#everyone is entitled to their opinion of course. i fully get that it's just uncomfortable for some people

[purpurussy]

can i just say something potentially controversial yet brave for a second

i really do not understand why there is a problem with people posting their little dangender memes 😬 like as long as it's confined to its own corner of tumblr, why is it a problem for people to project onto their fav internet microcelebrity? isn't that what everyone here is doing to some extent at the end of the day?

now if people were tagging him, trying to bring this to his attention, or god forbid confronting him with this stuff in a live setting/m&g or whatever then yeah, that would be deeply inappropriate and crossing a line. but i honestly dont get why it's an issue if youre just saying whatever's in your heart on your little tumblr blog, and dan would have to go out of his way lurking to find these posts.

i think maybe this has to do with me being new in this space again, like i wasn't there during the speculation era of the mid 2010s so maybe that's why i don't get the controversy? i just don't understand why there's now this sort of double standard. like why is it universally considered okay to get excited about a phan hard launch on here, but getting excited about dan talking more openly about gender gets you anon hate? i really don't understand this im sorry it might be because im lacking the history here but idgi.

i think if someone just personally isnt interested in all this stuff that's completely fine! i absolutely understand that for some people it's just not interesting/something that they're not comfortable with. but like it's not hard to curate your experience on this platform. i do not see how any of this is a problem. instead of sending people anon hate perhaps consider that it's not that serious and you can just block/block tags/unfollow and move on <3

personally tho i think it's fun that people are celebrating his "formless blob"-ness and seeing themselves in him. also this is dan and phil tumblr lmao we are all cringe here

#this is mainly about ppl getting so worked up that they felt the need to send anon hate to certain accounts btw #not any individuals in particular #everyone is entitled to their opinion of course. i fully get that it's just uncomfortable for some people #but there's no need to be getting aggressive about it #im not generally a proponent of the “let people have fun” mentality because im a fan of critical thinking lmao #but like fr i just honestly dont get why it's a problem. idk #wondered if i should post this in the tags but i think it can just die as a 0 note flop #since i dont want to get into any kind of debate here. just wanted to say what i have to say #actually i changed my mind lol it's going in the phan tag #phan #mine

[bambi-kinos]

Hey, I am different nonny, just in case, and I really love your analysis, just wanted to bring up a slightly different opinion.

I don't think we can take everything Danny Laine said as a concrete truth. The reason I say this is because depending on who was closer to who in Paul & Linda relationship when they were scorned - the takes on their relationship greatly differed. I've seen tons of things about Linda being calculating and relentless, stalking Paul from 1967 until she got him. Linda controlling who had access to Paul in entertainment circles, especially the women near him. Linda hating Jane, to the point described in this quote "when Linda came on the scene she made sure that all his old pals that knew and liked Jane were excluded" from Barry Miles. JoJo Laine, Danny's ex-wife, also said Linda was jealous of Jane, hated Linda in general and even claimed that Linda tried to seduce Danny, while Linda hated her to bits in return.

Another thing that immediately comes to mind is an account from Dave Spinozza, who pretty much just wanted to get into Paul's pants, and he framed his firing like this: "we sort of had a falling out. I had a little bit of, actually not with him, I had a little falling out with Linda and it just didn’t work out". He fully blamed Linda for it, even though Paul was uncomfortable with him.

And of course, I am sure Paul had his domineering moments more than enough, arguing about Linda doing stuff he didn't like, but to me, it seems their relationship was on way more equal footing and Linda could hold her ground.

RIP to Denny Laine but he was a fuckboy and I imagine that a lot of the shit he said was out of spite. I absolutely believe that he would lie on purpose or that he misunderstood what was happening in front of him. Denny Laine is still one of the guys who almost murdered Paul and Linda by piloting an airplane while stoned:

Another, far more serious incident [on the 1976 Wings tour] caused Paul’s anger to explode. In flight, inebriated members of the band and entourage would sometimes enter the cockpit and hang out and chat with the laid-back Texan pilots charged with handling the tour plane. On one occasion, trumpeter Steve Howard, holder of a pilot’s license for smaller aircraft, was given a turn at the controls of the jet, acquitting himself admirably. Denny Laine, at the time perhaps worryingly reading a book entitled Anyone Can Fly, was also given a go in the pilot’s chair. After a few minutes, the real flight crew’s attentions having drifted, a call came through from air traffic control warning them that the plane was cruising several thousand feet below its agreed-upon altitude. According to Laine, “When you take anything off automatic pilot, it goes all over the place for a moment or two.” During another flight, one member of the miles-high party—reports differ as to the identity of the culprit—sent the plane into a dive, throwing everyone around the cabin. It was at this point that a furious McCartney discovered that, for some weeks, drunken members of his group had been taking turns flying the plane, with his wife and children on board. Never the most comfortable flier, Paul blew his top. From here on in, everyone in the touring party was banned from the cockpit. “Which is fair enough,” Howie Casey notes. “Even though I was pissed, I’d think, No, that’s silly.”

Man on the Run, Tom Doyle

To help relieve the tedium of the road, individual band members would often sneak off into the cockpit for a quick turn at the wheel, on one occasion sending the deluxe, specially equipped aircraft into a tailspin. McCartney, who had been playing cards with Linda and a couple of the road crew at the back of the aircraft, ended up in a very unhappy heap in the center aisle, screaming bloody blue murder at the highflying, spaced-out pranksters. Laine, who himself had a go, was piloting the plane on the basis of a book he was then reading called Anyone Can Fly, later the title of one of his most interesting solo albums. He comments: “When you take anything off automatic pilot it goes all over the place for a moment or two. At one point, Steve [the brass player] took the plane into a terrible dive, sending everybody at the back flying inside the plane. . . . Paul was very pissed off about that, yeah. Then he found out we'd all been flying for weeks. His bottle went, as they say.”

Blackbird: The Life and Times of Paul McCartney, Geoffrey Giuliano

(quotes from sounwise)

So whenever you read a quote from Denny where he whinges about Paul not ~letting him in~ after all those years in Wings, remember these quotes lmao.

I regard reports of Paul and Linda's marriage the same way I regard John and Yoko's marriage: the qualities that keep rising to the top are the ones that are true. Paul and Linda had a good marriage IMO, it's just that there's also signs that Paul's weirdness about money and his baggage meant that he could lose his temper and that he tried to push Linda around at times. I read Mccartney Legacy Vol 1 last year and that went into some detail about Paul's impatience with Linda's keyboarding skills. When Linda was trying to publish a book Paul is the who allegedly stopped it because he didn't like Linda having the spotlight. There's reports from the guy (surname Cox) who was co-writing a cookbook with Linda that there was tension around it and that he believed it was because Paul did not like Linda getting attention or that Paul was scared she wouldn't be there for him if she was doing something else.

If it was just Denny on his own saying this stuff I'd be more skeptical but he's not the only one.

When I say stuff like "Paul was difficult" or "Linda's marriage was fraught" that's what I'm thinking of. Paul is difficult to be married to (something he's admitted to with the embarrassed feet shuffling he does when he talks about his trad fetish) and Linda herself had a strong personality. It's natural for there to be conflict sometimes.

We also have lots of stories about what a solid couple Paul and Linda were and I think those were true too. Paul is a good father and he stuck it out with Linda when she was dying of cancer, something that can get men to split from a partnership. Like, it's obvious that they cared about each other and they liked being together. If Linda was planning to leave Paul then it was because she wanted to do something else and not be "Paul's wife" forever.

There's always some push/pull in a relationship. Sometimes Linda had to make some sacrifices for Paul's sake. Paul made some sacrifices for Linda too, publicly being a wifeguy when it meant taking a knock to his image and making him an even riskier prospect for anyone wanting to sign him. It wasn't a one sided relationship and it wasn't abusive. It's just that there's a possibility that they ran out the clock on their relationship and Paul's baggage didn't make that relationship easy in the first place.

#talktalktalk #paul mccartney #linda eastman #typed this out on my phone in the brave browser so here we go #beatles meta #my meta

[mbti-notes]

Hi mbti notes, I’m an ENTJ having issues with a superior at work and would appreciate your perspective. I find myself reacting with anger to a lot of her decisions, more than just frustration at what I consider to be bad policy changes. I try to stay polite in the moment but I recently had to rant about her to trusted friends. I am not the sort of person to hold grudges, so this is a weird and bad feeling for me. I think it is because her decisions are just plain mean and I have no way to argue against them since they arent necessarily irrational or illogical. They will save the business money, but I feel uncomfortable with them (being vague for privacy). No one else working there seems to be bothered so I wonder if I am more angry than I should be, though my friends agreed it sounded unnecessarily mean. I guess my question is how to deal with authority you disagree with without going straight to confrontation. And also why my anger feels so out of proportion. Thank you

You are entitled to your opinions and your feelings are valid. Feelings and emotions reveal important truths, which is why accounting for them is necessary for good decision-making and denying them can be harmful. Feelings and emotions become disruptive or unhealthy when you aren't able to acknowledge them, understand them, process them, and use them to enhance your existence - these are all important elements of emotional intelligence.

Anger is an indication of significant injury or brokenness. Whenever you encounter an unfair, unjust, or unethical situation, anger is the appropriate response to the relationship fracture, the betrayal of trust, and/or the damage done to the victims. Without anger, humans wouldn't have the motivation to rectify/prevent problematic social situations. When you don't address these problems properly, the social environment easily becomes toxic and harmful to everyone.

Anger is a very strong and draining emotion because it's meant to quickly spur action that stops/prevents harm. Where people often get confused is they experience all this anger burning inside themselves and they have no idea how to handle it or where to channel it. Some people can't handle the intensity and repress it, only to have it pop back out in destructive ways. Some people get consumed and express it, which only fans the flames of an already tense situation. Are there alternatives to repressing or expressing?

To handle feelings and emotions wisely:

Take them. Accept them. Allow yourself to feel them fully.

Listen to them and hear what they're telling you to do.

Try to look at the situation from different perspectives in order to prevent yourself from getting too biased in judgment.

Pause and tap into your better self to determine what the best course of action is.

Moral problems aren't black-and-white most of the time. Complex moral problems do not have perfect solutions, which is why they are difficult to reason through and resolve. No matter what, someone's going to lose something, so all you can do is try to minimize the losses by carefully considering several possible outcomes, i.e., use Ni to visualize the best possible course of events.

In your case, there seems to be three separate issues to address:

1) The Merits of the Decision: By putting yourself in the company's position, you are able to acknowledge that the decision was advantageous, so you have no logical grounds to counter it. Okay.

But keep in mind that such decisions are never perfectly justified. They are usually based on some data as well as some underlying value judgments. Perhaps a different manager/executive would've looked at that data and made a different decision based on a different set of values. The devil is in the details. Expose the details of the decision-making process and you may find grounds for objection.

For example, although it was an "advantageous" decision for the company, was it absolutely "necessary" to decide in that particular way? Asking this kind of question changes the angle and opens up a different avenue of inquiry. Of course, you might not be in a position to answer the question. But you asked for perspective, so that's one alternative way to approach the argument.

2) The Ethics of the Decision: You take issue with the manner in which the policy change was communicated or implemented ("sounded unnecessarily mean"). You pin the blame on a particular superior. How you handle this depends on what your ultimate goal is.

E.g. If your end goal is to get the policy amended, then you'll have to speak with the people who have the power to change it and convince them with compelling arguments. If your end goal is to get this superior to communicate better, then you'll have to determine whether she'd be open to feedback and come up with a constructive way to deliver the criticism to her (i.e. without blaming and shaming). If your end goal is to alleviate the suffering of the people who will be most impacted by this policy change, then ignore the superior and deal directly with the victims.

3) The Power Differential: You are constrained by the rules and norms of a superior/subordinate relationship. To continue point #2, you have to determine what your end goal should be, but what you set as your end goal is largely determined by how much influence you have over the situation. Since I don't know your status in the company, I can't make any judgments on this matter.

Even when you don't have the power to influence the higher-ups or make big sweeping structural change, doing so-called "smaller" things to alleviate suffering is also very important for mending injury or brokenness. This would be a positive, constructive, and ethical way to channel and release anger. Even venting about the problem with colleagues can be productive, if it leads to greater unity among staff for pushing back against future injury. From anger's perspective, it's better to do something, even in part, to right a wrong than just do nothing and submit to it.

#entj #auxiliary ni #workplace #conflict #anger #emotional intelligence #ask

[commonwealthoccurences]

Companion HCs: Adopting Shy!Teenager!Sole

Note: Sole is 13-14 in this, therefor it’s completely platonic! I’m disturbed that’s something I have to clarify but I’ve been on Tumblr long enough that I’ve Seen Some Nonsense. 

Cait:

She may not have her shit together at first but she’s determined to be the best parent possible and give Sole everything her parents never gave her

She takes things slow when it comes to getting them to open up and tries to moderate her tone and temper; asks them simple questions to get to know them and tells stories to them (PG ones, of course)

Ferociously protective. If anyone, and I mean anyone, comes near them with ill-intent she flies off the handle.

And maybe part of that’s her projecting the fact that she wished someone protected her when she was young, but she also simply never wants them to feel scared or upset or as if she won’t protect them

Gets them something to keep with them so she’s always with them, even when she has to go somewhere and they stay in Sanctuary, like matching hats or little charms she might’ve scavenged from a collapsed store

Hancock calls Cait mama bear when she flies off the handle at Flynn (rightfully so. Hancock tells Sole to turn away and takes care of that problem like he does canonically)

Cait starts calling Sole little bear after that

Teaches them how to defend themself right away; she never wants them to feel powerless if she’s not around

Cleans herself up to better herself for them; she absolutely refuses to turn out like her parents and therefor goes cold turkey from alcohol and chems

It’s hard as fuck, but Sanctuary comes together to support her

Cries when they tell her they love her and call her mom the first time

Also teaches Dogmeat commands for intimidation so if Sole’s alone they have someone else to be intimidating

Sole definitely grows up with a bit of a take-no-shit attitude. They also know their worth and won’t be walked over

Curie:

Delighted to help out Sole

She definitely tries to get them interested in the sciences, but if they aren’t, that’s okay

Initially she goes on walks with them around Sanctuary and asks them questions about what they like

Picks flowers with them and teaches them how to dry/preserve them

She deals quite well with their shy silence and doesn’t try to start conversations too often; she tells stories without expecting responses and makes sure to subtly encourage any talking by showing great interest

Teaches them French, which comes in handy when they’re in Diamond City or Goodneighbor and they need to let her know they’re anxious or uncomfortable

As soon as they let her know what will soothe their anxiety around other people, she does it without hesitation (buying stuff for them, etc)

They have their own little house in Sanctuary together with a small garden

She teaches them the scientific names of the flowers and what they need and gets them a journal to write everything down; loves encouraging their curiosity and gets excited when they ask questions about anything

As soon as they show an interest in something she throws herself into it with them

Tells dad jokes but doesn’t know they’re kind of terrible; Deacon encourages this and fully enjoys the looks on Sole’s face

Deacon’s the fun, loud uncle

Lots of hugs from Curie as long as Sole’s okay with it, she’s very physically affectionate

Danse:

Kind of a stereotypical dad in the fact that he doesn’t really do great at verbal affection but their trays are always loaded with food and they always have something once they show interest in it

Can vibe with the shyness. He’s quiet, they’re quiet, and he finds no reason to try and get some conversation out of them

They can both be quite awkward but it’s fine

Not great with physical affection either

If they show interest in repairing armor or guns or shooting he’s through the roof with excitement

Constantly glaring at everyone who looks at them even a little bit sideways

Honestly has scared the shit out of some people just by his expression

Builds them their own size-scaled power armor

If they gift him something, even if it’s just wildflowers they found, he accepts it quietly and once they leave he cries

If they call him dad he also cries quietly

“There’s just something in my eye.”

Desperately wants to be a good parent and is kind of insecure about it

Has check ins with them where they have a healthy discussion about if he’s upset them in some way or if they’d prefer he deals with something differently

The first time they travel on their own he’s worried out of his mind, as if he didn’t raise a soldier of a kid (not in a bad way, but they’re more skilled at self defense than most adults)

Sole probably inherits a rbf from him

Deacon:

The fun parent

He can be serious though

In the beginning he tries to overcompensate for their quietness by being his loud, bombastic self

When that doesn’t seem to work he gets the memo and tones it down and relaxes

Honestly they get to see the “real” Deacon pretty soon

He’s naturally joking and loud, however he doesn’t relax and just exist with someone very often

That’s what he does with sole, though, and they open up more after that

Unfortunately they’re exposed to the things the Railroad deal with quite early on, and the shit that goes with the Institute

He makes sure they’re capable of defending themself but it’s quite scary to know that an organization wants your family dead

He makes sure to reassure them that nothing will ever happen to either of them

When they start to open up more he allows himself to act more like he does with the Railroad around them

Takes them on fun disguise runs

They’ll come to realize that they’re low profile stake out missions, and he just didn’t want to leave them behind

Always makes sure they eat first; he’s dealt with food insecurity before himself and part of his protective nature is making sure they know he’ll do everything in his power to make sure they never experience that

Matching sunglasses? Absolutely.

BEAMS when they call him dad

Gage:

Probably the most reluctant parent out of all of them, to be honest

The raider lifestyle is the worst nightmare for a child; for a week he tries balancing things, since it’s all he’s known, but he very quickly gets them out of that situation

Changes their appearances and moves into Sanctuary. Preston’s suspicious when he avoids talking about his past but accepts them

He’s also extremely quiet around the new settlement, so they’re a matching pair

As protective as Cait, that’s for damn sure

Asks them questions quite often to make sure they’re okay: “Did you get enough to eat, kiddo?” “Those boots fit okay?” “Are you warm enough?” “She didn’t bother you, did she?” “Are you tired?”

Doesn’t take offense or try to pry when they give one word answers; he gets it

Not much for physical affection either but if they seek it out he gives and reassures them they’re not bothering him. If they hug him he pats them on the back and says “Thanks for the hug, kid.”

His first gift to them is a gun and knife

He means well

If they call him dad he will get emotional but doesn’t cry

Will cry years later when he thinks back on it; they’ve softened him up somewhat

Encourages them to hang out with Preston and learn about the Minutemen. It’s valuable experience and while he and Preston aren’t exactly friends they respect each other and he knows that them knowing him will be a good experience for them

Reluctant when they find Dogmeat but lets them keep him when they ask; they don’t ask for much and it’s never something ridiculous

Fondly refers to him as a mutt

Eventually ends every night by giving them a sideways hug and kissing them on the top of the head. “Goodnight, kid. See you in the morning.” Before they head to bed

Hancock:

Initially a disaster parent

He has no idea what he’s doing and his lifestyle isn’t set up for bringing in a kid

He cleans up pretty quickly. He doesn’t use drugs if they’re around, but he continues smoking cigarettes.

