#i also really hope that they make a group with lots of overlap in races this campaign

[sweetescapeartist]

[Sorry in advance if this gets too long]

After your post about Sonic Frontiers, and especially after reading your favourite character is also Tails, now I'm curious about the rest of your "Sonic opinions". Have you considered posting more of your thoughts on the Sonic series as a whole? Not necessarily multiple posts, it could be just one post with a compilation.

Regarding Tails's role in the series, there have been a few debates for a while after most Sonic fans' disappointment at his role in Sonic Forces. The big problem is that there seems to be quite some overlap between "badass Tails" fans and those Gohan fans who think he was ruined during the Majin Buu saga (the Dragon Ball fandom's endemic toxic masculinity is also added to the mix), while other fans genuinely believe Tails is more compelling when he only fights through gadgets at most and strictly stays an underdog as the story focuses more on his friendship with Sonic and Tails being raised by him. I wrote a post with my thoughts on that debate the night before the Sonic 2 movie was released [https://mashounen2003.tumblr.com/post/678734119366213632]. This is indeed a very complicated topic, with both sides being a bit hypocritical sometimes.

On an unrelated note (sort of), I've been working on a summary of ideas for a Sonic fanfic... although I barely progressed on it this year; also, I must warn you it's not set in the videogames' universe but in the SatAM cartoon's universe with elements from the Archie comics, and the SatAM & Archie continuity isn't everyone's cup of tea. Anyway... Both your Dragon Ball posts and those of DBMeta inspired me for many things I already added to my story or I'm planning to add in later chapters. Sonic does take a lot from DBZ after all, so why not fully embrace that heritage while also applying those analyses of yours in order to provide a refreshing experience instead of the average crossover fanfic?

And that's it for now, I guess. I hope you're doing well, and feel free to answer whenever you can.

(You're okay. I'll try to keep my answer short since I am often ling winded.)

Spoiler warning... I didn't keep it short. 😅

I haven't really considered posting my thoughts on Sonic stuff because I don't really care for the series after Sonic Unleashed in 2008, then 2009 when Jason Griffith & the other Sonic voice actors were recasted. Sonic & All Stars Racing Transformed & Sonic Mania were fun tho. Sometimes read the IDW comics too. Mainly after Sonic Unleashed, the series lost its charm for me. But I will keep it in mind to make a post(s) of my thoughts about the series.

Thats another thing... Making Tails and other not playable limits the storytelling. They cant be involved much in the story besides being a charafter Sonic bounces dialogue off of and has to save. These characters could save themselves. Heck! They have saved Sonic! Tails has done so multiple times. From the classic games to the Adventure games, Heroes, 06, spin off games, ect.

As for the "badass Tails" that some fans see? I don't see that and never saw that. That's an exaggeration. Tails was never a "badass." Tails falls under a different category of cool. Here's the thing about Tails that differs from Gohan; Gohan didn't want to become a fighter, Tails wanted to go on adventures. And furthermore, Tails originated as a high-speed adventurer & combatant of sorts. Sonic was fine how he was, but Tails needed something to make him stand out more. Later, to make him more unique, Tails was made into the brains of the group ALONG WITH his adventurous & combat experience. So we have Tails originate as a fighter, then become the tech-fighter who would often go on his own adventures when Sonic was on his. So thats one point I think we disagree on. I do not see Tails as a nerd Sonic. Imo, thats similar to saying Knuckles is a strong Sonic. These characters are unique enough and have their own personalities that they are not clones of Sonic. Tails being similar to Sonic is fine because brothers often share similarities. But they are still very different in tsrms of personality and gameplay.

The new stuff from 2010 to present that was written by Pontac & Graff is bad. It made Sonic, Tails, & Knuckles behave more like the Babylon Rogues than themselves. Th games of the 2010's stripped Tails of what was always an established part of his character and only left the "gadgets guy" part of his character. That's like taking away Knuckles strength or Sonic's speed. And they did so just to have tails sit on the sideline. This was because SEGA heard criticisms from critics and some fans that they hate "Sonic's stupid friends." so SEGA stupidly sabotaged their own characters. So how should Tails be? Like he was in Adventure 2, Heroes, the Sonic Advanced games, Riders & Zero Gravity, Sonic 06, Sonic Unleashed. Tails was not always playable but he was going on adventures of his own and just happened to meet up with Sonic sometimes. And he may have been scared of what are basically demons in Sonic Unleashed, but he fought Eggman robots right along with Sonic during the flying stages. And in the meantime he was gathering intel or actively helping Sonic when he was playable. They took away a critial part of Tails' character and that is just dumb. Sonic Movie 2 understands Tails much better. (Which is why Sonic Team is trying to make Tails like that now, which is simply who Tails was in the 2000's. In Frontiers, Sonic says to Tails that he is fast like him.and smart like Eggman. The games of the 2010's took the speed and aventure away from Tails and left him with only brains. The Sonic Movie 2 captures both his speed and intelligence. Sonic Team has lost their way and are now relying on a movie to correct their own characters...)

The love that Sonic Team had back in the day is gone. Its saddening. The characters were awesome back then! They were inspirational and relatable. I feel that things started going further south after Yuji Naka left and SEGA made Sonic Team release games before they were ready just to have a holiday release, & kept splitting up the team for stupid reasons.

Even with Frontiers, I felt that Sonic Team is trying to copy what made the recent Sonic The Hedgehog Movies so great. The Sonic Movies looked to Sonic's past in order to make an enjoyable movie for the fans. Why can't Sonic Team do that? Becauae the love isnt there anymore. Not like it used to be. Frontiers has Sonic dancing more, give him blue lightning and eyes temporarily turning blue, Frontiers has "Don't Stop Me Now" by Freddie Mercury for their launch trailer music because Sonic Movie 1 had a scene with that song in it.

I think we might be better off if Sonic Team just made a game based off of the Sonic Movies and written by somebody else. The characters and story would at least be fun.

And as a comparison, Luigi is more iddntical to Mario than Tails is to Sonic. Yes Luigi & others are playable while SEGA made the mistake of limiting their cast in most of their games after 2010. If SEGA wants to copy Nintendo, copy their usage of characters & use that to seel merch which results in more revenue. Dont copy Mario Galaxy like they did with Sonic Lost World.

I do like the SatAM Sonic series. I dont remember much of it but it was enjoyable and fun. A fic anout that sounds cool. I used to write my own Sonic fics & even had ideas for games. I might need to read more Sonic fics tho. Been many years since I read them. (One I remember was a Tails and Blaze adventure which made me ship the two lol.) Curious as to what you write. I wont remeber everything from SatAM but I can still enjoy it. And I'm also a fan of DBZ elements in Sonic. That why I liked the games up to Unleashed & Sonic X. They kinda felt like anime stories. Best of luck to you.

And lastly, Gohan is not a badass like many fans think. Those moments are when he is out of control and regrets becoming arrogant/too prideful.

Also, I'm working on "translating" the images of my Non-Self State post to Spanish. That way when you translate my post, its easier for you & you can use the images I'll send you. I'll let you know when I'm done. 👍 And once I send you the images, you can add a link to my post within your translation like this...

Gohan is a scholar who fights. He's not a badass, he's a powerful goofball. Which is basically like Goku & Krillin. Gohan actually takes aspects from both Goku & Krillin for his character. Thinking he's a badass or just a weak nerd is silly. Those are fans who only have surface level knowledge of the characters or are fans who have been misguided by the fandom's inaccurate and beta male ideas of what masculinity is. A man takes care of what's his & will do what he needs to do to protect them. Not simply "fight fight fight." (Most ppl in the DB fandom are illogical "beta males" who think they are "alphas" or are women who are fooled by their own illogical thinking that "beta" characteristics are desirable "alpha" characteristics. Kinda funny how backwards so many ppl are.)

So, unlike Tails, Gohan did not want to get involved in combat. He was forced into it while Tails made the choice to fight along Sonic. Neither are badasses. But both are reluctant to fight at times. They are peaceful people. I never seen either of them as badasses. Just intelligent people and intelligent fighters when they need to fight.

[delusion-of-negation]

1 Thanks for your addition, and for understanding that it's difficult to get all the nuances into tumblrs character limit, considering how nuanced and deep this topic goes, especially when adding personal experiences. I never really thought to deeply about it, even though you're right. I'm a half-slavic woman living as diaspora in a white country where they have a history of oppressing the white-indigenous culture, and I've been called a slur relating to that despite not being of said indigenous

re

prev ask

character limits and casual conversations and the limitations of talking about such huge topics inevitably lead to not every little nuance being covered, I sometimes worry that the way my head goes "oh and also here's some other stuff that fills that gap!" will come across as saying "how dare you forget this", so thanks also because I worried I wasn't getting my tone right lately and I was worried you'd think I was attacking. yee, I think I've been called certain slurs beginning with g that jimmy carr would approve of more than my actual name at this point, I think it's fair for me to view that as racism, it's attacking a person for their race or their perceived race, but it's easy to forget that it's racism when main discussions of racism revolve around the more severe topics like slavery for obvious reasons. having been the victim of a beating from the police for being trans and disabled, I see how that was weaponising the same systems against me that are weaponised against others - it's not a battle against one big bad with just an ultimate singular goal, it's fighting a complex web of attitudes or behaviours or policies or so forth, that overlap at points and will contradict each other at other points. intersectionality is drawn sometimes as circles with lines between them, and each circle generally is described as a person who has traits the lines target with bigotry - this is a very poor way to envision it and leads to a whole lot of misunderstandings. intersectionality's seeing how a policy that was invented to arrest hippes and poc, the anti-drug crusades in america I mean, now attacks disabled people who're using said drug as pain relief also, and the *issue* intersects for seemingly disparate features people may have, the opiate issue similarly affects disabled people because when that drug group became demonised doctors started giving it out less, which has generally been heralded as a good thing preventing addiction in people, yet what it actually does is push people to either live life constantly in agony or seek out illegal meds via dealers. seeing different ways the system affects different groups, and how the webs sometimes cross strings in various ways, that's what it is, that's intersectionality, not "abel is a black trans woman and so mathematically speaking abel has it worse than joe", and I think sometimes it just takes one casual conversation where phrasing makes something click for people to realise the difference there, understand their experience in a new light, etc, and that's some reasons why working side by side and together is so important, while remembering that we can't all prioritise everything, we are going to have our own specialities. I think mine is just getting us talking to each other, I'm not great at designing policy but I like having conversations and helping people see different angles.

[phantasieandmirare]

My Critical Role Campaign 3 Character Predictions

So I had a dream the other night about the campaign three characters, specifically their introductions, and while I highly doubt that this will be how it goes, I still wanted to share what they were in the dream cause I thought they were interesting and kinda funny in places and also cause sharing this has been on my to-do list for like a week.

So here's my crack!Campaign 3 predictions!

Liam: Bugbear Druid - Liam went first in introductions again, and they were meeting with some kind of shaman-ish lady and having tea with her before it zoomed out and we saw his character. Kinda low intelligence from how this character spoke/acted, from what I could gather.

Marisha: Lizardfolk Wizard - Marisha was playing this very short-ish lizardfolk, about the size of a human toddler (I thought it was a kobold at first, but then dream!Marisha specifically said 'lizardfolk' so there). I don't remember much about this character except that they were dressed in kind of a monk-looking robe, was chasing or talking to a butterfly, and seemed a little on the young-ish side, and Marisha was breaking out a Spurt-ish voice, maybe as a joke because this voice didn't stick for the entire dream.

Ashley: Dragonborn Monk - I don't remember a lot about this character beyond the fact that they were a blue dragonborn (with a tail, since that's an important distinction in Exandria) and spoke in Ashley's voice, and that's all I got from them.

Sam: Kobold Sorceror - Also not a lot from this character but it was definitely Sam's voice, not as Spurt-y as Marisha but still definitely leaning in that direction, and kinda refined in how they were acting.

Laura: Tabaxi Bard - Also not a lot from this character except their voice was more like Vex but with Jester's humor and also some self-deprecation in there, and they had some kind of stringed instrument.

Travis: Tiefling Rogue - I remember seeing a gray-skinned tiefling with very simple horns (kinda Maleficent-style) and speaking in Travis's voice, and that's it about them.

Taliesin: Taliesin's character was unrevealed! What I remember about the dream is that the rest of the group entered this ancient, ransacked, run-down library, and after a few minutes of exploring it Taliesin's character spoke from 'off-camera', if you will, and then it cut to something else and I didn't get to see his character.

BONUS Ashly Burch: In the dream, Ashly was also there! She was playing a human artificer, and from what I remember they were wearing a long head covering/veil over their hair and seemed kind of Romani-inspired in their outfit and overall design, and they were entering some kind of arena on horseback.

BONUS Sam de Leve: Sam de Leve, who is an absolutely awesome Geek & Sundry contributor and one of my favorite roleplayers, was also there! They were playing a human paladin decked out in full white-gold armor from what I could see, but I didn't get a ton of information on their character beyond the fact that they were entering the arena area together with Ashly's character.

MATT BONUS: At the end of the first episode, Sam asked Matt if they could expect a story more like campaign one or more like campaign two for this campaign and all that Matt said was "No." with no further elaboration.

So anyway, there's my weird dream/crack predictions for Critical Role Campaign 3, probably none of it is gonna happen but I can (literally) dream and it was interesting and kinda fun to dream about!

[itonje]

people of color in arthurian legend masterpost

hi! some people said it would be cool if i did this, and this is something i find interesting so. yeah! are you interested in king arthur and the knights of the round table? do you like to read about characters of color, especially in older lit? well, i hope this can be a good resource for people to get into stuff like that, especially poc/ethnic minorities who might feel uncomfortable or lonely getting into older media like arthuriana. this post is friendly to both those who prefer medieval lit and those who prefer modern stuff!

disclaimers: i am not a medievalist nor a race theorist! very much not so. i am just a 17 year old asian creature on the internet who wants to have an easy-to-reference post, if i’m not comprehensive enough please inform me. i’m going to stay closely to the matter of britain, as well, not all medieval european literature as a. this is what i’m more familiar with and b. there’s so much content and information and context to go along with it that it would really be impossible to put it all into one tumblr post. (however there’s always going to be overlap!) also, please do not treat me or any other person of color/ethnic minority as a singular all-knowing authority on anything! we’re all trying to have fun here and being made into an information machine on things, especially what is and isn’t offensive isn’t fun. with that out of the way, let’s get into it! (under cut for length!) 

part i: some historical context (tw for racism and antisemitism discussion)

fair warning, i’m going to start off with some discussions of more heavier history before we talk about more fun stuff. while pre colonial racism was far more different than how it is today, there still...was racism. and it’s important to understand the social mien around nonwhite people in europe at the time these works were written. 

to understand how marginalized ethnicities were written in medieval european literature, you have to understand the fact that religion, specifically catholicism, was a very important part of medieval european life. already, catholicism has violent tenets (ie, conversion as an inherent part of the church, as well as many antisemitic theologies and beliefs), but this violence worsened when an event known as the crusades happened.

the crusades were a series of religious wars started by the catholic church to ‘reclaim’ the holy land from islamic rule and to aid the byzantine empire. while i won’t go into the full history of the crusades, (some basic info here and here and here) its important to understand that they had strengthened the european view of the ’pagan’ (ie: not european christian) world as an ‘other’, a threat to christiandom that needed to be conquered and converted, for the spiritual benefit of both the convertee and the converter. these ideas of ethnoreligious superiority and conversion would permeate into the literature of the time written by european christians. 

even today, the crusades are very much associated with white supremacy and modern islamophobic sentiment, with words such as ‘deus vult’ as a dogwhistle, and worship of and willingness to emulate the violence the crusaders used against the inhabitants of the holy land in tradcath spaces, so this isn’t stuff that’s all dead and in the past. crusader propaganda and the ignorance on the violence of the catholic church and the crusaders on muslim and jewish populations (as well as nonwhite christians ofc) is very harmful. arthuriana itself has a lot of links to white supremacy too-thanks to @/to-many-towered-camelot for this informative post. none of this stuff exists in a bubble. 

here’s a book on catholic antisemitism, here’s a book on orientalism, here’s a book about racism in history that touches on the crusades. (to any catholic, i highly reccommend you read the first.)

with that out of the way, we can talk about the various not european groups that typically show up in arthurian literature and some historical background irt to that. the terms ‘moor’ and ‘saracen’ will typically pop up. both terms are exonyms and are very, very broad, eventually used as both a general term for muslims and as a general term for african and (western + central) asian people. they’re very vague, but when you encounter them the typical understanding you’re supposed to take away is ‘(western asian/african) foreigner’ and typically muslim/not christian as well. t

generally, african and asian lands will typically be referred to as pagan or ‘eastern/foreign’ lands, with little regard for understanding the actual religions of that area. they will also typically refer to saracens as pagans although islam is not a pagan religion. this is just a bit of a disclaimer. the term saracen itself is considered to be rather offensive-thank you to @/lesbianlanval for sending me a paper on this subject. 

while i typically refer to the content on this post as having to pertain to african and asian people (ie, not european) european jewish arthurian traditions are included on this post too. but, i know more about poc and they’ll feature more prominently in this post because of that, lol. 

part ii: so, are there any medieval texts involving characters of color?

i’m glad you asked! of course there are! to be clear, european medieval authors were very much aware that people of color and african + asian nations existed, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. even the vita merlini mentions sri lanka and a set of islands that might (?) be the philippines!! for the sake of brevity though, on this list i’m not going to list every single one of these small and frequent references, so i’m just going to focus on texts that primarily (or notably) feature characters of color. 

first of all, it’s important to know was the influence of cultures of color and marginalized ethnicities that helped shape arthurian legend. the cultural exchange between europe and the islamic world during the crusades, as well as the long history of arab presence in southern europe, led to the influence of arabic love poetry and concepts of love on european literature, helping to form what we consider the archetypal romance. there are also arthurian traditions in hebrew, and yiddish too, adding new cultural ideas and introducing new story elements to their literature-all of these are just as crucial to the matter of britain as any other traditions!

when it comes to nonwhite presence in the works themselves, many knights of color in arthurian legend tend to be characters that, after defeated by a knight of arthur’s court join the court themselves. though some are side characters, there are others with their own romances and stories devoted to them! many of them are portrayed as capable + good as, if not better than their counterparts. (this, however, usually only comes through conversion to christianity if the knight is not christian...yeah.) though groups of color as a general monolith created by european christians tended to be orientalized in literature (see: mystical and strange ~eastern~ lands), many individual knights were written to be seen by their medieval audience as positive heroes. i’m going to try to stick to mostly individual character portrayals such as these. 

with that all said though, these characters can still be taken as offensive (i would consider most to be) in their writing, so take everything with a grain of salt here. i will also include links to as many english translations of texts as i can, as well as note which ones i think are beginner friendly to those on the fence about medieval literature!

he shows up in too many texts so let’s make this into two bullet notes and start with one of, if not the most ubiquitous knight of color of the round table (at least in medieval lit),-palamedes! palamedes/palomides is a ‘’saracen knight’’ who (typically) hails from babylon or palestine and shows up in a good amount of texts. his first appearance is in the prose tristan, and he plays a major role there as a knight who fights with tristan for the hand of iseult-while he uh. loses, him and tristan later become companions + friends with a rivalry, and palamedes later goes off to hunt the questing beast, a re-occurring trend in his story. 

palamedes even got his own romance named after him (which was very popular!) and details the adventures of the fathers of the knights of the round table, pre arthur, as well as later parts of the story detailing the adventures of their sons. it was included in rustichello da pisa’s compilation of arthurian romances, which i unfortunately have not seen floating around online (or...anywhere), so i can’t attest to the quality of it or anything. he appears in le morte darthur as well, slaying the questing beast but only after his conversion to christianity (...yeah.) in the texts in which he appears, palamedes is considered to be one of the top knights of the round table, alongside tristan and lancelot, fully living up to chivalric and courtly ideals and then some. i love him dearly and i’ve read the prose tristan five times just for him. (also the prose tristan in general is good, please give it a try, especially if you’re a romance fan.)

speaking of le morte d’arthur, an egyptian knight named priamus shows up in the lucius v arthur episode on lucius’ side first, later joining arthur’s after some interactions with gawaine. palamedes has brothers here as well-safir and segwarides. safir was relatively popular, and shows up in many medieval texts, mostly alongside his older brother. i wouldn’t recommend reading le morte of all things for the characters of color though-if you really want to see what it’s all about, just skip to the parts they’re mentioned with ctrl + f, haha. 

the romance of moriaen is a 12th century dutch romance from the lancelot compilation, named for its main character morien. morien, who is a black moor, is the son of sir aglovale, the brother of perceval. whilst gawaine and lancelot are searching for said perceval, they encounter morien, who is in turn searching for aglovale as he had abandoned morien’s mother way back when. i wholeheartedly recommend this text for people who might feel uncomfy with medieval lit. though the translation i’ve linked can be a bit tricky, the story is short, sweet, and easy to follow, and morien and his relationships (esp with gariet, gawaine’s brother) are all wonderful. 

king artus (original hebrew text here) is a northern italian jewish arthurian text written in hebrew- it retells a bit of the typical conception of arthur story, as well as some parts from the death of arthur as well. i really can’t recommend this text enough-it’s quite short, with an easy-to-read english translation, going over episodes that are pretty familiar to any average reader while adding a lot of fun details and it’s VERY interesting to me from a cultural standpoint. i find the way how they adapt the holy grail (one of the most archetypal christian motifs ever) in particular pretty amazing. this is also a very beginner friendly text! 

