#we cannot just be angry without understanding why. we need to understand the roots of capitalism and how it harms us to dismantle it

[idiotsonlyevent]

i've seen a lot of people mention how dorohedoro explores class through its magic system, but i really think dorohedoro could be interpreted as a very thorough exploration of capitalism and how it affects basically every single aspect of society. (spoilers through the end of the manga under the cut.)

in dorohedoro, capitalism is artificially created through chidaruma's meddling. in creating the sorcerers and allowing them to mistreat humans, chidaruma creates 'capitalism' (aka class inequality, leading to class struggle) in dorohedoro's world. this eventually leads to the creation of hole as an entity, representing the personification of class struggle.

smoke, defined by personality and determining someone's abilities, is a form of capital, both a type of currency and a status symbol. not only is a sorcerer's position determined by how much smoke they can create, but the actual function and 'usefulness' (aka 'power') of the smoke is important as well. those without smoke - both humans and weak sorcerers - are opressed.

there are also powerful sorcerers w certain 'unique' abilities like risu and natsuki who cannot conform to these normative expectations due to the nature of their magic, showing that regardless of how 'powerful' an individual actually is, their performance and adherence to norms is what's considered most important; since they cannot conform, then they are considered failures.

en represents success in capitalism; he is a powerful sorcerer, with a useful ability at a high level of mastery, and he can produce a ton of smoke. not only that, but he literally runs a mega corporation! there are jokes throughout the manga of en's unethical and exploitative practices.

but just because he himself is successful and runs a successful business, doesn't mean that any of 'his family' - and by extension en himself - are 'safe' from the dangers of capitalism; he is simply in less immediate danger than everyone else!

en is revived - allowing the rest of the family to survive - because of fujita, ebisu, and sho: the three family members most frequently deemed 'weak' or 'useless.' sho's magic enables fujita to retrieve en's devil tumor for revival, and sho saves the rest of the family from being dissolved by hole. fujita's 'meek loser' demeanor is what allows him to effectively spy on the cross-eyes, retrieve the devil tumor, and negotiate with tetsujo. ebisu's relationship w kikurage and quick thinking allows her to to enlist dokuga's help to transport en's corpse, completing the revival plotline. and this is not to diminish everyone else's contributions, but to note that especially fujita and ebisu are able to help save the family because of the skills they have developed outisde of magic to survive in a world that does not value them. en's, the family's, and capitalism's survival is reliant on those they deem 'useless'; capitalism's survival is reliant on the labor of marginalized and exploited workers.

dorohedoro's cast is filled with characters who are outcasts and don't 'fit in' with societal expectations, and as the story continues, relationships between humans, sorcerers, and those 'in-between' become even more prominent. despite everything - the hardships, the resentment, the difficult histories everyone has - dorohedoro goes out of its way to consistently affirm friendship and solidarity between sorcerers and humans, regardless of the expectations that society has for them and the roles they're 'expected' to play.

dorohedoro does not have an ending that 'solves inequality' - massive social change can't happen overnight. dorehedoro DOES have a hopeful ending, though. it reaffirms that progress is possible. that in a chaotic, unpredictable, unfair world, there is still peace, friendship, and gyoza - we just need to find it and work for it together.

[oshalittlestar]

saw a lot of TheAc. criticals post from angry/disappointed fans going around my dashboard these past few days -? tumblr algorythm when i catch you - whose recurring (and sometimes only) argument against it, is that Osha is OOC, (mostly starting from ep5) and would never have acted/done this kind of stuff to Sol, betraying the jedi, and mainly that [ep5 to 6] ruined the show.

and okay. okay. if you didnt like the turn and direction the show's taken, i understand, i have my beefs with other series/movies too, so here i'm only trying to share my own perspective on Osha's development, that some may have considered too 'sudden' and 'ooc',

and i completely get why others might see it differently and not be comfortable with it. their feelings are just as valid and legitimate.

but, her being out of character is something i just cannot quite 'accept', if only for the sake of 'rightful' criticism the show may have toward the end:

Osha [and by extension the Acolyte too, but this post is abt Osha] is a brand new character we just been introduced to for the very first time, no old reference, no comics, nothing. and that's something important to note, because in the 4 episodes we had before the 'infamous' ep5, the most we got on Osha's characterization was very 'scarce' in reality, and not really 'set in stone' by the narrative

( contrary to Anakin skywalker, for example: notice the stark difference between how they portrayed him in the 3 prequels movies, and the Clone wars cartoon - 2008. Here, we had 3 long ass movies to get used to Anakin's character, his story, his relationship with Obi Wan and Padme, and how his fall played out, and it was credible. What wasn't though, (beside the fact the cartoon did some blatant damage to how people now view Anidala and Anakin - cough cough sorry cough cough it was my first otp -) was that they heard some..fans didnt like the not 'virile' enough Anakin from AotC/Rots and thought, well, lets take the worst of him in the movie, all his flaws, his dark emotions, and lets mix it to give the fans some kind of jock/popular-aligned/macho-light w/ anger issues/possessive of his girl/action stoic/terminator hero, and nevermind the characterization already etablished by the 3 movies.!)

so, back to Osha in the first 4 eps:

first, from her interaction with her meknek 'bud', Fillik. She's friendly enough - not that much, she didnt went out with her crew/ nor she wanted to share her doings with him (yeah, you can put that on her preferring her privacy/but also: her Jedi's teachings! it did take roots in her very being, her mind and consequently her everyday's life after!), but she knows how to level the mood, and doesnt hesitate to go toward something ..dangerous, if it need to be repared, even if this something is trauma related, like fire...(mmmh. im not saying it's forshadowing, but it was without doubt the first indication that she wasnt at peace with her past - and vice versa, that she's have to confront it)

second, from Yord. it's the first figure from her 'second' past life we/she see. She's a little playful, teasing him, not even a little wary when she sees him again after all this time, and most importantly she seems to trust him from the get go, thats why it hurts her that way! - and it matters, that it was him first, i think. Sol wouldnt have had the same - ah! - detachment, ironically as Yord. Yord, with whom she likely used to train with as a Padawan, and who didnt see her for 6 whole years after she left the Order. so for him to not trust immediately her words, her, it highlights from the start that the connection she had with the Jedi Order is no more, -at the very best holding on a veeery light thread- since she left it behind all these years ago; and even if in the 3 following episodes, Jecki, Sol, Yord (to some extent venestra) believe her, there's always this gap in the back of her/our mind, between her and the Order, that she cant seem to fill...

thirdly, from Sol. do i need to say more?? okay, i will only say that: blind trust. there's nothing this man could do to make Osha dislike him, or acting ill toward him, he held the truth, 'controlled - take this word with a grain of salt, when i say 'controlled', it holds no malicious intent from Sol, - the narrative, for years ! (and here im not saying he was a villain, i am not demonizing him nor am i saying he was an abusive piece of shit at ALL just so we're clear. ik my words may seem cold and harsh) but, indeed, Osha had no special reason to be mad at him, there was this parental/father figure she saw in him, replacing what she had lost on Brendok... ( but the savior hold as much weight to their relation me think.)

and lastly, from the twins/her coven's interactions, and how she (and we, watchers!) interpreted a lot of things 'wrong' because..povs !! To name just a few :

Osha is literally torturing the poor insect: Mae copying her and since Osha is the one calling her out on it, her sister is seen in a bad light by the viewer, since we identify a lot more with Osha, the 'light' twin

Osha getting mad at Mae for taking a sneekpeak at her drawingbook (she needs the space from her sister, who wont give it to her, who's becoming too much, too close, she needs to breathe alone, and it gives the impression that Osha is trapped, in some kind of 'prison')

Osha seeing her sister lighting it on fire just after locking her up, aaaand the fire expanding, fast (we dont see Mae panicking!!!) i'll admit, the show did a good fucking job at trolling us, into thinking Mae was some sort of... 'unhinged' and 'deranged' sister, who set the entire coven on fire 'just' to keep Osha : thats why i also cant get behind these 'ooc' accusations, because, as flawed as the writing might have gotten at some parts - and other things, but i wont dwelve on that here, the Acolyte was, from start to finish, headed in one direction, fully centered on Osha/Mae subversion arcs, and Osha ascension to the dark side: its all the emotional unbalance i mentioned above, in her interactions with Sol, Yord, her family, and how the serie choose to present us with Osha's version of the story first.

and finally, the fact everyone is throwing 'OOC' around to describe Osha's actions is, very mid 'critic' at best, and inherently contradicting the core message of the Acolyte, which is that everyone can do 'evil' and destructive acts in the name of what they may consider the greater good, whether they're justified or not (Sol/Mae parallels go hard in that sense), and inversely the most 'evil' character can be all in all, very honest -Qimir, even back in Khofar didnt really lie did he? - and vulnerable in his presentation: the revealing of his intention toward Osha etc etc..)

aaand im done i dont know if what i wrote made sense (i dont want to cringe so im not rereading this but know that if there're any typos or weird turn of phrase then its normal :)

[grison-in-space]

Hi! Just wanted to say, re:veganism discourse: Excellent Opinions, Great Delivery, Immaculate Vibes 👍 have a great day :)

cheers, ty! it is honestly sort of surprising to me that folks are reading along--as I said to someone else in DMs, I kind of figured that response was mostly something I was putting together in my own head, so I'm pleasantly surprised it's resonating with other people.