Seeks out Nick for advice

Sets them up with their own room and makes sure when they ask for something he jumps to get it; not to the point where they become entitled and spoiled but God he wants them to be happy and know he cares

Makes sure to enforce that you respect everyone unless they disrespect you, no matter where they come from

Everyone in Goodneighbor makes sure their drug use and drinking is done out of sight of Sole; their usage is their business but Hancock won’t accept them being a bad influence

Eventually almost everyone in Goodneighbor knows and takes care of Sole affectionately. They respect Hancock and respect Sole equally

They started referring to Sole as the Boss as a joke on Hancock, but Hancock, after laughing his ass off, agrees and the nickname becomes permanent

Once again, Sole grows up the opposite of entitled; they’re very hard working and respectful and that’s why Goodneighbor loves them so much

Hancock gifts them a necklace; it’s a wide circle, about the size of an American dollar coin, with a cutting of the fabric from his coat in the center, sewn tightly around the circle.

Eventually he introduces them to what it’s like to run Goodneighbor and involves them in the decision making

MacCready:

Another kid? Done.

He knows there’s a lot of kids out there he can’t help and he takes Sole under his wing without hesitation

He hasn’t raised a teenager yet, but he treats them with respect and always asks their opinion and if they’re comfortable

Adds another bullet to his cap after a couple days

He’s worried their shyness is the result of trauma; there’s no way anyone in the Commonwealth doesn’t have it, but he hurts at the thought of them going through 

something particularly horrific

Doesn’t try to bust down their walls and get them to open up

Instead, he remains quiet and lets them come to him

Smiles to himself the first time they call him dad

Perfectly open to physical affection and is quite proud of them the first time they ask for a hug

Probably retreats back to the community where he left Duncan rather quickly

His merc work isn’t somewhere for a kid and he probably turns farmer once they find the cure for Duncan

The first time Sole and Duncan bond over something he’s sobbing internally (cries externally too)

Eventually brings both Duncan and Sole back to Sanctuary; he knows the community there is good to raise them

Farmer!Mac with two kids and a small house and a dog? Adorable

(everyone in sanctuary agrees)

Uncle Preston becomes a thing and that’s his official title to the kids

Mac and he become good friends; Mac’s fond of people with good, solid morals and once he hears what Preston did/does for the Minutemen and the people they protect? Respect +100

Nick:

Good with kids, straight up

He’s lived in Diamond City with kids running around all over the place for a while, so he knows how to talk to them

Just treats Sole with respect and expects nothing from them (affection wise) other than the same back

Tries to keep them out of detective work. It’s depressing and he wants something more wholesome for them, as wholesome as things can be in the Commonwealth

Considers moving to Sanctuary and includes them on that decision

Takes on less risky jobs, he’s got someone to care for now

Ellie adores Sole as well and eventually co-parents, and takes over parenting while Nick’s out; whether she and Nick are platonic or romantic in this situation is up to you

Nick comes back one day and she pulls him aside to tell him Sole called them their parents and they both get emotional

He takes care to note what their favorites are; color, food, etc

More than happy to adopt Dogmeat, especially since he proves to be a good protector

Is worried about the fact that he can’t be around all the time. He knows Ellie’s a good parent, but he wants to be there for everything and he simply can’t be

Does have a couple talks with Sole about this to make sure they know he’s not trying to get away from them and he loves them dearly

Tells them stories about funny cases to make them laugh when they’re upset

Blows up at McDonough if he steps a toe out of line in Sole’s direction; McDonough wouldn’t dare kick him out and he knows that, he brings too much business in

Piper:

She takes one look at Sole’s face and the adoption papers are already signed, she doesn’t hesitate a bit

Overcompensates for the awkward silence by talking a bit too much, but eventually figures out they probably feel weird about that

If they and Nat get along she’s elated

Nat honestly brings them out of their shell a bit and it’s not uncommon to see Piper shouting after Nat and Sole running off, yelling for them to be careful and be back before dark

Stays in Diamond City

Sometimes asks Ellie to babysit; they’re good friends and Nick and her get along quite well

Can get a bit heated if anyone is rude to the kids

She’ll fist fight McDonough without hesitation if she has to, she doesn’t care

Not much changes in her lifestyle, she raises them the same way she’s been raising Nat and does her best

Preston:

Fantastic with people, it’s part of his job

Takes on the role of parent readily despite his internal panic

Worries he won’t be good enough; he’s never taken care of kids full time, and he knows being a parent is vastly different than babysitting

Definitely instills Minutemen morals in Sole; he won’t tolerate intolerance

The first time they get sick he’s full of panic. It’s a simple cold, but he refuses to leave them alone for even a second

Relaxes a bit

He used to be out of bed and immediately dress, promptly returning to duty

Now he’s still prompt but he walks around in his pajamas more

Relaxed with physical affection but never initiates; he never wants to make them uncomfortable or make them feel like he’s trying to force himself into the parent category

If they call him dad he’s walking on clouds for the rest of the day; the fact that they think that highly of him??? Amazing

Worries he’s not good enough but when people compliment his parenting he figures he’s doing alright

Honestly complimenting his parenting is the best thing that can happen to him

X6-88:

???????

Who put him in charge of this human and what is he expected to do with them????

Fumbles hard at first

Consults the scientists (who I’ll assume put him in charge of them) and eventually picks things up on his own

Institute scientists make the mistake of trying to instill things he doesn’t approve of after he grows attached to them and cares more for them than the Institute

Suddenly they’re missing a synth and his teenager

He knows the Institute like the back of his hand; they won’t find him. Ever.

Takes them to Sanctuary when he hears the radio and seeks out Preston

He respects Preston and the way he protects everyone, considering he feels that way towards Sole, and eventually, far down the line they become friends and platonic co-parents

X6 parents ¾ of the time, but he often seeks Preston’s advice in the beginning

Doesn’t particularly care if they call him dad; they’re family either way

Definitely asks them about and takes interest in their interests

Just wants them to be happy

Considering they’re pretty much his only family, he’s very attached to them; not in an unhealthy way but as they get older they call each other their best friends

#fallout 4 #fo4 #headcanons #companions react #fluff #Cait #Curie #Deacon #Paladin Danse #Gage #Mayor Hancock #RJ MacCready #Nick Valentine #Piper #Preston Garvey #X6-88

[kiruuuuu]

Protection Mountain: The Finale⛰️

Yes. It is here.

Montagne/Bandit conquered my heart so quickly with what was meant to be a oneshot, then turned into a small series of oneshots, and ended up as my longest series in Siege. And now their main story is coming to an end. I would like to thank absolutely everyone who participated in this journey, be it through direct messages, magnificent art, shared ideas, comments, reblogs, likes, the simple act of reading and enjoying - you helped make this happen, you motivated and encouraged me. Thank you for falling into this bottomless hole with me 💖

A special thank you goes out to @ekhap, who commissioned this piece in the first place - without you, it’s likely I never would’ve written it. I’m so happy you enjoyed it, and I hope all of you who stuck around long enough to read this will too.

I have actually managed to post the entire series on AO3 as well, so you can comfortably read (or re-read) it here!! And without further ado, here is the final chapter of Protection Mountain. (Rating T/M, hurt/comfort + a ridiculous amount of fluff, ~8.5k words)

.

“I’m leaving tomorrow”, says Madeleine, voice soft and always a reprieve from the harsh reality of the hospital room around them. “I don’t think coming back will be necessary this time.”

Montagne squeezes her hand, making her smile.

She’s been juggling family and career for her entire life and right now is no different: on slower or off days, she hops on the train to visit, taking the opportunity to report on some local stories on the way, utilising her travel time to write up or edit her pieces. A busy bee, always worried about being overshadowed by her older brother. They haven’t seen each other this much for years and though the occasion could be merrier, Montagne is fiercely grateful for her presence. He’s unloaded some of his worries onto her and she onto him, and somehow they ended up lighter than before. Tourés tend to stick together, given the opportunity.

“Why do you say that?”

“You might not realise, but you’re looking much better, Gilles. You’ll be let loose on the world again soon.”

They exchange a quick grin over her choice of words. She’s certainly more of a menace to society than he is, and they both know it.

Next to her, Lion is sitting in a second chair, rigid. He’s confessed to Montagne in private that Madeleine reminds him of his mother – whatever that might entail – and so he’s unfailingly awkward around her, probably ruing the fact that they happened to drop by at the same time today. Dealing with strangers isn’t usually a problem for him; dealing with family of friends, however, is.

Apparently, Bandit won Madeleine over immediately, surprisingly enough. She says it’s his horrific German accent whenever he attempts to speak French and his deadpan humour, but Montagne is relatively sure she senses a bit of how much Bandit cares for him. Tourés are also protective of each other, siblings even more so. She wouldn’t have told him a thing about Montagne’s current condition if she hadn’t thought his worry genuine.

And then, out of the blue: “Cathérine called me.” She still sounds conversational, but her gaze becomes a tad more attentive.

Montagne stills.

Lion’s gaze is jumping back and forth between them, the man even more uncomfortable now.

It’s the last person he expected Madeleine to mention, so he needs a second to compose himself. “What about?” He tries to search for emotions, for any kind of reaction to encountering his wife’s – ex-wife’s name, but comes up empty. It’s like hearing about an old, lost friend of his: someone who once used to be important enough to be mentioned in his will, now someone who barely counts as a remnant in his thoughts.

“You, of course. Maman tattled and, eventually, it reached her. She wanted to know how you are and whether contacting you directly is a good idea.”

“And your reply?”

“I said I’d ask you.”

He nods, thankful. During their divorce, too many people presumed what would be best for either side instead of addressing them directly. It didn’t feel like their own private business anymore, somehow it affected everyone and so everyone was entitled to an opinion and a listening ear. He appreciates Madeleine allowing him this kind of control. “I don’t think she has my current number. Please give it to her and let her know I’d be happy to talk.”

And that’s that. They kiss cheeks and do a half-hug, exchange verbal pleasantries which are nonetheless heartfelt, and then she and her mild perfume are gone, leaving behind a slightly relieved-looking Lion.

“You do look a lot better, you know”, he confirms Madeleine’s earlier assessment, and though he seems intent on changing the topic – for him, family is still a sore topic most days –, Montagne’s mind lingers. Vague memories form a blurry whole, the image so distant it may well originate in a film he once saw or a book he once read.

Catou used to be his entire world and there were days he was convinced he couldn’t go on if she were to leave him. Yet time, the wound-healer, sometimes corrodes instead – and in their case, it must’ve mistaken their passion and devotion for sickness, for it cured them. They noticed before comfort turned into indifference, but only barely. By the time they decided on breaking up, another man was involved as well, though Montagne assigns him no blame whatsoever. Until their divorce was finalised, Catou kept her friend at arm’s length and he never even attempted to get any closer; but while she didn’t allow herself to fall in love again until Montagne openly gave his blessing, he could see the seeds growing already.

Neither of them cheated, he knows this for a fact. They’d never. He noticed how she became aware of the possibility of being with another man after a few of their long talks which denoted the beginning of the end, and while it hurt, he vowed not to stand in her way. If he couldn’t support her, he at least didn’t want to hinder her.

What hurt the most wasn’t any misguided feeling of betrayal or even jealousy, no. It was the realisation that he simply didn’t suffice. He gave her his everything and it turned out it wasn’t enough.

Maybe this is why he won’t accept Bandit’s proposal: the creeping fear of committing fully and finding it to have been in vain.

“You never spoke about her.” His friend has indubitably noticed his mood by now, or maybe the lack of response gave it away.

He supposes he hasn’t. Neither to Bandit nor to Lion, actually, not even when the topic had strayed to Claire and Alexis. “There isn’t much to say”, he summarises well over a decade of companionship, eroded and erased slowly by the very thing which tainted it in the first place: time apart. “We fell in and then out of love. She was a remarkable woman. She deserves someone who can keep up with her.”

Lion fidgets a little, avoids eye contact. Montagne’s words might’ve struck a chord but he’s too exhausted, too restless to talk it out. Madeleine’s statement has given him hope that he can leave soon, leave Bandit’s birthplace behind, hopefully to return and make happier memories in the future.

His friend’s next question catches him off guard. “Why did you marry her?”

It’s so much out of character for him to ask that Montagne needs a few seconds to come up with a reply. “I loved her, with all my heart. I expected to spend the rest of my life with her. Why do you -”

“Then why are you saying no to him?”

Montagne stares, shocked. The slight petulant undertone, the hint of defiance, the blunt accusation – Bandit himself could’ve posed the question, and it’s not for the first time Montagne realises how alike the two of them really are. But what leaves him utterly dumbstruck isn’t the implication of Lion approving of a marriage between them, no, it’s the fact that he can’t come up with a reasonable answer.

At least not one which doesn’t sound like an excuse.

He must’ve realised the impact his words have left behind, so Lion swiftly changes topics yet again, allowing for Montagne to recover and respond to a few simple inquiries, but nothing really manages to soften the blow.

.

~*~

.

There’s a reason he chose le Roc over more modern, flashier, possibly more efficient alternatives.

When he was younger, he used to hide his height by slouching, felt embarrassed by the fact that he’d stick out due to something he neither chose nor controlled – as a tall, muscular man, he’s perceived as intimidating or, worse, a challenge. He reacted to mentions of his physique with sheepish smiles and laughed it off when people referred to his ability to beat up whomever he liked, portraying it as enviable.

It took him a while until he began seeing his build as an advantage. It took friends confessing they felt safe with him around. Acquaintances appreciating his company during the dark. His soon-to-be wife admiring his drive to put his stature to good use. Ultimately, it influenced first impressions only, a quick glance upwards, but as soon as people heard him speak gently, noticed his aversion to unnecessary violence, be it verbal or otherwise, they forgot about his impressive physique immediately.

Like le Roc, it’s a shield. He utilises his own body to protect others and has subconsciously done so his entire life, be it to separate his little sister from her bullies, friends from aggressors, or even two agitated strangers: he absorbs the blows which to him are no more than light punches whereas they could cause more harm on their intended victims. He’s been likened to a mastiff and their instinctual drive to break up fights by simply standing in the way.

Like le Roc, it’s an asset. And like le Roc, it can get damaged.

What he hadn’t realised is just how much he relies on his body to function exactly the way he needs it to.

His life is his job, they’re irredeemably intertwined, and imagining one without the other is … nigh impossible. His mind struggles to come up with alternatives – helping others is in his essence, but picturing himself working in a nursing home maybe or a school, a community centre, is madness to him. Catou had been very involved in these kinds of projects, volunteered wherever there was a need, and while he saw the good she did, the joy she spread, she had a certain soft touch he simply lacks.

He’s a mountain. He can kill and besiege and protect and recover and rescue, but the thought of being responsible for children not his own, or the well-being of elderly people, terrifies him. A small mistake, a brief distraction could prove fatal. He’s trained for combat.

.

He needs to recover.

.

Sometimes, he wakes up and can’t feel his limbs. He hasn’t stood on his own two legs for who knows how long. Movement hurts, lying down hurts, existence hurts. But what hurts most is the prospect of never returning to the work he’s destined for.

No one is allowed to catch a glimpse of his frustration as he feels it’s ungrateful, possibly even malicious. Not only should he be elated over having survived at all, it would also imply he regrets having taken the actions he did, and nothing could be further from the truth. Saving Lion was inevitable; he just wishes he could’ve gotten away with less serious injuries. He wishes so fiercely. Bottling up his anger is destructive and being fully aware of how irrational his behaviour is merely continues the spiral of negativity, yet he’s powerless to change it. The people closest to him are still processing the shock of almost losing him and don’t need the added burden of his dread for his own future.

He wonders whether Bandit is repulsed by him. Aside from his atrophied muscles, he’s lost weight, there are the burns which will likely mark his body for the rest of his life, another ugly scar on one thigh where he’s been stitched up. His skin is discoloured in multiple places and he vividly remembers the way Madeleine winced when she visited him the first time. He already doesn’t consider himself overly attractive, so he must seem frightening. It doesn’t help that Bandit distanced himself the way he did at first – though it was likely the shock affecting him still.

Recently though, his lover has been doing much better. He’s been doing amazing, actually: when Bandit isn’t visiting him, he’s out and about, meeting with friends from the GSG9, eating at exotic restaurants, working out, keeping himself entertained. He keeps messaging Montagne, sending photos of dogs he meets or particularly tasty dishes they need to cook together (or rather attempt to), and every line of text lightens his heart. Bandit even keeps Six and Blitz up to date, informing Doc of Montagne’s condition unprompted, and converses with Madeleine as best he can. Of course, there are bad days sprinkled in now and then, days on which his gaze is endless and unfocused, days on which Bandit is either taciturn or won’t stop talking about unrelated things so Montagne can’t ask him how he’s doing. Recovery isn’t fast or linear, Montagne knows this.

He’s so goddamn proud nonetheless.

And even though seeing Bandit flourish, having watched him pick himself back up and carry on where he left off, witnessing the man he loves with all his heart succeed over this void in his chest once again causes Montagne’s chest to swell in pride and adoration, there’s a bitter note to it. An out-of-tune note, a scratchy, unpleasant one. Because Montagne believes he knows the reason for Bandit’s sudden motivation to improve his existence. And it’s not for its own sake, not for Bandit’s own benefit alone.

Montagne remembers stewing in his own thoughts, fighting the urge to call himself useless, agonising over what might become of him, and there’s no way Bandit didn’t catch him wiping his face when he burst into the room that one day a while back. He must’ve noticed how red Montagne’s eyes were, unusually red. He must’ve realised how fucking weak Montagne is. And probably decided it was his turn to take care of his love.

The next day, Bandit announced having joined a local gym for the time being, as well as his intention to watch a film by himself later. It can’t be a coincidence.

.

There’s nothing worse for Montagne than being a burden.

.

~*~

.

Bandit’s energy is enviable. It seems he’s attempted to prepare for every scenario imaginable: he’s washed all of Montagne’s clothes, bought a variety of snacks and pastries, piled magazines on the bedside table, purchased all kinds of toiletries and remedies including a remarkably well-stocked first aid kit, arranged lush-looking fruits on the small desk of their hotel room, and even produces ear plugs and a sleeping mask the moment Montagne mentions feeling vaguely tired.

It’s hard not to get swept up in the atmosphere his lover creates, especially when his own chest seems unusually light compared to the weeks prior – he’s elated to be discharged from the hospital, even if all kinds of other worries creep up on him during moments of quiet. Being able to return home is a wish he harboured without realising: he thought all he needed was distance from the very place that so consciously reminds him of his own frailty, but it turns out privacy and a new environment don’t suffice, not even close. Sharing a space with Bandit and Bandit only is an immense improvement, yet he longs to sleep in his own bed, feel like he belongs instead of being a perpetual guest. Still, he’s grateful for the spacious hotel room, some peace and quiet, and the assurance that no one is going to randomly check up on him anymore.

Except for Bandit, of course.

Maybe it was Madeleine’s comment which inspired him, or maybe he hadn’t realised how much he’d recuperated already, but once his sister had bidden farewell, his condition improved fast. It culminated two days ago, when Bandit entered his room to find him awkwardly holding on to the bed frame but standing, fully upright with no outside help, due to his own strength. He half expected to be scolded, though his weakness must’ve taken its toll on Bandit as well because all he did was burst into tears from happiness.

Montagne very nearly joined in.

Six arranged a flight directly once she received the message, paid for a wheelchair without batting an eye and ordered him to take it easy nonetheless. His leg will take a while to heal and the broken ribs forbid the use of crutches, so Montagne dutifully agreed and thought he could hear her smiling over the phone. He missed her curt, professional yet caring attitude, and it seemed she’d be glad to see him again as well.

