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thearchiviste · 5 months

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Music Analysis: Backburner - Niki

“Hey, are you still there? Good.” ━ Hope and Despair of Niki’s Backburner.

Have you ever been in a situation where you are the second choice of someone you adore most? This is the perfect song for you who have or are experiencing the same thing.

Nicole Zefanya, also known as NIKI, is an Indonesian singer-songwriter under the record label 88rising. She has been a hot topic lately amongst the recent generation with ever-better songs, such as “Every Summertime” and “Highschool in Jakarta.” In this post, we will discuss one of her tracks from her full-length studio album “Nicole” with the title “Backburner.”

Being on the back burner is an idiom for something being temporarily not being dealt with or considered, especially because it is not urgent or important. This is how Niki portrays unrequited love in the song titled Backburner. The song delves into the deep realm of heartbreak and yearning for unreciprocated love with the same frequency. To summarise, Backburner is about being the “second option” in someone’s love relationship despite showing love and attention to the person. Though there are bits of hope that the relationship could’ve been something more for the better, there are still struggles and despair throughout the song.

Let’s name the two personas in the song story as Niki and person A. The first part of the song explains the situation between the two people in the relationship, with the line ‘I can’t lie it feels nice that you’re calling / You sound sad and alone, and you're stalling.’ They’re living in an on-off relationship, with A returning to Niki whenever they need her attention and care. Foolish for her, she stayed for A every time they needed. To add to the scheme, Niki doesn’t care a single bit about the conversation, as long as they keep talking. Even though it might’ve hurt her, she’s glad that A’s calling her. The song escalates to Niki reminiscing their past, about how much they’ve made it through the storm. The lyrics ‘Asian Calvinism, we made it out of that’ explain their precious shared experience throughout their relationship before. Niki does realize that her choices are wrong, and she never learns her lesson despite knowing it. The pre-chorus talks about how A kept talking about their past, explained through the line ‘The Goo Goo Dolls are dead to me / But you bring them up’ which makes Niki long for A’s existence. Their relationship should’ve ended times back, but they kept on going as her desire to have a better relationship grew.

‘Maybe I'm just not better than this, I haven't tried / Maybe life's less romantic when I don't wanna die’ talks about how Niki felt that she wasn’t doing enough in the relationship, not willing to risk herself for the romance part in their life. She pushes the idea of her not doing what she’s supposed to do. She does it because she could never get her love to be reciprocated by A, although her effort might not be the actual problem. Niki thinks that A would think that she’s a fast learner, learning from her mistakes. But instead, she drowned in that small spark of hope and accepted being a backburner in their current relationship.

Moving to the second verse, Niki’s pathetic self still appreciates the fact that A still calls her every time they need help from her. ‘How do you feel lucky and appalled at the same time?’ tells about how she’s slowly getting tired of A begging at her, though she’s happy that she’s lucky enough; Lucky enough that A still needs her despite living as a second choice. Even after everything that had happened to them, Niki still puts hope and trust in A. Then, comes ��But I know in a week or so / You'll fade away again’ which explains how Niki is used to this relationship. The relationship where A comes to her only when they need to then disappears as if nothing ever happened. As the title of the post, ‘Hey, are you still there? Good’ explains hope mixing with despair as Niki wishes that A is there with her, desperately asking for A’s presence. It’s portrayed as if they were on a call they used to do, with A disappearing on the other side of the phone. Both parts of the song describe her low self-esteem and evolving co-dependency to A.

The second chorus served new lyrics, such as ‘Maybe I blame my mother bleeding into my stride / Maybe it was my father and his wandering eyes’ suggesting an unhealthy lifestyle of her family. Her mother taught her how to act as her father is always thinking about someone else despite being in a relationship. These two aspects made her reliant on this second-choice relationship subconsciously. The song ends with an outro with lyrics repetition of ‘Backburner’ as if Niki’s convincing herself that it’s fine to be A’s backburner. The part ended with ‘As long as you still think of me’ as it highlights the parts before clearer.

The rhythm and tempo of “Backburner” provides an uneasy sense of urgency in the narration. The key of the song also complements these aspects, making the song somehow heart-breaking yet optimistic. Despite the slightly complicated wording style of Niki herself, the message of the song is easily comprehensible as you listen through it over time. Overall, it is an intellectual masterpiece to the mind of the listener.

The song choice is because I have experienced it personally, though it might not be fully a “second-choice” type of relationship situation. It’s crazy how the lyrics resonate to me so smoothly as if it was flowing through my blood. I personally relate to the co-dependency and yearning cut. If I was told “please”, I might do anything but ignore the fact that I was competing in a losing game. Anxiety and overthinking are also a common characteristic of unrequited love, which is presented in the lyrics of the song. I feel like I’m ready to do anything as long as I can feel the same love back, even if that means crying in the corner of my room from never feeling enough. And, this song is the perfect theme for it. This song is exactly what I feel, and I thank Niki for creating this beautiful track. The moral of the story? Learn how to move on from that deep hole of uncertainty and pain. Or maybe, you could play this song on repeat while you’re at it. Krow’s signing off!

#lyrics analysis #music analysis #niki zefanya #backburner #nicole

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placedupon · 2 years

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Now that it’s Asian American and Pacific Islander month, I wanted to share my thoughts on a topic. I have mixed feelings about AAPI month as a whole, especially the way that Asian Americans erase (and speak over) Pacific Islanders during this month, but it’s not my expertise.

“East Asian” as a term is not very useful, especially when talking about history. Generally, the countries considered to be east asian are China, Japan, and Korea. The term definitely has it’s place when describing geographical locations, but when you look at it historically, “east asian” as a term becomes confusing and at worst obscures the important differences between the countries.

For one, Japan has invaded and colonized both Korea and China. Millions of people were killed and forced into sex slavery by Japan, and its affects are very much felt today. I’ve noticed many people talking about “east asian” hegemony as if the countries included in the term are all equally oppressive to other places-- when in fact Korea and China were invaded so incredibly recently by Japan (as were many other Asian countries, and Pacific Islander nations, including the Philippines, Vietnam, the Tungaru and Tuvula islands, and more). Regardless of how individuals feel about Korea and China, they simply don’t have the same history of colonization that Japan does.

If you’re talking about “east asian” as an appearance, that’s also difficult. Usually when someone describes an “east asian” person, they mean someone who’s pale, has straight black hair, and monolids. However, there are plenty of people who are and consider themselves to be Chinese, Japanese, or Korean who do not fit that description. China alone has over fifty distinct ethnic groups-- my mother is 100% Chinese, and has curly black hair and brown skin, and is often perceived as Filipino by strangers. There is not a singular look that “east asian” people have. If you want to talk about colorism or texturism, just say what specific country/culture you’re referring to.

#aapi #stop asian hate #aapi history month #asian american and pacific islander heritage month #ok to rb

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floralovebot · 2 years

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Hi! Me again, so I took what you said and decided to make Musa's surname Yuen, the Cantonese version of the surname Ruan, for my rewrite. Is that okay? Secondly, I want to refer to what you said about not making Melody a 1:1 version of China, I'm already doing a lot of research but the issue is knowing what to mix so I don't come across as offensive. I'm not trying to be historically accurate 100% but I think you should include an element of a culture and it's history. Thoughts?

Hey!

Yeah that name sounds good :)

When it comes to what to mix and what not to mix, generally speaking just try to be natural with it. Like try to "mimic" how cultures actually mix in real life (but maybe without the colonization factor). For instance, things like proximity and trading are very important when considering what would realistically mix. Southeast Asian countries don't have as much influence from say South Korea but a lot more from China. Meanwhile, the countries that border the continent have more culture mixing with Japan because of water trade routes (and mostly Japan being a major colonizer country but again maybe don't add that for your story).

Typically you should try to avoid mixing things like religions! You do want to avoid mixing anything that is very important and has either a belief or power element to it. Usually, when things like religions or governments are mixed, it's due to forced assimilation and/or other bad things. Pretty much anything that's super important and not on the more mundane side of culture you shouldn't mix. (Obviously, this is a case-by-case kind of thing, but if you mix religions, you need to think about how that happened. Was it due to colonization? Was it due to migration? Was it due to trading? Did one society adopt a religion because they didn't have their own belief system? Why didn't they have one? Things like that!)

Things that are commonly "mixed" though are foods, especially when regions share the same ingredients, weapons, textiles, and information (usually trading). Really just mostly items and knowledge on how to use them/make them. There can also be fashion mixing if there's any fabric trading and some language mixing to account for language barriers (the occasional word or two but usually not entire grammar rules; if it's an entire language, something else was at play there).

Something I personally think you should avoid doing is just mixing it all together and calling it a different culture. Disney did that with Raya and while I know plenty of people felt like that was good representation, to me, it felt very weird. Mixing cultures for the specific purpose of trying to put in as much representation as possible is almost never going to have a good outcome.

Something you also need to keep in mind is the actual cultures you're adding to Melody. In canon, Melody is mostly East Asia but has plenty of Southeast Asian culture. You certainly can add all of Asia but that could feel really forced depending on how you do it. Nabu and Helia are both coded as Asian and neither of them are from Melody yknow? You can do it properly! But it also really depends on how much you're actually going to talk about Melody and its culture and history. (A good way to casually do this is by introducing other Asian characters from Melody [like have a character with a Malaysian or Indian name etcetc]).

Another thing you need to consider is, again, proximity. How big is Melody? This is an entire planet we're talking about, not just a continent. You know how indigenous people in america didn't affect indigenous people in asia much? Same thing here! I'd actually recommend trying to map out Melody and where you want real life cultures to be (do try to keep the grouping similar though). This way you can plan out which cultures would actually "mix" (hint: it would be very similar to real life).

There's also the thing, and I don't remember what it's called, where two or more cultures can have similar aspects without coming into contact with each other. For example, a lot of different cultures can have similar dishes if they have the same ingredients available, even if they weren't in communication at that point.

Listen... there's a lot that goes into making worldbuilding Not Offensive when you make things based off of real life. Rainbow didn't think this far yknow? They weren't going to cause that's too much work and it's much easier to just slap the "vaguely ancient china" aesthetic on and be done with it. That's why they ended up taking so much inspiration from literally everywhere else. They didn't want to think about what would realistically "mix" because in their eyes all asian cultures are the same. And honestly, no matter what you do, there's always going to be an air of "hmmm are you sure about that?" when you don't make things realistic because they very much made Melody the Asian Planet™ and it's hard to get rid of certain real life cultural things without people side-eyeing you because "why did you do that 👀". Yknow?

Just... try your best! There are a couple of accounts here and there that do help with these kinds of things. Like just look for those "i'm writing something and i don't know if it sounds racist please help" blogs. There's so many of them! And while I can't guarantee that they'll answer you cause most of them get hundreds of asks, it would be a great place to look for advice since they've often already answered asks just like this (yknow the "i'm making an Asian Society how to not make it racist" kind of thing).

I do wish you the best of luck! And if you want to shoot me another ask about something specific, I'll do my best to help :)

#answered #btw only asian people are allowed to make comments here #if youre not asian you dont get to speak about this

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years

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It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #batfam salt #batfam is concerned #Daminette #the aftermath of ‘Like I did with you’#everybody talks by neon trees #max kante has blackmail and will use it #Alix will bite if provoked #dc x mlb #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a meta?#supportive Dupain-Cheng parents ❤️

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bisexualhobi · 2 years

Note

Hey! I saw this anon’s ask and wanted to write in a little if that’s ok. (Also thank you to the anon for bringing this up and you Ana for opening up this space/topic here).

I’m not entirely sure how to feel…when I first heard, it was..well exactly as the anon said - it feels weird when people from our country of origin talk who don’t live here talk about racism for us here. Yes they (BTS) have been working here, and more so recently, but they don’t and haven’t lived here. It’s a very different experience, especially during/with the pandemic when asian hate crimes/microaggressions/racism rose, to live here or grow up here. So at first, I felt a mixed bag of things - confusion, discomfort, and then tried to get a little excited?

