#and stop voicing your ‘take’ on racism in the meantime

[quibble-squibble]

just so enthused that we’re gonna have a whole repeat of white people losing their minds and cooing over their precious white queen “redeeming” herself from her malicious violent racism despite multiple poc speaking out on how poorly written it is and how it prioritizes white comfort over minorities.

it already took YEARS for white people in this fandom to accept the original issues with Weiss’ racism & the WF problem as a whole (many still don’t), and now IQ has just brought them out of the woodworks to deny her racism and claim it’s just the nightmare grimm and it’s all totally not her fault guys!! they essentially strip her of personal accountability so she can be the perfect victim that needs to be “saved” from her own bigotry.

yes the nightmare is is exacerbating her fears and portraying faunus accordingly but that is still because of her own personal ingrained beliefs. it is using what is there to do this to her. it is on weiss and no one else to deconstruct and reevaluate her own bigotry.

i’m sick of it. i am so sick of people prioritizing the racist’s feelings over the actual minorities being harmed. they don’t care about racism or poc and their struggles, they just want their white queen to be the ideal damsel even if it involves silencing poc when they criticize the racism within this writing.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Well Behaved One (Flip Zimmerman x Reader)

This was requested by an anon. I wasn’t thinking about writing about Flip but since he is one of the few cops I would trust I thought why not. Also for future reference this page is ACAB, pro choice, anti gun, LGBTQIA+ friendly, mental health advocate and ally to everyone. So don’t come up here with some bullshit cause I won’t hesitate to talk some shit, alright? Enjoy

(y/n) was a bit of trouble for her family, fighting the boys that messed with her in kindergarten, playing with the “black kids” although she played with them cause they were the only ones that wanted to play with her, as she got older she would talk back to teachers, question the ethics of what they were teaching, now she was a college student, studying arts-which made her parents go crazy- and still standing up for what she thought was basic human decency.

“You don’t have to drag me I can walk”

Her voice was heard in the police station, making a lot of heads turn-including flips- as she walked in with her head high, hands handcuffed behind her back and an almost prideful smirk on her lips. The two policemen took her in one of the investigation rooms and another police man came in the station with a swollen nose.

“What happened?”

Ron asked. Flip was intrigued about finding out who made the bigot policeman bleed before he got the chance.

“Womens rights march, she punched a cop in the face”

“feisty”

“That’s why flip will interrogate her”

“Wait what? why?”

“Cause it’s your turn now”

Flip got up and started walking towards the room. He had to admit he wanted to see up close the ace of the female that dared to do such thing that a lot of people in this office wanted to do, cause to be honest he was a complete asshole.

Flip walked in and saw a pissed off woman wearing a black leather jacket, black shirt and a pair of jeans with black boots, her hair was up in a ponytail and maybe a tad bit of make up. Her expression was harsh and she was ready to punch someone if given the chance.

“Hello miss-flips pages- (y/l/n), I am officer Philip zimmerman”

“Good for you”

She fired back. Flip stayed silent and walked over, taking the key he had and freeing the girls wrists from the metal restrains they had put on rather tightly, probably to show off and make her life difficult.

She started rubbing those wrists, trying to hide the relief but also the pain she felt, it was her first time coming in the police station, but she was already taught what to do if this happened. Flip sat directly in front of her, not really knowing how to navigate this.

“I will not speak until I get a lawyer”

“You won’t need one. They haven’t charged you with anything they are just pissed off, most likely get an assault accusation but the officer will be too embarrassed to follow take your finger tips and let you go”

“He was groping on of the girls”

She stated. The only reason she went up to that cop was that she saw with her own eyes doing a “body research” and fully grab her butt, she had to do something since the girl was already scared and in tears.

“Excuse me?”

“That cop, he was searching one of us and he grabbed her by the ass, in front of everybody, the girl was crying. Anyone would have done the same”

He was left stunned, she was defending someone. He didn’t even doubt that the cop wasn’t touching the girl inappropriately, sounds exactly like something he would do.

“I understand. May I ask you a question?

“Sure, don’t have anywhere else to be at”

“Why were you there?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? This whole thing is filthy, racism, sexism whatever you want to call it, it’s like a jungle, not about who is superior or who is smarter, it’s about who hit first, who can get more aggressive first, who can pick up a gun first, we are fighting against each other. I am a white female, I look like them but I am still a female so i’m not enough, a male jew, he is a male but still a Jew, a white homosexual man, still a homo,so there is nothing really that fuels it, not a skin color, not a religious belief, it’s just about who killed who first and i’ll be dammed if I let another girl feel less than just because he did it first”

He didn’t have words to describe how he felt, in just a few minutes he became mesmerized by her mind, her words, her drive everything she said stood valid, he could say that he admired her.

“Give me a second”

With that he got out and did a straight b line to the officer that she had punched. Before that poor son a bitch could have a chance of seeing flip, flip had grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him to the wall.

“YOU SEXUALLY EXPLOITED A WOMAN? YOU FUCKING DICK”

“SHE IS FUCKING LYING, I WAS DOING MY JOB”

“hey, hey,hey Flip let him go”

Ron butted in and held Flip back. In the meantime (y/n) was brought out of the room and got to witness the whole thing. She smiled at Flip, seeing a cop defend the words of a woman was as a rare as a man helping his wife with the chores in the house.

“You are lucky she only punched you, I would have ripped your balls off you fucking dickhead”

As Flip turned his back on the scared officer he saw her, standing there with that smile again, almost like she approved of him. He went up to her and the officer that was showing her out and stopped them

“I’ll take it from here”

He said to officer and led her out of the station. He wanted to ask her out but he was afraid, of what you may ask? he didn’t know either, getting punched in the face, getting rejected, telling him she had a boyfriend.

“The charges were dropped”

“I told you, too embarrassed”

 She made chit chat, that was a good sign of him succeeding but something in the back of his head made him second guess his words.He was running out of time as they got closer to the door.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

“What?”

“I am asking you out, like for a coffee”

She was asking him out? Well nothing really should surprise him coming from her, he ha to admit he was relieved she said it first so he wouldn’t look like a complete dickhead

“Aren’t you afraid to be seen with one of the pigs?”

“It’s alright, you are a well behaved one”

[trillian-anders]

amor de mi vida - 1949

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 3362

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

Sunset Park was ever growing with Hispanic population, in the years since you and your Mother came to New York the population had grown and people, while still not allowing certain people to mix, there was a little less of a stigma of someone brown walking down the street. Surprisingly enough the property you’d found was right across the street from the bodega where Bucky had first dragged you in trying to buy bread and the man refused you. It straddled the line of the Hispanic and white population in Brooklyn. 

It was the perfect spot. 

The upstairs level would be for sewing and crafting, the downstairs would house the shop and sales. Bucky and George painted the upstairs and downstairs, fit new light fixtures, and fixed the shoddy wiring that hadn’t been worked on, you were convinced, since electric light had been invented. 

“What do you think?” He asked, coveralls splattered with paint and sweat on his brow. You grin up at him, 

“I love it.” 

The women you’d been selling dresses to over the past few years now had somewhere to shop and you could sell more products standardly while offering tailoring services. A big, ‘EVERYONE WELCOME’ sign in the front window. Which means you had to hire more people. You stuck to hiring women, the women who wanted to work in your community.  

You figured things were going pretty well, until the first time you were vandalized. Broken glass and a clear message of not being welcome a month into opening. You couldn’t help but figure it might have something to do with the man across the street who seemed to remember your faces. 

He stood there now, arms crossed. Lips pressed so tight they almost disappeared from his face. You huff, trying not try cry as the girls help you sweep up the glass. You called Bucky, knowing he was home with the kids, from the back office. 

“The front window is shattered.” You couldn’t help but cry when you heard his voice. 

“Okay,” He sighed, you could hear Grant fussing in the background, “Let me call my Pa and I’ll see what we can do.” The police didn’t care, but George was the one who originally talked to the inspectors and bank having already started his own business before. 

He had someone out in an hour to fix the window and to install new, easier to pull down, grate for them. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, he’d finally got the kids to sleep. The excitement of Mama coming home and a quick dinner had been followed by a carefully orchestrated bath and bedtime routine. Now it was just the two of you, and the bottle of wine you’d opened. 

“We are very lucky,” You start, “In New York they haven’t banned us being together, they segregate, sure, but we have a good amount of people who believe in integration. We don’t have a lot of problems with prejudice so sometimes I forget.” His hand met the back of your neck, massaging. “It’s just a little bit of a wake-up call.” 

He shrugs, “I thought that now Jackie Robinson was playing for the Dodgers that people would be a little more accepting.” You glare at him and he laughs. “If we are being honest here...” Bucky sighs, taking a sip from his glass, “I worry about our kids.” He leans further into the couch, “I worry all the time about the day we have to send Jaime to school, I worry about them playing outside. I worry about things happening to you and the kids when I’m not here.” 

People respected Bucky Barnes. He was a war hero, right hand man to Captain America himself. You lost count of the amount of times you’d take the kids for a walk and be stopped. Women wanting his autograph and men wanting to thank him for his service to the country. There was a level of protection there. It was possible that it was keeping you and your children safe. Not out of the realm of thought. Especially when you were actually with him out. 

Without him was tight smiles and folks crossing the street to avoid you, like you were some kind of threat to them. 

You lay your legs on his lap, wordlessly asking him to rub your aching feet. You’d worked the floor all day, first cleaning up glass and then helping with customers and you did four fittings in the afternoon. He drains his glass and begins to rub your stocking clad feet. 

“How was the shop today besides the window?” Thumbs digging into the sole of your foot you moan, letting your head roll back against the armrest of the couch. 

“Good, we sold ten dresses.” He switched to a different foot, “I think Amara and Rosalyn are a little more than friends.” He pauses, looking at you. 

“Like?” You nod. 

“Huh.” He shrugs, “That makes a lot more sense.” The two women, your first employees, told you they moved in together to save money and were tired of living in the boarding house. With their savings they bought a cute little property not far from the store. They also adopted a few animals. 

“What did you think?” He shakes his head, 

“I just thought they were strange.” They always seemed so fidgety, like they were doing something suspicious when you weren’t in the room, but it would make sense of having the fear of getting caught. An interracial marriage some could be okay with, but a same-sex marriage? That was a whole different story. 

His fingers danced their way up your skirt, to your hose, removing the stay ups slowly, keeping eye contact, while massaging your foot with his other hand his fingers slipped under the hose and rolled the first one down your leg. Then the other. 

“I missed you today.” He whispered, kissing your ankle. “We all missed you today.” He tapped your leg, tugging gently on your thigh to get you to sit up, straddling his lap. His erection was already straining against his trousers. You ground yourself against him, meeting his lips. His hands held your hips, moving you against him enough to tease. “It’s so sexy,” He whispers, going for the button on his slacks, you lift up, shimmying your panties off and tossing them to the side. “You're going off to work,” A breathy kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as you press kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. “You’re so talented dahlin.” He groaned as you sunk down onto him, rocking your hips with his hands. “So fucking talented.” 

