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retrieve-the-kraken · 1 year

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Young Royals Season 2 play-by-play analysis

The last episode, the climax to the conflict, the conclusion to this arc, the start of the revolution… it’s so dramatic, so tense and so satisfying.

(Ugh, why does it take me so long to find the gifs I want... Why can't I always find the absolute perfect gifs when I want them and I know they exist...)

Brace yourselves, because this analysis is LOOOONG. I can’t stop the thoughts, sorry. Too many moments, too many unspoken things that speak volumes…

EPISODE 6

The boys have been together for hours now, in their little bubble. As far as we know, there have been no food or bathroom breaks…? Just the two of them, making the most of every second together, just loving each other one last time… Then morning comes and the bubble bursts. Simon has to do the right thing, he knows that there’s a big chance that nothing will come off it, but he has to try. Even if it means that August won’t be next in line to the throne, which at least would be a giant blow for August, but an equally big one for Wille… but Simon has to try, he can’t just not do anything, he has to get some form of justice… and whatever happens after that they will deal with it together, hopefully.

So after hours of loving and being loved, Wille looks resigned again, watching as Simon gets dressed. He asks if he’s going there now, to the police station. Does it have to be now? Can’t we have more time together. Simon is heading to the police later, but he has to break up with Marcus first, once and for all. He hesitates before kneeling down next to the bed. If he doesn’t go now, he might lose his nerve. That forehead kiss, it’s so sweet, like he’s saying that everything will be alright, somehow. Like he wants to reassure Wille that it’s not the end, that there’s still love. Just kill me…

August is having a mental breakdown. He knows he can’t get out of this one without help. He knows that maybe the Royal Court can help him sweep the whole matter under the rug… But what if they don’t? He’s not entirely in there yet, he’s not exactly in their good graces yet.

“August, we are counting on you to not give us any problems whatsoever.” You’re on thin ice, August. They forgave you one scandal, they won’t forgive another. “You represent the entire Royal Court now.” Already? It’s like they’re already counting on Wille to give up, and August to need to step up. Way to keep putting the pressure on kids, by the way. Although August is of age, he’s still a fucking kid. But he will be tried as an adult…

“It’s silly, I will take care of it myself,” August says. Then he turns to the person who also already has a vendetta against Wille and Simon…

Listen, my work has let me see people’s different styles of public-speaking. Everyone has a different style, and there are some people that are more natural at it than others, some people seem to have been born for it… and some people just don’t. (And even the people who seem to be natural at it require training, they’re not just born knowing how to do it, it’s just easier for them to get it). I don’t have public-speaking abilities, although I could develop them, but I’m an introvert, and so is Wille. It takes more work than that. It’s not just knowing what to say, because anyone can read words from a page; it’s the delivery, it’s the power behind the words, and it’s the ability to look into a crowd and not lose your nerve… And the fact that they’re forcing him to give a speech at such a young age, during an event of such magnitude, without even giving him some sort of training first, is fucking unfair and mental. They just expect him to be a natural at it. Like becoming the Crown Prince suddenly means that he should be able to. Nah, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not an app or a plugin that you suddenly get, it takes work, especially if you’re not a natural… Fuck the Royal Court and Kristina.

Simon ghosting Marcus, but then showing up. And Marcus being all sour, because he knows, he knows everything. “You haven’t replied in days”. Guess what, Marcus? It’s not really your business. You’re not his boyfriend, no matter how much you wanted to believe it.

“Not compared to a prince, at least.” Fuck you, Marcus, you snob, you don’t know Wille. Wille being a prince is not a plus, it has never been a plus, in fact it’s been the biggest obstacle between them… You’re making Simon sound like an elitist, and that shows how little you know about Simon.

“You only brought me to make him jealous.” Well, you got that part right, but also, he brought you to distract himself, he was trying to move on. He wanted to like you, somewhat... (guess he dodged a bullet there...)

“I told you that I wasn’t ready for a relationship but you haven’t been listening to me.” Yes, and that negates the “perfect” thing. Stop being nice and telling him that he’s perfect, Simon. He’s not. He’s a manipulative snob.

“So it’s my fault that you treated me like crap.” OH WHO’S PLAYING VICTIM NOW…

You, sir, you are the problem. Not even the main one, no. Just a problem in Simon's life. Stop being so annoying.

“You see yourself as some kind of victim among all those brats.” FUCK YOU MARCUS. He IS a victim, he’s an outsider among all the privilege kids, he’s at a disadvantage and constantly reminded of it. He IS a victim of the system, the system rigged in favor of privileged kids, rigged in favor of the Crown, the system that protects powerful people and keeps the cycle of silence and oppression going. And he IS a victim of sexual harassment perpetuated by one of the brats. You have no fucking idea, Marcus. DO NOT believe a word he said, Simon.

And Simon tried to make it right, he tried to apologize, and Marcus just made him feel terrible and accused him of things that weren't even true. Simon doesn’t deserve that.

I still think it's ironic that Rosh and Ayub were like "Ugh, Wille's so toxic, you should totally hook up with Marcus, have a rebound," and Marcus turned out to be the toxic one... I'm not saying that Wille or Simon are perfect, and I know that what Simon did to Marcus was not nice, to ghost him, to use him like that, even if he had made it clear to Marcus that they were not a thing. But Marcus was full of red flags; he is a snob who thinks himself better than the "rich brats" at Hillerska, and doesn't fail to point it out; he calls out Simon for his relationship with Wille by saying that the thing that Simon liked about him was that he was a prince, which is actually the opposite; he absolutely LIED about not watching the sex video, because of course he did and that's probably what sparked his interest and made him approach Simon now, after knowing about him for much longer (everyone in Bjärstad knows each other, and their mums are literally friends, wtf); he used what he knew from his mother about the Eriksson family to manipulate Simon into not breaking things off with him; and he's slightly older so technically there's a slight power dynamic there. And as a final blow he accuses Simon of pretending to be a victim and loving the drama... You know nothing, you jerk...

(It reminded me so much of when August and Felice dated, and August was jealous at Felice's closeness to Wille, then going on and kissing Sara... and of course there's that little "funny" thing he said about her when we first meet him and find out what kind of person he is, and what he thinks of women... Of course August is much worse, the worst in fact, but Marcus was unexpectedly a wolf disguised as a lamb...)

The palatset is decorated with blue and yellow streamers and balloons and Swedish flags and other party decor. There will be a party after the Jubilee.

August with his back turned to the door, like a classic villain…

I think there’s an expression or a proverb or something for wanting something so bad that you would do terrible things to obtain it. There was a Huffington Post opinion article that someone shared on here recently on how the people who want to have power are precisely the people who should have it, whilst the people who are most suited to be in power are the ones who don’t want it at all. Real, good leaders are collaborative, they like to help others shine, they are selfless, they sacrifice. Power-hungry people are easily corrupted by power or by the desire to obtain it… August is so power-hungry he will do anything for it, and yet he’s not aware of what he would have to sacrifice for it and when the time comes he’s just not going to; Sara wants so bad to be part of the elite that she’s willing to screw over her own brother, lie to her friends, join forces with the worst person. Meanwhile, Wilhelm cares so little about being Crown Prince, and Simon has never cared about Wille’s title. In fact, the Crown has been for them both more of a hindrance than a promise… In fact, the only time that Wille uses his title is to weaponize it against August, but it turns him into a pretty bad person; he uses his power to get revenge on August, but it shows an ugly side of him. However, it doesn’t last long, because he’s not a narcissist like August. Once he’s back to being himself, to the person who doesn’t want the title, then he once again becomes perfectly suited for it. Beyond the royal title, beyond the inherited nature of it, Wille’s a good leader, he’s just young and misguided at times. That’s why therapy is so helpful to him, to understand his emotions, to find that balance.

August says he knows that what he did was unforgivable, “But Erik would not have let Simon go to the police.” HOW DARE YOU BRING ERIK INTO THIS. You do not speak for the dead, August.

“So now it’s my responsibility too to protect the Royal Family.” You’re just as bad as the Queen, August. You fit right in.

As it has been pointed out, Alexander doesn’t really work as the scapegoat: the video was recorded when Alexander had already been caught with the drugs; and it makes no sense to pretend that he’d still be in possession of August’s phone when the video was leaked either, a few days later, and already having been expelled. Especially since only a few minutes after the video was leaked, August had his phone with him and even answered a phone call from Minou from the Royal Court. Even if Alexander had had August’s phone, and had been able to record without unblocking the phone (August has an iPhone with a home button, so usually a fingerprint is required), it still would raise the question of when and how the phone was “hacked” to obtain the video, how long the video remained in the phone, etc. And August doesn’t seem to know that the Royal Court is in possession of the most damning evidence of all, the library computer from which he logged in and posted the video… As far as August knows the Queen and the Royal Court found out that it was August because Wille told them, because Felice figured it out and told him. So his whole plan is playing with fire and full of holes anyway. Either he and Alexander are too stupid to realize this, or they’re just counting of Wille getting scared. Which is why they’re warning him about what they’ll do if Simon reports.

And the weirdest thing to me is… Alexander is getting back at Will by willingly taking the blame for CHILD PORNOGRAPHY???? Something that he didn’t actually do???? He’s willing to be known as the guy who filmed the Crown Prince and Simon in an intimate moment and created a video that went infamously viral???? Like that could not have an impact on his future??? For fuck’s sake, he’s dumber than I thought…

But Wille is right, this whole stupid-ass plot won’t stop Simon from going to the police. But the drugs definitely will… There’s no escaping that…

“It’s time to stop this, everything calmed down once you denied the rumors… no one cares about the video.” “I CARE!”

Wille looks ready to commit murder. I would have loved him to use his headbutting skills to give August a nice purple bruise that would look really nice at the Jubilee.

I feel bad for Rousseau. That new owner is a dick.

“I want to be completely honest with you. No more secrets between us” says Felice, and Sara has been the most dishonest of the two this whole time…

“I’m in love with August.” Not “I’ve been sleeping with August” or “I have been seeing August in secret”. LOVE. Whoa.

This whole time Sara really thought that Felice would hate her for being in love with August just because he was her ex, when in reality it’s because Felice knows that August is a terrible person who can’t be trusted and Sara shouldn’t be in love someone like that… not knowing that Sara has been pretty bad herself and should not be trusted.

August being all “What’s this? The police? What is this police of which you speak?” Like he doesn’t know that Simon can knock him down and sit on him again and mash his face into the ground…

“I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to protect the royal family. Maybe you should do the same.” Very well, thinks Wille, picking up the gun to kill August and protect the royal family from the threat that is August.

Simon stepping back, in case Wille does shoot August or something, but not trying to talk him down. “He’s about to confess.” Wille says it, letting him know that he’s serious, this will turn into an “accident” if August doesn’t confess.

It’s been pointed out before that that moment, when Wille is ready to shoot August for what he did to him, to them, when he flinches as Wille shoots into the air, is the first time that Simon sees how much the video leak affected Wille, but also how much he couldn't do anything about it. Even if he denied the whole thing on an interview, people still knew that was him on the video, he was still outed, his privacy was still violated, and his own family still betrayed him, and it changed him forever. And this is all that built up anger coming out. So if Simon still thought that Wille only did badly for a while and then he was fine, now he sees that Wille is deeply traumatized.

When August glances at Sara, Felice already knows… Sara just revealed to her that she’s in love with August, so if she knew that Simon was going to the police, she might have told August. And then Sara confirms it.

The look on Simon’s face when Sara looks guilty. He’s in absolute disbelief. They all are.

“I was in love with him.” This is the first time August is hearing this…

“I thought the damage was done since the video was already out there.” More proof that Sara didn’t really understand what Simon was going through, that it wasn’t just about the video, it was the wedge that was driven between him and Wille, it was the fact that August got away with it, that the Royal Court protected him.

And for all of Sara’s excuses, the fact remains that she chose August over her own brother, even before she was actually in love with August. Which means she chose the privilege that August offered over being loyal to her own brother…

“He wanted to come clean. And I believed him.” Like she really kept it a secret for that reason… No, Sara, you weren’t hoping that August would come clean, you just wanted to live in Manor house and be elite and potentially even become the future Queen…

“It wasn’t enough that you destroyed my family, you had to destroy another one.”

At this point August really believes that Wille might shoot him and starts to beg him not to. It’s like he almost believes that Wille has nothing to lose.

“You don’t even want to be prince.” And August is right. As he watches Simon walk away, Wille drops the gun to go after him, because Simon is much more important than the fucking crown, something that August doesn’t seem to understand, something he will never understand. Wille walks away toward Simon, because he won’t let August destroy that too. (If Wille has ever thought of a long-term future with Simon, of being each other’s family, that’s the family that he wants to protect now.)

“You’re despicable.” Felice realizing what Sara is capable of. Was their friendship real? Was it just convenient to Sara? To have access to Rousseau, to be with the most popular girl in Hillerska? If she betrayed her own brother, what’s keeping Sara from betraying anyone else?

Personally spitting on August is a nice touch. Wille is basically saying “I won’t get my hands dirty because of you, but this is how I feel about you, this is what you’re worth, scum.”

“You were going to confess, August.” Sara doesn’t understand the value of secrecy in this society. Also August confessing was never really a major thing for her until Simon found out and wanted to go to the police. Before that, she was fine with how things were, even when she saw how miserable her brother was…

“You know about the struggle to get what you want… we’re the same, you and I.” August comparing Sara being working class and wanting to fit in in an elite school to him wanting to keep his status and become next in line to the throne… yes, they are the same, but at different levels. I’m not excusing what Sara did, but August is definitely worse. “It’s what I love about you.” What? You love that she became ruthless and deceitful and treacherous? Because that’s what you are…

“I had no other choice.” To be precise, he had no other choice that would keep him out of potentially going to jail.

