#segregation and shit i just want you to acknowledge that you as a white person have implicit bias and also dating a racist is never a good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lithuilgreenleaf · 2 years

Text

Some people say Elvis was racist; this is false

Go to the bottom for summary (tl;dr)

I sometimes see some wrongly directed hate for Elvis and just want to try to clear it up. I’m a POC and I’m not a fan of his even a little bit, and I’m not saying he didn’t do some of whatever you accuse him of, but I don’t want people hating on others with misinformation.

Elvis was not racist. He never said anything racist, and he admired and respected black people.

The only two allegations on record that I can find against him of racism are these:

One magazine in 1957 started a rumor that Elvis Presley once said, “The only thing Ne**oes can do for me is buy my records and shine my shoes.” This claim was debunked and proven false when a black reporter, Louie Robinson, investigated. He interviewed Elvis, who declared, “I never said anything like that, and people who know me know that I wouldn't have said it.” Elvis had never even been to the place where the magazine claimed he said this quote. Robinson found no evidence that the remark had ever been made, and on the contrary elicited testimony from many individuals indicating that Presley was anything but racist, including black people who knew him since childhood and black artists who performed with him. After his investigation, Robinson concluded, "To Elvis people are people, regardless of race, color or creed." (link) (second link)

“Fight the Power” was a 1989 rap hit by Public Enemy, which had the lyrics, “Elvis was a hero to most / But he never meant shit to me / Straight-up racist that sucker was / Simple and plain / Motherfuck him and John Wayne” (John Wayne was actually racist). However, Chuck D, the singer and writer of the song, later clarified his lyric associating Elvis Presley with racism. In an interview with Newsday timed with the 25th anniversary of Presley's death, Chuck D acknowledged that Elvis was held in high esteem by black musicians, and that Elvis himself admired black musical performers. Chuck D stated that the target of his line about Elvis was the white culture which hailed Elvis as a "King" without acknowledging the black artists that came before him. (link)

One time, Quincy Jones claimed Elvis was racist, but he had never actually met Elvis. He said that a white performer named Tommy Dorsey told him Elvis was racist, after which Quincy Jones refused to work with Elvis. However, it is on record that Tommy Dorsey liked Elvis on a personal level. Quincy Jones also claimed that every time he saw Elvis, Elvis was being taught to sing by Otis Blackwell, a black composer. However, Otis Blackwell never met Elvis in his life (according to Otis himself). On top of this, Quincy Jones is known to have said some questionable things over the years. Also, Quincy Jones had state din 2002 that Elvis was one of the innovator’s of pop music.

Part of the reason Elvis is sometimes accused of racism is that much of his visual and musical performance came from African American sources. People say that he “stole” African American music, and then became known as the “King of Rock and Roll” despite the many African American performers that preceded him.

Elvis acknowledged his debt to African Americans throughout his career, such as when he stated, “A lot of people seem to think I started this business. But rock 'n' roll was here a long time before I came along. Nobody can sing that kind of music like colored people. Let's face it: I can't sing like Fats Domino can. I know that.” (That term is considered racist now but was widely used at the time)

Elvis never liked being called the “King of Rock and Roll”. It was a title forced on him by others. He believed the real “King of Rock and Roll” was Fats Domino.

The reason for his singing African American music was that he grew up in majority black community and he grew up listening to black music. He often broke segregation laws by attending black clubs (often with the help of musicians like Ike Turner) and watched black musicians perform. He loved attending all-night gospel singings at the Ellis Auditorium in Memphis. The performances he saw there are where he later took some of his dance moves and songs from.

Basically, the reason Elvis Presley sang songs by black people and performed in their style was because he liked and respected their music and style. It was his own music too, to him, because it was an integral part of his life.

Elvis always looked up to black musicians.

Once, he recalled how he would listen to Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup—the originator of "That's All Right"(which Elvis later did a cover of)—”bang his box the way I do now, and I said if I ever got to the place where I could feel all old Arthur felt, I'd be a music man like nobody ever saw.”

Once, surrounded by the Las Vegas press, Elvis was asked a question by a reporter who referred to him by his common moniker: “the king.” Rather than accept the title and all the praise that would come along with it, Elvis alerted the media of Fats Domino’s presence in the room. “No, that’s the real King of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” Elvis said.

Elvis also expressed much love for Sister Rosetta Tharpe.

One time, Elvis refused to perform a concert when the organizers refused to allow the Sweet Inspirations (Elvis’s black female backup group) to perform with him. Elvis only agreed to perform once the organizers said the Sweet Inspirations could perform with him.

Black musicians admired Elvis right back.

B.B. King ("The King of the Blues"), who maintained a friendship with Elvis throughout his life, said of him, “Let me tell you the definitive truth about Elvis Presley and racism. With Elvis, there was not a single drop of racism in that man. And when I say that, believe me I should know”. King wrote in Elvis’s defense, “Elvis didn’t steal any music from anyone. He just had his own interpretation of the music he’d grown up on, same is true for everyone. I think Elvis had integrity.” Presley also helped King land gigs, overcoming racism.

Little Richard was also friends with Elvis. Although eh pointed out that Presley’s whiteness helped his career, he did say, “I love him. That’s my buddy, my baby. Elvis is one of the greatest performers who ever lived in this world.”

"Elvis created a new style all his own, and gave an injection to black music like no other artist had ever done." - Rufus Thomas.

Sammy Davis Jr said of Elvis, “I have a respect for Elvis and my friendship. It ain't my business what he did in private. The only thing I want to know is, 'Was he my friend?', 'Did I enjoy him as a performer?', 'Did he give the world of entertainment something?' - and the answer is YES on all accounts. The other jazz just don't matter.” He also said, “Early on somebody told me that Elvis was black. And I said 'No, he's white but he's down-home'. And that is what it's all about. Not being black or white it's being 'down-home' and which part of down-home you come from.”

James Brown once wrote, “I wasn't just a fan, I was his brother. He said I was good and I said he was good; we never argued about that. Elvis was a hard worker, dedicated, and God loved him ... I love him and hope to see him in heaven. There'll never be another like that soul brother.”

Muhammad Ali admired Elvis. “When I was 15 years old and saw Elvis on TV, I wanted to be Elvis,” said Ali. “Other kids in the neighborhood were listening to Ray Charles and James Brown, but I listened to Elvis. I admired him so much and I decided that if I was going to be famous, I’d do it just like him. He’s one of the reasons I wanted to entertain people and be loved by the people and make the girls admire me so much.” He later developed a friendship with Elvis.

There is evidence Elvis donated money to civil rights organizations. (link) (and charitable organizations)

tl;dr Elvis wasn’t racist, and he had no intention fo stealing music. He thought he was just another singer of those genres of music which he admired. He didn’t even think he was that good. He believed there were many black singers much better than him. He credited black people as the sources of the music he performed, and never thought he was king of anything. He loved, respected, and was inspired by black performers, and many of them loved him back.

The fact that interpreting black people’s music made Elvis more rich and famous than black performers was mostly the fault of the racist white public. He appreciated black music and black performers, who were role models to him, while the white public refused to listen to black people’s music unless it was performed by a white person. He did try to use his success to help black performers break racial barriers though, and his success did maybe open the door for black performers to gain access to the mainstream public.

tl;dr again: Elvis had a sincere affection for gospel, soul, and R&B, and a willingness to acknowledge his debt to the African-American musicians who had influenced him.

Elvis had problems, but being racist in this way wasn’t one of them.

If you hate him for other reasons, that’s fine, because the man was problematic as hell, especially regarding women.

#elvis #elvis presley #essay #elvis was not racist #elvis had problems but not racism #elvis lovers #elvis haters #elvis essay #racism #wrongly accused #wrong #providing facts

19 notes · View notes

bklynmusicnerd · 8 months

Note

They really did segregation today segregation tomorrow on this episode. They really separated Trina and all the other black characters at home while everyone else was at Wyndemere for the repass. They also had the audacity to have Esme have a grave in the same cemetery as Spencer and had Liz of all people grieving her?!? Had Trina and Cam interact for like 1 minute but the rest of the episode he and Joss were sharing memories instead of all three of them?!? Trina had 30 second scenes, but the rest of the family, who didn’t give a fuck about him, had more scenes. Spencer’s funeral wasn’t even the focus because it went right back to Sonny and his shit and Gregory/Finn’s shit😑

Yeah I just got done watching it and I'm disappointed at all the missed opportunities that are occurring but I'm not surprised. Before I get into it, I wanna credit TA again for playing the physicality of Trina's grief/depression so consistently. Grief isn't always loud tears. Losing someone is exhausting. It makes you weary. And as much as the script is falling short, TA's acting isn't. That's what's making the storytelling choices so frustrating.

C&D allowing Lucky Gold on breakdown (who is also credited on the infamous cabin episode) and Kate Hall on script to effectively disappear the black mourners once the memorial moved to Wyndemere is a pretty egregious legacy to leave behind. Again, this racial segregation in the storytelling is not just bad optics, IT'S BAD STORYTELLING. Emotional beats were missed because of this idea that Trina's family and Spencer's family cannot interact for longer than two minutes.

The problem isn't the writing for Trina's depression. It actually makes total sense for her character and the way she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, to perceive Spencer's death as a personal failure of hers and punish herself for it. The problem is there's no way Cam, Joss and Ava wouldn't be spending a lot of that time at Wyndemere concerned about Trina? I mean, they had Laura, Joss, and Cam looking at this scrapbook of Spencer pictures that Nik allegedly collected and the majority of them feature Trina.

It actually looked insane how hard they had to work to give these people dialogue discussing Spencer's journey that didn't mention Trina. Honestly the fact that they prioritized punishing Nik over that Esme bullshit so much that he wasn't even allowed to attend his son's fake funeral is a testament to how badly they're handling this presumed death arc.

Even the eulogy that Alexis gave made me laugh because she said something about how in the blink of an eye he became this confident young man who took responsibility for his choices. Uh, yeah, no, Spencer came back to town a bitter and angry young man who was stunted emotionally. Trina entering his life is what inspired Spencer to become the man that Alexis described. And Spencer himself said that many, many times.

Yes, he admired Cam and wanted to be like him, but those two didn't really bond until Spencer needed someone to confide in about his stupid hero plan to save Trina. It's the only reason Cam stood by him. The HS trio should have been the emotional center of this memorial. Instead, Spencer's family honored him by barely acknowledging the girl he loved so much he "died" for her. Because the writers decided maintaining their Generally White Hospital tradition (thank you to VA for that fitting title) was more important.

Trina and Spencer's story (and the sheer buzz around it) should be inspiring an integration of the canvas. Instead, it's being told poorly so they can enforce some pretty archaic storytelling politics. I really hope PM brings an end to that shit because it genuinely does mess up the flow of the story, disregards existing relationships and makes me uncomfortable when it comes to watching this soap.

There are shows from the sixties that aren't as strictly racially segregated as GH was today. I shouldn't even have to explain why that's not sustainable for a show trying to carve a future for itself. The writing culture under C&D's leadership was truly fucked up.

That said, this would have been a much stronger episode if we had SP or CG on script. They keep assigning these key aftermath episodes to writers who are clearly not comfortable writing long or in-depth pov for Trina. It's a poor choice, especially when we know it's a fake death and Trina is going to be key to his return. It's just unforced error after unforced error and that is why you don't see anyone seriously mourning the loss of C&D.

#general hospital #trina robinson #spencer cassadine #another episode where the writing is falling short of the acting #they should be ashamed

6 notes · View notes

breithenua · 10 months

Text

I still think Tobirama was bigoted. Sorrynotsorry. You can't tell me that him looking at Sasuke and basically saying "Oh an Uchiha eh? Of course you'd associate with scum like Orochimaru" wasn't bigotry. Him automatically associating his standing next to Orochimaru as making sense because he's an Uchiha? Pretty fucking bigoted.

Him deciding that all Uchiha were more susceptible to going off the deep end when they lost someone they loved, based on a few cases when he had counterpoints in Uchiha he actually worked with? Pretty bigoted.

Him making them the ninja military police force may seem well-intentioned, but making the anbu that basically had the same job but higher on the totem pole with no Uchiha in it, kinda makes it bigoted too.

Look, I'm not saying he's fucking Danzo and wanting to wipe them the fuck out or segregating them from the rest of the village. I'm not saying he's not well-intentioned towards them for the most part. But not every case of bigotry is "oh those damn [x group], the world would be better without them in it.". There's levels to this shit. Je's kinda like your grandpa that tries his best to be nice and respectful towards your non-white s.o. but as soon as something goes missing from the house during a house party the first person he suspects of being a thief is said s.o. He's trying his best, but old habits die hard.

And I'm not saying Tobirama was ultimately a bad person either. He did a lot of good for the village and created a lot of systems that still exist in the Boruto era. But he wasn't without his imperfections. He was bigoted towards the Uchiha. He tried his best to be fair and ignore the bias and leftover PTSD from decades in which he fought against the Uchiha during the Warring States period, but that doesn't mean he succeeded. The sooner y'all realize that whether someone is bigoted or not isn't a question of extremes, the better you're gonna be towards marginalized groups, and the better you'll be as people. And the sooner you realize that just because someone is what you consider a good person, that doesn't mean they can't be display toxic behaviours, the sooner you can be well-adjusted adults in the world.

We all have our flaws, and if you don't acknowledge not just other's flaws in a reasonable way, but your own as well, then you can't do anything to improve upon them. Be open-minded about hearing your heros' flaws, and your own.