“Te quiero mucho.” Kisses wet and sloppy as you muffle your moans against his lips. His hand held the back of your neck, body slipping down to hover his hips off the couch, bringing your body close to his in order to thrust upward into you. Mouth pressed tightly to keep quiet while you came, fingers dipping between your thighs to strum your clit, riding out the pleasure while Bucky’s hips stuttered with release. 

“I love you too sweetheart.” Erection staying stiff inside you. He breathes and lets you collapse on top of him before sighing, “We forgot to use a rubber.” 

And just like that, pregnant again. 

You pretended to be hateful. “This is all your fault.” But Bucky just laughed. “You planned this.” Grant crawled over his shoulder, going to tumble down his back, letting Bucky catch him before he falls, laughing and doing it again. Dia and Jaime were playing with the new dollhouse she’d received for her birthday. A present that ‘Santa’ brought her, but was really bought from Macy’s and you didn’t even want to ask Winnie how much it cost. 

This pregnancy was a little rougher than the last three. You felt sick constantly and the ginger mints only did so much, aside from the fact that you started showing almost immediately. Your feet were swollen from working at the store and a rushed doctor visit was needed after you’d started spotting. 

“Bed rest.” Was what the doctor said, you’d huffed indignantly. The last three pregnancies you’d lived normally up until the day they were born and the doctor had the nerve to tell you that it was because you were older now. You weren’t even thirty yet. 

“Sweetheart,” Bucky tried to calm you down after you cursed the Doctor, “He’s an asshole, but if he’s recommending bed rest, you should probably rest.” So the keys to the shop were handed over to Amara and Rosalyn. 

“I hate this.” You grumbled, the kids were a mess today, and you felt very stressed. You couldn’t do anything right for Jaime, Dia seemed to want nothing to do with you, and Grant was throwing a tantrum over a soft breeze. “When are you coming home?” You could hear him pause on the other end, 

“About an hour left and I should be on my way.” The longest hour of your life. 

The sickness, the bleeding, the swollen feet. You’d been blessed with twins by the way your belly was measuring. “You did this.” And Bucky laughed. 

You sat in Peggy’s kitchen, snacking on a cheese plate she layed out for the two of you, grumbling about it. 

“He doesn’t know what it’s like.” Peggy, radiant as ever, nods in understanding, “In the seven years of our marriage I’ve been pregnant for four of them. The other three he was gone.” Every year you’d been together resulting in pregnancy. Jaime and Dia within months of each other. Grant a little while after that, and then a break in between him and now. “I love my kids,” You defend, “But you’ll understand when you have them.” You sigh, rubbing your belly, “It’s difficult.”

“I’m not sure Steve and I are ready quite yet.” She laughs, “Our work is dangerous,” She wasn’t joking. You knew their apprehensions, you felt them every time Bucky walked out the door. You weren’t sure if he was coming home or not, every time. “But I’m living vicariously through you in the meantime.” The playpen was set up in the living room, the three kids in view of you, playing quite loudly to the noise of the radio. The boys were out back, fixing loose shingles on the roof. 

“You can take one if you want,” You joke, arching your back trying to relieve some of the pain. Bucky stepped inside behind Steve, grabbing a drink from the fridge he lays a sweaty kiss on your cheek before going over to the chorus of Papa from their sitting room. Dia was the one who wanted his attention the most, her little feet climbing up on the gate and reaching her arms out to him while Grant and Jaime quickly lost interest as the noise from the radio changed. Bucky picked her up and brought her over to where you were sitting, handing her a piece of cheese to nibble on. 

“You trying to sell our kids?” He asked.

“I’m trying to give them away for free.” Another kiss to your head and a hand on your belly. 

“Baby.” Dia said. Pointing to your stomach. 

“That’s right mija,” You smiled, “You want to feel the baby?” She nods, chewing on a finger. Bucky sits her on your lap, your sweet girl’s hair was finally growing, the soft brown curls done back with a bow, she put her hands on your tummy.

“Big belly.” She whispers, tapping on your stomach. 

“There’s two babies in there mija.” She scrunches her nose, tapping on your belly again before reaching beside you for some more cheese. Bucky takes down the gate for the playpen, the other kids coming around to snack on cheese. Jaime whining to come up into your lap as well, Grant behind him. Peggy picks up Grant, settling him in her lap. Bucky taking Dia for you to let Jaime snuggle up into your lap. His body curled around your tummy, thumb in his mouth. 

“Who would have ever thought.” Steve mused, “I thought you were crazy for chasing her the way you did.” Bucky chasing you, ten years ago now. So young and naive. 

“I thank God every day that I did.” He grins at you and you could almost see the way he looked when he was seventeen, when he ran into you on the street and dragged you into a shop you knew you wouldn’t be allowed in. 

You smile back, “Me too.” When Bucky leans in for a kiss Jaime groans and pushes him away, pulling you to him and making you give him a kiss on his forehead instead. 

“Mama.” He whines, “I’m hungry.” You give Bucky a look.

“Alright mijo, let's get you something to eat.” 

Something was wrong next door. The only reason you knew that was because the house was quiet today. Bucky had taken the kids to his parent’s house so you could nap, so you heard the shouting clear as day. You slipped out of bed, and walked to the bedroom window, the window facing the side of Martha Green’s house. The shouting was loud, almost frightening. Your hand fumbled with the bedside phone, dialing quickly. 

“James,” You rest a hand on your belly, still looking out at the house, but their blinds were shut, “Something is happening next door, I think he’s hurting her.” There was a blood curdling scream you were sure he could hear, 

“Call Steve,” He said, “I’m on my way.” 

Steve didn’t answer, you placed the phone in the cradle and heard another scream. Waddling down the stairs, you knew it would take Bucky thirty minutes to get home. Another call to Steve, another unanswered call. 

You could hear glass break. And you called the police. But how far out were they? You could hear her screaming and crying. There was a gun by the front door that felt heavy in your hands, shaking and nerves you walked outside, to her house and up the stairs. You knocked on the front door, hard. 

There was a pause in noise, the gun heavy in your hand, hidden in the pocket of your house dress. The front door ripped open. You’d seen Martha’s husband a number of times and you believed Bucky when he said he didn’t think that he treated her very well. There was a wild look in his eyes and behind the small crack he opened you could see the shattered remains of what must have been their china cabinet. 

You swallow nervously, but quickly ask, “Is Martha here? I uh… I came to return this.” In a quick moment of clarity you’d grabbed the glass dish you’d left by the front door that you’d asked Bucky to take back to Winnie, you thanked God he was forgetful in that moment. His jaw was tight and he looked down at the casserole dish in your hand. 

His grip was rough on the dish, yanking it from your hand, “I’ll be sure to give it to her.” You see movement in the background, Martha. The two children hiccuping in tears as she ushered them in the closet under the stairs. You could see the bruises blooming on her face. “Is there anything else you need?” 

“I would just like to talk to her.” You found some firmness. 

“I’m sure she would not like to talk to you.” And you knew why. A spit at your feet. Your jaw clenched, your ears listened for sirens but you couldn’t hear any. It felt like it had been twenty minutes but you knew it had only been maybe five. 

“Martha!” You called behind him. His hand quickly shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you into the house. 

“You nosy fucking bitch.” Your back met the hallway wall, fingers fumbling for your gun. You quickly pulled it and aimed it at his chest. He looked startled and backed away. 

“Martha.” You could see her out of the corner of your eyes, “Grab the kids and go to my house.” She was frozen in the doorway, the anger from her husband clear on his face. “Go!”

You were shaking, which was a mistake, he rushed you. You fired the gun but it missed, the bullet embedding itself in the wall above his shoulder. He quickly grabbed your arm and brought a fist down on your face. You fired the gun again, clipping him on his arm. Screaming as you fell, hands coming to protect your belly as you fell. The gun spun out from your grip. 

Martha’s husband, the big hulking man he is, stepped over you and grabbed the gun, pointing it in your face. You gasp, coming back onto your knees, eyes springing with tears. 

“You stupid fucking bitch.” He spits, pulling the hammer back. You’ve made a mistake. Your heart in your throat you grab your belly. 

“You’re a fucking coward.” It springs from your throat before you can help it. His upper lip curling, his finger tenses on the trigger. But before he could pull it you see a flash of metal, Bucky’s hand going to grab his wrist with the gun and in one instant, disarms him and the gun, flinging the piece of metal to the side he wraps his arm around Martha’s husband’s neck, bringing him to the ground. 

When he arrived home he found a bruised and beaten Martha sitting in his den, her two sobbing kids beside her. When she told him where you were, his heart dropped. He felt like he was going to be sick. He snuck through the back door and came into the hallway through their den. Stopping the man about to take his wife away from him. 

“What were you thinking?” He would yell later. Crying. Both of you. “I told you to call Steve.”

“I did.” You were blubbery, “He didn’t answer.” Bucky sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before turning back to you and sighing heavily.

“Come here baby,” A tight hug to his chest, “I’m sorry. You were so brave, I’m sorry.” Hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried. “Please, never do that again.” You’d talked to the police, Bucky backing your story and telling them what he’d done. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

The next day Martha showed up on your doorstep, an apology pie in hand. “I just wanted to say thank you,” She was looking at her shoes. You stepped aside, inviting her in. Settled down at your kitchen table with a cup of coffee she continues, “I honestly thought he was going to kill me yesterday.” A rough swallow, “He almost killed you.” Her blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. “I’m sorry I was so jealous of seeing how your husband treated you.” Her lips swollen with bitten worry, “And I used race as an excuse to treat you poorly and for that I apologize.” Her hands shaking, you reach over to comfort her. 

“I forgive you,” a mutual cry between new friends. “Listen,” You scribble down your number on the pad by the phone. “If you need help you can always call, James’ work…”

“I know what he does.” She thumbs the paper. “He’s a good man.” You smile softly, 

“Yeah, he is.” You muse at the thought,

Ten long years have led to this. Five children and an ever passionate love between the two of you that, at first, you thought was a simple infatuation that would pass with time. But he loved you, he married you. He helped you create five beautiful children and you couldn’t help but love him endlessly for that. 

He’s shown you how intensely he loves. Every single day. And doesn’t relent, even when things had gotten a little hard. You admire him for that, and know that he was true in every sense of the word. 

His love was all consuming and with every kiss he lay on your lips the relationship between you grew more solid. 

He truly was the love of your life. 

And you were his. 

.

.

