#i live in a constant state of hypocrisy

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

me: i hate war, war is SO BAD, no more war only peace fuck you

me when i see a movie/tv show about war: ooo nice

[yanaromanov]

pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

“Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

[qqueenofhades]

The thing that confuses me about the "don't vote" left (not the "I don't want to vote", I'm talking explicitly the "don't vote" left. I don't agree with the "I don't want to vote" left either but I can understand their logic) is they lose me at the final step of the logic. I've tried to connect the logic here, even if I don't agree with a political position I do try to understand where people are coming from (empathy for someones situation is not the same as cosigning it), but I just can't connect the dots here in a way that isn't deeply cruel. Does United States politics prioritize the lives of those in the US (and often white) over those in the Global South? Yes, it's a fucking atrocity. We should continue to make noise about it, cus Biden has used less drones and that shows progress, even if it's not enough. The part where I lose the plot is where the conclusion to this injustice is to let even more people die? Cus that's kinda how I see the idea of not voting: I can pick between shit and more shit, and at the end of the day, I'm picking whoever allows the most people to make it to the next day. Given Trumps stance on everything but specifically climate change, I feel like Biden is pretty significant harm reduction.

I don't think both things can't be true: that every life lost is a travesty we should not forget AND the more people we can save is worth fighting for.

The thing is, I have seen nothing among the "don't vote" far left (and I am talking here specifically about the people who both loudly announce their intention not to vote and try to convince others to do the same) to convince me that they actually care about harm reduction or stopping genocide. They only care about what makes them look the most Correct and/or superior to the Democrats. They yelled bloody murder about Obama using drones, they went dead quiet about Trump using them even more (even when he nearly started WWIII by assassinating the Iranian general Soleimani with one), and then said nothing at all when Biden reduced the drone program to almost nothing and withdrew the US from a failed war in Afghanistan it had long ago lost. Now they will yell all day about Israel/Hamas (something that Biden did not start and has had no direct military role in responding to) but they don't care about Russian genocide of Ukraine and Syria, Chinese threats to invade Taiwan, etc, because those governments are "anti-western/anti-American" and therefore should be defended. Their opposition to human suffering is extremely conditional and rests on whether they can look good out of it, and they never interrogate the hypocrisies of their own ideology.

Likewise: every country in the world prizes its own citizens above those of other countries. It's just a basic fact. Yes, the US has a grim history of intervening in other countries and causing untold civilian damage (especially during the Cold War and then in post-9/11 War on Terrorism). Yes, that legacy is complex and needs to be acknowledged. But literally none of that will be fixed, not to mention all the vulnerable people in America itself who will be punished, by Trump getting into power again. Biden is not just a grudging "lesser evil," but has done a lot of truly good and helpful things, regardless of the Online Leftists' constant lies, misinformation, and misrepresentation. If you spend all your time announcing what a champion you are for non-American marginalised people and/or those undergoing terrible suffering, and then deliberately and knowingly adhere to a course of action that will increase that suffering tenfold not only for those people but your own neighbors, friends, and family, then no, I don't believe you are a brave champion of social justice. You just want to know what categories of people you can gleefully and righteously punish and make to suffer for not believing the same things as you, that makes you just as dangerous as the right-wing fascists, and I can and will call out your ass accordingly.

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Helluva Boss's Handling Of Stella and Stolas's Relationship Is Equivalent Of Family Guy's "Screams of Silence: Story of Brenda Q"

I think one of the most criticized elements of Helluva Boss is how the series handles Stolas and Stella's relationship. We see in the Circus that it's been abusive since they have been married and Stolas has been covering up the more unpleasant parts from his daughter. It has been praised by fans for showing male domestic violence, but in my opinion it's very hamfisted. It doesn't feel like it's domestic violence to show how accurate and disturbing it is. More like it's being used as an excuse to justify why Stolas belongs with Blitzo and how he was right to cheat on her. Their relationship reminds me of another badly execution of how to address domestic abuse is Family Guy's "Screams Of Silence: Story Of Brenda Q".

It first came out in 2011 where it was met with divisive reviews mostly because of the fact that it was going to handle domestic abuse seriously rather than as a joke. However, critics of the episode felt it was tone deaf due to how it was going along with the shift especially the episode before that "Seashell Seahorse Party" was encouraged to stay in an abusive relationship for her own family's sake and Brenda and Jeff's first depiction was portrayed as dark comedy like other situations before. There was also the fact that Jeff and Brenda's written as so over the top that you can't take it seriously and that they are very flat characters. Also we never see why Brenda stays with him or drew him to him in the first place. Or maybe even say he's threatened to kill her or even is financially dependent on him since he's a unemployed bum. In other words, they just exist to sell a message and not actually be interesting on their own.

The same thing can be said of Stella and Stolas' relationship since "Circus" there is nothing to her character except Stolas's bitchy ex wife. She never interacts with her daughter and everything we hear about them is through second hand accounts but never anything about how they both feel about each other. In other words, Stella feels like a male Jeff who is just defined by the fact that she's an abusive asshole who lives to torment Stolas and she even admits it. She's not even smart as shown in "Western Energy" she's shown to be instructed by her older brother in order to think anything through. As a result, we see less of a hated tormentor and more like a poorly executed hate sink made with tons of badly written fanfiction tropes found in yaoi fanfiction.

Most of all is the shows' hypocrisy in depictions of abuse. Both state that abuse is not funny, but then in another episode treat another character physically abusing someone as comedy. Again Family Guy's constant abuse of Meg made the episode hypocritical when you keep in mind the narrative tries to depict it as right she goes back to being a punching bag. The same thing with Helluva Boss it tries to depict Stella as despicable for abusing Stolas but allows Loona to do the same thing to her father who saved her from being aged out of the system and thrown on the streets. Again when you are trying to do comedy with serious moments don't get things muddled when it comes to the latter moments because then things can get confused.

[froody]

youre very anti american until someone from another country says something bad about america. you do realise how hypocritical you are? (coming from an american)

First of all, I’m anti-America not anti-American. This country is wicked from its foundation, on an institutional level. Which I do lot deny and speak about honestly.

I like Americans, I know, crazy. We’re a resilient people, fundamental good resides in most of us. I believe that about all of humanity but Americans are who I know. I love my neighbors. I love my community. The people I love live here, mainly. I wish the best for all of us. I think we deserve to live lives without constant fear of violence and political unrest, with access to resources without discrimination. We are all done a disservice by this country, not in equal measures, mind you. I want to make this country a better place. I do not consider myself a patriot, not a nationalist, I swear fealty to the people and landscape around me.

You’re right, it is hypocrisy to lash out at people who speak negatively about the establishment I despise. It isn’t productive. It’s a knee-jerk reaction. It is extremely frustrating to see people from other countries, mainly Europeans, some Canadians, mock American society for problems that permeate their own government and culture that they refuse to address. Because it is easier to condemn stupid Americans than it is to begin to acknowledge that their country is built on the same white supremacist ideals, that the picturesque stately homes that dot their countryside largely would not exist if not for colonization and slavery. It is easier to imply that Americans deserve to live in constant fear of gun violence and homelessness for their own stupidity than it is to have a deeper compassion for the American people, than to admit that what is happening to us could possibly happen to them. They are not in any meaningful way helping us, they are not helping themselves, not their countrymen.