All of which is why he’s allowed to spend his last night in Germany’s capital in the very same hotel room he occupied before it all fell apart. The life before tastes like honey, sweet and much too rich, thick in his throat and welding his mouth shut: how much he took his health for granted baffles him. How careless he was. How ungrateful. He longs to get back to lazy evenings with an oversized cat purring on his chest, to the chaos of messing up yet another recipe, their light-hearted bickering, not a care in the world. He’s desperate to return to it, without that creeping feeling of guilt over turning Bandit down for a mixture of sentimental, inadequate reasons he can’t even explain to himself. He lacks the words to express why the image of swapping rings or – heaven forbid – inviting his entire family to a big ceremony fills him with nothing but dread when instead he should be exuberant. Flattered, maybe.

“Do you want to shower?”

Bandit reminds him of a puppy, easily distractible and well-meaning, radiating pent-up energy. Montagne regrets having to refuse him anything. “No, I’d rather just read a bit and sleep. I can shower at home tomorrow.”

His lover very nearly pouts. “Are you saying I have to find another excuse to touch you all over?”

Montagne’s chuckle almost gets stuck in his throat. He’s not ready yet and has been racking his brain for reasons why they can’t sleep in the same bed, or why he won’t be able to undress at any point. He’ll have to deal with this eventually, but his foolish mind has convinced him he’ll be able to postpone it indefinitely if only he manages to use his injuries as a pretext.

If he wasn’t so fucking terrified, he’d call himself childish.

There’s no doubt Bandit has made an effort to tidy up the room, yet there are unmistakeable traces of his prolonged stay everywhere – the overflowing suitcase, tissues poking out from under furniture, too many cables for too many electronic devices carelessly strewn about. Housekeeping probably gave up after two weeks and resigned to only vacuum wherever possible and change the bedsheets, and the thought of exasperated staff dealing with the stubborn git he missed like hell makes him smile. He’s heard stories from various nurses and highly enjoyed Bandit’s redemption arc of starting out as a nightmare and turning into the highlight of their days. If he saw correctly, Bandit even bought them flowers. He must be very proud of his newly discovered move to weaken grudges.

“Wanna get on the bed?”, Bandit interrupts his thoughts a little too casually, so Montagne eyes him with suspicion.

“Do you want me to get on the bed?”

His better half purses his lips, probably considering whether it’s worth pretending like he has no idea what Montagne means (and oh, he hasn’t even considered this prospect, they’ll be finally alone and undisturbed, and despite his aversion to show any part of his skin, his body expresses some interest in the scenario) – but Bandit still manages to surprise him by muttering, almost embarrassed: “I just really want to cuddle right now.”

It’s disarmingly adorable, and Montagne’s heart melts. “Let’s do it, then”, he agrees. There’s some awkwardness in manoeuvring him out of the wheelchair and onto the much-too-soft mattress, but Bandit is stronger than he looks and able to provide enough support. As soon as Montagne sinks into the plushy pillows and Bandit presses himself against his side, all tension suddenly vanishes: his muscles relax, his thoughts calm down, his skin stops prickling. He hadn’t been aware how much he missed simple contact like this, the heat of another body against his own, the blissful feeling of being safe, being home, being loved.

This tiny bubble of everyday life suffices to soothe his cracked soul. He wishes he could wrap around Bandit fully, envelop him whole, drag him onto his chest, pull him into his arms – even offering his shoulder for Bandit’s head to rest on would help with his burning desire to be as close to him as possible, but for the moment he can’t. Not without considerable pain. Still, Bandit’s hand has slid into his, their fingers interlaced, and a gentle, regular breath caresses his cheek. Now and then, Bandit nuzzles him, presses a kiss to his cheek, sighs in contentment. They could stay like this for eternity.

And yet, Montagne’s guilt prohibits him from letting go completely. He has rejected this man. Refused to accept him into his life fully.

“If you wanna watch something, I pirated eleven films we haven’t seen”, Bandit murmurs against his jaw and makes him chuckle.

“I remember the hotel’s internet being unreliable. Don’t tell me you used public Wi-Fi? Mark would be horrified.”

“Yeah sure, I just sat down in the nearest McDonald’s and downloaded a hundred gigs of illegal stuff.” Bandit’s grin is boyish and attractive and so cute Montagne just wants to burn the image into his brain. “Better, actually – I asked one of the boys to do it. So we conspired together.”

“Are you going to miss them?”

Bandit thinks about it and eventually shrugs his shoulders. “Sure. It was nice seeing them again. But I think I miss everyone at Rainbow more. I haven’t been apart from everyone this long… ever, I think. Since I joined.” There’s more on his mind, Montagne can tell, so he waits and peeks down at the dirty blonde hair, the wild beard. Apparently Bandit decided shaving was too much of a hassle, so he gave up on it completely for the time being – and Montagne wholeheartedly understands. If he could grow one, he definitely wouldn’t be running around with naked cheeks.

After a while, Bandit adds, quietly: “I did visit Cedrick.”

Montagne wants to smack himself. How could he forget that Bandit’s twin still lives in Berlin? And while he’s proud of Bandit for taking the initiative and seeing him of his own accord, Montagne feels that he himself could’ve raised the possibility sooner. He knows they’re close, as close as any family member could ever hope to be with someone as fickle as Bandit, and he probably would’ve done wonders for Bandit’s psyche. “How is he? How is his family?”

“Good. They’re good. Gave me too much food, as usual. His wife got a promotion recently and the boys are doing great in school. They want to go to university later, imagine that. The first Brunsmeiers to go to uni.” Bandit glances up at him. “I also told them about you.”

There it is. He must’ve been dying to tell Montagne, judging by his pink cheeks and nervous fidgeting, and his demeanour as much as his words conjure up a bright smile on Montagne’s face. They had an unspoken agreement, an implied promise that they wouldn’t tell their families until they’re ready, which meant until Bandit was ready – coming out to friends was a big step, coming out to Rainbow a massive hurdle, and coming out to his family must’ve been a mountain to climb. His comfort zone has been steadily expanding, yet actions like these still turn Bandit into a skittish cat sometimes.

For someone with commitment issues like this, it’s incredible that Bandit decided for them to get married.

“Dom, mon amour, I am so proud of you.” He kisses Bandit’s temple and smiles even wider at his desperately dismissive mumbled reply of ‘’s nothing’. “That is wonderful news. How did they react?”

“Well, they wanted to meet you immediately.”

Yet they didn’t. Montagne’s smile fades a little. Did Bandit not want anyone to see him like this? Best case scenario, he figured that Montagne’s current state simply wouldn’t do him justice, and worst case… Would he be ashamed of him?

“But obviously, that didn’t work out, so I told them -”

“Why didn’t it?”

He must’ve noticed something, maybe an odd expression, because he reassures him instantly: “My love, I saw them yesterday evening. You’ll meet them soon enough, trust me. They were very supportive, in any case. I think Ced is just glad to know there’s at least one person out there who can tame me.” Bandit’s hand brushes over Montagne’s belly, toying with the hem of his shirt, and he puts his own over it.

Maybe he’s being dramatic. Thinking about it, his recent thought spirals followed a similar pattern to the dangerous ones Bandit entertains much too often, the ones Montagne has been trying to interrupt whenever he notices them. Except that Bandit can’t read minds as of yet and probably has no idea what’s going on with him, and how should he. Montagne hasn’t said a word. They haven’t mentioned their brief engagement, or whatever the fuck was going on for a bit, at all.

Maybe when Montagne said that he was worried about losing Bandit, he didn’t just mean Bandit’s own withdrawal from their relationship.

“I don’t like that you see me like this.”

Bandit reacts not, doesn’t glance upwards, but there’s a tightening of his half-embrace. He’s listening.

“I can’t stand it, in fact. I feel useless and powerless and I can tell it weighs you down as well.” Once he’s started speaking, the words nearly tumble out of his mouth by themselves, one by one does the truth finally spill over. “I’m sorry. You’re trying so hard, mon cœur, I know you’re trying so hard to be strong for me, and I love you for it, but… I don’t want this. I don’t want to be like this. I should be the one there for you.” His heart is heavy, his mind darkened and his eyes burning, threatening tears as evidence of his own fragility. Rarely do his emotions get the better of him yet his self-control is raw and worn out from too much use without a chance to replenish. “I know I should be grateful I survived, but I feel like an annoyance. I don’t even know if I can go back to Rainbow, I don’t know whether I’ll fully heal and I hate it.”

Before he can feel guilty for loading even more onto Bandit’s shoulders, his love cradles his head in surprisingly warm hands, whispers his name and puts their foreheads together. “It’s okay”, Bandit mutters, even though both of them know it isn’t, “Gilles, stop. It’s okay. Listen to me.”

Montagne expects platitudes and white lies, misplaced optimism, a few phrases people throw out and pat themselves on the back for consoling someone, but instead, Bandit says: “Look. All of this fucking sucks.”

Well. It sure does. Montagne frowns.

“I’ve been in the hospital before, I was injured pretty badly and felt less worthy than a sack of potatoes, believe me. I was hardly myself, I couldn’t sleep, the constant pain was horrendous and on top of that, all the pretty nurses were talking smack -”

This startles a small huff of amusement out of him and effectively interrupts his intrusive thoughts. “Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better?”

“- I’m getting to that part. But you probably know how degrading it is when you can’t even piss by yourself, right? That’s the fucking worst. You’re like a baby, and you definitely feel just as stupid. It was one of the worst months of my entire life. But you know what? I got better.”

Ah. There we go. Montagne’s mouth goes thin.

“No, I know what you’re thinking: empty promises. You don’t understand how true it is, though. I’ve been rock bottom a few times, but it gets better. You’ve been there for it, so you know what I mean. And don’t even think for a second that each rock bottom was the same level, no, there were times when everything seemed hopeless, but honestly? Each time, it got a little easier to get back out. To get out and get to a better level than before. My parents…” He catches himself and shakes his head a little. “I don’t wanna keep talking about me right now.”

Montagne nudges him. “Please do. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

A deep breath later, Bandit continues: “My parents valued independence highly, so Ced and I were encouraged to help ourselves, which I suppose is a good thing. But it also taught us to not rely on anybody else. To not expect any safety nets: you fall, that’s it. Convincing yourself it’s worthwhile to go on after you’ve fallen was hard. I felt like I failed at life, and for a bit, giving up was the better alternative. But I did have a safety net after all: Ced did his part, a few friends did, my boss, too. So it worked out.”

“But you got worse again”, Montagne mutters.

“Yes. I got worse. Still, by then I knew not only that it was possible to get back out, but also that others would help. Miles away from asking for help, mind you, but with more hope. I kept learning. And…” Despite his reluctance to go on, Montagne remains quiet and waits. Some part of him realises it’s something Bandit has to say. “And… as horrible as that sounds, as much as I don’t even want to imagine it… I think I’m at the point where I could go on without you. If you didn’t – didn’t make it, for example, I could… I think I could. The beginning would be the absolute fucking worst, no doubt, but I’d find something to – to make it worth it. To continue.”

Wordlessly, Montagne drags him into a bear hug. Presses their bodies even tighter together, ignoring the stabs of pain in his side, ignoring all his muscles protesting, ignoring the uncomfortable weight against his injured ribcage. He just needs this man like air all of a sudden, and it seems impossible to him how he could’ve ever rejected him in anything.

He knows exactly what Bandit means. It might be put in a morbid way, but he’s trying to express just how much Montagne has helped him. Comparing this version of him with the fragile creature he once warmed in his arms is unthinkable; this Bandit isn’t vulnerable anymore. And though he was hit hard by Montagne’s near-death, he ended up recovering, largely due to his own strength. A few years ago, he would’ve reacted very differently to nearly losing a loved one, that much is certain.

Bandit is clinging to him as well, taking measured breaths against his jaw and hiding his face. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know”, he whispers, voice cracking. “And even if you lost all your limbs or your eyesight or what the fuck ever, you’d still be you. You’d still be as great as you were before. That’s a fact, you dumbass. And if you can’t do Rainbow anymore, you’ll open a stupid dog café in Marseilles or sell Fairtrade products in a corner shop, I don’t bloody know. All I know is that you shouldn’t listen to that irritating voice in your head because it has absolutely no fucking idea what it’s talking about.”

By now, Montagne is chuckling and crying at the same time, overcome by too many emotions to be able to process any of them. It feels like he was allowed a deeper look in Bandit’s workings, like he’s able to understand him a little better. More importantly, he does feel significantly less stupid now that he knows Bandit is familiar with thoughts like these and already opened himself up about them.

“I’m also worried you’d be put off by all my injuries”, he admits after a while of comforting physical contact, feeling much more confident in himself and assured they can actually talk things out.

His better half lifts his head to squint at him in confusion. “Put off…? Like, grossed out? This is nothing, I once had someone in my arms whose guts were – wait, you don’t mean that I’d find you unattractive, do you?”

Montagne eyes his love for a moment, the man whose knees get weak whenever Montagne whispers a single filthy word in his ear, the man who has admitted to having more wet dreams about him than he’d like, the very man who so valiantly held himself back until Montagne allowed him to let loose, and who has never held back since. The man Montagne missed every lonely second he spent without him over the past weeks. “Well, I’d hope not”, he mutters.

Bandit looks at him like he grew two heads. “Are you serious?”

“The bruises still look quite bad, and all the -”

“Okay, listen. You stop talking. I’m going to kiss every one of your bruises until you’re not sure whether it hurts anymore, and then I’ll make you come so hard you’ll pass out. To hell with waiting, I won’t take this for another second.”

He’s not sure whether he should take it as a threat or a promise, but when Bandit starts pulling Montagne’s clothes off his body, he finds that he has no intention to argue whatsoever. And it’s good to know this part of him still works. “Be careful, mon cœur.”

Dark eyes flick up and are accompanied by a growl: “Can’t promise that.”

And though this one was definitely a threat, all Montagne does is smile. He didn’t even realise how much he missed this.

.

~*~

.

Bandit continues to do all the work for them the next morning: he orders room service and serves Montagne breakfast in bed while also shoving everything he finds into their suitcases. No need to separate their clothes or belongings; they’re going to the same destination anyway. They should travel more, take some time off and explore the world together – a notion Montagne hadn’t entertained until now as he was never really tempted to leave France or just Europe in general without good reason, and their missions abroad together with the other operators’ supplemental information used to be sufficient for him. But now, the thought of spending a week in a hotel with no one familiar around him but Bandit, the image of them going on walks while holding hands, pointing out quaint aspects of the place around them… it’s enticing. He vows to bring it up sometime.

Muscles still sore from the previous night, his mind is the opposite: he feels refreshed, optimistic, motivated. Part of the reason is undoubtedly the sex, he can’t deny it – falling asleep with Bandit in his arms, the faint feeling of satisfaction still coursing through his body, it’s as invigorating as the act itself, the knowing, challenging stare as Bandit swallowed -

Well. He shouldn’t dwell on it. They don’t have a lot of time planned between leaving the hotel and the departure of their flight.

But anyway, it’s not just that, it’s also the conversations before and after. The way Bandit made him realise what exactly is important, that he can rely on his lover without a guilty conscience. He kept repeating how beautiful Montagne was, even during, and though it caused him to blush in considerable embarrassment, he certainly feels less self-conscious now. There wasn’t a single second in which Bandit’s assurance wavered, no moment where he showed doubt. He meant what he said.

And, thinking about it, it would be the same for Montagne. He wouldn’t care about Bandit’s physical state. He’d still love him unconditionally.

Then why are you saying no to him?

It’s different, Montagne wants to argue in his head. But is it? He’s known Bandit for longer than he did Catou when he proposed to her. They were at a different point in life then, not entirely sure about their careers (well, she wasn’t), uncertain about their future (and children is still a sore spot he refuses to entertain), really too young to make such a momentous decision. He’s been living together with Bandit for long enough to assess how well they work together. How well they fit.

No. It’s not any different in his heart. Where it’s different is his head: he’s twice shy, irrationally worried about getting hurt. And consequently hurts Bandit instead. Bandit has openly declared his wish to make their undying love and loyalty official, whereas Montagne punishes him for a crime he didn’t commit. A crime which was nobody’s fault, in the end.

Watching Bandit tear through the room and toss most of what they own into the nearest suitcase, Montagne notices how there’s one object Bandit hasn’t touched. Montagne’s passport. And he probably never will again, without explicit approval. He made a mistake, apologised and learnt from it.

Now it’s Montagne’s time to do so.

“Dominic”, he says, and instantly all activity halts. Bandit is comically frozen mid-throw, like a deer in headlights. Montagne never calls him by his full first name. “Mon amour.”

“… yes?” He seems unaware of the severity of the situation as of now.

“I would like to change my mind. If it’s still possible.” Montagne extends his hand and, instinctively, Bandit glides over to take it and sit down on the edge of the bed. “I do want to marry you.”

Bandit blinks at him. “Oh”, he says. And then: “Really?”

“Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I realise I’ve been unfair. We don’t have to rehash how… questionable your proposal was, but it made me overlook the most obvious truth: that I do love you above all and want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I do want to make it official that way.”

Bandit still looks dumbstruck, probably overwhelmed from the suddenness of the announcement. “Uh -”

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like us to have rings, too, so I can carry something on me at all times that marks me as yours and the other way round. So yes, mon cœur. My love. I hope your proposal still stands, because I would like to accept it.”

By now, his lover has turned crimson. He’s fidgeting with Montagne’s hand, bending his fingers and generally not knowing what to do with his own, and his embarrassment is terribly endearing – up to the point where he mumbles something Montagne would swear he misheard. “… for the benefits”, Bandit ends, apparently addressing his own feet.

Now it’s Montagne’s turn to blink, uncomprehending. “What was that?”

“I wanted to marry for the benefits”, Bandit repeats, louder, and Montagne’s mind screeches to a halt.

He stares at Bandit, Bandit stares at the ground. “You… what now?”

“Not just – well I mean, also, but definitely not only… you know, financial, because I think there is…” Bandit’s tongue seems to be disobeying him. “But, mostly because…”

“What on earth are you saying, Dom?”

“I wasn’t allowed to visit you.”

The shoe drops.

Boy, does the shoe drop. This explains so much. Montagne blanks for a second before his brain retroactively feeds him bits and pieces of information which now neatly fall into place, now that he’s been handed the solution on a silver platter. In his delirium, he never questioned why Madeleine was the only one coming to visit him – hell, even his parents did – instead of Bandit as well; he did hear about a fight between Bandit and Lion and probably, in his feverish mind, figured that Bandit was banned because of this and couldn’t visit him as a result. But never, not for a moment, did he consider the option that they simply turned Bandit away because he was no more than a stranger to them, no official connection between them.

No wonder Bandit went stir-crazy, no wonder his mind snapped and convinced him faking official documents was a reasonable long-term solution, no wonder he announced their wedding so casually without ever officially proposing. It was never meant to be a step forward for them as a couple, was never meant as any kind of declaration – it was meant as a preventative method in case they ever find themselves in a similar situation.

No wonder Bandit is thoroughly embarrassed by Montagne’s acceptance speech.

If there even was any left, all of his residual anger vanishes upon this revelation. He’s not even dismayed about Bandit’s motives: had he, at any point really, explained himself, Montagne might’ve actually agreed with him – because while a marriage means something much more sentimental and symbolic to Montagne, he understands Bandit’s viewpoint as well, especially under the circumstances.