I am also just. :| not thrilled to have to be typing up all these "and here's how caring about animal welfare can radicalize you down all these shitty pathways if you add X and Y and Z" because at the end of the day I do think all species are worthy of basic respect; at the end of the day I do think there's nothing fundamentally better about me as a human than any other species. At the end of the day it actually matters a lot to me that my research mice are kept with as much enrichment as I can give them and that their lives and bodies and effort are honored and used wisely. It matters to me that the dogs I teach and the people I teach to train their dogs are learning with minimum stress and maximal confidence. These are all really important planks of my personal code of ethics!

It sucks to feel like I need to sit down and enumerate all the reasons that I think this other perspective of people who start in the same place I do--animals are neat individuals who encompass both the alien and the familiar, which share our lives in a multitude of ways--has developed in such a way that I think it encourages a really toxic way of relating both to animals and ourselves. In general I prefer to focus on places where I can agree with other folks, even if their opinions are different from mine. Someone in the notes brought up "struggle sessions," which are kind of the epitome of toxicity within the left: good values and a desire to help one another get so channeled through perfectionism and backbiting that you wind up with people gathering to literally torture and destroy each other. (Not just in China, either; it keeps happening, cf. Synanon in the US and the dissolution of the Japanese United Red Army.) That's not the kind of way I want to interact with people I'm supposed to be working together with.

So I try not to do that shit too much. I think about the places where people who have values just like mine go down rabbit holes and wind up in bad places, and I try and build barriers so I don't get burned out and angry and dissolve in a puff of flame. (I'm not directly engaging further with this anon for that reason, actually.) But just--aaaaaaaaauuuughhh, ARAs really irritate me because I can see where the roots are, and yet the entire ideology means that there essentially can't be listening. You can see that in the way I'm sitting here going "No, I know what your ideas are, here's why I have rejected them," and still I am getting exhortations to just listen and understand about ARA ideology. No. I did that, the last time there were protests about it in my workplace I went ahead and read the actual detailed IACUC reports released by FOIA that the protestors were shouting about, and bluntly it was a) not convincing and b) exactly the same appeals to emotional knee-jerk reactions and emotional flooding that I decried yesterday. Twenty years I have been checking my responses to these people, and it's never anything different.

I don't think that removing emotion totally from ethics and morals is wise or even possible--we use emotion for decisionmaking and encoding our values, after all, a person without emotion literally cannot decide things--but I do not like or tolerate subcultures that won't leave space to sit, think, and let the first knee-jerk rush of gut response die down. Sometimes, often, I do decide that my gut reaction is right! But I need the space to sit the fuck down and think about it, and if you take that to an ARA space you will mostly get flooded with more emotionally reactive imagery until you agree or leave. And that is coercive.

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay well I don’t know what’s going on but I am really hitting a mental and physical wall this week. I suspect it has to do with the fact that last week he suddenly stopped napping well and, by some strange coincidence, became 1000x fussier in the afternoons and evenings. here is how it is affecting me:

I am so… so tired

I am having trouble thinking especially when he’s been fussing for like three straight hours and my brain has just switched off as some kind of a self-protective mechanism

I am struggling to make decisions about how to handle the fussiness because so tired and also because I don’t really understand what’s going on with him or how to soothe him

I’m getting behind on student work because I no longer have consistent nap windows in which to work during the day

I’m soooo much snappier and more irritable with the dogs especially… like I know they’re understimulated and under-walked right now and that’s why they’re barking so much more and I know I gotta address the root causes instead of getting angry with them for reacting in a very normal way to feeling stir crazy. but also sometimes when they wake the boy up from one of his suddenly rare naps or otherwise elevate the noise level in the house I am like I NEED you to shut up. I love you so much and I know it’s my fault you’re bored but I NEED the noise to stop.

I am not eating well because the fussing often starts around lunch time and I just lose track of where I am in the day and forget to eat. and then by the time I remember it’s too late to do anything but microwave something fast and kinda shitty

I cannot change the fussiness. he is having some big sleep changes and maybe a growth spurt or maybe he is just more alert to the world now and it’s harder to chill out. I pray that it is just a phase we are going through (where is my sweet chill baby of just a week ago) and I will also remind myself that so many things are going well. but what can I do to make this period more survivable for myself.

try to go to bed by 9:15 every night to maximize the sleep I’m getting even if it’s fragmented sleep (hopefully that won’t last much longer as he adjusts to not being in the swaddle)

consider asking his sitter to come a third day in the week for a while. use that time to catch up on student work (so I feel less behind and don’t have that additional layer of stress) but also use it to walk the dogs, cook, etc. and tend to other needs. I’m stressed about doing this because money 🫠 but I really need it and I also really need a break when he’s at peak fussiness levels.

scale back again. when I was feeling most overwhelmed before (around 6 weeks? idk it’s all a fever dream) I just focused on really, really scaling back the activities and outings so I could focus on feeding him and getting him to take good naps. I think I am trying to do too much now and I need to give myself permission to say no to things more and to consider the day a win if I just take care of the basics.

put headphones in when he’s fussing. I really need to stop feeling guilty about this and just do it. I will be so much better equipped to soothe/rock/bounce him if I’m not also listening to the nonstop lowgrade crying. it will not hurt him if I don’t listen to the crying. I can tend to his needs without listening to the crying.

try to give myself some grace. I cried a bunch tonight because he was so so tough to deal with this evening and I was feeling so maxed out. but then I was lying on my bed with him propped up against my legs facing me and he started playing his favorite “game” where he puts his feet in his little footie pajamas all over my face and chortles delightedly at my pretend-outraged reaction and it was soooo sweet and I was just like I love you so much 😭 I wish you felt better this week because then I would feel better too and more capable of being present with you. I feel like when he’s fussing soooo much it’s just so hard for us to have those sweet silly connections because we’re both so miserable and neither of us knows how to fix it. it’s tough! it’s tough. but we will get through this and I absolutely refuse to have any “am I a bad parent???” angsty feelings about this. I am a great parent and I am doing the best I can coping with this very challenging week. I cannot soothe him very well because he has a lot going on inside of him right now but I can make him laugh really hard by letting him put his little feet all over my face and that means I gave him at least one small moment of joy today. it’s enough! it’s enough. we will weather this.

[beevean]

I don't watch Hazbin Hotel but I seem to understand that some who've watched it and NFCV hate Valentino with a passion yet simp for Lenore

Fancy that huh?

Ah, my dear friend, but it's obvious why :)

Can't exactly jerk off to a moth man, can you? (well, I suppose you can, but he's ehhhhh less conventionally attractive than a cute redhead woman)

But it's not only that:

When Valentino abuses Angel, it's a horrifying scene. There's no music. There's nothing that can distract you from the realism. The sexual undertones (Angel covering up with his vest, Valentino trailing his fingers up his chest) are subtle yet sickening. You feel Angel's fear and powerlessness (helps that the voice direction is perfect), and root for him because we know him and know he did nothing to deserve this and he only wants to protect Charlie despite his terror (look! A character motive!). Furthermore, we learn here that Valentino owns Angel's soul, in a contract that he signed apparently willingly, judging by the little heart: he blames himself, but the show never blames him for falling into Valentino's trap. Nor does it blame him when later on, in Poison, we see flashbacks of Angel dancing with Valentino with a smile even as he's getting slammed into the ground, and jumping into his arms: it's not a downplaying of the abuse going on, because the implication is that maybe in the past he loved him, but now he's trapped and hurting, because Valentino took advantage of the power imbalance. It makes it all the more satisfying when Angel tells him to fuck off.

I don't think I need to tell you that this is the complete opposite of the disgusting shit NFCV pulls with Lenore and Hector. The show blames him for being stupid. You cannot root for Hector because he has nothing to root for, he's a shell of a character with no strength and no motivations, and there's no reason for you to care about what happens to him. It glorifies Lenore for being so cunning and manipulative - sure she's evil, but she's "cool" about it. The sexual abuse is played for straight titillation, from her licking his face after she beat him into unconciousness to the "walkies" to the rape by deception. Later on, while Hector does help destroy Lenore's life, he does so without any malice or resentment in his heart: it wasn't revenge against her, because he loves her, after all. How couldn't he? She's actually nice deep down. Everything she did was for his own good :) he just needed to understand it (off-screen) :) and this is not portrayed as him being a broken man who cannot understand love due to a life that was nothing but abuse, no no no we are meant to find them cute and tragic. Hector's character development culminates not with him standing up to the people who broke him, but him peacefully letting his abuser die on her own terms, as if the issue was that he was selfish and needed to learn to let go.

It's as if HH justified Valentino by saying that well, Angel is a famous porn star thanks to him, and clearly he enjoys the sex and drugs, so what has he to complain about?

Oh but tell me more about how Poison is rape apologism because Angel signs a catchy pop song about his misery in Valentino's grasp. Tell me how his dance interplayed with his abuse is offensive representation of trauma. Where the fuck were all of you when Lenore literally brushed off her raping with "you were having fun" and Hector let her do that?

Go fuck yourselves. I'm not going to be polite about it. This double standard makes me actively angry.

[manyofnine]

"you gotta forgive yourself for the days that you can't perform"

But i'm not a three-year old. An off day is not without consequences.

"if you don't go on, even though you want to... it means that you cannot go on. not like this."