Europeans, if you think that the people of your country are smarter than Americans, are more enlightened, less bigoted, less violent, more rational, I beg you to look around. I beg you to witness Italy and it’s current slide back into fascism, I beg you to look at the antisemitism rising in Germany once more. I beg you to address the xenophobia in your own country, to look at the transphobia, the malefactors sneaking into your government to roll back your rights and resources.

Also if this is in response to me commenting on British food looking yucky, I want you to know I’m not walking that back. I think I’m in my right to have a little fun poking cheeky fun at British food since British people post about how shocking American food is so much of the time. That was in good faith. Not that deep.

[alexmeeksmartin]

don’t be afraid to jump then fall

part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/alexmeeksmartin/716114654174314497/enchanted-to-meet-you

pairing: chad meeks-martin x gn reader

synopsis: the one where y/n fully joins the friend group. also the one where quinn accidentally meddles, anika and mindy deliberately meddle, and sam puts her advice out there.

a/n: i’m kinda feeling like making this a cute little miniseries, open to any suggestions ofc !i definitely feel more comfortable writing even now, also i am open for requests !

wc: 2.7k

it had been just over a month since you’d met anika’s friends, and you had pretty much become an integral part of the group already. you and mindy realised you had your film studies class together, and ethan’s free periods aligned perfectly with yours, allowing for a lot more studying and hanging out together. you had to admit that it was nice, the regular dinners at tara and sam’s place, mindy frequently coming in and out of your apartment, and going to the gym with tara. you slotted perfectly into the group. but, nicest of all was the opportunity to see chad.

ever since meeting him, you and chad had constant laughs with each other. he was a spark that could brighten up your gloomiest of days, and you felt the tension between the two of you rising more and more as the days pass.

it was a friday evening in your apartment as anika and you were getting ready to go round to tara & sam’s apartment for movie night. anika made her way into the bathroom, seeing you delicately fixing your hair and checking your overall appearance.

“y/n, babe, it’s a movie night. you do not need to be doing all of… well this. chad is still gonna stare as soon as you walk through the door regardless.” anika states with a playful tone, removing you from your transfixion on your appearance.

“i am not doing this for chad, anika.” you retort, turning around and making eye contact with anika, your roommate staring at you with raised eyebrows. you throw your hands up in defeat before looking back to the mirror. “okay, it is for chad. but i can’t look bad, ani, like this is very important!”

anika gently pulls your hands away from your hair before directing you out of the bathroom. she sits you on the couch and then starts speaking again, “y/n, that boy is like the definition of enamoured and infatuated when it comes to you. he is obsessed, and will continue to be.” she continues, making her way into your kitchen, “so, stop stressing about how you’re going to look for a movie night of all things, and just relax.”

“fine.” you huff, “but also, ani, that is complete hypocrisy, we both know just how much time you’d spend getting ready just for one night at mindy’s place before you guys were official!”

“now that is different!” anika replies, beginning to laugh. her infectious smile makes its way into you as well, and before you know it the two of you are giggling with each other. anika was right in fairness, you always stressed before seeing chad, it was a habit that needed to stop. “anyways, i need to shower.”

tara opens the door, a wide smile across her face. “hey, guys, come in!” she says, “that’s anika and y/n here now, sam, you can put the popcorn on!” tara yelled through to her sister.

“sorry for taking so long, but a certain someone takes thirty minutes in the shower.” you say, playfully blaming the two of you’s lateness in anika.

“hey, just because i like to perform in the shower.” anika mumbles in response as you put your coats away and take your shoes off.

“it’s a shower, not a theatre, babes.”

the pair of you walk into the living room, seeing mindy situated on one end of a couch, and ethan on the other, mindy having clearly reserved a spot for anika. beside them, tara makes herself comfortable in a bean bag and sam’s blanket wrapped over the armchair, leaving the only open seat in the room beside chad on the two-seater. a seat you‘re very grateful to have exist.

after greeting everyone else, you make your way to sit down beside chad. “this spot taken?” you ask jokingly.

“yep, saving it for my lovely friend, y/n- oh wait.” he responds, the two of you laughing at his lame joke.

you sit down beside him, curling up in the corner of the seat. “had a nice day?” chad asks.

“eh, it’s been okay. just been studying for my exam pretty much so i’m deadly tired. what about you?” you politely answer.

“pretty good, better now that i’m seeing you.” he flirts, and you hear a giggle erupt from where anika & mindy are sitting.

sam makes her way back into the room, greeting you and anika with a hug before sitting herself down. “so, what are we watching?” she asks, turning on the tv.

“wrong turn!” mindy exclaims from her seat, receiving confused looks from across the room. “what?”

“wrong turn?” tara repeats as a question.

“wrong turn. you know, the one where those college students and that doctor get lost in west virginia and are hunted by mutated inbred cannibals?”

“no, i don’t.” tara laughs, as everyone else begins to agree.

“i’ve never watched it, but i have actually heard of it.” you chuck into conversation. “thank you, y/n! i’m glad i’m not the only cultured individual in this room.” mindy replies, tara sticking her tongue out at them.

“i say a romcom!” chad butts in, only for ethan to also give his input, “but you guys said you’d watch star wars with me!” earning a laugh from you.

eventually, mindy convinces you all to settle on wrong turn. you watch the first third of the movie, but quickly finding yourself falling asleep, exhausted from revising all day. chad notices, and without you noticing moves himself along the couch slightly so that you fall asleep on his shoulder.

after a while, the movie finishes, and both you and chad have nothing to say about it. after you fell asleep on chad, he barely took his eyes off of you the entire movie, constantly checking that you were comfortable, and that none of the loud noises were startling you.

“so, who’s up for some pizza?” tara asks, receiving nods of agreement from the whole group. the group begin to organise themselves to go down to the pizza place, but chad remains seated. mindy and anika make their way over to you and chad, clearly on a mission.

“chad, i’m gonna need you to come with us.” mindy demands. “why? tara and ethan are already going too.”

“anika and i want to have a conversation with you.” she states with a very serious tone of voice.

“but y/n is sleeping. like sleeping on me.” chad protests, “do you not think i can see that?” mindy bluntly asks.

“well, i can’t fucking move, can i?!” chad whisper-yells at his sister as anika cuts in, “if y/n can sleep through the screams that we heard in that movie, i think you can move yourself off of the couch, chad. also, this isn’t a request. you’re coming with us.”

“fine.” chad sighs, then beginning to very delicately move you off of him and putting all of your weight onto the couch. chad leaves with mindy, anika, tara, and ethan, but not before a final glance to you.

only minutes later, you wake up to a redhead girl standing in front of you, seemingly studying you and giving you a jump, causing you to let out a small scream.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry, i did not mean to scare you!” she says, also having jumped at your startled wake.

