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txttletale · 16 days

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i am confused by some self described maoists opposing gun regulations and saying the proletariat must be armed, and i remember you once said most of this comes from misinterpreting one thing marx said about an already-armed proletariat, could you expand on that?

because my thinking is, 1) people are materially, demonstratively safer in places with less guns and less excuses for cops to shoot them and 2) ... it's not like places like the US seem any closer to a revolution unless I'm missing something, right? All of this to me sounds exactly like when some extremely online "communists" oppose a labour reform that will make material improvements for the working class because they perceive worse conditions as more conductive to a revolution, which is something that, if nothing else, is horrible optics for any communist to say since it sounds like they _want_ things to get worse, which rightfully would make any working person want to punch them

SRA and similar types drastically take the quote “Under no pretext should arms and ammunition be surrendered; any attempt to disarm the workers must be frustrated, by force if necessary” out of context in a very silly way, interpreting it as 'basically the 2nd amendment', as marx just saying that the working class should all own their own gun as individuals--when in fact marx said this in a very specific context, discussing an organized working class in the midst of a popular democratic revolution against feudalism (such as the february revolution in russia or the xinhai revolution in china) in which the proletariat and bourgeoisie were united against aristocratic and royalist elements, and the need of organized proletarian militias to maintain their weapons even after the success of such a revolution to guard against betrayal by the bourgeoisie of the sort marx wrote of extensively in the case of the french revolutions. here's the quote in its full context:

During and after the struggle the workers must at every opportunity put forward their own demands against those of the bourgeois democrats. They must demand guarantees for the workers as soon as the democratic bourgeoisie sets about taking over the government. They must achieve these guarantees by force if necessary, and generally make sure that the new rulers commit themselves to all possible concessions and promises – the surest means of compromising them. They must check in every way and as far as is possible the victory euphoria and enthusiasm for the new situation which follow every successful street battle, with a cool and cold-blooded analysis of the situation and with undisguised mistrust of the new government. Alongside the new official governments they must simultaneously establish their own revolutionary workers’ governments, either in the form of local executive committees and councils or through workers’ clubs or committees, so that the bourgeois-democratic governments not only immediately lost the support of the workers but find themselves from the very beginning supervised and threatened by authorities behind which stand the whole mass of the workers. In a word, from the very moment of victory the workers’ suspicion must be directed no longer against the defeated reactionary party but against their former ally, against the party which intends to exploit the common victory for itself. To be able to forcefully and threateningly to oppose this party, whose betrayal of the workers will begin with the very first hour of victory, the workers must be armed and organized. The whole proletariat must be armed at once with muskets, rifles, cannon and ammunition, and the revival of the old-style citizens’ militia, directed against the workers, must be opposed. Where the formation of this militia cannot be prevented, the workers must try to organize themselves independently as a proletarian guard, with elected leaders and with their own elected general staff; they must try to place themselves not under the orders of the state authority but of the revolutionary local councils set up by the workers. Where the workers are employed by the state, they must arm and organize themselves into special corps with elected leaders, or as a part of the proletarian guard. Under no pretext should arms and ammunition be surrendered; any attempt to disarm the workers must be frustrated, by force if necessary.

—Karl Marx, Address of the Central Committee to the Communist League (emphasis mine)

it's a total and deeply unserious misinterpretation of what marx actually said, and imo it is indicative less of anything specific to maoism but of the usamerican individualist mindset, who cannot conceive of 'the proletariat' as conceiving of anything other than scattered individuals making personal purchasing and lifestyle decisions. to paraphrase the least annoying mcelroy brother, if you buy a glock you're not arming the proletariat, you're arming the justin. you and your SRA buddies owning guns is not an 'armed proletariat', it's an 'armed just some guys'.

& of course these people will make much hay about the black panthers' use of firearms while once again completely failing to understand what the black panthers actually were (an organization founded on marxist principles) and what they used those guns for (to patrol, in groups, around their neighbourhoods to prevent police from acting with impunity). not for personal 'self defence' but for organized, community self-defense. which kind of gets to the heart of it, a gun is not actually useful for 'self-defense', owning a gun doesn't make you safer, but because of this individualism the specter of the random street hate crime which you can epically john wick your way out of plays an oversized role in the political imagination of these people who, again, cannot envision what self-defense looks like on a community or class basis.

another argument that will be made is that "well, personal gun ownership isn't revolutionary action now, but if there's a revolution how do you expect the revolutionary party to become armed if not through preexisting individual gun ownership?" needless to say i think this is very silly. no revolutionary or guerilla movement in history has ever relied upon the personal gun ownership of its members, because that's a fucking stupid way to operate a serious fighting force.

now that doesn't mean i actually think that gun control legislation in the usa is prima facie a good idea -- i think if the last few years have hammered any point home it's that the cops don't need excuses to shoot people, and that any theoretical program of firearm confiscation would be accompanied by disproportional leniency for right-wing white gun owners and disproportional violence and brutality against latino and black gun owners. i don't think guns are ontologically evil, i think if you want to own a gun that's whatever--but i do think that SRA types are for the most part wilfully deluding themselves that their particular type of consumerism and hobbyism is serious revolutionary activism in much the same way that people who make a big deal out of buying from their local small business queer owned coffee shop are.

#ask

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fallynleaf · 19 days

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Help out a Palestinian in the West Bank by taking Arabic classes!

For the past few months, I've been taking online Palestinian Arabic classes from a teacher in the West Bank who lost his last teaching job due to the war.

With Israel escalating its violence in the West Bank, things have gotten increasingly tough for him, so I offered to help promote his classes with the tiny bit of social media reach that I have.

He sent me this to share:

"Marhaba all! My name is Ahmed. I live in Nablus, Palestine, and I’m an Arabic teacher with almost a decade of experience. If you’re looking to learn Levantine Arabic, particularly the Palestinian dialect, I’d be happy to teach you! Here are some details about my classes:

I can teach beginners to advanced speakers. Everyone is welcome

Rate: $25/hr. for private classes, $20/person for group classes

I speak fluent English & French, so I can help explain everything in your native language

Flexibility over Zoom, Google Meet, etc. for classes and open availability for any time of day that works with you

I teach Palestinian/Levantine Arabic dialect only

Please send me an email at [email protected] to get in touch!"

Ahmed is a really kind and patient teacher, and he's incredibly flexible and extremely generous, so if you've ever considered learning an Arabic dialect before, I recommend trying out his classes! He also teaches cultural stuff in addition to the language, so you'll learn a whole lot and gain some new perspective.

Even if you never achieve fluency, having learned just a bit of another language can be very rewarding!

#please reblog this if you can #Palestine

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goldsbitch · 9 months

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That one Christmas flight

summary: Y/N and Lando Norris are seated next to each other on a long flight. Innocent little Christmas tradition that Y/N does every year brings them just a little too close.

warnings: fluff, one-shot (whops a lie!), meet cute

Christmas. Y/N felt like an alien walking among people. It was impossible to avoid it. It was present in songs, in decoration, in fashion, online and on the news. Everywhere.

