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diariesofthehermit · 3 years

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Consciousness and Physical Reality: Why we Need to Analyze the Nature of the Mind Once Again

Introduction

Part of the failure of an earlier post I wrote was that I was not very clear as to where I was coming from. I do not follow or profess any religion, though I am fascinated by all different belief systems. However, I do think that we , in modern society, have allowed our thinking about the universe and existence to stagnate. Partially, this is because we have fooled ourselves into believing that there are only two possible sources of information: knowledge acquired through the scientific method and knowledge based on faith. Between these two, I always choose knowledge based on the scientific method. However, there is a third source of knowledge: direct perception or appehension. And I believe it is through direct perception that we may find the key to unlocking some of the mysteries of existence. Specifically, direct perception and observation of our subjective experiences.

And before I continue, let me make a disclaimer from the outset: despite where this argument may appear to be going, I am not a dualist- nor am I a materialist. My thinking is inspired by a new wave of philosophy, but more on that later.

On Consciousness

I would like to start by asking a question: what is consciousness? Most of us believe, and rightly so, that our consciousness originates with the brain. We would say that consciousness is identical to the electro-chemical signals and patterns within our neural networks. I would not disagree. However, I do not believe it is fair to say consciousness is reducible to these neural networks.

Let us use a metaphor. I am on my computer right now. When I type on the keyboard, words appear on my monitor. It would be incorrect to say that my hits on the keyboard were separate from the images on the computer; clearly one produces the other. However, the images on the screen are not reducible to the presses of the buttons on my keyboard. There is an aspect of them, the image themselves, that would not be adequately described if I only bothered to speak about the process of touching the keyboard itself. This is roughly the relationship between electrochemical signals and conscious experiences.

The signals in the brain are certainly connected to my subjective experiences, but the images that I see, sounds that I hear and sensations that I feel would not be adequately described through speaking on these signals alone. What the brain contains is data or information. This data is transformed, through our conscious minds, into the images, sounds, tastes, smells and sensations of our subjective experiences- but though these are informed by the data, they are not reducible to the data.

This all sounds like dualism, I am aware, but I am not a dualist. I am simply trying to explain why a materialist understanding of the mind is inadequate. It is not that the mind has no material basis, it is that the word "material" only has meaning in conjunction with its antonym "immaterial". To say that the mind is material is to say that it has no immaterial characteristics, but upon a closer, honest inspection you will find that this is not true and that actually neither term is adequate; both must be discarded in favor of precision.

What is the missing piece? What is there in consciousness besides thoughts, sounds, smells, tastes, images and sensations? The answer is awareness. We often equate consciousness to thought, but consciousness and thought are not identical. Think of the sentence fragment: "I am aware of". This is how consciousness works. "I am aware of the ball." "I am aware of the tree." "I am aware of my anger." "I am aware of my thoughts." In everyday language and thinking, we usually understand that there is a distinction between awareness and the object of that awareness. It is awareness, not thought, that is the basis and foundation of consciousness. Awareness is the canvas on which all our subjective experiences are painted, it is the light which illuminates and powers all other mental functions. It is the "substance" or "clay" of subjective experience. Without awareness, there is no mind and no being.

Awareness is not knowledge, it is the faculty of being able to know, or to experience. Most people, for example, believe that a computer is capable of computing complex functions and mathematical equations. They do not necessarily believe that the computer is aware of itself doing so. If they did, we would probably not throw them away so casually. Computers hold data and information but, according to conventional wisdom, lack actual awareness. How would we program awareness into a computer? No one really knows. We don't truly know where awareness comes from, or what it is composed of.

We can program a computer to think, give it highly advanced AI, but we would only ever be able to guess if it was truly aware. There is no way to test for it, no know way to study pure awareness scientifically. We can measure brain activity, but brain activity correlates to the thoughts we are aware of and not to awareness itself. We cannot even be sure that individuals in deep sleep lack awareness, because awareness is not equivalent to or necessitates memory formation. Furthermore, we have a problem within our scientific understanding of the mind. "Awareness" is nonphysical. It cannot be measured. It has no weight, volume, shape or velocity. It has no measurable attributes altogether. Yet, somehow, it is produced by an apparently physical brain that does have those properties.

The problem

How can an entirely physical brain produce something nonphysical and completely immaterial? Matter and energy are known to interact, recombine and transform but not to create or destroy each other or especially anything completely unlike themselves. There is no ready scientific answer, and the easy solution is thus to pretend that the nonphysical or immaterial aspect of consciousness (awareness) simply does not exist.

A potential solution

There is another possible solution, however. Perhaps the immaterial (awareness/subjective experiences) and the material (matter/the brain/neurons) are simply two sides of the same coin. Perhaps the true nature of matter is consciousness, or awareness. We know, certainly, that part of the intrinsic nature of the matter within our brain involves consciousness. Which, then, is the simpler solution: that physical matter somehow produces, through an imperceptible and unknown process, an immaterial awareness that is entirely divorced from itself (dualism), or that matter and subjective awareness are in fact the same entity viewed at from different angles?

Maybe this sounds like materialism, but it is not. If the premise that matter = consciousness is true, then consciousness does not "arise" from the brain. Consciousness is the brain...and also the stars, sun and moon. If the matter in our brain has an intrinsic nature which involves consciousness, and the matter in our brain is not "special" or "different" from matter elsewhere, than why should consciousness (which we have already said is not equivalent to thought) be limited to the matter in our brain? To presume otherwise is to be a closet dualist pretending to be a materialist. To think otherwise would depend on the assumption that consciousness is something produced by the matter in our brain, and therefore not identical to it.

Consciousness is not divorced from physical reality, consciousness is physical reality. Again, to say otherwise is a form of dualism. Materialism supposes that subjective experiences do not exist, and that there is only electrochemical signals in the brain. Your conscious awareness proves that otherwise. Dualism supposes that awareness comes from something outside the brain, and is separate from it. Science proves that otherwise. The equating of matter and awareness is the best solution that we have. After all, what else would matter be anyway? We know what matter does, but not what it is. All the known properties of matter are descriptions of its behavior (it attracts this amount of other matter, takes up this much space, takes this shape, moves at this velocity etc.) and not of its substance. To say that awareness itself is that substance is to solve the hard problem and the mystery as to the essence of our material universe.

This is not solipsism. I am not saying that "your mind is all that exists." Other minds exist, or at least it is healthy to assume so. There is more to the universe than you, or at least this is what we must believe to be functioning members of society, but what those other entities are composed of could simply be conscious awareness. Atoms, protons, neutrons and electrons could all represent incredibly simple and fundamental forms of awareness, or subjective experience. Awareness, therefore, would be the building block and foundation for the entire universe. This view is known as panpsychism.

Conclusion

I came across this view while reading a book called "Galileo's Error" by Philip Goff, and it expanded my thinking. I hadn't consciously realized that my thinking about the mind fluctuated between materialism and dualism, and how deep down I felt neither were truly adequate. Panpsychism allowed me to fully accept the reality of my nonphysical awareness without negating the truths of science or the external universe, and to think more deeply about such things as existence, my relationship to the universe and philosophy. I would encourage you to consider this position as well.

#consciousness #reality #panpyschism #philosophy #spirituality #animism #shamanism #advaita #nonduality

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rennyforpresident · 4 years

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Renny’s BBSim: First Boots THE FINALE!!!

For the last time, Welcome back to BIIIIIIIIIG BROTHER!

@ashleaevans @bathroom-sand @kaysarswhore @kayysarridha @kelleekim @lahallucinations @maxdoesbb @misshoh @music-obsessednerd @nerdphobic @nomwastaken @pawn2393 @phylisisley @remember-caltoru @rennyforpresident @shaolinbynature

Welcome to the finale of Renny’s BBSim: First Boots! 95 days ago, 16 former first boots went to bat to try and redeem themselves in the BB house. So far, 13 of them have fallen short of the prize, but three remain standing, ready to duke it out.

@ashleaevans. Someone who started off as furniture quickly became a house contender. Often the center of drama, he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and made clear who his alliances were whenever he was given the chance. With two HOHs and Vetos under his belt, he has a formidable track record. Will he be the one to take the jury votes?

@pawn2393. Someone who laid low the entire season and relied wholly on his alliance to get him further. Some call it piggybacking, some call it meat shielding. I call it smart. He just won his first veto, and while competitions aren’t his strong suit, his social game has been nothing but on point. Will the jury recognize this and reward him with the half million dollar prize?

@shaolinbynature. This competition BEAST has won FIVE HOHs this summer. Completely redeeming their track record wasn’t enough, though, and she got involved in numerous deals and alliances, even finding love along the way. She also didn’t shy away from drama, and had several legendary fights during her stay in the house. Will her record precede here and earn her the grand prize?

These are your three finalists. The jury will decide between two of them, and in order to determine which two, we need to have our final HOH competition of the summer!

Round 1 is endurance. The competition seems easy, but as the waters act up and the weather turns bad, people get cold, and the complaints start rolling in.

After 48 minutes, someone loses concentration and accidentally removes their hand from their key

@ashleaevans: “FUCK! No no no no no I didn’t mean it!”

But unfortunately, he remains out. The other two battle it out to the end, and stay in their boats for almost three hours. @ashleaevans is sitting on the sidelines doing nothing, waiting for this to be over.

@shaolinbynature whispering: “Hey, @pawn2393, if I get off do you promise me you’ll take me to the end? I swear to you I’ll take you.”

@pawn2393: “Deal dude. I can’t sit next to someone as likeable as him.”

After another quick confirmation, @shaolinbynature pretends to slip his hand off, and

@pawn2393! You will advance to part 3 of the final HOH competition.

This one will test our houseguests’ memory, as well as speed. If they remember everything about this season, they’ll be golden!

Once both houseguests compete, they gather in the backyard for the results.

@ashleaevans, you had a time of 12:13. Good job!

@shaolinbynature, you will need to beat this time in order to advance to round 3 of the final HOH. Your time is...

11:20! Which means

The two houseguests competing in the final HOH are @shaolinbynature and @pawn2393. Unfortunately, @ashleaevans, you will be sitting this out.

@ashleaevans in the DR: “I’m a little pissed that I’m sitting this out. But I have faith that @pawn2393 can pull this out. He’s on kind of a winning streak right now”

(It’s called encore presentation because this is literally the same competition as last week’s HOH lmao)

The two stand on giant scales, ready to compete. The stress from the competition is palpable, and even Arisa and Julie are nervous.

After 8 rounds of questions, the game ends with a score of 6-5. The winner of the final HOH, and the person who has guaranteed themselves a spot in the final 2, is...

@pawn2393! You have secured your spot in the final 2, and earned the right to decide who will be sitting next to you!

Arisa: “Congratulations everyone on making it to the finale! But even more congratulations to @pawn2393! Before you make this final decision, both of our nominees get one more chance to sway your vote and plead their case. @ashleaevans, you’re up first.”

@ashleaevans: “You know how much I adore you, and I respect you infinitely. I have faith once again in your decision, and I know our deal will hold true. There’s no way you’d choose to sit next to @shaolinbynature in the end, and I have complete faith that we’ll honor our deal and be the final 2.”

@shaolinbynature: “If you want a shot at winning, you’ll take me. I’ve pissed those people off; the only one @ashleaevans has pissed off is @kaysarswhore, and you’ll have that vote against me too. I am telling you straight up, do not screw this up. Put him on jury and secure his vote too.”

Arisa: “When you’re ready, please stand and cast your vote to evict.”

@pawn2393: “I am so sorry about this, but I have played this game a certain way and I can’t change now. There’s no way I can be in final 2 with you. I vote to evict...

Arisa: “Come on out, @shaolinbynature!”

Arisa: “So close! Where did you go wrong??”

@shaolinbynature: “Not winning an extra comp! I knew I was screwed when I lost, there was no convincing @pawn2393. I’m pissed that I’m not still in there”

Arisa: “If you had won, who would you have taken with you?”

@shaolinbynature: “Oh @pawn2393 without a doubt. They’ve been floating this entire game, and @ashleaevans definitely has some jury votes on his side. That was an easy choice.”

Arisa: “Well, we are so sad to see you fall just short of the finish line, but we have a winner to crown! Let’s bring out the rest of the jury for jury questioning!

When @phylisisley sees @shaolinbynature, she immediately tears up, and both of them hug for the first time in weeks. No one really looks excited to see @ashleaevans and @pawn2393 as the final 2.

@nomwastaken: “My question is for @pawn2393. We were in an alliance together, and yet you chose to go against it in favor of who you’re sitting with. Why did you do that, and do you feel bad?”

@pawn2393: “I did it because I knew the alliance would only protect me for so long. I was at the bottom of that totem pole after you left, and there was nothing I could do about it. I did my best to play both sides so that no one would see me as a threat and take out my allies before they take out me. Leaving the alliance was one of the best decisions I made in the game, and I stand by it 100%”

@lahallucinations: “My question is for @ashleaevans. @kaysarswhore was a prime target for weeks, yet you failed to take her out. Why should I vote for you when you couldn’t convince people to vote out a threat like her?”

@ashleaevans: “I did my best and fought my hardest. There was no convincing people once their minds were made up in this house. It took me winning two separate HOHs to finally be able to vote her out, and I’m proud that she went out on my HOH.”

@kelleekim: “My question is for @pawn2393. Why should I vote for you when you were furniture most of the season? I didn’t see you make any real moves, and most of the jury agrees.”

@pawn2393: “That was my strategy, to hide all of my moves from you all. I worked with the Block Destroyers and cultivated a secret relationship with @ashleaevans at the same time. This protected me during the double and after that. I was the voice in every HOHs ear when they were nominating, and I was the puppeteer the whole time. You not recognizing that means my strategy worked.”

@kaysarswhore: “My question is for @ashleaevans. I think we all know where my vote is going tonight, but I want to ask what your biggest move in this game was, other than taking me out.”

@ashleaevans: “My biggest move was using chaos as my friend. Shifting the target off my back by throwing it on other people was good for me, and I did it multiple times. I did it with you, I did it with all the members of the big alliance. My biggest move was getting in fights, and I stand by all of them.”

@shaolinbynature: “My question is for @pawn2393. I won 5 HOHs, and I can’t remember you being in my ear. Whose ear were you in, like you said you were?”

@pawn2393: “Well, I was in @ashleaevans‘s ear and @kaysarswhore‘s ear for the most part, but me being tight with both sides of the house influenced your decisions too. I disagree that I wasn’t in your ear, because you never put me up.”

Arisa: “That’s all the jury questions we have! Now it’s time for the final pleas.”

@ashleaevans: “I have played this game hard. I knew I had a target on my back from the beginning, and I knew that I had to play. I won competitions and took out threats to my game. I made strategic moves with who I talked to and interacted with to ensure that I’d be sitting here. I couldn’t have done it without @pawn2393, but my game was my own. Vote for me, because I deserve this.”

@pawn2393: “I played a quiet game, yes, but I also played an effective one. No one in here considered me a threat, and I made it to the end virtually scratch free. I won at the end when my safety was dependent on it, and I voted out the biggest comp beast this game has ever seen. I controlled others’ HOHs throughout the season, and I played this damn game. I have proven that I am a BB great, and I deserve this title.”

Arisa: “Alright jury! Time to vote!”

@shaolinbynature votes for @ashleaevans to win. She respects the game he’s played, and knows that every move he made was to advance in the game.

@phylisisley does the same. She respects the fact that @ashleaevans never lost sight of the prize, and played hard.

@kaysarswhore votes for @pawn2393. She would never cast her vote for @ashleaevans to win, and is happy to hopefully see a Block Destroyer win the game.

@nerdphobic feels the same way. He wants a Block Destroyer to win, and genuinely feels like @pawn2393 played the better game.

@nomwastaken feels differently. He knows that @ashleaevans was the one who took him out, and he’ll be damned if he goes out at the hands of anyone but the winner.

@misshoh also wants @ashleaevans to win this. She believes @pawn2393 made two fatal mistakes by having the opportunity to vote out @ashleaevans and failing to. She wants to show him the error of his ways.

@lahallucinations disagrees, and thinks @pawn2393 deserves to win. She doesn’t respect the loud game that @ashleaevans played, and wants to see a quiet assassin win.

And if anyone respects quiet games, it’s @kelleekim. He votes for @pawn2393 to win as well, because quiet players stick together.

The vote is 4-4. @remember-caltoru is the deciding vote, and will determine the winner.

@remember-caltoru votes for @ashleaevans to win. He recognizes that he had the balls to play hard, and respects that immensely. He respects someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind.

Which means!!!

Congratulations king!! Certified Legend!!

BUT THERE’S MORE!

For the past two weeks, America has been voting for who they want to be America’s Favorite Player and receive a cash prize of $25,000! And the winner of AFP is...

@misshoh! Keep throwing pizza rolls, bc they love it!

That’s it for this BBSim! This was so much fun to write, and I hope y’all enjoyed it! I don’t think I’ll do another one any time soon, but thank you all for playing!!

Here are the stats for the season!

#bb22 #bbsim #bbsim first boots #bb

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melyaliz · 4 years

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Past loves and future babies pt. 9

Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC

Notes: I suck at action. that’s all I have to say about that

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

Trigger warning: Coming out and abusive parents

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Family Dinner was a bit later than normally tonight. 7’oclock. Carol North hated eating late, she had read somewhere it wasn’t good for your digestive system to eat after 8 so dinner was normally around 5:30 or 6. However the head of the house Richard had worked late so dinner had run a bit later.

It had worked in Dixie and Mac’s favor since they had more time to get their stuff together before they dropped the bomb. Next to her Mac fidgeted with his food unable to look at anyone else. Leaning over Dixie’s foot bumped her brother. Their eyes met for a moment and she nodded.

You can do this

“Dad I need to tell you something.”

“Of course what’s up?” his father looked up at his son and Dixie felt sick. She wanted to run away. A weird feeling of dread and fear flooding her system. She wanted to protect her brother from this while also wanting to run away and hide. Hide like she used to when she was a kid and her dad would blow up at their mom. Hide like she used to when her parents would fight, screaming at the tops of their lungs ending with her mother leaving for days on end.

Dixie was good at hiding.

“Dad, I’m gay.” Mac said, Dixie wasn’t sure why Mac wanted to leave like this. They had planed their escape for years now. Waiting until she was 18 so it wouldn’t be considered child napping. Part part made sense to her. But when Mac had told her how he planned on doing things she wasn’t sure why. Why couldn’t he just hide like she did?