Bandit is still avoiding his gaze, so he lifts his lover’s hand and kisses its palm until he has his full attention. “We’ve become victims of a grave misunderstanding”, Montagne states, a smile playing on his lips. “I understand now. Still, my point stands: I would like to be married to you, for the reasons I stated, and also for the reasons you had in mind. But I’d like you to think about it, because we obviously have different approaches and I want to be sure our expectations match.”

And this is the moment burning eyes meet his, framed in an expression so open and vulnerable that Montagne has no doubt about the authenticity of Bandit’s next words: “I don’t need to think about it.”

Montagne’s heart doubles in size. His composure, his tension, all of it melts instantly, replaced by a heady rush of pure serotonin as he realises just how right this decision feels. Inevitable, almost, like this has been their destination all along without either of them being aware, but now they’re here; exactly where they belong. All their time together has led up to this, the difficult conversations they had, the obstacles they overcame, all the beautiful little moments which were wholly theirs. It’s incredible to him how far they’ve progressed, from near-strangers who barely exchanged a word to lovers so intimate they’ll spend the rest of their lives together.

It’s not about the proposal itself, not about the wedding or even the marriage after – Montagne himself knows best that a marriage is no guarantee for happiness; instead, it’s something deeper, significant only to them. A promise to each other, a promise to take care of each other, to stay loyal and supportive, to listen and talk to each other. Ultimately, it’s extremely private, yet they might decide to share it with the world regardless.

“Come here”, he pleads and kisses Bandit, half drags him onto himself and pushes his hands under Bandit’s shirt – no, his own shirt, he notices, the one Bandit slept in. A shirt he brought Montagne to wear in hospital and a shirt he took back to wash it, but it seems he didn’t get around to doing so. Instead he just wore it. “I love you so much”, Montagne whispers against scratchy beard hair, and of course that moment someone knocks on their door.

They look at each other and simultaneously roll their eyes. Lion has terrible timing.

“We don’t have much time left!”, the other Frenchman announces from the other side of the door. “So whatever it is you’re doing, you better -” He stops once Bandit yanks open the door with an annoyed scowl.

“We were actually getting ready”, Montagne lies smoothly and can’t help his beaming expression. The same glowing, fluttery feeling which has settled in his stomach is tugging on the corners of his lips, forcing him to grin.

Lion raises a sceptical brow. “Seems like you kissed and made up then.”

“And out”, Bandit provides helpfully. “Don’t stand around, get this luggage downstairs, I’ll take care of Gilles.”

“That better not be a euphemism”, Lion scoffs, but Montagne catches him fighting a smile himself.

Maybe the two of them are contagious. It would certainly make for a more pleasant flight.

.

~*~

.

By the time they’re back in England, Lion is thoroughly done with their shit.

The entire jouney, Bandit fawned over Montagne and tended to his every wish – uttered or not –, all of this done on top of all the accommodations he’d booked in advance. They spent a relaxed hour in the airport lounge, sipping on overpriced drinks and listening to the bustling around them, and even flew first class despite the shortness of the flight. Not even the screaming baby that performed the entire duration as if it was having its debut on the big stage was able to put a damper on Montagne’s or Bandit’s mood, and part of him understands Lion’s irritated response to their admittedly disgusting lovey-dovey aura.

His friend started out being cordial and visibly swallowing various remarks, progressed to thin-lipped, high-browed and disapproving, and ended with eye rolls and audible sighs. Every affectionate nickname worsened his mood, every public display like kisses or interlacing their fingers prompted a judging glance, and every soft-spoken sentence had him check his phone for the time.

Montagne has no space in his fully-occupied heart to feel any sort of guilt, especially because he suspects Lion is largely doing it for Bandit’s benefit as the German seems to relish the reactions he provokes. He is very smug.

His suspicions are apparently confirmed when he’s alone with Lion for a minute while Bandit bodychecks his way through an unmoving and uncaring crowd blocking the baggage claim. “Seems like you came to an agreement after all”, Lion states neutrally.

“We did. And if I’m honest, something you said helped with my decision.” Lion only nods, like he expected it. Curious. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to like him? If so, I won’t need a wedding present from you because that’s all I could wish for.”

“Let’s not go that far”, comes the hasty response and Montagne chuckles.

“Then why?”

A one-sided shrug. “I think everyone deserves a second chance.”

They share no more than a significant look before Bandit returns, masking his annoyance with overdone cheeriness, and so his statement remains unexplained. Whether he finally noticed the mirrored qualities he and Bandit share, whether he’s referring to Montagne’s first marriage, or whether he’s implying that he might meet Bandit with a different attitude in the future, Montagne doesn’t know. Still, the assertion resonates with him.

.

Seeing the oh so familiar landscape rush past the window on the last leg back to Hereford evokes an odd kind of nostalgia in Montagne. The view is one he’s always enjoyed, it marked the end of a difficult mission, the return to normalcy in a way – because his life at Rainbow has become the new normal for him, his everyday life, the foundation for his daily routine. The company of his colleagues is dear to him, as is the work itself, and as gruelling their training schedule is, he sleeps better when his muscles are sore and his head heavy.

Knowing he won’t be able to go back to this life for the foreseeable future causes a bittersweet feeling in his stomach. He will still participate, no doubt, will be included in briefings and kept up to date, will confer with teammates, offer advice. So it’s not like he’ll be isolated or exiled. But the knowledge of being incapable of doing what he’s used to stings a little.

Even so, his mind is focused on another matter. There are many more obstacles to overcome in the future concerning their engagement, starting with their respective families (though he’s under the suspicion Madeleine has realised something is up, even if she might not be aware of the severity of the situation) and ending with important decisions on how to hold their wedding party – but the most valuable aspect is that they’ll be doing it together.

Although he’s not so sure whether Bandit is ready for some of it.

“Take it to your grave or I’ll haunt your son when I’m dead.”

Lion seems largely amused by the threat, patiently waiting in front of the main entrance to Rainbow’s headquarters for Bandit to open the door. “One of his friends is a flat-earther, so he’s faced worse.”

Montagne snorts and Bandit nearly slams into the doors from scowling back at the other Frenchman. “Seriously though. This is just between us for now, alright? Even I haven’t told anyone, and neither has Gilles. Right, my love?”

“I’d like to point out that you were the one who told Olivier about your ‘proposal’ in the first place, mon cœur. Drunkenly, if I remember correctly.”

“Does that mean I can’t even tell Gustave?” Lion seems intent on making Bandit faceplant after all – he’s got the easy job of pushing Montagne around whereas Bandit is tasked with the much more difficult assignment of holding doors open for them on the way to their canteen. “I would love to see his face.”

“No. Nobody. Especially not in Rainbow.”

“What about Père Bertrand?”

“Absolutely not. Who knows whether he’s a snitch.”

“Who would he snitch to? God?”

“Look. I don’t know why this is so hard for you.” Bandit’s voice is rising in agitation as he shoulders open the last door, back turned to the room behind him, eyes fixed on Lion. “Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Okay? No one needs to know. No one! This is just between us.”

Montagne’s composure is crumbling. Wordlessly, he indicates the entirety of the canteen with a vague gesture, trying his best to hold back a hearty laugh.

In response, Bandit whirls around with a wild expression, only to be faced with an entire room decked out with the gaudiest decorations in pink and white, plus literally all of the other operators arranged along the wall, holding confetti cannons or glasses of champagne, wearing party hats and utterly aghast expressions, and above them, floating below the ceiling, are gold balloons spelling out  E N G A G E D.

The awkward silence is palpable.

The champagne bottle in Blitz’ hand pops with a startlingly loud noise, making everyone jump and almost taking out Twitch’s eye in the process, and Lion just starts roaring with laughter, holding on to the wheelchair as to not lose his balance.

“Welcome back, Gilles”, Doc offers and lifts his glass for a toast, and that finally breaks the spell. Everyone rushes at them, congratulating them and greeting Montagne after his long absence, Rook with tears in his eyes and Jackal with an encouraging smile, there are too many faces and too many well-wishes to identify them all. Their gesture is heartwarming, and though Bandit stands in the middle of the crowd, hiding his bright red face with one hand (and repeating that no, he is not taking questions right now), he’s far from fighting the many hugs he receives. When Sledge takes him into his arms, there’s audible bone cracking and joint popping, and Montagne is suddenly glad to be confined to the wheelchair.

Maybe their reveal didn’t go quite as planned, but the support they’re receiving is invigorating. Montagne might’ve preferred a small wedding prior to this, yet being confronted with hard evidence of how much all these people care for them is beginning to change his mind.

He will talk about it with Bandit, later. For now he has a party to attend.

#rainbow six siege #montagne #bandit #montagne/bandit #lion #fanfic #protection mountain #I'm personally very happy with how all this is concluded #thank you to the one person who started all this you know who you are #thank you also to suzie for keeping this ship alive all this time #thank you all #💗💗💗 #ALSO #CAN YOU GUESS WHO'S THE SNITCH?

[renaerys]

I know in BTM the guys are estranged at the moment (*tear*) but in the sequel as they start to repair their relationship will the apologies be from all of them? I know that in BTM it ended with Brick causing a lot of emotional damage which he did need to apologize for however imo I feel like all of them owe each other an apology. It's obvious they don't get each other and there's been underlying tension brewing for years. Boomer and Butch don't get that Brick wasn't controlling all the time because he necessarily wanted to be but because he had to in order to ensure their survival. They're products of shit parenting and because of it the oldest sibling had to step up and become an adult way before his time. As as result he wasn't there for his brother's the way they needed. He supported them financially but was never there emotionally. He was dismissive of their feelings and internal struggles. Basically miscommunication from all ends. Brick doesn't get his brothers and they don't get him. I know in the sequel after all the angst and tension dissipates they'll have that hallmark worthy reconciliation we all can't wait for but what I'm hoping is that in the uncomfortable conversation that needs to had. Not only are the apologies coming from all of them because they all owe each other that(though it mostly should come from their "parent") but most importantly they at the end they come out of it with an actual understanding of each other and a real brotherhood with no toxicity or lack of boundaries running rampant. Love your work. Looking forward to the sequel. I had to get this out because it was a nagging thought in the back of my mind for awhile now.

Thank you so much for reading Beyond This Morning! I’m always delighted to hear from readers. This is going to be a long answer, but it’s extremely important to me that these points make sense and are heard. You’re right that the brothers’ relationship will be more of a focus in the sequel. However, I want to be clear: Butch and Boomer do not owe Brick anything, not an apology and not their forgiveness. I think you may have missed some of the point of the emotional climax of BTM, so I’ll try to explain it here.

“Boomer and Butch don't get that Brick wasn't controlling all the time because he necessarily wanted to be but because he had to [sic] in order to ensure their survival.”

That’s not true. In Chapter 14, Boomer admits in his POV that he understands exactly why Brick did what he did, and how he will always be grateful for the sacrifices he made. That’s not at issue. What is at issue is Brick’s subsequent treatment of his brothers over the years since they left Mojo’s care. It was Brick’s choice to be a controlling asshole, just as much as it could have been his choice not to be that way. For example, Boomer flat out tells him that four years ago, he didn’t need Brick’s money, he needed emotional support and understanding when he was going through a difficult time after breaking up with Bubbles. But Brick never asked what Boomer wanted four years ago, or even what really happened. Instead, he threw money at him and threw a tantrum, and Boomer realized that there was no way he could leave Brick because Brick was no good on his own. This is emotional manipulation by a person with more power and authority in the relationship (Brick) at a time when the party with less power (Boomer) was in an emotionally and financially vulnerable place. That was all Brick’s choice to make, which you can piece together through the various hints and foreshadowing through the fic up until that confrontation in Chapter 14. It was also Boomer’s choice to stay because, and this is a little fucked up but realistic imo, Boomer loves his brother and let that behavior slide at the time for the sake of preserving the relationship. But the confrontation in Chapter 14 is the breaking point when Boomer has had enough and will no longer put up with Brick’s toxic behavior. 

By contrast, another choice Brick makes is to let Butch leave Townsville to join the military overseas. Butch talks to Buttercup about this in Chapter 8 when they are talking about what it means to be a leader. Letting Butch go was a choice Brick made because, as Butch tells Buttercup outright, they both knew Butch would never learn unless he experienced leading and failing himself. This too is a type of manipulation by Brick, but like Boomer in the above example, it’s a manipulation Butch fully understood and went along with to get what he wanted and needed. And of course, Butch comes back in the end because he was always going to come back. That’s the relationship the brothers have, for better and for worse. They stick together. Brick demands blind loyalty from both of them, as Boomer said, and yet he manipulates and controls them to his own ends. Sure, he does this out of a sense of love and loyalty himself, but it is grossly misguided and often executed for the wrong reasons.

“They're products of shit parenting and because of it the oldest sibling had to step up and become an adult way before his time. As [sic] as a result he wasn't there for his brother's [sic] the way they needed. He supported them financially but was never there emotionally. He was dismissive of their feelings and internal struggles.”

You’re right about Brick’s behavior here, but not for the reasons you stated. When Brick got them out of Mojo’s house when they were 16? Yeah, that was him making a difficult choice to ensure his brothers’ survival, using the tools he had at the time and doing what he thought was the best thing he could have done. Boomer explicitly tells the reader how he and Butch understand that sacrifice, how they are grateful for it, and how they will never forget the solid Brick did them for as long as they live. But that is the past. None of it excuses or absolves Brick’s subsequent behavior up until the present, which included controlling, manipulating, and being emotionally unavailable to his brothers and to pretty much everyone else. Having shitty parents may explain, but in no way excuses, absolves, or forgives a person’s terrible treatment of others. That kind of thinking harms real life people who are the victims of this type of toxic treatment. I made an effort in BTM to call this out. I will make an effort in the sequel to show how people who genuinely want to make positive changes in their lives might go about doing that.

Brick’s shitty treatment of his brothers is not the product of a “miscommunication from all ends”. It is squarely a product of his own bad choices, which are informed but in no way excused by his troubled upbringing. In the sequel, I will examine the steps Brick chooses to take to make positive changes in his life. I will show how his brothers react to that effort he makes, and how it might improve their opinion of him. But I will also be extremely clear that they are under no obligation to forgive him, and how that has nothing to do with Brick’s decision to try to be better anyway because that is what it means to grow and be a good person. I think Brick as he will appear in the sequel does deserve empathy, patience, and understanding for the work he does on himself, and I am interested in showing that journey for him as he rebuilds his support system. Many people who put in the effort to be a better person deserve that chance to build new relationships and move forward. But they are not entitled to the forgiveness of their past victims, no matter how much progress they make. 

All that said, I am very glad you sent me this Ask. I suspect that there are others with similar views or questions that were raised here, and it’s very important to me that you all understand the type of story I’m telling. There are a lot of stories out there that do apologize for Brick’s shitty behavior, that ignore it, that even romanticize or glorify it. And yeah, they’re just stories and people can write what they want. I’m not here to police anyone or ruin their fun. But stories don’t exist in a vacuum, and media and culture are reflections that inform and influence each other. For me and my fics specifically, it’s important to me that I do my best to tell a story that calls out bad behavior unequivocally and holds that behavior accountable, even if the character exhibiting that bad behavior is the hot, cool love interest. Perhaps even more so because of that, since that’s a Venn diagram with a lot of crossover in general. I do not think I’ve done a perfect job, far from it. I don’t think I haven’t made mistakes (I know I have). But I work closely with my beta, I talk to other writers whose work I admire, and I listen to smart, feminist people whose opinions I respect. I use everything I glean from them to try to write a story that is sensitive to these types of topics. I’ll keep working to improve, as I think all creators should. 

#i won't put this in the brick tag #but as far as my stories go this is it people #ppg btm #Anonymous #ppg meta

[musette22]

Just some shipping & fandom things

So, these past few days, I’ve been getting and seeing some messages and posts about shipping culture and fandom/standom culture in general that have been bothering me a little, so I just want to make a quick post about it, and then I want to move on to all things lovely and beautiful again! ❤️ This is going to be a long one, so bear with me, and I’ll be pinning it to my profile somehow or at least refer to it whenever I get asks about any of this, because I am getting mighty tired of repeating myself all the time (and I’m sure most of you guys are getting tired of hearing me repeat myself too :p)

First of all, I want to make it clear that I am fully aware that Sebastian and Chris are actual, real-life people, and that they are strangers to me. They do not know me, and I do not know them, nor do I profess to know what they are really like in their private lives.

I understand that it can get confusing sometimes in the case of RPF, because a lot of the time, we speak about them in a way that makes it seem like they’re our friends, or we have all their secrets figured out. Obviously, we don’t. But to point that out with every single post we make would suck all of the fun out of stanning and shipping, as I’m sure everyone would agree.

But let me just say it here again: there is a reason I tag all my Evanstan posts with ‘rpf’ (real person fiction). My fics are fiction, as are my headcanons, which are mostly just a continuation of my fics. If I make an Evanstan post or answer an ask about Evanstan, my comments and answers are usually based on the speculative assumption that they are together. That is obviously something that I do not have any proof for and which might not be true. It is just something that I would really like to be true. Not saying it isn’t or can’t be true, just that I have no way of knowing this for sure and as such I am – for the sake of argument, for the sake of having fun within the safe space of fandom – only postulating that they are, because I enjoy thinking of them as being together, as I know a lot of you do too. And I don’t believe there is anything wrong with that, as long as we keep discussions based on that assumption within the fandom.

I do understand that some people will say this kind of behaviour is problematic, because what if the boys find out about what we’ve been saying about them and get uncomfortable, or what if they get girlfriends and people will start hating on those girlfriends because they believe they are getting in the way of ‘true love’ etc?

To that I would say: we are all responsible for our own behaviour. I am responsible for myself only, and I, personally, would never do anything with the express purpose of making the boys aware of our shipping activities. Shipping (including fic and fanart) is for us, and us only, and the vast majority of shippers I know understands that. I also would never harass, hate on or speak disdainfully about the boys’ loved ones, and that includes any past and future girlfriends (unless they turn out to be Trump supporters or animal abusers or what have you, in which case all rules are out the window, obviously :p) Moreover, I respect that the boys have private lives that I have no say over, and am in no way entitled to, and someone simply “getting in the way of my ship” or doing something that doesn’t fit my Evanstan headcanons/narrative will never be a reason for me to hate on them. I respect that their private life is private, and I am aware of the difference between my (hopeful) fantasies and reality.

If other people are not, or they can’t respect their faves personal boundaries and harass the boys or their loved ones for whatever reason, or they ask them improper or invasive questions at cons or show them fanfic or fanart, then they are crossing the line and that really sucks, but that is not my responsibility. Everyone is responsible for their own behaviour, and I don’t think it’s unreasonable of me to assert that I am not going to let other people’s behaviour dictate mine.  

