst mess than they already found themselves in. She got off the couch, giving him one last look before turning to walk toward the door.

Riley opened it, stepping out into the hallway. Things were getting a bit too heavy for her. He was clearly not accepting of the fact that they were over, and she couldn’t help that. She couldn’t talk the feelings out of him. As much as she wanted to provide him with closure, she realized then that the only person who could give him closure was himself. Andy was right. He’d misinterpreted her desire for closure as a desire to reconcile. She needed to be the one to leave and give him space.

Before she had a chance to react, he had followed her, and they both lingered in the doorway. He leaned in toward her, she didn’t know what to expect. “No,” she murmured, not really knowing what he had planned to do. He grabbed her firmly, capturing her lips with his. Her eyes remained open, stunned by the kiss. Her hands hit wildly at his back, trying to get him off of her, but he was stronger than her, and his grasp was on her so tightly, it was almost hurting.

He pulled back looking deeply into her eyes. “I bet he doesn’t kiss you like that,” he pulled her closer to him. She tried hard to push him off of her, but he went to kiss her once more. This time, Riley was more prepared. She bit his lip. Hard.

“Ow . . . what the hell, Riley,” he said stumbling back into his hotel room.

“I said no,” she yelled at him. “It isn’t like that anymore, Paul. I love Liam.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you realize what you’re saying. He destroyed you, Riley. You said it yourself. You’re just going to let that happen to you again? Spend months agonizing over some guy that married some other woman?”

“Stop,” she said forcefully. “You have no clue what went on between me and him. You don’t get to judge him. Or me for that matter,” she said, as she started to walk away. “When I go back to New York, don’t bother contacting me. I wanted to be friends . . . I wanted things to be good between us then you go and do something like this,” she shook her head. “I thought you were better than that, Paul.”

“I love you, Riley. I just . . . I wanted you to feel it again.”

“I don’t love you, Paul. I told you that. I’m in love with Liam,” she said firmly. “Don’t contact me again. I mean it,” she said firmly, before taking off down the hallway, hyperventilating as she ran. How could she have let that happen? She knew things were getting uncomfortable and she should have got out of there a lot sooner. Andy and Liam were right. He didn’t want closure; he wanted her. He couldn’t accept that their relationship was over. She had hoped that they’d be able to maintain some semblance of a friendship after his emotional wounds healed. They’d been such a big part of each other’s lives over the last eight months, but now . . . now she just wanted to pretend he never existed.

#choices #choices: stories you play #playchoices #choices fandom #choices the royal romance #choices fanfiction #the royal romance #theroyalromance #the royal romance fan fic #trr fanfic #trr #trr fic #choices trr #liam x mc #liam x riley

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whatchyagonnado · 7 years

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A Fresh Start (Part 1)

Sweet Pea x Reader

Prompt: Sweet Pea is a 27-year-old widowed dad, raising his daughter alone for 5 years when he meets you but he’s uneasy to start something so his daughter doesn’t get hurt.

I swear I’m also writing the requests! Don’t worry I’ve got those going too 😊 I just really wanted to write this because I couldn’t get it out of my head. I will definitely be writing more of this I promise

Warnings: Mentions of death, some swearing

Word Count: 2166

Sweet Pea was sitting in the Whyte Wyrm, nursing the same bottle of beer for the past hour. He looked visibly glum, today was the anniversary of her death, 5 years ago today she passed away and left him alone with a four-year-old. He was afraid to go home, knowing exactly what would be waiting for him, his beautiful little girl asking him about Diane again. Every year without fail his daughter would ask about her mother and every year he told her the story of how Charlotte came to be. Sweet Pea never told her the real story, a drunk one-night stand when he was 18 that led to the best thing about his life. He spun a much more romantic tale, so Charlie didn’t have a skewed perception of her long-gone mom.

“Sweet Pea, what are you still doing here?” Fangs called out to him, taking Sweet Pea out of daze.

“I’m not ready to go home yet.” He responds glumly.

“Come on, you’re our fearless leader. You can’t be showing this kind of emotion in front of the new recruits.”

“Watch it Fangs. I’m not in a comical mood.” Sweet Pea warned, glaring at his best friend and second in command. Ever since FP retired from the serpents and Tall Boy was in prison, Sweet Pea was in charge. It’s been 2 years since he took full command and the serpents have never done better.

“Sorry boss, but seriously Charlie will be home soon, you should be there.”

“Yeah I’ll head over now. Keep an eye on things Fangs.” Sweet Pea waves and walks out of the Wyrm solemnly. Deciding to walk back to his small house on the southside, he sees everything in a new light. So much has happened in Riverdale over the years, it’s finally managed to calm down and settle for a little bit. The crisp autumn air reminding him of old times, before he had to grow up way to fast. Stopping for a brief moment to compose himself before he reaches the house he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Next thing he knows he’s being knocked over by something.

“Watch it dumbass! Do you know who I am?” Sweet Pea shouts in anger at the person.

“I’m so sorry! I tripped over my shoelace!” A female voice responds. Sweet Pea gets up off the ground, looking down and sees beautiful eyes staring back at him. Y/N was still on the ground, her knee cut up a little bit. “And no I actually have no idea who you are.” She finally got up, and Sweet Pea was dazed, he didn’t know what to do about this woman in front of him.

“So why should I know you?” She spoke, finally breaking the silence.

“It doesn’t matter. Are you new to town?”

“Yeah, I came to work at the Riverdale Register with Alice Cooper, I don’t know if you know her.”

“Oh I know her, she’s something.” Sweet Pea chuckled. Alice had an active role with the serpents until FP’s retirement, but she still hung around the Wyrm and gave her opinion on serpent events.

“Well I’m excited, she intrigues me. I’m sorry I guess I should introduce myself, I’m Y/N” she reaches out a hand, which Sweet Pea takes and shakes, smiling.

“I’m Sweet Pea.”

“DAADDDDDDDYYYYY” A loud voice attracts both of their attention as their heads turn towards the girl running towards them. The little girl jumps up towards Sweet Pea and he picks her up and spins her around.

“Hi Charlie! How was school?” Sweet Pea’s attitude completely changed in front of his daughter, it was as if he took a 180-emotion change. Y/N was in awe staring at this tall brooding man turn into a puddle of mush. Deciding it was an intimate moment, she started to walk away.

“It was nice meeting you Sweet Pea, I’ve got to get going though.” She waves and starts to walk away when Sweet Pea calls out to her.

“I’ll see you around Y/N” and she smiled for making a new friend.

“Who was that dad?” Charlie asks her father.

“Just a friend sweetie. Come on let’s get you inside, you need to eat and then we need to see mommy.” He puts his daughter down as they walk towards the door of the house. “Do you have any homework kid?”

“No.” Sweet Pea raises his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Okay fine I have math homework, but I don’t wanna do it!”

“Why oh why did you have to take after me with your school habits? After we eat, I’m sitting down with you to do it then we can watch Zootopia deal?”

“Deal!” His daughter gleams at him. She has been a blessing to raise, so much better than he was at her age and he was ever thankful for it.

*The Next Week*

After an emotionally heavy week, visiting Diane’s grave and commemorating her with his daughter, Sweet Pea was looking for relaxation. The serpents were also busy with new recruits and initiation. The Whyte Wyrm was buzzing, everyone getting ready for the newbies to shout the laws and pass the knife initiation. Y/N subtly walked in unnoticed through the chaos. She sat at the bar just watching the madness go down. Before anything could start Sweet Pea catches her eye and makes his way over to her.

“Y/N to what do we owe the pleasure?” He walks up to her.

“Hey I didn’t know you’d be here!” She looks slightly alarmed.

“So if you didn’t come here for my charms then why are you here?” Sweet Pea chuckles in amusement. He hasn’t felt so comfortable at flirting in a long time.

“Alice is making me write an expose on the serpents. She said I need to know them to know Riverdale.”

“Well that sounds great but I’m afraid you’ll have to come back another night. Outsiders aren’t allowed to witness initiation rituals.”

“Is that what’s happening right now?”

“Yes so I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Wow are you some sort of head honcho serpent?” She starts packing her things up respecting his wish. He chuckles a bit when he sees Toni looking at him from afar with her eyebrows raised and a smirk on her face.

“Something like that. How about I take you for dinner tomorrow night and you can interrogate me all you like?”

“Okay sounds like a plan, here’s my number just let me know when and where.” Y/N handed her card over to the towering man in front of her and walked out the door.

“So who was that? She’s new around here.” Toni asks Sweet Pea from behind him.

“Just a reporter hired by Alice.” He says without any regard. Toni smirks knowing very well what it means to Sweet Pea.

“Come on man, you haven’t dated in nine years! And hook ups don’t count! It’s time to get back out there, maybe this is the girl to do it with.” She suggests to him, but he just walks away. Having a kid has made it difficult for him to date, but maybe this girl could be the one to open his eyes.

The next night Sweet Pea put on a dress shirt for the first time since Diane’s funeral. It was a weird sense of déjà vu for him, but he couldn’t place how. Looking at the clock he waits for Toni to come to the door before he can leave for dinner. She offered to watch Charlie for the night since in her words “it’s been a century since Sweet Pea has got some.” Finally hearing the door bell ring Sweet Pea relaxes a little bit.