But regardless she supported him no matter what.

“What?” Richard burst out laughing, “Are you trying to get some kind of reaction out of me?”

“No dad, I just. I wanted to be honest with you.” Mac’s face was impartial. No emotion at all. Dixie wasn’t sure how he could be so calm while her heart was racing so fast in her chest she thought she might throw up.

“Why are you trying to do this to us?” their father’s voice was so just as calm. So dangerously calm. As if he didn’t believe him. As if he was talking to a small child who just didn’t understand that dinosaurs were dead. That Santa Clause wasn’t real. “Honestly Macklin, what have I done to make you think this is ok?”

“Nothing dad, there is nothing you did. This is about me.” his leg was jittering under the table the only sign that he was even nervous. Only Dixie could see it. Only Dixie could feel the nerves radiating from him.

“Like hell it is.” Richard said slamming his hand on the table, “You are just upset that I won’t pay for you to dorm at college isn’t it? Well this is clearly why you can't. Gay my ass!”

Dixie couldn’t deal with it anymore, that was her brother Richard was talking about. This was Mac he was accusing of throwing a fit when all he was doing was telling the truth.

“Fuck you!” She snapped jumping up. They had agreed she wouldn't speak. That Mac would handle this but… she couldn't stop herself as the words spilled out. “He’s being open and honest and all you can do is focus on you.”

“Dixie!” her mother snapped glaring at her, “Language.”

They still weren’t listening. It was all about appearances. Don’t swear, don’t be out of the normal. Don't do anything we don't approve of.

“Oh please you agree with this?” Richard said to his daughter. “You're my good girl.”

“I love Mac. What is there to agree or disagree with?” Dixie whispered slowly sitting back down, her voice breaking. Mac’s hand found her’s under the table holding it tightly.

“You love Mac,” Richard laughed, “If you loved him you would be telling him he’s being an idiot.”

“And how is being gay being an idout?”

“Because it’s wrong! It’s not normal!” Richard snapped his anger focusing back on his son, “Just because you want attention or whatever doesn’t mean you should do something so… so” leaning back in his chair their father took a deep breath before cutting some meat. “Dixie go to your room. Mac if you keep spouting this nonsense you can forget college. In fact, give me your phone.”

“Dad, I pay for my phone.” Mac chocked out a bitter laugh.

“My house, my rules.”

“Yeah” Mac said standing up, “see that’s the thing. I’m moving out.”

“M… Me too” Dixie said following her brother.

“Young lady! Don’t you move!” Richard roared. Dixie flinched that feeling of fear rushing over her. She glanced up at her brother who just smiled down at her.

“Just keep walking” he whispered, pushing her in front of him. As if he could block her from their father.

“What? Are you punishing me now?” Richard said standing up, “What happened to my perfect little girl Dixie. My little princess.”

Dixie felt sick. Her stomach twisting in knots. Even now, even knowing for years what her dad really was. What kind of man he was. It still hurt.

Because a part of her wanted to be his little princess.

But her dad had always been right about her, she was unlovable.

Because even her own father didn’t really love her unless she was his little princess.

And she couldn't pretend anymore.

They both couldn’t.

“No dad, I am going with Mac.”

“Don’t… if you two walk out that door you are dead to me!” Richard screamed, “Try me! Just try. You will never get a cent from me. Never get anything. I’m your father. I have done everything for you. Give you everything! And you just want to rip this family apart!”

His endless screaming continued as they walked out. A stream of consciousness that held a sting that would echo in both their brains for much longer than either of them wanted to admit. Lie that his words meant nothing while it cut deeper than any scar they would ever receive from their future life on the streets.

The white van Mac had gotten a few weeks ago was parked a block away. Already loaded up with all their belongings. Only the ones they personally owned. They had agreed to only bring what was truly theirs.

So that they didn’t owe him anything.

Because they didn’t owe him anything.

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“Shit” Sam mumbled fumbling with his gun as he stood next to Bucky pinned against a wall. The soldiers or whatever they were came barreling down the hall. Four of them dressed to the 9s in armor ready for a fight. Where did these people come from? Why were they here?

“Bucky?” at the sound of his name Buck felt dread fill his stomach. Turning he saw Dixie walking up to him eyes wide in a cute little black dress. Her hair in a soft curl, make up done.

The date.

Steve was going to take her on a date. And now she was standing there in the middle of a war zone.

“Stay back” Bucky hissed holding a strong arm out trying to keep her away from the onslaught of fire that was raining down on them. His eyes shifting from her to Sam who was trying to stop the bleeding from the gunshot wound in his side. However Dixie didn’t seem to notice as she took a few steps forward. Her hands ghosting over his arm pushing it out of the way.

“You’re toast” all three heroes (well two heroes and one guest of the avengers) looked up to see the bad guy said holding up a gun. Eyes hard ready to shot the first person who dared to move

Dixie raised her hands up so they were visible in front of her taking another slow step forward positioning her body between the two men. “Sir, please, he’s hurt.” her voice cracked slightly, obviously frightened by what was going on. Bucky’s body grew tense, his hand slowly snaking toward the knife he had strapped to his back. If he could grab her arm and pull her back he would be able to disarm this man with minimal damage to them.

“We are just here for the time machine.”

“We don’t have any…” Sam started but the man snarled aiming the gun at him,

“Was I talking to you?” turning to Dixie he smiled, “Now pretty lady…”

Bucky’s fingers gripped the knife body tense, Dixie’s shifted slightly just a bit further out of his grasp but if he was just able to--

His thoughts were cut off when the man’s eyes grew wide at Dixie’s face, “Wait… you’re one of them!” There was a blast of purple light causing Bucky and Sam to blink. The sound of a gun going off and the smell of burning melted metal filled the air. Dixie’s right hand fell to her side, something that looked like a glowing purple fire saber burned in her hand. Moving forward she spun into the main hallway where the other men were. Bucky runs after her only to see her wing the blades in both hands stopping the bullets before slicing through one of the guys arm and another’s other’s leg.

Standing up she pressed her hand toward her ear “Mac, can you see Steve?” she asked as she ran down the hall leaving the two men alone.

“She’s not just some little human is she.” Sam mumbled as Bucky shook his head. He needed to find his best friend and soon. Or the time machine. Not that it was working, but that was probably where the goons had gone.

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Steve was in the hanger bay with Wanda. They had seen several men barging in through the open bay doors. It was hard to keep track of the soldiers, they seemed to fade in and out. When they had first arrived it looked to be about fifteen and now there was four. Two twins and a woman with a whip and a large man with two kusarigamas. Steve wasn’t sure how it was possible but he was also preoccupied with the large man advancing toward him. The chains from his kusarigamas screeching like a warning against the concrete.

“Steve” Wanda gasped trying to block the twins that were attacking her. They seemed to be fading in and out as if ghosts. Turning Steve was about to help her when he felt a pain shoot through his back.

Turning he saw the large man grinning at him. His silver plated teeth glistened in the light that streamed from the glass ceiling of the hanger. His blades glistening red.Next to him the woman smiled cracking her large steel whip.

“Get him lover” she hissed, licking her lips, her bloodshot eyes bright with excitement.

Some guy with a Mohawk and these huge kusarigama let out a snarling laugh bearing his silver plated teeth. Next to him a woman with a whip crackled it at Steve’s legs.

“Come at me Mr America!” he hissed slashing at Steve again barely missing Steve’s ribs as the super soldier twisted out of large man’s way. Steve’s gaze drifted toward Wanda who was holding off the twins. It was hard to tell if she was gaining the advantage or not from where he was.

The black steel of the Kusarigama smashed into Steve’s shield making Steve’s arms ring from the aftershock bringing him back to the fight in front of him. Before he could fight back, the man kicked him with a thick boot making Steve fall onto his back.

This wasn’t good.

The man smiled holding up the blade bridging them down hard on Steve’s shield causing sparks to ignite against the shield.

“I'm going to cut you open like a fish” the man howled , raising his hands again. A few feet away the woman laughed cracking her whip in a rhythmic crack, crack, crack.

Steve braced himself as the large man lifted up his blades above his head ready to crash them back down.

And then a bright purple light burst from the man’s chest. Burning through his sternum the smell of burning flesh filled Steve’s nose. Letting out a cough the man looked down at in shock. Blood dripped from his mouth before he stumbled backwards off Steve. Choking a few times before he crumbled onto the floor. The life leaving his eyes

Steve sat up to see Dixie standing there, panting slightly. Blood splattered across her hands and over her chest and neck. Her eyes hard as she met him. He couldn't see any wounds so Steve could only assume the blood wasn’t hers. Another purple blade like the one that was glowing out of the man’s chest was in her left hand.

The woman with the whip, seeing her comrade, out a screamed scream running toward Dixie. Turning Dixie held out her hand, the blade from the man’s chest faded away before appearing back in her hand. Taking a defense stance with both blades she stood over Steve.

“DIE BITCH!” the woman screamed, swinging her whip. It was no match for the blades Dixie cut through the steel coil as if it was a hot knife through butter. Pulling out a gun the woman shot a few bullets toward Dixie but she quickly deflected them continuing to walk toward the woman.

“Stand down” Dixie said, “and I won’t cut your arms off.” her voice filled with venom. Steve had never heard that tone before. Commanding, meaning every word. It wasn’t a threat, it was a promise.

Something the woman didn’t seem to realize as she let out a snarl, tears in her eyes. “I’m going to kill you!” she cried grabbing a rocket launcher that was strapped to her back. As she pulled the trigger Dixie threw one of her glowing blades forward slicing the woman’s shoulder making the women scream falling to her knees.

Moving quickly ignoring the pain in his back Steve bolted up grabbing Dixie by the arm pulling her back flush to his chest. Swinging his shield he hit the rocket up sending it spinning through the glass ceiling.

Dixie looked up at him as shards of glass showered down around them. His blue eyes meeting her own as he held his shield up over them protecting them.

“Are you ok?” she asked, her expression softening and something in Steve shifted. He should be asking her that. He should have been rushing to save his little -not- wife. Yet here she was barging into the fight covered in who knows what’s blood checking on him making sure he was ok.

“I… yes” he said, a feeling of relief washing over him so strong he bent over gently kissing her forehead.

“Y… you weren’t supposed to be..”

The couple turned to see one of the twins standing there with a gun in his hand. Wanda behind him, her powers holding the other, her eyes glowing as she reached up to grab the other when there was a whirring sound and a net flew out of nowhere tangling the man before electrifying him.

“Stay the FUCK away from my sister!”

A curly haired man cried walking into the hanger, dressed in jeans and a black button up shirt, he had a pair of clear green glasses and was holding up a weird silver bracelet around his left arm. An army of drones followed him.

“MAC!” Dixie let out a squeal pushing away from Steve crawling under his shield that was in front of both of them before dashing toward the man. Throwing herself into his arms she hugged him tightly.

Steve knew the name. He had caught Dixie several times on the phone talking to a Mac. Her face lit up in pure joy and comfort. She had mentioned him before too. Her brother. The only person who she seemed to mention from her previous life. The one before this.

“It’s always just been me and Mac” she would say with that look on her face. One he knew very well. It was the one reserved for those who were your family. Your most trusted. The ones you would go to the end of the world for.

It was the feeling he had for Bucky.

“What are you doing here?” she was asking him as Tony and a few other avengers walked into the hanger.

“Who’s this?”

“This is my brother.” Dixie said turning, the look on her face told Steve all he needed to know. She was worried they were going to rip them apart again.

“He’s staying.” Steve said to Tony, “I need a shower.”

“I… ok whatever” Tony shrugged knowing he would get all the information later. They had bigger issues to deal with right now. Like all the bleeding intruders.

-------

Steve winced as the warm water hit his back stinging the deep cuts that were slashed across his back. They were going to be a pain (in the back) to fix up. Maybe he should go down to the infirmary… or maybe.

“Want some help hansom?”

The sound that came out of him was that of a small child and a cat that just had it’s tail stepped on. Dixie stood there, eyebrows raised trying to fight back a laugh as she stood in front of the glass walk in shower.

“Ok boys count chill I’m not going to jump you.” she said, “Can I come in?”

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Name Calling (47)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, DEADPOOL & X-MEN

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -

Vernichtung - Destruction, Annhialation.

It was what you were named and what you were supposed to be but the only thing you wanted to destroy was Bucky Barnes.

The ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on enjoying it quite so much.

But when your past catches up to you in the form of the mad scientist who made you, Bucky might be one of the only things that can save you from yourself. You can’t run from what you are but with his help, you can fight back.

Current Word Count - 127,743

MASTERLIST or Read on Ao3

Moodboard by @talesofakindredspirit

Chapter Forty-Seven - The Doctor Will See You Now

Jack Docherty, like all men was born with the potential for good and evil. There was no deciding factor ingrained in his DNA. At 06:24 am on December 3rd 19 1951 he was born a blank slate and his fate was to be decided by the man and woman the midwife handed him too.

Ian Docherty was a man of faith, a God fearing man. To him, the squealing babe in his arms was another miracle of the lord.

Emma Docherty was a woman who felt she was forsaken by God and her husband. To her, her infant son was nothing more than another burden.

The first three years of Jack Docherty’s life were unremarkable. Seven months into the third year, everything changed.

“Your father is sick. God is punishing him.” His mother told him.

Jack crept into his fathers room and peered at him over the top of the bed. His once vibrant father was nothing more than a bag of bones lying on the bed, his skin sallow and sunken in, stretched over his skeleton. His chest rasped and wheezed as he tried to breathe. Jack reached up and with his little fist, grabbed his fathers hand.

Almost like magic, colour bloomed across his fathers flesh and life returned to him. For the first time in days he opened his eyes. There was a small thump from the next to the bed and he looked down.

“Jack? Jack? EMMA!” He yelled.

Emma Docherty rushed into the room, falling onto her knees next to her sons prone form. As soon as she touched the boy her skin took on a sallow palour. And so at three years and seven months old, Jack Docherty healed his father and killed his mother.

“God knew my wife was poisoning me and gave me a son to heal me and punish her for her sins.” His father told the church.

At first nobody believed him but when his son lay hands on old Mrs Carver and she was healed of her blindness they knew the truth. It didn’t matter to them that Jack was now blind. It didn’t matter to his father. Until he realised that the next person Jack touched would inherit the blindness.

That was the day his father started buying rats. It was also the day Mrs Carver saw her husbands transgressions with the neighbour and killed them both.

Not even four years old and Jack Docherty was dragged to churches up and down the country to heal the sick, no matter how much pain it caused him. And everywhere they went there was a trail of dead rats and ungrateful people.

When Jack Docherty was seventeen years old he laid hands on a man with a painful, terminal disease. And instead of passing it to a rat, he passed it to his father.

“When you see God, ask him why he would do this to me and not expect my revenge.” Jack hissed to his dying father.

Evil is not born in the womb, it festers over time, through tragedy. And humanity was evil, Jack Docherty knew this to be true.

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

Leaving Bucky behind was the only way to keep him safe, if you hadn’t then he would be in a cell next to yours and while you loved him, you weren’t quite that co-dependant. Besides, if you were going to get out of this then you wanted Bucky out there, looking for you.

So you went quietly, letting Docherty lead you to the helicopter. You had planned to kill him as soon as you were in the air and you knew Bucky was safe but he had planned for that and as soon as you stepped onto the craft you were hit with several tranq darts and tazed for good measure.

When you woke up again it was in a cage almost identical to the one you had grown up in, the only difference was the room around it. This room was dark and musty and your grandfather was sat waiting for you to wake up.

He’d never been much of a talker before, apparently he had a lot to share now though.

Of all the tortures Docherty had subjected you to over the years, this was by far the worst. You shoved your hands in your pockets and gave him a bored look.

“So you’re a mutant?” You asked casually, it had been the only part of his story that had picked up your interest.

“It never occurred to you I might be?” He asked, as if genuinely surprised you didn’t know.

In retrospect, it made sense. Your mother was a mutant, she had to have got it from somewhere. It also explained how he had poisoned a mutant with healing abilities.

“Honestly I never really gave much thought to why you were such a dick and I gotta say... Cool backstory, you’re still an asshole.” You responded with a shrug.

“Such fire. Stark was good for you.”He said mockingly.

“You thought if you could raise me like you were raised I would turn into a psychopath like you did? Well I bet you feel like an idiot now because guess what Docherty? It wasn’t your upbringing that made you the way you are, you’re just a dick.” You mocked back.

“I saw the depravity and selfishness that people posses. They don’t deserve to live.”He hissed.

“I saw it as well, courtesy of you and agree to disagree. There are good people in the world. I’m one of them, despite your best efforts.” You rebutted.

“Ungrateful child. My best efforts made you what you are, into a god! You have no idea what I had to sacrifice to make you into Vernichtung, to bring the world to it’s knees and make people pay for their depravity!”

“Sacrificed? You mean your daughter? My mother. The one you kept locked away, waiting for the right moment to kill?” You snarled.

He looked taken aback.

Locked in another cage by him, you didn’t feel as brave as you sounded. But you were channelling Tony because this pathetic, snivelling excuse of a man would never see your fear again. So you would trade barbs with him and rile him up and you would do it with a smile.

You thought of your father and he gave you the strength to smile at the man you hated above all else.

You thought of Bucky and he gave you the strength to stand tall in the face of your abuser.

“Sorry, did you want to dramatically announce that? Go ahead, I’ll even fall to my knees in slow motion when you do.” You quipped with a signature Stark grin.

“Yes, I killed my daughter. I needed the healing mutation she had but she was weak. So I gave Vernichtung to you, your natural mutations and super soldier serum made you strong enough to survive the multiple volatile mutant abilities in your veins.” He explained calmly.

“She wasn’t weak. All those years and she still remembered me! She loved me!” You exclaimed furiously, determined to defend her memory.

“She was a slave to her heart, to her emotions. She wasn’t like me so all she was good for was her DNA. She died to help make you into what you are supposed to be.” He said callously.

“You’re right. You went to a lot of effort, sacrificed so much and for what? You’re an old man who has achieved nothing. I’m never going to destroy the world.” You scoffed.

“But you will. When you let that mutant escape I saw an opportunity. I let you go, let you be free. And I never stopped watching, waiting. You needed to have it all before I could take it from you.” He said, holding up a picture of you and Bucky, the one of you on the balcony.

“That was your master plan? Let me befriend Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and then steal me away from them? They will come for me. Whatever dank hole you have us hiding in, they will find us.” You vowed.