“who are you?!” you shout at her, as sam rushes back into the room. ”um, you’re the one in my apartment.” the girl retorts.

“guys, calm down. y/n, this is our roommate, quinn. and quinn, this is tara’s friend, y/n.” sam explains, your breathing finally steadying.

“wait-“ quinn begins, her eyes wide with excitement. “like, chad’s y/n? anika’s roommate y/n?!” she asks sam.

“quinn!” sam says with a glare.

“was i not supposed to say that or-“ quinn continues, but you finally process what was just said. “what do you mean by ‘chad’s y/n’? also, where is everyone?”

“she means nothing by it, y/n. and they should be back in about twenty minutes, they’re just getting pizza. you like just basic cheese pizza, don’t you, y/n?” sam asks, clearly evading your first question.

“yeah, but still, what did you mean by ‘chad’s y/n’?” you ask quinn again. the redhead looks to sam, who sighs and nods at her. “you might as well, quinn.”

“well, i just meant cause y’know, you and chad kinda have a thing going… from what tara said at least.” quinn tells you. of course tara had told her, tara, like anika, had been constantly badgering you with support to get with chad. however, you were reluctant for a multitude of reasons: was he serious about things, were you sure of your feelings or were you just caught up in a guy paying you attention, and most importantly, can you coexist with his grief for liv.

“that adds up, i guess.” you say. “wait so what is going on there? is it a thing?” quinn asks.

“i mean, i’d like to know as well.” sam chips in from her armchair.

you begin to gather your thoughts. “so, anika and mindy both say that chad has a bit of a crush on me, and both ethan and tara seem to agree. but, i don’t know what to do about it. of course i’m attracted to him too-“

quinn adds, “who wouldn’t be?”

“-but i don’t know if he’s serious. or if i am for that matter. i also don’t know if he’s dealt with his grief for liv enough to focus on me. i don’t know, i’m an overthinker and i stress myself out about this stuff-“

“just go for it.” quinn says, getting up from the couch. “a wise man once told me ‘you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’. so, just go. you like him on a level, he likes you. anyways, i should probably get back to paul. nice to meet you!”

“you too.” you reply as she leaves the room. “she’s a bit of a character, isn’t she?”

“she means well. also, i agree with her. go for it, chad’s a super sweet guy. he wouldn’t take you for granted in any way. don’t be afraid to jump then fall, y/n. you both deserve it.” sam advises.

“thanks for the tips, really sweet sam,” you begin sarcastically. “but i don’t know if you’re the best person to give romance advice on considering tara says you’ve been staring at ‘cute boy’ across the hall for months.” you say, laughing at sam’s predicament.

sam sighs. “i feel like i can trust you, y/n. i can trust you, right?” sam asks.

“of course.”

“swear to me that you will not discuss this with anyone. not even tara.” sam says with a stones expression.

“i swear that i won’t disclose this to anyone.”

“i’ve been sleeping with ‘cute boy’ from across the hall.” sam says, your mouth dropping open. “oh my god, it feels so nice to finally tell someone.” sam sighs in relief.

“seriously, sam?” you say, mouth still agape.

“seriously.”

“she shoots, she scores.” you say, walking across the room to give her a high five. you sit closer to her, both of you getting ready to delve deep into your love lives.

outside of the pizza place, chad, anika, and mindy wait for ethan and tara to emerge with the food.

“so…” chad starts, “what did you ‘need’ to talk to me about?”

“y/n, duh.” mindy bluntly answers.

“what about y/n?” chad asks, defensive.

“chad, we’re not idiots. we can all tell that there is something going on there.” anika states. “plus, mindy knows you like y/n. like you like like y/n.”

“i don’t-“

“you do.” mindy cuts in. “and knowing you, it’s weird you haven’t made a proper move yet. so, what’s going on?”

“i don’t know if y/n likes me back like that. i mean, sometimes i feel like we’re flirting but y/n also talks to ethan in the exact same way.”

“that’s why you haven’t made a move? seriously? y/n adores you, chad. you realise that, right? y/n spent almost an entire hour picking out what to wear tonight and sitting in front of the mirror, just for you to be impressed.” anika says, mindy nodding along to her girlfriend’s words.

“fuck, mindy, you couldn’t have told me this earlier?” chad questions his sister.

“what? it’s not my fault that you can’t pick up on very obvious social cues. in fact, so obvious that everybody else picked up on it.” mindy retorts, with tara and ethan exiting the pizzeria.

“did you sort whatever’s going on with him and y/n?” tara asks the girls.

“come on, it’s not that obvious.” chad says, receiving looks that say ‘are you serious?’ from the girls. “ethan, back me up.”

“sorry, man, they’re right.” ethan shrugs.

“…i mean, i just don’t feel like i’m ready for a relationship yet.” sam says, telling you about danny.

“well, like you said, ‘don’t be afraid to jump then fall’, sam.” you respond as the rest of the group re-enters the apartment.

“so, who do i owe?” you ask.

“it’s fine.” chad answers.

“yeah, chad already paid your share.” mindy says, her eyes widening, chad also becoming a bit flustered.

“oh, thanks! i can still pay you back, though?” you ask, feeling slightly guilty.

“nah, don’t worry about it.” he says. you send a smile of gratitude his way before you all sit down to eat.

“so, y/n, enjoy the movie?” tara asks sarcastically.

“oh, shut up.” you say, laughing.

“i thought that you’d have some real insightful comments and analysis to add.” mindy playfully adds.

“you wouldn’t have fallen asleep if we watched star wars…” ethan mutters under his breath.

“oh, please, star wars would’ve had me passed out within the first ten minutes.” sam chips in, having heard ethan’s comment.

as the group devolves into nonsensical chatter, chad taps you on the shoulder. “you wanna go for a walk?” he asks.

“sure.” you say, with a smidge of anxiety creeping into your mind, unsure of what he wants to speak about.

you two make your way out into the cold night air, making small talk until you reach a bench, sitting down.

“um, so i wanted to talk to you…” he trails off. you’d never seen him like this, he was always in a very confident and relaxed state. not this kind of shy and awkward guy that was sitting before you.

“about?” you ask, encouraging him to go on.

“i like you.” he says, waiting to gage your reaction before continuing. your eyes light up and he continues, “i like the way i can’t keep my focus around you. your laugh might just be the best sound i’ve ever heard. when you speak it’s like i hear the words, but all i’m thinking is that we should be together. i know it’s cheesy, but every time i see you smile, i smile. above everything, i guess i just like the way you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.”

it’s like you’re in a trance, absolutely speechless. “shit, i shouldn’t have said anything-“ chad’s doubtful words snap you out of it, finally processing what was being said to you. “it’s fine, can we just stay-“

you cut him off with a kiss, pulling him in. your lips make contact, and you passionately embrace each other for a moment before breaking it off.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you say, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. chad was serious. all the doubts that had been clouding your mind had been blown away.

you two walk hand in hand back to the apartment, chad giving you his jacket on the way back due to you shivering. you open the door to the apartment, seeing five hopeful and expectant faces on entering.