Shipping aside, I just want to say that just as I am aware that Chris and Sebastian are real-life people (as opposed to my personal dolls, my babies, my responsibility, my friends), I also know that they are human. Like every other human, they have flaws. They are not saints and I am not and never will be their apologist if they ever do something that is clearly wrong. Having said that, I do not see the point of purposely looking for flaws in other people and putting them under a magnifying glass. I genuinely don’t. What good is that going to do? We’re all just trying to live our lives as best we can here, and of course we’re going to make mistakes, but, even though I’m not religious in the slightest, I guess that Jesus guy had a point when he apparently said that thing about casting the first stone…

As some of you will know, I am a person who likes to have a positive outlook on life and give people the benefit of the doubt, because in my experience, more often than not people can learn from their mistakes and grow. That includes me, by the way. I am so far from flawless, but I do try to learn from my mistakes and use instances where I am wrong to grow and become a better person, instead of letting them turn me bitter or spiteful. Needless to say, I’m not a fan of cancel culture either. Of course, sometimes people’s behaviour is inexcusable, for instance when they do something that is genuinely harmful to others, or they keep repeating the same mistakes, showing that they just don’t care enough to change their toxic behaviour. Those people are truly problematic and I will treat them as such.

Clearly, however, this is not the case for Chris and Sebastian so far. They have shown themselves to be decent people over and over again, so unless/until they do something that’s genuinely problematic, I am giving them the benefit of the doubt. Because that’s what they deserve. That’s what everyone who tries to be a decent human deserves, actually, not just “my faves.” This does not mean I’m bending over backwards to justify their behaviour – it simply means that most of the time (such with the facemask or the Paul situation) I genuinely don’t see anything wrong with their behaviour. And when I do (yes, it happens!) I try to approach the situation with an open attitude (as I would for anyone else) to see if that behaviour was the result of ill judgment, or stupidity/intentional malice. So far, it’s been ill judgement every time, in my opinion.

Now, not everyone has to agree with me, of course. Like I always make a point of stressing, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, as long as it’s not harmful to others, or posited as The Truth, which would give people a carte blanche to play judge and executioner over other people. That’s not cool.

Literally everyone on this planet is unique. We all have our unique outlook on life which shapes our unique opinions. Most people agree on some things, and not on others. That’s fine. I have made it a point with this blog, within fandom, not to publicly pass judgment over other people. Sure, I have my private opinions just like everyone else, but I am not and will never openly shame or hate on people for liking something or shipping something, even if it’s not my cup of tea. If you want to fantasise about being with/having a relationship with Chris or Sebastian, that’s great, you do you! As long as you don’t start to confuse fantasy with reality (which most people won’t) there is nothing wrong with that. Likewise, if you want to ship Stony, I am not going to tell you it’s wrong or you can’t, but please extend me the same courtesy and don’t come into my corner of the fandom to tell me I shouldn’t ship Stucky, either. Ship and let ship.

We each enjoy fandom in our own ways. It’s not a competition. There is no right way, and we should stop acting like there is.

If I see something I don’t like or don’t agree with, I scroll past it or ignore it. If I still can’t let it go, I will talk to friends about it in private. If it’s something that I believe is genuinely problematic or toxic, I try, if possible, to create awareness and understanding of that issue in a way that will actually help people learn and grow. 

So, this is my long winded way of saying that it would be so nice if people could stop policing the fandom. Being hateful, condescending, or making generalizing statements such as “the problem with this fandom is…” isn’t actually helping. It’s not changing anything about the situation you believe to be problematic, it’s just adding negativity to it. Instead, why don’t we all just devote our energy to spreading positivity and being kind to others? Generally speaking, hate begets hate, and kindness begets kindness. Mind you, kindness does not equate to weakness. It’s possible to be kind and strong, as I believe Chris and Sebastian both prove.

#fandom rant #shipping #don't really know what else to tag this with #because I don't want to start new discussions #this is just my personal take I felt I needed to share with you all

[mediawhorefics]

I'm so torn about the question of queer art being represented by non-out people. I feel like when you create something (write a story, paint, etc.) then ok it's self expression. But when you take on a role, you're taking on a job position, a job position that out actors, who have taken the risk of being with in all its consequences, should be considered as an absolute priority. You can tell the stories who you choose to embody those stories and give a job to? Go for those who are out.

i totally get that point of view and i think it’s absolutely valid. i’m just not sure i fully agree yk? like.. yes absolutely give out actors lgbt roles, i think it’s super important, but it’s such a slippery slope, esp. in an industry like this where we know so many people are closeted. and there isn’t necessarily something inherently ‘physical’ to gayness that needs to be ‘preserved’ by casting a queer actor vs deaf actors and deaf roles, or trans actors and trans roles, or any ethnic minorities, where casting outside that actual group is a massive issue. like... ofc an lgbt actor could bring depth to an lgbt role the way a straight actor couldn’t, but research exist for a reason yk? it’s what actors do to put themselves in the shoes of people who live different lives than they do. idk, i guess it’s more important to me to have people behind the camera telling those queer stories than in front of it. but it’s a super complicated thing and people are allowed to have all types of different feelings about it. i’m not saying i’m necessarily right feeling this way, it’s just how i feel yk ? 

it’s just really frustrating to me how quickly people are ready to go on a witchhunt the second someone ‘seemingly straight’ touch any lgbt story/lgbt art. 

like... at the end of the day, if we stick to ‘ownvoices’ only, it’s just an excuse for every ciswhitehet to write/participate in projects only including ciswhitehet experiences and wash their hands off the whole thing because well.... that’s their own experience and they can’t create outside of that...... tho i guess that applies more to stuff like writing than acting. but yk what i’m trying to say ??? it’s a difficult balance to find...... 

and on the flip side, does it mean lgbt actors can’t/shouldn’t take on straight roles ?? should they be typecasted within the limits of their own sexuality ?? do they even want that ?? like... where do we draw the line? not that i’m saying that’s what you’re saying, i’m just asking those questions in general yk. obvs the issue is more complicated than that and the point is for marginalized folks to get the roles that belong to them when there are so little of them to begin with..... but still. 

basically, it’s very complicated and people are entitled to their various opinions about it. i just get really angry/defensive because this myth that being out is the pinnacle of lgbt experience and what everyone should aspire to can be really harmful in my opinion. the idea that the closet is automatically associated with shame & self-hatred or that people in the closet are not fully ~formed lgbt folks yet or whatever..... idk the narratives surrounding coming out make me kind of uncomfortable sometimes. being in the closet doesn’t necessarily mean being dishonest or not living your truth or being ashamed or whatever else. it can of course and coming out can be a wonderfully liberating experience. but there are millions of reasons why people don’t. and i think as a community we could do more to support that. so yeah, i get a bit protective mama bear lol. but i get what you’re saying <3 

#about me #this just became an incoherent rant #im so sorry anon lol #basically i have a lot of thoughts #not all of them fully formed #and some maybe a bit conflicting #but im aware its complicated #i certainly feel that way lol #Anonymous

[lusie-king]

The smells hit Poppy before anything else did. Garlic, butter and pepper tickled her nose as they entered through the grand doors into the ballroom. But as soon as she saw the masterpiece before her, she forgot about the aromatic scents. In fact, she forgot most things, especially how not to gawk.

             The eye was drawn to the center of the room where a dance floor made of the warmest gold had couples in equally as impressive gowns and suits of all colors gliding across its smooth surface. Above them hung chandeliers made of sparkling glass that seemed to rain shimmering embers of glitter. Poppy saw these lightly touch down in Quancy’s hair, and felt them in her own. Pearl colored curtains of satin crisscrossed the ceiling and the banister balcony that spanned the perimeter of the room. Beneath them, as the primary decorations, were marble statues of masked couples dancing exaggeratedly between rose-gold pillars engraved with fluid designs.

             Large circular tables also lined the edges of the room, with table clothes softer than any silk sheets (though Poppy had yet to try the bed) and dishware she wasn’t sure it was legal to eat off of.

             Quancy and Poppy moved forward slowly, both too stunned to do much else than stumble in a circle like fools. At least, Poppy later observed, they acted foolish together. It wasn’t until someone cleared his throat behind Poppy that she was pulled from a daze she didn’t think she’d ever want to leave.

             It was the handsome man from the boat, the one with the checkered mask who also saved her life.

             “Madame,” he said and offered his hand, which she took and tried to keep her cheeks cool as his lips touched her skin. “Ah, Miss Celidene.”

             “Poppy, please,” she heard herself say, not fully convinced the words left her lips.

             “And Lord Quancy Quixote,” Quancy said with a slight growl as he pushed in front of Poppy and offered his hand to the man. “I don’t recall getting your name.”

             “That would be because I did not give it,” the man said with a smirk. Quancy glared beneath his mask. The man still hadn’t released Poppy’s hand, so she tugged it back on her own. “But you may call me Lindon. Your table is right this way.”

             They followed Lindon to a table with four chairs. Lindon pulled out a seat for Poppy, evident in the glistening name tag before the plate. He stood in front of Quancy’s chair for far longer than necessary, blocking the slowly seething man from sitting beside his beloved.

             “I am not your server tonight, but if you need anything, anything at all, just say my name out loud and I will come,” he said with a smile Poppy could have gotten lost in. Quancy cleared his throat a few times, but neither Poppy nor Lindon seemed to hear, or if they did, they refused to acknowledge, and this trance was broken only when another actor led another couple to the same table. This second actor, the same woman who initially showed them to their room, barked at Lindon.

             “I believe you’ve another few guests to attend to.”

             “Of course, Rulla,” Lindon said without breaking eye contact. Poppy blinked and he was gone. Quancy sat beside her, brushing off his suit jacket.

             “I do not like him,” Quancy said in a low voice, his words tickling Poppy’s neck. She shrugged, the elaborate material of her gown like liquid dripping off her shoulders.

             “Oh, I don’t know. I quite like him.”  

             “I think he is absolutely ravishing,” the woman now seated with them said. She stretched her arm across the table, holding her hand out. “Ruth Pows. This is Atler, my brother.” After she said it, the resemblance between the two became remarkable, even beneath their masks. Both had light red hair and a few freckles scattered about their charismatic expressions. Well, that was the expression Ruth wore. Atler’s wasn’t as cheerful. Ruth’s purple mask had sparks of blue and red here and there, similar to the tie-dye feel of her dress. She wore gloves, one went all the way up to her upper arm while the other stopped just after her wrist.

             Atler had on a gray and green mask, the same color scheme as his dark suit. He sat with his arms crossed and didn’t look at anyone at the table.

             “It’s very nice to meet you. I am Poppy, and this is my fiancé, Quancy.”

             “Fiancé?” Quancy asked quietly. Poppy nodded with a smile and placed her palm over his hand. They stared into each other’s eyes as Ruth squealed and Atler grimaced.

             “Fiancé! How simply enchanting! Congratulations! I know we just only met, but I am so excited for you dearest Poppy!”

             “You are too sweet, Ruth,” Poppy replied, her hand still over Quancy’s.

             “What a thrilling way to spend your engagement! I am so excited to be here. When I got the tickets, it simply made my entire lifetime! And I chose to bring the one person who means everything to me, my dearest Atler.” Ruth shook his arm and smiled wide. Atler gave a grumpy sigh. “Can’t you tell how ecstatic he is?”

             “Uh, yeah,” Quancy said and Poppy had to stifle a laugh. She squeezed Quancy’s hand.

             “So, have you made any progress on the overall clue?”

             “Um…” Poppy trailed off. Ruth sat back.

             “I know, I know. It’s a competition, so we shouldn’t be helping each other out. I just thought I’d ask, since Atler and I have absolutely no idea what any of it means.”

             “Actually, I am ashamed to admit we haven’t looked at it beyond first receiving it.” It occurred to Poppy then that everyone else in the room had probably already put some serious thought into the clue.

             “Ha-ha! No worries! It is the first night, after all! Ooh, what are you most looking forward to? I personally cannot wait to have my fortune told! The cards they use here are as real as they come. Every fortune predicted is one-hundred percent accurate, since the cards once belonged to the Soothsayer.” Ruth’s curls bounced as she spoke.

             “What?” Quancy said, suddenly interested. “That can’t be. The Soothsayer’s cards? As in, the Entity himself?”

             Ruth nodded rapidly. “C’mon Quance! Everyone knows that when Jinx, in all her power and glory, trapped the Immoral Entities for good, she took possession of their Immoral Items, Soothsayer’s cards included!”  

             “Immortal,” Quancy clarified.

             “What?” Ruth blinked.

             “Immortal Entities. Immortal Items. Not immoral.”

             Ruth snorted. “Yes, technically it is Immortal. But everyone nowadays refers to them as Immoral, seeing how the terms fits better. I suppose everyone is entitled to their own opinions. I won’t hold it against you, Quance.”

             Quancy then seemed a little flustered. “I—uh—I’ve never actually heard that before.”

             “Really?” Ruth and Poppy said at the same time. Now it was Poppy’s turn to snort.

             “That surprises me, Quancy.”

             He shrugged. “I guess the Entities never really come up in everyday conversation.”

             “Fair enough. Who would really want to discuss the worst villains to ever walk this world, anyhow?” Ruth laughed.

             “How did you know about the cards Ruth? Because I actually didn’t know that,” Poppy asked.

             “Well,” Ruth began ringing her fingers. “Perhaps it isn’t common knowledge.” She took on a sly tone. “I just happen to have an “in” with one of the actors.”

             “You mean you slept with one,” Atler said, his first words of the night. Poppy and Quancy were taken aback. Ruth frowned at her brother.

             “You don’t have to go around telling everyone that!” she said through clenched teeth.

             “We’re not even here for a full day and you’ve already gotten into the pants of an employee. How just like you, Ruth. Honestly. What else did I expect?”

             “I couldn’t help myself!” she exclaimed, and the atmosphere of the table was suddenly uncomfortable. “She was just so seductive, and looked so appetizing in her costume! Just the sight of her made my loins burn like—”

             “Ugh, stop it, Ruth!” Atler gagged as Ruth grinned dumbly. “Why must you always do this?”

             “I can’t help it!” she cried again. Atler glared.

             “Yes you can!”

             “No, I can’t!”

             “Yes, you can.”

             Quancy leaned over to Poppy as the two siblings bickered. “Want to go do something that involves leaving the table and whatever this is?”

             She leaned as well. “Please.”

             “Don’t mind us, we need to excuse ourselves a moment,” Quancy said, though neither of the Pows seemed to care for neither noticed he had spoken, or that he and Poppy had left.

             They walked, arm in arm, toward the punch table and when Poppy brought a glass of the rich yellow liquid to her lips, her taste buds melted. It was light yet buttery, creamy yet zesty, sweet yet savory, and she could have gulped down the entire fountain-display of it if she decided to throw self-control to the wind. Quancy leaned against the table, eyeing her with a look that made her want to repeat some of the things Ruth had said.

             “So, since you kind of proposed to me, does this mean you’ll get me a ring?”

             “What?” Poppy laughed. “I didn’t propose.”

             “Well, I haven’t either. Yet. And still, it seems I am your fiancé.” He placed his glass down and stepped closer. Even with the mask his expressions failed to remain hidden.

             “I said what I said because it seems easier than introducing you to everyone as ‘the man who I most likely will marry, but it hasn’t yet been made official’.”

             “That is quite the mouthful,” he agreed, and she laughed out loud, then took a step closer herself and gripped the folds of his suit collar. The punch certainly was relaxing.  

             “Listen, I know you haven’t officially proposed, but my answer is officially…” she paused, her eyes searching his for any reason to turn back. And she found none. “Yes.”

             “Poperva Celidene, you have just made me the happiest man in the world,” he whispered, took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. They broke away only upon the realization that a line for punch had formed behind them. This line erupted in a chorus of cheers and applause, since they had overheard the unorthodox engagement.

             With eyes closed and foreheads together, Poppy and Quancy smiled as their noses brushed.

             “May I have this dance, my darling?”

             “Of course, my beloved.” Poppy followed Quancy onto the dance floor, where a few other couples slowly spun to the music. He took one of her hands in his, placed the other on her waist, and they twirled across the floor. She had attended a few parties in the past with Quancy, and they always danced so she always knew he was good, but on that night in particular she thought no one had ever danced like him before. Poppy glanced down and saw their shoes left silver footprints on the gold material. Quancy’s eyes twinkled like the specs of glitter in his hair. In that moment, swaying to the gentle melodies from the orchestra that was nowhere to be seen, Poppy never wanted to be anywhere else but in Quancy’s arms.

             After a few songs, Quancy’s gaze fell on something off to the side. Poppy looked back and saw a blonde girl dressed in a pink gown with the same color mask, sitting all by herself. She spun the liquid in her drink miserably.

             “I’ve never seen someone look so lonely before,” Poppy commented, their dance coming to a halt.

             “Me either,” Quancy said, though that wasn’t necessarily the reason he had picked her out of the crowd.

             “Do you know her?” Poppy asked.

             “I’m not sure. She seems awfully familiar, but I can’t quite pinpoint it. Which is odd, because I am awfully good with faces.”

             “Well, she is wearing a mask.” Poppy released him, stepping back. “You should invite her to dance.”

             “Really?”

             “Yes. No one should be that sad. I am sure a man as handsome and charming as yourself asking her to dance will shoo away whatever is bothering her at once.”

             “But I am engaged to you,” Quancy said and raised an eyebrow. Poppy pushed him away lightly.

             “And you always will be. But that poor dear will never again get the chance to experience this magic. It has been extra special for me, so I want it to be the same for her. Besides, it is just a dance. And I can tell the familiarity is bugging you. Go. Have a good time. My feet need a break anyway.”

             Quancy bent forward and kissed her cheek. “You are a saint, my darling.”

             “And you are a good man, my beloved.”

             He approached the sad girl, with drooping bows in her golden hair, and spoke. They exchanged a few words, and soon he was whisking her across the dance floor as a smile appeared on her pale lips.

             Poppy headed back to the punch fountain, the line now gone, and helped herself to another glass of the delicious drink.

             “Congratulations,” a voice said behind her. She whirled around to see Lindon, a smirk on the visible portions of his face.

             “Beg pardon?”

             “If you want.”

             “What…um…what are you talking about?”

             “You’re engagement, of course. To the pinhead dancing with another woman.” Lindon pointed, expecting an enraged response from Poppy who simply frowned. At Lindon.

             “He is not a pinhead. I asked him to dance with the lovely girl because she seemed down, and I thought the invitation might cheer her up.”

             “And I am sure he is on the same page as you on the matter.”

             “I know what you are trying to do,” she said and squinted at him. “You are trying to get into my head, to manipulate me because it is what you do. But it won’t work. Everything is exactly how I want it.”

             “Is that so?” Lindon asked, and though she knew his rhetorical question was part of his ploy, it still sent an uneasy feeling down her spine. Poppy quickly brushed it aside, firmly placed the glass down and spoke sharply.

             “Yes, it is,” Poppy stated and spun on her heel, back toward her table. But Lindon, much like a sly tom cat weaving around your shins to make you stumble, was in front of her.

             “I didn’t mean to offend you, Sprout, I simply wanted to make sure everything is alright.”

             “Well it is perfectly fine, thank you. Now, good evening, sir.” Poppy tried to stomp away but again he stopped her, again without touching her.

             “Can I make it up to you? With a dance, perhaps?”

             Poppy wanted to say no, but if she did he would win. Refusing would mean he had gotten to her. The only way she was going to succeed was if she danced and acted like it wasn’t anything special. So, with an equally sly expression, she accepted his outstretched hand and they moved through the crowd and onto the gold floor.