0 notes

auroradivine · 3 years

Text

So I came across a white person trying to tell a Black person (who regularly observed and celebrated Juneteenth - the holiday most white people just... umm... "discovered" 😏) what Juneteenth is and what it means.

😑

Let's call her Caucasity Karen, shall we?

So... under this youtube video in the comments section of one of the sub-threads under it, Caucasity Karen explains to the sistah (and by extension, all of us Black people present) that Juneteenth is about healing and inclusion. You see... Sistah Soldier (that's what we are calling the Black Woman here) stated that while she does appreciate white people learning about this holiday and maybe even celebrating it, she also expects for them to not invite themselves to the Juneteenth barbecue. As it is not that kind of party.

Sistah Soldier is right, by the way.

Caucasity Karen apparently got sucker-punched right in the privilage. Must have hurt like a mug, because that's when she decided to - you guessed it - invite herself to the Juneteenth barbecue; citing that it is about inclusion (she didn't add the healing part yet - clearly she was making this up as she went along here) and that she will metaphorically show up unless (she thought she was slick here) unless Juneteenth is *not* bout inclusion and unity but is instead about segregation and separation. She ended that with a wink emoji, too. (No she didn't. But I just *feel like* she winked after typing that shit, though. Na'mean?)

🙄😒

Sistah Soldier tried to be civil. Told Caucasity Karen that Juneteenth was about healing. And that she cant be invited to join in our healing from the damage white people implemented on us to begin with. But Caucasity Karen wasn't hearing it. While she did then acknowledge that Juneteenth is "also" about healing, it was also about unity. And that we should stop acting like we are wounded and not slap away a hand that is trying to unite with us.

😐😐😐😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑

Now... I'm actually getting ready for my family's Juneteenth barbecue as we speak. So I didn't and don't have time to... umm... "educate" Caucasity Karen as I would have loved to. And I got the sense that Sistah Soldier is in the same boat, cause she stopped engaging last I checked. But I want to say something to the white people that may read this:

White people.... white people....

Don't do that.

Do not.. do that... shit.

Aht, aht, AHT!!

Don't you muthafuckin dare.

Juneteenth is to celebrate us no longer being chattle slaves. That's it. Yeah, some healing can, has, and will continue to be done this day as well, but make no mistake: we are celebrating our *freedom* from one of the more major forms of oppression Instituted by white people.

Respect the holiday for what it is. Or leave it the fuck alone.

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

#HappyJuneteenth ✊🏾✊🏾✊🏾

#juneteenth

6 notes · View notes

kingofthewilderwest · 4 years

Note

"#just because you have a bias about certain socioeconomic groups which tend to listen to country doesn't mean" // Yup. I tend to side-eye folks who are like "I like all kinds of music except country and [Insert a genre of music usually associated with Black creators like rap and hip hop]" You're not slick, ppl. I know what you're saying.

^^^^^^^^^ You hit the nail on the head.

It’s racial bias. It’s socioeconomic bias. It’s bias against people groups who have less respect and say in society.

From my tags on this post:

#don’t get me started on a long rant of the progressive side of country music and what’s been progressive FOR DECADES#from times near its BEGINNInGS#through the modern age#just because you have a bias about certain socioeconomic groups which tend to listen to country doesn’t mean#that that’s actually what the genre is or who the artists are#I could go for a LONNNNG time about this#a LONG time#some of the best protest songs I know of today’s current political situation#are country#or have like ya’ll forgotten about the folk revival#of the 1960s#or…#gahghfnfddhgnghfngh#I AM GAY AND I LISTEN TO COUNTRY#NYEH!!!!

Now. I understand disinterest in a genre because it’s not your aesthetic, but when people express their feelings for country, R&B, hip-hop, etc. …the dialogue isn’t casual “It’s not my thing.” The dialogue is a hateful, passionate retaliation.

Other genres aren’t treated like this. It’s normalized and encouraged to hate on country and rap. These genres are systematically treated with less respect and that disrespect culturally arose because these genres are associated with less-respected demographics.

(Country music is associated with people of low socioeconomic status, for people who aren’t explicitly aware.)

Anecdotally: I’ve caught something interesting about anti-country music sentiment. Many people tell me they can’t stand the “twang.” Half the time, I’ve noticed that their internalized definition of “twang” isn’t the vocal technique; it’s that they can’t stand the presence of a Southern accent. And hooboy does that have TONS of sociocultural bias issues. As a linguist, I’ve read endless sociolinguistic studies about how Southern dialects are treated as “lesser,” and how speakers of the dialect are automatically judged to be less intelligent, etc. It’s not good, folks.

Sometimes, to help friends get out of their anti-country mindset, I’ve “tricked” them into liking country. See, genres like bluegrass grew closely out of Scots-Irish folk music. Often, we’re playing the same tunes on both sides of the Atlantic. So I play a few instrumentals, my friend goes, “Oh! I love Celtic music

The biases against those demographics color how people view the music. There’s endless things that can be said about hip-hop bias, holy shit. I won’t focus on that today because I don’t believe I am qualified to be a spokesman. Someone who understands that genre better, and other genres associated with the African-American community, and is African-American, would be a better human to listen to than me. I defer to their knowledge and experience. It’s hella important to understand what bias has been reflected against those genres.

But there’s just as much bias against country music, against another demographic. And I’ve found it wild how it gets treated on places like tumblr, which wants to stand up for underprivileged groups, but somewhat inaccurately associates country music as “anti-gay conservative evil white person music” rather than music of people historically of lower socioeconomic status.

Yes, some of the demographic that listens to country music or plays country music are bad apples. But like… thinking the music is JUST THAT is a huge disservice to what country actually is and who the music artists actually are.

The history of country music is one giant collaborative melting pot of people from many different cultural backgrounds. Broad West African influence. Mexican influence. Italian influence. German influence. Scots-Irish influence. Cherokee influence. More. Early record labels like OKEH foolishly separated “hillbilly music” (presumably white folk music) from “rhythm and blues” (presumably Black folk music) without understanding the constant racial, demographic, regional, and cultural cross-pollination that occurred between the musicians from country music’s origins. And while there ARE certain issues in country music’s past and present, and we can’t let those issues go forgotten, that’s far from the whole story. We shouldn’t romanticize issues, but we should acknowledge that this music genre has given us major strides too.

Country music is the banjo, brought from Africa, combined with the mandolin, brought from Italy, combined with the fiddle, brought from Ireland, combined with the guitar and the dobro and the accordion and the upright bass and the electric guitar and the electric bass and whatever instruments you want to put in there.

Country music is African-American musicians like DeFord Bailey, the first radio star ever introduced on the Grand Ole Opry (THE most revered country music hub out there), blues harmonica performer, playing to crowds decades before segregation was de-legalized. He toured with white Opry musicians who treated him as one of their own. It’s soul music genre pioneer Ray Charles producing a studio album entirely dedicated to country music hits like “Hey Good Lookin’” from Hank Williams. It’s country star Charley Pride, who despite the racism against him in the 1960s rose to fame and made audiences fall in love with his beautiful voice. It’s the African-American musicians who inspired many commercial country stars, like Arnold Shultz influencing Bill Monroe and the railroad workers inspiring Jimmie Rodgers.

Country music is stars like Johnny Rodriguez and Rick Treviño, singing country music in Spanish, and using obvious Latin flavors in the genre.

Country music is filled with badass women like the ladies who STARTED THE GENRE ROLLING IN THE FIRST PLACE, Sara Carter and Mother Maybelle Carter (whose guitar style is hugely influential to this day) and Maybelle’s daughters Helen, June, and Anita; the first female music manager in the music industry, Louise Scruggs; songwriters like Felice Bryant and Loretta Lynn; the most awarded female artist in Grammy history Alison Krauss; and powerhouses like Dolly Parton who stepped out of an over-controlling entertainer’s shadow to become a badass in all things like supporting the LGBTQ community, contributing to pro-transgender films ahead of their time, and starring in sex worker positive productions like “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.”

Country music is filled with activism. Johnny Cash showed a heart for those forgotten by society. He toured many times in prisons. Cash especially was an activist for Native American rights. He toured with Native American songwriters so audiences could hear their own words (I’ve been trying to find names but I’m having difficulties re-finding that information, so my apologies for not giving names of those who deserve to be mentioned). Cash released albums dedicated to exposing past and present injustices against the Native American people. He went on tours specifically to Native American reservations.

And it’s not just Johnny Cash!

Country music is many stars from the Grand Ole Opry banding together to release AIDS benefit albums - big names like Alison Krauss, Willie Nelson, Marty Stuart, aurgh I’m too lazy to write them all, PEOPLE.

Country music is Earl Scruggs and his sons playing at the Vietnam War Protests.

Country music is tied in with the fucking folk revival of the 1960s, which was deep in left-wing activism and the Civil Rights Movement. Folk singers sang traditional Appalachian and English ballads alongside their own compositions, topical pieces protesting the current political situation. You can call one artist “folk” or “Americana” and another one “country,” but the influences were intermingling, and it’s why we have Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie and Joan Baez and John Denver and Pete Seeger owning a banjo that says, “This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender.”

Dammit, I have a full BOOK that discusses country music and political ties.

There’s another book out there, which I haven’t read, that discusses the relationship between country music and the queer community, and how bias against country music is NOT as reflective of the listening demographic as we stereotype. I’ll take the word of one reviewer who said:

[Nadine Hubbs] explores country music lyrics, presenting a great deal of evidence suggesting that working class America is not inherently homophobic, but that as middle class cultural taste has changed to include formal acceptance of homosexuality, this process has included pinning homophobic ideas on the working class.

Country music is lyrics like this 1975 controversial song “The Pill”:

You wined me and dined meWhen I was your girlPromised if I’d be your wifeYou’d show me the worldBut all I’ve seen of this old worldIs a bed and a doctor billI’m tearing down your brooder house‘Cause now I’ve got the pillAll these years I’ve stayed at homeWhile you had all your funAnd every year that’s gone byAnother baby’s comeThere’s a-gonna be some changes madeRight here on nursery hillYou’ve set this chicken your last time‘Cause now I’ve got the pill

Country music is lyrics like this 2013 song that feels as relevant than ever:

If crooks are in charge, should we let them pick our pockets?If we don’t want trouble, should we not try to stop it?We could just sink into the quicksand slavery we’re born inBut fighting endless wars for greedy liars is getting pretty boringThey think they got us trained, so we’ll think we’re living freeIf we got time and money for junk food and TVBut it’s plain honest people never stand a chance of winning electionsThey just let us pick which liars take our rights away for our own protectionThe corporate propaganda paralyzes us with fearDestroying our ability to trustFear keeps us fighting with each other over scrapsStarving to death in the dustOrganized religion really helps you submitBut the meek are inheriting the short end of the stickFear surrounds compassion like a layer of moldAnd weakens our defenses so we’re too weak to be boldLife could be heaven, but this corrupted systemTakes away our rights, expects us not to miss themThe middle class is shrinking while the lower class growsIf we don’t wake up soon, we’ll have no class left to lose

Country music is Christians themselves criticizing the hypocritical Evangelical culture in the USA for the bullshit hatefulness stewing inside it:

Every house has got a Bible and a loaded gunWe got preachers and politicians‘Round here it’s kinda hard to tell which oneIs gonna do more talkin’ with a crooked tongue

And as that one post I just reblogged shows, there’s MANY queer country musicians out there producing explicitly pro-LGBTQ+ music.

I’m brushing over so much. I’m sorry for the simplification that goes with me doing such a pass-by overview. I’m sorry I’m focusing more on history than the present (I know more about the 1920s-1960s eras, so I’m talking from my strong suit). I hope the information is at least strong enough to get my point across.

There are definitely listeners and artists in country music who are uber-conservative white hateful Christians. Yes. I know why country music gets associated with that. But.

Country music is not ABOUT this uber-conservative white hateful Christian side. The genre is not “polluted”. It is a thousand voices from a thousand perspectives of people from many backgrounds and beliefs. And many of those thousand voices are old traditional songs that came from Black communities, or were composed by Mexican-Americans, or were performed by folk artists as part of a protest for equal rights.

(Note: I’m *NOT* saying all Christians are bad or that different political angles don’t have merits. I’m Christian myself! And you don’t know my political party. I’m just trying to get the point across that country music isn’t ENTRENCHED in one questionable demographic.)

You don’t have to like country music. It doesn’t have to be your aesthetic. But if you find it fun to get in on society’s popular country hate roasting… please rethink this. The reason country music has been hated from its roots is because it’s associated with the socioeconomically disadvantaged.

I’m with you 100%, Ashley. When someone says they like all genres “except country music and rap,” I get a little leery. I used to be one of those people when I was younger. I had to learn to grow past those biases. But once I did, I realized there was so much I was hating on that I didn’t understand. Now, I hope I can help people overcome their own biases, such as ones they don’t realize they’ve had - for things like music.

Hi ya’lls. I’m queer and I love country.

P.S. If anyone has anything to add or correct, please feel free to add on! I’m doing my best but I do not know everything and would be happy to learn more, too!

