#When did people start thinking that expressing your sexuality was a moral offense? just a question. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writer-in-theory · 2 years

Text

you & i are folklore — part two

summary: spencer never thought he'd be caught between two beautiful women. how had he ruined it so wondrously? pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader, spencer reid x austin category: angst no happy ending content warnings: 17+ for heavy sexual allusions, cheating, language word count: 2.5k a/n: i promise it's not all angst no happy ending <3

you & i are folklore masterlist masterlistprevious || next

The first time he saw you, Spencer knew you would change his life.

There wasn’t ever a time in his life when he believed in ‘love at first sight’, but looking at you he knew that you were someone special. It happened when he’d gone to visit Gideon at the FBI Academy not long after the man took a leave of absence from the BAU. It was a rough time on the team—losing a leader so suddenly to something as horrible as that, well it was safe to say the team had lost morale in the immediate weeks after. It didn’t help after seeing Gideon in person again either, because while Spencer would have loved to have him back on the team he couldn’t help but admit the truth—Gideon seemed content there, standing in front of a room of trainees and telling them what he knew of the world.

“Don’t worry, his stories get easier to hear eventually,” a voice said over his shoulder after he exited the room. Spinning around, that was when Spencer saw you, in all your beauty.

“What?” Spencer admitted his confusion, head tilting to the side as he tried to figure out what you meant.

“I keep tellin’ the higher-ups we shouldn’t start the new agents with SSA Gideon, he can be kind of...”

“—intense,” Spencer finished for you, a smile warming his expression as he thought when he’d been recruited by the man himself. All the way back in California just a couple years prior, where Gideon hadn’t exactly strong-armed him but certainly made a compelling enough argument to get Spencer to drop all of his previous plans for life.

“Exactly,” you laughed, sticking out your hand between the two of you and grinning, “Y/N L/N.”

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he answered, “I don’t, uh, I don’t shake hands.”

“No problem,” you said simply. Most people took it as an offense when he declined to shake their hand, but instead you’d taken it in stride. “Well, I can’t wait to see you in my session, Spencer.”

“Session? Oh, I’m not, I’ve already—” Spencer tried to explain, but instead all he could do was sigh and nod his head. “What to do you teach?”

“Gun safety,” you grinned, “it’s okay, Pretty Boy. You wouldn’t be here if noone thought you could handle it. I’ll see you Thursday.”

And how could he ever tell you otherwise? There was no way Spencer could admit that he made it through the training program because Jason Gideon himself had gotten waivers signed on all the things he couldn’t do? That he’d just barely passed his gun certifications, and that he was terrified for when the next one came?

How could he tell you that he was already an agent, and risk never seeing you again?

“I’ll see you Thursday,” Spencer confirmed before practically sprinting back to the BAU’s main office.

The BAU office where, now Derek Morgan and JJ were hovered around where he sulked at his desk.

“Kid, you have to tell her sooner or later,” Derek laughed, patting him on the back as if this advice would somehow help him. Because Spencer knew that, he really did, so then why had he let you believe anything but the truth? How could he possibly show up Thursday and convince you he had lied because he wasn’t thinking, not because he had any nefarious intentions? “It’s Agent L/N, she’ll find out one way or another.”

“What do you mean? Do you know her?”

“Spence,” JJ laughed gently, as though this were something he should have realized from the start. “You remember how Hotch was saying the training program was just completely redone because of a young agent coming in with some great ideas? That’d be her.”

“Isn’t the Academy usually staffed by retired agents? Or agents who can’t be in the field anymore?” Spencer asked, wondering what you were doing there. You didn’t look any older than Morgan or JJ, so how had you ended up where you were so soon?

“Guess you’ll find out on Thursday. Don’t let any of the new recruits show you up, Kid,” Morgan laughed before the three of them split to actually get some work done. Well, the two of them did. Spencer ended up sitting at his desk wondering how he could possibly make it through this without making a joke of himself.

It seemed impossible that there would ever be anyone that made Spencer feel the way you did. And yet, a bartender in Atlanta, Georgia managed to do that very thing.

It began as a joke, really. Spencer lamented to Derek how he wasn’t able to ask anyone out, ever. There just weren’t people who liked him, and that would have to be okay.

“C’mon, Pretty Boy, we’ve seen the way Y/N looks at you,” Derek countered, raising an eyebrow as his closest friend’s complaints.

“We’re not dating.” Spencer was quick to challenge the idea of a relationship—not because he didn’t want one with you, on the contrary he couldn’t imagine anything better, but rather that even after so many years you hadn’t asked if he wanted to be your boyfriend, and he hadn’t asked it of you either. Sure the two of you went on dates and you spent more nights at his apartment than not, but no words had been said. And he couldn’t have a rumor spread around that would scare you away if all you wanted was to be friends.

“Then we’ll get you date,” Derek conceded, quickly beginning to explain how he managed to ask so many women out with complete ease.

And when it came time to test his skills, Spencer knew exactly who he was drawn to. It was the confident woman behind the bar with a careful smile and kind eyes. The one who teased him but never once made it seem like he was the punchline of the joke, the one who genuinely seemed impressed by his magic trick. Spencer couldn’t let himself be distracted from the job by a woman, but he told himself that if Austin was interested then she’d figure out the roman numerals on the card he gave her.

Surprisingly enough, she did just that. Not a couple weeks after they returned from Atlanta, Spencer was getting a call from a 470 area code number.

He already had you in his life though, a woman who made him feel more special than anyone else had ever managed to before. You brightened up his life in a way that he’d only ever read about, so Spencer dodged Austin’s call and told himself that he could wait for whenever you were ready for a relationship.

Except, months passed and suddenly it was May. It was May and you were packing away all of your essentials in a large duffel bag, eyebrows furrowed together as your mind drifted to places far from D.C.

“Do you really have to go to Seattle?” Spencer asked, knowing the truth but still not wanting to accept that you were willing to put yourself in more danger again. “How do you know you’re safe again? Your cover was blown, they could still be looking for you.”

“You think I don’t know that, Spencer?” you called back, voice sounding sharper than normal. He told himself it was because you were stressed, that your anger wasn’t actually directed toward him at all. “This is my best friend, I can’t just leave him to...”

Spencer knew what the end of that sentence would sound like, and he also knew that he would have done the same. He would have risked anything if Derek or Emily needed his help. That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye, though.

“You’re coming back though, right?”

“Spencer,” you sighed, all tension in your body melting away with the word. You dropped the clothes you’d been folding and made your way back around the bed, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m not leaving you forever. It’ll be two weeks tops, okay? I’m just the best qualified to get him back. You’ll be so busy, you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Spencer knew that wasn’t true at all, but still he let you leave. And sure, he did try to throw himself back into work but as May melted into June, everything stopped working to distract him.

He told himself it was your fault that he was drawn to that 470 phone number again, that if you’d been there he wouldn’t have had to think about it at all. That you’d told him 2 weeks and it had already been a month, that while you were calling him you sounded far too distracted, like it was a chore to call him rather than a desire.

Austin was everything he hoped she would be. She was strong, and hilarious, and absolutely kind. And for a moment, Spencer didn’t have to think about you and all your confusing signals. Instead, he could be with someone who made him happy and wanted to be with him too.

Summer was unbelievable. And yet, Spencer couldn’t help but think of you some nights. Those nights when Austin fell asleep before him, and his apartment was entirely too silent for the late hour. It gave him time to think about everything he’d shoved to the back of his mind since May.

And even when Spencer could fall into a blissful sleep, he still dreamt of you. He dreamt of you returning home, of you finally realizing everything you wanted with him. Everything he wanted with you. He dreamed of fairytales that were never meant to come true, because you were perfect and he was...well, him.

Austin wasn’t a fairytale. She was real and tangible, and most importantly, she wanted to stay.

Spencer was beginning to believe that you would never come back, that you’d remembered how much you’d left behind in Seattle, of how little you had keeping you in D.C.

So it was a shock when you stepped through the door that warm evening in August. It was unbearably hot that day so despite the sun finally beginning to set, every window in his apartment was open. The lazy wind trailed through and ruffled his hair, reminded him of how much he wanted to remain in his safe bubble with Austin.

Of how much you were walking into now.

“Tell me it’s not true,” you snapped immediately, no welcome or anything.

Though Spencer didn’t often understand vague phrases like that, he did understand this one. He understood this one with far too much clarity, because now the words were slicing into his chest with far too much force.

“Y/N,” he began, hands up as if that would soothe you in some way. “I d—”

“That better be the truth coming out of your mouth right now,” you warned, and though deep down Spencer knew you had a point, a part of him stunted at that. How dare you come into his apartment and accuse him of anything? You were gone for months, and now you thought you had some hold over him?

The fight lasted longer than it should’ve. When Austin stepped into the room, all Hell broke loose. You said hateful words toward Spencer and he had no problem throwing them right back. It was so loud that he thought for sure someone would call the police to check in on them.

And when you left with your bag in hand, Spencer knew immediately that he’d made a mistake. You thought the two of you had been dating? This whole time?

This whole time he could’ve had you, he did have you, and Spencer had no idea? He had you and now he was letting you walk out of his life forever, simply because he hadn’t thought to ask what your intentions with him were.

You’d made mistakes too. There were things Spencer looked back on even now and knew they had led to this moment here.

And yet, you had never cheated on him. Spencer had thought you might’ve, had begun to believe that maybe the best friend you were saving was a little more than a best friend. Clearly there were stories there that you hadn’t told him even after five years of knowing each other, what else was he meant to believe? He knew you had to have slept with that guy at some point.

And yet, he’d done the very same, hadn’t he?

Spencer wished he could have been able to dispel the rumors you’d heard. He didn’t even know how you found out, but all he knew was that he wished above everything else that he could have reassured you it was just a rumor.

But he couldn’t.

And you were gone.

And Austin was here, but he knew he’d lost her too.

He’d lost her because she’d only stay if he could promise that he cared about her more than you. Could he do that?

Austin was kind, and gentle, and brightened his summer. But you had brightened the past five years. Even through all of those dagger-wounds you’d hurt each other with, Spencer wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you. He knew above all that while Austin could make him happy, he’d always dream of you.

After spending one last night together, Spencer let Austin go. He’d woken up early that morning, as soon as she carefully disentangled herself from him. He kept his eyes closed, trying to feign sleep so he wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

Maybe it was a coward’s move, or maybe it was the move of a man who couldn’t stand saying goodbye to another woman who deserved better. Someone who deserved so much better and yet still had wrongfully chosen him.

Spencer wished Austin would find everything she deserved in the world.

He wished you would find that too, but he also wished you could find it in yourself to forgive him.

So he lay there that morning, completely alone for the first time in years. He lay there awake but dreaming of you, of all the ways he would try to make it up to you. Spencer would give you the space you needed to get over how he’d hurt you that day, but he couldn’t go the rest of his life without letting you know how sorry he was, how much he wanted you back.

So he hoped, and he dreamt of the day he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

GENERAL TAGLIST @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @safespacespence @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @sweetandsunny @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @kateyee @exhaleli @m-mhotchner @darkeunology @nomajdetective @fairyellieee @meggie-m00n @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @kaitieskidmore1 @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @tanyaherondale @reliefplease @lcveandrea @1-800-brain-and-heart @lcvingprentjss @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @nani-2305 @betharios @mente-sindescanso @girloncorneliastreet @reidselle @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @just-a-lone-writer @jj76889 @luna-novae @maltamurdock @folkreid

taglist signup link → here

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fandom #dr spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #jay writes in theory

117 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Left Behind - Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

Gif was made by my official gif maker friend @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Words: 4.753k

A/N> It's been 84 years... I just hope someone still reads this haha Let me know what you think

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

When you wake up, you get your ass beaten up by an unknown woman.

You awaken all at once, advancing against the woman who was watching you sleep. Her surprise only lasts a second, however, as the next she returns your blow and knocks you to the ground, a gun pointed straight at your face.

Wide-eyed, you realize where you are and raise your hands.

"Sorry, sorry." You can quickly. "I thought I was in the lab again. Who the hell are you by the way?"

The woman raises her eyebrow at you.

"Cap, get over here before I shoot her."

And the next second, a blond man is running into the area of the ship where you are, looking worried.

"Let's all calm down, okay?" He asks as he sees the gun extended, and waits for the woman to put it down. You sigh lightly, rising to stand up.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, Miss." You ask as soon as you are on your feet, and massage your shoulder, which hit the ground hard when she knocked you down.

"It's fine, you just got beat up anyway." She teases, making you give a short laugh.

You were about to ask if they could let you off the ship anywhere, but a low groan of pain beside you caught your attention.

Just then you noticed the man lying on the stretcher next to you a few feet away, a large wound in his rib. You are also able to notice the rest of the ship, there is a man piloting a few meters away, and two men sitting further ahead, talking to each other.

"Hey, I can help." You stated immediately, but as soon as you moved, the woman stood in front of you, looking at you with suspicion and defiance, and you swallowed dryly. "I-I can heal him." You clarified, but the woman only changed her posture when the man next to you touched her forearm.

"Can you do that?" He asks you, and you nod. You wait for the woman to take a step back to approach the man on the stretcher.

"Hey, are you guys sure of this?" The man lying down asked uncomfortably, and you raise your hands in the air.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I won't hurt you, I promise. "You guarantee it." Can I heal your injuries?" You ask and wait for him to confirm.

The wound is deep, but you have dealt with much worse.

"How did you do that?"

"It was nothing." You say as you put your hands down. His skin was completely intact again.

"This sure is cooler than lightning, huh, Thor?" Commented the blond as he sat down on the stretcher, clearly feeling better. The long-haired man at the back of the ship looks at you curiously as he stands up, and when he notices his colleague completely healed, he looks impressed.

"This sure is an interesting skill for a mortal." He says to you, and you don't know exactly what to make of those words, but you don't have time to comment, because he is already approaching to introduce himself. "My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder."

You frown.

"G-god of thunder?" You repeat confused. "Sorry, is that some kind of joke?"

The woman next to you giggles, moving to sit on the stretcher next to the man you healed. The blond man in front of you looks slightly offended, but his expression softens immediately.

"I understand that at first, mortals may be incredulous at such a..."

"No, I just thought the title was funny." You interrupt the blond man, surprising him. "You guys are the Avengers, aren't you? My master has already told me about you."

“Your master?”

It is the other blond guy in the blue uniform who asks. You mentally repress yourself.

"Damn, sorry." You say. "It's what I used to call the soldiers and doctors who gave me orders."

"Your files say that you disappeared in Sokovia when you were younger, and what we found at the base were the records of the experiments they did on you." He adds, and you twiddle your fingers nervously. "I just want to make sure you're not going to try to bring the plane down with everyone inside."

The attempted joke is enough to make you smile, but you are beginning to feel overwhelmed. You really were free. After all this time, the idea seemed almost absurd.

You try to control your emotion at once, and the man seems to notice, because his expression softens immediately.

"Hey, come have a seat." He asks, signaling to one of the empty chairs, and you obey. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I promise you're safe now. Hydra will never hurt you again."

You nod frantically, feeling the tears in your eyes. But you try to normalize your breathing, not wanting to cry in front of strangers.

"I'm sorry, I just... I've just been trying to get away for so long." You confess next, wiping your eyes quickly. "It's weird to think I succeeded."

"We are going back to the Avengers tower now. Is there anyone you would like to get in touch with?" He asks, and his words make your stomach sink.

"Yes." You say. "But I have no idea where they are."

"Who? Your family?"

You give a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. They were..." You start trying to remember exactly. You didn't even know how long it had been since the time you saw the twins at the Hydra base. You had no idea if they were alive, but you wanted to believe they were. Taking a deep breath, you continue. "They were my friends. Wanda and Pietro, we grew up together. They... I saw them once. When I still had the serum in my head. I..."

Seeing your difficulty in organizing your thoughts, Steve interrupts you by touching your forearm.

"It's okay." He says. "We'll find the twins."

"So they really are alive?"

Steve smiles.

"Yes." He answers and you feel your body relax all at once. "They ran away, I imagine they were scared, but we'll find them."

You gasp, unable to control your tears. Neither Steve nor the rest of the Avengers seem to care.

When you calm down, Steve introduces you to the rest of the team.

You are not exactly happy to meet Tony Stark. The mention of his last name makes you frown, because you know it was a Stark bomb that blew up your home at Sokovia, but when you accuse Tony, he seems really upset.

"Well, I guess you can get on the list of people who hate me then." He grumbles and you cross your arms, the whole team sensing the tension in the air.

"You could at least apologize for blowing up half of Sokovia with your weapons." You retort angrily, and the man rolls his eyes, not getting up from the armchair you were in.

"Sure, no problem. I'm sorry, kiddo. Happy?"

You clench your jaw, but before you can say anything, Steve steps forward.

"Tony, try not to be a jerk, okay?" The captain speaks and the other man lets out a wry laugh. "Have at least some respect for the girl's story."

"I have respect, Captain." He assures as he stands up, looking impatient. "What I don't have is time to revisit the past while our enemies get more and more powerful." He says and you frown in confusion. "I've already banned weapons production in the industries, and we've already taken on Hydra in that place. Now we can move on, because I need to get back to the compound and understand exactly what that thing is."

He speaks and finishes by signaling to the opposite side, and it is only then that you notice the shining scepter on the far side of the room and let out a surprised exclamation, taking three steps backwards.

"How did you guys get this?" You ask horrified and the team looks at you curiously.

"Have you seen the scepter before?"

"Of course I have!" You reply. "That's what gave me the healing! The damn stone went through my chest."

Thor steps forward, looking at you in surprise.

"So Hydra were able to decipher the scepter?

You laugh humorlessly.

"If by decipher you mean press the scepter against my chest while preening me in an iron chair, then yes." You reply, but take a deep breath to calm yourself. "A yellow stone came off as soon as the scepter touched me. And well, it went right through my skin. When I woke up, I could heal. But whatever it is, it killed all the soldiers who were holding me."

Thor seems to consider your words as Steve tells you that he is sorry for what you went through in Hydra.

Suddenly you remember where you first saw him.

"The man on the bridge!" You exclaimed, surprising him, but you were getting your memories gradually, and your heart was racing. "You are Captain America.... My god, where is Bucky?"

"Great, another fan of the metal arm." Tony comments sarcastically, but no one seems to care.

Steve looks at you with a frown.

"Is he safe? Is he free? Can I see him?" You ask promptly next, and Natasha chuckles.

"Hey, calm down." Steve asks and you swallow dryly, trying not to feel so overwhelmed with so many memories coming back at once. "How do you know Bucky?"

You blink in surprise.

"He...he didn't talk about me?"

It takes a second, and then Steve's eyes widen.

“Oh my god, you’re the guardian!

"I am what now?"

Steve lets out an incredulous laugh.

"The guardian." He repeats as if you were going to understand what he meant.

Natasha clears her throat.

"Captain, perhaps you'd better explain." She asks and Steve gestures quickly.

"We've been looking for you for months." Steve then adds, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise. "Bucky he... he's been trying to find you since he escaped. But he didn't know your name. All he knew was the nickname you got from the soldiers. The golden guardian of death. It's been our only tip to find you."

"I thought it was just golden guardian." Clint adds next, Nat makes a noise of agreement.

"No, I'm sure it was just Guardian of Death." Thor comments, but you are barely listening to the teasing, feeling your thoughts racing.

Steve raises his hands to your shoulders.

"Thank you so much for saving Bucky." He says before hugging you. You feel your neck heat up at the sudden contact, but do your best to reciprocate.

Steve lets you go then, smiling.

"He's going to be so happy to see you."

"Where is he?"

"At the compound." Steve replies. "He cannot attend field missions, it's part of the pardon. It's too much bureaucracy to explain now.."

"I think he's just lazy." Tony adds wryly, making the Avengers giggle.

And Steve's smile dies briefly.

"What's with you today, anyway, Stark?"

Tony sighs impatiently, finally rising from his armchair.

"I'm sorry if I'm not reacting in the way you consider proper captain, but I'm concerned about getting to work soon." He says as he moves toward you two. “I need to find out what this thing really is.”

"No, Stark, you won't touch this." It is Thor who announces, and all the avengers look genuinely surprised.

"I beg your pardon?" Stark retorted, but Thor didn't hesitate before he looked at you next.

"Describe to me again how you got your healing, mortal."

You sigh lightly.

"They locked me in an iron chair and brought the scepter." You narrated. "But they lie me on the chair next, and I could only feel the metal against my skin, and then I saw a yellow light. Something went right through my chest, and then right through." You say. "I blacked out for a second, the room was completely empty like a vision. When I blinked, it was back, but all the soldiers holding me were dead. And then they knocked me out."

"Before you said you saw a yellow stone?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I dreamed of this memory for several days." You clarify. "I was back in the room, but this time I watched myself. I saw when they put the scepter to my chest, and when the golden stone came out and went through my skin. It was the stone that released the wave of energy that killed the soldiers .I don't know why I didn't die too."

"A single blow that killed a group of soldiers at once." Thor mutters more to himself than to the rest of the teams. "It's decided then, no mortal must touch this. It's clearly far more power than anyone should have."

"This is ridiculous." Thor accused the next moment, making the team look at him curiously. "You can't just deny knowledge about something like that and..."

"Why are you so insistent on this, Tony?" It's Steve who asks suspiciously. Tony sighs, and gives a short laugh.

"You guys are unbelievable, you know." He says. "I'm trying to find new alternatives to our problems."

"What problems?" Steve asks with a confused grimace, and Tony rolls his eyes, looking nervous.

"Our enemies, Captain!" He snarls. "In case you haven't noticed, it hasn't been too long since we faced an army of robots coming from a hole in the sky!" He accuses. "We don't have the power to face this kind of thing. The scepter is exactly what I need to prevent the worst from happening."

"Where did that come from, Tony?" Steve retorted confused.

Stark gave a short laugh, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have time for this." He grimaced and moved to grab the scepter, but Thor stood in the way, arms crossed. "Really?" Tony impatiently charges, but Thor doesn't move. Stark clenches his jaw before declaring angrily. "I had a vision, okay? I saw all of us, defeated. Defeated because we didn't have the power to win. And I... I could have prevented it."

The avengers look as confused as you are, and remain silent. Tony sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"It was New York again, but this time the enemy won." He continues, visually upset. When he lifted his face in Steve's direction, his look was angry, but his eyes had tears in it. "And you told me that I could have stopped it."

“I wouldn't do that.” Steve says. “If we ever lose, I wouldn't blame you, Tony.”