.

taglist //  @corneliabarnes​ @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @albinotigerpython​ @cake-writes​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @000bananaclip000​ @shadowbusiness @sprinkleofbooty​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @vhsbarnes​ @loseralert @wendaiii​ @mcueveryday​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous

[stormsbourne]

the homestuck epilogue, summarized by me

edited after: I’m leaving this here for my own reference but there’s a decent amount of stuff I got wrong in these. I’ve tried to correct most of it. still please don’t bother with these if, for some reason, you’re still free of this dark knowledge in the post hell 2020 timeline

there’s doubtless parts of both sides (which are actually only one side, big spoilers there) that I’m going to forget so I apologize in advance for that but I read the entire thing very quickly and some parts are more memorable than others. this is also only slightly polished up from when I posted it on discord, which I did in a tremendous hurry. so pardon the grammar

please be wary that I literally CANNOT tag this with everything there are warnings for so if you’re not sure, check the actual epilogue tag list, because literally all of it is mentioned in some capacity.

letsa go

LET’S START WITH CANDY.

john decides not to go. immediately, things start going strangely well for literally everyone, who all get exactly what he thinks they want (or what SOMEONE thinks they want, more on that later. I think it's still john doing the influencing.) davejadekat hook up. john and roxy get married. etc. gamzee gets “redeemed” by which I mean john rescues him at calliope’s request and he goes around saying he’s good now. but as always there's trouble in paradise and the things that seem to be "good endings" end up being bad. jane becomes president of earth but this leads her to become a fascist dictator who may possibly be responsible for the future genocide of trollkind (this shit is full fascist racism shit. “troll camps” are a thing.). dave and karkat are in love with each other and jade getting in with them has actually just made it harder for them to be honest with one another. gamzee basically serves no purpose except to be annoying and gross. 

at some point literally all the trolls start getting resurrected because of timeline shenanigans where the black hole is spitting out their ghosts onto earth c (which is actually inside of the black hole in paradox space somehow. don’t think too hard about it). rose and kanaya adopt a grub they name vriska to honor her sacrifice and also because it looks like vriska. john and roxy have a kid named harry anderson. jane basically rapes jake (he's drunk and also the lollipop is invovled) and conveniently gets pregnant with a kid they later name tavros. AS TIME GOES ON, karkat breaks up from djk because he's sick of it and then goes on to lead a troll rebellion against jane. jane starts cucking jake with gamzee. roxy and john break up because john is depressed and also because john is way more interested in texting terezi than in his real-life spouse. dirk kills himself for reasons that have more to do witht the construct of the meat timeline than the candy one.

all of this is slightly out of order but I’m trying to be succinct so when things get crazy I can keep the relevant details close together.

QUICK MEAT DETOUR (MEATOUR).

john decides to go. he makes a quick stop to grab the ring of life from aranea, then scoops up the other game over kids, who head off to face caliborn. the masterpiece goes down as you would expect it to with the beta kids getting stuck in the juju. the betas are later released from the juju by vriska but it doesn't actually kill english (dave does with his sword, then gets decapitated), and john gets nailed hard in the chest by caliborn's gold tooth, which begins to poison and kill him. davepeta appears for like two seconds and then vanishes into the black hole. jade's corpse is the only one of the kids that isn't fucking vaporized but it gets sucked into the black hole. we'll come back to this later. john runs into meenah, who steals the life ring and peaces out into the black hole. then he runs into terezi in the remains of paradox space and the two of them fuck. 

IN THE MEANTIME, on earth, karkat mounts an opposition run to jane's presidency, at dave's urging. dave and karkat are explicitly not together but also explicitly dancing around how they both know they love each other; jade keeps trying to start a threesome and both of them are like "UHHHHHH." roxy and calliope are together. jake and dirk have a stupid wrestle rap tv show but it is iterated on over and over again that dirk thinks jake is a useless idiot who he can't treat well and who deserves nothing and whom he needs to babysit and control so cool I guess. dirk goes to talk to rose and it becomes clear both of them are experiencing the same thing with their expansion of consciousness giving them awareness of other timelines and vague control over them (”ascending”) AT WHICH POINT it becomes clear that dirk is actually the narrator+controller of the entire meat timeline. the narration turns orange and dirk’s character voice (or what the epilogue says his character voice is) begins to leak into how it’s written.

BACK TO CANDY FOR A SECOND.

jade's corpse from the meat timeline crashes down into the candy earth c through a ghost black hole portal. nobody knows what the sweet christ is happening, but roxy proposes having another funeral since the kids only see one another at funerals (the last one being dirk’s) and aren't very close. they have the funeral but in the middle of it, jade sits up and has been possessed by the spirit of red calliope, who claims she is protecting this version of the planet and is keeping watch out for a bad actor who could destroy everything.

kid vriska is horrible to kid tavros. john and terezi talk a lot and it's routinely implied that john cares more about her than about roxy, and that john is the only person she talks to. jake eventually walks out on jane with their kid but only after she’s treated him horrendously and continued to cuck him with gamzee. meenah also comes down through a hole in the sky, where she meets karkat and they hook up romantically. dave and jade get married but it’s implied to be a very troubled marriage. kid vriska begins banging harry anderson once they are teens. also once they are teens, ACTUAL (alive) vriska comes crashing down onto the planet from being sucked into the black hole. she and kid vriska have some conversations about terezi, but only after vriska hatefucks gamzee. vriska sends terezi a message. we don't see how this pays off, which makes me think that more is probably coming. 

dave, while trying to help karkat with the troll rebellion, comes upon actual literal barack obama, has a conversation about sexuality with him and how he’s not really into jade (here he calls himself “gay” while in the meat timeline he is very explicit about being bisexual). obama tells him that ascension to one’s ultimate self is impossible for the normal human body to withstand and helps him turn into a robot so he can handle the transformatiin and help save another timeline. 

btw a war has started between jane’s fascist empire and the trolls, led by karkat, who has an eyepatch. john, having patched some things up a bit with roxy, reconciles with his son. this is basically how candy ends.

OK. LET’S GET BACK TO THE MEAT.

now that dirk's control over the narrative is firmly established he actually starts exerting some level of control over people through his narrative voice. he uses this to start making people do things he wants.

anyway jade falls into a coma at some point and when she wakes up, the spirit of red calliope is using her to "transmit" and dirk and red calliope start literally fighting over who gets to write the story. red calliope wins at first, and dirk's narration is reduced down to small font where he passive aggressively swipes at calliope. alive calliope takes one look at possessed jade and runs away almost literally screaming. oh also I forgot calliope and roxy both go by "they" at this point in time and dirk+calliope spar a bit over that as dirk also keeps calling roxy "her." fun times. 

anyway while calliope is running the narrative jake agrees to endorse karkat's presidential run as dirk makes plans involving a rifle and the phrase "jake english, your ass is mine." during the rally where jake is about to endorse karkat, dirk fools calliope into thinking he's trying to shoot jake, but wheels around and hits jade instead with a tranquilizer through a window. this makes red calliope's influence go away and dirk resumes control of the narrative. 

using his regained control of the narrative, dirk presses his thumb down on jake to remind jake how much he loves dirk, how he’s IN LOVE with dirk, and how "to love dirk is to obey him" and jake, obligingly, endorses jane in front of the entire crowd gathered there to watch his speech about karkat. 

dave and karkat, drinking together after jane handily wins the election, hook up though dave basically has to shout dirk out of his head because he wants to do it on his own terms instead of the way dirk keeps writing it, and dirk WILL NOT LET HIM because dirk knows best. eventually dirk leaves him alone but only after dave basically forcibly chases him out (without knowing what he’s really doing, sort of like Aimless Renegade in the comic). john and terezi come back to earth, where john dies and terezi captchalogues his body. dirk (as narrative) and terezi (as herself) spar a bit until he makes an offer to her to come see him about her dead boyfriend. this is the last we see of her. 

dirk then convinces kanaya (using the narrative) that he and rose are in love and he's better for rose than she is and she needs to let them go if she really loves rose. kanaya obligingly does this. dirk leaves kanaya some medicine that will wake jade up and goes to talk to jake, where he sex blackmails jake into lending him a spaceship. jake thinks he's coming along on the trip but dirk assures him this is not the case. jake breaks down literally sobbing and begging to go, dirk kisses him and tells him he'll never let jake break his heart again, and dirk leaves with rose (in a coma which dirk will resolve by putting her into a robot like dave).

jade wakes up and, with memories of red calliope's goals, shouts that dirk has to be stopped, pointing out to various people (namely kanaya) how weird they’ve been acting because he’s been subtly influencing them using the narrative as lowkey mind control. they all make plans to go find dirk though none of them can figure out where the sweet fuck john is (terezi is awol). they ask jake who, sobbing, confirms that dirk took a spaceship, and then go plan to get one of their own and follow him using red calliope's instructions.

also this is impossible to get in anywhere else but roxy is going by “he” now and dirk has a whole paragraph about how suave and manly and cool and masculine he is

WOW THAT WAS HAIRY. THAT IT?

the actual ending of each consists of the following: candyverse davebot shows up on candy earth as red calliope opens a hole presumably back out to the furthest ring (after literally eating caliborn’s body). he and aradia (she was in candy for a while now but did pretty much nothing) are like cool let's go and vault into the hole. meanwhile, meatverse dirk and robot rose draw closer to a new unnamed planet as rose does dirk's laundry. they both know the planet is destined for a new sburb session in the future.

YIKES!

yeah yikes.

WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS?

if you’re like me you should ignore it and just keep doing what you want to do. have fun. the author is dead, long live the fanfic author.

[allthethingswecoulddo]

The Guardian needs to pick a side, and so do the women that transphobes are trying to rally.

You can silently allow these purported ‘feminists’ to speak for you, as they vilify trans people, or stand with your trans siblings to do the real work of bringing down the patriarchy and all the gendered violence that comes with it.

Content warning: transphobia, sexual and domestic violence, TERFs, homophobia & biphobia, racism, far right & mention of Nazis

On 2nd March the Guardian published an article called ‘Women must have the right to organise. We will not be silenced’, by self-identifying Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist (TERF), Suzanne Moore. The article, however badly written and absurd, has a platform. And with a distinct lack of meaningful trans representation or awareness in the media at large, it’s likely that some people will be lured into believing that Moore has credible points to make. The Guardian has rubber stamped this hateful rhetoric and rallying cry for transphobia, and it’s not the first time.

So it’s time for the Guardian, as well as the cisgender, white middle class women amongst it’s readership, who are clearly being summoned to fight in an imaginary war, to pick a side. And those ‘sides’ are not trans rights vs. cisgender women’s rights. Because trans rights do not infringe cisgender women’s rights. You have to pick two sides of history: you can silently allow these purported ‘feminists’ to speak for you, as they vilify trans people and claim that misogyny and sexism is only experienced by those with the ‘ability to reproduce’ (which, by the way, doesn’t cover all cisgender women) or stand with your trans siblings to do the real work of bringing down the patriarchy and all the gendered violence that comes with it.

What follows is an attempt to unpick the slew of shit arguments that Moore strung together in her Guardian article for the purposes of exposing her thinly veiled hate speech, and equipping allies with the arguments to shut down transphobia in their day to day lives.

1. Moore uses the tactics of the far right, by suggesting that trans people and those fighting for trans rights are a threat to free speech.

Far right poster boys in the UK, like Tommy Robinson AKA Stephen Christopher Yaxley-Lennon (LOL), have been rallying supporters by claiming that free speech is under threat. He likes to weaponise this argument against Muslim communities and people of colour for the most part, but won’t say no to a touch of sexism, misogyny and transphobia. It’s become a familiar trope, the idea of a snowflake generation, so sensitive to harm that they won’t even expose themselves to a touch of hate speech.