Simon is keeping all of his emotions inside. Wille hugging him brings them too close to the surface and he’s at risk of them spilling all over… the way his voice trembles as he says “please…”, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t want to cry here, not where someone can see him, he just wants to go home, he wants to get away from it all, even Wille. You can’t fix this, he’s basically saying. Everything is destroyed in ways that he didn’t even know, because his own sister, his own family, betrayed him too. It’s not even about just August, it’s also now Sara, and it’s everything that has happened to him since the moment he met Wille. He hasn’t had a moment of peace…

And Wille watches him go, knowing too that he can’t fix it either. And he’s still trapped…

Kristina doesn’t even know what Wille’s crying about, she just comforts him, sort of… and he smiles sort of (because despite what she has done to him, she’s still his mother, he still wants to trust her, be comforted by her). But she doesn’t ask him what’s wrong.

Simon’s face and eyes are raw from crying. He called his friends, who know the whole story, to vent… And Ayub and Rosh immediately jump to the conclusion that Sara must have been brainwashed by August to have done this, otherwise she would be incapable… is clear that they don’t know her either.

Linda, again, what’s up with you? Your son looks like he’s been crying himself raw, and his friends look morose. How do you not get that something more is going on…? Simon doesn’t want her to know, anyway, because it would break her heart. He’s the protector, he wants to protect his family. I agree with a lot of people who say that the events of that day show Simon that Wille really had no choice, that he was after all just acting like everything was fine but he was most definitely not fine. After seeing how he pointed a gun at August, nearly losing it, it's clear to Simon that Wille's never intended to protect August, but had not choice but to put up with him; that of course he was traumatized by the leaked video, but he was forced to deny it. And after finding out that even his own sister had betrayed him, Simon realizes that he has no choice either, that someone else will always have the upper hand. So now he will have to change his strategy if he wants to protect those he cares about, including Wille. “If everyone is going to protect their families, then I’ll do the same.” Simon is a lot like his mother, he sacrifices a lot for his family. Linda looks like she understands. She is proud of Simon and she will support whatever he decides.

(gif by @almostliving84, because I don't know how to search for it in the gifs search bar when I already know where the gif is...)

As I mentioned before, Kristina also went to Hillerska, she knows about the palatset, she knows about the secrecy culture. Her choice to send Wille to Hillerska was never really about making him into a proper prince, it was about keeping him out of the public eye so he could do whatever he wanted without it becoming a scandal. A plan which majorly backfired when the secrecy cycle was broken… by August of all people…

“Your mother is not as innocent as she’d like to appear.” Yes, we know. “Stop it, don’t put ideas into his head.” Don’t worry, Kristina, your son will never ever be like you.

Wilhelm looking in pain as he is forced to participate in this charade. “How are you, gubben?” Now she asks. Boy has been moping since before you got there, and you didn’t even care, until now when it’s too obvious to ignore.

“It just creates new and bigger problems.” The way that the video, that everything has been handled, is nothing new; everything that doesn’t fit into the mold is swept under the rug, every wrinkle is ironed out, and then everyone goes on pretending like nothing happened.

“It’s important to talk about your emotions, but you can talk to us about anything.” “But it’s not enough.” Indeed it’s not. Krissy, you wanted him to talk to a psychologist, but that’s not the solution to the problem. Wille has finally understood why he feels the way he feels, and he’s learned to communicate. But it’s not enough, what’s the point of talking if nothing happens? If nothing changes? He’s expected to learn to handle his emotions, but the root of the problem, of the thing causing his distress, his anxiety, remains untouched. The monarchy, the cycle of secrecy, the traditions… everything stays the same…

The crowd of girls gathered outside the room. Either word spreads really freaking fast, or Sara took a very long time to go back to her room… Or did Felice leave the door open and then start telling Stella and Fredrika about it so loudly that everyone heard? Judging from the fact that just now the housemistress arrives, maybe it hasn’t been that long…

Sara very subtly threatens Stella with outing her. She unfortunately doesn’t realize how much like August she is. Making threats when she doesn’t have the upper hand, when she’s being called out.

“Sara has proven that she’s not a friend. She’s not loyal.” Obviously Felice can’t talk about the real reason why Sara’s betrayal is so big, not in front of Stella, Fredrika or the housemistress, but she makes it very clear to Sara.

“I don’t know what happened, I’ve never been in love before.” But again, Sara wasn’t in love with August when she decided to keep this huge secret from Simon. She might have had been catching feelings, because they kissed and she was curious, but still she made that choice to get an advantage. “I could always tell right from wrong, but with him it all seemed right.” Bullshit, she always knew it was wrong. Otherwise she wouldn’t have threatened to tell Wille last season; otherwise she wouldn’t have implied to Simon that a person can’t help what they feel, when Simon felt rotten about “cheating” on Marcus. She knew it was wrong. “You’re so totally full of shit,” Felice calls her out. It’s been months of secrecy at this point.

August texting “Please, I feel like shit.” You should. The drugs he claimed he would stop taking soon beckon him. Another lie. Then he looks in the mirror as he practices the speech and says “to make you proud.” Irony.

Wilhelm is lying in bed, bathed in red light, and I first missed the symbolism of him playing with Erik’s lighter… playing with fire… Cities on fire, won’t you burn it all… before he looks at Erik’s cigarette case… He’s thinking of Erik, he still feels the weight of his title and the commitment of living up to his brother’s memory and legacy, but also maybe he’s wondering what Erik would tell him to do in this situation…

(Could not find these gifs in the search bar either, so I found it in @levok s page, thank you for it. Seriously, if anyone can teach this loser -me- to search for gifs when you already know where it is, so that it shows up with the credit and all, please teach me so I can fix this, and all the previous posts. Thank you.)

Never not loving the scene of Ayub and Simon talking as they’re both falling asleep, that’s a really supportive friend, we all deserve an Ayub. “But he wants to keep it a secret, and you don’t.” Not quite; Wille doesn’t want their relationship to be a secret, he he just knows that it was an option proposed by his mother, and he was desperate enough to consider it. Simon tells Ayub about the possibility of him and Wille being a secret relationship until they’re eighteen. As far as we know, he hadn’t thought about that again, since Wille mentioned it in the locker room, because he had pretty much discarded that option as insulting. Because it made him feel like a dirty little secret… But now… now it seems like an option again, maybe the only option… to be with Wille, even if it has to be secret. He’s also bathed in red light as he ponders it…

“Only you can decide,” says Ayub. The light turns from blue (the color of calm, security and inner reflection) to purple (the color of royalty, but also as the combination of blue and red, it contains the stability of blue and the energy of red, and it also symbolizes spirituality, creativity and wisdom, and perhaps more importantly, it’s the color of resistance of the queer community) to red (the color of love and passion), signaling that Simon might have already made his choice.

The stage is set; the Swedish flag, the pomp and circumstance… On the bus, Simon looks pretty serene. Like he already knows, he’s already made up his mind. He just hopes he doesn’t regret it. Meanwhile, Wille practices the speech, resigned to following the charade, fitting into the perfect image of a crown prince.

Felice emerges from a room (a random room under the stairs? I had decided in my head that she either went to Stella and Fredrika’s room, or even more likely to Madison’s, and slept on the floor, but the way that she leaves the door open…), to find Sara gone, the expensive riding pants the girls gifted her left behind, a major symbol of how she realized that she’s never going to fit in with the girls at Manor house. (By the way, how long did Sara take to go from Manor house to the entrance, if Felice found her gone already, but by the time the jubilee is already happening and people are arriving she hasn’t even left the premises…? How fucking far is Manor house from the main gate??)

August arriving like nothing’s happened. He thinks he’s in. He still has to stand on the back of pictures, but he’s still living it. Kristina looking at Wille like she’s gauging how committed he is to the charade, to pretending that there’s no bad blood with August.

Vincent and Nils tease August, like there’s no bad blood anymore either. Do they know he’s next in line, did he tell them?

Wille glances at August, sees how different they’re acting in that lineup. Whilst Wille feels so awkward and stifled, August looks like he fits right in. If it weren’t because he detests him, he’d give it all up to August, who actually likes performing like this.

August is so ecstatic about how well he’s doing that he momentarily forgot about Sara. Until he sees her. Things are not perfect, indeed.

August buying Rousseau for Sara thinking that’s what she wanted. No, she wanted you to be a better person. You can’t throw money at everything. And also yes, of course she wanted Rousseau, but how do you expect her to take care of it???? She has no money. Then as she leaves, he calls weakly after her, but then he walks the other way. Clearly he has his priorities in the right order, and she’s not as important to him as everything else.

Simon signals to Wille that he wants to talk. Wille probably thought that everything had gone to shit again, that Simon would never speak to him again… again… They go into the coat room, the place where they had their first kiss, where everything started… Wille is so tense, he’s so afraid of what Simon is going to say. He listens, apprehensive, until he realizes where Simon is going… “It’s not worth destroying our families over that. And it’s not worth destroying what we have.” Simon and Wille somehow, deep down, might already think of each other as family, as each other’s future. My heart…

“I want to be with you. Even if it has to be a secret.” The tension melts. “But no more secrets between us.” The little smile of joy, the little relieved exhale, the excited little nod… and meanwhile Simon is smiling so big that his eyes crinkle. Then Wille takes his hand, because he’s allowed again… Then they look at each other and they hug, and Wille is home again. He’s happy again. They both are. They still have each other.

And then Simon says ‘I love you’, and Wilhelm has been hoping to hear those words for so long, the confirmation that Simon feels the same way, and he realizes that it does not deserve to be a secret. He doesn’t want it to be a secret. That they both deserve more. That he wants to love Simon openly. If anything else happens that jeopardizes them being together, he can’t allow it. He hasn’t decided what he’s going to do yet, or when, but he needs to make sure that they (the Court) can’t go back on their promise of letting him be with Simon. He’a willing to fight tooth and nail for that. He can’t let anything get between them again.

Jan-Olof interrupts them (asshole), and Simon immediately backs away, drops his arms, but Wille is not so fazed, he’s almost defiant. He wants to touch and caress Simon so bad, but he can’t be as effusive as he wishes, because someone is watching, and that’s how it would be all the time. But he gives in for the moment, walking away casually. And Simon is being so brave about it, knowing that they’re good, that they’re finally on the same page, even if they’re not entirely happy with the page.

Sara hears the choir begin to sing. She is missing out on the event that she was sort of preparing for, imagining having to greet the Queen, learning what to say. She is once again an outsider looking in (or rather listening in). The event has lost its meaning.

Meanwhile Wille watches as Simon performs with the crowd, looking dejected, just another member of the group. Knowing what Simon can do as a soloist, knowing how much he loves hearing Simon sing, knowing that that was supposed to be a song written by Simon, a song he was proud of, a song that (he later found out) was about him, it really highlights how unfair and outdated the system is, to deny one student, one talented choir singer, to stand out.

Sara might change schools next season, now that I think about it. What if she’s too ashamed to return? Continuing to attend Hillerska would mean enduring gossip about her, hateful looks from Felice and Simon, judgement from Wille and the rest of the people who know what she did (Stella, Fredrika, the rest of the girls at Manor House, etc.) and having to encounter August.

In a misguided attempt to make things right with her brother, she calls the police to report August. She should not have made that call, not only because we know it might make things worse now, but also because it was not her place to make the report, it was Simon’s.

Wilhelm braving his anxiety and feeling ill and making a last second decision to do the speech, because he saw Simon’s worried face when smug August starts walking toward the podium. Giving up this moment to August means giving everything to August, and it means they win. They, the Crown, the Royal Court, the system, they win. And Wille can’t let that happen, he needs to regain control of the narrative again, for himself and for Simon. This is it, this is his chance, anxiety be damned.

The confused look on everyone’s faces. What the hell was that about? August’s face as he is forced to sit his ass back down. The “torture”, the humiliation at the hands of Wille continues. Karma, bitch.

And Krissy looking so proud, thinking that her plan worked. But no mi ciela, it wasn’t August that ultimately lit the fire under Wille, it was Simon. His decision to step up is not driven by hate, but by love.

I don’t think that Wille knew what he was going to say when he stood up to do the speech, he just knew that he couldn’t let August take over, because then it wasn’t only him and Simon getting stuck with August, it was everyone else. Taking away August’s chance to give the jubilee speech, for example, is not about having revenge on August anymore, it’s about fulfilling his leadership role, and realizing that if he doesn’t, then there won’t be a leader, but a power-hungry narcissist “in charge”.

Wille chooses to lead by example, stopping the cycle of silence and secrecy by telling the truth, being honest, and if he had let August, August would basically lead by example too but by continuing that cycle of secrecy and silence.

Also Wille standing up to do the speech instead of August was at first about putting Simon’s feelings first, before his own feelings of unease and anxiety. Simon who has just been hit in the face with such revelations, like Sara’s betrayal, and how far August was willing to go to screw him over and Wille, his threat to use his father’s drugs against him… and it’s so clear on his face how much he’s putting up with August for his and Wille’s sake, now having to be a part of the people who have to pretend that they don’t know that August committed sexual harassment against them, that August exposed them to the world and ruined their lives, Simon has to hide his feelings, his distress at knowing that, despite all those things, at any moment August just gets everything he’s ever wanted, he’s Wille’s backup, he’s one step closer to his beloved Crown… And Wille’s not having it. Not for himself anymore, but for Simon. He will sacrifice his own freedom for Simon, and for the greater good.

The girl with the phone thinking “whoa, he’s going off-script. Better stream this.” Simon looking nervous, knowing what’s coming. Boris looking so proud and amused. And Krissy on the verge of a fit, silently begging “stop”...

When Wille says “it was me in the video, the video of me and Simon,” the camera cuts to several faces, including of course the Queen and Simon, and a moment earlier to Boris looking all proud. But it wasn’t until the Netflix reel announcing Season 3, when they did the 12 Days of Christmas song, in the part where it goes “Four pretty words”, the four faces being shown are Simon, Kristina, Boris… and Stella… Stella looking shocked. I hadn’t realized that the first face they cut to after Wille mentions Simon is Stella’s. They focused, albeit briefly, on her reaction to Wille coming out… of course Stella’s sexuality is going to be a big thing next season, but I love how they focused on her, making it obvious that we’ll learn more about her.