But i need to go on. I can't continue to rely on other people's sympathies and empathy and love for me to cover my shit. I can't do that to them.

"if people offer to help you out of their own accord, it means the want to help you. if people want to help you, you are worthy of that help."

But i do not want to be someone people have to help! I don't want to be someone who can't do anything on their own.

"not being able to do everything does not mean being unable to do anything. you can do alot. forgive yourself for what you can't do."

But, i can do this! I've done it yesterday! And the day before! And the day before that! Why can't i do it today?

"it sound like you did a lot this last week. when did you take a day of rest?"

I can't afford a day of rest.

"you're dodging the question."

I can't remember my last actual restful day.

"then today is your brain cashing in. Forgive yourself, allow this day of rest and tomorrow you will be able to go on again."

Take it slow because we got little time?

"you know the mantra."

I hate talking to you like this.

"why?"

Because I could talk to you for real if i was able to pick up my phone and face a bit of disappointment from your secretary.

"it's not my secretary or her opinion you're afraid of. you worry that i'll show empathy and understanding to your situation. and you're still punishing yourself by avoiding situations like this."

Let's talk about something else.

"you know that you're doing the best you can, right? when people tell you that they are proud of you... they mean it. you are so strong."

I want to go home.

"home doesn't exist yet. you have to build it."

Real You never understood that.

"i know."

Real You would ask me what is preventing me from going there.

"you know the answer already. i don't need to ask that question."

I really don't? What would the answer be?

"..."

What do you mean- I can't go home because it doesn't exist yet. Because I- I have never taken the steps to build it.

"too afraid of failing to try. how does it feel?"

Like the worst kind of helplessness.

"does that make you angry or are you grieving already?"

Why should I be grieving, i haven't lost anything yet. I haven't lost it yet.

"you're already halfway done grieving you cat that hasn't died yet. you're making peace with the end of a friendship that hasn't started fraying yet. you're done grieving the death of your parents even though they still send you money each month. when you think you're going to lose something you sprint towards acceptance before even considering a fight and then you wonder why you have no motivation to do so."

Fuck you.

"how does this make you feel?"

Angry. I'm angry.

"you always are. how does this make you feel?"

Like you don't know shit.

"what am i missing from my analysis?"

I'm not the quitting kind. I don't quit.

"but you don't fight either. you just sit down and stop responding until it's over."

I don't quit.

"try fighting. try losing. for once take the grief after the loss."

You told me to forgive myself. How do i forgive without acceptance? How do i forgive without lowering my expectations?

"you don't need to accept your inabilities. you need to understand where they are coming from. and then you need to weed out the roots of the matter. stop those shortterm solutions. stop shelving you problems for later dates."

I don't understand. I can't do both.

"both what?"

I can't start on my problems because i'm, well, unable to work on them. Because i'm unable to do anything right now.

And if i forgive myself for that, i can only do so with acceptance. So of course i need to grieve so i'm ready for the coming consequences. I bend so i don't break!

"if you bend too often, for too long, you grow that way. when you try to get up again, that's when you'll break."

So i'm stuck being like this? Forever? Bound to do stupid shit that makes everything harder for everyone around me?

"of course not. but there is a point where you have to decide which way to grow."

It's too late for me isn't it? What do i do now?

"the fucking acceptance again? you're young, your life wants for living. and you're sitting here, already deciding it's going to suck forever."

I can only take my experience so far as fact.

"don't."

How?

"put on some music, walk a kilometer or two and then tell me again how much your life sucks."

Fuck you.

"be glad i'm not the Real Me, such behavior wouldn't fly."

I wouldn't be as honest if you were.

[etherside]

i think its less about how normal it is for proximity and access looking so different nowadays

whether through follower or mutual friend or casual run in

what i realize it is deeply rooted in my feelings of safety, that access looking different because of the modern age causes safety to look different

when someone violates you whether it is emotional or physical

and they continue to violate your "no" and your "consent" and space

knowing i cut them off without telling them in detail the damage done that to this day i feel deeply unsafe because the potential access to me. i said nothing because of their threats of harm. i said nothing because of what they could have done to themselves and that they involved me in it through their notes

is it reasonable to believe someone may go great lengths to come near you when even you clearly communicate you do not want to talk to them *in text*, and they *still* leave notes afterwards as if you wanted to receive them professing their undying love?

knowing how someone said they wanted to be with you forever but feeling like they didn't really know you

so many friends and family telling me how wrong it was and i needed to leave immediately, i am grateful how many people came up and told me, seeing how it troubled me

i am no longer angry anymore but i am still troubled and feel unsafe in close proximity to my ex

access looks different now but knowing so i am doing my best to not diminish myself but also assert myself within my locus of control

because how much i felt like i was used or how much i let them treat me that way as i didn't know better and couldn't stand up for myself

now i realize how much they kept taking and taking and it wasn't enough. when my issues came up, i took so much action into healing myself and attending to my and their needs to the point of coddling them and forgetting myself. yet exerting understanding we were both broken and trying, though coming the conclusion this person was not good for me or fulfilled me. bottom line, unable to respect me wholly.

i forgive them for myself and i don't need their apology nor do i want it. i don't need them to be responsible to me for the hurt that was caused. even after i expressed my feelings, it was continually disrespected. i just want to heal in peace, where i can at least respect myself and for that to be respected.

i can be understanding but we all have a responsibility for our baggage and must be accountable for the impact we cause. we all choose to act. we are responsible in its translation and potential violence. we are responsible for the ugly that our ugliness causes. why is it so hard for people to take their hands off of things when people have expressed to "no" or "i feel hurt"? we must protect others from our ugliness, but we must shine light to it without violence and shame.

we must teach each other how to care for each other, but how can that be possible if we cannot listen to each other? when a "no" still ignored, dismissed, bended, or pushed through. how can i trust a listener who doesn't find it reasonable to listen? when my own voice even when spoke into the tangible world is silent to them? i am there, but i am also not.

realizing i was with someone who was abusive, or had these tendencies. i know i am capable of holding such ugliness though i no longer tolerate it as i was taught to.

that i broke up with this person in the most graciously and made a choice within my principles, i do not regret and it was the biggest act of self-respect within that relationship. but i no longer want to be quiet about this damage i am still healing from, closing in a year later.

pray i will be healed one day from this damage

[littlemisscountingstars]

Bits from "The Five People You Meet in Heaven"

“Scenery without solace is meaningless.”

1. There are no random acts. We are all connected. You can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind.

2. Fairness does not govern life and death. If it did, no good person would ever die young.

3. The human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn’t just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed.

4. Strangers are just family you have yet to come to know.

5. “He guessed it was the right lift but the wrong pair of arms.”

6. “It’s the thinking that gets you killed.”

7. SACRIFICE. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you’re not really losing it. You’re just passing it on to someone else.

8. “All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.”

9. “All parents damage their children. This was their life together. Neglect. Violence. Silence.”

10. “Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them- a mother’s approval, a father’s nod- are covered by moments of their own accomplishments.”

11. “People don’t die because of loyalty.” “They don’t? Religion? Government? Are we not loyal to such things, sometimes to the death?”

12. Which was worse when left unexplained: a life or a death?

13. “Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves. Forgive, Edward. Forgive.”

14. No one is born with anger. And when we die, the soul is freed of it. But now, here, in order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did, and why you no longer need to feel it.”

15. “People say they “find” love, as if it were an object hidden by a rock. But love takes many forms, and it is never the same for any man and woman. What people find then is a “certain” love. And Eddie found a certain love with Marguerite, a grateful love, a deep but quiet love, one that he knew, above all else, was irreplaceable.”

16. “Love, like rain, can nourish from above, drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes, under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots, keeping itself alive.”

17. Lost love is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it. Life has to end. Love doesn’t.

18. “Silence is worse when you know it won’t be broken.”

[fitmanagement]

Mastering the Art of Customer Service in the Modern Fitness Industry

As the fitness industry continues to evolve, so do the expectations of gym-goers. Providing top-notch customer service is no longer just about answering questions; it’s about navigating a complex web of customer demands and ensuring their satisfaction. In this article, we delve into the six trickiest customer service challenges faced by gym owners and provide effective solutions to conquer them.

Why Customer Service Challenges are Different Today

Customer service has always been about meeting customer expectations, but today’s gym-goers have raised the bar. They demand faster service, flawless handling, and tangible rewards for their loyalty. Failing to meet these expectations can result in a dissatisfied customer, which is akin to a ticking time bomb for your gym’s reputation and success.

6 Biggest Customer Service Challenges and How to Solve Them

1. Having No Answer To A Customer’s Question

Imagine a gym member asking about the status of their delayed package of nutritional supplements. You may not have an immediate answer, but responding with “I don’t know” won’t cut it. Instead:

Acknowledge the question: Let the customer know you’ve heard their concern.

Request time: Ask for a little time to find an accurate answer.

Follow up: Get back to the customer as soon as you have the necessary information.

This approach shows your commitment to their satisfaction and professionalism in handling their query.

2. Transferring Customer Calls

Nobody likes being bounced around between departments or left waiting in voicemail purgatory. If transferring a call is necessary:

Explain the transfer: Let the customer know why it’s beneficial for them.

Minimize wait times: Ensure the transition is swift to avoid frustration.

Clear communication can make this process less irritating for customers.