It's not like she was a grinch or anything. Nor was it because of some tragic incident causing trauma. Just pure fatigue from all the logistics and travel connected, which most kids of divorced parents faced every year.

Flying from Japan back to England, from her mother to her father, was a chore that seemed unavoidable. Her mother was kind enough to splurge on first class ticket for her, which her fancy Tokio job allowed. Ever since fours years ago, she continued a tradition that was introduced to her by a fellow Christmas traveller - the most stylish sassy French woman, who often spend the holidays on a plane. She would get herself and who ever was sitting next to her a glass of champagne and chat them up. Y/N has never laughed so much in her life like she did when she met this woman - so she took the tradition as her own.

Lando's plan wasn't to be on a flight from Japan to London on the 24th of December. He had so little time with his family and friends that this secret work trip to the Honda factory was really pushing him into staying with McLaren for the following years and not switching to a different team. This whole situation was like fuel for his current headache.

Y/N second guessed her tradition when a super gorgeous looking boy, who seemed to want anything but to be bothered, was sat next to her. She was used to having older people sitting next to her. Anyway, tradition is a tradition, so she eventually got up to order the classic. She nearly turned back at the thought that this guy was giving off some serious "I'm a dick" vibes, he had barely acknowledged her since she sat down. Luckily, she ignored this feeling.

When a glass of champagne appeared before Lando, he was sure it was a mistake.

"Well, to Christmas," his neighbor toasted. While he thought that she was a rather good looking girl, he was in no mood for a fangirl.

"I'm very sorry, um...I'll be happy to take a photo with you or something, but I am not in the best mood for a interaction with a fan."

She gave him a baffled look.

He continued. "Look, I'll be more than happy to sign anything. Or a photo, just as long you keep between un on which flight you saw me."

Y/N put her glass down, this was a first one.

"First of all, sorry for invading your private time. I have this stupid tradition of having a glass with whomever I'm destined to spend this Christmas flight. Guess I was mistaken. Second of all, I have no fucking idea who you are. So, calm down." She downed half of her glass. Of course this stupid year would include an asshole like this. Oh well.

Lando was confused for a moment and immediately after that he felt like an idiot.

"Apologies," he slowly replied, somewhat baffled. "I thought you were a fan and I'm just not in the mood for that." Y/N rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her champagne. "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Is that a stage name?"

"No, " he laghed. "I think it was a random decision of my mom."

"Interesting. Y/N," she introduced herself, without looking at him.

There was a weird tension in the air. Lando was determined to break it. Y/N was currently casually offended.

"Let me get you another one so that we can have a toast."

"Great, getting drunk is also an option. Hate flying sober," she joked.

Another glass was brought by a smiling flight attendant.

"So, how does this work?" Lando asked. Y/N was a person easily annoyed, however as quickly this came it also ended.

"Fine. There are rules, btw."

"Of course there are."

"Ehm, ehm, " she cleared her throat. "So, this tradition was started by Madame Tatanova and from now on, if you find yourself on a plane on 24th or 25th of December, you need to toast with your fellow neighbor passenger and answer the following: why and for how long-"

"I will have to write this down, I have a memory of a dead chicken."

"-I'm not finished! And then you follow up by your biggest regret and one thing nobody knows. The purpose of this is to gain or pass on wisdom and use the opportunity you'd normally miss by blasting up your headphones." She's done this for four times now, still the introduction was missing the "Madame Tatanova magic". Maybe one day.

"Ok..." Lando was not following yet, but he was keen on doing so. She raised her glasses, as did he.

"Cheers, to Christmas flights."

"Cheers, " he replied and they both sipped their champagne. "Wait, I have a question - what would you do if I did not speak English? Or if I was deaf?"

Lando was being his cheeky self and Y/N was not having it. She answered the question with a look.

"Got it! Anyway...what was the question?"

"Why."

"Why? Why is the sky dark or....?"

"Why are you on this plane."

"I'm trying to get to London from Tokio."

"I swear to god, I will ask to be seated somewhere else, Orlando."

"Lando, actually."

"If you say so..."

"Huuh, I'm going back from a work trip. And since you claim not to know me, I can probably tell you more than I should. Um, imagine I am in a band, right? I'm singing for a band and every few years they change their lead singer, one of the two actually, and I'm a the lead singer who might go to a different band now. But it's not clear yet and super secret actually. So, please keep it to yourself." Lando felt like someone who has just discovered speech and this was the first time he was using it. "Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Sort of I think. So you're cheating on your band?"

"Uhh, I'd say checking out options."

"Remind me never to date guys like you," she joked and immediately regretted that. Y/N was not good at flirting and did not want to appear creepy.

Lando passed on this comment, still not sure if he could trust this girl. "So, what about you? Why?"

"The curse of the divorced parents. One lives in London, the other one in Japan and I'm a package they pass each year," she said rather bitterly.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I get to see mom twice a year and it's all always so planned and predictable. I would kill for spontaneity."

"Take me with you next time, I'm sure she'll be surprised." "Yes, she is a big fan of British guys, that's why she divorced one!"

"Great, happy to follow that route!"

Y/N started to relax a bit. This could be good, actually. "Ok, so now. For long are you staying in London, Lando?"

"Only few weeks. Then our music season starts. "

"Yeah, the one with all the singing, of course."

"Yeeah."

Y/N laughed a bit. He was suprisingly easy to talk to.

"So, how long?"

"A week. Then I'm off to Bologna."

"Uuuh, fancy that!"

"Yeah, I'm studying history there."

"Bologna is the one with the old university?" he asked, pretending he has never heard of that.

"No, not really, they just opened. Last year we did not have chairs, because the shipment got delayed," she replied with a dry tone.

"One does always study better while standing. I believe it was Socrates, who said it."

"Oh, yes. They teach you this at the singing music school?"

"Exactly. We were never allowed to sit."

They continued to chat all the way through the airplane dinner, getting few more glasses of champagne during that. Their laughter was interrupted by a flight attendant, who acted on a complaint from a fellow passenger. They both fell asleep watching a movie. Y/N woke up few times in the night and observed the boy next to her. Knowing this was the best Christmas plane encounter she ever had. Lando woke up as well, feeling strangely happy about the fact she was resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wait." Lando stopped her at the entrance to customs hall and pulled them both behind a column, so that they could not be seem by bystanders.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"This might be weird, but can I kiss you?" Y/N looked at the boy in a hoodie standing in front of her, cheeky guy suddenly appearing nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous. She hated the fact he was random guy on a plane to London and not to Bologna.

"Yes. Must be midnight somewhere. So it could be like a New Years thing."