I thought it was a nice little detail that the two students whom we see filming Wille, when Wille says that it was a private moment, they both look up from the screen of their cameras and instead look directly at Wille.

The cameras flashing at Simon, at his distressed face. Foreboding. And yet he smiles.

Wilhelm knows that what’s coming now is going to be difficult, but at least he’ll have Simon by his side. He glances skyward, as if to check with Erik, wondering if he’s proud of his little brother. Yes, Wille, I think Erik would be really proud.

He then looks defiantly at us, like he knows we’re here, watching, and his lips curl into the faintest of smiles, a rebellious, daring smirk. He has regained control.

My royals babies have truly been through the wringer, and I know that yet more challenges will arise for them in the third season. But they will be together, they will face them together, and although they have been changed forever, in good ways and bad ways, they have made each other stronger

#young royals #wilmon #young royals analysis #young royals thoughts #wilmon endgame #young royals season 2 #young royals s2

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themonotonysyndrome · 2 months

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Hey, hope your doing okay I was wondering if you could write about Celica not being able to eat during her pregnancy again? I’m sorry but I just live for worried castin being ready to kill everyone that ever told his wife to eat poison

Hello, Anon! I'm okay. Thanks for checking up on me. My writing progress has been slowed down lately. My muse... where has she gone!? 😭

Lol, but seriously, let's take a crack at this and expand more on one of Celica and Castin's most challenging trials during the pregnancy arc - her lack of tastebuds and, consequently, her appetite due to the side effects of poison withdrawal.

Castin says nothing. To be precise, he doesn't know what to say exactly.

His wife, his darling beloved Celica, is playing a new game he dislikes from the get-go. This causes Rhett to rear back in surprise when he admits it during their hunting trip for the King, and literally everyone in Intacia has heard of how their strongest warrior is besotted with his Imperial wife.

So what change? Castin Hammer likes - no, loves - everything about Baroness Anesidora. He loves how her golden hair shimmers with the early light of dawn as she turns around to greet him good morning. He loves the quiet hums of her voice whenever she's lost in a good book. He loves her no-nonsense tolerance for bullshit, cutting straight to the meat of the matter even in the face of hardships. He loves how pliant and soft her body is to his touches, as if she's subconsciously known that she will always be safe with him.

Right now, though? Castin Hammer dislikes - no, hates - how obtuse Celica is deliberately playing just so she could pacify him.

Enough is enough.

"Celica." Castin begins sharply, and he hates how his wife grimaces at his tone, but he has to press on. He has to make her see reason. "You can't continue drinking that... that special tea of yours after our babies are born. I didn't say anything when you insisted it was tradition, even when it slowly killed you. Guess what? It's still killing you even when you're not taking it now."

The Baroness juts her chin up in defiance. There's a small dining table worth of space between them here in their bedroom. She felt too exhausted today to leave her personal sanctuary, so it's been transformed into a makeshift office and dining hall. "I'm fine."

Enough is enough.

Castin abruptly pushes his chair backward. He swipes his untouched bowl of chicken shorba, rounds the dining table, and places it gently, as if it were a newly hatched chick, in front of Celica. "Then finish it, baby." His voice is equally soft, but there's a hint of coldness behind it. This is the most furious he has been for his wife. He knows it. Celica knows it.

Celica's lips pressed into tight, thin lines. The broth smells divine. The shredded chicken meat looks soft to chew. It's the perfect dish for a pregnant woman. She picks up the spoon and scoops the broth to her lips...

And it tasted absolutely nothing. Her stomach, growing with hunger, now cries in dissatisfaction. It hurts, and she can only imagine -

"You can't, can't you?" Castin answers for both of them. Some of his anger (never at his wife. Never anger. Only sorrow) abates. Sighing, he pulls his chair nearby to sit beside Celica instead of across to her. "You know... if I'm not 5 seconds away from tearing my hair out in a panic, this would be hilarious. I've seen you down a hill of raw, marinated crabs all on your own like a competitive eater, baby. Now though? Now you can barely finish a soup because of your missing tastebuds!"

"Tastebuds or no. I will not jeopardise the health of our babies. I'll force myself to finish this." Celica resolutely says, eyes hard. She continues eating slowly. Ignoring how distressed her husband is.

"Like how Zeke forces you to eat fuck all back then?"

"Castin, we've been over this - "

"You're right, we did. We agreed to help you look for a therapist once the children are a bit older. But we didn't talk about your poison intake. So, let's start now. Let's take that cat out of the bag."

"Castin..."

"No, no. Food and conversation. You like those, right?" Castin stonewall his wife and snatches back the bowl of food so he can feed his wife. He grins painfully wide when Celica glares at him and opens her mouth. Castin waits until the bowl is almost empty to ask, "So who do I gotta beat up for making you think that grape flavour arsenic is appropriate for kids?"

"It was Belladonna. Not arsenic." Celica sneered, and for that, she found herself a mouth stuffed with soup.

Castin rolls his eyes despite the fact that everything in him is raging on behalf of his wife. He'd learned a thing or two about playing an actor from Celica over the years. "Of course, you'd go for the fancy flowers. Also, don't get sidetracked. Who, Celica?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"Nah. Take it as your obsessed and highly protective husband wanting to unravel everything about you."

"Really? That's your excuse?"

"What can I say, babe? You made me into a lovesick puppy that may or may not need the muzzle after this. So?"

It's Celica's turn to sigh. "My first governess - Madam Bianca - took it up with Ezekiel. It was a day after my tenth birthday, and by customs, I was only enough to practice mithridatism. The rest is history."

"What!? No, not history! Babe, that's insane! And after your birthday, too!?"

"It is what it is, Castin - urk! Will... you... stop it!?" Celica chews and swallows furiously. She bats away Castin's hand before he can shove the last bit of the food into her mouth.

"You being all nonchalant like this freaks me out, you know? Are you finally full?"

Celica immediately rubs her tummy. The pregnancy swell is starting to show. "Yes, darling. I'm genuinely satiated for now. Please, believe me."

"Awesome!" Castin stands up once more and steals a startled kiss from his wife. Mm, chicken shorba with a faint taste of cherry; more things to love about Celica. "You want some ice-cream? Cake? Ice-cream cake? Lemme get you some, actually. You just sit tight and look pretty."

"...Why are you grabbing your sword? Castin? You're just going to the kitchen!"

"You'd never know if a rebel is gonna ambush me from the bathroom, Celly! Or if a certain head butler is in the hallway. It'll be nice to have a quick chat; man-to-man. Husband to his abusive father-in-law."

"CASTIN, NO!"

#monotony's rambling #desmond asmr #headcanons #castin hammer #baroness (oc)

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ofmermaidstories · 1 year

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merm...bkg hunger games au....

okay so here are my initial thoughts:

1) im actually probably way too into the hunger games to be having this discussion lmfaoooo. im too into it, it’s too perfect, i love it too much. it is basically the pinnacle of all YA and i will fight literally everyone on that.

2) so with the first point in consideration, are we talking like a strict 1:1 AU? Setting it in New America/Panem? Districts with distinct specialities? Commentary about reality TV and modern entertainment entwined with like, the trauma that comes with war and trying to break free of generational curses and etc etc etc? RE: reality TV, I do think we could probably modernise that just a teeny weeny little, to include like, idk, some bullshit about how we’re always under constant surveillance and how we no longer have the time/option to be unavailable (because we’re so connected!). and since we’re like, apart of an actual fandom, maybe we could throw in some stuff about how our more privileged/sheltered audience members would engage in like, stan culture about all these dying kids, LOL. Shipping wars that ends bitterly because one half of the pairing like, idk, clubs the other to death LMAO. Real People Fanfic and the culture war that would come from that (people having a problem with RPF of the tributes bc they’re real people, but like also conveniently like… forgetting they’re real people who are being forced into a death match). would we throw in a line about Reader and/or Bakugou discovering self-insert Gamefic? lmao no wait i made myself snort, we’re absolutely keeping that LMAO. anyways im gonna cut myself off here bc otherwise i will ramble on, but that brings us to point numero-threeo—

3) i recently rewatched Battle Royale (a “random” class entered wins a yearly lottery then dumped on a remote island where they have three days to murder each other—all in the name of keep the status-quo, etc etc, also this is somehow a solution to sky-high unemployment rates etc etc etc.). if we kept the Quirks then like, you could spin it as a dystopian AU where people are fearful of quirks being too powerful, so then ya death-match children are pulled from hero classes and we make Reader end up in there accidentally or something, and oh no! they’re also quirkless (and defenceless hehe).

4) idk. i know i was like hehe i like war! but like, i don’t know how to emphasise how much i love the hunger games LMAO. and how that love sort of translates into the same fierceness i feel about BNHA, when it comes to fanfic—that the canon characters have certain inevitabilities you have to honour. just like no matter the universe, we are always going to need a Bakugou who’s centered around his friends (Deku, always, in any capacity. Kirishima, the first equal he had. Shouto, his frustrating Bestie <3), to me the hunger games works as well as it does because it’s war through the lens of relationships. Gale as the danger of unhealed anger, Peeta as choosing peace—like… that’s the magic of THG to me, and i just…… like…… what are we gonna do with the relationships, with a BNHA cast? 🥺 What would Bakugou be? Do we start with a Bakugou who’s still in Bastard Mode? Has he gone through his canon growth by the time he and Reader meet? If he has, then how was that facilitated in our new world? Did he and Deku end up in the same game? Survive together somehow? How many of their peers and friends do they lose, or does that come later on? How do we fit Reader into that dynamic naturally? the romance in THG happens through like, a need to play the game, play it up for the cameras, but it’s born out of Peeta’s very real feelings for Katniss, that started when they’re kids, and I’m not a childhood friends-to-lovers person (writing wise). The “romance” (if u can call it that) in Battle Royale is probably more culpable to what i do (vague awareness of each other/one-sided crush, grows as they prop each other up) but… idk!!! idk!!!! we could just write up Bakugou and Reader sharing a cave and making out over a festering wound but like…. idk!!! i believe in earning our kisses. 😌 show me the build up in the war-torn society first, and then maybe we can have a kiss later on, lmfaoooo.

#ofmermaidstories-asks #basically what i am saying is that i am absolutely the wrong person for this discussion LMFAOOOOOOO #because i just cannot let myself do fun sexy festering wound cave kisses—like i need a whole ass essay beforehand on the system that #got them in the cave in the first place and i just—#sometimes ur girl here doesn’t have the brain power 🥹#‘do things for fun’ they say #that only works if you’re normal and not a massive overthinker who also happened to have a THG phase!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#OR a BR phase!!!!#i am LITERALLY staring at a copy of the BR novel right now #like!!!!!!!#i cannot do this in a lighthearted teehee manner lmfao #we go in guns blazing OR NOT AT ALL!!!

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theopenbookwigtown · 10 months

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🏡 Back home in Shropshire, but what a week it's been. 🌟

Grateful for everyone who joined our journey - the locals' warmth, the visitors' love for The Open Book. 😍

It's been the most wholesome week we've ever had.

🗓 18th - 23rd July 2023: ⏰ 41 hours open 🤝 319 people greeted 🐶 16 adorable dog visitors 📚 81 books found new homes

As I've been doing all the posting this week, Gary wanted to say something...

I did not want to be a bookseller. I wanted even less to pay for the privilege.

Stephy had other ideas, however, and it’s in my nature to follow her lead even when I’m convinced she’s gone off the deep end. And so, in 2017, we booked our place at the end of a 3-year wait and Stephy impatiently dreamt of our upcoming trip. This, I believe, is called “foreshadowing.”

2 days before our trip in 2020, we were all locked in our homes for the foreseeable future. And so, in 2020, we booked our place at the end of a 3-year wait and Stephy impatiently dreamt of our upcoming trip.

I tell you this to emphasise that, despite two 3 year waits and a pandemic, I was no more enthusiastic about our bizarre little holiday. I was convinced that we would see too few customers and I would be bored out of my mind or, much worse, that we would see too many and I would be forced to relive the retail experience that made me promise “never again” as a teenager. Either way, I was terrified that my anxiety and my atrophied social skills would leave me trapped in a solid week of awkward interactions and uncomfortable silences.

I ran these scenarios in my head, preparing myself for any eventuality, but I could never have anticipated that I would fit in almost immediately. We were soon visited by many of the locals, invited to events and welcomed into their stores as though we were regulars. This strange, wonderful place embraced us with everything from casual Good Mornings shared across the quiet road as we all set up our signs and displays, to conversation in the street to compare notes after closing. It is rare that I feel a sense of belonging, but I found it here and instantly fell in love.

With the help of Stephy's boundless energy and contagious enthusiasm, I fully discarded my shell within days and, by week's end, was actively greeting everyone who walked through the door with a genuine “How are you today?” like some kind of crazy person.

It was in this question that I found the real treasure of this place, the thing that makes The Open Book far more than the sum of its parts: Those who visit, do so looking for a story or two, sure, but if you ask them, and if you listen, they often gift you a story in return. We encountered people bursting with the kind of joy and wisdom that only comes from a life well lived and learned important life lessons that we will carry with us forever. All it took was a word and an ear.

The dream, the one I didn't understand, can be found here in Wigtown but you are missing the point if all you are looking for is a quaint, cosy stay in a bookshop. The Open Book wouldn't work anywhere else because The Open Book is Wigtown. There is a perfect storm here. The right people in the right place at the right time with the right idea have created something truly magical. How else can I describe something wonderful that shouldn't exist, but does anyway?

This is a place where a modern shop with modern comforts exists but the penny sweet is alive and well, where a parade of 40 horses might run right by your front door and bagpipe music can be described as "spontaneous", where a "little concert" is both cosy and breathtaking in equal measure, where you can enter a store to the sound of live banjo music and learn of the owners attempts to purchase a life-sized triffid, and where you will learn the secret to a long happy life is to pull up your socks, always be curious, never stop learning, and buy a second TV for your spouse.