3. Handling Angry Customers

Dealing with an irate gym member can be challenging, but getting defensive or matching their anger is counterproductive. Instead, employ the “HEARD” technique:

Hear: Listen to their concerns without interruptions.

Empathize: Show understanding and empathy.

Apologize: Offer apologies, even if the gym isn’t at fault.

Resolve: Seek solutions and engage the customer in the process.

Diagnose: Identify the root cause and prevent future occurrences.

This approach, borrowed from Disney, can turn a negative experience into a positive one.

4. Customer Wants A Discount You Cannot Afford

Discounts can be a double-edged sword, potentially devaluing your brand. When refusing a discount request:

Explain politely: Clarify why the gym can’t offer a discount.

Highlight value: Emphasize the benefits of your services.

This way, you maintain your brand’s integrity while valuing the customer’s interest.

5. Serving Multiple Customers

Managing several gym members simultaneously can be a juggling act. Effective time management is key:

Time your pauses: If you need to put one customer on hold, explain the situation and aim for a quick resolution.

Avoid mentioning other customers: It’s not courteous, and it’s best to keep them informed.

Balancing the needs of multiple customers requires finesse and courtesy.

6. A Crisis or Outage

Emergencies, such as power outages or security breaches, can be catastrophic. Having a crisis management plan is crucial:

Prepare in advance: Ensure your staff knows their roles during crises.

Apologize and reassure: Express empathy and provide regular updates.

Post-mortem: After resolving the issue, publish a post-mortem to reassure customers.

Handling crises with transparency and professionalism can help maintain customer trust.

Before You Go

Statistics indicate that over 80% of customers switch to competitors after experiencing poor customer service. As a gym owner, you can’t afford to let this happen. Addressing these customer service challenges head-on is your gateway to building a successful gym business with a loyal customer base. Armed with these solutions, you’re ready to elevate your gym’s customer service experience and ensure your members keep coming back for more.

In the ever-evolving landscape of the fitness industry, ensuring your staff is equipped to handle these customer service challenges is paramount. This is where Fitness Management & Consulting comes into play. Our expertise lies in providing comprehensive staff training programs tailored to the unique needs of your gym. From honing communication skills to mastering crisis management, our experienced consultants will empower your team to navigate these challenges with finesse, creating a seamless and satisfying experience for your valued members. With the right training and support, your gym can stand out as a beacon of exceptional customer service in the fitness world, fostering lasting relationships and ensuring the success of your business. Contact FMC here.

Click here for more details on financing options or call 214-629-7223 or email jthomas@fmconsulting.net for more information. Or, apply now.

Unlock Your Gyms Full Potential with the Gym Success Blueprint! Get Your Copy Now!

An Outsourced CEO, Turnaround Expert and Author, Jim Thomas is the founder and president of Fitness Management USA Inc., a management consulting, turnaround, financing  and brokerage firm specializing in the gym and sports industry. With more than 25 years of experience owning, operating and managing clubs of all sizes, Thomas lectures and delivers seminars, webinars and workshops across the globe on the practical skills required to successfully overcome obscurity, improve sales, build teamwork and market fitness programs and products. Visit his Web site at: www.fmconsulting.net or www.youtube.com/gymconsultant.

[gaalifreeindia]

The Danger of Anger

A few months ago, there was the extremely tragic and distressing news of an Indore college principal succumbing to severe burn injuries after being set on fire by a student, and for the flimsiest of reasons. To be sure, absolutely no reason can ever justify such a heinous crime, but it got me thinking: Such things don’t just happen on the spur of the moment. There must be a deeper, more rooted monstrousness that has been allowed to nurture and grow over a period of time.

From my own experience, watching different people over the years behave in unacceptable ways, I feel it emerges from an inability to control one’s anger – or being allowed to get away with it over years and even decades. Anger gone unchecked, feeds off itself until it becomes so monstrous, that even the person themselves cannot rein it in.

To various degrees, this is happening in every possible situation and in everyday life. Whether in the home, on the street, in educational institutions, at the place of work, even on the sports field. The fact is, though, that much of it begins in the home – or is allowed to, simply because people who have the power to, or at the very least should… fail to act.

Aggression first manifests itself in domestic violence – primarily directed at women and children. Then the monster grows – getting away with every subsequent incident. Run-ins with playmates, friends, neighbours, colleagues and of course strangers. Road rage is now such a big thing – it’s frightening!

But why point out the problems without offering a solution – or at least giving it a shot. The solution lies with both, the person with the anger problem, and with those around them who have some degree of influence.

The first step is accepting that one has an anger or aggression problem; or for someone close to that person to bring it to their notice. Then one needs to seek help in managing this anger and aggression. There are resources for anger management these days. But it may also help to do a bit of soul searching. Every time one feels angry – even small incidents – step back and try to understand the issue logically. Was there another way to react or handle the situation? A more mature way? There always is!

Another reason is that we’ve lost our cultural roots. Interacting with people and especially elders in a reverent and respectful way was very much a part of our cultural ethos. Why can’t we bring that back? Why are human values getting degraded by the day?

It’s the education system that is supposed to mould children into good, respectful human beings and model citizens of tomorrow. Distressingly, it is becoming increasingly difficult to attract people to this noble profession. Sadly, such vile incidents only serve to scare the few who are willing to make this amazing sacrifice.

We owe too much to our teachers and principals. Let’s bring respect and reverence back into our schools, colleges and campuses. It must begin with controlling our anger and aggression.

                                                                            - Milton Frank

[daloy-politsey]

On my first date with Yehoram, I offered him a sip of my prosecco at the hip Tel Aviv bar I had brought him to. He tensed, paused and quietly replied, “I’m not sure if I can. I don’t know if it’s kosher.” I immediately recognized his confession for what it was: a coming-out. I told him that it’s fine, that we can ask the waitress if the wine has a certification, that I grew up in an observant family too. He finally breathed.

I already knew that Yehoram is female-to-male transgender. In fact, it was the only thing written on his dating profile. Over the course of our year-long relationship, and then our seamless transition into friendship late last year, he explained to me that the queer community will often accept that he is trans but not that he is religious. But the same is not always necessarily true of the religious community – and particularly of his family.

There are many preconceptions about his family. The matriarch Mazal, 74, and patriarch Yehiel, 78, were both born in Sana’a, Yemen, and immigrated to the newly-declared State of Israel in early childhood. (Haaretz is honoring their request not to publish the family name.) They are visibly Haredi: Mazal wears long skirts and tucks her hair into modest black caps; Yehiel trims his salt-and-pepper beard, and wears a uniform of crisp dress shirts, black pants and a black velvet kippa.

They speak with heavy Yemenite accents – which have been at least partially adopted by their seven children – and their speech is seasoned with religious aphorisms and allusions. People are surprised to learn that Yehoram, 32, is accepted and supported by his parents, to a degree that is rare even in the secular homes of Tel Aviv.

At their kitchen table in a town near Rehovot, central Israel, Mazal has set out water, juice and a homemade cake. Yehiel has set down a voice recorder of his own, to make sure he isn’t misrepresented. They have a story to tell about being the parents of a trans son, and they have decided that I am allowed to tell it.

Before we begin the interview, both are apprehensive. After much deliberation, they decide that I can publish their names but not their images. Yehiel is a respected figure in religious circles: he serves as his synagogue’s main cantor on the High Holy Days, is a mezuzah scribe and kashrut supervisor for the Chief Rabbinate. He spends his free time poring over religious texts, with Yehoram often alongside him. His son no longer attends the local synagogue in which his father plays so large a role; the congregation knew him before his transition, and it could hurt his family’s reputation.

If someone goes to the rabbi with this article in hand and tells Yehiel that he’s out of the fold, “at our age, there’s no fight left. There’s nothing you can do,” he says. “It would destroy me.” When he thinks I cannot hear him, he says that he suspects that one of his contracts as a kashrut supervisor was not renewed for this exact reason – because of his unconventional family.

But if getting his story out shows religious parents that they can embrace their own LGBTQ children, he wants it published. “I want to help,” he says.

Mazal chimes in. “Both of us do. You hear these stories about parents throwing their children out ... I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how you throw out your child.”

She recounts going to the shivah of a friend of Yehoram’s – the transgender queer activist DanVeg, who took her own life in 2016.  “I saw them all in the living room, with their heads on each other’s shoulders. I started to cry. I wanted to hug them all, to go one by one. And they came to me; they saw the look in my eye. There was a man who had become a woman, who came to hug me. And a young girl, and more. I couldn’t take it,” she says, wiping away tears that are coming faster and faster. “More and more of them told us that they’re alone, abandoned by their parents. How can you throw out your child? The child of a human being!”

I get up to hug her, and she cries into my back: “Why? Why would you throw your child out of your house? Why?”

They say they never suspected that Yehoram was different before he came out to them, if not unconventionally, as queer at the age of 18, some 14 years ago.

He did not employ the usual lexicon: “I told them, this is how I am – I’m wearing pants from now on and I’m not interested in men,” he recounts. In Yehoram’s absence, Yehiel recalls it as well. Yehoram sat his parents down in the living room and said his piece, and then asked his parents for a response.

“We got up immediately, as if it were coordinated,” Yehiel says. “We hugged [him] from both directions … and we told [him], ‘You have nothing to be afraid of, no need to worry. You’re our daughter, it doesn’t matter what you do.’” Yehoram then opened his backpack to show a couple days’ clothes inside. “If you didn’t accept me, I would have killed myself,” he told his parents.