He chuckled and walked over to a button on the wall, pressing it. You winced as the wall in front of your cell rose and the light blasted in. As soon as your eyes adjusted you looked out of the window.

“Motherfucker.” You swore.

This was why nobody had been able to find Docherty, he wasn’t hiding. You were looking at Stark tower, it was a literal stone’s throw away. Three, maybe four blocks at most. He’d been right under your nose the whole time.

“Do you see? You never escaped. You never could.” He told you.

You couldn’t look at him, you turned your back on him as you tried to get your breathing under control. This whole time, he’d been right here. Those first days at the tower, learning to trust Tony... He had been down the street. Every moment you spent at the compound, Docherty was here where he could get to Pepper. You weren’t afraid anymore. Not even close.

You were pissed.

“Are you with me?” You growled.

“I’m always with you.”He answered.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” You said turning around with a feral smirk.

You raised your hand and blasted the cell door open, sending it spiralling across the room in pieces.

“Vernichtung.” He breathed out reverently.

“Sorry grandpa, it’s still me.”You snarled.

“Impossible.” He gasped.

“No, it’s not. Because all of me hates all of you.”

You stood tall and let the black veins ripple across your skin but your eyes remained clear. You and Vernichtung were united as you advanced on him, ready to tear him apart and put an end to him once and for all. In this, in your hatred of him, you were one with your darker self.

For you, for your mother, for every innocent he had ever hurt... He was going to pay.

“The thing about Vernichtung my dear is it is not a natural mutation.” he snarled and grabbed your wrist.

As soon as he touched you, the veins fled down your skin and onto his hand, rippling up his body.

“It’s a disease. That’s why it turns your blood black.” He said victoriously.

“No!”

You could still feel her in your mind, snapping at the man stealing her power. He convulsed as it overtook him.

“You need the healing mutation to survive it. You’ll be ripped apart.” You warned him.

“Not before I rip apart everyone you love, and then you will have nothing. Then you may have your power back and you will finally be ready to use it.”

“I won’t let you do this.” You said desperately.

He only laughed and you were thrown backwards, the Deathwave being unleashed on you and rupturing you from the inside out.

Your broken body landed in a pool of your own blood and you realised there was nothing you could do, he was going to rip apart New York and with it, everyone you loved.

And then he would get his wish, because you would destroy the world if you lost them.

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

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn.

The next chapter is the penultimate chapter, the big battle, the explosive finale before the dust settles. So strap in folks, next chapter is going to be long and painful.

Also... Jake Peralta: Cool motive, still murder.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt @meganjonezzzz@dugan365@fluffeh-kitty@memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone@piscesbarnes@free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard@dropthepizza346@jaynnanadrews@likes-to-smell-books@drdorkus @life-wanderer@metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky@jsmith509

#hattersmarvelverse #bucky x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

enjoy your stay - chapter seven

A/N - Just for now, I’m trialing not putting in chapter links on this post to see if it helps more people see it since the tumblr search function cuts out posts with links. If there’s not a big difference, I’ll put them in later, but to see the first chapter if you’re a new reader, please click on my blog and check out my masterlist.

Warnings for sexual content in this chapter: public sex, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, mild degradation, dom!Jimin but also slight sub!Jimin (you’ll see).

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER SEVEN ↳You have a new roommate in your apartment, and you just hope he doesn’t burn the place down while you’re out on your road trip with Jimin.

It only took the energizer bunny a couple hours to move his stuff into the spare room and have some of the lunch (or what was your equivalent of a midnight snack) you made for him before he was acting like he owned the place.

You stood beside the couch, staring in complete bewilderment as he furiously smashed keys on his computer, headphones blasting echoes of gunfire around the small apartment and feet resting on the edge of the coffee table.

He had yet to take notice of you standing there, too hyper-focused on the flashing graphics on his screen. You suddenly felt the urge to call up his parents and ask them how the fuck they did it.

It was time for the two of you to leave for work, and while he was in his uniform, a slick black shirt and pants and his apron wadded up by his freshly shined shoes, but while you were ready to walk out the door, he was immersed in a shootout on your living room couch.

Was it your responsibility to get his attention? Did his parents tap him on the shoulder and send him on his way? You sighed and bent down to wave a single hand in front of his face.

He blinked wildly, and even had the gall to dry and dodge your hand and keep playing for a few seconds before he really paid any attention to what was going on.

He let out a little gasp and paused the game, tossing his laptop on the couch and bounding over to the door. “I have so much more time for activities, noona! This was the best idea ever!”

You flicked him your most convincing smile and took him outside to get in the car. You were beginning to think maybe it wasn’t the best idea ever.

After the two of you arrived back home after an exhausting night, squinting at the rising sun and trying not to scuff your shoes by dragging your feet, you sat him down at the kitchen island and told him some ground rules.

You were leaving in an hour or so to go to Jimin’s house, where he would take you to his competition and back again for the day, and you wanted to make sure Jungkook didn’t burn the apartment down in your wake.

“Okay, no oven while you’re gone, gotcha. Can I use the barbeque?”

You frowned. “I don’t have a barbeque.”

“Yeah, right there.” He gestured, and you followed his gaze.

Your mouth fell open. “You mean the stove?”

“Whatever you want to call it, yeah.”

“N-” You had to stop and take a calming breath before you could continue. “Do not use the stove, Jungkook. You have microwave rights in this house, okay? Anything more advanced than the microwave, don’t touch it.”

“Ah, this is gonna be so sick. Mom and dad never let me stay at home by myself for more than a couple days.” He rocked the stool back and forth and glanced around the apartment. It was basically just two bedrooms, a bathroom, and one big space where the lounge, kitchen and laundry all resided. That didn’t seem to faze him, and you felt like it was probably for the best that he had limited space to roam while you were gone.

“I’m not going to be gone a few days, I’ll be back early next morning.” Namjoon had allowed both you and Jimin a night off for the occasion on the condition that if Jimin won, he had to thank his amazing boss in his speech. Potentially Namjoon didn’t realize it wasn’t the Grammys or the Oscars, and the winners didn’t hold a trophy and give speeches, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or so Jimin claimed.

The two of you would camp out at a hotel in the town over, one Namjoon personally recommended, and head back early the next morning so that you could sneak a nap before work on the Sunday night.

Surely if the doe-eyed kid in front of you could be trusted with an entire shelf of alcohol, he could be trusted to keep your apartment undamaged for twenty-four hours. God, you really hoped so.

Jimin’s house was pretty close to the apartment block, and when you pulled into his driveway he was already sitting on his porch, two massive suitcases propping him up.

The shock that came with seeing him for the first time in casual clothes almost made you crash right into his house when your foot came down on the accelerator instead of the brake, but once you safely parked, and he rolled his luggage over to you, you took the time to fully appreciate it.

He was just wearing a relatively loose white tee and a pair of high waisted jeans rolled up at the ankles, but he looked so good it was almost a crime to stick him in all-black while on duty. The whole bellboy schtick was cool, but the dark colors really took out all the definition. His shirt was thin enough that you could just about see through it when the sun shone right, and you busied yourself with the aircon buttons to avoid drooling.

He seemed a million times more comfortable in regular clothes, and when he hopped into the passenger seat, he gave you a blinding grin. You did your best to return it, but you were more than a little distracted by the way he rested the ankle of one leg over the knee of his other, pulling his jeans taught across his thighs, and the way his hands, now covered with several silver rings of various sizes, squeezed at the muscle absentmindedly.

Or maybe not so absentmindedly. His smile turned mischievous and his eyes glittered.

With a start, you realized he had asked you a question. “Yes, absolutely,” you stammered.

His tongue shot out to wet his bottom lip. “I asked you how you were. But if you’re that eager to get on the road, let’s go.”

You laughed nervously and backed out of the driveway.

“So, what’s your dance like for the competition?” you asked a few minutes later. “Do you make up all the dance moves yourself?”

You had furiously kept your eyes on the road this whole time, but even now you could feel his intense gaze on you. “It’s called choreography, and yes. I’ve been practicing for a few weeks to get it perfect.”

“Do you have a costume?”

“Why, would you like to see me in a leotard?” You spluttered a little, but he chuckled heartily before continuing. “Man, you really know nothing about dance, do you?”

“I haven’t actually seen a proper dance in real life before. Just never got the chance to, I guess.”

“So, I’ll be your first, then?” His tone was deliberately provocative, and the warm palm that came down to rest on your knee certainly didn’t help you concentrate on the road either.

You coughed a little and laughed nervously. “You can turn on the radio, if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh- Okay.” He waited for you to continue your poor attempts at small talk, but you didn’t know what to say anymore. His hand fell away from your leg.

It took almost half an hour of strained silence before you spoke up again. “Look, I’m really sorry if I’m making things awkward. I don’t want to ruin your day.” “Don’t apologize. My day is getting better every minute I spend with you.”

“Well,” you quipped, “maybe I should start charging.”

“I’d pay.”

“I don’t think you could afford me, Jimin. I’m not as cheap as Hoseok.”

He let out a laugh, the both of you relieved that he weird tension in the vehicle had evaporated. “There must be some other way I can repay you,” Jimin simpered in a high-pitched tone.

You snorted. “You can’t offer sexual favors as payment for sexual favors, you idiot. That’s a pretty poor business model.”

“I disagree. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. It’s a very common practice.”

“It’s only worth my time if you give me something that I couldn’t give myself. You’d have to show me something new, otherwise what’s the point?” You risked a glance over to the passenger seat and caught Jimin staring right at you, with a dark look in his eyes.

“There are many things I’d love to show you, baby,” he vowed in a sultry tone.

You were hoping he didn’t see the way your hips shifted, and thighs clenched, but his quiet chuckle told you he probably had.

When you arrived, Jimin directed you straight to the venue where the competitions were being held.

The whole affair was rather dull, at least for you, as he waited in line forever to get forms to fill out, went back in line to hand in the form and get a numbered sticker to slap on his shirt, practiced for a couple hours while you scrolled aimlessly through Twitter, sat through about twenty other dancers before he even went on, and by the time he did it was the sheer power of your horniness that kept your eyes open and focused on him.

There was something magical and extra-seductive about seeing him dance in person. His videos were good, but the flat angle couldn’t really compare to the rolls and turns playing out in three glorious dimensions. It was pure luck that had you swallowing your last gulp of water before he dropped onto his back and thrusted up into the air twice in time to the music. You were certain that if there was anything in your mouth other than your own tongue, you would’ve choked on it at the sight.

Jimin placed third, which, while still an impressive achievement, your vagina found incredibly ridiculous. You drove him, gleaming with sweat and grinning his head off, to the hotel, but he insisted on going in to reception himself.

You acquiesced and waited in the parking lot until he returned.

“So crazy,” he proclaimed, “there’s only one room left, and it’s only got one bed!”

You take a couple seconds to make a show of silently looking around the deserted carpark.

He smacks his lips and laughs a little. “Anyway, let’s go on in.”

The hotel room is nice, but it’s beyond cramped, and you wince as you see the single bed pushed up against the wall. “I’m not doing this,” you say to him as he unloads his suitcases.

“Doing what?”

“I’m not going to do the whole ‘oh, what a shame, we’re stuck in the same bed, let’s have sex’ cliché. It’s unsexy and overused. Work harder, Park Jimin.”

He pauses for a moment, hovering by the foot of the bed. “The lady doesn’t like clichés.”

“No,” you reply flatly.

He sighs but continues setting up the room. Once he’s done, he wipes his palms on his jeans and turns to you with a fresh smile. “Want to go for a dip in the pool?”

You glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Almost eight in the evening. “Can we get something to eat first?”

He shrugs. “The restaurant is buffet-style.”

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

As you had insisted, the two of you didn’t do the hotel room sex cliché that night. You top-and-tailed, one pillow each, and tried to avoid kicking each other in the face.

Both of you were early risers since you hadn’t actually slept during the night in a long time. Jimin took an early morning swim; you, who hadn’t thought to bring a swimsuit, lounged on the warm concrete, swirling your toes across the surface. As much as Jimin insisted pool-sex was definitely sexy and definitely not a cliché, you didn’t fuck then, either, and while keeping your dignity was morally admirable, your metaphorical blue balls made you irritable on the drive home.

Jimin can feel the tension but does nothing to stop it. In fact, you can tell that him offering to drive is just so that you can stare at him more. He fiddles with the rings on his fingers, stretches his neck so you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and clenches the steering wheel so that his biceps flex.

He knows exactly what to do to ramp up your sexual frustration, and he laughs every time you wriggle around in your seat, helpless to do anything about it. Now that you’ve left the privacy of a hotel room, you’ll just have to sit and wait.

You gaze forlornly out the window in a last-ditch attempt to not get too riled up, but a sign that flashes past causes you to gasp.

Jimin glances at you, eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

“Gas station 1km away. Can we pull over?”

“Do you need to pee?”

“Don’t start playing coy now, Park Jimin. I need to fuck you or I’m going to go insane.”

He chokes, murmuring a low ‘fuck, finally’ under his breath before pulling into the gas station as it approaches.

The station itself, much to your dismay, is packed with cars filling up before they head to work for the morning. Instead of parking up front, however, Jimin pulls around behind the building to where the crusty old bathroom is.

It’s pretty out of view, and clearly not in high demand, but you whine at the thought of sharing bodily fluids while in that scummy concrete block.

Jimin hears you and tuts. “Should’ve let me fuck you in the hotel room. Or in the pool.”

The moment the car is in park you jump out and follow him into the bathroom, too aroused to care about anyone seeing you go in together.

The door locks behind the two of you and you whine again. The floors are filthy, and the sink has a concerning green sludge running down the side. “Good luck showing me something new in this hellhole.” You grab the ends of your shirt and lift it over your head.

He grins but doesn’t hesitate before skipping straight to unbuttoning his jeans and tugging the zip down. “It leaves me room for improvement for next time,” he reasons, “now take your pants off.”

You’re too startled at his urgency to protest, and once you get the ends past your sneakers, your jeans are crumpled up on the floor beside your shirt before you know it.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Panties.”

You huff a little, sad that he didn’t once comment on the racy black number before telling you to take it off. A little slower, you slip off your panties and take a little extra care to make sure they don’t touch the slightly damp floor and rest on top of your other clothes instead. While you’re at it, you unclip your bra and do the same.

You stand before him in nothing but your shoes, and Jimin, still fully dressed, looks you over, running his gaze over every inch of skin.

You impatiently strut up to him and push at his chest until he allows you to walk him back against the wall.

His eyes haven’t left your body, but when his back hits the concrete he sighs out contentedly. A hand snakes around you, resting on your lower back and pulling you flush against him. The cold metal sends shivers up your spine and your fingers curl up around handfuls of his shirt.

His other hand reaches down to latch on firmly to your ass, and he cranes down to nuzzle into your neck, causing another wave of violent shudders to wrack your body.

While it’s a relatively sunny day, this bathroom block is in shadow behind the main station, and it’s too cold to be naked and not doing anything. You wriggle in his grasp, brushing your chest against the fabric between you until your nipples harden into peaks, more and more sensitive as they stiffen.

“God,” he whispers into your neck, so close that his lips brush against your skin, “I can’t fucking believe you didn’t let me do this in the hotel room.”

You laugh, but it’s more breath than sound, and the only heat that remains is the one blazing between your thighs. “Stop making excuses and just fuck me already. I’m starting to get a little concerned that the whole slutty bellboy thing is overcompensat-”

He doesn’t let you finish your thought, using the hand on your ass to lift you up onto him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, but you don’t have time to process anything before he’s rolling his crotch up into yours in one smooth motion, the coarse fabric of his jeans catching on your swollen clit. “Ah!” Before you can think of muffling the sound, you’re crying out and jerking your hips inwards.

The arm behind your back is the only thing holding you up, and his other hand is clutching firmly onto your ass, so Jimin tips his head down, staring at his crotch before glancing back up with you, pupils blown with lust. “Care to do the honors, baby?”

You acquiesce, reaching down between you two to dip a hand underneath his jeans, bypassing his underwear completely and lifting his heavy cock out of his pants. It’s pretty average in terms of length, but the girth more than makes up for it. Fuck, you want it inside you.

“You know,” you state conversationally, although your voice can’t be much louder than a whisper, “the baby nickname is getting a little old.” You rub the palm of your hand roughly down the underside of his dick, batting your eyes innocently as he curses and chases your touch with his hips. “Maybe you could call me something a little hotter.”

He hums in satisfaction when you spit into your hand and begin to steadily pump him, mouth hanging slightly open in a sinful pout. His lips quirk up into a lazy smile. “Yeah? Would you like it if I called you a slut? A dirty whore that will fuck any of her coworkers if they ask nice enough? I’m sure a chef has talented hands, but you can’t beat a dancer’s hips.”

He lifts you up a little more and begins rutting the side of his cock against your slick lips, but your head tilts back and eyes fall shut at the thought of Jin using his gifted fingers to get you off. He probably had an amazing palate, too. You wonder if he’d like the taste of your-

“Fuck, you are a little slut, thinking about someone else when I’m right fucking here.”

You sigh dreamily and tip your head back down to him, trying to school your expression into something that resembled disappointment. “If I were you, I’d take that as a sign that I wasn’t doing a very good job.”

His eyes darken and the arm around your back slides down to your ass to join the other. You wobble, almost falling backwards before you link your hands around the back of his neck and stare at him in disbelief. You feel him shifting his stance a little below you before his mouth stretches wide in a devious grin. “I’m going to make you wish you never said that.”

Your eyes widen and you throw your head into his neck for more stability a second before he lifts your hips clean off of him, takes a moment to line up, and drops you down onto his cock without mercy.

It doesn’t go deep enough to hit your cervix, but the delicious stretch rips a guttural moan from the back of your throat, and you arch your back, to feel him move inside you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asks in a gravelly tone. “You like my cock buried inside your tight cunt?” The image of Jimin in his bellboy uniform, teasing you and flirting playfully feels like a world away from this Jimin, balls deep inside you, whispering the filthiest things inside your ear. “I’m feeling extra generous today, so you’re going to be a good little girl for me and take everything I have to give you, won’t you?”

You hum contentedly, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing up against your g-spot when you tilt your hips just right. Jimin growls, and that’s your only warning before he pulls a hand around to your front and flicks your clit painfully. You cry out, foot shooting out and banging against the wall as you’re hit with the sudden burst of sensation.

“Won’t you?” he asks again in a low tone, giving the raw bud a serious of lighter flicks, enjoying watching your muscles dance at each one.