In just one week, a bookstore had become a home, a handful of strangers had become neighbours and friends and a holiday I would gladly have missed had become a memory that I will cherish always. I leave this place healed and inspired, thankful for the kindness and the stories that I will take home with me, and saddened beyond measure to say goodbye so soon.

I did not want to be a bookseller, but I will be forever grateful that I was.

Until next time, Wigtown.

💛 Stephy & Gary

#theopenbookwigtown #theopenbook #wigtown #scotland #bookshop #books #booklover #bookstore

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hardly-an-escape · 1 year

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Ten Books to Know Me – I was tagged by the lovely @landwriter and @valeriianz to share 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know me better, or that I just really like.

it was practically impossible for me to choose just ten (and in fact I didn't) and I definitely provide WAY more background info than probably anyone is interested in, so this got looong and I'm gonna put my commentary under a cut! but here is my list, in no particular order:

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

East of Eden, John Steinbeck

The Hobbit & The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkein

Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert Heinlein

The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

Momo, Michael Ende

The Blue Castle, LM Montgomery

The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell

Gaudy Night, Dorothy L Sayers

The Great and Terrible Quest, Margaret Lovett

yes I know there are eleven shut up

(1) Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë if you physically forced me to choose one book that is my favorite of all time, it might be Jane Eyre. I can't swear to that, but it's a good contender. I couldn't even tell you when I first read it, but it was some time before my sophomore year of high school (we were assigned it in an English lit class and I was already intimately familiar with it). I just adore Jane so much. she's so smart and stubborn and weird and self-aware and strong in a way that young Nora identified with and envied in equal parts. I frequently re-read this book when my life was feeling overwhelmingly negative, because it comforted me to think that if everything could turn out okay for Jane in the end, it might turn out okay for me, too. would I love it as much if I read it for the first time now, as an adult? maybe not. the whole crazy-wife-in-the-attic is... not a good look. I get why people don't love it. but I do and I always will.

(2) East of Eden, John Steinbeck I can pick this book up, open it to any page, and there's a better-than-even chance it will immediately make me burst into tears. (actually, as I'm writing this I'm realizing that I'm really due for a re-read.) listen.. I come from a sprawling dysfunctional family and I love a good sprawling epic about a dysfunctional family. I love religious metaphors. I love detailed and loving descriptions of nature and beloved land. is it a bit heavy handed at times? yes. is it still one of the great American novels? yes. timshel.

(3) The Hobbit & The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkein (insert Gimli gif "That still only counts as one!!") I associate these books very closely with my family, especially my dad. one of my earliest memories is of my dad reading The Hobbit out loud to me when I was very young – I remember crying so hard when Thorin died that I just about made myself sick. look, you know why I love these books. you love them for the same reason. everyone loves them. they're perfect. the movies all came out around my dad's birthday and we went to see them as a family every year. my sister and brother and I have literally gotten drunk and cried on the couch whilst holding hands during our millionth rewatch of Return of the King. I don't know who I would be if these books weren't on my list.

(4) Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert Heinlein this is one of those books I read under exactly the right circumstances, during my senior year of high school, in a literature of fantasy class filled with a bunch of other intense artsy nerds; we were all figuring ourselves out and finding our places in the world and learning how to be humans and to develop those deep, intense friendships that you can only form when you're 17 or 18 years old. we all wholeheartedly adopted the concepts of grokking and sharing water and we would go around telling each other thou art God. it's dated, as is a lot of sci fi from the early 60s; the casual sexism and homophobia are not pleasant to read and in retrospect some of the religious symbolism is a little heavy handed. but I still have a soft space in my heart for it (in fact I just loaned a friend my copy this winter). I also love the concept of a Fair Witness.

(5) The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett this has been one of my favorite books since I was about six years old. as a kid I was obsessed with the idea of secret worlds, and especially when kids had things going on that grownups didn't know about or couldn't access. (I loooved stories like Narnia.) it's just such a sweet book. let's all heal our trauma with the power of pale green points and singing the Doxology to a bunch of birds.

(6) A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith I was probably just a little bit too young to read this book the first time I picked it up. I didn't know novels could tell stories like this. I didn't know you could write a book that was so painful and beautiful at the same time, or that things that are true can be so ugly and so beautiful at the same time. it cracked open something inside me when I finished it. I think I actually woke my mom up so I could cry at her about it. I think Francie is another protagonist that I identified with to an almost uncomfortable degree, and I think a big part of the power of this book is how accurately it depicts the inner life of a weird little kid in an intense world she's only just beginning to understand.

(7) Momo oder Die seltsame Geschichte von den Zeit-Dieben und von dem Kind, das den Menschen die gestohlene Zeit zurückbrachte, Michael Ende (the older English translation is titled The Grey Gentlemen, but I think a newer translation uses the original title) definitely another children-save-the-day-with-their-secret-child-knowledge story; one that also makes incredibly insightful commentary about consumerism and technology and the speed of modern life – a message that's only gotten more and more relevant since it was first published in 1973. Momo herself is a one of my favorite members in the pantheon of weird little kid characters whom I adore. and the Grey Gentlemen are one of the creepiest, most inexorable antagonists I can think of from children's literature. I haven't read the English translation and I'm not sure how it compares to the original, or how difficult it is to find in the US. but it's absolutely worth tracking down a copy.

(8) The Blue Castle, LM Montgomery as much as I adore the Anne books, and really all of LMM's work, my absolute favorite of hers is this one. it might even be the book on this list that I've re-read most often, and as you might have gathered, I re-read books a lot. (there was a time during the peak of the pandemic when I was having trouble sleeping and I probably read this book, or parts of it, about every week or two. it was like eating my favorite food, it just made me feel better.) it's one of her few more adult works, and a straight-up romance, and it's CRIMINALLY unknown and underappreciated.

(9) The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell this book has it all. aliens. linguistics. space travel. Jesuits. philosophical questions about what it means to be a child of God. like... the main character is a space traveling polyglot linguist priest. that hits ALL my buttons. anyway this is an absolutely gorgeously written sci fi novel that's not really a sci fi novel, kind of the way Station Eleven (Emily St. John Mandel and another honorable mention on this list) is a post-apocalyptic novel that's not really about the apocalypse. it's one of those books that I'm just constantly recommending to other people because it's so so good. (it is also kind of heartbreakingly tragic and involves some fairly serious trauma of both the physical and psychological/religious varieties, so if you pick it up be aware of that.)

(10) Gaudy Night, Dorothy L Sayers I adore all of Lord Peter Wimsey (except maybe Whose Body? and even that has its merits) but Gaudy Night is my favorite, although Murder Must Advertise is a very close runner-up. I have such an enormous crush on Harriet Vane, you don't even KNOW. I want to be best friends with her and also steal her away from Lord Peter and marry her myself. she is such a perfectly imperfect heroine AND she is absolutely his intellectual equal and that's why he's madly in love with her. swoon. again, this is a book that has it all. mystery. romance. esoteric academic rituals. philosophical questions about what it means to be a woman in a world where your gender will always be the most important thing people perceive about you no matter what you do. life imitating art imitating life imitating art. WWI changing the fabric of society. consider my buttons pushed.

(11) The Great and Terrible Quest, Margaret Lovett yes, I'm adding an extra eleventh book. I can't help it. this is another criminally unknown and underappreciated book and since nobody's ever heard of it I am required to shout from the rooftops about how great it is. it's a classic fantasy story (I guess you could call it a fairy tale, but there isn't really anything magical about it, just knights and kings and stuff) about a young boy who lives with his cruel grandfather. he saves a mysterious man from a terrible head wound and gets swept along in the man's quest. it's simple and beautiful and has one of the best endings of any book I've ever read. Lovett only published a handful of books, but they're all marvelous. please find them if you can.

I really haven't been online this week so I have no idea who's already done this and who hasn't and I don't know who to tag, so I'm going to take the coward's way out and just say if you're seeing this and looking for an excuse to answer these questions, consider this your sign.

#sorry this is so long #I actually haven't been reading much lately and I kinda forgot how much I love talking about books #also I'm realizing there's a lot of crying mentioned in this post #I cry a lot what can I say #it's like... my primary emotional reaction no matter what's happening #books #tag game #about me

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julesdanstarr · 1 month

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long vent. wanted to get it out somewhere but wanted something a little more vulnerable that notes app. please genuinely ignore this, I don’t want anyone reaching out because I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow. love you lot (hopefully no one reading this)

why am I such an overthinker, so many people point it out and each time I can acknowledge it but never fix it. It feels like an endless cycle of acknowledgement that yes, I am, and then embarrassment that people have to point it out to me.

I don’t MEAN to be like this, but knowing that everyone around me could decide they hate me is such a terrifying thought I’m yet to comprehend. I think the worst part is that it’s happened before. I wish I wasn’t so dependant on praise form others to keep going, fucking hell even sexually I need constant appraisal and validation that what I’m doing is okay. What the fuck is wrong with me.

I need everyone else to be okay and comfortable before I even think about what I want. Every fucking interaction I’ve had I leave thinking they must hate me. They must be waiting for a time for me to leave so they can talk about me behind my back. Again.

Fuck knows what caused it, but who really cares. The bullying? The exile from my group, who later tried to stage an intervention because I was being overly positive and they didn’t like that? I was being overly positive because I was terrified of being mean. Because being mean meant someone had a reason to be mean back. Didn’t stop em, eh?

I drive everyone around me away the minute I show a sign of weakness. These past few weeks have been the most intensely close of my life, and I love it and hate it in equal measures. I know my constant checkup is annoying as fuck, and I wish I didn’t have to do that. I wish I could just enjoy being utterly ruined and not have to derive my pleasure from knowing that someone else is enjoying ruining me. The best part about it is that I get to turn my brain off for a bit, but recently I can’t even seem to do that.

Maybe that’s why I enjoy it so much. The fact I don’t have to take control over everything. But the minute I don’t have control I’m spiraling. These past few weeks, again, perfect example. Knowing that I’m not a true equal anymore, and never will be, is a terrifying prospect I’m not too sure I can handle. I love the freedom of being mindless but losing independence at such a crucial time I should be learning it isnt great.

I love him. But not in the traditional sense. Not in the lovey romantic way. I softblocked him, but have no way to know if he’ll ever see this account again so if you do, hi. But you already know all of this. I love his slightly crooked smile, the way his eyes shrink when he grins at me, and his Friday dress sense. Problem is, I just can’t see it as more than a lust. I can’t see past our years of friendship to reach a romantic light.

I truly love him, and could see myself spending the rest of my life with him. But not in a partner sense. The problem is, by establishing this power dynamic he now has utterly control over me in every situation where we were previously equals. Which means I’m struggling to speak, form coherent sentences, to the point where he’s forced to take the lead. I love him, but I can’t keep doing this. I need a way of keeping our dynamic inside the bedroom. Problem is, it’s my fault. I take the first step, winding him up, then get stressed when he jokingly responds. And then all I can think about is him for hour and get no revision done in the slightest.

Not too sure how to tackle it though. The minute we move away from each other people will notice. And I don’t want to! I love his company, truly. I just wish it didn’t send me into this helpless state.

I knew it would happen, too. I warned both of us, but we wanted to take that risk. Of course, two horny teenagers, fun. But it makes me want to be utterly his and burn the necklace we picked out for me at the same time. I can feel myself changing, for the better, but I know it’s for him.

I bought a dress. For him. Beautiful, silky one. I look beautiful in it, I’d go as far as hot. Problem is, i bought it to please him. I bought the tights to please him. I wear the necklace to please him. Although I’m loving the experimentation, I’m doing it because I know he’ll like it. I get put in my place time after time, and although I fucking love it I feel like it’s doing a number on my mental health. I need someone gentle, telling me I’m so good and brilliant and just what they wanted. And although he’s great at that, I almost don’t believe him anymore. I don’t believe anyone, really.

Parents came to see the show. Talked about how brilliant everyone was. I got a small ‘you were good’. Not being up my own arse, I had a ton of people come up to me after and pass along compliments form themselves and family members. I know I’m great, but it means nothing to me unless people I care about can say it. Parents have never been any good at praise, I guess. Probably why I have a fucking praise kink I don’t know.

Thing is, I’m not always like this. I’m a fucking published author. I’m a bloody fantastic vocalist, doing extremely well in academics and socially, and yet I spend my entire life doing this for other people. I feel this extreme amount of guilt if I’m not perfect, all the time. People call me their role model. Fucking hell, I’m no role model. But I present as one, and that’s what matters, I guess.

Having someone come up to you and say ‘they want to be like me’ is terrifying. Other children who don’t even go to the same academic school are recognising me in town, pointing me out to their parents. I love the attention, but it also makes me realise truly how many eyes are on me. I cannot fuck up.

Im just a walking people pleaser, really. An overthinker, even. I’m probably overthinking this, but fuck it i said this account would become my random shit vent one so there we go. I just wish I wasn’t such a doormat.

And it’s past 10pm, so I should trust my thoughts. Might start a ‘things I shouldn’t say’ locked note to stop me checking up every 30 minutes to make sure he’s okay with everything.

TLDR: deep dive into my overthinking insecurities, me reaching the root of my I can never feel validation from other people, and the people who I should believe it from are lying to be nice to me. I love my life. Goodnight.

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keefwho · 9 months

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August 20 - 2023 Sunday

10:04 AM

I'm feeling like I can't sustain an emotional connection. I'm having the thought that I won't be able to stay on the attack and do what I need to do because I'll stop as soon as I see any improvement. But I know even if I see improvement, I have to keep going or I'll inevitably start to falter.