I think Sandra Oh (or maybe it was someone else, I can’t remember) pointed out that growing up as the minority is such a different experience and that we’ll never know otherwise. Never know what it’s like to not have to think about how we look or act or who we are because we didn’t grow up with the majority of people looking like us or sharing a culture with us or speaking a same language/sharing a mother tongue. It’s first, or starts as, a very subconscious thing and then, personally, it felt devastating and sad to realize that and have to contend with everything that it entails. And a point anon brought up that’s important is that it’s not just growing up here, but also minorities that live here, which BTS do not.

Day to day, it’s a different life experience. It’s exhuasting to have to sit uncomfortable in your own skin. And be stared at cause you have different skin. And then be asked questions about ‘what are you’ and ‘what’s your nationality’ and called ‘exotic’, etc, etc. And then, there’s the little pockets we have to carve out for ourselves and fill with our culture, language, etc.

(sorry I really delved away from the topic here, but my point is that the small day to day things shape your life and identity and views. And racism, hate crimes, microagressions, etc just pile on top of that and shrink me.

And another big point is that no doubt that BTS experience racism, they’ve had death threats made against them, and the way they’ve been treated and asked questions and talked to by some interviewers in the US is abymsal, and none of this is to minimize how awful that is and how it affects them. it’s just a different experience as an asian American that I’m not sure this is the right space for them. (and they don’t fit everywhere, no one does)

Talking about experiences, like yesterday, I had to watch kids from a nearby school marching about how they should have been safe and saying ’no to guns and violence’ - like that comes from this American gun culture that they, BTS, don’t have to contend with or live with (geographically) in the same way)

Anyways, then I sorta tried to make myself get excited cause in the spaces I’ve seen so far, that’s the general feel of this announcement - that people are excited/proud of this upcoming meeting and discussion. Cause it does say something that this is the administration/president they are coming to see and be associated with and to a certain degree, BTS are apolitical. Or actually, rather they work in vagueries that pull in a wider range of people. Cause I think when you have broad messages, less people are offended. And more projections on them can be made that fit our own ideals because they just haven’t given specificities. So who we want them to be fits under that big umbrella. And however this administration is, they’re still associated with a party and certain liberal ideals/values that maybe BTS are ‘aligning’ with. (I say ‘aligning with’ very loosely) (hope I didn’t ramble too much here and it makes a little sense)

All that said, it’s also just my initial reaction and thoughts for an announcement. I’m (obviously) waiting to see what it’ll end up being when they talk next week. And maybe it’ll be a show of support and not to talk over asian american (AANHPI) experiences here (though to show support, do they have to come to the white house and have a ‘discussion’ about it themselves? Idk honestly…) So, further thoughts and feelings I’m trying to reserve until what they actually talk about and present is done. Hoping it isn’t talking over people (minorities) in the US...

Yeah, it’s just only how I feel. (Also, I didn’t go back and re-read or edit this, so hopefully my thoughts (and excessive as hell use of parentheses) weren’t too confusing.) Thanks again to the anons and you Ana for asking, for making some space.

absolutely thankful for your insight right here bean (i always call u bean omg is that ok?) this is very helpful for me and i hope it'll help my followers understand the nuisance of this situation better

listen to the asian diaspora. listen to asian american voices. listen to first generation immigrants. uplift their voices because we live in times where asian hate but specially asian immigrant hate is at an all time high!

#asks #beansprouts34 #bts

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years

Note

Goldy I never thought I would reach out to any Jikook blog but after your last post I have to. I am an east asian american and trans. I have never spoken on this issue, commented or posted about this. I am a Jikook supporter but sometimes Jikook supporting blogs don't feel like the friendliest place. I want to thank you for changing my opinion on that. It is an insult to BTS to say Jikook don't know they seem gay or that they don't know what gay looks like. It is an insult to fans like me to say it would be OK to do the things they do if they were cisgendered straight men. I personally saw a few people say or dance around this and they got intimidated by big blogs for it. I would never name names because I beleive in free speech and the right of people to express themselves, as long as it isn't hate speech. Supporting lgbt people and making sure they don't feel endangered is MORE IMPORTANT THAN STANNING A KPOP BAND and I say this as a 4 year long bts and Jikook stan. So many people don't want to touch this issue and I understand why.

But thank you for supporting ACTUAL lgbt people as well as bts and showing stubborn people that BTS mean gay rights when they say gay rights.

I don't know why but this Ask made me cry...

I've been reading it over and over for the past two days and each time I feel humbled by it. Thanks so much for sharing this with me.

I think the era of the obsessed 'kids' and '13 year old shippers' in this space is coming to an end. I think it's time for a more nuanced mature conversation on what it means to ship and stan our faves in today's sociopolitical climate.

Let's intellectualize shipping and use it as a vehicle for social change not just pleasure. Sabotaging political hashtags is a start. Trending and donating to BLM is equally important. Fighting for gay rights and recognition is the next step and a natural progression from here- and about damn time!

Gone are the days where celebrities and idols were immune to accountability and personal responsibility. We live in a world where everyone is required to be converstant in and sensitive to social issues. Awareness is woven into our collective consciousness and for some of us we cannot divorce that from our pleasure receptors.

Hate to quote my pastor but, 'As a kid, I spoke, thought and reasoned like a kid. As I grew up, chilee darling, I put my ghetto ways aside. You feel me?' Lol. Yea, my pastor hood like that. Lol.

The fact of the matter is, BTS has a higher mature demographics now. Majority of us grew with them, if not past them. They are not seventeen anymore, Jin is almost thirty, the youngest in the group is past twenty three and majority of their fanbase are breaching Young Adult well into Adulthood and beyond.

We simply cannot view them with the same lens anymore. If we did, we would be infantilizing them if not enabling them.

We ought to be able to have certain conversations that reflect our age, hearts, backgrounds, experience, values and beliefs.

We can't sit behind our television sets and smart phone screens in this day and age and assume BTS sat through a performance like this and did not for a second think about what it meant, why the crowd cheered at certain moments or even understand the impact, message and intent behind it- especially not when Halsey, an openly bisexual woman and advocate for LGBTG rights is an acquaintance of thiers.

I don't know how a fraction of this fandom can assume BTS would have a collaboration of this nature and not know anything about the gay rights discourse or what queer baiting is or not consider how their actions may or may not be contributing to the marginalization of persons as these- to not have agency and personal responsibility or empathy.

JK cannot stan a gay artist such as Troye Sivan and divorce his music from his sexuality because it flows from it. Not when Troye has openly spoken about the struggles he went through as a closeted gay man, coming out and how that affected his mental health.

JK knows what gay is, he is aware of the struggles queer people face on a daily. His decision to cover, license and recommend songs by this artist is a deliberate act coming from a place of being informed on the matter.

Jimin knows. RM knows. Suga knows.

BTS cannot prepare a speech like this while oblivious to the plight of the LGBTQ plus community. I refuse to believe that simply because it's not true. Anyone who says otherwise is a scammer. Lol.

And I think they are intelligent enough to have cognisance of the fact majority of the world view certain aspects of their home culture as problematic and non-progressive and that this same world is watching them and what they do in this space matters.

They are part of the conversation. And it's in their interest to present themselves as queer a queer friendly band and company by distinctifying themselves from these 'traditional' Kpop bands.

I believe they know that being woke gives them a competitive advantage as MCs and advocates for the youth in today's world.

I believe they are aware certain things in their 'fan service culture' doesn't fly in the space they compete in and want to compete in. They are competing and rubbing shoulders with top LGBTQ plus advocates, sharing seats with them at awards, standing next to them- they best to look sharp.

It's obtuse for anyone to fall on the 'culture' rhetoric to excuse certain behaviors of their idols when actual queer people from and within that same culture fight against it.

Most S. koreans I know and have come across complain about their 'culture' and some even harbor strong resentments against this whole fanservice culture.

Holland, an openly gay Idol from South Korea, has equally spoken out against the 'fan service' culture prevalent within Kpop on several occasions and laments how it depoliticizes queerness and affects actual queer people within S.K.

And isn't it funny that the same conservative Christian population who strongly oppose homosexuality in S.K often lead online campaigns against Jikook for 'promoting homosexuality' because of certain fanservice and skinship they do?

If skinship is normal and fanservice is culture, why does conservative S.K keep pushing back against it? It's their culture uno?! Lmho.

Queer south Koreans and conservative Christians hate fanservice culture and yet here we are using their culture to defend it as if it's all black and white. Lmho.

Did they or did they not see South Korean's reactions to this performance by Jikook? The mixed feelings most had about it?

Men can nibble on men's ear but God forbid they toss them in the air and catch em💀

South Koreans are not a monolith. Their culture is nuanced like any culture. It's not static and not clear cut black and white either.

It's one thing to respect other's culture, it's another to perpetuate it in ignorance. Perpetuating their culture and being religious about it does not allow for the dynamism inherent in their culture.

Troye Sivan talked about how he'd stop in the middle of his concerts and performances upon seeing the hyper fangirls in the front row and then think to himself, 'I know they know I'm gay, so why are they still here...'

And this was before he came out.

Jikook know we know they are queer or that we think of them as queer. When Jimin talks about 'those that love me for me' he knows exactly what he is talking about or rather who he is talking to- it's not these hets I'm afraid.

Troye also talked about being privileged because he lived in a rather queer friendly neighborhood where everyone is gay and so he'd always felt safe coming out.

Isn't that what JK is doing?

Now this is a person who's without a doubt had a lot of influence on JK in his early formative years as an Idol right down to his decision to move into a much queer friendly neighborhood of Itaewon.

They know we know. Jikook is gay.

Thankfully, there are reports of a rising number of LGBTQ plus in South Korea, a lot of allies, a lot of queer folks coming out and a lot of companies opening up to working with gay idols and aspiring idols.

It's such a relief but a lot of work still needs to be done and I stand with them on behalf of Jikook and any queer folk in SK.

My sister is helping me reach out to an LGBTQ plus advocate from Seoul for an interview for my blog. If everything goes well, I'd love for her to share her thoughts on queer passing, queer baiting and fan service within Kpop and how that affects LGBTQ youth in South K.

It's a conversation I'm really passionate about and interested in.

I love me some ships, but I also love me some queer advocacy and human rights uno? Lol.

Thing is, I may quit BTS one day, but I can never quit being me. Being human. Always put the human first is my motto.

Oh and I hear people are plotting to cancel me? Chilee. Y'all do that but:

Let it echo.

Signed,

GOLDY

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vlindervin7 · 3 years

Text

Here’s a short little extra scene for my ‘all the poets’ au! Read it here or on ao3 <3

Kieu My awakes to the sounds of birds chirping and rays of sunlight piercing the drapes in front of the window. She shuffles around her bed a little when her arm bumps into something warm and solid. She’s disoriented for all of two seconds, before remembering she’s not in her own bed, but rather in Fatou’s, where she had fallen asleep with her after hours of discussing all the things that had happened and laughing and getting to know each other all over again with all the facets of their identity in the open. And also making out.

She opens her eyes, a smile already on her face before seeing the axolotl in space stuck to Fatou’s wall and smiling even harder.

If she hadn’t physically been in Fatou’s literal bed right now, she probably would’ve believed it had all been a dream.

The clock on the bedside table says it’s 11:15. Kieu My isn’t really surprised she slept in that late when usually her biological clock wakes her around nine no matter the day of the week. After staying up most of yesterday night composing the scrapbook and making it the best she could, and then spending a whole day in school stressed out of her mind for what she was planning on doing in the afternoon, though, her body really needed the extra sleep.

Next to her, Fatou seems to still be fast asleep and Kieu My takes a moment just to take her in, now that she can without fear of being caught out or coming on too strong. She lets her eye linger on her cute nose, and the wisps of curly hair that are too short to be contained by her bun, and her soft pink lips that she now knows taste just as sweet as she’d always imagined, just as sweet as Fatou herself is.

She doesn’t know if Fatou’s lips are just that special, or if it’s a side effect of being with someone she actually has strong feelings for, but kissing had never felt as good as it had last night.

God, she still can’t believe Fatou actually likes her. Not picture perfect Kieu My, not pretty Kieu My, not party Kieu My, but just Kieu My and all the sides of her she doesn’t usually show people. It’s such a surreal feeling that she can’t help but laugh at the absurd turn her life has taken. And all because of a physics assignment.