“So are you ready for your big date night?” Toni shouts as she walks in.

“It’s not a date Topaz and please don’t talk about it in front of Charlie. I don’t want her to think anything is happening when it’s not.”

“Dad, are you going to get married soon?” Charlie comes into the hallway from her room. Toni laughs out loud and hugs her god-daughter.

“Guess that ship has sailed Sweet Pea.” Toni winks at him and he just rolls his eyes.

“No kid, I’m not getting married anytime soon. Just do your homework and I should be back in time for bed.” He leans in and kisses her on the top of her head as he walks out to his motorcycle. He rides all the way to Pop’s, still one of the staples in Riverdale. As he walks in he sees a lot more serpents than he would’ve 10 years before, Riverdale had become less divided, no more wars between the Northside and the Southside. This happened because of Jughead’s efforts but ever since he and Betty moved to New York for reporting, there was little seen of him. He had a hard time leaving the serpents but when FP finally retired the decision became easier.

“Hey Sweet Pea, over here!” Y/N shouted and waved to him. He walks towards her booth and smiles. “I have to say I really like this place, I can’t believe I’ve been here a whole week and no one has told me about this.” She continues to say as he sits down.

“Well this is a staple of Riverdale. So Y/N, what questions can I answer about the Southside Serpents?”

“Getting right to it I see. Okay first, I want to know who you are to them.” She takes out her laptop, ready to take notes.

“I’m the interim leader let’s say. For two years now.”

“Okay, can I ask how long you’ve been a serpent?”

“Since I was 16.” She looked amazed hearing him talk about this life that he had been so hesitant to show. The serpents have always had a bad connotation to people in Riverdale, but this girl was a blank slate, she had no prejudice against him for his way of life.

“So what do the serpents do?” She continues to probe him. The hours pass by quickly as Sweet Pea answers to the best of his ability. They laugh and enjoy each others company.

“This entire night you’ve been asking questions about my life but what about you? What’s your story?” Sweet Pea asks turning the tables.

“Fair enough, well I graduated from NYU and for the last 4 years I’ve been traveling around the world working for different news stations. I’ve been published in a lot of countries and I just basically go to one place, learn something unique and then move on to another place. This led me to here.”

“So you’re a freelance reporter then?”

“Essentially yeah.” Sweet Pea was intrigued by this girl, she had such a different outlook on life than he was used to. She brought some much-needed fresh air.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” She asks him.

“You can ask it, I don’t know if I’ll answer given that I barely know you.”

Y/N laughs at that comment but continues to ask, “how does your wife feel about you being out at 10 pm with me?”

“Holy shit it’s 10?? I’m not married, I’m a single father actually, have been for 5 years.” Y/N looked visibly shocked but also a little bit happy knowing he wasn’t taken.

“It’s a long story.” Sweet Pea continues seeing Y/N’s face.

“It’s okay you don’t have to tell me.” Y/N tells him, and he visibly relaxes. He respects she doesn’t poke and push his limits.

“Maybe I’ll save it for another time. I’m sorry to do this but I have to go home, I promised my daughter I would be home in time for bedtime.”

“Of course, no worries. Thank you for sitting down with me and giving me some insight.” They both get up and walk out of Pop’s, and he walks her towards her car.

“I had a good time tonight, it’s been a while since I’ve been out on the town.” Sweet Pea chuckles a little at her comment.

“I had a good time too.” He responds. They stare at each other in awkward silence, both unsure what to do. Deciding to take Toni’s advice Sweet Pea grabs her face and kisses Y/N. At first there was shock, but then she quickly kissed back wrapping her arms around his neck. Their bodies were stuck together until Sweet Pea pulls away from the heated make out session.

“Well you’re not too shabby for an old dad.” You say smirking at him and he bursts out in laughter.

“Hey, I have solid moves. You should be lucky to be on the receiving end of them.”

“Okay I’ll consider myself honored to be in your presence.”

“Have a good night Y/N.” He walks to his bike.

“Be careful on that death trap!” Y/N shouts after him. Her time in Riverdale has been interesting, and she has a feeling that this is just the start.

To be continued…

Part 2 Part 3

#Sweet pea #Sweet Pea x reader #Sweet pea fic #sweet pea prompt #Sweet Pea imagine #Riverdale fic #riverdale imagines #toni topaz #fangs fogarty #Alice Cooper #fresh start #fresh start fic

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moonlitgleek · 7 years

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Honestly, the argument over Lyanna’s consent could easily be settled by answering only four questions:

Was her consent voluntary?

Was her consent free?

Was her consent informed?

Was her consent ongoing?

I’m going to set aside Lyanna’s age for now despite how this alone invalidates any argument for consent since Lyanna was a minor even by Westerosi standards and thus incapable of giving consent. But I know that people will come out from the woodworks claiming that “this was how things were back then” which is factually incorrect, and “we shouldn’t apply our modern world’s rules to medieval period” which…. why shouldn’t I? The text calls Lyanna a “child-woman” and goes a long way in establishing her youngness, powerlessness and impulsiveness. It shows how a somewhat similar “relationship” between Cersei and Lancel - which also includes a fucked up power dynamic and an older “partner” using the younger one’s naivete for their own purposes - was devastating to Lancel’s psyche. We argue about the skewness of Dany\Drogo and what it means for the definition of their relationship, we argue about how Cersei and Lancel’s relationship could not be considered consensual despite Lancel saying yes. So why should I ignore the same considerations when it comes to Lyanna and Rhaegar?

However, let’s put that aside for a little while as we try to answer the above questions. Consent is not just about saying yes: for Lyanna’s consent to be valid and accepted, it had to be voluntary, free, informed and ongoing, otherwise it was not consent. But did these adjectives truly apply to Lyanna’s situation?

Was Lyanna’s consent voluntary?

Or did it involve any form of coercion, manipulation or pressure? Was it given on an equal ground that allows Lyanna to give consent without feeling any pressure or compulsion to do it?

From the very start, the power imbalance makes it close to impossible for Lyanna to give a voluntary consent. She was in a very vulnerable position: a 14 years old maid faced by an adult crown prince and his loyal Kingsguard, being trumped on account of both age and rank. The power dynamic is heavily skewed in Rhaegar’s favor here, which not only casts shadows on Lyanna’s assent but makes her ability to even express it in doubt since the situation would put tremendous pressure on her, simply based on the difference in age and rank.

But it goes beyond that. Oftentimes when the topic of consent is raised, it’s either the circumstances under which Lyanna disappeared or her experience at the Tower of Joy that are the subject of discussion. But I want to start a bit earlier than that, namely at the Tourney of Harrenha,l since we can’t really separate the events of the tourney from what happened next, not if we want to have a more thorough examination of this plot.

Rhaegar’s actions at the tourney are not usually discussed wrt Lyanna’s consent, even though they are actually the first clue that something is entirely wrong with this scenario. Much has been said about how dumb a political move Rhaegar’s crowning of Lyanna was; how it broke chivalric code and alienated two paramount families in one stroke while severely offending a third; how it was an insult to the honor of Lyanna and House Stark, etc, but not much about why Rhaegar chose to do it in spite of all these considerations. What did he hope to achieve with this stunt that posed an insult to both his wife and Lyanna, and that framed the latter as a royal mistress? Many people - myself included - have attributed that to an ill-fated attempt to reward Lyanna for her actions as the Knight of the Laughing Tree or even a nod of respect to her valor, but the thing is that Rhaegar was not unaware of the implications of his actions. He couldn’t have been ignorant of the insult he was dealing Lyanna, the Starks, and Robert and so if this was genuinely meant as only a reward or an acknowledgement of Lyanna, it defeated its purpose. You do not show respect to someone by publicly sullying their honor. Now I’m of the opinion that Rhaegar’s interest in Lyanna as the mother for his third child started at Harrenhal and before he found out that Elia could not have more children, so in light of that, what did Rhaegar have to win by declaring his designs on Lyanna so publicly, something that could only ever make it harder for him to have her? What purpose did that stunt serve and how does it fall in line with anything we know of Rhaegar? I find it very hard to believe that he committed such an outlandish blunder without a purpose and for absolutely no pressing reason. That crowning must have served Rhaegar’s interests somehow, otherwise he wouldn’t have risked so much doing it.

The only answer I can find lies with Lyanna herself, lies in the theory that Rhaegar’s actions were designed to appeal personally to Lyanna. Through her actions as the Knight of the Laughing Tree, Rhaegar knew her to be someone who put stock in honor and rules of chivalry so he controlled the image he presented to her from the get go. Rhaegar was a part of chivalric culture and he knew the importance of symbol and image politics; he probably already planned to use his chivalric image to appeal to the gathered lords as a better alternative for Aerys, but instead he used it to shape Lyanna’s opinion of him to guarantee a favorable outlook that would later help him convince her to run away with him. Rhaegar knew the worth of chivarlic action, one of its cornerstones being the crowning of queen of love and beauty at tourneys. By crowning Lyanna, Rhaegar projected to her an image of the chivalric prince who cherished her actions as the Knight of the Laughing Tree and sought to honor them, a complete opposite to what Robert would have done.