#ashleybenlove #long post #music #non-dragons #that banjo business #analysis #my analysis #music analysis #note that there's a version of this post where it's been reblogged and added on and I chat about Elvis and stuff #but the starting text is from an earlier version of this post #where I had a number of typos #XD I know they're there but I can't change those hahahahaha #I changed them here #reblog whichever version you desire though of course!#but just so you know there's a few minor factual typos in the non-edited version #I was hahaha so excited that I typed fast when I wrote it XD

90 notes · View notes

apollos-favourite-bastard · 3 years

Text

I’m going to say this once, and honestly probably several more times while defending my stance, but here goes- Gate keepers are bad people, and almost everyone agrees on that. We all hate the people who gatekeep different bits of culture, as is right. They’re selfish people, and arrogant, too, believing that they get to dictate who does and doesn’t get to participate in something. The act of gatekeeping is, in and of itself, hostile and bigoted. It depends on one placing their own self higher than those around them and passing judgement, trying to push someone out of a space because they find that they are more rightfully entitled to that space than someone else.

There are two very bad fronts of this in the LGBTQIA+ community in particular. The first, which is very well known and acknowledged, but not what this post is about, are TERFs and other groups that are transphobic in nature. Fuck TERFs is an extremely common sentiment on tumblr, as it should be, because fuck TERFs. TERFs are bigots, and their stance comes from a place of bigotry. We mostly all agree on this, except for the TERFs who think that they’re rightful and justified in their bigotry, and nothing that I say, think, feel or do is going to change that. Until they recognize their own bigotry and realize that they don’t want to be hate filled sacks of pus shaped like a human, they’re going to continue to be hate filled sacks of pus shaped like a human. However, most of the LGBTQIA+ community agrees that TERFs are bigots and wants nothing to do with them.

So, why do we give aro/ace exclusionists a pass? Why do we, as a community, not band together to fight it the same way that we do with TERFs? Why do we look at this gatekeeping of our community and not feel disgust in the same way that we do with TERFs? Why do some people in our community think that they have the right to exclude others?

Well, I have a theory about that, although I’m going to say up front that it’s just my opinion. Ace/aro people have, for quite a long time, been partially invisible. Up until the advent and popularization of social media, and even to this day in a way, the LGBTQIA+ community has been pretty heavily segregated. At first, this was out of necessity. People opened gay and lesbian bars and clubs decades ago, out of necessity. We built specific spaces for ourselves because that was literally crucial to our survival. While our communities banded together when necessary, there was always a sort of rivalry or distaste for other members of the community if they fell under a different letter. This was heavily present all the way up until the early 2010s. As a teenager in the aughties, I saw so many examples of queer people who didn’t like other letters on principle, because they had nothing in common with one another, and that hasn’t exactly vanished. I knew gay men who hated lesbians, lesbians who hated gay men, both who hated bisexual people- The list goes on.

Then Myspace and Facebook happened, and people began finding solidarity with one another without having to be in a shared space. People began sharing their experiences, and became more comfortable expressing themselves. While pride has existed for decades, it wasn’t nearly as accepted or widespread as it became AFTER social media exposed people to the realization that these communities encompass more people than they realized, and also encompassed people that they knew and cared about. It eased the way for a second wave of the LGBTQIA+ rights movement that helped the community gain several rights, including marriage rights, adoption rights and legal protections. It eased tensions, particularly in the gay and lesbian communities, and paved the way for the more solidarity focused community that we have today.

HOWEVER

After gaining these things, many members of the community decided that that was enough. Discrimination against gays and lesbians had lessened, and acceptance had become more mainstream, so they stopped giving a shit. Trans issues didn’t affect them, so they didn’t care. Ace issues didn’t affect them, so they didn’t care, and they stopped fighting for the other members of the community. That doesn’t apply to everyone, but it applies to more people than anyone should be comfortable with.

Like I said before, the communities were pretty segregated, and we continue to be. What so many people don’t realize is that our community only has strength together. People under the LGBTQIA+ umbrella represent a sizeable chunk of the population, but each individual group doesn’t represent that much on their own. We don’t have power on our own. Unlike religious or racial minorities, the LGBTQIA+ community is completely random. Anyone could fit into it. The people in our community don’t necessarily have the same experiences. And while shared experience was a founding principle of our community out of necessity, it cannot continue to be so.

Let me explain that point, because I feel like people are not going to realize that it’s the entire point of this post unless I highlight it. Defining our community based on trauma and discrimination was, at the time, necessary. In order to increase our safety, we clumped together, because there’s strength in numbers. There’s also the completely human desire for community because as a species we are not designed to go at it completely alone. Shared experience is a good foundation for that, and if that shared experience is negative, it can make those bonds all the stronger. But that also creates a system wherein the validity of people’s experiences is judged on a sliding scale, which creates the even more unpleasant sliding scale of validity applied to a person’s existence and position in our community.

In particular, this is applied to aro/ace people, bisexual people, and transgender and nonbinary people. There are so many arguments that I could write a book on the subject, but there are more talented and knowledgeable people than I am who have written on the subject, and I implore people to seek out literature and media that can help them understand these things. But I made this post, and I’m going to talk about the main argument that I have seen applied, which is privilege.

Privilege is something I know all too well about having, as a cis white man. It has kept me safe where other people would not have been, and given me more power than I have deserved at times. I do my best to amplify voices that are shouted over, without speaking over them myself, and while I hope I have done a good job of that, I know and openly acknowledge that I am not perfect and have probably messed up too many times to count. I know that when I was younger, I certainly was not as supportive as I could or should have been to people who needed that support, because I saw someone different than I am reaching out for help, and decided it wasn’t my problem. That made me part of the problem. Over time, I have been humbled, sometimes painfully, and forced to recognize that privilege. I am not proud of things that I have done and said. I am embarrassed by who I used to be, and strive every day to be better than I was the day before. I don’t always get it right, but I am trying.

The point of that isn’t to pat myself on the back, or say ‘look how much I’ve grown!’. It’s to tell you that I have been in that place. I have seen someone different than I am and decided to keep quiet and turn a blind eye to their suffering. I have thought to myself ‘they haven’t had to struggle with the things that I have had to struggle with, so it’s not my business’. It’s also to say that privilege is a WILDLY inappropriate way to gauge someone’s position in a community.

Our community cannot and must not continue to use the meter-stick of privilege to judge the validity of someone’s worth and place in our community. It promotes its own kind of bigotry. That’s not to say that cis or white people in the community shouldn’t examine their own experiences and privilege, because we should. What I mean is that it shouldn’t be used to JUDGE someone else. Aro/Ace people and bisexual people have somehow gotten the reputation as having privilege because they are’ more easily able to blend with cishet society’, and are therefore safer and less oppressed, but that’s a bullshit argument. Trauma and oppression cannot continue to be the way we determine someone’s worth. What we should be fighting for is for discrimination to end, not for people who are more oppressed to be the only valid voices in our community. It is tearing our community apart when we need to stand together.

Otherwise we aren’t a community, we’re just a bunch of different people only standing with those who are like us, and nobody else, which is exactly how systems of oppression have been maintained throughout all of human history. People point to the most different group from themselves and say ‘they’re different, and different is bad, so they’re bad’. That’s the insidious nature of bigotry at work, and I refuse to allow myself to fall into that trap. I refuse to be a part of the problem anymore, and that means that I’m not going to keep quiet on subjects like discrimination against people just because their experiences are different than my own.

People who gatekeep communities are coming from a place of bigotry, and it has to stop. People have to speak up about it, and I hope that they do it better and less rambling than I have. TERFs and exclusionists and racists are too prevalent in this community, and we have let their bigotry form the insidious cracks that will tear this community apart if they aren’t spoken out against.

#ace positivity #aro positivity #ace and aro people are ALWAYS welcome #I will always stand with you

4 notes · View notes

thecompostpile · 4 years

Text

Ice Cream Essay 5- Fuck Cops Eat Ice Cream

It was just something a friend told me in passing. They had worked at an ice cream shop one summer just a way to make a little money to buy weed and gas. Working with ice cream, from what I’ve heard, isn’t a very glamorous job but I imagine there are worse summer jobs. That will be a conversation for another time. This story goes to a time we were just hanging out smoking and shooting the shit. He told me a story of why his day had been crummy.

“I made this cop an ice cream cone and he just walked out with it. Didn’t pay, didn’t tip nothing.”

“Wait no way”

“Yeah it was so fuckong weird. He didn’t even ask if it was free he just walked out with it.”

That was probably the better part of a decade ago and I don’t think about this story a lot. At the time it was important to me though. I was in the middle of getting a political science degree from a liberal arts college in upstate Connecticut and it was being broken down in front of me why cops were bad. Here was another small but perfect example of why cops scared the ever living shit out of me. Cops have no shame. If they want ice cream they literally just take the ice cream and walk out. And what are you supposed to do? Call the cops.

The police force in this country is completely unchecked. It’s disgusting. A mad dog so insane with hate and rabies it doesn’t remember cuddling with anyone on the couch it only wants to bite anyone that comes near it right in the leg. This is the case for as long as I have been politically conscious but it has been happening much longer than that. I was in college when Freddy Gray happened, I had been in a jail cell around the same time police murdered Sandra Bland. I argued in my class about how Eric Garner being choked out on the street was unconstitutional with a conservative freshmen who I would bullshit with. His argument still sticks in my brain.

“He was murdered for selling cigarettes on the side of the street.”

“Well it is illegal.”

That’s what the other side of this thinks. He was a smart kid in a sense that he understood things and could speak elegantly. BUT how fucking stupid do you need to be to say that. Is it even stupidity or is it just pure cold hearted hatred. The man was choked out on the side of the street. I’ve wandered off here though. I am trying to keep the ever consistent theme of fuck cops and fuck every bootlicking chump that likes cops.

Let’s bring this back to ice cream. So this pig just thought it was okay to walk into an ice cream shop, one that he was supposed to both “serve and protect”. Let’s say he ordered a hot fudge sundae with some nuts, whip cream, a cherry. He’s a fat cop obviously with a stupid 90s tv dad walrus mustache. He’s a slob so some of the hot fudge dribbles onto his chin while he takes the first bite. Then on his heels he just turns and slides out whistling while he doesn’t hold the door for a lady with a stroller.

A cop in my town starts off at 59,000 dollars a year so he certainly has the money to pay for this ice cream. But you know maybe he comes in a lot right, he has something worked out with the dipshit owner who licks boots as much as he licks ice cream. To not even tip for your free ice cream though is so fucked up.

Note: tip at least a buck for your ice cream people. More if you can.

It was free, you paid nothing for it. At the very least acknowledge the labor that went into it. Cops aren’t workers though. They are the state mandated protection of only rich white people and stolen property. We absolutely need to abolish the entire police force. There is no other option; it is rotten to its core.

Now let us just quickly think of what would happen if that police officer was in the store and a black man did the same thing, walked out with ice cream for free. There is a highly likely chance the black man would be shot. Black men have been shot for much less in this country. At the very least the man could be arrested, placed in jail and lose his right to vote once out. What makes this cop special that he is allowed to break the law.

There is a system behind it too. The Frank Capra ideals of an old timey america. The 50s when you had the milk dropped off, took a date for an egg cream at the drugstore, hot rods and segregated schools. Cracking a joke with your high school buddy who was one of the cops in town but never did much but twirl his baton around and whistle. Then if something surprising would happen his eyes would pop out of his head. You know the America everyone loved. Jimmy Stewart is there laughing it up with someone he hasn’t seen in a while. You only feel that way because you aren’t Emmit Till though.

There is this patriotic ideals behind loving these dumb moron cops. It could come from wearing it like a badge of honor that you are not considered a criminal to them. That is an optimistic outlook though when the real answer is more than likely just racism.

How else could a man just grab an ice cream and pretend it was free to him. Think of the other things this person must be able to do with his god complex given to him because of a badge. How any stupid fucking bully is able to go to school for six minutes, promise to beat up and harass black people and other people of color to keep a billion dollar free labor industrial prison system going, can just put on a ugly light blue button up shirt and some shinny badges that mean nothing and now they think they can do anything they want.

Some stupid asshole was just farting up his police car by himself and laughing is bored enough to harass a black women with a tail light out. When she is tired and sick of his obvious bullshit that she has been aware of her entire life, he is too dumb to realize that his wife is mad because he forgot to flush his turd down the toilet. Then when he doesn’t like her response he can arrest her. What scares me about police videos is how powerless it looks. There is no arguing with these gooey cupcake batter mother fuckers. They do whatever they want. They walk in order ice cream and walk out without paying for it.

This becomes even more terrifying when you see they are killing people on the streets. They are killing children on the streets. They are tear gassing protestors. Shooting rubber bullets at journalists. That same cop who stole ice cream, is fine using his badge and light blue shirt to walk out with free ice cream, breaking the own rules set by capitalism he was set to enforce. Obviously he has on reason for breaking other rules set up by capitalism. He has no rules he will do whatever he wants. Kill, beat and humiliate anyone he wants. Take whatever he wants and walk out a free man, ice cream in hand, hot fudge on his chin.

#ice cream #acab #cops #fuck cops #ice cream essays

3 notes · View notes

vintagereigns · 4 years

Text

#BLACKLIVESMATTER

First and foremost, I know that I don’t have many followers on here and maybe no-one will even read this. But that’s okay because even if no one reads this, I am using my voice and my privilege to stand with those who may not have either. Also, I want to point out that since I have found out what happened to George Floyd, I have been hesitant on what to say and how to say it because this matter is VERY important and needs to be addressed with certainty and power.

I am white and I acknowledge that. I do have white privilege and I also acknowledge that. And I have a voice, whether people listen or not, that may help someone down the road.

While donating is important, money isn’t what I believe the Black community is looking for. They are looking for peace, for respect, and for EQUALITY. They shouldn’t have to EARN the right to be accepted in society- they are be born with the right to be accepted as human beings. For centuries the Black community has fought with the White community, and over what? Because their skin is a darker color? Why should that define who a person is? They are HUMAN BEINGS just like you and they deserve as many rights as you do.