At that moment, Fatou shifts a bit beside her, and Kieu My stays very still hoping she didn’t wake her, but it’s too late. Fatou blinks awake like a kitten and her face breaks open into a smile the moment her eyes land on Kieu My, rays of light warming her up all over.

‘Hi’, she croaks with her small voice still full of sleep.

‘Hey’, Kieu My answers and then they just stare at each other in disbelief for a moment before breaking out in giggles.

Fatou shuffles a little bit closer to Kieu My on the bed, burrowing deeper into the blankets and taking her hand, lacing their fingers together before bringing them to her mouth to press a kiss against it. Kieu My doesn’t know how it’s possible for such a small gesture to have the power to make her feel so gutted. An image pops into her brain of a small rock triggering an avalanche. An ocean of feelings.

‘Have you been awake long?’

Kieu My glances at the clock again. ‘About twenty minutes maybe.’

‘And you’ve just been lying here? Why didn’t you wake me?’, Fatou asks with a small furrow between her eyebrows like it genuinely bothers her.

Kieu My shrugs. ‘It’s okay, you looked so cosy. I was thinking.’

Fatou looks a mix of bashful and amused at the answer. ‘Your enormous brain just never stops, does it?’

‘Careful or I’ll eat yours, Axolotl Girl.’

Fatou laughs when she kisses her. Kieu My distantly wonders whether it should feel gross when they’ve just woken up. It doesn’t. It’s just as sweet as yesterday.

When they seperate, Kieu My says: ‘I feel weird not wearing makeup.’

She’s not sure why she chose to say this when there’s so many other things she could’ve gone with, but it’s what she was feeling and she always finds herself being uncharacteristically honest around Fatou.

The girl in question doesn’t seem to think it’s a weird thing to say, just looks at her like she couldn’t think of anything better to do in the world than get to know Kieu My. She’s always looked at her like that, she realises, and it makes Kieu My feel like she can be brave. So, when she asks ‘why’, Kieu My answers:

‘I’m not used to letting anyone see me without. Makes me feel vulnerable. Like I have less control over the situation, I guess. I don’t know.’

Fatou humms, like she’s thinking it over. ‘I think you’re just as breathtaking with or without makeup. But I don’t really care what you look like. I mean -- I do care, because you’re beautiful, but it’s not important to me. I mean --’, and then she cuts off, bringing the hand not holding Kieu My’s up to her forehead to tap it in embarrassment. ‘Wait, let me try again.’

Maybe in a little bit of a mean move, Kieu My lets her flaunder through the explanation, when she thinks she probably knows what she’s trying to say, but she just looks so cute. And she can’t lie and pretend it doesn’t feel nice to have someone do their very best to reassure her of something she struggles with. She does smile, though, to let her know she’s not offended or anything else that’s not completely, overwhelmingly happy right now, because she’s not that mean.

‘I just mean I always think you’re beautiful, no matter what, but that’s only a very, very small part of why I like you. You’re so much more than that.’

Despite knowing what was coming, the words still make their way straight to Kieu My’s heart, and embarrassingly, she thinks that if she let herself linger on them, they’d find their way to her tear ducts, too. But not today.

‘Most of the boys I was with before only liked me because they thought I was hot, or because they’d never ‘made out with an Asian girl before’. Or they only liked me at first at parties and such, but then when it turned out I’m a real person with flaws and problems and emotions, they’d grow tired of me.’

She’s never talked about how much it hurt and how useless it made her feel, like some toy that’s only fun until you get used to its tricks and the excitement dies out. She’s never had to verbalise it to her friends because they were there for most of it, but somehow it feels necessary to talk about it with Fatou. She wants to share everything with her.

She turned her gaze to the ceiling when she started speaking, too aware of Fatou’s eyes on her, so she doesn’t know how she’s reacting until Fatou squeezes their interlaced fingers tightly, twice, and then once more, and it gives her the courage to go on.

‘That’s one of the reasons I freaked out on you, too. I’m not really used to people being interested in me for more than my looks, so when you said you wanted to meet Zombie Woman, but also made it clear you weren’t interested in the real life version of me... I panicked. It’s the complete opposite of what always happens to me, and I figured you’d be disappointed, or didn’t like me, after all, or… I don’t really know what I thought exactly, just that there was no way it would end well.’

Her voice is getting a bit wobbly near the end, so she stops talking, having said everything she needed to say. She resolutely keeps her gaze fixated on one point on the ceiling for fear of her eyes spilling over. She hadn’t cried yesterday, but lying here next to Fatou in her bed right now, and verbalising everything she’d been feeling when it all went wrong is a lot, the relief she’s suddenly feeling so fucking strong, and it’s more than she can reasonably handle with a straight face.

‘Hey’, Fatou says, then, reaching out to lay her free hand on Kieu My’s cheek in a gesture asking her to look at her, and while Kieu My’s resolve not to cry right now might be strong, the effect Fatou has on her is infinitely stronger, and she’s powerless in the face of her gentle encouragements. She turns her head, and the sight of Fatou’s kind face really is a much better one than the white ceiling had been. ‘It did end well. And I like all of you.’

The tears do spill over at that, just two or three, but they rush down her cheeks in a stream of relief and happiness and, she can’t say it out loud yet, but love. ‘I like all of you, too.’

Fatou turns her over so she can climb on top of her, and then she’s peppering Kieu My’s tear-stained face with kisses, and they’re both laughing, carefree and uninhibited.

Kieu My never knew it could be like this.

She feels so still inside.

#druck #kieutou #kieutou au #local writer decides to be gay instead of studying for her exams #my writing

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withkun · 4 years

Text

volcanic | wong lucas

word count: 4.5k

pairing: female graduate student! reader x fratboy! lucas

genre: enemies to lovers au

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol

a/n: yesterday i had a dream about going on a date with lucas so you can thank @god for inspiring this mess. also the last person i slept with was a trump supporter and kinda inspired the relationship... i have regrets.

You hated admitting it to yourself, but you were instantly drawn to Lucas when he first entered the ballroom. Along with his trademark dashing smile, he disregarded the dress code and opted for a formal, black-tie suit. If you hadn’t known better, you would have guessed he was a famous actor or a prince out of a fairy tale. Of course, his entrance garnered everyone’s attention as well. Whispers and quiet giggles began to flood the room.

Flustered, you tore yourself away from him and reached for a small flask buried at the bottom of your purse. Emergency vodka could go a long way on nights like these.

“A bit early, don’t you think?” a smug voice arose.

You gritted your teeth and brought the flask to your lips, then ignored the burning sensation slipping down your throat. “Not at all,” you murmured, your voice almost a growl.

Without prompt, Lucas pulled the flask from your hands and helped himself to a sip. “Svedka,” he complained. “Definitely too early for that.”

You watched him down the remainder of the liquor, your anger beginning to boil. “Don��t you have to prepare yourself for the pageant?”

He eyed you, seemingly finding amusement in your fury. “I am,” Lucas assured you. “I’m actually campaigning right now.”

“I’m not voting for you,” you told him, a self-satisfied grin replacing your scowl.

Unphased, Lucas offered you a wink. “We’ll see,” he said in a sing-song voice, then left you to your devices and an empty flask.

Before you could chase after him and demand replacement vodka, your student organization beckoned you to their table. Begrudgingly, you slumped over and plopped into your chair. Your table consisted of the other members of the executive board, being Taeyong, Johnny, Taeil, Yuta, Jaehyun, and Doyoung. “I will pay everyone at this table fifty dollars to not vote for Lucas,” you muttered, half-serious with a glance to Taeyong. “Back me up Mr. Club President.”

Taeyong widened his eyes, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “We’re just here as a courtesy,” he laughed awkwardly. “Try not to stir any trouble.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, with the knowledge that he was right. The APIDA Graduate Student Organization rarely involved itself in any undergraduate matters, but sometimes aligned with their APIDA counterparts for events like this especially seeing as most of their members once were a part of those groups. Arguably, the Mr. Asia pageant was the most important conglomerate event of the year. Each Asian, Pacific Islander, and Desi undergrad student org sent one representative each year to compete for the title of Mr. Asia. The representatives would prepare a talent portion, then partake in a question and answer session. Other attendees would dress to the nines, often seeing the event as an opportunity to flex. Most, however, did not flex to Lucas’ extent. They were also served a meal to be shared with other club members. After, attendees would cast their votes and crown that year’s Mr. Asia.

“No,” you deadpanned, already rummaging through Johnny’s backpack. “Unless maybe you keep me drunk this entire evening. Then I might consider.”

Of course, you knew it was only a matter of time until Lucas ran with his fraternity, Pi Delta Psi, or PDPsi for short. You were hoping you’d graduate before that happened. And yet, in your sixth year at the university you found yourself subjected to the terrors of frat boy Lucas gloating more than usual.

Johnny offered you his coke upon seeing your distress, and you were not surprised to taste an exuberant amount of rum. You wrinkled your face, but still refused to return the mixed drink. Johnny and Jaehyun shared a laugh as you downed the drink. “If I make you another drink will you forgive us for voting for Lucas,” Johnny inquired, his bottom lip pouted.

Meanwhile, Taeil passed his water bottle to you. An inauspicious clear liquid to the untrained eye, but you knew better. You looked positively giddy pouring yourself a glass of lemonade followed with a solid two shots worth of Taeil’s vodka. “You rich boy,” you accused jokingly. “Out here with Tito’s.” With a grateful smile, you offered, “But you are officially my favorite and hereby ‘best boy.’”

Yuta snatched the bottle and poured some in his water before Jaehyun could get his grimy hands on it. “Petition to all vote for Mark Lee,” he said, prompting the club for a cheers.

Your fellow members clinked glasses just as the lights began to dim. With a relaxed sigh, you whispered, “Hear, hear!” At least the booze hit before you had to see Lucas parade around on stage.

The event went as it did each year, Lucas taunting you with knowing smirks occurring as it always did. This time, you had to endure it with him from the spotlight. You made it a game to send him goofy, tipsy expressions that were often accompanied by finger guns and hearts in hopes of throwing him off. Lucas, unbothered, continued with his act. His confidence only seemed to grow.

However, you had not anticipated Lucas’ performance in the talent show. The performance began slowly as Lucas executed a graceful traditional Chinese dance. The music suddenly changed tempo, and your jaw practically dropped to the table when he ripped off his shirt. You knew he was ripped, but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his sculpted body. Your increasingly drunk mind went forbidden places before you snapped out of it.

Your friends noticed your cheeks burning red and stifled laughter as Lucas closed his performance. You felt his eyes on your back, your head buried in your hands.

“Oooooh,” Jaehyun teased, “He’s looking at you.”

Although a few seats away, you managed to land a solid knee kick that elicited a sharp yelp from the boy. “He’s not,” you said defensively.

Even Taeyong let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve been flirting for years…”

“You think that excessively hating each other is flirting?” you inquired incredulously.

The boys exchanged looks and knowing smiles, a familiar ritual that occurred each time you and Lucas interacted.

Frustrated, you rose from your seat and made even strides to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cheeks still ablaze from embarrassment. To your gratitude, you still looked fairly sober otherwise.

You almost jumped when you heard a couple knocks on the restroom door. “Occupied,” you called out.

The handle twisted to reveal a sweaty Lucas, peeking curiously through the crack. “Is it just you?”

“Yes,” your answered with a bitter tone. “What can I help you with in this esteemed ladies’ restroom?”

“Hold out your hands,” he ordered.

You obliged but raised your eyebrows in confusion. Lucas carefully placed a Pepcid capsule in hand, a bottle of water in the other. “What?”

Lucas shrugged. “I get Asian glow really bad too,” he replied, “unless if there’s another reason your cheeks are read.

Overzealous, you swallowed the pill and downed the entire bottle of water. “We both know it’s Asian glow,” you said defensively.

“You’re welcome!” Lucas said, already half out the door.

And once more, he left you stunned and silent.

In your purse, your phone began to buzz with frantic messages from the boys. Jaehyun made fun of you for already breaking the seal, while Taeyong demanded that you respond before he calls an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. A third unknown number accompanied the texts with an invite to the PDPsi after party that night.

You returned to your table to find that the pageant had already moved into the question and answer portion. Mark Lee excitedly described his plans to bring more of the university clubs together for common causes. That meant Lucas was on deck.