Tony gives a short laugh.

“Wouldn’t you really?” He retorts. “I’m pretty sure you would, cap.”

Steve takes a step forward, his eyes soften as he looks at his friend.

“I promise you, Tony. If we lose, we lose together.” He declares. “That’s what being an Avengers means. I’m sorry if I was not clear before, and made you feel any different than this or…”

“Stop it!” Tony angrily interrupts. You flinch because you think you saw a familiar red light in his eyes. “Cut this sentimental crap, Steve. I’m just trying to do what’s necessary here.”

“Back off, Stark!” You order as you noted how he has moved his wand to the scepter, he seems surprised by the action too. You move in his direction as he takes two steps back, looking irritated. You gave him no time to answer however, as you raise your hands over his head and touch his forehead with your fingers before he can complain.

Immediately, you can feel the remnants of magic on Tony's head. You don't recognize it at first, but as your own magic removes the other energy, you sigh slightly. It feels familiar, but you don't know why. The energy is still harmful though, probably due to the intention of the one who cast it, but you manage to clean it all up.

You succeed because you coordinate your magic to wipe the other energy like you usually clear and heal wounds, and it seems to work, because Tony raises his hands to your wrist, his wide-eyed eyes soften and he looks almost startled.

"I'm sorry." He asks and swallows dryly. You remove your fingers from his forehead completely, watching with curiosity. He takes a deep breath, blinking several times as if waking up. "I'm sorry, everyone, I... Damn, it was like a horrible dream. I need to lie down for a minute."

And with that he leaves.

You don't ask questions anymore, because Steve is going after him, and you are trying to figure it out why you still feel the unknown magic tingling at your fingertips, as if it is trying to merge with yours.

//-//

You cry when you see Bucky again.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, and then he's running up, hugging you tight.

Your conversation is long and intense, and is almost mostly made up of gratitude.

The other Avengers seem very happy to see the whole interaction, especially Steve.

Tony isolates himself in his room as soon as you arrive, and Thor looks upset. He and Bruce discuss something, and then they go to talk to Tony.

You don't pay attention because you are listening to Bucky tell you about getting all his memories back, and living with the Avengers since you helped him. He was now free from Hydra's control, and was pardoned by the state on condition that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

Nat also added in his narrative the information that he and Steve were "making fondue" and the joke made him laugh with red cheeks but you didn't understand what that meant.

You are very happy to see him, but you can't help but think that he was not the one you wanted to find when you were free.

When he introduces you to the rest of the compound, and to your room, you hug him in appreciation, and you both exchange a knowing look, finally acknowledging that you are safe.

//-//

Your first night in the compound is a strange one.

After meeting the whole team, who were polite despite having fought you a few hours ago, you received a full meal and then locked yourself in your room.

But you were not used to having such a soft bed, not even before Hydra, so sleeping seemed kind of impossible.

Figuring that the Avengers wouldn't mind you taking a late night stroll, you left your room.

"Are you lost, girl?" A female voice suddenly sounded making you jump in fright. It was Natasha Romanoff, or as she introduced herself earlier, Black Widow.

"S-sorry, ma'am." You retorted clumsily, and the woman raised her eyebrows at you. "I can't sleep."

"First, I'm not old, so don't call me ma'am." She commented wryly, and you tried to smile. "Second, I know the feeling. If you want, I can distract you."

Your last social conversation with a woman happened a long time ago, and then you find yourself asking:

"Are you inviting me to have sex?"

Nat lets out a surprised laugh, crossing her arms.

"Where did that come from?" she asks, and you scratch your neck lightly.

"Sorry, I learned how to talk to women from television shows that Hydra soldiers watched in the labs. Bad references. What did you mean by distracting me?"

Nat laughed, impressed by your words.

"I meant like have some tea and tell a story." She clarifies, not sounding the least bit upset. You put your hands in the pockets of the pajamas you've been given.

"R-right. That sounds more appropriate." You mumble with flushed cheeks, eliciting another laugh from the woman. As you begin walking side by side, she comments.

"You know, I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you around here. You are just as awkward as Steve and Bucky."

You end up hearing a story about agents in Budapest, but it seems Nat doesn't tell the whole story. It's nice, though, you missed talking to someone.

"That thing you did earlier with Tony, that was really cool." Nat remarks after a pause in silence.

You take a sip of your tea after shrugging, but she seems inquisitive.

"How did you know it was Maximoff who messed with his head?"

You almost choke at the sudden mention of the name and Nat's watchful gaze makes it impossible to disguise. You sigh.

"I... They are my friends." You confess looking down at the cup, "Or they used to be."

Raising your gaze to Nat again, she only seems curious to know, and you shrug slightly, deciding to trust her.

"We grew up together in Sokovia." You count twirling your fingers on the handle of your cup, "They were the only family I had in the orphanage. And well, it was for them that I broke into a Hydra building."

Nat listens to your story intently, and you swallow dryly before continuing.

"When they captured me, the serum, it... well, it didn't exactly leave me conscientious." You try to explain. "It was like pushing all my memories away, my mind would become completely empty."

“"Is that what they did to Bucky?" Nat questions and you shake your head.

"No, they used electric shock on Bucky." You return with a grimace. "With me, they couldn't hurt me permanently, so they needed something that would make me obey without me being able to heal. It was like being drunk, I guess, only much worse."

“I’m sorry.”

"It 's fine.” You say with a sad smile. “I was dumb enough to go there, i knew the risks.”

“Don’t say that.” Nat asks with a serious voice. “It’s was not your fault they torture kids.”

"And whose fault is it, then?" You retorted, upset, with yourself more than with Nat or anyone else. "My friends for being stubborn idiots? Of Stark for throwing a bomb in my building? I'm tired of looking for reasons to justify what happened to me. Nothing is enough, and I just want to see my friends."

Nat sighs lightly, and raises a hand on the table to reach for yours. You want to hold back the tears, but they are already falling before you can do so.

"I promise we will find your family." She assures you tenderly, and you feel your heart soar at the possibility.

You nod in understanding, taking a deep breath to stop crying.

Nat squeezes your hand, and it takes a moment for you to speak again.

"Wanda." You begin, and almost sob. It has been a long time since you have spoken that name. "She... She must have gotten her powers the same way I did." You say trying to remember everything you witness in Hydra at that moment. "I remember the soldiers talking about the twins being the only ones to survive the stone besides me."

"From Shield records, we know she can manipulate energy and Pietro can run really fast." Nat informs as she releases your hand. She sits thoughtfully for a moment."Maybe because you all got the magic through the same source, you can heal what she can do to Tony's mind. But that's not really my area, maybe you should talk to Thor as well."

You sigh lightly, wiping away the remainder of the tears falling on your face.

"I will." You say. "But I want to find Wan-the twins first." You correct yourself quickly, hoping Nat doesn't notice your flushed cheeks. She does, but says nothing.

"Try to get some rest." She asks as she picks up the teacups. "We have a party coming up, and then Thor is supposed to return to Asgard. I imagine you will want to have a little chat with Bucky before you return to Sokovia."

"I would go back to Sokovia right now if you ask me." You mutter making Nat chuckle lightly. "But I don't want to disturb any of you. I've waited for a long time, I can wait a little longer."

When Nat turns around after putting the glasses in the sink, she has a soft expression.

"You are not a nuisance here, kid." She assures with a smile. "We've just been caught a little by surprise with a new person, but it will be a pleasure to help you find the twins." She says and then has a mischievous expression. "I shouldn't tell you yet, but Steve is pretty excited about the whole thing. He wants you and the twins to join the team eventually."

"Really?" You ask in surprise and Nat just mumbles in agreement, still smiling.

She turns around on the countertop and before she leaves, she turns to you.

"If you ask my opinion, you seem to care a lot about both of them." She says. "I think that no matter how much time has passed, or if they are fighting on opposite sides, she will be happy to see you."

You swallow dryly, looking away.

Nat smiles one last time before leaving and you twiddle your fingers nervously, sitting for a while at the table before returning to your room.

With much to think about, you are surprised that you fall asleep almost instantly as you lie down.

//-//

The Hydra serum is still in your system.

You realize it in a rather embarrassing way actually.

After waking up on the couch, you went to the kitchen.

Bucky tells you that all the team is having a meeting and they will join you two soon, so you just lay against the wall while he reads the newspaper out loud for you.

The Avengers stay in the meeting room for a long time, and don't seem very pleased when they leave, but Tony seems intrigued.

You are surprised that he comes to talk to you as soon as he sees you.

"I didn't thank you for yesterday, kid." He says with a smile. "Whatever you did took away that bad feeling. Now I can work without having to hide that I'm trying to help."

You didn't quite know what to respond, but it didn't matter because Tony was patting you on the shoulder before smiling contentedly at the rest of the team.

"While I figure out a way to decipher the stone, which won't be hard since I'm incredibly smart." He begins his speech, causing the group to let out debauched laughter. "You guys can get busy with whatever old people do for fun. Except you Thunderlord, I'm going to need your help in the lab."

"Wow, Tony Stark asking for help." Thor teases and you watch the interaction with a smile on your lips, moving to join the table. "What a little magic doesn't do to your head, heh?"

"Don't tease me, Thundercat. I'll throw you out of this building, and you won't get any breakfast." He says with false seriousness and you laugh lightly as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. "Hey, kid, give me some too?"

"Ja, Master." You respond mechanically, perhaps even a little sleepily. The Avengers look at you with curiosity and confusion as they see you mechanically pour the coffee, and hand it to Tony, who looks shocked.

"He is not your master, kid." It is Natasha who breaks the silence, and you blink in confusion looking around for a moment.

"R-right." You say. "Sorry about that, Tony. Old habits I guess."

Tony thanks you for the drink, and you think the subject is going to die, but then Natasha keeps looking at you.

"Hey, Y/N, come over here." She asks and you move immediately. Shit. Natasha raises her eyebrow. "Take two steps to the left." Your body obeys. “Now to the right.” She asks and you obey again. This is terrible. The widow looks at you impressed.

"That looks bad." Tony quickly mocks before waving for Thor to accompany him to the lab, justifying that they should get to work soon.

Nat continues to look at you incredulously, but then Steve gets up from the table as well and snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, making you jump in fright slightly. He assumes a worried expression afterwards.

"You are obeying our orders as if we were your masters." He says. "Let's go see Bruce in the lab, he'll want to run some tests."

When you reach the lab, and Steve explains to Bruce what happened at breakfast, you are not surprised that he puts needles in your arm. You hope the news will be good when he finishes assessing your blood.

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @aimezvousbrahms // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda x reader #Left Behind #wanda maximoff #avengers fanfic #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

327 notes · View notes

cursestothemoon · 4 years

Text

Dimly-Lit Corners and Dark Corridors

Requested: yesss

Harry Potter x Fem!reader (house not specified)

Warning: suggestive themes (nothing overtly sexual), kissing, awkward Harry, mentions of scarring (Umbridge)

Word Count: 2773

alright this one is really cute and harry is so awkward and sweet and dorky and just 🥰 but yeah i really like this one

✧✧✧

Harry was with Hermione as they returned books in the library. Really, Hermione was putting the books back whilst also complaining about Ron, and Harry… well Harry was just there for moral support.

“Was I under the impression that he and I would be attending Slughorn’s Christmas party together? Yes. Now, given the circumstances, I’ve had to make other arrangements.”

Harry was surprised to hear this, to him the solution was obvious really, “Have you?”

“Yes,” Her look was defensive. “Why?”

“Well I just thought, seeing as neither of us can go with who we’d really like to, we should go together as friends.”

Hermione groaned, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Who are you going with?” Harry was now extremely curious.

But as Hermione started talking, something about not being able to tell him just yet, Harry’s attention had been stolen. His eyes followed after the group of girls a year older than him and Hermione that had just walked into the library, conveniently sitting at the table closest to the aisle he and Hermione were in. It wasn’t the whole group that had a hold on his focus, no, just one girl that happened to be the center of the group. Harry felt his stomach erupt in the most ridiculous butterflies as he watched Y/n L/n throw her head back in laughter. Time seemed to slow as he watched her smile, hair cascading down her back and Harry couldn’t help but think of a hundred and one scenarios of him, her, and his hands running through her-

“Harry!” Hermione hit his shoulder with a book.

“Ow, Hermione.” Harry grumbled, hand going to rub the area on his shoulder that was sure to form a bruise.

His eyes shot over to Y/n, praying she didn’t see the embarrassing exchange before he turned back to Hermione, luckily she was still giggling at something her friend was saying to notice the assault.

“What was that for?”

Hermione laughed, “If you like her so much, just talk to her.”

“You say that like it’s easy, Hermione.” Harry sighed.

Y/n L/n had appeared on Harry’s radar last year. She had come to DA meetings with her friends and was exceptionally good at most defensive and offensive spell work. She was friendly and funny and incredibly beautiful, the kind of beautiful that was beyond just her looks. Harry was sure if she had walked into a room full of strangers everyone would turn to look, it was late one night when Harry decided to call it her ‘aura’. Even so, Harry had been so stressed about DA meetings he didn’t really develop a crush on her until one day he had gone to help Fred and George with a defensive spell and they were standing with her mid conversation. It was quite clear that Fred had been putting all the moves on her, George going about it with more of a subtle approach, yet Harry noticed she was nothing but friendly. And when he walked up to them, Y/n had turned to him with the most dazzling smile and a gentle hand to his bicep. Harry definitely understood why Fred was so grumpy when he was rejected after the meeting, but Harry also had never been able to produce a patronus so easily the next meeting when he saw Y/n again, Fred free.

From then on Harry swore no one could hold a candle to her, he was sure veelas were created with Y/n L/n as inspiration. Ron definitely made fun of him for his more poetic bouts of professing his love to an imaginary Y/n that lived in his dorm. To say Harry was less than smooth when talking to Y/n was an understatement, so he’s resorted to avoiding most interactions with her.

“It is that easy. People are calling you ‘The Chosen One’ she’s probably just too shy to talk to you herself.” Hermione said, bringing him out of his thoughts again.

“That’s not true.”

“Think about it, Harry. It seems like all the girls this year are trying to go after you. Like…there, see that girl over there?” She asked, subtly motioning to a girl with curly hair on the opposite side of the room.

Harry nodded.

“That’s Romilda Vane, I overheard her and some other girls in the bathroom. They were planning how to slip you a love potion.”

“Really?” This was all news to Harry.

Hermione scoffed, “She’s only interested in you because she thinks you’re the chosen one.”

“But I am the chosen one.”

He received another hit to the shoulder, the same book and girl the cause of his pain.

“Right, sorry.”

“All I’m saying is, you could use it to your advantage.” Hermione suggested.

Harry grumbled again, “I doubt she cares, Hermione. She hasn’t tried to slip me anything, we barely talk.”

“You barely talk,” Hermione turned to put a book on a shelf. “Because you don’t try to talk to her. You can’t expect her to just fall to your feet, she seems like she knows her worth and isn’t going to beg you to date her.”

“It wouldn’t be...falling at my feet… it would be showing interest.” Harry said matter-of-factly.

Hermione shook her head, “Boys don’t understand anything.”

“Well, I wou-” Harry let out a grunt as his back hit something.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Harry turned around so fast he almost tripped, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he heard Y/n’s voice behind him. She was standing with both her hands out, one holding his bicep the other on his chest to steady him.

“Y/n, I didn- you- how are- what’s me? No, I mean, what’s up?”

He was certain Fred had been smoother and he got rejected, he had no chance. But he perked up at the sound of her giggle, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“I’m alright, Harry. I just wanted to come say hi, you know since we haven’t talked much after meetings last year.” Her face started to glow an ethereal pink as she talked and Harry felt his jaw start to hang open just slightly.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, how’s everything been, then….with you?” Harry stuttered.

Y/n smiled, hands now back at her sides, “I’ve been good, missed the D.A., ya know? What about you, Harry, have you been alright with everything?”

“Oh, yeah, great, fantastic. I am the chosen one. Wait! No, I didn’t mean like- I don’t know why I said that.”

Y/n nodded and let out a chuckle at the way Harry fumbled.

“I’ve heard. Good on you for finally getting the Prophet to listen. Anyway, I shou-”

“Go to Slug Club with me.”

Hermione couldn’t hold her laugh at the confused expression on Y/n’s face, or the completely mortified look Harry was sporting.

Harry calmed himself before clarifying, “Professor Slughorn has these...parties, and he told us to bring someone along for the Christmas party. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me… to the party?”

“Oh-”

“You don’t have to, it’s alright, really. I’ll ju-”

He was cut off by Y/n putting a hand on his shoulder as she spoke, “I’d love to go with you.”

“Brilliant!” Harry smiled, day suddenly brighter and mood better.

She then turned to Hermione and asked if she’d be there too, to which Hermione responded with a grumbled ‘unfortunately’ before bringing a smile back to her face to tell Y/n she would be excited to see her.

Harry was beyond nervous, his palms were slick with sweat and his hair was far from as tame as he would’ve liked. The Christmas party was in an hour and he had to meet Y/n in half, his nerves were on fire at the thought of being with her all night. Of course, he’d have to talk to her and she’d walk in with him with her arm in his. Or was that too cliche? Would she think of this as a date? Was it a date? Harry knew he wanted it to be a date, Merlin, did he want it to be a date.

“You’re thinking about it too much, mate.” Ron piped up from his bed.

“But is it a date?” Harry asked, turning to Ron.

Ron shrugged, “Sure it is.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. You’re a bloke, she’s a girl, you guys are going to a Christmas dinner. Yeah, I’d say it’s a date.”

This didn’t help Harry’s nerves, but an idea flashed through his mind as his eyes skimmed over his trunk.

“Maybe I should drink the liquid luck? Get lucky.”

Ron gave him a suggestive look that made his cheeks heat up, “That’s not what I mean. I ju-”

“If you got her to say yes without the stuff, I’d say the hard part is over. Bloody hell, I can't wait until Fred finds out you’re dating Y/n L/n. Can I be the one to tell him?”

Harry was quick to shake his head, “No. Her and I aren’t dating. It’s just one Christmas party.”

Just one Christmas party his arse, Harry thought as he watched Y/n make her way to him from her common room entry. Y/n’s dress was a dark blue, almost black, satin that hugged her body enviously close and fell all the way to the floor. Curves, dips, and assets on tasteful display, yet it was Y/n’s warm smile that made Harry’s hands sweat.

The dress had thin straps holding it up and a straight, slouchy neckline. Y/n had her arms, neck, and most of her chest exposed; she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t bring a cover up in hopes that Harry would offer his jacket.

“Ready to go?” Y/n asked bringing Harry out of scenario number sixty-seven.

Scenario number sixty seven was a personal favorite of Harry’s, just newly sprouted, it consisted of him and Y/n in a dark corridor getting rather familiar.

“Ye-Yeah. You look beautiful, Y/n.” Harry complimented.

It was Y/n’s turn to fumble as she muttered out a thank you, her bashful expression giving Harry enough of a confidence boost to put his arm around her waist to guide her to the party.

Slughorn's party had been in full swing by the time they had arrived, Harry had guided her through the long way in hopes of getting to keep his arm around her waist just that much longer. Y/n, of course, had caught on to Harry’s scenic route but kept it to herself, she had liked being alone with the raven haired boy.

A few of the party goers Y/n recognized, but made no move to go say hi as she was content standing with Harry who had started a conversation with Slughorn. The rest of the party went as such, Harry and Y/n joined at the hip, usually found in whispered conversations in dimly lit corners. Harry had gotten much more confident as the night progressed, conversation with Y/n seemed to flow exceptionally well. He had learned that she was not only insanely attractive but a huge fan of the Holyhead Harpies, loved potions class (regardless of who was teaching it), and she was incredibly witty and dorky. Harry learned that she was absolutely perfect.

“-after that I probably slipped down a good five or six steps and landed right at Umbridge’s feet. She didn’t like that very much.” Y/n laughed, right hand subconsciously going to touch the top of her left.

Harry gave her a look of disbelief catching the movement, “She didn’t set the quill on you for that did she?”

“Yeah, but it’s alright. I’m still here aren't I?” She smiled, hoping to calm the look of worry that had flashed across Harry’s face.

He didn’t respond to her attempt of calming him, instead going to grab her hand. He raised the back of her hand to the light and tried to read the words that were etched into her hand but let out a sound of confusion.

“I can’t read it…” He said more to himself but Y/n heard.

She came out of her haze, brought on by Harry holding her hand so gently and carefully.

“That’s because there’s two sentences overlapping. The first one says ‘I must behave like a lady when in public’ and the second one-”

Harry connected the dots, guilt starting to eat away at his insides as he cut her off, “The D.A.”

“Yeah…” She confirmed, eye avoiding his gaze.

Harry felt all the rage he had felt for Dolores Umbridge returning to his body again, and he swore if he were to ever see that woman again he wouldn’t hold back. Y/n could tell by the way Harry’s grip tightened around her hand, though not tight enough to hurt.

“Hey, it’s alright. If I had known what would happen then, I still would’ve joined.”

She shuddered as she felt Harry’s index finger gently trace over the undecipherable scribbles.

Harry seemed to realize how close they had gotten, and his cheeks burned as his heart rate picked up. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that sounded an awfully lot like Ron telling him to just make a move.

You’re a bloke

She’s a girl

“Harry, you think they’d miss you if we let for a moment?”

He was brought back to reality as he heard the words and he hoped to Merlin he was reading it the way she meant for it to be read. He could feel his cheeks burning as he tried to rack his mind of ways to respond.

“I- you mean like- like get out of here. With me?” His cheeks burned even hotter as he tried to find the right words.

He let an awkward cough slip as Y/n slowly intertwined their hands together, her move was confident but her face had an expression of shyness.

“Well, yeah I was hoping you’d be there.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he stumbled a bit, seemingly knocked back by the suggestion.

“Oh- Yeah, I- uh- brilliant!”

Y/n giggled as she found the awkward boy in front of her incredibly endearing, and she couldn’t help herself as she took a step closer to Harry, face inches from his. She could almost hear him gulp as she looked down at his lips before meeting his eyes. Luckily they had been tucked away in a corner, away from most of the prying eyes of the party.

Harry wasn’t going to reject the new positioning but he also didn’t seem to be able to move to further it along, fortunately he didn’t have to. Y/n brought her hands up to cup his face as she gently brought her lips to his. Harry was kicked into action, his hands sliding around her waist as brought her closer, deepening the kiss. They stayed like that, lips smacking and tongues getting familiar for a few more seconds before Y/n pulled away, chuckling as Harry’s lips trailed after hers for a moment.