wolfram von eschenbach’s parzival (link to volume 1 and volume 2-this translation rhymes!) is a medieval high german romance from the early 13th century, based off de troyes’ le conte du graal while greatly expanding on the original story. it concerns parzival and his quest for the grail (with a rather unique take on it-he fails at first!), and also takes like one million detours to talk about gawaine as all arthurian lit does. the prominent character of color here is a noble mixed race knight called feirefiz, parzival’s half brother by his father, who after dueling with parzival, and figures out their familial connection, joins him on his grail quest. he eventually converts to christianity (..yeah.) to see the grail and all ends happily for him. however, this text is notable to me as it contains two named women of color-belacane, feirefiz’s black african mother, and secundilla, feirefiz’s indian wife. though unfortunately, both are pretty screwed over by the text and their respective husbands. though parzival is maybe my favorite medieval text i’ve read so far i don’t necessarily know if i’d recommend this one, because it is long, and can be confusing at times. however, i do think that when it comes to the portrayal of people of color, while quite poor by today’s standards, von eschenbach was trying his best?-of course, in reason for. a 13th century medival german christian but he treats them with respect and all these characters are actually characters. if you’re really interested in grail stories (and are aware of the more uncomfortably christian aspects of the grail story), and you like gawaine and perceval, i’d say go for it. 

in the turk and sir gawain, an english poem from the early 16th century, gawaine and the titular turkish man play a game of tennis ball. i’m shitting you not. this text is pretty short, funnily absurd, and with most of the hallmarks of a typical quest (various challenges culminating in some castle being freed), so it’s an easier read. it’s unclear to me, but at the end of the story the turkish man turns into sir gromer, a noble knight, who may or may not be white which uh. consider my ‘....yeah’ typical at this point, but i don’t personally read it that way for my own sanity. also he throws the sultan (??) of the isle of man (????) into a cauldron for not being a christian so when it comes to respectful representation of poc this one doesn’t make it, but it does make this list. 

the revenge of ragisel, or at least the version i’ve read (the eng translation of the dutch version from the lancelot compilation), die wrake van ragisel, starts off being about the mysterious murder of a knight, but eventually, as most stories do, becomes a varying series of adventures about gawaine and co. one of gawaine’s friends (see: a knight who he combated with for a hot sec and then became friends and allies with, as you do) is a black knight named maurus! he’s not really an mc, but he features prominently and he’s pretty entertaining, as all the characters in this are. i also recommend this highly, i was laughing the whole time reading it! it’s not too long and pretty wild, you’ll have a good romp. this is a good starter text for anyone in general!

i’ve not read the roman van walewein, which, as it says on the tin, is a 12th century dutch romance concerning some deeds of gawaine (if only gawaine was a canon poc, i wouldn’t need to make this list because he’s so popular...). i’m putting it on the list for in this, gawaine goes to the far eastern land of endi (india) and romances a princess named ysabele. i can’t speak to ysabele’s character or the respectfulness of her kingdom or representation, but i know she’s a major character and her story ends pretty well, so that’s encouraging. women of color, especially fleshed out woc, are pretty rare in arthurian lit. i’ve also heard the story itself is pretty wild, and includes a fox, which sounds pretty exciting to me!

now the next two things i’m going to mention aren’t really? texts that feature characters of color or jewish characters, but are rather more notable for being translations of existing texts into certain languages. wigalois is a german 13th century romances featuring the titular character (the son of, you guessed it, gawaine!) and his deeds. the second, jaufre, is the only arthurian romance written in occitan, and is a quite long work about the adventures of the knight jaufre, based on the knight griflet. what’s notable about these two works is that wigalois has a yiddish translation, and jaufre has a tagalog translation. wigalois’ yiddish translation in particular changed the original german text into something more fitting of the arthurian romance format as well as adding elements to make it more appealing for a jewish audience. the tagalog translation of jaufre on the other hand was not medieval, only coming about in 1900, but the philippines has had a long history of romantic tradition and verse writing, so i’m curious to see if it too adds or changes elements when it comes to the arthurian story, but i can’t find a lot on the tagalog version of jaufre unfortunately-i hope i can eventually!

this list of texts is also non-exhaustive! i’m just listing a couple of notoriety, and some to start with. 

part iii: papers and academic analysis

so here’s just a dump of various papers i’ve read and collected on topics such as these-this is an inexhaustive and non-comprehensive list! if you have any papers you think are good and would like to be added here, shoot me an ask. i’ll try to include a link when i can, but if it’s unavailable to you just message me. * starred are the ones i really think people, especially white people, should at least try to read. 

Swank, Kris. ‘Black in Camelot: Race and Ethnicity in Arthurian Legend’ *

Harrill, Claire. ‘Saracens and racial Otherness in Middle English * Romance’

Keita, Maghan. ‘Saracens and Black Knights’ 

Hoffman, Donald L. ‘Assimilating Saracens: The Aliens in Malory's ‘Morte Darthur’

Goodrich, Peter H. ‘Saracens and Islamic Alterity in Malory's ‘Le Morte Darthur’

Schultz, Annie. ‘Forbidden Love: The Arabic Influence on the Courtly Love Poetry of Medieval Europe’ *

Hardman, Philipa. ‘Dear Enemies: the Motif of the Converted Saracen and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’

Knowles, Annie. ‘Encounters of the Arabian Kind: Cultural Exchange and Identity the Tristans of Medieval France, England, and Spain’ *

Hermes, Nizar F. ‘King Arthur in the Lands of the Saracens’ *

Ayed, Wajih. ‘Somatic Figurations of the Saracen in Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte Darthur’

Herde, Christopher M. ‘A new fantasy of crusade: Sarras in the vulgate cycle.’ *

Rovang, Paul R. ‘Hebraizing Arthurian Romance: The Originality of ‘Melech Artus.’’

Rajabzdeh, Shokoofeh. ‘The Depoliticized Saracen and Muslim erasure’ *

Holbrook, Sue Ellen. ‘To the Well: Malory's Sir Palomides on Ideals of Chivalric Reputation, Male Friendship, Romantic Love, Religious Conversion—and Loyalty.’ *

Lumbley, Coral. ‘Geoffrey of Monmouth and Race’ *

Oehme, Annegret. ‘Adapting Arthur. The Transformations and Adaptations of Wirnt von Grafenberg’s Wigalois’ *

Hendrix, Erik. ‘An Unlikely Hero: The Romance of Moriaen and Racial Discursivity in the Middle Ages’ *

Darrup, Cathy C. ‘Gender, Skin Color, and the Power of Place in the Medieval Dutch Romance of Moriaen’ *

Armstrong, Dorsey. ‘Postcolonial Palomides: Malory's Saracen Knight and the Unmaking of Arthurian Community’ (note this is the only one i can’t access in its entirety)

part iv: supplemental material

here’s some other stuff i find useful to getting to know knights of color in arthurian legend, especially if papers/academic stuff/medieval literature is daunting! i’d really recommend you go through all of these if you can’t go through anything else-most are quick reads. 

a magazine article on knights of color here, and this article about the yiddish translation of wigalois. 

this video about characters of color in arthurian legend!

the performance of the translation of arabic in Libro del Caballero Zifar, and how it pertains to the matter of britain 

a post by yours truly about women of color in parzival

this info sheet about palamedes, and this info sheet about ysabele-thanks to @/pendraegon and @/reynier for letting me use these!

this page on palamedes as well

this post with various resources on race and ethnicity in arthuriana-another thank you to @/reynier! 

part v: how about modern day stories and adaptations?

there’s a lot of em out there! i’m not as familiar with modern stuff, but i will try to recommend medias i know where characters of color (including racebends!) are prominent. since i haven’t read/watched all (or truly most) of these, i can’t really speak on the quality of the representation though, so that’s your warning. 

first of all, when it comes to the victorian arthurian revival, i know that william morris really liked palamedes! (don’t we all.) he features frequently in morris’ arthurian poetry, (in this beautiful book, he primarily features in ‘sir galahad, a christmas mystery’ and ‘king arthur’s tomb’. he has his own poem by morris here.)

and some other poems about palamedes, which i’d all recommend. 

for movies, i know a knight in camelot (1998) stars whoopi goldberg as an original character, the green knight (2021) will star dev patel as gawaine. 

some shows include camelot high, bbc merlin, disney’s once upon a time, and netflix’s cursed, all featuring both original characters of color and people of color cast as known arthurian figures. 

for any music people, in ‘high noon over camelot’, an album by the mechanisms, mordred is played by ashes o’reilley, who in turn is performed by frank voss, and arthur is played by marius von raum who is perfomed by kofi young. 

i’ve also heard the pendragon and the squire’s tales have palamedes as a relevant character if you’re looking for novels, as well as legendborn and the forgotten knight: a chinese warrior in king arthur’s court starring original protagonists of color! 

part vi: going on from here

so, you’ve read some medieval lit, read some papers, watched some shows, and done all that. what now? well, there’s still so much out there! 

if you have fanfiction, analysis, metaposts, fun content etc etc about arthurian poc, feel free to plug your content on this post! i’d be happy to boost it. 

in general, if you’re a person of color or a jewish person and you’re into arthurian legend, feel free to promote your blog on this post as well! i would love to know more people active on arthurian tumblr who are nonwhite. 

this is really just me asking for extra content, especially content made by poc, but that’s okay! arthurian legend is a living, breathing set of canons and i would love love love to see more fresh diversity within them right alongside the older stuff. 

a very gracious thank you to the tumblr users whom i linked posts to on here, and thanks to y’all for saying you want to see this! i hope this post helped people learn some new things! 

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ hannah meets up with one of her close friends to catch up; alternatively: the fox and the quokka meet again

⇢ set in mid april 2021

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. feedback is highly appreciated!

Hannah shook her head fondly as she watched Yoonmi race down the hall towards the recording studio frequently seen on vlive. She and Yeonjun exchanged amused looks as the young girl excitedly entered the room, yelling the name of her older brother.

“Come on,” Yeonjun placed a hand on her back and sped their pace up, “or else Chan hyung’s gonna use us not being there as an excuse to stay longer.”

She scoffed at that, following Yeonjun regardless. “Please, he’d drop everything for Yoonmi anytime, and you know that.”

Yeonjun’s laugh was the only response she got as they entered the studio. The door opened immediately as they arrived in front of it, revealing Yoonmi dragging a chuckling Chan away to probably her manager’s car.

“Looks like they’ll be gone for a while,” Changbin laughed from the inside before nodding at her with a smile and turning to Yeonjun. “Let’s go before Wooyoung and Haknyeon decide to make us pay for being late.”

Yeonjun nodded and stepped out with Changbin, ruffling her hair on his way out. “See you in a bit, Hannah.

She glared at him a little before turning towards her friend who remained cleaning up the studio. They haven’t been able to see each other since their promotions overlapped. Or since the award shows, actually. “Hey, quokka.”

“Miss foxy,” Jisung playfully bowed at her before continuing to gather up his stuff, “long time no see. You hungry?”

“Always,” she playfully rolled her eyes at him, “or have you forgotten already?”

“Not when you and Yongbok have been constantly sending each other desserts. No cookies recently?”

“Yoonmi makes the best cookies, and she always sends some over to Chan hyung for you guys. Felix told me.”

The betrayed look he had on his face when he realized this made her laugh. It dawned on her that, though Chan may have told Felix to let the others get some cookies whenever they want, Felix must have kept it a secret. He loved Yoonmi’s cookies, so it was no surprise.

“He never told us!”

“Come on, let’s go eat.”

The two friends found themselves in the JYP cafeteria, food paid for with Jisung’s credits. He had a whole set of food in his tray, which was quite a drastic difference from her single bowl of salad. He frowned when he saw her tray.

“Just a salad?”

She shrugged. “We’re in the middle of promotions, so I’m dieting.”

“Nope,” he placed a plate of pasta on her tray and some extra side dishes, “your boyfriend and members are gonna kill me if I don’t feed you. Our food’s all organic, anyway. It’ll be fine. We’re sharing side dishes, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes but followed him to an empty table. They settled across from each other and began digging in. The conversation carried smoothly, as if they didn’t have a solid four or four months of not seeing each other. It switched from the food to normal catching up to preparations.

“Your comeback’s really good, by the way,” Jisung noted. “I listened to the whole album. Really good. You worked on lyrics, too!”

“Just a bit,” her tone was humble as she moved the salad around on her plate. “I thought it was fitting since it’s our first full album, so I did my best. Sorry for bothering you for help, by the way. I know you’re pretty busy with Kingdom.”

“Please,” he shook his head, “I needed the distraction. We were so caught up on preparing for the show, so I needed to forget it just a little.”

“How are you guys, by the way? I’ve seen your past few performances.” A teasing smirk made its way up to her face while she looked up from her food to meet his eyes. “I liked your cover of I’ll Be Your Man. Very impressive high notes there, mister main rapper. Very desperate.”

Jisung snorted and tossed a little sausage from their side dishes onto her plate. “Shut up, you know the performance is supposed to seem desperate.”

“What’s coming up? The collaboration stage, right?” She took a moment to recall the last episode’s ending. “It’s a shame that you guys aren’t working with The Boyz. You, Eric, and Sunwoo rapping together would have been cool.”

“You’re friends with Sunwoo?”

“We’ve met, but you already know I talk to English line the most.” She jolted up straight upon remembering something, startling Jisung into hitting his leg against the table. The boy curled in on himself a little, making her laugh. “Sorry about that. Did you hear? Changmin oppa invited me to co-host your sports day!”

That was the reason why she had been in a meeting the day before right after their schedules. She didn’t expect that she’d be brought straight to the company right after her schedules with NCT Dream, much less did she expect that she’d be meeting with a few higher ups and some Mnet staff alongside her senior for a cameo.

Jisung raised an eyebrow at her. “What? You’re coming to watch our sports day?”

“Co-host, but yeah.”

“This is gonna be so funny,” he laughed. “You know that, even if you have a boyfriend now, Juyeon hyung has an idol crush on you, right?”

“Stop!” Her hand went to her forehead in embarrassment. “Eric always mentions it whenever we talk, I swear.”

The smirk on her friend’s face sent a chill down her spine. “But there’s also Seonghwa hyung and Chani… Oh my god, man! What is it with you and these older guys, huh?”

“One more word out of your mouth, Han Jisung, and I’m telling Chan oppa that you had a crush on Yoonmi.”

Ah, yes. This short-lived crush her friend had on her other friend which amused her to no end every time he’d talk to her about how Yoonmi’s lyrics hit different, how her on stage persona is captivating, how she’s adorable in BTS content, or how her rap is unmatched by any other girl idols. Jisung, like many other fourth generation idols (and some from third generation) had fallen for the international sweetheart, and she made sure to tease him about it whenever given the chance.

Jisung groaned, “Of course I tease you about other’s having a crush on you, but you can’t tease me about people liking me.”

“Hey, if it means anything,” she began, “I used to like you the slightest bit back in late 2019 when we did those collab stages. Nothing much, it died as soon as it started, so don’t get too cocky.”

The slightly astonished look on her friends face made her remind him that it was a momentary thing rather than a prolonged crush. This, of course, didn’t stop Jisung from poking fun at her.

“Aye, I’m so telling your boyfriend,” Jisung laughed.

She gave him a pointed look. “Nothing is kept a secret in our group, and he’s in the same unit as one of the people most overprotective of me.”

The 00-liner wisely kept his mouth shut, making her laugh. A silence passed between the two before they silently agreed on not speaking about these infatuations ever again. She finished the last of her food before rummaging around her bag and pulling out a small bottle. It was something she didn’t use often, but prefered whenever she didn’t have to promote. Black nail polish.

“I brought this, by the way,” she mentioned as her phone started ringing. “I don’t know why you asked for it, but here you go.”

“Nice,” he took the bottle, “now answer your phone while I finish my food.”

The familiar face on her screen brought a subconscious smile to her face the moment she got her phone out of her pocket. It was her none other than her boyfriend, Liu Yangyang. She chuckled a little before answering the phone.

“Hey, Schnucki. I’m with Hannie right now. Jisung, say hi.”

She brought the phone closer to Jisung’s face, where he awkwardly greeted the boy on the other end of the phone. The awkwardness made her laugh and take it back. Maybe she should have waited until after he swallowed before making him say hi.

“Me again!”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Yangyang asked her with the slightest hint of concern in his voice. “Renjun told me you skipped out on the food your manager got you guys on the way home.”

“Hwang Injun, that snitch.” Her mumbling was easily caught by Jisung who snorted in amusement. She lightly smacked his arm from across the table then went back to her conversation. “I just ate dinner! JYP Entertainment’s special organic food is pretty filling, don’t worry.”

“Alright,” his voice sounded relieved. “How long are you gonna be there? Will you be back too late? You still have an early start tomorrow.”

She chuckled at her boyfriend’s questions. Ever since their jacket shoot, her schedule had been filled with preparations for NCT Dream’s comeback. Yangyang had been texting her good morning everyday without fail and constantly checking up on her to make sure she was still functioning properly somehow. For some reason, she found this endearing about him. He usually wouldn’t seem like that type of boyfriend, but he is.

“I’ll be here until Yoonmi finishes shopping for her future nephew and Yeonjun oppa comes back from dinner with the 99s. Hannie’s taking care of me, don’t worry.”

Jisung’s scoff from across the table made her send him a pointed look.

“Could you put me on speaker?”

“Hold on.”

One more warning look was sent towards Jisung as she placed the phone on the table. Jisung looked at her curiously before turning towards the phone.

“Yangyang?” he called out cautiously.

“Hi, Han,” Yangyang greeted. “I know we only spoke a few times, but I hope it’s not too much to ask to take care if Hannah?”

“No problem, bro,” the Stray Kids member nodded despite the fact that the WayV boy couldn’t see him. “We’ll just be here in the company, there’s a bunch of places to lounge in and a lot of food.”

There was a laugh from the other end of the phone. “Thanks for taking care of my pet fox.”

“Excuse me,” she interjected, making the two boys laugh, “I will sheer your hair off your head, you sheep.”

“Kidding! Anyway, Han, you’re Hannah’s friend, so I’m trusting her with you. As a friend, right?”

Jisung chuckled. “Of course. No need to worry.”

Hannah snatched up her phone and turned speaker off before the conversation could get any longer. “Is that it?”

“I’m at the dreamie dorm right now, so I’m expecting cuddles when you get back.”

A slight chuckle escaped her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes. “As long as you’re out of the dorms by 1:30am at the latest, okay?”

“Of course, babe.” The wink was evident in his voice, she didn’t even need to see him to know he did. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“See you later, Schnucki.”

With that, she hung up her phone and looked up to find Jisung looking at her with a teasing smile. “What?”

“You’re so whipped,” he drew out. “Honestly! The smile on your face says it all. It’s different from when you’re talking to your members or your other friends.”

“My smile?”

Looking back on it, Jeno did mention that there was something different in the way she looked at Yangyang. Donghyuck mentioned it as well while jokingly whining about her not giving him as sweet of a smile. Even Yoonmi told her that she sometimes catches Mark smiling at her the way Hannah smiles at Yangyang. Was it really that noticeable?

With a shake of her head, she picked up the black nail polish bottle once again. “What do you want to do with this?”

“Could you paint my nails?”

[amphxtrite]

In relation to the #StopAsianHate tag, it seems fitting to add this contribution since China has been doing a lot of horribly questionable things(to put it mildly), and this has led to a rise in anti-asian rhetoric, with extras on the anti-chinese rhetoric.

It has affected overseas Chinese-descendants and the Chinese diaspora around the world badly, since they had no hand in what China did, nor do they share the same sentiments of China, yet they still get harassed and targeted. Even to the point of cop agents admit to accusing a Canadian professor of Chinese descent of being a spy, Hongkongnese coworkers mistreating overseas Chinese not from China, and a British-born Asian man getting deported without question.

So in lieu of letting this storm rage over even more, the better option appears to be to address everyone's concerns and assumptions about people of Chinese descent who are citizens since birth in other countries and have never set foot in china before.

The main point is: NOT ALL CHINESE AROUND THE WORLD ARE WUMAO COMMUNISTS, NOT ALL CHINESE DESCENDANTS SHARE THE SAME SENTIMENTS AS CHINA OR DOING THINGS FOR CHINA. Got it?

Now, to move on to the other part of attacks on Chinese culture and shaming people just for being Chinese.

1.It is okay to be Chinese-born; there is nothing wrong that you happen to be a Chinese person. You deserve dignity, pursuit of happiness, liberty and respect, just like any other race of person, black, white, Jew, etc out there. You are a person too and don't let anyone treat you otherwise.

2.Chinese people are not "spawn of the bad" or "corrupted subhuman" or "tainted genome"; they are not inherently rotten just by being of Chinese descrnt. There is no proof of that, when you pick apart gene sequences from a Chinese descendant in the clinic, it's still very similar to any other person's dna. Just like every nationality, there's kind people and there's assholes. And just like most other countries, who also had monarchy inbreeding, illness, and radiation(did you know of the Radium Girls in the 1920s, or the very unsafe nuclear testing in the 50s to 90s? They even used to put Radium in wristwatches for citizens to glow in the dark so casually.), the Chinese are no different. Just like to bring up the good parts of others' history rather than focus on the bad so much like china.