To the Black community, I want to say I am sorry. I am sorry to the families who have lost loved ones due to racial violence. I want to say I’m sorry to the people who deal with racism on the daily. I want to say I am sorry for Blacks being watched over while they’re in stores. I am sorry for the unjust that you have been served. I am sorry for the pain and the hurt that you continuously deal with because of your skin color. I am sorry for the racists and the white supremacists and the looks you get and the way you are treated during inappropriate times. I am so so sorry. And I am also sorry that it takes your people dying for the world to realize what’s going on.

Black people have been let down for centuries because of other races, especially the whites. Black people have been burdened with slavery, racism, segregation. Imagine what they feels like. Imagine for a moment what constantly living in fear feels like. Imagine what constantly having to look over your shoulder feels like. Imagine being profiled out of a position at work because of your skin color. Imagine being pulled over for nothing but because of your skin color. Imagine watching your friend or family member dying because of your skin color. Imagine not being heard because of your skin color. Just imagine for a moment what that life would be like and then realize that that’s a reality for black people. Fear and unjust is the reality for the black community.

How can we, as a whole damn universe, let them be treated like that? Oh, because it’s them and not us? We don’t have to go through it, so why say or do anything, right? Wrong. Abso-fucking-lutely wrong! They are people just like you, just like me. They are mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, nurses and doctors, gas station workers and mechanics, lawyers and judges JUST LIKE YOU! The ONLY difference there is between us is what we look like and it’s about damn time people stop judging and discriminating others due to artificial things such as their skin tone.

One of my favorite Youtubers said something along the lines of “Black Lives Matter is not political. It’s a human right movement” in one of her videos. And I completely stand by her words. These aren’t politics, these are basic human rights. The cops involved should be prosecuted for standing around while an innocent black man was being murdered and laws against racism should be better and more criminal. Murder shouldn’t have a skin color because MURDER IS MURDER.

And to the people who are saying “it’s not just black lives that matter, all lives matter.” Yeah, no shit. But all lives aren’t the ones fighting for the right as a human to be accepted into society, are they? All lives do matter, but right now the lives that matter are the ones that are fighting for their lives.

Be anti-racist. Educate yourselves and help the ones who need it. NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE.

#blacklivesmatter #blacklivesalwaysmatter #dearblackcommunity #EQUALITY

2 notes · View notes

tessatechaitea · 5 years

Text

Teen Titans Spotlight #1: Starfire

Comics in 1986: "Let's begin our new series with Starfire battling Apartheid!" Asshole Fans in 2019: "Comics should go back to the good old days when they weren't political!"

Really, M&M's? Everyone? Haven't you heard about Apartheid?!

So far the craziest thing about this comic book to modern audiences is how boring M&M colors were in 1986. I suspect I don't have the maturity to comment on a story about Apartheid. Oh well! Let's do this! The story is called "Black and White" because, you see, Apartheid was about how whites and blacks experienced two disparate South Africas. It's also a play on how "black and white" is a way to describe issues that have easily recognizable positive and negative sides. It's probably racist that we automatically assume the black side is the negative side. Maybe that also plays into the title! Chess pieces are black and white too so maybe the title alludes to chess. Maybe something about pawns versus the gentry. Marv might even work in some bits about The Beatles seeing as how they're using that zebra crossing on the cover of Abbey Road. Starfire has just returned from Tamaran where she married that dweeby Prince Karras guy. He was Tamaran's version of Terry Long. I'm surprised more panels didn't show Starfire and Donna in the background giggling and holding their index fingers and thumb a teeny, tiny distance apart. Starfire didn't spend eighth grade on Earth so she never learned Earth geography. So instead of flying in from space and looking at Earth and going, "Okay, that's New York right there!", she winds up in South Africa. I bet she came at Earth upside down and got confused. It's easy to get confused in space where up and down don't exist in any objective way. Starfire descends upon a group of black people chanting "Informer" at a woman they eventually soak in gasoline and light on fire. Holy fuck! This comic book just got more real than all 114 issues of New Titans I just recently reread! Except maybe that part where Raven raped Starfire during Starfire's wedding. That was pretty heavy. The white police arrive to commit some justice. Unless I meant "racism" instead of "justice." Sometimes, living in America, it's hard to see the difference.

I bet this guy has a MAGA Twitter account.

How many of your racist family members often bring up black on black crime when discussing gun control or cops shooting unarmed black men? How many of those idiots don't think they're being racist when they bring up that argument and just think they're being logical? It's fucking racism, dudes. Cops killing unarmed black men has nothing to do with black men being killed by criminals who happen to share their same skin color. Nobody ever talks about "white on white" crime. That's just crime perpetuated by criminals against innocent people! But somehow a black person shooting another black person belongs in some kind of special category? Of course a black person is probably going to be the victim of a black criminal because America had this thing called white flight. It caused places to become poor black neighborhoods because white people couldn't handle having even one black neighbor. So people and businesses moved out, local governments ignored infrastructure of those areas (or purposefully simply just built freeways straight through them), and constantly sent the police in to hassle innocent people just trying to live their fucking lives. Systemic racism (and racists!) segregated the races in a fairly efficient manner. So when a black criminal looks for a victim in their neighborhood, of course they're going to almost certainly find a black victim! That's simply crime, not black on black crime. Maybe I would think differently if anybody ever at any time in any of these debates brought up white on white crime. Y'all realize that's the most prevalent crime there is, right? Which means whites are the biggest criminals of all. If you're, you know, going to argue that way, you stupid racist asshole. Plus saying black on black crime is just a way for people to intimate that most crime is caused by black people. "Even though they keep criming us whites, they still have time to crime up their own people!" This comic book taught me that South African police would use purple dye in water cannons to stain people during protests so that they can be identified later as people who participated in the riot that totally didn't erupt later due to the police being overly aggressive and also racist. Wolfman says people "affectionately" called it Purple Rain which led me down a rabbit hole to figure out which came first, the racist ploy to arrest as many people as possible or the Prince album. Apparently the dyed water was named after the Prince album. That's probably why it was an "affectionate" sobriquet.

I'm a little bit worried that Wolfman is about to "both sides" Apartheid.

Starfire winds up with the South African police who tell her all about how terrible South African blacks are and how she's going to get a medal for helping quell the protest. They also call the woman who burned to death a bitch so I'm getting the feeling that they're not really interested in any kind of justice or peace. It's quite possible that — hear me out on this — they just want to oppress the black citizens and make sure they know their place. But I don't want to jump to conclusions! I should wait until I hear their arguments in a frank and logical debate. "Please, white South Africans, explain to me how South Africa needs your violent tactics and racist attitudes to maintain peace and order. Also explain how peace and order aren't different from justice for everybody. I might be convinced to stop calling you racist if you debate well!"

This guy doesn't realize how true it is that he's teaching these black South Africans how to behave.

It would have been easy to read this, at one time, from a privileged position as a citizen of America and think that the white South Africans in this story were caricatures of racist monsters, playing up their terrible qualities to get the reader to sympathize with the plight of the black South Africans. But these caricatures of despicable and horrible systemic racism using tactics to dehumanize a segment of the population are absolute mirrors of Trump and his deplorables. "They're animals." "They're not like us." "They do not think." "They are like children." "They fight amongst themselves." "We are just securing the peace." "This is God's country." "They need to be taught how to behave." "Their flagrant disregard for the law must be stopped." And all of these statements are simply excuses to treat certain people as less than human. "They get what they deserve." I'm so fucking disappointed in so many Americans right now. Starfire is completely confused by everything she's seeing. In her confusion, some journalists get her to sort of say she's for Apartheid. Uh oh! The Teen Titans are going to get worse press than when they destroyed New York City while arguing with their parents about their curfew.

Starfire's response is me on Twitter every fucking day.

The South African leader, Racist McRacisthole, tells Starfire not to worry about the journalists because they're always asking terrible questions and lying about how awful everything is. But Starfire is all, "Just because I have big hair and big tits and my ass is hanging out, don't think I'm a fucking idiot! Not that I'm trying to say people who look like that are idiots! But I know terrible people like you, Mr. Racisthole, think like that! So I just want you to know that I see you! I see what you're doing and how you're trying to snow me with all this fucking dehumanizing garbage! You remind me of the Gordanians!" Then Starfire gets so angry and delivers such a passionate speech that her nose falls off.

"I'b not gobing do libben do yub liebs aby lobber!"

Starfire declares she never cared for politics and tells Governor Racisthole that she's leaving. But instead of going, "Good! Stop interfering with our terrible government!", he says, "I won't let you leave which will probably cause you to stay and help the oppressed!" Starfire hears a prisoner screaming in pain before she leaves and decides to stick around to help him. While doing so, she realizes that maybe she show these government officials real power! No, I don't mean she's going to flash her tits. Jesus. Some of you comic book nerds just don't stop, do you?! Sure, DC panders to your boners by putting Starfire in her underwear. But you do have the choice to stop being such creepy little fucks, you know?

Imagine reading this and instead of thinking, "You tell 'em, Starfire! Way to go!", you think, "Virtue signaler."

Starfire has some more thoughts from 1986 for us here in 2019. She just won't stop!

Virtue signaler!

I swear the rest of this commentary can just be scans of Starfire saying important shit.

I mean, if this 1986 comic book is an example of older comics that Comicsgaters want to go back to, I'm fucking up for that shit.

In the next panel that I'm not going to scan because I'll never finish reading this comic book if I scan every fucking panel, Starfire says, "Unwittingly, my father helped ruin our world by caving in to our enemies rather than fighting for what was right. I won't do that here on Earth. I've got to care." I should probably send that panel to Nancy Pelosi. Starfire frees all of the political prisoners and escorts them back to where they're forced to live outside the city. She tries to figure out what Apartheid means and Father Nelson Mandutu, the rebel leader the police have been searching for, tells her, "Ah, I see — you are trying to make sense of madness." It's as good a reason to dismiss people always pressing you to debate their terrible ideas and worthless topics. How can you win a debate against twisted logic and racist madness? Just ignore them when they call you a coward or an elitist when you refuse to debate. I was always taught that the best way to get shit off of your shoe is to scrape it off, not to get in an argument with it. Starfire follows Mandutu around for the day except for the one moment when he's kidnapped. When she goes to rescue him, she destroys an armory and discovers that Father Mandutu has been killed. BY HER! And there are cameras rolling! Totally not suspicious or anything! I bet we discover she was framed next issue! That's the kind of intelligent speculation you get from a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader like me. I can't be fooled even by the most subtle of plot twists! Teen Titans Spotlight #1: Starfire Rating: A. I should probably apologize to Marv Wolfman for all the insults I've made about his Teen Titans books. This was a well-written infotainment issue putting precisely the right character at the heart of an international travesty. And I thought a story about Apartheid was going to be boring! It's almost as if I forgot that every panel would have tons of side boob! Oh no! I just realized I'm one of those creepy little fucks!

#Teen Titans #Teen Titans Spotlight #Starfire #DC #DC Comics

7 notes · View notes

whiteanti · 5 years

Note

sry if that's gonna turn out long but i really want your onion on it. in relations to that anon who asked you abt white passing people - what do you think about "west asians" loool. like caucasians, not white europeans but people from the caucasus like armenians georgians azeris etc. personally i could never consider them poc lmao first of all demographic region such as west asia doesnt exist, most countries from that region are middle eastern and the ones who are not are BETWEEN europe and asia

and not to bring that up but armenians have been legally classified as white like 100 years ago, ntm how they never looked racialized in the first place its just that white americans considered anything that’s not white american as impure. like even white southern and eastern europeans. and cool you could say they’re white passing poc but there are not Any specific racialized features that make you go oh thats a poc.. its not fucking 2012 anymore we cant still push that race is social bullshit

(i think tumblr ate the 3rd or 2nd ask so im rewriting it) even if it was its still made to not only benefit them but put them on top. with tht circassian beauty shit that was spread among both europe and the global south w circassian women and their “big beautiful hair” as the beauty standard while black women were and still to this day are abused degraded etc for their hair then you have white ass circassians and other caucasians using as an argument about not being white that white russians call thm bl*ckies or the white version of the n word lmaooo can you believe… and like ok your ppl faced genocide and ethnic cleansing from white russians but how does that contribute to you being racialized ESP in the modern day world.

not only that but so many of them have pale skin, blue eyes, blonde hair like straight up cracker and they still insist on being poc just cuz they’re not Straight from mother europe. its just a caucasian online thing to claim the racialized experience for white ppl jokes access and extra oppression points.

if you ask the average middle aged lets say armenian person what race they are they’re gonna tell you white. and with the amount of anti asian sentiment in their communities how tf do they expect to be accepted as asian like they’re truly playing with us.

also wht bugs me is how they cant tell the difference btwn racism and xenophobia/ethnophobia sjhgahsj how do you insist on facing racism without being racialized? they face as much discrimination in white countries as any average white foreigner would but go explain that shit to them that if you’re not racialized you cant use the terms racism and xenophobia interchargeably.

to me the only asians are east, southeast, south, central and north, also anything mixed inbetween. all these crackers lite from the caucasus mountains can go fuck themselves and shove their forced victimization up their asses cuz at this point i’m so tired of their white asses trying to prove me they’re on the same level as us whn it comes to discrimination.

like yes s and se asians are way more discriminated than the rest of us but we (east central north) do face racial discrimination unlike caucasians lmao. and sure they face intergenerational trauma from the genocides of their countries but so do we, in way bigger amounts. thats why im so sceptical abt terms like visible poc cuz you either are a poc or not… they have so many tactics as a gotcha to racialized asians to make us seem as if we’re bigots who invalidate their genocides and talk so aimlessly abt it when all we want is for them to acknowledge their whiteness, white privilege, white guilt and self victimization against us. but anyways im so sry for making it this long but i needed to get if off my chest and you’re like the only person i know who can understand it and give a well thought out opinion. i rlly wish you all the best and good luck on all your exams 💓💓💓

btw for the previous asks i only said “mixed inbetween” bc i talked about monoracial asians specifically not that someone isnt asian if they’re mixed w black or anything else, also idk much abt indigenous ppl from oceania or how they identify so that’s why i left it out

ok so I reformatted some of the asks to make them easier to read (as in I changed where paragraph breaks were bc wow there r so many) but my answer is below the cut!