From there, they worked to make sure that their son wouldn’t, for one moment, forget that he is loved and cared for. They also made sure that he could live a normal life. “It was important that he be self-sufficient, have a respectable career, be able to build a life without us,” Yehiel explains. “Every day, I’m afraid that he won’t be here. I think about how he can build his life so he’s not dependent on anyone else.”

Mazal and Yehiel tend to refer to Yehoram with female pronouns when he isn’t in the room, and occasionally slip into them when he is. To her, Mazal says, he will always be their daughter. “It’s hard for me,” Yehiel concurs. “[He] should be patient.”

Mazal calls him by his chosen name – an anagram of his birth name – to make him happy. “And to connect with [him] – what can you do? We love [him] either way. [He’s] our daughter.”

There have been difficulties in accepting him along the way, she concedes. But like many parents of LGBTQ children, they are mainly rooted in concerns that he will be able to live a safe, fulfilling life.

No one should mistake their acceptance for liberalism – they repeatedly note that the Pride Parades, with their scanty clothes and glitter, are unsightly. “The left brings it in,” Mazal says. “Non-Jews from abroad, with all their tattoos and whatnot.” However, their embrace of their transgender son and the many queer people who have passed through their doors does not come in spite of their firm religious beliefs, but is the direct result of them.

Yehiel, a lifelong religious scholar, has poured over sources biblical, talmudic, rabbinic and kabbalistic. The kabbalistic concept of the soul provides a simple explanation for the transgender phenomenon, he believes.

“We have the knowledge that Jewish souls can be reincarnated into anything – into non-Jewish families, into animals, even into food,” Yehiel explains. “We were taught that the soul of a man can be reincarnated into a woman, in order to remedy something he had done in a past life.”

When Mazal was pregnant with Yehoram, she had already given birth to five daughters and was hoping for a son. The couple went to a respected rabbi, who told them to buy a bottle of wine for the circumcision ceremony and to come see him 40 days into the pregnancy. Yehiel says that when the time came, it was hard to get hold of the rabbi to schedule an appointment, and they were only able to see him eight months in. The rabbi gave them the blessing regardless.

“The body was already formed female,” Yehiel says, but the prayers had worked: “The soul was male.”

And there is scripture to back up the existence of LGBTQ people within Judaism. “You’re not different, you’re not strange,” Yehiel says. “This [phenomenon] has always existed. It’s in the Torah, and it’s in the mystical sources.” Mazal adds: “It’s a shame that we don’t lay this out these days, to have everything written up and organized to say that it’s all there in scripture.”

At 26, Yehoram told his parents he was transitioning. He underwent top surgery – a double mastectomy – without informing them. “On the one hand, it hurt us,” Yehiel admits. “For us, it meant that’s it – it’s sealed. If he’d told us in advance, we would have told him to wait. Maybe the situation would change.”

But what’s done is done, Mazal says. “What hurt me is that [he] underwent the surgery and I wasn’t there. That ate at me.”

Both loudly agree that the important thing is that he is happy and healthy. “We hope just for success – and thank God there are many successes, so everything is alright,” she says. “I’m just waiting for children,” she laughs.

Yehoram, who has taken a seat next to her, smirks. Mazal jokes about him coming home pregnant one day. He’s slightly irked, but jokes along. A couple of years ago, he froze his eggs through Ichilov Hospital’s fertility clinic for transgender men, and hopes to one day become a father, no matter how he has to do it. His parents strongly supported the move. They have 31 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

Yehoram asks a question of his own: Whether his parents want to talk about the time they took him to an esteemed rabbi in Tel Aviv, after he came out at 18.

“After he told us everything, we consulted with a rabbi,” Yehiel relays. “I remember that he got angry and yelled at him. I didn’t like that. He hurt him, and I couldn’t stay any longer, so we left.”

“The rabbi told me that I had lapsed, deteriorated in my spirituality,” Yehoram explains. It’s clear that he remembers it vividly. “That I had fallen.”

After that, the rabbi told him to leave the room, and for his parents to stay. “I heard shouting, and then you left the room,” he says to his parents. “You didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything. We were quiet all the way home.”

No one discussed the incident for days after, and they barely spoke at all. After three days, Yehoram says, he asked his mother what had happened after the rabbi told him to leave the room.

“I didn’t know what happened, I assumed the worst. You told me that [Dad] got very angry and told [the rabbi], ‘How dare you hurt and belittle a Jewish soul?’ You said you had to give him however much money, and that you just threw a small bill onto the table and left the room,” Yehoram tells his mother. “It really surprised me. I thought you were on his side, and then I suddenly heard that you were on mine.”

When he is with us in the room, Yehoram sometimes seems agitated by his parents’ insistence that their acceptance has always been complete. He tries to direct them toward other instances, other rabbis they don’t or won’t recall. It is often difficult for parents to acknowledge the pain or discomfort that their actions caused their children, even if they were accidental. Mazal brings out a picture from Yehoram’s bat mitzvah, of them embracing the young girl he was. They look almost exactly the same, 20 years later, beaming. Young Yehoram, in a long-sleeved, high-necked dress, is smiling, but the smile does not reach his eyes.

Elisha Alexander, co-CEO and founder of the transgender advocacy and information organization Ma’avarim, says that even though Yehiel and Mazal’s acceptance of their son may seem unique, he would like to think it’s more common than we assume.

“There are religious and even ultra-Orthodox people who accept their trans family members, but it’s usually in secret. The main problem in these communities is the leadership,” he says.

But if more of them realized that embracing their children was a matter of pikuach nefesh – the Jewish concept that saving a life supersedes most religious commandments and norms – they would be more inclined to find a halakhic solution to integrating transgender people into these communities.

There is also a misconception that acceptance is a binary choice: That any parent who does not kick their transgender child out of the house or disown them has, by default, accepted them. “This could not be further from the truth,” Alexander says. “Accepting your child means accepting every aspect inherent to them, including their gender identity, pronouns and so on.”

When parents refuse to do so, their child may seek acceptance elsewhere. He adds that studies show that acceptance within the family drastically reduces the suicide rate among transgender people.

Knowing this, Yehiel says that any parent in his position must continue loving and supporting their child. “This child can fall,” he says. He does not mention it, but he is aware of the stories and statistics: trans youth who find themselves on the street face high rates of abuse and exploitation. Thirty to 50 percent of transgender teens report suicidal thoughts and behaviors – a rate three times higher than for teens overall. But that figure falls to 4 percent when families accept and embrace them, says Sarit Ben Shimol, manager of the Lioness Alliance for families and transgender children and teenagers.

Yehiel adds that it is the duty of parents to give children the support they need to thrive. “As a parent, it is your responsibility to tell your child: You are my child and you are my life. My life depends on you. Watch over me so that I can watch over you,” he says.

As we get up from our seats, Yehiel looks at me for a moment and asks, “If it’s not too personal – since we already opened up the topic – what is your relationship like with your parents?”

I tell them that I talk to my parents, and especially my mother, almost every day. That it was difficult for them to come to terms with my sexual orientation as well, and that sometimes I have an inkling that it still is, even if they won’t say it outright. But I try to be patient.

“Good,” Mazal says. “It’s important to be patient – they’re learning too.” She embraces me again, and Yehiel rests a hand on my shoulder. They invite me to come again, whenever I like. “After all, you’re like our daughter, too.”

[zandracourt]

Some thoughts about Episode 2x12 of 911 Lone Star and subject of physical abuse. I’ll put behind the cut for those who don’t want to read:

I work in the field of abuse of adults and one of the hardest realities of my job is that I have to hold the word “abuse” lightly because the spectrum of what is experienced as abuse by the parties involved is wide, for many factors, including enculturation, personal history, physiological make-up, emotional maturity/intelligence, and mental health. There are legal definitions of what constitutes abuse/assault in every jurisdiction and there is the basic understanding of power/control and the role that plays in the relationship. Even the word “healthy” when it comes to relationships is difficult to define because what I regard as “healthy” is not something someone else considers valuable enough to work on or worth separating from their partner over. It is surprisingly personal and while I have laws that I enforce, the reality is that even when an incident meets the legal criteria, if the victim says it wasn’t abusive to them, there is not much we can do other than to keep offering the victim that there is another way to love and be loved.

That said, I’ve seen a lot of posts of fans very upset about TK’s shoving Carlos when he was angry. And I am not here to say that interpretation is wrong. However, I do understand why the writers and actors would have created that scene and not consider it all that problematic. Again, not justifying, simply offering some thoughts from someone who works in this field. These are my own and I know other investigators in my own unit who would think differently, so it is just one perspective. Also, I am not a sworn officer. I enforce civil law, not criminal.

1) I don’t believe TK’s reaction is out of character. When he is emotionally compromised, he self-harms. He does that with substances and we have seen him seek out fights (the bar which leads to the police station scene and with Judd, both S1) when he is upset. I read his pushing Carlos as self harm over abuse because his actions betray that he is trying to get Carlos to *hit him*. Which Carlos, being a police officer who is trained to remain calm (they are supposed to be anyway), responded by restraining TK. TK’s response is then not to calm down but to get more upset and tell him to leave because TK is *not getting the emotional release that he wants* which is physical pain. He wants to feel physical pain to mask his emotional pain but Carlos won’t participate in that. So this isn’t abuse in the typical way we understand it. It is manipulation on TK’s part and unhealthy as hell, but is actually in keeping with what TK does when he’s hurting emotionally.