Thankfully, the Pepcid worked some of its magic and brought your cheeks back to a normal color. You almost felt sober again. Still, Lucas’ actions muddled your mind.

With a polite bow, Lucas concluded his session and prompted the closing of the pageant.

Lucas took the stage and elicited quite a few cheers. His frat brothers startled the room as they let out a deep chant in support. Graciously, Lucas approached the microphone and once more glanced in your direction. Without expression, you offered him a thumbs up which he appeared to appreciate.

He surprised you once more with his articulate and thought out answers before you remembered his background. His father, an industrious and well-known businessman in Eastern Asia, likely prepared him for moments like this. Lucas may have been an untouchable playboy, but he was also poised to become a part of his father’s company. Still, you felt a certain genuity to his words despite that.

You turned your attention to your cell phone and took in the options. As your thumb hovered over Mark Lee’s name, you could not stop your eyes from wandering to Lucas’. Biting your lip, you hesitantly selected Lucas.

Within a few moments, the results were in and the MCs called the contestants to the stage. You refused to look at Lucas, instead focusing intently on your restless hands.

You expected to hear Lucas’ name, but instead heard Mark Lee announced as 2020’s Mr. Asia.

Following the applause, the MCs bid everyone a good night. Johnny addressed the table, “We’re all going to PDPsi’s after party, right?”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Lucas clowning around with his frat brothers, then turned back to your friends. “Do we have to?”

“Absolutely,” Doyoung responded, eliciting flabbergasted responses from the table.

They all stared at you expectantly, knowing that you were cornered. If Doyoung wanted to party, an event none of them would have ever predicted, then you would have to see that through. “Fuck y’all,” you grunted.

A couple hours later, you arrived as a group at the notorious PDPsi frat house with a few handles. You hadn’t changed your outfit, but the boys ensured that you at least let your hair down from your high ponytail and touch up your makeup. They convinced themselves that the night was finally upon them, the night where you and Lucas would finally hook up. Despite their protests, you looked essentially the same. You wore mostly light makeup, but maybe got overzealous applying highlighter. You adorned the same black neck top tucked into a short argyle skirt, but with different shoes. The boys made you wear your “slut shoes,” which were basically just a pair of thigh-high suede black boots. In your hasty attempt to get ready, you barely had time to drink.

The party already was in full swing, and you could easily hear the music from a couple houses down. Beer cans and empty white claws littered the front lawn. A few people played beer pong on the front deck, but they had only filled the cups with water. The boys paired off amongst themselves in preparation for the drinking game, leaving you without a partner. Just as you began to complain, Lucas appeared at your side. “Hey, Y/N, I’m claiming you as my beer pong partner. Oh, and we’re next.”

Lucas practically dragged you away. “I’m terrible at beer pong,” you attempted to dissuade him.

Indifferent, Lucas made the first shot and gave your team the advantage of going first. “Here, I’m better at going second.” He pushed the ping pong ball in your hand.

You considered your options for a second. “You’re lucky I hate losing more than I hate you.” With that sentiment, you watched your ball splash into the back-right cup.

He grinned. “I knew it.”

Despite being a frat boy, AKA master of all party games, Lucas did not have a consistent shot. Still, you fended off the opposing team until you were down to the last cup. Two consecutive shots in and they would win. “Let’s make this interesting,” you offered. “If you miss your shot, you have to do whatever I want.”

With a knowing a smile, Lucas agreed. “If I make it, then you have to do whatever I want.”

You nodded, your confidence swelling, then gleefully watched your ball land perfectly centered in the last cup. And to your horror, you watched Lucas do the same thing.

“Oh, humble winner,” you decreed sarcastically, “what it is that you seek?”

To no one’s surprise, Lucas replied, “I want you to kiss me.”

You saw it coming, but that didn’t mean you were any less disgruntled. In a classic, you-like fashion, you launched into a rant. “Seriously, Lucas?? You’re a robot set to fuck boy mode and I will not be a part of it- “

He took your arm and pulled you away from the deck, into an alleyway. “You lost the bet,” Lucas reminded you. “And all you have to do is uphold your part of the deal.” He gestured around the empty space. “No one will even see it.”

You caught your breath, still enraged. “I was just going to make you find a new beer pong partner if I won. And maybe take a shot.”

“I wish you’d stop denying that there’s something between us.”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t bring your eyes to his and left them trained on the pavement. You never denied that you felt attracted to him. Yet, you also despised him for how perfect everyone perceived him to be. You saw another frat boy when you looked at him, nothing special. “What is there between us,” you asked cautiously.

“You try a little too hard to hate me, don’t you think?” Lucas pulled your chin up to meet his gaze.

Damn it. Sometimes he was too good. With him watching you so closely, you knew you couldn’t lie. “And what game are you playing now?”

“I’m not playing any games,” Lucas answered with sincerity.

Your mind whirling, you pressed your lips against his only for a second. Just a quick peck, nothing more. “And there you have it, humble winner. I’ll be inside drinking myself into an oblivion.”

Lucas grabbed your wrist before you could run off and pulled you closer for another kiss. This one, longer and deeper than before. You couldn’t help but melt into it and wrap your arms around his neck. Soon his tongue danced softly with yours, and you knew you were in for it. He had you.

You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath and gather your thoughts, but Lucas attached his lips to your neck and made his way to your ear. He planted soft kisses along its shape, then lightly bit your ear lobe. His heavy breaths in your ear made a knot in your stomach tighten. “I can’t believe I voted for you,” you admitted, your inhibitions disappearing.

You felt him smile as he kissed your lips once again. “I voted for Mark,” he murmured.

For the first time, he had you laughing genuinely. “In what kind of world do I vote for you and you vote for Mark Lee?” With that, you pressed your body closer to his, close enough to feel a growing bulge grind against your core. Teasing, you drew your hips back and forth.

Lucas soon grew impatient, and growled in your ear, “You’re driving me crazy. We’re going to my bedroom.”

“Not until I say so.” You attached your lips to his again, continuing to rock your hips.

His breath hitched in his throat, and you knew you had the power. Seeming to catch himself, he grabbed your wrists and held them against the brick wall behind you. “I want you,” he said airily, “all of you.”

“Fine,” you agreed, accepting the stalemate. “But no one sees us.”

You snuck around to the back yard first, praying that no one would question her messy hair and how red her lips must have been. Thankfully, you only saw Doyoung who acknowledged your presence with a knowing nod. At least you knew he wouldn��t snitch... most likely.

You skimmed you hand across his book shelf, retrieving his copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. The pages were marred with messy annotations in Chinese and English, so many you could not understand.

Lucas directed you to the far left bedroom on the frat house’s second floor. You stepped over beer cans and finally made your way there. Inside, you were almost surprised with how tidy everything was. He was a fuck boy, but damned if he didn’t keep his room up to A

sian parent standards.

Behind you, you heard the door open and lock click. Lucas pushed you against the bookcase, causing you to drop the book. “I was reading,” you managed as his hands wandered up and down your body and stopping to cup your breasts.”Didn’t take you for a Vonnegut guy.”

He lifted you, bridal style and tossed you onto the bed with ease. “I’m not just a fuck boy,” Lucas said, climbing over you. “I also read books for class.”

“You’re depth is astounding,” you mocked playfully. “I didn’t know you actually do your assignments.”

In response, he lifted his henley shirt over his head and once more revealed his toned torso and upper body. “I’ve changed a lot since I was a freshman, I thought you paid more attention.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “Like when you banged half of the AKDPhi sorority girls two years ago.”

“Okay, that was exaggerated,” Lucas grinned, hooking his fingers the hem of your skirt. “I haven’t slept with anyone in a year.”

You pulled your shirt off, prompting Lucas to dispose of your skirt as well. You were left in just your nude bra and panties, and Lucas breathless. “I find that hard to believe,” you scoffed, your tone a bit softer. “Are you going to tell me you’re secretly a virgin as well?”

“I mean,” Lucas scratched his head, “I used to get around.”

You took his moment of weakness in stride, moving so that you were on top of him. You registered the surprise on his face and let out a laugh. “Do you forget that I’m older than you, maybe even more experienced?”

As you undid Lucas’ belt, your eyes met. Both full of hunger and desire. A part of you felt as if you were making a bad decision, becoming another name for him to add to his list. Even so, you didn’t care. You hadn’t felt so alive since you dated your first boyfriend. Everything felt like a rush then, every kiss and every glance. Losing your virginity hadn’t even felt as good as these playful moments together.

With Lucas’ help, you removed his jeans. Both you were similarly half naked, only undergarments shielding the rest of your bodies. In that moment, you finally saw your similarities. Thirsty for control over the way you were perceived, a love for power, and longing for each other. “What do you see in me?” you inquired.

“Someone who could easily kick my ass,” he replied, his tone light but entirely serious. “I can’t believe I managed to get you in my bed.”

You scoffed. “I chose to be here, and I’m the one who made you want it.”

Lucas conceded, leaning up to kiss you, “That’s true. I’ve never dated someone that gives me such a hard time.”

“We’re not dating,” you prompted. “I only hate you slightly less now.”

“You’re the most interesting person I ever met,” Lucas said woefully. “And what do you see in me?”

“A clown,” you answered without hesitation. “Boo-boo the fool, if you will.”

You didn’t stop his hands as the reached for your bra clasp and let it fall off your chest.

“But you’re also sweeter and more genuine than I thought you could be,” you granted. “Thank you for the Pepcid, by the way.”

And with that, you pulled down his boxer briefs. His already hard length popped out, You maintained eye contact as you ran your tongue along the shaft, closing your mouth at the tip. Once again, you continued this motion and began to suckle his testicles and flicker your tongue as your hand firmly stroked his dick. He lost himself, groaning and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You loved seeing him like this, completely bent to your will. Returning your attention to the tip, you ran your thumb gently across the slit before replacing it with your mouth. You bobbed your head along the length and urged yourself to take more and more. Lucas encouraged you, his fingers tangling in your hair and guiding your motions. With almost its entirety reaching the back of your throat, you gagged.

Honestly, you could’ve went on like this for hours, but Lucas roughly flipped you over and dragged his index finger over your panties. You shuddered as it ran over your clit, then down to the wet spot you left. “My turn.”

In a swift motion, Lucas slid the panties down your legs and threw them aside. Lucas stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight of your naked, waiting body. He wasted no time in pushing your legs back, fully exposing you, and planted butterfly kisses along your thighs. His flat tongue lapped from your entrance and up to your clit, then down again. The anticipation almost made you lose your mind. He closed his lips on your clit, tongue to circling the sensitive bud. You never realized how big his hands were until he slid a finger inside of you. The overwhelming sensation had you gasping, begging for more. And then he slid another finger alongside it, pumping rhythmically as his tongue continued to work on your clit.

You had slept with a few partners before, but none left you as unhinged as Lucas. The pleasure built, somehow rendering you more helpless to his whim, and its release almost had you screaming.

In your shock, you sat up and looked at Lucas with bewilderment. “No one has ever made me come before.” To your embarrassment, it was true. You either grew tired and faked it or they never even made an attempt.

With a devilish look in his eyes, he sucked the two fingers that had previously been inside you. “Maybe you should have given in sooner.”

“Oh, just shut the fuck up and fuck me already.”

He went to open his cabinet drawer beside his bed and searched for a condom. “Protection first.”

You laid back on the bed, still catching your breath. “I’m on the pill,” you confided. “As long as you don’t have the clap, we’ll be fine.”

“Good thing I only have chlamydia.” Lucas kissed you, the taste of your orgasm still on his lips, and positioned himself at your entrance.

His forehead rested on yours, eyes cast down to where your bodies met. Slowly, he thrusted inside you, eliciting your moans. He moved his hips delicately, making you feel every inch bury itself deeper. Instead of immediately jackhammering it in, Lucas took his sweet time and chose his own pace. He brought his lips to your nipple, suckling on it softly. You couldn’t believe his patience.

“I’m going on top,” you managed, pushing Lucas down where you had laid. Although already turned on, you wanted to see Lucas squirm the way he had you. You brought your folds over his cock, driving him just as mad as you predicted. When you finally allowed him back in, he attempted to thrust upward. You shut him down, resting your hands on his pecs. “And now I’m in control,” you gloated. You ground your hips and then slowly brought yourself up and down. “So I’m going to do what I want,” you whispered into his ear.