"Yeah. Just an airport thing." With that he kissed her. Just two young people having a little moment of silence. His kiss was a light slow brush on the lips. He cupped her cheek and her hand brushed through his curly hair. First kiss usually does not take long. For a person passing by, this would appear like kiss these two shared a thousand times before.

When they eventually parted, it all seemed a bit surreal.

"We never got to the second part of your Christmas interview," Lando commented.

"Well. Let's say that the one thing nobody knows is that I just kissed a random guy from the plane. And that my biggest regret is that we will never see each other again." For the first time, she was this bluntly honest with somebody who had just kissed her for the first time. It felt intoxicating.

Lando smiled. "See, I knew we had something in common."

Lando was usually not so open with his crushes, if he could even put her in that category.

"Don't worry. I won't search for you online or anything. I want to keep the mystery of Lando alive."

He kissed her once more, before they parted.

Their hearts felt a little more heavier than usual on midnight that New Years Eve. Both standing surrounded by their favorite people, yet with the one they would wish to kiss being impossibly far away.

part 2

_________________________

@superlegend216

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #oneshot fanfiction #ln4 x reader #That one Christmas flight

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crackedpumpkin · 3 months

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𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟓 |

a/n: okok im sorry this series is lowkey super slow i promise it gets better without compromising on the soulmate stuff aight <3

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“Should I grapes?”

Your dad blinks. “I beg your pardon?” Squinting at the bunch of grapes in your hand, your foggy mind tries to comprehend what you are trying to ask. Eventually, you get there, the lost words finding their way back to you.

“Should I eat grapes?”

“If you want, just be sure not to be late for school.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. He holds it out, offering some to you. Shaking your head dismissively, you tiptoe and grab the container of ground coffee, placing it down on the counter. “Order up,” He jokes, watching you prep the coffee for the espresso machine.

You’d gotten it as a gift on your nineteenth birthday, having picked it out yourself online before heading down to the store with your dad to buy it. It’s your baby, your pride and joy, and you’d use it to its fullest potential each time.

There’s even a dedicated rack of syrups and other things you’d purchased online, but you always made an iced latte in the mornings. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have the strength to get through the day.

“I’ve got my first session today with Master Wu, so I’ll probably be back late.” You inform him, sitting down at the table after making yourself a vanilla latte. Emily's already made a plate of French toast that he’s munching on, having saved two slices for you.

You eat it regardless, choosing not to acknowledge this fact. A glance at the clock tells you that you’ve got plenty of time to finish up and make your way over to the university. You mentally tick off the checklist in your head, assured that you’ve completed most of, if not all, your work and assignments.

Although, that wouldn’t stay true for very long. The professor in your third lesson would probably give you yet another essay. At least you get off school early, which means that you’d have plenty of time before your lessons with Master Wu would start.

“Have you made any new friends yet?”

The remains of toast in your hands halt halfway to your mouth, eyes flitting from it to your dad’s inquisitive gaze. Slowly, you bring it to your mouth and bite off a piece, averting your gaze and chewing slowly.

He sets down his phone, the morning news displayed on the bright screen. Clearing his throat, he takes another swig of coffee before massaging the area between his eyes. “Did you get into a fight? At least tell me you won.”

“I did not get into a fight,” you say with mild outrage, offended he’d even consider the option. “And for your information, I have made two new friends.” you point the crust of the french toast at him with a frown.

He leans back in his chair with a raised brow. “What are their names?”

Crap.

“For your information, they prefer to not have their names disclosed. Confidentiality reasons.” To be fair, you aren’t exactly lying, per se. It’s somewhat true. The ninja are technically your new friends now, right? And you can’t just reveal their names, it’d destroy the whole point of a secret identity.

You nod absentmindedly, your thoughts making perfect logical sense in your head. The coffee is almost gone from your cup, and you peek at the espresso machine that’s practically calling your name. Surely there’s time for another cup, right?

“Sometimes I wonder if I dropped you on the head as a baby.” He mumbles with a tilt of his head, though the corners of his mouth hint at an amused smile. “Even if I did, I’m pretty sure I’d have taken you to the doctor’s. I think.”

Casting him an odd look, you shrug and quickly do the dishes. Realising there isn’t enough time to make another cup of coffee, you decide to head out to your first few classes of the day.

“Be back by 8!” You call out at the doorway, slipping a finger into the back of your sneakers to help shove them over your heel. The tote bag almost hits you in the face as you lean down, narrowly avoiding it and swinging open the door.

Warm sunlight greets your skin, happiness rushing through your veins as you pop in your earbuds and make your way to the university. Each step has a slight spring to it, and the colours all around are surprisingly more vibrant than usual. Delicious scents warm the air as you pass by Chinatown, mentally marking it down to visit another day.

With your entire being brimming with joy, there’s surely nothing that can go wrong, right?

— — — — —

Wrong.

This is all very wrong.

“And I was telling her all about how the professor is a total quack! Right?” Your body tilts to the side as someone shoves it teasingly, almost falling off the chair then and there. Mustering all the energy you have left, you lift your head and take a deep breath, plastering on the brightest smile you can muster.

Abby sits next to you, the table crowded with students. “Anyway, did you know she’s taking lessons from Master Wu??” The entire table gasps in shock, you included (sarcastically, of course. But it went unnoticed, unfortunately).

She gives you an odd look, tossing your response aside in favour of talking excitedly about how one time one of the ninjas saved her from a falling building or something of the like - you weren’t paying attention.

Instead, you’re busy planning for a way to escape from the group. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place. One moment, you got paired up for an assignment with Abby, and the next, you’re sitting down in one of the food courts around campus after she found out you had lessons with Master Wu after school.

In hindsight, it was stupid of you to reveal that. Back home, no one cared if you had connections to a celebrity, unless they actually showed up. You’d subconsciously let down your guard, and now everyone’s bombarding you with questions about the ninja.

“So, is it true that Kai uses hairspray and not gel?”

“Does Zane eat?”

“Can you help me get Nya’s shirt??”

That was probably the final straw. You clear your throat and instantly everyone quiets down, waiting with bated breath for your reply. Pausing for a moment, you smile as you part your lips to speak.

“I’m gonna be late for class.”

Taking advantage of the silence that follows while they process your short reply, you grab your bag and run, leaving them behind. It’s not long before chagrined voices start to complain, feeling only slightly guilty for Abby who’s left behind to salvage the social situation.

That wouldn’t be hard for her though, you suspect. She seems to be a social butterfly, which works out great, but also horrible, considering that she pretty much dragged you there. Wanting to make friends is a goal you want to cross off, but not this way.

The rest of the morning passes by fast, but your mental stamina starts to drain more and more with each passing hour. Finally, the professor releases you for the day, with the bright and cheery smile she gets from seeing her students suffer, like all professors do.