2) This scene is highly-feminine coded. There are hundreds of examples in tv/movies where a woman is upset and she beats her fists against a man’s chest (who is almost never who she is actually upset with/about) and the man endures it for a bit and then restrains her until she calms down. We see it all the time and while also problematic, generally we don’t object to it because we view the woman as not being able to cause the man any real harm or pain. Women get away with a LOT of domestic abuse because of this bias. So given that trope, it is very possible that the writers and actors viewed this scene through that same bias. That TK isn’t really hurting Carlos because he is bigger and more muscular than TK. Again, not great, but something to consider when evaluating the choices made by the creators of the art in question.

3) The Fight or Flight response is so deeply ingrained, it is very difficult to stop. When I enter someone’s home as part of my work, I am there to investigate an allegation of abuse. Even with the word INVESTIGATOR on my chest, and with everyone knowing why I am there, there are some perpetrators who are so reactionary in their fight/flight response that they try to threaten and intimidate me (fight). They are displaying abuse behaviors to the one person you would logically think they would want to hide those behaviors from. And many do. But for some, they literally cannot stop the response. Makes my job a little bit easier because now I am a witness to their abusive reactions and can document it. In this instance with TK and Carlos, I’m not necessarily saying that response was triggered in TK, but again, he has a much higher propensity for Fight than Flight in general so I can’t say it’s *not* a factor either.

4) Many have expressed wanting to see the apology between them that was not shown. In some ways, I can understand why the showrunners chose not to. That should not be a quick conversation. And in the context of a show like this, where there is no other way to do it, I think would ultimately be worse. If TK apologizes and Carlos accepts without much conversation, there is no reason for anyone to expect the behavior to change on TK’s part. This actually models abusive cycles. Any conversation where Carlos confronts TK about his behavior would take real time because they’d have to get at the reasons why TK had that reaction in the first place, and given that Carlos has already addressed this (in their convo at the police station after TK is arrested for brawling) and it hasn’t changed. Therefore, the scene would need to either put Carlos in a role of continuing to bring this up while addressing why he is putting up with the behavior from TK, or Carlos needs to do some self-reflection about why he’s still in this relationship. So to do it in a way that is actually “healthy” doesn’t take them where the writers wanted them to be later in the episode. So, in many ways, their apology scene is best served by a well-written fanfic than it would be by a 2 minute on-screen scene that would either serve to perpetuate an unhealthy cycle or push them further apart. This way, there is an ambiguous element where everyone can pretend that some long-ass conversation occurred and the two of them came to a healthy resolution.

5) DV scenes between men are *way* bloodier than any other scenes I encounter. In my experience, when men are abusive of men, it’s very brutal. And again, what equals abuse is sometimes hard to define and even harder to address. So a little shoving, while not great, is also not even in the stratosphere of how bad it often can be. Is it right to view abuse with that kind of relativism? Hard to say. But when you exist in this world, it is hard not to and I have to go by the people in front of me and what they are expressing about how they feel about what happened. If you, the viewer, watched this and reported it as abuse, I could go investigate. But if TK and Carlos say to me, “Nah, we didn’t feel that at all.” Then it doesn’t matter what you, the witness, feel about it, or even me. I can offer my educated and experienced view, but that doesn’t mean the two parties will accept it. That’s why I have learned to hold it loosely because adults have the right to self-determination and the right to make poor choices. And believe me, that is very hard to do, especially when I encounter a victim who is clearly so beat-down that they can’t imagine anything better for themselves. But if I tell that victim, “You must...” then I am simply becoming the next person controlling their choices. Instead, I offer “You could...” or “Here’s some options...”

To me personally, I read TK’s shoving Carlos as evidence of unhealthy self-harm behavior more than TK abusing Carlos, because the action wasn’t rooted in power and control and ended fairly benignly. Would it be awesome for them to still address it? Absolutely. But I also understand why they chose not to.

[vyneyard]

love's arrows

a study on love at first sight and how it relates to vyn's character

first things first, we have to get a major misconception out of the way. yes, vyn believes in love at first sight, he says so himself, right in the first level of the second episode of his personal story. one of his students asks him about it, and vyn spells out his exact thoughts on it. i will quote precisely what he says:

context - vyn explains love at first sight from a psychologist's point of view to his student, making it sound akin to an illusion

student: falling for an illusion... is love real then?

vyn: love is an emotion that cannot be quantified and measured. what matters is what you truly feel. when passion fades away, you will know true love if you still want to be with that person.

student: professor, do you believe in love at first sight?

vyn: personally? yes, i do believe in love at first sight.

student: really? i thought someone as rational as you wouldn't believe in such an... illusion.

vyn: being an illusion or not does not mean it should be discredited and dismissed. also, feelings of love are not rational to begin with. i am only human as well. however... when it happens to me, i would step back to make assessments instead of jumping at the chance. it is worth the wait to see if everything is really just a mirage, or is indeed real.

student: there's a way to find out? can you tell me how?

vyn: it is nothing hard. all you need to do is take the time to observe. observe their attitude and views regarding certain things, especially life-concerning matters. one's reactions more or less tell of their true character.

now that we are all on the same page, we can clearly tell the meaning of vyn's words. what he declares in this dialogue is his entire love philosophy - it describes the way in which he relates to love and to mc in very direct and bold terms, laid out for the player to see. not only does vyn believe in love at first sight, but he also has a plan in regards to how he is going to handle his newfound feelings of adoration. the reason why he keeps questioning mc's principles and beliefs, why he is interested in her hobbies and opinions, why he invites her to spend time with him, be it at art galleries, polo matches or merely in the comfort of his own home; it is all because he wants to get to know her, and he wants her to know him as well, in order to establish whether a relationship would be beneficial to both of them.

vyn richter is an analytical and rational man, that much is true. he is a perfectionist, seeking knowledge and reassurance in the world of facts. he appreciates when things are certain, and he lives his life with the need to be aware of every possible outcome, at any given time. however, this does not mean that he is not in touch with his feelings, or that he does not believe in love - i believe that a bunch of players do not notice this about him, believing instead that he only relies on science and reason. truthfully, vyn is perhaps the most introspective out of the entire cast of characters - he conducts psychological reports on himself in order to be aware of his current state and feelings, after all.

the next question would be "what made vyn fall for mc?", which has a quite simple answer. after the conversation with his student, vyn has a flashback to his first meeting with mc, back when he challenged her to remove a card from the house of cards, without having it collapse. after she expectedly fails, he asks a simple question: whether she would have still tried to remove a card, after having known the outcome. much to his surprise (or delight, rather), mc responds like so:

mc: the only constant in the world is change. and so, so what if i knew that the cards would collapse? i could always pick a different card. maybe the outcome would change. even if i drew the same card again, the outcome might be different depending on how i remove the card, right? i believe that we shape our own fates.

mc's words moved vyn at the time, and they still do, especially her last remark. this paragraph will contain spoilers for vyn's backstory, so in case you are not aware of his origins, and do not wish to know before finding out yourself, i suggest skipping this section. the ability to shape one's own destiny is something vyn longs for. having been born in a royal family, his life had been laid out in front of him before he even had the chance to choose for himself. although he left the Kingdom of Svart, and supposedly cut ties with his family, vyn is still plagued by the thought that he has no control over his fate. when mc reassures him that she believes in change, she believes in the power of choice, vyn is awestruck. it is all he has ever longed for: a person who would understand his stance and his hardships.

the wish to be known is what starts burning under vyn's ribs that day - the possibility that someone might be able to grasp all of his intricacies and beliefs is laid out right in front of him, materialised in the form of mc. and so, he falls. hard.

then why is he so hesitant? another question with a fairly simple answer. vyn believes in love at first sight, and even has an optimistic and idealistic view on love:

vyn: love brings light and hope into your life. love lifts you up. true love can come at any time, even without you knowing.

the next paragraph will contain slight spoilers for vyn's relationship with his father. they are not as grand as the previous ones, but if you still do not wish to know before experiencing the story yourself, i suggest skipping. if vyn has such sweet and bright perspectives on love, and if he has such a well-crafted plan for approaching mc, why is he so uncertain sometimes? because he is scared, and it has to do with his family. his father had gone through the same thing - he fell in love at first sight with a woman, and yet their relationship fell apart. vyn observed this, and he kept witnessing his father's regret and shame throughout the years. he does not wish to go through the same tragedy, so he desperately fights against following his father's steps. when he falls for mc, the fear of losing her, of ending up alone, scarred and sorrowful, makes him reluctant. even so, her words of encouragement, her belief that one can craft their own fate, push him forward.

he becomes more confident over time, wishing to make her fall for him. his possessiveness has roots in those same feelings: vyn does not want to lose mc when he barely started gaining a grasp on her. so he becomes jealous whenever a threat, as small or irrelevant, appears. he becomes grumpy, angry, cold whenever another man shows the slightest hint of interest, not because he thinks that he owns mc, but because he wishes to be with her, to be the only one she sees, in the same way she is the only one he cares about. so he fights - he fearlessly fights for his chances with her, he defends her in front of everybody, he learns new things and skills just for her, for a sliver of her affection and attention.

in conclusion, vyn loves mc carefully, with studied steps. he never takes reckless decisions when it comes to her, because since the first moment he saw her, she became the light in his eyes, the only one worth all the effort. it is either her or nothing, and vyn is not going to risk his chances - not after witnessing his father's destiny. vyn will be different; he will be better. all for mc.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2

{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}

“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”

“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.