He looked up to you, an animal-like glare present in his eyes. “Don’t forget who made you come.”

You sped your pace, willfully doing all the work. This time, you wanted Lucas to know he couldn’t do anything but allow himself to be used. And he watched you losing yourself on top of him, never having been more turned on in his life.

As you slowed, he brought your chin down for a chaste kiss. A trick, you realized, but too late, he thrusted into you this time much faster. You felt the hints of another orgasm budding, and involuntarily tightened your walls. Lucas felt the shift, drawing himself out. “You’re not going to come until I want you too.”

Before you could protest, Lucas aligned his head below your womanhood and pulled you in closer. His hands attached to your hips, encouraging you to rock yourself on his tongue. “You’re really something,” you murmured, obliging to his whims.

He murmured against you, sending vibrations up your spine. Soon enough, he had you writhing in your orgasm all over again.

Still unfinished himself, he positioned you on your hands and knees. Lucas pushed himself inside you, then slapped your ass. “God, your body...”

You couldn’t support yourself as he vigorously fucked you, but allowed your hand to float to your clit. As Lucas increase his pace, you felt your breath hitch. His thrusts became sloppier, and you realized he was close as well. Unable to hold out longer, you came again. Lucas followed shortly after, coming onto your back as you laid there, nearly exhausted. He produced a towel and wiped the excess off.

Lucas fell next to you, out of breath, and nearly exhausted. “Wow,” he muttered.

You rose from the bed, still shaking and legs a bit sore. “I’ll be in the shower. You’re welcome to join me as long as there’s no hanky panky.”

“No promises,” Lucas smiled, slowly gathering himself. “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

You, still naked, walked to Lucas’ bathroom with a sway in your step. Just to mess with him. He gave you a moment for yourself while you turned on the shower and stepped in. You felt as if you were in a different reality, being in Lucas’ bathroom and just having had sex with Lucas Wong. You wondered if the rest of your student organization would be surprised, but suspected that they wouldn’t. Maybe Doyoung would’ve have filled them in when you didn’t return to your shared apartment with Yuta.

Lucas came in soon after, still eyeing your body the way he was before. “You can stay the night if you want, maybe get breakfast tomorrow.”

You kneaded some shampoo into his hair, and repressed a smile. It was like he read your mind. “I suppose so,” you attempted to be casual.

“And back to the dating thing,” Lucas began, “maybe we should try it.”

“Is that code for you want to have sex with me again?”

“I won’t deny that’s part of it,” Lucas admitted.

You turned from him to face the faucet, and felt him behind you once again. This time, you felt comforted by his embrace. “We’ll see how breakfast goes,” you offered.

He laughed, a low sweet sound prompting you to smile. You let yourself go in the moment, enjoying the feeling the water cascade down your skin and Lucas’ presence warming your body. “You’re never going to stop giving me a hard time, are you?”

You shook your head.

OLucas turned you to face him, descending his lips onto yours. “I wouldn’t want you to stop.”

#nct #wayv #superm #wong yukhei #wong lucas #nct lucas #nct fic #yukhei fic #nct au #nct lucas au #yukhei smut #nct smut #lucas smut #lucas scenario #smut #yukhei scenario #yukhei imagines #lucas x reader #yukhei x leader

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Justice Chapter 1: How?

This is a mini series (hahaha mini series... ok) about the MC in the ReWritten Series, now named Uesugi Yoko. What happens to her after she’s left in Japan by the Caesar Team and what challenges is she facing?

If you read, please leave me feedback! ^_^

Yoko Uesugi looked at her phone from the rumpled sheets in a black tank top and shorts. Tokyo was seven hours ahead of Rome so it would be midnight, ‘Caesar Time’. She’d cheekily texted ‘you up? >:P’, but got no response. He probably was awake, but Caesar was the worst texter and seemed to get worse the more she wanted to hear from him.

She imagined him still awake, smoking a cigar and drinking Champagne. In the Takamagahara he used to stay up all night long to work and sleep in the morning. Yoko still struggled to wake up in the morning and sleep at night, even now. Most of her studying she did at night by the light of a lamp, polishing her Japanese reading and script, studying history, and dragon genealogy. On the nightstand she had crossed off 35 assignments. But this was an accelerated pace she set for herself, not something required by the Japan branch. In fact, Anjou blithely told her that thanks to her performance on the mission, she could be excused from classes entirely.

But knowledge was power, and she needed power.

She made an effort not to bother Caesar. Her assignment in Tokyo was her business after all. He had nothing but full confidence in her ability to handle any difficulty that came her way. So it felt like she was doubting him when she suddenly wondered if what she was doing was going to end up well done in the end.

And now she wondered if she was going to end up dead.

Months ago, she’d awakened at Cassell College after experiencing the destruction of Black Swan Bay. The disorienting change in circumstances was made all the worse when she was subsequently shipped off to Japan to perform a dangerous mission. She learned that the man who had run the human experimental labs at Black Swan continued the cruelty in Japan. Dr. Herzog set up two organizations from a single family group of hybrids, splitting families apart by their bloodline heritage either the stable ‘good’ genes of Hydra or the ‘trash’ violent genes of the Devil Clan.

He ran experiments on both groups and used violent means to dispose of the undesirable results. When he finished his research, he launched a campaign to eliminate the Devil Clan by framing them for wanting to resurrect ‘god’ that is, the Light King. In less than a week, hundreds of people were dead, thousands were injured. And those who survived had their lives torn apart.

Herzog was dead by her hand, but his legacy lingered in the ruins of the Hybrid families of Japan. Yoko’s assignment was to help heal the fracture between the Devil Clan and the Hydra. Herzog’s legacy in Japan was connected to Black Swan Bay and she knew him intimately. It wasn’t enough to just kill Herzog and call it justice. She wanted to dismantle Herzog’s entire deadly philosophy that caused the slaughter in the first place and undo his legacy in Japan down to the foundation.

However, what needed to be done was going to run her up against some very powerful people. She wanted Caesar’s advice, but he wasn’t answering. Yoko put her phone down and got up to get ready for the day.

Yoko Uesugi wasn’t her actual name. Her real name was Russian because that’s where she was conceived. Her dark hair and eyes appeared Asian, however, only her square jaw and longer nose spoke to some other mixed heritage. It was easier to just adopt a Japanese name rather than have them struggle with her Russian one.

The light was already on in the bathroom. A girl with long red hair brushed her teeth in the mirror and moved aside to let Yoko in. Erii was the one who gave Yoko her last name, fully adopting her as an Uesugi sister. Like Yoko, Erii was the result of Herzog’s experimentation and should have been killed by him. She was the chosen vessel for the Light King parasite, the so-called Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto, who could fully assimilate the genes of the dragon into her own body at the cost of her mind.

She was horribly unstable. The dragonblood in her body was eating away at her. Yoko was in a similar state and together they bonded over their shared illness. Thankfully, they both ended up sharing the cure of the Light King’s fetal blood that saved their lives, but even this was at a great cost. The resurrection of the Light King provoked the eruption of Mt. Fuji, devastating earthquakes, and a large tsunami that killed hundreds of people. Erii and Yoko got their lives back but the scars on Tokyo were still very apparent.

Erii wrote in her notebook and held it up. “Sakura-Kun got promoted. He’s a big man in College now.”

“That’s good news. Tell him I said congrats.” Yoko runs a brush through her hair and yawns. “Hope it doesn’t get a big head.”

Erii lifted up the paper again. “He says he doesn’t know how he’ll manage.”

“I can sympathize with that.” Yoko looks down at her brush.

As soon as Caesar Gattuso, Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei left Japan, Yoko was approached by the Clan Chief, Nanami Sakurai who had been placed over the Hydra Executive Board by Chisei Gen before his disappearance. Yoko didn’t know Nanami very well other than a brief encounter where she’d furiously slapped Caesar in the face, not knowing it was him. The cold, murderous look in her eyes frightened Yoko into fleeing the elevator she was in.

But after the events in Japan, Nanami was very different.

Nanami Sakurai had suffered from both sides of the War. Her relatives were members of the Devil Clan. Akira was less than ten years old when it was determined that his bloodline was dangerous and he was shipped off to the prison like schools for the violent. Kogure Sakurai was older, about fourteen when she was sent away. The two half siblings both died because they took Herzog’s poison and mutated. They were both killed by Chisei Gen.

Not only that, but two men she loved among Hydra died to the Devil Clan. The Kotaro of the Fuma Clan and Genichiro Ryoma.

Nanami took Yoko to an onsen and teahouse where they stayed for a week, talking and swapping stories. Yoko told Nanami the truth. The man who separated Kogure and Akira from her family was the same man who provided the poison that turned them into monsters and the same man who sent Chisei Gen to kill them. The man who did that was also the same man who drove Chime Gen to madness by converting him into Ruri Kazama. Ruri Kazama then killed Kotaru Fuma. This same man planted the Kanto Group in Hydra and induced them to rebel, an action that would lead to the death of Genichiro.

The men she loved in Hydra and her Devil Clan family were all victims of the same man who wanted to resurrect the ‘god’. Dr. Herzog.

Nanami Sakurai was silent and numb for a long time, her eyes dull. She didn’t speak again that night.

Once Yoko returned to her lodging in Genji Heavy Industries, she sent her a memo on how she thought the damage should be repaired. Yoko commented that it was important to listen to all the victims to get a full account of matters and collect evidence to document what happened first before making any decisions.

Kaguya the super computer had her core destroyed in the fighting and was still being rebuilt from a backup, but many of the records were held on personal devices and Nanami also sent out neutral representatives for witness testimony.

Yoko had spoken to a man of the Inuyama family named Chance who gave her a glimpse of the violence during that horrible week. His family was all killed and their apartment block set on fire. The young children were all orphaned and institutionalized. But even that was only the tip of the bloody iceberg.

The Devil Clan controlled eleven of the eighteen yakuza gangs in Osaka, and the seven gangs loyal to Hydra had always been peaceful to them. But overnight the world changed. The gates of the Genji Heavy Industries building opened, black vans drove out in a convoy and the top members of the Hydra poured out. The moment they arrived in Osaka, the seven Hydra gangs launched an attack on the Devil Clan. Never before in history had a yakuza war been fought so efficiently. It was no less than Hitler's blitzkrieg of Poland. The Devil Clan gangs were crushed one after another before they could organize themselves. Seven of the eleven Devil Clan gangs declared their allegiance to the Hydra Yakuza, three of Devil Clan hold out gangs were beaten to death with bats, and the last one was disbanded. Overnight, Osaka became the Osaka of the Hydra

Not only Osaka, but also from the south to the north, all the gangs loyal to the Hydra family took action and spared no effort to attack the gangs loyal to the Devil clan. Either the Devil Clan members surrendered or their bodies were left on the street.

Hydra had almost all the information about the Devil clan, including the illegal transactions of the clan's gangs and government officials who had dealings with them. The police department received anonymous emails with evidence of the Devil Clan’s crimes, and as soon as the judge accepted the evidence, more than half of the Devil Clan members would be sentenced to prison. The officials who covered up for them received death threats. A prefectural assemblyman was suddenly lifted by a helicopter on the highway in his car, flying 500 meters in the air. The terrified prefectural assemblyman received a phone call in the air from Zuo Shang, an old-timer in the Hydra family, expressing his cordial greetings. Ten minutes later, the helicopter dropped off the senator's car in front of the prefectural assembly building, and by then the senator had become a member of the Hydra family.

But the ‘ghosts’, the unstable hybrids, never even had the option to defect. Even though they had the blood of the Hydra family in their bodies, in order to escape, some of them used potions that forcibly purified their blood. In front of the Executive Board, which was created to kill people like them, they were just a bunch of desperate beasts. No matter how furiously they struggled, their hearts were pierced by explosive bullets filled with mercury. The aces that the Executive Board brought along with them were responsible for pouring the bodies of the ‘ghosts’ into the cement piles. The cement piles were driven into the bottom of the sea to form a neat array. The Maruyama Construction Institute, to which the Hydra family belonged, would build a shrine on that reclaimed land to commemorate the dead.