It’s also worth noting that the crowning fits perfectly into the romanticized idea of courtly love that is widely regarded as pure and ennobling (and that includes the in-universe view. Look at how fond the singers are of the story of Queen Naerys and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight) which is something that must have appealed to a maid of fourteen with romantic inclinations who cried upon hearing Rhaegar’s song. That, in and of itself, is a strike against Rhaegar imo. He knew what his actions really meant and what they implied to the gathered lords. He knew he was breaking chivalric code and dealing a grave insult to many people, but he still chose to use a romantic chivalric notion to play on Lyanna's naivete, romanticism and even her sense of honor, and to project an image to her that, while not completely false, is still not honest. This was not simply a matter of Rhaegar appreciating Lyanna’s spirit, or even falling in love with her; he had ulterior motives driving his action to the point where he chose to insult so many people to ensure his objective: making Lyanna Stark enamored with the idea of him as someone who would not stifle her or force her into a specific box. Which, of course, was a lie.

That brings me to the circumstances of Lyanna’s disappearance from the Riverlands. While I do not think that Rhaegar took Lyanna by force, manipulating her into saying yes isn’t exactly a development. In all probability, Rhaegar projected an image of himself as someone who was granting Lyanna a choice, but while I do not believe that was true (more on that later), what mattered was that she believed that she could make her own decision, as opposed to being forced into a relationship with Robert. Lyanna was headstrong and free-spirited. She did not want to marry Robert and expressed her qualms to Ned, but no one took her opinion into account or cared about her objections. Her father pretty much owned her and he wanted the match with Robert so that was it. To be presented by a choice, to think that she was free to decide whether to stay or to leave, would appeal greatly to her, not to mention work to distance Rhaegar even more from Robert in her mind. To Lyanna, Rhaegar respected and even rewarded her willfulness, and gave her the space to make her own decision and to take her own life in hand, something that Robert would never do. But that was, in actuality, just an illusion Rhaegar projected to her.

Under these circumstances, Lyanna’s consent can not be called voluntary. Not only did the situation include a good deal of manipulation or, at best, lying by omission, but she was not in a position to give voluntary consent in the first place due to the power imbalance between them.

Was Lyanna’s consent free?

Free consent means that the person giving it had the space to say no and to have their decision respected and honored. If someone isn’t willing to accept a no from a partner, then there is no freedom of choice in the first place, and thus consent can not be given.

Again, I go back to the power imbalance that, in and of itself, invalidates whatever consent Lyanna gave. A person in such a vulnerable position, under the authority of another, is incapable of giving consent. Lyanna and Rhaegar were not on equal ground in any way, shape or form, which muddies her consent. She could not compel Rhaegar to do anything at any point. She could not make him leave her alone if she wished. She could not make him respect her decision if she’d said no. She had no control over where she was going or how long she stayed there. She was in a situation that she could not get out of if she wanted to. What kind of consent could she give under these circumstances? A person in that unbalanced power situation can not give consent, plain and simple.

Secondly, did Lyanna have the space to say no and have it be respected? Would Rhaegar have simply left her alone had she refused him? No freaking way. Rhaegar was after his third head of the dragon and he was not going to turn around and find another to father his third child on that easily. For whatever reason, he believed that Lyanna had to be the mother of the third head of the dragon and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He had two Kingsguard with him to support his plans. That invalidates any consent given from the onset of this relationship. If Rhaegar wasn’t prepared to accept Lyanna’s rejection just as much as he was prepared to take her up on her agreement, then she did not have a choice in the first place, regardless of whether she understood that or not. That makes whatever scenario Rhaegar presented to her and the choice he supposedly gave her only a pretense designed to get her to agree to go without the need to physically force her. That is deception. If Rhegar had no intention of heeding Lyanna if her wishes contradicted his, but still made her think that she did have the space to say no, then he lied to her and deceived her. Any consent obtained under these circumstances can not be valid.

Was Lyanna’s consent informed?

Consent is not just about agreeing to something, it’s knowing fully well what you’re agreeing to. If you do not know what you’re saying yes to, how can your consent even count?

This is where I ask how much Lyanna knew about what she was agreeing to. If Rhaegar, at any point, withheld information from her or lied to her -- whether outright or only by omission -- he’d have rendered her incapable of consenting to anything. For Lyanna to make an informed decision, she needed to know about the prophecy and that Rhaegar primarily wanted her as a vessel for a prophecy child. She needed to know that Rhaegar’s plans included spiriting her to a tower in Dorne and staying there till he got his prized child. I’ve seen some arguments that Lyanna did know about the prophecy, but come on; she was a teenager trying to flee an unwanted marriage to someone who would have forced her to live by his beliefs. What 14-year-old rebels against being subjugated to one man’s whims only to run to another knowing he would subjugate her to his whims? What 14-year-old thinks it’s a swell idea to be an incubator for a savior? What 14-year-old thinks it’s a good idea to endanger her life in a high risk pregnancy in the middle of no where for something that sounds like legends and fiction? What’s with the belief that of course every single woman in Rhaegar’s life was ready to risk her well-being, and even her children’s well-being, for a prophecy that only ever sounded plausible to the Targaryens?

(And honestly, even if she did know and agree to this, I would still be spitting blood. Because she was fourteen, and Rhaegar had a responsibility to be the adult in the situation and recognize how utterly dangerous those plans were for Lyanna’s health. He was endangering her life by impregnating her, and raising the risk factor by leaving her in an isolated tower in Dorne without proper medical care.)

On top of that, Lyanna needed to know that she would not be able to have any contact with her family for as long as Rhaegar deemed necessary. She needed to know how utterly difficult it would be to get a marriage between her and Rhaegar recognized and what that means for her position in Rhaegar’s life. She needed to know that Rhaegar’s plans included vanishing completely and forcing her family into a confrontation with Aerys.

So did she know any of that? No? Then she did not know what she was agreeing to. She couldn’t make an informed decision because she did not have all the information necessary to see the complete picture. You can not consent to what you do not know.

Was Lyanna’s consent ongoing?

It’s not enough for her to say yes one time. Saying yes to leaving with Rhaegar is not a blanket consent to everything that happened afterwards. Did Lyanna agree to being spirited away to Dorne? Did she agree to staying in Dorne while Rhaegar left for the capital? Did she agree to be made to give birth in the Tower of Joy?

Lyanna’s experience at the Tower of Joy is frankly disturbing. By taking her to Dorne, Rhaegar effectively isolated her from everyone she knew and made her completely dependent on himself and his Kingsguard for everything, including information, which is made even muddier by the fact that Dorne was Elia’s home which means it was an unfriendly territory to Lyanna, the woman who Rhaegar dishonored Elia with. The information we have about the events starting from Brandon and Rickard’s murder paints a very ugly picture of what happened in that tower, because there is no way Lyanna would be content to simply remain at the Tower of Joy after knowing that her father and brother died as a result of an action she took. Even arguments that Lyanna might not been able to leave due to pregnancy complications can not account to the pesky fact that Rhaegar only left Dorne to fight in his father’s name against Lyanna’s surviving family, and that Lyanna would never be alright with that.

So we have a couple of options as to how this story went: 1) Rhaegar did not tell Lyanna about Rickard and Brandon, and she only found out sometime after he left, which means he withheld information and she had no say in the matter, or 2) Rhaegar did tell her but either pressured\manipulated her into staying, or outright prevented her from leaving, regardless of her wishes.

Neither scenario is particularly a riveting character endorsement of Rhaegar, neither do they bode well to any argument that Lyanna stayed in Dorne willingly.

I’ve always found arguments that Lyanna accepted Rhaegar’s decision to declare for his father both illogical and infuriatingly minimizing to Lyanna’s character. One of the few things we know about Lyanna is that she defended a stranger simply because he was her father’s man, and because she could not abide the injustice of three squires ganging up on him. She went on to defend Howland’s honor and rode in a tourney specifically so she could get justice for him. This is the girl who Ned described as having iron underneath her beauty, who obviously believed in family values, honor, justice and Northern nationalism. Assuming that she would be accepting of Rhaegar taking the field against her surviving family in the name of the king who murdered her father and brother flies in the face of any character motivation we ever glimpsed of her, not to mention blatantly ignores the fact that she was screaming for her brother as the Kingsguard met him sword-to-sword to prevent him from reaching her, or that she clearly trusted Ned and wanted him by her side.

Do not erase Lyanna’s experience at the Tower of Joy: isolated, pregnant, alone, dependent on Rhaegar and subject to his will, powerless to change her situation, forced to remain behind as the father of her child took up arms against her beloved brother who only rose to demand justice for their murdered father and brother, left to the “protection” of Rhaegar’s Kingsguard who were willing to kill her own brother on their prince’s orders despite how clear it is that Lyanna trusted Ned implicitly. None of that speaks of consent, or even of an ability to give consent.