TERFs are not above allying with the likes of the far right to stoke fear and anger in those who’ve felt the burn of sexism, misogyny, homophobia biphobia and who feel a bit baffled by University discourse around safe spaces and no platforming. They conveniently point the finger at trans people, mostly trans women, and say ‘they are the problem, you can’t say anything anymore, they are silencing us!’

In fact, in the States, TERFs have been proven to have organised links with far right Christian groups, and many of the UK groups who (according to Moore, are definitely not hate groups) are funded by the same organisations. So when Moore says ‘Now, I feel a huge sadness when I look at the fragmentation of the landscape, where endless fighting, cancellations and no platformings have obscured our understanding of who the real enemies are,’ I can’t stifle my maniacal laughter.

How brainwashed do you have to be to think that trans people and their allies are the enemy, when you will cooperate with far right racists? Sure, there might be a debate to be had about the effectiveness of tactics like no platforming, but when trans rights are conflated with the concept of free speech denial, the TERFs are knowingly playing into the hands of the far right.

2. She harks back to Section 28 protests as the good ol’ days, when LGBT people knew what to fight for and our collective oppression trumped our differences. The irony is lost on her.

In 2019 we saw a momentous win in the 30 year battle for LGBT inclusion in schools, with the introduction of inclusive relationships and sex education. That wouldn’t have been possible without solidarity across the LGBT movement.

But TERFs have taken this victory as an opportunity to make the exact same arguments about teaching on gender identity as were made by Section 28. The idea that any mention of LGBT people was ‘the promotion of homosexuality’ (a line taken directly from the clause) is echoed in their claims that children and young people are being brainwashed and tricked into being trans. They even organised to try and prevent funds reaching Mermaids, a charity for trans children and young people last year, by mobilising misinformed and hateful women on Mumsnet via the lightning rod of Graham Linehan - who, by the way, compares people fighting for trans rights to those active in Nazi Germany.

We know that almost half of young trans people have attempted suicide. And scumbags like Moore have the audacity to claim they are being silenced? All whilst being published in the likes of the Guardian.

3. TERFs want you to believe that they are voiceless and marginalized. But the fact is, they get a seat at the table, to make decisions about other people’s lives. How feminist of them.

TERFs want you to believe that they are at the vanguard of feminism, being punished for speaking out like the great feminists before us. But as we’ve established, they are supported by well-resourced dark forces, given public platforms, and unfortunately our government is bending to their will in the name of ‘balance.’

During a consultation on gender recognition in the UK last year, Government Equalities Office officials had meetings with activists from Transgender Trend, Fair Play for Women and A Woman’s Place UK. All these groups are transphobic hate groups; one has wished cancer on trans people on their public social media accounts, and that’s not the worst of it. Now the Guardian has shown its true colors, platforming the voices of established TERFS. Does that seem like silencing to you?

In the meantime, trans people get next to no meaningful representation, we see vitriolic trash in the media every day and transphobic hate crime has rocketed.

4. Concepts of sex and gender as binary are weaponised to invalidate trans people. And it harms cisgender women too.

Moore believes that the most radical insight of feminism is that gender is binary but you are allowed to play with femininity and masculinity. Wow, she has missed the point. You don’t have to be a feminist scholar to know that feminism has helped us understand, unpick and fight back against, a patriarchal system of oppression, of which ideas around femininity and masculinity are symptoms. If the goal of your feminism stops at the destruction of stereotypes, you’re probably pretty privileged - because whilst it’s no doubt, essential to women’s liberation, it will not end gendered violence and oppression. 

Gender and sex are both a spectrum - trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming people have always existed. This is not, as TERFs would have you believe, a recent fad or phase. The conflation of gender and sex, and the aggressive enforcement of the binary from the very moment of conception is a fundamental pillar of patriarchy. And you are punished, socially and politically if you are considered to deviate from these norms. Moore tokenistically mentions intersex people but fails to acknowledge that right now in the UK, intersex babies are having non-consensual operations at birth so that they will conform more neatly to binary concepts of sex.  

It’s in TERF’s interest to protect the binary because they want, more than anything, for cisgender women to believe their rights are threatened by trans people and that trans rights and cis women’s rights are incompatible. TERFs will have you believe that you should be more concerned with someone’s genitals than their humanity. They seem less concerned by internal sex organs, hormones and all the other facets that make up the narrow binaries of sex; but that would complicate their nice, neat excuse for transmisogyny.

5. TERF’s priority is not the prevention of rape or domestic abuse. It is the vilification of trans people, who are disproportionately affected by sexual and domestic violence.

TERFs seem to get endless inspiration from the oppressors of LGBT people; Moore’s article is littered with a transphobic trope, that paints trans people as predatory. It’s nothing new, that’s exactly what they said about lesbians, gay and bi people during the Section 28 era that Moore seems so nostalgic for. And if there’s one stand out reason you should visibly and proudly reject the rhetoric of TERFs and stand side by side with your trans siblings, it’s this: TERFs promote violence against trans people when they paint trans people as predatory. They are a hate group, they promote violence against trans people.

Tarana Burke, the founder of the #MeToo movement (pictured above) said ‘I founded the 'me too' movement in 2006 because I wanted to find a way to connect with the black and brown girls in the program I ran.’ Burke is still fighting to center the voices of marginalised survivors as the movement has blown up and focused on cis, white celebrities. In a 2017 article she said, ‘there’s no conversation in this whole thing [#MeToo] about transgender folks and sexual violence. There’s no conversation in this about people with disabilities and sexual violence. We need to talk about Native Americans, who have the highest rate of sexual violence in this country. So no, I can’t take my focus on marginalized people.’

It shouldn’t need spelling out, but we know that:

Two in five trans people (41 per cent) and three in ten non-binary people (31 per cent) have experienced a hate crime or incident because of their gender identity in the last 12 months. (Stonewall, LGBT in Britain -Trans Report)

The 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey found that 47% of transgender people are sexually assaulted at some point in their lifetime.

 More than a quarter of trans people (28 per cent) in a relationship in the last year have faced domestic abuse from a partner. (Stonewall, LGBT in Britain -Trans Report)

Seven per cent of trans people said they have been refused care because they are LGBT, while trying to access healthcare services in the last year. (Stonewall, LGBT in Britain -Trans Report)

Cisgender women must be visible and active trans allies and stand side by side with their trans siblings if we’re going to win. So that instead of wasting our energy having to defend ourselves and fight for the very fact of trans people’s existence, we can get on with protecting and winning rights.

So, cisgender women of Guardian readership and beyond, pick a side. These vile transphobes will exploit their exposure to feed hatred and violence against trans women the whole trans community. Your voice is important, and necessary, to reject their rhetoric, and build a feminist movement of meaningful solidarity. We have so much more to fight for.

[perfectlinnamonroll]

Seeing the Sights [Lin-Manuel & Reader]

Summary: You never thought helping a tourist out would make such an impact on your life.

Word count: 3214

Warnings: a swearword or two, mentions of dragon slaying

Author’s notes: This is a completely platonic piece. No romance. None at all. I wrote it because, as someone eloquently put it, “I just want to be friends with Lin, is that so much to ask?”. This is exactly how my meeting with Lin would go down in a perfect universe. Self-indulgent? You bet. At first I wanted to include a scene where reader tries to teach Lin a bit of their language, but it just didn’t want to fit anywhere. Maybe I’ll post it separately later, since it was pretty hysterical. Polish is a hard language to learn, guys. Also, the reader’s gender neutral! (Just a warning - I’m not a native English speaker, so this might be a little awkward in some places. If you notice any mistakes, please point them out to me!)

“Co podać?” (“How can I serve you?”)

“Miętowe z czekoladą, poproszę” (“Mint and chocolate, please”), you said to the vendor, already excited to taste the sweet treat. It was the nineteenth of May, and that was your first ice cream this year. You always had to be careful about eating frozen food, since you were prone to catching colds, but the air was perfectly warm. An ideal day to enjoy some minty goodness.

You’ve been lucky this semester: no classes on Fridays. At first, you’ve been planning to get some work done, but seeing the pleasant weather outside you decided to get some “you” time. It’s been a while since you’ve taken a break, and your skin was yearning for sunlight.

You strolled down Basztowa Street, observing both people rushing towards the shopping mall and crows hanging around the park on your left. You liked this place; it was right in the heart of Cracow, but it never felt truly crowded, probably thanks to the greenbelt surrounding the Old Town. It was a perfect spot to people watch; something about here made you feel less lonely. Well, at least less than usual.

It was hard, starting university in a whole new city. Even though you were familiar with Cracow before, thanks to many weekend trips, living on your own was still challenging. You found yourself missing your family a lot. Making friends never came easy to you, so most of your free time was spent exploring the city and expanding your Spotify library. Not exactly what you thought life would look like at this point, but it was nice enough. Usually.

You were about to head towards the main square and check out your favourite bookstore when you noticed a man standing nearby and looking around frantically. He was the only stationary person in the smooth flow of pedestrians. That, combined with the lost expression on his face, made him stand out like a sore thumb. Was he lost?

He must have felt you staring, as he caught your eye in a matter of seconds. To your surprise he started walking right towards you. You bristled reflexively; he was definitely older than you, more or less in his mid-thirties. There was no telling what he was about to do.

“Excuse me”, he said, looking at you like you were his last hope. “Do you speak English?”

Oh. Just a tourist, then, you thought, relaxing a bit. It explained why he looked so lost.

“Sure. Can I help you?”

His relief was almost palpable. “Yes, thank you! I’ve been looking for an ATM for like, half an hour already, all those streets look the same and no one I asked was able to guide me…”

His voice sounded vaguely familiar, but you were unable to put your finger on it.

“Oh, okay”, you replied, trying to think of the best way around. “You need to go down this lane,” you gestured to a nearby street, “then turn right, go straight ahead, turn left into the third street you pass, and then the ATM should be right around…”

You stopped, watching the guy. The lost look was back on his face, and you were sure he wouldn’t be able to follow your directions properly. There was no denying that the streets of Cracow could very well be a maze to someone who didn’t know their way around.

“You know what,” you said, “it’ll probably be faster if I just go with you.”

The man brightened at the suggestion.

“Would you? I mean, thank you, but I don’t want to take so much of your time…”

“It’s fine”, you waved your hand. “I don’t really have anything to do right now. Might as well help a guy out.”

You started walking, the guy matching your pace. The silence felt a bit awkward, so you decided to make some small talk on the way.

“So I gather that you’re not from around”, you started. “Just a short visit or are you planning to stay?”

“Nah, I’m only here for a week”, he replied. “A friend invited me. Never been to Eastern Europe before.”

“Do you like it so far?”

“Yes, a lot! It has this… quaint feeling?” He gestured to the tenements around you. “It feels like time travel, a bit. Those buildings are older than my country. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, are you from the US?”, you realised. That’s what his accent suggested, but you weren’t sure before. Most native English speakers sounded more or less the same to your ears, unless they spoke with a heavy drawl.

“Yeah! You ever been there?”

You laughed.

“No, and I don’t think I ever will. Applying for a visa is a pain in the ass.”