“That was...nice. Not like a bad nice, a good nice. A really good ni-”

His jaw was once again grabbed by Y/n, making him swallow his words and look into her eyes as she smiled gently.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Harry, it’s just me.” She said, face lining in to peck him one more time.

He puckered out his lips comically as she pecked him, face still in her hands, but he had no complaints.

“You’re a bit intimidating.” Harry admitted.

“Really? How so?” She humored him.

Harry couldn't help but answer honestly, “You’re beautiful and kinda really...cool.”

They were quick to leave after that, Harry guiding Y/n to a secluded corridor that really only those who had seen the Marauders Map would be aware of. Once far enough into the corridor, Harry pushed Y/n against a cool stone wall. No longer as nervous as before, seeing as it was clear she felt the same, he was the one to initiate the kiss.

It was with slow hands and friendly lips that Harry was finally able to live through scenario number sixty seven, and he couldn’t wait to tell Fred that the real thing was far better than anything you could fantasize about.

And Y/n L/n made her way to her dorm that night, well passed curfew, with Harry’s jacket to keep her warm.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines

450 notes · View notes

yakumtsaki · 3 years

Photo

Welcome, dear readers, to part 1 of the finale to the BackupKingdom2 saga! We’re in our final ambition now, let’s check how Liz’s post-divorce-bloodbath is going..

Oh yes, excellent. Our path to death-achievement-glory has been paved with so many executions that wherever I look I see npcs crying..

..comforting each other..

..and in Agnes' case, coming straight to Liz to.. ask for mercy for the populace I guess?? Bruh. I can't believe we even brought down AGNES, truly this is the saddest kingdom on earth. Amazing job, Liz, you've definitely earned your place in the tyrant hall of fame!

Now a lesser player would be like "oh, maybe we should chill a little on the insane tyrant thing, finish the Pirate/Noble arc cause we've been dragging this war out so the pirates/guildsmen would keep spawning and it should have ended like 20 quests ago" and true, we could just end it, we ran a very effective operation around here, shoutout to MVPs Donius and Bellinda and their 'seductive' legendary traits:

They bedded them and Liz beheaded them, the power of teamwork! So one could say that we should consider raising kingdom morale now because everyone is so depressed but I think, if anything, now is the time to ramp it up and go for some of the other morally questionable achievements! Like Machiavelli said, you should commit all your atrocities at once! What do you think, Liz? Ready to get atrocious?

-OH FUCK YEA, I’M ENRAGED, I DROPPED MY FIDDLE IN THE PIT AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE SERVANT TO GET ME A NEW ONE!! WHY DOES EVERYTHING ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME >:(

Aw I’m sorry Liz, but I’m sure you the upcoming suffering of your subjects will cheer you up!

-Ok motherfuckers, by order of the Crown aka ME -you hear that Rae?? ME, NOT YOU. God I want to execute you so bad, fucking ingrate, do you remember what rags you were wearing when I hired you??

Let’s get this back on track, Liz.

-Right, so by order of the Crown, Magus Olivia and Spymaster Spainot are given COMPLETE LEGAL IMMUNITY to do whatever the fuck they want in the interest of earning achievements, so don’t you people come crying to me cause I don’t give one tiny chinchilla crap about your health and livelihoods. If you need me for something actually important, I'll be at the gates, executing anyone who doesn't like my fiddle playing.

-Oh man, this folksy peasant hat isn’t protecting my ears enough.

-THOUGHT I WOULDN’T HEAR YOUR LITTLE MURMUR, DID YOU -YOUR MAJESTY NO I ONLY MEANT MY EARS WERE COLD -WELL ALL OF YOUR BODY’S ABOUT TO BE COLD NOW! CONSTABLE, THROW THIS PEASANT IN THE PIT

-Death marker? I hardly know 'er!

So the Constable npc has this little Billy Elliot subplot going, I'm pretty sure he has the 'drunkard' fatal flaw because he was always at the tavern so I had Bellinda try to hire him to perform in one of her plays just to see what would happen and it actually worked, and now he moonlights as an actor! It's cute but it also takes forever for him to come arrest people.

-THEY LOVE ME ❤️😁 -CONSTABLE WHATSYOURNAME, COME OVER HERE AND DO YOUR FUCKING JOB OR YOU'RE NEXT FOR THE PIT

-No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, when someone dies😢

In the background you can see that Bellinda just got a pregnancy bump, it’s her lovechild with Donius, I for real can’t keep these two apart. Anyway, the time has come..

..to unleash Magus Olivia onto the populace.

-You know what, I'd rather not, this book is finally getting good and I'm sick of cursing peasants, it doesn't even drop their mood that much..

Oh no, Olivia my beloved, we're not cursing them, we're going for the 'Well Done' achievement!

-NO WAY.

WAY.

-Won't I be executed??

You have immunity! You can do whatever you want!! And, AND, once you complete it, because I know it's tiring, I'll give you a magic skeletal parrot as a gift!! Edward got all the materials for it while treasure-hunting, you'd think I'd let him keep it but that's not the kind of shop I'm running here.

-This is my face of pure, childlike happiness!

Good lord, it’s terrifying, please don’t look at me like that.

-Alright, time to roll down my sleeves so they look more sinister and do this thing.

You can do it, Olivia!

-Of course I can, save your reassurance for the flops that need it.

-I.. cast.. INFERNO!

...

-What?

I mean really, those are the words, "I cast inferno"? Can't you say something with more evil magical flair?

-Not when I have to cast it 80 fucking times I can't.

-IT BURNS, IT BURNSSSSS

Oh how the tables have turned, usually it's the witch that gets burned, huhu! Did you hear that, Olivia? Did you like my joke??

-Oh, it's beautiful!

Well it wasn't one of my best-

-Not you, you needy moron, the sight of burning flesh! I can't wait to do this 79 more times!

Alright, so everyone in the tavern has been turned into a chicken nugget, time to get some rest and check in with Spainot!

-Amazing news, Rodolfo, I just got royal permission to unlawfully lock up and interrogate whoever I want for the achievements!!!

-Darling, no offense, but aren't you a bit too shit at your job for that? -WHAT????

-FUCK YOU RODOLFO YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF MY SUCCESS -I WISH I WAS JEALOUS OF YOUR SUCCESS, THEN YOU'D BE SUCCESSFUL AND I WOULDN'T BE MARRIED TO A BROKE LOSER

-And then he says the only reason he hasn't dumped me is he doesn't wanna be a rando npc while Batshit Liz is on an execution spree, can you believe this bullshit? How can anyone be so hurtful??

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NO NO PLEASE DON'T HAVE THIS CHINCHILLA MAUL ME I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT

-How about you give me some marital advice, are you even listening?! Ugh.

That's right, while Olivia is inferno-ing the peasants, I've sicced Spainot on the nobility, specifically all those foreign diplomats that are always hanging in the reception hall, lagging up the place. We're going for the 100 interrogations achievement and we’ve installed a nice spiky torture chair right in the middle of the hall to save time! Now this is how we keep every stratum of society terrified enough to not realize that the person in charge is.. uh.. well you know:

-DANCE TO MY FIDDLE, PIRATE, DANCE!

-I AM!!!!!

-DANCE MORE ENTHUSIASTICALLY. ALL THE WAY TO THE PIT

After a couple days and several locations I feel we’re pretty close to 80 infernos!

I’d say we’ve burned a good 50-60% of the population at this point, everywhere I look I see singed townies-

-so we take this little barbecue to the palace because we’ve ran out of peasants and it’s time to start burning the foreign dignitaries. And it’s a good thing we do, because Olivia meets Nyrexis the Dragon!!!!

Nyrexis is the human form of the dragon from a hilar quest where there’s a dragon in the kingdom and you can either befriend it or slay it, I had Bellinda befriend it:

So if you complete the befriend route of the quest, the human form of the dragon appears in town and is in love with whoever did the quest, in this case Bellinda. I am of course not about to waste Dragonfu on Bellinda’s basic ass, plus I feel Olivia is kind of a dragon with all the people she’s been burning so they have a lot in common!

We dazzle Dragonfu with a coin trick! True magic at work.

-OMG IT WAS BEHIND MY EAR THE WHOLE TIME -I KNOW!

Good God, all of Olivia’s ‘happy’ expressions are terrifying, just don’t smile ever again, you’re too evil for it, you’re gonna scare the dragon away!

Or not!!!!

AWWWWW 🐲❤️🔮

You know what, fuck it, let’s lock it down, when it’s right it’s right!

-Burn stuff with me forever?? -I WILL!!!!

-We are gathered here today, under threat of fiery death, to join two unholy abominations in holy matrimony. Yes, the irony is not lost on me.

AW CONGRATS GUYS <3333 The wizard tower is so small and family un-friendly and Olivia is so unmaternal but come on, like I’m not gonna have her reproduce with a fucking dragon.

Back to Spainot, we’ve hit a slight bump, mainly that this Snordwich lord is proving fucking impossible to torture.

-Um.. Are you enjoying this??? -Sure am, bad boy, but why don’t we take this somewhere more private already?

Wtf, stop sexually harassing the innocent person who’s torturing you! Does no one around here have any sense of humanity anymore??

-Come on, Spainot, throw some flesh-eating rodents at him! -I’M BUILDING UP TO IT, RAE, GAWD. No one likes a back-seat torturer!

-HA, who’s the loser now, Rodolfo? Rodolfo?? RODOLFO

Ya Spai I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure he left while you were interrogating, I haven’t seen him in like 3 days.

-WHAT. So Olivia completes one achievement and gets a dragon wife and a magic skeletal bird and I complete three and get dumped?!

Well what do you want from me, I don’t make the rules!

-YES YOU DO

Can we move on, please? And Olivia had a very rough go of it-

-she got burned in some rando quest and looked positively karma-stricken after, inferno-ing left and right while sporting this look! She deserves a magic bird!

Congrats on your success and 4 kids, Olivia!

-I love this skeleton bird more than I thought it possible to ever love something.

-Gee, thanks mom.

We had leftover bones so here, Spainot, you get a magic bird too.

-A bone parrot is little comfort when you’ve lost the only bone that matters! Why Rodolfo, whyyyyy!!!!!!!!!

Oh I don’t know, probably because you challenged him to duels 3 times a day?

-No, that can’t be it.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but you look like a man who has nothing to live for?

-Yea, I certainly don’t.

So you wouldn’t mind like, jumping into the pit multiple times so you can get the parts we need for the hardest achievement in game aka Legendary Doomsword?

-Rodolfo had one of those too, it was legendary and now that it’s gone I’m doomed!!!

Ok ya ENOUGH metaphors about Rodolfo’s absent penis, although they really are writing themselves. We’ll get him back! If you survive all the pit jumping that is. Join us next time for part 2: Legendary Doomsword!

#tsm

51 notes · View notes

whitehotharlots · 3 years

Text

A movement that cannot be criticized cannot achieve positive goals

The hardest part of talking about malignant trends on the broad left is that, well, you’re not allowed to talk about them. It’s no exaggeration to say that criticism has become fully conflated with violence. If you attempt to engage critically with a left-liberal writer--regardless of how thorough and respectful you may be, and regardless of how powerful, public, or insulated the subject of the criticism--you will be accused of dismissing and erasing the writer, of inciting violence against the writer, and of committing some form of genocide against whichever identity groups the writer belongs to.

Conversely, if you don’t provide specifics, you’ll be accused of making stuff up. The same people who claim it’s an act of aggression to ask for proof when they make claims of victimization turn into immense pedants the moment they encounter a heterodox opinion.

Unsurprisingly, a discourse milieu in which critical analysis is forbidden is a prime breeding ground for unsustainable (and even horrific) behavioral standards. Never mind improving the world that exists outside their sphere of influence... these people are perpetually on the brink of destroying their allies, their institutions, and themselves.

Today I dug into an especially profane case that highlights both of these points. It’s a matter of public record, so I hopefully won’t get accused of “doxing” anyone for discussing it. It’s also the sort of story where if someone cares about it, they’ll have an opinion of it within a second or two of reading a headline describing what happened. This means it’ll only be of interest to the sort of cranks who read this blog. My goal here isn’t to express outrage or advocate for one side or other--although it is outrageous, and you won’t have to try too hard to see which side I favor. Instead, I’m going to try to move beyond that, to use this instance as a broader cautionary tale in regards to the more horrific tendencies of the identitarian left, and to begin formulating some means of resistance.

In other words, this might get boring. Even more so than usual.

The story involves a court case, documented here, in which a young man named Kieran Bhattacharya is suing the University of Virginia Medical School. Mr. Bhattacharya (a white supremacist name if I’ve ever heard one) was subjected to formal censure, repeated psychological evaluations, suspension, and eventual expulsion. This all happened because he raised some concerns after a White Fragility-inspired panel on microaggressions.

This is one of those cases where both sides are going to assume there’s a lot more going on beneath the surface and, like I said, are going to be disinclined toward actually reading the available evidence. Thankfully, the court brief is fairly exhaustive and--importantly--the account provided in the brief has received the approval of both plaintiff and defendant. To stress, everyone involved in this case agrees, legally, that the account provided herein is an accurate picture of what happened. Additionally, we also have audio of the initial microaggression seminar (Mr. Bhattacharya’s comments start at around the 28:30 mark), as well as of the pursuant committee meeting that ended in his expulsion.

Here is the initial exchange, as documented by the brief:

Bhattacharya: Hello. Thank you for your presentation. I had a few questions just to clarify your definition of microaggressions. Is it a requirement, to be a victim of microaggression, that you are a member of a marginalized group?

Adams: Very good question. And no. And no—

Bhattacharya: But in the definition, it just said you have to be a member of a marginalized group—in the definition you just provided in the last slide. So that’s contradictory.

Adams: What I had there is kind of the generalized definition. In fact, I extend it beyond that. As you see, I extend it to any marginalized group, and sometimes it’s not a marginalized group. There are examples that you would think maybe not fit, such as body size, height, [or] weight. And if that is how you would like to see me expand it, yes, indeed, that’s how I do.

Bhattacharya: Yeah, follow-up question. Exactly how do you define marginalized and who is a marginalized group? Where does that go? I mean, it seems extremely nonspecific.

Adams: And—that’s intentional. That’s intentional to make it more nonspecific . . . .

After the initial exchange, Bhattacharya challenged Adams’s definition of microaggression. He argued against the notion that “the person who is receiving the microaggressions somehow knows the intention of the person who made it,” and he expressed concern that “a microaggression is entirely dependent on how the person who’s receiving it is reacting.” Id. He continued his critique of Adams’s work, saying, “The evidence that you provided—and you said you’ve studied this for years—which is just one anecdotal case—I mean do you have, did you study anything else about microaggressions that you know in the last few years?” Id. After Adams responded to Bhattacharya’s third question, he asked an additional series of questions: “So, again, what is the basis for which you’re going to tell someone that they’ve committed a microaggression? . . . Where are you getting this basis from? How are you studying this, and collecting evidence on this, and making presentations on it?”

You can listen to the audio if you like. There’s nothing there, in my opinion, that is not captured accurately in the written description. Bhattacharya does not yell or raise his voice. He sounds skeptical, but in no way violent or threatening. Nor does Adams, the presenter, signal that she is experiencing anything that approaches fear or trauma.

Immediately after the event, a professor who helped organize the discussion filed a “Professionalism Concern Card”--a cute academic euphemism for a disciplinary write up--against Bhattacharya, alleging he had displayed a troubling lack of respect for differences (the irony here probably does not need to be explicated).

Soon after that--literally still the same day of the panel--Bhattacharya received an email from faculty asking him to “share his thoughts” so as to help him “understand and be able to cope with unintended consequences of conversations.” The tone of the email is polite and professional, but the text hints toward an attempt at entrapment. You’ll see this a lot in woke spaces--invitations to come to an understanding with one another that are, in actuality, attempts to get a person to say something cancellable.

Bhattacharya took the bait, and, well…

During Bhattacharya and Peterson’s one-hour meeting, Peterson “barely mentioned” Bhattacharya’s questions and comments at the panel discussion. Dkt. 33 ¶ 73. Instead, Peterson attempted to determine Bhattacharya’s “views on various social and political issues—including sexual assault, affirmative action, and the election of President Trump.”

At this point, the kid was fucked. He soon after had an uneventful-seeming meeting with a dean. Two weeks after that, a separate panel found him guilty of “patterns of unprofessional behavior and egregious violations of professionalism” and strongly encouraged him to seek psychological counseling.

Pre-Trump, Bhattacharya still probably would have been fine if he had just kept his head down, gone to a couple therapy sessions, and maybe issued an empty apology. Since 2016, however, the rules have changed. An accusation is now absolute proof of guilt and no amount of ablution can save someone in a vulnerable position.

Eleven days after receiving the ostensible suggestion that he receive counseling, Bhattacharya was informed that he would not be permitted to return to classes until he had been evaluated. A day after that--before even having the opportunity to seek the mandated counseling--he was given a mere 3 hours notice before having to attend another disciplinary committee meeting.

This meeting found that Bhattacharya’s continuing behaviors were proof that he posed an imminent danger to the campus community, although the committee did not bother to explain what those behaviors entailed. His behavior was simply noted as “unusual” and this was proof that “Any patient that walked into the room with [Bhattacharya] would be scared.” The following day, Bhattacharya was forcibly removed from campus and told he could not return until he had been screened. He was, subsequently, not allowed to receive sanctioned screening, because of his status of having been removed from campus after being deemed a security risk.

Again, none of what I have described is an exaggeration. None of these details are even being contested.

Now for my own conjecture: the problem isn’t that anyone genuinely believes Bhattacharya poses a threat to anyone’s safety. The problem is that he attempted to question the ideological firmaments of contemporary anti-racist training. These firmaments are protected with aggressive viciousness precisely because they cannot withstand scrutiny. Had Bhattacharya merely scoffed at them, or even if he had been outright condescending and dismissive, he probably would not have received such a severe punishment. The problem was that he was right, and his accusers knew it.

Understanding speech in the manner prescribed by the peddlers of microaggression theory cannot possibly be codified in a way that won't result in arbitrary punishment. Bhattacharya’s experience demonstrates that with horrific irony.

The assertion here is that the intention of a speech act should have no bearing on how we adjudicate the morality of that speech act--such a point was made repeatedly in the initial discussion, and stressed once again after Bhattacharya’s concerns have been raised. This standard contradicts how we've processed the morality of speech for centuries, but that's what people are very explicitly demanding.

How is this workable, when literally any statement could, conceivably, be considered offensive by at least one individual? This, I feel, was the point Bhattacharya reaching toward. If you were to say, I dunno, "I love trees" to a group of 1000 people, 999 of them could regard that statement as benign. But what if one person takes offense to it? What if they work in the lumber industry, or they were molested by guy in a Smokey the Bear costume? What if that person then files a report accusing the tree lover of offensive speech? Will the speaker be disciplined? Or will the powers that be take intention and effect into account?

Of course, we're not going to criminalize all speech in this way. Like all extreme and broad-reaching disciplinary standards, this one will only be selectively evoked in order to punish people with heterodox opinions and/or those whose presence threatens the status quo. Someone who says something much more incendiary, like "all men are rapists" or "white people shouldn't get social security" would not receive a reprimand regardless of how much offense their statements caused, because they're saying something that's acceptable in our current milieu. And right now, the least acceptable speech is that which shines a light on the manifest flaws and hypocrisies of corporate anti racism.

Back to my hypothetical example, if the tree-loving speaker was on good terms with everyone, the complaint would most likely be ignored. But if he had said or done other things that for whatever reason displeased the people in charge, the specious accusation could still ruin him. What's worse, the person who filed the allegation of offense might not have even actually taken offense at the statement--they were just looking for a way to get rid of him.

Bhattacharya was attempting to voice legitimate criticisms about a political movement whose suggestions are functionally unworkable and that, even if it were implemented fully and uncritically, does not contain even a hypothetical explanation in regards to how its goals would result in improved racial equality/equity. Because of that, he was cynically labeled dangerous and expelled from a public university.

You'd think a group that obsesses over power differentials and their own marginalization would have some grasp of this. Regardless of which side you fall into with this particular culture war, it should fucking terrify you that a movement that’s been tasked with addressing pressing social problems is designed in such a way that any substantial criticism is met with aggressive punishment.

There’s no way you can win if this is you is how conduct yourself. This is why we’re losing. This is why even if you get all the censorship and deplatforming you can ever dream of, even if every major bank and multinational corporatation professes fealty to your movement, you will still lose. Because there’s no way you can win.

82 notes · View notes

flying-elliska · 4 years

Text

Skam France Season 6 Review

It’s that time, I guess. My feelings are, like many, mixed. I think I enjoyed the season more than most people here, but the ending was a massive let down. Overall it boils down to this : Skam France is great at moments and very bad at structure. A lot of my issues with the season is what is not in it. I saw so much potential that never quite materialized, and it left me frustrated. At the same time, Lola is a really cool character, her arc is really interesting, her relationship with her sister is one of the best things they’ve ever done, and the actors killed it. Loved La Mif, discovering other sides of Eliott, the urbex backgrounds, and Maya. A lot of fascinating character moments. This is definitely my second favorite season after s3 - at times I even thought it would equal it. Sadly, though, Skam France will remain a bit of a one hit wonder for me. Because they are so good at bringing up problems in a nuanced layering way - be it addiction, grief, eating disorders, internalized ableism, racist microagressions - but when it comes to resolving what they brought up, they default towards a ‘let’s all be nice to each other, hug or kiss, love saves the day yay !’ story. Which is, when you claim to deal with real world issues, simplistic, immature, and at times quite offensive. It works for s3, which is at its core a tale of self-discovery, self-acceptance and romance. But niceness doesn’t solve racism, and family problems aren’t solved with a hug, and addiction recovery doesn’t hinge on having someone to kiss, and the series came dangerously close to implying that at times.

All in all, this is a show that often manages to be both brilliant and terrible at the same time. At least it’s not dull.