The ghosts who did surrender would be imprisoned for life. During the Heian period, the Hydra family set up a black prison in the hollow of Mount Kobe to imprison the ghosts that appeared in the family. After the Meiji Restoration, the family was exposed to Western ideas and felt that the black prison was not humane enough, so they closed it, but suddenly the rusted iron gate had opened again. Very few ghosts surrendered however, preferring death to an eternal prison and that prison filled with their children.

Yoko had stood on the shore of the sea, looking over the rows of concrete piles under the waves, knowing that each one contained the body of a man or woman who had chosen not to be imprisoned forever and a great cold came over her. Right behind her, the people assigned as her escort and guard were the same ones who had ended these lives. Unless there was an investigation, it would be impossible to tell who was acting in good faith to repair the damage and restore the Japan branch to harmony and who would much rather let all the former Devils serve as a building’s foundation elements.

Thoughts of financial reparations and placement of orphans were suddenly overshadowed by the names of famous courts like Nuremberg and the Hague and Gacaca…

The suggestion of an investigation and trial of cruel members of the executive board went over as poorly as she expected. Where in Japan could she find impartial judges? Hydra owned everything, all the officials in the courts. No witness would ever testify openly in such a situation. Outside judges would have to be brought in. Who could be trusted with compiling such a roster? Who would be in charge of protecting them from corruption and intimidation?

The pushback was immediate. The Executive board were respected and highly regarded members of the Hydra. How could they be prosecuted for sparing no effort in stopping the Devil Clan from resurrecting god? Nanami didn’t tell anyone that this was all a plot of one man. They all still believed it was 100% the Devils’ fault and they all deserved to die. Tachibana was their respected and dearly departed leader who died saving his son at Tokyo Tower! Why were the guardians of Japan being held accountable for a war that the Devils began?

On the way home from shopping, Yoko was researching the Meiji Restoration when a bullet shattered the window. Despite there being a clear blue sky and it was broad daylight, there was no evidence to be found regarding who fired that bullet. It was a warning shot. Only someone who was very high up in the Hydra rankings could have known where she was at that moment. The next bullet probably would not miss.

Yoko slipped on her shoes at the door and checked her phone one more time before stepping out into the hall of the Genji Heavy Industries building.

Caesar had still not texted her back.

#Dragon Raja #Justice AU

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songtoyou · 4 years

Text

Mr. Evans and the Congresswoman - Part 2

Paring: Chris Evans x Politician Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,858

Warnings: Political topics such as Biden, Harris, our current White House occupant and the current administration.

Description: It is the week of the DNC and Chris is once again interviewing you for A Starting Point.

A/N: The DNC inspired me to write a second part for this story. This is pure fiction as I do not know what Chris believes when it comes to politics and policy issues. This is a complete work of fiction.

I do not permit my work to be to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Note: Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

"Hi, Congresswoman Y/L/N?" Chris Evans asked with a smile.

He was once again interviewing you for ASP. This time it was during the week of the Democratic National Convention. Chris and Mark had already talked to other politicians such as Senator Cory Booker and Representatives Ro Khanna and Alma Adams. You were the last elected official he was slated to interview to wrap up the DNC week.

Truthfully, Chris was happy to get the chance to talk with you again. Your previous interview for ASP was such a hit that it garnered a lot of attention from fans and the media. However, it was not because you helped bring more legitimacy and attention for ASP, but instead, Chris found himself genuinely admiring you.

"Hi," you said to Chris, giving a small wave through the Zoom screen. "I told you to call me by my first name."

"I know, but I still want to show respect," Chris responded with a teasing smile. Was he mildly flirting with the congresswoman? Yes, but he had no shame in doing so. "How are you? You are looking well."

"I am doing well. Thank you. How about you?"

"Same. Just trying to stay sane through everything. I'm actually currently in London. Working on a project." Chris admitted.

"Uh oh. You better be staying safe and following the right procedures and protocols," you lightly reprimanded him.

"My fans ratted me out. They found where I was just by the hotel door. Can you believe that? That is some FBI-level investigating, right there. I'd be impressed if I weren't also terrified of the lengths some of these fans will go to scout my location," Chris ranted. He did not understand why he was sharing this with you, but a part of him felt comfortable doing so.

"That…is quite impressive, I must say. Creepy. Scary. But impressive. You need to learn how to put in a Zoom background. It would solve all of your problems," you suggested to him.

"I would, but I'm technology deficient. Maybe I should look up some Zoom tutorials on how to do it. Give it a try."

"There is no try…only do," you advised cheekily.

"Now you're quoting Yoda. A woman after my own heart," Chris replied. He knew he needed to refocus. "So, as you can tell, Mark won't be joining us for this interview. I'm going to hit record if that is okay?"

"Okay. I'm ready when you are," you said.

When the record notification appeared on screen, Chris introduced you and immediately went into the first question.

"How do you think the DNC is going so far, particularly how this year is more of a virtual setting rather than in-person due to COVID-19?"

"Despite not having the big in-person celebration/gathering, I think the virtual setting is working very well. Better than I expected, actually. It gives off a more inclusive and intimate vibe to the DNC that we haven't felt before. I like the whole documentary approach and feel to it," you replied honestly.

"Were you excited that Joe Biden chose Senator Kamala Harris as his running mate?" asked Chris.

"Oh my God! I was so happy that Vice President Biden chose Senator Harris as his running mate. Like, my staff and I were beyond ecstatic. There is no one better to be Biden's running mate than Harris. She is amazing. Such an inspiration. I'm not going to lie, but I'm really excited for the debate between her and Pence."

That made Chris laugh. "Yeah, me too. Senator Harris really knows how to pull all the punches. Her nomination as VP has been met with overall positive response. The Trump Administration and Republican pundits appear to have a hard time painting a negative image of Harris. Why do you think Trump and Fox News are struggling to provide a negative image for her?"

"That is an excellent question. The public's overwhelming response to Harris' nomination is because 1.) she is the first black and south Asian woman to be on a major presidential ticket, and 2.) she is likable and charming. She has this exuberant energy that attracts people to her. You know, black and brown women and girls finally have someone that looks like them running for the second-highest office in the land. That is huge!

"I also have to wonder if people have smartened up in the last four years and won't tolerate the…hypocrisy, sexism, and misogyny…in this case misogynoir that is thrown towards Senator Harris from the media, political pundits, social media bots, etc. So, what we are seeing with Trump and Fox News struggling to attack her is because…well…they just aren't smart. All we have seen from Trump in his attacks against her is that she was mean to Kavanaugh when questioning him during his nomination process. But none of what Trump says holds up because we all know that smart, confident women intimidate him," you finished off your point.

"There is also the left…or more of the progressive left who are unhappy with Biden choosing Harris," Chris spoke up and continued, "They say she is a cop and put people away for weed. That she took kids away from parents when the kid didn't show up for school. That Harris is too conservative. What do you say to that?"

"All of that is…you know…. Senator Harris one of the most policy progressive senators we have. Her voting record is more progressive than Bernie Sanders. All people have to do is research her time as a district attorney and Attorney General for California to find out what she actually did concerning policy. But as we both know, people nowadays don't know how to critically think, which scares me. Progressives need to look at the overall big picture. This election in November is crucial. We are in the fight for our democracy, for our country, and for our lives…literally."

"I talk with my brother, Scott, all the time about certain political issues," mentioned Chris. "He is a tad more progressive than I am. I can admit that I tend to be more centrist. The district you represent is a mix of blue and red areas; how do you balance opposing views from your constituents?"

You took in a deep breath before you answered. That was a loaded question. Representing a district that was not solely red, or blue could be difficult from time to time. You wanted to be respectful of the different viewpoints from constituents, but maintaining a neutral balance was hard and frustrating at times.

"The majority of Americans are centrist/moderates. You need a balance of both liberal and conservative policies. Bipartisanship is crucially important when developing and passing laws. We are currently seeing an overt of one-sidedness while sabotaging the other side, which is detrimental to our country's growth. It is important to reach across the aisle to talk with those who may have opposing views than you. At the end of the day, people just want to feel that their concerns are heard and valued. We all want to feel that way. So, as an elected official, I make sure to take the time to talk with those in rural areas, along with urban areas, about their issues and concerns," you shared.

"Do you ever get any pushback from Trump supporters in the red areas?" Chris inquired.

"Well, it is important to note that not all residents in rural areas are Trump supporters. They just tend to keep that to themselves. I have actually talked to Trump supporters in blue areas. We can never and should never assume that one area has this type of person and vice versa. I learned that the hard way when I was campaigning for city council early in my career," you revealed to Chris with a small chuckle. "But overall, my constituents will talk with me and have been respectful. Some of the concerns that have been shared with me do fall under the QAnon conspiracy theories, which do disturb me, I'll be honest. Um…when being confronted with someone who has that extreme of ideals, it is important to remain calm and not to come off combative. Meaning that I have to remind myself that I am not quite dealing with a rational person. The only thing that I can do is calmly talk to the person and respond back with facts. Either they listen or brush me off and call me a radical lefty."

"The majority of people are good, like you said," Chris reminded you.

"That's right. It's a good mantra to live by. I think the American people are tired and have been tired for the past four years with this Administration. We need a sense of normalcy and decency. Compassion and empathy, which were two of the big themes during the DNC. This week was a nice reminder that we, as a country, can have that again."

"I agree. Very well said. You always end on a positive. I appreciate that. Thank you, Congresswoman Y/L/N, for taking the time to talk with me. You always provide great insight into the world of politics and your experience as an elected official," said Chris and ended the recording. "That was really great, Y/N. I know Mark, and I really appreciate you taken the time to do these interviews for ASP," Chris added.

"Oh, it is no problem. Like I said before, I like what you both are doing with the site. Are you happy with how everything turned out?" you asked him.

"Yeah… it's…it took a while to just get the website up and running. I know there is still work that needs to be done. Some areas need to be fixed, but with a project like this, we can adjust. There is more room for improvement and growth," Chris communicated to you.

You nodded in agreement. "Politics is a whole different ballgame. Not many people are willing to venture into the field. It can cause a lot of annoyances and headaches. So, hats off to you, my friend," you said, giving Chris a salute.

"Thank you. Well, I better let you go. I know you must have a million things on your plate."

"Ah yes, I have to go and save the United States Postal Service from corruption. Talk to you later, Chris. Take care," you waved goodbye and signed off.

Chris had to admit, he was in awe of you. There was something about you that fascinated him. None of the elected officials he and Mark talked to for ASP had the liveliness you had. You were not jaded or defeated by the system, at least not yet, since you were still considered a junior member of congress. Chris hoped that the energy and enthusiasm you had for politics and helping people would not diminish. When his Uncle Mike was still a congressman, he shared with Chris that D.C. can cause a lot of strain on a person's values and beliefs. "I have seen too many of my colleagues succumb to the pressures of dirty politics," Uncle Mike once said.

Chris just hoped that you would not succumb to those pressures.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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lazysleepyheart · 3 years

Text

As I unpack

If Chineseness is a discourse, it must be spoken by someone to have any meaning for our time. The question, as such, is “Who speaks?” We must speak for Chineseness or allow it to be spoken for. In other words, ideology is not democratic. To be silent is to be ventriloquized.

- Chan Kwok Bun

I am Chinese. In truth, I had trouble writing that. I backspaced a few times and tried taking up less space…“I’m actually half-Chinese”. But whether I am half or whole, I still am. Not everyone knows this about me, I pass as white on most days. And if people do know this about me, they soon forget it. I gatekeep my own identity for myself. In the past year of hearing of violence against Asians, I felt lucky to be so ethnically ambiguous. And for this, I feel immense guilt. On top of this guilt, I am feeling so many other things. The baggage I bring to this discussion is heavy. I don’t talk about it much and the layers of why are deep.