1:48 PM

I need to go to the store soon to pick up some bottled water and rice and maybe a couple other things. While today is the perfect day schedule-wise, I am struggling to work myself up to it. I'm trying to isolate exactly what kinds of thoughts are stopping this from being a simple little trip. I can't always rely on naturally feeling great in order to go out so it would be helpful to get to the bottom of this.

First of all is the worry that I might embarrass myself. This is something that used to be a big problem. I'm afraid of speaking up because I feel like socializing is some type of puzzle where I need to say just the right thing or else I'll "fail" for lack of a better word. I've overcome this by realizing if I have something to do, all that matters is my goal really, it doesn't matter if I make good small talk or win anyone over. It's as simple as getting the chore done and exercising honest communication in order to do that which I am good at. I mostly fear socializing for fun because I have a low opinion of myself and dont feel like I have anything interesting to talk about. Not to mention I'm usually so deep in my own head that I can't do other's enough justice by listening to them.

I guess my focus is not very good today and I can picture a lot going wrong because of that, even though actually going into the store would be less than a 5 minute experience.

I supposed to boil it down, I'm having thoughts that even for a menial task, I will be a failure. I'm telling myself a story where I won't be able to focus on or enjoy my time out or see myself on equal footing with everyone else. All eyes will be on me, judging me like someone special. Instead of focusing on everything that could go right, I'm focusing on past mistakes and even making up new ones.

5:16 PM

This happens every weekend where I cannot pick what to do with myself. I feel overwhelmed, like I can't focus at all. Like my head is full of TV static. It always results in the day flying by and me having nothing to show for myself. All my attempts so far to do something about this have failed. Its not as simple as doing something if I can force myself to do so. I think it has to do with focusing my attention on one thing instead of thinking about everything I could be doing.

11:06 PM

Today was a flop. I did a couple things here and there but for the most part I couldn't pick what to do for fun or otherwise. It all happened in a way that I don't remember any of today. It all blurred together into one big boring mass. A couple things I can pick out are watching more of the Chris Chan documentary and eating a chicken burger with WAY too much onion on it.

The worse thing that happened today was this period in the afternoon where I felt lonely but also didn't want to talk to anyone and I didn't want to do anything so I was kinda stunlocked.

The best thing that happened today was my lovely conversation with my bestie in the flowers under a tree in VR. It's refreshing seeing her after the last few days.

#journal #diary

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imoc · 1 year

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There are some friendships so seamless, that whether you last spoke 5 minutes ago or 5 years ago, you still love each other just the same. Whether you're meeting in the morning for a healthy home cooked breakfast and a quiet cup of coffee, or partying late into the night at some wild concert, you're still having the time of your life. No relationship is ever perfect, but that's why you appreciate this person. They stuck it out through thick and thin, good times and bad. The kind of friendships that have survived years of time, petty arguments, messy misunderstandings, mutual disappointment, rocky breakups, and more. These are the friends that, even after a short visit, I think to myself, "Wow, I am so lucky to have found such a wonderful person."

But not all socializing is equal. There are lots of frienemies and acquaintances that, after hanging out with them, I think to myself:

"Okay, they're a pretty cool friend... I think? I guess that wasn't *that* bad, their jokes weren't *too* mean spirited, their insults weren't *that* rude, they only yelled a *little* bit... I guess they just had a bad day and took it out on me. Right? Well, actually, come to think of it, no wonder we don't hang out often. Maybe next time will be a bit more pleasant. I hope?"

And then the cycle repeats itself. We go months without talking. We decide to catch up over a game, with wings and beers. We have the dubious honor of being the loudest and most obnoxious customers in the bar, arguing more and more as the night continues. We pay our tabs and give each other a forced high five. We go our separate ways, and during the drive home, I ruminate over all all the painfully awkward moments of the night. I make excuses for them, and try in vain to convince myself, that I haven't been wasting time and money on someone who neither deserves nor appreciates it.

Hell, I know for a fact that I've been that distant estranged friend, who pushed everyone away with hurtful sarcasm and inappropriate morbid humor. Not trying to judge. I've been on both sides of it. And I guess I can be kind of cold and distant in general. People come and go. I love my friends, and I appreciate their company for however long it lasts, but I'm not too attached to anyone. People change, and drift apart over time, and that's alright.

There have been times when people would cut me off and ghost me, and I didn't even notice. Hell, sometimes I'm actively relieved when someone gives me the silent treatment. Finally, some peace and quiet! But all kidding aside, that's not exactly something to be proud of. Setting healthy boundaries is one thing, but self alienation is not an accomplishment. Neckbeards and fedora bros will try to act as if their solitude is voluntary, as if they have no social life because they have better things to do, as if they're just introverted because they're above everyone else. But in reality, the opposite is true. They have no friends because they are unlikable losers.

And the vicious cycle spirals out of control. They isolate themselves even more. Their social skills become even more rusty. They act even more creepy. Their beliefs and attitudes become even more unhinged and bizarre. They care even less about themselves and others.

I don't want to be like that. Socializing is a skill that needs to practiced, just like an exercise regimen. If you slack off for too long, it catches up to you, and you forget how to even do the basics.

#friends #friendship #thoughts #journal #dear diary #toxic #healthy #boundaries

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bccketts · 1 year

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FARMER'S CODE

I. AFFILIATION

This is an Independent Original Character rp blog. The only things I own on this blog are my character & art I may or may not post unless stated otherwise. This is my OC. Keep in mind, he can be mean and aggressive. This oc does has some dark themes such as blood horror. Tagged for the most part, writing might not be but images always will be. I do not condone his acts. Do not confuse mun with muse. If he is not your cup of tea the unfollow button is at the top.

II. BASIC RULES

✰ NO GODMODDING! That one is pretty self explanatory and obvious. Just don’t do it. It isn’t fun for anyone. ✰ Multiple threads with one person are welcomed. ✰ Tag your content, as I tag mine! ✰ Don’t send hate/anon hate. You’re just wasting your own time and I simply just ignore and block anyways. I am always open to constructive criticism. ✰ Racist, sexist, Transphobic & homphobic muns are not welcome here. ✰ Please cut your posts & do not reblog memes from me please! ✰ Yes, I interact with OCS, I am one myself and am open to shipping with them too but I will not follow everyone. I only follow the ones I interact with. I do not like Gary Stu, Mary Stu, Cat girl anime types and Forced ship/Forced child ocs! ✰ Do not take advantage of my kindness and non selectivity. ✰ This blog is 18+ meaning no minors. Sorry but I am an adult and at times I do rp and reblog adult content. ✰ I have dyslexia and sometimes i have trouble reading and understanding and this may come out in my role playing. I try to catch my mistakes before I complete a response but I’m not perfect. ✰This blog has themes consisting of foul language, trauma, violence. ✰ If I follow you, I most likely want to write, or if our muses don’t make sense maybe i just want to read your awesome role plays! But I am open to rping with any muse from anywhere, ask the fandoms i’m into if you want to! I just struggle to break out of my shyness at first!

III. REPLIES

Replies can take a long time as Tumblr is not my main focus. A nudge or poke about our rp is a-ok! I’m so scatterbrained. However, nagging will earn you a block if my warning is ignored. I usually try to respond to my threads equally, but if I am enjoying a role play thread a lot more I may prioritize it. Do not come at me complaining, I will get to your response when I get time. Remember, Role Play is a hobby.

III. INTERACTIONS

I am non-selective, this means I interact with anyone and everyone this includes Ocs, & other fandoms. However if your oc has no bio or is just a “big tiddy anime cat girl” I may not interact. the fandoms i refuse to interact with and block are; mha, homestuck, killing stalking, ybc, mcyt, & danganronpa. Respect this or leave, experience with those rpcs have made me very uncomfortable. If you like it that is okay, just keep it away from me :)

V. SHIPPING

I’m a complete shipping whore! Feel free to hit up Reevur I ship him with pretty much anyone! I love the idea of crack and new ships too. The only things I won’t ship with him are underage muses. Gross.

VI. VERSES

Currently a wip but plan on verses for Jojo, & Overwatch for now! Check my verses page for more info!

VII. TAGS

For aesthetic reasons in my tags of posts I have special tags with special text. More tags can be added any time! I tag my with nsfw and sinday, but if you want you can also block my special nsfw tag which is; 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬. ( nsfw )

VIII. NSFW

NSFW is welcomed, this can include sexual themes, gore and violence which all will be appropriately tagged. Any smut I might write will be under a read more. He will not just jump into sex with you, that’s where ship chemistry comes into play. I will not engage in any sexual stuff with muns & muses -18. Other nsfw regarding violence, Reevur can and will hurt you if you provoke him. You have been warned. More in depth violence can be role played upon request, tagged appropriately. I will not control or kill off your muse without permission. I ask you do the same

#mobile rules

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karmapiner · 2 years

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Puffin clothbound classics

#Puffin clothbound classics free#

Are Puffin clothbound classics unabridged Puffin. These editions also have introductions, which is a nice feature. They are smaller than Barnes & Noble Leatherbound Classics and run about the same or slightly higher in price. If you can get your hands on them, that is! If you do want to buy them online, you can get them on the Penguin website or order them into a Waterstones store (type in ‘Puffin Classics’ in the search box and select items between £10 and £15 to get them in your search results). Penguin Clothbound Classics are perfect for those who prefer a less garish, more shabby chic collection for display. That’s what makes me think that they’re more likely to be picked up by readers just like myself – those who love children’s books and want any excuse to re-read them, and equally love nothing better than an aesthetically pleasing cover… Either way, they’re certainly a pretty addition to any bookshelf. But if given as a first copy of one of the novels, I do wonder if they’d be built to last… In various places online, some readers have commented on clothbound designs degrading and rubbing off with their fingers – which goes for other clothbound titles as well as these Puffin ones – so it’s questionable whether they’d last being carried around in a backpack or fingered through over time. I suppose that, once purchased, the books would make great gifts for children – either those you want to introduce to the classics or those who have already enjoyed them and would appreciate a copy to keep. Surely those looking for keepsake books are more likely to buy them from a store? It’s all about the texture and how they feel in your hands – which you just don’t see on a computer screen. This is surprising, given that these are exactly the type of books you imagine would sell in higher numbers on the high street than online. I hate to direct people to shopping for books online, but it seems that it’s the only place I’ve managed to find them (and even then you have to word it correctly, specifying ‘Puffin Classic’ or the exact title you want in any search box, as opposed to any generic ‘clothbound children’s classic’ phrase). Have I missed them? Not looked hard enough? Or have they just not been marketed very well here? I showed a photo of the attractive spines to some publishing friends of mine the other day, and they too remarked at how pretty they were and wondered why they’d never laid eyes on them.Īpparently Waterstones do stock them, but with limited availability – so perhaps the chances of spotting them on a shelf depends on which branch you visit. A monster which, abandoned by his master and shunned by everyone it meets, follows Dr Frankenstein. In his desperate pursuit to create life, he has created a monster. Victor Frankenstein has made a terrible mistake. I’m not sure why they’re so hard to come by – I have yet to see them in a UK shop. Puffin Clothbound Classics - stunningly beautiful hardback editions of the most famous stories in the world. But Black Beauty has an unbreakable spirit and will, and is determined to survive. Bravely he works as hard as he can, suffering at the hands of men who treat animals badly. Description One of six highly collectable clothbound hardback gift editions of Puffin childrens classics featuring coloured foils on the cover and black. But when his owners are forced to sell him, Black Beauty goes from a life of comfort and kindness to one of hard labour and cruelty.

#Puffin clothbound classics free#

As a young colt he is free to gallop in the fresh green meadows with his beloved mother, Duchess, and their kind master. Black Beauty is a handsome, sweet-tempered colt with a strong spirit. Ī stunningly beautiful hardback edition of the most famous animal stories in the world. Bravely he works as hard as he can, suffering at the hands of men who treat animals badly. As a young colt he is free to gallop in the fresh green meadows with his beloved mother, Duchess, and their kind master. A book’s total score is based on multiple factors, including the number of people who have voted for it and how highly those voters ranked the book. A stunningly beautiful hardback edition of the most famous animal stories in the world.

#Puffin clothbound classics

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inkylizard · 2 years

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favorite things from firefly this year.

arriving and feeling known, seeing people who genuinely like me and not doubting it, remembering what it feels like to smile at everyone you pass on a trail. dancing in the rain/under the leaking tarp at camp here’s goth night and seeing, on the faces of people around me, the looks of pure delight that only ever mean that things have crossed into perfection by way of absurdity and fucking up a bit. Allowing myself to be one of the people reveling in that shared joy rather than one of the ones trying to resolve its accompanying problems, because the moment called for both things, and it’s okay for me to be irresponsible sometimes. Figure drawing! Firefly is a body positive space and a sex positive space and honestly sometimes that’s uncomfortable for me because i’m not through my own shit and i believe in those things for other people but haven’t worked out how i personally engage with them. So in addition to being a wonderful reminder of something I had missed terribly, it was also a chance to immerse myself in that part of the culture in an entirely nonthreatening way because nudity in a life drawing context has been unremarkable to me for years. Wonderwall Wednesday, of course. And ending Karaoke with Closing Time as a big group. Any chance to sing with people is always Big Feels. Me & Don both being gifted burn names by two different, equally wonderful, humans. (Cephalodon and Repair Kit, courtesy of Artimiss and Skittlez, respectively). Choking and forcing my way through White Rabbit at CH karaoke night because my legs shake and my breath won’t come when I try to sing in front of people, but I *know* i can do that song when I’m alone and I’d already committed and failure was not an option, and knowing it was bad and having to make myself not care enough to keep going, just finding it in me to turn off the paralyzing fear and do it anyway, and then Sketch and Korvin meeting me off the floor in the biggest hug, and everyone telling me I did so good in a way I could almost believe; JohnRhoades’ specific compliment that was perfectly tailored to the level of praise I could accept (”you were better than i expected and you picked the perfect song that worked for how your voice was going to fail you”, or something like that). Being able to have several incredibly vulnerable and risky conversations without lashing out or doubting what I needed to say, including asking for and appreciating help and communicating hurt. Feeling trust, and trusted, and maybe almost trustworthy. Big Things. walking along a trail and having an apple suddenly appear in front of me at eye-level and laughing so hard at the unexpected absurdity.