Positives/Negatives/Meh breakdown :

Positives :

- Sisterly love : My favorite thing without a doubt is the relationship between Lola and Daphné. Flavie and Lula killed it. Almost all the clips that made me cry were the ones with the both of them in it. At the beginning their rivalry is so relatable to me : the responsible sibling who takes on too much burdens and is too controlling and parentified vs. the problem sibling who acts out to express the issues the rest of the family are repressing - i have been in both of those spots. you can see how they slowly realize that the gap between them didn’t need to be there, that it wasn’t their fault, that it was the result of their parent’s bullshit and even shittier circumstances. seeing them make little gestures to recognize each other’s pain, to nurture each other, to give each other support, but also to tell each other some unpleasant truths, was so incredibly powerful. Relationships between sisters can be just so...complex, and loving, and petty, and jealous, and supportive, and feral, and annoying, and understanding, and ugh, they made me feel all of that and more. I have a sister, and I have a relationship like that with her, and this season gave me some very important perspectives. Really, relationships between women aren’t explored enough, and this season really did this one thing excellently and if only for that, it deserves to be watched. That moment where Lola talks to Daphné about her self destructive tendencies...so important. I am so happy that Daphné was the one finding Lola in her tower of solitude, and the moment where she says ‘you pay too much attention to what other people think, Lola’ was the emotional turning point of the season for me, because it was Daphné recognizing Lola really cared behind her mask of coldness, but also that she was hurt by that and that she needed to love herself regardless of the love her parents didn’t give her ; and also that she heard Lola saying it to her and that it inspired her too, so there is this amazing reciprocity. It was so powerful, I’m still reeling from it. And it was a beautiful full circle from the beginning of the season.

- Family of outsiders : the urbex gang was such a wonderful new group this season. It was bound to be tricky getting us to like this new generation, and I think they did a pretty good job. Even tho I wish we got to know them a bit more, they were all intriguing and interesting on their own, and the vibes of Lamif as a whole were just so fun and lovely. Loved the neuroatypical vibes I got from Sekou and Jo. Love that they introduced a trans guy character. Loved Maya as group mom. And seeing them warm up to Lola was really sweet. The social media of them hanging out was more or less the only good social media we got this season lmao. The urbex thing was a great symbol for Lola finding a home with the outcasts, a bit on the fringe of society, and the start of acceptance, of bringing her in from the cold. Maya and Lola’s relationship fit in that really nicely, especially the bits about them talking about their shared experiences of grief, and my favorite scenes with them is showing Lola that her scars can be beautiful and that her rough experiences are part of who she is. The way she didn’t take Lola’s bullshit was great, and even tho I think their relationship was rushed, overall they really fit well together. Love Maya’s character as a concept in general, this funky purple haired lesbian environmentalist with amazing sense of style, and I really hope we see her again in upcoming seasons. And finally, I also really liked Eliott and Lola’s friendship (except for the ending) - the fact that they understand this darkness that they share, but that Eliott has succeded in climbing over it, and so he can give Lola support, understanding, guidance. I loved that we got to hear a bit more of his perspective on mental illness, the good and the bad times, that we saw his passion for movies become more real. I loved the fact that they bonded over creative things and photography, too, and that she found a safe space in the video store. And even tho it wasn’t resolved properly, the scene where he comes to get her and punches Aymeric really made me cry. Also, BASILE. Best bro in law ever. Their scenes together were so homey and warm and sweet. They will have such a good relationship in time. Overall, I really like how central friendship was in this season, shown as so powerful and important. They could have done more with it but I love a lot of what we got. I am just a sucker for found family, man.

- Lola herself : I know she was a controversial character right from the start. She’s been called manipulative, selfish, out of control, toxic. And honestly at times...maybe she was a bit. I still love her. She is just so interesting to me. The lack of compassion towards her in the fandom was seriously depressing at times, and often felt like a symptom of something I’ve seen in a lot of different fandoms, ie the capacity to only tolerate moral ambiguity when it’s attached to attractive white male characters - and to only tolerate mental illness symptoms when they can be romanticized. In the end, she’s a struggling teen from a deeply dysfunctional family who’s had a very rough life, of course she’s not going to be well adjusted. All in all, I think she’s so brave, and she is a fighter. I adored her feral energies in the trailer. I also really liked her blunt honesty at times, even if it was sometimes hurtful and excessive. I think because I have the opposite tendency to be afraid to speak my mind, I really dig a character who isn’t afraid to speak the ugly truth. Even though, again, ‘the truth’ isn’t always cut and clear, and what Lola is often doing instead is listening to ‘depression voice’ who tells her to believe the worst in people. I find that fascinating, because in my experience, yes, depression comes with this terrible lucidity that makes you see through a lot of bullshit but at the same time, is distorting your perspective because of fear and shame, and kicking that, and disentangling your perception from that fatalism, is very complicated. I loved how genuine she was, how mature too sometimes through the pain, more mature than she should have been. It was rough watching her relapse, but I think the portrayal of addiction was pretty very well done overall, not romanticized and explained in a very coherent way. I wish the show had given her a bit more of a clearer view of her inner thoughts towards the end and let her apologize a bit more. And a clearer realisation that her parent’s lack of well expressed love didn’t doom her. But...yeah Following her really made me question my own - more hidden - self destructive impulses, linked to family shit, that pushes me to sabotage and isolate myself. Like Eliott said to her - it’s really a lifelong struggle. I think overall her arc was pretty satisfying, learning to step away from the edge, letting people in, seeing that she isn’t alone, accepting she deserves better and that her failures don’t doom her. That it is about getting up and trying again. Love her using her mother’s camera and wanting to get a phoenix tattoo, a perfect symbol for her. Also Flavie was amazing, she’s got a bright future ahead.

Negatives :

- No follow up to the assault storyline : The thing that I am, without any single doubt, most mad about, is the fact they didn’t bring up the sexual assault again. Along with Charles’ rape apologism, this creates a very dubious pattern of trivializing the issue ‘as long as it’s not real rape’. The fact that the morning after immediately turns to Elu drama is what sort of started my disconnect from the season, and the fact that they don’t bring it up afterwards even once made me angry. I think Lola, before going back to the hospital, should have told someone about the abuse she endured there, and should have told someone about Aymeric, even if only to acknowledge she wants to be done with that part of her life. Aymeric is like...Lola’s biggest villain, in a sense, he is a horrible predator but he also somehow represents her worst impulses, that part of herself that tells her she doesn’t deserve better, and I think that as a character, he was interesting, and he should have been adressed/exorcised better. If Lola was a real person, of course, she would probably have to deal with this in therapy, down the line, later, but as a story, never adressing this again left it unfinished. And this is really the kind of event you NEED catharsis and resolution for. Otherwise, it’s irresponsible.

- A generally overstuffed and disjointed structure : My biggest problems with this season are about what isn’t and what isn’t it. I liked most of the clips, I don’t have an issue with them going dark, strangely enough, but the way they were put together was just...messy. Like many people have said, too much stuff not properly adressed. Palm of most annoyingly useless subplot, the whole Tiff thing. Yes, it was cool comparing her clique to Lamifex and Lola realizing she wants nothing to do with those shallow fake bitches. Sekou hacking her account to replace it with pigeons, amazing. After that though, it should have been DONE, and in general, it should have taken a lot less time and attention. Comparing Tiff’s social media addiction to Lola’s issues felt like some trivializing bullshit. The whole thing was just so annoying. It would have been good if it had led to some discussion of social inequality but like...not this shit. Char, equally useless (although, cool actress, cool style). Another MASSIVE problem is the lack of follow through on big clips. A great thing about SKAM, usually, is that it shows you the aftermath of big moments - characters lying in bed, cuddling, talk to their friends, crying in the shower, etc. It allows the viewer to breathe and really get into the character’s perspective, to be comforted and process drama, and for the emotions to resonate better, to have space to develop richly. Here...we had Lola brush off her assault, we saw nothing after Daphné got her back from the tower thinking she could have killed herself, we learned that they had money problems and the father didn’t go to work and then that was never adressed again and the light was turned back on by magic (????), we saw Eliott go on a major bender and didn’t really see how he got better, etc. Big lack of introspective clips in the latter part of the season took me out of Lola’s head. It was all stressful and breathless, all intensity and no pause like one grating high pitch note instead of music, it felt oppressive, with poor contrast, and very badly paced. It made everything blur together and feel less relevant. The problem with that is it really takes you out of the story ; it’s hard to care when you know whatever is happening might not have a resolution, and it doesn’t put you in the shoes of the character. This was compounded by how mediocre the social media was, when it is usually used to bridge in the gaps. And then to finish : the structure was so uneven, especially in the second part of the season. Towards the middle we had some very short episodes with very underwhelming endings, and Vendredis that felt like non events, and there wasn’t a lot happening - and then, bam, ep 9, drama overload, almost like misery p*rn, and then a super rushed resolution in ep 10. Like they cared more about twists and giving the opposite of what was expected instead of solid coherent narrative and rhythm. The romantic back and forth felt repetitive as hell too. All in all, it made for a very unsatisfying live watching experience, pretty sure anyone who didn’t watch live would like it a lot more.

- The last two episodes : Really, I could have overlooked all the problems with the season if they had given us a good ending, but...they really really didn’t. And contrasted with last season, where my problems were focused on the middle, for me the ending is really the worst part of this season. I didn’t dislike the controversial club clips, I liked having the insight into Eliott’s insecurities, but they should never have brought those up if they weren’t going to let him adress them properly. Having everything go to shit in Lola’s life at once felt like overkill - they really should have solved those problems earlier, and then dealt with a few ones properly, showed us Lola freaking out on her own, and taken out the bullshit at the high school. Thierry slapping her was also too much, he could just have said these clumsy things. She could have distanced herself from Maya instead of pushing her away again. Also, they really should have had this happen in episode 8 again, and given us a proper resolution. While the tower sequence was incredibly powerful, I pretty much liked nothing after that. It was so annoying that Eliott brushed off Lola’s apology because while he wasn’t wrong that he decided to get drunk himself, she still needed to apologize and actually state that she wanted to get better so she didn’t hurt her friends, so as a resolution it was very mediocre. Thierry recognizing they should have given Lola the choice to go the hospital was a step but really not enough. And the moments with Maya were cute sure but mostly cheesy and unearned. Same for the ending clip. Mostly it’s such an unsatisfying farewell to the old generation, and it really feels like they wanted us to force to move on - didn’t want to properly recognize the end of an era, gave us almost nothing about their BAC or their future plans, etc etc. Also, letting Charles talk and having Arthur and Alexia kiss again ? SO BAD. UGH. I will be forever disappointed they didn’t give us a Multi POV or at least sth better on social media. And not having Eliott’s POV or at least a real Elu conversation (pretty much all season...) so frustrating I will never not be bitter about that. So yeah. The season started so powerfully but went out with a whimper instead of a bang. That whole ‘romantic love solves everything!!!’ shtick...very undercooked tbh.

Meh :

- Mayla’s development : I wanted to stan them SO BAD. Like, wlw in skam (that doesn’t turn into a panphobic mess?) YES, all the way yes. Maya and Lola had great chemistry, great dynamic. I loved their first few clips, the kind of confrontational flirting, the boldness, it was like...damn girls ! we love a non useless lesbian ! But...somewhere along the way, their relationship really suffered from the wacky plot structure. They should have shown us more bonding before we got to the angsting (esp during first urbex night). Also, their first kiss was sweet but I hated the ‘you’re my addiction’ line and that kind of put a damper on it. I liked the scenes where they open up about difficult things, the love Maya showed to Lola’s scars, the dandelion symbolism was lovely, but it wasn’t balanced enough with other stuff, and I felt Maya was way too stoic at times. And I really, really didn’t like the ending, honestly. They kept a good balance all season showing Lola wasn’t relying entirely on romantic love, that her family and friends were also important - but saying ‘i’m okay as long as you’re here’ at the end...honestly that sounds unhealthy and codependent as fuck. I really wish they’d done a more subtle, taking it slow ending for them.

- The financial issues : Again a storyline with much potential that wasn’t dealt with properly. It’s really good that we got a main that wasn’t from an economically priviledged background. Especially it felt very relevant to Daphné’s storyline, with the shame she felt at her friends seeing her place, the pressure to make it work, tying into her ED, etc etc. But cutting off the power, the father not working going nowhere...it’s like the plotline meandered and then vanished into thin air. Instead of that, they could have given us a scene of Daphné freaking out over the bills like in OG w Vilde, keeping the focus on her for that plot because she’s the most affected ; and then in the end of the season the father taking them over from her and telling her he’s found another job and that those things shouldn’t be her responsibility. That would have been relevant, instead of just...a loose end.

- Family issues : The Lecomte family dynamic seemed fascinating to me at the start. The mom being this shadowy complicated figure. The inability of the father to deal with anything. Daphné being parentified, Lola becoming the symptom child. They could have done a lot with this, but in the end, it felt like it was brushed aside too easily by saying the mom sent letters so she wasn’t too bad and Thierry is making breakfast so he’s trying. Not enough. I wanted them to let Lola acknowledge she deserved better and that their parent’s crap wasn’t on her. That her mom should have looked for help and the other two shouldn’t have pretended everything was okay. In general, there is way too much pressure to overlook toxic parent behavior and I wish they’d been clearer about this.

- Mental health portrayal : Some parts of it were really good. Showing Daphné’s ED, letting Eliott talk about his episodes and relapses, showing some of the dark sides of depression and addiction. They just needed to show more of the recovery, because that is often the representation that they lacked the most. I don’t blame them for showing the bad sides of the mental healhcare system (which is terribly outdated and dysfunctional in France, I’m speaking from experience) but they should have shown the good too. Like do they find recovery boring or something ? Because as a person w MI, that’s actually what I’m dying to see, and they’ve been a real letdown in that department. I also think they should have acknowledged that the Lecomte family has mental issues as a whole, that the mother should have gotten help, and the father probably needs it too (still think they should have gone to therapy as a group lol).

- Elu and Eliott’s development : Honestly, not a big fan of how they wrote Lucas in s5&s6, in a lot of clips he was the angry guy with a temper, I miss s4 Lucas who was so compassionate and showed real growth and emotional intelligence. Here it just felt like they were fitting his character to plot needs, and it’s so sad for a character who had such an amazing story development. Now, I loved the glimpses of domestic Elu we got, how Axel and Maxence really showed the intimacy that had grown between them, they really felt married with all the nonverbal conversations and touches, that was sweet. But it’s so annoying that they hinted at Lucas’s insecurities and Eliott’s lack of communications and just brushed it away with ‘oh they love each other they will be okay’ sure bitch but then show us how ? that’s the interesting stuff ? it really feels sometimes like the writer(s) didn’t like how strongly the fans focused on the romance when they wanted to be talking about MATURE dark stuff not that frilly fluffy romance shit *eyeroll* male writers who think they’re above that stuff is so annoying as is the conflating of dark and mature - anyway. Again I liked seeing Eliott in his element this season, he is really thriving, with his movie and the video store, and that made me very happy. I don’t think it’s unrealistic he didn’t make a lot of friends in uni - French university can be so isolating, there isn’t a campus or a vibrant social life like in the US, it’s a very common experience to feel lost and isolated for newbies and it was also my case - but ? Sofiane ? Idriss ??? They could have found a better excuse to implicate Lamifex in the movie making tbh, like Jo egging him on about her passion for directing or whatever, and Sofiane could have been there chilling with them it would have been so cool. I just wish Eliott would have had more of an arc like Daphné did. It wouldn’t have taken much, and since he is my favorite character, I will never not be disappointed at all the wasted potential.

Yeah so in the end i think this was a very good story they didn’t entirely give themselves the right storytelling tools to tell. Like there is something in the way they prioritize certain moments over others that...I just find very frustrating and weird. So...flawed, but still very interesting overall.

#skam france #skamfr s6 #lola lecomte #mayla

103 notes · View notes

a-duck-with-a-book · 3 years

Text

REVIEW // Seven Blades in Black (The Grave of Empires #1) by Sam Sykes

★☆☆☆☆

Disclaimer: while I was reading this book, I found out that Sam Sykes has been accused by numerous women of sexual harassment. You can find more information about it below: - a post listing several accusations of misconduct - twitter post responding to the situation - one of the accusations against Sam Sykes - his quickly-deleted apology Suffice to say, I have no intention of continuing this series or reading any more of his books.

I have a lot to say about this novel, so I’ll begin by making a quick bullet point list outlining what I liked and disliked:

Liked:

Cavric <3

Lisette deserved better

Some interesting concepts in the world building

Disliked:

Sal as a narrator

Sal as an antihero

Sal as a person in general

Writing style

Constant interruptions

Meandering narrative

The “narrator knows something but the writer avoids revealing it until the end for the drama” trope

This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy

Lesbians written by a man who harasses women

Unnecessarily long

// image: official cover art Jeremy Wilson //

Let’s begin with the full review by starting with the (few) positives, shall we?

First and foremost, I genuinely enjoyed Cavric and Lisette. It is unfortunate that they had to deal with Sal for the entirety of the novel, but we’ll get to her later. If this book had been a buddy adventure with these two, in which Cavric slowly shows Lisette that she is in a toxic relationships and deserves to move on and find someone better for herself, I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more. Secondly (and finally), Sykes introduced some genuinely interesting world building. The background of the Empire and the Scar was fascinating to read, but unfortunately did not save the rest of this mess.

Alright now let’s rant.

I have 35 notes and 52 highlights from this book, so this might get block quote heavy. (Go check out my notes if you want to see me slowly lose my sanity)

Sal is awful. I know she’s meant to be awful, but she’s not flawed in the way that I think Sykes was trying to write her. I believe she was intended to be a scruffy, lovable antihero who fought her way through a dangerous landscape with her sharp blade and even sharper tongue. A girl who had wrongs committed against her in the past, who did terrible things but is now on the road to an epic redemption arc. She shoots bad guys, she says f*ck and a*s a lot, and she is morally complex. That’s the character that Sykes was trying to make. The one he created, however, is a genuinely terrible person who I had no desire to see come out on top. I have a myriad of issues with her, but let’s outline a couple below: (1) She is incredibly toxic for Lisette. Am I getting a bit too heated about a fictional relationship? Sure. Was I happy to read a toxic lesbian romance written by a man who sexually harasses women? Nope. It kind of grossed me out, actually. Anyway, let me give you a run down of their relationship. Sal arrives. Sal and Lisette sleep together. Sal asks Lisette to give her weapons and or fix things for her. Sal sneaks away, telling herself no good will come of this relationship and they will only cause each other pain. Sal needs something. Sal comes back. Repeat over and over. She constantly says, throughout the book, that it would be better if they just left each other, but then again Sal is the one who goes back to Lisette over and over, causing her renewed heartbreak. I don’t know if Sykes thought that simply making Sal aware of how terrible this behavior was was enough, but it just made me incredibly frustrated. At one point Sal says:

”Intellect like hers is a curse. The more you understand of the world, the less of it you trust.”

Yes, Sal, that’s what’s giving her trust issues. Her intelligence. Nice. By the end of the book, it seems that they are on the mend-I’m getting end-game vibes from these two. But honestly, I spent the entire time thinking that Lisette deserved so much better than Sal. Like literally a chicken would have provided healthier companionship. I’ll end with this quote, in which Lisette outlines perfectly why Sal does not deserve her:

“What am I doing wrong that you’d choose this over me?”

(2) Sal is annoying. Really, really annoying. I kid you not, half of this book is made up of Sal’s snarky comments. She is badass. She has a gun. She is an outlaw. And she will never, EVER shut up about it. Imagine a quirky line after an otherwise dark or action-packed sequence. Funny, right? Might break the tension, make the narrator more endearing, etc. Now imagine one such line after every. Single. Paragraph. Picture a violent battle scene where the protagonist is fighting for their lives against a ruthless opponent. Now insert a snarky comment after every other paragraph and watch the entire flow of the scene fall apart with constant interruptions. That’s what this book is-which brings me to my next point.

The writing isn’t great. There are constant interruptions, meandering narratives, and the trope that haunts me in nearly every dark fantasy novel I read-This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy-is shoved repeatedly in your face. Let’s start with the interruptions, returning to my previous point (ie. Sal never shuts up), by looking at this sequence:

I followed the shrieking wind. I had come here prepared for something bad. But I wasn’t prepared for just how bad it was. I rounded the corner of the hall, came out atop a battlement. The wind struck me with a screaming gale, forcing me to shield my face and cling to the stone for purchase. My eyes squinted against the harshness of the light, the kind of offensive pale you only see in your nightmares. And through them, I could see the bowed shapes of towers sagging, the flayed flesh of banners whipping in a wind that wouldn’t cease, the shadows of figures frozen in a death that had brought no peace. And I knew where I was. There was nothing that had ever made Fort Dogsjaw special. It had never been crucial for defense, never a hub for trade, it hadn’t even been named for anything special—the commander just liked the sound of it. It lived its whole life a regular, boring Imperial fort on the edge of the Husks. It only got important at the time of its death. Over three hundred mages and a few thousand regulars had assembled here in one day—some to receive assignments, some to man the garrison, some to head back to Cathama on leave. They had been laughing, cursing, drinking when the news came that the new Emperor of Cathama was a nul, born with no magic. And then there had been a moment of silence.

I’ve bolded for emphasis, but do you see what I’m talking about? The paragraph-line-paragraph-line format is so annoying to read, I had to put the book down at certain points because of how frustrated I got. It interrupted the forward movement of the story, making the novel drag on and on.

You know what else makes this feel like the nightmare version of the Never-ending Story? The page count. I don’t mind long books-The Priory of the Orange Tree is one of my favorite reads so far this year, and it’s longer than this one-but they have to have a reason for being so hefty. As I mentioned earlier, a considerable chunk of Seven Blades of Black is Sal making her awful, awful, AWFUL asides. I literally cannot express how much I despise those comments. Okay, let’s move on before I get hung up on THOSE STUPID COM-*cough*

This novel is marred by unnecessary lines and a meandering plot that drag out the story. One instance is the amount of times that Sal is a second away from killing someone and, for some reason (usually not a good one), fails in her goal. She places a gun at someone’s head and goes through a whole monologue in her head until the person miraculously escapes. This type of subversion of expectations is fine every once in a while, but if you are going to build up to a crucial moment and then take away the satisfaction of the defeat of some villain (or mini-boss, as many of the antagonists in this book feel like), then you need to have a good reason for doing it upwards of twenty times in ONE BOOK. Secondly, if you spend almost the entire novel setting up more and more villains and stressing how hard they are to kill and how dangerous their powers are (and presenting them separately and isolated), then when you have them all in one place at the end, at which point the protagonists starts going through them like a plate of french fries at a seagull convention, then you’re kind of taking away the satisfaction of the death. Somehow, this book manages to do both. We are constantly teased with almost-kills, then at the end Sal just blows through everyone in five seconds, easy-peasy.