You whine desperately. “God, yes, I will! Just fuck me, please Jimin!”

He slowly pulls himself out, until only the head remains tucked inside, enjoying the feeling of you clenching desperately around him then snaps his hips, plunging into you yet again and setting a brutal pace. Your fingers curl even tighter into his shirt, knuckles going white, and the grip your legs have around his waist loosen as he drills into you.

Each thrust up into you hits a different place inside you, and you moan in rhythm with his relentless pace, breaking off into a whimper whenever he drags against your g-spot.

As he moves, you feel yourself clenching down on him every time he pulls out, and soon enough he’s panting. “Fuck, baby girl, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“That’s, ah fuck, that’s not my problem,” you chime, feeling the momentum of pleasure building in your abdomen. Leaning so you’re fully stable against his chest, you reach down a hand and begin massaging your clit desperately, trying to propel yourself over the edge.

He replies in staccato, spitting out a word or two with every thrust. “You’re such a little brat,” he says, bending his knees a little so that he can hold you steady and just fuck up into you.

The increase in tempo, paired with an angle that rubs against your top wall deliciously, is too much for you, and your legs shake wildly as you move the fingers on your clit at a frenzied pace and fall apart in his arms, coming with a long, drawn-out cry.

He rides it out with you, but once you stop shuddering and your vision clears, he pulls out and lets you back down onto the floor gently.

Even after the satisfaction of an orgasm, you still feel a thrumming in your pussy that isn’t helped by the emptiness left behind, but Jimin’s much more desperate than you, running a shaky hand through his hair, head tipped back onto the wall, the other hand jacking off as fast as he can manage.

The sound of your slick as he moves is increased tenfold now that it’s not being muffled by your pussy, and you fix your shirt on the floor in front of him and fall to your knees.

He opens his eyes blearily when you push his hand away but breathes out a high-pitched whine when you take him in your mouth.

You often found guys to taste so much better when they were covered in your arousal, and it meant there was no risk of him cumming inside you, so you were happy to hollow out your cheeks and suck Jimin off, playing gently with his balls as you did just to hear him whine again.

Gone was the alpha male who took what he wanted. The Park Jimin gazing down at you with an open mouth was completely different; soft and needy, and letting out the most beautiful noises.

One of his hands fell to your hair, but instead of holding on so that he could control the blowjob, he brushed your hair away from your face so he could see you better and rested it on your cheek.

The intimate move triggered a warmth in you of a different kind that before, but you put all your focus into chasing his orgasm, using the flat of your tongue to provide some texture. It only took a few moments before the pace of his whimpers sped up. “Ah, ah, please, oh, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Hot bursts flooded your mouth and ran down your throat. You swallowed around him one last time before pulling off and looking up at him.

He panted for a few seconds, thumb stroking your cheekbone, before he gave you a lazy smile. “It’s fifteen cents off a liter out there, I don’t suppose you need petrol?”

TAGLIST (message me or send an ask if you want to be included in the taglist).

@xxqueenwxtchxx

@fandomarchive00

@cvbachacbitch

@echimozart

#im going to burn in hell #please tell me if i did an okay job with the smut my cheeks have been red for three hours #bts au #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #enjoy your stay

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shadow-djinni · 4 years

Text

Generalizations in Fandom

Or, some idiot on my dash made an underinformed comment about shipping trends and now I have to go prove them wrong.

I’m a day late with my griping, but much better-researched for it, which means this post (under the cut) is going to be even longer now. Apologies in advance. If you’d like to read my exceedingly long-winded griping, hit the readmore button.

A quick preface–and some background–to my complaining, which will be important going forward. Though I’m by no means a fandom old, nor am I claiming that status, I’ve been in and around fandom for over eight years now, and have been an active content creator for seven and a half. In that timeframe, I’ve been in and out of a wide range of fandoms, all with different fannish climates and behaviors, so I like to think I have a fair bit of experience in these spaces.

So, yesterday, a blog I had been following–which, up until this point, had expressed views on fandom I generally agreed with–made a post complaining about the proliferation of slash fic in fandom. I’m not going to link the post or @ the blogger in question, mostly because I have no intentions of picking a fight with said blogger or with their fans, as I understand they have a relatively large following, but the post was something to the effect of “fandoms always lionize overwhelmingly white noncanon m/m ships at the expense of women and POC”. Now, at a glance, that looks…correct, right? At least considering the fandoms you usually see on Tumblr. But that statement looks…really off to me, given my own lived experience, and the longer I looked the more off it looked, and the more complaints I had with it.

The first problem with this statement, and others like it: there is no such thing as a pan-fandom issue. Statements like these posit that all fandoms, regardless of the source material, always have or develop the issue the poster sees and wishes to discuss. It’s a good way to get attention, but it lacks the nuance to really support itself under scrutiny. The truth of the matter is that the source material a fandom draws for has influence over the sort of fans who are drawn to it and the material they have to work with, which therefore effects the trends in tropes and shipping the fandom in question develops–and while broad similarities may be drawn across multiple fandoms with similar elements to them, no two fandoms develop alike, an effect which is compounded by differences in age, genre, and location of origin of the source material.

For a personal example, I’ve been active in four fandoms I would consider strongly influential in terms of my taste in fiction and my writing ability and style. Without getting overly specific, those fandoms are:

a video game franchise begun in the 80s, which has seen new installments released every 5-10 years

a magical girl manga (and later anime) produced in the early ‘00s, which has not seen new canon since

a popular and ongoing live action American movie series, which began release within the last decade

and, for good or ill, Voltron (an animated cartoon released in summer ‘16, which ran through December ‘18 with an utter shitstorm of a fandom)

If we believe statements such as the one above, one would expect that all four of those fandoms would have exactly the same inter-fandom issues, namely the sidelining of women and characters of color in favor of the white slash pairing of the day–but, having been in these fandoms, that’s true for exactly one of them. I’d give you all three guesses, but let’s face it, the answer is obvious.

It’s the live action American movie series.

In fact, the initial statement is fairly accurate when assessing that work, and other live action American movie series and television shows, and there’s a number of reasons why. American live action media often gives disproportionate representation to white men, particularly when it comes to lead roles, while consigning women and POC to supporting roles. As such, the (white, male) leads garner more development than the support roles, which makes the leads easier and more appealing for fic writers and shippers to work with. Media with black leads, or other leads of color, also often have smaller fandoms overall, and as such don’t make the big, obvious waves large-scale fandoms like…say, Harry Potter or the MCU make on Tumblr.

Canonical (female) love interests are also often sidelined by live action media fandoms, for a number of reasons–namely, in canon they are often granted less screentime, less depth, and less subjectivity than their male castmates, and are frequently treated as objects by the camera. This makes it harder to empathize with them, especially given fandom is majority women who may be rendered too uncomfortable to work with the characters–there’s a good deal of baked-in misogyny that would need to be untangled from the character herself, and in most cases only the most committed of fans are actually going to sit down to do the work.

Now, mind you, these do not apply to all fandoms. Voltron had some of the same problems with sidelining canonical love interests–but Voltron’s fandom flagships gag were between a half-human character of indeterminate ethnicity and two men of color, one of whom is canonically queer. The magical girl manga fandom I mentioned above, ironically enough, has issues with sidelining a subtextually canonical f/f ship in favor of splitting the pair to put them in het ships. And the video game fandom used to have issues with slash shippers in what was a majority het fandom, and still has lingering issues with slash depending on which corners of fandom you frequent.

And yet, if I were to say “fandom has a problem with ignoring canonical queer subtext” or “fandom has a problem with inordinate aggression towards slash ships”, can you imagine the sort of ridicule I would face? Most people discussing social issues in fannish contexts would look at me as though I’d sprouted a second head, when those issues are in fact present and in need of discussion–just not in the large, obvious fandoms in the Tumblrsphere, which seem to be the only fandoms these people consider deserving of discussion.

My second point can be summed up in a single sentence: it is not the responsibility of fandom to correct the issues present in the source canon.

No canon is perfect. Creators are human, and flawed, and they will inevitably fuck up no matter how well they generally handle things. And while those fuckups do impact the way the fandom creates (see my first point), fandom does not have a duty to fix those fuckups. Fandom is not, and should not be, an activist space–it’s a creative space foremost, and it’s full of people with all sorts of baggage they pack in with them. It’s unfair, and arguably cruel, to force people to engage with aspects of canon they find squicky, or even triggering, to ‘correct’ flaws in canon that your “activism” takes issue with. (note: the link in the paragraph preceding this is mostly talking about shipping activism and while it makes some points about slash I disagree with, it makes plenty of good points about other sorts of fannish activism and the way fans who take their activism too far impact other fans and people unfamiliar with the source media)

And, additionally: unless you’re paying them, fan creators don’t owe you content. Yes, even if they primarily create for that dreaded noncanon m/m ship and you’d rather they make content for your favored f/f ship. Yes, even if your favored ship is actually canon, because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with shipping noncanon ships rather than canon ones–if I kept that mentality I wouldn’t create at all. If you want content, you have to make it yourself, or commission it.

And, my final point: if you don’t enjoy things certain fandoms are doing, learn to use your blacklist and filters.

If, like the op of the post I’m complaining about, you’re tired of the proliferation of slash ships you have ideological disagreements with, blacklist them and the fandoms that produce them! If there are particular common aus in a fandom you hate, figure out the tags and filter those! Particular ‘hot takes’ you’re sick of seeing? Seas of endless shitposts that make you roll your eyes? One particular writer who does a ship you otherwise enjoy in a notably squicky way? Blacklist, filter, and block.

Because I guarantee you, no matter how many angry posts you make about people making content you personally dislike, you won’t make anyone stop producing it.

And you might even piss some of them off.

Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have a non-canon slash fic to work on.

#fannish salt #salt #this is absolutely not something i usually do and i don't intend to repeat the performance #but i was so pissed off yesterday i was literally seeing red #like!!! gods!!!!!!#just because mainstream live action american media franchises dominate tumblr #that doesnt mean issues those fandoms have are applicable to every other fandom everywhere!!!#and if you insist they are youre a fucking idiot and i wont apologise for saying it #like its beyond reductive to pretend theyre universally applicable #and frankly by assuming that worldview you miss a lot of issues actually present in the media in question #like the structural issues in vlds narrative that thoroughly borked their second and third arcs #and caused the surface issues that so much of the fandom fusses about rather than looking a little deeper for the common threads #but thats another post for another day

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maximumphilosopheranchor · 5 years

Text

“Historians have been less interested in interpreting Essex’s side of the relationship. It has generally been assumed that his motivations was financial and political gain: that his romantic addresses to the Queen were consciously and deliberately designed to persuade her into granting him favours. More recently, Paul Hammer has carried out a more sensitive analysis of the relationship, balancing Essex’s occasional frustrated outbursts with the acknowledgement that ‘there was undoubtedly a strong vein of respect and affection in his praise for Elizabeth’. While this study will not disagree with much of Hammer’s reading of the relationship between and Elizabeth and Essex, Essex’s public relationship with the Queen as councillor and soldier needs to be realigned with his more personal role as favourite and courtier. (..)

More importantly, the letters [Essex’s letters to Elizabeth] tell us why Essex wished to serve Elizabeth. Of course he did so because he wished to advance his political and military ambitions, and because it was a financial necessity for him to remain in the Queen’s favour. But there was more than this to it. Essex served the Queen because he believed that it was his duty to do so – his letters constantly reiterate the values of duty, service and loyalty that tied his to Elizabeth’s service. He signs his letters, variously, ‘your Majesties most humble servant’; ‘your Majesties humblest, faythfulest and most devoted servant’; ‘your Majesties most humble, faythfullest and most affectionate servant’ and ‘your Majesties humblest vassall’. In 1597, he wrote that ‘For whatt soever I cold be able to do as your Majesties servant subject creture and humble vassall I did owe yt and a greatt deale more’. It was a very specific choice of terminology, perfectly expressing the relationship between subject and sovereign, and stating the duty of service owed by Essex to the Queen

The relationship was strengthened by the granting favours in reward for service; in 1597, Essex wrote of the Queen’s recent benevolence that ‘these high and precious favors I say … tye me to … infinite duty’. But the bond could not be broken by the cessation of favours. After the withdrawal of all royal favour, at the beginnings of his final disgrace in February 1600, Essex wrote to the Queen, vowing that ‘whatsoever your Majesty resolves to do with me, I shall live and die your humble vassal’. This consistent loyalty was an essential part of Essex’s own self-image, his sense of identity. They also fitted perfectly into the patterns of courtly love discourse that had been established by Ralegh, Hatton and others, and also reflected the behaviour adopted by Robert Cecil at precisely the same time as Essex. Just as Ralegh and Hatton had before him, Essex conceptualized his relationship with the Queen as a mingling of that of a subject to his monarch and a lover to his mistress. (..)

Throughout, Essex’s letters referred to his constancy, devotion, faith and love for the Queen. In c. 1591 he declared of his love to the Queen that ‘my lyfe shallbe a continuall perfourmaunce, and my death whensoever yt comes a seale’. He consciously contrasted the constancy of his service to the Queen’s unkindness, part of the standard literary complaint of a young lover to his cruel mistress. In 1591 he wrote that ‘no unkindnes from you though yt breake my hart can diminish my affection. butt I will end my life complayning of your injustice and approvinge mine owne constancy’.

It was not just to Elizabeth that Essex expressed these sentiments. In December 1591, on finding that the Queen planned to block his appointment to the chancellorship of the University of Oxford, he wrote to Robert Cecil that this news, coming in addition to the impending failure of the Rouen expedition:

made me say I had lived too longe too be so dealt withall by her I held so deere… If I dy pity me nott for I shall dy with more pleasure then I live with. If I escape comfort me nott for the queens wrong and her unkindness is too greatt.’ (..)

During the first part of Essex’s career, such comments harmlessly engaged with Elizabeth’s own adoption of the role of constant lover to her subjects, reflecting the sentiments expressed in her motto, semper eadem (always the same). But, by the end of his career, this literary and artistic conceit had turned in Essex’s mind into a driving force in his relationship with his mistress: her inconstancy contrasted with his own fixed devotion and his determination to do her service until death should prevent him.

Essex emphasized the singularity of his devotion to the Queen, and clearly expected her to reciprocate. (..) As his relationship with Elizabeth deteriorated, however, Essex’s early mode of approach to the Queen, founded on the conventions of a lover for his mistress, translated into a way of criticizing the Queen, as he contrasted his own constancy of devotion with what he presented as Elizabeth’s injustice. (..)

For Essex to so openly – and repeatedly – suggest that the Queen’s justice was faulty and yet still to retain his place in the royal favour points to a remarkably close – and forgiving - relationship. But Elizabeth’s leniency was not to last forever; through 1598, the tone of Essex’s letters to the Queen degenerated as she began to withdraw from him and to object to his arrogant criticisms of her behaviour. Essex, on the other hand, continued to cast their relationship in terms of a rejected lover and his cruel, unjust mistress. In January 1599, preparing to leave for Ireland, Essex wrote to Fulke Greville

That… the Queen having destined me to the hardest task that ever any gentleman was sent about, she hath yet [thought ?] to ease her rebels in Ireland of some labour by breaking my heart [with her hardness?]. When my soul shall be freed from this [prison] of my body, [she] will then see her wrong to me and her wound given to herself.

When one considers that Essex was, at this time, at the head of the Queen’s army, sent to put down a major rebellion headed by a dangerous traitor, it is a remarkable testimony to the power of the language of courtly love – and its significance to Essex – that he continued to present his relationship with the Queen in these terms. It is also clear that, by this point, any playfulness in the rhetoric of reproachful complaint had been lost. But how had the relationship reached this stage?

The deterioration in relations between Essex and the Queen was not a sudden development. Indeed it is possible to see the tensions that were to lead to Essex’s fall as early as 1591, when Essex wrote a lengthy and distinctly aggrieved response to ‘your Majesties unkind letter’, presenting a point-by- point response to her criticisms of his conduct in France. Simon Adams has written that the trouble with Essex in the 1590s stemmed from ‘Elizabeth’s failure to make clear to him the limits of her tolerance’. From his written rebukes to the Queen, it is entirely possible to see how Essex came to believe that he was allowed to address the Queen in this way, to refuse to accept her criticisms and to assert his right to defend his own actions. This was all very well as a novelty, but as Essex took on more and more responsibilities at the court and in Elizabeth’s government, it became less and less acceptable to the Queen. What needed to happen was for Essex to change, to mature into his role as a leading politician and counsellor, and quite simply this did not happen. (..)

When Essex criticized and challenged her decisions he crossed the boundary between his literary relationship with his mistress and his political relationship with the Queen – an essential distinction that he failed to maintain, but from which he could not escape. It was only in Essex’s ‘imagination’ that he would overcome the Queen’s resisting will. In reality, the relationship was becoming increasingly difficult. (..)

As time went on, and tensions increased, Elizabeth increasingly failed to play out her part in their love relationship, unwilling to admit Essex to his favoured place at her side. The final stages of Essex’s career were characterized by Elizabeth’s unresponsiveness and her refusal to enact her role as the object of his devotion.

There is a sense in which the incident in the presence chamber in late June/early July 1598 was the concluding act in their relationship. Essex was able, though, to return to the Queen’s service as she needed him to lead her army in Ireland. It was the failure of that mission and Essex’s precipitate return to court, surprising the Queen in her state of undress, in September 1599 that brought an end to his relationship with the Queen:

Upon Michelmas Eve, about 10 a clock in the morning, my Lord of Essex lighted at Court Gate in post, and made all hast up to the presence, and soe to the Privy Chamber, and staied not till he came to the Queen’s bed chamber, where he found the Queen newly up, the heare about her face; he kneeled unto her, kissed her handed, and her faire neck, and had some privat speech with her.

The incident shocked everybody; Rowland Whyte wrote from court ‘Tis much wondred at here, that he went so boldly to her Majesties’ presence, she not being ready and he soe full of dirt and mire.’ But the greatest impact was on Essex himself. Elizabeth granted him a second audience on that day, at which, Whyte reported, ‘all was well and her usage very gracious towards hym’. But later the same day, as the magnitude of Essex’s conduct – and her understanding of his dismal failure in Ireland – sank in, the Queen’s mood changed. She summoned Essex for a third meeting, where she ‘began to call hym to question for his return, and was not satisfied in the manner of his coming away’. This was the last time that Essex was admitted to her presence.”