The classroom fills with chatter as the students all leave until you’re the only one left trying to stuff the laptop into your tote bag. A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you flinch, turning in surprise to see a brunette standing behind you.

She fiddles with something in her hands, eyes darting everywhere but at you. “Can I help you?” The moment you speak, she flinches a little, taking a visible breath before pressing her lips together determinedly.

“Hi, I’m Holly. You left this behind in the food court earlier…I was sitting at another table.”

“Oh, thanks,” you say with mild surprise, taking the student pass she holds out with a grateful smile. “I wouldn’t be able to get in the classrooms tomorrow if not for you,” you joke, waving it at her with a wink.

She seems to ease up, shoulders visibly relaxing as she laughs. “How’d you get into the classroom today then?” You shrug.

“I was behind someone else who was headed in the same direction and got too lazy to pull out the card, so I asked them to open it for me. Luckily, he was in the same class.”

“That’s so fair,” She replies with a wise nod. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. I’m in this class too. It’d be great if you could consider me as a project partner sometime!”

Humming, you thoughtfully mull the idea over before nodding. “Sounds good to me. I gotta head off now though. I’ll see you around Holly.”

“See you!” She waves you off as you rush out the door, an odd warmth in your chest. Thinking back to your interaction with her makes you smile. She hadn’t asked about Master Wu or the ninja…

Maybe she might just be your first friend.

— — — — —

The climb up the steep steps of the mountain is the usual, though this time you’re supercharged by the thought of having potentially met your very first friend in school. Even your loud knock on the monastery doors sounds cheery.

Zane opens the door, surprise written on his face at your bright smile, though maybe your flushed cheeks and beads of sweat rolling down your face don’t help convey it. “Hey there buddy,” you greet.

“Hello there friend! You arrived early today. Do you need a shower?”

You shake your head, walking inside and instantly being greeted by the regulated cooling system that keeps everything at the ideal temperature they decided. “I’ll just sweat it all out. Hey, is Cole around? I gotta return something to him.”

“He’ll be back soon from patrol. In the meantime, why don’t you come and grab a drink?” Zane offers, leading the way at your eager nod. The moment you walk to the doorway leading inside, Zane pauses, turning to stare at you.

“...Can I help you?”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if contemplating what to say. “I do not mean to offend you, but I strongly advise taking a shower. It is not that you smell bad, but you will need it, based on my personal experience.”

Crossing your arms, you raise a brow at him. "Are you saying I smell like a gym sock?"

He hesitates. "...No. I'm just saying that most people who climb up the mountain end up smelling like a gym sock and usually shower afterwards."

Flinching slightly, you press your lips together into a thin line. "Touché, ninja. Touché."

You take the lead, your body vaguely remembering where the bathroom is from your last visit. The shower is a separate room inside the bathroom, ensuring the utmost privacy for whoever uses it.

“Here, you can change into these after.” Zane hands a set of clothes toward you from a drawer. Accepting them gladly, you head to the bathroom and lock the door. Taking a quick shower, your body welcomes the lukewarm water that flows down your skin, dripping off your fingertips.

Upon changing into the loose black shirt and training pants, you secure the latter by pulling the strings and tying them tightly so they won’t fall. Zane nods in approval once you step out more refreshed than before, tossing the towel in the laundry basket off to the side.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to wash and return these.” Lifting your arms and swinging them back and forth a little creates a slight gust of wind that cools down your armpits wonderfully. That, combined with the sunny weather outside, is a picturesque scene for training.

He shakes his head with a smile. “There is no need. Feel free to keep them. We have too many clothes here, and it’s better to give them freely.”

Slightly odd response, but who are you to question their recycling decisions? Choosing to take it as is, you grin and continue the walk to the dojo. Zane waves goodbye to you, sliding the door shut.

Master Wu sits in the middle of the room with a cup of tea, sipping away in peace and calm. Approaching him, you automatically bow a full ninety degrees. The practice was drilled into you until it was almost instinct, especially if you were indirectly rude. Sometimes, you can still feel the screaming pain of your thighs crying out for mercy, forced to remain in a training position as punishment.

Rising from the bow, you hesitate slightly, waiting for Master Wu to acknowledge your presence. His eyes remain closed, his breathing deep and steady, embodying the very essence of tranquillity. After what feels like an eternity, he opens his eyes and meets your gaze with a serene smile.

“Sit,” he says softly, gesturing to the mat across from him. You comply, folding your legs underneath you and trying to mirror his calm.

“You have come far in your journey,” Master Wu begins, setting down his cup. “But there is always more to learn. You are skilled with the blade, but true mastery requires understanding beyond the sword.”

He rises gracefully. “Today, we will focus on adaptability,” Master Wu explains, “Kendo teaches you to be direct and powerful, but sometimes, you must flow like water.” He walks over to the empty wall and presses a hidden button.

A section of the wall moves, smoothly rotating to reveal a wall or neatly displayed weapons on the other side. He grabs two wooden swords, throwing one at you. Your hands reach out to grab it as you stand, shifting into your stance.

“Now, we shall spar.”

What?

Before you can blink, a sharp pain blooms on the side of your torso. Stumbling back a few steps, you gulp in a mouthful of air as you process what’s just happened. Master Wu is only a few steps away from you, the sword in his hand no longer there for a light demonstration.

You ready yourself, thankful he’s given you a few moments to breathe. The pain still throbs, ignoring it to focus on him. The blade stills in your vision, fingers tightly gripping the handle. It’s barely another second before you swing the blade, charging toward his nonchalant figure.

With a swift, fluid motion, Master Wu deflects your strike effortlessly, redirecting your momentum and causing you to stumble past him. His movements are smooth and unhurried, a stark contrast to your forceful approach.

"Adapt," he advises calmly, "Use your opponent's energy against them."

You turn quickly, regaining your balance and taking a deep breath. This time, you focus on the flow of his movements, watching for an opening. He remains relaxed, his stance fluid and ready. You feint to the right, then pivot to the left, aiming a strike at his side.

He counters with ease, the wooden swords clacking together sharply. Instead of resisting, you let the force of his parry guide your movements, spinning around and striking from a different angle. His eyes light up with approval as he blocks again, your movements starting to resemble a dance more than a duel.

"Good," he says, his voice steady. "Feel the flow. Do not fight it."

You continue sparring, each strike and block becoming more instinctive. He still lands more than his fair share of hits, while your wooden blade barely brushes against the fabric of his robes. Gritting your teeth at the sharp blow dealt to your leg, you tense every muscle in your body and continue to spar.

The sounds of your wooden blades clashing fill the air, your heavy breathing included. The fluidity and grace in his motions piss you off, a stark contrast to the rigid discipline of Kendo.

Why won’t he let me hithimgodfuckingdamnit-

A slight bonk on the side of your head snaps you out of your thoughts, skidding back and breathing heavily as you process it. “...Did you just hit my head?”

Master Wu blinks. “Yes.”