The smile on the guy’s face dimmed a little.

“Right, I forgot you guys still have to get visas. That’s a shame.”

You shrugged. “It’s alright. Not really a fan of the US, to be honest.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Well,”, you started, without thinking too much, “your gun laws are ridiculous, for once. You don’t have Kinder Surprise eggs, too, and no paid maternity leave. The country was more or less built on genocide and slavery. Most of your population are kids of immigrants, and yet there’s so much xenophobia and racism. And don’t even get me started on your last elections, that was ridiculous...”

You ended your rant abruptly, realising your mistake a second too late. You didn’t know anything about this guy and you just insulted his home country. In a big way. You knew your inability to shut up would one day put you in big trouble, and it seemed like the day has finally come.

A heartbeat later, however, the man begin to laugh. A wave of relief crashed through you. Thank God he wasn’t offended, or this situation might have become really unpleasant.

“Fair enough”, he said, a trace of laugher still noticeable in his voice. “I can’t say I don’t agree. But there are lots of cool things about America too, you know. Oh, and by the way,” he extended his hand to you, “I’m Lin.”

“Y/N”, you replied, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Your little chat was going so well, you didn’t even notice that you managed to arrive at the ATM in the meantime. A part of you was reluctant to leave Lin. You had fun talking to him; it made you feel much less lonely. Still, he was a stranger, and it probably wasn’t like someone more than a decade younger than him would be his ideal company on vacations, anyway.

You accompanied him as he did his withdrawal, making sure he didn’t struggle with operating the ATM. As far as you knew, most of them had the option to switch to English, but they could’ve been different from the US ones.

Things went smoothly, though. As Lin pocketed his cash, you fidgeted a bit.

“So, I guess you’re on your way to check out the rest of the city. Hope you have fun and don’t get lost again”, you said, turning around to leave.

“Wait”, he blurted out. Surprised, you stayed in your spot. “My friend works late tonight, so I’m on my own here, and… would you mind showing me around a bit?”

The request caught you off guard. He actually wanted to spend more time with you? Was this some kind of a trick? He seemed nice, sure, but who knew if he wasn’t actually a thief, or a kidnapper, or just some sort of a creep? Your doubts clashed with the good first impression, and you found yourself unable to find your words.

Lin, noticing your silence, started to fret. “I mean, you don’t know me, and you’re probably busy, it’s fine, I just-“

You took a deep breath. It’s not as if you were in some sort of deserted place, you figured. There were lots of people around; it was unlikely he would try any funny business. And it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, really.

“Sure”, you said, interrupting him. “I, um, have a day off anyway. Didn’t make any plans. So, yeah, if you want to…”

The look of surprise on his face was quickly replaced with a bright smile. “Thanks! So, where to now?”

  You showed Lin the Old Town, making sure to point out all the famous landmarks. You didn’t know all that much about the city’s history, but Lin didn’t seem to mind. Everything fascinated him – from the Veit Stoss altarpiece, to Wyspiański’s stained glass windows in St. Francis church, to the Wawel Castle. He seemed to enjoy Polish food, too, which you were adamant he tries at least once. In turn, he insisted on buying some grain to feed the pigeons on the main square, laughing as five of them sat on his shoulders.

It should’ve felt weird, hanging out with a much older guy that you barely knew, but you were really enjoying yourself. Making friends with Lin was easy, and you were glad for his company. It gave you an opportunity to hone your English, as well as see the familiar city with new eyes. And he was just fun  - asking interesting questions, constantly joking around, never missing a chance to do something silly and make you laugh.

You were in a souvenir shop, with Lin determined to at least consider buying every tacky thing he laid his eyes upon, when your phone suddenly ringed. “SILENCE! A MESSAGE FROM THE KING!” You reached into your pocket to read your message.

“Nice ringtone”, said Lin in a teasing tone. He was looking at mugs with traditional folk prints, but you could tell his focus suddenly shifted to you for some reason. He looked almost… nervous?

“Thanks”, you said. “It’s my mum’s text notification. Thought it’d be funny. You know Hamilton?”

“Yeah”, he replied somewhat absentmindedly, still eyeing the mugs.

“Well, figures, it’s much more of a thing in the US. Not many people here have heard about it”, you said, pocketing your phone and turning to browse through tote bags.

“So how come you know it?”

“Spotify thought I’d like it, and it was right”, you grinned. “It’s really good. Wish I could see it live.”

“But that’d require travelling to that hated US”, Lin joked.

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t have the cash.”

Lin finally settled on some postcards and a plushie of the Wawel Dragon and you returned to the main square to rest a bit and enjoy the afternoon. It was around six PM, and though there was quite a lot of people, the place didn’t feel crowded. You sat on a fairly secluded bench, watching the horse carriages come and go. The clopping of hooves on the cobblestone was one of your favourite sounds, lulling you into a peaceful state.

You glanced in Lin’s direction, your attention focusing on the green plushie in his bag. It occurred to you that you hadn’t visited the statue on Vistula’s bank. A shame, since it was funny to watch people’s reactions when it started to breathe fire.

“Do you even know the Wawel dragon’s story?”

“There’s a story?”, Lin asked in return, taking the toy out of the bag.

“Oh yeah. Everyone knows it. One of the Polish classics.”

“Well then, would you mind telling me?”

“Okay, so,” you began, “there’s this den under the castle hill, right? In the legendary times of king Krakus, a dragon lived there. It was a nuisance, mostly, setting things on fire, eating livestock, killing people… You know, general dragon-y things. So the king said that whoever killed it would get to marry his daughter. It was a pretty sweet deal, so many valiant knights tried to slay the beast. They all failed, though. By which I mean died.”

Lin giggled.

“Then, one day, instead of another knight, a shoemaker’s apprentice showed up and said he would kill the dragon. He stuffed a sheep skin with sulphur and left it outside the den. The dragon soon found and ate it, and because of the sulphur, it started to feel like it was burning inside. It figured that water should fix this problem, so it went to the Vistula river and started drinking. It drank so much, its belly kept swelling with all the water, and finally it exploded. The apprentice married the king’s daughter and became the next king, and they lived happily ever after.”

“That’s one cool story”, Lin grinned. “Now I’m even more glad I bought the plushie.”

“It’s short and simple, but it’s a good one. And the moral rings true.”

“What moral, exactly? Don’t eat sulphur?”

“Well,” you said, looking at the Sukiennice hall, “Hamilton has basically the same one, doesn’t it? Anyone can become someone, if they’re clever and use their head. A bit cliché, but still relevant.”

You glanced at Lin. He kept staring at the plushie dragon, looking thoughtful.

“Think that’s the message of Hamilton?”

“Well, it’s a complicated story with many possible morals to find, I guess. It’s also about finding your voice, supporting your family, the conflict between patience and drive, about legacy, and knowing when to push on and when to take a break… But the ‘zero to hero’ one seems the most important to me. Hamilton’s story proves that hard work pays off. It says so right in the first verses, right? How does a bastard, orphan… and so on… grow up to be a hero and a scholar? He got a lot farther by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter, by being a self-starter.”

You started rapping the verses at the end, earning a laugh from Lin. “Hey, that was mean. I know it was probably the whitest rap you’ve ever heard, but I’m trying.”

“No, it was pretty good.”

“I can hear the sarcasm in your voice. Think you can do it better?”

“And what if I can?” Lin’s smirk kept getting bigger.

“Oh, it’s a bet now? Well, I guess I could get you a coffee. But there’s no way you’d do better than my rendition of My Shot.”

“You’re on.”

You got off the bench. The hours you spent rapping along to My Shot were now finally gonna pay off. There was no way you were going to lose this.

You rapped the whole first part, stopping right before Lafayette’s verses. You were quite pleased with yourself: didn’t need to stop for breath, got all the lyrics right… There was free coffee in your near future, and you could almost taste it already.

Lin clapped enthusiastically, grinning at your performance.

“Okay”, you said, sitting down. “Now it’s your turn.”

Lin hesitated for a second. Then he hopped off the bench and stretched his arms, which earned him a laugh. Smirking, he cleared his throat and began rapping, starting at “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory”.

And your jaw dropped.

He finished after one chorus and looked at you smugly.

You still couldn’t quite believe what your ears were telling you. But there was no mistaking that voice. Now you knew why it sounded familiar from the start.

“So I believe you owe me coffee”, said Lin, still grinning like crazy.

You struggled to find your words.

“That was unfair”, you managed at last.

Lin shrugged. “Never said I was gonna play fair.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realise earlier.” Now that you knew, it seemed so obvious.

“Can’t believe you listened to it often enough to memorise the lyrics, but never once saw a picture of my face.”

“I was gonna check out a bootleg recording… after my exams.”

“Bootleg? Really?” Lin looked displeased.

“It’s not like I can fly over an ocean to watch it live”, you said defensively.

“Well,” Lin smiled at you. “Why not?”

You stared at him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though.”

”I still can’t afford the trip, even if you could get me tickets.”

“That’s really not a problem.”

“And why would you do that for me, anyway?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’m just a fan you met at some exotic European country on vacations. And quite a shitty one at that, because I didn’t even recognise you. You’re saying that you’re willing to pay for my plane, a hotel room, my ticket, and then fly me back?”

You couldn’t interpret the look on Lin’s face. Was it… disbelief? Disappointment?

“You’re not just a fan”, he said with a serious voice. “You’re Y/N who helped me find an ATM in this maze. Who agreed to spend their day off with a stranger giving him a tour of their city, free of charge – free of any ulterior motives, in fact. Who showed me all the best places around, fed me great food, told me a local fairytale. Without you, I’d probably waste most of that time on getting lost, and never find half of those amazing things you showed me. So, yeah, I’m willing to fly you to the US. Mostly so I can prove you wrong about that country and make you enjoy your stay as much as I enjoyed today. But also because I’d just like to see you again. I had fun.”

“So… you had fun with a fan?”

Lin groaned. “And they say that rhyming “son” with “sun” was bad.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, you grinned. “It’s just… it all seems kinda unreal, you know?”, you gestured in his general direction. “I was just casually enjoying an ice cream this morning, and now Lin-Manuel Miranda is inviting me to the US at his expense. What’s next? Mark Hamill showing up and asking me to be an extra in the new Star Wars?”

Lin laughed.

“Well, if you’d like to, that could be arranged…”

“No”, you interrupted him. “God, no. That’s enough of surreal stuff for one day, thank you very much. Can we… go back to when you were just a nice foreign guy I randomly met? Without all that being famous, my-shows-were-on-Broadway, I-sell-out-theatres stuff?”

Lin’s smile dimmed a little.

“There’s no escaping my celebrity status, eh? Even here, half a globe away.”

You stopped, looking at him. He was right. Even on vacations on a different continent, he had no break from being the Lin-Manuel Miranda.

“I’m sorry”, you said, biting your lip.

Lin shrugged. “Well, it was to be expected. Felt nice, though, being able to be just… Lin. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to walk around a city and be completely anonymous.”