I’m almost done, I swear-just two more gripes.

So much of the tension of this book rests on the fact that Sal, our narrator and our main viewpoint into the story, knows something that we don’t. I’ll be upfront with you-I hate this trope. If our POV character, the one whose mind we are in constantly, is entirely aware of something that happened before the beginning of the novel, and the author keeps from revealing that something for the entirety of the story solely to add drama, then I will not be a happy reader. Where is the logic. We are in this person’s mind. Just show us already and add tension ELSEWHERE.

And FINALLY (as painful as it was for you to read this, it was worse for me to write it), another issue I have with a lot of dark fantasy (see my review of Nevernight) is that the author really, really wants us to know that this is an incredibly dangerous and dark world by filling it to the brim with edge lord narrators, Big Guns, and, usually, women being harrased-because why not force all your female readers to constantly have to read about women getting assaulted? Apart from Sal’s 300,000 comments explaining to us that she is an asshole, that the Scar is Dangerous, and that she has Killed A Lot of People, we as readers must sit through hundreds of lines of dialogue and exposition that beat us over the head with the fact that this is DARK fantasy. This isn’t your nice little fairy adventure-no sir. Here we have Swear Words and Violence and Men writing Queer Women. To emphasize just how blatant Sykes is with the dark part of dark fantasy, let me tell you about an exchange Sal has with three old ladies who run a criminal empire. In the 2-3 pages that these women appear in, we are told, in some form or other, that they are grandmas who kill people, a grand total of, I kid you not, ELEVEN TIMES. Here are some excerpts from that whole situation:

”“Now, now.” Yoc, old and white haired and sweet as a grandmother—if that grandmother also had people killed on the regular—smiled at me. “I’m sure she has a good reason for being here.” She raised the hand that had signed the contracts that had killed a thousand men and women and took up her whiskey glass. “After all, I’m sure she knows how much we don’t like having our game interrupted.”” *I counted this as one since it’s in the same exchange but technically he mentions it TWICE

”…one didn’t waste the Three’s time if one didn’t want to end up with their teeth pried out.”

”How often do you meet the three old ladies who have people killed for money?”

”I said we should kill her on principle.”

”“But you know how many orphans I’ve made, don’t you, dear?””

”“He’s not so unlike us, is he? A murderer, yes. A monster to some. But, at his heart, a businessman.”

”Theirs were the hands that signed a thousand death contracts a year.”

”When they could be bothered to look up from their game, they decided who lived and died with a stroke of their pen.”

”At a word, they could have me stripped, tied, tortured, and cut up…”

”the Three don’t lie. Their assassins do. Their thieves do. But they don’t.”

”I had already wasted their time and I knew the Three were being generous just letting me fuck off instead of having me killed for the effort.”

TL;DR - Sal is annoying, Sykes is a bad writer, and Someone should have stopped me from reading this book

2 notes · View notes

manesh · 4 years

Text

Circumcision is a Hate Crime

Circumcision is a Hate Crime, and it has to stop

A plea to circumcised fathers who might circumcise their sons

Why circumcised men should have mercy on themselves and their sons

Dedicated to my grandfather, who listened when he was ignorant, and taught when he was knowledgeable.

Book Outline:

1. My temptation to commit retaliatory crimes of hate

2. Circumcised men, It’s ok to have some pity on yourself

3. Hope for restoring sexual function & comfort

4. Benefits of being uncircumcised / restored / uncut

5. My memory of circumcision

6. The Book of Michael Asad Manesh

7. Genital mutilation is the worst hate crime, worse than rape and murder

8. Nuance & Errata

9. My Final Plea to Circumcised Fathers

10. A Thank You to Fathers who Choose to Protect Children

11. Afterword & Acknowledgements

1. My temptation to commit retaliatory crimes of hate

I can state, unequivocally, I hate my birth parents. They were cruel and abusive towards me all of my life, starting in my earliest days when they removed a large piece of my penis, leaving me with permanent sexual dysfunction and decades of pain and suffering. Of all the abuses inflicted on me by my parents, the mutilation of my penis was the worst and most permanent. This permanent disfigurement of my penis is called “circumcision.”

I have spent many years wrestling with my own rage, with poor sex education, coping and communication skills to express it. Any pain I communicated about my penis, both to my parents and doctors, was laughed at, mocked, and rejected.

Once, when I pointed out painful callouses that had formed on the underside of my glans due to no protective foreskin, a female nurse practitioner lied and said “all men are like that” while laughing mockingly at me. What a bitch. I still think about cutting a piece of her clitoris off, sometimes - she is on my long list of people I often consider mutilating to make them understand my pain, who were supposed to heal me but only harmed me with their hurtful lies and complete disregard for my expressions of pain.

I was born in a hateful society that oozes contempt for males who have suffered permanent genital disfigurement at the hands of their own parents.

When I was a child, I spent many hours tugging on my penis, unsuccessfully trying to regrow the missing foreskin. I would endlessly try to prod the glans, the head of my penis, back into my body, because it always felt too exposed, cold, and irritated. My parents slapped, pinched, belted and screamed at me to make me stop trying to heal my penis with tugging, telling me I was the worst child who ever lived, a literal demon.

I did not consciously understand that I had been cruelly and wickedly mutilated due to my parents’ wishes until I was 30 - I was ignorant that there was such a thing as an uncircumcised male until then. I had been kept sexually dumb by my wicked mother and father, who fed me a constant and poisonous stream of lies and misinformation, and a wicked government, that censors all information about the harms of circumcision, and images of penises, both cut and uncut, from airing on TV.

I have l lived all my life with constant, low-level rage at my mistreatment, at the permanent disfigurement I have suffered.

I have endless rage at the government of the United States, its doctors that carried out the mutilation on me, and the legal system that protects parents from revenge mutilation, but allows them to cruelly mutilate their sons in an act of pure hate - a one way system where children have no protection or recourse. A system that in 2020 drove children to record highs of suicide. A system that doesn’t even recognize the right of boys to retaliate against those who mutilate their genitals.

Of all the offenses and crimes against children, I judge mutilation the most torturous, because it is a disfigurement that one carries for the rest of their life, even if they should escape the hell of their parents and the country from which the brutal practice is allowed.

But after years of considering shooting, bombing, or mutilating in morally justifiable revenge, I have been lucky to have had enough time, safety and space to come up with a better solution than retaliatory violence.

It is my goal to persuade every human on earth that circumcising an infant boy or child is a hate crime, and a sex crime.

I am starting with adult males like me, who are circumcised, and may be considering circumcising their sons.

I admit it is mostly my hate that drives me to do this, but I have channeled that hate into the primary goal of protecting children from mutilation, and I will do that by convincing every man circumcised as a child that what was done to him was a hate crime, and a sex crime.

Fathers, before you mutilate the penises of your sons as your penis was mutilated, read this book and allow me to convince you that you suffered grievous harm, and you should not pay that harm forward to your sons.

2. Circumcised men, It’s ok to have some pity on yourself

If you were circumcised without your input or consent: have some pity on yourself. You were helpless, and defenseless. The adults that were supposed to protect you let you down. They failed you.

It is truly sad what happened to you. Ask any man- where is he most sensitive? Where does he feel the most pleasure and pain? His penis. Your most fun, enjoyable part, with the most ability to give you sexual pleasure and orgasm - much of it was cut from you in an act of pure hate, meant to sexually disfigure you and render you unable to fully enjoy an erection, masturbation, and sex.

Most men in the world do not have their genitals mutilated by their parents; you are in the unlucky minority with cruel parents that wanted to cripple your ability to experience sexual pleasure.

This is absolutely horrific, the behavior a slavedriver inflicts on his property. You have not only suffered sexual dysfunction, but extreme psychological abuse from those who tell you your mutilation was for your benefit. You have been told endlessly that circumcision makes you “clean” and “prevents infection” and “it has no negative impact on sex”, and these lies make your suffering all the worse, because it was never acknowledged by the hateful sex criminals that cut you.

If you have suffered the injury of circumcision, and then pushed the pain and irritation out of conscious awareness and stopped mentioning it because even your parents and doctors mock you and call you a liar - that is a truly sad and lonely story. It breaks my heart that you could have so much suffering, so much pain, and no one to help you heal from it.

It is ok to say to yourself, “you know what? It was terrible what happened to me. I deserve a bit of sympathy and pity. My tribe, my parents and government, failed me. The permanent pain and disfigurement I have suffered was a truly wicked thing to inflict on me as an innocent child, and I didn’t deserve it.”

As a circumcised male, you deserve compassion.

It is my hope that once you learn to feel compassion for yourself and your own sexual wounds, you will learn to extend that compassion to your sons, and not repeat the act of sexually wounding them.

3. Hope for restoring sexual function & comfort

The foreskin can be restored through tugging - simply pulling hard on the skin of the penis near the head, and slowly stretching the skin out. Topical steroids may help. The process can take months or years.

It is a slow and slightly painful process, but the end result can be a penis that looks and feels much more like it would have if it was never cut in the first place, with better resting comfort, and better sexual/erect performance.

Tugging can be done manually, or with prosthetics (straps/weights that apply constant tugging).

4. Benefits of being uncircumcised / restored / uncut

When I saw an uncut penis for the first time, I was confused at first. But as I became sexually educated, I felt angrier and angrier about how some criminally insane people say circumcision is somehow “beneficial to males.”

A penis with a foreskin doesn’t hurt all the time. Once you restore yours with tugging, even partially, you will be more comfortable when non-erect. Covering the glans, especially the base of the glans, is a significant comfort improvement. For me personally, the first few millimeters regrown got rid of the callouses that used to form around the base of my glans, and most of the pain/tearing I would experience from erections, masturbation and sex.

A penis with a foreskin is better in every way for sex. Erections are not painful when there is enough skin to stretch. Significantly less lubrication is needed for sex because the foreskin adds just enough “give”. Masturbation can be performed painlessly without lubricant. Vaginal sex can be given with no or low lubricant, and will not rip or injure the vagina as a calloused, circumcised penis can - with no tearing, there should be less chance of infection. Anal sex, which many females enjoy, can also be more easily given with a whole and complete penis.

I have observed that women have a natural instinct to grab the excited penis, and gently pull downwards on it to reveal the glans. They do this regardless of whether the penis is circumcised or not. For a circumcised penis, this motion causes extreme pain. For a whole penis, this motion causes extreme pleasure.

It is no wonder to me that so many women in this society are frustrated with the sexual performance of circumcised men, because their natural, instinctive ways of sexually pleasing men instead hurt circumcised men.

Circumcision also reduces the size of the penis in an absolute sense. To have a mutilated penis is to not be able to compete in terms of penis size with an uncut man, who is otherwise similar in build. In a societal sense, this means that women with the biggest vaginas may never be able to find a penis that fits them properly, because all penises have been cut down to an unnaturally smaller size, which is tragic for those women. It also means circumcised men will need a smaller/younger mate than he naturally would for her vagina to fit & pleasure his smaller penis properly.

A man with a mutilated penis will also struggle at sports and battle due to increased discomfort and pain when running and have a weaker sex drive. He will have a difficult time competing with males who have a complete penis. He will lose more often at mating games as is more likely to have infrequent, unsatisfying sex. He is likely to avoid women entirely - this was my personal strategy to avoid discomfort for most of my life. He may be mislabeled as gay, asexual, or transgender, with no reference to his penis mutilation.

This is why I say circumcision is a sexual crime in addition to a hate crime. A parent that chooses to make sex acts hellacious by circumcising their child is guilty of sex crimes and hate crimes against their child for this reason.

It is obvious and clear to me now that the primary purpose of circumcision is to destroy a man’s ability to enjoy sex. Uncircumcised males have better sexual performance and pleasure, and females display more appreciation and comfort when having sex with uncut penises.

If you doubt this, you can easily do your own research by watching porn with an eye for circumcision, male performance and female pleasure. Circumcised men often display pain on their faces in pornography that is uncharacteristic of uncircumcised men; much porn tries to hide this by not displaying male faces.

5. My memory of circumcision

I have an extremely clear memory of my own circumcision, which I have suffered flashbacks to all my life.

Normally, local anesthetic is used for circumcisions in the US. Even so, I have an unusual genetic tolerance and require a triple dose to get a numbing effect, a fact I learned when I was 29 at an elective surgery.

I did not know this or have the ability to communicate it when I was an infant. I was bound to a cold table like a lump of meat, and what felt like half my penis was sawed off. It is the worst pain I have ever felt - words cannot even begin to describe it. I had constant nightmares about it for 36 years, almost my whole life. Any sensation on my penis could make me feel intense fear and a pinching, sawing sensation - a flashback to the procedure.

I am blessed in a way, because deep down, I have always known what was done to me was a cruelty. If you were unfortunate enough to be completely numb for the procedure, there is a possibility it would not make a strong, traumatic impression on you as it did me.

A child will explore and play with his body in the first few days of life. If he has a chance to see, feel and understand his foreskin, then even if numbed when it is removed, he will always know what he has lost. This is why hate criminals try to mutilate the genitals immediately after the child is born, so that he will not have a clear, visual and hand-tactile memory of what he has lost. Instead, he will have constant and seemingly inexplicable pain, a feeling of betrayal, and no chance to grieve for what he has lost. Only when one sees, admits and acknowledges what they have lost and grieves for it can they begin the process of psychological healing, which will free him from psychological enslavement to those who mutilated him and thus do not deserve his loyalty.

I used to be unconsciously triggered by fluorescent lights, the beeping of medical equipment, and doctors’ offices until I learned about circumcision and PTSD triggers, watched a video of a circumcision and understood that I was flashing back to my own.

I used to do any form of self-harm to try to avoid flashbacks to the experience of having half my dick sawed off - the slightest sensation or pressure on my oversensitive, exposed glans could cause me to go into a dissociative trance. So I would fracture my bones, pull out my hair, bite my fingernails until they bled, and twist my body into uncomfortable postures that would rip and strain muscles and leave them aching for hours. I would dive into workaholism, endlessly watch tv, play video games, overdose on drugs, masturbate excessively even though it hurt, or otherwise numb and dissociate myself out with distractions.

The pain of bloody, clipped-too-deep toenails was always better than a reminder of the pain of getting my dick sawed in half.

But now that I’ve been able to view my full memory, this is what I remember feeling in the moments after the intense, torturous pain of my penis being sawed off stopped and was replaced with a stinging & burning, lasting pain that wouldn’t go away:

WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?

IT HURTS SO BAD, OH GOD IT HURTS SO BAD, OH GOD IT HURTS SO BAD, OH GOD IT HURRRSSS SOOOO BAD...

PLEASE SAVE ME... PLEASE SAVE ME... PLEASE MAKE THE PAIN STOP... IT HURTS SO BAD... I WANT TO DIE

OH GOD IT HURTS SO MUCH... THIS IS HELL... THIS IS HELL.... THIS IS HELL...

I have never stopped thinking that my life is hell since, and even now while writing this book aged 36 with some but not all of my foreskin restored through tugging, I am still aware and annoyed by the feeling of my exposed glans, which feels cold and painful.

I no longer think that all life is hell, but my childhood, and my life, was a hell until I turned my back on humanity and found God.

6. The Book of Michael Asad Manesh

Consider this a book of a prophet, which should be added to all religious texts as the last testament and will of God.

I have listened to God, at length, and directly. I recognize no mortal as above me - I answer only to God.

The greatest sin there is, the sin that is worse than all others, is to mutilate your own child. If you choose to mutilate your children, you have failed your God-given morality test, and you will be cast into a hell of suffering that you will carry with you in your soul no matter how far you run.

God is a compassionate being, who wishes to teach us the lessons of morality as gently as possible. One cannot be given eternal life unless they have proven they will not misuse that power to create a hell of endless suffering for others.

To mutilate a child is to give him a body on earth that is a hell of suffering wherever he goes. He cannot outrun the disfigurement you have inflicted on him in your cruelty. You have created hell for him; you have failed God’s morality test. You have been given a conscience that knows what I speak is true, but have chosen not to use it.

God will not send an Angel to stop you from sin, because the Angel is within you, as near as the beating of your heart, if you but listen to its voice: your conscience.

If you refuse to repent of your sin of mutilating your child, or if you choose to mutilate another child knowing it goes against God’s will, as I have prophesied, then your existence will be a hell until you repent, because your own children will hate you, and inflict as much torture on you as possible, as you did to them. Even if you kill your children and hide in a cave, your conscience will torture you.

God is merciful, and will allow you to remain alive in hell for as long as you choose to show your children cruelty. If you wish to escape hell, you must choose to show your subordinates mercy and patience, as God has shown you and I mercy and patience.

This is the law of God: you will use the power you have been gifted with only to carry out the highest and best moral good: the protection and education of those in your care. If you refuse your responsibility, you will suffer the pains of hell.

God has a message for fathers: it is unquestionable that men have the strength, and therefore power, to protect children. Women do not have the same strength, and God does not judge women and men equally for this reason. Because men have more power, men have more responsibility in the eyes of God. Do not deny this obvious truth: You must protect a newborn when a woman is weak from birth!

I have written these truths not to punish you - but to explain to you exactly why your God-given conscience punishes you when you harm your children or allow them to come to harm through inaction.

There is a hierarchy of morality in the universe, and only those who have consciously chosen the highest and best moral path shall be gifted the alliance of God.

Thou shalt protect thy children is the highest and most important commandment of God.

There is one final thing I must say about God, as myself: when God was born, just like when a child is born on Earth, God was ignorant, and lonely. Creation of other-souls was an attempt to solve that terrible loneliness God felt as a singular consciousness in an endless, empty universe. Thus, the most divine of emotions is loneliness, it is to be one with God, it is the reason for creation, and that which brings us together and lets us compromise when necessary in spite of the pain of sharing power. It is our God-given loneliness that inspires us to make the world less lonely for each child that should follow. If you should follow your loneliness, you will inevitably arrive at LOVE, which is the combination of: RESPECT, EQUALITY, MERCY, COMPASSION.

7. Genital mutilation is the worst hate crime, worse than rape and murder

Circumcision has always been a crime of hate, used to punish one’s enemies. For a man to mutilate the penis of another man is to inflict the ultimate suffering on him. To inflict the ultimate suffering on an innocent child you were supposed to protect and nurture is the ultimate hate crime.

Rape is less of a crime than genital mutilation. In an absolute sense of which suffering is greater, those who have suffered from rape - a temporary loss of control and discomfort with their genitals - have suffered less those left with permanent discomfort from mutilation of their genitals. This is not to say that rape is a moral good, it is only to say mutilating genitals is worse than temporarily torturing them.

Murder is less of a crime than genital mutilation. A man who can no longer enjoy sex due to his mutilation lives a hellacious life, deprived of his greatest pleasure. I myself have often hoped for death, wishing to leave this broken body, but my conscience will not allow me to die until I speak for the children who cannot speak for themselves, who might still be saved from suffering needlessly as I have suffered. You do not need to mutilate a child to teach him not to mutilate others. The most force you will ever need to use with a child you properly respect to is a firm but gentle push and a word of advice; he will listen if he knows his body is protected by you.

If hatred of evil is your strongest trait, let this truth be your guide: Murderers and rapists are better souls than the scum that mutilate children at birth, never giving them a single chance to enjoy their whole and complete bodies. They are the worst of the worst, the most depraved and morally misguided souls on planet earth, the farthest it is possible to travel from God. Child mutilators deserve the lowest levels of hell, the worst prisons, and the harshest degree of shaming.

Do not be distracted by misdirections or minimizations about the harm done by child mutilation. Do not be distracted by friendly, bright-colored illustrations, when you know how painful it would be to have parts of your penis cut off, and how much you would miss those parts every day. Do not be fooled by those who say rapists and killers are worse.

Child mutilators are the worst people on planet earth, and some of the worst souls in all existence. They are guilty of hate crimes, and sex crimes. Child mutilators have sinned against God by using their power to torture and enslave children, rather than protect and educate them.

I encourage all souls on planet earth of any age to join me in the condemnation of the mutilation of children, including circumcision of both genders.

8. Nuance & Errata

I am not against adult circumcision for reasons of improving sexual performance & male pleasure. If your penis has too much skin, and you have had enough attempts at sex to know this for certain or other problems, you have my blessing to choose to cut off a small and specific amount you know will help you.

Anytime I say circumcision is a hate & sex crime, I am referring to the forced removal of parts a boy’s penis before reaching sexual maturity without his informed opinion being heard, not a procedure done by an informed and consenting, sexually active adult for his own benefit.

In a past life, I was an outspoken supporter of circumcision, a hateful liar that would say anything to justify mutilating children. For my sin, I have suffered the pains of hell, but my suffering for that sin is now over as I have learned my lesson and repented. If you leave God no other choice, it is my experience he will condemn you to the same torture you inflict on others.

I am not a strong man, nor am I particularly courageous. I have wept alone for many a night in pity for myself. I am still hurt, and still hurting. I didn’t want the responsibility of communicating the horror of circumcision to the world, but my conscience will drive me insane if I do not speak the truth on this matter, because I don’t see anyone else stepping forward to write what is necessary, and my opinions are extremely well-informed.

If you cannot remember or imagine circumcision pain, simply remember the worst pain of your life, your worst physical trauma. Your conscience knows that to carry out the infliction of such pain on an innocent child is a hate crime.

A long-term challenge for all circumcised males who carry rage about it is developing self-compassion. Start with yourself; love yourself. Give yourself compassion at all times. Do not condemn your anger; instead watch and understand the traumatic memory that is the source of the anger. The more self-compassion, patience and non-violence you can practice, the easier it will be to practice other-compassion. Start with self-compassion, recognize other-selves, extend other-compassion.

9. My Final Plea to Circumcised Fathers

Circumcised Fathers, I pray that my words will convince you not to continue the cycle of hate by mutilating the penises of your sons. On their behalf I say, without the slightest reservation: I DO NOT WANT TO BE CIRCUMCISED!

Even if your motives are purely selfish, and you care only for the wealth and labor your son will bring you, I say this to you: if you circumcise your son, he will never love and respect you as his father, and will undermine whatever wealth he brings you. He will always remember that you failed in a father’s most important duty - to protect his children from physical harm. He will know it every time he feels pain in his mutilated penis, and know his father failed him, as your father failed you, and he will hate you, as you hated your father.