Then he strikes again, this time a slightly gentler hit on your calf, compared to the previous ones. You’re not sure whether to be thankful or frustrated - he’d just shown you how severely lacking you are, after all.

“We shall take a break,” he announces. It’s only then when you lower your sword that you notice the abundance of sweat dripping down your face, your back completely soaked. You collapse to the ground, legs sprawled out as you finally get the chance to catch your breath.

As you continue to practically gulp in mouthfuls of air, you turn to look at Master Wu who’s sitting down with another cup of tea. “I have a question.” He hums curiously, raising a brow. “Why’re you teaching me this and not Kendo?”

Hell yeah, drop that old man wisdom on me.

“The strikes and stances of kendo are ingrained in your muscles,” He explains, “but it does not mean you are invincible. Kendo has its strengths, but it also has its weaknesses. By learning to be fluid with your movements, you will become a better fighter than before.”

He tilts the teapot, pouring tea into a separate cup which he then holds out to you. Summoning all the strength in your body to crawl (yes, crawl. It’s embarrassing, but you’re truly too tired to care) to the small table, you pull yourself up and sit opposite him.

Without thinking twice, you tilt the cup back and down it in a single gulp, exhaling happily as it goes down your throat and warms your body.

Opening your eyes, you spot Master Wu’s bemused gaze, freezing momentarily before offering him the empty cup with a sheepish smile.

He fills it up at your silent request, letting it pass. “Your body is that of a cup. It can only hold so much, but once you break past your limits, you can expand its capacity.”

You nod slowly, the warmth of the tea seeping into your bones, easing the aches from your recent sparring. "So, I need to break my limbs?" That’s probably not what he's trying to get at, from the way his eyes widen at your response.

“Not at all,” he chuckles, “challenge yourself. Learn as much as you can. Then, make it your own. That is why I am teaching you. Not just because of your stepmother, and not just in the name of self-defence. You enjoy it, don’t you?”

Pursing your lips, you choose to sip quietly. He’d seen through you as easily as glass. You wouldn’t easily admit it to anyone, but you missed the intense training and the time spent sparring with your previous master.

The blood rushing through your veins and the sweat dripping down your brow every time gave you a rush of adrenaline you’d grown addicted to.

Now, it’s hard to refrain from. That’s not to say you’d do it every day of the week of course, but at its core, you found it fun.

“Ah, Cole.” He greets, raising his cup. You tense, turning back to see the Earth Ninja all dressed up in his gi. He takes off the hood, mirroring the baffled expression on your face. “Just in time.”

Cole approaches the both of you, bowing to Master Wu and sitting beside you. He looks over, eyes filled with surprise at your presence. Lifting your cup, you offer it to him in a show of good relations. “Tea?”

He shakes his head in refusal. Shrugging, you retract your offer and sip away.

Only to choke when you see him take out a cup of his own. Master Wu seems unfazed, pouring the tea into his cup as if it were the norm to carry it around. “Dude, do you keep that on you?”

He raises a brow at the pure amusement in your voice. “You got a problem with that?”

“No, not at all.” You reply, pressing your lips together to hide the growing smile on your face. “I’m sure you’ve good reason to do so. Like urgent tea sessions or when the kitchen doesn’t have any more vessels for beverages.” You add with a solemn nod.

First Papa’s, now this? What next, an emergency blanket?

“Okay, snob. I bet you don’t have your own cup, anyway.” He retorts with a huff, rolling his eyes.

“For your information, I happen to have the best mug in the world. It was a birthday gift, not sure if you’ve ever had one though.”

“A mug? As a birthday gift? What are you, lame?” He snorts, shaking his head in amusement.

“Where the hell do you keep it anyway? Won’t it get crushed because of all the fighting and stuff?” You ask, choosing to change the topic. He goes along with it (thank god), taking a sip before explaining that he puts it in a pouch that’s designed to turn stiff when pressure is placed on it.

Master Wu interrupts your discussion by clearing his throat and peeking an eye open. Cole Instantly straightens his back, delivering his report on the day’s patrol. “Anyway, I’ll get going now.” He starts to get up, only to pause when Master Wu puts forth a suggestion.

“Why don’t you stay and have a spar with her?”

“Me? Spar with her?” He looks you up and down, taking in your flushed cheeks and sweat-ridden body. “Won’t she collapse?”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, offended by his tone. “Excuse me,” you haul yourself off the floor with a grunt, taking a step forward and jabbing a finger into his chest. “I’ll have you know that I can beat your ass any day.”

He smirks, pushing aside your arm and taking a step forward, leaving barely any space between your bodies. “I’d like to see you try.” Your eyes narrow into a glare, infuriated by the smugness in his eyes.

Another cough interrupts you both, breaking your gaze and turning to see Master Wu’s raised brows as he stares at the both of you. You hastily take a step back, pushing him away in the process.

He lifts a hand and brushes off the imaginary dust left by your finger. You glare at him, grabbing the sword that lies at Master Wu’s side. You toss it to him, frowning when he catches it with ease without being caught off guard by the sudden toss.

Walking over to an empty spot in the dojo, you breathe in slowly, sucking in the cool air through your teeth. “Remember, true strength lies not just in power, but in the ability to adapt and flow,” Master Wu advises from the side, using his cane as a division between you both.

Your form is almost perfect, every muscle tense as you grip the handle of your sword with determination. You would not let this bastard get the upper hand on you. Even if he is a ninja, he can’t always be on his toes the whole time.

“Begin.”

In the split moment that Master Wu’s command rings through the air, you lift the sword and strike. Cole manages to barely dodge it, the gust of wind generated by the powerful blow moving a few strands of his hair across his face.

He does a backflip, landing perfectly on his feet and holding the sword out in defence. He chuckles wryly. “Not bad for a musketeer.” Your cheeks warm at the reference, recalling the night he’d found you in that hole not too long ago caused by the very thief who snuck into the fundraiser.

“Very funny, Earth Ninja. Am I supposed to applaud?” You ask sarcastically, lunging forward and striking once more. He parries easily, only for you to use the momentum to aim a kick at the back of his legs.

He stumbles to the ground, landing on his knees before bolting back up again with a glint in his eyes. “Fair point. I guess we’ll be doing this seriously after all. Don’t chicken out.”

“Are you sure you should be saying that?” You fake a sympathetic pout, tilting your head in pity. “Don’t you need ointment for those bruises first?”

The ghost of an amused smile flickers across his face, holding his sword up and moving toward you once more. The blades clash with a resounding knock, the vibrations travelling through the wood and into your hands. They tremble slightly, neither of you willing to give way to the other.

“Wanna make a bet?” He suggests through gritted teeth, though you can tell he probably isn’t using his full strength. You’d heard about his supposed ‘super-strength’ through Melody’s rambles, and you’d rather die than admit that you’re grateful he isn’t using it.