[EDIT] since a few ppl r asking me abt this no I don't fully agree w this anon. I don't think arabs are white. I don't think Iranians are white. I don’t know if Armenians or other ethnicities from the Caucasus region are white I think thats an ongoing discussion w in their communities, but as far as I knew I thought people saw Armenians as white. again I could be wrong but that is what I think the general consensus is. if you want to have in in-depth discussion abt this topic pls ask someone from within those communities or at the very least has researched it in-depth.

ok so just from what I know a lot of ppl from the caucus region classified themselves as white during segregation, etc in order to escape racial discrimination. Armenians as far as ik r generally classified as white? the Kardashians are Armenian and I don’t think anyone has ever said they’re poc. geographically Armenia is in west Asia so technically they’re asian but does that mean they’re poc? but if u say Armenians r white then r arabs white? Armenians do face discrimination and they have faced a genocide which is denied by the Turkish govt. but most ashkenazi jewish ppl r also white so….. idk.

as for in Europe they would definitely be seen as poc or at the very least not white. basically anywhere east of turkey (ofc excluding Russia) is seen as Big Scary Middle East full of ppl who want to invade Europe. but again in America I’m not too sure bc race relations r definitely different there.

I think its a rlly complex question w a complex answer and tbh I don’t know enough abt any of this to b able to give a cohesive opinion. what I will say is that I think this is a different discussion completely from whether mixed white poc r poc or not. this is a discussion is to whether a whole ethnicities of ppl who look ‘white’ are poc or not. its complicated bc race isn't ‘real’ as in theres not way to divide humans into 5 groups. ppl like from the caucasus region don’t fit neatly into white or asian and if u look historically the region is closely tied w Greece, Iran and the Mughals in India so again… theres no definite answer. but as far as ik they definitely have a large degree of white passing privilege but I would still say to a lesser extent than full white europeans. they’re also mostly racialised in europe or at least demonised to a certain extent. more than Eastern Europeans and less than poc but like idk lol. I hope this is an ok answer bc to b honest my brain is so fried rn

#asks #anon

1 note · View note

knightofbalance-13 · 6 years

Text

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/176304695291/more-source-post-kob-let-me-say-this

Kob, let me say this slowly, so that even your brain can understand it.

Hold on, let me get some shit together:

You (You following me?).

You’re racist towards white people as well as sexist towards men?

Yes, yes I am following you.

Nearly (Do I still have your attention?)

You nearly don’t see Miles Luna as a human being, evident by how you refuse to capitialize his name?

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/175819182973/i-feel-awful-for-constantly-ragging-on-miles-and

Caused (I hope this isn’t too fast for you).

Nah, I’ll just show that time you called a troll on your fanfic inhumane.

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/164162441506/dudeblade-can-we-please-acknowledge-the-fact

Someone.

To.

Kill.

Themselves (Do I still have your attention?).

Over.

An.

Opinion.

On.

Pyrrha’s.

Death.

Oh...

Like that time you tried suicide baiting Mage because he called you out on trying to use LGBT suicide rates as a gotcha against RT, despite Mage being Bisexual himself?

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/162639498436/yknow-what-i-take-back-what-i-said-about-kob

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/162639995661/fuck-it-magecunt14-is-a-fucking-cunt

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/162638201666/magecunt-14-is-at-it-again

Oh but you’ll say you apologized right?

Well, if you can call “I want someone to now drink bleach enough to not die but go unconscious so he stops calling out my hypocrisy” an apology.

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/163220742016/i-need-to-say-this

Oh and you only did this AFTER you were called out.

Wait, I seem to be forgetting something....

https://web.archive.org/web/20170608202120/http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/160140162256/sokumotanaka-whenever-kob-makes-a-post

Oh yeah, you suicide baited ME too!

You DID police people. You still ARE. You literally police people on how they can criticize a show. You police people on what they criticize the show for. Seriously. To anyone who doubts this, scroll down to the description of this journal entry, and see how KoB supposedly doesn’t police people’s opinions.

You mean like what you do with your fanfics by calling anyone who doesn’t like them trolls and demand that your TV Tropes page be totally positive?

Oh but Dudeblade...Surely you can do better. I mean...after all...

I have the actual comment thread:

https://comments.deviantart.com/1/619991269/4290345087?offset=0#comments

So now they can see how much of a monster I truly a-

*Sigh* Look, I never meant for you to get this stressed out. Hell, I understand where your coming from. Thinking about killing myself is such a common occurrence now I'm not even fazed by it anymore. So putting aside my feeling towards you and your conduct, I want you to listen to what i have to say: Your life matters. No matter what you think I've said, no matter what other people have said, no matter what you say, your life matters. You have friends and family who love and care about you and if you kill yourself, all it will do is wound those around you. It's painful I know but it's true. The best thing you can do is seek help above all else. Trust me, psychiatrists maybe be expensive by by divinty' sake they are miracle workers. And I know you're sick of hearing about this anime but really, look up Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann. That anime is a large part of why I get out of bed in the morning even thought I know there's a very good chance I'll choke to death on my breakfast, lunch or dinner or that my life probably doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It taught me to keep moving forward no matter what I lose or what I suffer because there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The journey is hard and long but it's worth it. I never intended on hurting you. Had I known you were this psychologically fragile or you were this invested in Pyrrha I would have said nothing. I understand where you are coming from and I'm sorry I did so much damage to you. I was wrong and you were right. Good day.

Oh...

Looks like I never intended to do that and actively worked against that.

Almost like the OP was using me to lock out anyone who disagreed with them and you’re nothing but a liar.

He is a literal monster. This is a guy who would take a look at the fucking klan, and far left activists, and say “The people who claim anyone disagreeing with them are nazis are just as bad as the KKK.” Literally all he does is fucking whine and complain that people don’t absolutely love the show that he defends. This is a guy who would probably say that nazis have a right to shout “all Jews should be killed” on the grounds of free speech.

Oh so now we’re gonna get political huh?

Okay Dudeblade...

Black Lives Matter:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xet3BnwLtek

Mind telling me how this is any different than shouting to kill all the black people WITHOUT mentioning they're black or slavery/segregation since that doesn’t excuse this shit?

Or how about Antifa...whose committed multiple crimes and ARE policing what people do and think?

Or how about this list of shit far left has pulled snce Trump’s election?

https://eclipzex77.tumblr.com/post/176309723232/amarretto-cowboy-prcximity4

Because all I see is shit that the KKK pulled in the past.

Oh and how about we take a look in your politics tag hm?

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/176309706301/liberalsarecool-republicans-trying-to-judge

Misinformation.

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/176304272891/liberalsarecool-where-is-the-tea-party-to

Tribalism

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/176230288471/liberalsarecool-republicans-have-no-values-they

Lies

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/176146297971/liberalsarecool-trump-has-failed-americas

Fear mongering

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/176091984101/liberalsarecool-the-center-is-a-construct-to

With us or against us/strawmaning

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/175881352716/ultrajchapmanstuff-mikedawwwson-why-did-they

Misrepresenting

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/175699781946/adobsonartworks-adobsonartworks-silence-is

False equivalency/Godwin’s Law

And how can we forget about how you called to not capitilze Donald Trump’s name and to call him an ‘it’ (http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/164274588366/dont-capitalize-donald-trumps-name)

Outright HATRED.

You’re not allowed to talk when it comes to politics Dudeblade.

You sicced the fndm on jswv over an opinion. How is that NOT being aggressive?

https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/5khw9y/my_thoughts_on_pyrrhas_death_rwby_and_rt_by_jswf/dbo3www/

Nope and you can see it on the journal too since I was the last guy to speak out against him. Also this posted is DELETED. Can’t even find it unless you have a link.

But surely Dudeblade, you wouldn’t do the same exact thing, except with the intention to sick people on someone...

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/174350208606/anyone-wanna-join-in-on-this-discourse-or-should

...right?

Get the fuck out of this fndm before your actions actually do get someone killed.

... Heh...

This coming from the guy who suicides people from a group he KNOWS have a higher risk for suicide than normal...

This coming from a guy who suicide baited a sucidial person...

Here’s the thing Dudeblade:

https://twitter.com/kerryshawcross/status/1021571993928265728

Kerry has most likely left twitter because of you people.

https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/7x3w4s/crwby_ama_w_miles_luna_kerry_shawcross_and_paula/du5d54f/

Miles is terrified of you people to the point he doesn’t want to write Jaune anymore.

And none of you care.

None of you CARE that your actions are destroying the lives of innocent people.

None of you, especially YOU Dudeblade, give two shits about your actions.

I quite frankly don’t care what you tell me because, to put this in a way YOU’LL understand:

You

Are

What

You

Think

Am.

#dudeblade

43 notes · View notes

meaghanrosegallagher-blog · 6 years

Text

Invasion of the 20th Century Entertainment Memory Snatchers

I have paid thousands of dollars on tragic stories inspired by industry abuse protocols established by Darryl F Zanuck.

Zanuck was 23 when he started at box. He ran the studio for 50 years.

FOX has been real bad...

The stories I have consumed and learned from were created by or shared by artists (or surviving friends/associates) who were on the receiving end of abuse.

In film. TV. Music. Plays. Books. When famous people are abused, their stories do get out. Stop acting like you have not seen this and you do not know about the dirty side of Hollywood.

One thing I know about famous people is this: fmous women & famous men rarely cannot stop talking about their personal narrative. From womb to tomb. Scandals. Coverups. Everything that happened to that.bWhy is everyone acting like there isn’t an industry based off of the inevitable tragedy of committing oneself to the romanticized Hollywood lifestyle?

I have paid thousands and thousands of dollars consuming and learning from tragic stories shared (or revealed) by all artists. My family treasures information and entertainment, so I have been awake since 1988.

Brokaw every night. Jeopardy. Cheers. Seinfeld. Simpsons. Old music. New music. My parents are old and white and grew up in Miami, Florida. During the Cuban missile crisis & segregation.

My parents talk to me and my sister about those experiences and how awful they were. What scary times they were. How confusing it was to be a child seeing adults that were a different tone forced to adhere to degrading laws that were clearly wrong. I’m sorry your parents chose not to discuss things about their lives. People have many reasons for keeping secrets. My parents never liked what they saw happening to their fellow Americans & the Seminole Nation.

We used to laugh as the family about the days of “duck and cover”. My dad remembers thinking (at 10) that hiding under a desk probably wasn’t going to help if we were bombed. My mother would run home every day and play nuclear fallout shelter with her friend Elaine.

I got a lot of Hollywood scandal information for free. At the damn library in Palm Beach County, directly across from President Blondie’s international west palm beach golf course. The one right next to the prison and airport.

I started reading books in the library about Hollywood, Broadway, Music, Art folklore when I was 8 & I got ahold of a Barbra biography that I’m sure Babs hated.

I am from the most clowned on state in the Union. It took me 12 years to get a two year associates degree from a Florida college. In English. I’m not a genius. Although, I did have a psychologist tell me during my IQ test if it weren’t for math, I’d be a genius. I chose to take that as a compliment.

Everyone seems to be very unsure about their position as a star. The last 100 years of show business information is very important for all artist to learn about.

Hollywood has a documented history of using artists for their own propaganda. Propaganda for making their studios look good or to influence politics. It can be good: WWII. It can be bad: House of un-American activities/ Hollywood 10.

I have spent a lot of money on Marilyn Monroe. Her image. Marilyn Monroe’s estate probably has more money from me than any other entity over my lifetime. I studied everything about this woman. Everything. Frankly, she would be

livid by these Instagram posts reimagining Marilyn’s narrative has one where she was a beauty accepted by other women and treasured by men.

The Marilyn Monroe I know would not want you to focus on your beauty. She spent her entire life fighting off the advances of monsters who exploited the beauty she took years to create. She was terrorized by the most monstrous of all Hollywood Mogul Darryl F Zanuck her whole career. You wonder where Harvey GOT that shit from? Look at Darryl. He was in charge of 20th Century Fox for five decades. He bought a prostitute for his 14-year-old son birthday. He had this bizarre obsession with Tyrone Powers.

Marilyn Monroe created the beauty you see. Her hard work and her listening to ridiculous notes is what created that beautiful face. Her mastery of her ability to find the perfect light and hold her body in iconic ways came from studio & personal training. She didn’t just waltz out of bed confused every day and not aware she was beautiful. Oh she knewwwww.

She knew she was beautiful. She knew the pain her face and her body went through to maintain those standards. This was a time where women were celebrated in a special way? They included measurements of actresses in every article during that time.