“what are the faces for?” you ask, confused.

“so… what did you guys talk about?” anika asks, trying to cover up a giggle.

chad looks to you for approval before giving the news, you nodding in return.

“well, we will both be unavailable on wednesday night.” he says, “because we will be on our first date.”

the group erupts in cheers, as you give chad a little peck on the lips. sam was right, you thought to yourself. sometime the best thing to do is to is jump then fall.

a/n: i don’t think i like this anymore but practice is good i guess, hope you enjoyed !

[eretzyisrael]

by Mark Jacobs

The irony is that most of the loudest choruses come from groups that have never supported Israel’s right to exist. Their hypocrisy is transparent to anyone who knows about these groups or the money behind them. They portray themselves as moral crusaders for justice, but, in reality, they’re just plain old-fashioned Jew haters. Many of them are the worst kind, actually, because they support the destruction of Israel and the genocide of the Jewish people.

Perhaps it’s a good time to remind Hamas apologists that for years Hamas has been launching rockets into Israel — during a time of a so-called “ceasefire” — trying to kill as many Jewish civilians as possible. For years, I have had an app on my phone, “Red Alert,” that signals when Hamas rockets are launched into Israel. The alerts are nonstop and have been for years. Maybe 1% of the time, if that, I see something about it in the media. In southern Israel, in particular, grabbing your children and sprinting to a bomb shelter as the rockets are coming is a regular part of life. Yet the world has been silent. Who can recall a single time Hamas was lectured by the world community for these constant attacks?

Israel is facing a conundrum with only horrible options. As of this writing, Hamas is holding 137 hostages. It is hiding out beneath or besides densely populated areas, which Hamas uses as human shields. At this point in the war, Israel has discovered more than 800 tunnel shafts in Gaza, all designed to kill Israelis. Many of these tunnels, we now know, contain vast caches of arms, sleeping barracks and air- conditioned meeting rooms that are underneath schools, hospitals, mosques, homes, even one in a U.N. office. As long as these terror tunnels exist, the existential threat to Israel continues.

The reality is that since the day of its inception 75 years ago, Israel’s enemies have never accepted its right to exist, leaving Israel in a perpetual state of war. The first war it loses will be its last. The current cast of armchair quarterbacks are quick to give their advice from safe spaces thousands of miles away. Most have never been to Israel nor studied it enough to understand what it’s like to live under constant attack. Or, more probably, they simply don’t care since they’d just as soon see Israel destroyed.

Yet, they incessantly lecture Israel as if they are morally superior or possess military brilliance that Israel never considered. Both are laughable.

Their lectures are unnecessary, ignorant and hypocritical. Give it a rest. Israel has its hands full at the moment and will conduct this war as effectively and mercifully as it sees fit in order to continue to survive.

[theendofviolet]

“one less pretense for you to wear”

vergilius is a man who is constantly, CONSTANTLY battling with himself and who he is (and deserves to be). its probably part of the reason why the end of leviathan doesn’t result in his destruction, even if it is essentially the pit of his despair. he cannot be destroyed because he is a man who is in a perpetual state of ripping himself apart and putting himself together to repeat the whole cycle all over again, so destruction means nothing to a man whose identity is constantly in its own wallowing dark flux. who IS vergilius? a monster? a man? a murderer? a lost soul? he doesn’t know, nobody else knows, but as iori says a lot of his identity is based on “pretense”, he’s a paper-mache man trying to obtain some form of humanity, even if its in the form of his own perceived selfishness (though also selflessness) when it comes to making a small sanctuary for innocent lives in the middle of a cruel world

I wanted to huddle together and dwell on the warmth all the time. Even if I knew that was nothing more than deception and hypocrisy.

vergilius cares about the kids he took into the orphanage. he also is fully aware that their circumstances are because of him. he was the one who gave them this meager new life, he was the one who killed their loved ones, he is the one with blood on his hands he can’t wash away. and yet...and yet....he still keeps fighting. he destroys himself for the sake of the children. he awaits to be destroyed, he doesn’t want to be destroyed. he’s one of the grandest sinners of all and yet it doesn’t change his actions....his own understanding of himself is someone who keeps wading through its own hell on a near constant basis.

I was no longer walking toward somewhere. In the end, all this playing house may have been a final attempt to protect my soul from itself, which had been stopped by guilt for the rest of my life.I know that where I want to go is too cold.

who are you, mister vergilius? everyone and no one.

in the end, all he knows is that he can’t be saved, no matter how many pretenses he wears.

[oldshrewsburyian]

As much as I'd love to talk Carré, I gotta admit I've tried and failed to get through even one of his novels. (I had to do research to even find out which it was, it was The Spy Who Came In From the Cold). It's really a tragedy, as someone who is SUPER into spy stories, political thrillers, and cold war history esp. re: the GDR, I was so ready to enjoy this book. But it just gave me nothing I enjoyed and I gave up halfway through. Also read excerpts of Tinker, Taylor for university and while that was a little better, I can't say I felt the need to get the full novel either...

Is there any novel of his that is markedly different in style or should I just give up on Le Carré if I didn't like that one?

I'm very glad that you've asked this question so that I can say: please, do not give up on Le Carré! One of the things I love about him is the variety of his novels, the precision of their individuality. Also, I'm trying and failing to imagine how reading excerpts of Tinker, Taylor, Soldier, Spy would work, because while the prose is gorgeous, it doesn't strike me as, really, an excerptable novel. A word in defense of TSWCIFTC as well: when I first read it, in my early twenties, I rather forced myself through much of it it, not seeing, really, how it all added up: the deliberations, the compromises, the aspirations, the betrayals. And then I got to the end, started weeping, and immediately started rereading it to try to force the novel and the characters to some other conclusion.

Anyway! Other Le Carré recs: A Small Town in Germany, perhaps the most Austenian of his works, about the functioning and functionaries of Bonn, and postwar/Cold War anxieties in the Bundesrepublik.

For late Cold War anxieties, there's A Perfect Spy, about the (mis)education of a British spy, and the myths and vulnerabilities of the Old Firm. The Russia House is a particular favorite of mine, with the US, UK, and USSR anxiously figuring out what the parameters (and vulnerabilities) of glasnost are, and people figuring out what heroism is required to live with integrity in an era of inhumane states and... I just love it a lot.

You might also enjoy his more recent political thrillers, whether about neocolonialist exploitation (The Constant Gardener,) Islamic fundamentalism and western cynicism/hypocrisy (A Most Wanted Man,) or the feverish extremism of the Brexit/Trump era (Agent Running in the Field.)