It is possible for you and your son to have the healthy relationship you and your father never had, but not if you allow his body to come to grievous harm, such as circumcision. If you do that, you are no longer his father. He may forgive you if you repent, but that is up to him, forgiveness cannot be forced once trust is broken and the body is permanently disfigured.

My life has been a hell because of circumcision. I wish it was banned, and I wish I had a whole and complete penis to enjoy every day. I didn’t deserve to have my penis cut in half when I was an infant, and you, a circumcised adult male, didn’t either.

Circumcision is a Hate Crime and a Sex Crime. Fathers, stop paying the cruelty forward to your sons; end generations of trauma with your compassionate and wise decision to do the right thing and protect your sons from grievous harm to their genitals. Stop circumcision.

MICHAEL ASAD MANESH

10. A Thank You to Fathers who Choose to Protect Children

Father, if you have decided NOT to circumcise your son: THANK YOU. You have made one of the most important moral choices of your life correctly, and earned yourself an easier path to wisdom.

Some frightened, unenlightened souls may condemn you for it and tempt you to harm innocents, but those who possess both wisdom and compassion will always praise you for protecting children, as I do.

You have a lifetime of work and responsibility ahead of you as a father and protector, but there are great rewards as well, and you will find many allies and joys once you begin down the path of respect and compassion for yourself and others.

Fathers, if you protect your children, you will be my son, and brother, and father, and I will love you, and fight for you, and listen to you, and protect you for as long as I live, as your father should have done for you.

Together, we can make a heaven on earth for all our children, and ourselves.

2021-03-14, First Edition

[email protected]

11. Afterword & Acknowledgements

I was raised to be a soldier: to focus my knowledge and power into a single strike that would destroy the enemy, and leave me unharmed. For that reason, I consider this book a weapon. But who is my enemy?

My enemy is the unconscious rage in circumcised males, that bleeds out and harms those who did not inflict the suffering on them. Only once the rage is acknowledged can it begun to be healed. If you are a warrior, my book is a compact field guide to identifying the enemy within.

As a circumcised male, I can state that I have suffered, I have raged, and that rage almost consumed me and destroyed me. It has taken me many years to undo the psychological damage alone, and the physical damage of my penis mutilation is still a constant pain.

I have lived many years in poverty. I have begged at homeless shelters. I have been denied medical care for circumcision pain. I have done what I needed to to survive and finish this book, but if my conscience would allow me to die after publishing, I might almost consider it a relief. My life so far has not been a blessing or a gift, and I may have years ahead just to heal my penis.

I feel this book is too important to the future of humanity to put behind an app or paywall, so I am making it available for free in three easy to share formats: TXT, HTML & EPUB. Please save, read, and share. If you find my work helpful and wish to thank me, you can donate to me via PayPal or Zelle: [email protected]

This is the future I have seen: if we continue to mutilate our children at birth, a child will soon be born with so much rage and hatred at his mistreatment that he will use technology to destroy the world. We are beginning to see evidence of this, as our kids compete unnecessarily with automated tools. This is the final chance for humanity to act to protect all our children, or none shall survive. I was almost this child, but born a generation too soon, which is why I have foreseen it so clearly.

I can no longer take any action that defends or supports those that mutilate children. I cannot even show my implicit support by remaining silent. We, as a global human tribe, MUST protect ALL children from harm, or perish.

I would rather die than not speak out against the mutilation of a child. I will fight tirelessly for children as someone should have fought tirelessly for me. I will be the solution to the problem, or I will die trying. I encourage you to adopt the same attitude.

I did not know how to describe who I am, until an intelligent, kind, clear-eyed child saw me and named me: I’m a Children’s Rights Activist. Equal treatment is the right of all humans, no matter the age, and the most important protection is that from grievous bodily harm: mutilation.

My book is brutally honest, and will likely be extremely triggering to any other circumcised male reading it. Have compassion on yourself. There will be sadness and anger and other strong emotions that will be released when you process your trauma. It will take time to heal; I have been healing for 6 years and am not yet done.

Zoomers: you are the smartest generation ever. You have incredible access to knowledge in your pocket, and I have every faith in you. However, there is a lot of misinformation about circumcision out there. I hope my book fixes that for you. Good luck, kid. Pay it forward to the next gen, aiite?

There are many alive today, that I need to thank as inspirations to write this book:

@pennjillette @MrTeller, the show you made about circumcision was my first real education on the topic, age 30. I love you as my fathers and thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have made my personal life so much better through your art, attitudes and perspective.

@levarburton, thank you for encouraging me to read as a child and take a look for myself. I once had the pleasure of seeing you from afar at an event, and I have never forgotten your compassionate presence and hopeful vision of the future. You inspired me to write this book.

http://www.pete-walker.com, your book on CPTSD was magnificently helpful to me. I would vote for it as a foundational block of a new school of psychology, dedicated in service to children. Thank you.

@BillBurr, I’ve seen a lot of you and I’ve never seen you lie. As far as channeling righteous anger into helpful advice goes, you are my best inspiration.

@DrGaborMate, your outside perspective of American culture filled in many gaps I was struggling to comprehend. I consider you the bravest man I have ever seen, you inspire me to speak out and attempt to educate others in spite of my fear. You will always have my utmost respect.

@EckhartTolle, you the most fearless, powerful warrior I have seen (please don’t fight me :). Even I could not stand against your infinite patience, tireless compassion and reconciliatory humor. You inspire me to show compassion to others through good-natured, helpful humor, and take joy where I can in life, in each moment, and to be myself.

@JohnMayer, I have cried at the beauty and compassion of your song, "Daughters," every time I have heard it. You inspire me to speak up for, love, and defend women. Thank you for your hard work.

I have many women to thank as well - I believe most would prefer to remain anonymous. You have all been my mothers; you have seen my soul. But especially La, a genius who sagely told me not to let my pain go to waste.

I would also like to thank one individual no longer with us: Osho, who inspired me with a vision of a positive eternity, who taught with thousands of jokes and stories, and went though pain of circumcision as an adult to be able to say firsthand it was “absolutely stupid”. If you seek more reading after my book, I recommend his transcript: “Nirvana: The Last Nightmare.”

#CircumcisionIsAHateCrime

3 notes · View notes

ratherashleigh · 5 years

Text

killing eve, queerbaiting, and why what sandra oh said in that interview is both 100% true and also entirely irrelevant

1. your personal disappointment that a tv show did not do exactly what you want is not queerbaiting just because what you wanted involves queer characters.

1a. yes, i'm going to refer to characters as queer. no, i do not take feedback.

2. actually i don't think 1. is sufficient to cover this topic. so i present:

What Are We Talking About When We Call Something Queerbaiting In 2019?

because this isn't just about language and how words may or may not have evolved to mean different things or include more things or people are just misusing a word because they just don't know. forget about the word. the word is irrelevant. WHAT IS THE ACTUAL COMPLAINT BEING LEVELLED BY FANDOM AT KILLING EVE RIGHT NOW?

pre-that gay times interview: they are never going to get together in a romantic relationship, i feel tricked into watching this on the promise of Queer Content.

post-that gay times interview: the show is denying that it is queer at all. fuck them they're wrong.

3. why the pre-interview complaint is, uh, wrong: queer content is queer content even if it's not the queer content you want.

fandom in general is obsessed with relationships. literally the verb for our single unifying activity is derived from the word relationship. the reason we, fandom, exist as a group at all, by and large, arises out of our collective desire for something that performative media does not do particularly well: relationships, specifically romantic ones, very especially queer romantic ones.

maybe it needs to be pointed out at this point that the relationship between fandom and the source is a bit like a dog chasing its own tail. or a snake eating its own tail, depending on the way the wind is blowing. fandom exists because it's not getting what it wants. and fandom turns on the source when it doesn't get what it wants. the problem: performative media, and especially longform media like television, is pretty much constructed by design in such a way that it will not give fandom what it wants.

(and it's weird that "fandom" is a term reserved pretty exclusively for ship-based fan activity, right? it's weird because fandom seems to imply we are fans, but all of this is about how the thing we are supposedly fans of is in some way not giving us what we want.)

i keep saying "what we want". i'm going to pause for a moment here to say something controversial: the story queer fandom wants has almost never, ever in the entire history of television, been provided to straight ship fans. because it's not a thing television provides, generally, at all. let me spell out what i think fandom wants, a conclusion based on excluding all the things i see being complained about, and attempting to find common elements in what's left over: queer couple in an expressly declared romantic relationship without conflict and with storylines centering around said relationship.

don't get me wrong, sometimes those things magically happen on tv, and overwhelmingly the examples of that will be het couples. H O W E V E R. those het couples are rare as fuck.

it's actually pretty straightforward as to why this is the case, and it is the reason i say performative media, especially television, does not, by design, give us what we want: narrative storytelling revolves around conflict. whether or not this is a good thing or not is irrelevant to the fact that it just is. romantic relationships in film and television tend to have two modes: UST and relationship problems. both of which involve conflict that impedes the relationship itself. the reason UST is generally what gets people shipping things is because the conflict is what's keeping them from being together, the implication being that but for the thing getting in the way the narrative has made some effort to show that these two characters WANT to be together. the reason tv tends to piss people off so much is because the default conflict once there IS a relationship is something that is going to break them apart. maybe they DON'T want to be together. the first inspires that sportsfan-like mentality that if we just try hard enough, we the characters but also we the fans cheering them on, will overcome the obstacle in the way. but overcoming something trying to break a couple apart is one of the singularly most unsatisfying narrative resolutions because the very fact of it required us to believe on some level that they could be broken apart. when your team is on top, it's not triumph you feel when they win but relief that they didn't lose. "they survived" is not the same happy ending as "they're together now," even if functionally it is the same outcome.

the other is more a function of how a tv show (much more than film) is actually constructed: a two lead cast with only minor secondary characters is RARE now. the kinds of shows that have the largest fandoms tend to be long season, large cast ensembles with either a plot of the week that means different characters interacting each episode OR is beholden to a larger narrative arc that needs to work to bring those other characters in over and over again. either way, the focus will never be exclusively and exhaustively on the two main leads interacting with each other.

4. so is killing eve not giving fandom what it wants?

like i said, the way stories are told does not, usually, facilitate this hypothetical dream ship: conflict free and the focus of the story. the thing being asked for barely exists at all. killing eve, magically, manages to tick one of the boxes, because the show does indeed revolve around the relationship between eve and villanelle. but the conflict? OH BOY IS THERE CONFLICT. it's not the relationship that fandom wants. it's not even close.

i'm not even going to pretend to understand how anyone watching this show concluded that the logical or even rational outcome for these two characters was happily ever after. but i'm also not going to straw man that extreme and dismiss the argument entirely. they certainly could have been together, even in an entirely fucked up manner. but what does that look like? sexual intimacy? i would argue we got that. expressions of attraction? we got that too. YALL. THAT'S QUEER AS FUCK.

what else, exactly, is required of this particular relationship to legitimize it in the eyes of fandom that doesn't take these characters entirely out of who they are? this is where i draw the line: WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT, GIVEN WHAT THIS SHOW IS? based on everything i have seen, apparently the answer is a kiss between them. and i think that ties back to this very specific fandom desire for evidence that the relationship isn't JUST queer, but also romantic. that distinction is the one that i'm starting to feel is the true conflict between those who call something like killing eve queerbaiting and those who think calling killing eve queerbaiting is bonkers.

and to be real fucking honest now, i don't just think it's bonkers, i also think it is misleading as fuck. because let's go back to what queerbaiting is, really, when you don't start trying to roll in every damn sin of storytelling about queer characters: queerbaiting is a maliciously intended trap. it's behaviour that is meant to entice people who want queer storylines, only to offer them nothing.

AND NOW TO BE REAL CLEAR: being offered nothing is NOT AND WILL NEVER BE the same thing as being offered something you don't like, or don't want, or don't give a single fuck about. it's not even the same thing as being offered something queer but harmful.

5. LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK: QUEERBAITING IS MALICIOUS WITHHOLDING OF QUEER CONTENT SAID TO BE ON OFFER.

the fact that metro dot co dot uk in 2019 had to define queerbaiting as "marketing an LGBT romance to attract an LGBT audience without exploring it properly on-screen" is honestly offensive in how it completely manages to miss the mark on what exactly is the harm caused by actual queerbaiting, and yet that really is the claim being made, isn't it? it doesn't count unless it's a romantic relationship? so let me say this: if one more person implies i'm not queer because i'm not in a romantic relationship, i'm gonna lose my shit.

(5a. and inb4 BUT THAT UK ADVERTISING CAMPAIGN. if you read that as a promise that the show was going to be ROMANTIC and not VILLANELLE IS A LITERAL PSYCHOPATH, i'm surprised you read this far.)

it's really obvious how this became the catchcry of the campaign for queer representation. it's a moral judgement against creators' manipulation of people's desire for something we are coming to recognise as an important aspect to popular media. representation IS important, and taking advantage of people's need for that is at the bare minimum a shitty thing to do.

it's not shitty to give people that representation. it's not shitty to write complex characters with queer sexualities that are not demonized but are also not in a romantic relationship. this endless cry of being baited with the promise of a romantic relationship only sends a message that we don't want actual representation, we only want one kind of representation. and that's not representation at all.

6. why the post-interview complaint is also totally wrong: literally all sandra oh said is that it wasn't a romantic relationship.

see: literally the last 1500+ words about why not giving fandom queer romance is not the same fucking thing as queerbaiting.

WHAT SANDRA OH SAID IS 100% TRUE: IT IS NOT A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP. IT'S STILL QUEER AS HELL.

the actual literal entire quote from the interview: 'And could that possibly mean a romance together? It's a discussion that the show's star... was quick to dismiss, saying to Gay Times that the idea is sadly not a "focus or a message" for the show.' in case long sentences are a struggle: the idea of a ROMANCE is not the focus or the message of the show.

7. and in case i haven't made this abundantly clear, killing eve isn't a romantic show?: GOOD.

#killing eve #tv: qu'est ce que c'est

338 notes · View notes

guccifloralsuits · 5 years

Note

You should also explain to anon what larries are and why you need to stay away from them... i feel like it should be part of the crash course for new harries because (speaking from own experience) new fans often easily believe their bullshit and their views of harry and his relationships become warped bc of it

Prospective New Fan Crash Course: Larry Stylinson

Introduction:

Larry Stylinson is a ship name given to 1D band mates Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, after some fans became convinced they were in a forcibly closeted relationship due to Modest Management. The two denied being together and repeatedly asked fans to stop, and invasive fan-shipping is attributed to the decimation of H & L’s friendship. By the end of 1D, they could barely stand next to each other or talk in public without rabid fans (& sometimes tabloids) dissecting every millisecond of their interactions. It was incredibly uncalled for, Invasive, downright creepy, and some people still believe in the conspiracy, today.

A Short Timeline:

One Direction was formed to compete on British X Factor. Harry & Louis were fast friends. They pretty much immediately clicked — and you can see this really clearly when the band started recording video diaries, and in early interviews with 1D.

For the first few years of one direction, it was really clear that they were best friends. They did a lot of interviews together - they even lived together for a short amount of time. A lot of people shipped the Bromance, but increasingly some fans became obsessed with the idea that the two were secretly in a relationship - despite repeated denials, them saying they were uncomfortable with fan behavior, and asking fans to stop, constantly.

Band members, family, and they themselves often remarked about how uncomfortable they felt with the shippers who wouldn’t let up.

Band members on Larry Shippers:

Liam:

“It’s like, when you know the ins and outs of what is going on with people and it’s just annoying when it’s so stupid,” the 22-year-old said. “It becomes like a conspiracy or like a cult, the people who watch them and think that every move they make is a gesture toward them being together, and I know it’s just not true and it makes me mad.” (XXX)

“I get tagged in drawings of Louis and Harry being together. I remember one time I was sitting next to my dad and I see this picture of me on top of Niall [Horan], which was quite intimidating. It’s just really weird to have people drawing these sexually explicit pictures of us in strange situations.”

Zayn:

“There’s no secret relationships going on with any of the band members,“

“It’s not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them,” he said. “They won’t naturally go put their arm around each other because they’re conscious of this thing that’s going on, which is not even true. They won’t do that natural behavior.” (FADER)

Niall:

Tends to be the quitest (aside from Harry but harry never comments on anything, ever). Shaded a bunch of larries a few weeks ago on twitter tho if I recall correctly lol

Larries would (and still try to) micro-analyze every single interaction, no matter how small. And the media would sometimes hop onto the bandwagon, going out of their way to make both H & L uncomfortable questing if Larry is real.

After constantly dealing with this, a lot of public interaction stopped. But as Larry shippers had less to work with, they became increasingly obsessive about keeping up their fantasy. Some highlights:

Repeatedly dismissing Eleanor Calder, Louis’s long-term girlfriend as a ‘beard’ often going so far as to harass her social media, her family, & rip her apart for every minuscule action or reaction.

Calling Louis’s son not actually his, and believing that management forced Louis to pretend to have a son to save face & keep his relationship with Harry a secret. (Deadass. They think Louis’s son isn’t real & is still being used as a cover).

Don’t get me started on how horrible some of the fan-fiction is, it’s so so invasive.

still think the two are together in a hidden relationship, despite not publicly being in the same location for around 3 years.

Today some larries still exist, but we don’t welcome them into these parts.

In 2017, Louis straight up said that Larry shippers kinda completely ruined their friendship.

Louis on Larry:

“It kind of happened naturally for me and Harry because a certain amount of the fans drew up this conspiracy,” Louis said about the Larry Stylinson conspiracy theories. “When it first came around I was with Eleanor, and it actually felt a little bit disrespectful to Eleanor, who is my girlfriend now. I’m so protective over things like that, about the people I love.”

“It created this atmosphere between the two of us where everyone was looking into everything we did,” Louis said candidly. “It took away the vibe you get off anyone. It made everything, I think on both fences, a little bit more unapproachable.”

recently & notably, TV series “Euphoria” had a fanon imagined sex scene between the two on the show, which neither band member constented to and Louis made a statement expressing his offense at. This is just…one example among many for fans and media taking things way too far. I can pull up the reciepts for more but….god it makes me tired & angry. There are so many messed up & invasive questions, fan actions, and media articles.

Implications:

Larry changed the way RPF fandom works, being to first shift from “this is a fantasy about two real people I wish were together” and beginning to project a fans own reality onto the two. Effectively, they treat Harry & Louis like dolls in a game which they get to make the rules for. It’s fucked up, and we don’t support them. moral of the story: don’t insert fan made fantasy into the lives of real people.

this has been a tea-party hosted by yours truly. F Larry shippers, full stop.

For Further Reading

#asks #HS info #this is about to lose me a lot of L**** followers and ya know what? good #anti larry #harry styles #this turned in to a full on essay w an intro thesis evidence and conclusion ghjdkeldjtryuioiuytryuioiuytryuio #L slur

57 notes · View notes

tanadrin · 6 years

Text

Olly Thorn, the guy who does Philosophy Tube, argues in his video on liberalism that, as an ideology, it’s characterized primarily by its tendency to carve out exceptions: politicians of classical liberal bent like moderate Republicans in the US and Tories in the UK promulgate a general political perspective of to-each-their-own, but place those principles in abeyance for pragmatic or situational reasons--and, of course, classically liberal documents like the U.S. Constitution talk a big game of being about freedom and self-determination generally, while having implicit and explicit glaring exceptions, like women and black slaves.

I disagree. Not because I’m a diehard classical liberal; I think liberalism is a useful starting point through which many much more incisive and useful political and social analyses have passed. It is at best the Newtonian physics of human rights, though sometimes it reeks of epicycles. But: I think liberalism is best understood as the practical application of philosophical principles discovered during the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, but only fully explored and coherently grappled with much later. Nonetheless, as a tendency, it does have its own internal logic, and the apparent suspension of liberal principles by self-professed liberals is less an inherent property of a liberal worldview than an inherent property of humans being shitty and clinging to, or adopting, prejudice when it’s expedient or provides some measure of personal comfort.

This is important because I think that ultimately the contradiction between the liberal perspective and the mental jiu-jitsu required to maintain those prejudices from a liberal perspective can open the floodgates to progress. Let us take the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s in the US as an example. Many different factors contributed to the successes of the CRM in the 20th century. Previous attempts to win something like civil equality for black people in the US had failed: Reconstruction was abandoned, struggles against segregation in the early 20th century came to little, and the appetite for racial discrimination on the part of the white majority, especially in the South, was not at all diminished after the end of World War 2.

What changed? Mostly, I think, the right leaders and the right strategies at the right time. But a strong contributing factor was the fact that the U.S. saw itself as an essentially liberal construct, based on rights and freedoms and equality, and no matter what racist justifications were trotted out to narrow the scope of those rights, it was increasingly apparent both in internal and external terms that something was hilariously out of kilter. Women’s suffrage, the labor movement, and the relentless drive of black Americans to increase their own economic prosperity made it clear that there were brutal archaisms within the systems of American life that could no longer be sustained. On the world stage, two massive wars were fought in which the U.S. positioned itself as a defender of freedom and democracy, alongside allies that emphatically did *not* have explicit regimes of racial segregation enshrined in their laws, or the same thoroughgoing ideology of white supremacy, and one of which indeed argued (at least on paper) for a kind of radical social equality that would have had the so-called freedom-loving founders of the U.S. begging and screaming for a king to come back and rule over them again.

Like all great attempts at reform, the CRM achieved less than it set out to do. But, in a way that the labor movement and women’s suffrage had not, it did leave a powerful lasting model within American culture and within the American civil religion for What Rights-Seeking Is Supposed To Look Like. I don’t know why the CRM was unique in this respect. (I suspect that it’s because the CRM occurred when the contradictions it sought to undo were at their height, relatively-speaking: even in the 50s and 60s, the philosophical justification for racism and segregation was basically incoherent screeching, which meant that extremely uncontroversial tactics could prove highly persuasive.) It also established that *this was a process that was supposed to occur.* By giving such a process a formal presence within civil society, it directly laid the groundwork for other movements rebelling against much older, and much more deeply ingrained prejudices, against which liberalism had, heretofore, been mostly powerless. This was extremely important.