Marilyn underwent painful electrolysis, a nose job, a chin implant. And bleaching your hair back then was not fun baby.

I’m disgusted with the whole “Be a Marilyn and not at Kim” meme. That is confusing. No matter what anybody’s personal opinion of either women is, Kim Kardashian West has the ability and agency to do whatever the hell she wants. Marilyn Monroe never had that.

Marilyn would not want you to remember her looks. And she would really like for you to stop obsessing about her and JFK. She would ask you to re-focus that energy into researching JFK and Gene Tierny. Their romance was far more romantic & dramatic.

She would want you to remember her well documented horror stories with Darryl.

She would want you to remember when she said fuck you to Hollywood, went to New York, got to hang out with everyone she ever wanted to hang out with, formed her own independent film studio.

She would want you to remember her standing next to her husband Arthur Miller at the house of un-American activities committee. No one supported her then. They thought she was an idiot for doing so.

While many are focusing on reimagining this fantasy of Marilyn Monroe’s natural beauty, I remember I know what Marilyn would want. She would want you to lead a happy life. In whatever field you want. And that you have agency over your work.

Do you want to see the saddest place on earth? Go and visit her grave. See the hordes of people taking happy selfies next to the body of this the greatest movie star ever known to mankind. Westwood is a beautiful cemetery with many stars who clearly died with funeral plans in order.

Marilyn was simply exhausted by playing so many different roles in her life. She was the greatest actress ever. She had the ability to make anyone who was in a room with her feel like they were the most important person. When you know that skill, you know that skill.

She turned on Marilyn whenever she had to. But that was a personality that had no agency for herself. Whose survival depended on playing dumb while being very smart. No one didn��t like her. People can say she did it better or worse. No one will ever do it like it her.

Marilyn Monroe was the most beautiful American creation. Based on lies and a false narrative.

Listen to the final interview of Marilyn Monroe. You have yet to see her portrayed like that in any film. Smart and over it. And ready to share her true story. She rarely shared that side with anybody. The male commentary is a real gas. Filled with victim blaming.

Marilyn Monroe did not die alone out here for you to remember & renarrate her studio sanctioned, & talent at achieving/freezing in a state of unnatural physical beauty.

Marilyn weighed 118lbs when she died, baby. She did a whole photo shoot with Bert Stern flaunting her new “fabulous” figure. The press was not kind to her. The press fat shamed (during some like it hot) her while she was pregnant with Arthur Miller, after she had a miscarriage, during the filming of and release of Let’s Make Love. Countless times. I have a book of every magazine covers she was ever on. They were not nice to her.

Fat shaming is not a new concept to the entertainment industry. It is always been done. It’s been done on everybody. Jane Fonda has documented to her lifelong struggle with body image issues. Barbarella, baby.

Marilyn’s story is famous, but it is not original. If you ever watched E!’s Mysteries & Scandals it’s the same story. The tactics monstrous man have used go back directly to Darryl F Zanuck. He started when he was 23.

Bill Cosby has nothing on Darryl Fucking Zanuck. The fucked up sexual protocols and studio control of human lives was because of Darryl.

Darryl Fucking Zanuck destroyed so many careers and lives, follow his associations.

But that doesn’t mean that I want to destroy work Darryl F Zanuck touched. To do so is abhorrent and disrespectful to culture and history.

I want everyone to know that’s where it started. Everyone needs to stop this faux shock about how dirty my industry is. If you have seen who framed Roger rabbit, it’s all there.

Stars have power. Shine your light for truth. Acknowledge humanity and perseverance.

Blessed Cardi B,

Faye

2 notes · View notes

spooky-lilith · 6 years

Text

Down and Out in the Summer(s) of Love

Having dropped out from her prestigious university on the East Coast to escape both the draft and her controlling, overbearing parents, Pearl hitches a ride to the West Coast, hoping to forget about Rose by the end of the road.

She might not have a plan, but it’s 1966 in Southern California, so anything can happen.

Basically a 60’s human au set in Socal where the Crystal Gems are poly, always traveling, usually homeless, hedonistic, and always looking for their next high.

CW: Use of homophobic slurs, transphobic terms. Smoking. Mentions of Marijuana use. Accidental outing. Vomit. Crime: Stealing, Theft, Squatting. Skip to the bottom for an explanation.

Ships to be introduced: Amethyst x Everyone, Jasper x Everyone, Peridot x Everyone, Bismuth x Everyone.

Read on AO3 here.

-Los Angeles, Mid-Wilshire, March 12th, 1966

Lapis

It’s a scene eerily similar to how Lapis and Garnet first met. Lapis had just gotten over a bitter split-up with Peridot; the latter had long been exhausted of the former’s shit, the former proceeding to duck into the cheapest dive nearby and drink herself under the table of The 555. Segregated dingy deserted shithole by day, a disgusting party den by night frequented primarily by the dykes near 8th avenue who had enough money for a few drinks and a night out, and not much else.

Same shit, different day; The Aphrodite was another dingy shithole in the middle of Mid-Wilshire, it’s population consisting exclusively of the dykes around white enough to avoid the attention of the establishment’s armed security guards hired and hauled in from who knew where. Lapis and Garnet could get through because Lapis could talk herself through anything Garnet couldn’t just stonewall through.

Her cheap gin and tonic is tangy with metal, half their life budget blown on whatever drinks they could get their hands on. They’ve burned enough cigarettes between the two of them that she’s starting to feel sick from the nicotine. The floor is sticky, the leather is ripped and tattered beyond repair. Playing tonight is a band down on their luck, enough so that they’d play here; everyone’s got to start somewhere, but reputations are fickle things. The fact they’re playing at a dyke bar will stick with them for the rest of their terminally-ill careers.

None of it’s as interesting as the lonely girl they’ve chosen to watch over for the night, slumped at the bar table with nothing to keep her company. Save for the murky pitcher she’s ordered and been drinking up, all by her lonesome.

In her ear, Garnet whispers. “That one’s looking a bit lonely.”

Lapis would’ve sputtered, back at her, if she wasn’t feeling down from all the nicotine. “You think?”

The sole girl at the bar tries her hand at pouring another glass, only to spill the clear concoction all over the table and onto her sundress. “She’s deadass drunk. Look at her. How do you think she got through security?” Lapis asks, dizzy from all the nicotine burned between the two of them.

“Asian girls usually don’t come off as threatening to them. That, or one of them might’ve been hoping she’d drink herself in.”

Lapis takes another drag from her cigarette. “So if she doesn’t come home with us, they’ll be the ones taking her out.”

“I agree.”

“We’re doing something?”

Garnet scoffs. “How noble of you.”

“She’s too drunk for me to ask for it tonight.” Lapis admits, downing the rest of her glass. “But it’d be wrong to just… leave her there.”

“Well? Go to her then.”

Lapis looks back at Garnet, then back at the girl, then back at Garnet. Garnet knows how to play on her conscience; that the scene playing out right before them is a mirror of how they first met doesn’t escape them. Lapis has half a mind to ask Garnet to ask what she’d first said to her on that fateful night back in autumn ‘65, but she’d figure she’d end up be left sleeping on the hotel couch-sofa tonight if Garnet ever realized she’s forgotten three-fourths of their first meeting together.

“Kiss me luck?” Lapis asks instead.

Not even acknowledgement shines through Garnet’s thick aviator sunglasses. “You’re a better flirt when you’re horny.”

“Fuck you Garnet.” She smiles back at her as she stands.

“Tomorrow morning’s going to be rough on her, the poor girl. You think someone flaked on her?”

“She’s absolutely blitzed right now, no doubting that. We driving back to her place, or we taking her back to ours?”

“Depends on how far away her address is. Didn’t you have a girl to save?”

“Working on it.” She walks over to the bar, brushing off her leather jacket, slipping onto the seat right next to her without any trouble. The girl is absolutely inebriated, not even noticing that someone’s sitting right across from her, now pouring a drink of her own. A lemony rum punch, strong enough to give the girl slumped in front of her poisoning, if her thin frame is suggestive of anything in her oversized beige sundress.

“You know, you’ll be poisoning yourself if you keep this up.” Lapis downs the drink, and pushing the pitcher out of the girl’s reach.

The girl raises an eyebrow, looking up at her from her stupor. Eyes heavy, on the verge of tears. A breakup.

Agitated by her questions, the girl scowls. “Can I help you?”

At this, Lapis can’t help but smirk at her expense. “I think that’s the question I should be asking you.” Up close and personal, she realizes the girl’s taller than her, if only just. Her plain, cheap sundress shows off the most elegant legs Lapis has ever had the pleasure to set her eyes on. The girl tucks back her short-cut hair, an unpretentious strawberry-blonde. Her eyes, weary and close to tears, suddenly grow wide now that she has someone to talk to.

“Hey, if you don’t want me bothering you, that’s fine. I’ll just head on back over to my friend-”

“No! No.” Pearl grumbles, her fringe drooping over her wide eyes as her hand reaches over to grasp her arm. “Stay. Please. I’m scared.”

At the sight of this, Lapis nearly melts. “Of me?”

“Of… everything, really. I’m… I’m a fool really.”

A smooth, serene voice fills the room; the shoddy audition rejects dash off-stage to presumably their next mediocre performance, and with them, go the chaotic acoustics of their bar. The new singer announces they’ve taken the stage; it’s all in the back of her mind really, but she’s glad she can hear herself think again.

-Blue Moon

The girl’s eyes glimpse through and their eyes meet; they lock for an abnormally long amount of time. “I’m not from around here. I’m, I’m lost and I don’t know what I’m doing, I ran away from home and-”

Her words fumble and crash into a blithering incoherence but underneath it all, Lapis catches a few words. Money. Spent. Parents. Runaway. Rose. Scared.

Lapis looks back at Garnet, begging her for assistance; Garnet throws her back a thumbs up and Lapis wishes she could just chuck this damn pitcher of shitty lemon-rum back at her.

“You’re not from around here?” Lapis asks, trying.

“N-no.” The girl says, long fingers covering her mouth. The shoddy lighting doesn’t mask her luminescent blush, and it sets Lapis off wondering how new to everything she just is.

“Maryland, actually.” The girl slurs. “Small town. Had to escape it all. Parents. The fact that I kept seeing her wherever I went-”

At this, Lapis leans in, arms curling around the girl’s frail body to wrap her in as warm as a hug as she can manage. “I understand.”

A lie that wasn’t a lie. In Lapis’s case, it was better to describe what she just said as an emotion, a jumble of sorts. But she isn’t the one half-way across the country, drunkenly embracing a biker dyke she barely even knows so she’ll have to put away those feelings for now.

“T-thank you.” The girl slips her fingers around the back of Lapis’s neck, igniting a desire she hadn’t felt since-

Like her building nausea, she shoves it all, her feelings, her emotions back down inside. Their embrace breaks; Lapis pushing the girl back to where she started, trying to figure out where she was now.

Again, she puts away her thoughts when the girl reaches for another drink, discovering that she’s spilt most of the contents on the table, and on her lap. Pouts, so very unfitting of the stature this girl would radiate if she wasn’t so absolutely gassed right now, when she realizes her pitcher’s been taken away from her. But she doesn’t complain.

“You… you need help.” Lapis flusters out. “Maybe we can get you a taxi and send you to a hotel or maybe we go with you to make sure-”

“Why’d you take it away?” Pearl slurs, reaching for the pitcher, prompting Lapis to pour whatever’s left in a glass for herself.

“Why’d you go all the way out here?” Lapis asks, trying to redirect the girl’s attention away from her lost alcohol. “We’re in southern Cali. Other side of the country. Empire City wasn’t exciting enough for you?”

The girl frowns at her as if to mock her for the teasing question, and Lapis just knows she has to have her. “I needed to be far away. Far, far away. And it seemed nice here. Beaches. Sun. Surfing. My parents... used to live, here actually.”

“Really?”

Without warning, the girl spills onto the floor under their stools, upchucking what must be at least a fourth of her pitcher. Grimacing and yanking her feet away, Lapis squeaks out something about her prized jump boots, about how the leather’s a bitch to maintain, and about how she can’t afford cleaners or anything like that.

“Nice.” Garnet earns herself another glare from Lapis, joining their impromptu party.

“My fucking boots! You realize how much of a bitch these were to get my hands on!?”

“Vent.” Garnet says, deadpan as always, as she carefully removes the girl’s body from her own slosh.

“They’re fucking jump boots. Straight from the inventory we raided a couple months back! Military brats get all pissy about them if you’re not in the fucking air force or whatever.” Lapis glances at the mess to see how bad it is, considering it’s mostly regurgitated booze and stomach acids, the damage shouldn't be awful. “Forget it. Is she okay?”

“She’ll be feeling like absolute shit tomorrow, but she’s sleeping like a bird right now.” Without missing a beat, Garnet’s hand slips into Pearl’s purse, quickly fishing out her wallet to procure an ID of any sort.

“Wouldn’t bother with the address. She lives in Maryland, so unless you’re into road trips-”

“Just confirming her information. Name, age, and address?”

“Didn’t get it, probably too young for any joint, and all the way out in fucking Maryland.” Lapis grunts, wiping off her boots with the bar’s cloth napkin.

Garnet adjusts her sunglasses, focusing in on the girl’s identification. In all other cases, they’d be done by now and take her to wherever she is, or wherever they’ve holed up for the night. That Garnet takes off her sunglasses, perpetually fused to her head whenever they’re out together, means something’s off. “Pearl. Name’s Pearl.”