3.Chinese history, philosophy and culture does not have all bad parts. Please read and analyze everything, good and bad parts, if you want to make a proper judgement. It is very shocking to hear everyone at this point, so comfortable with joking: "let's nuke the Chinese" or "hope we bomb china badly if there's a war" or "the British and Japanese were good to wipe out the Chinese first" so casually! It is not a fair sentiment nor anti-racist one. If it's wrong to say: "the native Americans should have gotten rid of the arriving pilgrims because they were gonna genocide them anyways so might as well" or "black people should be allowed to hurt white people now for all they've done" then statements of that nature against Chinese is also wrong.

And just like other nations who came before and around the same time, these other nations also had bad parts of their culture. No one seems to highlight how colonizers used to practice Safari Game Hunting in Africa for centuries which killed a lot of animals leaving endangered species, no one talks about the quack and irrational remedies doctors in medieval Ages used to do, how they used to mix arsenic in paint on toys in Victorian era, European wars against indigenous peoples, as much as they keep on bringing up Chinese history's weak points and irrationally using it as a weapon to hold against Chinese people irrelevant to the cause of their past generations for years. It is unfair to whitewash your history while scorning the Chinese people's past.

Some Chinese clothing is nice. Some Chinese food is delicious. Some Chinese architecture can be very beautiful. Some Chinese inventions are useful. Those are the good points of Chinese culture. Not everything is tainted.

4.Not all Chinese are ugly. Or yellow skinned. Or receded jawed. Some have hooded eyes, some have high cheekbones, bigger mouths, wonky noses naturally too. Please look at every Chinese person without plastic surgery and analyze the whole populations faces, before you pass a half-assed judgement of how "ugly" they are in general! Seriously, if not how can you make a proper judgement?

5.As for other Asians who are non-Chinese, please stop trying to compare your cultures against theirs, treat it like a contest and say which one is the 'better Asian' to the people of the Occident(white). It is not cool nor necessary. Just do your thing go brighten your own little corner and you'll be great. Not every wumao is stealing your culture all the time sometimes cultures and trads just overlap or happen to be similar or shared through separation and migration reasons. Yes, you are a different non-chinese Asian and unique, there's no need to make noise or insult Chinese people just to prove your point too.

6.Overseas Chinese had ancestors who suffered too hence their migration and diaspora. Read about the Nanking Massacre, their Opium Addiction, 731 labs, Mao's rule, and other conditions. A lot didn't migrate for fun and games.

This is not dedicated to defending China's misdeeds or the Wumao, this is dedicated to the OVERSEAS people of Chinese descent, the Southeast Asian Chinese, the Chinese diaspora in the west, and anyone who didn't ask to be born with Chinese genes or ancestry but got it anyway: it's not your fault. Don't let yourself be shamed for being born this way, even when it's 'cool' to make fun of Chinese, and find a little pride in yourself. Take care and look out for yourself. There may be 1.4 billion mainland Chinese(even with the birth control policies), but there are many more overseas Chinese who need to be understood as "overseas people of Chinese descent" and respected as such.

For those who are non-chinese reading this, please think carefully anytime you want to post something, is it attacking only the current leaders in china or also targeting Chinese people or overseas Chinese-descent peoples too, before you become the very bigot you hate against a group of people or do a hate crime you might regret. Take a moment, and calm down.

Whoever needs to see this, glad you seen it, even if you need it translated. If you can tag it that would be helpful as well.

this right here 👏👏👏

i hope everyone remembers that it’s not all chinese people who are supporting the unjust things the government is doing. China in general is a very patriotic country and so when given the choice to believe something bad is happening or believing what they have been taught their entire lives (china is great and the best country in the world) they are going side with the statement that has been drilled into their heads since they were children. Chinese people aren’t ignorant they really just don’t know, every news outlet and media platform they use backs up the point that China is the best and they know if they step one toe out of line China is very powerful.

This is the government and the people of power’s doing and it doesn’t matter what the people think. The people either don’t know or don’t understand and it’s fry oho we many people repeatedly blame China as a whole for just a small part of it’s country’s doing.

What’s going on there is absolutely a violation of basic human rights and terrible but please take a moment to remember half the people don’t even know what is happening outside or inside their country because of how controlling everything is there.

Next, because everything there is decided by the government chinese immigrants have NO control over what happens there heck the people in china barely do. So the hate crimes in the west make no. fucking. sense. You’re not going to reach china by attacking u.a or canadian citizens you’re just adding to unnecessary violence. Elderly people, adults and children of north american citizenship are assaulted, harassed and bullied for somethings they cannot control and it’s terrifying how normalized the hate has become.

To all the chinese people seeing this stay strong, there’s no reason to be ashamed of where you or your family is from or how you look.

This anon put it best 🤍🤍

[casijaz]

Well turns out the other post won’t be the last one.

Decided not to put anything under a cut but this post is tagged ‘long post’ so you can click on it at will. I’ve added shorter sections in (brackets) to put together the point.

It’s always been like this. In fact a couple of months ago I made a silly post about it. Please stop giving each other ass-pats about how not-racist you might be. Or how your one non-white friend says whatever you posted is not racist.

White people: Stop being performative allies.

My fellow peas of the seas, or individuals who aren’t white who interact on this western website: Being a poc is not a trump card to claim we can’t contribute to specific forms of racism.

---

I remember back when I was 17 I defended some (then not obvious to me) clearly racist art a white friend of mine made. I spoke to the people who came onto her art and told them they were trolling, they had to be. Spoke in all caps sometimes, had bolded stuff, all weird ways of talking with this demeaning or passive aggressive tone. I remember thinking ‘hey, do they know I’m a person of colour? They must feel silly! Here I am, a poc, who clearly says this is ok!’ But it wasn’t. In this instance the racist art depicted an indigenous person, and this was an instance of racism against indigenous people, and I am not indigenous. (Translation: Defending racism is bad, even if the people who say racism is bad might be mean to you.)

I also have defended white people who lived in a bubble of whiteness. I figured, well, they live in the bubble, or they’re young, and their actions weren’t coming from a place of malice because they didn’t know any better.  (Translation: Even if you’re a nice person, your actions can still be bad, and you should acknowledge this.)

When someone points out to you that something is racist, you shouldn’t jump to a knee-jerk defence or being passive aggressive in acceptance of this fact. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but you’ll have to go through it. Remember this is not about coddling white feelings, it’s about the reproduction of white supremacy and racist ideologies in a multitude of settings. (Translation: Even if you don’t know anything about racism, or don’t think you’re racist, you could still be. Racism is not as simple as one action. It is a global structure that influences the world.)

Reproducing racist ideologies is something that people of colour can also be guilty of. This means that they don’t have the power to be racist (as racism is about a hierarchical power structure where whiteness is as the top, aka white supremacy) BUT they have the ability to reproduce (or repeat, mimic, etc) the racist ideologies that are prevalent all over the world. (Translation: Because racism is everywhere, everyone can do it, even if they don’t wish to.)

Yes, not everyone has the luxury of being able to understand English to a level that certain concepts come across. Which is why I’ve taken the liberty of adding tl;dr to the end of each paragraph to get that point across for my fellow ESL speakers. However not speaking English well enough can be used as another excuse for condoning racist actions by others. (Translation: Saying I don’t know better is not the solution to stop being racist. Trying to understand the other person is.) 

The point is to stop making excuses. Stop defending the racist. Stop defending racist actions, no matter how small or big they are. 

It is also not up to the people who are actually hurt by this to coddle you and teach you. If you wish to learn more please follow blogs that are specifically talking about these issues. Here’s one. Here’s another. Here’s a fandom specific one. Here are also my own posts about xenophobia and more xenophobia. Unfortunately they are heavy with academic writing but I’ll hope to make a simple English version of it one day. (Translation: Here’s helpful blogs for you to learn more from!)

---

As for the people of colour who talk about adding nuance, different perspectives, and how racism is complicated. Yeah. It really is. But whichever argument I see brought up about ethnic issues are still ethnic issues. That’s about xenophobia. I often talk about xenophobia and racism not being the same thing for a white audience, but I feel like maybe I’ve left fellow people of colour out of the conversation.

I’ll speak from my own experiences regarding this, because I could pull situations from all over the world but it wouldn’t be genuine nor would I be the expert. So. In my mother’s country we have many different ethnic groups who most of are not white (I’m pretty sure they make up less than 1% of the population), who sometimes get into conflict with one another. When they discriminate against one another, that’s definitely a bad thing. However when these groups fight both discrimination against ethnic groups and racial categories come to light, as the two are almost always heavily interlinked for people of colour.  (Translation: Racism and xenophobia overlap and connect when it comes to people of colour.)

This country (Suriname) was colonised by western forces so it brought along a lot of strife. While no Surinamese person would probably refer to themselves in Suriname as a person of colour, when they are put in a Western context they definitely always do. When groups fight against each other they use both rhetoric imposed on them by western colonial forces (racism) and hatred for other ethnic groups (xenophobia). Because both groups are still groups of colour, they are only capable of reproducing racism, not producing it, as they have no power to in the structure of racism. (Translation: People of colour can discriminate one another with something they have power over, and reproducing racism.)

---

This entire conversation has also highlighted something that I’ve deliberately avoided in my previous posts, but my fellow black Tumblr friends haven’t, and that is the issue of anti-blackness.

Throughout all of this it seems like many different ethnicities have obviously come together and argue on different sides, but one side seems to be devoid of a certain race that has spoken up against these issues over and over. 

When black people tell you that something is racist, your knee-jerk reaction shouldn’t be ‘but it isn’t, because I’m not white, and I approve of this.’ Going back to that story of 17-year-old me, I was not the racial group affected by the drawing. I was not offended, because it wasn’t my racial identity that was being mocked. When black people tell you that something is racist, you can assume that they’re telling you something is anti-black.

Don’t turn this a conversation only about the voices of people of colour when at the heart of the topic it’s been about anti-blackness shown by a multitude of people from different ethnic groups, white or not.

I’ve seen people act like they’re on the good side because surely they’re supporting people of colour who’ve told them that the side I’m arguing on seems to be ridiculous. I’m calling people names! Making assumptions! I’m stuck in a western perspective talking over non-western people.

Then turn around and they’re not boosting black voices. They’re not mentioning anti-blackness anywhere. I see MLK quotes taken out of context. They’re clamouring to reblog or create art depicting black characters or meta about them, while that art is either fetishistic or was proven to be made by a racist (who was proven to be so like 2 whole minutes ago).

(Translation: Don’t throw black people under the bus. Listen to us when we’re talking about anti-blackness. All poc are indeed not the same, so don’t treat it like it is.)

I hope this will be the last time I’ll talk about this. But I have a bad feeling it won’t be.

[woodstockbtswriter]

Voyagers

Genre: Fluff/Headcanon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.

Author’s Note: I’m late posting, I know, I’m sorry! Real life just got in the way this week. Anyway, this part’s longer to make up for the delay, and there’s a teeny, tiny bit of angst. Hope you enjoy!

GIF Credit: MONOSUGA

Part Twelve

The Anticipation Builds

Your next stop was the one you’d been both looking forward to and dreading the most

The Nevis Swing

As you and the boys arrived at the outbuilding and began registering at the counter, you were still trying to decide if you wanted to do it

Videos of people on the swing were playing on TVs in the lobby, and as you watched your anxiety doubled

Hoseok was vacillating too, and attempting to persuade Jimin and Yoongi to participate

He tried to convince them that this was a rare opportunity, that they should take advantage of it and make memories

Jimin joked that they’d be bad memories, and Yoongi said there wasn’t even a 0.1 percent chance of him doing it

When Namjoon was done signing up, he asked you if you’d made up your mind and reminded you of his offer to ride with you

You wanted to chicken out, but you knew Hoseok was right; you might never get a chance like this again

“Okay,” You told Namjoon, “Let’s make some memories.”

He was pleased with your decision, and gave you a winning smile as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders

You looked to Yoongi where he was sitting on the couch, and found him watching you, his brow furrowed

You gave him what you hoped was a placating smile, but he didn’t return it as he tousled his hair

And your anxiety increased for a completely different reason

Once all the participants were weighed and fitted with harnesses, it was time to head out to the platform

Jimin stepped onto the suspension bridge first, and quickly observed that it was wobbly

The bridge was hundreds of meters in the air, and as you followed behind Namjoon, you gripped the guardrails until your knuckles turned white

You tried to not look down and just focus on moving forward, but your heart was racing and you were already rethinking your decision to try the Nevis swing

If you couldn’t even handle crossing to the platform, there was no way you could handle jumping off

You hesitated, squeezing your eyes shut, and the person behind you asked if you were alright

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Yoongi, you would know the throaty rumble of his voice anywhere

You could feel him standing right behind you, and felt his hand hold the small of your back

He breathed a reassurance in your ear, and you opened your eyes

In front of you, Namjoon had noticed you lagging behind, and he was turned around to offer you his hand

Impulsively, you snatched his hand and clung to him, not noticing Yoongi’s deepening expression as Namjoon helped you along

The Nevis Swing

When you finally reached the platform, you and the boys took seats on the observation deck and you sat between Namjoon and Taehyung, feeling slightly more secure

The fact that you didn’t sit next to Yoongi, again, didn’t escape his notice

He had obviously grown just as used to you being next to him as you had

You hated having to distance yourself from him and you were afraid his feelings were hurt

But you were too overwhelmed by your escalating nervousness right at that moment to focus on him

Within moments of sitting down, the safety attendants called for the first jumpers, and Jungkook volunteered you and Namjoon

Your heart immediately leapt into your throat and you quickly shook your head

There was no way you were jumping first

Seeing your reaction, Jin and Hoseok offered to go

They moved over to the jumping-off point and you all did the “Bon Voyage” chant to hype them up

Jin and Hoseok were obviously both nervous, but they put on brave faces

You watched closely as they were hooked up and given instructions, trying to familiarize yourself with the process

When Jin and Hoseok were both fastened in the swing, they leaned back and their feet lifted off the platform, leaving them hanging in the air

The other boys stood with phones and GoPros poised and ready to film, and everyone started counting down from five

As soon as “one” was called, Jin and Hoseok went flying backward

As they swung over the vast canyon, you and the others shouted as loud as them until they were only dots in the distance

While they were being towed back up, you could tell that they genuinely enjoyed the ride

And you tried to talk yourself up, telling yourself that if they could do it, then so could you

Feeling slightly more confident, you nodded to Namjoon and you both stepped up when the attendants called for another pair of jumpers

He spoke comforting words to you as you waited for your turn, saying, “I think it’ll be fun,” and “Let’s enjoy it,” as he hugged you to his side

And when Jin and Hoseok returned to the platform, they said it wasn’t bad and was only scary for 2-3 seconds

So you focused on your breathing, attempting to calm yourself while the attendant secured you and Namjoon in the swing

Let’s Jump!

Your heart slamming against your ribcage, you tried your best to avoid looking across the ravine, and searched out Yoongi’s face among the spectators instead

You found him wearing another indecipherable expression, but when he saw you finally looking at him, the corners of his mouth lifted into an encouraging smile

Then your toes slipped off the platform and you and Namjoon dangled over the edge

The countdown started, and one of your hands released its tight-fisted grip on the support straps, clutching Namjoon’s without volition

He grasped your hand securely in his bigger one, and before you could take another breath

You began to free fall

Your eyes slammed shut and your stomach felt like it flew out of your body

Air rushed all around you, dampening the sound of Namjoon’s excited shouts, and you squeezed his hand with bone-crushing tightness

But before you knew it, you felt your velocity decreasing as the swing reached the end of its arc

You dared to open your eyes, and you were immediately consumed by a feeling of exhilaration

You swung slower and slower, eventually coming to a stop still far above the ground

Letting go of your held breath, you made a conscious effort to take in every sight and sound and feeling, reveling in the adrenaline rush

You were so glad that you’d found the courage to swing

But you were also really glad that it was over

You looked to Namjoon, exchanging beaming smiles, and expressed your sincere gratitude to him for helping you to experience this

And he told you that he was proud of you, and honored to have made this memory with you

When you were safely back on the platform, you finally released Namjoon’s hand, but gave him a tight hug and thanked him again

The other boys then surrounded you, praising and congratulating you

Their excited voices all overlapped, but you distinctly heard Yoongi exclaim that you were incredible

You looked up, your gazes meeting, and in a softer tone he said that you were amazing

And the feeling his words gave you was remarkably similar to the feeling you’d just had as you swung through the air

Your adventure over with, you reclaimed your seat on the observation deck, sighing in relief as you sat next to Jimin

Taehyung’s turn on the swing was next, and he was feeling anxious too

Trying to encourage him, you told him it would be over before he knew it and that the rush he’d feel would be worth it 

Namjoon then offered to go with him too, and Taehyung gratefully accepted

You observed contentedly as Taehyung then Jungkook experienced the thrill of the swing, and as both Taehyung (emboldened after conquering the swing) and Jungkook took turns on the catapult

Jimin giggled gleefully next to you as he watched, leaning against you as he laughed with his whole body, and his mood was infectious

So despite the nagging worry that you were causing the tiny frown that occupied Yoongi’s face every time you weren’t interacting directly with him, you had fun for the duration of your time on the platform

Shopping, Again

On the shuttle bus back from the Nevis swing outbuilding, the producers explained that part of your group would be heading to the store while the others went ahead to set up camp for the night

Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook needed personal things from the store, so they all opted to go

And Yoongi had to go, because he would be cooking dinner again tonight

But when Yoongi looked to you to agree to join them, you hesitated

You knew he expected you to help him shop for and prepare dinner

It had gotten to be kind of your thing, something the two of you did together

But you felt the watchful eyes of the producers behind the camera, and you weren’t sure what to do

You wondered aloud if you should maybe go with the camping team instead, to help set up

But Hoseok spoke up, insisting that he, Jin, and Jimin could handle it

You should go shopping, he told you, giving you a pointed look

Silently thanking Hoseok - and not wanting to argue with him - you agreed, and Yoongi looked satisfied

Once the shuttle reached the parking lot, you split up, and the shopping group packed into the SUV

Jungkook wanted to drive and Taehyung joined him up front, leaving you no choice but to awkwardly wedge yourself between Yoongi and Namjoon in the backseat

Yoongi was particularly quiet on the ride to the store, giving only single-word answers whenever anyone tried to talk to him

And he made himself as small as possible so that your side and his barely even touched

Which caused the carsick feeling you’d experienced earlier to return

You hated this

You had been afraid Yoongi would close himself off, that he would regret starting to open up to you if he thought you no longer wanted to be around him

And it seemed as though your fears were quickly being realized

You were bursting to explain why you’d been avoiding him all afternoon, to tell him that you had no choice

But the dashboard camera directly in front of you, with its blinking green light and all-seeing lens, kept you silent

Finally, after what felt like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, Jungkook pulled into a parking spot at the grocery store

Inside, you set off on your own, telling Yoongi you’d grab half the ingredients while he grabbed the other half to save time

He nodded, seemingly resigned, and you headed in the direction of curry powder

A little later, when you had everything you needed, you searched for the others in order to deposit your items into the shopping cart

You found Yoongi and Taehyung waddling down an aisle under the direction of a filming Jungkook, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable they were

Catching up to the them, you dropped your armful of ingredients into the basket, and Jungkook asked you to accompany him to the haircare products aisle

You agreed, and as you followed him, Taehyung led an idling Yoongi down the aisle with his hands on his hyung’s shoulders

After helping Jungkook select a hair serum for his long locks, you met up with the rest of the boys in the checkout line and paid for your groceries

Another Drive

When you were done shopping and heading back to the SUV, Yoongi walked out ahead and reached the driver’s seat before Jungkook

Jungkook said he didn’t mind driving, but Yoongi claimed he felt like taking a turn behind the wheel

So with a heavy sigh, you climbed into the backseat with Namjoon, and Jungkook got in next to you

And you felt even more squished between his broader shoulders and Namjoon’s

During the drive to the campsite, Taehyung wondered if the North Island or the South Island of New Zealand is bigger, and Namjoon informed him that they’re similar in size

Speaking for the first time since you’d left the store, Yoongi added that the whole of New Zealand is 1.5-1.8 times bigger than all of Korea

You looked up at that, observing Yoongi’s face in the rearview mirror

You had told him that fact

The night before, when you were exchanging random bits of trivia

He had been impressed that you knew that

But why had he felt compelled to share it now?

He met your gaze momentarily in the mirror, but his eyes conveyed no answers

Then Jungkook changed the subject, saying he wished he had the freedom to spend a month here, a month there, traveling from city to city and enjoying everything each place had to offer

The other boys acknowledged that kind of lifestyle had its appeal

But when Yoongi said Korea is still the best place, they had to agree

Your hands twisting together in your lap, you recalled your brief visit to Korea over a month ago

What little you had seen of the country had been amazing, and you very much wanted an excuse to go back

You communicated this hope to the boys, still watching Yoongi’s reflection

“I could definitely see myself staying there for a month. Or longer.” You told them, as Yoongi looked up at you again

And you desperately hoped that he understood what you wanted to - but couldn’t - say

Previous - Next

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 8

oof I don’t know if I actually like this chapter or not. imposter syndrome has taken up residence in my brain and it’s not looking to move out anytime soon. hopefully this is better than I’m giving myself credit for. 