Gay and lesbian culture, and the idea that gay and lesbian people might not be demon-possessed desecrators of all that was good and decent in life, did not appear suddenly in the second half of the 20th century. But the CRM provided a new framework in which to cast the concept of gay rights, and, indirectly, language for a gay identity that wasn’t one entirely of rebellion. Let us cast ourselves back to a much earlier era, the long 18th century. In this era, before even the milquetoast concession to the humanity of homosexuals that was the reclassifying homosexuality as a psychiatric disorder instead of an immolation-worthy offense, the dominant language to talk about good and bad, ethical and unethical, right and wrong, was monopolized by religion and the religion-adjacent concept of natural law. Lacking the natural empiricism that was the legacy of scientists like Darwin, natural law was conceived of in narrow terms that were not, in fact, based on any close or careful observations of nature, but human biases projected on to the natural sphere. Therefore, for many people who found themselves inherently opposed to the dominant ethical framework, like those who fell in love with and were attracted to people of the same sex, the choice they had must have felt from the inside a lot like Huck Finn’s: to be “good,” even though it was personally and spiritually intolerable to you, or to say, “All right then, I’ll go to hell.”

If society refuses to make a distinction between real evils and real suffering we visit upon each other and the moralizing “evils” we conceive of only to police the behavior and opinions of our neighbors, it must not pretend to be astonished when those who, out of no actual malicious inclination, must be themselves or perish reject that general framework entirely. And you know what? I sympathize. If somebody told me that who I was, inherently, was evil, even though I desire no harm and no suffering to anyone around me, and that expressing that identity even in private was equivalent to--or worse than!--inflicting grievous harm on another human being out of pure hatred, I would be extremely suspicious of their overarching moral framework.

Out of, I suspect, an inclination to rebelliousness and an imperfect analysis of the insufficiencies those antiquated frameworks, people like Marquis de Sade embraced or appeared to embrace monstrous ethics, because these were the only other ethics available to them. Christian, and especially Catholic teachings on sexual ethics require not only a denial of truths of human nature available to casual, empirical inspection (if one is willing to conduct such an inspection dispassionately, attendant to discovery of novel goods as well as novel ills), but a monstrous indifference to the suffering such teaching inflict on those who are simply unable to conform. Then, Pikachu-like, the Catholic church looks at gays and lesbians and gender-nonconforming people and says to itself, “Why on earth did these people reject the simple truth of the teachings of Christ??”

Thankfully, the gay rights movement has a superpower that the African-American civil rights movement, and the feminist movement, and many other such movements throughout history, did not. That superpower was the closet, or, more specifically, in the act of coming out. Women, the working class, and racial minorities are not randomly distributed throughout the population. Working class children are not born at random to middle-class and wealthy families; you do not need to come out as black to your shocked segregationist parents at sixteen. There is not a pre-scripted social role for gays and lesbians to slot into, a set of norms that are foisted on one as totally and completely as gender roles with a provenance that stretches back into the misty depths of Mesopotamian time. (There could have been. In some societies there is something quite like that--just not in ours.)

Because literally anyone could be gay, and because creating social bubbles of like racial or political or socioeconomic attributes does not insulate one from knowing someone who has the experience of being gay, even though gay people are not a large proportion of the population (2-5%, maybe), it becomes much harder to maintain “gay” as a firmly isolated category of other. When just enough gay people have come out in a society that is just liberal enough to tolerate their existence, it rapidly incentivizes more gay people to come out, both to be able to live as themselves, and to say to their acquaintances and family, even if in the most nominal way, “yes, you too know a gay person. You must integrate your knowledge of me as a person into your understanding of the category ‘homosexual.’” And, of course, also incentivizes closer analysis of sexual identities; of the coming out of bisexual people, who otherwise might live tolerably-but-unhappily in the closet, or who simply might not understand that bisexuality is a thing and they share it; and, as we have now, the beginning of a glorious blossoming of a diverse and nuanced understanding of sexuality and sexual identity. To the reactionary mind, this looks like the gays are recruiting, and lobbying, and overturning the order of society. In fact, what is happening is that even those conservative by inclination (among them, famously, Dick Cheney) cannot maintain both their avowed liberalism and their opposition to gay rights when confronted with members of their own family who are gay. It may not lead them to a comprehensive application of the ruthless logic of liberal democracy, but it does destroy one specific contradiction. This is why, even though the U.S. as a whole is not much more socially liberal, the popular opposition to gay marriage absolutely fucking *cratered* between the end of the 90s, when the idea was first conceived of in an extremely-distant extremely-theoretical way, and Obergefell. For institutional reasons peculiar to American conservatism, there’s still a nominal opposition, but let’s be clear: the war is over. Gay marriage (which I’m using here as a proxy for ‘basic acceptability of homosexuality as a personal attribute’) won.

This not to say that all discourse over gay rights is finished, any more than racism in the US ended with the VRA in 1964, or the need for feminism ended when women got the vote. Political rights aren’t the equivalent of social equality. But how we organize ourselves politically is integral to the mythology of our society--there’s a reason that, say, in the US electing your high school student council uses first past the post voting, while in Ireland it uses IRV. Political rights are a baseline and a pivot point. If your right to marry someone of the same sex is protected by law, it is a powerful social signal that being gay is OK--just as the VRA is a powerful social signal that racism is not, and women’s suffrage that women’s role as political beings is not to be ignored.

So there’s an ongoing social struggle to dismantle illiberal-undemocratic incoherencies within smaller bubbles of society, using the overarching consensus, and to dismantle biases and prejudices which are predicated on the illegitimacy of homosexuality, because the actual implications of the legitimacy of a gay identity haven’t been fully worked out generally. Same as with race. Same as with gender equality. And because the L, the G, the B, and the T (and all the other letters in the increasingly-expanding initialism) are related, because gender and sex and sexuality are part of a huge and messy complex of human identity, transness and trans identities specifically, while constituting a distinct concept on their own, are bound up in other ongoing struggles, while also having issues all their own. If, as Dan Savage says, misogyny is homophobia’s snot-nosed sibling (and it absolutely is), so is transphobia. You cannot be a transphobe and not, at some level, be supporting the same set of memes that has for thousands of years legitimized sexism, sexual exploitation, the brutalization of gay people, etc., etc.

What are some of those unique issues? Well, for one, transness is more bound up with medicalization and looks more to medicine to legitimize itself as an identity than any other GSM. There are historical and practical reasons for that. Historical, in that sex researchers and psychiatrists newly interested in the empirical exploration of human identities were among the first people to take the experiences of trans people seriously. While we had preexisting and strong social stigmas around the idea of homosexuality, we had a society so transphobic by default that it didn’t even really understand trans people could exist, much less come up with invective against them. This didn’t mean early trans pioneers like Lili Elbe were accepted by society, really; but the cruel incomprehension of society was more like the attitude to circus freaks than to serial killers. With gay people, on the other hand, “sympathetic” psychiatrists reclassified homosexuality as a disease, then started work on various kinds of fucked-up conversion therapy. Psychiatry may be a science, but let it never be said that science is immune to human prejudice.

But the practical reason for that association is that modern medical technology offers a powerful tool for relieving the suffering of trans people. To be sure, there are specific concerns of medical care among gay, lesbian, and bi people, too, especially since the beginning of the AIDS pandemic. But such is a) the complex and interlocking aspects of gender and presentation and embodiment of both in our society and b) the nature in which dysphoria is felt by trans people, that medical intervention is, purely on a pragmatic level, a powerful tool to both relieve suffering specific to the experience of being trans. That’s not really the case with gay or bi identities.

Where we run into trouble is where we rely on the interface between trans identities and medical institutions to legitimate trans identities. What this huge long screed has all been a preface to is this assertion: that it is, above all, entirely unnecessary. You do not need a comprehensive medical theory of blackness to recognize black people deserve rights. You do not need a medical theory of gayness to recognize gay people deserve rights. Ditto womanhood. Indeed, in *every one* of those cases, medical theorizing on paradigms of homosexuality, womanhood, and race have been used to prop up, rather than to dismantle prejudices, and it is only the relentless logic of liberal values, either on their own terms, or in the more sophisticated form under which they’re incorporated into other critiques of society (as leftists sometimes manage), that have ultimately pushed through the “eww, I don’t like these people” reaction to a consistently tolerant treatment of these categories as fully realized human beings--or, at least, the beginnings of that treatment.

(Irrelevant aside: I actually entirely expect that the close relationship between medical and experiential aspects of transess will be the vehicle to greater acceptability of a transhuman ethos around how we interact with our bodies. Because the morphological self-determination aspect of transhumanism is fundamentally liberal, i.e., it’s about personal autonomy and personal flourishing, and because the technologies available to facilitate that are medical, they’re bound up with the cultural aspects of medicine. Right now, that’s a disease model, based both on the inheritance of medicine as “thing which exists to make people healthy again,” and the practical limits of scarcity and wanting people to pay out of pocket for anything that is classified as purely cosmetic. But in my heart of Utopian hearts, even purely cosmetic procedures belong to the same category, mutatis mutandis 1) whether they can be shorn from the (IMO mostly unfair) presumption they’re about conforming to oppressive social norms, and 2) the fact they’re usually used to enact a preference much less acute and involving much less personal difficulty than GID. But big, big emphasis on “usually.” To put it another way, unbinding medicalization from transness wouldn’t be an argument against providing specialized medical care for trans people. It would be an argument for providing a similar set of services to everyone.)

I’m actually deeply uninterested in theorizing about what transness is or how it’s constituted. For one, I think a lot of the questions around it are simplistic and ill-defined, such as the utterly moronic search for “a gay gene.” Human identity and sexuality and sex, and cultural complexes built around those things which have their roots in, but really aren’t tied to biology in any kind of philosophically consistent way, are too multifactorial, and too fuzzy to be clearly or cleanly captured by psychiatry and neuroscience and biology as they currently stand. Maybe one day, when we have Culture-level AI able to image us down to the subatomic level and run sophisticated simulations of every metabolic pathway and every cognitive tic simultaneously we can create a sufficiently detailed model of the human being to speak on these things with some certainty. But that’s actually irrelevant to the messy business of lived experience, and to the practical business of “how do we get people to stop deliberately inflicting massive amounts of suffering on each other.”

The answer to the latter question is essentially the same as has been for homosexuality. Like gay people, trans people have the superpower of being able to come out. Unlike gay people, trans people make up an even smaller proportion of the population. And the conversation around the diversity of gender identity is even more in its infancy than the conversation around sexual identities. But as we have seen time and time again, the exact constitution of the identity is irrelevant to the identity’s legitimacy. Those hostile to that identity will always find a basis on which to rest their hostility: using medical legitimacy, or failure to conform to the gender binary, or failure to meet some arbitrary definition of dysphoria, will make it no easier to gain acceptance. Minorities under siege have been willing to throw less-mainstream members of the group under the bus to defend themselves since time immemorial: it never works. You will be accepted for precisely as long as you are useful to attack other members of the group, and then they will turn on you. Racists will use black people who look down on AAVE to say, “see! I’m not racist!” and then still refuse to hire the well-dressed black person who speaks perfectly standard GenAm, over a less qualified white person. There is no “balancing act” between a “reasonable” set of trans identities and an “unreasonable” set, because what the philosophical battle is over is not where, exactly, the line will be drawn for a minority identity, but the validity of that fundamental identity in the first place.

So I tire of people who want to endlessly split and compare forms of transness that they feel are well beyond the set of central examples of trans identity. I tire of people who want to treat some forms of gender self-identity as invalid, or of too little value to the person making them to be worth caring about. This is not just dumb, and it’s not just bad strategy (solidarity! it works, bitches). It’s actually completely missing the point. If you can convince society that “trans” is a legitimate identity, the supposed edge cases don’t matter. If you can’t, abandoning people “without” “real” “dysphoria” or w/e won’t make a difference. It’s not as if they’re the one thing standing in the way of every transphobe going “welp, guess we were wrong!” The thing standing in the way is that they refuse to accept trans identities at all. They will point to whatever they can to buttress that lack of acceptance, and if it isn’t that it will be something else. The thing that works against that, the thing that dismantles that, is the same thing that always dismantles prejudice: you be who you are. You don’t let anyone take that away from you. And if someone asks you to philosophically justify your experiences, your life, your existence, you tell them to get fucked, and you keep right on living.

#ramblings and doggerel #please excuse the long ass maddowesque meandering #i swear there's a point at the bottom of all this

14 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

LEFT BEHIND - WANDA MAXIMOFF X READER - #02 "R.I.P to My Youth"

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

A/N: So, chapter two is here. Honestly, this story is a mess in my head haha but somehow people are enjoying so i'm sharing. Good reading!

Dictionary for this chapter: dvornyaga - mutt || chuma - plague/brat || Prostite, mem - sorry, ma'm || Vor - thief || printsessa - princess || skuchnyy - annoying ||

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses. Chapter warnings: Underage kissing, violence.

Words: 3.268 K

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Part One || Series Masterlist

//-//

Chapter Two - R.I.P to My Youth

Sokovia, 7 years ago.

You ducked quickly when you noticed the punch coming toward you.

"Stand still, dvornyaga!" Said the teenager trying to hold you by the shoulders, but you slipped out of his hands, dodging under his arms and starting to run.

The boy rushed to catch up with you, but you were smaller, and fit into places he couldn't get into. Rolling into a crevice in one of the abandoned factories, you laughed as the boy and his friends shouted angrily at you, unable to follow.

Your joy died the second you turned the corner. The nursemaid from the orphanage waiting for you with her arms folded.

"Running away from chores again, chuma?" The woman asked angrily. You ducked your head, walking over to her. As soon as you reached her, she pinned your ear between her fingers, causing you to grumble in pain as you were dragged into the building.

"Prostite, mem." You tried to apologize, but the woman would not listen, and then pushed you inside.

"No dinner for you." She informed you by throwing a broom into your hands. "Get upstairs and go clean the roofs now!

You climbed onto the rooftops with a grimace, softly cursing all the sisters as witches.

When you arrived, you noticed that there were already other orphans there.

"Good afternoon, Vor." Pietro greeted wryly. You approached him to help him carry one of the tiles.

"Stop calling me that." You retorted, but Pietro just laughed, thanking you for your help afterwards. "Why are you here?"

"I broke Nikolai's nose." He told you, and you looked at him reproachfully.

"And you let them catch you?" You asked. "You used to be smarter than that."

"Shut up." He grumbled humorously, waiting for you to finish sweeping the area you were in to return the tile to its place. "And what did you do this time? Are you going to tell me that Madame Pavlova caught you robbing the church again?"

You laughed, finishing sweeping and going back to helping Pietro lift another tile.

"Church money is for the poor." You retort. "I'm poor, how can I steal what's mine?"

"Keep this up and you'll be in jail as soon as you get out of here." A voice spoke behind you, startling you a little.

"You're so nosy aren't you, Wanda?" You teased the girl, and she grimaced at you before looking at her brother.

"What are you doing up here?" Pietro asked before Wanda could speak again. The girl crossed her arms, watching you guys work.

"I brought food for you two. But with this hostility, I think I'll stay downstairs."

You and Pietro exchanged giggles.

"Sorry, Wanda." You asked in unison, making the girl smile. She looked around to check if there were no priests, or nuns, or orphans staring at you from the window pane below before taking some bagels and bread from a wrapper inside her blouse pocket.

"Is there any possibility that you will stop stealing and behave yourselves?" Wanda asked slightly irritated, and you exchanged a look with Pietro.

"Unlikely." You replied, making him laugh. Wanda looked at you reproachfully. "Don't make that face, printsessa. This is stealing too.”

"Don't call me that." Wanda complained between teeth. But you smiled, because you noticed the slight reddening of her cheeks. "And I wouldn't have to steal if you two would stop causing trouble."

"Or maybe you could let us starve next time." Pietro retorted wryly, and ended up getting slapped on the shoulder by his sister, making you laugh. "Sorry, that was stupid."

"You two are so ungrateful." She grumbled turning to leave. You and Pietro exchanged a look, worried that Wanda was angry. But she gave you two one last look before turning away. "Tomorrow, wake up early. I want to show something."

Wanda went down the roof next, and you exchanged a smile with Pietro before turning back to work.

//-//

Wanda poked you in the ribs and you turned your head quickly. You, she and Pietro were ducking behind a car, breaking curfew, and probably some passing law, since you were in an abandoned building.

"They arrived last week." Wanda said to the two of you, looking in the direction of the back door of the building. There were three men in suits talking in the doorway, and casually looking around to see if they were alone. "They stay there all day."

"What's suspicious about that?" Pietro asked.

"Do you guys remember those kids who disappeared last week?" Wanda asked and waited for you and Pietro to confirm before continuing. "I found the orphanage uniform in the dumpster from the building. What if they are picking up the orphans?"

"You said they speak german, right?" You retorted with a question. When Wanda confirmed, you made a thoughtful face. "What if they are Nazi doctors? They could be trying that supremacist shit again."

"I think we should leave." Pietro said next. "Before they see us here."

"Yeah, come on." Wanda agreed before taking one last look at the door meters away from you, the men were entering. Neither you or Pietro notice that one of them looked directly at the girl before closing the door.

//-//

Pietro advanced against you with his fists raised, but you ducked and shoved him in the ribs.

"Well done, Vor!" He spoke contentedly, sounding surprised. He took two more steps toward you, but you dodged, and threw your arms against his waist. You both laughed as you both fell back onto the grass. Pietro rolled you on the ground to get on top. "You can't let them knock you down, little one."

"I'm the one who knocked you down, asshole." You retort humorously, trying to get up. But Pietro is heavy on you.

"I'm letting you win, obviously." The boy says with a smile. You hate that Pietro has grown so big as to win in fights, but at least he helps you learn to fight with the kids on the street. Which was funny, since Wanda always told you to run.

"Oh, really?" You hit back and then raise your knee hard, hitting him in the balls. Pietro lets out an exclamation of pain and falls beside you to the floor, whimpering. You feel bad at the same moment. "Shit, I'm sorry, Piet." You ask, but let out a giggle, watching him gasp in pain.

"What are you two doing here?" A voice suddenly asked, and you looked forward to find the high school monitor looking at you two reproachfully.

"Shit." You grumbled already hurrying to get up and lift Pietro quickly, who seemed to fight the pain to follow you.

"Maximoff! I should know." The woman spoke annoyed, hurrying to cross the railing. You and Pietro were skipping calculus class in the usually empty area behind the gym. But before she finished crossing, you and Pietro were already running away, laughing at the curses the woman yelled at you, and something about detention for a month.

By the time you stopped running, you were in the city, in the alleyways of suburban Sokovia.

Pietro punched you under the shoulder the moment you stopped, and when you grumbled he said it was for the kick.

"Are you hungry?" You asked as you massaged the spot of the punch.

"Yes." He replied looking around. Some people looked curiously at you two, probably because you came to the scene running, but you ignored it.

"I'll get us some food." You let him know and then you are already walking away to the fair area a few meters ahead. Pietro rolls his eyes at the smug expression you cast at him before you put the cap of your jacket over your head.

//-//

"What have you two gotten yourselves into?" Wanda asked angrily, throwing her backpack on top of the torn armchair. You and Pietro took your eyes off the card game to look at her.

The little crib you set up in one of Sokovia's condemned buildings was cold and damp, but it was the closest thing to a home where no one cursed, or order any of you to clean and do any tasks, so it was your favorite place.

Usually the three of you would run away from the orphanage and school as much as possible to stay around here, but then Wanda started actually studying and you and Pietro didn't.

"Sorry, Wands, calculus isn't really our thing." You grumbled to the girl. Wanda approached you with her arms crossed.

"But athletics it is, I believe." She retorted. "If you keep skipping class, you'll get kicked off the team. The guidance counselor told me to warn you two, and she talked for half an hour, so thanks for that." Wanda grumbled ironically, and you kicked Pietro lightly to get him to stop laughing.

You reached out for the paper package you left in the corner of one of the armchairs.

"Maybe this will improve your mood, printsessa." You said as you handed the item to Wanda. She looked tired, and grimaced, grudgingly thanking you. She smiled weakly when she realized it was food. "I saved some bread for you too."

"You two need to stop stealing." She warned, but took a bite of her food. You shrugged, and returned your attention to the game.

"If we had enough food, I wouldn't need to steal anything." You retorted, and Pietro murmured in agreement, while Wanda frowned slightly.

"You could get some work, too." Wanda argues and you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"We've had this conversation a million times, printsessa."

"Stop calling me that." She asks annoyed.

You rolled your eyes again, and made a move. Pietro sighed slightly, since he was losing.

"I can call you skuchnyy, if you prefer." You retort humorously, and Wanda slaps you on the arm, making you and Pietro laugh.

"If you keep stealing, you'll end up in jail! Or worse, killed." She then adds, and you exchange a look with Pietro.

"Only if we get caught." The boy says and you hold back a laugh, seeing Wanda's disapproving look.

She lets out an impatient exclamation, and starts eating in silence. You focus on the game again, knowing that this discussion would happen again. Wanda would always complain that you were stealing, out of pure concern, and you and Pietro would continue to ignore it, out of necessity.

//-//

Sokovia, 6 years ago.

Gasping and out of breath, you kept running.

"I'm going to win." You heard Pietro shout excitedly beside you, running as fast as you.

"Shut up." You shouted back, but Pietro actually reached the finish line first. You laughed, though, trying to normalize your breathing as you sat on the ground.

Coach walked over to the two of you next, past the small crowd of students who were watching the race celebrating Pietro's victory.

"That was excellent, Maximoff." Congratulated the coach with a handshake. Pietro smiled embarrassed, and you laughed at his face.

"Come on, I'll buy you lunch to celebrate." You told the boy as soon as you stood up, and the coach had left. Pietro threw his arm around you, and you pushed him away. "Get off, you're sweaty."

He laughed, and you parted your ways in the locker room. After taking a shower, you found Pietro already wearing his regular clothes instead of his athletic clothes, but he was not alone. There was a man in a suit talking to him.

As you approached, the man looked at you and waved his hat before turning and leaving.

"What was that?" You asked curiously, but Pietro had a grim expression on his face. "Piete, are you okay?"

"Yeah." He says looking away from yours to the paper in your hands. He puts it away in his pocket before you can read it. "I need to talk to Wanda. Rain check on our lunch later."

"Okay." You mumble confusedly, watching Pietro walk away quickly.

//-//

"Pay attention, no one must see you. Go in quietly, place the packages, and leave without being seen." Warned the man in front of you. You swallowed dryly, but nodded in agreement.

You exchanged a glance with Pietro and Wanda before turning to enter through the small gap in the railing, one of the new commercial buildings on the other side.

Now that you were older, the protest groups accepted you at the marches. You and the twins had been participating for a few months now, and they were usually peaceful walks. But then one of the leaders learned that you could fit in small places, and here you were, sneaking into one of the new buildings that took the place of one of the apartment complexes, looking for the exact spot to place the packages that the group handed you.