“Anything wrong?” Lapis josses the napkin back into place, making sure to throw a few dimesin the pitcher before they leave.

Garnet, sunglasses back in place, holds the girl’s ID up, asking her to look.

The dim lighting of The Aphrodite makes it hard to see, but she finds what Garnet’s pointing her to instantly; it sticks out a sore thumb asides from the night unrecognizable photo, and the etched out name section. “Well.” Lapis one-notes.

“Lapis.”

“Fuzz’ll be all over her for crossdressing once they’ve thrown her in the jailhouse for something stupid.” Lapis admits, no longer interested in looking over the identification.

Garnet takes Lapis’s glass, downing half of it before leaving the rest for her. “She have a hotel we can drive to?”

“I think she said she burned all her money on the pitcher and the ride here actually.” Lapis holds out their keys, and shrugs disaffectedly.

“So we’ll be taking her in then?” Garnet gently lifts Pearl from her stupor, carrying her bridal style.

Lapis takes one end of Pearl’s body, helping Garnet carry her out of the bar whilst garnering only a strange look or two from the bar’s patrons. And two glares of disappointment from the white-shirted security. “Of course.” Lapis grumbles above the fading music. “Let her sleep tonight off, and throw up tomorrow morning. We should... probably forget we saw it.”

That the streets of downtown LA hadn’t emptied by two in the morning was a testament to the city’s livability. Greeted with that cool summer night chill native to Southern California, the two stumble their way out of The Aphrodite.

No raid tonight, meaning they could just dump her in the back seating of their miracle of a vehicle. The newest Shelby Model 66, almost criminal given they don’t have the money to cough up for the hotel keep tomorrow morning. In fact, it wasn’t even theirs; being a gift Lapis kept with her given by one of her rich ex’s during their ill-fated relationship.

“Your thoughts?” Garnet asks, Lapis slumping against the window view, watching the city fly by, radio on full blast.

You’re Going to Lose That Girl -The Beatles

“On her?” Lapis darts her gaze over to her, still freshly knocked out.

“Yeah. I think she’s plenty attractive.” Garnet continues, eyes on the road. She could never figure out how Garnet could still see through those damn sunglasses at night.

Lapis’s eyes dart back to the passing cityscape, the lights and glows of the neon city streets fading as they left the main city. “She’s such a baby dyke.”

-Los Angeles County, Hawaiian Gardens, February 27th, 1966

Garnet makes sure to drive extra slow for their passenger in the back. They don’t want to hurt her more any more than her drinking’s caused her, and they really don’t want to mess up the car interior any more than what a year of hard drinking and smoking’s done to it.

After around a half-hour of pissing off drivers clocking 90 on The 605, they finally reach their destination: a motel Lapis somehow convinced the management to give them three more days to cough up their money. Making sure to park right outside their room window, they unceremoniously dump Pearl on the room’s sleeper sofa once they’re back in their room, making sure to wrap her in whatever blankets the room has on hand: two. Three glasses of tap water are set out for her, left on the bedside stand. Surrounding her front and back, two garbage bins, when she inevitably needs to hurl.

“God damn it.” Lapis groans, throwing off her leather jacket and cleaning herself on the dresser. “I thought we were going to nail someone new tonight.”

“We did.” Garnet says, stripping off her blazer. “In a different usage of the word, yes.”

Lapis groans, earning a laugh on Garnet’s end. Soft fingers slip through, combing her mop of blue hair, faded into a sky blue. She’d need to bleach the roots and go ‘shopping’ for the hair supplies. Dying hair was expensive enough to actually bother spending on, as wishy-washy the two of them were between being ‘ethical,’ and lifting everything they could carry in their pockets from the nearest gas station.

“We got any green left to smoke?” Lapis asks, as a soft thud lands on the bed.

“We should probably sleep now. Wake up before she does.”

“What if we don’t? What is she gonna do, hurl all over the hallway trying to leave?”

“Mmm. I was thinking you’d be a bit more enthusiastic to jump into bed with me.”

It takes a few seconds to many for it to connect. When she does eventually look over, she’s greeted by the sight of Garnet stretching, lying on their queen size bed. Waiting for her.

The distance between them halves, is rendered nil. They laugh as Lapis struggles with her tattered jeans, wound a bit too tight for her. They lay into each other, teasing whispers, sharing pleasantries. Lapis’s arms slip her arms around Garnet’s waist, their fingers intertwining.

“I figured you’d want.”

“Am I really that predictable?”

“It doesn’t take a mind reader to read you, Lapis Lazuli.”

“This is fine though, isn’t it?” Lapis whispers. Their lips meet in a clash of lust and affection that sends them falling apart in the other’s arms. It’s a dance the two of them are familiar with, that it’s part muscle memory doesn’t take anything away. They’re there to catch each other, they’re happy to still be dancing this far long on their little stage.

“It’s your move.”

Lapis doesn’t say anything back, opting to slip her fingers underneath the the dress shirt Garnet was wearing, pulling it over her head, and off her body.

Pearl

When Pearl finally comes to, her first thought back to sober reality is a wish that she hadn’t. Her skull is pulsing, splitting as if someone rearranged all the valves in her body to pump everything straight to the brain. Her throat is sore, and her mouth is so, very dry. In an attempt to reclaim control over her senses, she tries to toss her body over, only to knock her back onto some cold tin surface.

Her body shivers, shakes uncontrollably with her teeth clattering against each other with enough force to knock the cavities out of her molars flat outright. Covering her shivering body is strangely nostalgic. Her lips are dry yet pasty, covered in some sheen that makes her just want to jump out of wherever she is and-

Where is she? What was she doing-

An excruciatingly long bus ride, a check-in to an extraordinarily sub-par motel, an absolutely filthy bar, a pitcher of the most disgusting liquid she’s ever had the pleasure of letting slide past her throat, and a mop of blue hair-

“Rise and shine babe.” The blanket protecting her eyes from the blinding light out is gently lifted from her, still enough to make her panic. Whether from confusion or outright pain, she opens her mouth. A scream tries to escape her throat, but instead she just curls her body up, desperately clawing under the blanket for shade and protection. Escaping her lips instead is a wispy gasp. Without thinking, she flips over the opposite direction, and hurtles herself off of the comforts of her dingy bed, and onto another tin object, tipping it over. As if to mock her, a generous amount of water is dumped onto her front, soaking her through.

This time, Pearl manages to scream. Loud.

“Jesus, you okay!?” Two hands peek through her covers, propping her up. The sopping wet blanket over her eyes is cruelly removed from her as she’s carefully set against the couch. Napkins wipe at her eyes so she can see; greeting her is a familiar face, and her messy blue hair.

“W-where am I? What am I doing here!?” Pearl blithers erratically, wincing from the sound of her voice which she realizes now is too damn loud. The room is too damn loud, everything is too damn loud and now she wants to cry from it all. “D-did I-”

“You drank yourself shit-faced last night so we decided to take you home with us.” Noticing Pearl’s state of mind, she panics. “H-Hey, don’t worry. We didn’t do anything to you. Promise.”

A dumbfounded stare scans the blue-haired girl’s face, trying to recollect, pick up the pieces from last night, if there are any. “I’m Lapis.” Her eyes dart away, unwilling to look Pearl in the eye. “You… threw up all over my boots last night.”

“Oh god…” Pearl squeaks, sinking in her blanket cocoon and bringing her knees up to her arms.

It all dissolves into an emotional mess, Pearl blithering out more nothings, making Lapis both confused and flustered. “Hey, don’t-” Lapis pithers her words, instead placing her hands on Pearl’s shoulders as a comforting measure. Like last night. “I’ll... go get some towels okay?” She says awkwardly, disappearing off to the washroom.

Pearl’s eyes instinctively dart around her surroundings, trying to figure out exactly where she is and see if their story checks out. With so little to reference though, she’ll have to take the girl’s word for it that this is a hotel room and-

“Garnet, she’s up!” The girl screams from the washroom, making Pearl jump. “I swear…”

Stumbling back in from the washroom, Lapis sits down in front of her, distance minimal. “I’m gonna wipe you off while you just relax. You’re in a hangover, and it’s not gonna go away soon.” The girl flusters, her gaze darting away from Pearl’s, with some undecipherable emotion. “If… you wanna do it yourself, or you don’t wanna be wiped down, just… say something.”

Pearl nods, warily, and still shaking. “I’m… I’m fine. Go ahead.”

Carefully, the girl begins kneading the towel over where Pearl’s soaked through, which feels nice on her end. They share eye contact for a brief moment before Lapis’s eyes dart away, as if she had suddenly remembered how awkward all of this is supposed to be.

Spots and memories from last night are all she can remember, and what she does remember consists of her awkwardly wandering in, being convinced to purchase that drastically overcharged pitcher of rum, and deciding to down it all in one go, because sunk costs. What she does remember of the blue-haired girl confuses her, makes her want to learn more about her…

“H-hey, you’re crying.” Lapis panics, dabbing at Pearl’s tears. “You alright?”

“I-I,” she tries to breathe, finding her nostrils to be clogged with phlegm and junk, “you’re just being so nice to me.”

The girl’s cheeks flush red, their eyes meeting again. For a brief moment, Pearl’s nausea seems to be infectious, Lapis shoving the towels in her face and promptly standing up. “This is wrong.” The girl says, disappearing out of the living room. “Garnet, this is so much!”

Now left to her own thoughts and ruminations, Pearl instinctively comes to the conclusion that she’s went and ruined everything, and has to leave the city, if not the state. Her eyes dart around the room with both a mindless curiosity and an urgency to gather her things and get out of here. Stained wallpapers, a spartan assortment of amenities, and the faint smell caught in her sheets gives some credence to the girl’s claim she’s in some run-down motel in the middle of nowhere.

Though surprisingly, the room does come with a beat-up radio, playing out the tune to some surf rock song she’s never heard before, but finds strangely comforting in this situation.

Surfer Girl- The Beach Boys

Standing next to what was her sorry excuse for a bed, a makeshift nightstand, appropriated from some trash bin that’s carried god knows what. Laid out for her, and thankfully untouched by her water spill, her wallet and purse.

Her wallet and purse were laid out for her.

Her wallet was laid out for her.

Nausea. She realizes why those trash cans were set out for her, grabbing the nearest one and throwing another portion of last night’s drink down the drain. When she’s done sputtering out whatever stomach acid’s still left on her teeth, she rinses with whatever water’s still left for her, spitting in the bin.

“Sorry about that.” Demanding her attention, the girl apparently named Garnet, another one of the bar’s patrons she’d caught a glimpse of from the privacy of her booth, yet never had the courage to approach. Partially because she found herself stunned by Garnet’s everything, and partially because she’d seen a black person precisely twice in her life beforehand. “Lapis is a bit caught up on you.”

Oh god. She just gave Garnet a disgusting show-

Staring straight into the enigma that was Garnet’s sunglasses, Pearl, flustering and trying to come up with a coherent jumble of words that wouldn’t make her look like an idiot right in front of her.

“H-hi, I’m Pearl.” She grins, stupidly.

A smirk from Garnet and she maybe hasn’t ruined everything yet with this one. “We knew.”

She doesn’t remember introducing herself last night.

At this, Pearl’s heart crumples, and she decides that if she can’t bring herself to run away, she’ll just curl up into a ball until it’s all over. “I, I see. Well, I suppose I’ve made myself too much of a burden here, which means-”

“Pearl.”

Garnet’s voice grabs her attention; their eyes meet, Garnet’s sunglasses off. “We didn't mean to see it on your driver’s. We just wanted to see if you had an address, and-

“Whatever the fed says about you on that shitty card doesn’t matter.” The Lapis jumps in, watching them from the hallway leading into what must be the master bedroom.

Pearl’s eyes dart over to where Lapis; she’s almost hiding from her, much like Pearl wants to, and as to why Pearl has someone like her scared confuses her.

“We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable and intrude on your privacy.” Garnet continues, kneeling down. “We’re sorry, and if you’d like to leave right now, we wouldn’t stop you. But we…” Garnet’s eyes briefly dart over to the blue-haired girl’s eyes, “we’d like to ask you something. A proposition, really.”

Pearl’s eyes briefly dart over to where her wallet and purse are, and it briefly crosses her mind to take the two and dash out of there, leaving it all behind as some awkward experience she could laugh off once she’d eked out something resembling a stable life for herself.

But like everything else in Pearl’s life, it wasn’t so simple. She had exactly in her wallet seven twenty-five; having blown most of her money on the booze, an unused motel room half-way across the city, and the excruciatingly painful bus ride here from Maryland. It was a moment decision really, one day she was living out her miserable life in the all-male Ocean University dorms, making sure to visit her parents on the weekends. Three years into her engineering degree, she’d gotten her notice in the mail; once university was done and over with, she’d be drafted. A final letter to Rose, who was off with her loser musician off in upstate New York, and she declared ‘fuck it,’ and bought herself a bus ticket, that nice sundress that’d caught her eye during last year’s Christmas shopping, and left for her birthplace, in sunny Southern California.

Twenty years of living for her family, hoping they’d one day see her the way she wanted them to see her, all thrown down the drain by her naivety. Ten years of pining after Rose, always standing by her side, her closest confidant from K-12, all tossed aside like she was nothing for some deadbeat drummer boy all the way from Beach City.

And now she was here, Southern California. Surfing, sunshine, and whatever mythos the state could manufacture to make their image more alluring just so she might delude herself with the fantasy that she really would escape it all. And now she was here, stuck inside the hotel room of two strangers she’d gotten mixed up with after a night gone wrong.