You fell silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry”, you repeated. “It’s not like you changed in any way in the last twenty minutes. It’s just hard not to look at you differently when I found out you’re the guy I’m listening to on repeat every day. I’ve never met anyone even remotely famous before.”

“It’s fine. If I shut up before and didn’t bring up Hamilton, you probably would never recognise me”, he laughed a little.

“Fair enough. So,” you held out your hand to him. “I suggest we just go back to being Y/N and Lin, unlikely friends bonded by an ATM hunt. What do you think?”

Lin shook your hand with a wide smile.

“Fine by me.”

[misswsposts]

You are always more important...

You Are Always More Important

“What concept, what belief, what rule can make people see what they don’t want to see? As long as other people’s pain is less important than your own issues.” - Meltem Arikan, Enough is Enough.

I am a performer currently working on a theatre production, a piece of “artivism” called Enough Is Enough. It is a feminist piece shouting out about patriarchy and violence against women and children. It’s a powerful, thought-provoking piece with important points and a strong statement and it’s a remarkably rewarding experience to be a part of it. 

I am also an ethical vegan and can’t help but notice parallels between the abuse of women and children with animal abuse. I don’t need to tell you about how the meat and dairy industries breed animals solely for our consumption, genetically modify them to have unnatural, painful defects which make them tastier and commercially viable, enslave them in pens, cages and sheds, violate their sexual organs on “rape racks” (it’s an industry term), steal their babies, murder them, chop them up, rip feathers from their living bodies, peel off their skin while they’re conscious. I don’t need to go into details because WE ALL KNOW what goes on. Everybody who eats a kebab or drinks a glass of milk knows how it got from the animal to their stomach. Why then, when we are all aware of it, do we continue to allow it? Because you are always more important, that’s why. Society has brainwashed the vast majority into believing its acceptable behaviour. People truly believe that because they enjoy the taste of bacon or cheese, it is worth sacrificing the comfort and entire life of another being. It’s worth someone losing his or her ENTIRE life, the only thing they possess, for a brief minute on your lips and a few hours of tummy fulfilment. We turn a blind eye to the abuse because it’s so inherent and normalised in our society. Smiling cartoon chickens and cows laugh at us from TV screens and billboards. “EAT ME” they dare us. But we all know, it’s not the animals themselves challenging us to savour their flesh, it’s their masters, humans. There’s another parallel here. When we see a woman in her underwear advertising a product on television or on a billboard, she has been placed there by a man, daring the audience to consume her with their eyes. Feminists call them up on the exploitation, the male gaze is criticised, all the while, the hypocrites are tucking into sushi made from a fish who has been traumatised, murdered and stolen from its environment through no fault of its own. 

But why is it OK to treat animals as subservient creatures we can dominate? Surely women can identify with them? The feeling of helplessness, being controlled, having no voice in a world created for them by others who are not like them. We justify it by saying animals are less intelligent than us, they lack reasoning and understanding. But how much intellect does one need to feel pain? It’s a basic feeling shared by all animals and some plants. Anybody who’s stepped on a dog’s foot will be familiar with the bloodcurdling yelp that follows. We’ve all seen a cat head for the warmest, most comfortable area of the living room. But cats and dogs have a special kind of relationship with humans. They are members of our family. We curse those who mistreat pets, yet all the while, we are shovelling a once living, breathing pig between our teeth. If we are using intelligence as a gauge, it’s misguided. Pigs have been proved to be more intelligent than dogs, and as intelligent as a three-year old human. The argument for intelligence doesn’t stand up, otherwise we’d be enjoying roast toddler of a Sunday. 

The real reason is speciesism. Another “ism” alongside racism, sexism, ageism, and all the other words which describe discrimination. It’s the last taboo but is just as relevant. Numbers-wise it effects more beings in our shared world than any of the other “isms”. In the early days of feminism and the civil rights movement, people mocked activists fighting for change. People were blinded by the system and comfortable with how things were. They couldn’t see the point of fighting for change, at least those people who weren’t suffering couldn’t. But the difference is that the victims had voices and the ability to fight against their oppressors. Their movements gathered momentum from those who were once complacent and they continue fighting to this day. But animals don’t have voices, or at least not ones able to communicate with humans. Their screams, yelps and cries are never in adverts. They are silenced, yet they exist. Animals are unable to unite and stand together, form unions, create Facebook groups. They’re the most vulnerable inhabitants on our planet. It’s for this reason I and others are speaking out for them, and yes, our cause is gathering momentum.

Animals breathe, feel pain, seek warmth, shit, have sex, shiver, feel fear, run away from or fight threatening behaviour, sigh, yawn, eat, drink and fuck, just as we do. How are they really different from us on a basic level? Why do we not give them the same respect we give other humans? Because they look, and think differently? Women look and feel differently to men, children look and think differently to adults. We wouldn’t tolerate that as a reason to abuse women and children so why do we tolerate it for animals? I can’t see the logic behind the justification of animal abuse.  

I’m surrounded by animal exploitation and have realised that like the women featured in the play, I too am part of the system. I hear jokes about meat and veganism, and rather than shout out about it, for the most part I stay silent. Compliant. Because I don't want to appear difficult or have my outgoing, fun reputation tarnished. I am more important. I now see I’m no better than the mothers who let their husbands abuse their children for an easy life. I’m no better than women who brush off the banter which oppresses them. Why? Because veganism is still a taboo. If a bandmate had brought back a 12 year old girl to our digs to sleep with, the rest of us would speak out, yet I watch people drink the juice from a raped female cow who has had her most precious child stolen from her and I stay silent. Dairy cows are voiceless females and I am a feminist who is not standing up for them. I am not taking part in the abuse personally but I am doing little to stop it. I remember the works of Edmund Burke, ”The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." I am angry with myself, but feel helpless at the same time. 

Animal rights activists are painted as weirdos or extremists. But what is extreme about eating a plant-based diet and feeling compassion for and empathy with the oppressed? How is it more extreme to choose to eat an avocado for breakfast than somebody’s legs? I’m not even getting started on the environmental impact of meat and dairy. I choose a cruelty-free diet because the choice is there. Even in the smallest towns and villages I’ve found plant-based foods. I have the privilege of choice, unlike animals. They don’t choose to be born into an unjust society. When people “choose” to eat meat, they do not like to think their choices have a victim behind them, but they do. Choices should not have victims. 

Peers often pity me for not eating the tasty cake or rack of ribs they are enjoying, but believe me, I do not feel hard done by. I only have to think of the poor creatures who’ve suffered to end up in your hands and any feelings for myself go out the window. How can I feel bad about missing out on tasting chicken soup when those chickens missed out on happiness, comfort and life itself?

 Discrimination of all forms should be fought and challenged, whether it's the rights of women, children, religious groups or animals. The first step is getting people to see their actions are harming others and have an effect. People need to open their eyes to new ideas, be open to criticism and more flexible in their way of thinking, but it's difficult when society has been hard-wired to be a certain way and when those in power don't share the same ideals. I truly believe there will be a point in the future when people will look back on our society's treatment of animals and view us the way as we view slave drivers during the years of the Transatlantic Slave Trade or the Nazis during the Holocaust, but in the meantime and to reach that stage, we must be non-compliant, continue to shout out and share the real life stories of all victims to incite positive change from the bottom up.

[gethealthy18-blog]

Actions We Are Taking to Support Black Lives Matter

New Post has been published on https://healingawerness.com/news/actions-we-are-taking-to-support-black-lives-matter/

Actions We Are Taking to Support Black Lives Matter

I have to start by saying that I feel uncomfortable. I feel uncomfortable that I will say the wrong thing. I feel uncomfortable that I haven’t said something already. I feel uncomfortable…nay outraged… that a Black Man was murdered by a Minneapolis Police Officer (with the silent compliancy of several others) in cold blood. I feel uncomfortable that despite this not being the first case of police brutality in this country that it took me this long to say something. I feel uncomfortable that despite not engaging in racist activities I have benefitted from a system based on a foundation of racial inequality at the expense of Black lives. I feel uncomfortable. I feel sad. I feel angry. And I recognize that my emotions pale in comparison to those of Black Americans who face injustice every single day. I may be uncomfortable but I will show up in spite of this discomfort because it’s a privilege to feel uncomfortable. This is not about me or my discomfort.

Image by @blessthemessy

If you’re a white person, you may have heard the phrase “do the work”. If you were like me you don’t fully understand what that means or where to start… until you actually step in and do the work. Then it starts to make sense. Doing your own work means diving into some tough questions and reflections. It means uncovering that you may be compliant with racism without overtly engaging in it. It means listening to Black voices and reflecting and understanding. It means accepting criticism when you mess up. Because you will.

Tanya and I wanted to share with you some resources we’ve found helpful as White women in learning about the racial injustices in our country, including the work we are doing right now and in the long term. Black Lives Matter is not a passing fad or a trending hashtag. It’s also not new. It is something we must all commit to right now and until we live in a country that allows for equal access for Black Americans.

This list is not exhaustive. We will update as we continue our work but know that there are SO many resources out there. It’s up to you to seek them out and learn. One step at a time.

We are continually challenging ourselves and evolving but as of now we have couple main focuses:

1. Doing our own personal work. We are looking into our white privilege, white fragility, white supremacy, what it means to be white and how our simply being white has played into years of oppression. WE are in charge of our own education in this issue. It’s not about turning to your Black friend and asking them to educate you.

Books & articles we’re currently reading:

2. Listening. This is so so important. WHILE doing our own work, we’re also listening to Black voices. What are they saying, how are they feeling? Don’t respond, just listen. Thoughts and feelings may stir up inside of you but we challenge you to sit with those, acknowledge them and reflect on what those feelings are.

Who we’re listening to right now:

Rachel Cargle – public academic, writer, and lecturer. Her activism and academic work are rooted in providing intellectual discourse, tools, and resources that explore the intersection of race and womanhood. Start by watching this video. Take her course here.

Layla F Saad – an author, speaker & teacher on the topics of race, identity, leadership, personal transformation & social change. Listen to her podcast, Good Ancestor.

The Conscious Kid – an education, research and policy organization dedicated to reducing bias and promoting positive identity development in youth. Follow them on Instagram.

1619 Podcast – An audio series on how slavery has transformed America, connecting past and present through the oldest form of storytelling from the New York Times.

3. Donating. We’re putting our money where our mouths are and donating to organizations doing really important work right now. Here are the ones we’ve currently donated to:

Black Visions Collective – Committed to creating safe + autonomous home for black communities in Minnesota.

Lake Street Council – Donating 100% of funds to small businesses and nonprofits in the Lake Street Community to help them rebuild their storefronts + neighborhood.

The Loveland Foundation – providing mental health services to black women and girls

Minnesota Freedom Fund – Pays bail and immigration bonds for protestors + those who cannot afford to in order to end discriminatory, coercive, and oppressive jailing.

Minnesota ACLU – promotes, protects, and extends the civil liberties and civil rights of people in Minnesota through litigation, lobbying, and community engagement.

Northside Funders – Works with local Community Based Organizations in North Minneapolis to help distribute funds and resources to those who need it most.