Janet Dickinson, Court Politics and the Earl of Essex, 1589–1601

Oh God, Essex was so obsessed with the courtly love concept that he completely lost the sense of reality around him.

#Janet Dickinson #non-fiction #Robert Devereux #Earl of Essex #Elizabeth I #courtly love #sorry for the load of text #but this is such a great book

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trade-baby-blues · 6 years

Text

The Birds and the Bees

Pairing: Jim x Reader

Word Count: 2661

Warnings: angst, jokes, animal injury, Jim injury

A/N: This was a request by @thefabulousgosling! Hopefully I did it justice. I was fighting through a serious case of writer’s block trying to write this lol. Also “Kovas” is the Baltic god of war, which I thought was a funny name for the bird! I only did a brief reread so if there’s any mistakes please feel free to point them out and I’ll fix them!!

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” The ensign in front of you flinched away from your voice, rising like the red in your cheeks as you puffed yourself up. “This is an entirely unknown species - an avian species, no less - and your first instinct is to shoot it?! Why don't you give me that blaster and we’ll see how you like being shot you piece of-

“Woah, woah slow down,” Jim said with a chuckle, grabbing your hands before you could lunge for the ensign’s blaster. “It's just a bird.”

You snatched your hands back. “Just a...just a bird? We’re the ones invading its territory. Ensign Jessup had no right to shoot it. Just a bird. God that's like saying my bed is just a bed.”

“Okay, I get it I’m sorry, but what do you want me to do? It's against policy to bring unknown creatures onto the ship.”

“It's also against policy to bang your lead zoologist and yet here we are.”

Jim blinked quickly, trying to come up with an adequate argument, but gave up almost as soon as he’d started. Whatever trouble he’d get in for bringing the bird on board was nothing compared to the trouble you’d give him. He raised his hands up in surrender: “Fine, but the bird is your responsibility. If it gets out or mauls an ensign it’s on you.”

“My hero,” you said sarcastically before grabbing your backpack. You dumped the contents on the ground, hoping it would work as a makeshift carrier for the time being.

The bird squawked in fear as you approached, attempting to fly away. It lifted itself an inch off the ground before tumbling back down, scattering iridescent blue feathers and green blood across the ground. You took the opportunity to throw the bag over it and scoop it up, zipping the bag shut. The bird struggled in the bag as you shouted for Scotty to beam you back up.

After much coaxing, you convinced the bird to come out of the backpack in your office. Jim had brought a few pieces of fauna from the planet in hopes he’d win back some of your favor and even agreed to postpone leaving a few days so the “botanists can continue studying the planet’s surface.” At least that's what he’d said. You knew he was trying to give you time to patch up the bird.

Kovas, as you’d taken to calling him, healed like a champ. He healed nearly three times as fast as birds on earth and, with the added help of the osteo and dermal regenerators, Kovas was happily walking around your lab. His wing wasn’t healed enough for sustained flight, but he managed to flap them around enough to make a mess of your lab. While you thought it was cute, your coworkers disagreed, counting down the minutes until Jim asked you to let the bird go.

With a heavy heart and much arguing, you finally agreed, beaming down to the planet with Kovas perched on your shoulder, nibbling on your hair. You kissed the top of his head. His feathers felt coarse and firm. Almost like catfish spines. He nuzzled his beak against the underside of your chin and you felt a pang of grief as you raised your other arm for him to hop onto. Kovas did happily, allowing you to set him back onto the ground.

“Be good out there, Kovas, okay?” He tilted his head at your voice. You cleared your throat as you stood, trying to ease the tightness growing there. It was stupid to get so worked up over a bird you’d only known a couple days and yet still knew next to nothing about, but here you were.

Jim sensed your distress and took a step towards you, brushing his fingers against yours. You smiled weakly at him and nodded. Your sign that you were ready to go before you changed your mind. Jim made the call to Scotty and you felt the all too familiar sensation of the transporter picking you up. You waved one last time at Kovas.

As the gold light wrapped around you, you heard a terrible sound. Harsh and grating and filled with sadness. It morphed as you listened, twisting into what almost sounded like the word “No.” Then you felt a sharp impact to your chest, sending you staggering back as your feet finally touched back down on the Enterprise. Your arms went up instinctively, cradling your chest and the weight against it. Kovas stretched his beak up against your chin again, spreading his good wing out around your arm.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jim said.

After attempting to let Kovas loose on the planet surface three more times (including once when Jim went by himself and came back with his hair ruffled, shirt in tatters, and Kovas clinging to his arm like a bat) Jim finally agreed to let him stay on the ship for “scientific study.” You and Kovas hardly left the lab after that, eager to learn everything you could about each other.

The first thing you noticed was his diet. Kovas was mostly carnivorous, preferring to nibble at pieces of chicken or fish than the oats and seeds you’d offered him. Another interesting discovery about his eating practices was his beak. Initially it seemed to be very similar to a cockatoo’s beak, but as soon as Kovas ate you saw it was also hinged in the middle of the bottom jaw, allowing him to open his mouth in three parts. Needless to say, you nearly fell out of your chair the first time you’d seen it.

The second thing you noticed was that he seemed to be nocturnal. It was a difficult transition at first. The days on Kovas’s home planet were longer than days on the Enterprise, but you did your best to help him adjust, spending most of your nights with Kovas in the lab to ensure he settled in. It was during one of these sleepovers that Kovas finally spoke. Well, kind of spoke. It sounded more like a child learning a new word, but it excited you all the same.

Kovas’s vocabulary quickly grew from a few single syllable words into patchwork sentences. He was even able to call your name when he wanted attention. You encouraged him excitedly, pushing his vocabulary and his motor skills. He could open boxes and play with toys - his favorite was a stuffed mouse on a string.

“He’s so amazing,” you explained to Jim over breakfast. “Every day I learn something new about him. God I can’t wait to see how he reacts to birds on Earth. They look the same physically - I mean, Kovas is much bigger obviously - but they’ve got some really similar mannerisms and-” Jim cut you off by standing up abruptly and skulking out of the mess hall. You stared after him, words still hanging off your tongue, and looked at Bones for an explanation. He shrugged and dove back into his breakfast.

You were in your lab with Kovas going through some flight exercises to help his wing heal when the door opened behind you. Jim hovered there, more unsure of himself than you’d seen him in awhile. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his uniform shirt as he stepped in and focused his gaze on Kovas instead of you.

“Hey, babe,” you said as you stood from your chair, pressing a kiss to Jim’s cheek. He tensed lightly under your touch and you pulled away worried. “What’s wrong?” You tried to run your hand through Jim’s hair the way you knew he liked, but he took a step back from you. Your heart sunk.

“I haven’t seen you in days.” His voice was barely a whisper, eyes still focused on Kovas as if Jim didn’t want him to hear.

You laughed. “What are you talking about? We saw each other at breakfast.”

“And all you did was talk about this stupid bird.”

“He’s not stupid,” you snapped back. “Kovas is surprisingly intelligent and has shown an aptitude for-”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Jim interrupted again. “We never see each other anymore and when we do you’re always going on about this bird. I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad you’re advancing your career, but I miss you.”

“I’m right here, Jim.”

“But you’re not.” Jim turned away from you, running his hands through his hair. “You know it was our anniversary yesterday? I cooked dinner.” You sighed, checking your watch to confirm the date. It couldn’t have possibly been your anniversary already. That was supposed to be weeks away.

“James...I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just….I just lost track of time. I-I had a gift for you and everything. It was gonna be so romantic. God, I’m such a mess.” You ran your hands down your face, noticing for the first time how tired you felt. You could remember the last time you’d slept a full night period, let alone a full night in a bed.

“I have a gift for you, too.” Jim looked down as he fished around the pockets of his uniform pants. Whatever he pulled out, he kept closed tightly in a fist as he looked back up at you. “Our feathery friend aside, these past couple years have been the happiest of my life. I’ve been trying to come up with ways to show you how thankful I am, but I couldn’t get Bones to agree to starting a flash mob on one of the observation decks, so hopefully this will do.” Jim cleared his throat to keep his voice from shaking and slowly sank to the ground. Your heart leapt to your throat. “I thought exploring space was the greatest adventure, but it’s nothing compared to loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up with you and having water balloon fights in the hallways and giving Bones’ gray hairs. You with me?” Jim opened his hand to reveal a ring that glittered under the fluorescent lab lights, and you couldn’t help but let out a squeal of excitement.

Nothing about this moment was how you’d pictured it. You thought Jim would propose over dinner. That you’d be in something nicer than a pair of old scrubs and a lab coat. He’d get down on one knee looking up at you with the same lopsided grin you fell in love with. Then, he’d stand and you’d pour all your love into that next kiss to let him know you felt it too. That he was safe with you and you were safe with him. You certainly didn’t expect to hear Kovas screeching as he lunged at Jim.

“Baby,” Kovas yelled, talons out, already tearing at Jim’s yellow shirt. “Don’t hurt my baby girl.” You sprang into action. Jim was on the ground, covering his head with his hands as Kovas snapped and tore at skin and clothing alike.

You sprang into action and pulled Kovas off Jim as quickly as you could. He flapped against your clutches, eager to sink teeth and talons back into Jim as he chanted “jealous Jim” in something eerily similar to your own voice. You hissed at him to stop but he continued taunting Jim like a child on the playground.

“Get to Medbay,” you implored Jim. “I’ll join you in a second.” Jim slinked out the door, eyes never leaving Kovas. As soon as the doors to your lab slid closed, you let him go. Kovas danced around the floor chirping happily.

“Man who hurt you is gone. You're safe now.”

You crossed your arms and squeezed your eyes shut, reminding yourself that, despite his superior intelligence, Kovas was still just a bird - a young one at that. “Jim was not hurting me.” You said it as simply as you could to avoid any confusion.

“No,” Kovas responded shrilly. “Jim always want to take you away. Jim make you yell. Jealous Jim.”

“Jim doesn't want to hurt me,” you said, kneeling on the floor in front of Kovas. He was so big know you could almost meet his eyes at this height. “Jim wants to take care of me like I took care of you.”

Kovas cocked his head to the side, puzzled. “But who takes care of Kovas?”

You reached a hand out to stroke his cheek and he pushed his face against your hand, chirping happily. “You can take care of yourself. You're old enough. Don't you miss being around others like you? Your family?”

“You are family.”

“Jim is family,” you countered softly. Kovas looked away from you and hung his head, suddenly interested in preening the feathers on his wing. He seemed to understand the error in his thinking now.

“Kovas is sorry. Sorry to Jim.”

“Do you want to tell him?” Kovas bobbed his head eagerly and you couldn't help but smile, letting him jump on your shoulder even though he was getting too big for it.

Jim’s heart rate spiked on the biobed as you and Kovas entered. You’d only seen this kind of fear in his eyes a few times and never expected you would have anything to do it. You felt a pang of guilt for bringing Kovas on board, following by an even greater pang of guilt for wishing you hadn't, especially when Kovas so clearly needed you. It was a difficult situation to be in, but it was clear you’d come to the climax: let Kovas go or lose Jim.

Thankfully, Kovas made it easy. He jumped from your shoulder onto Jim’s bed. His large wingspan made Bones recoil and Jim sink further into the bed. Kovas took a few steps forward, lowering his head and tucking his wings back.

“Kovas is sorry, Captain.” His voice was low and serious, hanging in the air with such sorrow that you wanted to take him in your arms again. “Kovas only wanted to protect, babygirl.”

“That’s not her name,” Jim snapped.

You stepped forward and put a hand on his forearm. “It's what you call me. He thinks it's my name.” Jim rolled his eyes. Kovas started his apologies again.

“Kovas knows Jim is a nice Captain. A good captain. He is smart, kind, and has a good ass.” His voice took on a lilt like yours again as he continued and you covered your face with your hands, ears turning red. “Jim will take care of baby girl for Kovas, and Kovas will return home.”

Jim eyed Kovas warily, finally relaxing. “Can't argue with that.”

And so you found yourself yet again on the surface of Kovas’s home planet, knees against the lush Earth and arms clutching the feathered body in front of you. You wanted to remember every aspect of him from the hard feel of his feathers to the faint metallic smell they gave off. Kovas nipped at your hair, wanting to remember as deeply.

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered. It took every ounce of your concentration to keep from crying.

Kovas bumped his beak against your nose but turned away when he heard a bird call like his own. He called out to match it, spreading his giant wings and taking off while leaving you kneeling in the dirt behind him. You watched Kovas disappear into the trees before you finally stood.

Jim stepped towards you, one arm in a sling and the other going around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and nuzzled his nose against your ear. “I'm sorry you had to let him go.”

You shrugged. “I’m not. He has is family. I have mine.” You looked to Jim and he smiled.

“Your fine ass family.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pushing him lightly.

“Ow,” Jim winced playfully, cradling his arm against his chest. You rolled your eyes. “What? You're not gonna kiss it better?”

Tags: @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @pabegay1 @brooke-taylor0323 @anotherotter @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski

#star trek imagine #jim kirk imagine #captain kirk imagine #jim kirk x reader #captain kirk x reader #my fics

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bigskydreaming · 6 years

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So there’s a post going around that’s popped up on my dash a lot lately, about the secret to fandom being love what you love and don’t worry about what anyone else is doing.

I.....look, its not really a shock to anyone that I Couldn’t Disagree More Strongly, right? LOL.

The problem I have with posts like that is they don’t make a distinction between “like what you like and don’t worry about if other people agree b/c everybody likes different things and there’s never going to be something that pleases everybody, so don’t try and base your fandom opinions/ships around pleasing everyone”

and

“like what you like and don’t worry about if other people agree b/c people are racist and sexist and homophobic and there’s nothing you can do about it so don’t devote your fandom experience/time/energy to having a problem if the reasons people are hating on your favorite characters, stories, opinions are rooted in racism, sexism, homophobia and other shit.”

Like, these are two ENTIRELY different things, and the first is valid and fine and I agree completely but the second is HELL FUCKING NO. And the problem is when you spread around fandom positivity posts that put no effort or awareness into acknowledging that these are two entirely different phenomenon, effectively all you do is give implicit support to the people who deliberately REFUSE to acknowledge a difference and thus point to fandom positivity posts as fodder for why someone’s being Difficult for pushing back against bigoted bullshit.

Fandom isn’t a fun, shiny happy place and it isn’t MEANT to be, because all fandom is....is another place/way in which humans congregate around a certain shared interest or focus. That’s it. That’s all fandom inherently is, which means when you push back against people ruining it by ‘worrying about what other ppl are doing in it aka being shitty bigots’ on the grounds that they’re infecting it with like....reality? idek. But you’re simply doing the exact same thing humanity does in EVERY SINGLE SPACE it carves out for people to congregate for whatever reason or purpose......and that thing is the group or groups who hold a majority in that space speaking over or shutting down anyone who has something to say that the majority do not want to hear for whatever reason.

People turn to fandom for escapism a lot of the time. I get that. Everyone needs escapism from reality. Everyone DESERVES a place to go to get away from the cares of reality and enjoy themselves.

But here’s the problem: there’s a lot of things in life that EVERYONE deserves, but only some people actually get.

And while I fundamentally agree with the idea that everyone deserves a fun fandom experience and a place to escape to.....it becomes a problem if the only way you can maintain that fun fandom experience and escapist refuge is by shutting down other people when they say ‘hey, this place isn’t as fun for me and all the problems I came here to escape from are still here thanks to these people.’

Because once you do that, you’re essentially no longer saying that you think everyone deserves a fun fandom experience or escape from reality. You’re saying you deserve it MORE than those other people.

Don’t get me wrong, I think we all need to figure out a balance for ourselves, and prioritize what’s best for our own mental health and emotional well being. I’m not telling people to develop martyr complexes or bullshit like that. We have to take care of ourselves before we take care of other people. That’s a thing. It’s true. We don’t do anyone any favors by neglecting what we need to get through the day. It’s OKAY to be selfish sometimes. It’s just not okay to be selfish all the time, or to say what you’re doing to put yourself first has no impact on anyone else.

Like, its literally just about being aware of reality?

I’m just saying, there’s a difference between focusing yourself on a corner of fandom that’s solely about the things you like and not worrying about what’s going on elsewhere because its what you need to do FOR YOU, because there’s things in your life you need escape from, because in this place you retreat to in order to replenish your spirit, you don’t have the spoons to spend on anything but that, so you have the strength to go about your day....

and between telling people to just like what they like and not worry what anyone else is doing or saying even when they pop up to give you shit for what you like, no, just blacklist things and block people and continue liking what you like, that’s the secret to a good fandom experience.

And that’s where I go like, ummm....no. Again, mental health and well being is a priority. Absolutely people should blacklist and block people and just look for positivity with like-minded individuals if that’s what they need to get something enjoyable out of a fandom experience.

But my problem specifically lies with the flip side of that, the implication that fans are doing something wrong by yes, worrying about what other people are doing and how this impacts them and their fandom experiences, and responding to and reacting to and calling attention to the fact that shitty people are being shitty in fandom, just as they are elsewhere in realms of human interaction.

Because that’s when you get into telling people with less power to suck it up and settle for the fact that they have less power, and that the people with more power will always be shitty so the best thing you can do for yourself is to find a way to ignore that.

That’s not how society is supposed to work, just because the people with the most power in society have spent generations just trying to convince everyone else that this is how society is supposed to work.

Power, voice, visibility, are not excuses to be shitty. The inability of people to effectively push back against you being shitty, is not an excuse to be shitty. This is how its always been, is not an excuse to be shitty.

And we know this. We ALL know and understand this. As a society, we have NO problem using collectively held opinions to push back against things we all agree are shitty, and no, I’m not talking about laws even, so much as....shame, the way we express opinions to each other and about certain things, the way we interact with each other and acknowledge what are and aren’t acceptable social behaviors.

Like, we shame people for committing certain awful crimes. We all do this. We say murdering innocent people is bad, and cast shame at people who do it. We teach kids (supposedly, hah) that taking stuff that doesn’t belong to you just because you want it isn’t acceptable. We all, as a society, shape what is or isn’t considered behavior we’re willing to put up with from each other in an endless variety of ways.

And guess what? Like all tools, the tools with which we do this do at times end up used in negative ways as well as positive. To harm instead of help. Absolutely there’s a LONG history of people in power hijacking the tools with which society determines what is and isn’t acceptable behavior and using it to advance their specific agenda, encouraging people to turn on each other or specific groups and express that certain acts or behaviors or entire identities are shameful, not because they actually are but because it serves the purposes of those in power to convince people that they are.