They’d… they’d been so nice to her.

And she had nowhere else to go.

She’s too lost in her beachside fantasy to consider otherwise.

She had nothing else to lose.

“I’m... listening.”

Ticket to Ride -The Beatles

“Just remember, you don’t have to accept. And you can back out at any time. That’s how we work.” Garnet affirms, eyes shining through her dark aviator sunglasses as if to get Pearl to confirm that yes, she does understand.

“I understand.” Pearl affirms, pressing the towel against her soaked clothes. That she’s still sopping wet is irritating and sends her into a shivering fit, prompting the blue-haired girl to toss out two more towels from the bathroom, each of varying cleanliness, but at the very least, dry. She’s grateful nonetheless.

“We’d like you to come along with us. We’ve been driving up and down Socal for the past few months or so, getting by. Taking whatever we need to live, spending whatever money we run into on girls and booze. We’d get it, if you think that sounds rough, or if you wouldn’t want to live with a couple total strangers you just met. But the thing is,”

“I think you’re really cute.” The blue-haired girl jumps in, still from the safety of her hallway. “Garnet and I’ve been together for a couple months now, and we’ve been talking about finding another. Maybe two, maybe more.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one.” Garnet finishes.

Lapis fishes from her pocket a small carton of Lucky Stars, unfiltered and fresh. Producing a lighter from her skirt pockets, she takes a drag for herself, before walking over to hand the tobacco over to Pearl.

“Symbolic.” Garnet deadpans.

“Your fucking degree is rubbing off on me.” Lapis says back, to which Garnet shrugs.

Unlike last night with her and alcohol, this isn’t a new experience. Pearl’s smoked with Rose before, smoking endemic in Beach City High. Her fingers nearly fumble the fragile tobacco but she manages to bring it to her lips and take her drag.

She coughs. And hacks, her world is sent spinning. She’s still in a hangover after all, and her arms fumble for the nearest trash bin, her moment of relative peace shattered when the sends back up another portion last night’s drinks.

“Shit, you need water. And coffee, but I’d rather not deal with the assholes up at the front desk…”

“I’ll get you another glass.” Garnet affirms her, heading to the washroom. “Anything else you need?”

Against all the ringing and vibrations in her fragile skull, Pearl whimpers out her answer. “A cold shower… sounds about right.”

Garnet

Whether Pearl accepts their offer or not, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ll be charged with the bill for the extra week they’ve roomed the second they hit the front desk, and they’re just a couple everything short.

“We’re dipping?” Lapis asks, slothing around on the sofa-bed, arms curled to her body now that Pearl’s locked away behind her shower.

The desk drawers are knocked open, inside some leftovers from the previous occupants, unnoticed by housekeeping; some goldish medallion, several unsmoked cigars, and a handful of dimes and nickels. “Unless you can get us another extension, that’s the plan. Grab anything not bolted down that you’ll be able to toss in the trunk.”

At the base of the bed, Lapis stretches with lethargy. “Are we hitting the pawn shop first, or are we gonna look for one once we’re in SD?”

“That one we found off of Garden Grove offered good prices.”

“Yeah, but shopkeep was an ass.”

Garnet gets to work pilfering sheets, mugs, lamps, whatever she can find and stuffing them down her suitcase for good measure. That Lapis hasn’t started helping her says everything Garnet needs to know about her current psyche.

“You’re nervous.”

Garnet isn’t in the mood to help Lapis sort out her own emotions; that Lapis hasn’t been able to make up her damn mind about their situation reminds her that she’s still hurt, enough to split into two.

Lapis scoffs unconvincingly. “What have I got to be nervous about?”

“She reminds you of Peridot. And-”

Lapis’s eyes widen, casting a glare over at her. “Don’t you dare bring them up-”

“I will bring them up when it is appropriate, Lapis Lazuli.” Garnet crosses her arms, telling Lapis to back down.

Lapis wants to get better. Wants to feel better, wants to be better, without putting in any of the work and change that comes with it. And most of all, she wants someone to just feel sorry about everything she’d dug herself into, and as much as Garnet wants to understand, that Lapis won’t do the same for her or them hurts.

“S-sorry.” Lapis gets out, gaze suspiciously avoidant.

“I know.”

The pitter-patter of waterdrops from Pearl’s shower dominates the acoustics of their room. Lapis’s nervousness is infectious, as very un-Garnet-like it was for her to be nervous.

Or rather, to admit it.

“Let’s not fight in front of her.” Lapis mutters.

“Would it be right for us? Taking her in?” Garnet briskly asks, securing the locks on her suitcase. As much as she’d like to state otherwise, she and Lapis are messes; Lapis especially, but hell if she’ll ever admit it.

“You heard her. She’s got nowhere to go.” Lapis responds, avoiding the damn question. “What are we supposed to do, dump her out on the streets like everyone else?”

The squeaking of a shower lever cutting off the showerhead signals to the two of them time’s up; either they put away their petty squabbles, or they risk alienating the poor girl even more than they already have.

“Shower’s mine.” Lapis jumps to the claim first, Garnet being too distracted by her own thoughts to contest. “Fine with me.” Garnet grumbles, frustrated with the edges of her friend, lover.

“And… tell Pearl about them for me. If she’s okay with it.”

“Can do.”

The bathroom lock clicks open, steam pouring through the widening crack in the door. Pearl stumbles through the thick mist, wearing the clothes set out for her by Lapis; an oversized flannel, a plain beige tee, with some tight jeans, mildly tattered at the edges. More surprising than Lapis’s body size matching with hers, is how much portions of Lapis’s usual wardrobe fits Pearl.

Before Lapis can claim the shower for herself, Garnet makes sure to toss three pieces from Lapis’s wardrobe over; a cut up tank top, a denim jacket, and black leggings, all of which bounce off of Lapis’s thick head as she disappears into the shower. She’ll have to make sure Lapis doesn’t traumatize their guest once she’s finished.

“How’re you feeling?” Garnet asks, having nabbed everything she could. “Come to a decision yet?”

Pearl tepidly nods, setting her lithe body down on the now stripped-down sofa-bed. “I’d like to come with you. Learn more about living here. Functioning as an… independent adult, it’s… I suppose with company it would be so much less overwhelming.”

“That’s a reasonable answer. Though I need you to understand. Don’t feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“But I want to!” Pearl’s outburst is unexpected for the both of them, Pearl’s fingers instinctively covering her mouth. “It used to be that life was so terribly simple.” Pearl continues calmer. “I would know how, and when and where everything would happen, just like my parents had told me; education, marriage, children! Now… I suppose some of that sense of childish wonder is back in me, though I could do without the overwhelming sense of uncertainty and fear. Am I… making sense?”

From where she sat, Pearl looked so small, so fragile.

Nervous fingers crawl over Pearl’s vision, in shame. “Oh, I’m terrible really, I may have shared too much information, and rambled on on unimportant matters, I-”

“Pearl.”

Pearl’s eyes dart up, desperately looking for any sign of reassurance.

“You’re fine. And never tell yourself your story is unimportant. Because it is. Especially if you’re who we hope you are.”

Pearl flusters, overcompensating for her inexperience with… everything, by nodding with enough vigor to snap her skull straight off.

“And you do recognize that if we like you, it’d be a commitment to the both of us. Not just Lapis.”

“Yes. I know what polyamory is, an… old friend taught me.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t been expecting that answer, having expected Pearl’s silence on her and Lapis’s relationship being an indication of confusion, rather than understanding.

“It’s just… I wouldn’t be intruding on the two of you, would I?”

“Lapis is completely smitten with you. And we’ve only just met, we have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

That Pearl doesn’t pick up any of the subtext beneath her words would be enough to make Garnet laugh at Pearl’s expense, if not for her large eyes softening. “I’m intruding on you, aren’t I? I-”

“You’re plenty attractive.” Garnet reassures her, Pearl’s flushing red from the compliment. “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s Lapis.”

Pearl’s eyes naturally widen with worry. “What about her?”

“Who she’s been with before.” Garnet admits, taking the spot right next to Pearl. “She’s hurt her girlfriends before.” Garnet’s words are laced with a worry for the delicate girl beside her, as much as strong as their bond was.

“You?” Pearl asks, eyes wide with worry.

Garnet scoffs. “I watch over her. She’s the one who told me all about it, and we’ve been working on it ever since we decided to become an item. But change takes work, and Lapis isn’t the dedicated sort.”

Pearl’s eyes fall, though not in a fear, but in a sort of contemplation. Analytic, as if considering her options. Garnet isn’t sure which would have been more appropriate for her. “How did you and Lapis meet?” Pearl asks, in a near whisper.

It was a question she never had the pleasure of answering, but the answer she could remember clear; all that was left was to organize her thoughts on the matter.

A peaceable breath is sucked in before she starts. “It was several months after her last relationship had ended. I was short on money, but even more importantly, I had a landlord who kept raising the rent on me whenever he wanted. Lapis on the other hand, was homeless. Eventually I knew I was going to be out of a home by the end of the month, so I decided to go for a drink. The 555 was the closest lesbian bar nearby, and I ended up finding Lapis underneath my table. Just as drunk as you were.”

“Took her home like you. Ended up letting her sleep on my couch for a couple of days, and we started sleeping together. By the end of the month, we decided to we wanted to travel together, so we decided to dip out of LA, and straight up to Santa Barbara, where Lapis’s car was impounded. Rest is history.”

Lapis’s affinity with water leads to her taking excruciatingly long showers, (that she’s confessed to spending most of the time inside having fun with the shower head,) the current of which was now ending, announced by the cutoff of water.

Once Garnet’s finished with hers, they’ll be dipping out before hotel management comes up to personally knock at their doors.

“Anyways.” Garnet shifts gears. “If you’re still with us, you’ll need to be caught up to snuff. Once I’m done showering, we’ll be driving down south, to San Diego. There’s a rich boy with a summer home down there who Lapis faked being in love with for a month or two before the whole liking girls thing clicked for her. She’s got a spare key, and he never visits this time of year so we should be fine.”

“We’ll be squatting!?” Pearl sputters incredulously. Garnet throws her hands up in innocence.

“Hey, rich people problems that he has the money to throw at. It isn’t even his actual home, if it makes you feel better.”

“What if he has security? What if he checks on his property early-”

“Then we’ll dip out like we’re going to do now.”

“Excuse me!?” Pearl demands.

“Uh, Pearl?” Lapis’s voice announces the end of her shower.

Pearl jolts, turning around to meet Lapis, body half-obscured by the bathroom door.

“You threw up all over the soap dude. Seriously?”

-San Diego North County, The 5, March 12th, 1966

Chapel of Love -The Dixie Cups

They had to leave the torn-up leather chair behind. Nothing to strap it onto the car, and contrary to Lapis’s protests, it didn’t fit in the backseat of their Shelby. In the end, they jossed the damn furniture into the hotel dumpster, before dipping as fast as they could before management noticed Lapis’s face.

Garnet and Pearl ride the Shelby, Lapis riding right beside them in her 1964 Harley Davidson Sportster. In a stunning revelation for her when Garnet first learned, it was actually legitimately owned, bought up with Lapis’s and her mother’s savings. Back when she was still caught up with the Hell’s Angels, having long given up all efforts at living a legitimate life, before she’d met Garnet.

It’s an awkward ride between her and Pearl. Besides the radio, only the sound of Pearl’s breakfast (Raisin-Bran, straight from the box, without milk,) fills in the distance between the two of them, now they don’t have anything to talk about.

It’s not like they could converse like normal people; parents, childhood, and life before California being off-limits. Not at Pearl’s discretion, but at Garnet’s, and her respect for whatever similarities they have between each other.

“Oh, that’s so pretty.” Pearl sleepily mumbles.

San Onofre was an unspoilt stretch of land, rugged and untouched by humans, save for The 5 carving right through it, and the hundreds of seabathers playing in the sun-kissed sands, painted an unpretentious honey to match the rest of the earth around.

Windswept bluffs carve the countryside around them. Breaking the sands, tidal wetlands carved out by the eternal California surf that’s always inviting, always calling.

Well, Southern California surf. Anything north, and most of those shores were quite nasty.

“Most of Southern California is. Unfortunately, it has some of the worst people in the entire world.” Garnet adds, without missing a beat.

Pearl’s already lulled herself to sleep, resting a delicate cheek against the car window.

“Stick with us, and you’ll love living here.”

You Really Got Me -The Kinks. Recorded July 1964, Released August 4th, 1964 in the UK.

why did i write this i hate socal

Do comment and kudos if you want to tell me what you thought of it, if i should keep writing more, or if i should remove my fic bc it’s problematic or it sucks

I can’t promise y’all much, but i do promise this fic won’t end in a stupid love triangle ending with pearl and lapis breaking off leaving garnet or some bs.

CW Explanations.

The word ‘dyke’ is used by Lapis a lot, bc she swears like a sailor, and we’re about a few decades before political correctness.

Lapis does mention something that can be taken as transphobia. “...Fuzz’ll be all over her for crossdressing…” Lapis is observing that if Pearl is ever arrested for something petty like theft or something minor, then her identification will lead to her petty crime being marked up to crossdressing.

Pearl is accidentally outed as a trans woman when Garnet checks her wallet for any ID of any sort.

Pearl vomits multiple times during the morning after due to mild alcohol poisoning.

#steven universe fanfiction #the 60s #human au #polyamory #pearlapis #pearlnet #lapnet #everyone x everyone #eventually #why did i write this

12 notes · View notes