4. Protesting. We’re attending local protests. A reminder, you are there as a guest and to help protect Black people and amplify their voices. You’re a foot soldier in their war.

Suggestions for finding a local protest: Google it! Check Next Door for smaller, local ones.

Here are some tips for how to protest safely

Reminder: wear a mask and keep 6 feet distance. We’re still in a pandemic.

5. Evaluating. We’re looking at our content calendar and the work we’re creating and evaluating if the message is inclusive. I’ve discussed this before, but the wellness industry is inherently racist and privileged. We’ll be checking ourselves before creating and sharing our work but also looking at the industry as a whole and what we can do to change it.

What YOU Can Do Today

Like we said earlier, it can feel overwhelming to jump in. Where do you start? How do you start? From our experience, you have to just start. This will be a lifelong journey and we’re inviting you to start today. Here’s what you can do today:

Set aside time to go through these questions. Make sure you have time to really think and reflect. Maybe you answer a couple each day this week or maybe you sit down and power through all of them. Before you tackle anything you must unravel your own privilege.

After going through those questions on your own, invite someone into the conversation. Talk to a White partner, a family member, a friend. Invite someone in to reflect on these questions for themselves and with you. Start having these conversations! Please don’t go to your Black friend and express all that you’ve learned. They’re dealing with enough right now. Your emotions are valid and deserve to be acknowledge but please seek out support from a trusted friend or family member or speak to a mental health professional (we encourage it!)

What YOU Can Do For the Long Haul

This work is not done in a week, let alone a month. This is just the start of the conversation. Start by answering those questions and then dive into more work. Remember this is your job. It is not Black people’s job to educate you and share how much hurt they’ve experienced over the years. It’s your job to understand how you have caused this hurt.

Read, Listen and Watch

Here is a great LIST OF RESOURCES for white people looking to take action. Know that this is just a starting point. There are so many ways to dig deep and learn. Once you start, you won’t be able to stop. It includes books to read, podcasts to listen to, shows and movies to watch + organizations to follow on social media.

Consider where you’re spending your time and money:

Where do you live, shop, socialize?

Are you interacting and taking information in from people that look differently from yourself?

Are you supporting Black-owned businesses? Discover some today.

Are you donating to grassroots organizations supporting Black causes? Your success has been built on the shoulder’s of Black Americans. It’s time to give back.

Are you employing, sharing and amplifying Black People + Voices?

As an employer, are all your employees white?

As a business owner, content creator and/or influencer are you only sharing white stories and perspectives?

On social media are you sharing Black stories, artwork and written works?

Donate

VOTE

You vote with your actions and your dollars but show up in November and VOTE.

Make sure you are registered to vote here. Select vote by mail if you’re worried about voting during the pandemic.

I acknowledge that I have a long way to go in unravelling my own white privilege but I hope this can be a start. Please know that I am open to hearing from you and receiving your feedback and criticism. Expect to hear more from us soon but in the meantime all content will be paused here for the next several days to help redirect attention to Black voices and stories.

To my Black readers – I see you and I am so sorry for your pain. I stand with you today and every day moving forward. Your lives matter.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheHealthyMaven/~3/hrg0sHLmgQI/

[junker-town]

The Bachelorette Episode 5 recap: What was absolute garbage last night, and where were the bright spots?

Lee’s racism is still a main storyline, and it’s still super gross.

Hey gang, welcome back to hell, aka the recent episodes of The Bachelorette. This week, we’re going to do things a little bit differently, because I’m fed up that the producers are still making one guy’s flaming racism a main storyline.

In case you missed it, we left off primed for a two-on-one date between Lee and Kenny, from which only one man can return. Oh, and as though that weren’t bad enough in and of itself, they’re dragging this out for two nights. There’s an episode tomorrow, too, which is, for a Bachelorette beat writer, like having two back-to-back exams in college and but without Cheetos from the library’s vending machines to get you through.

Last week I wrote about how this show stopped being fun. I debated not writing about it at all anymore, to be honest, because a) last week made me want to stop watching, b) I have only so much to say about how slimy it is, and c) I said it all here. I have a feeling that until Lee and his Richard Spencer haircut get sent home, I’ll just keep writing some version of that over and over, with varying degrees of disgust.

However, I’m hoping that once this Lee B.S. is done, the show will get back to being what it’s supposed to be: a dumb (as opposed to sinister), Monday night diversion. In the meantime, I’m going to write about this program by scoring it like a sports game. I’ll be awarding an arbitrary number of points to Team Garbage and Team Bright Spots, so that at the end of this we can see whether there was anything worth watching at all.

BACK IN GOOD OL’ SOUTH CAROLINA BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE WE ARE FOR SOME REASON

Ugh, Kenny and Lee are talking on the porch. Kenny’s trying to stay calm. Lee says, “I respect how f[bleeping] calm you are, because you couldn’t do that the other night.” Lee is egging Kenny on, asking if he wants to get violent, twisting his words, gas-lighting him. I hate this. Lee calls Kenny a stack of bleeding muscle.

+1,800 for Team Garbage.

But then Kenny says this about Lee when Lee eventually backs down: “See what a b**** does when a b**** is confronted?”

+1,800 for Team Bright Spot.

BRYAN IS A TOOL

Bryan and Rachel are making out in a sailboat tied to a dock. It’s reminds me of kids making out in parked cars behind the high school gym, but instead of a car it’s a boat, and instead of high school it’s a reality show, and instead of kids it’s two humans over 30.

Bryan’s smarmy, smooth voice sounds like that of a late night DJ on a soft rock station. He says to Rachel, “So if you think I’m too good to be true for you, and I think you’re too good to be true for me, then there’s a very simple solution: I just think we’re a perfect match.”

Someone call Shakespeare and tell him there’s a new all-time great wordsmith coming for his throne!!!

This is not a point for Team Bright Spot, but it’s not a point for Team Garbage either. It’s more a point for Team Goober, so let’s go ahead and add that to the mix.

+900 for Team Goober.

Bryan's priorities are in order. #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/cla5qLM32i

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 27, 2017

OH NO, OH JACK STONE, OH POOR JACK STONE

The last one-on-one date in South Carolina goes to Jack Stone, the lawyer who, for some reason, is the first person in the history of The Bachelorette to get a last name rather than just an initial.

I thought Bryan was a tool. But Jack Stone is giving him a run for his money from the get-go, when he says, from the perch of the horse-drawn carriage, “I like to joke, and if someone can’t take a joke, and joke back, it’s boring.”

Jack Stone, buddy, pal, my friend: if you have to say it, it probably isn’t true. This schmuck has definitely texted one of his friends before and been like, “Why do nice guys always finish last?”

Rachel and Jack Stone go to this bar called Shuckin’ and Shaggin’, where they eat oysters and do a dance called shagging. Which is not, as Austin Powers would lead you to believe, another word for having sex. Rachel doesn’t seem to be having much fun. Jack Stone gets pretty creepy on the boardwalk afterwards.

Jack and Rachel laying down the law on the dance floor! Well, Rachel anyway. #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/r9RJbRP0QM

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 27, 2017

“So it was really hard to focus in there,” Jack Stone says. “Did you not notice? I kept staring at you? You looked amazing. You looked so pretty in there.”

Then he tries to kiss Rachel and Rachel is like “Eh, I’m sick, you don’t want to kiss me,” and he’s like no I do, and she’s like, no you don’t, and then he kind of pecks her on the lips and I AM DYING. I couldn’t be experiencing more second-hand embarrassment if I were actually the second hand on Jack Stone’s body.

OH MY GOD THE MOST AWKWARD EVENING DATE IN THE HISTORY OF THE BACHELORETTE HAPPENS

Note: If you’ve ever been on an incredibly uncomfortable date and don’t want to relive it, skip this, because I guarantee it will bring those memories flooding back. After watching and writing this I can’t stop thinking about this one date I went on where the conversation was the romantic equivalent of pulling teeth, so I lied and said that my roommate called to tell me my dishwasher broke. And I said I had to leave to “fix my dishwasher.” I might be a jerk.

Jack Stone tells the camera he’s falling in love with Rachel, which is strange because I think they’ve had maybe one (1) conversation before today. She looks as though she’d like to fall into the void she’s wishing would open up underneath the table.

Rachel says all the right things though, about how he’s great on paper, and how she’s hoping there’s some chemistry there. I find it hard to believe she thinks there could be after she looked physically repulsed when he tried to kiss her that afternoon, but I guess she’s all in on Bachelorette-speak.

It becomes very clear very quickly that there is no chemistry to be found when Jack Stone starts getting super weird. This, I have to say, is quality television. I’m laughing pretty hard as Jack Stone says, “I love parents,” and, “is your dad funny? I feel like I get him.” Rachel’s like “you don’t know my dad?” And Jack Stone’s like:

When it's just not there. #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/M78lb36ibz

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 27, 2017

AND THEN JACK STONE SAYS HE’D LIKE TO TAKE RACHEL TO DALLAS, LOCK THE DOOR, AND JUST LAY IN BED AND HANG OUT

Which is what serial killers say before they murder you. I’m pretty sure Jack Stone is blacked out; I think that’s what’s going on. I don’t know how many drinks he had at Shuckin’ and Shaggin’, but he can barely string sentences together, and has trouble processing it when Rachel sends him home from the date for being the Mayor of Sketchyville.

I don’t know how to score this. I think we might be back to Team Goober. And I think it’s, like, +90,000.

LEE TALKS MORE TRASH, WILL EXPLAINS RACISM TO HIM, LEE DOESN’T LISTEN

Lee is trying to get Will to be on his side about the whole Kenny thing. And Will is like, “When you call someone aggressive, there is a long-standing tradition in this country of regarding black men in america as aggressive to justify a lot of other things.”

Lee goes on a rant about how he doesn’t respect it when people play the race card, and I want to put my foot through the television.

+320,984 points for Team Garbage.

ROSE CEREMONY

We know Lee won’t go home because they’ve been teasing the two-on-one date with him and Kenny forever. My question is: Are the producers making Rachel keep him around? Is she okay with this? She cant LIKE him. Ugh.

+10,000 points for Team Garbage.

+900 points for Team Bright Spot, because Iggy finally got sent home.

BRYAN’S ONE-ON-ONE DATE IN NORWAY BECAUSE SOMEONE AT ABC HAS CONNECTIONS TO THE NORTH POLE

I don’t know why, but for the past two seasons we keep going to the arctic. Nick took his ladies to Finland, and now Rachel’s taking her gents to Norway. Nothing against either of these countries: They both seem great. But whatever happened to romantic beach escapes? One of the producer’s dads must owe Santa Claus a ton of money and this is how they’re working through the debt.

Anyway, Rachel and Bryan go on the first one-on-one date in Norway, which is funny, because she hated Jack Stone and loves Bryan and they look exactly the same. Actually, they both look just like Joel Osteen, as Clinton Yates of The Undefeated pointed out. And then Jeff Weiner of the Orlando Sentinal made this:

I don't know what this is (network sitcom? cult brochure?) but creating it was a welcome distraction from what's happening on this show rn. http://pic.twitter.com/zGDpzTQicA

— Jeff Weiner (@JeffWeinerOS) June 27, 2017

Anyway, Rachel and Bryan-Jack-Joel go to this huge-ass ski jump left over from the Olympics (I think, I dont know, kind of made that up) and repel down it. Rachel is scared.