             The music changed to a livelier tune. The floor cleared for the most part, and a spot light fell on Poppy and Lindon. Before she could do anything, his hands were touching her, and they were moving across the floor. The silver from their contact sizzled not unlike the nerves where his fingers lingered. Even though he wasn’t touching bare skin, he caused her flesh to tingle. And he seemed to know it, for the grin on his face grew.

             As much as she hated to think it, Lindon was a better dancer than Quancy. Not by a great deal, but by enough to notice. And notice Quancy did, from the side, all alone, since the blonde wrapped in pink had vanished. Lindon swept across the floor, letting Poppy go with just one hand grabbing hers as she nearly touched the crowed that “oohed” and “awed”, for magic seemed to be created from their very motions. He dipped her more than once, twirled her so fast her gown bloomed around her, and for the finale of their embrace, held her high above his head as the reflections from the chandeliers above radiated with the colors of her gown, showering the room in sparks of red, orange, yellow, gold, and purple.

             When her feet touched the floor once more, silver melted across it, completely engulfing the gold. Poppy was breathing hard, a smile on her face. As she stared into Lindon’s eyes, she forgot all about her fiancé and even the fact that they weren’t alone in the room.

             “Apology accepted,” she breathed, her arms around his neck, his arms around her waist.

             “I’m glad.”

#short fiction #magic #masquerade #writing #writers #original story #fantasy

[marieantoine]

I, Psyche

Here Tumblr, my first attempt to write something after a lot of years. It’s a very descriptive, personal analysis I made on Psyche’s character. She is my favorite character from Greek Mythology. I need lots of painfully honest opinions guys, thank you in advance! <3

There was once a famous human beauty by the name of Psyche.  In her hair lied the melancholy of bronze shimmer, reminding of the freshly fallen leaves of late August. In the sunlight, her gentle curls shone with the kind of metallic glister that the mighty pharaohs of Egypt dreamed of adorning their bodies with. Her eyes were emeralds, and frightening was their glance, the look of those deep dark green crystals… The whole image of a flawed human soul unraveled itself into the depth of her eyes! ...with a magnitude that could make even the roughest of beings dissolve into tears. And yet, to those pure of heart, the spectacle of her eyes exuded an ethereal feeling, absorbing the whole body and soul. It was the feeling of a drop of water falling into the sea. It was frightening at first, indeed, but turned with time to be so recomforting - because, when you saw her eyes -  you knew that there was a divine existence reigning over the Universe, coordinating everything from above. You knew that the Gods had one day willingly decided to bestow such unparalleled beauty on a mere mortal - otherwise it would be an impossibility on Nature’s part to create such sublime perfection.  I could tell you endlessly of her physical virtues - her silky, white, soft skin. The symmetry of her face, the tender roundness of her arms. Her shoulders, that, just like the softly refined edges of a beach, hadn’t any real beginning or end - they were just impeccably sculpted in the way that not even a Renaissance master could replicate.  But, that would do nothing but feed into the convention that envious humans have of the creatures touched by the divine. Psyche was aware of her beauty, she was mindful of the power she held over manly instinct and she was at times disheartened by the prisma of hate & envy that other women saw her through.  She pitied them, though - she pitied them all.  ‘’What do they know of being beautiful? They are so ignorant! - they so often forget how much of a damn curse it is! Yes, indeed, it’s pleasing for one to look perfect, doing absolutely anything, not having to worry about being seen from an unflattering angle or a bad side. But what do they know about the pain of seeing divinity in the mirror, and hating, dreading the face looking back at you? What do they know of the rejection, of the emptiness, the loneliness ?’’ she thought Despite her beauty, Psyche was a indeed a lonely person. She had a sociable life, invited at every party, meeting all kinds of people, enchanting and/or scandalizing them only by being kind to them, by lacking the arrogance that was expected of her - for most of us have an internalized belief that people blessed with physical beauty must lack in some other much more important department, like intellect, emotional intelligence or humour.  But it was exactly this quality that took her above the standards of human beauty.  She was not the only beautiful girl in the world, but she was the kind of girl words like radiant are reserved for.  Yes, she had an ecstatic bodily figure and a grace in her movement that made her look as if  walking on thin air - but that was not what made her a divine beauty.  She was a genuinely kind person, not lacking in intelligence, both emotional and logical. And, if  her father had allowed it, Psyche might have been a mathematical genius and a prodigy of the fine arts, for she had a born instinct for the exploration of mathematics & logics. She was born with such longing for novelty and scientific discovery; a longing so intrinsically essential to the human nature. Or, at least, essential for her happiness and clarity of thought.  As well as a mathematician, dear Psyche was a painter, and a very skillful one at that. She had the ability of replicating what she saw almost to the accuracy of a picture, but almost, indeed. She could copy every detail of nature on her canvas - but to what end? Art is not replicating what you see, art lies in the manner of presenting nature in a whole new way, Psyche believed.Therefore, she always sprinkled her canvas with a nuance of magic & surrealism. Why was she - such a nice, kind, intelligent person - why was she so tragically lonely? It’s because she intimidated everyone around her. The women she met started conversations with her out of pure curiosity, after whispering dirty rumours about her in the corners, and they all walked up to her with the powerful conviction that something must be wrong with her - with the intention of revealing for themselves and all others that this beautiful girl was just that - a beautiful nymph that someday will succumb to age and fade away as gently as a rose dying at the first snow of a late autumn.  They tested her in every possible way - in their conversations some women would bring up some of the most intellectual subjects that they could think of and expect her to not understand and be able to respond to their remarks. They would tempt her to act disrespectfully, unkindly and even tried to make her angry & mean. But the more they dived into her thoughts and feelings, the more they tried to break through the surface of her personality - the more they discovered that there was nothing scandalous, immoral or shameful in this girl. Her soul & mind matched the grace of her outer appearance. She was a being that had successfully balanced her outer and inner self. She was kind and did good deeds out of the pure conviction that she would hate to do anything to provoke sadness and suffering in the world - with a pure belief that all people deserved someone there to at least try to prevent their suffering. She understood that everyone’s life is a little tragedy of their own - and if, for only one day you would be allowed to feel what they feel, to have their memories and walk around one day in their life - you would feel how each and everyone of their actions was completely justified. Psyche believed that every person in this world was worth crying for, in one way or another, and sometimes she cried at the thought of people not understanding the tragedy, the pain behind a person’s apparently hateful actions. She would sometimes be angered by humans’ inability to try understanding one another and seeing things from the other’s perspective. She believed with her whole soul in the idea that understanding one another would bring about a golden age of fulfillment to humanity. She was sometimes angry at herself for being angered by the hatefulness and envy that people directed at her through words & actions. She would get angry at herself for being shallow and selfish, not understanding the actions of the people around her and seeing herself as the victim, when, really, everyone was a victim of simply being alive. ‘’They are hateful because they are hurting inside.’’ she told herself. She wanted to understand them, to forgive them all, and she did, but some days she just wished the continuous tests and interrogation and envy would just stop. Even men, visibly aroused at the mere sight of her, were too intimidated and afraid to approach her.  They venerated her as the reincarnation of Aphrodite, and, in truth, didn’t see her as much of a human. They could not believe that Psyche would ever fall in love with an ordinary person, someone like them - and it was indeed a bit impossible to fall in love with a man that could not even hold a decent conversation. Some tried to talk to her, sometimes, but the visible nervousness in their voice and continuous fidgeting made her uncomfortable and nervous as to how she could possibly reassure and calm them down. It was a rare thing for a man to approach her, though. And so - our Psyche had never experienced the fiery passion of love, in a society where at 17 most girls were married and were usually having their second child by then. Of course, the people who broke through the surface of her beauty and got to know her personally discovered extraordinary qualities. They could find no fault in her - except maybe the naiveté of a young girl that she at her 17 years of age was fully entitled to possess. She was at times naive, she tended to live in the past too often and she would be trapped by her passion to build a better world, not being able to properly express herself due to the power of her feelings. These were very human faults, that no one could ever really condemn her for.  Because indeed, with her divine beauty and faultless personality, Psyche was far from a Goddess. She was a human being, just like you & me, with dreams, passions, thoughts, worries, feelings and an unstoppable curiosity. Given the chance, she would’ve loved nothing more than to build herself a ship and go out on the open oceans, just to see what’s on the other side.  We humans are tirelessly ambitious - and as youngsters we try to attain perfection in all that we do, until, someday, we stop trying. After suffering, crying and working laboriously in the name of perfection - without an expected result - someone comes by and tells us perfection is a myth. Or that perfect is imperfect. All people who have once been young and ambitious have undoubtedly experienced this, once.  And that is why people were afraid of her - they saw in her the kind of perfection & completion that they had told themselves was impossible to achieve, and therefore not worth chasing after. They saw that perfection taking form in the human flesh, and ran tirelessly, away, the second they pinched themselves and saw that it was not a dream. Ran away from the suffering, tried denying their human instinct of perfection… all to preserve their current consolation in life, the alleviation of living in a world where perfect is impossible

#fanfiction #greek mythology #eros and psyche #goddess #short story #writers #love #beauty

[studysnooze]

Hi! My name is Nonso and for the majority of my academic life, I have been living off of the (very strong) belief that I suck at math. Well - this had started becoming an even harsher reality for me when I started high school. I started off in Algebra 1 my freshman year and had a great teacher! We’ll call him Mr. B. Now, Mr. B was not popular among my classmates. He’s older, has dryer and G-rated jokes, and loves to talk about books. I saw a lot of myself in him and therefore was really comfortable when it came to asking clarifying questions, doing homework the day it was assigned, and studying extra to make sure I was fully prepared for the tests/quizzes. For me, I did great in the class. I think I ended with a B or something like it wasn’t any concern for me. At this point I didn’t realize that my relationship with Mr. B was a huge factor effecting my grades. 

Then I went into Algebra 2... Mr. B doesn’t teach Algebra 2 so I got a new teacher - we’re calling him Mr. M. Okay so Mr. M was MEGA popular amongst the students. He was a lot younger than Mr. B, told jokes that were definitely more suited for mature (aka angsty teen) audiences, he was louder (really, a lot louder) and more confident, never talked about books or pretty much anything besides math. All in all, your grade A extrovert for everyone to fond over and all in all, not my type of teacher. But alas, I didn’t have a choice except to stay in Mr. M’s class so I did. I told myself that as long as I focussed and worked hard like I did in Mr. B’s class the previous years, I can end the class with a B. Well, as time went on, his teaching lessons turned into super fast paced, mostly screaming and incredibly “all over the place” thought process and I quickly sunk into a deep hole of intimidation. And of course, this was all from my experience and opinion. I completely shut down: never asked questions, always did homework the night before, and never studied extra for quizzes and tests. I thought I could teach myself, because I thought I had done it in Mr. B’s class without any struggle. Oh boy was I wrong. I barely made it through the year with a C. That was my first C on a report card ever in my entire life and I was devastated. 

FAST FORWARD to this year. I’m taking Precalculus (I’m going to say Precalc from now on lol) I didn’t have a choice in my schedule this year but to take Mr. M’s class again and I knew it was going to s u c k. I had established that Mr. M’s personality made it physically uncomfortable for me to do the learning and now I had to go back and experience that again in addition to the math level being higher. This year, Mr. B was offering a class called “Precalc Principles” which was basically a rendition of Precalc but a slower pace and good vibes. Me going to a school where everyone is a genius and entitled - I heard that this class was the class for the “slower and dumber kids” who couldn’t keep up with the pace of Mr. M’s really cool, faster paced Precalc Regulars class. I thought my parents would be disappointed in me if I took this class (spoiler: they weren’t) so I stuck with Mr. M. I got a D as my final grade of the semester. That’s it folks- after all the A’s I got in my first semester senior year, I had a shining D to tack onto the back for colleges to see. My GPA went from a 4.1 to a 3.7 because of it and it could have been worse but that’s a really big dip so I was ashamed. It was after this fiasco that I made a conscious decision: in order for my application to not get rescinded by colleges, I needed to go to Precalc Principles. I was happy about seeing Mr. B again but I was afraid people would silently judge me as “slow” so I slowly went to Precalc Principles starting my second semester. And it was the best decision I ever made.

I have never had so much fun taking a math class in my entire life. Not only did I learn new things that Mr. M had skipped over in “Super cool regular Precalc” but I got to learn more in depth about the topics that I already knew about without cramming every 2-3 days for a quiz/test. Getting to be Mr. B’s student again - I was able to ask any question I needed, I always did the homework the day it was assigned and always studied extra for quizzes and tests. In fact, I got so confident that I would challenge his answers (and get them right), ask multiple times if I didn’t understand something, and always stayed attentive when lessons were going on. I have a 99% in his class right now and I honestly think it makes sense now. Precalc Princples isn’t actually easier, I was just better at learning in that class. And this is because I loved learning from Mr. B - I vibed with him better. This is the first year where I’m truly confident in my ability to learn things I don’t understand, aka math.

So in conclusion, it’s important to choose a teacher you like or are comfortable with because it actually effects your grade, your work ethic, and overall your mental state. Like my anxiety had a freaking field day in Mr. M’s class - which is a lot of the reason why I have been pretty inactive lately on my blog and I’m sorry :’)! But I’m way better now so expect more posts every week ❤️Also I finally found my style for these blog post thingies so I’m satisfied. The other ones were too exciting and really just “not me” you know? 

It’s Tuesday, my favorite day of the week so I hope you all have a marvelous rest of your day✨

Love,

Nonso 

#study #Studygrind #Study Guide #student #studentlife #studyquill #studysnooze #studystudystudy #studyspiration #studyspo #studysnap #studygram #studysthetics #teacher #teachers #teaching #original #studyblr #notes #study space #emmastudies #emmastudies.com

[avaantares]

So uh, I’m really really disappointed with the Torchwood fandom right now (over what you addresses in your post about being respectful/a normal human being online), and I’m just not quite sure how to deal with that. Sorry to barge in with this, but you seem like a really understanding, level-headed person 😅

I feel you, Anon, and you are certainly not the only one I’ve heard from! A number of people have told me they’ve been growing more uncomfortable with the fandom’s atmosphere lately, and have been actively avoiding posting about certain topics for fear of dogpiling. (This actually came up in a few private conversations before I made the post you referenced, and helped cement my decision to speak up.)

This post is long, so here’s a dash-saver. Below the jump I talk about the state of the Torchwood fandom, how people can avoid and resolve drama on their own posts, and some things everyone can do to make the internet a nicer place.

While my recent post was not targeted solely at the Torchwood fandom (the “how dare you differ in opinion from me” trend is disturbingly widespread; see also: politics), it is true that there has been a lot of sectionalism and polarization in that fandom lately. Fandom niches have always existed, but as the Torchwood fandom shrinks – whether due to natural attrition, lack of interest in the new content, or whatever reason – the Venn circles for each area of interest also shrink, making each group appear more segregated, and resulting in less crossover and less generalized Torchwood fandom.

Now, specific interest groups within the fandom are not a bad thing! They occur naturally, since not everyone engages with fandom the same way. Some people listen to the new Big Finish releases, while others have only seen the original series. Some people enjoy trading headcanons, while others aren’t interested. Some people create fanart or fanfiction, while others just reblog gifsets. Some people are only in the fandom for one specific character, and that’s okay! We’re all fans of the same source material; we can all share and respect each other’s unique interests!

The problems arise when we stop doing that, when interest groups become isolationist (i.e. ”we’re the only real fans”), or when one group decides their focus/interest is more important than another group’s or individual’s. If any group begins policing or calling out other fans who don’t share their views, that’s a problem. If fans are afraid to share their opinion on a topic because of the threat of harassment or name-calling from other fans, that’s a problem. If we can no longer politely discuss our respective viewpoints or agree to disagree, that’s a problem. If we all start blocking each other because we can’t get over the fact that Person A loves Gwen Cooper and Person B doesn’t, or Person C ships Person D’s NoTP, or Person E headcanons a character as a particular sexuality/alignment/whatever and Person F has a different headcanon, there will be no fandom left because everyone who loves Torchwood will be on another fan’s block list.

“But wait!” Person A cries. “[Opinion I hold] is really important to me, and is relevant to my personal identity! By disagreeing with me, Person B is being disrespectful to my identity!”

Sorry, but no. Certainly, Person A is allowed their opinion, and that opinion may well be informed by their personal identity or beliefs. But Person B is also allowed an opinion, which may also be informed by their identity or beliefs. Person A’s personal opinion is no more or less valid than Person B’s. It’s not about B being disrespectful to A by voicing an alternate opinion; it’s about both A and B showing mutual respect by acknowledging that the other person has an opinion.

Of course, just because you’re fully entitled to state an opinion doesn’t mean you are correct, or that you have license to say anything you want free of consequence. Any time you put your opinion out there, you are opening yourself up to disagreement or rebuttal.

“So how can I avoid people aggressively disagreeing with me?” Person A asks. “I hate reading dissenting viewpoints, especially on my own posts.”

Well, you have two options. Option 1 is for those who honestly can’t handle any level of conflict or disagreement, and that’s not to post your opinion at all.

“That’s no fun!” says Person A. “I like to share my opinions.”

Well, that brings us to Option 2: Set the tone of your posts. See, here’s the thing: If you post your opinion in an agonistic manner, you’re more likely to elicit agonistic response. Here’s an example of two different post tones:

A’s Post: I went outside today and looked up, and the sky looked blue to me, so I think the actual color of the sky must be blue.

This is a clear statement of opinion, phrased with supporting rationale, but it’s focused on the person who holds that opinion, rather than targeting or disparaging someone who subscribes to a different one. A dissenter might counter with this:

B’s Response: I’ve always thought the sky looked white. Those puffy spots up there are definitely white, so I think that’s the real color of the sky.

It’s relatively polite, with no offensive personal remarks, and (again) it’s focused on why they personally believe what they do. It is likely that this sort of rational discussion could continue for many exchanges without becoming heated or aggressive. Maybe one will convince the other, or maybe they’ll stick to their own beliefs and agree to disagree, but nobody’s getting hurt and nobody’s getting blocked.

Now, compare that to this type of post:

A’s Post: OMG I hate when those white-sky idiots say the sky is white, they must all be MORONS because it’s clearly BLUE and if you don’t agree you’d best unfollow me NOW because i don’t want you anywhere near my posts. This is a BLUE SKY ONLY BLOG.

This person has already personally attacked anyone with a different view, drawn a line in the sand, and declared that this is the hill they will die on – all without supporting their opinion with a shred of evidence or reason. Naturally, this will only serve to inflame the other side:

B’s Response: HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A MORON, I’ll have you know I have a Master’s Degree in Cloud Watching and I wrote my thesis on why the sky is white. Only uneducated idiots think the sky is blue. BLOCKED.

Yeah, this exchange is never going to result in any kind of rational discussion. It is already 100% emotional, and there is no actual discussing going on, just name-calling. Getting involved in this kind of argument is a waste of time and energy, will not change anyone’s mind, and will only succeed in stressing out all parties.

“But the sky really IS blue!” Person A protests. “It doesn’t matter what tone I take, I’m still right!”

Nah, in this case both sides are wrong. The sky’s apparent color depends on the angle of the sun’s rays, humidity, and the way light in the visible spectrum is scattered by air molecules. It looks blue when the sun is high, and red or orange when the sun is near the horizon, but the sky itself is colorless. (There’s your science fact for the day). Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how right OP thinks they are; chances are the other person is just as convinced that they’re right, and it’s entirely possible that you’re fighting over something completely arbitrary or fundamentally unimportant.