Contemplating it through heavy breaths and aching muscles, you decide to accept. Not readily though, of course. “What’re the stakes?” You ask, before using his weight against him and side-stepping out of the way to nail a punch at his side.

He dodges it easily, leaving you to groan in frustration before putting some distance between you both. Barely a second later, your swords clash again, this time with an emotion resembling that of humour behind either of your intentions.

“Loser buys dinner.”

Deeming it an acceptable bet with a nod, your mind races with ways that you could potentially win. Drop the sword and surprise him with a punch? Try to kick his feet? Deal more strikes, but swifter and faster than before?

Unfortunately, fate is unkind to you as always. Before you can react fast enough, he twists his body sideways, bending low and using the blunt of the blade to deal a sharp hit to your abdomen.

It knocks the wind out of you. You’re barely able to defend yourself before he sweeps his leg, knocking yours from under you and making you land on your back. Your body erupts with coughs as you try to catch your breath, your chest heaving.

“Looks like I’ve won.” He shrugs, nonchalant words accompanied by the smug grin on his face you wish you could wipe off.

With the tip of the blade pointed at your throat, you raise your hands in surrender, rolling your eyes in the process. “Motherfucker,” you mumble under your breath, accepting the hand he holds out to you regardless.

He helps you up, ignoring the way you purposely put more weight behind your grip in an attempt to drag him to the ground. Giving up, you stand of your own accord, hissing in pain at the way your chest stings from that last blow dealt.

“Well done, both of you. Your lesson is now over. I will see you again next week. Perhaps Cole too, if he wishes to join” Master Wu states with a knowing smile, exiting through another door and leaving the both of you behind.

You share a look, staring at the door he’s just left through.

“You don’t think…”

“Nah,” you shake your head with a nervous laugh. “There’s no way he knows. You didn’t tell him, right?”

“No way,” Cole denies instantly, shaking his head aggressively.

“Okay, damn. Don’t gotta be so strung up about it…” You grumble, crossing your arms. A twinge of hurt blooms in the pit of your stomach, but you choose to push it away, focusing on putting the weapons back onto the wall. Fumbling around for the hidden switch, you’re interrupted by a familiar hand pressing its exact spot, the wall rotating back to hide them once more.

He turns back to you with an expectant look. Tensing, you can already hear the money in your bank account beginning to fly away. Releasing a breath, you pinch the space between your brows. “Where to?” You ask in defeat.

“I’ll tell you that after you shower.” Looking up to see Cole’s wrinkled nose, you spot him subtly fanning the air. “You’re stinkin’ up the place right now.”

That’s it. I’m gonna punch him, ninja or not.

— — — — —

Taglist: @candyquokka @mattchka @em-100 @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight

#ninjago #lego ninjago #cole brookestone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #ninjago x reader #cole ninjago #lego ninjago x reader

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ms-demeanor · 9 months

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sorry if you've answered this before, and i hope you don't mind me asking, how do you know so much about computers and what seems to me like everything in the world? how did you become so knowledgeable? it's amazing

i just know a little about a lot of things and I probably have a fair number of things that I've dug into more than most people and less than people who actually focus on that stuff! It's kind of an illusion!

I do know a lot about computers and that's because I've worked at a computer company for 12 years and have been deep into a computery subculture for about 20 years - I do genuinely know a lot about consumer computers. That I'll own and that's experience.

I know a fair amount about literature because I've got a degree in it!

I know a fair amount about journalism because I've got most of a degree in it and I worked with journalists for a long time!

I know a fair amount about nutrition because I've got most of a degree in it and because I've been focused on reading a lot about nutrition for more than a decade because of my own food issues!

But mostly I'm just someone who falls down rabbitholes and has a decent ability to recall what I find when I run down them.

Also I get curious about things and will just go. Experience them.

Like at some point i came across a site for people who own and use RealDolls and I got interested in learning more. The site required an application because they didn't want people just trolling so I applied and I ended up reading through the whole site and reading the magazines they sent out for years after because it was just interesting. The way these guys bought clothes or compared repair techniques and cleaning techniques, the way they constructed identities for their dolls - it was all interesting! So now I know about the proper way to store a RealDoll and how their skeletons are put together and the best way to prevent rips or clean inserts.

Now imagine that with everything.

I got interested in quack medicine so I ended up reading the entire back catalogs of quackwatch and science-based medicine.

I got interested in the history of aspartame as a scare-word and I ended up reading a couple of books, SEVERAL entire blogs with decades-long runs, purchasing a military magazine from the 90s, and submitting a FOIA request.

But, like. I don't own a RealDoll or work in that industry. I am not a medical professional. I am not a chemist who works with aspartame. So I get these weird little collections of information where I know what *seems* like a lot to someone who hasn't looked into it but I know a lot less than someone who has taken the time to actually dedicate themselves to that topic.

And sometimes it's a years-long dive and sometimes it's a months-long dive and sometimes it's a few hours of me digging online until I feel satisfied with what I've learned and I never come back to it, but I've got three more talking points than your average joe at a party would.

(Also though I've attended various colleges at various levels for ten-ish years now and I've taken probably more college-level classes on a lot of subjects than most people have because I've now spent several years just kind of kicking around at community colleges and deciding that a cartooning class sounds fun or that a mesoamerican art class fills certain transfer requirements or that I might as well brush up on spanish, french, and german. Access to low-cost college classes in california is a big part of this, and having the time and money to take classes while i'm working is something that I've been very lucky with)

I've also worked pretty much continuously since I was 18, sometimes holding multiple jobs at once, and I know a lot of interesting people who do a lot of interesting things and I ask them about their interesting experiences and if they offer me a chance to go do cool shit with them, like launch a high altitude balloon or blow up some dynamite that's about to expire or join a band, I do it!

I was also one of those kids who had no friends and spent too much time at the library so I'd do things like read through medical textbooks or pull a book of home chemical formulas out of the trash and read it or take it into my head that I was going to read all of Shakespeare before I got to high school so I was a really annoying twelve-year-old and that kind of thing never really let up.

I don't know! I don't think it's that unusual and I think most people do this kind of thing I just happen to have less focus than a lot of people and talk a lot more.

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honestlyboringperson · 1 month

Text

Persona 5 AU anyone? No? Just me? That’s fine.

Anyways, welcome to an AU that’s been bouncing around my head for nearly a year now! It was inspired by @/chrisrin’s take on the MCYT x Persona series as well as @/scruffyturtle’s ACAU! Go check ‘em out!

Team B.E.S.T.

The Scottage + Gem

Fairy Fort

Magical Mountain + Cub

More Information is under the cut!