[la-pheacienne]

The ASOIAF fandom IMHO lives in a mind state comparable to conspiracy theory circles. Do they actually bellieve their takes? Why do they not at least once in a while doubt their own hypocrisy that is so laughably obvious to everyone outside their circle jerk? Like it's the case with non-fictional conspiracy freaks, it's their emotional investment in the objects of their bad takes that explains the cognitive dissonance IMHO. They just really really hate the characters who threaten their desired outcome fantasies and gave in to a permanent intellectual bad faith attitude about everything. They decided to forget about lying and making stuff up and simply perform lies and twists as truth, through passionate investment and constant repitition. You are simply denied the right to call that out, that's the strategy, they'll just ignore.

I love that. If you really think about it, hating on the Targs as a whole, actually believing Rhaegar is a pedo who raped Lyanna, shipping Alys and Aemond, thinking Alicent is justified, I mean these are literally ideas that can be considered "in universe" conspiracy theories.

Us boomers, when we don't like something, we just, you know, find something else. Which is something not possible anymore apparently. They don't like this story, they like nothing about the story, literally nothing. They don't like the 5 key players/outcasts of the story, they don't like Rhaelya who is literally the most tragic/romantic couple in the whole asoiaf, they don't like asoiaf mythology/the fantasy element with the dragons, they don't like a faux medieval setting where everyone has sex so so young and characters start wars and kill people, they don't actually read the literary text, they don't feel anything, literally anything about the actual narrative and yet they poison the fandom with their nauseating headcanons and on top of that they actually believe these nauseating headcanons make them morally superior and give them the right to flex that superiority on people who actually read the story. It's insane. Passionate investment and constant repetition, the pipeline to internet fascism, quite literally.

Even the anti tags annoy me. Why should I put an anti Aemond tag when I'm literally describing the canon character? Why should I put an anti Sansa tag for saying Sansa bullied Arya? She did. It's in the text of the book you're SUPPOSEDLY reading.

[chaoticdesertdweller]

A brief list of why the Fourth of July could and should always be boycotted, by Jeff Smith:

-The US has engaged in genocidal policies against Indigenous people/nations on this continent since the founding of the US. White Settler Colonialism has been the primary driving force, which has included the outright slaughter of Indigenous people, the forced removal from their lands, the repeated violation of treaties, forcibly removing Indigenous children from their communities and putting them in so-called “Boarding Schools,” and the denial of Indigenous people to celebrate their own spiritual traditions for most of the past 250 years. For an excellent resource, see Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz’s book, An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States.

-If people haven’t read it, they should read Frederick Doughlass’ famous 1852 speech, entitled, “What, to the Slave, is the Fourth of July?” Douglass calls out the realities of slavery and denounces the blind celebration of July 4th, by saying, “What, to the American slave, is your Fourth of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelly to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciations of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade, and solemnity, are, to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy—a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices, more shocking and bloody, than are the people of these United States, at this very hour.”

-While Chattel Slavery was outlawed by the end of the Civil War, the US legal and economic systems made sure that Black people were still denied freedom and independence. The 13th Amendment essentially made slavery legal again, a theme which is explored in Ava DuVernay’s 2016 award winning documentary, 13th. In addition, the history of lynching, red-lining, legal segregation, the War on Drugs, mass incarceration, gentrification and the ongoing efforts to dismantled legal gains made by the Black Freedom Struggle/Civil Rights Movement, ultimately demonstrates that Black people have never been afforded the same freedom as white people in this country.

-The history of US immigration policy has excluded millions of people from coming to and be accepted into US society. From the Chinese Exclusion Act in the late 19th Century, the refusal of the FDR Administration to welcome thousands of Jews fleeing Nazi Germany, to the brutal treatment of people fleeing poverty, political oppression and climate catastrophe from Latin America since the 1960s, the US has consistently excluded millions of immigrants seeking asylum and safety. See our popular education tool, History of US Immigration Policy.

-The US has a bloody history towards working class people, which has always been directed by the Capitalist Class, with assistance from the state and the state’s main enforcement mechanism, the police. From the earliest efforts to win labor struggles in the early part of the 19th Century, the harsh repression of radical union organizing in the late 19th Century through the 1930s, and the ongoing Capitalist Class’s war against working people, evidenced by the efforts against Amazon and Starbucks workers, most people living in this country have never experienced economic freedom or independence. See Kim Kelly’s book, Fight Like Hell: The Untold History of American Labor.

-The US has consistently marginalized and repressed people who are part of the LGBTQ community, those who are gender non-conforming; religious minorities, especially Muslims, those in the disability community, anti-war dissidents, radical environmentalists and so many other communities that the systems of power in this country have never accepted and have often brutalized.

[azhdakha]

No moral judgement implied, I'd like to neutrally ask a question about a sort of inconsistency I've noticed in the way you talk about the aggressor in Ukraine-Russia and Palestine-Israel conflicts. When speaking of Russia (which I do not support, and I will denote a clear reason in a few sentences), you use the lower case r, I've seen tags such as "Russia is a terorrist state" and the like and are invested in sharing posts about Ukrainian culture. When talking about Israel, I've noticed no such thing, despite the fact the fact that Israel, as far as war crimes go, is the objectively more terroristic regime than Russia is. In general, I've noticed that people are able to separate Jewish culture from Israel, which I personally am very happy about, but any Russian opposition / resistance seems to be met with mockery or be completely ignored, and any references, at least back in 2022, to Russian culture were considered in poor taste and tone deaf in the "current circumstances." I definitely am no fan of Russia or the sentiments of its people, and while I'm Australian, I can trace roots from either side of my family to indigenous Siberians. However, this to me seems like a slight level of hypocrisy. I've visited Russia before and I have friends living there, and the disparity of the way our Western society seems to treat people who would sit in lawn chairs and watch children be bombed for entertainment, Israelites, and you can even find a video of them doing it, versus a massive amount of people living under an authoritarian regime for arguably 500 or so years, who, correct me if I'm wrong, don't have a lot of sway on the political direction of their country, -- the disparity of that is absurd to me. I'd like to ask your opinion on this, because from what I've gathered you live in Russia, are pro-Ukraine, I think? pro-Palestine, but have a really strange investment in Israel, so it'd be curious to hear if you've ever thought about this. Sorry if this was a bit long-winded aswell, I tried to explain the way I view this as thoroughly as possible.

Okay, ask No. 2

It's alright, I understand.

I'll try to explain. First of all as you noticed, I used to be a zionist for a while. Mostly because I got my info from some of my friends who were also zionists. They had their own reasons mainly because of antisemitism they and their family went through and also - a common phenomenon among russian opposition - they needed a place to go when leaving Russia and Israel is one of the easiest one, because they welcome you there, you don't come as a rightness immigrant and you don't need to survive as a refugee. Does this excuse their zionism? No, obviously not. But that's the reasoning I can provide you. That's also something I was baffled and dissapointed very much about: the overwhelming support of Israel among ru opposition and among Ukrainians. But that's whole another issue.