Getting to meet Don on a level where we could both be absolutely real, even just for a few minutes. Wandering together back into the empty, quiet city while everyone was still at the bug burn, and remembering it’s one of my favourite things, to see Firefly that way.

Jeffrey gifting me a vest that kicked off an entire experience of feeling that for the first time in my life I knew how to wear clothes in a way that accurately communicates my gender and represents my style, and absolutely loving it. (+ specifically getting several friends to tell me i was wearing fishnets In A Boy Way, + telling Crash his sense of style has been a big influence while I’ve been developing mine, and thanking him for it). Not bringing art; in general letting myself have kind of a sparklepony year, and coming away with new ideas about art, collaboration, and participation for next time. the serendipity of running into the right people at the right times. fierce and gentle people. mostly this year was about connecting more deeply with people i already know rather than meeting new ones, and I’m okay with that. I missed a lot and I’m okay with that too. Not all the times were good times, but I felt safe to make the mistakes I needed to make and I can see parts of myself right now that I couldn’t before, and that’s about the measure of a good burn in my eyes. I can feel the default world headspace starting to creep back in, with self doubt and insecurity and all the things that I wish were not my normal everyday ways, and hoping that some of this - the trust, the confidence, the self awareness, any of it - will just stay with me a little longer, just a little longer; & hoping that when it fades, what it leaves behind will still be enough.

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brandimolitor · 2 years

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For the last decade I swore up and down I’d never own a house. I convinced myself owning a home was a giant scam by big banks to keep us trapped in debt for 30 years.

Over the course of the last month I’ve been exploring buying houses.

In Michigan. A state I said I’d never live in for more than a year (I’m going on 6 years).

Owning a home might very well be a scam (what do I know, really) and Michigan might not be the best state to live in, but here I am.

I’m coming out, y’all — I might be a homeowner in the midwest. Maybe. I kinda-almost-sorta have my fingers crossed behind my back when I say this.

Because, I might change my mind again, too.

For the longest time, though, I didn’t think I had permission to change my mind.

I mean, “What would people think?!”

I tended to be a person that was fairly alternative when it came to lifestyle. Including living situations and places. I subscribed to “being different.” I had this idea that being unique was some sort of specialness. Owning a home in the Midwest doesn’t really fit that “brand” of person. Like, seriously, if you know my personality well enough, most people think I belong in Portland, Austin, Asheville, Boulder, and ya know, here I soon might be an official Michigander.

Am I “selling out” if I choose to stay?

Nah. I just feel a little differently right now. I’m not stuck in a box sealed up with concrete.

I remember the first time I learned one of my beloved spiritual mentor yogi’s who was just the most amazing woman I ever laid eyes on in the world of goddess-like-essence, smoked cigarettes and ate bacon.

Uhhhh what? Women like you aren’t supposed to….

Ya feel me? What we think about ourselves we project outward.

“I forced myself to fit into this tiny ass box so you have to, too. Get in that tiny box I designed for you, ya little rascal. Don’t ruin this perfect image I have for you.”

Some simple examples, but…

We live in a society where dogma rules. We say we are this or that and then feel this pressure to subscribe to whatever that organized thought says we must believe. It tells us how to act, be, think, do. Some find comfort in this. They think "if I do this, as I’m told, then this will happen.”

But, life is messy. Very messy. And complex! And filled with subtleties.

We do things we swear we’d never do. We find ourselves in situations like the people we judged, when we claimed “I could never do that.”

Like the client I had who was at the top of his game financially that everyone looked up to, who make a big business mistake and ended up bankrupt and lost his house and all of his relationships.

He changed his mind about the need for money.

Our dominant culture makes us think we have to follow a strict set of orders in order to, what? Be loved? Be safe? Make it to heaven?

When we find ourselves outside of these rigid barriers of “being good and right” we tend to feel shame, guilt, regret… we want to hide.

We sadly start to shun the growth within us, because what’s truly emerging in these moments is compassion, understanding, gratitude and empathy.

I learned the reason I’m able to hold so much space for others in their struggles is because I’ve been through some shit. I really get the pain and humanness on this journey we are calling life. If I didn’t fumble so much and learn the hard way at times and find myself time and time again doing things I said I’d never do “because hey, someone ‘like me’ would ‘never do that’ then I wouldn’t understand why people do the things they do and understand the complex and nuanced feelings and experiences around all of it. It makes me really good at what I do. In turn, I’m grateful for the pain and trials. Only because I was able to rise from them all (and continue to) in the space of compassion and not more judgement on myself and others.

Pema Chodron, a well-known Buddhist monk shares:

“Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded, it’s a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity.”

When we embrace feminine-based leadership, there’s room for compassion and integration of the full-range of humanness. The rigidness and hierarchy of patriarchy, dogma and constructed systems leave little room for curiosity, integration, connection and compassion.

We hold these standards and these rigid beliefs to feel more secure in our perceived sense of hierarchy in this world.

Closer to god, maybe.

But people don’t work well in the world of absolutes.

The flow of life resists absolutes. Human beings at their core, when connected to the flow of nature, naturally resist having to make black and white declarations — like how society tells us we must subscribe.

Over time, the mind cons itself. It robs the spirit of experiencing true humanity and it becomes more rigid. Like all things that are rigid and unbending, the spirit becomes bitter and brittle. Hearts constrict. Actions no longer come from a place of love but from a place of fear.

The lesson in compassion is lost. Connection and intimacy forgone.

People find themselves protesting against the things they hate the most about themselves. There's a belief that by shaming others over the things they feel most ashamed of is somehow healing or absolving themselves.

The fear of embracing ones own humanness becomes far scarier than projecting out the pain and judgement onto others.

You see, when allowed, life leads you to a place of changing your mind.

When we get that life is a tapestry of choices and mistakes and hard things and luck and privilege and chance, we shift. We have to. Otherwise we get hardened and deny what life is. That’s what integration is and what feminine leadership is (and, PS, you don’t have to identify as woman to embrace feminine leadership).

So how does this relate to Courageous Leadership?

Where do you find yourself feeling obligated or trapped into a certain way of being, operating, or committing? Where do you feel you want to soften more but find that you are speaking in terms of absolutes?

Ask yourself if this is a conceptual trap seeped in dogma or expectations from others. Ask yourself if this is a way to rid yourself of your own internal judgement.

Is there a sense of curiosity or exploration you are interested in exploring but feel too scared to do so?

These areas are open for exploration as a leader where you can have more compassion towards yourself.

Where are you so full of fear, shame, guilt and “being seen” that it’s causing you to not choose powerfully in a way that resonates most with you?

You CAN be many things and then change your mind later if you want to. If it doesn’t fit into a mold or a belief system, you have permission to expand and shift.

You really, really do.

And when we practice more from a place of love and compassion, the world becomes a radically more loving and compassionate place.

You can trust me on that.

You’re not trapped. You can change your mind on things you once believed to be absolutely true.

#brandi

#brandimolitor

#brandi molitor

#leadership coach

#courageousleadership

#leadership

#leadership development

#grand rapids business coach

#grand rapids life coach

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Harley's Plea for Help ch. 6

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6-- you are here

Yet another night of barely any sleep, but this time Marinette didn’t have the coffee-angel Red Robin at her rescue. No, instead she had to go completely uncaffeinated until she and her class got to Wayne Enterprises. Madame Mendelieve could only sigh as she watched Marinette scamper off to the café as soon as they made it past the initial security of the building. A couple of her classmates chuckled or snorted at her familiar behavior.

It was the same barista at the register as before, but this time Marinette felt too tired to properly order or be adventurous in looking for new flavors.

“I feel like death. I don’t care if it tastes like pure bean oil today. Flavors will take away from the amount of coffee you can shove in one cup, right?”

The poor barista blinked, eyeing the deep bags forming under the poor girl’s eyes. She sighed. “I had hope yesterday that you were just a normal caffeine addict. Now I see we actually have a second Mister Drake,” she said it as if she was mourning at Marinette’s grave before poking a few buttons on her touchscreen order station and turning her head. “One Insomniac CEO, but not for the boss!” She called out. The barista making the drinks paused for a second with wide eyes.

“We have another one?!” He asked, shocked. “Piece of advice?” He turned to Marinette. “Get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the dead,” Marinette deadpanned back. “I got stuff I need to do today.”

The guy just shook his head and sighed, making the drink as Marinette paid and left a good tip. The drink came out fairly quickly, and everyone behind the counter stopped for a moment to stare as she gulped down the hot drink with no concern for her tongue or throat. A satisfied sound left her as she finally pulled away from the cup.

“This is really good!” She complimented, turning to the Baristas with a still-tired smile. It would take a minute or two for the coffee to have full effect, but she already felt better. “A little too bitter for my usual tastes, but perfect for days like today. Thanks!” She waved at them before turning around and seeing that her class was already gone again. Before she could fully process that though, a hand slapped down onto her head and ruffled her hair.

Surprised (really, not a lot of people could sneak up on her anymore. Just how tired was she?) she let out a high pitched squeal.

“You’re a good kid,” the soft, slightly scratchy voice that said that made Marinette’s shoulders drop and eyes widen. Tilting her head back she was greeted with the widely-grinning face of Jason Todd. He was once again in the uniform of a security guard.

“Wha— Uh,” Marinette couldn’t quite find the right words right away. She was too stunned. Jason just chuckled, jerking his head to indicate the same door her class had gone through the day before and leading the way over there. Marinette scrambled to catch up.

Once they were far away enough from prying eyes and ears, Marinette cleared her throat.

“Um,” she started. “Did… I mean, do you..?”

“Yeah, our mutual friends had a chat with me last night,” he confirmed casually. He sent her a meaningful look even though his grin never left his face. “Like I said; you’re a good kid. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re not responsible for the things your parents have done, you know.”

The girl at his side hummed noncommittally, not fully convinced but also not wanting to argue.

“You’re not,” he repeated firmly, stopping in the middle of the side-hallway. They could see her class at the other end getting checked in, but didn’t make a move to join them yet. “I mean it. The stuff that happened to me, none of that was you. Hell, you were a little kid back then. And there’s nothing you could have done to stop it, either. I’m not gonna hold anything against you just because you’re his child. You didn’t ask to be,” he shrugged. “Besides, I get it. Biological relation doesn’t equal family. Trust me,” his grin was gone and a tired one replaced it. “I know that better than most people.”

The pigtailed girl could only gulp, taking a deep breath as she forced down the tears that wanted to bubble up. She had had this conversation with Adrien a few times, but even then she had been convinced that he just didn’t understand. He was just being nice. But this— Jason’s words were more valuable than gold to her. He had no reason to be nice, so it had to be at least partially sincere.

“Thanks,” she whispered once she was positive she wasn’t going to break. She lifted her cup up and took a long sip of her coffee. The slight burn against her tongue helped ground her. “That means more than you know.”

Jason chuckled. “Nah. The fact that you stood up for me to the Bat,” his grin returned to his face full blast, making dimples appear on his cheeks. “Now that, you have no idea how much that means to me. You must have some serious guts to lecture that guy, too. Is it too late to adopt you for myself?”

That tore a quick laugh out of her, making her classmate’s head whip over to the opposite end of the hallway where she and Jason were. She quickly quieted herself, but her eyes danced with amusement as she looked up at Jason. “You’re too young to be my parent anyway, but I wouldn’t say no to a brother,” she joked. Jason’s eyes sparkled.

“Good, exactly what I was aiming for!” He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. “That’s my number. Call me if you ever need anything, got it?” He turned to resume leading her back to her class and she quickly slipped the paper into her pocket before anyone saw and got the wrong idea. “And I mean anything.”

Marinette just smiled and nodded. By then, they were close enough for Alya to smirk and ask; “What took ya so long, girl?”

“Oh,” Marinette shuffled a little on her feet before an observation gave her a last minute idea and she straightened up with a wide smile. “We just got distracted talking about motorcycles!”

Jason’s eyebrows raised for a quick second before he settled his expression again and played along. He had figured that not many people knew about her biological family. That part made sense. But she had been a total mess just the day before when she had tried to lie about Paris’ little villain problem in front of Bruce. How was she able to actually come up with a good lie this time around, when she had been just as much put on the spot? He wondered to himself about what was different about this situation to allow her to lie more easily. Maybe Bruce not being there was part of it— she seemed easily flustered by famous people.

Think of the devil, because no sooner had that thought finished developing in Jason’s mind before Bruce Wayne walked into the hallway with a paparazzi-ready smile. Jason rolled his eyes and sunk to the back of the group silently, sinking back into his job and keeping an eye on their surroundings. He listened as Alya laughed softly and elbowed Marinette even as the group turned their attention to Bruce.

“You and your bikes,” Alya teased. “If someone knew enough about motorcycles, I bet you’d marry them on the spot.”

“Nah,” Marinette whispered back. “If they gave me a really nice one though? That’s marriage potential for sure.”

The two girls laughed for a second before focusing back on the tour. Adrien wasted no time making his way to Marinette’s side, silent questions in his eyes. Jason watched with interest as the two seemed to silently communicate with one another. It was obvious that Adrien was calling her lie, and Marinette was essentially silently telling him that she would explain later. It was so seamless and subtle that if Jason hadn’t been extremely familiar with that kind of communication already, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Once again his eyebrows rose a tick on his forehead, and he made a mental note of the interaction. That kind of silent conversation wasn’t an easy thing to do with people. It was most commonly seen in married or otherwise long-term couples, childhood friends, family, or hero partners. The childhood friends and family sections were already ruled out from their background check on her and Harley herself had mentioned that even though Marinette had once crushed on Adrien, she had unofficially adopted the boy as her brother since then. Though, their time as close friends was only documented as having lasted about a year. That wasn’t quite enough time for that sort of effortless silent communication to be possible.