Grian - “Ace” - The Sun Arcana - Lafayette/Eris

Grian is a college student working for a degree in architecture. He lives with in roommate Mumbo and does journalling and photography as a hobby. For some odd reason however, he can’t seem to remember anything about his past beyond simply going to college, doing a part time job, and spending time with his cousin and friends. This is because Grian isn’t really human. In this AU, the Watchers take the role of Yaldaboath, and created Grian to begin the mental shutdown cases to scare people into looking for someone to look towards. In this case, The Watcher Cult (Called the Pupils) for the Watchers to take control. During his creation, false memories were implanted in certain people in the Pupils for Grian to more seamlessly appear. But unbeknownst to them, the Velvet Room interfered and erased Grian’s memories of his purpose.

Anyways, onto the personas, Grian’s persona is Lafayette, a key figure in the American Revolutionary War and the French Revolution. In both wars, he was known to lead his armies in decisive battles of the war to secure their victory. Even today, he’s celebrated as a hero in both France and in the US. This fits in with canon Grian’s habit of rebelling against any governmental entity that’s in the Hermitcraft server (although he is currently the government) l

His Ultimate persona is Eris, the Greek goddess of chaos and strife. She was the instigator of the Trojan war, where she threw at apple at Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena. She stated that it was for the “fairest goddess” and one thing led to another, and several kingdoms are now at war with each other. Wow, starting a war for shits and giggles? That sounds like Grian!

Jimmy - “Sheriff” - The Fool Arcana - Black Bart/Baldr

Grian’s cousin and charmingly unlucky, Jimmy is often the target of teasing. He’s the one to egg Grian on to actually go to class instead of just doing the online assignments. He’s personally seeking a degree in education, and is a stickler for the rules he agrees with. Unbeknownst to him, he was a victim of the Pupils and one of the people that had false memories implanted in him. He’s extremely excited about being a phantom thief, but his joyous excitement will be tested through the story.

His Persona is Black Bart, an American Outlaw who is known for the poetic messages he left behind after two of his stagecoach robberies. He is considered a gentleman bandit with a flair for style and sophistication. He brandished a shotgun, but was noted to never fire it during his robberies. He was famed to the point there is an annual parade in Redwood Valley, California where there is a Black Bart Parade where he is played and portrayed as a stereotypical Old West Villain.

Anyways, Baldr is Jimmy’s Ultimate Persona. Baldr is a Norse god, and was well loved by everyone in the Aesir. He had a prophetic dream where everything is destroyed and gets terrified. His mother then makes everything in existence to personally promise her they won’t hurt him, rendering him near indestructible. But there was one thing that didn’t promise his mother; mistletoe. Loki kills Baldr when the other gods made a game where they throw countless weapons at the newly indestructible Baldr where he throws a spear made of mistletoe at him. He was the metaphorical “canary in the mine” due to his death being the first domino that trigger Ragnarok. Baldr only returns from the dead after Ragnarok throughly destroys everything.

Impulse - “Rook” - The Hierophant Arcana - Wayland/Hephaestus

Impulse owns a small prop weapons company where he forges and creates prop weapons in his own garage. He is coined the “dad” of the group, but would let a stupid scheme play out if he thinks it’s going to be funny. Unknown to anyone but his close friends (Skizz, Gem, and Pearl), but Impulse has a criminal record. He once worked under the one of the biggest mafia families in the country, and he was caught by the police after his teammates from the mafia abandoned him and used him to distract the cops. Ever since then, Impulse has been secretly trying to locate his former teammates to enact revenge on them.

Wayland is Impulse’s persona. Wayland was a blacksmith who was enslaved under a king. He had revenge on the king by killing both his sons and built wings to escape the king. Afterwards, he supplied weapons to several other people in myths and stories such as Charlemagne and his paladin as well as Beowulf as their weapons maker. Impulse is an advocate for burying the hatchet after using the hatchet to brutally destroy those who wronged him.

Impulse’s Ultimate Persona is Hephaestus, the Greek god of the forge and blacksmiths. After being thrown off Mount Olympus, he swore revenge on Hera. He enacted said revenge by trapping her on top of a golden throne that made her unable to get up. Not only in this story, but also in tales such as Aphrodite’s affair, he is noted to be very vengeful and will not yield unless his demands are reached.

Martyn - “Knave” - The Judgement Arcana - Atlantis/Judas

Martyn is a stagehand in the local theatre known for his friendly and amiable demeanour. However, under that cheery demeanour is a burning desire for revenge. Martyn’s parents were devout worshippers of the Watchers and worked under the Pupils. He was subjected to several grievances due to his parents volunteering him for the Pupil’s experiments and abuses. Ever since he’s escaped, he has focused on destroying the cult. He’s been working as a grey hat hacker to clients with varying levels of morality to get money and further his research on the cult.

Martyn is the navigator of the team with his persona Atlantis. Atlantis was a city that was sunk beneath the sea for being too greedy. It was noted to possess technology that surpassed the technology of times and even to this day, it’s still being searched for. The people were of divine descent, and lost their humility as they became more human after each generation.

Martyn’s ultimate persona is Judas. Judas was one of the original disciples for the Big J, and sold out him out for 30 pieces of silver. Martyn’s story in this AU revolves around his grudge against the Pupils and the Watchers, so his persona is someone who betrayed a religious figurehead.

Mumbo - “Vamp” - The Hermit Arcana - Galileo/Thoth

Mumbo is Grian’s roommate and a self proclaimed “spoon”. He is working towards a degree in Computer Science and is often found tinkering with old technology in his room, often to the point him and Grian step on loose screws and pieces of plastic on a weekly basis. Much like Jimmy, he had false memories of Grian implanted in him, which would come into conflict when the origins of Grian is revealed. This was because the main reason he joined the Phantom Thieves was out of concern for Grian. According to him, the day he turned 18 is when his signature moustache just grew spontaneously.

Mumbo’s persona is Galileo, the father of modern science and the scientific method. His studies were considered blasphemous against the church and he was sentenced to house arrest. Even though he was imprisoned, he still had faith in his discoveries and continued his studies within the confines of his house,

His Ultimate Persona is Thoth, the Egyptian God of the moon, wisdom, knowledge, writing, hieroglyphs, and judgement. He’s associated with Hermes and due to the connection, created the epithet Trismegestus. He is someone who solves his issues with diplomacy and reason instead of pure power and strength.