Even though you were nervous, you made it. And it was only when you were outside that you heard an explosion much bigger than you expected.

When you saw one of the security guards with a bloody head, shouting in Sokovian for the vandals to be stopped while the rest of the protesters shouted and held up their placards, everything seemed to get a little muffled for you, and you could only focus on the powder marks on your fingers. Stumbling away, you ran.

//-//

Sokovia, 5 years ago.

"You two have lost your minds!" You exclaim in surprise and irritation, taking yourself off the wooden bench you were sitting on. Pietro and Wanda look at you with confusion.

"I told you she wouldn't understand." Pietro grumbles and you look at him with indignation.

"Really?" You retort. "Of course I don't understand, Pietro! You've both gone crazy for good!"

"Keep your voice down!" Pietro retorted angrily, getting up as he looked around. No lights had come on downstairs, so no one from the orphanage was awake. "We're doing this for Sokovia."

"Tell me how offering yourself as an experiment for German Nazis helps Sokovia?" You retorted angrily and Pietro sighed impatiently. "I can't believe you two are actually thinking of doing this."

"What do you think will happen next week when we turn eighteen, heh?" Pietro asked aggressively, and you clenched your jaw. "We'll be kicked out of the orphanage, and we'll be on the street. If we didn't have food before, imagine after that!"

"I can get us food!" You exclaim with tear-filled eyes, but Wanda gives a dry laugh.

"You're not going with us." Wanda retorts and you look at her wide-eyed. "You're going to stay here, where you have a roof and a meal, and we're not going to waste the opportunity to change things in Sokovia."

You looked at them incredulously.

"I can't believe you are going to die for your ambition."

Pietro crossed his arms, looking at you seriously. You looked at Wanda, but she looked away to the floor. Shaking your head, you ran your hands through your hair.

"We are doing this for our country." Pietro stated seriously. You disagreed with your head, feeling your throat close up from emotion. But you did not cry. "Some of us are willing to risk whatever it takes."

You give a dry laugh at the provocation. Pietro was only saying that because you stopped participating in the rallies, ever since the protests got more violent and your colleagues started damaging property, stealing, and there were even rumors of fighting that ended in killing.

"Yeah, Piete, you're right." You retorted upset. "You and Wanda want to die in a cell with needles in your arms, lying that this is for Sokovia and not to get revenge for your parents. But don't expect me to stay and watch."

You accuse bitterly before turning and walking off the roof, your tears flowing as you reach the floor below, but you don't stop walking.

//-//

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you raised your head, your gaze shifting from the vegetables at your feet to the girl in front of you. It had been a few days since you had argued with the Maximoffs, and you hadn't spoken to any of them since.

"I came to say goodbye." Wanda said simply, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the ground and shaking some of the dirt on your fingers.

"When are you two leaving?"

"Now."

Ignoring the feeling that has formed in your stomach, you just grumble in agreement, turning your back on Wanda, because you don't want her to see you cry.

"And what's this now?" You retort as you sit on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. "Did you come to tell me that you guys are going to remember me or some sentimental shit?"

Wanda laughs softly, and you hear her footsteps approaching, until she is sitting next to you.

"Well, we've been friends for eight years, I thought I should say goodbye." She says looking forward. You want to swallow the urge to cry, because you don't want them to go. But there is nothing you can do.

"Okay, Wanda. Goodbye then." You retort bitterly, looking down at your hands.

"I wanted to give you something before I go." Wanda adds softly, and you turn your head to her to ask what it is, but as soon as you do, Wanda breaks the distance, her lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss.

You sigh in surprise, and Wanda pulls away.

"S-sorry." She says breathlessly. "I shouldn't..."

But you kiss her again. Properly this time. She is grateful that you hold her around the waist, because then she doesn't fall off the roof when she completely melts from the touch of your tongues together.

You pull away to take a breath, leaving your foreheads together. The urge to tell her not to go anywhere is stuck on the tip of your tongue, and before you can let the words escape, someone is clearing their throat behind you.

"I can't believe you kissed my sister." Pietro complains in a mixed tone of teasing and annoyance. But there is no anger in his gaze. You and Wanda move away embarrassed. "We have to go."

Wanda nods in agreement, and looks at you one last time before standing up, walking over to Pietro.

The boy nods to you before leaving. And when the roof is empty, you let the tears stream down your face.

//-//

As soon as the twins left, you joined the protests again. It kept you distracted now that you were alone. And since you hated so much free time without your friends, you ignored the way that you now always ended up with bruised hands and sore throats after every march.

You got some of your fellow protesters to help you keep an eye on the building that Wanda and Pietro were staying in, and when they stopped coming out of there, you knew something was wrong.

Two weeks without hearing about the twins, you could no longer sleep from worry. You imagined that whatever those men were doing to them would take time. But you also didn't expect that your friends would disappear.

So here you were, sneaking around the abandoned floors to find some clue to where the hell they were. You knew you shouldn't be here. It was their choice, and they knew the consequences. But you kept walking.

Hearing a metal noise, you felt your heart race and quickly hid behind a wall. But no other sound came, so you thought it was safe to move.

Another noise, and a sharp pain in your neck a second later. And then you blacked out.

//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

@mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @HELLOALYCIA // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm

// @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x yn #avengers #avengers imagines #marvel imagines #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Left Behind #pietro maximoff

387 notes · View notes

bibleteachingbyolga · 3 years

Link

You shall not commit adultery. (Exodus 20:14)

The Ten Commandments are rules, but they are not arbitrary, man-made rules. God’s Ten Commandments are big, bold, bright signs guiding us away from the regions of darkness and death, and toward the upland plains of light and life in Christ.

The problem is, in our sin, we hate being told what to do. We think we know better. We look at temptations that cannot make our lives better, and we think, “That would make my life better.” The Ten Commandments point toward Sodom and Gomorrah and warn us, “You don’t want to go there.” Yet we look over at that barren wasteland and think, “That must be our garden of Eden.” And off we go.

This is true of us both as individuals and as the human race. It’s not as though, as the generations of history go by, the hard lessons of the past open our eyes more and more, and make us all wiser. The truth is, we keep stepping on the same landmines over and over again. Every generation tends to think, “The people before us were primitive. We’re smarter now.” Which proves we’re not smarter now. The Bible bluntly declares, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9). Obviously, we still don’t.

So, let’s look at the Ten Commandments with some openness. God wants to help us, by his grace, to die less and live more. Here then is the seventh commandment, “You shall not commit adultery,” with three ways the commandment meets us.

1. The seventh commandment redefines sexual freedom.

The seventh commandment isn’t limited to adultery in a narrow sense — the violation of marriage vows. It’s about sexual integrity within a total way of being human. In their biblical context, all the Ten Commandments together dignify the people of God as the “treasured possession” of the Lord, “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:5–6). In Christ, our God-given privilege is to be a culture of humaneness in a world of brutality, for the display of his glory.

God considers our sexuality a glorious gift. But this one bestowment cannot be the whole of our identity. God has been so good as to honor us with his all-encompassing purpose. Our sexuality, therefore, finds its fulfillment not in our momentary impulses but within all that God created us for: “the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13).

Not many of us believe that anymore! The “truth” discovered by our generation is that freedom lies in remaking ourselves, including our sexuality, in any way we please. In the past — the story goes — we were held down by oppressive ideas of morality. But now we are finally breaking free, allowing our true innocence within, our creative individuality, to be expressed.

That message can sound good. But what if we choose an altered self only then to discover that both our original self and our altered self were dishonest? What if we make costly personal sacrifices to modify our sexuality, only to end up feeling betrayed? Did that “freedom” take us where we really want to go?

Real Sexual Freedom

Jesus understood us better than we understand ourselves. He said, “What comes out of a person is what defiles him” (Mark 7:20). In other words, our inner selves are not bundles of wonderfulness just waiting to be let out. The truth is, our messy inner selves, when unleashed, spread more mess. It’s what Jesus came to forgive and clean up.

Real sexual freedom is not when we give free rein to our sexual feelings, but when we follow Jesus on his path of wisdom. He created us for purposes so lofty only he can take us there. The seventh commandment alerts us to the sexual dimension of our true glory.

And the New Testament tells us more. We are sexual beings, ultimately, to embody the gospel (Ephesians 5:32). But if we refuse to offer our sexuality to Jesus, we trivialize and abuse his gift. It’s like using a smartphone to hammer nails. That just isn’t what a smartphone is for, no matter what we might feel. Hammering nails can only damage a smartphone. And haven’t we all done some damage?

But when we turn to follow Jesus, dedicating all that we are to him, we start growing into a more settled, confident, careful sexuality, with fewer regrets. How could it be otherwise? Jesus was sexual. He obeyed the seventh commandment fully. And he was the most complete, life-giving man ever. Isn’t that the freedom we want? Aren’t we always better off following him?

2. The seventh commandment redirects sexual energy.

By confronting adultery, God blesses our sexual activity within marriage only. Elsewhere in the Bible, God makes his point with a question: “Should your springs be scattered abroad, streams of water in the streets?” (Proverbs 5:16). In other words, “Do you really want to squander and waste your sexuality?”

The seventh commandment redirects and focuses our sexual energy as a positive force for living well, whether married or single. All of us, for Jesus’s sake, can consecrate every kind of intensity God built into us to serve his purposes in this world. We have intellectual powers, emotional capacities, volitional drives, creative imaginations, sexual energies, and more.

We are total human beings, with a lot invested in us. And we will give ourselves to something. If not to Jesus, then to what? And why that? But devoted to Jesus, seeking his kingdom and righteousness first (Matthew 6:33), our scattered lives converge on a worthy, inspiring focal point. We’re finally ready to start creating good in a sinful and suffering world.

For example, rather than merely avoiding porn, why not use all our powers to create, in our dorms and homes and churches, safe places where people addicted to porn can get their freedom back? We can stop playing defense only and start playing offense too. God will be with us. Why not go for it?

3. The seventh commandment redeems sexual folly.

The seventh commandment calls us to faithfulness. One reason we married people took vows is that temptations to unfaithfulness do come our way. But marriage vows are a man and a woman saying, “Before that moment even arrives, I am pre-committing to stay true to you, as long as we both shall live.”

But do we stay true to our vows? Outwardly, maybe — even hopefully. But if outward behavior alone told the truth about us, we might pat ourselves on the back. Jesus said, “I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28). Who of us has stayed true at that deeper level?

The seventh commandment redeems us sexual fools by pointing us to Jesus, who is faithful. He fulfills his vows. He stays true. He pursues his bride, even when we wander from him. He says to us, “I will betroth you to me forever. I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love and in mercy. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness. And you shall know the Lord” (Hosea 2:19–20). He doesn’t despise us sexual sinners. He draws near to us through Christ.

Every one of us can admit to thoughts, feelings, looks, words, and actions that violate — and vandalize — the glories of our God-given sexuality. But our sins do not defeat our Savior. They are the reason he came to us, and he isn’t sorry he got involved. He is glad to receive us again and to revive us with “newness of life” (Romans 6:4). And your newly redeemed sexuality isn’t thanks to your faithfulness but to his. “The Lord is faithful. He will establish you” (2 Thessalonians 3:3).

Sexual Safety for Others

When, trusting him, we step onto the path of Christ and walk there — daily, gently, without drawing attention to ourselves — then something wonderful happens. The seventh commandment within us creates a social environment around us, where no one in our presence has anything to fear. Everyone can relax, open up to Jesus, and grow and rejoice and flourish without distraction or pressure or weirdness.

That’s what it looks like when we become “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” — including our sexuality.

0 notes

mapleleafstrash · 7 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Auston Matthews

A/N: This was inspired by the song ‘Dusk till Dawn’ by Zayn and Sia. So, maybe give it a listen? I know it’s a bit short but this was just me trying to get back into writing. I’m hoping to start updating regularly again. Let me know what you think!

Characters: Auston Matthews

Words: 2,349

Warnings: Language, Mention of Sexual Content

Auston Matthews was a very enigmatic individual.

He was like a jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes one piece could lead you to filling in more gaps, while other times it could confuse you even more. Often you felt as if you were even missing pieces, hindering you from ever solving the mysterious entity that was the top Toronto Maple Leaf.

You weren’t overly close to Auston at first. You ran in the same social circle, so you saw each other often, but you had always kept your distance. You’d heard of the Arizona native’s lackluster reputation. Girl’s, parties, and lots and lots of sex. You weren’t sure what irked you more; the fact that he was presumably in a ‘relationship’ with a model from his home state, or the fact that he treated it like it was nothing.

But despite this, you couldn’t help but be curious, or even attracted to Auston. He was incredibly fit, and he oozed confidence and sex appeal. The way he walked, and the way he talked proved he knew exactly how desired he truly was.

Girls threw themselves towards him, and all you ever did was watch. It truly stunned you how not only the girls threw out all their morals, but how Auston was just as quick to do the same. His teammates usually just laughed it off, but it always left a bad taste in your mouth.

Unfortunately, you were slowly starting to realize it wasn’t because you were ashamed of Auston, but it was because you were jealous. You wanted nothing more than to shove aside any girl that would pursue Auston, and push yourself into his arms instead. Now it was yourself that you were ashamed of. Despite his situation and everything that you had come to know about Auston, you had still inevitably fallen for him.

Over time, your relationship slowly started to flourish. Auston had come to find you as a good confidant. Someone he could confide in, and someone who could support him and offer occasional advice. You had become selfish with that privilege however. You used his most vulnerable moments to get close to him, something you knew was wrong, but couldn’t ever find yourself regretting.

But you were nothing.

You knew that better than anyone.

Even though you spent numerous hours with him, either in person, through texting, or on the phone, you and Auston Matthews were not meant to be. His lifestyle just wasn’t compatible to yours. On top of that, you never imagined he’d pine after you, like the limitless line of girls that seemed to always be at his beckon call.

You and Auston Matthews would never work. You were too different. Held too many secrets, and carried too many sins. You were both hurt, broken in ways that neither of you could fix. But you both accepted each other’s faults.

You were nothing but good friends.

Well, until the night he called you.

With his voice hoarse of tears, Auston’s voice begged you to visit him. Not being able to say no, you complied. With the moon high in the sky, the fifteen-minute car ride across Toronto’s downtown core seemed to stretch on for ages, and the hammer in your chest seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment.

Double checking your hair and makeup, you made sure you looked presentable enough before you exited your vehicle. Entering Auston’s condo’s passcode to gain access to the building, you tapped your foot as you waited for the elevator to reach floor number seventeen.

With a ding, the elevators’ doors separated, giving you entry into the lavishly decorated hallway. Walking to the end of the hall, you knocked twice on Auston’s door. Only a few seconds passed by before Auston had thrown his door open, revealing his blood-shot eyes.

You pouted your lip in sympathy, feeling your chest hurt for the man stood in front of you. “Oh, Auston,” you sighed, as his larger figure enveloped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but melt in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar woody scent, before pulling away and walking into his high-end condo.

Slipping your shoes off, Auston kindly took your coat and hung it up before he grasped your much smaller hand in his and led you into his living room. Taking a seat on the couch, you fell into your typical position. With his one hand in yours, you used your other to slowly comb your way through Auston’s dark locks as he leaned into you.

“What happened?” you questioned softly, as you continued to play with Auston’s hair.

His body shook as he took a deep sigh, “There’s just so much babe, I just couldn’t deal with it alone,”

You nodded, trying to show you understood. “You’re the only one who doesn’t judge, and I just, I don’t know,” he continued, as his body cuddled deeper against yours.

“You don’t know what?” you asked, as you stared down at his form.

Auston’s eyes trailed upwards to meet yours, russet meeting Y/E/C. The dark bags that constantly plagued Auston’s gaze looked even gloomier than you had ever seen before. You could feel his exhaustion, both mentally and physically, by just having him in your arms.

“I always just think of you when I get upset now. Whenever something’s bothering me, I immediately want to call you. Just the sound of your voice calms me down Y/N,” he spoke, causing your cheeks to heat and your lips to fall agape.

Looking away from him, you stared out the large bay window beside you that showed off the vibrant city below. The dark sky had become illuminated from all the lights that shone around the downtown Toronto zone.

“You’ll never be alone Auston,” you said finally, “I’ll always be here, whenever you need me,”

Looking back down, you noticed Auston’s pink lips curve upwards slightly. Holding your breath, you looked back out the window, wanting to avoid his lingering gaze. “So, what happened?”

Auston sighed again, before he let go of your hand and sat up. Sitting next to you, Auston looked down at his hands as he spoke, “Jordyn called, and so did my mother,”

“Oh,” you whispered, immediately becoming rigid at the sound of his ‘girlfriend’s’ name.

“Yeah,” he replied, “neither of them were overly happy with me,”

You could feel the air in the room shift suddenly. You assumed they had called because they had both caught onto Auston and his promiscuous ways. To be honest, you were surprised it had taken this long. Everybody in Toronto knew Auston Matthews was free to hook up with, as long as he would have you.

“Well I couldn’t imagine why,” you glowered, as your distaste of the whole Jordyn situation found its way back into your mouth.

Auston sent you a look, and you sighed, “well I mean, it’s a little understandable. I wouldn’t be too happy with you either,”

“You don’t even know what this is about,” Auston shot back, his voice stern as he sat back a bit, distancing himself from you.

“I bet I could guess,” you challenged, causing the man next to you to send you another glare. “You know nothing about it,”

You laughed, feeling your stomach churn in discomfort as you knew what was about to happen. You weren’t going to hold back this time. “Nothing about what? How you’re supposedly in a relationship with Jordyn, but your sleeping with anyone who throws themselves at you? If I was Jordyn I’d be quite upset, and quite honestly, I have no idea why she’s still putting up with you. It’s been going on for months, and no offense to her, that kind of shows what type of person she is. And your Mom? Well if my son was acting the way you are I’d be extremely disappointed,”

Auston sighed before he rubbed his face with his hands, “this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, I knew you’d be like this,”

“Like what? Honest?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Auston groaned before he stood up, obviously wanting to end the conversation. “I’m not getting into this with you,”

You just shook your head as you stared at his retreating form. You couldn’t believe him. He wanted sympathy for being called out by his mother and his girlfriend.

“Do you even love her?” you suddenly asked, as you sat stiff on the couch.

Auston’s form stopped in it’s place, his back still turned towards you. “Who?” he then dared ask.

You rolled your eyes, and waved your hand before you crossed your arms, “You know what? Never mind. If you can’t even answer me then that just proves my point,”

Auston suddenly whipped around, his face contorted in annoyance, “you know nothing, you know absolute shit all Y/N,”

“I know you’re a coward,” you spoke firmly, as your throat became scratchy and you could feel your emotions boiling over. You were hurt and disappointed because you knew he could be a better person. You were hurt because you cared so much for Auston, yet he still found ways to let you down.

Clicking his tongue, Auston stood planted, his figure rigid as he stared you down. “That’s rich, especially coming from you,”

You clenched your jaw as you stood and walked towards him, going chest to chest with the man you were in love with, “I might not express myself enough, and I might not even know what I really want, but I am no coward. I don’t hide my feelings in the bodies of countless girls who’s names I can’t even recall, just because I’m afraid to let someone in. I don’t lie to a girl who’s obviously head over heels in love with me and cheat on her, because I don’t want the commitment. At least I don’t hurt people when I hide my feelings, unlike you.”

Auston stared down at you, his mouth left agape as his chest moved up and down and he breathed hard. His eyes searched yours as he took your words in. The worst part for Auston, was how he knew you were right, he just didn’t want to admit it.

Even though he was your jigsaw puzzle, you had solved more of him than he ever would’ve liked. He could deny everything, but he knew you wouldn’t believe him. So instead of taking it, he decided to throw it right back at you.

With a devilish smirk, Auston taunted you with his words, “at least I’m not afraid to take what I want,”

Knitting your eyebrows together, you licked your lips, “and how would you know what I want?”

His eyes bore into yours as you felt your body’s temperature rise. Your heart raced fast as you suddenly felt Auston lean down towards you. Taking a breath, you felt your eyes flutter as his lips moved close to yours. But just before they touched, Auston moved back and sent you a smirk, “that’s how I know,”

Your stomach dropped, and instead of reacting, you spun around and headed towards the front door. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you felt betrayed and belittled. You were embarrassed and hurt that Auston would ever do that to you. As you reached up to grab your coat off his hooks, Auston’s hand caught yours instead.

Spinning you around, you gasped when Auston’s lips smacked themselves right onto yours. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him back, but you pulled away instead. With your tears now streaming down your cheeks, you pulled out of Auston’s grasp and held back the urge to slap the man standing in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you cried out, feeling more confused than ever. “Am I just a game to you? Another form of amusement? Huh?”

“Stay with me,” he stated simply.

“What?” you exclaimed, “No!”

“If you love me, stay with me,” he spoke again, causing you to shake your head in disbelief.

“You have no right to ask that of me,” you wept, “nor do you deserve it,”

“I never said I deserved you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” Auston then replied, before he grabbed you and pulled you into him. “Just one night Y/N, let me be yours for one night,”

Taking a sigh, your brain screamed at you to say no. But your heart, your heart begged you to stay. Instead of answering, you caught Auston by surprise when you leaned up and pressed your lips against his. After he recovered quickly, Auston immediately deepened the kiss. As his hands trailed up and down your body, he slowly led you towards his bedroom.

There wasn’t much talking for the rest of the night. As your clothes became discarded across Auston’s hardwood floor, you found yourself underneath the Leafs’ centreman. As his lips touched yours and his hands wandered, your heart fluttered in contentment. You were finally getting what you had always wanted.

His kisses soon stopped and his lips instead latched onto any piece of your skin he could find as he began thrusting into you. The only sounds in the room was his deep groaning and your cries of pleasure. You felt as if your body was on fire, and with each bottomless thrust, you felt closer and closer to the man you were convinced you were in love with. Auston Matthews was making you feel like this. He was making love to you. And you were finally his.

Well, until the sun rose.

You left Auston’s sleeping form alone once you left at dawn the next morning. Like previously stated, you and Auston Matthews would never work. You were too different. Held too many secrets, and carried too many sins. You were both hurt, broken in ways that neither of you could fix. But you both accepted each other’s faults.

And if this is what it took to heal; If this is what it took to be close to him, then so be it.

You’d always be with him, from dusk till dawn.

#auston matthews imagines #auston matthews #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs imagines #nhl fanfiction #my writing

308 notes · View notes