Of course, Jason had his suspicions already. But there was no rush, either. The Clown was on the move and more important to focus on for now. He could focus on the puzzle that was Marinette and Adrien later.

Bruce took over the tour as he had the day before, and the class was instantly riveted once again. If the fact that they were being led through the building by the very man who owned it wasn’t awesome enough to get everyone’s full attention, the man’s personality was. He came off a little carefree and very kind, but there was an obvious undercurrent of just how much he loved his company that showed that he did take it and his job seriously. Just, not too seriously either. And he interjected everywhere he could with personal stories and anecdotes and little bits of his family history that the normal tour guides might not have known. It was not long after he announced that he was going to take them to a lower lab set aside specifically for their class’ tour, so that they could do their first interactive activity, that jason found the opportunity to sidle up next to Marinette on the opposite side from where Adrien walked alongside her.

“So,” he said casually. “How’d you know I ride a motorcycle?” he smirked to show he wasn’t upset as he looked down at her curiously. Marinette blinked, taking her attention away from Bruce to look over at Jason. Once his words registered, she smiled widely and pointed to one of his pockets. The corners of his bike gloves flopped over the edge.

“I noticed those. I figured you’d have a negative reaction that might give us away if my lie was too off the mark, and I do have a habit of saying stupid things if I don’t have a clue or something to play off of. I also had to make it believable for the class, and they all know that my Nonna has played a huge part in my love for motorcycles. I plan on getting a license to drive one when I turn sixteen later this year,” she told him softly. “I tend to gush whenever I see a cool bike, so I knew they wouldn’t question it.”

Jason huffed a little bit of laughter under his breath. It was like the trope of a character looking at random items in the room to come up with a fake name, but somehow it had actually worked for her. She was quick-witted and clever, he had to admit. And observant.

“I was running late, so I must have left them in my pocket when I was changing,” he admitted, unbothered. “Ah, here we are,” he nodded to return the two teen’s (he had noticed Adrien paying close attention as he and Marinette had their conversation) attention back to the tour. Bruce opened the door for the class with a flourish, gesturing for everyone to go in.

“Since these first few days are going to be tours and lessons about working in general, your first activity of your trip is to solve various problems we’ve given you based on real situations that WE employees have been in before. Split up into groups, and choose a table. Each table has a different problem covering a different industry. Reporting, Science— specifically research and development, business management, and entertainment…”

—*—*—*—*—*

“It’s straight,” Adrien assured her, trying to keep himself from laughing as Marinette straightened his tie for the millionth time. “I promise. And you look fantastic.”

Marinette stepped back, nodding at Adrien’s appearance in approval. “I know. We both look great, but…” she fidgeted and then stepped forward to go right back to over-straightening his tie. Adrien snorted, grabbing her hands before she could touch the poor thing again and lowering her arms to her sides.

“Calm down. Like you said, we both look great. You don’t have a single hair out of place, the outfits you made us look amazing, and my tie is at a perfect ninety degree angle to my collar. Take the model’s word for it,” he teased with a lopsided grin. “We look ready for the front cover of a magazine. So just take a deep breath, because we should get down to the lobby soon to wait for the ride he’s sending for us.”

“Right,” Marinette nodded. She followed his advice and took a deep breath. Once she was suitably calmed, she opened her eyes and nodded at him. Adrien smiled and held out his arm, making Marinette snort as she took hold of it gently and let him lead her to the elevator.

Bruce had not specified whether the dinner was going to be casual or formal, but with the fact that his kids were going to be present and it was at his own house, Marinette had a feeling it was going to be more of a casual thing than if they had went out to a fancy restaurant with a black tie dress code. At the same time, this was the Wayne manor they were talking about. She didn’t want to be underdressed, either. Not to mention that it was her design skills that had played a huge part in her winning the contest in the first place, so she felt like she had to show her work again to prove that they had chosen the right person.

A playful wolf whistle greeted the two of them when they got down to the lobby. Alya was, to no one’s surprise, the perpetrator. She stood in the lobby with Alix, Nino, and Max, who all had known about the dinner and agreed to be there to see the two of them off and put Marinette’s worries to rest. The four of them jogged over, Alix smiling and adding her own soft whistle of appreciation.

“You guys look great,” the short skater assured them, taking the time to skate slow circles around them to make sure that nothing was wrong with their outfits. “I think you’ve outdone yourself, Mari! Very cool.”

Alya nodded eagerly, bouncing in place with a wide, beaming smile on her face. “Ah! The both of you look ready to kick ass and woo rich people!” she added. Max pushed his glasses up on his nose with a small grin.

“There is a ninety-five percent chance of your work impressing all of the Waynes,” he said in his own version of encouragement.

“You guys got this!” Nino shot them a thumbs up. “They beat me to all the stuff I wanted to say.”

Marinette beamed, laughing along with her friends as she allowed herself to relax a little. Adrien’s outfit was of her own making, a subtle way for him to rebel since his father had sent him with his own Gabriel brand suit should an appropriate opportunity to wear it come up. Adrien had no plans of ever putting his father’s suit on his body. In an effort to spice up formal men’s wear a bit without making the whole thing white and silver like Gabriel wanted, Marinette had made him a classic silk shirt in black, with short sleeves that fell at that perfect halfway point between his elbow and shoulder. The sleeves had thick cuffs in a dark forest green, with decorative straight stitches on the seams in a bright magenta pink thread. On top of that was a corset-style sleeveless vest with a deep V. The majority of the vest was the same black as the shirt, but with dark green hand-stitched swirls that were just barely bright enough to be contrasted against the black. It created a very subtle pattern that would be hard to see in the wrong lighting, but would make it look that much more expensive and elaborate in the right lighting. The lapel of the vest was in the same dark forest green as the cuffs of his shirt, with a few decorative swirls embroidered on the very corners. The piping of the corset-vest made three curved lines on either side of his waist, curling from mid-rib cage to his waist. It gave him a slightly more feminine twist to his outfit, making his waist look smaller even though it wasn’t actually pulled very tight on him— it was mostly the illusion made by the piping rather than the actual tightness of the garment. The two outside piping lines were done in a magenta pink, while the middle piping line was once again in dark forest green. Unlike most corset-style vests, this one had no buttons or zipper on the front at all. Instead, it was closed only by corset lacing in the back, the laces done in such a dark shade of green that it was almost black, while the eyelets that the laces were threaded through were that same magenta pink as the piping and decorative stitches elsewhere on the outfit. The tie that Marinette had spent so long making sure was straight was almost entirely soft lace, but it was layered in such a way with layers of sheer green and pink lace that it looked like it was a constant swirl of the two colors. If someone got close enough to see the pattern of the lace tie, they would notice that it was a pattern of cats chasing a butterfly.

Underneath the artistic top of the outfit were black dress pants, once again with thick forest-green cuffs on the bottoms. But instead of the decorative stitching, the pant legs flared a bit at the ankles for just a little extra drama. Magenta-pink Oxfords peeked out of the wide cuffs. The green detailing made Adrien’s eyes pop, while the pink accents gave his boyish charm a little more of a feminine touch that almost seemed to highlight his naturally sensitive and charming nature.

In contrast, Marinette wore a sleeveless pink pantsuit. It was the same shade as the pink accents in Adrien’s outfit, and had a built-in corset as well that went only around her natural waist. The corset boning on Marinette was a solid black, while the rest was just the same base pink as the majority of the suit. The black of the boning seemed to flow downwards, changing from boning into thick hand-embroidery in thread of the exact same black. The embroidery flowed down the sides of both legs, in the shape of tree branches and apple blossoms. Pale green accents in the form of swirls at her high neckline and a pale green lace capelet that was the only thing covering her shoulders helped tie her outfit in with Adrien’s. She also wore pale green low kitten heels and her black hair up in a braided bun. With how her pant legs were form-hugging until they flared out slightly at the heel, and the lack of sleeves exposed her toned arms and shoulders and emphasized her strength there without making her look unbalanced or too masculine for the rest of the outfit’s style, she looked ready to rock the business world. Her bright blue eyes clashed with the green details of the outfit just enough to bring attention to them, assuring that people who met her eyes would not be able to easily look away.

The quick snap of a phone’s flash went off, drawing everyone’s attention to Madame Bustier. She was beaming at all of them, and had just taken a picture of her two students all dressed up. She waved her phone happily. “I’m sending this picture to the both of you. I’m so proud of you guys!” she gushed.

Marinette and Adrien both blushed deep red, shifting in their spots. They were confident in their looks, and Adrien was just as proud of his pseudo-sister, but neither of them was very good at handling so much positive attention aimed only at them. Especially not from their extremely sincere friends and teacher.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” An older gentleman with a British accent turned everyone’s attention to him. The first thing Marinette thought was that he had kind eyes. He also had soft wisps of white hair on his head, carefully trimmed and slicked back. Of course, Marinette and Adrien also couldn’t miss the high quality and perfect press of his carefully maintained suit. Once he had shown all the proper credentials to Madame Bustier, he introduced himself to the two well-dressed teens with a shallow bow. “I am Alfred Pennyworth, the butler for Wayne Manor. I am to escort the both of you there for supper tonight.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Monsieur Pennyworth,” Marinette said, walking up and shaking his hand. Adrien was right by her side the whole time, matching her smile watt for watt and shaking Alfred’s hand with just as much enthusiasm.

“Yeah, thank you for having us over. I know it was technically Bruce who invited Marinette, but you’re probably the one that has to do all the work. So, thank you. We really appreciate it,” he told the man sincerely. Alfred’s answering smile was soft, almost fond.

“Yes, I admit I am in charge of most of the work for tonight. But you shouldn’t worry, it’s no different from any other day at the manor,” he said lightheartedly, a little bit of good natured snark shining through his otherwise proper behavior— “Every last one of the Waynes would die in less than a week without me to keep everything in order,” he joked. “Allow me to lead you to the car.”

Marinette and Adrien followed behind Alfred. She didn’t know if it was the calming aura he put off, or if it was the gentle way his eyes sparkled that made her want to look after him. But whatever it was, she found herself wanting to protect this kind old man already. Which is why her eyebrows slightly pinched together. Before climbing inside the luxurious town car he had brought for them, she couldn’t help but turn to Alfred and ask;

“I hope you aren’t overworked. I don’t want to overstep, Monsieur, but isn’t the Wayne family rather large for one person to look after on their own?”

Alfred laughed gently at that, his eyes once again softening. “Do not worry about me, Miss Dupain-Cheng. They are family to me. And though, yes, you are correct in assuming they are a handful, they are also wonderful people. They help me where they can, but taking care of themselves is not their forte. Being able to do that for them is my greatest joy.”

The wrinkles in Marinette’s brow smoothed out and she smiled. “That’s so sweet. You’re making me want to meet them all even more.”

Something about that twinkle in Alfred’s eye made her feel like he was laughing at some joke she didn’t hear. “I’m sure all of you will get along swimmingly.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“I FOUND HER FIRST!”

Alfred had barely opened the manor’s doors to let Marinette and Adrien inside before the chaos started. Or rather, before they were let in on it— it seemed as if the chaos had already been going on for a while.

Jason skidded across the floor in a mad dash, having to grasp the doorframe he was running out of so that he could turn the corner sharply and veer towards them.

“Tell them, Marinette! I found you first, you’re my sister now, don’t fall for any of their Jedi mind tricks!”

Marinette just blinked, a little caught off guard. It hadn’t exactly sunk into her head until right that moment that ‘Wayne Family dinner’ would include Jason. Her mind was still catching up to the fact that she was seeing him out of his security guard uniform for the first time. He wasn’t dressed up at all, in a well-loved brown leather jacket over a white shirt and dark wash jeans. He still had his motorcycle gloves on. Marinette looked down at first herself, then Adrien.

“Are we overdressed?” She asked with a grimace. Jason huffed.

“Of course not, you guys look amazing! But seriously, tell them that I claimed you as my sister first and none of them are half as cool as me.”

Marinette and Adrien traded glances before laughing together.

“If we’re being technical here,” Adrien drawled mischievously as he straightened out his vest. “I met Marinette first, and she adopted me as her brother long before we met any of you,” he pointed out with a sharp grin.

“Ha!” a younger man laughed pointedly, following after Jason. The newcomer was dressed more formally, in a dress shirt under a very luxurious looking burgundy designer sweater. Under that, he wore black perfectly-pressed slacks and nondescript oxfords. His collar showed signs of housing a tie earlier, but he had clearly taken it off sometime earlier. His hair hung slightly long, framing his face with two long locks while the back of his hair slightly stuck up in all directions in natural tufted curls. Like Jason, his hair was jet black and he had bright blue eyes. He was also about half Jason’s size, much shorter and leaner than his adoptive brother. “He’s got you there, idiot,” he snarked smugly at Jason before turning to the two guests. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, Mister Agreste. I’m Tim Drake-Wayne, it’s nice to finally meet both of you,” he introduced himself as he walked over to shake their hands. “And your outfits are amazing! Did you make them, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“Marinette,” she corrected with a lopsided grin. “My last name is a mouthful, and I prefer to just go by Marinette anyway. And yes, I made both of these outfits before we left Paris,” she admitted, trying her best to seem professional. She had already ruined her chances of that with Bruce and Jason, but this time she was prepared!

“They are just as impressive as the rest of your work that I’ve seen. And call me Tim, it’s only fair,” and then he smiled.

Damn his boyish grin. He wasn’t someone Marinette had a crush on— he wasn’t her type— but damn he was unfairly charismatic and charming. His smile temporarily short circuited her brain. That was exactly the kind of boyish smile that had started her crush on Adrien, and that she was unfairly weak for. Now she felt a deep-seated urge to protect this boy and his smile or so help her, someone would be sent to the ER if he was hurt and it wasn’t gonna be her. And she didn’t try to dissuade herself from that strong protective urge, her mother had already assured her that all the Waynes were trustworthy and that Tim in particular shared a lot of her bad habits. She could allow this little bit of vulnerability. Hopefully.