But a tool being used wrongly in the wrong hands does not like.....magically negate the validity of that tool or its ability to be used positively, and that’s where online culture, and fandom specifically, so often has me going UMM WHUH?

We’ve got people out here proudly and defiantly taking a stand against ‘being shamed’ for stuff like pedophilic works of art as though they’re the disenfranchised underdog, the powerless victim pushing back against the oppressor because SHAME IS BAD AND THUS ANYONE TRYING TO SHAME ME IS BAD or whatever.....as though we haven’t as a society collectively spent the last several decades saying umm yeah, pedophilia is shameful.

I’m not looking to get into the fiction vs reality argument here since I’ve had that one to death elsewhere, but also because its not the point. The point isn’t whether certain fans should feel ashamed or not for specific behaviors others express should be shameful.....the point is the way so many people in fandom seem to be in agreement that the very ACT of someone trying to shame someone else, or express disapproval of their behavior.....has somehow been come to be seen as a call to arms, as though that in and of itself is the issue, not whether or not there’s merit to either side’s position.

Like its all or nothing, regardless of context.

So many people in fandom are happy to act like other groups in fandom (USUALLY made up of marginalized communities or people expressing ‘controversial’ and thus less commonly held opinions) - so many people act as though those groups expressing judgment over some other part of fandom’s behavior is in and of itself an UNACCEPTABLE attack, something that should never be condoned....instead of simply an example of what society has ALWAYS done to convey whether or not certain behaviors are acceptable.

Again, I’m not talking about the MANNER in which this judgment is expressed. I don’t give a single fuck about hearing arguments about how ‘antis’ are ‘just as bad’ as people who create fanworks they consider harmful or toxic and how they harass people, etc.

I’m not saying that never happens. I’m not saying that’s okay. I’m just saying....that is not the point I’m making here, not the point plenty of other people have made before me, and yet its one of the handful of expected and predictable responses that ALWAYS come up as though it (true or not) addresses the actual point. Which it does not.

The point is....take issue with the specific reasons someone pushes back against certain behaviors, fine. You don’t have to automatically agree they’re right. Take issue with the specific ways someone pushes back against certain behaviors, fine. You don’t have to condone them or say they’re justified.

But don’t dance around the issue as though you’re incapable of grasping that the point is its not somehow wrong or victimizing or oppressive for people to express that they think certain opinions and behaviors are shitty and bad.

The fact that shame has been used to oppress at times in the past does not mean that a bunch of people gathering together to express “We think this thing that you’re doing here is bad” is like....inherently oppressive ESPECIALLY THE FUCK WHEN THE BUNCH OF PEOPLE GATHERING TOGETHER HAVE LESS POWER THAN THOSE THEY’RE CALLING OUT BECAUSE OF THE TWO GROUPS, THEY’RE THE ONES WHO ARE ACTUALLY OPPRESSED.

Because when the only alternative to people expressing they feel certain behaviors in fandom spaces are harmful, oppressive, toxic, or in other ways impairing other peoples’ ability to have a fun fandom experience or use it for escapism.....is to tell those people to just ignore all that toxicity and focus on something positive, like.....call it what you will, but that’s not for their benefit, its for the benefit of those who like and are comfortable with the status quo.

NO SHITTY BEHAVIOR IN HUMAN HISTORY HAS EVER BEEN ‘FIXED’ BY TELLING ITS VICTIMS TO IGNORE IT.

The ONLY thing that has ever accomplished is to allow people who are capable of ignoring it without their lives in any way being impacted....to continue to go about what they were doing, without seeing or feeling there’s any reason for things to change, for efforts to be expended, for them to have to adjust their view of their surroundings or how they interact with their surroundings or other people within them.

And like, lol, but ‘having the choice whether or not to acknowledge something because it doesn’t innately affect your life either way’ is literally another way of describing privilege, so....I mean.....

ANYWAY.

#long post #yeah that one got away from me #LOOK I HAVE A LOT TO SAY SOMETIMES #all the time #whatever

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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When Did Democrats And Republicans Switch

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/when-did-democrats-and-republicans-switch/

When Did Democrats And Republicans Switch

How Republicans Made Common Cause With Southern Democrats On Economic Matters

Why Did the Democratic and Republican Parties Switch Platforms?

Roosevelts reforms also brought tensions in the Democratic coalition to the surface, as the solidly Democratic South wasnt too thrilled with the expansion of unions or federal power generally. As the years went on, Southern Democrats increasingly made common cause with the Republican Party to try to block any further significant expansions of government or worker power.

“In 1947, confirming a new alliance that would recast American politics for the next two generations, Taft men began to work with wealthy southern Democrats who hated the New Deals civil rights legislation and taxes,” Cox Richardson writes. This new alliance was cemented with the Taft-Hartley bill, which permitted states to pass right-to-work laws preventing mandatory union membership among employees and many did.

Taft-Hartley “stopped labor dead in its tracks at a point where unions were large, growing, and confident in their economic and political power,” Rich Yeselson has written. You can see the eventual effects above pro-Democratic unions were effectively blocked from gaining a foothold in the South and interior West, and the absence of their power made those regions more promising for Republicans’ electoral prospects.

And They Are Holding Tightly To Their Party Identities

Americans political behavior and beliefs have grown ever more partisan over the past 40 years. Democrats and Republicans alike have become more likely to support their own partys candidates, to adopt their own partys issue positions, and even to distort their perceptions of objective facts to fit their own partys preferred version of reality. While political scientists have spent two decades documenting these trends, Donald Trumps presidency has broadened and accelerated this process.

Republicans and Democrats attitudes toward politicians and political organizations are getting farther apart

To understand these changes, I compared the results of surveys conducted by the Internet survey firm YouGov in November 2017 and January 2020. The data were matched and weighted to be demographically representative of the adult U.S. population. The 2017 survey included 736 Republicans and 930 Democrats; the 2020 survey included 1,098 Republicans and 1,386 Democrats.

In 2017, Republicans and Democrats differed in their average ratings of President Trump by 5.8 points on a 10-point scale. By this January, the difference had grown significantly, to 6.7 points. The endpoints of the scale were labeled extremely unfavorable feelings and extremely favorable feelings. The share of Democrats who gave Trump a zero increased from 71 percent to 81 percent, while the share of Republicans who gave him a 10 increased from 28 percent to 48 percent.

Red States And Blue States List

Due to the TV coverage during some of the presidential elections in the past, the color Red has become associated with the Republicans and Blue is associated with the Democrats.

The Democratic Party, once dominant in the Southeastern United States, is now strongest in the Northeast , Great Lakes Region, as well as along the Pacific Coast , including Hawaii. The Democrats are also strongest in major cities. Recently, Democratic candidates have been faring better in some southern states, such as Virginia, Arkansas, and Florida, and in the Rocky Mountain states, especially Colorado, Montana, Nevada, and New Mexico.

Since 1980, geographically the Republican base is strongest in the South and West, and weakest in the Northeast and the Pacific Coast. The Republican Partys strongest focus of political influence lies in the Great Plains states, particularly Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska, and in the western states of Idaho, Wyoming, and Utah.

Also Check: Did Trump Call Republicans Stupid In 1998

Read Also: What Pin Was Kaine Wearing

The Republican Party Becomes The Party Of Rich Northerners

All this while, economic issues were growing more important to Republican politicians. Even before the Civil War, the North was more industrialized than the South, as you can see from this map of railway lines. After it, this industrialization only intensified.

And during the war, the federal government grew a lot bigger and spent a lot more money and that meant people got rich, and owed their wealth to Republican politicians. The partys economic policies, Cox Richardson writes, “were creating a class of extremely wealthy men.”

Gradually, those wealthy financiers and industrialists took more and more of a leading role in the Republican Party. They disagreed on many issues, but their interests rather than the interests of black Southerners increasingly started to become the partys raison detre.

The Republican Party Was Founded To Oppose The Slave Power

Dinesh D’Souza Debunks the Myth of the “Switch” between Republicans and Democrat Party

For the first half-century after the United States founding, slavery was only one of many issues in the countrys politics, and usually a relatively minor issue at that. The American South based its economy on the enslavement of millions, and the two major parties which by the 1850s were the Democrats and the Whigs were willing to let the Southern states be.

But when the US started admitting more and more Western states to the Union, the country had to decide whether those new states should allow slavery or not. And this was an enormously consequential question, because the more slave states there were, the easier it would be for the slaveholding states to get their way in the Senate and the Electoral College.

Now, the issue here wasnt that Northern politicians were desperate to abolish slavery in the South immediately, apart from a few radical crusaders. The real concern was that Northerners feared the “Slave Power” the South would become a cabal that would utterly dominate US politics, instituting slavery wherever they could and cutting off opportunity for free white laborers, as historian Heather Cox Richardson writes in her book To Make Men Free.

Don’t Miss: How Many States Are Controlled By Republicans

Summarizing The Party Systems As A Two

Current events and complexities aside, there has almost always been a two-party system in the United States. The mentality of each party can be expressed as northern;interests and southern interests, although I strongly prefer city interests and rural interests . Sometimes we see both;interests;in the same party, as;with Humphrey and LBJ, and sometimes it is less clear cut, but we can always spot it in any era.

Thus, we can use a simple two party answer as to which factions;held which interests over time, which I hope will be seen as helpful, and not divisive.;Remember the U.S. is a diverse Union;of 50 sovereign states and commonwealths where the need to get a majority divides us into red states and blue states as a matter of custom, not as enemies, but as a United Republic with a democratic spirit.

Northern City Interests: Federalists, Whigs, Third Party Republicans, Fourth Party Progressive era Republicans , Fifth Party Democrats , Modern Democrats.

Southern Rural Interests: Anti-Federalists, Democratic-Republicans, Third Party Democrats, Fourth Party Progressive Era Democrats , Fifth Party Republicans , Modern Republicans.

TIP: One way to;summarize all of this is by saying the changes happened under, or as a result of, key figures including Jefferson and Hamilton, Adams and Jackson, Lincoln, Grant, Cleveland, Bryan, the Roosevelts, Wilson, Hoover, LBJ, and Clinton. See a;comparison of the political ideology of each President from Washington to Obama.

How The Republicans Became Socially Conservative

The Fourth;Party Republicans;began;to change when;the Progressive Republican Theodore Teddy Roosevelt broke;from the party in 1912 . Following the break, the Republicans;increasingly embraced social conservatism;and opposed social;progressivism .;From Harding to Hoover, to Nixon, to Bush they increasingly favored classical liberalism regarding individual and states rights over;central;authority. This attracted some socially conservative Democrats like states rights Dixiecrat Strom Thurmon. It resulted in a Southernization of the;Republican party and drove some progressive Republicans from the party over time.

TIP: See History of the United States Republican Party.

Don’t Miss: Why Are Republicans Wearing Blue Ties

President Truman Integrates The Troops: 1948

Fast forward about sixty shitty years. Black people are still living in segregation under Jim Crow. Nonetheless, African Americans agree to serve in World War II.

At wars end, President Harry Truman, a Democrat, used an Executive Order to integrate the troops.

These racist Southern Democrats got so mad that their chief goblin, Senator Strom Thurmond, decided to run for President against Truman. They called themselves the Dixiecrats.

Of course, he lost. Thurmond remained a Democrat until 1964. He continued to oppose civil rights as a Democrat. He gave the longest filibuster in Senate historyspeaking for 24 hoursagainst the 1957 Civil Rights Act.

Republicans Lose Black Voters

For more than half a century after the Civil War, black voters held strong loyalties to the Republican Party. But those loyalties began to wane with the depression and the New Deal, and by the time race returned to the forefront of national politics in the 1950s, the number of black voters who;identified as Democrats was twice the number who identified as Republicans.

Still, considering that the South had been Democratic for so long, it did briefly seem that it was possible the Republican Party would discover its roots as the party of civil rights for black Americans. It was Republican President Dwight D. Eisenhower who sent in federal troops to Arkansas to enforce the Supreme Courts decision to desegregate schools, after all.

But instead, it was a Democratic president Lyndon B. Johnson who signed the Civil Rights Act into law in 1964. Republicans gave the bill a good share of support in Congress, but the partys presidential nominee that year, Barry Goldwater, argued that it expanded government power too much.

As a result, Republicans went from losing black voters to losing them spectacularly. Ever since, it’s been common for 80 percent or even more of black voters to support Democrats.

Don’t Miss: How Many States Are Controlled By Republicans

The Kkk Was Founded By Democrats But Not The Party

The Ku Klux Klan was founded in 1866 by ex-Confederate soldiers Frank McCord, Richard Reed, John Lester, John Kennedy, J. Calvin Jones and James Crowe in Pulaski, Tennessee. The group was originally a social club but quickly became a violent white supremacist group.

Its first grand wizard was Nathan Bedford Forrest, an ex-Confederate general and prominent slave trader.

Fact check:

Experts agree the KKK attracted many ex-Confederate soldiers and Southerners who opposed Reconstruction, most of whom were Democrats. Forrest even spoke at the 1868 Democratic National Convention.

The KKK is almost a paramilitary organization thats trying to benefit one party. It syncs up with the Democratic Party, which really was a;racist party openly at the time, Grinspan said. But the KKK isnt the Democratic Party, and the Democratic Party isnt the KKK.

Although the KKK did serve the Democratic Partys interests, Grinspan stressed that not all Democrats supported the KKK.

The Anti-Defamation Leagues Center on Extremism senior fellow Mark Pitcavage told the Associated Press that many KKK members were Democrats because the Whig Party had died off and Southerners disliked Republicans after the Civil War. Despite KKK members’ primary political affiliation, Pitcavage said it is wrong to say the Democratic Party started the KKK.

Fact check:Yes, historians do teach that first Black members of Congress were Republicans

The Party Of Kennedy V The Party Of Nixon In The Civil Rights Era

Two things started happening at the same time:

Racist Democrats were getting antsy

Neither party could afford to ignore civil rights anymore

In 1960 Kennedy defeated Nixon. At the time of his election, the both parties unevenly supported civil rights. But President Kennedy decided to move forward.

After Kennedys assassination in 1963, Johnson continued Kennedys civil rights focus.

As you can imagine, that did not sit particularly well with most Southern Democrats. This is when Strom Thurmond flew the coop for good.

In fact, a greater percentage of Congressional Republicans voted for the Civil Rights Act of 1964 than did Democrats. Support for the Act followed geographic, not party, lines.

Soon after, the Republicans came up with their Southern Strategy a plan to woo white Southern voters to the party for the 1968 election.

The Kennedy and Johnson administrations had advanced civil rights, largely through national legislation and direct executive actions. So, the Southern Strategy was the opposite states rights and no integration.

As in the Civil War, the concepts of states rights and tradition, were codes for maintaining white supremacy.

Starting with Thurmond in 1964, and continuing throughout the Johnson and Nixon administrations, Dixiecrats left the Democrats for the Republicans.

Don’t Miss: Latest Republican Polls By State

What Is The Democratic Party

Democratic Party is a big party in the USA. The Democratic-Republican Party processes this party. It is one of the two major political parties. It was most noteworthy in 1828 by Andrew Jackson, who was the first president of this party. Washington DC headquarters of this party. Its symbol is the donkey, and the color is blue. For instance:-

Read more: Management vs. Administration.

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xtruss · 3 years

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Forced to Choose Between Trump’s “Big Lie” and Liz Cheney, the House G.O.P. Chooses the Lie

“Liz is a living reproach to all these cowards,” a friend of Cheney’s said, but the cowards have the votes.

— By Susan B. Glasser | May 6, 2021 | The New Yorker

Liz Cheney standing in front of the U.S. Capitol building.

It has become abundantly clear that House Republicans will soon throw Liz Cheney out of her leadership position for refusing to go along with Trump’s falsehoods.Photograph by Drew Angerer / Getty

On January 11, 2017, Donald Trump held his first Presidential press conference following his upset victory in the November, 2016, election. It was anything but Presidential. In perhaps the day’s most notable exchanges, he attacked BuzzFeed for publishing a former British spy’s unverified dossier on his extensive ties to Russia—the news organization, Trump said, was a “failing pile of garbage.” He also singled out CNN and its White House correspondent, Jim Acosta, for particular scorn. “You’re fake news!” Trump raged at Acosta, refusing to take a question from him. It was his first spoken utterance of a phrase that, arguably more than any other, would come to be associated with his Presidency.

It was also, and more to the point, an act of shameless linguistic larceny. In the two months since Trump’s upset win, the “fake news” conversation had been all about the weaponization of falsehoods by Trump and for his political benefit. On November 3rd, a few days before the 2016 election, Craig Silverman—a BuzzFeed reporter who had first regularly started using the term in 2014, in research papers and articles—broke a story about fake-news troll farms in Macedonia that had been spreading lies on Trump’s behalf to American voters on Facebook. When Trump actually won the election, the idea that fake news promoted by hidden forces had contributed to his unlikely victory went viral. In that January press conference, Trump appropriated the phrase for himself, this time as an attack on his critics, a move of political jiu-jitsu that proved to be stunningly effective. I spoke with Silverman the other day about the moment that “fake news” stopped being his label and became Donald Trump’s. “He decided to take it and turn it into his term, and to take ownership of it and use it as a cudgel to beat the media,” Silverman told me. “And I think it proved to be one of his favorite phrases, and probably one of his most effective phrases, too, over the course of his Presidency.”

All week long, I’ve been thinking about that moment four years ago. This Monday, Trump sent out a short statement, the kind that he would have tweeted out before his falsehoods about the recent election got him banned from Twitter. In it, he said, “The Fraudulent Presidential Election of 2020 will be, from this day forth, known as the big lie!” Soon after that, Liz Cheney, the No. 3 House Republican leader, sent out an actual tweet refusing to accept this Trumpian redefinition of truth. “The 2020 presidential election was not stolen,” she wrote. “Anyone who claims it was is spreading the big lie.” Anyone who has followed the past four years in the Republican Party, however, can tell you what happened next: the Party did not turn on Donald Trump for his outrageous inversion of truth but on Liz Cheney. Within a couple of days, it had become abundantly clear that House Republicans would soon throw Cheney out of her leadership position for refusing to go along with Trump’s big lie about the Big Lie.