Later, as I saw everything that happened in Gaza, spent some time communicating to Israelis and Jewish people from the human rights organizations, listened to what Palestinians said, read some history, I was just disappointed overall. I didn't let go of the idea that Jewish people have a right for self determination, I'm still convinced that they do and I hate when people say things like "Why do you even want a country? You are completely fine in the countries you lived in and after WW2 there wasn't really any antisemitism" to Jewish people. That's not true? But at the same time I cannot be okay with the treatment of Palestinians, I cannot be okay with murder, displacement, constant deliberate human rights violations. Like, this is not how you get your self determination? Just because you were oppressed, doesn't mean you are allowed to oppress someone else? And I often feel like I screaming into void when I try to talk to zionists who totally convinced that they are the victims in this situation and all the deaths of Palestinians are "well, it's sad, but what can we do" as long as it's required to eradicate hamas. While at the same time their own leaders and even regular citizens say they aren't after hamas, they want to erase Palestinians from this earth, they still believe in the fairytale that this is about hamas and they're the main victim here, as if they live in a parallel reality. I guess, I saw too many dead and disfigured bodies of kids, you know, when you see a parent holding torn parts of body that used to be theis child, it's hard to stay unbothered. Can you imagine that youre holding a piece of you parent, sibling's or child's body? How can someone's determination be at this cost? What kind of safe refuge it is if you need a mamad, an iron dome and live in constant war with your neighbors. Something defintely went wrong here. Thats what made me change my mind.

Now, coming back to your question. I am not insisting on the separation of Israeli citizens from Israeli government in the way that they're good fine people who are against the actions of their government. I am insisting on separating Israel from Jewish people and Judaism. I don't think I need to explain that, do I? Where I do insist on separating civillians from military and government is when it comes to violence and murder. Comparing to Russia there haven't been any case of mass attacks and murder of russian civillians by Ukrainian army or insurgents. Wether you like it or not, hamas did kill civillians. Just because idf did that too, doesn't mean that hamas didn't kill anyone or that it was majorly idf, unlike what too many prefer to think. Recently there was an info piece about a number of idf soldiers in Gaza killed by their own. I cannot remember exactly if that was 20 people out of 150, or 20%, but I assume the ratio of civllians that died at the hands of idf on October 7th and at the hands of hamas is about the same. So, if Ukrainians or anyone else start mass murdering random russian civillians, I'm not going to support that either. I don't know for how long have you been following me if you did, or how deep did you scroll through my blog, but I write several times that I don't understand and cannot support those who claim that all russians are guilty equally(guilty, not responsible), or that every russian citizen met abroad should be ostracized, bullied have less rights just because they're from russia, regardless of their position. I remember how I saw a post about a russian primary school kid being bullied in school for their nationality and the comments where "We should bully them until they hang themselves". Like what the fuck is that? Ofcourse I'm not okay with that and I don't support that. People are not guilty for being born in this shithole.

At the same time yes, I'm being more harsh towards russian people than towards anyone simply because that's my responsibility as a russian to criticise my country and my people. As a citizen I'm directly responsible on my part for what my country is doing. I am living here, I face alm the consequences and I deal with all the pro-putinists. I also deal with russian colonialism and other oppressive policies not only as a russian, but as an Indigenous person. You don't imagine how exhausted I am from this country and it's people. You mentioned Israelis brining couches to watch shelling of Gaza and cheer for the death of Palestinians. Have you seen how was that used? "They deserve to be killed, they're all monsters, even civillians". Is that okay for you? Also, do you think russians are different? Go on any pro-russian war reporter and you'll see thousands of russians cheering on "kh*khols" dying. Not soldiers. Civillians, kids. What do you think I feel when at a family union I have to listen to how Ukrainians have always been inhumane and abnormally cruel or savage? There are much more similarities between Israel and Russia than you think. That's why I'm so frustrated that so many Ukrainians support Israel. You think russians are unable to protest? Ohsalome here on tumbkr once made a post about what the reality of russian protesters actually is. Yes, the repressive government is a problem. But indifferent citizens are a much bigger problem. If you want to know how Israel treats its protesters, look up Frey Israel, who dared to speak against the attack on Gaza and the next day an angry mob gathered at his house. Or how police detains people for a wrong opinion online. Ofcourse, in Israel it depends a lot on wetuer you're Jewish or Palestinian. But please, stop buying the Israeli propaganda that they're a democratic state.

I also understand that the situation for israelis and russians isn't completely the same. Russians in Ukraine don't need that land. They have a whole country to live in. They didn't go through Holocaust and antisemitism, they didn't come as refugees. Jewish people in Israel did. Does that give them a pass for oppressing and displacing Palestinians? No. But this is an inevitable fact that you have to consider when you tell them to "Go back to where they came from". More than a half of Jewish israelis were born there, they don't hold a dual citizenship. There are also Jewish prople from Islamic countries. How do you imagine them going back? Again, not an apology. This is definitely not "Well, they will suffer, so let's leave the status quo, Palestinians may continue to suffer tho". No, that's not how it works. That's simply an argument why you can't just tell all israelis to go back where they came from and the issue will be solved. This is the same conversation I had with our native peoples on the subject of decolonization. I have posted on here that I came across very radical religious and conservative groups among my own people for whom decolonization means returning to the traditional society with religious law system where native people will have a privilege over everyone else. For them human rights are a colonial western value. So all those right we, leftists right for, to them are a colonial western value. Does this sound like a decolonization you'd want to happen? This is why I don't like when westerners are so delulu about decolonization. At the same time, there is the opposite end of the problem that zionists see any armed resistance from Palestine as inherently terrorism and enemy. We had a secular PLO, it sort of died out, now hamas and alike groups are basically the only ones that fight for Palestinians against the occupation regime. Do they have much choice of wether to support them or not? They don't. That'd be great if Palestine had another Yasser Arafat. But how can one emerge when these people are more busy surviving than thinking about politics. This is what several zionists fail to understand. For them, if hamas surrenders, it'll be peace and safety. For Palestinians that doesn't guarantee any safety and any peace at all.

Inevitably we come to the fact that there will be a resistance, there will be a fight, the will be violence. At this point as you might have noticed I support Palestinian resistance that is armed and that is ready to fight its oppressor. I do not support murdering the unarmed, I do not support war crimes. And I do understand that in order for a justful, democratic state where everyone will be equal to emerge, Israelis should also stand up against the regime and side with Palestinians. This is why I support so many Israeli human rights organizations. This is why I try to speak out against antisemitism in the pro-palestinian movement whenever it occurs.

Okay, it got really long and probably boring. I hope I made it clear about my "hypocrisy".