“... I’ve only known you for two minutes, but if anything happened to you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself,” she breathed. Adrien elbowed her hard, making her yelp.

“You said that out loud Mari,” he deadpanned. A deep flush immediately came over her face, and she covered her mouth with both hands.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry— but you— just forget I said anything. Please!”

Tim was visibly shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Jason snorted, overcoming his own brief moment of shock pretty easily.

“Careful there,” Jason chided good-heartedly. His gaze met Marinette’s with a slight weight in it though. “You barely know the guy. He’ll annoy you out of your mind soon enough.”

Marinette caught the hint, wincing and changing the subject. Jason could see that she had done exactly as her mother had warned— she had gotten attached to Tim almost immediately. And while he wanted to believe Marinette when she said that the same wouldn’t happen with Joker, that she was not going to repeat her mother’s mistakes…

He couldn’t help but worry. Joker was a slippery bastard, and good at getting past people’s defenses.

Tim eventually led them all to the dining room, where several people were already sat waiting for them.

“We decided it would be best if we didn’t all swarm you at the door,” Tim explained, grinning at her kindly. “Take a seat wherever you want, Alfred is probably going to be done with dinner soon.”

Marinette and Adrien both nodded, going to sit by each other’s side. Adrien put his hand on her knee when they sat down, and traded a meaningful look with her.

“Calm down,” he whispered. “We’re not in Paris. And if you slip, I’ll catch you. Promise.”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed a little. Yeah, she could trust Adrien to make sure she didn’t slip up too much. Get too careless. He’d watch her back like she did for him. She’d be okay. They’d both be okay.

“Thanks, Adrien. I needed that.”

—*—*—*—*—*

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anamatics · 3 years

Note

Your opinion on old fandom forums vs, fandom today?

I didn't answer this one last night as I wanted to be able to type out a proper response, and one that's partly adapted from an essay I wrote back in 2016.

As a fandom old, I’ve spent a long time in fandom spaces. I did my time with writing slash and het ships, but I always loved writing stories for me about people like me. I have witnessed first-hand the rise and fall of listservs and live journal as places where people who liked femslash gathered to discuss their favorite shows. I know a lot of fandom history. When I comment on the events in fandom, it still comes from my position as a fan, not as a creative. I want to preface all of these thoughts with this.

Fandom used to be something that you didn't talk about. It was secret, never mentioned in public, zines and stories mailed back and forth across the country. The internet changed that, people's attitudes toward things like queer and trans identity changed that, people's want to see diversity on their screens changed that. Yet, at the same time, there is a whole new generation of young queer creatives emerging onto the writing scene who have grown up witnessing the rise and fall of these great, monolithic fandoms that exist beyond the space of shows themselves. More and more, networks, writers, and producers are paying attention to what the fandom says and to what they react to.

This is why I don't really like fandom these days, because I've seen both sides. I struggled with this working on Carmilla as someone who had been, and in may ways still was, a fan. I know fans have power, I've done things because I know fans have power. And yet, I felt like I'd lost my place in a community - in old fandom - because of this realization. And I myself asking questions about my place in new fandom. Questions that, most of the time, had no answers.

Is it valid to be both grateful for the acknowledgement of fan desires within the creative side of television and web writing and a little horrified by the amount of entitlement that any capitulation by those productions seems to engender within fans? Am I valid in feeling trapped by this feeling of wanting to be the best possible arbiter of representation and knowing that I can never be perfect because the perfection demanded by the queer community isn’t achievable? Does my voice even matter in fandom circles anymore because I’ve “crossed over” to the other side? Am I allowed to continue to speak critically about representation in shows that are not my own because I haven’t “fixed mine yet”?

I struggled with this when Carmilla was airing. I still struggle with it now, too, because I see how trolls on Twitter and Tumblr have reacted to folks like me speaking out about problems we see in our communities or within fandom. People like me aren’t allowed to criticize fandom, or fandom culture, because we’re no longer seen as truly a part of it: by being creators who can’t always live up to fandom’s sometimes unreasonable standards, we’re now considered just part of the problem. We can’t critique behaviors and call things out within this fandom community that should also represent us because when we do we’re hurting the fandom community.

Every queer creative out there has shouldered some of this hurt, I know I have. I stand by what I’ve said despite the backlash. If you cannot believe in the truth you speak, what good are you to a community looking to you for change?

Those who speak to the internal problems of fandom culture are shouted down. People with years of fandom experience, who are far more knowledgeable of the history of fandom (and especially the femslash corners of it) and presence in media than the present-day narrative setters, are shouted down and told that we are part of the problem. Creatives who speak out and criticize other works are treated equally poorly. The problem is that in refusing to look at the problems within our fandom spaces, and saying that everyone outside the group is to blame for the problems of poor representation, we are sticking our fingers in our ears and refusing to look at what’s wrong with us. We eat our own.

The queer community – and by extension the queer fandom community – functions like an ouroboros as far as I can tell. That’s the snake from Norse mythology that eats its tail, representing infinity but also representing the inevitable crush of our own bullshit as it comes down around us with the hopes of becoming a better community. There should be a place within this community for everyone, and yet it’s this same space that is preoccupied with gatekeeping characterized by constant infighting, identity policing, and silencing or invalidating opinions that don’t perfectly align with this vision of what is considered acceptable in the eyes of the thinking of the day.

Queerness is messy. There’s a lot of nuance to it. And there will always be people who want their own community within that umbrella of queerness. That’s a valid want. You want to be around people who are homogenous, because it’s when variety is introduced that feelings get hurt. But the existence of a community for marginalized people should not come at the detriment and degradation of other vulnerable people, nor should it come at the expanse of dismissing intersectionality within our community.

But instead, we eat our own. We dismiss trans headcanons like people in old fandom used to dismiss queer headcanons. We're doing the same bullshit, just rinsed and repeated, directed at a new set of people whose voices are smaller than the small specks of power new fandom has granted (cis, white) queer people.

We fight ourselves amongst because we feel as though we cannot fight the forces of our own oppression. We censor ourselves to make sure that we don’t say anything to upend the proverbial apple cart. We do this not because we’re afraid of the problematic elements outside of the community that could come into our community, but rather because we’re afraid of those within our own community who have the power to kick us out from under our own umbrella and back into the rain.

So when I think about fandom these days, I imagine this moment of losing community. I imagine the hurtful message sent, the dismissive post on the forum, the hateful tweet, actions that cost nothing when they are directed at creators, fan writers, fan artists. These people exist to create content that is to be consumed. They aren't human. They aren't even real. They're just the producers of content that fandom sucks up like a vacuum cleaner without bothering to engage with the creators except to demand more or demand better. Nothing makes you feel alienated from your community like realizing you only exist to produce for it and when you don't produce to standards, you are attacked.

What's worse is that a lot of folks in fandom don't even think about this these days. There's no risk in blasting off a message or a tweet. But social media is an echo chamber. It’s a hive mind, and it’s a place where people can get hurt, very badly, and very quickly. Social media should not be used as a weapon to badger the people trying to get into positions where they can create change, which is what I feel new fandom has done. But at the same time, new fandom has also become a space where voices can be uplifted, where people can be seen and heard who maybe weren't before.

So TL;DR, I think social media ruined fandom, I have a lot of baggage/trauma from working on a show as fandom was transitioning from old fandom to new fandom, and like... we have to be better to each other.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #writing #fandom #some commentary that I'll probably delete

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Tiny Treasure Shorts: Bunny Tantrum ❤️☁️

Paining: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, hybrid!AU, hybrid!Reader, human!Jungkook

Tags/warnings: Kookers be ignoring his bunny, bits of angst, bunny has thoughts about him not wanting her anymore bless her heart, thumping, bunny behavior, kook be kinda dense ngl, god he’s frustrating, thoughts of abandonment, but nothing drastic lol

Summary: it’s one thing to have friends over. It’s another to ignore your little bunny when she’s right there. And it’s a huge thing to not even realize what you did wrong.

You like to think of yourself as not too clingy.

Of course, since he's your owner and you love him lots, you want to be close to him at all times if that was possible- but you also had a human brain, and common sense. Of course there were times you had to be alone. For example; whenever he's working, you always make sure to stay extra quiet. He needs to concentrate after all- so if you ever visit him in his makeshift office in his apartment, you tend to simply take a nap; the almost rhythmic typing sounds and gentle sighs here and there providing the perfect lullaby for you.

Jungkook likes to have you close during other times, however.

He has stated numerous times again and again that he would never think of you as clingy or that you were getting onto his nerves; more like the opposite. He enjoys having you follow him around the house, noticing how you watch him play video games, or have him talk to you about the most mundane of things. With Jungkook it never mattered if the conversation was deep and meaningful or not- simply exchanging some food for thought was enough.

And of course, he liked to keep you very close throughout the nights.

Now, at first, he had been a little worried. He's anything but a calm sleeper- he moves a lot and due to the size difference between the two of you, he was simply scared to roll you over at night. But eventually, the two of you had found a solution to it that satisfied you both equally. If he held you close during his sleep, he was less prone to shift and turn around as much. And at the same time, you got to cuddle him while sleeping. A win-win situation, really.

So why were you mad right now?

Well it was perfectly fine that he had his friends over. You understood that this was a rare occurance, and that you had only little to really input into the current game of CS:GO- hell, you barely learned the game mechanics yet. And it was fine that he only conversed with them, even after hours had passed.

What didn't sit right with you however was, when he had dismissed you when you had asked if you could go outside to get some snacks from the nearby grocery shop. It would've been okay if he had simply told you no. But that's not what he did; instead, he had waved you off like a bug flying too close to his face.

It felt demeaning, in a way. And it upset you.

And the worst was only to come. Because, naive as you were, you had at least thought that someone if not Jungkook himself would've heard you closing the bedroom door a little louder than usual.

But no one came. And you knew, in a way, the thoughts of him maybe really having gotten tired of your presence were nonsense; you knew for a fact that Jungkook loved you dearly. But that didn't help at all. Already, your brain had come up with scenes of you packing your bags, going back to Taehyungs place just to eventually occupy your old room at the shelter. It made your eyes sting- but you simple pulled your ears over them, as if to force yourself to shut them off.

Only after hours of you laying alone in the bedroom did Jungkook eventually join you in bed. As if nothing was off, he attempted to wrap his arms around you; but he got a reaction he never would've thought he'd get from you.

You pulled in your leg a little, just to kick out with a power that could only be described as anger. You were upset with him- visibly so. "Bunny?" He asked, genuinely confused by your behavior as he leaned over a little to catch a glimpse of your face. But you kicked out again, suddenly standing up before grabbing your blanket, and walking out towards the couch in the living room. It wouldn't provide a good nights rest- the couch way too drowned in too many scents by now, but it would do. You didn't want to be close to Jungkook right now, no matter the cost. "Bunny, no, whats wrong?" He asked, a slight whine to his voice as he squatted down close to your sitting form- your face turned away from him as your arms were crossed; entire body language showing him your stance of defense. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" He asks, and you huff. "Did I do something?" He dares to ask, and your foot hits the ground forcefully.

If you weren't so goddamn angry at him, he would've actually found the action cute.

"What did I do?" He asks, and again, your foot thumps the ground- tiny bunny tail wiggling in frustration as your ears are turned backwards. You're still not looking at him. "Bunny baby if you don't talk to me I can't-" He starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk to you?" You ask bitterly, glossy eyes meeting his widely opened ones, and he genuinely hurts seeing the state you're in. You're clearly upset- and he really doesn't know what happened. "You didn't want my attention the entire day- so why now when everyone's gone? Am I like.. just a place-holder so you don't feel lonely?" You say, your voice breaking at the end because for some reason, saying it out loud actually makes you think about it more deeply. Because it seemed to actually make sense to you. Why else would he ignore you when his friends were over- but give his attention to you when you were alone with him? Were you just a toy for him?

"Baby no, no no no." He rambles out, and groans, as things suddenly click inside his brain. In hindsight he suddenly thinks about his actions more clearly- it makes sense that you're this distressed. After all, the way he had simply dismissed you like a fly unwanted had been uncalled for and absolutely stupid on his side. "I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to do that.." He states, a whine now clearly lacing his voice as you still huff only in frustration, a single kick to the floor showing that you were maybe calming down- but still not okay with his behavior. "Bunny baby.. don't be mad please.." He softly begs, kneeling in front of you so he can rest his hands on your knees- his chin on top of them to catch a glimpse of your face.

"Do you even want me here.?" You softly ask, almost scared of his honest answer. This time he doesn't reply right away- but stands up, to sit on the couch next to you. He pulls you close, uncaring that your leg kicks out, an annoyed whimper escaping you. He holds you tightly however, rubbing his nose over the skin from the side of your jaw down to your shoulder. The affectionate gesture soothes you immensly- and you hate your stupid instincts for doing that to you.

"I'll always want you." He says, voice nowhere near playful or whiny. He's honest, raw, and wants you to understand him. "You're my.. everything. What I did was uncalled for- and I'm truly sorry." He states. "I know it doesn't justify my actions, but this is all still super new to me too.. I'm not used to having someone around twenty-four-seven." He says. "And before you say anything, no, I WANT you close. I want you around all the time." He squeezes you a little tighter once he notices you relax in his arms. "I'm so grateful you're here. I'll better myself. Promise." He says, and you nod after a while, turning in his embrace.

"Koo?" You question tiredly, and he hums a reply. You close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder as you speak your next words. "I'm tired." You say.

He chuckles. "Let's go to bed then?" He questions, and you nod.

"Will you make me pancake for breakfast?" You ask, as he picks you up, blanket and all, to carry you back into the bedroom.

"Anything you want, Bunny." He says, laying you down onto the mattress before climbing in as well, arms around your form as he sighs. "Anything you want.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #hybrid reader

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