In conclusion:

I think we’re having the wrong argument when it come to Lyanna’s story with Rhaegar: the point of examination should not focus on whether Lyanna agreed to run away with Rhaegar, or even whether she married him or not, but rather on the validity of her consent. Saying yes is not good enough under these circumstances, not where there are plenty of considerations that undermine her consent, not least of which being a teenager completely under Rhaegar’s power. We need to talk more about what Lyanna’s agreement truly means and how it redefines her relationship with Rhaegar. No matter how much we try to swing it, Lyanna was 14 and being “courted” by an older and more experienced man entirely capable of manipulating and coercing her, even if he did not use violence for it. The fact that she almost certainly did not know his true purpose in pursuing her (i.e: getting a child out of her for the prophecy) makes her consent even more dubious: Rhaegar withheld information about Lyanna and so whatever dubious consent she made was muddied even more by him deliberately making her unable to make an informed decision. And that’s just the surface level of this. This might have gotten her to the impulsive decision of marrying in front of a heart tree (as I believe things went) but the fact remains that agreeing to that is not the same as agreeing to isolation in Dorne, to remaining in Dorne while Rhaegar left to fight in Aerys’ name, and to be kept away from her remaining family by the sword even as she screamed for her brother.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #rhaegar and lyanna #robert's rebellion #the tourney at harrenhal #the tower of joy #consent issues

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countdownto65 · 7 years

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Empathy for Self

What is the nemesis of shame? Empathy.

What is the root of most of your shame? Attention seeking, codependentcy and sexual misconduct.

Empathy. You were the oldest in the family fighting for parental attention against two babies.

You hit puberty early. This was a 2 fold problem. You started getting attention furthering the tight shirts but in turn Everyone in 4th grade started calling you a ho. You had never even kissed a boy. You were not a ho and kids are fucking mean.

But you know who else’s attention you got by having boobs, dressing in body suits and seeking attention at 11 years old? A fucking pedophile. While your behavior made you an easy target, NO ONE DESERVES TO BE SEXUALLY EXPLOITED AT 12, 13, 14, OR 15 YEARS OLD. Did you fuckin get that? No matter what your actions it was not your fault they targeted you. Even if you agreed to it at 13, 14, 15 you can leave that self blame right here bc that was their bad NOT YOURS. This is where you learned sex = attention, power, control. They would buy you stuff, get you high and drunk, make you feel like the best person they know all (not explicitly stated) for sexual behavior. I learned a skewed view on relationships and appropriate sexual behavior in adult married behavior. I learned to emotionally detach from sex. I learned to over ride the “this shit ain’t right” feeling you get in your chest when you are uncomfortable in a situation. All of these things are what set your boundaries and your very left field view of what kind of attention makes you feel worthwild. This was not your fault and sometimes life has shitty things happen that effect our outlook forever.

So it sure was easy to sleep with boyfriends, I mean you “loved” them, they were always older, sex was something that didn’t come from everybody so with my sexual skills I learned from the pedophiles I was the best gf a 16 year old could have. And bc I could so easily separate sex from emotion (as a conditioned response to molestation) and it was a way to get boys I liked to notice me, I gave it up easily. Not necessarily sex, but sexual acts. It was one way I felt power and control. Boys treated me special on the surface bc I was pretty with tight clothes…but I failed to realize the power was momentary at the cost of respect. Both self respect and respect of everyone else. This was when my first experience with the fuck and run type of dude came in. The first time I cared. After that I didn’t at least I told myself I didn't but This was when I began codependency. They didn’t always fuck and run. I was good at getting boys to stick around for a while. I was a serial dater. I had to have a significant other to feel worth so I had too many boyfriends. Always one on hand one on the backburner. This was you reaching out for real connection, something you felt had been missing both with your parents, your abusers and your random sexual encounters. When I had a bf I was faithful. I know that sounds fucked up bc I just said I had a backburner but I was never sleeping with this other guy. I just friend zoned him knowing he liked me so I could establish my safety net. So one day at 17 Ieft home, went to a house party, hooked up with the guy who’s house it was (Matt) and that was the start of my first adult relationship. I loved him from the bottom of my toes but he often cheated on me and I never left him for it. It was at this time that I severed my relationship with my abusers. I was old enough to at least have an inkling something wasn’t right, plus now I considered it cheating and I didn’t cheat on him. He started selling drugs. We both got into cocaine. It was easy bc I dated the dopeman.

Then he went to prison. I continued the relationship with him but continued to date/sleep with men while he was away. This was when I caught an std and began stripping on weekends. This is still caused by poor boundaries and a skewed idea of sex and power… Set in motion by sexual abuse. By now I had slowed way down on cocaine but had a huge weed and alcohol habit. I worked at a catholic preschool during the week but stripped to pay for my substances on Sat nights. This set off a little bit of the uncomfortable double life feeling but I pushed it down. I also hustled people for substances. Although I never slept with anyone for money or drugs. But I def made them think I might so they would get me high. Never felt bad either bc if your a dude willing to be got you deserved to get hustled…that was my mindset. I also saw stripping as a hustle. Hustle to me means fuck with a lame walk with a limp. I mean if your gonna be thirsty I’ll take your money. This is probably when I acquired my mindset that most dudes were creeps and out to get me. I realize now that by appearing easy I was literally attracting creeps but at the time I enjoyed the attention and the feeling of superiority and has a huge sample of men to confirm my bias.

Every now and then though I got tricked out of my hard exterior and caught feelings. This is my deep emotional need for connection, to feel worth while. This is where I met my daughters father. He was a giant red flag but problem with bad boundaries and emotional regulation is if I liked you I would ignore red flags and become overly obsessed with you. This has continued to be a problem throughout adulthood.

Anyways I dated Tony until He went to prison, then Matt got out of prison until we broke up, then Tony got out of prison and we has Olivia. Then Tony went back to prison and I met Jason, I left Jason when Tony got out of prison but when Tony and I broke up I went back to Jason and we had Leah. Are you seeing the boomerang effect of codependentcy and back burner relationships. One stable relationship was not enough.

I wanted Jason to be different. To be a family but unfortunately Jason turned out to be very abusive mentally, physically and emotionally. He was an alcoholic and a mean one. But for some reason I loved him and let him stomp on me over and over. He took my confidence. He took my pride. He took my soul. I tried to break up with him 30 times he would say no and just wouldn’t leave. I was faithful to him until I moved out into subsidised housing. But even then I didn’t have multiple men just one man that to this day I love. This guy put up with being #2 for 2 years on and off. Maybe he knew I loved him, maybe he knew that I was stuck with Jason, maybe he knew I needed to feel wanted and worthy. During this I felt guilty and shameful. I eventually bought a house and moved Jason in. That is when this other guy got a new gf and left me alone. It was like mourning a breakup that I couldn’t tell anyone. Eventually I legally evicted Jason and this left me with a self worth and connection black hole.

I acted out for a minute on my usual single m.o.. Then an old friend from middle school came in. He was different then others in that he was genuinely nice and cared for my well being. Unfortunately he also came with a huge dose of depression leading to at the time an inability to keep a job or help with housework. But I stayed with him on and off for the next few years bc I loved him for his emotional support and that he made me feel worthy. Plus it was safe. As a woman in her 30s, I am at the point that if I’m in a relationship I don’t cheat or scope out new guys or have a backburner. It kept me emotionally reeled in. But bc of my trust issues, bc of my lack of feeling worthy, bc of my resentment for him watching me struggle, and bc of my need for excitement or passion (see drama) I couldn’t be with him forever. Even after he got better and held a job and helped my brain short circuits and told me that our lack of connection was insurmountable. I broke his heart and he did nothing wrong. I am just still searching for that lasting “in love” connection that I am not sure exists. I harbor huge guilt here. Both for his feelings and for what could be wrong with me that I left what I said I wanted. That maybe my brain will never let me really love. My only empathy here is that I am working on my shit and all I can do is that.

Every time in my adult life when I have been unhappy in a relationship I’ve left instead of fixing. I have searched out attention through suggestive facebook posts or selfies or sexting. I have been emotionally raw towards men. I had a shitty attitude toward relationships. Anytime that I was single or had freedom I either had a fuck buddy that I didn’t feel anything for or sometimes I would make a strong connection and go all in. I would rush it sexually (again not necessarily full sex but messing around for sure) and more times then not I get played. Within 2 weeks after they no longer answer my texts or calls. This is the shit adult shame is built from. How can you be so blind and stupid? Why can’t you be stable and happy? But here is where I need an empathy piece. Your sexuality was already not healthy then Jason stripped you of any self worth. He often told you no one could ever love me bc I was such a low down terrible person, a piece of shit mother, a whore. Six years of that and you begin to believe it. So if a man comes along and sells you a dream of being loveable its hard not to want with all your heart to believe them. And sexuality is my only tool I know for reeling them in. But when things get too serious I start getting scared of being broken or having to work on things that historically haven’t worked or old scars become obsessions.

I am at a point in my life now that I want to change but Tbh I don’t know how. I want to regain respect for myself and I would like to change peoples opinion of me or better yet not care. This has sent me into a major mental health crisis. I want to know how to reel it in and gain respect while still being true to myself. I still yearn for spark, sex and connection but I want to do it healthily. I want to take the emotional polarization and shame out of sex. Instead of not caring at all or being a crazy obsessive smothering weirdo and throwing myself at someone then feeling like an idiot for falling so hard. So maybe dates in public, counting actions over words and putting time in between the spark and the sex.

I am still struggling with what to do about social media. I mean I need to chill on the provocative selfies, attention seeking posts, and entertaining anyone that messages me… but I still like to be noticed. I want to post selfies and I think dirty memes are funny. Anyway this is long. I am still figuring shit out. And I can’t just look at empathy without taking inventory of what I could have done differently. But this post is empathy and it did help take off a small piece of that shame.