I’m gonna try and get on a more regular schedule of updating this weekly. I think we’ve got one more part to day three and then a chapter each for days four & five. there might also be another middle of the night chapter, trying to figure out if it fits into the timeline like I want it to or not. you get some sneak peaks of angsty Luke in this part which I’m kind of excited about. can’t be all soft boy all the time. gotta get that ~dimension~

also, I wrote a one-shot of Ray and Rose’s first date that was referenced waaaay back in pt. 6! it’s also the story of Tia Victoria’s 21st birthday that was referenced in pt. 7! I really love it which isn’t something I’ve felt about my writing lately so you should check it out.

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

Julie had expected a mess of sloppy, overlapping notes and kinks that would need to be quickly smoothed out by Friday’s performance. She had been ready to go into the Showcase and just give it their best, hoping that maybe they would sound somewhat coherent, but not really expecting much all the same. A band couldn’t be built in a day. It was part of why she thought Luke’s plan was so insane. She couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried.

Within the first three run-throughs of the song things just seemed to click into place. It was like she had been playing with them her entire life. The longer they played, the more they slipped naturally into their role as bandmates. The energy in the room, the chemistry between the four of them, was palpable. She knew they could feel it too.

It was the way Reggie turned to her at the exact moment she moved towards him, playing off of her as she gave into her need to move to the bassline vibrating through her feet. It was how Alex’s face lit up with a kind of unrestrained joy she had never seen before, face shining as he nodded his head in time with his tapping foot when she turned towards him. They laughed together as she flipped her hair out of her eyes at the exact same time he did, completely in sync as they moved to the rhythm created by his fast-moving sticks. It was every single part of Luke.

His head, tilting to the side to call her to him just as she began to drift closer to his side. His voice, blending with hers like they had been made to sing together. His eyes, drilling into hers as she held her microphone out for them to share. His fingers, so sure on the strings beneath them that he didn’t once break their stare down. The tension she had felt simmering between them for the last few days exploded. They felt it at the exact same moment as their most seamless playthrough of the song came to a close.

Julie’s voice rang out beyond the instruments as she held her final note a beat longer than everyone else. She could hear the sound of Reggie and Alex’s voices rising with enthusiasm as they talked, but she couldn’t make out their words. Everything felt a little soft on the edges as Luke gazed at her with so much awe she thought she would float off the ground. He made her feel transcendent. Like the celestial being he claimed her to be. It was hard to feel like she wasn’t in Heaven when he looked at her like that. Her breath caught in her throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly she was being jostled from behind, her moment with Luke broken. Her feet stumbled as leather-clad arms wrapped around her tightly, sweeping her into a clumsy spin.

“Julie! That was amazing!”

Reggie’s voice was sparkling, and she couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving into the all-consuming feeling of happiness that was bubbling up inside of her. They came to a stop as a longer pair of arms covered in soft pink cotton pulled them close. Julie met Alex’s eyes, giving him a grateful smile as the studio finally came back into focus. He beamed back at her, completely relaxed and damn near glowing.

“I gotta agree with Reg for once.”

Julie giggled as Reggie let out an indignant shout, lips slipping into a pout. Alex ignored him, releasing his hold on both of them, but still talking to Julie.

“Seriously, Julie, I totally see what Luke has been saying. He was right, you’re perfect.”

Julie felt hot all the way from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. She gave Luke a side-eyed glance, heart tripping as she caught the quick expression of embarrassed betrayal on his face. So, he had actually used the word ‘perfect’ to describe her. He had talked about her to his boys, and not just as a musician. This wasn’t only about the music. She knew that, or she should have known that by now, but to be faced with it so plainly was something else entirely. Luke attempted to slip into a casual slouch, but his hand scratching at the back of his neck gave away the nerves he was feeling as his gaze slipped back over to hers. Julie gulped, breathing out slowly.

“What can I say? You definitely make us better.”

Another attempt at a nonchalant shrug that was foiled by his still-scratching hand and slight vocal crack. Julie’s heart raced, her stomach flipping low in her gut. So, this is what a real crush feels like. Julie had crushed on boys before, or so she had thought. Never before had she felt like this. She hadn’t actually known the other boys she had been attracted to. Not in the way she was beginning to realize she knew Luke. She had kept herself at a distance from them, building up a fantasy in her mind as to what type of person they were and what it would be like to see that fantasy come to life. Her crushes had always been somewhat superficial and definitely unobtainable. Luke was neither one of those things. He was right here. She knew him. Connected with him on a level deeper than should be possible after only three days, but it was undeniable all the same. Her soul whispered that she had always known him, she had simply been waiting for him to return to his true home within her heart all this time.

Luke was shifting uneasily on his feet, just like earlier in the day when he realized he had taken his bold declarations a step too far. Only this time, Julie realized she liked when he did that. The way he built her up without even trying, an endless supply of support and admiration falling from his lips so easily. Julie simultaneously wanted to reassure him and also continue needling him because the way his words made her feel was a high like no other. His eyes crinkled at the edges, smile softening just for her. She gave in to the temptation to touch him, reaching up to lightly grasp his wrist. The scratching finally stopped, and Julie gave a special soft smile of her own.

“I think we make each other better. That’s a great song, Luke. Thank you for doing this for me.”

Julie released her grip and lowered her hand, biting her lip slightly. She didn’t miss the way that Luke’s ears tinged pink, his arm hovering in the air for a second as he processed her words. Their eyes locked, a million fleeting emotions passing between them in seconds, their own form of silent communication. With Luke, Julie was learning that there was a lot more in the things left unsaid than the things that he let slip out. Her words meant more to him than he would ever be able to express and she wondered if that related back to something with Bobby or something with his parents. Maybe even both. The moment stretched on, the rest of the studio melting away in the background. Until Reggie’s whisper broke through.

“I see chemistry.”

The twin slaps of Alex’s hand on his forehead and Luke’s hand falling to his thigh echoed in the otherwise silent space. Julie felt her cheeks burn, breaking away from Luke’s gaze to face the other boys once again. She really had to stop letting herself get swept up in him. Especially when they had such an observant audience. Her eyes darted to the clock behind them, surprised to find several hours had already passed. Her dad would probably be calling her up for dinner soon. Right on cue, the studio doors rattled and opened. Carlos, framed by the setting sun behind him, studied the group of teenagers.

“So, this is your boy band?”

“Boy band! Who you callin ‘boy band’?!”

Luke’s indignant shout would have been funny if Julie wasn’t hyperaware of how close she was still standing to him. Carlos’s skeptical brown eyes darted back and forth between them like he could tell he had missed out on a golden opportunity to embarrass her. He smirked slightly, crossing his arms as he regarded Luke.

“I mean, you’re boys in a band. Ergo, boy band.” His hands lifted in a falsely innocent shrug. “I don’t make the rules.”

Reggie giggled as Luke’s jaw dropped slightly, stunned into silence by her brother’s sass. Even Alex was fighting back a grin. Reggie stepped closer to Carlos, whipping out his hand for a high-five.

“Up top, little dude!”

Carlos’s smirk melted into a genuine smile as he lifted onto his toes to smack Reggie’s hand. Julie rolled her eyes, nudging Luke a bit while the others were distracted. He turned to her with a small pout.

“Kids usually think I’m cool.”

“No, kids usually think you’re another kid.” Alex chimed in gleefully.

Luke’s pout deepened and Julie couldn’t resist knocking their fingers together for a quick brush of contact.

“I think you’re cool.”

The whisper was low, but she could tell he heard it by the way he snatched her hand into his, squeezing it for a brief moment as he gave her that burning look again. The interaction was over in a second, but Julie felt the lingering fire race across her skin. She wished she could have a minute or ten alone with him. She turned back to Carlos in the doorway before he could notice. That kid didn’t need any more ammunition against her, thank you very much.

“Did you need something, Carlos? Or are you just here to be a pest?”

He broke off his conversation with Reggie to stick his tongue out at her. She repeated the gesture back to him.

“I need a lot of things actually. Like a normal sister for one.”

He snickered at the way her nostrils flared, fully aware that she wanted to reach out and cuff the back of his head but wouldn’t do it in front of other people. She settled for gritting her teeth and reminding herself that as annoying as Carlos was, he was also her little brother and she loved him. She just didn’t always appreciate his astonishing lack of a filter around older boys that he thought were cool. Luke had read him all wrong of course. Carlos only teased people he was in awe of. That reminder calmed her as well. He was teasing out of love, and because he was nervous around these teenagers that he clearly wanted to like him. She could give him a pass. She could also tease him right back.

“I know where you sleep, twerp. Relay your message or scram.”

He rolled his eyes at her lame threat, but dropped the bratty attitude nonetheless.

“Dad says it’s time to eat. He said the guys can stay if they’re hungry.”

Carlos couldn’t fully hide the hope in his voice, though he tried to sound indifferent about it. Julie watched the boys share a quick look, an entire conversation taking place in mere seconds. Alex’s arm went around Reggie, who sagged a bit like he was disappointed. Luke’s hand went back to his neck, body slumping as if to shrink himself. Alex’s fingers tapped out a restless beat against his thigh. None of them moved to speak. Julie couldn’t stand the uncomfortable way the air grew thick between them.

“I’m sure the guys have plans already, bud. This was kind of a last-minute thing. Maybe tomorrow?”

She aimed the question at the boys instead of Carlos. They seemed to melt all at once. Another silent conversation communicated through glances. Reggie took the lead this time.

“That sounds great! As long as you’re sure your dad won’t mind. We don’t wanna be a burden.”

Julie shook her head, heart aching at the way Reggie said ‘burden’ like it was a title he was used to.

“No burden at all. Dad always makes too much spaghetti anyway. And my Tía usually brings food a few times a week so we literally always have leftovers. You guys would be helping us out by eating them up, honestly.”

Reggie smiled at her, and Julie was surprised to find that she wanted to cry. Not because she was happy or sad or any particular emotion really, but because Reggie made her feel the same way Carlos did when it was the middle of the night and she was waking up to the feeling of his cold feet against her calves and his whispered confession about not wanting to be alone right then. She felt protective. Ready to fight whatever or whoever it was out there that had made him believe he was too much simply by existing. Was this what her mom had talked about when she said the best bands were actually families? Julie had always taken that to mean her family, as in her mom and her. Maybe what she had been saying all along was that the magic of music could make a family. The right connections, the right mix of artists, and it wasn’t just about playing anymore. It was about creating something together, breathing life into their art as one entity. Caring for each other, lifting each other up, bandaging each other’s wounds.

The enormity of the realization that all it took was one afternoon for her to adopt these three idiots hit her like a ton of bricks. She didn’t even know them, and yet, she did. Their souls were forever intertwined. Whatever feeling had overtaken them during their practice would linger for the rest of eternity, burned into her heart like a brand. The magic of music.

“Thanks, Julie.”

Alex’s voice was soft, fingers calm once more. Julie nodded, not trusting herself to speak right then.

“Cool!”

Carlos whooped, breaking the moment once again. This time, Julie didn’t mind so much.

“I’ll go tell Dad. See you guys later!”

He was off like a rocket, propelled forward by his unshakeable enthusiasm. The arm that Alex still had around Reggie flexed for a moment before dropping. Reggie gave him a quick smile, lifting his bass over his head. Luke swung his guitar onto his back, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. Julie could tell something was bothering him. Alex seemed to feel it too.

“Hey, Reg, can you go unlock the van? I’m gonna start carrying my kit up.”

Alex tossed the keys to Reggie, who somehow managed to catch them singlehandedly while still holding his bass. His eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then he looked over at Luke and understanding dawned. He raced out of the studio without a word, Alex close behind him cradling his bass drum in his arms. Julie turned to Luke once they were alone, only to be met with his back as he fiddled with his guitar in its case. His shoulders were raised high, muscles bunched tightly under his shirt. She took a few steps forward, resting her hand lightly on his back once she was next to him. He relaxed slightly and she sighed in relief. Her fingers took on a mind of their own, softly rubbing until he let his shoulders fall.

“Please don’t feel obligated to stay for dinner tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

Luke spun around so quickly Julie didn’t have time to step back. He grabbed her elbows, steadying her but not moving out of her space. His expression was torn, eyes intense. Julie felt her throat tighten.

“No, Julie, it’s not that. I just...families are hard. For me. For...us.”

His eyes flew to the still open doors and back. She didn’t have to ask who the us was.

“Your dad seems really great. Your brother too. I just...it’s silly, but I don’t wanna let you or your family down.”

He bit his lip, gaze slipping down to the floor. They stood toe-to-toe, the tips of their sneakers almost touching. Julie breathed in deeply, the faint smell of her shampoo tickling her nose. It had to be coming off of Luke. Her own hair had been tied back into a bun at the beginning of band practice. It was an intimate reminder of the night before. When he hadn’t been home in the middle of the night because sometimes it was better to be elsewhere, even if elsewhere just meant not there. She couldn’t relate to that feeling. Her home had never felt like anything other than a welcoming, safe space. Her family had never been anything other than loving and supportive, even in the rare moments when they fought with each other.

“Luke, I’m pretty sure my dad thinks that you’re an angel. He was so happy this afternoon he didn’t even bring up the meeting with Lessa. You’re the reason I’m playing music again and that’s as good as gold in his eyes.”

“No way, Molina.” Luke scoffed, hands raising from her elbows to her shoulders. “That’s all on you. I didn’t do anything except ambush you for my own personal gain.”

Julie was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. He was trying to play everything off with that cocky, cool kid attitude, but she knew him better now. That bravado was all a defense mechanism. One of her own hands lifted, brushing his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering along his jawline.

“You’re wrong, Patterson.”

She didn’t miss the way he jerked a bit when she used his last name, his pupils widening slightly. A small smile formed on her lips. Two could play at that game.

“You rescued my mom’s song and protected it all this time. You brought it back to me right when I needed it. Did you know that was the last song she ever worked on? The last song we ever worked on. That song is the last piece of my mom. I don’t think I would have ever been able to play again without it, and I didn’t even realize that until yougave it back to me.”

She edged forward until their shoes touched. It wasn’t that much closer, but Julie could feel every inch of space lost between them. Luke’s eyes were doing that soft, starry thing again, and Julie thought her own eyes might look the same. He let his hands fall from her shoulders until they were resting lightly against her waist. Her own hands snuck around his neck, fingertips brushing against his soft, jasmine scented hair. Luke swayed their bodies slightly, his need for constant motion of some kind getting the best of him. It made her want to laugh, but this moment felt too big for that. Of all the ways her relationship with Luke had rapidly shifted in the last few days, this felt like the most serious. She wasn’t trying to fight him anymore. She was laying her cards out just as openly as he had.

“Julie...”

She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him further, his voice twisting her name into the sweetest sounding melody. Luke didn’t get a chance to say or do anything else before noise filtered in through the still open studio doors. Alex’s voice, louder than Julie had ever heard it before, as he chatted with Reggie. Luke’s shoulders curved slightly, like he was disappointed, before he straightened and put some more space between them. They dropped their hands at the same time, the loss of contact causing her to shiver. Luke shot her a quick smile, so Julie knew his actions were less about hiding her and more about not wanting to share their delicate relationship with anyone else just yet. That was okay with her, too. It felt a little too new, a little too fragile, to let anyone else in on it just yet.

Alex and Reggie appeared only seconds later, Alex looking a little wary like he wasn’t sure his loud approach had been enough warning, Reggie’s expression open and happy, clearly oblivious to the thick tension between Luke and Julie. He was babbling to Alex about something involving physics homework, both of them moving to collect several other pieces of Alex’s kit. Luke gave her one last glance before he left her side to lift an amp. Julie was silent for a moment as she watched them before a realization had her smacking her forehead. The sound was loud enough to startle the boys, who turned to her with matching confused expressions on their faces.

“You guys are going to be right back over here tomorrow. You don’t need to take all your stuff out just to haul it back in here in like 24 hours. I should have said something earlier.”

Another silent conversation, the boys wary and anxious again. Julie wished she had a better understanding of the landmines she seemed to keep stumbling upon. Luke had given her a small hint, but the rejection anxiety ran deep in every single one of these boys. Reggie spoke up before Julie had the chance to reassure them.

“Are you sure your dad won’t mind?”

He was fiddling nervously with the strap on his bass, eyes wide. Alex’s grip flexed on the snare he held, Luke stepping closer to his guitar case. She heard the underlying question behind Reggie’s tone. Are you sure these parts of our souls will be safe here?

“He won’t mind at all. He hasn’t touched a thing in here since we locked it up after Mom...since we locked it up a year ago.”

She tried to keep her voice soft, her steps slow as she moved to place her hands against the top of the grand piano.

“My mom’s piano has been stored in here my entire life. I promise you the Molina’s know the importance of protecting our instruments. It’s up to you though. I totally get it if you want to keep them with you.”

Julie didn’t wait for their response, letting them process and decide for themselves how they felt about the situation. She bent to lift the sheet that usually covered the piano, shaking it a few times before closing the fallboard and draping the soft material over the instrument.  By the time she turned around, only Luke was left behind her. She raised a brow, concerned she had said the wrong thing. His lips stretched into one of the smiles reserved just for her.

“They went back to the van to get Alex’s bass drum.”

Her eyes darted off to the side behind him, noticing that the snare Alex had been holding was back in place, Reggie’s bass once more nestled into a guitar holder. She felt her frown soften into a smile, relieved that they seemed to trust her despite not really having much of a reason to.

“Thank you...for, ya know, being so cool about all of this.”

Luke’s voice was quiet, hands fidgeting like he was fighting the urge to raise them to the back of his neck.

“Luke, I should be the one thanking you. Seriously, you guys don’t have to do this for me, and you are anyway. Actually, you very well could get into trouble for doing this, and yet you’re still willing to take that risk. The least I can do is house your instruments for a few days.”

Julie didn’t mean to, but something in her voice had his head snapping up at the way she said her last sentence. Like he could tell that she was trying to say it wasn’t just the instruments she was willing to care for. It was the boys too. It was Luke. They didn’t say anything more, letting the sentiment hang in the air between them. Luke’s eyes were impossibly soft. If Julie hadn’t already plunged over the cliff ledge falling for him, this moment would have toppled her.

Reggie and Alex stumbled back in, both of them laughing but unable to fully articulate why. Something about an old Vine video and bible study. Alex reset his bass drum, Julie scrounging up another sheet from the linen closet in the bathroom to cover it for the night. And if she took an extra second to run her fingers over the towel now hanging on the hook next to the shower, the faint scent of jasmine and citrus body wash and Luke drifting off of it at the movement, well no one else had to know about that.

[tokiro07]

I think I may have talked about this before, but I really hope that DBS: Broly sets a precedent for canonizing older, non-canon characters and plotpoints

That being said, I realized today that I don’t really want every single Dragon Ball movie to be rehashed into excuses for Goku to get stronger ad infinitum

Instead I think it would be cool if they were rehashed to be excuses for EVERYONE ELSE to get stronger! 

It’s basically gotten to the point where Goku is incomparable to basically everyone else anyway, so when the “final” Dragon Ball villain finally shows up in the next X number of years, I think it would be good for the rest of the cast to be a bit more balanced with him. Sure, we know he’d still be the last one standing and would probably get another power-up to shoot ahead as always, but it would be a lot more engaging if the rest of the cast was at least able to put up a real fight. I don’t imagine they’d each be getting a movie, but I don’t want them to have super short OVAs either, so I think somewhere between 5 and 10 episodes each would do really well

So let’s say we bring back Dr. Wheelo from World’s Strongest; while it might be cool to get more scenes with Roshi, I don’t think we quite need the whole “stealing Roshi’s body” plotline anymore. Instead, we could use it as an excuse to bring back Android 13 using Dr. Wheelo as the impetus. From there, this plotline follows Krillin, 18 and 17 on a family trip, wherein we get to meet 17′s wife and children. Wheelo shows up with 13, maybe 14 and 15 too, trying to get 17 and 18 so he can use them to upgrade either his own robot body or further upgrade 13. After the group dispatches with 14 and 15, Wheelo has 13 upgrade himself into Super Android 13 with their cores like in the film; this necessitates that 17 and 18 get stronger by also finding a way to become Super Androids, which also ties in and canonizes certain aspects of the Super 17 Arc from GT. At the same time, Krillin is also finding a way to upgrade himself, leaving him to beat Wheelo while Super 17 and 18 beat Super 13

Lord Slug gets repurposed as specifically a Piccolo villain and showcases a new Namekian transformation, perhaps the armored form seen in Dragon Ball Heroes; in order for Piccolo to defeat Slug, he needs to also access this armored form. It’s been stated that in order for Piccolo to fully regain the power of the Nameless Namekian he would need to reabsorb King Piccolo and allow evil back into his heart. The need to attain the armored form may be what prompts him to bring back King Piccolo’s soul and absorb it, with the major character arc of the film being Piccolo confronting the villain he used to be and finally overcoming it once and for all. Garlic Jr. could also serve this same purpose, and I actually think it would be interesting for Garlic Jr. and Slug to somehow team up, but I also think it would be better if it were a bit more focused and only chose one. 