“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...

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

Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.

“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.

“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”

“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”

Now it was your turn to wince.

“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”

“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”

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

“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.

“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.

“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.

“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”

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

Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.

Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.

Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.

But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.

Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.

In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.

Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.

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

Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.

“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.

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

Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.

Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.

“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.

“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...

[harbouredsoulss]

Let’s Talk About Love - Part 1

Author’s note: It’s me again, writing about our lover Angel! I seriously need to put some Ez fics up but I cannot stop myself. I was listening to ‘All The Stars’ by Kendrick Lamar, and SZA when this came to me and I just knew it had to be about Angel. I was inspired more so the beginning of the song, rather than by the entire thing. Specifically, “Love, let's talk about love. Is it anything and everything you hoped for? Or do the feeling haunt you?” 

If it isn’t too much trouble please make sure to Like, Reblog or even comment! It would be greatly appreciated. I am so happy with all the love Is There Somewhere has received! I appreciate each and every one of you, who has liked & reblogged!! 💖

Part two is here!!!

Also if you want to be notified for when I post, I am more than happy to create a tag list, just let me know! 🙌🏻

Angel Reyes X [OC]

Warnings: Swearing 

Word count: 1.1k words.

Summary: The idea of love haunts Angel Reyes. He doesn’t know how to commit himself to it. So he sticks to what he knows and does what he does best and he uses  his best friend to do that. But the thing is, she’s madly in love with him and Angel being the most clueless man in the world, has no idea. 

There was always an elephant in the room and it was colossal, yet there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do was dance around the fact that I was deeply in love with a man that did not feel the same. 

I often watched him, mainly from the corner of my eye, always longing to be his; owned by him, body and soul. 

He stood before me now, distress clearly evident on his face. Both hands clasped on either side of the door frame, eyes signalling that he wanted to come in. To relieve himself of whatever it was that was eating him up inside. 

Angel always came to me like this. I was the one he could come to for relief – release. Perhaps I allowed this to go on for too long. Letting him arrive with all those insecurities, those fears, and let him dump them at my doorstep. But I knew, as well as he did that, I would never stop him. 

My heart was close to bursting at the seams with the amount of love I carried for this man. I want to continue to take this, and accept it as enough. I was desperate to. Yet I don’t think I could last realistically, for much longer. 

“Angel.” I answered the door, voice breathless. My confidence waned, resolve breaking as I glimpsed his crumpled face looking at the ground, eyes refusing to meet mine. 

Angel was selfish. He knew this, and he hated that about himself. Hated that he found himself at my doorstep every night, seeking solace the only way he knew how. 

“Can I come inside?”

All it took was a brief nod and he was in, a faint smell of gasoline, mixed with a faint musk that I knew was my favourite aftershave of his. After shutting the door, I turned to face him, finding his gaze still avoiding mine. 

“Do you want something to drink? Eat?” I offered, already knowing the answer. 

“No. Thanks. I just came here to… to talk.”

Talk? That was a surprise. It seemed these past couple months, to me, Angel didn’t know what that was. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. Talk! Angel Reyes wanted to talk.

“Okay,” I sighed, arms crossing my chest, “go ahead.”

His gaze finally met mine, widening slightly as they took in my appearance. I was partially clothed. My panties were on, covered by a large oversized hoodie – his hoodie, that ended just above my knees. 

“I-I’m not good with this shit but I-I just wanted you to know that I see it.” An unfamiliar feeling coursed through my body. I couldn’t tell where this was going. See it? See what?  

“I see what I do to you. What this,” he gestured between the two of us, “does to you.”

“I come over, every night without fail and you let me inside, to your home – your body. But I can’t do this. I can’t hurt you like this anymore. I see it querida, I see your face when I leave. I want you, so fucking much – always but not like this.”

Confusion, shock, and frustration were some of the feelings that bubbled inside. I couldn’t understand where this was coming from. I agreed with everything he said, but I couldn’t quite help but let the anger rise. I was Angry that he was the one making this decision. That he thought he was doing it for me, when it was obvious that what I felt - how I felt, was not what this was about. 

“Angel, where is this coming from?” I couldn’t help but keep the exasperated tone out of my voice. This man was infuriating.

“Me. I have eyes; I can see you. You’re fucking miserable and it’s all because of me.”

Shaking my head, I had to bite back a laugh. What a sick and twisted joke this was. Here the love of my life stands before me, ripping me in two. When not too long ago I was considering doing the same thing. Ending us, albeit begrudgingly.

All the while he is thinking that he’s helping. Giving me whatever it is he thinks I desire. At least, that’s what he’s deluded himself into thinking. 

“Angel,” I started, frustration close to boiling point, “maybe instead of assuming, maybe having a conversation would have been productive. Work out what I am feeling. Actually asking me! Instead, you just decided you knew.” I threw my head back groaning, gripping the roots of my hair. I was seething with the audacity of this man. The man I am so desperately in love with. 

“Angel,” I started again, voice cracking as I tried my hardest not to cry. I could not cry, “I am so fucking in love with you it hurts. That’s what you see when you leave every night. You see shame. Shame of what I feel because I know you don’t feel the same. I want you just as badly, but our wants are two different things. You want my body. I want your body and soul.”

I couldn’t say any more. I had to stop. It pained me too much to continue. But I had to. I had to let it pour out.

“I just wish that maybe we could have had some kind of conversation. But you always jump onto something, whether it be a thing or a thought and you don’t think to consider anything else. If you thought you were hurting me, why did you continue? Why did you keep coming by if you knew what this was doing to me? Why not speak to me earlier?

He was so self-destructive, and I tried to lessen the hurt but I had had enough. He needed to know what his actions, and words does to people and that there are consequences.

I could tell I had shattered him; I could see it with his shaky intake of breath. The words stung. His hands were in his front jean pockets, his face impassive as he stared at me. Though he wasn’t really looking at me; his mind was at work here. I tried to reach out to him, take his hand in mine. I wanted to plead to him, and beg him to stay and to tell him I loved him. That he should forget what he said – what I said. But as soon as I reached out, he took a step to the side, knocking into the coffee table. 

“Uh you know what,” he responded, all emotion devoid from his voice, “this was obviously a mistake. I have to go.”

“Angel wait, come on, we have to talk about this.” You can’t just say this shit and leave, I wanted to scream. 

“Angel, please.”

But he ignored my pleas.

His steps did not falter as he left me standing there, staring at the front door now hanging open. I rushed towards it, watching as he backed his motorcycle out of the drive and sped off into the night, leaving my heart shattered into pieces.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Intrinsic: Jameson in Therapy

Prompt from Anon:  If you're still taking prompts... "Have you tried NOT doing that?"

CW: Noncon survivor discussing future consensual spice, Jameson’s masochism, frank references to noncon and pet whump, brief internal victim-blaming, world-building detail about WRU

Dr. Berger tucks a bit of graying hair behind one ear, smiling slightly at Jameson from her place in the soft armchair she uses during appointments. “Well,” She says, thoughtful, “have you tried not doing that?”

He looks up at her from where he sits curled up on the long sofa, knees to his chest, picking absently at loose threads across the knee of his baggy blue jeans. As always, she is careful not to let her eyes move to the places where hair is slowly growing back in over bald spots where the straps of a leather muzzle had rubbed, careful not to look at the scars he wears on every inch of exposed skin - she’d made the mistake of being caught looking, however briefly, and had discovered that the newest of her clients was deeply insecure about the visible evidence of his captivity.

She’d apologized, but it had taken time to develop enough trust to come back from her initial mistake. She would not jeopardize that now, after they’ve made so much progress and she’s begun to see a shift in how he talks about and relates to his new life, his world.

He even told her the name he chose for himself, and that he’s been telling the others in the house, one by one. Accepting that it won’t be taken from him like his original name was - that it belongs to him, and is his to share or not. 

She would never, ever admit it, but... Jameson is one of her favorite clients to work with. He’s working so hard, every week that they meet he trusts more and more that the path he’s on is one that will move him forward. 

“What?” 

His voice is slightly rough - someone who has screamed enough to have permanent vocal chord damage, she thinks. She makes a note to speak to Jake Stanton about having a physician check on the potential for nodes or other issues that might pop up later. She’s not a medical doctor, but… well. She’s had a lot of clients with vocal chord damage in the sixteen years she’s been working in the pet lib movement, and you start to pick up on the little signs and symptoms they don’t necessarily declare out loud.

“My question is really just me being a little facetious, I won’t lie, but I do want to talk through the spirit of the question. When you mention feeling guilty that you are having a physical response to your housemate, that you are attracted to them and have been struggling with... well. I’d like to really dig in to where that guilt comes from. Now, I am aware that adjustment houses tend to discourage relationships between household members during their time in residence to cut down on the chance for conflict, but that’s not where your guilt lies, is it?”

He goes back to picking at the hole slowly wearing through his jeans. Dr. Berger waits, giving him the silence and time he needs to think his way through the question and the possible answers. After a long time, he says softly, “No. It’s not. I don’t give a fuck if Stanton wants me to hold somebody’s stupid hand or not.”