(*when I say act out sexually I don't mean I've had hundreds of partners but rather I have been quick to sexually experiment but I have also developed a "stop point". Don't get it too twisted.)

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nightincider · 7 years

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A Somewhat Skewed Guide to Listening to Taylor Swift

I wrote this for a friend a year ago who was interested in getting into Taylor Swift and had no idea where to start - this is by no means a formal review, but a casual personal overview on Taylor Swift that I thought would be amusing to post here.

Warning: unfiltered, unedited rambling :’D

Disclaimer: I confess I’m not familiar with 100% of her discography (I usually don’t listen to the bonus tracks/know all of her standalones)

Note: I will be going in chronological order of her discography even though that’s not how my journey through her stuff went

Taylor Swift (2006)

don’t listen to this if you actually hate country music bc this is defs more on the country side of her country-pop crossover (mandolins, banjos, thankfully no annoying vocal twang)

this album is a great insight to her roots as a songwriter but it’s best enjoyed if you already like her, it’s like peeking into the old diary of someone you admire

Picture to Burn - hilarious breakup song trash talking an ex about how his pickup truck is stupid (you think I’m kidding but I’m not), video is awesome and shows her band trashing his house. I once sang this at karaoke and my friend fucking died and she didn’t believe the lyrics were actually a T Swift song

Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) - a really pretty, sappy gem about a long term love

everything else I could take or leave tbh

Fearless (2008)

tbh I still don’t “get” this album bc it’s a bit immature for my tastes but I’m sure young teen me would have loved it if it came out then. But overall I feel like this album only disappoints me bc her later work is so much better. Otherwise it’s actually pretty great

Fearless - the title song for good reason, appropriate way to begin the album and starts off with the attitude of facing love with a, you guessed it, fearless outlook

Love Story - ok the Romeo & Juliet ref and the sappy lyrics are kinda cringeworthy but overlooking that it is probably one of her most well-written pop songs to date in terms of the melody, arrangement, catchiness etc and I will always have a soft spot in my heart for this

Breathe (feat. Colbie Caillat) - understated soft, sad pretty track

Forever and Always - I really love the melody in this one and the mentions of rain. This feels like the precursor to Mine (off Speak Now), except the relationship in the song didn’t actually work out

Change - notably NOT about relationships but about looking forward to positive changes and winning in life whatnot. It’s uplifting and I see it as the prequel to Long Live (from Speak Now)

everything else is not bad but doesn’t quite make my favs like this list. shoot me but I find Fifteen and You Belong With Me way overrated

Speak Now (2010)

supposedly before writing this album Swift wanted to go with the concept “Enchanted” (which is one of the songs as well) but her label told her she needed to show she was maturing and not make an album that was basically Fearless 2.0 so she opted for the idea of “Speak Now”, which is total (sometimes brutal) honesty

This album does indeed speak her mind, in the sad, happy, and even embarrassing ways (coughs the title track is about her fantasizing about crashing her ex’s wedding and stealing him away and makes comments about how the bride’s gown looks like a pastry)

Before Red, Swift released a lot of singles w/ multiple versions, usually a US (read: more country) and international (read: more pop/rock) one.

IMO, the singles on Speak Now (Mine, Back to December, Story of Us) sound way, way better on the international edition. So please try to find those versions!

Mine - please check out the international version it’s miles better than the US version (more driving rhythm/urgency, better guitar riff, the US version is too laid back IMO)

Sparks Fly - a song about undeniable chemistry, the chorus is one of my favs

Back to December - slow, sad, and beautiful. I almost cried over this. I prefer this to Dear John bc it’s not as brutal and more accessible (Dear John is great too but really hard to listen to that often). Again international version is better bc the mandolin part in the US version is annoying.

Mean - kind of childish but that’s why I love it, it’s the pop song equivalent of a kid sticking their tongue out at their bullies on the playground

The Story of Us - not as emotionally wrenching as a lot of the other breakup songs but probably the catchiest and I love the beat

Enchanted - love at first sight type song. I really like the song structure (especially how it builds up) and instrumentation, and the bridge stanza is my favorite

Better Than Revenge - T Swift doing Paramore

Innocent - T Swift doing Evanescence, also I think that song was a jab back at Kanye West lmfao

Long Live - song about taking on the world, proving ppl wrong, having great adventures, I wish I could someday feel worthy of singing this song

the one dud IMO is Never Grow Up (it’s kinda boring plus I think she was too young to write well from the perspective of a parent).

Red (2012)

This was THE album that converted me to the cult of Swift and I hope it converts you too

I confess I only really noticed the beauty of Speak Now bc I went back and listened to it properly after I got tired of spinning Red during my commute

Fun fact: I only bothered to give this album a try after my white hipster bestie (whom I had a huge gross crush on at the time) rec’d it and I was like wtf at first but he was like no really give it a shot, so I did.

Red is every bit as honest as Speak Now but it’s not as bitter or playful it’s more sad and resigned and more nostalgic, wistful, you get it...

It’s painful for me to rec my favs from it bc I’d say the ENTIRE FUCKING ALBUM but I’ll. try. /grits teeth

State of Grace - those drums! that guitar! that whole “we’re on a journey and it’s beginning” feel… this is her strongest album opening track to date (1989 totally bombed in that aspect, fuck Welcome to New York)

Red - I don’t know how a song has literally 2 unique melody lines but still manages to be so amazing. Unfair.

Treacherous - the whole excitement of falling in love with someone that you probably shouldn’t but presented in an unexpectedly tender way

All Too Well - by this point Swift has a trend of making song #5 the sad slow ballad (it’s a thing her fans have noticed). This song hits me hard on a personal level bc it reminds me of my 2.5 year relationship that ended and it’s incredibly well-written, from the lyrics reminiscing on the past to taking you back into that moment during the choruses, also the bridge just breaks me. This is probably the pinnacle of sad breakup songs and you cannot convince me otherwise

I Almost Do - All Too Well’s more timid but no less heartbreaking cousin

Holy Ground - this is kind of the banner song of the album despite not being the title track. While Red is meant to set the backdrop for this album’s themes, this song embodies the core of the album best IMO. And it has a danceable beat to boot.

Sad Beautiful Tragic - I used to skip this a lot after Holy Ground bc it’s a bit of a downer but it has an understated beauty

Starlight - want to see Swift write fanfiction? well here’s your chance. This song is about Ethel and Bobby Kennedy as teenagers. also embarrassing confession: I want to sing this at my own wedding if I ever get married someday. Best part is the piano line that evokes twinkling stars

I’m rather indifferent to the big pop singles in this album (I Knew You Were Trouble, 22, We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. They’re good but, ultimately the best stuff is the album tracks)

1989 (2014)

the album that converted a lot of pop lovers to the cult of Swift

shows a lot of growth and experimentation since Red, but Red is still personally my favorite, this one’s a close second tho

Swift has said in interviews that Red was a devastating album to write but 1989 is more about moving on from that and focusing on herself and it’s overall both more optimistic (regarding life in general) and calculated and cynical (regarding romance)

1989 is the year Swift was born, btw. Coincidentally the album has 13 tracks not counting the bonus ones and 13 is Swift’s favorite number (she was also born on Dec 13)

I have this whole conspiracy theory level of analysis going on about how this is a sequel to Red and how those two albums are linked in a way that the others aren’t

let’s get it out of the way, Welcome to New York is the obvious dud. sorry to our mutual friends who love NY but the song kind of sucks in itself oops. Like it’s very uninspired and generic

for an actual good song about NY check out Vienna Teng’s Goodnight New York

Blank Space - overplayed but I love the idea of Swift parodying what her critics think of her

Out of the Woods - it’s a song about uncertainty in a relationship and the ending is left up to interpretation and I love the repetitive chorus bc it illustrates the feeling of being trapped in the woods and seeing trees flash by you. The bridge has a personal anecdote (the brakes/stitches mentioned are from a minor snowmobile accident).

All You Had to Do Was Stay - about a dream Swift had where all she could do is say “stay” in a high pitched voice to an ex and it embarrassed her lol. Typical pining song but something about those “stays” sound way more painful than comical in practice.

Shake It Off - a good pick-me-up for the slow days and the only big single of hers I haven’t gotten utterly sick of

I Wish You Would - reminds me a lot of HAIM, and it’s oddly one song that I almost never skip when it comes up on my commute shuffle despite having heard every song on this album too many times. understated but solid.

Wildest Dreams - Swift doing Lana Del Rey better than Lana Del Rey

How You Get the Girl - cute but all I can think of is her cat in the Diet Coke commercial that used this song

This Love - I feel like this is the song tying the album together, it’s the most vulnerable track and the one flame of hope amidst all the jadedness that pervades the album regarding romance. It’s kind of meta in some way like it describes not only T Swift the character in the album but also possibly T Swift the person? This song is very important to me.

I Know Places - kind of a darker sound (for her)

Clean - a song about moving on from a relationship, I’m already biased towards this bc Imogen Heap worked on it but it’s really beautiful, and I love when Heap’s harmonies come in.