Turles could be repurposed as a Universe 6 Saiyan, giving him an opportunity to be redesigned to look less like Goku so as not to overlap with Goku Black. Vegeta finally makes good on his promise to visit Planet Sadala and decides to bring his family with him so that Trunks can be closer to his heritage. Goten either sneaks aboard or Vegeta allows him to come with because he thinks it’s an opportunity he’d never get from Goku. After taking in the Saiyan culture and giving Vegeta some time to reflect on how things could or should have been for him and his race and family, the plot shifts to Turles betraying Sadala, possibly under Frost’s orders, and attempting to drain it with the Tree of Might. Because he’s draining the Saiyans and not Earthlings, he gets a massive powerup that far outstrips what he got in the original film, allowing him to easily dispatch with Cabba, Caulifla and Kale. This in turn requires either Vegeta fight him with the powers he’s currently learning from Beerus in the manga or Trunks and Goten gain a power up as Gotenks. I do think that Turles would be better served as a Vegeta villain specifically in this case, as while I think Goten and Trunks need more development, Vegeta definitely deserves to have a story where he’s the hero

Tapion and Hirudegarn could easily provide Trunks with the development that he’d otherwise be getting from Turles, repurposing the sibling relationship he developed with Tapion in Wrath of the Dragon to have a bit more of a lasting impact (actually forcing Trunks to be confronted with the choice of killing Tapion rather than just having Hirudegarn escape from Tapion’s body before Trunks does anything as just one example). This would not only build up Trunks’ character, but would give him a really easy powerup in the form of Tapion’s Brave Sword

Garlic Jr., if not a Piccolo villain, could then in turn be a Goten villain, as Garlic Jr. was previously always defeated by child Gohan. Goten could be confronted with Garlic Jr. while Trunks is busy with Hirudegarn, forcing Goten to fight without relying on fusion and ultimately finding his own way of fighting that’s distinct from Goku’s ever-evolving Super Saiyan forms and Gohan’s Potential Unleashed. This would also make it even more impactful when Goten and Trunks reunite into Gotenks later in a bigger final battle

Bojack would then return as Gohan’s villain, but this time Gohan would have Videl with him (who would also be given an opportunity to improve her skills), as well as a slightly older Pan who may exhibit the same kind of untapped strength as Gohan did at her age. Gohan would either find some way to surpass Potential Unleashed to defeat Bojack or would specifically be able to beat him because his family is there fighting with him. Perhaps something like “Bonds Unleashed,” wherein Gohan exceeds his potential through the power of his love for his family or something silly like that? It’d also be a good chance to revisit Bojack’s team and develop them a bit more, especially fan-favorite Zangya

Cooler could give us a chance to develop Frieza on his own a bit, allowing him to finally reach the Fifth Form and subsequently combine it with the Golden Form while also exploring the culture of Frieza’s species, or at least the dynamics within his family as galactic conquerors

Janemba doesn’t really have anyone in particular aside from Goku and Vegeta that he would make a ton of sense to be a villain for, but given how frequently Janemba is compared to Buu, I could see him being a way for Buu and Uub to team up, fully reintroducing Uub and giving us a way for Buu to level up, maybe somehow channeling his Super or Kid forms in a more constructive way

Baby of course would be a way to reintroduce Super Saiyan 4, but seeing as he’s a Tuffle Machine Mutant, I could definitely see him coming into conflict with Broly as a way to get Broly up to Legendary Super Saiyan 2 or beyond. That said, Broly’s probably going to be brought back long before they rehash Baby, I just think that would be really interesting, especially since Legendary Super Saiyan is such a similar concept to Super Saiyan 4 (going Super Saiyan while in a pseudo-Great Ape state as opposed to going Super Saiyan while actually in Great Ape). My main problem is that I’m not sure how SS4 can be introduced at this point since it might conflict with SSG and SSB, but that’s an issue for the writers. I also don’t think it’d necessarily be good to have Baby remove Vegeta from the plot by possessing him like in GT, so maybe Baby’s Saiyan body should be a Universe 6 Saiyan. Perhaps Cabba would be a good candidate, since he’s pretty clearly far weaker than Caulifla and Kale, so it might lead to some good development for him

Finally, the Shadow Dragons would be a good way to tie everyone back together, with each of them (barring Frieza, probably) taking on a different Shadow Dragon using what they’ve learned; since I couldn’t find a place for Tien or Yamcha, perhaps they can team up to beat any of the Shadow Dragons that the others don’t get to. I don’t think it would be good to end things on a repurposed villain, so of course Omega Shenron wouldn’t be the final Dragon Ball villain this time around, but perhaps this would be where Goku finalizes and masters whatever abilities he’ll be using against the true final villain

I don’t know if other people would like this as much as I would, I just think it’d be really cool to revisit all of these characters and concepts, tweak their designs a bit and also give the extended cast a way to powerup and get closer to Goku’s level. Probably won’t happen, but I’d personally love to see it

[morwensteelsheen]

I’m starting grad school this autumn and honestly I’m getting nervous. Like yes I am v excited about the whole prospect overall and I do miss being a student but am intimidated by 3 hr long seminars and thesis writing and massive amounts of reading… everyone keeps saying it’s gonna be very different from undergrad so okay, but how specifically? Is it the large amounts of reading? I already had insane amounts of reading (humanities degree hurrah) especially in my last two years but could you expound on your own experience and how you take notes/read quickly/summarize or just how to deal with first time grad students?

Oh, yeah for sure! A necessary disclaimer here is that I'm at a certain poncy English institution that is noted for being very bad at communicating with its students and very bad at treating its postgrad students like human beings, so a lot of these strategies I've picked up will be overkill for anyone who has the good sense to go somewhere not profoundly evil lol.

So I'll just preface this by saying that I am a very poor student in terms of doing what you're supposed to. I'm very bad at taking notes, I never learned how to do it properly, and I really, really struggle with reading dense literature. That said, I'm probably (hopefully?) going to get through this dumb degree just fine. Also — my programme is a research MPhil, not taught, so it's a teensy bit more airy-fairy in terms of structure. I had two classes in Michaelmas term, both were once a week for two hours each; two in Lent, one was two hours weekly, the other two hours biweekly; and no classes at all in Easter. I also have no exam component, I was/am assessed entirely on three essays (accounting for 30% of my overall mark) and my dissertation (the remaining 70%), which is, I think, a little different to how some other programmes are. I think even some of the other MPhils here are more strenuous than that, like Econ and Soc Hist is like 100% dissertation? Anyways, not super important, but knowing what you're getting marked on is important. I dedicated considerably less time than I did in undergrad to perfecting my coursework essays because they just don't hold as much weight now. The difference between a 68 and a 70 just wasn't worth the fuss for me, which helped keep me sane-ish.

The best advice anyone ever gave me was that, whereas an undergrad degree can kind of take over your life without it becoming a problem, you need to treat grad school like a job. That's not because it's more 'serious' or whatever, but because if you don't set a really strict schedule and keep to it, you'll burn yourself out and generally make your life miserable. Before I went back on my ADD meds at the end of Michaelmas term, I sat myself down at my desk and worked from 11sh to 1800ish every day. Now that I'm medicated, I do like 9:30-10ish to 1800-1900 (except for now that I'm crunching on my diss, where, because of my piss-poor time management skills I'm stuck doing, like, 9:30-22:30-23:00). If you do M-F 9-5, you'll be getting through an enormous amount of work and leaving yourself loads of time to still be a human being on the edges. That'll be the difference between becoming a postgrad zombie and a person who did postgrad. I am a postgrad zombie. You do not want to be like me.

The 'work' element of your days can really vary. It's not like I was actually consistently reading for all that time — my brain would have literally melted right out of my ears — but it was about setting the routine and the expectation of dedicating a certain, consistent and routinized period of time for focusing on the degree work every day. My attention span, even when I'm medicated, is garbage, so I would usually read for two or three hours, then either work on the more practical elements of essay planning, answer emails, or plot out the early stages of my research.

In the first term/semester/whatever, lots of people who are planning on going right into a PhD take the time to set up their applications and proposals. I fully intended on doing a PhD right after the MPhil, but the funding as an international student trying to deal with the pandemic proved super problematic, and I realised that the toll it was taking on my mental health was just so not worth it, so I've chosen to postpone a few years. You'll feel a big ol' amount of pressure to go into a PhD during your first time. Unless you're super committed to doing it, just try and tune it out as much as you can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with taking a year (or two, or three, or ten) out, especially given the insane conditions we're all operating under right now.

I'll be honest with you, I was a phenomenally lazy undergrad. It was only by the grace of god and being a hard-headed Marxist that I managed to pull out a first at the eleventh hour. So the difference between UG and PG has been quite stark for me. I've actually had to do the reading this year, not just because they're more specialised and relevant to my research or whatever, but because, unlike in UG, the people in the programme are here because they're genuinely interested (and not because it's an economic necessity) and they don't want to waste their time listening to people who haven't done the reading.

I am also a really bad reader. Maybe it's partially the ADD + dyslexia, but mostly it's because I just haven't practiced it and never put in the requisite effort to learn how to do it properly. My two big pointers here are learning how to skim, and learning how to prioritise your reading.

This OpenU primer on skimming is a bit condescending in its simplicity, but it gets the point across well. You're going to want to skim oh, say, 90% of the reading you're assigned. This is not me encouraging you to be lazy, it's me being honest. Not every word of every published article or book is worth reading. The vast majority of them aren't. That doesn't mean the things that those texts are arguing for aren't worth reading, it just means that every stupid rhetorical flourish included by bored academics hoping for job security and/or funding and/or awards isn't worth your precious and scarce time. Make sure you get the main thrust of each text, make sure you pull out and note down one or two case studies and move right the hell on. There will be some authors whose writing will be excellent, and who you will want to read all of. Everything else gets skimmed.

Prioritisation is the other big thing. You're going to have shitty weeks, you're probably going to have lots of them. First off, you're going to need to forgive yourself for those now — everybody has them, yes, even the people who graduated with distinctions and go on to get lovely £100,000 AHRC scholarships. Acknowledge that there will be horrible weeks, accept it now, and then strategise for how to get ahead of them. My personal strategy is to plan out what I'm trying to get out of each course I take, and then focus only on the readings that relate to that topic.

I took a course in Lent term that dealt with race and empire in Britain between 1607 and 1900; I'm a researcher of the Scottish far left from 1968-present, so the overlap wasn't significant. But I decided from the very first day of the course that I was there to get a better grasp about the racial theories of capitalism and the role of racial othering in Britain's subjugation of Ireland. Those things are helpful to me because white supremacist capitalism comes up hourly in my work on the far left, and because the relationship of the Scottish far left to Ireland is extremely important to its self definition. On weeks when I couldn't handle anything else, I just read the texts related to that. And it was fine, I did fine, I got my stupid 2:1 on the final essay, and I came out of it not too burnt out to work on my dissertation.

Here is where I encourage you to learn from my mistakes: get yourself a decent group of people who you can have in depth conversations about the material with. I was an asshole who decided I didn't need to do that with any posh C*mbr*dge twats, and I have now condemned myself to babbling incomprehensible nonsense at my partner because I don't have anyone on my course to work through my ideas with. These degrees are best experienced when they're experienced socially. In recent years (accelerated by the pandemic, ofc), universities have de-emphasised the social component of postgrad work, largely to do with stupid, long-winded stuff related to postgrad union organising etc. It's a real shame because postgrads end up feeling quite socially isolated, and because they're not having these fun and challenging conversations, their work actually suffers in the long term. This is, and I cannot stress this enough, the biggest departure from undergrad. Even the 'weak links' or whatever judgemental nonsense are there because they want to be. That is going to be your biggest asset. Talk, talk, talk. Listen, listen, listen. Offer to proofread people's papers so you get a sense of how people are thinking about things, what sort of style they're writing in, what sources they're referring to. Be a sponge and a copycat (but don't get done for plagiarism, copy like this.) Also: ask questions that seem dumb. For each of your classes, ask your tutors/lecturers who they think the most important names in their discipline are. It sounds silly, but it's really helpful to know the intellectual landscape you're dealing with, and it means you know whose work you can go running to if you get lost or tangled up during essay or dissertation writing!

You should also be really honest about everything — another piece of advice that I didn't follow and am now suffering for. The people on your courses and in your cohort are there for the same reasons as you, have more or less the same qualifications as you, and are probably going to have a lot of the same questions and insecurities as you. If you hear an unfamiliar term being used in a seminar, just speak up and ask about it, because there're going to be loads of other people wondering too. But you should also cultivate quite a transparent relationship with your supervisor. I was really cagey and guarded with mine because my hella imposter syndrome told me she was gonna throw my ass out of the programme if I admitted to my problems. Turns out no, she wouldn't, and that actually she's been a super good advocate for me. If you feel your motivation slipping or if you feel like you're facing challenges you could do with a little extra support on, go right to your supervisor. Not only is that what they're there to do, they've also done this exact experience before and are going to be way more sympathetic and aware of the realities of it than, say, the uni counselling service or whatever.

Yeah so I gotta circle back to the notes thing... I really do not take notes. It's my worst habit. Here's an example of the notes I took for my most recent meeting with my supervisor (revising a chapter draft).

No sane person would ever look at these and think this is a system worth replicating lol. But the reason they work for me is because I also record (with permission) absolutely everything. My mobile is like 90% audio recordings of meetings and seminars lol. So these notes aren't 'good' notes, but they're effective for recalling major points in the audio recording so I can listen to what was said when I need to.

Sorry none of this is remotely organised because it's like 2330 here and my brain is so soft and mushy. I'm literally just writing things as I remember them.

Right, so: theory is a big thing. Lots of people cheap out on this and it's to their own detriment. You say you're doing humanities, and tbh, most of the theory involved on the humanities side of the bridge is interdisciplinary anyways, so I'm just gonna give you some recommendations. The big thing is to read these things and try to apply them to what you're writing about. This sounds so fucking condescending but getting, like, one or two good theoretical frameworks in your papers will actually put you leaps and bounds beyond the students around you and really improve your research when the time comes. Also: don't read any of these recommendations without first watching, like an intro youtube video or listening to a podcast. The purists will tell you that's the wrong way to do it, but I am a lazy person and lazy people always find the efficient ways to do things, so I will tell the purists to go right to hell.

Check out these impenetrable motherfuckers (just one or two will take your work from great to excellent, so don't feel obliged to dig into them all):

Karl Marx and Fredrich Engels (I'm not just pushing my politics, but also, I totally am) — don't fucking read Capital unless you're committed to it. Oh my god don't put yourself through that unless you really have to. Try, like, the 18th Brumaire of Louis Napoleon for the fun quotes, and Engels on the family.

Frantz Fanon — Wretched of the Earth. Black Skin White Masks also good, slightly more impossible to read

Benedict Anderson — Imagined Communities. It's about nationalism, but you will be surprised at how applicable it is to... so many other topics

Judith Butler — she really sucks to read. I love her. But she sucks to read. If you do manage to read her though, your profs will love you because like 90% of the people who say they've read her are lying

Bourdieu — Distinction is good for a lot of things, but especially for introducing the idea of social and cultural capital. There's basically no humanities sub-discipline that can't run for miles on that alone.

Crenshaw — the genesis of intersectionality. But, like, actually read her, not the ingrates who came after her and defanged intersectionality into, like, rainbow bombs dropped over Gaza.

The other thing is that you should read for fun. My programme director was absolutely insistent that we all continue to read for pleasure while we did this degree, not just because it's good for destressing, but because keeping your cultural horizons open actually makes your writing better and more interesting. I literally read LOTR for the first time in, like February, and the difference in my writing and thinking from before and after is tangible, because not only did it give me something fun to think about when I was getting stressy, but it also opened up lots of fun avenues for thought that weren't there before. I read LOTR and wanted to find out more about English Catholics in WWI, and lo and behold something I read about it totally changed how I did my dissertation work. Or, like, a girl on my course who read the Odyssey over Christmas Break and then started asking loads of questions about the role of narrative creation in the archival material she was using. It was seriously such a good edict from our director.

Also, oh my god, if you do nothing else, please take this bit seriously: forgive yourself for the bad days. The pressure in postgrad is fucking unreal. Nobody, nobody is operating at 100% 100% of the time. If you aim for 60% for 80% of the time and only actually achieve 40% for 60% of the time, you will still be doing really fucking well. Don't beat yourself up unnecessarily. Don't make yourself feel bad because you're not churning out publishable material every single day. Some days you just need to lie on the couch, order takeout, and watch 12 hours of Jeopardy or whatever, and I promise you that that is a good and worthwhile thing to do. You don't learn and grow without rest, so forgive yourself for the moments and days of unplanned rest, and forgive yourself for when you don't score as highly as you want to, and forgive yourself when you say stupid things in class or don't do all of (or any of) the class reading.

Uhhhh I think I'm starting to lose the plot a bit now. Honestly, just ping me whatever questions you have and I'm happy to answer them. There's a chance I'll be slower to respond over the next few days because my dissertation is due in a week (holy fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) but I will definitely respond. And honestly, no question is too dumb lol. I wish I'd been able to ask someone about things like what citation management software is best or how to set up a desk for maximum efficiency or whatever, but I was a scaredy-cat about it and didn't. So yeah, ask away and I will totally answer.

[kalypsichor]

oh darling [ beatles x reader ]

summary: backstage on the England leg of your tour, you meet the four Liverpool boys of your dreams

prompt: can i request a reader who’s a musician/singer and a big beatles fan so they sing their favorite songs at a concert (my peronal faves are “honey pie”, “oh, darling!” or “for no one”, but you can choose!) and the boys were secretly there!! the boys meet them after the show and the reader just loses it?? maybe some romance?? warnings: too much backstory, badly researched 60s slang

i’m fudging the timeline around so that in this fic oh! darling was released in the early 60s instead of in abbey road and reader is meeting them in the mid 60s. reader is american and I incorporated some romance but left it open-ended. more notes at the end!

masterlist

This is what you love most about touring. A thousand faces shining with the glow of the stage in dark concert halls; the satisfying dig of guitar strings into your fingertips; each inhale of breath that rushes into your lungs and is converted to notes ringing with clarity, clashing with dissonance; and the raw electricity of it all.

As the last chord of the song fades into the air, you allow yourself a giddy, adrenaline-fueled smile. The crowd roars and stomps their feet and you can feel the ground vibrating underneath your feet. It takes a while to get them to quiet down, and when they finally do, you lean in towards the mic.

“I’d like to thank y’all again for coming to tonight’s show!” Cue more screaming. “We’re going to close out with a song by a band you probably haven’t heard of— very underground, very obscure, you know. One of your lot. This is Oh! Darling.”

The crowd erupts into more cheers and you allow yourself to reminisce about the first time you’d heard this song on the radio. A few years younger and without a nickel to your name, your band had been just a hobby during the off-seasons of school. In the sweltering New Orleans summer, crammed into a friend’s garage, you wrote and played songs inspired by the local rhythm and blues so popular at the time. It was all just for your own enjoyment, of course— you didn’t think that anyone outside of Louisiana would like your kind of music. But you loved the slow grinding tempos and the strong backbeats that were so fun to dance to, even if you and your bandmates were the only ones who’d ever sing or dance to them.

Until, of course, you changed a radio station one day and suddenly heard that very same rhythm and blues from some internationally known band called The Beatles. “Well,” you said, turning to your bandmates, “if some pasty English boys can play it on the radio, why can’t we?” So the band began booking gigs at local bars, then theaters, then across the world as its popularity grew. All the while, you fell in love with the English band, buying every new record and learning your favorites on guitar.

And here you were on tour in Britain years later, living a dream you could barely believe. A giddy smile spreads across your face as you realize the enormity of being here at all, thousands of miles away from home and singing the song that started it all. Your fingers pluck the familiar strings and you feel yourself settle into a nostalgic beat.

Oh! Darling, please believe me I’ll never do you no harm…

When it’s over and you take your last bow, sweat beads your face and neck and you want nothing more than a cold shower and a bottle of champagne. The din of cheers and claps follows you into the wings of the stage where your manager waits with an odd smile on her face.

“Some people here to see you,” she says. You grab a cup of water from one of the assistants and down it like, well, water.

“I thought we weren’t letting fans backstage today.”

“Yes, but these aren’t the usual fans. They’re… you have to see for yourself.”

You set down the glass, already wishing you were in bed. “Look, Grace, I’m sorry but it’s just not a good time. I don’t care if it’s the Kennedy’s or Jesus Christ himself, tell them to come back later.”

“It’s been said that we’re bigger than Jesus, y’know.”

If you turned your head any faster you would’ve gotten whiplash. That familiar Scouse accent that you’ve only heard in records and interviews… but there was no way it was—

“John Lennon?” It’s your drummer, Thomas, who speaks. “You’re John Lennon. God, that’s unreal. I’m talking to John fucking Lennon.”

“Oh, don’t mind us, we’re just backdrop,” grumbles one of the other three. He’s got dark, intense eyes under heavy brows and a mop of hair. This is George Harrison in the flesh and blood, and he would seem very serious if it weren’t for his toothy, almost canine grin. You feel a thrill race down your spine from the almost predatory look that he gives you.

Kate, the bassist, peers over your shoulder. “Y’all are a lot shorter in person,” she comments. Then, quietly to you, “Close your mouth, honey. You’re catching flies out here.”

You really hope you’re not drooling. It’s no big deal, right? Except that your idols are standing right in front of your eyes, mop-tops and all. You suddenly become hyper-aware of how your hair is plastered to your face and yet somehow also sticking up in eighty different directions. Why didn’t you use more product? More importantly, why haven’t you said a single word yet? They must think you’re some kind of idiot. Okay, do something before it becomes awkward. A handshake! A handshake is good.

You stick out a trembling hand. “Hi,” you say, voice breathy and high like some kind of schoolgirl with a crush.

Too late, you realize that there’s no way all four of them can shake your hand, idiot, and you’ve already come up with four different ways to fake your own death and never speak to anyone again when Paul McCartney (Paul! Freaking! McCartney!) takes your palm with a gentle but steady grasp. He brings it to his lips in a mock bow, eyes peering up under fluttering eyelashes.