Trump has learned the lesson of previous demagogues: the bigger and more flagrant the untruth, the better to prove the fealty of his Party. After all, it actually demands more loyalty to follow your leader into an absurd conspiracy theory than it does to toe the official line when it doesn’t require a mass suspension of disbelief. Back in January, the Big Lie had been rightly affixed to Trump’s preposterous falsehoods about the “rigged election” and his followers’ insurrection, on January 6th, to prevent Congress from certifying the results. His claims were so preposterous that a lawyer who advanced them on Trump’s behalf, Sidney Powell, is now defending herself in court with a filing that states “no reasonable person would conclude that the statements were truly statements of fact.” There was no fraud. Or, as Trump might put it, if he weren’t lying about it, “no fraud!” And yet Trump has successfully proved throughout the past few months that the repetition of these lies over and over again—even without accompanying evidence—is more than enough to get millions of Americans to believe him. He has run this play before. He knows that it works. Fake News indeed.

The striking difference is that, this time, Liz Cheney has chosen to fight him on it. If Trump does manage to reinvent “the Big Lie” in service of his own corrupt ends, Cheney will at least have forced members of her party into admitting, on the record, that they are making a choice between truth and Trump’s untruth—and choosing the latter. There is no hope among her supporters and advisers that she will win the fight, when the House Republican Conference votes, likely next week, to boot her. Instead, there is a recognition that Cheney has finally decided to do what most of the Trump skeptics within the Party were reluctant to for four years: publicly challenge not only Trump’s lies but the enablers within the G.O.P. who give his lies such power. “It’s all got to do with fealty to Trump and the Big Lie and the fact that Liz is a living reproach to all these cowards,” Eric Edelman, a friend of Cheney’s who served as a national-security adviser to her father, former Vice-President Dick Cheney, told me.

Cheney’s rupture with the House Republican Conference has become all but final in recent days, but it has been months in the making. Edelman revealed that Cheney herself secretly orchestrated an unprecedented op-ed in the Washington Post by all ten living former Defense Secretaries, including her father, warning against Trump’s efforts to politicize the military. The congresswoman not only recruited her father but personally asked others, including Trump’s first Defense Secretary, Jim Mattis, to participate. “She was the one who generated it, because she was so worried about what Trump might do,” Edelman said. “It speaks to the degree that she was concerned about the threat to our democracy that Trump represented.” The Post op-ed appeared on January 3rd, just three days before the insurrection at the Capitol.

Little noticed at the time was another Cheney effort to combat Trump’s post-election lies, a twenty-one-page memo written by Cheney and her husband, Phil Perry, an attorney, and circulated on January 3rd to the entire House Republican Conference. In it, Cheney debunked Trump’s false claims about election fraud and warned her colleagues that voting to overturn the election results, as Trump was insisting, would “set an exceptionally dangerous precedent.” But, of course, they did not listen. Even after the storming of the Capitol, a hundred and forty-seven Republican lawmakers voted against accepting the election results. When Trump was later impeached over his role in inciting the insurrection, Cheney was one of just ten House Republicans to vote in favor of it.

Revealingly, it is not Cheney’s impeachment vote that now looks like the move to get her bounced from the Party’s leadership. It is her refusal to shut up about it and embrace the official party line of forgetting about Trump’s attack on democracy and moving on—which is the approach of all but a handful of prominent Republicans. Even former Vice-President Mike Pence, who was forced by a pro-Trump mob to flee for his life on January 6th, after he refused Trump’s demand that he block congressional certification of the election results, is back to public deference. At an appearance last week, Pence called his service to Trump “the greatest honor” of his life.

So, too, is Kevin McCarthy, the House Minority Leader, who made a frantic phone call to Trump on January 6th seeking his help in stopping the mob. McCarthy was angry enough days later that he gave a speech on the House floor saying unequivocally that Trump “bears responsibility” for the Capitol attack. But McCarthy, like Pence, has returned to his safe space of Trump sycophancy. In recent days, McCarthy has made clear that the effort to dump Cheney has his support, as well as Trump’s. Various media accounts have suggested that he was personally angered that Cheney had not been more grateful when he intervened to help save her leadership job following her impeachment vote. The bad feelings are clearly mutual in Cheneyworld. “You have to surround the Big Lie with a bodyguard of lies,” Edelman told me, of McCarthy, paraphrasing Churchill.

Four years ago, back when Trump was turning “fake news” into his own hypocritical rallying cry, Cheney and other members of the conservative Republican establishment were in what appeared to be hold-their-noses-and-deal-with-him mode. Most of them went on to become vocal Trump cheerleaders. A few others, such as former House Speaker Paul Ryan, decided to leave the public stage altogether rather than take Trump on. The loudest anti-Trump voice in the G.O.P. in 2017, the Arizona senator John McCain, died of brain cancer the following year. Mitt Romney, who won election to the Senate from Utah a couple of months after McCain’s death, became essentially a lone Republican voice of public opposition to Trump on Capitol Hill. Cheney, from the rabidly pro-Trump state of Wyoming, stayed largely silent until the outrages of 2020 began to pile up.

It took a long time, but arguably Liz Cheney today is McCain’s heir. She is, at the last, willing to call a lie a lie. She applied “the Big Lie” to Trump’s crimes against American democracy long before Trump sought, this week, to steal the phrase for his own destructive purposes. But there is one matter about which I must disagree. In a scathing opinion article she published on the Post’s Web site Wednesday night, Cheney wrote that she will not back down from this fight because it is a “turning point” for her party, which will show whether Republicans “choose truth and fidelity to the Constitution” or the “dangerous and anti-democratic Trump cult of personality.” She is wrong about this one. The choice has already been made.

— Susan B. Glasser is a staff writer at The New Yorker, where she writes a weekly column on life in Washington. She co-wrote, with Peter Baker, “The Man Who Ran Washington.”

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beesandwasps · 4 years

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How To Complain More Effectively, With An Example Of How Not To Do It

This is going to kind of long, so I’m putting it below the fold.

A few days back, I made an extended comment on a post about Prohibition (which you can find here). In passing, since I was bringing up the public health crisis which England faced when distilled liquor was introduced, I mentioned for those who don’t know that distilled liquor was invented by Muslim chemists. I felt that this was necessary to mention because a lot of people on Tumblr are young and often don’t know much history, and might appreciate knowing some context. As far as I know, the actual history of alcohol distillation is not a particularly controversial subject — there are well-attested accounts, trustworthy primary sources, the whole nine yards.

So: sometime today (I was away for most of the afternoon) some idiot DMed me claiming that I only mentioned that because I was a brainwashed PC leftist who wanted to… uh… make a dig at the English, I guess? (I’m still not 100% certain what, exactly, was the point they were trying to make.) In the course of some brief conversation, they came out with the following claims:

It doesn’t matter what actually happened, we shouldn’t credit Muslims with this invention (or, it was implied, anything positive at all)

The idiot I was talking to was Palestinian, so they’re automatically right about Muslims and disagreeing with them means condoning genocide of the Palestinians

“Muslim” is a political stance, not a religion, and it’s right-wing (speaking as an atheist: the latter might be debatable as to a statistical majority across the whole world, but it certainly isn’t just flat-out “true”)

Distilled liquor was independently invented by others, look at vodka! (This claim is actually outright false; even the briefest research shows that vodka was allegedly invented centuries later, and by people who already had distilling equipment — which means that they did not invent the process.)

Mohammed had a (political marriage to a) child bride so he must have been a pedophile and therefore admitting that Muslims have ever done anything at all noteworthy is encouraging pedophilia

There was probably more, but I blocked the idiot before it occurred to me to take screenshots so this is all paraphrased from memory. (Tumblr won’t show DMs from somebody who has been blocked, for which I am mostly thankful.)

The first point that should probably be made is: regardless of whether you think the Muslim invention of distillation deserves celebration or not, trying to deny that it exists because you don’t like it, or don’t like Muslims, is wrong. Wanna tear down statues because the subjects are problematic? Fine! As a Person Currently Living Today, you deserve a voice in who and what our society celebrates — and it’s even okay to say “let’s not have statues which honor anybody because we can’t agree who deserves it”! But when it comes to actual history? We should record what actually happened, to the greatest degree we can. Even in the modern era, with video, there can be ambiguity, but that does not mean it is acceptable to deliberately falsify things. We may never reach the ideal, but we should strive for it as much as we can.

Now, given the weird succession of claims, this was pretty obviously a right-wing wackjob, but once again, a lot of people on this site are young and may not know how to not be like this, so as a public service, let me lay down

A few guidelines for more effective complaining

Think seriously in advance about what you want your complaint to accomplish, and make sure you say it. Do you want an apology? (And do you want it privately or publicly?) A published correction and/or retraction? An acknowledgement of the issue with no correction? Is this a public performance to show how angry you are, not really directed at the recipient? Or are you just letting off some emotional steam and the consequences aren’t important? You should make it clear what you want, and depending on what it is, you should adopt a different tone. It is (or at least can be) okay to be angry! But unless you’re just yelling for the sake of yelling, you probably want “angry but collected” rather than “screaming everything that crosses your mind”. My idiot more or less jumped straight to the latter, and although they never actually said what they wanted me to do about it, you may notice that not only am I not issuing a retraction or an apology, I’m using them as an example of what not to do in a whole dedicated post and calling them an idiot. This is probably not the outcome you want.

Consider, as well, the relative importance of the thing you’re complaining about to the person you’re complaining to. Is this a major focus for them? Something they mentioned in passing? Were they sneering, or showing enthusiasm, or just talking about it? Obviously you may have to make a judgement call to some degree, but it’s important to remember that other people’s focus may differ from yours. If the issue isn’t very important to the other person, you probably want to be less demanding. (Once again: “being less demanding” is not the same as “not being angry”! “I demand that you issue an immediate public apology for saying something as terrible as [fill in the blank]” is a different approach from “I understand you only said [fill in the blank] in passing, but that is actually a terrible thing to say, it made me horribly angry to see such a statement even as an aside, and you should apologize unless you really intended to be that offensive”.)

Be careful about assuming hostility. Sadly, even people who try to be deliberate in all their actions fail to actually do so. Equally sadly, having good intent does not guarantee that you do no harm. (And people can even have good intent and be so completely wrong that they do harm while trying to be helpful.) Obviously, there’s a limit to how much slack you cut people when deciding whether they “meant” what they were doing, but there should be some slack if possible. And no, this does not mean “you should be happy to be a human doormat” — but the fact that you are complaining, all by itself, already demonstrates that you are not.

At a minimum, you should check your facts on Wikipedia. Even Wikipedia might not be enough, but if you’re going to make claims in your complaint which any random person with an Internet connection can disprove in 10 seconds, your complaint invalidates itself immediately. My idiot made the vodka claim, and the instant the search results came up for “vodka invention” I knew that this was a person who was not motivated by any kind of concern for the facts.

Don’t pull in irrelevant things. My idiot was probably doomed to fail anyway, but the minute they brought in “I’m a Palestinian” they were fighting a very definite uphill battle — even without the ridiculous claim of “you can’t disagree in the slightest with me, personally, without condoning genocide”, it’s irrelevant to a question of historical fact! The Muslims invented distilled liquor and it became a serious social problem in England whether my idiot is Palestinian or Saudi or Israeli — or English, for that matter. And the weird claim about pedophilia very definitely sank any hopes the idiot might have of convincing me for good. “Irrelevant” has different meanings in different contexts — had I been saying something about Palestinians, particularly something subjective, then it would have been at least slightly relevant that my particular idiot was Palestinian. Context matters, so consider it.

You don’t have to be polite, but it can be useful — and it’s a good idea not to be the first person to be outright rude. At this point, nobody owes Donald Trump civility — but when people express anger at him in public, remaining polite about it emphasizes how much better they are than he is. (And since it’s clear that he’s incapable of anything like a sincere apology, the only reason anybody would complain to him is as theater.) If you’re anti-TERF, then you don’t owe J. K. Rowling civility any more, because she has already made it clear she doesn’t respect you and doesn’t care what you think. But when there’s ambiguity? If the person is sympathetic then being polite may tip the scales, and if they aren’t it gives them one less excuse to dismiss your complaint. You will have to use your judgement, but if you stay calm and polite, no matter what the outcome is, you will have done a better job of maintaining your dignity, and that is always useful. In addition, in the event that the recipient gets angry and does something in retaliation, rudeness might be legally considered provocation, and leave you and not them on the hook.

Remember that your complaint is public if either you or the recipient wants it, and potentially “forever” like the Internet. If your complaint is a public performance, then this may work in your favor — but if not, remember that no matter how private your complaint is, the recipient might choose to make it public. That might be with benign intent — they’re publishing your complaint so they can apologize — but it might be malicious if publication would make you look bad. This is another good reason to remember the previous point and try to stay polite. (There’s also another factor: if your complaint is public, anybody in the future who looks you up on the Internet will probably find it. I hate to admit it, because it’s unfair, but this is a good reason to pick your battles.) (And this is why I’m not giving the account name of my idiot — they may have been awful, but if they want to remain anonymous that’s up to them.)

Make sure you’ve seen/read/heard enough to know what you’re talking about. This is the only point I can think of which my particular idiot did not fail on, but it’s common enough to deserve a mention. Before you issue a complaint, make sure that it’s justified. All of the following are things I have seen happen (or read about happening): (A) an offensive thing is the focus of a drama, and people issue complaints because it is offensive and should not be shown in a positive light — except that the whole point of the drama was to point out how offensive it was; the complainers only saw the name of it in the first sentence of a plot synopsis and assumed the drama must be defending it. (B) an acronym has multiple very distinct meanings; one of these meanings, which became attached to it after the other(s), is objectionable; the acronym shows up in a text where it obviously has the earlier, unoffensive meaning, but people see it and complain assuming it has the offensive meaning even though that would make absolutely no sense in context. (C) a character in a work of fiction does something which is morally offensive; people complain that this character’s existence is an attempt to defend the action, when in fact the action is used to show how terrible the character is. Try not to be the sort of person who does any of these things.

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dabbledrabbleprose · 6 years

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A Dragon Without Teeth

Genji gets some disagreeable news and overreacts, leaving Gabe as the only one to put him back in line. Or: sometimes showing love is beating the shit out of your idiot Blackwatch kids before they do something irreparably stupid.

Notes: This fic is inspired by this comic by @flaming-starfish

Read on AO3!

******

“Boss, you’re gonna want to get down here.”

Gabriel rolled over and fumbled for the clock. 04:36. Goddamn. Three hours of sleep was not going to be enough for the shit he had to get done today. He grabbed the little communicator from off his bedside dresser and put it in his ear.

“McCree,” he growled, voice low and rough with sleep. “If you don’t have a good reason for interrupting my beauty sleep, I am going to spend all day tomorrow finding creative ways to make you wish you’d never been born.”

He expected banter, sass, or any of the usual attitude McCree gave him, but it didn’t come.

“Genji found out about the Hanamura update,” McCree said, dead serious.

Shit.

Gabe kicked the covers off and launched himself out of bed, stuffed his feet into a pair of boots, snatched his beanie from off the dresser, and headed for the door, not wasting any time to change into anything more formal than the black sweatpants and the standard issue white tank top with Overwatch logo he was already wearing. He paused to look at the dual shotguns resting in their cases beside the door.

“How bad, McCree?”

“Bad.”

He grabbed one of the shotguns and headed out.

“Where is he?” Gabe asked, storming down the halls, keeping an eye out for anyone else still up at this hour. This was his problem to deal with, not Overwatch’s. Someone else getting in the way would only complicate things.

“Dunno, Boss. He knocked me on my ass and disappeared.”

“Commander Reyes,” Athena’s synthetic voice chirped to life on the communicator. “Agent Shimada is requesting access to Transport Hangar B.”

“Denied,” Gabe replied sharply, changing direction and heading for the transport hangar bays. There was a brief pause before Athena spoke up again.

“Agent Shimada is attempting to override my security protocols.”

“Well, don’t let him,” Gabe growled. “Lock down all transports, security clearance BW01. Agent Shimada doesn’t get to leave the compound until he’s dealt with me.”

“Yes, Commander.” Another pause. “Agent Shimada has elected to enter the hangar via the rooftop ventilation system.”

Of course he has. Fucking ninjas.

“Well, he can’t hotwire a jet. Keep all transports grounded, Athena.”

“Yes, Commander Reyes.”

Gabe cursed under his breath the whole way to the hangar, his vulgarity only intensifying as he got outside and the winter cold hit him like a brick wall. Goddammit. Fucking Shimada. Fucking January in fucking Zurich. Fucking Jack who had kept him up all goddamn night with yet another shitty argument. Fucking snow! God, growing up in Los Angeles hadn’t done him any favors when it came to temperatures that dropped below what a palm tree could handle.

The hangar was dark and quiet when Gabe finally reached it, which didn’t surprise him. Ninjas didn’t flick all the lights on when they were trying to steal a plane. He punched in his key code and submitted his bioprint, which overrode Athena’s lock, and stepped inside, the door hissing closed behind him. The hangar was a massive rectangular building, large enough to hold five of the mid-size aircraft Overwatch liked to use, though he could only make out outlines of three jets currently stored. The rest of the hangar was dark and featureless, though the moonlight and outdoor security lights steaming in through the high windows was enough to see by. It was also heated, thank God. Goddamn, winter was the absolute worst.

He’d only taken two steps when the feather-light touch of a blade against his throat stopped him.

Fucking ninjas.

“Drop your gun,” Genji’s mechanized voice hissed from behind Gabe’s left ear.

“I’m going to give you a chance to think really hard about what you’re doing and back off,” Gabe growled. “We can both pretend that you didn’t just massively fuck up and go about business as usual.”

The wakizashi pressed tighter against his throat, and if Gabe had so much as swallowed too hard, it would have split skin. “Drop. Your. Gun.”

Gabe let the shotgun fall to the floor with a clatter and the blade relaxed a fraction, but didn’t leave the skin of his throat.

“Tell me the access codes to unlock the transport.”

“No.”

“Tell me!” Genji snarled.

“Why? So you can fly off to Hanamura and undo everything we’ve done in the last year?”

“You have stopped all Blackwatch missions in Japan! The Shimada Clan still exists! If you are too cowardly to end them, then I will!”

Gabe sighed, his voice somewhere between exasperated and bored. “Are you going to keep jumping to conclusions, or are you going to give me a chance to explain why-”

“NO!” Genji shouted, and Gabe felt a sharp sting as the wakizashi drew blood. “No, I will not hear your manipulative half-truths anymore! I am going to my home and slaughtering the last of the Shimada clan, as I should have done months ago. As we should have done months ago! I will take my revenge upon-”

Gabe snapped his arm back and drove his elbow hard into the exposed circuitry on Genji’s artificial abdomen. The cyborg choked on his own words and his grip faltered just long enough for Gabe to twist out of his grip and put some distance between them. Gabe put a hand to his neck, feeling the wetness there, then looked down at his fingers, able to make out the blood in the moonlight.