New Romantics - the freakin song of our generation, the lyrics are so fucking real I can’t even

misc/standalones

Safe and Sound (feat. the Civil Wars) - from the Hunger Games OST, it’s pure folk goodness

Sweeter than Fiction - the happy ending we all want. has a bit of a beach-rock vibe to it with a very 80s production

Ronan - written for a child who died from cancer, it’s beautiful and sad

Thank you for reading if you’ve even made it this far and I hope I didn’t overwhelm you, happy listening! :D

#Taylor Swift #Taylor Swift Fearless #Taylor Swift Speak Now #Taylor Swift Red #Taylor Swift 1989

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kunstmull · 6 years

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Suddenly doing a bit of a nostalgia, over the days when ILX was still good.

I had completely forgotten why I had thought Stephen Reynolds was such an odious prick, but thanks to the ghosts of Tom E’s past for reminding me his greatest hits of 1999 included this:

As for pop.... It was a great year for teenage girls, and for substantially older male rockcrits who imagine they can somehow inhabit the consciousness of teenage girls (the motivation? something to do with the idea that teenage girls are more "authentic", precisely through being innocent of a notion of "authenticity"). These demographic constituencies aside, for everybody else, face it, 1999 sucked.

Tom E’s response, reminds me why I put so much time and energy into ILX in those days...

This negation of taste lies behind the widespread difficulty pop-haters have in accepting that someone can enjoy pop innocently, without ulterior motives, when they are aware of other musics. A love of pop can be routinely dismissed as either ironic - I affect to like Britney in the full knowledge that her records are rubbish - or motivated by ideology or a desire to shock. It's this attitude that Simon Reynolds is getting at when he takes (in his excellent-as-usual 'Overrated Of 1999' piece) a shot at critics who praise pop for a kind of 'authenticity' based on its very lack of 'authenticity'.

Reynolds puts this down to a desire to "inhabit the consciousness" of teenage girls, which in my case at least misses the mark. I think teenage girls get a bum deal in music criticism, especially when you consider how the petty nonconformities of teenage boys get such respect, but I wouldn't want to or know how to be one. I just find the blatant entertainment ethos and capitalistic outlook of Top Forty pop less bullshit-ridden than its NME-featured alternative equivalent - so in that sense, at least, Reynolds is right and my love of pop is about its 'authenticity'. Or rather, my love of pop seems to spring from a misanthropic disgust at the assumptions underlying all the rest of pop discourse.

Just neatly skewing the low-level casual misogyny underlying the assumptions of Reynold’s assertions.

I miss those heady early days of Poptimism. But one can’t step into the same river twice. I know that word means something else now, apparently. And, as someone else said, on that ILM thread where I found that, Poptimism has given way to a terrifying, algorithmicly derived Poptimisation - Spotify Hipster Boyfriend run amok.

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jadenthemagician · 8 years

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Task 12: Muse Booster

Name: Jaden Harkness

Height: 5′5″

Age in Story: 24

Birthplace: Manhattan, New York

Hair (color, length, style): Brunette hair currently cut in a short bob that she never allows to grow past just above the shoulder. Jaden typically keeps it straight, but on occasion will style it with some loose, fun curls or waves.

Race/Nationality: White; American with Italian ethnicity

Regional Influences: New York, California

Accent (voice, style of speech, slang, signature words/phrases): Some would often claim that Jaden speaks with a “New York accent,” although it’s very subtle, especially since she’s lived in California for the last six years.

Religion: Agnostic

Marital Status: Unmarried and “seeing” several different people

Scars/Other Notable Physical Attributes: She has a very small beauty mark on her right cheek. She also has an arrow tattoo on her right arm.

Handicaps (physical, emotional, mental): She’s kind of emotionally inept and allergic to commitment, I feel like that counts.

Athletic? Inactive? Overall health?: Very athletic. She likes to keep in shape and works out one way or another at least five times a week.

Style of Dress: Jaden’s style tends to waver from punk, bad-ass “Shadowhunter” style to extravagant, elegant, business professional. The former typically consists of mainly darker colors, skinny jeans, crop tops or tank tops, leather jackets, denim or leather hoodies, and combat boots or Converse sneakers. The other look is more for formal or business events with Jaden donning tight-fitting, chic and expensive dresses (usually of a shorter cut to show off her legs), feminine blouse and skirt/pencil skirt/slim cut pants ensemble, usually paired with nice flats or killer heels. She does have an in-between look where she’ll wear skinny jeans and a nice shirt with comfortable flats or boots.

Favorite Colors: Dark, jewel tone colors; black, red, green, blue, gold

How does character feel about appearance? Uh, she’s hot and she knows it. That’s why she’s Pride of the Nephilim.

Any siblings?: Cyrus Harkness, her younger brother

Relationship with parents?: Jaden gets along well with her parents, but she may harbor some deep inner passive hatred towards them for not giving her the attention she wanted. As the oldest, her father pushed for grooming her to eventually become the perfect heir of his company, and while Jaden possesses the skills and cutthroat nature to thrive in the business world, she’d much rather be an actress and become famous, and this put an invisible strain on her relationship with her father that is probably mostly one-sided from her point of view.

Memories about childhood?: She remembers growing up always being with Avalon, Monroe, and eventually Cyrus a lot when their parents were putting together the new business. She was glad to have them around and Avalon and Monroe became important people in her life.

Educational background? (Street smart? Book smart?): She attended Pansaw University with a degree in Theater Arts and Business. She’s both book smart and street smart.

Work Experience: After graduating, Jaden got a small job as a frequent entertainer, performing an incredible magic act a few nights a week at some of the local clubs. While it wasn’t a contracted job, she’d also work as a psychic in the park, telling people their fortunes in exchange for cash.

Where does the character live now? Describe home. (Emotional atmosphere & physical): She currently moved out of her apartment and lives in the luxurious mansion with the rest of the Nephilim. The atmosphere ranges from tense (either from anger or sexual frustration) to the fun and pleasant environment of a college dorm where the suitemates all get along, depending on the day.

Neat or messy?: A little bit of both, but she tends to be a bit more of an “organized mess” when it comes to her room.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Morals: To summarize, Jaden willingly joined a Metahuman supremacist group with the shared goal to dominate human existence and take over the world as royalty or gods, enslaving the human race and anyone who opposes them. She’s not against using her powers or her fists to harm or kill others, even if they are undeserving it, so yeah, I’d say her morals are pretty skewed.

Activities: Sex, Krav Maga, kickboxing, running

Friends? Pets?: Avalon, Mari, Scarlett, and Hunter are definitely her closest friends

Enemies? Why?: Anyone who thinks Metas are inferior beings, because she will gladly prove them wrong.

Basic Nature: Jaden is always charismatic, confident, proud, bold, with a snarky and cutthroat edge to her, but to those who really know her see a somewhat kinder and gentler side to her that only they are deserving of.

Personality Traits: Charismatic, charming, outgoing, determined, strong-willed, intelligent, judgmental, daring, competitive, cutthroat, manipulative, dangerous, creative

Strongest/Weakest Traits: Her strongest traits are definitely her determination, intelligence, and confidence. Her weakest trait would be her ability (or more of a slight lack of) to properly understand and respect others’ emotions.

What do they fear?: Jaden’s biggest fear is becoming human and losing her powers. She’s come to see her gifts as the most special thing about herself, and without them, she’d feel like nothing.

What are they proud of?: Everything about herself, but especially her magic and how powerful she is.

Outlook on life: Life ain’t perfect, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be. She has the capacity to make a great change in the world.

Ambitions: Her primary ambition at the moment is to help the Nephilim achieve their goal of Meta world domination and the enslavement of humanity. A personal goal for herself is to become a famous actress.

Politics: Jaden doesn’t pay a lot of attention or mind to much of politics except for certain issues. She claims she finds them boring, although she’s slowly starting to educate herself on political views. One of the biggest issues she follows is about Metahumans, and she believes that “equal rights are for pussies; let’s just rule the motherfuckers.”

How do they see themselves?: “God’s gift to the world,” in a nutshell. She considers herself an attractive and powerful woman with the ability and skills to conquer the world and whatever else she sets her mind to.

How are they seen by others?: Other people have described her as “crazy,” “evil,” “twisted,” “hot,” etc.

Do I (the writer) like this person? Why? Why not?: I find Jaden to be an interesting and fun character to play, but I probably would not end up liking her as a person. She’s way too wild and rambunctious for my tastes, and I just wouldn’t trust her.

Most Important Thing About Them: Her magic and her strength of power.

Present Problem: Her current problem is that she feels like the Nephilim (especially the council before Uriel’s return) has been divided in terms of feelings and favoritism, and that could be stagnating their progress towards world domination.

How it will get worse: While the logical answer to this would be that a divided council would result in a broken group, it actually appears as if the “divide” Jaden’s been feeling has started being repaired.

Their goals in this story?: Her goals are to take out the government and start a new government run by the Nephilim.

What traits will help/hurt them in achieving this goal?: Her creativity, determination, cutthroat nature, and strength definitely.

What makes them different from similar characters?: Jaden could be compared to the typical villain wishing for world domination, but what makes her different is that she does have the capability to change her ways. While I don’t see it happening, there is actually some good inside her that shows in small ways like defending and caring for her friends and family, but it would take the right circumstances to really pull her out of the “evil” phase.