“M’lady.”

(Is this what cardiac arrest feels like?)

“Down, boy!” John pats the back of the bassist’s head, smirking, and before you can mourn the loss of his touch they’ve begun bickering like an old married couple.

A different hand takes yours. Thick, calloused fingers. Cold metal rings press into your skin. “Don’t mind them, they’re children. I’m Ringo.” And here was Ringo Starr with the signature grin. Something about his sweet, wide smile makes you relax instinctively. He’s just human, like you. They all are. Underneath the fame and fortune, you’re all just messy humans with a love for music. And with that realization, you let yourself settle back into your usual self.

“They’re not so bad,” you say. “I’ve seen worse. At least they’re potty trained, right?”

This gets an adorable laugh from him as well as George, the latter of which had been talking to Kate about guitars until now.

“Great job up there, by the way.” You blush at the compliment and George goes on, “Those are some wicked brilliant riffs! You’ve got to show them to me sometime.”

“What, and let you steal our band’s secrets? You’ll have to try a little harder than that, mister.”

The three of you fall into an easy banter, mostly gushing about each others’ musicianship. Eventually, John and Paul break their fight, realizing that they’re no longer the center of attention.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” John says a little breathlessly, still laughing from something Paul said. You try not to notice how pink his cheeks are or the way his hair falls perfectly into his eyes from the toustling. “Say, why don’t we take this somewhere with a booth and at least three pints of alcohol?”

“There’s a pub two blocks down,” Paul chimes in, “and they always let us take the back door. The fans can get crazy, y’know.”

Pru, the other lead vocalist, swings an arm around your shoulder and answers before you can. “Sounds boss. I’m ready to split if you are, mop-tops.”

They look confusedly at one another and you huff, elbowing her in the ribs. “What she means is that we’d be delighted to go. Right, Pru?”

She scoffs something along the lines of stuffy Brits but nods. With that, the two bands begin making their way to the exits, melding into one raucous group of overlapping conversations. Before you can make it there, however, your manager grabs you by the arm and looks you in the eye with a steely glare.

“I better not being seeing your face in the papers tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

“And be back at the hotel before three! You’ve all got interviews in the morning and I do not want another situation like Toronto on my hands. You hear me?”

“That reporter was a sexist pig and I meant what I said. Also, I wasn’t that hungover!”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” George pipes up, “We’ll get her back in one piece. Maybe two, if we’re unlucky.”

You pat Grace’s hand and her glare softens. “Alright, get outta my sight.” She waves a hand and walks off, already rattling off instructions a mile a minute at some poor intern.

“Is yours like that too?” you ask, looking after Grace fondly as she picks up a costume rack without slowing down. If the terrified look on the intern’s face is any indication, she’s still berating him to high hell.

“Honestly,” George replies, “I think all managers are. Mum away from home, y’know. Eppy’s always right and it’s annoying as hell.”

You share a knowing smile before surging on to catch up with the group already at the door. John’s at the lead. Elbowing your way through, you make your way to his side.

“It’s a side entrance so it shouldn’t be too bad,” he says, pushing on the handle.

Immediately, a barrage of sound smacks you in the face hard enough to do a double-take. Apparently, you and every other person in London knew about the side entrance because you’re met with a sea of clamoring fans. Heads turn toward the opened door in a mesmerizing, horrifying ripple of motion. Someone mutters a heartfelt fuck under their breath. It’s probably you.

“There she is!” a girl screams.

“I love you! I LOVE YOU!”

“Is that the Beatles?”

“MARRY ME PAUL! I WANT YOUR BABIES!”

Amidst the chaos, someone intertwines their fingers in yours. It’s John. He looks down at you with a boyish grin and, not for the first time, you lose a bit of yourself in his gaze. The other three boys share the same wild glint in their eyes. He leans close until his lips brush your ear and for a moment you let yourself believe that you’re alone with him and nobody else.

“This is the part where we run, darling.”

And so you do.

notes: because i’m horny for music history, i spent way too much time researching oh! darling’s musical composition. the song is heavily influenced by new orleans rhythm and blues as well as louisiana swamp blues, music styles originating from african-americans/creoles/cajuns in the 50s (read more about it here!). so in my mind, reader is of the same ethnic background as the music she creates, but you’re free to interpret it however you want! 

[ciestessde]

NOT My Hero Academia: Part 1 – Ch.9

"WE'LL PROCEED TO THE AFTERNOON PORTION AFTER A ONE-HOUR LUNCH BREAK! SEE YOU THEN!!" We could still hear both announcers as their voices faded out: "HEY, ERASERHEAD. WANNA GRAB SOME FOOD?" "I'm taking a nap." "WHA-?"

.

As we walked off the field, everyone drifted from our cavalry teams and back into our friend groups.

"This sucks," said Tsuyu, "But congrats all the same Mina." "Bakugo only picked me as a counter-strategy against Todoroki's ice," Mina replied, rubbing the back of her neck, "This win doesn't really say anything about my strength."

"Iida, you were so awesome, keeping us away from the other teams like that!" Uraraka praised, miming Iida's running. "Oh, no," Iida waved away her praise, "With your zero gravity and Tokoyami's dark shadow, it was a simple matter of paying attention to the different teams' locations relative to our own." "Geeez!!" Kirishima groaned, punching Iida in the arm, "And I wanted to win so badly!!" "Hey, at least we're moving on, right?" Mina cheered him up.

Todoroki cut-in, "It's Midoriya who deserves the praise, for getting such a high score in the first place," he turned to me, "And I imagine it was you who came up with that strategy as well." I rubbed the back of my head, blushing, "It was nothing, really. I mean…"

I started murmuring, "yeah, getting first place in the race was kinda tough, but the cavalry battle wasn't actually so difficult, since I had the ideal team and all, and-" Kirishima smacked me on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "You gotta stop it with all that! You did awesome, man! Own it! All that murmuring isn't manly!" "Yeah!" agreed Mina, pretending to be a photographer, "A hero's gotta show their stuff! Smile and wave for the camera!"

"Yeah, Deku!" Uraraka beamed at me, "We wouldn't have gotten first place if it wasn't for you!" I blushed even more deeply. "Hey, you wanna eat lunch together Iida?" She asked, turning her attention to him.

'I think…' I reflected, as I went to eat with my friends, 'this might be the best day of my life, so far.'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the students filed back into the stadium after lunch, Present Mic announced that those not continuing in the competition could still participate in a different activity. "HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS THIS LITTLE RECREATIONAL COMPETITION!" He said to the audience, "ONCE THAT'S OVER, WE'RE ON TO THE FINAL EVENT. BETWEEN THE 15 MEMBERS OF THE FOUR WINNING TEAMS… WE'LL HAVE A FORMAL TOURNAMENT!! A SERIES OF ONE-ON-ONE BATTLES!!"

"A tournament huh?" said Kirishima, "So we'll be up in that ring I see on TV every year!" "Was it a tournament last year too?" Mina asked. Sero replied, "The format's always different, but most years involve some kind of head-to-head competition. Last year, it was foam sword fighting."

From the small stage in front of the remaining competitors, Midnight explained this year's competition, "The matchups will be decided by drawing lots." She held up a box labeled "Lots." "Once that's settled, we'll move on to the festivities and then the tournament itself! It's up to each of you 15 finalists whether or not you participate in the fun. I expect some of you would rather take a breather and save your strength.

"Now, let's start with the first-place team…" Midnight moved, about to step down from the stage so the students could pick from the box- When she was interrupted. "Um… Excuse me," Ojiro raised his hand, "I'd.. like to drop out."

There was chatter from all over the stadium, everyone wondering why he'd give up an opportunity to be noticed by the pro heroes. "The Cavalry Battle…" Ojiro lowered his arm slightly, not looking anyone in the eye, "I have no memories of anything that happened up until the tail end. It's probably his quirk that did it…"

Izuku looked around for -- who he assumed to be -- Shinso, the guy he remembered seeing Ojiro team up with and the one their team was named after. He spotted him standing alone, hands in his pockets and also not looking anyone in the eye. He wasn't even looking at Ojiro.

"I know this is a great opportunity. And I know how stupid it must seem to throw it away… But this final tournament…" He looked at his fist, his face tense, "Everyone else made it here by their own strength. Yet I'm standing here, and I don't even know how or why. I just can't take it."

"You're thinking about it too hard!" Toru tried to cheer him up, waving her gloves placatingly, "Just show what you're made of in the tournament!" "By that logic, I shouldn't really be here either!!" added Mina.

Ojiro lowered his head into his hand, shaking. "No… I'm talking about my pride, here… I don't think it's right."

.

After a few moments' pause and muttering from the crowd, Present Mic said, "WE HAVE A STRANGE TURN OF EVENTS…" "What will the coordinator, Midnight, decide?" Aizawa prompted.

"How naive and green… I… Like it!!" Midnight cracked her whip, grinning, "Ojiro has officially withdrawn! That brings us to an even 14 competitors!!" The screen lit up, a bracket with names displayed on it. "Here are the new matchups!"

The first bracket consisted of Izuku vs Shinso, Todoroki vs Sero, and Iida vs Hatsume; the second bracket was Kirishima vs Kaminari, Mina vs Aoyama, Tokoyami vs Yaoyorozu, and Uraraka vs Bakugo. 'If I win my first match… My second's against Todoroki!' Izuku thought.

'But before that…' "Shinso…" "Izuku Midoriya," came a voice from behind him, "That's you, yeah?"

Before Izuku could respond, there was a hand covering his mouth. It was Ojiro. "Midoriya!! That guy… Don't answer him." "?!"

.

"NOW LET'S SET ASIDE THE TOURNAMENT FOR THE TIME BEING… AND GET ON WITH THE THRILL-A-MINUTE FESTIVITIES!"

.

Once Shinso had walked away, Ojiro asked to talk with Izuku alone, leading him to one of the competitor prep rooms.

And explained his theory.

"A mind-control quirk?" Izuku gaped, "How can I hope to win against that?!" "My loss might be your gain. My memories cut out from the instant I replied to him," he said, tapping his head with his finger, "That's the trick, I think." "So…" Izuku murmured, "It's all over if I slip up and say anything to him…"

Izuku gave a small shiver. If that was the case, he was impressed. That was a powerful tool Shinso had, alright! "Not necessarily," Ojiro said, "It doesn't seem like such an almighty ability.

"Remember how I said I didn't remember anything up until the end?" Izuku nodded. He'd thought that was odd. "When Shinso had us run past to nab Tetsutetsu's headband… I think I must've bumped into Tetsutetsu's formation… 'Cause that's when I snapped out of it. I was suddenly aware of what was happening!" "So it was undone by physical contact?" Izuku put a hand to his chin, his mind already comparing and weighing strategies. "That seems very likely," Ojiro nodded, his chair creaking as he leaned back, "That said, I have no idea how strong the contact needs to be. And in a one-on-one match, of course you can't expect any outside help.

"Anyway, that's all I can tell you." Ojiro got up to leave, and Izuku rose to meet him. "No, that's awesome! Thanks!" "No problem! Uh-… Forgive me if I'm out of line, but…" Ojiro held out his fist, "Win this one for me."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Before I knew it, the recreational activities were over. It was my turn; time to face my first serious opponent outside of a classroom.

"HEY, GUYS. ARE YOU READY?! YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH HELL TO GET HERE!! BUT NOW IT'S TIME FOR THE ONE-ON-ONE TOURNAMENT!!" My heart was racing. But… I felt oddly calm, too. … Prepared. "YOU'VE ONLY GOT YOURSELF TO RELY ON!! EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT A HERO, THIS SAYING HOLDS TRUE! YOU KNOW IT!! SPIRIT, TECHNIQUE, STRENGTH, WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE!! USE 'EM ALL AND SHOW US YOUR BEST!!"

Shinso, the audience, and I, all had to wait a few more tense seconds as Cementoss put the finishing touches on the arena. Then… we walked out.

"THE FIRST MATCH!! MAKING A SCARY FACE, AND WITH THE EXCELLENT PERFORMANCE TO BACK IT UP, IT'S IZUKU MIDORIYA, FROM THE HERO COURSE!! VERSUS… SORRY, BUT THIS GUY HASN'T REALLY DONE ANYTHING TO STAND OUT YET! IT'S HITOSHI SHINSO, FROM GENERAL STUDIES!!" My ears were ringing from the sheer volume of the crowd's cheering. Evidently, they were looking forward to this event. … I supposed I couldn't blame them. "THE RULES ARE SIMPLE! WIN BY KNOCKING YOUR OPPONENT OUT OF THE RING, IMMOBILIZING THEM OR GETTING THEM TO SAY 'I GIVE UP'!

"BRING THE PAIN!! WE'VE GOT OUR GOOD OLD RECOVERY GIRL ON STANDBY!! AND FIGHT DIRTY IF YOU MUST! 'ETHICS' HAVE NO MEANING HERE!!" Cementoss made himself a throne of stone where he could watch the entire arena. '"Ethics have no meaning"...? Isn't this a "hero" fight…?'

I didn't have time to follow that train of thought. "WELL, OF COURSE, GOING FOR THE KILL IS A NO-NO!! YOU'LL BE DISQUALIFIED! BECAUSE A TRUE HERO'S FISTS FLY ONLY WHEN IN THE PURSUIT OF VILLAINS!"

"'I give up,' huh?" Shinso said, "Get it, Izuku Midoriya? This battle's going to test your strength of will." The look in Shinso's eyes… It looked familiar to me, somehow… "If you've got any kind of vision for your future, there's no sense in worrying about how you get there."

"NOW LET'S GET THIS THING STARTED!!" Shinso's voice overlapped with Present Mic's: "Like that monkey, babbling about his stupid pride."

"READYYYYYYYYY!! START!!"

"What kind of dumbass throws away a chance like this?"

Not responding was turning out to be more difficult than I imagined. 'Save it for later! I MUSTN'T -' I kept reminding myself, '- I can't. Say. ANYTHING right now!' I told myself the best way to protect my friend's honor… 'I can't lose this!! What I need to think about now…'

.

While the two of us were just standing there, the audience unable to hear Shinso's taunting, some unexpected commentary came from above us. "I mentioned that that entrance exam was completely irrational," Aizawa explained to the crowd and Present Mic, "This kid is a perfect example of why." "Hmm? What's that?" Present Mic responded to Aizawa at a lower volume than his usual commentary. "Here are the simple specs on these two. I've got them here because we knew this would be a quirk versus quirk battle. In theory, anyway."

The sound of paper shuffling could be heard. "Shinso failed the practical part of the exam, so he lost a spot in the hero course. He got into general studies, though, and that's all he could have hoped for. His quirk is extraordinarily powerful, but… Given the format of the practical exam… his ability didn't help him out. "And yet, someone with no quirk at all managed to get past it!"

"That's right," Shinso was talking again, "Thanks to my quirks nature, I couldn't enter the golden gates!" That familiar look in Shinso's eyes intensified.

And suddenly… I realized what it was.

"But you get it. You're not naturally blessed, either. So I don't really have anything against you… That said, I'm not giving up." I swallowed nervously. 'I do get it. That's how I used to think too. But…' I realized… that I should really… just get this over with.

'… right. I… I am blessed. Even if it's NOT "natural."'

"Those people…" Shinso's expression turned furious -- hateful even. And suddenly… It stopped looking familiar. "Born with their awesome quirks… Getting to follow all their dreams!!"

'I'm blessed… by the people in my life! By Master… And by my friends! And that's… exactly why… ' Shinso took a step toward me, "Say something already!" 'That's why I'm… not gonna lose!!'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Abruptly, Izuku charged at Shinso. 'Sorry. I really wish I didn't have to do this.' It wasn't a surprise. It couldn't be. Of course Shinso tried to run, to fight… Nonetheless, with the large gap in their training, experience, and strength…

It was a simple matter for Izuku to overpower Shinso… 'I don't… have anything against you either!' … and throw him out of the ring.

After a brief pause out of shock at the sudden… anticlimactic victory, Midnight announced, "Shinso is out of the ring!! Midoriya… moves on to the second round!!" "IZUKU MIDORIYA MOVES ON TO THE SECOND ROUND!!" Present Mic repeated, his tone of voice just a tad surprised. "GOODNESS GRACIOUS! WE'RE OFF TO AN EVENTFUL START! PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR OUR FIERCE COMPETITORS!"

.

As Shinso got up -- before he could walk away -- Izuku asked the question that had been burning in his mind, "Shinso… Why do you wanna be a hero so badly?" Without even pausing to think, Shinso responded, "We don't get to choose the things we naturally admire."

"...!" Izuku froze. Surprised, and… confused. 'His feelings… They're the same as…' Izuku looked up into the stands… but couldn't spot him. 'I still admire All Might…

'… Or…' Confused because, at the lack of feeling in his chest, he had to wonder, 'Do I…?'

Izuku was broken from his internal debate, "You were awesome out there, Shinso!" Shinso's classmates were cheering him from the stands. "You had us on the edge of our seats!" "You're the shining star of us general studies guys!" "You did just as well as the guy who got third in the obstacle course!"

Izuku smiled; it was right that they cheer Shinso. He'd done wel- "Why is that quirkless kid in the Hero Course and not Shinso? He has such a strong quirk." '...!'

.

Far away, All For One smirked. 'That's it. Listen to what the crowd is saying…'

.

"That quirk would be great against villains. I wish I had it…" "What the hell's U.A. thinking? Putting him in general studies…" "Well, they can only admit so many. That's just how it is." "There's only so much you can do… when there's such a large gap in their battle experiences. What a shame… A big loss to the Hero Course, not having a quirk like that."

Shinso's classmates heard it too, "You're awesome!" "Hear that, Shinso?" '… Right.' Izuku thought, 'Of course that's how they-'

"They'll consider transfers to the hero course depending on the results here." Izuku was interrupted again. Snapped out of his thoughts this time by the sound of Shinso's voice. "Remember that. Maybe I failed this time, but… I'm not giving up." His voice was filled with determination, although the hatred wasn't completely gone. "I'll show them I've got what it takes to make the hero course, and I'll become a greater hero than all of them."

Without thinking, Izuku responded, "Hang on. I-" 'Oh! He got me… But why? The match is already over…' "People who respond to me tend to stiffen up like that…" Shinso looked over his shoulder at Izuku, grinning. "It'd be easy to mess everything up for you now… So just promise me…"

He released him. "… you won't lose in a sorry way out there." This time, Izuku responded with just a smile and a nod.

That hatred… 'He… probably has his reasons…'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Beginning]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Read my original book, Crossroad of Infinity for free right here on Tumblr, on my website, or on AO3!

[benditlikepress]

believe in love (even if set in fear)

hey its jess coming back at ya with another 6k+  ““““mini fic””””

do I spend all my free time writing about tony and ziva touching hands and having important conversations? perhaps. except this time it's also christmas

@coffeedepablo tagging you in everything i ever write from now on even when it’s a hot mess

merry christmas everyone!!

also available on ao3 i love kudos and comments <3

“.. And because I speak English sometimes they said I’m extra good.”

Tali had been proudly explaining to Tony and Ziva how impressed her teachers were with her parts in the winter concert ever since they picked her up after the dress rehearsal that morning. They were on their way back to school for the afternoon performance, and (according to her) she been given a lot to do considering she wasn’t a native speaker. Her nerves were evidently jangling between her bursts of conversation.

Tali’s winter concert was apparently a Very Big Deal, and there were songs to sing and a dance to learn and a xylophone to play and even a few lines of a speech that Tali had sworn Tony to secrecy over, refusing to let Ziva be spoiled for before the day itself.

Tali was in her final year of the French equivalent of kindergarten, and the nursery was attached to the school she would be attending from next September. The winter concert was a joint affair, with students from both areas of the school taking part. It wasn’t a Christmas celebration so much as it was a new years’ one, a way to mark the end of the year and celebrate the holidays before the children went home to their families.

While the concert itself wasn't Christmas-themed (it was Ziva's understanding that French schools didn't celebrate religious holidays), but it was difficult not to feel the spirit as Tali trotted down the pavement in front of them wrapped in a winter coat and ear muffs.

Ziva had obviously never celebrated Christmas on a personal level, but she had gotten used to the shared traditions after her years spent living in the US. She was looking forward to spending it with Tony and Tali this year, knowing how excited her daughter was for both her grandfather and Santa to visit.

Even more special was the fact that Christmas and Hanukkah were overlapping. Tony had been a little embarrassed when he'd explained he'd tried his best to teach Tali about Judaism and was worried he'd fumbled over himself a few times, but now she was back Ziva was more than happy to teach both him and Tali about the holiday celebrations she'd revelled in growing up. There would be countless Hanukkah’s to celebrate in the future - and Christmases, and Passovers, and birthdays, and every other holiday imaginable. Ziva didn't plan on missing a single one ever again.

“Who will watch?”

Ziva was still getting used to this habit of Tali’s - her quick changes in trail of thought, questions hitting like whiplash. Tony was always unfazed.

“Everyone’s parents will be there like we’re going to be.”

“A lot?”

Tony hummed before answering. “I think so, yeah.”

His honesty didn’t seem to reassure Tali, and while she was still a little giddy it was clear her nerves about performing in front of a big crowd were building further.  

“Try not to think about that, just think about Aba and I watching. What’s important is that you enjoy yourself. You know we will cheer you the whole time.”

“But it’s important! What if I mess up?”