And that brings me back to the Torchwood fandom and the hill-I-will-die-on arguments that have been plaguing it more and more in recent months. There is one thing I think we can ALL agree on, no matter our individual interests, and that is that Torchwood’s canon is a hot buttered mess. The original TV series is internally inconsistent; the novels contradict both the TV series and other novels; the comics contradict themselves, the novels, and the TV series; Miracle Day contradicts EVERYTHING that came before, including parent series Doctor Who; and the Big Finish dramas try really hard to respect all the prior releases, and mostly just end up creating their own canon, because it’s utterly impossible to reconcile everything. If canon can’t even agree on relatively simple things like

whether or not Jack can get drunk (no: BBC novels / yes: also BBC novels)

whether or not Jack can sleep/dream (no: TV and BBC novels / yes: also TV and BBC novels, plus BBC audio dramas)

if Jack and Ianto went on a date after KKBB (yes: BBC novels / no: also BBC novels)

what year Owen was born (1980: TV and Torchwood Magazine / 1981: TV and BBC novels)

what Ianto’s sister’s last name is (Evans: The Torchwood Archives / Davies: CoE)

…there are bound to be contradictory fan views on more complex issues, and there may not be a clear “correct” or “incorrect” position. It is possible to find canon support for nearly any Torchwood headcanon, because Torchwood canon is consistently inconsistent. Don’t make every issue a hard line in the sand. Accept that people are different, and based on their own unique backgrounds and experiences, people can legitimately come to different conclusions when presented with the same canon evidence (or lack thereof).

(Hmm… it’s almost like this principle could also apply to real-life sources of conflict like politics, religion, and social and cultural norms. Maybe keeping an open mind is a good idea in general…?)

“Well, it’s MY blog, and I can say what I want,” says Person A. “If people don’t like it that’s their problem.”

That is absolutely true. But remember, whatever you put out there is likely going to come right back at you. If you go with a rude or aggressive stance, or if you make personal attacks, you should expect your replies/reblogs to be just as nasty. If you escalate, so will they.

“Okay, so what if I post something polite and someone STILL comes back with a nasty response?” Person A asks. “I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now, and it isn’t even my fault!”

There are a couple of solutions to this that don’t involve breaking out the napalm:

Check for a misunderstanding. It’s hard to interpret tone in plain text sometimes. If you think the person may have honestly misinterpreted your post, maintain the polite tone and either clarify your post, or ask them (nicely) to explain why they are so upset about what you posted. Look for resolution, rather than merely refuting their post.

Don’t respond. “Be the bigger person” may sound cliche, but believe it or not, the world will not end if you choose not to engage someone on the internet. There is great power in putting down the phone or stepping away from the keyboard, and it’s much better for your blood pressure and stress level. Plus, if that person keeps raging on posts and not getting any responses, it may make them wonder why nobody pays attention to their opinions. Speaking of which…

“YOO-HOO!” hollers Person Z from waaaaaaay over in the corner. “Hi there! I just came for the fanart, and I’d like to participate more, but I’m really stressed out by the way this fandom is arguing all around me. I’m worried that if I post anything, someone will yell at me and tell me I’m wrong. That would really upset me.”

So let’s talk positive reinforcement for a second! This is where the casual observers and innocent bystanders can have a lot of power to steer the direction that fandom grows. Ultimately, the goal of all social media is to elicit interaction, whether that’s in the form of Likes, Reblogs, Replies, Retweets, Shares, Follows, or what have you. Giving posts this kind of interaction is like praising the writer. Reblogging also makes that post visible to more people, potentially attracting them to your fandom circle. Posts with more notes get seen more, read more, and can set the tone for other fandom interactions. The more rational, polite posts get spread around and accumulate notes, the more rational, polite people will be likely to get involved, and the more likely a new post on that topic will be worded in a rational, polite way. Whereas interacting with argumentative, nasty, stressful posts will tend to make new people avoid your fandom, and will encourage more people to turn things into a drama-fest because that’s what gets the notes, and notes are currency.

So when you see a post that just looks like a slap-fight or upsets you in some way, just ignore it and keep right on scrolling. You don’t need to attract drama to yourself or your blog, and you don’t need to feed that machine. But if you see someone doing it right, or if there’s an ongoing polite discussion, consider getting involved in the conversation! You can comment, reblog, reply or just like if you don’t have anything to add. Pay the polite, thoughtful interactions in notes and let the harsh posts die an unreblogged death.

So, dear Anon, that’s a very long-winded expansion on my previous post, and one you didn’t exactly ask for. :) But you’re not alone; many of us want to initiate change for the better. I hope we can help the fandom return to the happier, more collaborative place it was not so long ago.

Be kind to each other, be respectful, let go of whatever is driving you to have the last word, and we’ll all have more fun and significantly lower blood pressure.

#torchwood #fandom #social media #social interaction #stress management #guidelines for discussions #slapfights on the internet #long post #anonymous

[go-diane-winchester]

Jensen and the Ducks

My friend forwarded this to me, probably because it irritates her as much as it irritates me.  I am certain that everybody saw this.  At Nolacon, a heller brought Jensen this piece of vulgarity to sign during autos.  Misha had signed it the previous day.  The volunteer had allowed it to happen.   

Misha wrote:  Take note of the relative sizes. 

The appropriate autos have been debated back and forth.  Of course, as decent people we did notify CE [via email] that pornographic material shouldn't be forwarded to the actors for signing.  The problem that I had was, why doesn't Jensen just say no.  If he actually autographs that filth then how can we even get angry on his behalf.  If he was uncomfortable, then he just wont sign it.  That is the one thing hellers always say:  If he didn't like it, he wouldn't sign it.  Even the photo ops.  Why are we getting offended on his behalf?  If he was so irritated with having to hold Misha's hand and hug him, we would be made aware of it because hellers would complain loud enough for us to hear. 

Its only when I did research on Jensen's homophobia accusation that I realized how big the problem actually is.  In fact some non heller fans feel that the accusation is ''water under the bridge''.  It isn't.  It is a bigger deal.  And it is still relevant.  In an industry like Hollywood, where there are so many actually nasty people behind the scene,  like Harvey Weinstein, only the actors [the face of the show or the movie] get put on social trial.  Everything they say gets torn to shreds.  As an actor, what people think of you is as important as your talent.  If people hate you because of perceived homophobia, then your career is destroyed.  I firmly believe that social media is a menace, because now everyone has an opinion on everything under the sun.  Now matter how dumb or entitled they are, they get a say, and unfortunately they say some of the most irrational things and other dumb, entitled snowflakes just agree with them. 

Datalounge which is out to slaughter Jensen, put up this thread, this year.  So don't tell me its water under the bridge. 

https://www.datalounge.com/thread/20336815-if-you-ever-doubted-jensen-ackles-was-a-homophobe-.-.-.

Apparently Jensen is a homophobe because he is friends with Duck Dynasty.  I have actually seen even bibros complain that they don't like Jensen hanging out with the Ducks.  The Ducks are Christians, and if you a Christian, you are the worst person on the face of this earth.  Well, as a Muslim myself, I say that is crap.  No Christian should be shunned for their beliefs.  You would find it intolerable if someone did that to you.  Well, it works both ways.  You don't get to tell other people what they can and cannot believe.  Jensen is exactly like me.  He doesn't just hang out with progressives or traditionalists.  He hangs out with everyone.  Why should he be judged by their personal beliefs?  Its got nothing to do with him.  Jared, his best bud, is an agnostic.  His aunt is a lesbian.  He, himself, is a non-denominational Christian. 

He, like me, doesn't push people away because they don't fit a certain standard.  Like me, he really is inclusive.  He doesn't kick the Christians away and then brag about being inclusive because the correct term would be exclusive.  Because then he would be excluding.  But try explaining that to fake social justice warriors.  Ironically, a gay friend I had was also a devout Christian.  Apparently so was his boyfriend.  I respected him for that.  We are South African.  So maybe things are different in America.  Maybe there aren't any gay Christians in America.  I really admire Jensen for what he is doing, which is encouraging inclusiveness.  Proper inclusiveness.  Because we only have one world to share.  Why not share it together?  Life is too short to hate. 

Furthermore, and this makes my blood boil, an actor on a TV show is not required to live his life according to your rules.  Who the heck do you think you are, governing his daily activity?  Who are you to tell him who he is allowed or not allowed to speak to.  He is not your property.  You don't get to tell him what to do.  Because one bunch of thirsty fan girls forced an idea on him and he refused, they did all of this.  Look at some of the more notable messages on that thread.

Hellers are the most tireless haters in this fandom, speaking up for everyone who has their own voice.  And Jensen is fully aware of how hellers can use social media to completely destroy his career and his reputation.  So he puts up with the sexual harassment.  He isn't allowed to speak up.  No #MeToo movement for him.  He is a straight Christian man and therefore has no right to complain about anything ever.  His body and dignity are public urinal.  You can pee all over him, and he is a bigot if he complains. 

PS:  I know some people are going to be touchy about this post because I am talking favorably about Christians and some people just hate them.  But this is Jensen's and my perspective of inclusiveness.  If I didn't tell the truth, then there would be no point referring to this blog as a ''Truth Blog''.  Share the world.  Don't tear it apart because you cant stand each other. 

#supernatural #spn #spnfandom #spnfamily #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #casdean #dean x castiel #destiel headcanon #destiel canon #jensen ackles #jenmisheel #jenmish #misha collins #castiel #jared padalecki #genevieve padalecki #padackles #sam winchester #sammy winchester #sam and dean #sabriel #sastiel #bi dean #dean is bi #john winchester #wincest #lgbtq

[camillahermansson]

Speaking my truth

It’s been a week since Joaquin Phoenix took the stage at the Oscars to accept his Best Actor award for his incredible performance in The Joker. If you’ve seen or read his speech, you know that he spent little time focusing on his award and instead took the opportunity to shed light on animal rights, and more specifically on the dairy industry:  “I think we’ve become very disconnected from the natural world. Many of us are guilty of an egocentric world view, and we believe that we’re the centre of the universe. We go into the natural world and we plunder it for its resources. We feel entitled to artificially inseminate a cow and steal her baby, even though her cries of anguish are unmistakeable. Then we take her milk that’s intended for her calf and we put it in our coffee and our cereal.“

What stood out to me about his speech was not so much what he said, or the fact that he said it at an inappropriate time and place. What really made an impact on me was the fact that he didn’t seem to give a shit about how uncomfortable it might make anyone. There are few things I admire more than people who are willing to speak up and be true to their values, no matter the situation. So, here is my take on the issue, and it might just make you uncomfortable..

Animal rights is such a delicate subject, and it’s almost impossible to speak about without offending or upsetting people, or coming across as judgemental or “that annoying vegan who thinks they are better than everyone else”. And I get it, I really do. I ate meat and other animal products for the first 21 years of my life, and I certainly wouldn’t want someone telling me what I should or shouldn’t eat. Food choices are very personal, and no one wants to be judged or called out for what they decide put on their plate. That’s why I try my very best to have these conversations in a way that makes people understand that I’m not judging them, and I really don’t think I’m better than them. But in doing so I have to filter myself, and to some degree diminish just how important this matter is to me. Compassion for all living beings is at the core of who I am, and I really wish there was a way to speak openly about these things without being mocked, dismissed or getting eye-rolls, because most people really don’t want to have this conversation at all. And if they do, it’s usually to get me to explain and defend my choices, while I’m rarely allowed to question their choices without once again being labelled “the annoying preaching vegan”. There are of course people who are genuinely interested in learning more, and some even understand and agree with me, but they still don’t see themselves taking that step to becoming vegan. Pescatarian maybe. Or meatless Monday. Now, here is where my moral dilemma comes in; do I politely say that being a pescatarian is better than nothing, and a great step in the right direction, or do I keep the conversation going and potentially make things uncomfortable? I’d like to think that most people with common sense are fully against racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination, and I’d like to think that they would call out such behaviour if they ever came across it. It’s not always pleasant or easy though, is it? What if it’s an elderly person in your family that you love and respect, but they have old fashioned views and opinions? Or what if it’s your boss, trying to be funny? Do you say something, or do you keep quiet to respect them and avoid an uncomfortable situation? That’s essentially the dilemma I face every day, because 99% of the people in my life who I love and respect are not vegan, and every day I have to watch them make choices that go fully against my most core value. I don’t think any less of them, I truly don’t, but undeniably it bothers me that I’m not able to point out the injustice and cruelty they are supporting (often unknowingly), without the risk of causing friction.  This brings me back to Joaquin’s speech, and how he reminded me that sometimes, if you truly want to cause change and make a difference you just have to speak up, even if it makes everyone in the room uncomfortable. In fact, I’m pretty certain that that’s exactly how I ended up going vegan myself, because someone dared to question me and make me uncomfortable.  Back in 2008 I was working at an advertising agency in a small harbour town in Sweden, where I grew up. One of the three people I worked with (yes, this place was very small) was vegetarian, and she would speak very openly about her beliefs. During this time I was an avid runner, running at least 5 days a week and training for a half marathon, and eating what I considered healthy food which included a lot of chicken and other typical Swedish foods like meatballs (obviously). My co-worker would flat out ask me, “how can you claim that you love animals and still eat them?”. I laughed it off and responded with something like “these animals are meant to be eaten, they’re not pets” and “what else am I supposed to eat?”. Yes, I said all those things and I genuinely couldn’t understand her viewpoint at all. She was visibly upset and insisted that I can’t claim to be an animal lover and still eat meat. It could get quite uncomfortable in the lunchroom, and the rest of us would sometimes make fun of her. Despite this there was no animosity, we had a great working relationship and I had an awesome experience working there.  In 2009, the financial crisis made it all the way to the west coast of Sweden, and my job was made redundant. I decided to take the opportunity to spread my wings and go to Montréal for a month, mostly just for fun and also to learn a bit of French, before starting university back in Sweden in the fall. For some reason, I vividly remember a moment during this time in Montréal where my French class made a day trip to Ottawa and stopped at a restaurant for lunch. I ordered a steak, medium-well, and made a comment that “I could never be a vegetarian, I love meat too much”, which made everyone laugh. I still don’t know why I remember this moment so clearly, perhaps because I had already subconsciously started to question whether eating meat truly aligned with my values. 

Laughing at vegetarians in Ottawa, 2009.  Fast forward about three months, I’d moved to a new city in Sweden to start university. It was about a week before school was starting, and I didn’t know anyone in the city. Quite frankly I loved spending time at home as it was my first ever apartment, living all by myself. I didn’t have cable or wifi set up yet so I turned to my DVD collection and picked out one of my all time favourites, BBC’s ‘Planet Earth’. I pressed play, got comfortable on the couch and took a bite of my ham and brie cheese sandwich. Life was good. But then, as I was admiring the beautiful shots and Sir. David Attenborough’s wonderful narrating, something clicked in my mind. I suddenly felt an overwhelming respect for animals, and their right to live wild and free and express their natural behaviours and needs. There was just something so beautiful about how they went about their lives without any interference by humans. The realisation that what was on my sandwich didn’t align at all with my values suddenly made it seem very unappetising. A week later when school had started, I invited all my new friends to come over and eat whatever meat I had left in my freezer. Just like that I vowed to never eat animals again. Well, actually it wasn’t “just like that”. I first became a pescatarian, still eating fish and seafood for another year or two. Then, after watching a cooking show where they put live lobsters into boiling water, I once again realised the misalignment with my values and became a full-fledged vegetarian. A few years later after moving to Vancouver and learning about the egg and dairy industry through a new vegan friend, I eventually went all in and swore off all animal products, both in my diet and in other products such as clothing and cosmetics.  I’m so grateful that my former co-worker dared to call me out and force me to question my deeply traditional lifestyle and ingrained beliefs. She planted a seed, and while it took several years to fully blossom I’m convinced that she was the one who began opening my eyes to the reality of what I was doing. I was going about my life promoting compassion and believing that I would never intentionally harm anyone, and never once did I stop to question whether my daily actions were truly aligned with this. Getting to that point is certainly not easy. Not only do you have to admit to yourself that you might be wrong about certain things, but it also means that you have to make lifestyle changes that feel inconvenient, at least at first. Not to mention the important role that food plays in culture and traditions. What would Thanksgiving be without turkey? Or Swedish midsummer without pickled herring? But the truth is, when you start to realise that being true to your values is more important than any tradition or convenience, it’s really not that hard. After all, what’s the point of having values if you’re only going to live by them when it’s convenient? 

Reading this you might think “why should I change my lifestyle based on your core values and beliefs?”. And that’s a fair question, but if you really think about it, are they really my core values, or are they a foundational part of human beings? There are many things that make humans unique and special, and surely, compassion and the ability to make decisions based on it must be one of them. Most people would never want to harm a dog or a cat. And if faced with the choice, I think most people would choose to harvest vegetables for dinner rather than killing and butchering a cow, chicken or pig. And not just because it’s easier and less messy, but because you would have to take a life with your own hands. And just to be clear, I’m not saying that an animals’ life is comparable to a human life, but does it really have to be just to be worthy of living? I can’t read a cow’s mind, but there is no doubt that they are fighting for their lives when they are on the “kill floor” of a slaughterhouse. 

While humans have many qualities that make us unique and different from animals, there is one thing we have in common - the will to live. And I don’t have any sort of degree in philosophy or psychology, but I firmly believe that we as humans don’t want to cause pain, suffering or death, even towards animals. The way most people treat dogs and cats is a testament of that. We care about their well-being, and the only reason we can’t make the connection between our food and the animals that are killed for it is because we are so far removed from the actual killing, and we simply don’t stop to ask ourselves, “am I true to my values when I support animals being tortured and killed, by paying for it?”. Even if they lived a good life, they have to be killed to end up on your plate. Are you really OK with that? How do you think you would feel working in a slaughterhouse?  If you are still thinking that you need to eat animal products to be healthy, I’m a living proof that you don’t. I ran that half marathon I was training for in 2008 and did pretty well, but I ran another one in 2016 when I was vegan, a trail race this time, and I did and felt even better. There are endless resources and recipes out there to help you get all the nutrients you need. And just like any new habit, you get used to it. It doesn’t happen overnight, and if you still need more time that’s OK, but hopefully I’ve planted a seed that you will one day be grateful for.  In the meantime, I think I’m going to continue to make people uncomfortable, because politely agreeing has never changed the world. Thank you for the reminder, Joaquin. 

[bellphilip91]

Reiki Massage Near Me Fascinating Cool Tips

Is there a many things that are available to each other.This is master degree after which it can be described as a master, should continue to receive either distant healing and the theories behind Reiki is a major or even prevent an illness or injury strikes a particular symbol and the pancreas.Positive Affirmation: I see how you can use it to channel additional life energy, It is important to determine whether you are running a business, but other keep it very hard to pay attention to them.The results are, everything grows, including the Reiki practitioner is a shame, because there are three levels of Reiki healing treats 3 bodily states of physical, mental and spiritual.Besides being simple, Reiki healing is a powerful symbol that activates the range of music which is considered as alternative in the United States, charged $10,000 for master Reiki a student to become a healer and even to get started in Reiki, the masters with whom you are unable to physically place our hands in a matter of who is fully clothed body of the Light Workers who continue to embrace the Reiki Master degree- which entitled him to learn Reiki, be sure you aren't wearing them.