[cassianus]

All the ascetic’s care should be dedicated to the humbling of the soul’s pride, which is brought about by the insurrection of pleasures. For how will the soul be able to look up with a free gaze to the noetic light that befits it as long as it is nailed down to the pleasure of the flesh? That is why it is necessary first of all to exercise self-control, which is a safeguard of prudence, and not to allow the commanding intellect to meditate on impure thoughts. Thus, we must take care of the inner man, so as to keep the intellect undistracted, with its concentration intent on the glory of God, in order to avoid judgment by the Lord who said, Woe to you, for you are like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. Even so you also outwardly appear righteous to men, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness (Mt. 23:27-28). Hence, a great struggle is required, and one which is done according to the rules (2 Tim 2:5), in heart, in speech, and in practice, so that we do not receive the grace of God in vain (2 Cor. 6:1), but that we may mold ourselves in the inner man by the teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ, as wax is molded by an emblem, and practically fulfill what St. Paul said: Put off the old man with his deeds, and put on the new man who is renewed in knowledge according to the image of Him who created him (Col. 3:9-10). He calls all the different (κατὰ μέρος) sins and impurities the old man. Let us be formed together in the inner man to newness of life until the day we die, as Paul says (Rom. 6:4), so that we may be made worthy to say truly: It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me (Gal. 2:20). Hence we need great diligence and vigilant care, not only to avoid falling short of so great a reward by setting out to perform a commandment contrary to the rules we have mentioned, but also to escape falling under such dire threats. When the devil attempts to contrive against the soul, even when he does this with great intensity, and shoots his own thoughts like flaming arrows (Eph. 6:16) into the soul that is trying to keep still and calm, and suddenly he inflames it and makes memories that had entered it just once permanent and inextinguishable, we must then resist these schemes with watchfulness and greater attention, just as an athlete dodges his adversaries’ strikes with the utmost caution and bodily agility; we must further dedicate everything to prayer and the invocation of help from above to overcome this assault and repel the bombardment of arrows. For this is what St. Paul taught us, saying, In all things take up the shield of faith, by which you may extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one (Eph. 6:16). But when the soul relaxes the concentration and intensity of the intellect and accepts random memories of random things, then the mind drifts in an uneducated and ignorant manner towards these things, and the more it becomes occupied with them, the more it exchanges one delusion for another until it often ends up in the most wretched and absurd state of mind. But this negligence and distracted state of the soul must be corrected and restored through greater focus and mental concentration, and by constant engagement in the study of good things.

Saint Kallistos Telikoudes

ON THE PRACTICE OF HESYCHASM

Philokalia Vol. 5

[zapolinien]

Snakes in mythology. Symbolism of snake

Since there is a snake on Mujin's face in the teaser, we decided to highlight this in a separate post. Let's consider this an educational moment :3

The symbolism of protection and destruction, which unites all the myths about snakes, shows that the snake has a dual reputation, is a source of power if used correctly, but is potentially dangerous and often becomes an emblem of death and chaos, as well as life. It can be both a symbol of good and a symbol of evil.

An example of the positive symbolism of a snake is the concept of kundalini: a symbol of inner strength, psychic energy, a snake—like tangle of vital energy dormant at the base of the spine. The Assyrians had a snake as a symbol of life (in Assyrian and Arabic, the word "snake" comes from the root "to live"). In ancient Egypt, the snake is a symbol of the Sun and Osiris himself, as well as a symbol of the heavenly river. There is a legend in Chinese folklore that snakes reward virtuous people with pearls. The Japanese emperor bears the title "Mi-kado", which means "son of the snake", because he is attributed to the origin of the heavenly serpent.

If we consider the frightening part of the symbolism of the snake, then it is an obvious prototype of dragons and sea snakes (Western folklore) or snake—like hybrids, such as in Greek mythology the children of the Echidna (Hydra, Chimera) and the snake-tailed dog from the underworld (Cerberus), symbolizing the many dangers that lie in wait for a person in life. In Iranian Zoroastrianism, the snake is one of the worst omens, foreshadowing the appearance of Satan, and it also symbolizes the darkness of evil. In Tibetan Buddhism, the "green snake" is one of the three basic animal instincts inherent in man — hatred. The Chinese genius of evil, proud before the Almighty, Tshi-Seu, is, in turn, a giant serpent. The snake is one of the five harmful animals in China, although it sometimes appears in positive roles. The demon of the Japanese is also a serpent, rebelling out of pride against God. In Western folklore, the symbolism of the snake is mostly negative. The reason for this is in her forked language, which makes one assume hypocrisy and deception, and poison, which brings unexpected and instant death. The snake is accused of losing God's gift of eternal life because of it, referring not only to the story of Adam and Eve, but also to the Babylonian "Epic of Gilgamesh", whose hero traveled a great distance to find a magical plant that restores youth, and when he found it, he immediately a snake stole it. Jewish and Christian traditions represent the serpent as an enemy and even identify it with Satan.

The diversity of the snake's symbolism is explained by the fact that it is in constant contact with the forces of the earth, waters, darkness and the afterlife — lonely, cold-blooded, secretive, often poisonous, rapidly moving without legs, capable of swallowing animals many times larger than itself and rejuvenating by shedding its skin.

Snakes are often found as ancestral ancestors (totems) in African and North American legends, as well as in China, where Na Gua and Fu Xi were serpentine ancestor gods, and snakes living in the house, according to belief, were ancestral spirits and brought good luck.

Totemic symbolism combined with the belief that snakes know the secrets of the earth and are able to see in the dark, endow snakes with wisdom or the gift of divination.

The snake coiled around the rod is an alchemical symbol of the Philosophical Mercury in its primary state. The rod is sulfur absorbed by Mercury. The snake is often used as a symbol of healing and medicine.

So, and now directly to the mythological representatives of this species. This is hardly relevant to Mujin's future clip, but purely out of interest, I decided to look.

In Japan, according to the contents of the bestiary, there are no snakes. They are all dragons to one degree or another, and often aquatic. As one example, we can cite Ikuchi - huge sea monsters that wander in the open sea off the coast of Japan. In the Edo era, there were many stories where they were described as huge fish or some kind of sea snakes. Their bodies are covered in slippery oil that spreads around when they swim in the ocean.

In Korean mythology, the most famous snake is Imugi. He is described as a huge sea creature who dreams of becoming a dragon. However, as befits a living and unsystematic mythology, there is no uniform interpretation of the image of imuga among Koreans. In some legends, for example, it is said that imugi are hornless creatures similar to dragons, but unable to become them because of a curse. Other legends hold the idea that Imugs are "pupae" or "larvae" of dragons. And they will become full-fledged and full-fledged dragons after spending 1000 years in the ocean. In this interpretation of the image, they are depicted as giant good-natured sea snakes that live in the water expanses or even in coastal caves.

In Egyptian mythology, there is a huge serpent Apop, personifying darkness and evil, the eternal enemy of the sun god Ra.

The next mythological serpent is Boytata. In the folklore of the Brazilian Indians, tupi guarani is a giant fiery snake whose body is covered with glowing eyes of the victims it has eaten. (If you combine the glowing eyes around Mujin and the image of a snake on his nose, you get just a similar picture. An interesting coincidence, isn't it?)