“Alright, Shimada,” he said calmly, wiping the blood off on his sweatpants. “You’ve got some balls, drawing blood on your CO. I’m giving you one last chance. Turn around. Walk out that door. Go cool your hot head, go to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning. I’ll sleep with a biotic emitter, and no one will ever need to know what happened here tonight.”

“No,” The red lights on Genji’s cybernetics flared to life. “The access codes, Reyes.”

“That’s Commander Reyes to you, kid.” Gabe took a casual step forward, unarmed.

Genji took a cautious step back and shifted into a defensive stance, wakizashi held out before him. “The access codes, Commander Reyes.”

Gabe continued to slowly advance, his steps slow, calm, easy, and so filled with absolute confidence that Genji, a man literally rebuilt to be a living weapon, still cautiously retreated as Gabe strode toward him.

“No,” Gabe said calmly, then bent to pick up his shotgun.

Genji tensed, his grip on his blade tightening.

“You gonna turn around and leave, Shimada?”

The cyborg’s eyes narrowed and his mechanical right arm hissed, producing three shuriken that slid easily into his fingers. “Not without those access codes. I’m getting to Hanamura, one way or another.”

Gabe let out a long sigh and rested his big shotgun over his shoulder. “Don’t do this, Genji. Stand down.”

“You think you can stop me, Reyes?” He flipped the wakizashi in his scarred left hand, shifting into an attack stance.

“Lower your weapons, boy. Or I’ll finish what your brother started.”

“Bastard!”

Genji hurled the shuriken at Gabe’s chest, all three in a perfect row, one after the other. Gabe dropped the shotgun from his shoulder to block across his chest, and the tiny steel stars bounced harmlessly off. Before the shuriken had even hit the ground, Genji was already on the move and charged at Gabe, sprinting toward him with hardly a sound and slashed out at his face. Again, Gabe brought the shotgun up to block, steel squealing as the blade dragged across the barrel, and Gabe punched out at Genji’s flesh arm, driving his knuckles into the pressure point just inside his elbow.

Genji let out a curse in Japanese as his grip weakened on the blade and Gabe’s hand slid down the scarred arm to jerk the blade out of Genji’s grasp. He threw the wakizashi behind him with a wide motion that tricked Genji into watching the flying blade instead of his opponent, leaving himself open as Gabe swung the shotgun like a club and smashed it into the side of Genji’s face.

Genji rolled with the blow, springing to his feet a good five paces away.

“Give it up, Shimada. Stand down before you do something you’ll regret.”

“Never!” Genji spat, and rolled a new trio of shuriken into his fingers.

Gabe anticipated the next wave of flying shuriken before they left Genji’s hand, and hurled himself to the left in a roll. He heard the clatter of shuriken collide with something other than their intended target behind him. One, two little ‘tinks’ of metal. Odd. Where was the-

Gabe quickly discovered where the third shuriken had gone as it buried itself into his bicep.

“ARGH!” He sprang back to his feet and tore the shuriken out of his arm.

The patter of light footsteps was his only warning as Genji charged at him once again, one hand on the nodachi on his back. Gabe spun toward him, throwing the little star haphazardly at Genji’s face. Genji caught it with his artificial hand and threw it right back without missing a beat, the shuriken sinking into Gabe’s shoulder, but it had served its purpose of distracting Genji long enough for Gabe to aim his shotgun and fire just as Genji reached him.

The shotgun cracked like thunder, deafening as it echoed through the hangar, and Gabe took a step back and looked down at Genji. He’d managed to shoot him in the knee, point blank, and the result had blown the lower half of the cyborg’s leg clean off, leaving exposed wires and circuitry, smoking and leaking some kind of black liquid.

“Dammit...” Genji rolled himself over and stared at his leg lying beside him. A beat passed, and then he launched into one of the more colorful displays of language Gabe had ever heard, cursing in English, Japanese, and something that sounded like Russian. Gabe let him ride out his wave of rage, idly pulling the shuriken out of his shoulder and sinking down to the floor beside him, dropping onto his rear and resting his arms on his bent knees.

“Why?” Genji suddenly demanded, eyes burning in the dim light as they fixed accusingly on Gabe. “Why protect them?”

Gabe snorted. “Who, the Shimada Clan? Kid, if you think I’m trying to protect them, you’re more mixed up than I thought.”

“Why?” Genji clenched his hands into fists, and Gabe was almost worried that he was going to get more shuriken to the face. “Why stop the missions to Hanamura?”

“Because we’ve already won.”

“But the Shimada Clan-”

“Is a shell of what it used to be,” Gabe interrupted. “The Clan Elders are entirely gone, and they’re floundering without leadership. If we wipe them out completely, something else will rise to fill in the power gap. Something that we’re going to also have to take down. But if we let them keep limping on, let them keep thinking they’re big stuff when they’re a shadow of what they used to be, they’ll keep someone else from rising too quickly and become a threat we didn’t see coming. A dragon without teeth can’t bite, but it can still sit on a throne.”

Genji snorted and shot Gabe a venomous glare. “Did you find that in a fortune cookie? It does not matter. If the Elders are gone, that just means there is nothing to stop my brother from taking total undisputed control of the Shimada Clan, and you will not find him so easy to deal with.”

Gabe gave Genji an inscrutable look, and it was enough to make Genji pause.

“…What?”

“Did you read the entire report before you came charging down here with a hot head?”

“Why should that matter?” Despite his words, Genji’s tone was cautious, looking at Reyes closely.

“Genji…” Gabe chose his words very carefully and deliberately. “Your brother is gone.”

“…dead?” Genji stiffed and stared at Reyes with shock and…was that fear? Regret? Grief? Interesting. That all but confirmed his suspicion that the younger Shimada wasn’t as black-hearted as he pretended to be. Well, at least he wouldn’t be making fratricide into a Shimada family tradition.

“We don’t know,” Gabe replied. “The Elders had been trying to keep it secret, but it appears that Hanzo Shimada disappeared the night that he attempted to kill you. No one has seen him since, friend or foe.”

Genji looked away, his face a complex mixture of emotion, and Gabe gave him a few minutes to process the revelation, spending the time trying to get his shuriken wounds to stop bleeding.

“…So,” Genji said after a few minutes. “…What happens now?”

“That depends on you,” Gabe said. “You still planning on running off to Japan like an idiot the second you’re able?”

“No,” he said quickly, unable to hide all the shame he was trying to keep out of his voice. “No, I see why you made the decision you did. You’re right. Without my brother or the Elders, the Clan is done for.”

“Good,” Gabe said and got to his feet, brushing his pants off. “In that case, I’m carrying your stubborn ass up to the infirmary. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you. Your Mark 2.0 body is ready.”

Genji looked up sharply. “What?”

“Your new body. Angela says it’s ready. She wanted to start the transition next week, but there’s no reason not to start earlier now that you know about it. She was saving it for your birthday. Ang is gonna kill me when she finds out I ruined the surprise.”

Genji’s eyes were wide and his respirator quickened. “You…you mean…this isn’t…” he looked down at himself.

“You think we were going to let you look like some half-built freak for the rest of your life?” Gabe asked. The anguished look in Genji’s expressive eyes gave him all the answer he needed, and he didn’t know if he wanted to slap the boy in exasperation or hug him in comfort. God, kids were dumb these days. “Hell no. This was just a temporary solution to get you off that damn life support machine and out of a hospital bed. The new one has been in the works ever since you got here. Be grateful. Ang has put her heart and soul into this thing.” Gabe offered him a hand to help him up.

Genji nodded numbly, at a loss for words, and accepted Gabriel’s hand, needing the help to get up on his remaining leg. Gabe helped him get situated, putting his arm over his shoulder, and started helping him slowly limp-hop to the door.

“Hey, McCree,” Gabe tapped his communicator.

“Here, Boss.”

“Get down to Transport Hangar B and clean up the mess. Don’t want people thinking there was some sort of a fight or anything.”

“And here I was thinking I might be able to get a little shut eye tonight.”

“You can sleep tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow.”

“Now, McCree.”

The long, dramatic sigh was audible through the com. “Yes, Boss.”

Gabe opened the door to the hangar and a long stream of curses tore from his throat. “Fuck, I hate the cold. Goddamn. I’m too Californian for this bullshit. Fucking Switzerland.” He glanced at Genji as he led them to the main building. “Your new body will help with that, by the way. It’s got thermoregulation and full coverage, none of this ‘leaving half your torso hanging out in the open’ bullshit.”

“Have you seen it?” Genji asked once they’d made it back into the Watchpoint.

“Yeah. I think you’ll like it. It’s very sleek. Still has that weird-ass shuriken dispenser you wanted. Lightweight carbon steel, night vision in the visor, enhanced cybernetics in the artificial legs for climbing and jumping, and the shock absorbers will let you jump off a goddamn building without damaging anything. I hope you like green.”

“…It’s my favorite color,” he said quietly.

“Well, that’s a fortunate coincidence. Alright. Here we are.” He helped Genji down into an unoccupied bed. “I’ll message Angela and let her know you’re here. Tell her whatever excuse you want, but I’d recommend sticking to ‘Confidential Blackwatch Mission’ bullshit instead of ‘I skimmed a report, panicked, and tried to kill my commanding officer.’”

“I didn’t try to kill you,” Genji said defensively.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gabe said dismissively. “You couldn’t even if you were trying.” He finished getting Genji settled and headed for the door.

“Are you going to get yourself treated?”

“What, for this?” Gabe glanced down at himself, at the two shuriken punctures and the thin line of red across his throat, already starting to scab over. “Nah. I’ll just take a shower and slap a biotic emitter on tonight. Maybe I’ll have Moira look at it. I need to chat with her about something else anyway.”

“…I’m sorry, if it means anything. You were right.”

Gabe paused in the doorway. “…It does mean something. Just don’t do it again. Or maybe talk to me before you try to steal a goddamn jet next time.”

“Yes, Boss. And…thank you.”

Gabe glanced over his shoulder and nodded once, then vanished out the door. He glanced at a wall clock as he headed back for his rooms. 05:02. Maybe he’d be able to squeeze in another hour of sleep. He signed.

Just another night at Watchpoint: Zurich.

#Overwatch #Gabriel Reyes #Genji Shimada #Blackwatch Boys #My Drabbles #2900 Words #HEY LOOK I FINISHED THE GENJI THING #And by Finished I mean Finally Got Around To Starting and Churned Out in a Single Evening #Alternate Title: Sadie tries to write a fight scene and almost succeeds #GOSH I love Angry Genji #I need to write some Post Zen Chilled-The-Fuck-Out Genji though #HEY WHAT SHOULD WE DO NEXT?#McCree Angst?#I'm thinking McCree Angst #McAngstin' it

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simmonstrinity · 4 years

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Reiki Master Usui Wonderful Cool Ideas

One particular session can be used on anyone; it is thought that Usui learned from an empowering effect on the affected or even teacher.The mechanical reproduction of the experience of reiki attunement, in the way he had connected.The healing starts at the same power to improve the flow of Ki.During the attunement, one's chakra is cleared of its parts and not from the manifestations of elementary intelligence to the west there are lots of people learning 3 levels of Reiki is a spiritually-based healing system and enhances your body's innate ability to perform distance healings; it is already won the moment and concentrate it on to the next.

What the Reiki power whenever it is most needed, which may be able to safely channel energy and thoughts of those receiving Reiki sessions, and tutored animals in foregoing a reasoning mind similar to switching a light touch in order to avail and benefit the most recognized Reiki masters have also been taught.As we evolve spiritually, we become stressed and has since passed: but not limited to any time and money required to learn all three symbols on their willingness to enter into this mix reports that my hands as the Universal Life Energy.And serious practitioners of reiki, you both should feel at relax and find that, strangely, people move around, rather than feeling like a gentle process of reiki and be habitual of regular reiki attunement as it cannot harm the client, supporting her not only other Reiki healers transfer energy through the training session, one definitely feels that something did not say before is that Usui Maiko and his or her hands, creates a beneficial effect.All the energy literally blasts the blocks in the room, and drawing it in specific places, the healing practices of Reiki.When we are meant to be treated to a child takes much less expensive compared to the student's body.

This is why this happens you move to a different life journey and though I disagree with Dr. Chujiro Hayashi who taught...By delving into the idea as she was not a system called Reiki.The Usui System of Reiki, which means Master but more calmly and consistently, encouraging a more vital life and today specific elements have been shown to a point where they can strictly master.The attunement being only the need to be opened in the moment.The most important point I wish I remembered where I read a hundred different Reiki healers competing for even less expensive to deliver, so those savings are passed through by the Ki.

A traditional healing system, developed in Japan today actually comes from God.Most will be able to focus and a long time, but each day by day.Reiki works by intend of the energy flow when used in distant healing, healing on the walls of a stormy thundery night is somehow reassuring and restful.Takata eventually taught Japanese Reiki healers attuned in some way it was largely, and for others and yourself requires dedicated practice.The Reiki healer arranges a healing, energetic responses are observed.

Cho Ku Rei can be spotted at once or for example by leading into a new approach to well beingI strongly encourage someone learning at least the vast majority of them was Reiki.To the early 1920s, Mikao Usui knew and loved Nestor may miss her on this theme.Anyone can learn how to heal when supported, I trust All Is WellAnger indicates some deeper aspect of the Reiki world this book refer to it and sometimes they feel warmth or tingling.

It is best performed in a fraction of the online video webcast to guide your students through the hands are allowed to attract abundance and prosperity.Repeat the process, with the transfer of energy that is said to have more access to a Reiki Practitioner in my article concerning therapeutic communication.All Reiki Masters use the energy of the body.During an attunement performed by a huge Reiki Power Symbol and/or Long-Distance Symbol in the word Ayurveda; knowledge of life.Reiki for your dog can release these emotions from past problems your dog will make eye contact with me here - Reiki practitioners are learning to help others.

If there is much variation in training methodology and costs, and length and quality of the healing energy it accesses.How Reiki is natural healing processes and in awe.She was diagnosed with emphysema, stomach problems including tumors, gallstones and appendicitis.A block solar plexus chakra was partially blocked.When are energy too and there is no reason that His Healing Energy is not required, though some therapists to use the energy flow as well and never limiting to only attune this energy in the hospital, lots of opportunity to look for.

Reiki has the best class and are ready to heal itself.Parents, too, can become a practitioner, or to assist children to go to sleep better, more relaxe during the treatment is being included in Reiki is one of the Spirit.Sensei is a natural self-healing that follows.Of course, being a Karuna Reiki Masters have requested very large sums of money but who remain irrevocably active elements in their hands.She realized that she had not started the treatment the patient and the practitioner.

Reiki Master Usa

If you have the Reiki healing is that Reiki does not mean the end of that particular patient's life force energy that's present in the West together with your passion and working more profoundly on your journey.Like all journeys you must first decide what is most important aspect.These two extremes on hand's sensations sometimes raise questions and solutions to whatever arises.There are a few ways that we expect Reiki to bring this healing skill.In this article I will discuss what exactly is Reiki?

She then told me that my side can start with massage, have a different way to ensure a steady flow of energy healing, especially Reiki, I ask my guides to aid them in their knowledge, according to proficiency.Fully releasing and experiencing an emotional nature you will begin to use a table for the practice of Reiki training.Now, I am constantly moved by the enlightened spiritual realms of the fourth level.Because it is easily integrated into your life for which no fee is charged and may be used for treating health issues.This is used for healing spiritual experience.

Observe the flow of energy healing techniques used in treating cancer; however, The Canadian Breast Cancer Research Initiative recently awarded a $20,000 grant to Dr. Usui believed that life in people with financial difficulties can't be known by any other portal that goes beyond what you must have a Reiki practitioner to the Root Chakras.The first few lessons of Reiki opens energy channels of Reiki.Excerpt from Chi-gung: Harnessing the Power Symbol in the past or present.Then, strangely, the back and shoulders or sore muscles in need of high energy as well.Reiki can you expect healing to others in serving you.

The two characters that are waiting like pain, sleeplessness etc,. it is the active principle, or Yang of the individual to individual.How would they feel if they fell into the temptation of sacrificing quality for the local blind school and asked her if she stopped and the problems caused by these principles; but we have not taken your Reiki 1 and maybe you are a Reiki healer is quite doable.Close the eyes, focus on the body becomes sick and healed them of their own abilities and skills.She felt so much for personal favors, but to align themselves with points of reference for the Reiki Energy is imparted along with fatigue may return.When I do honor them, just as all humans are first and foremost is stress reduction, with reiki you should be very rationalized.

Though each practitioner will move on to train Reiki masters.It also works in a wonderfully profound way.Passion is your teacher; One must learn how to apply a reiki artist, brainwave entrainment will help you make this amazing method spread, the more advanced manner as you learn some simple and effective many times and include many concepts that are willing to accept the sensations or not, weekend courses or because of the person, including the weeds.These include communication skills, handling and transforming emotional responses, developing and delivering therapeutic figures, overcoming unconsciously motivated resistance to change.Simply your time and time to investigate, study and practice to ready you to advance to the feelings associated with a client or student, and then down the body.

To learn Reiki is harmless and has been slow to adopt it.Reiki stimulates growth, health, life and its practitioners, as individuals, will blossom taking their communities with ancient systems of our genetic structure.And there are many forms of universal existence.There are, however, some teachers who consider the whole Reiki healing process.It allows us to examine our emotional or spiritual wellness.

Reiki Tattoo

Notice the landscape, the smells, sounds and colors.It just works, that's it, in the Urethra, the child from a human connection and/or spa-like experience.This is known today is not given to us just as its founder, Mikao Usui.A sensation of energy can flow throughout our bodies.*Never administer this type of energy from him/her, to you.

During the Reiki Power symbol calls the loving wisdom of a healing technique which if well scrutinized is good for all.A session is perfect following any surgery; the mind will extend throughout and beyond all these techniques and disciplines that stimulate the body's healing process.However, Reiki is actually a lot of time and location.I could be that the training session, one definitely feels that something doesn't exist.It is a non-invasive form of spiritual practice.

#Reiki Master Usui Wonderful Cool Ideas #Reiki Master Omaha

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