#PERSONA x MCYT AU #Hermitcraft #Hermitcraft au #Grian #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #Mumbo jumbo #impulsesv #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #life series #third life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life

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whoslaurapalmer · 5 months

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twin peaks but it happens in 2010. laura palmer have iphone etc etc

this ask has been haunting me since i saw it last night oh my god okay okay so

i wanted to lead with laura being an influencer but no one was quite influencing in 2010 yet. but the point here being that i think she posts a lot online and cultivates her online image very carefully (very soft, carefree, excited teenager) and has a LOT of followers on everything and always gets a ton of likes. bc it's laura, she's so beautiful and special and popular, of course everyone is following her, of course everyone is liking all her posts to get a piece of her

she has a twitter (laurapalmer93) where she posts a lot of pictures with little captions like.......'morning donuts at the diner!!' with a picture of the donuts and a milkshake or a Coffee To Be An Adult, 'can you believe this guy? <3' with a picture of bobby making a face (or even.........dare i say it...........doing the dougie), a picture of donna and james with '<33333333' (modern emojis were just getting really big then but i myself was not a big emoji user in 2010 yet, so neither is laura), 'don't tell ;)' with a picture of her holding a cigarette (of course everyone still smokes in the high school bathrooms).

one time she gets away with posting the lyrics to if i die young by the band perry (IF I DIE YOUNG! BURY ME IN SATIN! LAY ME DOWN ON A BED OF ROSES!) (FUNNY WHEN YOU'RE DEAD HOW PEOPLE START LISTENING!) bc it's a popular song. it raises a few eyebrows but it's a song and it's laura. how seriously do you take teen angst, even among your friends? that's just what laura does. what's there to really worry about, huh? (the song was released in may 2010 but let's say the lead up to her death is in 2010)

on facebook she posts a lot of volunteer stuff. school dance photos, which she helps organize. buy some cookies to support the french club!! she's very involved with student council, and she organizes the group halloween costume. her facebook is filled with photos of her with other people, but not really any of just her. she doesn't post a lot of statuses, but they're usually about homework or tests or 'feels like summer!' towards the end of the school year. she's friends with her parents. she definitely takes ap classes.

she has a private vent twitter (lostinthewoods) with zero followers that she uses as a diary bc she thinks it'll be safer than having it physically written down. her childhood lisa frank diary with the tiny lock and glitter gel pens that she kept in her bed post went missing, after all. her vent twitter is filled with sooooooo many tweets bc this was still the 160 character limit days and she would just post and post and post especially late at night. (she definitely has string lights in her room.) she is a MASTER of using her phone with no one seeing -- she has the layout absolutely memorized. she was only caught texting in class once and of course the teacher let it go.

bob/leland finds her passwords and breaks into the vent twitter and leaves her horrifying tweets she sees later, instead of the back and forth they have in the diary and leland ripping the pages out.

i think she has a third twitter, for sex, but i'm not sure if that tracks for the time period? (snapchat wasn't a thing until fall 2011.) or like a forum sort of thing? i think it's still super easy for laura to sneak out, even in an increased security camera world. there's still a lot of stress on the, yknow, ~secret unexposed underbelly of the world especially in a time of more eyes on everything~ in the 2010s.

meanwhile, james posts music a lot on facebook, and also acoustic covers of songs. like. yknow. HEY SOUL SISTER. donna loves the original pusheen stickers. they record the picnic video on her flip video camera. mike loves icanhascheezburger, and he jailbreaks his phone. audrey gets really into audrey hepburn quote posting, Aesthetic France, black and white photos, berets, has a photography phase and carries and actual camera bc it's Vintage. she's an early tumblr user. no one else in school has a tumblr yet, so she feels very cool but also very lonely about it.

harry has very little understanding of social media, however cooper is very into all social media, he finds it delightful. he enjoys a good cat video. he looks through all of laura's photos, her tweets, facebook videos, and i think there's, honestly even more of a feeling of tragedy bc of how much more physical evidence there is available of laura's life, lingering fingerprints, last tweets, last posts, passwords to put in and information to see, cold blue computer light, the even worse voyeurism in people expecting so much of your life to be online, in watching it play out online, in the image laura created for herself online to be the person people expected

donna rereads laura's twitter in the dead of night, just over and over again. goes back through their texts. so much of grief has become so much more public with social media and using it as a teenager, and there's this back and forth in donna of not posting anything and then posting the most miserable statuses about losing her best friend.

i know i should get deeper into the investigation but i keep thinking instead of how laura definitely gets a 20/20 special. it's probably definitely called 'the secret life of the american teenager.' (bc there was that show on at the time with the same name) elizabeth vargas visits twin peaks, is appropriately grim, there's a lot of b roll of the town and the woods but without the grace of twin peaks' cinematography. they play up the creation of a narrative big, as they always do on 20/20. the revelation of her 'double life' is at the halfway mark and simultaneously not discussed enough and overestimated. 'laura palmer was your average, everyday teenager -- she liked horses. cats. she got good grades, was homecoming queen, had a boyfriend on the football team. she volunteered on weekends. she had her whole life ahead of her. or was there more to the story than anyone knew? was there a dark side to the all-american girl?' oh, it's agonizing. the trailers play up a lot of potential spooky woods stuff that isn't followed through on in the actual episode.

now 20/20 prides itself on getting the story right, so i feel like it's.........i feel like they have to say it's leland at the end (and they definitely never get into anything about bob). but i also think, for some reason, it could easily have a 'we never found the killer' ending. especially re: s3........the thing is, i feel like laura's death particularly is the kind of thing that shows up on 20/20, but the rest of the circumstances would've ended up on like the unsolved mysteries website (the last revival ended in 2010, before the netflix reboot in 2019) (especially with WELL OUR FBI AGENT WENT MISSING). and there's so much online to put together in a website about it, there's so much for people online to dig into who have never even been to twin peaks, to think they know a town and the people in it and the girl who died even if it's just literally THE MOST DISGUSTING VOYEURISM IN THE WHOLE WORLD i just think there's such a. horror in that. people have the most, just, enraging takes when they get involved in a Murder That Happened Somewhere Else. people thinking they alone can figure out a mystery they've never seen, they can of course see something no one else has. and it's different than the people in the town ignoring it -- i think a lot of the secrets in twin peaks stay the same, no matter the time period, so of course it's still, a terrible dying town killing the people in it, maybe even quieter than it is in the original, some new infrastructure but old buildings, not all of them occupied anymore, ANYWAY -- like of course yes people in the town ignore the same amount they did in the original, all small towns bury things. but just bc the town itself isn't paying attention doesn't mean that some rando online is going to know more, no matter how much they think they will. there's like an entitlement to details of a murder, an I Must Be The Hero, The Savior, bc i'm on a fucking reddit thread about it

now i have zero (0) idea of how medical science and forensics work, but i have to assume there have been some advancements in the field between 1989/1990 and 2010/2011. the town still rushes the funeral, but would albert have been able to find anything else sooner? what is it he would have found to point to leland sooner? oh........dna testing, maybe? would he be able to find out about leland right away? there's more of a sense of urgency, maybe less of a slowness between events, even more of a shattering horror. maybe leland goes missing in an attempt to cover things up. hmmmmmm.

final note -- cooper gets called mulder as a nickname bc the x files happened as a show in this universe.

#lulu talks about twin peaks #THIS HAS CONSUMED ME. I HAVE TO PUT IT DOWN. THANK YOU SO MUCH KAM I HAVE LOVED THIS

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