Why will readers remember this character vividly?: She’s a villain with levels of layers that readers can slowly unravel and discover more about her.

#wotna task

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citizentruth-blog · 6 years

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On the Decline of U.S. Manufacturing (and No, It's Not All About Automation) - YOUR NEWS

New Post has been published on https://citizentruth.org/on-the-decline-of-u-s-manufacturing-and-no-its-not-all-about-automation/

On the Decline of U.S. Manufacturing (and No, It's Not All About Automation)

While automation is widely believed to be the key to manufacturing job losses in the United States, more recent research suggests globalization and practices by competitors like China have made more of a difference than otherwise might have been believed. (Photo Credit: Joshua Schnalzer/Flickr/Creative Commons)

Ready for a deep dive into economic trends and theory facing the American manufacturing sector? I get it—the topic may not be an altogether sexy one—but the implications that accompany these trends are important ones, so bear with me for a bit.

Gwynn Guilford, reporting for Quartz, recently penned an excellent analysis of the United States’ effective stagnation when it comes to growth in the manufacturing sector, an eventuality that even trained data-driven economists have misinterpreted by viewing manufacturing more holistically. She begins her piece by talking about Donald Trump decrying globalization as a job killer on the campaign trail, and this being dismissed by economists and other data-driven analysts as rhetoric in favor of automation as the dominant explanation for job loss in the States.

As Guilford tells it, though, Trump was closer to the truth than a lot of experts might otherwise have entertained—though for reasons he likely can’t iterate, so let’s not give the Devil too much of his due.

First, a matter of context. According to Guilford, who cites data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics, manufacturing employment has declined by more than 25% since 2000, to the tune of some 20 million jobs. At the same time, however, the manufacturing sector’s output has continued to increase despite the job loss, roughly in line with growth in the U.S.’s gross domestic product (GDP). The easy explanation for this is that advances in management, skill, and—you guessed it—technology have made manufacturing processes more efficient, yielding superior output and production when adjusting for inflation.

True as these justifications for industrial improvement may be, though, there is still the matter of the paradox created with respect to rising output and concomitant declining employment in the manufacturing sector. Here’s where the economic theory comes into play. Susan Houseman, economist and specialist in matters of globalization, in conjunction with Federal Reserve economists, looked at detailed statistics regarding calculations of manufacturing output.

As Guilford explains, integral to understanding what Houseman and her colleagues saw is how economists assess year-to-year measurements. Not only do they look at the raw numbers of finished products made from one period to the next minus the costs of production (a principle known as “value added”), but they adjust for changes in price and product quality. The problem with measuring things in this way, meanwhile, is that adjustments based on assumptions of value can be misinterpreted as or otherwise confounded with sales data, making it seem as if the country is selling more goods than it is.

As Houseman et al. contend, this is precisely what’s happening with the consensus analysis of the U.S. manufacturing sector, and one relatively small subsector is skewing the observed data: computers. The evidence of this is alarming when controlling for the computing industry in plotting private industry and manufacturing growth over time. Between 1947 and 1977, graphs of statistics recorded by the Bureau of Economic Analysis show growth of manufacturing and private industry largely in step, on a steady incline. From 1977 on, however, taking computers out of the manufacturing equation creates a stark downward departure for the Manufacturing, Less Computers line. As Guilford puts a cap on this, “By 2016, real manufacturing output, sans computers, was lower than it was in 2007.”

In other words, the health of the American manufacturing sector looks to be dangerously overstated, and while automation did, of course, occur here, Guilford points to evidence that globalization and trade may have done more damage than previously considered. In this regard, China, a frequent target of Donald Trump’s as he stumped for votes, indeed plays a central role.

China’s emergence as a major exporter of goods is estimated by one group of economists as costing America over 2 million jobs from 1999 to 2011, helped by competitive advantages in the form of artificially devalued currency and cheaper labor, and exacerbated by the strengthening of the U.S. dollar, which reduced the demand for American exports. But American leadership is not without its culpability herein. As economists Justin Pierce and Peter Schott argue, China’s joining of the World Trade Organization as a member in 2001 negated the ability of the U.S. to retaliate against Chinese currency manipulation and other protectionist policies, a situation Bill Clinton, among others, encouraged as President of these United States.

In addition, going back to the notion of automation as a job killer, there are some logical flaws in the emphasis on this cause being a primary driving force. For one, as Guilford bluntly puts it, robots “have to work somewhere.” Given the statistic that more than 75,000 manufacturing plants in the U.S. closed between 2000 and 2014, for overall manufacturing output to increase, other factors would have to be at play. There’s also the matter of the United States lagging behind other developed nations such as Korea, Singapore, Germany, and Japan regarding use of robotics. The numbers, as they say, don’t add up.

Thus, if anyone or anything should get a wag of the finger, according to Gwynn Guilford, it’s “two decades of ill-founded policymaking,” the kind that “put diplomacy before industrial development at home, offering the massive American consumer market as a carrot to encourage other countries to open up their economies to multinational investment.” In doing so, we as a nation dismissed the threat of foreign competition and accepted (and continue to accept) the popular narrative that automation was and is the major driver of job extinction.

What’s particularly problematic about this mindset is that it obscures the importance of manufacturing to the U.S. economy and as a provider of skills to American workers. With production facilities closing their doors, there’s less incentive to do the kind of research and development that leads to better, more competitive products. As you might expect, too, the brunt of the costs of manufacturing’s decline outside of the computing subsector have been borne by the middle class, while the lion’s share of the benefits of globalization has been reaped by the so-called urban professional elite and multinational corporations.

In turn, politically and socially speaking, the country has become increasingly unequal and more polarized. All of these elements suddenly seem tailor-made for Trump and his faux populism to swoop in and capture an upset victory as he did in the 2016 election. The man struck a nerve in the heart of blue-collar America. Predictably and unfortunately, though, he hasn’t done much to boost U.S. manufacturing, instead focusing on tariffs and pushing the nation to the brink of a trade war with any number of entrants willing to fight back, and ignoring the currency manipulation angle that validates, in part, his anti-China tirades. Not that this exculpates the Democrats, either, whom Guilford characterizes as possessing “no vision for how to reverse the industrial backslide.”

All of this paints a fairly grim picture of the outlook for the manufacturing sector moving forward, as it does for the country’s susceptibility to divisive rhetoric and strongmen like Trump. To quote Guilford in closing:

US leaders’ longstanding misunderstanding of the manufacturing industry led to the biggest presidential election upset in American history. But they still don’t seem to grasp what’s been lost, or why. It’s easy to dismiss the disappearance of factory jobs as a past misstep—with a “we’re not getting those jobs back” and a sigh. Then again, you can’t know that for sure if you never try.

It’s one thing for political leaders, often derided as out of touch with John and Jane Q. Public, to misunderstand the issues about which they profess to know—assuming they ever understood in the first place. When economic analysts are falling prey to the same faulty reasoning, however, it doesn’t instill a great deal of confidence in those of us less well-versed in such matters. The most inspiring sentiment here is Guilford’s seeming doubt about whether or not the jobs we take for granted are really lost for good, that we don’t know for sure one way or another. Then again, we have to try first, and based on the current state of affairs, that’s no guarantee.

Considerations of the stagnation of American manufacturing accompany this week’s not-so-great news for workers amid an ongoing assault on workers’ rights from the political right. In a 5-4 decision that saw conservatives comprise the majority, the Supreme Court ruled that employers can compel their employees to sign arbitration agreements in which they waive their rights to bring class-action suits against the employer. Justice Neil Gorsuch, while indicating this practice of company management is “debatable,” nonetheless found that federal arbitration law does not conflict with the National Labor Relations Act, a piece of legislation in place since 1935 governing the rights of employers and employees alike, and designed to protect the ability of the latter to collectively bargain and form trade unions.

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, meanwhile, speaking in dissent, was unequivocal in her negative assessment of the ruling, calling it “egregiously wrong,” and offering these additional sentiments on the matter:

The court today holds enforceable these arm-twisted, take-it-or-leave-it contracts—including the provisions requiring employees to litigate wages and hours claims only one-by-one. Federal labor law does not countenance such isolation of employees.

As the “Notorious RBG” finds, these agreements are evocative of the so-called “yellow dog” contracts used by employers until being outlawed in 1932 that barred workers from forming or participating in unions as a condition of employment. Now more than 85 years removed from a legislative remedy to such lopsided bargains, to know that we are potentially moving backward on the subject of workers’ rights is frightening.

Ginsburg isn’t the only one painting this decision in such ominously historical terms either. While the Court didn’t specifically address discrimination in the workplace with this ruling, civil rights advocates have expressed their fear it will set a precedent that will allow employers to skirt their responsibility concerning claims of discrimination and harassment in the workplace. Add to this fears that a conservative majority ruling in Janus v. AFSCME could strip unions of their ability to collect “fair share” fees from non-members who nonetheless benefit from union representation, and there is any number of reasons for concern for the fate of American unions and the imbalance of political power fueled and perpetuated by moneyed interests.