She has to force her smile not to widen, wondering if Jameson is aware of just how like Jakob Stanton he really is. No wonder they don’t always get along. “Okay. So can you talk to me about just what you sense of guilt, this worry you feel, is rooted in?” 

She watches with some small surprise as the angry, defiant recovering Box Boy who has spoken frankly and openly to her about being maimed, injured, treated as an object, referred to as an animal... blushes.

“I want-... It’s not the, um, the response. That I hate.” He won’t look at her now, and he’s one who loves to stare her down whenever he thinks she’ll be shocked or disgusted by what he has to tell her. But this… this, he’s ashamed or embarrassed to say. “They’re fucking gorgeous, that’s... anybody would like them. It’s… it’s what I want from them that... scares me.”

“You are accustomed to a certain level of unwanted physical attention, it’s not at all uncommon in Romantic rescues to continue to feel sexual attraction and desire after freedom-”

“No. It’s. It’s not that I-... I know that’s normal. It’s… I want…” He shifts, uneasily. “I want… I want Allyn to hurt me.”

The last sentence is whispered. It’s not sharing a thought, it’s confessing what he feels is some kind of sin he is committing or intending to commit. Dr. Berger sometimes feels like a priest in a confessional booth, although she’s never been one to suggest atonement - no, fear of oneself is where the core of most of her clients’ pain lies, in her experience. Instead, she works on reconstructing the impulse or fear from its foundations, breaking apart the horror of its weight and reconfiguring it so it’s easier to understand. 

To take control of, to direct.

She helps them to own themselves, not to fear the prospect but to see in it freedom they have always deserved. 

Fear is the absolute last thing any of her clients should ever have to feel again. They have been taught to devalue and debase themselves, to fear what their bodies can be made to do. If she does nothing else, Dr. Berger hopes she is able to help them be just a little less afraid of the bodies they live in.

“You want your housemate to hurt you?” She asks, gently. “Do you mean in the sense of a serious injury, or…”

“No. Um. No, I fucking… I think about them, um. Hurting-... like… like they used to do. Biting me, or... or scratching... I th-think sometimes about Allyn h-holding a... never mind. Just. Hurting me. I’m-... made to be hurt.”

“You are made only to be yourself,” Dr. Berger reminds him, her voice low and without any hint of judgement. “We’ve talked about your captors before and how you were held. You believe that you were made into a masochist as part of your training, and so you’re frightened that your mind is thinking about your housemate in ways similar to how you were once forced to think about your captors.”

His nose wrinkles - he’s more dismissive than most of the language she uses, and early on delighted in insisting on using words like owner, handler, master. Things he thought might shock her. But Dr. Berger has heard nearly everything she thinks there might be to hear, by now. She only smiles slightly at his expression, jotting quickly down on her notepad a few notations. 

Finally, he offers hesitantly, “I-I guess. Allyn is… good. They’re soft, and nice, and they’d never-... but I want them to. And it’s-... it would make-... them be like Robert, or… wouldn’t it? It’d be… treating them like… I don’t ever want to be what I was again, so why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about it?” 

He is so rarely vulnerable. Dr. Berger doesn’t take for granted the gift he gives her by letting her see past the wall of anger and derision he has built to keep himself safe. In many ways, he reminds her of when she saw Jake Stanton after his own brush with WRU’s handlers and their methods. Bristling, defensive, and with wounds that cannot be bandaged. They instead need to be exposed to the light.

“Intrusive thoughts that contain elements of your captivity are absolutely normal. You are still in the early stages of making progress, and progress is never linear, Jameson. There is no starting line, no ribbon at the end of the race. There is only moving forward, bit by bit, even if sometimes we move back.”

“You mean I move back,” He says, sullen now. “You don’t do shit. You’re already fine.”

“Mmmn, that’s not… quite accurate. I actually see someone myself, you know.” Dr. Berger smiles at his obvious, visible surprise. “My mentor once told me he never trusted a provider of therapy who did not themselves seek it out. I have my own progress to work towards, just as you have yours.”

“Problems are probably real fucking different, though.”

“Well, that’s true.” She allows herself a warm laugh - and is rewarded when he doesn’t bristle or assume mockery like he used to, but relaxes and even gives her a very small smile in return. “But I would advise you not to compare yourself to others. Your situation, while not unique in some ways, is still unique to you. You’ve been through a kind of horror that no one else has - even if others have experienced some similarities, the traumatic events they experienced will never be entirely like yours.”

He nods.

“But-” She holds up one finger “That doesn’t mean we can’t use what we know as a framework, a foundation you can build your own way on. Think of an ancient Roman road paved into a highway in modern Italy, for instance. The foundation was there, a path laid by people who came through before. But you can take what you need and use it to find your own way. I know that you’re scared of your thoughts, I know that you are frightened of wanting to find gratification or satisfaction in pain because you think it means a return to how you were treated before, or that you are inherently changed in damaging ways by your captivity, but…”

When she trails off, he leans slightly forward “But?”

She chooses her words carefully. “Jameson, would you be willing to consider something that may make you a little uncomfortable?”

He looks at her, depths of feelings in his brown eyes, and slowly nods. “Why not? I’m already fucking uncomfortable. All the time.”

His thin shoulders under the oversized band shirt he wears make angles under the fabric as he shrugs, although in the time she’s been seeing them those sharp edges have already begun to round out, the lines of his jaw and cheekbones are softening.

She’s seen it over and over again, the physical changes reflecting the rebuilding of an entire life. It never ceases to amaze her, how hard each and every one of them works. 

“Okay. This may be hard to hear at first but I think it will help you.”

Eventually he nods. “Yeah,” He half-rasps. “Yeah, okay. Just say it. Everything… everything else you’ve said has helped. Go ahead.”

“Okay. So, what I would like you to consider… perhaps what you see as an enforced flaw, a crack that was put into you, a danger you present to your housemate due to your conditioning and mistreatment… it might be in fact an intrinsic part of your sexual expression, and simply an aspect of your attraction to them, and the wish you stated to me to perhaps escalate your current relationship.”

He swallows. The color drains from his face, except for two spots of bright red high along his cheekbones. “What?” His lips barely move. 

“Jameson…” Her tone dips, reassuring and soothing. “I know what you were told. I know you were likely given a series of half-truths and whole lies designed to engender dependence and teach you to loathe yourself and therefore disconnect from your body. But… that body? It’s very real, and it’s entirely yours. I think that we need to look into the possibility that you already had certain tendencies that were exploited and twisted. Those tendencies are not inherently unhealthy or damaging if you learn to pursue them in a safe environment.”

He blinks, once, twice, his eyes glittering. 

She’s made a misstep and she knows it immediately, clear as the tears Jameson never allows to fall. She didn’t time it quite right. They should have spent more time working up to it…

“Are you saying I’m just-... like this?”

“Not the way you are suggesting,” Dr. Berger says softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t express myself clearly enough. Please let me elaborate a little.”

“I fucking hope you d-didn’t mean that I’m-... that I’m just fucked up,” He says, looking away from her, down at the floor. She pretends she doesn’t see one hand go up to curve around the side of his neck, recreating some of the weight of the collar they are so often taught to rely on for a sense of safety.

“I absolutely did not mean that. One thing WRU excels at - one of the reasons they have been so successful - is that they utilize very effective techniques that encourage a sense of complicity and responsibility in the people they abuse and violate. I’m going to hazard a guess that you were told that you chose what happened to you.”

“I signed up for this,” Jameson whispers automatically, rote and robotic, without hesitation. At least, Dr. Berger thinks, she’s been doing this job long enough that hearing that no longer gets to her like it used to. “I wanted to be some rich asshole’s-”

“Yes. That. One way I think they are able to convince so many individuals so thoroughly isn’t only because of the standard methods of sleep and nutritional deprivation, the repetition, memorizing, the mistreatment… no, I think one thing WRU does is find in each of its victims a core truth they can exploit and cause you to fear in yourself, making you more vulnerable to the idea that this company is somehow saving or helping you by ‘making use’ of it. They find your weak point and use it to shatter you, but what WRU never realizes is that the very weakness they exploit is also often the same piece of you we can recover, that we can reclaim. In your case… Jameson, have you ever heard of consensual masochism?”

He’s hooked, she thinks, on this line of logic. On the lifeline she’s thrown him, something to grab onto. A way to begin to believe, in some small way, that he isn’t ruined. They all think they’ve been ruined, by the time she meets them.

None of them is.

“No, I-I haven’t. Does this mean… there are people like me who aren’t, you know, fucktoys-”

“Recovering Romantics,” She corrects, gently. “And yes. Masochism is a not-uncommon mode of expression that many people engage in consensually in the context of healthy sexual expression.”

He swallows, hard. She watches his throat move. Sees the look in his eyes, the minute changes in his expression. The hand pushing against the side of his neck slowly drops. She can see the gears turning within him, a shifting point of view maybe. She can see what he doesn’t want to speak out loud.

There’s another silence. This one is more comfortable, and as always she gives him all the time he needs. 

“How-” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, blinking rapidly again. His knees slowly uncurl and his feet, clad in old hand-me-down sneakers, find their way to flat on the floor. Without his ever-present scowl, he looks years younger. Terrified.

Hopeful.

“How can I-... how do I-...” He takes a deep breath. “If it’s just… part of me… how do I make it safe?”

-

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