"Last year she was only in 1 song and dance, this is a big deal." Tony confirmed his daughter's assertions, and though Ziva had always seen a similarity in nature between them when Tali was young she was struck by how much the two of them took after each other now after years in each other's pockets. “But you still don’t need to be nervous, I know you’re going to crush it.”

Ziva had already seen that she and Tony had different styles of parenting – she tried to be more rational to reassure, whereas he was more emotive, empathising with what was happening. Ziva wondered if that was solely his nature or if it came from the two of them being alone together for so long. He was good at being what people needed him to be. Ziva knew; he'd done the same for her enough times, even if she'd thrown it back in his face regrettably on a few occasions.

There was something intensely attractive about Tony like this – maybe it was biological, an innate response to seeing him be so affectionate and connected to Ziva’s child. To their child, this part of them that they held above anything else. They were both acutely aware of this new connection, both seeking out each other’s eyes almost as much as they did Tali’s when the three of them were together. Disbelieving, almost – wanting to check the other was still there, that this was really their new normal after years of to-and-fro and then years of nothing at all.

She increasingly found herself fighting the urge to kiss him, though that wasn’t exactly a new development. The fact that sometimes she did kiss him? Well, that was still new; a novel action that made her feel a tiny pinch of uncharacteristic nerves whenever she leaned in.

“They’re closing the gates!” Tali suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the end of the road where a teacher could be seen removing the bolt that kept the gate open from the ground. She had evidently seen them coming and wasn’t intending on closing it until they got inside, but that didn’t stop Tony challenging Tali to a race and the two of them breaking out into a run up the hill, Tali squealing loudly as Tony tried to grab her to pick her up.

Tali brought out the playful side of Tony - the loud, energetic side that Ziva had spent so long pretending she hated. As she watched the two of them laughing as they approached the playground, it hit Ziva again how normal this felt. She and Tony hadn’t seen each other in six years, and yet so quickly they’d fallen into this dynamic that was both so familiar and yet so new, the feeling both natural and exciting in equal measure.

Ziva ducked past the teacher on the gate with a smile as the woman looked amusedly at where Tony and Tali had just run to inside the building. It took Tony a while to catch his breath back, both age and a few years away from being a field agent having taken a natural toll on his fitness. Ziva watched him as he put his hands on his thighs briefly, her raised eyebrows meaning a verbal mocking wasn’t needed.

“Why don’t you try chasing her, see how you can keep up?”

“I probably would not be close to a heart attack.”

Tali proudly pointed out her place in the cloakroom to Ziva, and she helped her daughter remove her outer clothing and hang it up.

They dropped her off at the door to her classroom and she ran inside, clutching the bag containing her costume. Ziva watched through the window in the door as a teacher came up to Tali and spoke to her with a wide smile, taking the bag from her and encouraging her to sit with the others on the carpet.

Ziva started to walk back down the corridor but Tony flicked his head back at the classroom door a couple of times.

“Are you nervous?” Ziva asked with a little amusement in her voice, watching Tony twitch.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous.” He dismissed her with a familiar cockiness, which soon faded. “OK, maybe a little. I think she inherited your public speaking genes. I hope she doesn’t barf.”

“She will be fine. She told me you practiced with her every morning on the way to school. You are your daughter's father, yes?"

"I don't.. think that's how that goes, but I get what you mean. This way."

Tony led Ziva a different route through the school towards the upper school reception. As they approached Ziva saw 30 or 40 parents already milling around, some with babies in pushchairs, and when she looked out through the main doors many more were making their way towards the school.

A woman called out Tony's name and he looked towards the front of the group where a small circle of adults had gathered. Ziva thought a few of them looked familiar as parents from Tali's class and the way they greeted Tony confirmed as much.

Ziva’s eyes settled on Tony, the way he milled around with the other parents like he belonged. He did, of course – this was a new Tony, one Ziva hadn’t got to know yet. One who never missed a school function and stayed in every night helping his daughter practice her parts. His French was near-perfect now, which shouldn't have been surprising but perhaps was because Ziva could remember his occasional clumsiness surrounding foreign affairs in the past.

“Are you going to introduce us?” A middle-aged man with glasses and a pin-stripe scarf suddenly acknowledged Ziva’s presence beside Tony. Tony turned to Ziva with a smile, stepping back a little to encourage the others to greet her.

“This is Tali’s mom, Ziva.”

“You’re Tali’s mother? It’s nice to meet you at last, Tony said you’ve been away working for a long time. I’m Charles, this is my wife Marie. We’re Amelie’s parents.”

“Yes, I have. The project I was working on was a particularly long and difficult one, but it has finally been put to bed. I am here to stay now.” Ziva parroted the practiced line with a polite smile as she shook hands proffered to her and let the names of the other parents wash over her. She’d get the hang of it eventually.

As the reception area continued to fill with parents, the conversation devolved into a discussion about the weather and in-jokes and references that flew over Ziva’s head. She remained quiet – this type of socialising had never exactly been her wheelhouse. Tony was less silent but still quiet, his hand occasionally reaching out to touch the small of Ziva’s back. Once or twice the movement made her look up at his face instinctively, and they shared a private smile as the conversation continued around them.

Ziva was thankful when the doors to the hall were eventually opened and they were able to make their way inside, filing in to take their seats on cold plastic chairs that were too close together. Ziva could see Tali sat to the right of the stage, dressed now in the star costume the rest of her class was also wearing, her gaze flickering through the crowd looking for her parents. Tony raised his hand in the air and Tali eventually caught sight of them, beaming and waving back.

A few minutes passed as parents continued to file in, and Ziva instinctively kept one eye on the entrances watching who was coming in. Old habits died hard, she supposed. The lights dimmed and she refocused back on the stage and on the man sat next to her who had been stealing glances in her direction since they sat down. A woman with a baby in her arms quietly made her way to sit on Ziva’s other side and she smiled politely at the woman’s apologetic expression at her almost-lateness, secretly praying the baby would stay asleep as the music began to play.  

After the first song, sung by all of the children, a man in his 60s stepped onto the stage. He introduced himself as the headteacher and began to talk about taking stock of the past year and looking forward to the future, with this being an opportunity to celebrate the children’s achievements in the last 12 months. He spoke with a strong accent and the speed at which he spoke was not particularly welcoming for non-native speakers. She was wondering how easy young children found him to understand when he abruptly finished talking and exited the stage again, sitting down in his seat at the front of the crowd.

“Tell me it isn’t just me that didn’t catch a word.”

Tony’s voice was low and his breath hot in her ear. Ziva smirked but put a hand on his thigh to implore him to pay attention as Tali’s class was being led onto stage.

Tali was stood on the front of two rows as the pianist began to play the next song and the teachers led them in a series of actions to go along with the song.

Ziva couldn't help but be reminded of her daughter’s namesake as she watched her beaming under the lights, tapping her feet and waving her hands when cued to. She was a little more bashful and clumsier on her feet than the older Tali had been, but the light emanating from her was unmistakable.

Seeing Tali be a part of something like this – how comfortable she was, how much she fitted in, how happy she was, offered Ziva the clarity she had needed for the past 3 years. Sending your child away to keep them safe was one of the most difficult decisions a person could ever have to make, but it all seemed worth it now she could see the smile on Tali’s face as she sung and danced with her friends.

Ziva lifted her hand from Tony’s leg to wipe away the tears she could feel welling in her eyes. The movement distracted Tony who turned towards her. She couldn’t imagine he could see she was crying in the light though the gesture surely gave her away and he took her hand from her face with his own. Ziva allowed him to intertwine their fingers and he placed their joined hands on his lap, grasping hers tightly.

There was a few more songs before children from different classes began to speak about winter. A class that looked younger than Tali all said things they liked about winter (“snow”, “chocolate”, “no school”), a much older class talked about their new year’s resolutions, and eventually Tali’s class was on stage again and one of them introduced that religious holidays are big around this time of year.

Ziva was slightly taken aback when Tali was the third child to stand up.

“Some people celebrate Hanukkah in winter. Hanukkah is the festival of lights and lasts 8 days. It’s a Jewish holiday and you eat special food and light candles.”

Tali's French was practiced, and the sound was still unexpected to Ziva's ears. She was still speaking fragmented English the last time Ziva had seen her before she sent her to DC. She spoke too quickly and held the microphone a little too close to her mouth, but the way she looked at Ziva proudly as she spoke eclipsed everything.

The boy next to Tali stood up and started talking about Diwali as Tony looked at Ziva expectantly. He ducked his head in close to her ear.

“Ever since you got back she’s been waiting for you to hear that. Making me practice every day. I think she was more concerned about impressing you more than about all the people watching.”

Ziva turned towards Tony, and as he backed his head away to allow her to talk into his ear she captured his face with her hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“I do not know what to say.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Did you tell her about Hanukkah food?”

“She’s a DiNozzo, she has priorities.”

The ownership sent another little jolt through Ziva’s system. She shuffled herself closer to Tony as Tali’s class continued to talk, and by the time the next song started her head was ghosting against the top of his arm.

Tali’s xylophone performance was next, and her part seemed to go without a hitch even if the same could not be said for the boy sat 2 people away from her who hit his notes seemingly whenever he was in the mood to. Her class was moved back to the side of the room then, and as the other classes took centre-stage Ziva couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to her daughter, watching her as she looked distractedly around the room and found ways to entertain herself.

The concert was longer than Ziva expected, though she wasn’t sure how much of that was reality and how much was down to the baby she was sat next to deciding to have an almighty crying fit that she could hear even as the mother apologetically took it outside and down the corridor. She sympathised with the young woman, knowing how difficult it could be when you’re in public alone and your baby is upset.

Tali herself had had a knack for waking up at the most inopportune moments, and Ziva had told Tony last week that it was her first inkling of something she had inherited from her father: an avid need for Ziva’s attention. Tony had laughed then, loud and incredulous, and had roped Tali into a playful defence rather than trying to deny it.

When the show was over, everyone split up again. The parents from Tali’s class had ended up stood in the area between the cloakroom and the classroom, the confined space making Ziva uncomfortable. Tali emerged fairly quickly, still dressed in her star costume and struggling to hold her uniform that she for some reason had decided not to put into her costume bag. Ziva held her arms out to her and she ran over, accepting the hug giddily. When Ziva pulled back Tali immediately turned to Tony to get the same greeting from him, her hands still clutching her clothes reaching around his back where he had lowered down a little to meet her.

“You were great, sweetheart! Wasn’t she?” Tony asked Ziva with a smile, ruffling their daughter’s hair.

“It was very special Tali, we’re proud of you.”

“Did you see me talk about Hanukkah?”

“I did! Is that what you were keeping a secret from me?”

“Uh-huh. Aba said you would like it.”

“I loved it. Thank you.”

Ziva bent down to give Tali a kiss and the girl smiled brightly, showing her teeth. Tony took the clothes and bag out of her hand with an affectionate shake of his head and Tali willingly dropped them as the three of them pushed their way through the droves in the corridor and towards the cloakroom.

Tali struggled for a moment to find her coat amongst the others, eventually locating it having dropped on the floor. She began to pull it onto her arms slowly but before she had finished a group of 3 girls, including Amelie whose parents Ziva had met earlier, ran up to her. Amelie whispered in Tali’s ear with her hands covering her mouth.

“Can I go to Amelie’s house?” Tali asked, looking up at Tony and Ziva in turn. Ziva’s first instinct was to say no, to take her home and sit on the couch cuddling her for the rest of the day, but she could see the excitement in her eyes as Amelie and the other girls chattered away behind her.

Perhaps Tony could sense Ziva’s reluctance, because he told Tali she could go for an hour or two but then they would be picking her up so they could go back home and have a pizza night to celebrate.

Tony and Ziva spoke briefly to Charles and Marie, who confirmed they were taking the 4 girls back home with them, and after saying their goodbyes they were soon back out in the biting cold on the street.

“Home?”

“Not much point if we’re coming back out. C’mon, kid-free, the world is our oyster. We could go for a.. what kind of food gets eaten at 4pm?" Tony asked, more to himself. A lot may have changed, but some things never do.

"We could go for a hot drink and you can get a cake. My treat."

"Well, someone's in the holiday spirit. I know a place nearby."

The two of them began to walk down the hill, and Ziva tucked her coat tighter around her. The sky was clear which only added to the chill, already getting dark at such an early hour.

"So, what was the verdict?"

"You do realise you were not involved in the performance?"

"Maybe not in a literal sense, but I played a role."

"It was beautiful, Tony. Really. I think that is the first time I've attended something like that. I was not sure what to expect."

"Haven't I ever forced you to watch Love Actually?"

“Not that I can recall. Still, I am sure that watching Tali’s in the future will give me all  of the insight I need.”

“Yeah, they can be a little full-on. I’m glad I had company.”

“Oh, you seemed to be getting on fine on your own. You know, I did not expect this from you." Ziva looked at Tony’s profile as she spoke with an amused smile. The tips of his ears were turning pink from the cold. He turned to her with a confused expression.

"What?"

"Are you on the PTA?"

Tony guffawed at Ziva, and for a split second looked self-conscious. "It doesn't hurt to be polite, you know."

"I am polite. You are a member of their clique."

"No, c'mon. I kinda got adopted on the first day. Tali cried a lot. The moms took pity on me; single dad who clearly had no idea what he was doing."

"Hm, I am sure they did."

"Ha, no, believe me. They just see me as the perfect opportunity to interfere.”

“You could just tell them you are fine without their input.”

“You’re here now, I’m sure you’ll keep them in line. No violence.”

Even now, it was easy to make jokes like that. In spite of everything that had changed between them, and all the water under the bridge, Tony could never resist an opportunity to make a comment about Ziva’s fighting ability. She’d long-since decided to take it as a compliment.

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

The coffee shop was only a five-minute walk from Tali's school. It was fairly quiet, and Ziva implored Tony to sit down on two armchairs by the window while she fulfilled her promise.

The woman behind the till turned around to get a plate for Tony's cake and as she did Ziva turned back towards the window to look at the man in question. He had already been looking her way and turned his head towards the window guiltily, an uncharacteristically bashful move that made her smile. They were still getting used to all of this, redefining the parameters of a relationship that had never stayed in one state for too long.

Ziva placed Tony's cake on the table and his face lit up. She looked outside as he began to eat; the clouds looked darker from in here, and there was a patch of condensation running along the bottom of the window-frame. A woman in a bobble hat ran past, pushing a child in a pram.

"It's nice to get some time alone."

Ziva turned back to Tony, who was looking at his cake rather than her. “Why is that?”

“Just..” Tony sucked on the fork contemplatively for a moment before smiling. “I don’t know, did you ever think we’d be here? Living in Paris, going to our daughter’s recitals.”

Ziva returned his smile. “I guess it is a little out of character for us.”

“I don’t think it’s out of character. It’s just-” Tony paused briefly while the waitress placed their drinks on the table in front of them. He offered her a quick smile and didn’t seem to notice her blush. “It’s just different now. Maybe we’re just different now.”

“Did you ever imagine this for yourself? A family?”

Ziva’s tone was conversational, and perhaps it didn’t have as much weight behind it as it used to when they would try to discuss it back in the day, because Tony barely hesitated before he started talking.

“I don’t know. For a long time, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Then I started to think I’d left it too late. Funny how things work out.”

Ziva felt like kissing him then, but the table in-between them prevented any action and so she looked at him instead – openly, transparently. It took only a second or two before Tony smiled at her gaze.

“When I had to send Tali to live with you,” the smile dropped slowly from his face as the tone of the conversation changed, “I did not worry about you for even a second. For as much as I worried about every other aspect of it, I knew you would do everything to take care of her and keep her safe. It is in your nature. And now I have got to see the way the two of you are with each other. Like you are made for each other.”

A moment’s silence passed between them. They had spent so much of the early days of their relationship avoiding conversations like this one, and even now the vulnerability felt a little like a novelty.

There was no need for a charade anymore. And even if it was sometimes a battle to push through the instinct for resistance, they were both doing well to remember that.

Neither of them looked away.

“Something on your mind today?”

“Not especially.”

“You sure?”

“I suppose I am just thinking about the holidays. I’m happy to be back here for them. Happy to be back here in general.”

“Well, we’re happy to have you back. Me and Tali.”

“She is lucky to have a father like you.”

“I know neither of exactly had a wholesome blockbuster- style relationship with our fathers growing up. I don’t want that for my kid.”

“She is lucky.” Ziva confirmed, holding Tony’s eyeline for a long moment, the things Ziva wasn’t saying passing between them. She broke it by taking a sip from her drink, and Tony returned to eat more of his cake.

“Is there anyone you want to visit for the holidays?”

“Do not think so, I would rather spend time settling in. I will call Schmiel, maybe I will visit him in the new year. I would feel guilty asking him to travel here at his age.”

“You gonna call Boss?”

“He is not your boss, Tony. But yes, I will. You should too.”

“Y’know, there’s these fancy new things now called speaker-phone. Maybe we can call McGee and ask him to teach us.” Ziva rolled her eyes quickly at Tony but the affection died slowly from his face, being replaced with a thoughtful sincerity. He used his fork to cut a piece of cake and played with it absently for a moment. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"What did I say earlier?"

"At school. You told Charles you're here for good."

The question surprised Ziva a little. "Yes, I meant it."

"OK."

"I can understand why you are apprehensive."

Tony exhaled in what might have been a laugh. "I kinda feel like an asshole."

"You shouldn't. It is only natural."

"It's not just about the Sahar thing. It's.. everything. I need to know that you aren't going to run away again."

"I could not leave again, Tony." She could say more than that, try to stress just how much she meant it, but trying to add more would dilute the feeling. It was as simple as that. Walking away was categorically impossible at this point.

"Because of Tali?"

"Not just because of Tali."

"OK. Good. I don't think I have another round-the-world treasure hunt in me."

Ziva smiled at the humour masking the very real admission. Tony's hand had abandoned the fork and was resting on the table and she ran her fingers over his knuckles affectionately. "There is still so much I need to say to you. I have not even scratched the surface.” She looked up from his hands to his eyes, and he seemed to be waiting for her to continue. “I know that when I first got back we spoke a lot about why I hadn't told you about Tali, and what's been going on since I sent her to be with you. And I know we also spoke about-"

"How we feel about each other?” Tony filled in, looking up from where his head was slightly bowed. Ziva gave a relenting but brief smile.

"Yes, we did. And I think we are finally on the same page with that. But I really want you to understand this." Ziva took his hand between hers. "I realise I have done things in the past because I was scared. Because I did not think I deserved to be happy, that I deserved the care you showed for me. And I cannot sit here and say I am never going to think that ever again. But I am not going anywhere. There is nowhere else I would ever want to be except here with you, and with Tali. Do not think for a second that you are a secondary side-effect and I might change my mind again one day. I am done running away."

Tony held her gaze for a long moment. She stroked the back of his fingers and he looked down at them, smiling a little. “I trust you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I believe you. But in the interests of honesty..” Tony squeezed at her hand as though to get her attention, as if he didn’t have it ever since they sat down, “From now on, you’ve got to tell me if you ever feel that way. If you get scared, or freaked out, whatever. Please tell me so we can talk about it.”

“I will.” She meant it, truly. She knew it would be much harder in practice (and Tony was no fool), but she was more serious about this than she had ever been before. If the past couple of years had taught her anything, it was that this was where she belonged.

“Kay. Good talk.” Tony withdrew his hand from Ziva’s with a smile that made his eyes glisten, picking up his cup and taking a long sip. Ziva had always found that particular smile difficult to resist, and she was sure Tony knew the effect it had on her.

As much as he found herself looking at the lines by his eyes and the flecks at his temples, she realised he hadn’t actually really changed at all.

"Maybe when Senior gets here next week you and me can finally go on that date I’ve been meaning to ask you on for about 15 years." He spoke looking down at his drink, trying to seem more casual than evidently he was feeling inside.

"Is that your way of asking?"

"Kinda out of practice. I can promise to show you a good time, though. We can go for dinner and a movie and make small talk about each other’s families and jobs.”

"I feel sorry for any poor girl who went on a first date with you to see a film."

"Dinner. I'll pay. Who could say no to that?”

"You do not really expect me to say no?"

"You haven't exactly said yes."

“Yes, Tony. I will go on a date with you.”

“Ok, good. I’ll text you in the next few days to arrange something, and I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

Ziva looked up at Tony’s serious tone with an amused frown on her face, and he smiled a challenge at her. She bit back a chuckle.

“I will look forward to it. Although you may have to wait in the car – the man I live with has a little bit of a jealous streak.”

“Oh, I’m sure that isn’t true.”

“You would be surprised.”

They stayed in the coffee shop for another hour, easy conversation and stolen glances accompanied by periods of comfortable silence and people-watching. It was easy and peaceful; perhaps the first quiet afternoon they had had alone together since being reunited. The longer they stayed, though, the more Ziva checked her watch.

“Y’know, Tali’s been there before. She’s fine.”

“I know she is.”

“Just don’t want to let her go, huh?”

Ziva smiled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you kinda ignored my question.”

“Sorry,” Ziva shook her head, trying to shake herself out of the frame of mind. “It is not personal. I have only just got her back.”

“It’s ok to be nervous.” Tony shrugged as though it was nothing, but the words meant more to Ziva than he could likely comprehend right now. Before she could speak he picked up his second cup of coffee and tipped the cup upwards, finishing it in one gulp. “Come on, let’s go get her.”

“Really?”

“I’m getting hungry, and we promised a pizza.”