“I think I'm more afraid to let go physically rather than emotionally, but today I’m afraid to let go physically,” says Rachel, and it’s the most impressive Bachelorette platitude I’ve ever heard.

They make out in mid-air; Bryan makes these soft humming sounds while they kiss and I feel physically ill.

RACHEL IS INTO BRYAN, PHYSICALLY

Rachel and Bryan have a ton of chemistry, I’ll admit, so I think she just wants to seriously smooch (wink, wink) him. She wonders why Bryan is 37 and still single if he’s so great, and I’m like, hey, listen, let’s not assume people aren’t dateable just because they’re not already spoken for. I say this out loud to the pint of Ben & Jerry’s in my lap and the house plant near the television that I have named Steven.

Your friendly neighborhood Bachelorette, Rappelling Rachel! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/ZXWAMOyXxr

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 27, 2017

Rachel is being honest about not being able to believe it when good things happen to her when it comes to relationships. She says she doesn’t believe men when they say nice things, and that she has trouble taking compliments, because she’s guarded and skeptical. I relate to this, and would imagine many other women probably can too, so this is a big win for Team Bright Spot.

But then Bryan’s like yeah I used to be skinny and had acne and no one liked me but then I got super hot when I was a senior in high school LOL. Who among us, Bryan with a Y?

Anyway I guess they had a nice date, Bryan’s fine, whatever, who cares. I don't know why he creeps me out so much. He just does. He tells Rachel he loves her.

Let’s give Team Bright Spot +20,000 for this date because the bar is so low.

HANDBALL DATE AND ALSO OH YEAH PETER IS GOING TO WIN THE SHOW

“He was like Jordan in the ’97 Finals.” –Rachel on Will #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/3y76Moiplb

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 27, 2017

So the guys go play handball. Alex the Russian dude calls the Norweigians vikings, and the Norweigian handball coach says, “Handball is life.”

Peter is so clearly going to win this whole thing — he and Rachel make out (she straddles him!) in a hot tub at the night portion of the date. They walk back into the main room three and a half hours later the way two college kids who had sex all night walk into the dining hall in the morning and have to face all their friends.

But Rachel gives Will the Immunity Rose because if she gave Peter the Immunity Rose everyone would be like yeah, I’ll pack my bags and leave because there’s no way I can catch up to how much Rachel likes Peter.

There is, however, this really funny moment when Josiah tells Rachel, “You are the woman for me. The woman of my dreams. I just want to grow old with you and I really, really mean that, Rachel.”

Rachel is like hey, the thing is, you don’t ask me questions about myself.

Josiah says, “Right. You’re so perceptive.”

He leaves the conversation being like, “Nailed it!” and she literally tells the camera: “Do I question it? Of course. He sounds disingenuous. He likes the idea of me than rather than really getting to know who Rachel is.”

I love how this probably happens all the time with dudes. Where a woman leaves a date being like, eh, he seems up his own ass and self-involved, and he’s on his group text with his friends being like “she loves me, bro, I killed it, we’re totally going to bone.”

#TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/6eEiPIA3RC

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 27, 2017

Team Bright Spot gets points because Rachel dunked on Josiah behind his back. +1,825

LEE AND KENNY’S AWFUL, MANIPULATIVE 2-ON-1 DATE

This is where stuff gets bad again. I’m still so appalled by how long this storyline has gone on.

I have a hard time believing Rachel doesn’t see exactly what’s happening. It’s not about her relationships with them at this point, these guys have become a side show. Yes, that’s what the two-on-one date always becomes — no one who goes on it ever makes it very far after. But this is the grossest yet.

The whole back-and-forth on the date is fairly extensive, but, in short: Kenny tells Rachel he isn’t aggressive the way Lee says he is, and then Lee lies and says that Kenny tried to pull him out of a van one time. Rachel says she believes Kenny.

This reminds me a lot of WWE. Kenny’s a wrestler. He’s the face. Lee is so one-dimensionally evil that I don’t know whether this is scripted; he’s the quintessential heel. The producers have set it up so the two of them just sit there talking trash to each other for a while, and Rachel isn’t there. I don’t know where else she could be if not told specifically to hang back, considering they just flew into the middle of nowhere on a helicopter.

Perhaps it’s real. But either way, we’re all being manipulated racism for ratinga, and it’s and ugly and I wish they hadn’t gone this shameful route. No amount of knowing or not knowing absolves this plotline of it’s terribleness.

Tomorrow won’t be any better — Kenny bleeds from the eye and weeps, and Rachel cries a lot. I am dreading this with every fiber of my being.

But hey, nothing like a bunch of active racism to promo the next episode! This has moved to extremely shameful levels

— Clinton Yates (@clintonyates) June 27, 2017

Team Garbage points: +2,890,267

TOTALS

Team Garbage: 3,223,051

Team Bright Spots: 24,525

Team Goober: 181,800

Welp, Garbage won tonight by a landslide and I can’t imagine tomorrow will be any better! Classic 2017 for ya.

[tyleroakley-obsessed]

Ed. Note: Want to dig deeper with an up-and-coming Memphis artist? Today, contributor Wesley Paraham does just that with Danielle Sklar, aka Magnolia. I’m now obsessed with her entrancing music and can’t stop listening. Also, the video is gorgeous in its simplicity. Definitely give her a listen, then read Wesley’s take on her music and a quick look at the electronic music scene in Memphis.  Meet Magnolia Magnolia is 24-year-old Danielle Sklar, and she is not here for your labels. Her music has already found loyal fans locally due to its slick production and exploration of race, womanhood, and society’s stereotypes. Her debut album perspicacity over paradox, which she released in December, is exactly the kind of music I look for to write about, so I was pretty hype when a link to her SoundCloud landed in my inbox. It’s an album that foregoes metaphor, innuendo, and otherwise flowery language in favor of a direct, digestible message: I am a person, no matter how hard you try to say otherwise. Recently, I was able to talk to her about her music, her life, and the the current electronic music scene in Memphis. The album was recorded in a home studio and produced by Daniel Horton, who used elements from trap, ambient, and trip-hop to create tracks that grow and blossom, with soft synths climaxing into playful samples and dance beats. Sklar has an Erykah Badu-like coolness to her voice, which turns the instrumentals into an abstract neo-soul experiment that would sit well in a playlist between Solange Knowles and Sampha. “You just close your eyes and feel it,” Sklar said. “It takes you so many places.” I caught one of her shows in the small room at the Hi-Tone on April 1st, and it was nearly packed out. It was a refreshingly intimate performance. Her music is wavy enough to get people moving, and sultry enough to get people moving together. She closed the set with “watch out”, which is actually my favorite track on the album. It felt like the fan favorite, too,  seeing as the crowd went nuts everytime the beat dropped. There was a particularly energetic group at the front of the crowd that knew every word, which can be a bit overwhelming for a local musician less than four months out the gate, especially considering how unprocessed and personal Sklar’s lyrics are. I asked her about it after the show, and she was shocked. “I had no idea who they were,”she said. Sklar with Horton, performing at the Hi-Tone for Bleeding Love: The Flow Must Go On, a charity event sponsored by Homeless Organizing for Power and Equality. On “watch out”, Sklar recognizes the trappings of labels and how useless they are. But, “It’s not a political album,” Sklar said. “It should be something everyone understands.” When you’re an artist of color, anything that you make that brings awareness to race is immediately labeled as political, but Sklar aims to shed that label as well. Because for her, and many other artists like her, race isn’t political — race is everyday life. “These are my observations. It’s my experience,” she added. “I want to be seen as a human being, instead of a being stripped down.” It’s here that the album’s title, perspicacity over paradox, reveals its strength: Sklar’s experience with racism affords her insight into why achieving a “post-racial society” by ignoring race is, well, a paradox. Listening to her music, I really appreciated how her songs speak so bluntly about these issues. “There’s no love in this place / if you can’t accept my race,” Sklar sings on “um, no thanks” over lullabye synth washes, as if these concepts are simple enough to rock a baby to sleep. Which, you know, they are. perspicacity over paradox was released on Rare Nnudes (not a typo!), a music label founded in 2013 by Memphians Michael Wheeler, Charles Gray, and Clifton Anthony — all of whom are also artists on the label. In the five years since its creation, it’s become home to electronic music artists locally and nationally and 104 releases. Memphis’ Electronic Music Scene Rare Nnudes is positioning itself to be the next chapter of Memphis’s cavernous and criminally under-recognized electronic music scene, which cropped up in the late 80s with industrial and club music. It changed hands from the underground to DJs like Lorin Vincent in the club scene and Dave Silver at warehouse raves in the 90s. Then, Congress passed the Reducing Americans’ Vulnerability to Ecstasy (RAVE) Act in 2003, a bill which essentially made it illegal for the owners of warehouses to knowingly rent them to ravers. In other words, the entire country was turning up so hard that the United States government was like, “Come on y’all, calm down.” From there it was forced to move into actual venues and club spaces, where it largely remains. Today, you can hear Ben Bauermeister spin records pretty much weekly at Bar DKDC as DJ Damp Velour. If you’re lucky, you could catch Parks Perdue at a show or a house party creating “intelligent freak music” as Intimacy. This is a family of Memphis artists and producers who are thinking big. People who realize genre is becoming more myth than tradition. People for which diversity, inclusivity, and intersectionality is paramount. Danielle Sklar was right for adoption. “Things are looking good here. It’s unfolding, she said.” She loves this city and the sense of urgency with which Memphis artists create. But sadly, she doesn’t belong to us. “I love Memphis, it’s home. But, of course I want to go to L.A. I want to go to Atlanta. I want to grow,” she said. This should not only be expected, but applauded. One, because she didn’t say New York (take that, yankees!), and two, because you want the good ones to leave. You want them to get out there and spread the gospel so more people will come to the church. How To Listen/Support/Go To A Show Here’s the link to perspicacity over paradox for purchase and download on Bandcamp. From there, you can also check out other Rare Nnudes releases on their Soundcloud and upcoming show dates on their Facebook page. Be warned; this is music for adults, unless…you want your kids to be woke. Magnolia has three upcoming shows: April 29 – Doula The Right Thing benefit at the Hi-Tone ($10, 18+) May 5 – LeMoyne Owen College “1st Annual” Festival (details TBA) May 20 – GRRL Fest at the Hi Tone ($15, 18+) About The Author Wesley Morgan Paraham loves the 901 so much that his cat is named Belvedere. If playing RPGs were a full time job, he’d be a rich man. He’s currently seeking a degree in public relations at the University of Memphis, and does freelance writing for I Love Memphis and graphic design in the meantime. Are you a home owner in Memphis, with a broken garage door? Call ASAP garage door today at 901-461-0385 or checkout http://ift.tt/1B5z3Pc

http://ilovememphisblog.com/2017/04/music-feature-magnolia-and-memphis-electronic-music-scene/