As I unpack this baggage of why I feel so guilty, six Asian women are murdered in Atlanta. I am heartbroken and I feel a deep ache of sadness in my bones. Just as this happens, my timeline is flooded with online public support and sadness, a sudden social outcry against racism toward Asians. I understand why you do it. I understand why you post the story, share the news, sign the petitions, I really do. I’ve been there and I’ve done that. It’s important. It’s valuable to cast a light on the shadows of life so that maybe they’re a bit less dark. At the same time, I am confused. On my journey to be a better ally, I’ve done this. I’ve posted the stories, shared the news, and signed the petitions, but I also do the work. I reach out and lend an ear or shoulder to those in need as best I can. And if I haven’t done that for you, I’m sorry. If I haven’t done that for you, it could be that I just didn’t have the capacity to be there for anyone, let alone myself. Right now, I can’t help but think Are you reaching out to your Asian friends asking how they’re doing? Maybe your answer is no, and to that, I ask Why not? Why do you post solidarity but practice the opposite? Maybe your answer is yes, and to that, I ask… Why not me?

As I unpack more, I realize I have repressed my Asian culture for a multitude of reasons. Out of choice, personal protection, safety, embarrassment, compulsion, fear. I also realize that I was born into a lot of that repression. My father is Chinese, born and raised in Hong Kong. His life hasn’t been easy but I wouldn’t really know how or why because I barely know him. He left before I was born. Since then, I’ve met him maybe once a year (at most), almost always at a Chinese restaurant, and it’s always a bit tense. There’s a lot of sadness in his life and that’s not my story to tell, but the conversation inevitably turns sad and I end up telling him it’s okay that he left. I’m fine. I grew up alright. But the truth is, I’m not. Of course, I cherish and adore the relationship I have with my mom. She acted as mom and dad at the best and worst of times. Does that mean I can’t long for something I never had? Does that mean I don’t deal with feelings of abandonment?

As I unpack more, I realize I was fine for so long because it was easier to be fine. As I age and consider my own mortality and that of my parents, I realize there is a hole inside me, a hole in my wholeness that I can’t name or claim.

As I unpack more, I realize why I don’t wear my Chineseness with pride. To give weight to my Chineseness would also give equal weight to my abandonment. As I grapple with the news and my identity in all of this, I recall times of telling people that I’m half-Chinese and them asking if I speak the language. Of course I don’t, but to admit that would always lead to the question of Why not? Because my dad left me before I was born. And so they get two traumas for the price of one.

As I unpack more, I wonder why I feel so sad. I think of all the times I’ve been told I’m not that Asian or a bad Asian. So do I really have the right to feel such sadness in my bones for Asian women? Am I even one? There’s a lot of guilt inside of me these days. I feel guilty for not being Chinese enough. I feel guilty that I’m able to shapeshift and I’ll never have to experience the trauma and tragedies of other Asian women. I feel guilty for resenting my Whiteness. I feel guilty for repressing my Chineseness. It’s a vicious cycle I can’t seem to escape right now.

As I unpack more, I realize I can try and do the work on my own. I’m writing a research paper on Chinese food traditions but as I research and read and pore over the unending resources, I realize there are centuries of culture I’ll never know. I’ll never scratch the surface. I’ll never understand the nuances of Chinese family structures from the inside, only as an outsider… because I don’t have a Chinese family. I can only be the researcher in my own life and that breaks my heart and makes me want to go back to repressing it all over again… just to be fine. And then I feel guilty all over again.

I thought I knew who I was. It turns out at thirty-one I know less than ever before. This internal crisis is met with the feeling of loneliness. The loneliness of having sequestered my Chineseness so far away that no one even sees me. I feel sad for my Asians right now. I know how you fear for your titas, your aunties, and your nai nais because I do too. I see the Asian community standing together and supporting each other and I’m on the other side of the fence waiting for someone to ask me to come over. I long to be seen as Asian in a time like this. I long to be asked how I’m holding up with all of this. Because the truth is, not great.

As I unpack more, I realize a lot of my sadness comes from a mourning of my past as much as a mourning of my future. I’ll never know the joys of Chinese childhood traditions and I’ll never be able to share them with my children. It’s as though I’ll forever live with a ghost of myself constantly reminding me of what I’ve lost.

Lately, I’ve been avoiding asking people how they are, mostly because I’m not prepared to answer the same question volleyed back. In short, this is why. I’m unsure of who I am, let alone how I am. Let this be the answer. This unabashed proclamation of identity is simultaneously an interrogation of self. The loss of identity as a mixed-race person is further entrenched with the loss of that physical tie to my genetic history. Much of what I shared here are firsts for me and they’re still in works in progress. I can’t seem to get everything in my head on paper but every time I edit and re-write and edit again, I cry a little less.

Somehow in all of this, I am tempted to apologize. To tell you that this isn’t a cry for help, a bid for attention, a guilt trip. Saying this out loud is the only way for me to start coping with this. All of this guilt and fear of fitting in has kept me from recognizing my own feelings of placelessness. It will take years to fully unpack that. Even though the shares on my timeline have slowed down and you’ve moved on to the next big thing, the story isn’t over. These are not easy topics to grasp as they flip on their head with each new day. So if you ask me…this is how I am.

Originally published on www.wippwellness.com/as-i-unpack April 22, 2021

#chinese #identity #biracial #vulnerability

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amberlarks · 4 years

Text

“Half”, 2019-2021, oil on canvas, 48”x 60”. It’s about growing up half Asian in America. Art is about wearing your heart on your sleeve and I have a lot to share about this one. It would really mean a lot to me if you read the story behind it. I reflect on the current events of the past week and past year. It feels very vulnerable sharing all of this, but I also know how important it is to share. This is one of the most important and personal paintings I’ve made in my life and I’m so happy I finally finished it. Thank you for your support, your inspiration, and for listening❤️

Growing Up Half Asian in America: A Reflection on Identity and Racism

By Amber Larks

I finally found my words. Day 1 I had no words, only grief. Day 2 I was furious with rage. And now I feel a sense of healing. Grieving together and supporting each other even just virtually has been so healing. And it inspired me to finish a painting I started sketches for in 2019. I’m not sure what strange force or feeling came over me to put it down and not pick it up until now, but I think it was meant to be.

These two years have been huge for talks about race and I’ve learned so much. I think my painting was finally ready to be completed because of how much I’ve experienced and learned and because of that, found my voice and identity in this movement.

This painting was art therapy for me and I know a lot of people will connect with it. I had been struggling for so long on my thoughts on current events because I am half. Half Chinese and half white. Somehow, I always feel my thoughts or feelings aren’t valid because “I don’t know what it’s really like to be Asian”. I have always struggled with imposter syndrome because I’m half. I constantly straddle two worlds. But being Chinese is who I am, it’s half of me. I was gaslighting myself wondering if my grief was valid. Thoughts like: “You’re not really Asian so stop playing the victim here”, “People will think you’re just a white girl trying to look woke” and “You should be sad, yes, but grieving like you knew them? That doesn’t make sense”. How fucked up is that?

But this is what being half is like. You feel like an imposter even though it is 100% genuinely part of your identity. And I honestly think this is where a lot of my social anxiety comes from because I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere. But being half is also a beautiful blessing where I’ve cultivated a deep understanding and practice of empathy.

Being half, you experience direct racism but more often racism in the form of people being racist in front of you not knowing they are in front of an Asian person. My first memory of racism is being in second grade and two white boys in my class pulling their eyelids up and down taunting “Chinese” “Japanese” “Chinese” “Japanese”. I will always remember it and the feeling I felt.

And Seattle, my city, as much as a beautiful, progressive haven that we are, we blindly participate in passive aggressive racism. I can’t tell you how many times people have complained to me about “Asian tourists” as if they are not human, but instead an inconvenience to your white city. As if they are not people who have worked hard and saved for years to take their family on vacation, land in a foreign city with a foreign language only to be scoffed at and not welcomed. Where is our empathy there? Where is our humanity? So much of racism is not seeing others as human which makes it easy to be so cruel. The dehumanization of minorities is pure cruelness.

Maybe we don’t do things like you, look like you, or talk like you, but that doesn’t make us lesser. We have feelings. We feel pain. We have depth. We’re smart. We can read between the lines. We know when we are not welcome and it hurts. We know when we are being ridiculed and it hurts. We know Hollywood only sees us as objects and it hurts. We see our brothers and sisters getting murdered and it hurts.

Growing up half taught me to hide my Asian side because from age 5 I deemed it unsafe to show in fear of being bullied. As I grew up, I continued to hide in fear of being disrespected, stereotyped, harassed, and sexualized. That last one is huge for Asian women and disturbs me to my core. I hope I never hear the phrase “Asian persuasion” again or “exotic” like we are some seductive fetishized foreign object rather than individuals.

Also mixed kids need to be normalized. Being mixed is becoming more common now thankfully but growing up in the 90s and early 2000s, I had people ask me if I was adopted, if my mom was my nanny, or “what am I?” and “Where are you from?” This is so alienating. And we’re still at a point where we’re being fetishized because of “how exotic we look”. Please take a moment to understand why these are issues.

It’s only within the last few years that I’ve gotten more comfortable sharing my identity as the world becomes more accepting of different cultures. Although current events show why I’m still weary with sharing my identity with people I don’t know.

And yes, I am privileged in many ways to be white passing because I have the option to blend in easier. I have realized this year more than ever just how privileged I am and oblivious I was. But I also feel the weight of pain our communities feel. And grief is grief. Struggles are struggles. Pain is pain. We need solidarity to move forward.

So I’ve been really touched the past 24 hours how much support and outcry there has been. My boyfriend (also half Asian) and I were saying how it’s actually weird seeing all this Asian stuff. I had to do a double take at what was happening- to see so many people talking about it. We’ve always just dealt with it and somehow society made us feel that’s just how it was. We were used to it. We learned to expect it. You learned to deal with it. And you don’t complain. “People have it harder” “We’re lucky to be where we are”. Silent strength. And silent suffering.

I think of my grandma and her strength. And how she never complained. And it breaks my heart to think of the things she must have endured throughout her life. She was my hero. So strong and so quirky and so herself. And I think of how all of that is in my mom and my sister and I. Being Chinese to me is to be resilient. My people have been through so much yet we’re taught to keep our heads down, work hard, and not complain.

So it really warms my heart seeing so many people speaking out about this and supporting us right now. It’s really moving to see how much positive support can help heal a hurting community. Just seeing people speak up is healing in itself. That people are listening and our problems are actually real. That we’re not overreacting. Victims normally don’t see themselves as victims if they’ve been manipulated to think their pain is normal.

That’s how it’s been for Asian people. (model minority myth at play here). And this is the problem with the model minority myth: It is crafted out of white supremacy to preach “congratulations you should be proud you climbed your way out of poverty. Not like those other folks. Look at the bright side. Forget the rest. Forget the torment we put you through. Forget the past. Aren’t you so glad to be you, a model citizen, a respectable citizen” when in reality it is giving a false sense of security and false praise in a society that is still so very hostile towards you. It delegitimizes our pain and manipulatively puts us against other minorities. It “deems” us closer to white even though that’s not true at all. It’s not a scale of white to black and everything in between. We are all unique cultures and something we just happen to have in common is that we are all not white. We all know what it’s like to be the minority. And we have strength in solidarity.

This has been a moment of clarity for me for my identity. I grieved and I’m still grieving for those lost and their families. Because they could have been me. They could have been my own loved ones.

Empathy can create so much change and healing. So please, when a community calls out for help, please return the call. Picture yourself in their shoes. For them to endure so much pain to finally reach the breaking point of calling out for help- it means it’s serious.

This past year has shown how much white supremacy upholds our society. It really does permeate every major artery, crack and corner of this place. It’s also shown how easily it’s tolerated. Excuse after excuse is made to uphold it and it’s time for that to stop. Thank you thank you thank you to everyone being vocal about this, everyone who is evaluating how their thoughts, words, jokes, or actions could be part of the problem(it’s not your fault, it’s the society we grew up in), and to everyone who reached out. Thank you.

I feel like a weight has been lifted finishing this painting and at the same time I am finding peace with my identity. Being Asian is having an unspoken bond with other Asians because you’ve all been through similar struggles. You are brothers and sisters in solidarity. And that’s what I love about the Asian community. We have an unshakable strength in each other. But recently our community has been violently rocked and traumatized seeing our brothers and sisters murdered and abused. It takes a toll on a community. It’s a collective grieving we are going through. So thank you to everyone returning our call for help. Thank you for listening. And thank you for your love. We will heal but we will need everyone’s help to get rid of white supremacy, racism, and domestic terrorism. And until then we will continue to stand in solidarity with all communities fighting for the same cause✊

I ask of everyone reading this:

Please try and use a lens of empathy to understand why marginalized communities are marginalized as well as their history and struggles.