As with intervening to attempt to save manufacturing jobs, the impetus should be on lawmakers and the country’s leadership to steer the nation in the right direction on upholding workers’ rights, a point Ruth Bader Ginsburg emphasized in her dissent. At least as long as Republicans control both Congress and the White House, however, any pushback on efforts to undermine organized labor appears unlikely, especially while establishment Democrats fail to rise more strongly to its defense until it’s time to campaign—and even then there are failings, as the story of Hillary Clinton’s 2016 electoral loss demonstrates. A year-and-a-half after the fact, one is left to wonder what lessons, to be exact, the Dems have learned from their defeats of previous years.

Donald Trump was closer than he probably realized to the truth about China’s role in the United States’ manufacturing woes, and it got him to the White House. Until we as a nation get better at diagnosing this reality and abandoning the “robots took our jobs” narrative, crafting proactive-minded policy to adapt to the challenges of a global market, and ensuring that workers can organize and advocate for better wages and working conditions, we run the risk of similarly unqualified candidates taking advantage of the unrest that is apparent in teachers’ strikes and other walkouts which are happening, have happened, and will continue to happen—not to mention continued efflux of research and development skill, factory closures, and job loss.

On the surface, American manufacturing looks to be growing as it has in past decades. A deeper dive into the numbers, though, tells a more complete story—and one that doesn’t obviously lead to a happy ending. Let’s hope we as a country realize this before it’s too late and we fall too far behind on the world stage.

On Stormy Daniels and Problematic Storytellers

#automation #China #donald trump #globalization #manufacturing jobs #Neil Gorsuch #Ruth Bader Ginsburg #Supreme Court #U.S. manufacturing #Worker Rights

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oceanicplanets · 8 years

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It took me a long time to realize that included me. When I was younger, I could go hungry at a restaurant because I was scared to give the cashier my order, and then a few hours later, I would be on stage at my weekly drama class, strutting my stuff with my performing arts pals. My hand would often be the first to shoot up in the classroom, but I once burst into tears when I had to read an essay of mine aloud. I baffled my parents and my friends—the drama kids couldn’t figure out why I turned into a wallflower offstage, and everyone else in my life didn’t know what to make of me when I wasn’tacting shy.To put it simply, I was TERRIFIED of negative attention. I’d rather freeze up and not do anything at all than say the wrong thing and be criticized for it. At the same time, I was hungry for praise, and I structured my life around getting a lot of it. I was good in school, so I spoke up in class and took every extracurricular that I had room for. Teachers loved me and I won academic awards left and right. Drama allowed me to express myself without having to come up with my own words, and as long as I worked really hard to please the director, I couldn’t go wrong—at least not until I left school. My community-theater dreams were shattered by three failed auditions, and afterwards I stuck to classes and clubs, where I was always guaranteed parts.This anxiety didn’t end in the classroom. I’m a naturally shy person, and I used to want all my interactions to go perfectly, so I practically wrote them out in advance, always terrified that the other person would go off-script and force me to think on my feet. If I was ordering food, for example, I’d expect the waitress to ask what I wanted, I’d tell her, then she would leave. If she unexpectedly asked me what toppings or sides I wanted with my burger, I was rattled and took WAY too long to decide. Or, worse, she might be chatty and ask a completely unrelated question about my day, and now my whole narrative was off and I wouldn’t know how to answer. Do I just say “good” or do I give a full rundown, and then how do I segue back to my order, and oh no, I’m taking too long to answer and I look like an idiot, WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME? Basically, even the prospect of feeling awkward counted as negative attention, which made me more awkward, because now I was this creepy quiet girl who would turn into stone when asked to do ordinary things like order a hamburger.I can’t tell you how many times my parents cajoled me into doing something I didn’t want to do, like cash a check at the bank, and then I’d make a tiny little mistake, like writing down my routing number instead of my account number, and I’d stutter a little bit but pretend to laugh it off even though I was dying inside, because I’d made a stupid mistake and now that teller was thinking that I was a dumb teenager who didn’t know how banking works. I’d get outside and yell at my parents “DID YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENED? You made me do this and it all went wrong and don’t you feel terrible?” And they’d just shake their heads wondering where they went wrong raising me.In those cases, my social anxiety was extreme and noticeable, but I think the more damaging stress I dealt with is something that many, many people experience: I was working so hard to be perfect that I took any sort of reprimand or critique or social misstep as a judgment on my character.As you can imagine, school was a minefield. When I was six or seven, I once got caught climbing a tree on the playground, and I’ll never forget how sick I felt after my teacher yelled at me to get down. It was like I’d done something very, very wrong and it could never be rectified. I couldn’t understand why all my friends, who’d also gotten scolded, were able to happily play somewhere else—it took me all day to get over it.In high school, I wanted to get good marks on all my assignments, because being an honors student earned me the praise I desired, but also because when I didn’t live up to my high standards, I’d be crushed. Math was my weak point, and the few Cs that made it onto my report cards stood out as black marks that would forever paint me as a failure. Even constructive criticism could shake me up, like the note I once got on a creative writing assignment to come up with a “punchier ending.” The teacher loved the piece, but the ending was mediocre and now that I was aware of it, I felt terrible for turning in that piece of crap.That same sick feeling I got as a kid after climbing that tree was triggered any time I did something wrong, like accidently hurt someone’s feelings or make a mistake at work. A gentle reprimand—“you did this incorrectly, please fix it, and don’t do it again”—sounded to me like someone screaming at me. I once forgot to return a book I’d borrowed from school before summer break, and I’m not exaggerating at all when I say it took me about EIGHT YEARS to be able to hear the name Nancy Drew without feeling shame. I was certain that the teacher who lost it harbored a grudge against me, so I hid the book in my room and spent the next decade or so fighting random spikes of anxiety whenever I thought about it.After high school, criticism becomes even more common, while praise is harder to come by. College professors don’t get excited just because you understand the coursework, and your manager at the big box store you’re working at on weekends probably won’t even notice you unless you screw up. It was a big change, and it forced me to make an important adjustment: I had to start looking to myself for encouragement. Was this essay/poster/poem something I could be proud of? Did I do the best I could? Did I have fun doing it? I started doing photography as a hobby, just so I could look at all my pretty pictures, and spent ridiculous amounts of time on projects that had no purpose except for the fun of creating them, like the time I started making wall art out of old sticky notes. And this was surprisingly easy—it turned out that pride in yourself for hard work feels just as good as praise from another person.Learning to deal with criticism, on the other hand, was much harder. My constant fear of failure was starting to interfere with my schoolwork, because I’d procrastinate to stave off the possibility of not excelling, and then I’d turn in less-than-stellar work anyway, because I didn’t give myself enough time to complete it. So my freshman year of college, I made the big decision to see a school counselor. And, man, I wish I’d done it a lot earlier.One of the very first things my counselor did was ship me off to a doctor for anti-anxiety medication. Once I was on the right cocktail of pills, I felt like a new person. Suddenly, talking was a little less scary, and the shame of failure was much more fleeting. (Not everyone who has anxiety needs drugs to cope, but if you feel it’s interfering with everyday life, I do recommend at least talking to your doctor.) I also started therapy, and my counselor really helped change my outlook on the world. In some cases, I just needed practice. She’d give me assignments to do things I found terrifying, like asking for a job application at a local fast-food restaurant, and I slowly gained more confidence in my ability to handle these kinds of interactions. Most of my fears of rejection were in my head—no one ever told me, “Wow, you really effed up that conversation!”I also talked about other things that were bothering me, and I got some clarity. Everyday schoolwork just wasn’t important enough for me to feel so stressed about it, and furthermore, it was OK to fail. I took this message in, and when I started to crash and burn in college biology, I didn’t force myself to stick it out. I accepted that biology and I were just never going to get along, and I dropped the course. Just a year before, I would have berated myself for weeks this for doing this, but now I only felt relief.A year or two after I graduated high school, I had a conversation with my old algebra teacher. I said something about being bad at math, and he told me that I was never bad at math—my other classes just came so easily to me that I didn’t know what it was like to struggle to learn something. He pointed out that many of my classmates celebrated when they got a C. My perspective had been so skewed that I assumed I had really embarrassed myself by not being the best, and that others thought less of me as a result.I realize now no one is thinking as hard about me as I am. That teacher on the playground was just worried that I’d fall, and she probably forgot about the incident five minutes later, while I’m still thinking about it 15 years later. My creative writing teacher just wanted to help me improve my story. Waitresses and bank tellers have dealt with literally thousands of small mistakes and awkward moments over the years.Earlier today, I made a rather large mistake at my day job, resulting in my having to send a correction email to several thousand people. It was really, really embarrassing. But instead of retreating in panic and begging my boss not to fire me, I calmly apologized and then wrote a self-deprecating Facebook post so that EVERYONE had an opportunity to laugh at me. It felt a lot better than mentally beating myself up.On the flip side, with the understanding that my failures were not permanent came the knowledge that most of my accomplishments have been similarly fleeting. My academic awards have done absolutely nothing for me apart from a few moments of pride and fodder for scholarship applications. Most of the compliments I got from my drama teacher are just fuzzy memories today.I’m not saying that any of this was worthless. Being a good student served me well, but not because my teachers loved me—rather because it gave me skills and opportunities to move on in life. It’s important to work hard and nurture ambition, but for the right reasons—not to escape criticism, but because it makes you happy. It’s better to learn from your mistakes than not to make them at all. ♦

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