Tony got up from his seat and shrugged his coat on. Ziva rolled her eyes as she went into her purse to retrieve a tip.

“I bought you a slice of cake barely an hour ago.”

“Nobody said I didn’t appreciate that.”

Tony held out his hand to help Ziva stand up, and when she put it in his he raised it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles with a charming grin.

It was still getting colder outside and Ziva didn’t leave the doorway until her coat was fully buttoned up while Tony stood on the pavement exclaiming about the wind.

Ziva went to do up her scarf but the wind had got the material caught in her hair. Before she could get frustrated Tony lifted her hair carefully, tucking it behind her ears. He grabbed the scarf by either end and used it to pull her into him, Ziva's eyes closing instinctively as their lips met. The kiss was surprisingly tentative and reassuring, and when Tony pulled back it took all of Ziva’s willpower not to immediately chase his lips down to reconnect with her own.

"I missed you." He said quietly, his face still hovering over hers.

“I missed you too.”

They’d repeated it to each other countless times since being reunited but the words still felt meaningful on her tongue, her heart jumping ever so slightly. Tony unexpectedly pulled her into a hug, his head tucking over hers. Ziva put her arms underneath his jacket and his body was warm, the feeling safe and familiar. He quickly pulled away.

“How are your hands so cold already?”

“No gloves.”

They started walking down the street, arms and sides brushing against each other.

"I could get you some. I still have to get your present."

"You do not have to, I'm Jewish."

"It's nice to have something to open. Have you got mine?"

"You seem confident you are getting one."

"I don't know, I think I've got everything I want already."

Tony grabbed Ziva’s hand and stopped her, and she turned towards him as he moved in sharply for another kiss, his tongue slowly making its way into her mouth as his hands raised to hold her face. Ziva’s expression when he pulled back made him smile as he turned back to continue walking down the street.  

"Good save."

“Thanks. I’m an expert at removing my foot from my mouth.”

“That must be a new skill you have learnt, because it’s the first I have heard of it.”

“You don’t have to make fun of me like a smitten kid on the playground anymore, we’re already dating.”

“You think that’s what I have been doing?”

Tony pulled a faux-disbelieving face. “Isn’t it?”

“If that is what helps you sleep at night.”

“I sleep just fine. You would know.”

“It is not too late for me to turn you down.”

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Vineyard at Painted Moon by Susan Mallery

 Emotion laden, deeply moving, intensely poignant, well crafted – this story grabbed me and didn’t let me go till I finished at 3am. I felt so much and at times wanted to jump into the pages to “fix” things knowing that the author would bring things right for at least some of the characters by the end of the book…or at least I hope she would! This is a story of love, loss, growth, endurance, values, goals and family. It is a keeper and one I would reread in the future.

 What I liked:

* Mackenzie:  dedicated, focused, interesting. She has been stymied for a while and may need to move on from the safe haven she has lived within for over a decade and a half. She has a rough time of it but comes through rather brilliantly in the end.

* Catherine: sister-in-law to Mackenzie, loving, kind, in tune with the earth, grounded, warm, creative…really liked her.

* Stephanie: sister-in-law to Mackenzie, divorced, mother of two teens, stuck in a rut and trying to move forward but it isn’t easy for her to do so. She is Mackenzie’s best friend and has been since college.

* Bruno: wealthy, attractive, investor, wine distributor, and intriguing. He is warm, a good friend, caring, communicates brilliantly and is perfect for the woman he ends up with.

* Kyle: a good father, professional, a bit selfish…divorced from Stephanie and father of her children

* Rhys: not a bad guy, married to Mackenzie, wants what is best for both of them, a bit heavy handed at times and sometimes rather clueless…and also selfish, perhaps.

* Georgio: a good man, loving, kind, generous, and perfect for the right woman – the boyfriend of Barbara (mother-in-law of Mackenzie)

* The close relationships that were friendly, warm, and caring.

* That there was growth in a number of characters.

* The dynamics between various individuals and groups.

* The way verbalization of feelings, thoughts, and insight into the characters

* Learning a bit more about the winemaking business.

* The setting – love that area of the world!

* All of it really except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Barbara: I won’t give details but if you read the book you will probably feel the same

* Lori: daughter of Barbara and quite a bit like her, I fear.

* The sadness I felt as I empathized with Mackenzie.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Definitely

 Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequen (HQN) for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

BLURB

MacKenzie Dienes's life isn't perfect, but it's as close as she could ever hope to get. Her marriage to Rhys, her best friend's brother, is more friendship than true love. But passion is highly overrated, right? And she loves her job as the winemaker at Bel Apres, her in-laws' vineyard. So what if it's a family business and, even after decades of marriage and incredible professional success, she's still barred from the family business meetings? It's all enough...until one last night spent together leads to an incredibly honest—and painful—conversation. Rhys suggests that they divorce. They haven't had a marriage in a long time and, while he wants her to keep her job at Bel Apres, he doesn't think they should be married any longer. Shocked, MacKenzie reels at the prospect of losing the only family she's ever really known...even though she knows deep in her heart that Rhys is right.

But when MacKenzie discovers she's pregnant, walking away to begin a new life isn't so easy. She never could have anticipated the changes it would bring to the relationships she cherishes most: her relationship with Barbara, her mother-in-law and partner at Bel Apres, Stephanie, her sister-in-law and best friend, and Bel Apres, the company she's worked so hard to put on the map.

MacKenzie has always dreamed of creating a vineyard of her own, a chance to leave a legacy for her unborn child. So when the opportunity arises, she jumps at it and builds the Vineyard at Painted Moon. But following her dreams will come at a high price—one that MacKenzie isn't so sure she's willing to pay…

  EXTRACT

Chapter One

“Not that what you’re wearing isn’t great, but the party starts in an hour.”

Mackenzie Dienes looked up from the grapevine she’d been studying, her mind still on the tight clusters of small, hard grapes that would, come late September, be ripe and sweet and ready for harvest. Between now and then, she would monitor their progress, willing them to greatness and protecting them from danger, be it mold, weather or hungry deer.

She blinked at the man standing in front of her, tall and familiar, with an easy smile and broad, capable shoulders.

“Party?” she asked, letting her thoughts of the vineyards go and remembering that, yes, indeed, it was the evening of the annual Solstice Party, hosted by the Barcellona family. As she was a Barcellona, by marriage if not by name, she would be expected to attend.

Wanted to attend, she reminded herself. It was always a good time, and Stephanie, her sister-in-law, worked hard to make it a perfect night.

“The party,” she repeated, her voice slightly more panicked this time, then glanced down at herself. “Crap. What time is it?”

Rhys, her husband, shook his head. “You really don’t listen when I talk, do you? We have an hour. You’ll be fine.”

She pulled off her gloves and shoved them into the left front pocket of her coveralls, then stepped behind Rhys and gave him a little push toward the flatbed truck he’d driven out to the west vineyards.

“You say that because all you have to do is shower and get dressed. I have to do the girl thing.”

“Which takes you maybe ten minutes.” He put his arm around her as they hurried toward the truck. “Happy with the grapes?”

“I think so,” she said, glancing toward the healthy vines growing on either side of them. “We might have to do some thinning in a couple of weeks, but so far, so good.”

As they slid onto the bench seat of the old truck, he glanced at her. She smiled, knowing there was a fifty-fifty chance he would call her out on her thinning statement. He was, after all, the vineyard manager. Technically all the decisions about the vineyard were made by him with her input, but not her instruction. As winemaker, she managed the grapes from the moment they were picked until the wine was bottled.

But at Bel Après, areas of responsibility often overlapped. Theirs was a large, boisterous family in which everyone had opinions. Not that Mackenzie listened to a lot of other ideas when it came to her wines, although as Rhys often pointed out, she was very free offering hers when it came to his work.

He drove along the dirt path that circled the vineyard, stopping by her truck. She slid into the cab, then followed him back to the family compound. The main road leading into Walla Walla was thick with tourists who wanted to enjoy the longest day of the year. She merged into the slow-moving traffic, doing her best to keep from glancing at the clock on the truck’s dashboard as she inched along.

Vineyards stretched out on either side of the road, flat on the left and rising toward the hills on the right. Bright green leaves topped sturdy trunks that had been carefully trained to grow exactly as she wanted them to. The rows were long and neat, and the spaces between them were filled with native grasses that held in moisture and protected the roots from the heat.

Looking at her healthy crop kept her mind off the fact that she and Rhys were going to be desperately late.

Twenty minutes later, she followed him off the highway onto a less crowded secondary road—a back way home. Five minutes after that, they parked the trucks by the processing buildings behind the big tasting room. Rhys had already claimed one of the golf carts the family used to get around. She slid in next to him and they took off toward the center of the property.

Bel Après Winery and the surrounding land had been in the Barcellona family for nearly sixty years. Rhys and his siblings were third-generation. The original main house had been updated several times. When Rhys and Mackenzie had married, Barbara, Rhys’s mother, had suggested they build themselves a house close to hers, rather than commute from town. Eager to stay in the good graces of her new mother-in-law, Mackenzie had agreed.

A large two-story home had been built. Barbara and Mackenzie had decorated every room, the act of choosing everything from light fixtures to doorknobs cementing their affection for each other.

A few years later, Stephanie, the second of Barbara’s four children, had gotten a divorce and moved back home with her two kids, requiring another house to be constructed. When the youngest of the three girls had married, the last house had been added. Only Lori, the middle daughter, still lived in the original home.

All four houses faced a huge central courtyard. Mexican pavers were shaded by vine-covered pergolas. The extended family used the space for big dinners and as a kids’ play area. If one of the women baked cookies, a cookie flag was hung out the front door, inviting anyone to stop by. At Christmas, a large tree was brought in from Wishing Tree, and for the annual Summer Solstice Party, dozens of long tables were brought in to seat the two hundred or so guests.

Rhys swung the golf cart behind the large main house, circling counterclockwise. Normally he would cut across the courtyard, but with all the party preparations, he had to go the long way. He pulled up at the rear entrance to their house and they dashed inside.

Mackenzie paused to unlace her boots and left them in the mudroom. Rhys did the same. They raced up the stairs together, separating at the landing to head to their individual en suite bedrooms.

Once in her bathroom, she started the shower. Thankfully, she’d already picked out the dress she would wear. She raced through a shower. After she dried off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dug out the scented body lotion Rhys had given her a couple of years ago. Why anyone would want to smell like coconut and vanilla was beyond her, but he liked it.

She walked into the large closet and opened her underwear drawer. To the right were all the sensible bikini panties she usually wore—to the left were the fancier ones for special occasions. She chose a black pair and slipped them on, then went to the second drawer and looked for the matching push-up bra. When it and the pads were in place and doing the best they could with her modest curves, she pulled on a robe and returned to the bathroom.

After plugging in her hot rollers, it took her only a few minutes to apply eyeliner and mascara. She was flushed from the day working outside, so she didn’t bother with any other makeup.

Her hair took a lot longer. First she had to dry the dark red shoulder-length waves, then she had to curl them. While the rollers were in place, she searched for a pair of black high-heel sandals that wouldn’t leave her crippled by the end of the night.

Those found, she opened her small jewelry box and pulled out her wedding set, sliding both the engagement ring and the wedding band into place on her left hand. Diamond stud earrings followed. She’d barely stepped into her sleeveless black dress when Rhys walked into the closet, fully dressed in black slacks and a dark gray shirt.

She sighed when she saw him. “See. You have it so much easier than me.”

“Yes, but in the end, you’re more beautiful. That should be worth something.”

“I’d rather have the extra time.”

She turned, presenting him with her back. He pulled up the zipper, then bent to collect her shoes. They retreated to her bathroom and together began removing the curlers.

“We’re late,” Mackenzie said, catching sight of his watch. “Your mom is going to be all snippy.”

“She’ll be too busy welcoming her guests.” The last of the curlers was flung onto the counter. Mackenzie fluffed her hair, then pointed to the bedroom.

“Retreat,” she said, reaching for the can of hair spray.

Rhys ducked to safety. She sprayed the curls into submission before running into the bedroom to escape the death cloud. Rhys was on the bench at the foot of the large bed. She sat next to him and quickly put on her shoes.

“Done,” she said, pausing to reacquaint herself with the seldom-used skill of walking in heels.

She grabbed her husband’s wrist. “Seven fifteen. Barbara’s going to kill us.”

“She’s not. I’m her only son and you’re just plain her favorite.”

“We weren’t ready exactly at seven. I can already hear the death-march music in my head. I want to be buried on Red Mountain.”

Rhys chuckled as he led the way downstairs. “In the vineyard? I’m not sure your decaying body is going to be considered organic.”

“Are you saying I’m toxic?” she asked with a laugh as they walked toward the front door.

“I’m saying you’re wonderful and I’d like us to have a good night.”

There was something in his tone, she thought, meeting his gaze. She’d known this man her entire adult life. They’d met over Christmas her freshman year of college. Her roommate, his sister Stephanie, had dragged Mackenzie home to meet the family. Grateful not to have to spend the holiday by herself, Mackenzie had gone willingly and had quickly found herself falling not only for her best friend’s hunky older brother but for the entire Barcellona family and the vineyards they owned. Barbara had been like a surrogate mother, and the vineyards, well, they had been just as magical as Rhys’s sexy kisses.

Now she studied her husband’s expression, seeing the hint of sadness lurking behind his easy smile. She saw it because she hid the same emotion deep inside herself. The days of stealing away for sexy kisses were long gone. There were no lingering looks, no intimacy. They had a routine and a life, but she was less sure about them still having a marriage.

“I’d like that, too,” she murmured, knowing he wasn’t asking them not to fight. They never did. Harsh words required a level of involvement they simply didn’t have anymore.

“Then let’s make that happen,” he said lightly, taking her hand in his and opening the front door.

  AUTHOR BIO

#1 NYT bestselling author Susan Mallery writes heartwarming, humorous novels about the relationships that define our lives―family, friendship, romance. She's known for putting nuanced characters in emotional situations that surprise readers to laughter. Beloved by millions, her books have been translated into 28 languages. Susan lives in Washington with her husband, two cats, and a small poodle with delusions of grandeur. Visit her at SusanMallery.com.

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Q and A with Susan Mallery on The Vineyard at Painted Moon

 1.      Where did inspiration for the book come from?

 The Vineyard at Painted Moon was really inspired by the gorgeous wine country of Washington State. My readers have told me that they love when my books have wish-you-were-there settings, like the tulip farms in Secrets of the Tulip Sisters and the monastery-turned-mansion of The Summer of Sunshine and Margot. So I knew I wanted to set my next hardcover somewhere that would give readers a beautiful, scenic escape—and this was well before I knew the book would come out during a pandemic, when we’re all trapped at home a lot more than usual.

 So I started daydreaming about beautiful settings, and I landed on Washington wine country. Breathtaking. Seriously, look it up.

 Every evening before dinner, Mr. Mallery and I have a glass of wine together and tell one another about our day. This daily ritual makes us feel close and connected even when life gets hectic, and it has led us to learn more about how wine is made. I thought it could be really interesting to write about a female winemaker, because this is still very much a male-dominated field. I asked myself, “What is the worst thing that could happen to a winemaker?”

 “What if,” I thought, “she lost the land she loved?”

 And not because of fire or natural disaster, but because of an emotional earthquake—Mackenzie Dienes is the winemaker at a family winery. But it’s her husband’s family. . . and their marriage is in trouble. She could stay if she’s willing to be nothing more than an employee for the rest of her life. But if she wants something more, something of her own, she’ll have to be brave.

 The Vineyard at Painted Moon is the story of Mackenzie’s search for happiness and self-fulfillment after divorce. With some pretty spectacular scenery thrown in. Oh, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.

 2.      What are your favourite scenes? Why?

 This is a tricky question for me to answer without spoilers, because my favorite scenes are the emotional turning points of the story. I don’t really want to reveal them here, as I think readers will want to experience them on their own. I will answer, but it’s going to be vague and somewhat frustrating. Teasers, rather than spoilers.

 I love the scene where Mackenzie and Rhys realize that their marriage is over. (That doesn’t count as a spoiler, since it’s revealed on the back cover of the book.) The way they come to the realization and move through the scene is completely unexpected and unlike any breakup scene I’ve ever written—or read, for that matter. It’s heartbreaking and poignant and beautiful and even a little funny. If you have a heart, it’ll make you cry. I think readers are going to fall in love with Rhys even as Mackenzie is accepting that she’s not in love with him anymore.

 One of my other favorite scenes is one that I’m not sure will stand out as much in readers’ minds. It’s a scene in which Mackenzie finds out just how highly she is esteemed by her colleagues in the wine world. She never knew. She never thought of working anywhere but the family winery—she was just so grateful to have a family through her husband, since she had none of her own. In this scene, nothing really changes but her perception—of herself, and of how people perceive her—but perception is reality. Suddenly, Mackenzie realizes that she has options. She can dare to dream.

 And that changes everything.

 3.      What was the hardest scene to write and why?

 At the risk of repeating myself, that scene in which Mackenzie and Rhys finally acknowledge that their marriage is over was certainly one of the hardest to write. The emotional intricacies of the situation were incredibly nuanced. I had to get it exactly right. Rhys is not a point-of-view character, so the whole scene is told from Mackenzie’s perspective, but I wanted the reader to understand and empathize with Rhys, as well. It’s a deeply emotional scene, and I’m very curious to see how readers will respond to it.

 4.      Do you have advice for me wanting to write in the same genre?

 Never give up. There are a lot of very talented writers who will never be published simply because they gave up trying. You never know if the next book will be the one. You have to want it enough to keep going.

 5.      Where did the idea for the title come from? It’s so original.

 Thank you! I almost never come up with the titles for my own books. My file names are just the first name of the main character, so the working title on this book was Mackenzie. When it’s time to title the book, the whole team makes suggestions—my editor, agent, assistant, the marketing department. It’s trickier now than it’s ever been because I’ve written a lot of books, and we don’t want the titles to be too similar. And yet they have to appeal to the same audience.

 All that said, I was the one to suggest The Vineyard at Painted Moon. I thought it would be appropriate to feature the beautiful setting in the title, since it plays such an important role in the book. I’m glad you like it!

 6.      Who is your favorite character and why?

 I love Stephanie and Four, Rhys’s sisters and Mackenzie’s best friends. They’re the kind of friend that every woman should have—and that every woman should be. Close female friendships are a hallmark of my books. In The Vineyard at Painted Moon, the friendships were especially complex because they were also sisters-in-law. . . soon to be exes. But at the end of the day, this truly is Mackenzie's story, so she would be the favorite.

 7.      What is your favorite book genre to read?

 For the most part, I read what I write—women’s fiction and romance. I’m not into thrillers or anything that involves violence and murder. I’m much more interested in emotional drama, in the inherent conflict between people who want different things.

[dmsden]

Characteristically Enjoyable – Making fun pre-generated characters

Hullo, Gentle Readers. This week’s Question from a Denizen is from my good friend, DantePD. He asks, “How can I make pre-generated characters to help new players, especially young players, learn the game and have fun?”

A fine question, Dante, and one I’m happy to answer.

As I’ve said in previous articles, I’m not in favor of dumbing down the game for younger players. I honestly think that the core of D&D is easy enough for kids to learn, and I wouldn’t hesitate to have a younger player try the game. At cons, I’ve definitely had some pretty young players, and I used to DM for a group of 9-13 year olds at a local game store. It was super-entertaining, and I miss doing it.

That being said, I think there are some steps you can take to make things a bit easier for them by narrowing the field a little bit. You want to give them some room to breathe, while still channeling them in a specific direction.

If you’re DMing for a specific group of players, have a kind of Session Zero for them, but keep the questions pretty open. Get a feel for who they’d enjoy playing in a fantasy setting. Does one mention wanting magic and loving animals? Consider a druid or a beastmaster ranger. Does one just want to smash monsters? Sounds like a fighter, paladin, or barbarian to me. Does one want to cast cool spells? I would look at a wizard or sorcerer.

You can encourage their imagination to open up by making some suggestions. Maybe they don’t know that it’s a good idea to have a support character like a cleric or bard in the party. You could ask if anyone likes the idea of being such a character. If not one does, then cut them some slack. You can always give them plenty of healing potions.

You can also make some suggestions about fantasy races, and be prepared to go broad. If you have access to crazy races like centaurs, kobolds, and tabaxi, throw them in the mix. Don’t feel obligated to include everything, though. Unless you have a MtG fan in your group, you probably don’t need to offer the choice of playing a Simic Hybrid, for example.

If you don’t know who your players are going to be, such as at a convention game, then I would recommend having a selection of characters ready to go that they can choose from. You pick the races, classes, subclasses, and backgrounds. You should create character elements that fit each other well and have a clear roleplaying path ready to go. A wood elf ranger with the Outlander background, for example, is probably a better choice than a Halfling barbarian with the Urchin background…at least for a game like this.

I also recommend sticking with elements that’re fun but easy to play. The Champion is an easier subclass to play than the Mystic Knight, for example, and the Circle of the Moon is a lot easier for a new player than the Circle of the Shepherd. Pick things that don’t overlap much, so that each character can feel very unique from the others.

Don’t make absolutely every detail of the characters. Encourage your players to come up with their characters names and personality traits. Once this is done, get the players to introduce their characters. If someone does a really good job, give them Inspiration right off the bat, and explain that you’ll reward good roleplaying and fun play in general with this element.

I hope this gives you a good direction to go in, Dante. Good luck with your game!