Please take the time to reflect in the moment if your everyday actions, words, and thoughts perpetuate stereotypes and racism. I’ve caught myself many times. It’s in all of us because we live in a toxic society built on white supremacy. But that’s where the progress comes- when you address it and try and fix it.

Please vote and support leaders who are anti racist. Who work to uplift all communities. Voting and activism works. Rhetoric matters. And politics is not just an old man’s game anymore.

Show solidarity. It means you care.

Have empathy. Do your part to make the world a better place- not just for yourself and the people you care about, but for every human being. The light in me honors the light in you❤️

#asian american #stopasianviolence #stopasianhate #half asian #half Chinese #half kids #mixed kids #racism #racism in America #solidarity #minority #Chinese American

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thisselflovecamebacktome · 4 years

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All my thoughts surrounding the Evermore album so far

For the first time in forever, I went into an album refusing to write down any notes or whatever about how I felt upon the first listen and really just let it sink in. Even when ranking the songs, I did it by gut feeling and refused to elaborate. But being over 24 hours and a dozen listens in and basically having the same opinions and thoughts, I felt it was time to put out everything I feel so far.

Basically this post is going to go over not only my thoughts on and relationship to the songs of Evermore, but how I feel about it as an album and specifically a sister album to Folklore. So I hope you enjoy it.

What I think of Evermore as a whole/it’s relationship with Folklore:

Truth be told Evermore is currently quite low on my Taylor album rankings. This isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it and definitely is not me saying I didn’t like any of the songs. But the environment of an album and ability to get something out of listening to the songs all together and in order that you could not otherwise get is important to me to the point it’s my favourite thing about listening to albums. And right now? Outside of Tis The Damn Season and Dorothea, it’s just not there for me. In many ways, that has made Evermore very similar to Speak Now and Lover vibe wise to me in that it feels like an array of great songs as opposed to a perfect album experience like RED, Reputation and even Fearless feels to me. So while I could absolutely see myself listening to most of the songs on this album for years to come, I’ve already found myself listening to the album itself out of order and focusing on my favourite tracks more.

I would also argue that the only reason Evermore is a ‘sister album’ to Folklore is because it’s by Taylor Swift. And that may sound weird, but hear me out. The fact of the matter is that the only ways in which this album and Folklore are more ‘sisterly’ towards each other than other albums is because they are similar production wise and both are at least partially based on the stories of others. I could name you an array of artists whose albums share these same qualities yet are not seen as sibling albums. And honestly, right now it feels like the only reason these two albums are being seen as sisters is because they have come from someone who has been expected to change sounds, vibes and everything else every ‘era’ because she has admitted in the past that she has a fear of people getting sick of her. In my honest opinion, Reputation and Lover feel more like sister albums to me than Folklore and Evermore. This is not to say that Evermore is a lesser album for not being a sister project to Folklore, it’s just not something a connection I’m feeling right now.

What I’m about to say next may sound like it contradicts with what I just said but as it is a personal connection and not objective, I feel like it doesn’t. For me personally, Folklore was predominately an album that opened up and described my trauma relating to losing my whole family while Evermore feels more like a recovery album. So on a personal level, they are other sides of the same coin and while that makes them sister albums to an extent, to me it was not the extent Taylor meant because obviously these songs were not written with me and my personal issues in mind.

With that in mind, if we’re going to compare Folklore and Evermore like many people have, I feel as if Folklore is the stronger album but Evermore has stronger songs. Basically as a full experience I prefer Folklore, but the songs I like off of Evermore I love more than the ones I like off of Folklore. At this point, I will also say I think I love the production of Evermore more than Folklore, but I can also see that being a mood based thing.

What I think of each individual song:

Willow: I’m going to be honest, I do not see the hype for this song. Like objectively it’s not a bad song, but there’s just not really anything drawing me back to it. While clever, the 90s line also threw me off a bit and feels kinda out of place with the rest of the song giving ancient/mythical vibes to be honest. It seems to be a hot take at the moment, but I also found myself bored with the music video and didn’t seem to love the fact that it is a continuation of Cardigan as much as everyone else. I did however appreciate the love interest being from an Asian background during a time when they are on the receiving end of racial villification. I will say I think the first chorus is the strongest part of the song.

Champagne Problems: I feel like this is going to be the song that is most consistently among my favourites for this album. While most of my other favourites are the deep cuts or bops that I need to be in the right mood for, Champagne Problems feels like a good mix that I can listen to any time. It’s also kinda been a blessing for me because the man I love told me upon listening to it that my fear of marriage and actions around that lately have made him worry that we’re going to end up like that which has really made me reflect today on the fact that my fear of not being good enough to keep him isn’t going to be fixed by holding him at arm’s length, it can only be fixed by working to be the better person I think he deserves. In terms of Taylor, I’ve heard some of you think that Tom proposed while they were together and that the ring in the LWYMMD video is actually reference to him and I’mma be real, if that’s the case, damn right she should have said no because they were together what, 2 or so months??? In saying that, as a general sister piece to Getaway Car in that they’re both about realising you don’t love the person you’re with as much as they love you, it’s a nice comparison and I could see it.

Gold Rush: Taylor girl, please go to therapy about not feeling good enough for your man and insecurities that he’s gonna leave you for someone else. You are absolutely good enough. Honestly, all up I feel like this song is the definition of good. It’s not something I’d seek out to listen to but it’s not something I’d skip if it came on. The production is definitely the highlight of the song for me.

Tis The Damn Season: This song really hits hard for someone still living in her childhood house in her hometown huh? I’ve seen a lot of people relate this song back to The 1, and to be honest, they both remind me of the same platonic relationship I once had and things I wish we had said to each other, so I can see that. Look in all honesty, this is just one of those songs where I cannot pinpoint what makes it so good because it’s everything. The production, the lyrics, the emotion; it all works together to make it an amazing song. When considering the album as a whole, I think Tis The Damn Season and Dorothea are the strongest sign of creating an environment and emotion given that they are songs about the same relationship.

Tolerate It: I get why this is track five, and much like Mirrorball off of Folklore, had it come out in 2018 or beforehand, it would have owned my soul and been my favourite song off of this album forever. But nearly everyone who has ever made me feel this way was purged out of my life no later than 2018 so I feel so far removed from it. While I understand the artistic choice for the second half of the song to be wordy and faster paced to the point of feeling offbeat because that’s how it comes off when you’re thinking of all the ways you can defend yourself and/or leave, I personally prefer the first half of the song far more than the second half due to its flow. Had I enjoyed the second half as much as the first, I think this would have been a tied favourite from the album. I’ve seen Swifties say this is a Tayvin and/or John/Taylor song and yeah to be honest, I feel that. I also love the intepretations surrounding it being a queer person and a queerphobic family member.

No Body No Crime: Upon first listen, this was an automatic tied favourite of mine. But, while I’ll still say it is, listening to it on repeat today made me feel like it’s something I need to listen to sparingly or it’ll get overplayed fast, much like Betty did on Folklore for me personally. This is another song I really don’t have much to say about because I love it all and it’s a bop. As a more general note, I will say that I agree with people that I wish Taylor’s vocal collaborations with women included them actually having a verse rather than feeling like backup singers for Taylor. But for what we got, I think Haim added a lot to this song with their ‘He did it’ sounding like Este’s ghost reassuring Taylor he killed her and Danielle’s ‘she was with me dude’ adding a lot of atmosphere to the song. In my mind, Este’s husband wasn’t planning to leave/kill her or move his mistress in but accidentally killed Este as she tried to leave him. Either way though, it’s a great song and I can definitely see why it’s a fan favourite.

Happiness: This was my other tied favourite upon my first listen. When thinking of Taylor, I tend to agree with people that this song is probably about Scott and recoving from leaving Big Machine. When considering what it means to me... well it’s complicated. Truly, I want to reach a point where this is what I think of my family. I hope someday I can get there. But for now, it is another self love song; as if I am talking to my pre and/or newly traumatised teenaged self at age 25. This probably sounds weird but I also love that it’s my favourite while being the longest track (so far, obviously we don’t know about bonus tracks) of the album because there’s something so special to me about Taylor’s longer tracks.

Dorothea: A cute song. That’s really all I can say. Again, I love it’s connection with Tis The Damn Season and it makes me smile thinking about that platonic relationship these songs remind me of. Really just in general this song makes me happy and is probably the one I could see myself randomly singing around the house the most.

Coney Island: Honestly I like the idea/message behind this song more than I like the song itself. Like the idea of not appreciating something until its too late reasonates with me and again, is something I wish the ex friend Dorothea reminds me of would tell me they feel, but obviously I cannot change that. I’ve seen posts about how the bridge of this song was inspired by John, Jake, Harry and Calvin, but to be honest, in general this song feels very purely Tayvin to me, but like from Calvin’s (or at least what Taylor hopes is his) point of view. All up, I think the production of this song is its strong point and the reason that while it’s still not one of my favourites, it’s somewhat grown on me.

Ivy: Another hot take? This is another song that I just haven’t been able to get into. Like I like the idea that it’s the ‘tough’ parts of Invisible String where you have to take the leaps not knowing where you’ll end up, but yeah, I don’t know, it just wasn’t something that has caught my attention yet.

Cowboy Like Me: This song is a vibe. Like it’s the type of song I could see myself putting on while just wanting to chill or do something else at the same time, but I don’t feel like it’s something I’m going to opt to listen to on its own that much. Basically it’s as middle of the road track for me as they come. I will say however that ‘Now you hang off my lips like the gardens of Babylon’ has lived in my mind rent free all day.

Long Story Short: This song is so fun. I love that barring Folklore, I could see it being on any of Taylor’s albums since Fearless. It also reminds me of another non-Taylor song, but I can’t think of what and that has been bugging me all day. I saw a lot of people saying that they’re over Taylor talking about 2016, and personally while it’s not my favourite topic either, she’s free to write about whatever she wants and honestly? I feel like her more upbeat, funner sounding songs like this one have boded better with me when she first releases them ever since Lover so I’m glad she released it. Anyway, like I said, it’s another cute fun song that I can see myself dancing to in my room for a while yet and that makes me so happy.

Majorie: I’m gonna be honest, I feel like this is a song you have to relate to to love, and I do not relate to it. Like I think had my family shit not gone down, I would have cried to this thinking of my recently deceased grandfather because I felt the closest to him out of any family member as a kid, but yeah, that’s not how things are now and so I don’t have the emotional attachment to this song. I can however see myself getting it when my mother dies to be honest. But for now, it’s a sweet song and I get why people love it.

Closure: Remember how I said Happiness is how I wish I felt about my family? Closure is how I actually feel about them. To be honest, the fact that everyone seems to have this as their least favourite song from the album shocks me because I think it’s one of the most relatable. I’m also surprised so many of you feel like this is about Karlie given the sounds at the beginning and end sound like (Big) Machines and the second verse and bridge scream Scott to me. All up, I genuinely really like this song and feel like it’s the one with the most experimentation that works for the track despite the lyrical simplicity to be honest.

Evermore: Lyrically, this is my favourite track from the album. Production wise? ... well Taylor’s part is amazing. This is another song where artistically I appreciate how jaggered Justin’s voice makes the song because it works contextually at that part, but it’s a bit much for me in terms of wanting to have the song on repeat. Though it wouldn’t have had the same jaggered hence artistic feel, I do wish Justin had used his lower register because I feel like it would have suited the replayability of the song more. Regardless, it is another self recovery/reflection song for me and definitely one of my favourite (and perhaps the most socially relevant given how 2020 was for most people) closers from Taylor... though she always knocks those out of the park.

Final Thoughts:

Though not being my favourite overall album from Taylor, Evermore is a solid album with amazing songs. It is also an album I can see being a grower and/or mood based album. So with two songs still coming, I’m not about to rule it out as being something I won’t love more in the future. This is especially the when I know that even if I don’t get the environment I usually love from it, Evermore has so many amazing songs I can see myself listening to for years to come.

#taylor swift #evermore album

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