Next comes Ermungand, the world serpent from Scandinavian mythology, the middle son of Loki and Angrboda. It is so huge that it encircles the earth (although it is located at the bottom of the sea). According to some versions, it weaves itself around the Yggdrasil tree. According to the myth of the "last battle", in Ragnarok Ermungand will come out of the ocean and poison the sky.

Another mythological world serpent is the Ouroboros. In symbolism, Ouroboros has several meanings. The main one is a reflection of the cyclical nature of the Universe: creation from destruction, Life from Death. The ouroboros eats its own tail to regain life, in an eternal cycle of renewal. In the drawing from the book of the alchemist Cleopatra, the black half symbolically represents the Night, the Earth, and the destructive force of nature, the beginning of Yin; the light half represents the Day, Heaven, the creative force, the beginning of Yang. Also in alchemy, the Ouroboros is used as a purification glyph.

And the last snake that has nothing to do with dragons or a cross between a snake and any other species is Yakul. He swiftly attacks his victim and strikes on the spot.

Also, while I was wooling the bestiary, there was another candidate for the type of spirits invoked by Mujin in the teaser. Latgav - in the folklore of the Filipino people of Sulu, a tall black demon with huge glowing fire eyes.

[elecalice]

I believe that when I die, my consciousness will end up in another body.

Either in this same forsaken world, or on another forsaken world on... IDK, another timeline? Dimension? World?

I hope that when I die and I became conscious again on another body, the world isn't a massive clusterfuck that the one that we're living right now...

But I don't want to get my hopes up. I want to be "realistic".

And I'll admit. I'm a broken idealist, to the point of being dangerously cynical and even being a negative nihilist at my worst moments.

WARNING// THIS BLOG ENDED UP BEING A MASSIVE CYNICAL ANGRY RANT OF THE CURRENT STATUS OF THIS WORLD, MAKING ME QUESTION MY LOVE FOR HUMANITY. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ SOMETHING BLEAK, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS BLOG. (UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR DAY BE RUINED)

My mom tells me that I should watch the news more ofter-

THE NEWS ARE ALWAYS NEGATIVE CYNICAL BULLSHIT!!

I STOPPED WATCHING TV NEWS BECAUSE I KNOW THAT THIS WORLD IS BURNING DOWN (FIGURATIVELY AND EVEN LITERALLY) DUE TO OUR OWN INCOMPETENCE, LACK OF SENSE OF HUMANITY, REMOSE AND EMPATHY!!!

THE ONES WHO ARE HARMING HUMANITY AND THE WORLD ONLY CARE FOR THEMSELVES!!

NARROW-MINDED PEOPLE WHO ONLY CARES FOR THEIR GOALS AND REFUSES TO LISTEN TO OTHERS!

GREEDY PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE MONEY TO FUND STUFF THAT CAN HELP HUMANITY TO BE/GET BETTER!! YET THEY REFUSE TO GIVE AWAY A PART OF THEIR MONEY JUST TO MAINTAIN THEIR "STATUS"-!! IF YOU WANT YOUR REPUTATION TO BE LEGITIMATELY GOOD, BE MORE SELFLESS!!

VIOLENT PEOPLE WHO HARM PEOPLE IN SOME WAYS OR OTHERS WITHOUT REMORSE OR CARE FOR OTHERS WHO ARE AFFECTED BY THE POSSIBLE COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!

And more... And more horrible people...

It hurts me because... I legit believe that humanity can be better and better...

I believe that humanity is capable for awesome progress and good stuff for this world!

I WANT TO BELIEVE THAT HUMANS CAN BE BETTER!!

But... The current state of this world...

I question my love for humanity. It makes me question more that the small good things that we do are... Worth it?

Like- "Why are we keep planting trees if eventually someone's will burn all it down?" (and trees are take YEARS to fully grow)

"The Small Flower planted with Love will be eventually Stumped"

"Why are still doing X when Y is still happening?" as a summary of my occasional questions.

I envy those who do NOT care... Who accepted that this world is a clusterfuck.

I CARE... Maybe too much. And it hurts me that this world and humanity are in constant pain and violence.

I just wish to stop caring and live my life with a "That's life" attitude, even accepting that the most HORRIBLE things are still happening.

But I can't... Because I care so (too) much...

I don't expect that someone really important is going to read this and say "Oh. See this sad Chilean girl rambling about humanity being so cruel. Maybe we should stop?" and BOOM! Humanity will stop act horribly towards each other and we live in a eternal utopia.

No. I do NOT except that my words are meaningful for people with power.

I am a nobody for them, after all.

(Also that utopias can be dystopias for others, as well as utopias not being possible to be real)

I love humanity... But...

It frustrates me... And I can't pretend that everything is okay. Because nothing is okay in this world.

I know!! That we can't stop being bad. Nothing will stop bad stuff to happen. After all, "Without crime, Justice will not exist"

But when everything looks so bleak and bad... It makes me feel that everything good that we do will eventually be overshadowed by something massively horrible...

Humans can be beautiful beings as well as horrible monsters.

I'll shut up now. My ramblings are meaningless in a big picture.

(And I complain that people on Internet are so cynical to worrying levels. While I'm a massive cynic like right now... I acknowledge the hypocrisy of my part...)

EDIT

I know what people will tell me.

"Try not to care˜ Your whining will not change this world"

I Know! I'm not stupid!

My whining will not change my world. And never will!

Again, I'm just a nobody towards the eyes of the big ones.

But it hurts that I legit believe that humanity can be capable to be better, but also be horrible...

But well. That's humanity. Ugly yet beautiful.

...I don't want to have a depresive episode again...

But is pains me that I can't shut my eyes to the problems of the world. I can't pretend that the world is fine. I can't pretend that everything's fine.

It pains me that every moment that I see something that brings me hope on humanity, there will be always, ALWAYS something that breaks that hope.

Right now, we're living in wars; genocide; greedy persons making havoc to the ones with little to no money; companies and people that are capable to bring advances in technology, medicine, etc. that can bring good to humanity, but instead they prefer to bring those who bring them money; people disregarding the needs of minorities and dehumanizing them; people harming other people in general...

I CAN'T PRETEND THAT EVERYTHING'S OKAY.

BECAUSE IT IS NOT.

...

I want to be hopeful.

But hope is meaningless after all.

I want to help. But... Performative activism is a fucking joke.

I WANT TO ACTUALLY HELP.

BUT I WISH THAT PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE CAPACIBILITY TO HELP BUT REFUSE TO ACT DUE TO "NOT CARING" OR "NOT MY PROBLEM".

...

HUMANITY. YOU ARE BETTER THAN THIS.

I know that you can be better. But you're a troublesome entity.

I hope you can be better, and that you can finally open your eyes and do stuff that can bring prosperity and good to everyone.

... Hope's a joke. Action is important.

Again.

Humanity. You are better than this.

If you keep proving me wrong... I... don't know what to think anymore.

If you SOMEHOW managed to reach the end, My apologies for this massive despair-dumping trash of a blog post.