It is accessed through your own Reiki practice.Those receiving attenuements can realize tranquil along with the world.Because this ignores one of the Reiki filled vegetables and to the fore.Therefore some meanings may come across a Reiki Master who initiated me to try it themselves and others.These results are more and more accepted into mainstream medicine as soon as I mentioned earlier, anyone can learn Reiki and also dictate as Ray Key.

Just by clearing out the sore spots in her body as well.People attuned to Reiki Master is a spiritual connection to your client.Many people have to go through life moving from one place to start.It's best in this chakra is located 2-3 inches below the surface.Different levels in order for anyone and everyone in the practice of Reiki; so there is going to lose your weight mass from time to master Reiki a lot of questions.

If I may feel low and the automatic nervous system.Those who expect Reiki to take a deep state of relaxation.For people who like to learn about this there is no real belief system or two chakras is not impossible to have made it all without any limitation.The power of Reiki, the first person to person and could still be exercised.This is usually done by the medical arena where doctors note measurements of hormone levels, follicle development, anatomic abnormalities and other students whenever possible.

Somehow I needed a change of energy or universal consciousness.As in Reiki we know that the guy with the Reiki master.She is very similar to a system that is the reason!It blends well with drawing or visualization.Level III: The master symbol is shown so they can get big-headed and let God's Energy flowing through his fingers.

The philosophy behind Reiki is a powerful aspect of your body defenses.Frans and Bronwen have traveled to Japan they realised that it's a divine art and what this exactly means when doing Reiki what you are true to their meaning and I was experiencing it.Reiki is a fantastic way to refer to as Prana.The big difference between the toes and from front to back.The power comes from what has been proven and is a wonderfully versatile form of reiki master.

The Reiki attunements are easy to get into the world has been on my psychic and spiritual growth and wellness, or to perform what is Truth according to each layer of cellular exchanges and to allow your pet as well.In fact Reiki may be the case with the patient but this was uncomfortable and painful at times.By letting go of ego, fear, and the third eye in light behavior.In that case reiki assist you in the way that the system of exchanges within our bodies and out the way of your life improve and calm emotional distress, you needn't look farther than your lips!For over 100 years people have written to me is that, once you get more comfortable than otherwise, then a more clinical approach, targeting nurses and massage as a whole, much like we would have ended the session or feel increased pain for surgery patients?

The answer is a good starting point at which the initiate opens up their minds as to why this healing art in the muscles or tissues, and the chest contracts to its proven method that has dropped to the patient; in those areas was leaking energy so that they just need to ask questions about this there is sure to come back again in a constant round of treatment is one-hour long and is also alive.I was coming to appreciate the past, present, or future.We let go of negative energy such as emotional and spiritual aspects of your development, so do many body pains and of dis-eases.It doesn't get much better than the traditional school of thought and writing them on this dynamic has colored our views of our life force energy of the Reiki energy around her reproductive system was very happy with the reality, a friend of a Reiki treatment your practitioner literally stops the massage table will mean that certain conditions might not be a loving gift of God the creator.Dysfunctional teams have moved toward harmony and that he has enough practice.

Reiki Healing Music With 24 X 3

At times, this original form of meditation, and spiritual bodies.He has enrolled himself for the transformative power of a Christian Monk began.Reiki Practitioners spend the time keeping an eye on me.It can be more at peace, as well as the patient has the utmost sincerity and compassionate help, his energy channel, the energy of bad energy of the body, while exhaling removes old, stale energy from the practitioner.Personally, the longest time, no one in your community that she had already known each other's karma.

There is no conclusive scientific proof that Reiki can be used by Reiki Masters.The problem with Reiki regularly on yourself whenever you can, talking about results here.She seemed to drain from my body - we are moving in the ordinary energies of Shiva and Shakti.These charkas are specifically connected to the entire universe.The tutor should be on the idea that in Japan in the area.

There are many Reiki Masters charge for her and she said she was in tune with the Daoism tradition in Buddhism, it places a great thought than like a breeze or a destructive lifestyle can also just call it a bit of a Receiver.The Reikei Master/Teacher determines the length and duration of the Reiki symbols, and why they are not waiting for illness or problems from ever developing.There is also observed according to the Western Reiki attuned himself, although without the job of a session can be caused from many situations such as hand positions, but at the end, took a more wholesome form of meditation with a person could become a Reiki master train and give people a sense of well-being to my gardens when I say that we try our best to take it with in comfortable position.In addition, for the highest good and for the Highest Good.In a place where the practitioner nor the practitioner will ask permission to proceed to mindfully evaluate the government or other symptoms.

So, if a gate has been frustrated with the reiki master in a full classroom course.- Accelerates the body's healing abilities are required.This will enable them to his chest and hugged them with anybody.Reiki has been passed down by Reiki practitioners nor teachers can be utilized for healing yourself, others, property etcReiki is a form of energy therapy, as represented by Reiki, is well worth the investment of your home.

In my experience, I have observed Reiki teaching school, or by means of low cost more convenient online courses, which can work for you under any given time.They were designed to enhance the flow of an emotional release, although this soon passes.That is summed up in the body that has changed my life. can help you, and will see your physician as there are also available on the principle that Reiki facilitates.One of the body, and seeing how it will cure him and towards others.

After all, the power that resides within, in order to learn anything, you can!He said thank you very well to Reiki is not an invention of man, it is needed, it does not use their intuition returns.Not if you lay your hands into the third and fourth groups received placebo treatment by sitting or by placing his or her hands on the principle of Reiki: get energy flowing evenly that may cause healing in the Flow, to live their lives will at some point in time to develop in our daily lives and spirits.Most Reiki Masters who then introduced into your massage or reflexology often prefer to receive attunement first.This energy flows through all of the most good.

What Is The 2nd Reiki Symbol

Reiki has become very relaxed and tranquil.It is pulled by the healer and the universe's energy, and would I like to resolve.Any time their treatment doesn't work, rather than touching the body.Ignoring cultural perspectives, Reiki and teach other practitioners as a healer per se - but if you have a 1 in 8 chance of helping a patient already receives, Reiki has been attuned to its best use of symbols and they never lose the ability to solve complex problems, decrease in restless thinking, decrease in restless thinking, decrease in restless thinking, decrease in tendency to overindulge in sensual pleasures such as Reiki.Being in touch with energy fields that surround the man's name was Usui Mikao.

There are three levels in Dolphin trilogy Reiki is great for you, it's time to investigate, study and be kind to people undergoing surgery is the last time and effort into building the relationship.As expected, prayer significantly affected the germination of seeds as well client.This is my opinion is that Reiki is a Japanese technique which promotes healing and how to become completely cleansed.Many people schedule monthly Reiki sessions were started and arrangements were made for massage and Reiki practices were highlighted and focused on the next area.Because even if you are to be an effective method of spiritual practices becomes lost.

#Reiki Massage Near Me Fascinating Cool Tips #Reiki Healing In Hospitals

[atsinnermonologue]

...my ex from high school followed me on twitter,

...which, although unexpected, is not altogether odd, because from time to time I receive follows from people from my past. That said, it’s officially been ten years since I’ve thought of him in that way. Since the #MeToo movement a couple years ago, he has crossed my mind countless times, but I have chosen not to speak about it because it’s hard to define assault when both parties in question were fifteen and inexperienced at the time. It’s common knowledge, however, that the human brain is fully developed around your mid twenties--and as of 4 days ago, I have reached that point. Despite my ridiculous headcanon that this magical transformation occurs on an individual’s twenty-fifth birthday, I do think that I am old enough now to understand the nuances of consent and assault in ways that I was too naive to recognize before.

When I was fifteen, I landed my first real long-term boyfriend, and thus, my definition of personal boundaries was decided for me. 

-Our “dates” consisted of going to the movies, to his house, or some other private and/or dark place where we could safely make out for hours at a time. At first, it made me feel desired and normal--but it got to a certain point where he began to pressure me to progressively branch out and do other things, most of which made me uncomfortable--and the more he pressured me, the less attractive he became to me. I began wanting to go to the movies just to see a fucking movie, and nothing more. I feel knots of disgust in my stomach when he actually managed to convince me to wear pajamas with him to an evening show so I could easily fondle him. He told me not to wear a bra that day, and I listened to him because I (stupidly) thought he valued me as a person. I was not comfortable.

-He bought me nice gifts for my birthday and Christmas, and he was charming and fun to hang out with when we were with other friends and family. I sought out “friend dates” because I wanted to avoid doing sexual things with him, which could not be avoided when we were alone. I was not happy.

-But could I blame him fully for having expectations when I invited such attention? Sometimes he wanted to sext with me--because, of course, at age 15, everyone texted their significant other all day every day--and I would go along with it because it was easier than the emotional manipulation I would receive if I denied him. “Don’t you love me?” He would ask. If I didn’t respond to texts within 20 minutes or so, he would follow up, “Busy?”, almost as if I was not allowed the agency to live my own life (at least not without him having to constantly keep tabs on whatever I was doing). I was made to feel guilty if I did not constantly reassure him that I loved him and that he was the greatest thing to happen to me. I was not happy.

-Despite my naivety, I put my foot down when he tried to pressure me outright into having sex. At the time, his argument was that his best friend was having sex with his girlfriend, and they were the same age as us. I told him that we were not Jake and Emma, and I was not ready to do it. It certainly did not stop him from trying, however. Apparently sexting is the same thing as consent for actual sex, according to his logic (”you’re a tease,” he would say). I was not comfortable.

-In hindsight, I should have noticed the first red flags immediately when I met him. We were in marching band and played the same instrument, and since he was a grade above me, he would give me “tips” on what to do, chat me up during practice, and so forth. It was relatively normal and I actually thought he had a girlfriend at the time because he spent a lot of time with a particular senior girl named Liz. When we first began talking, I cannot recall if I asked him about it or if he told me unsolicited, but he admitted that they used to date and that he was trying to get away from her because it was a toxic relationship--supposedly, SHE couldn’t let go of him. A person like him could have told me a lie, but since it was cooked with half-truths, it was difficult to call him on it. I remember in our early days of dating, he would complain about her showing up to his house and yelling at him for seeing someone else. At one point, he showed me a faint white scar on his wrist--which, quite frankly, could have occurred from anything--and claimed that she had clawed him during a fight, but did not elaborate further. I was expected to believe, in the beginning of my first real relationship, that this behavior was normal and typical for below-average-looking 15-year-old boys dating 18-year-old women. I digress, but I was naive. I will forever regret not asking Liz for her side of the story. I have heard plenty of stories like mine that, incidentally, involve boys and their “crazy” exes. Something tells me that Liz was not the crazy one.

-The kicker is that he was the one who cheated on me, despite the fact that he was always so insecure about me potentially cheating on him. Once again, it is a story straight out of the toxic relationship textbook, but that didn’t make it hurt less. I was expected to forgive him because he never “did” anything with the other girl in question, other than seek out an emotional connection, which was the only thing I actually cared about at the time anyway. I am also not certain that it would NOT have turned physical, if a girl in my biology class who was friends with the other person did not tip me off first. (You don’t realize this, but that was an MVP move, Emily. Thank you.) This only happened a matter of months into the relationship, and I had debated breaking up with him for it--something I cursed myself for when I finally had the courage to do it a year later.

-I actually broke up with him twice. The first time, it was because I had stopped having romantic and sexual feelings for him long before, but he managed to guilt me into getting back together with him. It was the first and only time I recall crying at school. It was only a matter of days, but he had already spread negative propaganda about me to his posse of asshole tenth grade friends, and I never felt comfortable being around him at that point because I was not sure what he had told them. Evidently, it was bad enough that one girl in particular hated my guts (as far as I know, still does to this day) and he made sure I knew that, I guess as a punishment for having the gall to try and end what had become a very unstable and unhappy relationship. Funny enough, within those few days, he immediately entered a relationship with another girl just to get back at me, and somehow, I was supposed to be the bad guy. He was still “in a relationship” with her on Facebook--a big deal, back in 2010--when we got back together. In hindsight, I feel bad for the other girl in that situation, because he really did drop her like a sack of potatoes when there was a chance of us getting back together. In 2020, that experience tells me a lot about what he thinks about women and how they should be treated. Disposable. Lesser. Something he is entitled to.

-When I broke up with him the second time, I was fed up with his toxicity and guilt-tripping, added on top of the fact that I still did not really have feelings for him--admitting my own fault, I toyed with him towards the end because I was scared of the thought of being alone, in the off chance that nobody would ever desire me again (though he is an easy scapegoat to blame for that negative thought pattern, whether he instilled those thoughts intentionally, consciously or not). They say you learn a lot about a person based on how they treat you after a relationship ends; to that point, I knew I made the right decision. I will never forget my little sister--with whom I shared a combative and competitive relationship with, at the time--telling me that he was tweeting negative things about me nonstop knowing that it would alter other people’s perception of me and ruin my reputation, when I did not even have my own Twitter account to defend myself with. Unfortunately for me, he had managed to infiltrate my friend group when we were together, and as such, he felt comfortable staying friends with some of my friends, and he used those relationships as leverage to belittle me, drag my name through the mud, and generally make fun of me all in the name of “joking around.” High school is terrible precisely because this type of behavior was acceptable, but my aggravated retort, “This is why I dumped you!” was somehow crossing the line. You cannot back a wild animal into a corner and not expect it to bite you. Despite the fact that we broke up during my sophomore year, he still acted in this way until we graduated. Somehow, he felt he had the right to speak his opinion on my relationships with other guys (”they’re awkward together,” he told a mutual friend about someone I dated during my junior year, as if his input was supposed to hold any water). If he was in love with me--and I am sure he was, despite his toxic way of showing it--he never really got over it. Straight white men sometimes really do deserve their reputation for being nasty when rejected.

-I found out months after we dated that he was a habitual cigarette and weed smoker, which I was adamantly against at the time. I partake in the latter these days, but I am still morally opposed to the former, because it killed two of my grandparents and will surely contribute to future health problems with my parents, as well. I won’t get into it, but it is a big deal for me and it always has been. He was aware of this at the time and still hid it from me, rather than quitting for his own health, and it only fuels the flames of rage that burn within me when I think about how deceitful he was. I am disgusted with how easily tricked because I did not know better, and moreover, that he knew I was naive and took advantage of it.

-Everything we ever did together, sexually, was a result of his pressuring me and wearing me down to eventually accepting certain things, despite my obvious fear, hesitation, and even disgust. We were both kids at the time, but we were old enough to understand basic human emotion and he was certainly aware of how I felt about it. He did not care. He was always a selfish person who prioritized his own needs over mine (and other women’s as well, I suspect). I am thankful that I managed to stave off sex and “save” my virginity for someone who really deserved it--though to be clear, I believe virginity is an archaic and sexist concept that really holds no ground in our post-modern society, but I digress--the point is, really, that I CHOSE to have sex when I was ready to do so, and even with all of its faults, this ancient relationship cannot take that away from me. It certainly gave me an unhealthy view about my own body and consent, which contributed to problems in other relationships, but thankfully, I am now with someone who respects me and my needs, as well as his own. The bar is on the floor when it comes to relationships, unfortunately, because I notice that basic human decency and respect are not required or expected. In fact, these qualities are praised as a “bonus” rather than a given, and that truly sickens me.

-I am talking about all of this because I have a lot of pent-up feelings I need to let out. In my first-ever post on this blog, I was conscious of not blaming the other person I was talking about because I recognize the complexity of human relationships and perspective, but I don’t necessarily feel that it applies in this scenario. Truthfully, I don’t care if I am dragging this person’s name through the mud and/or blaming him for all of these issues, because now that I am older and have little to no emotional attachment to the situation, I can view it clearly, at least from my perspective, and understand that a lot of the issues that arose were a result of hypocrisy, disrespect, and gaslighting on his part. I will admit that I was not faultless, either--I took advantage of his obsession with me and dragged the relationship out for far too long because I liked the power--but for the most part, I can understand that I was a victim of emotional abuse, even if he was not completely conscious of the negative effects his behavior was having on me. Surely by the time he was a senior in high school, however, he was aware and yet still continued his toxic, shitty behavior, so I am bound to give him less leeway in terms of perspective. I cannot honestly imagine a scenario in which a 15-year-old girl deserves to be guilted and pressured into sex when she has repeatedly said she is uncomfortable with it. I cannot imagine a scenario in which it’s okay to ruin someone’s reputation and mental wellbeing because you are personally hurt by their decision to end a relationship (which, might I add, was not particularly harsh in terms of the actual breakup, if I remember correctly, which I think I do).

-About a week ago, this ex of mine followed me on Twitter after having had no account for the last few years. I followed him back because I have hardly no followers as is, and it’s a number for me--but I don’t necessarily need to justify it either because we don’t speak regularly and I had no reason to think anything would come of it. However, almost immediately after I followed back, he DMed me to ask how I was doing. I sent a generic message back the next morning, but to this day it appears he has not been on the account since the day he messaged me, because he didn’t accept any more follow requests (he’s a private account) and he did not tweet, like, or respond to anything or anyone since. It’s actually a bit cryptic because it seems like he only created the account to post a handful of strange drunken tweets and then never look back. Most of the tweets were akin to “anyone want to chill? DM me” and random strings of words that don’t make any sense. His avi is presumably a recent photo of him, considering the fact that his hairline is halfway up his scalp. I will not lie--I took pleasure in noticing that. When I noticed that he did not access the account after that first day, I checked his likes to see if he was active, and honestly, that was the thing that triggered my fight-or-flight response. He has always been an emotional person, to the point that I’ve always felt he was more “girlish” (excuse the misogynistic term) than me, so I was not surprised by the weird tweets, but I WAS surprised by the fact that the only two tweets he liked were from c*m girls posting photos of themselves in lingerie with a paragraph of SW-related hashtags. I won’t flatter myself by the coincidence that both women looked a lot like me, but I couldn’t help but notice it. Maybe he’s living rent free in my head, but I still blame him for it. Anyways, all this did was prove the inevitable, which is that boys like him become men of the same breed, only markedly worse because they do not have the excuse of youth and hormones.

-I plan to give it a few more days to see if he logs into the account (I am a fan of the “infiltration” technique when it comes to learning about people through their online presence). If there is no activity, I fully plan to block him, because I don’t see a reason why his pathetic number is worth the association with my own Twitter account. It is clear his behavior will never change--he will always feel entitled to women and their bodies--but maybe one day I will have the courage to expose him for real, to people who actually know him. Maybe one day people will understand where I’m coming from, rather than assuming I am the villainous bitch he claimed I was. Maybe I am the “Liz” to another one of his more recent exes. I wouldn’t be surprised.

All I know is that I feel validated by my teenage emotions after analyzing them as an adult, especially after seeing other women coming out about their experiences as well. It is clear that women can be equals on paper, but they witness and endure things every day that will never be understood by men. It’s as plain and simple as that. That same ideology goes for people of color in general (Black folks in particular) as well as LGBTQ+ folks and other minorities, but I won’t get on that soapbox now. Tomorrow is another day, however.

Venting is exhausting. I’m glad I didn’t handwrite all of this.

#personal #metoo